Chapter Text
Living with Essek Theyless is strange, Caleb finds, after Essek moves into his small cottage in Rexxentrum shortly after the Mighty Nein part ways. Despite the initial strangeness, it proves to be absolutely delightful.
Caleb easily falls into their new routine. It’s pleasant, not living with the possibility that each day could very well be his last, especially as the group’s squishy wizard. Each passing day with Essek is a gift.
He’s not sure what he did to deserve him, to be the one who gets to see Essek’s true nature behind the cold mask of the Shadowhand of Den Theyless, but damn him if he won’t spend the rest of his life savoring that opportunity.
There are particular moments that stand out to Caleb, where he knows that he’s seeing a special part of Essek that’s reserved for the people closest to him.
The first comes a month into Caleb’s first semester teaching. It’s a gloomy day, the chill creeping in, causing Caleb to wrap himself up in layers and scarves to go to work. On his walk to the Soltryce Academy, the fresh snowfall crunches under his feet.
By this point in the semester, he’s fallen into the steady routine of teaching. His students seem to like him, happy to engage in class. Sometimes, they attempt to pull him off topic. He indulges them from time to time as they pester him about his personal life, his cats, anything that isn’t transmutation. He carefully tiptoes around the topic of his partner, something he has to be vague about for Essek’s safety, but his students don’t seem to mind all that much apart from groaning.
He’s also fallen into the routine of grading and preparing lessons, most of which he does in the small office that branches off of his classroom. However, when he dismisses his final class of the day at two o’clock, his plans to stay late finishing up grading seems unpleasant and he makes the decision to head home. The idea of curling up on the couch with Essek while working is much more satisfying.
After a short walk home across campus and beyond, he returns to his small cottage, tucked in the edge of the forest surrounding the Soltryce Academy. When he bought it, it was run down, but the Mighty Nein quickly refurbished it with him. Caduceus and Yasha spruced up the grass in the front, they painted the walls both inside and out, along with the back porch, and helped Essek plant a garden in the spacious backyard and flowers in the front of the porch.
They focused more on the inside, the atmosphere cozy and comforting with plush furniture. It’s incredibly cramped with the whole group, especially since they turned the guest bedroom into a small library, but it’s perfect for just him and Essek with Beau or Yasha often dropping by.
Opening the front door, it’s quiet inside except for the chilly, whistling wind outside and the crackling of the fireplace across the room. He closes the door gently behind him, the movement rattling the old walls, and within seconds, three cats are winding around his feet, meowing. Caleb can only quiet them by kneeling down and scratching their little heads as they push their faces against his knees, leaving cat hair behind as a gift.
After hanging up his scarf and coat, now just wearing dark brown trousers and a maroon sweater with the collar of a white button-up shirt peeking out of it, he kicks off his shoes and steps further into the house, walking down the long hallway to the living room. As he gets closer to the back of the couch, he spots the reason behind the peace.
Essek’s body stretches across the couch, covered in Caleb’s favorite wool blanket, a throw pillow beneath his head. His shoulders and chest rise and fall with slow, even breaths, face devoid of any tension.
He’s peaceful like this, one hand curled up in front of his face, the palm of the other against the couch cushion. Strands of hair fall across his forehead and into his face.
He has no right to be so adorable. Essek, who insists that elves don’t need sleep and that he is included in that, naps in the warmth of the fireplace in the middle of the afternoon like one of their cats.
Caleb doesn’t have the heart to disturb him, at least not yet. He walks to the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes, petting his newest kitten Ardal along the way, barely containing a laugh as the clumsy kitten trips over his own feet while trying to trip Caleb up.
As he wanders back to the living room, dressed in loose sleep clothes, he tugs his hair out of its tie and lets it fall around his shoulders. It’s getting long, but Essek loves it, so he’s not in much of a hurry to cut it.
Grabbing some of his students’ papers from his bag, he sits in the plush armchair in the corner with a large book to write against, the pot of ink delicately balancing on the large arm of the chair.
He gets lost in his work, occasionally glancing at Essek, who continues to sleep peacefully, Ardal curled by his feet and Frauke by his side, leaning her head on Essek’s hip, Liebe nowhere to be seen. Each time, he smiles brightly and comes up with new ways to tease Essek when he wakes.
The hour grows later, nearing dinner time, and Caleb figures it’s time to wake him up before it gets too late. He sets aside his work, having made good progress, and stands up, wincing as the joints in his knees crack. It’s a painful reminder that he’s getting older.
He shuffles to the couch, kneeling beside it and reaching out a hand to gently pet Essek’s hair, murmung, “It’s time to wake up, schatz.”
Essek makes an agitated hum, legs and hips shifting slightly before falling still again. Caleb chuckles. “Essek, wake up,” he repeats louder, brushing the hair from his forehead and pressing a kiss there.
