1/29 (at least here in the USA) prompt list #15 for Rooster or #2 for Jake. Whatever you're feeling I'm not picky! ;*
Let's goooooo! I’m kinda in a Hangman mood but it changes like the weather lmao.
I am working full time for 4 weeks straight starting tomorrow and I’m going to be SO wiped BUT after that I go back for second year of my degree and I’m so excited!!
(watch me get to week 2 and be like nah fuck this for a joke)
After writing this, it occurred to me that I had fucked around for however many words and I was like “mood, vibes. I kinda like it though?” and it got a little Hangster in my sickfic sorry!
(I will most likely come back and write 15 for Rooster too so hang tight to that thought 😂 lowkey want to introduce his OC wife?)
2. "I literally never get sick. Why is this happening?"
Maverick’s instinct was to glance at Rooster when a sneeze echoed through the classroom, but when he seemed mildly confused himself Maverick’s eyes moved over the rest of the room.
“Everyone good?” He said. They all shrugged, but when another sneeze followed by a short cough was heard Maverick followed the sound. He frowned.
“Javy; you okay?”
“I’m fine, sir, it wasn’t me.”
"You’re not telling me- Bagman, really? You?”
Maverick had been with the Daggers for almost a year at that point and he’d seen more than a handful of colds, flus and at least one food poisoning outbreak within his team. Not once had Jake gone down. At one point Phoenix had commented that his snarky attitude scared off the viruses. Rooster had asked how she’d gotten sick in that case and Maverick ended up separating them because he didn’t particularly feel up to peeling Bradley off a wall.
“Wh- psshhhhttt. No, not me sir. It’s a sneeze, it’s not the end of the world.”
“Right... okay, well in that case- let’s go back over the-”
Another sneeze and this time Maverick caught Jake. He smiled.
“Kid, nothing wrong with being sick.”
“I don’t get sick,” Jake huffed. Maverick raised an eyebrow but chose not to question that logic.
“Okay, as I was saying...”
-
Unfortunately the sneezing wasn’t the end of his symptoms. Lining up in the mess, forehead pressed to Rooster’s shoulder in a way that was strangely familiar, like the positions were reversed many years ago in a different fic, Jake let him lead the way through the queue. Phoenix piled food on his plate and then threatened to spit in it if he didn’t take it so she could get her own. Jake knew if he looked up he’d find Maverick keeping an eye on the team but he chose not to, instead finding Javy.
“Dude, got Tylenol?” He asked. Javy reached into his pocket, producing his phone, Airpods, a packet of gum, hand sanitiser... but no Tylenol.
“I’m out,” he said apologetically. Jake waved him off.
“S’fine, I can tough it out.”
“What is it, exactly?” Bob asked. He looked like he was potentially enjoying this considering he was usually one of the first to get sick. Jake glared at him.
“You wanna know, Baby on Board? It’s your mo-”
“-hey, cut it out with the your mom jokes.”
Phoenix finally got to the table, Rooster at her shoulder despite being ahead in the line earlier. Fanboy glanced up from his comic book.
“Bagman’s sick? Can we take a photo, remember this occasion?”
“Cruel, my dude,” Payback grinned, high-fiving.
“I literally never get sick, why is this happening?” Jake huffed, putting his head on the table. Rooster clapped his shoulder as he sat, grinning.
“Welcome to my world, man. You’ll be familiar with my friends; Tylenol, Pepto and Dayquil.”
The rest of the team snickered and Jake tilted his head slightly to the side to glare at the older aviator.
“Are you enjoying this, you asshole?”
“A little, maybe. There was only so much I never get sick I could take.”
“Amen,” the rest of the table said simultaneously. A cry of jinx! broke out across the table but they all burst out laughing. They all fell easily into conversation leaving Rooster and Hangman sitting together just trying to get through lunch. Even the thought of the food on his plate made Jake’s stomach hurt and he pushed his plate toward Rooster.
“Take it,” he said. Rooster shrugged.
“I’m good. You gotta eat something.”
“Yeah, no thanks.”
Waiting until the rest of the team were completely distracted, Bradley leaned over to whisper in Jake’s ear.
“Bathroom, five minutes.”
“Please tell me you’re not propositioning me,” Jake muttered, rubbing at his throbbing temples. He watched Rooster’s moustache twitch.
“When have I ever propositioned you-”
“-need I remind you of the Summer of 2008?” Jake replied. He heard Bradley snort.
“Yeah, you win. C’mon, just meet me in the bathroom in five minutes. Trust me.”
“Fine.”
Rooster made a very sneaky exit from the table, but Jake watched him go over and kneel by where Maverick was eating lunch with the Admirals. Technically, he was an Admiral now too but he refused to be at a desk job all the time. Maverick’s full attention was on his godson the second he approached, listening intently to Bradley, before he nodded. Bradley said something, Maverick rolled his eyes, and then Jake realised it was time to get going.
-
“Bagman.”
“BradBrad.”
“Ugh, that fucking nickname followed me from elementary school to my college graduation and into the Navy. Mav said it the other day right in front of Cyclone and it’s all I’ve heard ever since.”
Jake didn’t even have the energy to laugh, sighing as he leaned against the bathroom sink.
“What have you got for me, Roos?”
“Help.”
Rooster reached into the pocket on the inside of his jacket, producing a travel bottle of Pepto. His pants pocket had a tiny bottle of Tylenol, and then he pulled a full sized water bottle from his jacket sleeve.
“Jesus Christ, have you been smuggling drugs on base?” Jake deadpanned as he cracked open the bottle of Pepto. Downing it all in one go he decided that was the worst shot he’d ever done (and he was familiar with a cowboy cocksucker) so he chased it with the Tylenol and water.
“Give it time to settle,” Rooster suggested. He stepped forward, and Jake was only slightly taken aback by the hand on his forehead.
“You’re warm; Mav said don’t stress about the hops today, he wasn’t going to fly anyone after lunch anyway. Apparently the flight crew don’t like it; too much clean up later.”
Jake snorted.
“Fair enough. Uh, look, Rooster- thanks. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yeah, I did. We’re a team, remember?”
“Apparently I forget,” Jake deadpanned. Rooster rolled his eyes.
“Then don’t, asshole.”
He left the bathroom, door swinging closed behind him, and the nausea in Jake’s stomach started to settle. He sighed, leaning back against one of the sinks.
-
Unfortunately Bradley’s little miracle concoction only lasted until the end of the work day and Jake was shaky as he got into his truck. The passenger door opened and Jake only shit himself for a moment before realising it was Javy.
“Dude; a little warning?” He huffed. Javy rolled his eyes.
“Gimme your keys; I’ll drive you home. You’re too sick to be home alone.”
Jake’s shoulders fell forward and he passed over the keys. They swapped and Jake leaned against the passenger seat.
“Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it. You’ve been surprisingly un-Bagman lately; not that you have to be for us to help you. You close your eyes man, we’ll be back at yours before you know it.”
-
Sure enough, the next time Jake opened his eyes they were pulling into his driveway and Javy glanced over at him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Nauseous.”
“How bad?” Javy asked. In response, Jake yanked his door open and threw up on the concrete. Javy grimaced.
“I saw that coming. Alright; let’s get you inside and into bed.”
Javy appeared, legs out stretched to avoid the events of a minute prior, and they stumbled into Jake’s house. Instead of heading toward the stairs where his bed was, Jake collapsed on the couch.
“Kill me now, I feel like my stomach is going to explode and I think I’m in love with Rooster again.”
“One thing at a- wait. Repeat that second thing again for me?”
