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Jongler prided themself on being reliable.
They liked being a sturdy shoulder to lean on, the voice of reason, and, most importantly, a helpful friend. Or employee really. Mike was all of these things, and usually Jongler enjoyed their job, regardless of how much work they may have had to put into it. And usually, they'd be proud of being better at picking up on when they themself were worked to the brink, probably since they were already used to the same antics from the others (especially a certain small green die).
But they find that at this point, run ragged and stretched thin by this year's busy holiday season at TV Time's Studio (tm), they really are too tired to notice, or to care really.
It's Christmas eve, one of the, if not the most, busiest nights at the Studio. Tenna's non-stop orders grate at their non-existent ears, and the tight and scratchy fabric of their Mike suit feels like its buzzing and made it's way under their skin, accentuating the strangely heavy warmth that has started to weigh on their shoulders and the space behind their eye. They're about ready to collapse not even 3/4ths into their shift, limbs dragging downwards and head aching with cotton. Their actions are sluggish, and even Tenna’s noticing. They can’t get themselves to really bother though.
After about half an hour of stumbling around, half-way to puking, they’re pulled aside by their small green die of a partner.
”Hey, Jongler, are you good?”
”Yeah, m’alright… Why?”
"Pluey's been working at the lights tonight, and she noticed you weren't looking too hot."
"M'fine boss, jus'... Jus' a bit tired."
A fair excuse, and something the other himself had said all too often, but that just meant he knew full well when an ‘I’m fine’ really meant that something was wrong.
“Tch.. You’ve really got to get better at lying. C’mon, Pluey can take over your shift.”
Jongler couldn’t even begin to think up a retort about the other’s similar habits before exhaustion pulled their eyelid close and gravity took hold of them, dragging both their body and consciousness down. They can't help but feel relief when they finally go under, even if their fall is punctuated by a squawk of alarm from the die that feels so distant yet so close.
When they awoke, swaddled by a mountain of soft blankets and cushions, the first thing that greets them are two frantic-looking eyes, a worried shade of green that they quickly recognise as their partner's.
"Jon, oh good, you're awake!"
Battat quickly adjusted their pillows, propping them up on the headboard while still keeping them cozily swamped with the warm blankets. He talked up a rampage, quietly scolding them like a mama hen for 'worrying me and Pluey sick, just collapsing like that on me!'. Jongler had the grace to feel a bit sorry.
The short die then pressed the back of a palm to their forehead, muttering something under his breath about overworking and... hypocrisy?
“Well, your fever broke so that’s good, but you’ve still got to get more rest. What were you thinking, you rubberbrain, going on-shift while being sick like this?! And I thought you were the responsible one. Hmph.”
He stopped when he noticed the other staring silently at him, a bit wide-eyed from seeing the usually ‘stoic’ (AKA usually feigning nonchalance) darkner being so openly... Caring, for lack of a better term. Even when the trio officially got together, Jongler knew the die still had some trouble being openly concerned with others. Well openly anything, actually. They're glad they get to see him so naturally genuine like this, and for this ol' Zapper themself no less.
A green tint of embarrassment to match the other’s fever-flush grew on Battat's plastic pale cheeks, and he suddenly stuttered out a lame excuse to leave.
“W-well, whatever then! I’m– I–, fuck! I’m gonna go get your soup, so.. So just lie down and– an– ugh!- And just don’t do anything stupid y-you dolt!”
It was a bit funny, Jongler had to admit, seeing their boyfriend rush out in a flustered mess, but
Before they can doze off though, the die walks back in, balancing a tray with a small bowl of what seemed to be chicken soup and a glass of water. The smaller darkner stumbles his way to the bedside, before promptly nudging a spoon of the stew to Jongler's 'mouth' (None of them are really sure of what it is, zapper anatomy being rather confusing to most, but it got the job of consuming done so that was what it was called).
"Eat up, Jon, you've got to get something in your system before you fall asleep again."
They get through a couple of spoonfuls, about a bit more than half of the bowl, in complete silence before they don't feel like eating any more. For a few more seconds, the silence extends, and Battat starts fidgeting. Jongler can pick up on this immediately, attuned to the tells of their partners. Is he anxious about something? Probably about how Tenna's faring with the sudden change in Mike shifts. Jongler feels bad for making Pluey pick up their shift so early on, especially during this holiday week.
