Chapter Text
Jaxon thought himself above sickness. I mean, what good would it do anyone if it were to show itself?
If he were to show it? Sickness prevents bladers like himself from getting out there and giving it all they’ve got, and instead flopping over and violently coughing all over the place.
A true inconvenience at its core.
Because of this, Jaxon did everything he could to avoid it, if doing absolutely nothing accounted for effort.
Getting sick at this point in Team Persona’s climb to the top most certainly meant an entire day stuck inside, getting fussed over. Multi would force him to lay down and rest, barring him from his launcher and the battling stadium.
So, when Jaxon opened his eyes only to be met with the all-too familiar world of pain– that very real possibility of being taken from his one and only (Blading) is what motivated the ex-champion to drag himself halfway out of bed. He sat there for a little while, coercing himself into ignoring the protest of his eyes at the assault of sunlight and the creaking of his bones with every fidgeting movement.
Realistically, if Jaxon was sick it was probably the smart thing to do to actually tell someone, but, among all the things Jaxon liked to call himself, ‘smart’ was not usually one of them.
Jaxon brought his hands to his face, rubbing at his bleary eyes and stretching his back in a silent yawn, careful of the tenseness in his shoulders.
Glancing briefly at his surroundings, Jaxon noticed Robin's snoring figure, the redhead resting peacefully on the futon next to him.
This would be easy.
Robin wasn’t exactly a ‘light sleeper’, but he wasn’t the easiest to rouse either. Jaxon was actually surprised he was the first to wake up this morning, since Robin usually shook him out of whatever lovely dream of sushi or blading he would have.
Blame his outstanding luck on his newfound overwhelming nausea.
Blue eyes became half-lidded and hands grabbed and fumbled for the edge of his mattress, Jaxon trying his best to move.
It really was a pathetic sight.
But really, what was he expected to do? What with his throbbing headache and absolutely parched throat. Not to mention, the pounding in his ears. Absolutely wonderful!
Jaxon grumbled, now practically thrashing about in an attempt to get his muscles to properly work. His muscles in question, however, seemed to be teasing him, keeping him captive in a half-laying, half trying to flop around like a fish out of water.
Jaxon paused, turning around to look at Robin again. If the redhead woke up and saw Jaxon in this state?
Jaxon couldn’t see himself obviously, but his eyes felt as if they were ready to pop up out of his head, his hair was not usually all over the place quite like this, and he could feel his face heating up by the second.
Being the type of person he was, there was a very high probabilty that Robin would insist on getting him to rest as well, maybe even drag him if he didn’t comply.
Turning around again, he came to the conclusion that all Jaxon needed to do was not wake Robin up, and he could shake away this drowsy fuzziness and get to bla–
Dammit!
One wrong shift and Robin’s once-still features lit up like a candle.
“What are you…” Robin had seemingly teleported from where he had been previously fast asleep to a now alert sitting position, fixing Jaxon with a confused and drowsy stare.
Jaxon froze in place.
He had barely moved an inch.
How in the world is that possible.
Is Robin even human?
Well, maybe it wasn’t too hard to assume that all his shuffling around would wake his teammate up, especially since they slept basically right next to each other.
Or maybe, Jaxon wasn’t as graceful as he thought.
Bummer.
Jaxon slowly turned around to face his team captain, trying to mask his expression of utter exhaustion, and honestly, unsolicited hysteria.
Jaxon took note of Robin’s bedhead, the unruly spikes that made up the bird-nest flattened yet somehow fluffy at the same time. It was truly a challenge trying his best to refrain himself from running his hands through his teammates' adorably messy hair.
Robin looked Jaxon up and down, evaluating his less than desirable state and catching onto the blue-blonde haired boy’s predicament almost instantly.
“Woah. You don’t look too… good. Jaxon, you alright?” Robin murmured, one hand in his bright red hair and concern making up his grimace.
Owch.
Jaxon was greatly taken aback; was it that obvious?
“Yup! Tip top shape!” The ex-champion threw in his signature thumbs-up, scrambling for anything, anything to escape that sharp gaze of Robin Kazami. Sweat already began to form from the exertion of squeaking out what– four words? He was honestly impressed with himself!
“Not to come off as rude or anything, but you look like you got hit by a truck.”
Double owch.
Robin sighed, disappointment radiating in waves off the team leader. “You don’t have to lie to me about feeling ‘fine’. You’re obviously not. You look... sick or something. You know we talked about fevers and colds n' stuff and how we can't really afford them right now.” Jaxon furrowed his brow. A lecture from Robin himself? This early in the morning? Absolutely not.
Jaxon brought a weak finger to Robin’s mouth. “Ah ah ah! No lecture right now. Too early.” Jaxon strained at every word, the sentence coming out as more of an undignified squawk. Robin glared at him, fiery eyes losing any signs of slumber and regaining its usual glint.
