Thank you so much!! Here's some Jake for you! Enjoy!
4k Celebration Drabbles
Brother's Best Friend
You hobble over to the receptionist to get a clipboard with an intake form, wincing every time you put weight on the ankle you twisted missing a step when you tried to join your friends at the firepit in the backyard. To your great excitement, your brother’s best friend (and the guy you’ve been crushing on for the better part of your life), had been the only one in the group sober enough to drive you to the hospital. Unfortunately, Jake Seresin also spent the entire ride over reprimanding you for not turning on the light before coming down the stairs.
You take a seat in the waiting room just as he enters the building after parking his car.
“It’ll be a few hours,” you tell him. “You could just pick me up in the morning.”
Jake gives you an amused look. “And leave you here alone in your inebriated state?”
You grimace. “I’m not inebriated. Anymore.”
He hooks an eyebrow as he lowers himself into the seat beside you.
“Maybe your tedious lecture sobered me up,” you grumble.
Jake chuckles. “Sorry, I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”
You shrug, leaning away from him slightly because his arm brushes against yours when he rests his back into the seat. His shoulders are so wide that it’s impossible to sit beside him without making contact. You lean forward to start filling out your form.
Several moments later, Jake taps on the clipboard in your hands. “Didn’t you take ibuprofen for the pain?”
You glance up at him slowly, pulling the clipboard protectively into your chest. “So?”
“They need to know what you’re on.”
“What I’m on?” you say with a laugh. “It’s not like it’s meth, Jake.”
“Write it just in case,” he says. “And how much alcohol have you had?”
You roll your eyes and shift in your seat so that your back is turned toward him. “Let me concentrate.”
But Jake is already half standing to look over your shoulder. “Migraines, right?” he mutters, pointing at the list of existing conditions.
“Jake, do you mind?” you say. “This is private information.”
But Jake ignores your request entirely and starts tapping on the allergy section that you’ve left blank. “You’re allergic to cats,” he says. “Give me that!” He yanks the clipboard out of your hands.
“Jake!” you exclaim. “They don’t care if I’m allergic to cats. This is a hospital. They want to know if I’m allergic to any medications.”
“Shh,” Jake shushes you. “Let me concentrate.”
