One Day at a Time -- Chapter 2

[thephantomq]

Previous Chapters can be found here.

He really couldn’t. As Jazz dropped his messenger bag down beside his threadbare couch, he snatched his laptop from its resting place on the coffee table. Before he could even fully shed his suit jacket, he was setting up the video chat, his lip caught between his teeth as he collapsed onto his bed

When the screen finally loaded, tarnished yellow eyes stared back at him, and Jazz felt his heart skip a beat. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, burying his face against the body pillow he used as a stand-in for his long-distance boyfriend. “I missed you…”

Devin raised an eyebrow, leaning back against his own pillows as the camera seemed to follow his every move. “Missed you, too, cutie,” he whispered, studying Jazz for a moment as he curled up in his own bed. Jazz could almost feel Devin’s fingers running through his hair and massaging the back of his scalp as he asked: “You okay?”

Jazz gave the slightest shake of his head, further hiding his face in the pillow as he refused to meet Devin’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have gone into the War Room today,” he said, his words muffled.

“How come?”

Because I made a huge ass of myself? Jazz thought to himself as he chewed his lip. “I yelled at Casio again,” he managed to say instead, flicking his eyes over the edge of his pillow and meeting Devin’s curious gaze. “I got caught up in the moment and -- he had the Imperial Guard escort me out of the room…”

Devin’s perfect brows knit close together, his eyes widening some as he reached for Jazz through the screen. “What’d you say?” he asked, his voice soft and quiet. It was almost quiet enough that Jazz moved to turn the volume up even further on his laptop, only to find that it was already at the maximum.

Jazz lowered his eyes from the screen once more, his arms tightening around his Devin stand-in as he muttered, “I don’t -- really remember…”

Even though he and Devin were several thousand miles apart, Jazz felt the shift in the air; the way it tensed around him and Devin both. Devin sat up straighter on his bed and folded his thin arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at Jazz. “Not gonna judge you for what you did at work, but -- am gonna judge you for fucking lying to me, dude.”

Jazz’s ears burned at Devin’s tone, and he looked away from the screen and covered his face with his hands. For what had to be the hundredth time that day, he felt his stomach become lead, sinking through his insides. “I called him a -- a shortsighted, stubborn child,” he said after a moment, his voice small and high in pitch as he fought off a wave of tears.

“And?” Devin pressed, his tone hard.

Jazz snorted, an uneasy smile making its way across his lips. “And if he continued to act this way, he shouldn’t be surprised once his own people decide to turn on him and try to -- get rid of him…”

There was a long pause before Jazz heard Devin sigh through his laptop’s speakers. “‘Strue,” he said, his voice deadpan and unimpressed. When Jazz finally looked at the screen again, Devin had his back to him, his shoulders hunched as he curled in on himself on his bed. “Suck at lying, y’know…”

“I --” He wanted to defend himself; wanted to say no, he was a lot better at lying than Devin gave him credit for -- aside from the fact he couldn’t ever lie to Devin. Or Mitchel. Or -- “I’m sorry,” he whispered, squashing down all of those other thoughts. “I shouldn’t’ve tried to lie to you. I just --” He rubbed at his face, looking at Devin’s back for a minute before hiding his face in his pillow. “Mitchel -- was mad at me, and --”

“‘Mnot Mitchel,” Devin said, cutting Jazz off. When Jazz looked up again, Devin was looking at him over his shoulder, his expression hurt. Slowly, Devin turned around completely, facing his own camera once more, half of his face hidden behind a curtain of his long, black hair. There was another long pause, and then: “All of you, remember?”

Jazz curled in on himself and put his head in his hands. “I know,” he whimpered, as though in pain. He sniffed and fought off a wave of tears. “I know, I just -- I don’t know why I…”

The tears won. When Jazz finally managed to pull himself back together, he wiped the stray tears away from his face and hesitantly met Devin’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

Devin shrugged, having repositioned himself and his camera so that he was now sitting upright. “‘Sokay, dude,” he said, holding Jazz’s gaze. A hint of a smile graced his lips. “Don’t know if you can really promise me that, just -- want you to stay you, okay? Can you promise me that?”