Avoiding his searing gaze, Jaxon dove headfirst into his pillow. He knew what would happen next. There would be consequences for his sickness, and Jaxon had a feeling that they would consist of boring him half to death. Maybe if he couldn’t hear nor make-out Robin’s words, they wouldn’t count and therefore not waste one of his very valuable brain cells.
“I am going to go downstairs, I am going to ask Ms. Myoden for some medicine, and you are going to rest today. That means no blading, you got me?”
Jaxon’s face hovers above his pillow. He doesn't know exactly why he’s shocked, nor why he’s reacting so strongly, maybe he’s feeling extra delirious today.
“WHAT?!” Jaxon shot up from his pillow, voice cracking. “HOW COULD YOU? NO BLADING?! THIS IS BLASPHEMY!”
His hands waved in exasperation at his sides, while he put on the best pout he could muster.
Jaxon soon decided that he could NOT stand for this- this.. SLANDER! That’s right! This slander on the glorious name of blading! He was getting to that stadium today no matter what!
“Y-you can’t do that!” Jaxon pointed an accusatory finger at the redhead, frowning.
“I can and will.”
While he was contemplating his escape plan, Robin had already gotten out of bed and was currently rolling up his futon, making a point to ignore Jaxon’s whining.
With a ‘hmph’, the ex-champion promptly rolled off his own mattress, instead laying on his side on the cold ground, watching Robin work. Jaxon winced at the sunlight pouring through the window, its brightness becoming stronger by the second as dawn dissolved.
It wasn’t all too bad however, since the sunlight made Robin practically glow golden.
He felt a twinge of jealousy as the redhead moved with ease, rolling up the mattress swiftly and effectively. How lucky he was to be able to move properly and not have bones that acted as if they were in a very serious relationship with the ground.
Once finished putting away his futon, Robin knelt in front of Jaxon’s brooding form.
“Jaxon, why are you on the floor?” Robin stared down at him, amused.
Jaxon stared right back up at him, wanting to wipe that annoying half-smirk off the other’s face. Jaxon solved this problem by turning again, pressing his face against the solid wood.
He grunted unhelpfully.
“Fine. Be that way,” Robin muttered, the floorboards creaking under his feet as Jaxon heard him retreat to the door. “Don’t have too much fun while I get yelled at by Multi for you!” The door closed gently with a creak, and Robin was gone.
Jaxon wondered, could he actually sleep on the wooden floor? He didn’t want to get on the mattress now, he had already made a point about being too stubborn to do so.
Jaxon sighed, shifting to turn upwards and relishing in the silence, aside from the sound of the occasional sniffle and the blood roaring in his ears.
How had he even gotten to this state? He promised Multi his immune system was good, amazing even, but here he lay, inevitably betrayed.
Jaxon stared up vacantly at the ceiling and decided that this, this was where he was going to die. He squinted, a vain attempt to block out the sunlight, but his body was too heavy to move now.
Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a little bit…
Jaxon was woken up by the voice of someone complaining about a fuming Multi, and a disappointed Ms. Myoden.
Can't he just sleep in peace?
“Jaxon?” Someone, or something, shaking Jaxon’s shoulder. He grumbled, eyes shooting back open. Robin was at his side, a glass of water and a tiny pill in hand.
“Did you seriously fall asleep?” Robin questioned, sending him a worried look. “I only left you alone for a few minutes.”
Ah. Right.
Had he really fallen asleep that fast?
Jaxon lifted his upper half off the floor and tilted slightly to the left, towards the wall, head bursting at the seams and stomach queasy.
Jaxon was familiar with nausea, as would anyone at this point in their life, but he was thankfully not all familiar with this splitting-of-the-head situation going on.
“Oh no. Are you going to throw up?” Robin fretted, Jaxon’s barely open eyes darting to the redhead's face.
Robin winced. Jaxon considered that perhaps he did not look too… admirable in this state.
Understandable.
Jaxon was basically slurring now, trying to reassure Robin, console him that really, he was fine. But futile attempts at diverting Robin’s insistence slipped his mind, as another wave of nausea overcame him.
His hands that had been resting on the floor came up to grasp, at anything really, his body shaking.
Robin sat there, albeit awkwardly, Jaxon clenching his arm tight as a vice.
“I need– the bathroom,” Jaxon whispered, barely audible. Robin stared at him, then nodded, standing up and walking over to a table off in the corner of their room to place down the medicinal supplies.
Jaxon tried standing, he really did, but every attempt had him doubling over and collapsing to the ground weakly, groaning in pain.
Robin returned, strong hands grasped his shoulders and he was lifted up off the floor. Jaxon’s limbs flailed for purchase, arms eventually nestling along Robin’s waist and head buried into his neck.
