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Ben wakes up feeling fuzzier than normal. Callum’s hot and heavy where he’s pressed to Ben’s back - skin still worn and sticky from the fun they’d had last night. He turns to stretch and smile, remembering all they’d gotten up to; the party at the Albert, ringing in the new year, and bringing the celebration back to Callum’s.
Yeah. It was a really good night.
When he turns to face Callum he’s surprised to see he’s awake, a worried expression on his face.
“What?”
“I’ve been talking to you, didn’t ya hear me?”
“Oh sorry.” Ben leans over to the end table, to find his hearing aid, but other than his glasses there’s nothing there. He puts them on to search on the floor, and under his pillows, and in the sheets, but it’s nowhere to be found. “Shit.”
“Hey,” Callum pulls him back around, sitting up now and his hands firm on Ben’s shoulders. “It’s alright. We’ll find it.”
Ben knows it’s stupid to be embarrassed. And in front of Callum of all people. But he’s usually a lot better at managing it than this. He takes it out last minute, and puts it back first thing, and Callum’s usually none the wiser.
Despite an extensive search of the flat, and later at the Albert, they don’t manage to find it. Ben’s angry at himself, and feeling stupid, because he never does this. He’s a lot of things, but he’s responsible about this.
“Will it cost a lot to get it replaced?” Callum asks, and Ben appreciates that he’s talking slowly and clearly. It feels strange not having his aid, he’s off balance. Like his ear’s blocked with water and he just needs to give his head a shake.
He’s so used to relying on the technology he forgets what it feels like.
“I have insurance, but it’ll take a few days to get it organised.”
“Will you be okay without it?”
Ben shrugs over his coffee cup. It's cold, and his eyes are itchy because he'd hurriedly put his contacts in, and he's just had enough of this day. “I’ll just go get the old one from mums, I guess.”
“Oh. Well that’s good,” Callum says, startling when Ben scoffs. “What? At least you’ve got a back up.”
“It’s ancient.”
“So it doesn’t work as well?”
Ben just shrugs again. He doesn’t know how to explain it without being embarrassed and feeling even sillier. He’s left that Ben behind. The goofy glasses and the brick attached to his head and the constant stream of teasing that used to follow him. Four eyes, robot boy, loser.
Ben knows it’s nothing to worry about now.
Callum joins him at his mum's place, and follows him upstairs, to find his old hearing aid - still in a box in a drawer kept in perfect condition. Callum watches him, fascinated, as they sit on the edge of Ben’s bed and he puts it back in.
When he turns it on, it’s like sitting upright again. He’s centred.
“You don’t talk about it,” Callum says softly, touching gently at Ben’s ear. “So I don’t really think about it. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? That’s how I like it.”
“But it’s part of you. And, you know, I wanna know all of ya.”
Ben gives him an elbow to the stomach. “Sap.”
“I’m serious!”
“I know you are. And really, there’s not much to know. It happened when I was a baby, I got sick and lost hearing in this ear. I can still sorta hear, like a rumbling, but nothing clear.”
“Did ya have to learn to sign or anything?”
“I learnt a little,” Ben says, grabbing for Callum’s hands instinctively. “Mostly the alphabet, ya know, a few words here and there. But the aid helps, like, 100 percent, so there weren’t any reason to really.”
They sit quietly for a little longer, their fingers twisting together on Callum’s thigh, Ben feeling his skin get a little hot with the attention. “You don’t like it, do ya?” Callum says, because he’s too clever for his own good. “Is it ‘cause you can see it?”
“See it?” Ben teases. “It needs its own area code it’s so big!”
“Don’t!”
“It’s true! Kids used to call it Bill and call me The Flower Pot Men. They used to ask me if I’ve ever climbed the mountain on my head. They used to say, stand still so I can get better reception on my phone.”
Ben means to say it in a funny way but he knows the atmosphere has quickly changed - Callum’s looking at him that way he does, like he wants to pull Ben to him and protect him from the big, bad, world. “Kids suck.”
Ben sighs. “Yeah.”
“You ain’t a kid any more, Ben. You don’t have to listen to that. Or believe it.”
“I know. I mean, I don’t, but … it sticks with ya, y’know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
Callum rests a gentle hand on Ben’s neck, just below his ear, and leans in for a soft kiss. “If it makes you feel any better, kids used to say that stuff about my ears,” he says quietly, pressing their foreheads together.
“It don’t,” Ben says, but he’s smiling. “Wish I could go back and kick their arses.”
“Your bullies or mine?”
“Yours. I’ve already kicked all mine.”
Callum laughs and comes back in for another kiss, lingering this time, sweet and gentle and just a hint of tongue - leaving Ben wanting more. “If I’d known I would someday have a tall, thick, fit bloke in my bed back then I wouldn’t have worried about it.”
Callum grins and pushes Ben onto his back. “Then you ain't gotta worry now, huh?”
Ben pulls Callum up the bed, and pulls his shirt free from his trousers, and groans into a heated kiss that gives him flashbacks of last night. Callum naked and sprawled across the bed and begging Ben to fuck him. He’d heard it all, and felt it to his bones, and he hopes it's true what they say.
About starting a year the way it will end.
“You’re so beautiful,” Callum tells him, later, touching Ben’s face and nose and eyes and ear, taking the lobe into his mouth. “So beautiful.”
Ben’s starting to believe it.