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Courier notices a few things when he awakes: the sun is up, he’s freezing, and SilverAsh is still in their room, in that order.
“Encio?” he manages to say, wincing at the pain in his throat and how weak his voice sounds. “What time is it?”
The average person would struggle to see concern on the other man’s face as he looks up from his book, but Courier notices the slight crease in SilverAsh’s brow and can’t help but to smile fondly.
“It is nine thirty. Your temperature was far too warm earlier this morning, so I have notified Logistics of your absence from work today.”
Courier nods as he sits up properly, attempting to convince himself that Rhodes Island won’t collapse if he stays in the dormitories for one day; it’s not like he had any off-site deliveries scheduled. This leaves an unanswered question, though-
“What about you?” he asks.
SilverAsh returns Tenzin to his perch and crosses the room to sit beside Courier on the bed before answering. “What is the Doctor going to do? Send someone to fetch me?” He laughs drily. “I am needed here,” he adds, gently pressing the back of his hand to Courier’s temple to check his temperature.
“Oh dear, my sweet husband is too intimidating for anyone on this landship to dare steal him away from me! How lucky am I?” Courier jokes, only coughing a little. He mentally claims a victory, seeing his husband amused by his antics. “And I even get to see the fearsome SilverAsh smile for me!”
It is, after all, nearly impossible for anyone who isn’t his family to see SilverAsh with such expressions. By the time he returns to the bedside bearing tea and an extra blanket, though, he has a more distant look on his face.
Courier obediently sips his tea and swallows the medicine SilverAsh seems to have retrieved while Courier was asleep (Warfarin must have been beside herself) before he asks, simply, “What’s wrong, Encio?”
His partner shakes his head. “Do not worry about me. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, I promise! Seriously, what’s on your mind?” SilverAsh doesn’t reply, instead giving him his signature discouraging look to remind Courier not to use his customer service voice at home. “Oh come on, I said I’m fine,” he protests.
“I heard you, but I would like to know how you are feeling.”
Courier huffs. “Well, I’m cold and I can’t breathe through my nose and my throat is scratchy and my head is aching, but at least I’m not too out of it,” he says. SilverAsh nods, and Courier sees his shoulders relax. “Aw, were you worried?”
“Yes. You have been overextending yourself. I thought it might be serious.”
Courier looks down, suddenly shy under the Feline’s gaze. “Warn me before you say something sincere, would you…”
SilverAsh shakes his head. Not out of teasing stubbornness, Courier realizes, and he decides to let SilverAsh hover over him if it makes him feel better. The two are quiet for a moment, before Courier gently prods him again. “Now can you tell me what you’re thinking about?”
He has a hunch, but he waits while the other gathers his thoughts.
“I wish I had not let you leave, back then,” SilverAsh admits quietly.
Courier is both relieved and concerned to find out he was right. Uncharacteristically short of words, he motions for his husband to get closer and takes his hand. At least it’s not a new problem, he thinks.
He told an abridged version of the story to the Doctor when he and the Silverash siblings were sorting through their contracts with Rhodes Island, and a slightly less abridged version to Exusiai when they had some downtime during a shift in the Logistics Department. (Exusiai has an eager and trustworthy demeanor which makes it far too difficult for Courier to keep up his business persona around her.) Courier himself is able to find some humor in it in retrospect; it is pretty funny that he didn’t succumb to the cold until he was frightened out of his wits by one of SilverAsh’s hunting hounds. Not everyone can divest emotions from memories the way Courier can, though, and he knows his husband is his polar opposite in that regard.
And it’s no wonder SilverAsh’s mind is back in Kjerag this morning; the Itra doesn’t fall ill often. Many years ago, Courier had woken up much sicker than he is now in a then-unfamiliar bedroom (he was too exhausted to be properly surprised upon finding out it was inside the SilverAsh mansion at the time). SilverAsh, responsible as he is, had carried him back to his home and proceeded to fuss over him for days as he recovered from hypothermia. Courier supposes he’ll do the same kind of fussing now.
Despite SilverAsh’s best efforts, fourteen-year-old Courier was flighty, afraid of being burdensome, and stubborn most of all. Courier realized as the two continued their friendship through their teen years that it truly wouldn’t have been a burden for one of the three wealthiest Kjerag families to house him, but when the estate’s resident nurse declared him healthy, he was far from ready to accept any fate other than his migrant orphan routine of charming his way into odd jobs.
Courier also realized over time how rarely SilverAsh is openly vulnerable. He really had meant it when he offered to take Courier in, and the worried look he had on his face back then is still generally reserved for his sisters and his husband to this day.
“Thank you for telling me,” Courier finally says, stroking the Feline’s hand with his thumb. “Hey, look at me please,” he asks. SilverAsh obliges, as always. “You can’t blame yourself for my childish decisions, Encio. I’m the one who insisted on suffering,” he says with his usual dramatic flair. He’s glad to see his partner smile slightly at the levity in his tone. “It was a bad habit, you know. I never wanted to ask for anything. You’re the one who made me rethink that, so we’re even!”
“I... was?”
Courier laughs and brings his free hand to his husband’s face, affectionately petting his cheek. “Oh, you poor, oblivious thing. Of course you were, don’t you remember when you came back from Victoria? And I’m not talking about you blowing my back out that night,” he adds, teasing. As he expected, SilverAsh’s face heats up; Courier gets endless enjoyment out of mocking his noble manners. “Lord, I should have told you this when we had our little wedding, but Pram and Ensia would never have let you live it down. They were already sick of us being disgusting saps. But Encio, don’t you know how hard I studied your letters from abroad those three years? Trying to find in them any evidence of the same longing I felt?”
Courier can practically see the pieces falling into place in his husband’s mind.
“When you finally returned,” he starts, feeling the pricking of tears in his eyes (and blaming this on his illness), “and we saw each other, I had no choice other than accepting that I could have something good. Someone good. Kind. Caring. Rightfully protective, most likely.”
“You always deserved kindness, my love,” SilverAsh replies, and Courier has no idea how his partner can plainly say these things without a layer of humor.
“I said warn me if you’re gonna say something sincere, Encio! Goodness…” he looks down at his own lap for a moment, before turning back to SilverAsh in a panic.
“Is something wrong? Tell me what you need, dear, I will get it for you,” SilverAsh pleads.
“Of course something is wrong! It didn’t hit me until now that you can’t blow my back out while I’m in this state! What am I to do…” he brings his hand to his forehead and feigns a fainting spell.
SilverAsh is speechless for a moment, then laughs out loud at the other man’s performance. Courier laughs with him, leaning in for an embrace and deciding that if he loses his voice after today's confessions, it was worth it.
-
Two days later, when Courier is in the infirmary to get clearance to return to his post, Warfarin makes a point to let him know that his husband is strange.
“I mean, I understand when he comes in concerned about Ensia,” she tells him while she’s peering into Courier’s throat, “but you should’ve seen the way he barged in here the other day! All of that to ask for cold medicine! If I wasn’t a good listener, I’d have thought someone was dying!”
It takes all of Courier’s mental fortitude not to burst out laughing.