Glitter in the Air (слэш)

James was standing when Steve turned around. His backpack hung from his left shoulder. Somehow, he’d managed to buckle the strap across his chest. He looked at Steve, his gaze simultaneously expectant and far away. Guarded. Waiting. For what, Steve didn’t think he wanted to know.
“Are you in trouble?” Steve asked again.
His voice was quiet, barely there. “No.”
Steve looked at him. At the dark bags beneath his eyes, at his dirty hair, the sweatshirt he’d been wearing since Steve had first seen him. There was a hole in the left cuff.
It was none of his business.
“Is there anyone I can call for you? Is anyone looking for you? There are phones you can use.”
“No. I’m—” He stopped and looked at the door. His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m looking.”
“Looking for what?” If Steve could help in any way, he would.
James looked at him again. It was the first time he’d fully met Steve’s gaze. “Myself.”