"How's Plues?"
"They're doing okay, she was glad to pick up your shift anyways, actually."
"Ah, are youse sure? I can take up another one of theirs when I'm better. It was pretty busy when I, uh... left."
"Dumbass, there's no need for that. You were sick, and literally nobody minds if you've got to take a day or two off."
"Yeah, but-"
They're cut off by a small, but gentle, bonk to the head. It's more like a slight tap of the palm than anything, but it's enough to cut them off.
"Hey, aren't you supposed to be the one telling us 'No buts when it comes to your health'?"
They huff a small laugh at this, and they resign to their fate of blanket prison while their partner pushes them down to be laying again.
"And anyways, 'Mike's gonna be taking a break after this, so we can spend tomorrow just lounging with each other... or something."
"Really? How'd youse get Tenna to agree to that?"
"..Mike has his ways."
Jongler thinks they're a bit too tired to ponder on that, so they obediently shut their eye and allows themself to lay down.
This time, they drift off for a while.
And then they wake up again to the noisy ping of their phone, settled on the bedside drawer.
The zapper feels better now at least, their head is clearer than it was before, and they don’t feel like throwing up as much as they did before. They pick up the phone, clicking it open to see a few messages from their favourite kitty-cat.
- heyyyy jon, r yu awake yet???
yep, i'm awake -
what is it :]? -
- eee haii come join us on the couchhhh (˶ > ₃ < ˶) we hav drinksss wwww
- oh wait onli if yur feeling okai enough ofc ofcc!!
- heh i cna make batts come n help yu if yu need ehehehehe (^ ᗜ ^)
haha nah, it's fine plues, i can get there on my own -
- (o ^ o) awww r yu sure??
yeah, thanks 4 the offer though <3-
Jongler then sluggishly pulls themself out of the bed, dragging their legs (leg? miketwt im not arguing with you on this in the comments just SHHH) across the room.
The sight that greets them when they get to the living room is warm, and cozy in the way that makes them smile.
Battat's making hot cocoa, pouring it into two familiar mugs on the counter, and Jongler has to stifle a small smile at the Hello-Kitty stool (courtesy of Pluey, of course) he was currently standing on to reach for the kettle.
Pluey's already curled up in her corner of the couch, sipping on her chocolate contentedly and looking a few minutes away from dozing off. The two of them both looked up when Jongler entered the room
"Oh, hey Jon, we've got hot cocoa. I know it's probably not the best choice since you're sick, but Pluey insisted since it was 'the best time of the year for hot choco' apparently."
"!!" (''And it is!!'')
They laugh and settle beside Pluey, and the two of them both spend a few minutes watching the snow fall outside their warm apartment. Its still a bit chilly though, so the shadowguy lends a few blankets (out of the several ones they have piled up on their corner) to the other. This then somehow evolves into them building a small pillow fort on the couch, which they then finally settle in, leaving a small spot in the middle for their third member.
Who, speaking of the little bugger, suddenly pops up from behind their heavily ‘fortified’ haven. Pluey squeaks out a note, jostling their now-empty mug on the cushion it’s stationed on. Thankfully, it’s grabbed by a small white hand before it drops, and is replaced with another mug already re-filled with warm heaven in liquid form. Jongler’s handed one too, in their own blue and red cowboy themed cup. Battat doesn’t immediately settle into the cushions though, and he shuffles awkwardly. He’s hiding something behind his back, which is quickly revealed to be two plain boxes, with small envelopes stuck to the sides of them.
"Eh- Uhm, w-well, since y'know, you were sick and it's kinda sad to see you have to be stuck here with us, so... I dunno, I just thought it'd be a better time than never to.. give you your gifts, I guess."
"M'not stuck with youse guys.... Honestly, I's don't think there's anyones else I'd be more willing to spend Christmas Eve with."
"..Really?"
"... Plue, do me a favor will youse?"
"( ˶°ᴗ°)??"
"Could ya smack this idiot for me? I'd do it myself, but m'kinda stuck in these blankets"
"ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)/ !!"
"Ow! Hey, what was that for?!"
