#drunk dial

When Nestor’s job revolved around being near his employer almost twenty-four hours a day, he had to make certain ground rules for himself early in his career. One of those being not to get overly involved in his employer’s personal life. It was important to have a cordial, friendly relationship, but beyond that he shouldn’t be the one instructing them on how to live their life. That rule went out the window the moment he met Master Haddock. 

It wasn’t immediate, this meaningful friendship. In fact, Nestor had been the one to offer his services to make up for his horrible error in judgment of his previous employers. Both Haddock and his friend, Tintin, were quick to wave off his apologies not faulting him at all. The guilt still lingered as Nestor went above and beyond his station to make up for his wrongs. Advising Haddock on what was expected of the master of this particular manor. Helping him to pick out fancy clothing, getting him involved in horseback riding, or tickets for performances at the nearest opera house. 

Then Master Tintin came around with another of his mysteries, and any interest Captain Haddock had in fancier living went out the window. Nestor had thought perhaps that was another of his mistakes, getting Haddock to be something he wasn’t when one unexpected night he was invited to drink and smoke with the captain. Captain Haddock had opened up about his drinking problems and how they had been exploited by his treacherous first mate. How he would be either dead or a drunken slob still if it hadn’t been for Tintin, and it was at that moment that Nestor realized two things. 

The first being that despite his hesitation to believe them, Tintin and Haddock had absolutely forgiven Nestor from the first moment the truth about the matter came out. The second realization was a bit harder to absorb because it violated his rule about getting involved in his master’s personal life. However, it was quite obvious to him that Haddock’s regard towards Tintin was quite a bit more than friendly. Dare he say it, Haddock loved the young man. Of course, he kept it closely guarded as it certainly wasn’t his business to get in the middle of it. He noticed little looks, little touches, and hidden smiles that definitely suggested the feeling was mutual. In fact, when Master Tintin let his lease run out so he could move into Marlinspike, Nestor thought for sure that would be the end of the matter. Instead, it somehow got worse.

Nestor wasn’t entirely sure what Master Tintin’s intentions of this arrangement was, but he could see the young man’s frustration mounting every day. There were several times where it danced on the tip of his tongue to tell Haddock that his obliviousness was going to blow up in his face. Still, Nestor stayed in his lane, going back to his rule of not getting involved. Even if these two were starting to make him ever question why that would be a good idea to begin with. Luckily for Nestor, Tintin was too much of a man of action to sit back quietly and watch this go on for too much longer. 

Standing out in the front hall, polishing and dusting the picture frames, Nestor was in the perfect position to hear the tension over the last several months come to a head as shouting carried from the masters’ study.

“Neptune above, Tintin! What exactly is your problem lately?!”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Certainly nothing you would bother noticing!”

“Thundering typhoons! You could drive a man to drink!” 

“It’s not like it would be the first time.”

Silence settled awkwardly in the manor, even making Nestor wince at Tintin’s words. Rather than make his apologies, the ginger marched out the room and down the stairs. His brows pinched, but his eyes shining brightly.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Haddock demanded from the top of the stairs, his words lacking any kind of bite.

“Drinking.” Tintin answered before slamming the front door.

Nestor and Haddock were both left standing there, stunned by the statement as Tintin hardly ever indulged. Heaving a heavy sigh, Haddock stuffed his hands in his pockets, bending his head so his hat hid his expression. 

“Nestor, I’m retiring for the evening, but…can you stay up and see that he makes it home?”

“Of course, Sir.”

Nestor waited until Haddock had completely disappeared from view before slumping against the wall. He was definitely regretting his rule now. He hadn’t quite realized it, but somewhere along the way Haddock and Tintin had come to be his friends. And he hated seeing his friends in such pain. Perhaps…perhaps he should say something to Tintin once he returned.

Continuing on with his chores, Nestor waited and he waited and he waited. Running out of things to do around the house, he settled in the parlor with a book listening intently for the front door. That was why the phone ringing quite suddenly startled him so bad. Who could possibly be calling this late?

“Haddock residence.” Nestor greeted, stifling a yawn.

“Archieee? I’m sooooo sorry!” A slurred voice sobbed into the receiver.

“M-Master Tintin?” Nestor balked in surprise.

“I never should have brought up your drinking, and why would I? Drink is…FFFUN! I don’t want to fffight! I want to love you and make love to you and you make love to me. I want you to…”

After that, the graphic descriptions of all the sexual encounters Tintin wanted had annoyed and flustered Nestor enough to force his hand. He set the phone down on the table, Tintin none the wiser, as he marched upstairs and woke Haddock from his sleep.

“Blistering barnacles, Nestor! Why in the world would you…?”

Haddock’s protests were cut short as he placed the phone against the captain’s ear. Under other circumstances, Nestor might be amused by the deep vermillion shade Haddock managed to turn listening to the drunken ramblings of his younger friend. However, exhaustion weighed heavily on him, and he couldn’t even muster the energy for it.

“Tell him you’re coming to get him.” Nestor ordered with his arms crossed.

Haddock blinked at him as if forgetting Nestor was even there. Carefully, he cleared his voice and shifted his feet to hide the uncomfortable bulge forming between his legs.

“Tintin, lad, what pub are you at?” Haddock asked softly.

There was a pause on the other end before more rambling came through having Haddock scrub his hand over his face.

“Tintin, Tintin! Listen, I’m going to come pick you up. Just…stay there and for the love of everything good, don’t drink anymore.”

Haddock hung up probably more aggressively than he needed to before running his hands over his face. As soon as he opened his eyes again, Nestor was there, holding out the keys to the car. The captain furrowed his brows, muttering under his breath as he swiped the keys out of Nestor’s hands.

“If I may, Sir?” Nestor stopped him before he could step a foot out the open door. 

Haddock turned his head over his shoulder, indicating he was listening.

“While…evocative, Master Tintin may be right now, I don’t believe his feelings are disingenuous. I just thought you might keep that in mind.”

Haddock hesitated a moment longer before leaving without a word. Well, Nestor couldn’t very well go to bed now. And besides, his last request from Haddock was that he stayed up to make sure Master Tintin returned. So Nestor returned to his book, trying to keep from flinching to the window at every outside noise, wondering if they had returned. FInally, lights appeared in the drive. Abandoning his book, Nestor crept towards the window, trying to remain as discreet as he could. Hushed voices rose from the drive, until the darkened silhouettes pressed together in a sweet kiss.