“Aunt Cass, honestly, I’m fine!”
The woman who had been his everything for the past 18 years turned and gave him a glare that made him glad to be in the hospital.
“Fine?” She hissed, eyes narrowing, “Do you know how much blood was in the garage?”
Hiro blinked, shrinking down before shrugging. “I don’t know.”
“Too much,” she snapped, “if the garage looks like a murder scene, I refuse to believe that you’re ‘fine’. No young man, you’re going to get those stitches and then we’re going to go home and you’re going to clean up all that blood from the walls.”
Hiro opened his mouth to protest before thinking better and shutting it with a sigh. He sat back in the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the waiting room and awaited his fate.
They were in the emergency room of the hospital Cass had always taken him to ever since he was a baby: San Fransokyo General. The place was (sadly too) familiar but, all familiarity aside, Hiro still hated coming here.
Of course, no sane person really liked to come to the hospital, but usually their fears varied from the whole blood, death, and sickness thing. Hiro had a different reason for hating the place and it had more to do with the people themselves who frequented the hospital rather than their injuries, sickness, or what have you. There were always people around and Hiro absolutely hated it. He would’ve preferred staying at home with his robots and Mochi who would always be happy to cuddle, hell, even working in the café was tolerable. At least he knew the good majority of the people who came there. Dealing with people would always be stressful for Hiro, but in places where he considered home it was like being stuck in an uncomfortable conversation with an acquaintance—awkward, but manageable; at the hospital however…
He slumped further down into the hard plastic chair and wished as hard as he could for the whole situation to whiz on by. Every time he came here, he always somehow got stuck with the grumpiest doctors who would make less than nice comments about his aunt’s care and the many ‘accidents’ they have on file for him. Hiro absolutely hated it. Maybe he should look into some online classes and try to get a nursing degree or something—it didn’t sound all that interesting to him if he was honest, but if it got him to not step foot in a hospital again he’d be happy to learn.
He was working on getting his phone out of his pants pocket when his name was called.
The smooth voice caught his attention, and, just like that, all thoughts of hospitals being the worst place on Earth was swept out of his mind because—oh God, was that his doctor?
His face was– mmrgh, and wow he had to be the fittest doctor, look at the way those muscles rippled under that white coat. Around him, Hiro could see other patients in waiting blushing when Hot Doctor’s gaze swept over on them and he honestly couldn’t blame them. The doctor was Hot with a burning capital H with broad shoulders that seemed to go on for miles, and a face that sort of made Hiro want to whimper aloud; Hiro had never wanted to offer someone his virgin body as hard as he did right then.
"Is there a Hamada Hiro?" Hot Doctor said again, and wow, he went from smoking hot to adorable puppy with a little eyebrow action, what even.
Wow, Hiro never wanted to just watch someone for a whole day before. He was prepared to just sit back too, watch him look around some more, maybe hear him say his name again, but before he could set his plan into motion a sharp pinch made him jump from his seat with a loud yelp. All eyes swiveled to him and he blushed furiously when he realized that Hot Doctor was part of the group.
"Hamada Hiro?" Hot Doctor asked, a kind smile on his lips.
"Uh y-yeah," he stuttered, "that’s me." He raised a hand and waved, belatedly noticing the disgusted looks people gave him before he realized that the hand he had raised was currently sloppily wrapped in bloody bandages. Riiight, injured, that was still a thing.
He dropped it and clutched the arm to himself as he made his way over, but unlike the other people in the waiting room, Hot Doctor had this look on his face that was a perfect blend between amused and worried. And oh God, please don’t let him be one of those doctors who actually genuinely cared. He was already ridiculously hot and probably disgustingly smart, he couldn’t be genuinely kind either.
“Please be an asshole,” Hiro whispered as he followed the man through the halls.
Hot Doctor turned to look over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, “Did you say something?”
“Nope, no, n-nothing!” He flailed his arm before forcing himself to stop, laughing nervously.
Hot Doctor, instead of calling him a freak of nature or anything in that line, let out a chuckle that had the little hairs on the back of Hiro’s neck rising and his heart stuttering awkwardly in his chest. He mentally groaned because, oh this was so unfair.
“You’ll need stitches,” Hot Doctor said offhandedly when they walked into a room with one of those chairs that reminded him of the ones that could be found in a dentist’s office.
“But how do you know, you haven’t even seen it yet,” Hiro blurted out only to curse his brain afterward.