If Jaxon weren’t caught up in his little world of pain he would’ve sworn he saw a blush creep its way up to Robin’s face, admittedly saddened that he couldn’t make it out all too well from this position.
Jaxon leaned against his teammate heavily, staggering as Robin pulled him along.
In record time they had made it to the restroom across the hall and Jaxon sprinted inside with a sudden burst of energy, lifting the lid off the toilet.
Jaxon pulled his messy hair out of his face and gagged.
Robin trailed after him, a look of disturbance resting along his eyebrows, watching Jaxon spew out the remnants of his nausea.
He eventually came to kneel beside him, patting Jaxon on the back half-heartedly.
“..Feeling a bit better?” Robin questioned, voice soft. Jaxon coughed violently, a reminder of the severe parchment in his throat.
His head lifted from the toilet, body shaking from the aftermath.
He gave a quivering smile to Robin before collapsing in on himself, staring blankly at the floor, reduced to a disgusting puddle of pity.
Robin was having none of this, however. He stood up and dragged a softly whining Jaxon with him, manhandling him all the way to the sink while still trying his best to avoid touching on the freshly stained parts of his shirt.
“You should probably clean up,” Robin suggested, standing a little ways from Jaxon’s back. Jaxon gave a little tired sigh.
Robin stood there still, waiting for Jaxon to move.
Another sigh.
Robin huffed in a way to fill the awkward silence as he waited, ever patient for Jaxon to get rid of the muck on his face.
Jaxon blanked. Did Robin seriously expect him to move right now?
In a silent protest, Jaxon’s head lolled forward a bit, now starting to snooze.
Robin seemed to eventually realize that in this state, Jaxon was of no use to himself.
Really, the ex-champion felt like some weird meat-blob that was barely conscious and about to pass out.
Robin reluctantly left Jaxon to stand there in front of the sink as he searched the cabinets for a towel.
Jaxon stared after him, a laugh turning into another violent coughing fit when Robin banged his toe on the doorframe, cursing.
Robin glared at him, “Not funny,” he grumbled.
The redhead gave Jaxon a light-hearted shove with his hips, an action that caused Jaxon to flinch and for his already red face to blush mildly, making way for him to wet the towel he had found, the sound of trickling water echoing off the walls.
Robin turned to Jaxon, using his free hand to lift his chin for better access; quickly dabbing at little specks of vomit at the corners of his lips. Jaxon stared, miraculously quiet and eyes droopy, as Robin worked.
“Sorry that you have to go through this, Jaxon.” Robin squinted in commiseration, moving the towel from Jaxon’s mouth to rub at his shirt, effectively tilting his chin upwards to get to his collar easier.
Jaxon was trying his best not to freak out. It would be so easy. All Robin had to do was lean forward and–
The cloth was suddenly drawn away, the hand that was forcing Jaxon’s head around dropping to his teammates side.
Was it odd that he felt disappointed with the withdrawal of the redhead’s touch?
“I’ll be fine,” Jaxon mumbled, a belated reply to Robin’s earlier comment. Robin gave him a sharp side-eye while tossing the towel into the laundry pile by the door.
“Ah huh. And you didn’t just puke your guts out,” Robin snorted, appearing beside him again.
“Now come on, let's go get you your medicine all right?” Jaxon nodded blankly as Robin pulled him along, registering with a stupid jump of his heart that Robin had grabbed his hand.
Frankly, he did not understand a word his teammate said, opting to play along and hope he didn’t agree to something stupid.
The door to their bedroom opened with a small creak, Jaxon staggering after Robin clumsily as he retrieved the pill and water, then sat down onto his futon in front of him.
“Open your mouth please.” Robin turned, gesturing to him with the weird little pill. Jaxon got the motion, opening his mouth in a half-yawn.
Robin placed the pill on his tongue almost haphazardly, which Jaxon could sort of understand. It would be weird to reach into someone's mouth like that, wouldn’t it be?
Jaxon tried not to gag; the taste of the pill was nowhere near pleasant.
While Robin chattered away quietly, talking in a manner that suggested to Jaxon he was trying to lightly joke with him, the ex-champion just sat there, mind occupied by hazy thoughts and ridiculous questions that appeared and disappeared out of focus.
He was suddenly very grateful to Robin, wondering if he were in Jaxon’s place, would Jaxon even have the skill– or attention-span– to patiently take care of someone like this?
His amazement at the boy in front of him came to a slow halt when Robin picked up the glass of water, Jaxon realizing with dread that the one of the objectively worst parts of being sick was coming up. Robin gave a little look of confusion at Jaxon’s suddenly disgusted expression.
Jaxon wasn’t picky, no, but the prospect of straight up swallowing a weird little sphere with engraved numbers on it like he was some sort of test subject felt icky. Especially if said pill tasted like dried sand. Robin paused with the water, clearly wondering how this would work, before Jaxon took hold of the glass (Their hands slightly brushing, he noticed).
