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If someone was to ask Xavi how he got himself into this situation, he would probably tell them to fuck off.
The team was at a hotel, their next match in a couple days. They had been training that afternoon and he had decided to give them the rest of the day off to do whatever they wanted as long as they didn’t cause any trouble for him. Xavi was in his hotel room, thinking about their strategy for the upcoming game when he suddenly heard an urgent sounding knock on his door. His brows furrowed as he went to open it.
In front of him stood a worried Fermín with his arms crossed. “What did you guys do this time...” the man demanded, already mentally preparing himself for whatever stupidity was about to come out of the younger’s mouth. “Gavi’s sick.” well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that. “What?” Xavi was thrown off for a moment. “He vomited... twice...” the midfielder sighs. “Mister, he really doesn’t look good...”
Truth be told, the coach had noticed that he seemed a bit off during practice. Was he hiding his sickness? “Tell him to get his ass over here.” Xavi massages his forehead and temple, already getting a headache. This meant that the kid would be out for the match... and they already had a lack of midfielders due to injury. That was probably the reason Gavi didn’t say anything.
“This idiot...” he left the door open, making room on his bed and tidying up his things while waiting for the player.
-Meanwhile-
“You went and snitched on me!”
Gavi glared at his best friend when he saw him come back after he had specifically told him not to say anything in front of Xavi. “You just threw up on the carpet and on my fucking bed! I’m not gonna sit here quietly, there’s no way you can play on tuesday!” Fermín argued. “He said to get your ass over there.” the younger scoffed. “Thanks a lot, bro.” the other, glared back at him. “I did it for your own good!”
Gavi slams the door shut, heading for the coach’s room a couple doors down. He truly hopes that he doesn’t look as bad as he feels. The midfielder was well aware of the fever he had and, well, the vomiting came out of nowhere. During training, he could only feel the fever effects slowing him down and making his body ache. He must’ve gotten food poisoning or something...
The player stopped just at the door, mentally preparing himself for getting shouted at because there was no way that Xavi didn’t know. He saw the glances he had cast him during practice so he had surely connected the dots by now. Honestly, Gavi should’ve known better than to hide anything from his coach, alas here he was. He knocked uncertainly before stepping in.
Xavi was already standing there in front of him with his arms crossed, glaring. The younger bowed his head down low, not meeting the man’s eyes. “I would whack you on the head, but I don’t want you to puke here as well. You’re lucky Fermín has a bit more brains then you. Get in the bed. I’ll get you a sickbag.” it was almost worse when the coach spoke calmly instead of yelling. “Yes, sir.” he obeyed order.
“How long.”
“This morning... the vomiting after we got back in the hotel...”
“Anything else.”
“I... might have a fever.”
Xavi turned around from rummaging his backpack where he apparently had a couple sickbags. He handed it over to the player and checked his forehead, clicking his tongue. “Low grade for now I’d say. When did you last eat?” the boy stayed silent. “Gavi... you ate lunch?” more silence. “...I only had breakfast because I was feeling nauseous...” he replied quietly. “And you didn’t think you would throw up!?”
“It’s not that bad! I’m feeling fine.” he knows better than to argue with the coach, but right now he didn’t care. The midfielder has to be fine. Xavi stares back at him, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not playing, I don’t care what you think. I can see that you’re unwell, put some trust in your teammates.” the man refutes all his unsaid excuses and Gavi is left feeling bitter. “This is for your own good.”
The player bites back a retort and ultimately sighs in defeat.
***
“Mister, can I-” Gavi cuts himself off, shaking his head. No Xavi would kill him if he asks that... The younger felt hungry, having not eaten anything since that morning. He had already wasted two sickbags with his vomiting so it wasn’t a question if he could. There was one thing he knew he could have, but the coach would never believe him and he was already in enough trouble for lying.
“If this is about the match then you already know my answer.” Xavi replied, not taking his eyes off a sport’s magazine he was reading, sitting on a chair opposite him. “No, it’s not that. Never mind.” this seemingly caught the coach’s attention as he put the magazine down. “Do you need something?” suddenly, the man seemed a bit more gentle than before which caught him off guard for a moment.
“Can I- Can I get some... candy?”
“Wh- candy? Gavi, you’re-”
“I know, but hard candy is actually ‘sick people food’. It’s good for when you can’t keep other food down, like in my case.”
“Who decided hard candy is ‘sick people food?’" Xavi grumbled, but didn’t question it as he stood up and took the room service phone, dialing the number. “I swear, this is just an excuse for you to have sugar.” he mumbled to himself. “Thank you.” the player smiled, softly. “Don’t thank me yet, no one’s picked up the phone. Any specific brand you’re interested in?”
For a moment, Gavi’s not sure if the older’s joking. When he realizes Xavi was expecting an answer, he quickly fumbles. “A-Anything they have.” he appreciated the sentiment, really, he did. The man didn’t have to be taking care of him like this. He could’ve just left him to puke his soul out. Instead, he was doing it here with Xavi by his side, helping hold a sick bag in front of him with one hand and rubbing his back with the other.
“They’ll bring some over in a couple minutes.”
“Mister?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
The coach frowns, sighing to seem annoyed. “Stop thanking me.” he affectionately ruffles his hair, letting the hand rest there until there’s a knock at the door. “Your candy’s hear.” Xavi declares, going to the door to claim it. He quickly thanks the hotel staff member and brings a handful off bags over. “Sir, just one would’ve been fine!?” Gavi huffs out in disbelief. “I’m not letting you eat them all now.” he retorts.
“Take only one first then you can have more and finish this bag later if you don’t throw up.”
“I won’t, I promise - it’s the truth.”
“It’s alright, Gavi. I trust you.”
The player didn’t expect to hear those words, not after trying to hide it all from him. He takes one and after a while, Xavi let’s him grab another. It wasn’t much, but it was definitely better than nothing. “Who even told you about this?” the coach asked some time later. “I saw it on the internet one time, didn’t get a chance to try it out until now. There were some other options but...” the older scoffs, rolling his eyes knowingly.
“Of course you’d choose this one.” Gavi smiles back innocently.