Jazz nodded, hugging his pillow tightly to his chest. He even kissed it, wishing more than anything that he could kiss the tip of Devin’s nose, or the bridge of it, or his cheek, or his lips. Anywhere, really. For all the months -- no, a year, now -- that they’ve known each other, they’ve never met in person. Never touched each other for real, though they certainly had their moments where their imaginations ran wild. And now was one of those times where it was painfully apparent that he couldn’t touch, no matter how much he wanted to.

“So what happened?” Devin asked, tracing shapes into the bedspread on his thin mattress. His golden eyes had softened once more, shining with concern as Jazz continued to try and compose himself. “You get in trouble for telling him the truth?”

Jazz couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged on his own lips at that. He looked away from Devin again, this time turning his eyes towards the ceiling. “I got escorted out of the War Room by the Imperial Guard,” he said with a small frown. “I’m not allowed back into the council room or the war room until Casio says I can -- if he says I can.” He paused and bit his lip. “I think I’m lucky I didn’t just get fired -- or arrested…”

“Better not get fucking arrested, dude,” Devin said with a quiet growl. He reached for the screen, as though he were brushing Jazz’s hair out of his eyes. “Don’t know what I’d do without you, if you did…”

Jazz gave Devin an uncertain smile. “I don't know what I'd do without you, either," he said, lowering his eyes from the screen. "The thing is, though -- if Casio gets what he wants…” Jazz shook his head and tightened his arms around his pillow. “The Lamagne won’t be the Empire’s only issue.”

Devin’s expression turned serious, his tanned skin becoming closer to Jazz’s in color. “Think you guys’re gonna back out?” he asked, his voice small and frail.

“Casio thinks we should be putting all of our efforts on our borders -- and that helping Cliffton is only working against us, since Cliffton can’t provide us with localized support in the eastern colonies, so -- yes,” Jazz said, his voice trembling a little as he half-buried his face in his pillow once more. “He doesn’t give a shit that Cliffton would view that as an act of war, if we left them to fend for them fucking selves…”

Jazz licked his lips and caught the bottom one between his teeth, biting it harder than necessary as he watched Devin’s expression fall even further. Devin lived in Cliffton; he was employed by a military officer as an independent contractor -- and if their countries went to war with one another…

“I keep trying to remind Casio that Cliffton used to be a part of our borders, too,” Jazz said, meeting Devin’s eyes. “I keep trying to remind the whole war room of that, actually. Cruz’s the only one who I think is even listening to me, but she -- after she had her miscarriage, she just hasn't had the same presence in the war meetings as she used to...”

He trailed off, not knowing what else to say. He worried his bedsheet between his fingers, all but unthreading the hem as he waited for Devin to digest everything he said. Devin looked off to the side, his eyes focused on some point beyond the screen. “You think he’s gonna get his way?” he asked, meeting Jazz’s eyes.

Jazz’s eyes widened, and it was his turn to look away from the screen. “I don’t know if he will or not, but -- he can’t -- declare war against Cliffton without the Council being in agreement. But -- that doesn’t mean he can’t do shit to make Cliffton declare war against us, either, you know?” Sighing, Jazz shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. “I really don’t want to go back into that room, though -- not after today…”

“Don’t blame you, dude,” Devin said, his tone almost apologetic. He curled in on himself, pulling his long legs up against his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “‘msorry, should’ve listened to you yesterday -- said you didn’t think you could handle being in that room anymore. Should’ve told you to stay out of it if you could, instead of telling you I thought you could handle it..."

Jazz gave a dismissive wave of his hand and offered Devin a reassuring smile. As he smoothed down his bedsheet once more, he said: "It's not your fault I decided to go into that room today, sweetheart. You didn't make me go in there -- and you definitely didn't make me yell at Casio, either..." He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, a sudden weight settling itself on his chest.

