Work Text:
"Schatz."
It was a testament to how focused Essek had been when, as soon as the sending stone kept at his side lit up and the Zemnian of a familiar timbre entered his mind, he jumped and dropped the piece of chalk he had been writing with. The arcane equation he had been trying to unravel was left with a random streak of chalk across it from the jolt, but it laid quickly forgotten because, while Caleb's voice was familiar, he could tell from just that one word alone that it was slurred.
"It is Caleb. Ja, Beauregard, I need to say that so he—scheisse, you are making me waste words. Essek, I need you to—"
Essek stood still in the laboratory that he shared with Caleb, still feeling that connection from the Sending that would allow him to respond. Before he had the chance to even begin to formulate something to say, a different sending stone activated and a new voice filled his mind.
"Sorry, Hot Boi, that was fucking useless. Come collect your drunk as shit wizard. He keeps trying to bamf home, but we're not letting him."
Unsure if the sigh he let out would be obvious through his response or count as a word, Essek kept himself brief. "Thank you, Beauregard. I will be there shortly."
Essek had not been planning a late night trip to Zadash, even knowing that Caleb had gone that way earlier in the day to go over some Cerberus Assembly-related work with Beau, but luckily his own day of research had stuck largely to the theoretical and left him with most of his higher reserves of magic. Donning his cloak, and apologizing to one of the cats when he needed to dislodge her from it as she had knocked it from its hook to use as a nest, he appeared in the front hall of the Lionett-Nydoorin home to immediately have his boyfriend pushed into his arms.
"Here, he's yours now." Beau gave a little smirk as Essek stumbled, doing his best to take Caleb's weight and fighting the urge to halve his density with a little magic.
"I thought you were working?" Essek asked, perhaps a bit more accusatory than he intended. No, no. He intended it.
"Hey, don't get judgey, War Crimes." A sigh; between all of the nicknames, Essek actually preferred Hot Boi to that one. "It started that way, but Ludinus is being an asshole and sometimes you need to pull out the good stuff to commiserate."
"Ah." Essek's voice was distracted as he tried to parse through Caleb's mix of Zemnian and Undercommon sweet nothings as he buried his face into Essek's neck. "Fair enough."
From the doorway that led to the kitchen, Yasha poked her head out and added, "Hey, Essek. Make sure he drinks some water."
"I will do my best." With that, Essek gave another grateful nod to Beauregard and a moment later he and Caleb were back in their home.
It took a little doing, and a lot of shooing away of wandering hands, but eventually Essek was leading Caleb up the stairs and into their bedroom, coat and scarf hanging in their proper places and boots sitting next to and contrasting against Essek's more dainty flats. One of the cats meandered out of the spare bedroom, chirping in greeting to their father—who immediately got to his knees, giving the cat the love and adoration they deserved and giving Essek the opportunity to go and get the water that Yasha had suggested.
Before long, Essek was seated on the edge of their bed, holding the glass of water as Caleb made himself comfortable on the mattress and in the blankets that Essek had painstakingly chosen when decorating their home. Yet another cat hopped on the bed, immediately curling up on Essek's side and promising to be trouble later when he had to dislodge them to trance.
"Thank you, dear." Caleb reached out toward Essek's cheekbone, his fingers brushing against the dusting of silvery freckles that reflected against the low light of their bedroom. The slurring was less pronounced, but Essek could hear sleepiness at the edge of his voice. "I appreciate your caring for me."
"I will always take care of you, you silly man," Essek murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to Caleb's forehead. His expression was soft, as it so often was when he looked at Caleb, his touch gentle as he tucked a lock of red hair behind a curved ear. With his other hand, he pressed the glass of water into Caleb's. "Now drink up. I will not be blamed for your morning hangover."