There came a melodic giggle from Pluey, who simply gave another light smack to the die's face before leaning back into her spot in the cushions.
"Okay, okay, whatever! Jus- Just open your gifts already, you dolts!"
"!!!"
Pluey raised up a singular finger, letting out a note that said "wait a minute for me!", then rushing into their shared bedroom.
They came out a minute and a half later, holding up two prettily-wrapped boxes, each one with a green or blue ribbon atop to signify who's owner it was.
"Ah.. I left my presents in the room.. I's can go and get it now!"
"Oh hell no. Lie back down Jon, I'll go get it."
"It's okay Batts, I-"
"!!" (''I'll get it!!'')
"Hey, I'll do it! You're swaddled in blankets right now, and I'd be faster!"
">:[ !!" ('no translation needed. angry face')
It takes a solid five minutes of them arguing over who was more willingly to leave the comfort of the blanket fort to retrieve the gifts before Jongler just gets up themself. They are then immediately smothered back down with pillows by the cat-like shadowguy, who signals to Battat to gather the gifts while she kept the zapper in place.
"Oh, uh, wait, where'd you put it?"
"In the closet, it's covered by my zapper uniform.."
And so the die leaves, still half-covered by a blanket.
Pluey, however, takes the opportunity to have some fun.
When met with no resistance, Pluey's slightly-chapped lips brushed against the taller's face, and she looked to gauge the other's reaction, seemingly testing the waters. There was no apparent discomfort on the other's face, but a slight flush was slowly seeping into their cheeks, eye looking away in visible embarrassment. Cute.
With no warning other than the slight purr they had let out, she nipped at the sensitive skin of their neck, drawing a slight gasp and a shiver. Which was followed by quiet snickers, then giggles, and then full-on laughter. They quiet back down when the door opens,
"Oh, so you guys have decided to makeout without me. Which is great and all, but like, I've got my hands full right now and it'd be nice if someone could help me out with these."
Pluey giggles before helping the other haul the rather regular-sized (for darkners who aren't usually less than 4 and a half feet tall, at least) presents to the pile of blankets that surrounded their now red-tinted zapper.
The three of them settle back in to their cushioned seats, staring at the small hoard of boxes at their feet. Pluey’s head rests on the zapper’s shoulders, while the shortest sits up in the middle with his back to their chest.
"Uh.. so.. Do you guys wanna open it?"
"I dunno, 'm kinda tired. But we can open them tomorrow, since it's already pretty late."
The clock on the wall confirms this, the glow in the dark hands (shaped like a certain CRT's antennae) pointing to the similarly painted 11.
"Huh, didn't realise it was that late.. Yeah, we should probably get some rest first."
"♪~"
A sleepy purr was the only sign of agreement from the shadowguy.
"You sure you don't wanna move to the bed? It's pretty..' A yawn cuts the sentence in two, '.. It's pretty cramped here, huh?"
"It's comfy though, and beside's; we's all tucked in and cozy already."
"... True, I guess."
Battat's breathing against their chest is a soft rythm that lulls their already half-lidded eye close. Pluey's weight on their shoulder was a grounding comfort too, and her cool palms, intertwining with both of their partners, made a soothing contrast to their own fever-heated hands.
”Mmmmmm…. Also, Jongler, if we get sick tomorrow ‘cuz of this… mgh.. Actually I don’t really care.. We can sleep in for a few days anyway.”
There came no response from the other, and Battat curiously peeked over to the side to see the zapper lightly dozing off, their closed eye peeking out what face he could see resting on their curled up knees. Pluey had slowly changed positions too, laying down with their head on the taller's lap (some locks of their shadowy hair also falling on Battat’s leg) rather than their shoulder. The die’s expression softens from it’s tired (but feigned) glare.
"Hmph. It's about time you two got some rest, dolts."
A sleepy note was the only response he got; a single hum that somehow managed to perfectly articulate the others thoughts.
"~!" [''You hypocrite.'']
The snow drifts quietly outside the window, and the mugs, now empty of chocolate, are forgotten on the floor. The lights dim of their own accord, and the three darkners are left to quietly slumber in their isolated little blanket-fort.
As Jongler drifts off fully into the gentle waves of sleep, they can't help but think that they are very truly grateful for the knowledge that their two loving partners are reliable too.