#ONCE AGAIN ITS HYURICK MAKING ME CRY INTO THE SKY WOW ITS OKAY I CAN D*IE A HAPPY PERSON NOW DISIDIDIEDH

[ofgentleresolve-a]

@jeoseungsaja​ sent in:

He's busy rearranging his brushes, taking note of which ones need some cleaning and which ones can be saved in the case right away. Hyuk only lets his gaze break away from items when he hears his dear friend coming into the small corner of his art space, eyes lifting to watch Patrick add some last details to his outfit. He's supposed to go to some sort of academic event, isn't he? Hyuk remembers Patrick told him something about it.

These last details are nothing out of the ordinary, really. Just Patrick buttoning the cuffs of his button down. Nothing out of the ordinary...and yet, Hyuk's heart skips a beat; enough for his movements to freeze and for the brush between fingertips to fall on the floor.

He blinks, gulping and coming to his senses; leaning down to pick up the brush in a hurry --- wrong move, because when he tries to lift his head, he hits it against the table.

"Yah-aish---" A low hiss before fully standing up, waving his hand in dismissal and placing the brush atop wooden surface. "I'm alright, it didn't hurt---" It does hurt a little, but he's willing to swallow the ache than getting all embarrassed about it.

It's when he fully adjusts that he notices something's off. "Ah, wait, your--"

The detective gets closer to Patrick, takes note of shirt's collar. It's crooked; part of it still oddly tucked under his sweater vest. Instead of verbally telling him about it, Hyuk takes matters into his own hands; fingers reaching out and carefully rearranging the professor's shirt. He even leans in a little, focused on the task; unfolding and pressing collar where it should be.

"There, you had---" Looking up, he notices how dangerously close he is. He can see everything better from here. Patrick's pleasant eyes, the details of his nose, the prepossessing and inviting shape of his lips --- why did his gaze stop right there? Why is his heart doing somersaults? Why is his mind wondering things that perhaps it shouldn't?

Hyuk clears his throat and looks away, temperature climbing up his neck as both of his hands get pressed against Patrick's shoulders; patting them both and unconsciously letting his palms affectionately slide down his dear friend's chest before completely letting go. He hopes Patrick didn't take note of him staring.

"Your collar was crooked. Uh...what time are you going to that thing again?"

(Now here's Hyuk, getting flustered over Patrick's attractiveness---IUWHEDIUWEHUEHD I HOPE THIS IS OKAY, feel free to skip this oR ANY ASK if it's uncomfortable or anything of the sort!! Please have a wonderful day, Ferre!! :D) || they keep toeing the line 👀 ( ft. unprompted )

This is technically the reason he’s in Seoul right now, isn’t it? A conference that his university’s sister school is hosting and therefore, as a representative of the Literature Department, he’s supposed to be giving a speech. Perhaps this is why he initially let Dr. Towell volunteer first, despite the desire that welled up to see his dear friend at that moment. Of course, the research component of his work is important and the main reason he became a professor in the first place, but between interacting with his colleagues and his students, Patrick has found the latter to be much more…pleasant in these recent years.

Never mind the prestige that might come with being nominated faculty member of the year or even head of the department, Patrick is more than CONTENT with his place in the pecking order. It’s not like any of these awards change the quality of his research or even how he teaches anyways. The title is really just a formal means of assigning extra if not superfluous duties.

Such as public speaking. Oh, put the good professor in a classroom and he’s golden- his students are more often than not sharper than given credit for. If they say they learn so much from Professor Grace, then Patrick may say the same about them. But put him in front of a crowd and well-

“You really don’t have to go, Hyuk.” He reminds his dear friend as he wanders into Hyuk’s art space. Perhaps he is being BIASED, but this little corner of his dear friend’s apartment happens to be Patrick’s favorite spot. For one thing, there’s a tad more sunlight that makes its way into the room, more sunlight to douse Hyuk in while he paints.

( And in Patrick’s opinion, his dear friend looks the most beautiful best in the sunlight. Why else would Hyuk be a SUNSET then? )

“I won’t be saying anything special- I’ll just be reading off of notecards.” Which should be easy enough. Not to mention he already translated Dr. Towell’s speech. Save for a few pointers of his own, most of these words are not his own. Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop the dread that gnaws on his nerves. He’s never been one for public speaking, truly. He might be good at it, according to his colleagues, but that doesn’t mean Patrick necessarily enjoys it, especially not the preceding moments.

Perhaps this is why he’ll never rise higher than a tenured professor.