With a small groan, Essek stirs properly, though makes no attempt at opening his eyes. He sniffs and shifts his face, burying his face into the pillow beneath his head. Feeling like he’s quickly losing him again, Caleb says, “How was your nap, Mr. Elves Don’t Sleep?”
Essek doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and just as Caleb’s about to pester him again, his shoulders and back shake with muffled coughs into the pillow, sounding chesty and painful. Caleb frowns and asks, “Are you feeling alright?”
“Light, I feel awful,” he mumbles. Even muffled, his voice is scratchy and barely above a whisper.
Caleb slides a hand down from his hair to his forehead, humming at the burning of the skin. “That’s quite the fever,” he comments, leaning forward to press a kiss to his temple. “Did you just start feeling like this today?”
“This morning,” he says, shifting his head to face Caleb. A hand comes out from the blanket to cover his coughs before collapsing onto the cushion. In a shaky voice, he asks, “Am I dying?”
“No, no,” Caleb says quickly, “you are not dying. I’m sure it’s just at least a cold, a flu at the worst. You will beat this in just a few days, as long as you take it easy and rest. Do you think you could get some food into you?”
Essek doesn’t reply, eyes darting away from his face, and he adds, “Just a little bit? I’ll get you something light, and whatever you can get down will be enough.”
“Fine,” Essek agrees, and Caleb smiles and stands, heading to the kitchen to find something suitable for Essek.
In the end, he makes a simple soup, nothing so complicated that would keep Essek waiting. In the process of preparing it, he winces at every cough coming from the couch, followed by the occasional groan or sigh. Eventually, he returns to the living room, placing the soup on the table beside the couch.
“Alright, you’re going to have to sit up,” Caleb says. Reluctantly, Essek pushes himself up, face scrunching up.
“Why does my body hurt?”
“Sounds like the flu,” Caleb says. He had it once when he was a child, and the all-to-familiar guilt and grief creeps up as he remembers being stuck in bed for a week, his parents taking turns caring for him. He rubs Essek’s shoulder and hands him the soup. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so miserable, schatz. I had a similar illness when I was a child, so hopefully I’ll be able to get you back to normal in no time.” He probably shouldn’t be promising a quick recovery to him, but aren’t elven immune systems stronger? A little hope will do Essek some good.
Caleb sits beside him while he gets down as much soup as he can, impressively draining the bowl before placing it back onto the table. He leans into Caleb, tucking his face between the juncture of his jaw and neck, sneaking a hand over his mouth to cough.
“Do humans actually have to deal with this?” he asks, face scrunching up.
“Well, it’s usually not this bad, but yes. I can get away with fighting through a cough and a sniffle for a few days until I’m feeling like myself again.”
“I’m sorry,” Essek mumbles, and he chuckles.
“It’s alright. It’s not so bad when someone’s there to take care of you.” Caleb wraps an arm around his shoulder and kisses his disheveled hair. “Would you like to move to bed?”
“Not yet,” he says, shifting closer to Caleb. Abruptly, he sits up with wide eyes. “Oh, you must have work to do for tomorrow.”
“It’s alright,” Caleb says, rubbing a thumb over his shoulder. “I did the majority of it while you were napping, and my students won’t die while waiting another day for their papers back.”
The words don’t seem to reach him. Essek looks down, sniffing, and Caleb’s heart sinks. “Essek-”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice shaky and thick. “I sho- should let you work. I’ll go to bed.” He goes to stand up, but Caleb grabs his hand and tugs him back down.
“No, Essek, I promise you, it’s alright. Nothing pressing needs to be done tonight. You have no reason to be sorry.”
Despite this, Essek seems more distraught, face tense as he sniffs again. Barely audible, he says on a trembling exhale, “Caleb, I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
Caleb places his hands on his shoulders and turns to Essek to face him. Now that they’re facing each other, tears sparkle in his eyes. “Listen to me,” Caleb murmurs, keeping his voice as low, steady, and comforting as possible. “Your body is just fighting something, alright? You may feel awful now, but you’re going to get better, I’ll make sure of it. In the meantime, I’ll keep you feeling as comfortable as possible.”
Essek chokes on a mixture of a cough and a sob, tears growing in his eyes. “Oh, come here, schatz,” he breathes out, dragging Essek into a hug. Essek buries his head in his shoulder, chokes on a shuddering breath, but Caleb never feels moisture seep into his shirt. Rubbing circles on his back, he says, “You’re alright, I promise.”
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” Essek says, gasping.
“You’re alright,” Caleb repeats hurriedly. “I believe being sick can make you more… emotional. It wouldn’t surprise me, especially since you aren’t used to this. Just breathe.”
Essek sucks in a shaky breath, coughing it out immediately after, and Caleb takes an exemplary deep breath. Essek follows. “Very good, just like that.”
Over the course of a few minutes, Essek’s breathing evens out. Caleb rubs his back all the way through, hugging him firmly. In the minutes following, Essek sags more and more into him. “I think we should get you in bed. It’s much more comfortable than my shoulder, I promise you.”
