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“Can I like- draw you?"
“What?”
It had been so abrupt, that Niko had taken his eyes off the road for a second to glance over at the Irishman. They had been out for their usual drinks, heads foggy from the intoxication, he had been expecting a depressing outburst from the other man like usual, not this.
“Draw you. I think I want to draw you.”
“You think?” Niko mused, chuckling.
“Yea, man- I don’t know. Is that weird? I don’t mean it in a weird way, shit-”
“I don’t think it’s weird. I’m flattered by it, honestly.” He interrupted the other man’s possible spiral from overthinking. He truly was flattered. No one had ever drawn Niko, or at least with his knowledge. He thought people usually drew people they found, well, good-looking, which he didn’t consider himself to be.
“Ah, shit- seriously? This is going to be great, my boy! You gotta trust me, I’m a real uh- savant at art.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned it before. I look forward to it. When do you want to set up for that?”
“Tonight. I want to draw you tonight.”
The certainty in his tone almost made Packie sound sober. Niko breathed a little heavier out of his nose, knowing he should have expected the other to want to do this as soon as possible. Patrick always wanted to do things mentioned as urgently as possible. It’s part of what Niko liked about the other man. It was never a waiting game. He liked the excitement of always knowing words meant action with him.
They were soon to be at the McCreary residence anyways, and Niko didn’t have any set plans for the rest of the night, so he didn’t see any real harm in staying for the younger man. Plus, he was curious about Patrick’s skills.
“Then let’s get to it.” The older man said with a sigh as he pulled up to park by the sidewalk, looking at the giddy drunk next to him.
They both had to help each other stumble into the home, thankfully the rest of the McCreary's asleep. He didn’t want to possibly run into Kate in either of their states. It would not be a good look.
When they got up the stairs and crammed through Patrick’s bedroom door, Niko slumped himself against the wall, sliding down to sit, leaning slightly on the bed next to him that Packie was occupying currently to sort out his thoughts before scrounging his messy room.
He assumed it was for something to draw on, which was true upon hearing an “Aha!” from Packie as he turned with a sway to show a sketchbook and pencil container. Niko just gave back a soft smile in return.
“Do you want me to pose?” Niko asked, a bit jokingly, going for a flex of his arm, then both hands folded under his chin with a low laugh.
“No, no, just get comfortable. You can sit on my mess of a fuckin’ bed if you want, cause this is gonna take a bit, Nicky. I’m a bit rusty, and I want this to, you know, be a real damn masterpiece!” Packie bellowed out, getting himself comfortable across the room from Niko, who did choose to sit on Patrick’s bed with a little hesitance and the usual stiffness he always carried in his posture.
Niko was slumped against the window and wall, as Packie’s bed occupied a corner of the room. He had his knees up to his chest, an awkward yet lazy grin glazed his face looking at Packie who gave him a thumbs up.
–
It had been about two and a half hours, and there was a stack of wadded-up papers next to Patrick’s feet. That was longer than Niko had expected to be sitting in the same position, already shifting some much to Packie giving him a look over it. His eyes felt heavy, staring out the window as Patrick had carried on some mindless conversation. He had been doing that every now and then since starting. None of the stories or questions connected, Niko figured the man just didn’t like the silence very much.
“Can I see it so far-”
“No.”
Third time being rejected. Patrick’s eyebrows were knit tightly together, a focused look the other man had only seen when a trigger was under his finger. It made Niko’s chest tighten a bit. The little he could see his hands not blocked by the sketchbook showed steady but slow movement. Packie’s hands were incredibly rough, Niko knew that from the number of times they’ve brushed against his when getting beers, or the man clinging to him on very rough nights.
His thoughts were drifting, a low huff coming out of his mouth, eyes rolling back between the window and Packie. The Irishman seemed outwardly a little irritated, quickly ripping out the paper from his sketchbook, wadding it up, and tossing it down beside him. Niko’s shoulders slumped. Back to square one.
“Packie, why don’t we do this a different day, you know, one when we are more sober and it’s not-” his eyes darted around the room for a clock. “Almost three in the morning.”
“This time I’ve got it, the others were just warm-ups!”
So Niko subsided back into the wall and his own jacket more, closing his eyes.
He ended up falling asleep for some time, being awakened by the sound of a bang against a wall. When his vision became less blurred and he assessed where he was, he pieced together it was the sketchbook, as Packie was now pacing in the room, arms folded over his head muttering to himself, a deep frown present across his face.
“Patrick, what’s wrong?” Perhaps Niko could piece it together himself, though he preferred to give the other man room to speak his thoughts out than sit in a brewing silence.
“I wanted it to turn out perfect! But I can’t fucking- nothing is turning out right!” he snapped back, Niko not taking it personally, used to his ill-tempered friend.
“Do you think it could have anything to do with our drunkenness?” Niko hummed out calmly, scooting to the edge of the bed with a sigh, watching the other man pace.
“No! It has nothin’ to fucking do with that- I’ve drawn plenty of times when blackout drunk and it turned out fine.” Packie let out an exasperated sigh himself, coming over to sit next to the Serbian. He looked at his face for a few seconds, Niko feeling his breath hitch from the sudden close attention, only for it to end as Packie turned his head and then curled in on himself with a groan.