But then again, he also rather dislikes formal events, such as the one he’s attending. He’s just lucky academic events usually don’t mandate black-tie formal attire. “I’ll have to be there for the lectures, but I should be able to duck out once we get to the reception.” Hyuk would understand, right? The formal functions he gets invited to probably aren’t much better…no actually, they might be worse considering that those are almost always black-tie formal. Hyuk can’t get away with not wearing a tie.

But then again, Hyuk’s never been one to go to such events out of OBLIGATION, is he?

Sleeves folded at the elbows, Patrick sets about unfurling them to button them at the cuffs. He peers up at his dear friend, who is currently reorganizing his paintbrushes, in between buttoning.

It’s such an ordinary act, really, and yet Patrick can’t help but smile softly, pieces of warmth blooming out of nowhere. That’s strange- it’s not like he hasn’t seen Hyuk do it before, but then again, anything Hyuk does these days ( outside of getting injured of course- Patrick would prefer not to have a repeat of two days ago ), Patrick can’t help but look on in fondness. He’s been doing a lot of that this week it seems- watching Hyuk when he thinks his dear friend isn’t looking. A guilty pleasure, perhaps, considering that it’s not something he can do all that often, but it makes him feel warm in all the right spots.

( Perhaps Patrick should ask himself why this has been the case. Or maybe he should look a little harder to notice his dear friend has been guilty of the same exact activity. )

With one of the sleeves down, he lets out a puff of annoyance when his fingers fumble with the buttons there. This is why he prefers folding the sleeves once or even twice. “Perhaps we could get bungeoppang from Mrs. Nam on the way back? Didn’t you also mention wanting to drop by their studio- we could get food for them too-“

He’s just about to button the cuffs on his other sleeve when he hears something clatter on the floor. And then something heavier bang against the desk. Patrick looks up in alarm to find his dear friend, crouching and clutching his head with one hand. He must have hit his head against the desk.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to get you an ice pack?”

And of course, Hyuk brushes his concerns aside, but that isn’t going to stop Patrick from gingerly running his fingers over the spot Hyuk hit his head. Despite the loudness of the crash, it doesn’t seem like Hyuk hit his head too hard- at the very least there doesn’t seem to be any bruising or bleeding of any sort. Without thinking too hard about it, Patrick lets his fingers comb through his dear friend’s hair. It’s slightly damp, probably from the shower his dear friend took the hour before, but SMOOTH. Very smooth-

And then the next thing he realizes, his dear friend is leaning into him and Patrick freezes, hand hovering where Hyuk’s head used to be. It only drops when he realizes Hyuk’s hands are pressing delicately against his shirt.

Patrick swallows, heartbeat speeding up. Oh, that’s NEW ( but wait, is it though? For some reason he feels a sense of déjà vu…of more than a few moments in these past few months- ). It’s not like they haven’t been this close in proximity before, but then why is he only noticing the closeness now? Why is he only noticing how gentle his dear friend’s hands are, handling his shirt? Those hands that have weathered more than their fair share of ( unfair ) violence, those hands that strike a delicate balance between justice and mercy, those hands that are almost always closed off to everyone else, choose to be TENDER with Patrick of all people-

And then Hyuk pulls back, face still close to Patrick’s, and Patrick still feels his feet planted in the same spot as he watches his dear friend’s face. His cheeks feel warm suddenly but Patrick can’t bring himself to look away, even if that means following the path of Hyuk’s eyes to- no. No, it can’t be-

Patrick’s breath hitches as his fingers twitch. He’s been OVERTHINKING this, hasn’t he, assuming he was the only one, the only one thinking and wondering if they really are only friends, if there’s been something else on top of twenty years’ worth of friendship.

But he can’t focus on that right now. Not when there’s also suddenly an urge to cup his dear friend’s cheeks and lean in and press his lips against Hyuk’s enticing pair- but wait, would that be too forward-

And then the moment ends and Patrick lets out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding when Hyuk clears his throat. A crooked collar, he said- but then Patrick drops that line of thought for the same warm, tender pair of hands that slide down his chest, and god Patrick really doesn’t want those hands to leave again-

Before Hyuk can let his hands drop to his side, Patrick catches one with his own. His fingers cradle around Hyuk’s own before Patrick freezes. Wait, what is he doing-

He doesn’t let go. Patrick swallows instead forcing himself for once to keep eye contact. Even if he feels like he’s been set on fire.

“I-In an hour or so.” He answers. He notices the cuff of his sleeve is still unbuttoned.  “Um…Could you help me with the other cuff?” He squeezes Hyuk’s fingers. They’re WARM; how Patrick wants to press his cheek against them, perhaps something like the other day when Hyuk kissed him on the cheek. “I’m...I’m having trouble with getting the BUTTONS in…”