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It was the first time Tommy’s been anywhere besides his house, the hospital and his audiologist’s office since the accident that cost him half of his hearing and his pilot’s licence, though thankfully not his LAFD career.
Not that the brass had decided what to do with a decorated firefighter pilot that they’d been forced to ground unless his hearing miraculous returned to his left ear. They weren’t sure if he’d be a liability in the field, so they’d decided he’d start in a strictly administrative capacity when he returned to work on Monday.
Which Tommy supposed is better than being dead.
Maybe.
Or forced into an early retirement.
Definitely.
What did that say about him that he considered death preferable to not working?
Nothing good, probably.
Anyway, Donato wanted to celebrate his return to active employment with drinks and Tommy had lost count of how many times she’d succeeded in not taking no for an answer.
So, there he was, out.
Wearing real person clothes.
He’d even shaved the self-pity beard he’d been working on growing since his doctor first broke the news that his partial hearing loss was likely permanent and that meant he’d never legally be able to fly again. He’d put on aftershave.
He’d also left his shiny new hearing aid at home because he didn’t want Donato and the others eying it with pity the rest of the night. He didn’t want to admit that his life had fundamentally and irrevocably changes because his eardrum had been blown out.
That was a mistake.
He smiled his best forced smile as his former Habor colleagues forgot once again that his left ear was essentially decoration now.
He missed half the conversation.
Reading lips was hard when it wasn’t something you were used to, and he was pretty sure Donato hadn’t just said that there was a pterodactyl in her apartment but he had no idea what other mouth shapes looked like the word pterodactyl and he was pondering the question for far too long before he realised that someone must have asked him a question.
Donato tapped him on the shoulder.
“What?” he asked. It didn’t sound loud enough in his own head, but he must have shouted because Max Green flinched. “Sorry,” he tried to modulate his volume better but that was easier said than done. “What did you say?” He leaned towards the group with his right ear.
“Never mind,” Mendel said.
And that was quickly becoming Tommy’s least favourite pair of words.
Every time said them, he felt the pang of being on the outside looking in, of exclusion. Like it wasn’t worth the effort of repeating the question just for his sake when everyone else had heard just fine the first time.
Like he wasn’t worth the effort.
He knew that was uncharitable. He knew his colleagues – former colleagues technically – weren’t intentionally trying to exclude him. They probably didn’t even realise how it felt to be constantly left out of the loop that way. It wouldn’t occur to them that they were even excluding him and maybe that was worse. The well meaning, unintentionality of it all.
“Never mind,” they said. Like whatever they’d said hadn’t been all that important.
But Tommy still wanted to know the unimportant things along with the important ones.
Or at least to be given the chance to judge for himself whether things were important or not.
He schooled his expression, took a swig of his drink and tried to follow the conversation, eyes flitting from mouth to mouth trying to keep track of words his ears knew the shape of but his eyes had yet to learn.
It was exhausting.
Tommy finished his beer and tugged at his collar. “I’m gonna get some air,” he said and before anyone could offer to go with him, he fled the bar, finding a spot in the alley outside that hadn’t yet been claimed by a smoker.
Tommy breathed.
He closed his eyes.
One good thing about suddenly being left with only half his hearing was that it was easier to tune the world out when he wanted to.
And right now, he wanted to.
Well, actually, what he wanted to do was go home and hide in his garage with his tools and an engine and focus on the task of fixing something that could actually be fixed. But Donato would hunt him down and drag him back out if he did that, so Tommy settled for keeping his eyes closed and leaning his back against the exterior wall of the bar and breathing.
And trying not to cry.
Trying not to mourn how easy conversation used to be.
How smooth.
How much harder it was to hide from the world when he couldn’t plaster over his feelings with a well-timed quip or a joke because so much of his energy was focused on trying to keep up with the conversation that he missed his timing. He’d built up so much of his persona around being the guy with the fatalistic banter. Now that he didn’t have that, how was he supposed to present to the world?
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Tommy sighed.
It was probably Donato asking if she should send out a search party.
It buzzed again.
Tommy opened his eyes and pulled out his phone.
A name he hadn’t seen appear on his phone screen in months appeared at the top of his messages: Evan.
Tommy blinked and before he could think better of it, before he could convince himself that it was a bad idea to pick at that wound, before he could catastrophise the potential for heartache, he opened the text.
Saw you with Lucy a minute ago and wanted to say hi. Did you leave?
It wasn’t because of me was it?
Tommy couldn’t help the grin that slipped across his face as he read Evan’s texts and before he knew what he was doing, his thumbs worked across the keyboard. I just went outside to get some air.
And then, the same foolish courage that had lead him to kiss Evan in the first place took control and he added come join me.
He hit send.
And it was only then that he remembered his hearing loss. That he was no longer capable of being the same person Evan knew.
That he couldn’t keep pretending to be the “cool guy” anymore.
But did that matter?
It wasn’t like Evan was ever in love with Tommy.
It hadn’t been a possibility when they were together, and it certainly wouldn’t be one now. Evan was too new to being queer to be ready to settle for Tommy. Besides, it’d been a few months since their breakup. Evan had probably moved on by now.
And Tommy could live with that.
He could.
He had to.
He could smile at Evan and nod and pretend like he understood every word Evan was saying, and he could hide how much it hurt that he couldn’t because he loved every word that fell from Evan’s lips, every oddball factoid, every stammer, every frankly insane theory about curses, every heartfelt utterance of a eulogy for a long dead outlaw.
When they were together, Tommy had loved to hang on Evan’s every word. Now, he’d be lucky to hang on half of them.