“Then perhaps you’re just being too harsh on yourself. What’s the saying, you’re your own worst critic or something?” Niko wasn’t sure how to comfort someone, especially over something as minuscule as this. Packie just let out a scoff at his words which made the other man chuckle a little.
Niko put his hand on the back of the smaller man, giving it a few pats, feeling Patrick tense at first from it then relax again. There was a small silence for a while after that, followed by a sigh.
“Nicky, I wanted this to be great-A fuckin’ perfect for you.” Patrick’s voice was distressed. He assumed the booze made the man more emotional over this tiny issue.
“I assure you, Packie, whatever you make would amaze me, probably. I can’t even draw a stick figure!” Niko tried to assure, his words slurred from the alcohol still in his own system and the tiredness consuming him more and more. Patrick just grunted.
Niko sighed, getting up and grabbing the sketchbook off the floor. He walked back over to Patrick and sat down before turning it over. On the paper laid a very detailed sketch of Niko dozed off against the window. His shoulders were slumped, his expression softer than he’d ever seen anytime looking in the mirror.
“See? It’s all fucked.” Patrick said, smacking the paper to emphasize his annoyance.
“I think it’s very good, Patrick. Did I really look this peaceful, or were you using some artistic liberties to soften these features?” Niko joked, motioning around his face with a smile, Patrick furrowing his brows at him.
“You don’t always look as harsh as you think.” Packie blurted out back to him, catching Niko a little off guard with the sincerity in his tone. Niko just shrugged, not wanting to go into that with them both buzzed. The other man always surprised him with his openness when tipsy, he wouldn’t call it a fault of Patrick’s, just something Niko struggles to adjust to.
“I still think this looks good. You just are being overly harsh.” Niko repeated, tapping his fingers on the paper of the sketchbook, staring down at it. He really looked at peace in a way he’d never seen in himself when looking at the drawing. It was kind of embarrassing, actually. It felt vulnerable.
Niko cleared his throat.
“Could I keep this?” he asked after Patrick hadn’t responded to the last thing he said. Packie blinked in response, seeming to try and process the question asked of him.
“Like, the drawing? You want that?”
“I can’t think of anything else I’d be referring to right now.”
Patrick rolled his eyes at the snarky comeback, just giving him a nod and falling back flat on the bed with a loud sigh.
“If you keep the ugly fuckin’ thing then you owe me staying the night.”
“I planned on it already due to the time,” Niko said as he was falling back on the bed beside the other man.
They both shared another look. Packie’s green eyes were lit by the moonlight coming in from the window, encircling his whole face perfectly to see everything. Niko could even see the light gray tint in his friend’s irises. They’ve been this close many times, they were quite comfortable with each other’s company. Niko still struggled sometimes to grasp how he made a friend like him.
Patrick was the one to break the silence with a laugh that rumbled through his whole chest.
“Sorry, you were just looking at me like I was a chick, Nicky. Caught me off guard! Did that drawing make you fall for me?” Patrick said with a nudge at the other man’s ribs, still laughing through his words. Niko sighed, chuckling lowly himself.
“Says the man who asked to draw me.” Niko calmly retorted back, not having broken his gaze from the giggling man, only to see a flash of red begin to color Patrick’s cheeks.
Ah, that’s the type of look that Niko saves in his mind, though he’s not sure why. He could recall each time and place when the man turned that color very easily. It made a deep part of his stomach twist into knots.
“Dude! I told you it’s not in a weird fucking way- I just, I wanted to,” Niko had a small grin spreading across his face watching the man sit up now trying to explain further. “I wanted to do something to express that I like, our like, b-bond! I wanted to just express in a bro fuckin’ way how you fucking mean to me or some shit!” Patrick exclaimed, groaning and back to holding his head in his hands again.
Niko just chuckled. “I know, Packie, and I appreciate that. I appreciate you.” the last part just slipped out casually, not much thought before it left his lips.
His face felt like it was warming up, even though it wasn’t anything incredibly intense. Niko was not a sentimental person, especially incapable of expressing deep thoughts in English, so he just laid there biting the tip of his tongue hoping it didn’t come off too odd.
Little slip-ups like this happened many times when drunk, though it was usually Packie who said something too open than Niko. Perhaps that’s why they fancy a drink more often these days. Niko appreciated a drunk Packie when he wasn’t drowned by rage or despair. Their friendship felt very close and intertwined in a way Niko never knew how to really word. It was something he held close to his heart, Packie was close to his heart.
“I appreciate you too,” Patrick muttered back, curling up into himself more. Niko stared at him in silence for a little after that with a drowsy smile, before letting his eyes close, hand resting on the other's lower back in support, the heat shooting through him like a blanket from Packie.
There were many unspoken things between him and Patrick, he knew that. Words come out more smoothly, touches happened more naturally, and expressions fell far more casually. It was something neither of them minded, though Niko wasn’t oblivious to a glance others would give them in bars at their openness with each other.
“Do you think I can try to draw you again on a different day? So you can replace that shitty drawing?” Patrick mumbled out, Niko almost not catching it deep in his own thoughts.
Niko quietly chuckled.
“Sure, Packie. I’d like that.”