Work Text:
The office was near silent, only the sound of Cho typing away at his keys permeated the air and the occasional shift of Patrick against the couch cushions.
To most it would have been mildly eerie in the low light but otherwise normal, Patrick Jane was not most.
“You’re mad at me.”
It was of course a statement that the agent didn’t acknowledge.
“Lisbon would have stopped me if I told her.”
That infuriating smile was in his voice, like he found the whole thing amusing, another game to play, another piece on the board.
Patrick pulled himself up, walking to the kitchen and making himself a cup of perfect tea, and another only slightly different.
Setting the second cup on Cho’s desk he perched himself on the corner, waiting, watching. Slowly his amusement bleeds into annoyance, then frustration as his teasing pushed against the stone wall that was Kimball Cho’s resolve, but oh it was always so worth it.
Because Cho is the one he can never truly predict, who no matter what makes him think. Sure Kimball sometimes fell for his little tricks but it was no means a guarantee, and while everyone danced to the con artist's tune like a well planned orchestra, the usually stoic man always found a different rhythm, someway to weave into the song but under his own steam rather than Jane’s pull.
Patrick frowned down at his now empty cup, realising he’d missed something.
“Lisbon would have stopped me, but you wouldn’t have.”
His tone was ponderous, slow and he knew he was right when Cho finally looked up, face like stone but eyes burning with anger but the kind that stemmed from a deep worry.
“I’m sorry.”
And something in the agent’s eyes softened, the anger still present but the simple but genuine apology took the edge off it.
“You could have died.” Patrick flinched, a mere twitch but on the usually controlled man it was practically a scream. “Don’t do it again.”
“I’ll try.” He answered softly, because they both knew there were times when Patrick let things get too far ahead of him, where he got so wound up in his schemes that he neglected details he thought were unimportant, unfortunately for Cho, Patrick considered his well being as one such detail.
Cho’s mouth curved at the side before he turned back to his work while the consultant shifted, his perched position turning even more relaxed and loose.
Lifting his hand he cupped the agent's shoulder, smiling softly when Kimball met his eyes.
Slowly, deliberately he leaned forward, pressing a soft lingering kiss to the younger’s temple.
Patrick went back to his couch with a beaming grin on his face while the agent worked with a soft smile. If anyone had walked in they’d have thought the world was about to implode.