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“It’s just a cough.” Is what the man had said upon their initial meeting at the airport. Phoenix had hugged his friend without thinking, pulling him close to his chest and knocking the hat askew. He had pulled away immediately when Layton started coughing, nervous he’d accidentally crushed his ribs, but the older man just waved him off. He’s just a bit sick, and it’s not a big deal.
The first day went fairly well, as did the second. Nick’s friend seemed a bit under the weather– The cough didn’t improve at all so Nick managed to muster up the courage to buy cold medicine, even though his hands shook the whole way through.
And then a flower petal falls from his handkerchief when he’s bringing it back down to his pocket. A single bright yellow petal that flutters to the floor, and both men freeze.
“Uh, professor?”
The man bends over, plucks the flower petal up, and stuffs it in his pocket. “Yes, Mr. Wright?”
“Is everything okay?” He says, kind of dumbly because of course it’s not okay! The professor must have known that he had hanahaki and just tried to spare Nick’s feelings about it.
“I’m quite alright.” The grimace on Hershel’s face before he hides it behind his hat isn’t promising. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe the taxi is here…”
“Wait!” The lawyer catches his wrist, but Layton doesn’t turn. “Professor…”
“Please.” The other man clears his throat, and Phoenix reluctantly lets him go and watches him get out as fast as possible without running.
The petal haunts him through the night, and he lays awake for a long while thinking about it.
Professor Layton has always kept his cards very close to his chest. A bit like Miles, actually, and in such a way that Phoenix wants to pry him open and find the vulnerable man underneath.
Maybe it was more taboo to talk about Hanahaki in England? Or he was planning on confessing soon and thought it would be best to not worry Nick for their few days together during the professor’s stay in Los Angeles?
For that matter, who was a man like Hershel interested in? He didn’t exactly seem like the romantic sort, and Phoenix had verified for his own reasons that the older man was single. Whoever his friend liked had better reciprocate that affection, because the professor is a real catch. Thoughtful, smart, pretty…
And maybe Nick has a little crush on him too, but that doesn’t matter. He hasn’t exactly had the best experiences with love in the past, so he isn’t really interested in pursuing anything. Dahlia is a much different story than a British professor of archeology, of course, but the point still stands. If you put your hand on a hot stove once, you don’t exactly want to do it again.
He had the disease for Miles at one point, but just getting his feelings out in the open had relieved the flowers from his lungs. It hadn’t changed their friendship, thankfully.
The next morning when he picks the professor up from a nearby hotel, Phoenix mentally promises that he’ll get to the bottom of this. One light prod at a time.
“Sooooo…” He asks over breakfast. They had grabbed some croissants and tea from a quaint little cafe. “What have things been like on your end? Any crazy adventures?”
“There hasn’t been much by way of mystery since Luke moved away, I’m afraid. I suppose everyone’s been too busy with repairs to cause trouble.”
“Anyone new in your life…?”
Hershel levels him with a look, so he must not be very subtle. “Not particularly.”
“And how are your friends out in…” Argh, what’s the name of the city again? Curse his poor memory, “British Las Vegas?”
“You mean Monte D’Or?” The amused quirk of his lips is quickly hidden as the professor sips at his tea.
“Yup, that’s the one. How are things going over there?” Hershel had been fairly vague with the mystery revolving around the city and its foundation, but in a private moment had talked about his past with his best friend. Maybe the Hanahaki was related to that?
“Just fine.” Or not. There weren’t any psyche locks popping up when he answered, so Phoenix must be on the wrong track.
Maybe it wasn’t fair to bring the magatama with him, but in Nick’s defense, an illness like Hanahaki could get nasty very quickly.
“I’m just going to be straight with you.” Phoenix sighs, “What’s going on with your flowers? Can we talk about that?”
His companion hums, voice hoarse, then procures a petal from his pocket and hands it over. “It’s a sunflower.”
Phoenix winces as he looks at the little yellow petal. It’s so small and innocent looking, but if Hershel has a sunflower blooming in his lungs then they really don’t have much time. “Do you know who it’s for?”
“...yes.”
“And you’re planning to confess soon, right?” At the professor’s hesitation, Phoenix asks again, “Right?”
“I’m sure that this can resolve itself.”
The lawyer gives him an incredulous look. “You cannot be serious.”
“I can assure you that I am. I’ve had Hanahaki before, and it did eventually go away despite its detriment.”
“That’s not- you can’t just-” He sputters, trying to articulate exactly why that sentiment is entirely insane. “You can’t do that!”
“I’ll be just fine. This will pass, Mr. Wright.” And he’s smiling. It’s going to kill him, and he’s smiling.
“No. We’re not doing this. That’s a sunflower, Hershel. Even if it’ll wither on its own, that could kill you.” He resists the urge to slam his hand on the table, not wanting to cause a scene.
The older man frowns, shoulders starting to hunch in discomfort. “It’s alright. I can handle this.”
“No, you can’t!” Phoenix reaches his hand out, laying it atop Hershel’s smaller one. “Please, I don’t want to lose you. Don’t make me lose you.”
The professor recoils, and for a moment Phoenix feels a pang of rejection before his friend doubles over, quickly taking out his handkerchief to cough into.
“Oh, jeez-” His chair scrapes against the floor in his haste to stand and get to Hershel’s side, rubbing his back as the professor hacks up petals into the cloth. “I’m sorry. Uh- sorry. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”
“It’s alright,” the older man wheezes when the fit stops. His face is pale as he meets Phoenix’s gaze. “I’m alright.”
It’s not, he wants to say. You’re not. Instead he takes Hershel’s hand again. “Look, man. I like you a lot, okay? Uh…” Nick clears his throat. He might as well just say it now. “In a more than friendly way. And I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you, so-”
“Pardon?”
“I like you.”
Hershel’s throat bobs. “In a romantic sort of way?”
“Yeah.” He can feel a flush rising up his neck. Maybe this wasn’t actually the best time to confess his little crush.
“I…” Hershel shoves the brim of his hat down, then starts coughing once more. The fit lasts longer than the last, but he chuckles breathlessly when it ends. “I suppose that settles it, then.”
“Huh?”
A weak smile, “I didn’t assume that my feelings were reciprocated, Mr. Wright.”
“What?” Phoenix blinks, then does a double take, “Wait- really? The flowers are for me??”
“Yes.” The professor stands, and Nick grabs his elbow as it seems like he’s going to topple over. “Ah, if you wouldn’t mind, perhaps we could go someplace else? I don’t want to disturb the patrons here when the root system starts coming out.”
The lawyer wrinkles his nose, remembering how bad that had been for him. “Yeah, that’s probably best.”
There wasn’t any fanfare on Hershel’s end. No tears or begging or even yet talking about how this would change their relationship at all. Just a request that they go somewhere private.
His friend(?) doesn’t protest when Phoenix intertwines their fingers on their way out of the cafe. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad–it was certainly a better outcome than risking the professor’s life, at least. They could sort out the details later.