And doesn’t that just grind his hope to ash beneath life’s boot? Not that Tommy was hoping for anything. He knew better than that.
“Tommy?”
Evan approached from Tommy’s right – the side of his good ear – so his words were crystal clear. Also, Tommy found that picking out his own name was easier than trying to make out other words. Something about humans being primed to hear their own names being spoken aloud.
Maybe.
What did Tommy know?
He turned.
Smiled.
Almost forgot how to breathe at the sight of Evan, curls glowing in the light spilling from the bar’s windows, legs impossibly long, chest broader and arms bulkier than they had been when they were together. A tentative smile on his face, like he wasn’t sure if it was okay to approach.
“Hey, Evan,” Tommy beckoned him closer, kicking himself for being the cause of any of Evan’s hesitation.
Evan smiled and gave Tommy the most adorable little wave before shoving his hands down his pockets and sauntering over.
Evan stopped inches from Tommy, leaning his head against the wall so that his mouth was angled towards Tommy’s good ear, which had to be a coincidence. “You okay?” Evan asked. “I, uh, heard a rumour that you were grounded. Also, something about an explosion?”
Tommy sighed and shook his head. “So much for pretending I’m fine, huh?”
Evan frowned. “I hate when you do that.”
“What?” Tommy asked, turning to face Evan fully even though it meant moving his good ear further from Evan’s mouth.
“Pretend you’re fine,” Evan leaned in and at first Tommy thought it was to kiss him, but then he realised that Evan was deliberately directing his words into Tommy’s right ear.
“How’d you know?” he asked, eyes wide in surprise, pointing to the ear in question.
Evan shrugged. “I was watching you inside,” he said. “Seemed like you were leaning in with your right side when everyone was talking.”
And Tommy’s hope maybe had a little life left in it after all. Evan had been watching him closely enough to correctly guess which ear he could still hear out of based on context clues. Evan had been keeping tabs on him enough to know he’d been injured and what his injury was. He smiled. “Really?”
Evan nodded. He licked his lips and God, Tommy wanted to kiss him. But he’d forfeited that right.
And anyway, before Tommy could act on that thought if he wanted to, Evan said, “Uh, you know, I actually know a little ASL if you want to learn. Just finger spelling and a couple of emergency related signs. I could teach you.”
Tommy frowned. “Why do you know that?”
Evan shrugged. “Had a call a few years back. Apartment fire. Had to evacuate a deaf woman who was trapped inside. After that, I figured it’d be a good idea to know some signs. Did you know that 15% of adults in the US have trouble hearing.”
“I did not,” Tommy said. He was as much entranced by the idea of Evan knowing facts about hearing loss as he was about the fact that not once had Evan shifted in such a way that made Tommy miss a single word of what he said.
Evan reached out a hand, caressing Tommy’s left ear, which from the outside seemed like a perfectly functional ear. “Can’t you use a hearing aid?” he asked.
Tommy laughed. “Uh, I left it at home,” he said. And okay, maybe he felt embarrassed about being embarrassed about wearing something that was supposed to help him.
Evan frowned. “Why?”
Tommy sighed and, as much as he wanted to lean into Evan’s hand and relish in the warmth of his caress, he pulled back. “I guess I didn’t want people to look at me any differently,” he said. “Maybe I wanted to pretend nothing had changed.”
“How’s that going for you?” Evan asked. His eyebrow arched, drawing attention to his delicious birthmark that Tommy used to spend hours tracing and touching and kissing whenever they had an afternoon all to themselves and no plans beyond spending every moment together.
For once, Tommy decided to be honest, to stop pretending everything was fine. “Not great,” he said. “Missing out on half the conversation sucks.”
“I get that,” Evan said. “Uh, I mean, I don’t actually, but I can imagine.” And he stared at Tommy, not with pity, but with compassion and didn’t that just chip away at Tommy’s resolve to keep this conversation strictly platonic. “So, do you want me to teach you ASL?”
“You’d do that for your ex?” Tommy asked.
Evan hesitated for a moment, licked his lips, and then fixed Tommy with the most God-damned earnest and hope-filled expression Tommy had ever seen. “What if I don’t want to be your ex?”
Tommy’s breath hitched. “What do you mean?” This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. It had to be a dream, a beautiful, excruciating hallucination. Maybe Tommy’s fucked up hearing was putting words in Evan’s mouth.
“There’s something I should’ve said that night,” Evan said. “I, uh, should’ve told you I loved you. I was trying to show you that by asking you to move in with me, but I realise now that I may have skipped a few steps.”
Tommy gasped. Definitely a hallucination.
Evan leaned in, lips brushing Tommy’s right ear. “I love you, Tommy. I want you.” And then he pulled back and made one of the few signs that Tommy knew from the handful he’d learned in grade school. He formed an “L” with his thumb and forefinger, pinkie extended.
Tears pricked Tommy’s eyes.
“Really?” he asked.
Evan nodded and then he cupped Tommy’s cheek with one hand, a question in his eyes and he cut the distance between them in half. Tommy nodded. “I want you too,” he whispered.
And Evan closed the rest of the distance.
Just before their lips met and Tommy’s eyes fluttered closed, he caught sight of Donato over Evan’s shoulder, backing away.
He smiled against Evan’s lips. “Wanna take this somewhere I little more private?” he asked.
Evan nodded, stealing another kiss and nipping at Tommy’s lower lip before backing away. “Let’s go.” He held out his hand to Tommy.
And Tommy didn’t hesitate. He took Evan’s hand and followed him into whatever future awaited.