A Father's Love

The Office

Hugh could not put his finger on it, but he knew he was forgetting something.

The notion followed him through his morning routine, puzzling him to the point that it must have shown on his face by the way that Father was suddenly snapping his fingers for his attention.

"Something on your mind, Test?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Wha–" Hugh bristled and turned to face him. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Father inclined his head, taking the freshly lit pipe from his mouth. "You can't possibly be that tired," he mused. "I seem to recall you sleeping very soundly last night."

Hugh's face flushed dark as he cleared his throat and pivoted on his heel to open the fridge. "Well, y-yes… I did, but…" He grabbed the small pitcher of cream to pour into the waiting mugs on the counter. "I'm not sure what it is, actually."

"Hm." Father regarded him with question before clicking his tongue. "Well, as much as I'd like to try and help you sort it out, I'm expected in a meeting in five minutes."

Hugh had to stop himself from pouting. "Before breakfast? It must be important." He carefully filled the freshly brewed coffee just shy of the rim.

"The annual review." Father couldn't have sounded more annoyed if he tried. He closed the distance between them, a hand out for his drink. "But, whatever is plaguing you must be just as important."

Hugh raised an eyebrow at him, nonplussed. "You're making fun of me," he huffed.

Father surprised him by chuckling. "A little. I like the frustrated look on your face."

As he took the cup from Hugh, he leaned in close, planting a kiss against his freckled cheek. All other rational thought fled, just for the few heartbeats that Hugh's heart skipped as Father pulled away.

"Mm, bring another one of these with my breakfast, will you? I'm sure I'll need it," he murmured, already on his way out.

"... Of course," Hugh whispered, watching him go.

Well, that certainly hadn't helped. As he cooked, that little peck was all that Hugh could think about. Every now and then, his stomach would knot or his pulse would flutter. He found himself brushing his fingers where Father's lips had been again and again, grinning and distracted. Now, he was trying to remember the last time he had been so affectionate with someone.

Years ago, he decided with finality as he finished plating a bright yellow omelette. He hadn't realized until that moment that it was something that he had missed– something that he thought that he would never get back. He could not have guessed that Benedict Uno, his once brooding benefactor, could become someone that Hugh could honestly say that he was developing feelings for.

It was insane. But Hugh had missed a measure of chaos in his life, too. He was starting to feel more like himself than he had in so long; far longer than he cared to admit.

He carried the plate up to the office, knocking very lightly with his knuckle before opening the door as quietly as he could. Father was half slumped in his chair, body cast in shadows. Hugh bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing aloud; even without visibly defined features, it was clear that he was already bored.

Hugh approached the desk with a little wave to catch his eye, and Father glanced up to gesture him closer. With the meal placed on the desk, Hugh turned to go, but a light hold caught his sleeve. He looked down as he was pulled back a few steps and ultimately into Father's lap.

"Hey–" he began, but he was promptly shushed. Father pointed to the computer screen; the little microphone icon was on, but the camera was off.