Safe

It started with a tickle at the back of his throat.

Nope, not happening.

Unfortunately, denial was never going to be the most useful reaction to oncoming illness. Roxas understood that much—it was why he took a page out of Axel's book and acted. He did absolutely everything he could to avoid it—slept extra well, ate his greens, tossed back magical vitamins and potions and more greens, but this time in liquid form. He drank so much water he spent a good third of his day in the bathroom.

He behaved well damn it, and the universe could show him a little kindness.

Yeah, he thought, to which the little Xigbar voice in his head—which he hoped everyone had—added, as if, kiddo. The universe ain't kind at all, not even a little.

And of course the Xigbar voice was right.

Still when he woke up on Monday morning with a throat full of fire and a nose full of snot, he tried to get on with it. The blankets were thrown back with so much gusto he winced, every bone in his body informing him he was an absolute idiot. When he recovered from that, he got up and nearly tripped in the sheets where they'd slipt off the bed, knocked his knee on the bedside table, and promptly collapsed on the floor.

Even his attempt to swear was thwarted, a garbled, "Fugginchit," all that escaped his burning throat.

"Roxas?" Axel's voice floated in from the kitchen.

He made to rise. He had to. He might be on break at work—just keeping an eye on the worlds, the occasional patrol—but he'd volunteered to help out Hayner with some jobs around Twilight Town, and he needed to check back in with Sora about the recent band of Heartless they'd taken down together.

And the groceries. I need to top up the groceries. Fucking groceries.

Those thoughts all came at once, because they were his reminders that he absolutely could not let Axel catch him—

"Roxas!"

—crumpled on the bedroom floor.

"It's nothing," he said. A quick defense, certainly, but he could tell it hadn't done much by the scowl on Axel's face.

Maybe the fact I sound like the old cat who got into the bee-infested tram yard and learnt the hard way why he shouldn't be there isn't doing me any favors.

"Nothing?" Axel scoffed. "Yeah right." Black boots beat against the bedroom floor, and then Axel had an arm round his back and one under his knees and—up Roxas went, just like a princess.

"Axel!" He croaked.

"You sound awful, you look awful, I walked in on you on the bedroom floor," Axel listed, striding over to the bed. "I'm not your mother babe, so I ain't gonna tell you what to do, but you've been looking like a dying dog for weeks; the 'take me out back pal, it's my time' look, y'know?"

Unwillingly, Roxas laughed, then choked until Axel covered his mouth with a tissue and told him to hack up into it.

"You're sick," Axel said bluntly. "Don't deny it, you look like shit."

"Thanks Axel," Roxas groaned, flopping back against the pillow. "I can't take a day off though. I promised Hayner I'd help him out, remember?"

"Yeah, looked at the calendar this morning—you do too much for me to memorize your schedule anymore, bloody overachiever." It was a whole lot of grumbling really, but Roxas tolerated it while Axel pressed a hand to his forehead and scowled again. "Fucking hell Roxas, you're like one hundred degrees!"

"Hmm, guess I'm pretty hot then."

"Well you're no longer a cute angle that's for sure."

Roxas managed to both groan and laugh at that on and, yeah, still hurts. Ugh.

He didn't really have it in him to protest anymore. His legs and arms ached, his stomach and back and chest all felt like they were full of gross gunk, his head was actually definitely filled with gross gunk, and his throat burned like the deserts of Agrabah—which was a very burny place.

Axel's scowl fell away, declined into an expression Roxas hated. Not an angry sort of hate, just a deep-seated discomfort he couldn't quite dislodge.

He never made those kind of faces back in the Organization. Was it because he didn't have a heart, or because he kept so many secrets, played so many people? The fever-addled part of his brain had so many questions. We talked about it so much back then, trying to figure everything out...I just wanted to understand it all a little more. Just wanted to know we were good this time round, wanted to know we were...safe?

Roxas blinked and—oh. Axel had a hand on his forehead again, all furrowed brows and bitten lips.

"It's actually really bad Roxas. Think you should see a doctor? Or I could get in contact with Yen Sid or someone."

"No just...kinda wanna sleep. Call Hayner and Sora for me?"

A nod. "You first though. Let's get you settled, alright?"

"Yay, my very own naughty nurse."

Axel laughed, lovely even if his eyes were still a little worried. "Right, well if you're making cracks like that I know you'll be okay. Still, this'll be a good test of my bedside manner."

"You have bedside manners?"

"Sick people gotta shut up Roxas, it's good for their health."

The wheezing-slash-hacking at that filled the room at that comment had both Roxas and Axel wincing, but it was nice to still feel like he could laugh even if it wasn't the best thing for his body. Not really feeling its medicinal effects right now though.

So Roxas calmed down, settled back and accepted the wave of ugh damn that flowed over him. The ceiling of his bedroom had gone hazy at the edges, like a mirage, and everything felt just a little too cold, a little too hot.

