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Elias Bouchard, head of The Magnus Institute, stepped out of his office at precisely 6:00 PM and Rosie instantly knew something was wrong. She knew this for a multitude of reasons. The first being that Elias was actually leaving his office at closing time, which never happened. The man would happily work until late into the night and then still somehow show up to work the next day at 6:00 AM completely awake and smiling. Rosie wasn’t sure how he did it, but she had some conspiracy theories about haunted coffee that she occasionally shared with the people who worked in the cafeteria. The second was his posture. It was subtle, and if Rosie had spent any less time around Elias she probably would not have picked up on it, but he was tense all over. His face was carefully neutral, unnaturally so, and his stride was quick and hard, not even slowing as he whisked to say anything more than a brief goodbye. He was headed straight for the Archives.
Rosie didn’t envy The Archivist.
Jon idly tapped his pen against the statement on his desk. The rhythmic tap tap tap helped him focus on the words directly infront of him instead of the ever constant stream of less important knowledge that the Beholding was trying to feed him. It was frustrating because Jon really was trying his best to Archive this statement for the Beholding and it was just not cooperating. Jon realized that it was probably a little ridiculous to get irate at an eldritch fear deity for not shutting up, but this did not stop him from sending some resentment in its metaphysical direction. There was a benefit to this feed of facts and information, however, and that was Jon instantly knew the moment that Elias stepped foot into his Archives and he also knew that his Elias needed him right now.
Jon quickly rearranged his desk space so that when Elias stepped quietly into his office, Jon was waiting for him, his comfy office chair positioned infront of his desk instead of behind it for ease of access, and his arms were opened wide. Elias wasted no time throwing himself into Jon’s arms and crawling into his lap. He let out a deep, contented sigh from deep in his chest as he bundled his legs underneath him and buried his face in the crook of Jon’s neck. Jon stroked a hand across Elias back in wide, sweeping motions and held him close with the other arm. They sat like that for a long moment, simply soaking in affection and companionship and safety and love. Jon broke the silence with a gentle, “Rough day?”. Elias grumbled into his skin and Jon held back a laugh, though Elias could most likely feel the rumble in Jon’s chest.
“If I have to sit through a meeting with Nathaniel Lukas one more time, I’m giving up on eternal life and I’ll just die like a regular person,” he complained, pulling his face away from Jon just long enough to get the words out before returning to his attempts to burrow into Jon’s neck. The laugh Jon buried earlier surfaced now as a fond chuckle as Jon pressed kisses to Elias’ head and shoulders.
“If it makes you feel better, I’m sure Lukas hated it just as much as you did.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Why don’t we go home and I run you a nice warm bath? How does that sound, love?”
Jon suggested, leaning away from Elias slightly so he could look at his face. Elias stared back, eyes soft and vulnerable the way they always were when it was just the two of them, alone.
“Yes, let’s go home.”