Hot Doctor didn’t seem to mind that Hiro was practically challenging his diagnosis however and just let out a soft laugh as he pulled on a pair of gloves at the counter. “I saw enough when you were waving it around earlier. A cut like that is too long for a regular Band-Aid, and judging by the blood staining your bandages it seems pretty deep as well—hence the stitches.”
Hiro blinked, unable to find anything to say to that. Damn, he was right though, Hot Doctor knew his stuff.
“Now,” he said, turning around to face Hiro with a bright smile, “can I see it?”
“Didn’t you already?” Hiro retorted before he could stop himself.
The mortification he felt was akin to whiplash, but Hot Doctor’s smile turned into a full-blown laugh and for a moment Hiro could hardly believe the man was even real. Normally, when he talked back, people would lash out even harder, calling him all sorts of names ranging from disrespectful to downright rude. The only person who ever really laughed at his bratty comments was his aunt, and now he was pleasantly surprised to add the man to the list. Hiro didn’t even know what to think about that, as dazed as he was by Hot Doctor’s mere presence.
“Ah, that’s refreshing,” Hot Doctor commented when his laugh died down.
Hiro moved to sit down, unsure if his legs would be able to hold him up if this man kept on smiling like that.
“Arm?” Hot Doctor asked, and Hiro, after a split second of hesitating, placed his bloody bandaged arm into Hot Doctor’s hand.
Hiro watched as the man worked, carefully unwrapping the messily tied cloth covering his wound. When Hiro started feeling the tug of dried blood and flesh, he quickly looked up because, while he could handle gallons of blood splattered across who knows what, open wounds and flesh were just not okay.
“It’s deep but it didn’t reach the bone,” Hot Doctor commented when the bandages were off, “can I ask you how this happened?”
Hiro gulped before covering up the action with a smirk, still looking up at the ceiling. “Not going to demand the answer from me?”
“You’re 18 and technically, I can’t make anyone do anything that they don’t want to do,” Hiro didn’t need to look to hear the smile in the other’s tone, “but I’m curious.”
Hiro couldn’t help his own smile as he quietly started recounting the story of how he had been trying to get rotating saw blades to stay in place with magnetic servos and nothing else. “It obviously didn’t turn out too well,” he admitted, “my aunt had a fit when she found me; she said the garage looked like a murder scene.”
Hot Doctor chuckled as Hiro felt the needle push through his skin, starting the stitch that would hopefully heal him without a scar (lord knows he already had enough of those). “I can bet,” he commented, “magnetic servos have a lot of potential with things that fall apart, but rotating anything with only magnets to hold it sound like a bad idea. I might sound a bit naggy, but next time, please stick to the normal parts. With this wound, any closer to your vein and… well, please just be careful next time. Magnetic servos might look cool in the end, but it won’t matter if you’re dead.”
Hiro opened his mouth because, oh man, Hot Doctor was perfect. It wasn’t cold professionalism in his voice, but actual worry. Hot Doctor actually cared and, oh crap, Hiro was wearing bloodstained clothes and had just told him a story of how much of an idiot he can be. Hot Doctor was perfect and Hiro was screwed and wanted to be screwed and– ugh.
After a minute, he managed to stutter out a flustered “O-Okay,” that probably made him sound even more like a weirdo. His pathetic answer seemed to be adequate though, because Hot Doctor sent him another heart-melting smile and continued working.
Life was so unfair.
Hiro’s arm was stitched up too quickly for his liking.
Before he knew it, he was standing with Aunt Cass and listening halfheartedly as Hot Doctor rattled off things that Hiro should avoid while his stitches were healing.
Before he knew it, he was pouting at home while he cleaned up the blood in the garage, torn between wishing desperately to know Hot Doctor’s real name so that he could stalk him online, and not knowing for the same reason.
(“You know, he did give me his business card–”
"No! I’m trying not to be a creeper right now Aunt Cass, please don’t enable me into doing bad things.”
"So I’ll put it on your Christmas wish list then.")
It took Hiro three days until the realization that Hot Doctor knew what magnetic servos were, hit home.
Hiro, who had been in the middle of testing out his rocket attached, enhanced hover skateboard, took a wrong step and promptly fell off, landing incorrectly on his ankle with the added bonus of knocking his head on the nearest table. He woke up in the hospital to a frowny Hot Doctor who, while frowning, still looked ridiculously attractive.
Hiro had so many things to say and ask, but what came out instead was a garbled, “Magnetic servos.”
Instead of understanding, frowny Hot Doctor stopped frowning but did that confused thing with his eyebrows that made him look like a puppy.
"Unfair," Hiro mumbled before promptly passing out again.