He'd approached Casio, too. It wasn't just the fact that he had indirectly threatened the Emperor's life verbally -- it was the fact that he had moved towards him, his intent unknown, while yelling at him. His stomach twisted and Jazz put a hand over his mouth, closing his eyes with a quiet moan. It wasn’t that his words themselves had been vaguely threatening. His behavior -- his actions had implied a threat, as well. He was lucky to have been escorted out of the Palace so peacefully, he --

"Dude, 'swrong?" Devin asked, his eyes filled with concern.

Jazz just shook his head and whimpered, willing away tears he knew were going to come all over again. His throat closed around his breath, tightening without his consent. He should be fired. He should’ve been taken out in handcuffs. No wonder Mitchel had been so upset with him -- so frustrated with his behavior. If he had just sat down and listened…

"Breathe, 'kay?" Devin whispered, and Jazz found himself opening his eyes, noticing that Devin had cradled the camera to his chest, holding it close. He couldn’t see Devin’s face anymore -- all he could see was the black of Devin’s shirt, but even just that helped Jazz to listen to Devin’s quiet instructions. He drew in a deep breath as best as he could and let his eyes slip closed once more, sinking against his body pillow a little as he tightened his arms around it.

“I got pulled out of that room because I -- because I was storming over to Casio...when I was yelling at him,” Jazz admitted, his voice small and muffled against his pillow. “It wasn’t because of what I said, it was because of what I did, and --” He shook his head again and wished his voice wouldn’t crack. “I need to go apologize to him before I find myself in a fucking jail cell…”

“Don’t think you should go do that today, dude,” Devin said, his voice still quiet. Jazz looked up at him, his brow furrowed. “Gotta give him time to cool down, too, y’know? Dude doesn’t like you as it is -- you think he’s gonna accept an apology now?”

“D’you think I should go in tomorrow to apologize?” Jazz asked, raking his fingers through his hair. He offered Devin a shaky smile. “I don’t think I’d go into work tomorrow, but -- I should go and apologize to him sooner rather than later, right?”

“Think so, yeah,” Devin said with a nod. He offered Jazz a slight smile and picked imaginary lint from his jeans, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “‘msorry. Been so wrapped up in my own bullshit -- should’ve known you needed a break from that room and told you to stay out if you could…”

“I already said it’s not your fault,” Jazz said with a shake of his head. “You’ve got a lot going on right now, too -- what with Wintertide coming up…” He trailed off, then gave Devin a sheepish smile. “That’s the holiday coming up for you guys, right?”

“Don’t celebrate it in Majeria, but -- yeah it is,” Devin said, his expression darkening some. “Celebrate it back ‘home’, though…”

Jazz nodded. He reached for his laptop and pulled it closer to him, hugging it much like Devin had his own, just a few moments ago. “Want to talk about it?” he asked, drifting his fingers down the screen and wishing he could push Devin’s long hair out of his face. “I know you’ve been needing to, and I know I haven’t been a very good listener, lately, but -- I’d like to try, if you need to talk...”

Devin’s eyes widened, a slight, sad smile tugging on his lips as he glanced up at Jazz through his screen. “Dunno if I can,” he said, his voice quivering a little. He sniffed and met Jazz’s eyes. “Think I do need to, yeah…”

Jazz nodded again, keeping his mouth shut as he waited for Devin to gather himself. He knew the younger man often struggled with words; that he found it difficult, sharing anything personal. A year ago, Devin wouldn’t have opened up to him at all; he would have claimed he was fine and left it at that.

When Devin began to speak, Jazz listened intently, feeling his heart ache in his chest at the pain present in Devin’s voice. There was so much of Devin’s past even Devin didn’t know -- the gaps obvious whenever he spoke about it. But this holiday -- it signified a major event in Devin’s life; one Devin couldn’t remember, but it had to involve this kid he once knew -- that he loved. And Jazz knew that Devin would get discouraged, if he spoke up too soon -- if he brought up that the past doesn’t matter, not anymore. Jazz would still love Devin, no matter what.

 

All the while, in the back of his mind, he dreaded the arrival of tomorrow. Of seeing Casio face to face after he’d pulled his little stunt. But he kept it there, tucked in the corner of his mind, waiting for its turn to resurface. Devin needed him now, he told himself. His issues could wait, just this once.

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