James snorts, but he doesn't try to argue. He closes his eyes and lets Steve fuss with his hair, which looks maybe marginally better pulled away from his face. He doesn't really understand what Steve sees in him that makes him want to do things like this. It's not really about looks. James understands, more or less, that he could be relatively handsome. The picture itself isn't a bad one, but he doesn't really know what to say about it so he just hums lightly and lets it be. Steve looks happy. That's all he needs out of it. He doesn't want to look at it any longer than he wants to look in mirrors these days. His body is the relic of wars long passed. He heals over without scars, pristine, like a field of ordinance. Everything ugly is just under the skin, waiting.

Steve's arm goes around his shoulders and James feels his chest constrict a little, but it's alright. He moves his hand over a little to find Steve's thigh under the water, skimming idly over skin, to remind himself that he can. He's not strapped down. There aren't any knives near enough to reach, and for a moment that's a very comforting thing.

"Uh huh. I'm sure no one calls you a geezer anymore, especially not Nat."