My first attempt at a third-person pov. So probably sucks like the rest of my stories haha.
All characters are 18+
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"Achoo, Achoo, Achoo!"
"What the fuck was that? It's so early?" The girl, who Jaxson forgot her name from last night, whines as she wakes up to the sound of sneezing.
"That's my roommate, Ezreal. He get's "sick" a lot. Don't mind him."
"Achoo, Achoooooo!"
"No, no, that's it. I can not be here and risk getting sick. I have to go." The girl hastily gets off of Jaxson's bed and puts back all her clothes on.
Jaxson sit's up dismayed by her actions, "Hey, ummm, you, aaaa, wait, wait!" Just as Jaxson thought he remembered the first letter of the girl's name, she was right out of his bedroom door and out of his apartment building.
"Fuck me, she was hot too." Jaxson thought to himself.
"Achoo, khh, khh, chooo!" The coughing and sneezing continue from the other room.
"Sound's like he's getting worse this morning. I should check up on him." Jaxson attempts to get his athletic 6' 1" frame off his single-size bed and check up on his friend and roommate, Ezreal. He feels the sticky remains of last night's sweaty fuck he had with... whatever her name was. And the lingering headache from all the mixed drinks he had did not help in the attempt either.
"khhhhh, chooooo!"
Jaxson rolls his dark eyes at the sound of Ezreal, more than likely playing up his sickness in an attempt to get that girl out of the apartment. A trick Ezreal has played maybe once, twice, eight times during their second year living together in college.
"Don't die yet, Ez. I will be right there." Jaxson puts on some black boxer briefs and walks across the apartment to Ezreal's bedroom door. He quickly takes in the morning view of the downtown area from the sliding door leading out the balcony. The apartment was a lucky find as they won an actual lottery for the place. Well, Ezreal won the lottery and was gracious enough to allow Jaxson to tag along. This is a rare instance of two buds living together without any randoms disturbing the peace. Maybe a little less peaceful due to Ezreal's persistent coughing and sneezing. Jaxson believes Ezreal is allergic to women he hooks up which causes onset symptoms that just so happen to disappear when the door slams shut in the morning.
Jaxson reaches Ezreal's bedroom door, he opens it, leans his stout body against the door frame, and crosses his arms with a smirk on his face. "You know she's gone, Ez. No more need for the theatrics."
"Chooooo. I know, dummy. I couldn't take her, chooooo, moaning anymore. I need my, khhh chooo, beauty sleep this morning." Ezreal coughs and sneezes as he's laying in his bed, sunk inside his three blankets and obnoxious queen-size bed.
Jaxson analyzes Ezreal's state. Although Ezreal is paler than most boys, Jaxson realizes there's something unusual with him. His face has sick written all over it with his red nose and cheeks and watery eyes. Jaxson fixes his stance to one of worry and says, "I think we should take you to the emergency room. You don't look well."
"I'm, achooo, fine. It's just a cold." Ezreal replies with a stuffed nose. Jaxson walks over to the side of the bed and puts his hand on Ezreals forehead. Ezreal's expression turns into a guilty one because he knows that he's burning up.
"Seriously we need to get you to a doctor. I'm going to carry your scrawny ass to urgent care if I have to."
"I guess I won't turn down being in your arms then," Ezreal says with a cheeky smile while his coughing becomes more coarse.
Jaxson picks up Ezreal like a sack of rice and pulls him over his shoulder. Jaxson walks at a quick pace as Ezreal enjoys the ride.
For Ezreal, he's living, as he believes, every gay boy's dream. A big muscular guy saving them in their time of need. A crush Ezreal has been keeping secret from his roommate and best friend in college. Which was created the first night they met at a recruitment party for one of the fraternities. Ever since that night, Ezreal has been keeping his feelings tight to his chest. And just enjoy moments like these where the boy he longs for takes care of him in his time of need.
Well, that was before Jaxson shoved him into his Honda civic and drove off like a GTA vehicle during a five-star pursuit.
"Am I going to die of sickness or a car crash today, huh?" Ezreal asks worriedly as his hand clutches the armrest as Jaxson weaves through traffic like a madman.
"Neither, almost there. Just a few blocks." For Jaxson, the quintessential straight college boy who has the fortune of bagging any walking vagina in sight, Ezreal was the friend he held closest to heart. Like Ezreal, that close bond was formed the night of that frat party. Unlike Ezreal, he did not have that "crush" feeling that Ezreal had. Or so he thought. It was a lingering feeling that almost haunted him since the day he met Ezreal. Because how could he have feelings for a boy? He was straight. But it was always with Ezreal when those feelings came up, no one else. However, he learned that day, or maybe the day after, that Ezreal would always be in his life. It's one thing to bag any girl for a night, it's another to meet a friend for life. So, right now he's doing everything in his power to keep his friend alive.
"We're here. Get out of the car and let's go." Jaxson says as he brakes the car to the point Ezreals head almost hits the dashboard.
To Ezreal's surprise, he didn't resurrect last night's dinner all over the car. But the headache and dizziness were annoying him right now. "Umm, sir, savior, whatever, I can't walk right now."
"So lazy. Come on, up you go." Jaxson lifted Ezreal from his seat and put him on his shoulders again.
"Thank you, Superman."
"Whatever Ez, come on, let's get you better."
Jaxson, in his frantic state to get his friend better, somehow ended up at the university hospital and not urgent care. So when Jaxson came running in with a small boy on his back, the nurses rushed to action.
"He's in a bad state, we need to get him to a room and run some tests. His weight is very low and his skin color looks abnormal. Sir, please have a seat in the waiting area while we take care of your boyfriend."
The nurses and doctors rush off with Ezreal before he could correct two things. One, Ezreal has always been underweight. He's just a scrawny, short nineteen-year-old. He does not eat a lot and his metabolism is the envy of every forty-year-old man. And two, Ezreal is not his boyfriend. But before he could get a word out, Ezreal was in the sectioned-off area and Jaxson was left waiting.
Time went by, thirty minutes, an hour, two hours.
"How is my friend doing? His name is Ezreal, Ezreal Brooks."
"Sir, I told you, the doctor will update you when he has a chance. Please sit down. You are worrying everyone else." This was the common exchange between Jaxson and the receptionist every thirty minutes or so. By the second hour, Jaxson finally took his seat and waited.
And waited. And waited. What he did not expect was the rush of emotions of began to feel just sitting there in the all too small, uncomfortable waiting chair. He thought about his life. How he has not talked to his parents since he left for college. It is hard talking to two parents who are seemingly, perpetually, high. College was a new start for him. And from the very start, Ezreal was always present. The thought almost made him go up to the receptionist again if it was not for the death glare she gave him once she saw his ass lose contact with the chair. And, finally, how all the constant hookups he had, always seemed meaningless. As if he was trying to find something with those women. But he never got anything from it.
