Bad Liar (Miguel O'hara x reader/male oc)

Chapter Eleven: Im Sorry

Miguel stepped out of his room wearing a dark blue tank top and.. boxers?

"Jessica notified me that the medical equipment from the medical ward will be arriving soon. If you need anything more, tell me and I'll pass on your message" He says, tiredly.
"Yeah." I answer, trying to keep my eyes on his upper body.

God, I was really losing my touch as a doctor if I was getting flustered just by seeing another guy in his boxers. Even if he's extremely good looking and the said boxers leave little to nothing to imagination.

Well, I can't really blame myself, I mean, he's spiderman. Who wouldn't find him even the least bit attractive?

I stand up from the couch stiffly. "Do you want to sit down here and let me treat you?" At this, he looks away awkwardly and puts his hand on his mouth. "Mierda. I have most of the medical supplies set up in my bedroom, so you'll have to treat me there."

"Woah... ok." The 'woah' slips out as I try to hide my excitement to be in spider- no - Miguel's room. Alone. As I think more about this, an idiotic smile creeps across my face.

It disappears when Miguel gives me a confused and annoyed look. Well, it was more of a glare.

I follow him into his room, trying not to make my pace too giddy or too disinterested. It is much like the rest of the visible apartment, with white, grey, and black accents with a modern but pathetically boring finish. In the center was a barely used bed, with nightstand on both sides, and on the left side of the room there was (what I assumed was) a closet's door. Filling up the rest of the room were blue and orange holographic screens that showed various information on Miguel's well-being.

He sits down on his bed and sighs. I catch his signal, and start pulling (swiping?) some of the screens towards me.

Miguel O'hara——————————————
Age: 27
Height: 6'9
Race/Ethnicity: Irish/Mexican
Status: Critically injured
——————————————————————

Well, that wasn't very helpful.

I pull another screen towards me, and it tells me random statistics regarding other parts of his body, including his arms, his legs, his head, and even his... dick. I tried, I really did, to not read that last one, but I failed. That was when I found out that it was almost SIX INCHES?

I look down at my own crotch, and feel a little saddened. Soon remembering I had a patient that was probably in a lot of pain right now in front of me, I swore to myself and them yelled at myself internally for being so playless. The next screen I pull towards me gives me an X-ray of Miguel, and I spot two broken ribs. Luckily, I also see that his neck is just bruised.

I finally walk over to him, and gesture for him to take off his tank top. He submits, and seems ready to listen to anything else I need him to do.