He didn't really want to get up again, but had to when Axel fetched a set of pajamas from his drawers. The pajamas were unworn; the classic sort of long-sleeved set that didn't really suit Roxas. Axel'd once said he'd found them cute, but even if Roxas loved him he couldn't be assed to dress for him.

Now there was no but it's cute please wear it whining though. Axel was nothing if not serious. The concentration writ on his features was enough that Roxas surrendered himself to be dressed, felt a little warmth flutter in his stomach at the intimacy of the act. Axel even had a towel to wipe him down, make sure he wasn't too gross in his new clothes.

Then he was back in bed, sheets tucked up under his chin. "I'm guessing the potions aren't doing you much good now, but I think we've got a few panaceas that might numb the pain? I'll give Pence or Olette a ring maybe, see if they'll pick some up for us."

"Xion?"

Axel frowned. "Wow, heat's gotten to your brain already? She's off with Aqua right now, getting some training in while on patrols."

Roxas's heart sank. "Oh."

"She'd be here in a sec if she weren't busy, I'm sure. Sucks that when you aren't on-duty it's so 'all hands on deck or we'll fall apart' huh?"

Roxas's heart dropped into his stomach. Axel's did too, judging by his expression and the hand clapped over his mouth. But Axel'd only spoken the truth, and Roxas hoped he could hear his answering I know I'm supposed to be more than this without Roxas having to talk.

Sorry I let you down.

The thought was shocked from him by a touch, cool hands cupping Roxas's cheeks. Axel'd slid to his knees by the bed, leant over him with a rueful smile.

"I didn't mean it like that Roxas. You really are an overachiever y'know? But you don't have to prove anything to anyone, not our friends, not me, and honestly? Not even yourself. And if you're gonna keep being an overachiever, just...lay off for today? For yourself, and for me. The others'll get by. You might be surprised by this, but they're all very competent."

There was a snarky remark on Roxas's lips—except it died, killed by the hand on his face and the gentle press of lips to his brow, and suddenly Roxas was content to admit that yes, his friend's were competent, and yes, maybe he was an overachiever.

All because of a kiss? Maybe. But it felt very good. Kisses and cuddles often do.

He sighed, eased him a little as Axel fussed over him. Axel tried to play it off with the odd comment or jibe, but it was obvious he was being extra careful, shockingly tender with his every action.

He didn't leave Roxas until he had him set up. A dose of panacea, a hot drink, a glass of cool water, blankets tucked in just right, soft tissues and their tiny bedroom bin set just by the bed. A wet cloth was draped over his forehead briefly, then replaced with a soft, dry one to wipe away both water and sweat.

"I've gotta get some food in you," Axel murmured, then added firmly, "and if you've gotta get up tell me. I saw that bruise on your leg."

Roxas flushed, but had no heart to protest. I kinda did fuck up there.

"Just didn't wanna let you down."

"Babe, of the two of us? No one's ever gonna say you're the fuck up, alright?" Another kiss. "Now I've got phone calls to make. Rest up, okay?"

Roxas wished he could. At first it was too hot though, then too cold, and both left his body quaking. The voices that drifted in from the kitchen were a comfort; Axel cancelling appointments and probably calling in a sick day for himself at whatever part-time job he was currently employed at. Something different every day of the week, so long as it has a large lunch break and decent pay.

Something about the thought made him happy—Axel's chaotic nature expressed in such a mundane way. It was difficult to maintain that good humor with the fire in his throat though, and that wasn't the only thing soured by his sickness. The pajamas were nice and soft, but his body ached, felt wrong no matter what he did. He'd fought so many terrible creatures, so many Heartless, and yet here he was, felled by a fever.

Embarrassing maybe, he thought, but not the worst thing.

He sunk deeper into the pillows.

Everything was hazy then. He heard quiet mutterings outside, the occasional footsteps entering and exiting. A savory aroma drifted into the room, familiar, comforting—Axel's special soup, but a little different. Less spicy, maybe. Less scent of spice anyhow.

But it'll still taste good. It always tastes good. Could never quite believe it 'til I tried it though. Who'd believe such a snackaholic could cook?

The warm scent lingered in the air, caught with the steam from the hot tea Axel'd made earlier. Only a little sun intruded through their curtains, just enough to leave Roxas feeling almost cozy. It can't quite cure him of the miserable, snotty, nauseous hell he's in, but it's nice.

He drifted in and out of light and dark, vaguely recalled sipping water or blowing his nose. Sometimes he was alone, sometimes Axel was there, sitting by his bed with a book in his lap.

But he never woke properly. Not when he felt the cool cloth on his forehead, heard soft murmurs, the odd click and clack—food being removed, reheated, and returned? Much later he heard the sounds of another phone call. It was all so much effort.

You care too much Axel. Sorry to get you stuck with another icky job.

Roxas closed his eyes.