Essek nods, sniffling, but not moving a muscle. Caleb holds him for another moment before unwrapping his arms from around him, moving off of the couch and pulling Essek to his feet. Steering him with one hand on the small of his back, he leads Essek down the hallway and up the stairs to their bedroom, pulling back the covers and guiding him into bed.
Essek falls onto it without any hesitation and Caleb pulls the blankets over him, sitting beside him. “Do you need anything?” Caleb asks.
“My, ah, head is killing me.”
He hums and thinks for a moment. “Let me rack Caduceus’s brain, maybe he has a miracle headache cure. You think you can fall asleep?” Essek nods. “Good. I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be back soon.”
Caleb exits the bedroom as quietly as possible, extinguishing the lights behind him and heading downstairs to send Caduceus a message.
“Caduceus, I’m afraid Essek’s fallen ill. Do you have any headache remedies? Anything for colds will do, as well. He’s rather uncomfortable at the moment.” He basks in his victory of reaching exactly twenty-five words until Caduceus’s voice pops into his head.
“When Yasha was sick, some tea did the trick. If she doesn’t have some left, you may pick some up here.”
Caleb directs his next message to Yasha. “Yasha, Caduceus sent me your way for some tea. Essek’s sick. Do you have any left? I’ll come pick it up”
A few moments pass before she responds, “Yes, I do. Don’t worry, Caleb, I’ll bring it over. Just give me an hour or two, unless it’s an emergency.”
Caleb casts again. “No, no, take your time, although sooner is probably better. Thank you, Yasha.”
“Of course, anytime. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
With that done, Caleb goes to prepare food for himself, listening intently for any movement upstairs. His meal is much more filling than Essek’s, and in the middle of eating, there’s a knock on the door.
Yasha stands outside, holding a box in her hands. “Yasha, thank you so much for delivering it.”
“Of course,” she says, handing it over. “There’s not too much left, but enough for a few cups, at least. I hope it makes him feel better.”
“Me, as well,” he says. “I don’t think he’s ever been sick before, so it’s quite a shock.”
“I’d imagine,” she replies, smiling. “If you need me to deliver anything else, just say so, alright? I’d be happy to run errands for you.”
“Thank you, truly,” he says, nodding. “Now, let me finish up my dinner and make a cup of this for Essek.”
“Of course, Caleb. I’ll see you around.”
With that, they part, Caleb closing the door behind him. He shovels down the rest of his food and makes Essek a cup, taking a small sip as a sample for himself. It doesn’t taste bad, per say, just… strange. He hopes it’s worth it.
Carefully, he carries it up the stairs and slowly opens the bedroom door, placing the mug on the bedside table. “Essek?” he asks, receiving a small, groggy groan in response. “Sorry to wake you. I messaged Caduceus, and he sent me to Yasha for some tea. Apparently it helped her when she was sick not too long ago. I hope it helps you.”
Essek slowly pushes himself up, yawning and coughing into his hand. Caleb hands him the tea, which he carefully sips on, and sits down beside him. Essek’s face shifts into a strange expression. “Weird, right?”
Essek looks down into the mug. “I’m not sure if I like it or not.”
He chuckles. “I have to ask Caduceus what’s in it. I guess it’s supposed to cure you instead of tasting good.”
Essek takes another sip. “How long is this going to last?”
“Depends. With your immune system, probably a couple days at the most. I was down for a week when I was a child, but I was also young.” Caleb wraps an arm around his shoulders. “However long, I’ll be here to take care of you.”
Essek leans into his side, humming softly. “And magic can’t treat this?”
“I don’t think so, no. Jester tried once when I had a cold, and nothing happened. Besides, your immune system is getting even stronger right now, so toughing it out can’t hurt.”
“It definitely hurts,” he rasps, and Caleb chuckles, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“I’m sorry. Finish your tea and go back to bed, if you’d like. I’ll even read to you.”
That brings a smile to Essek’s face. “Please do. Any book you’d like.”
Caleb goes to the library, picking out the book his mother always used to read him—Der Katzenprints. He’s never shown Essek this book, and one day, he’ll have to read it to him when Essek’s more than half-conscious.
When he returns to the bedroom, Essek’s lying beneath the covers, eyes closed. Caleb carefully slides in next to him, laying on his back, allowing Essek to curl up at his side, head resting on his shoulder so he can see the book well. “What’s this?” Essek asks.
“A book from my childhood. It’s in Zemnian, but I will translate for you.”
In a soft voice, he begins reading. He knows this book well enough that he barely has to actively translate, having told the story to Jester in Common many times.
A few pages in, Essek’s eyes close. Halfway through the book, his breathing is slow and even, his sniffling subsiding. Caleb finishes the book even with his exhausted, sick boyfriend fast asleep on his shoulder.