He stared at the reflective water, at his expression. God he looked so disgruntled.
Shrugging, Jaxon brought the water up to his mouth and swallowed, trying not to think of anything that might make him choke.
Thankfully, he didn’t.
Jaxon: 1, Pill: 0.
He gave the glass back to Robin (Their fingers brushing again HOLY SHI-), and coughed lightly into his arm.
“Eugh. Never make me do that again,” Jaxon muttered, earning a muffled laugh from Robin.
“What? It’s not funny! Pills are a severe choking hazard and I don’t want my grave to read: Jaxon Cross, death by medical pill. That’s a horrible way to go out!”
Robin laughed again, harder. Jaxon pouted.
“Plus, they taste really bad.”
“Just– heehee– glad to know you’re feeling a bit better.” Robin smiled at him, a hand reaching up to ruffle Jaxon’s hair affectionately.
“If you’re feeling well enough to make jokes then you’re sure to get better in no time!”
Jaxon smiled a bit in return, hoping it was true, that tomorrow he would wake up and his throat wouldn’t be trying to claw its way out of his mouth.
But, alas, before he could respond (Something along the lines of ‘I wasn’t trying to make a joke’), he went out on another coughing fit, Robin’s hand darting from his hair and straight to his back.
Jaxon groaned, did the pill make it worse or is Jaxon just like this?
It was probably the latter.
Curse you, immune system.
Robin patted his back sympathetically, clearly a bit disgusted but still not darting away just yet.
Jaxon could hear the clink of the half-empty cup on the ground near the foot of his futon.
If Chrome were here he would probably be fussing over Jaxon way too much for any sane person's liking; locking him up in solitary confinement and getting him the best medicine that could ever grace this earth.
Those gestures were sweet, sure, but it felt nicer when it was Robin here with him.
Not overreacting, just… calm. Empathetic. Steady.
His little grounding force in the haze that was the pounding of his head.
Once Jaxon was done with coughing his guts out, he leaned forward, resting his head on Robin’s shoulder.
He wondered if Robin would be uncomfortable with Jaxon being too close to him, since he was sick and all.
Robin’s breathing hitched ever so slightly, an effect that Jaxon always seemed to have on him, even if the ex-champion himself never really understood the ‘why’ behind it.
He leaned forward even heavier on the redhead, quickly feeling more exhausted by the minute and wanting nothing more than to sink into the floor and perish.
Maybe Robin would let him die on his shoulder. That wasn’t too bad a way for it all to end when put up against the pill route.
Jaxon Cross: death by Robin Kazami being ̶t̶o̶t̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶a̶d̶o̶r̶a̶b̶l̶e̶ too comfortable.
Yea, that sounded much better.
“Uhm, Jaxon?” The sound of Robin’s voice, dangerously close to his ear, dragged him out of imagining all the possible ways he could die happy.
“Hmm..?” Jaxon murmured back, arms quickly making use of themselves and wrapping Robin in a weak attempt at a hug.
Robin’s next words stuttered cutely, his hands awkwardly hovering over Jaxon’s back.
Jaxon buried his face into Robin’s shoulder even more, concluding that this is where he would have his second nap of the day.
Robin smelled of mint and oranges, a combination Jaxon thought he could never actually consider.
“Seriously–”
“Shhhhhh. Lemme sleeep...” Jaxon’s grip around Robin tightened indignantly, doing everything in his very limited power to keep Robin there forever.
In the end, Robin was the eventual winner in the physical battle, and Jaxon was torn free of his heat source.
“Noooo…” Jaxon whined, hands grasping for Robin dazeily, the redhead keeping him away with a single arm.
Jaxon huffed, eyes barely open and arms crossed.
“Why did you push me away?” He questioned, trying to make his voice sound as menacing as possible, but really, in his state? That was not happening.
“Jaxon, I can’t let you sleep on me all day. I have some morning errands to run.” Jaxon narrowed his eyebrows.
“Why.”
“Because I have responsibilities.”
“Boooooooo..” Jaxon trailed off, yawning.
Robin smiled at him tenderly, sturdy, grounding hands pushing the ex-champion gently onto his pillow.
He lifted himself off the ground with a shuffle of feet, prying his arm out of Jaxon’s last desperate grab.
“I’ll be back in a bit, okay?” Jaxon nodded along numbly, sleep already pulling at the edges of his vision. Robin patted his head reassuringly.
“Then you can sleep on me for how long you want. Deal?”
Jaxon helped Robin with getting the futon’s comforter to be actually over him, this proving to be difficult because Jaxon refused to lift himself up at all. Once their goal had been accomplished, Jaxon sighed contently and snuggled the side of his face into Robin’s palm. He blinked up at him slowly, registering the question.
“Deal.”