 

---

 

The next time Roxas woke he'd actually managed to sleep, deep enough that he hadn't woken when Axel slipped into bed beside him. It isn't a big bed—it's not the one they share, usually, just the one Roxas crashed in when he needed a night alone, or had worked too late and didn't want to wake Axel hopping into their shared one.

But Axel had slipped in behind him, settled Roxas so he could lean his head on his chest, their bodies supported by a larger pile of pillows than Roxas had ever willing set upon his own bed.

It was nice though, comfortable enough that Roxas didn't complain. It hadn't been what had woken him either, the pillows or Axel. He'd just had too much sleep and was too tired for more (and it didn't really matter to Roxas, if that didn't make much sense. There was such thing as too tired for sleep, he thought, and left it at that). He was content simply to lie still, rest without sleeping.

"Y'know, Roxas, I figured this was coming."

Almost, Roxas started. His heart beat up a storm, felt caught despite the fact he had no reason to. Axel didn't know he was awake. The hand on his back rubbed in endless circles, comforting, unaware of his Roxas's awareness.

"You've been working too hard lately," Axel continued, voice low. Roxas doubted he would have been woken by it, had he still be asleep. Had it played a part in the sense of security he'd had while he drifted though? Perhaps. It was a constant reminder that he was still near, still there for him.

He waited, and Axel kept talking.

"Maybe you think I don't notice, but I do. Seriously, you're not subtle, and you get snappy when you're tired. But I didn't...I didn't want to bother you about it, I guess. I know your work matters to you, know being on top of your game matters. I want to support you, not...get in the way of that?"

It sounded like the sort of speech someone gave the mirror—uninhibited, honest, but also awkward, halting, unconcerned with being understood by anyone or clarifying anything.

"But I should've stepped in. You were really bad the last few days, you—you worried me. And I knew this was coming because you can't work as hard as you do without hurting yourself, Roxas. No one can."

Bodies shifted, and Roxas let himself be tugged up further, let Axel cuddle him close. It felt warm, It felt good, it made his shivers still.

"I just...wanna help you out. I wanna be there for you. I don't want you to carry all this alone. We've both had times in our lives where we wouldn't share our burdens, and yeah, I know, it was mostly my fault. Ain't no one else committed that to memory like I have..."

Axel buried his face in his hair. His fingers trailed over his back, arms held him tight, held him together. "But I can't not act on this anymore. I just want you to be safe," he whispered, "I know how strong you are, know you're stronger than me but...sometimes I just wish the hardest thing I had to do was hold you."

Roxas closed his eyes, hadn't even realized he'd opened them to watch the evening sunlight play over their entwined bodies.

Against his will, he sniffed.

Silence, then, "Roxas?"

"Mmh," he was too tired to pretend to be asleep—which was odd, maybe, but Roxas believed it as much as he believed one could be too tired to actually sleep.

A sigh. "How long were you listening?"

"Heard the whole thing, pretty much," he said, voice raspy.

"Oh."

"S'fine. Wish you'd told me."

"I just...didn't want to put it on you. Not something else."

Roxas leant into the crook of Axel's neck, felt warm. "Probably would've been grouchy, but I think I would've come round. S'ppose now I get your point without having to do that though."

A low rumble in Axel's chest, restrained so it didn't jolt Roxas. "S'ppose." Another kiss against his hair.

"Do that and you'll get sick."

"You'll take care of me?"

"No way."

"No way?"

Roxas hummed. "Course I will, dork. Promise I'll return the favor when it's time." I want you safe too, after all.

Any further conversation was avoided then by the loud rumble of his stomach.

It seemed best to just let Axel fuss over him, and Roxas did. He indulged in the softness of his pillows, comfort of his blankets, and Axel's savory soup slipping down his throat. It stung, yes, but it tasted good too—a miracle considering his blocked nose. The little spice there was had his sinuses dripping, which while absolutely gross, was preferable to the stuffed feeling he'd been made to suffer all day.

An official taking of his temperature had him just under one hundred degrees this time, and both he and Axel breathed a sigh of relief.

"Getting better," Roxas murmured.

"And so fast, so soon," Axel said. "Overachiever."

The kiss he gave was tender though, and even if Roxas still felt a little too hot in the mouth, it was good. No sex, not today, but this he could take.

"Axel, did you...could you stay with me tonight?" He paused, added with cheeks reddened by more than fever, "Could we cuddle?"

"Sure babe, just let me tidy up and then we can knock ourselves out."

Of course, Roxas had knocked himself out before Axel'd even made it back into the room, but even asleep, he knew when Axel was there, and when he was safe.

He spent the night cuddled up in Axel's arms and perfectly at ease.

 

---

 

Three days later, Roxas returned the favor.

"Told you so," he said.

"Oh shut up," Axel sniffed, but smiled anyway. "Your turn to keep me safe?"

"My turn to keep you safe," Roxas replied, and kissed him.