In Sickness and In Health

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Disclaimers: None! This is a sick-fic. 

Warnings: Female Reader. Gorgeous is delirious and leers a little bit at Jake. 

A/N: You all can forgive me for this fic, right? It's sweet and hilarious and I desperately needed a little bit of comfort and cuddles with Jake when I wrote it. I would apologize for one scene in this, but it's hilarious, so I'm not going to!

There's a sour-smelling desert in your mouth, and papers are stuck on your face when you wake up

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There's a sour-smelling desert in your mouth, and papers are stuck on your face when you wake up. At first, you feel disoriented, your mind swimming as you sit up again. There's a dull ache in the base of your spine, and goosebumps are covering your arms. You're not sure why you woke up. Your laptop is closed in front of you, and all of your papers are carefully put away. Everything looks like it should. But you're not sure why you woke up. Your brain feels like it's barely working as you blink blearily, and then you see that someone is standing in front of your desk. Your eyes must be crossing because you can't clearly see who they are. Mostly, they're a khaki-colored, tall, broad blob. You startle when they get closer to you, squinting up at their face as the bright light sears into your eyeballs. Their hand cups your cheek, and your eyes flutter closed. Your eyes snap open when you feel something get pulled away from your forehead, smacking your lips as you try to remember what you were thinking about before this person touched your face.

"What're you doing here?" You slur, trying and failing to stand up as the blob moves towards you. "You're not supposed to be here." They catch you under your armpits, easily bearing your mostly dead weight, and they're so warm that you cuddle into them for a few more minutes. "How'd you get inside my house?" You ask all of the questions plaintively. Your voice is weak and croaky, but you need to know even though speaking makes your throat ache. You can hear the rumble of their voice in their chest as they respond. You press your aching head against the broad expanse of their chest, a delightfully muscular, masculine chest until the throbbing in your skull subsides a little.

"C'mon, darling." Your entire center of gravity tilts as this stranger picks you up and walks you carefully up the stairs. Your body is limp as you rock with each of his footsteps, and when you look up, you can make out a patrician nose and bright green eyes. His hair is golden and looks incredibly soft as it curls over his forehead. You raise your hand clumsily, suddenly filled with an urge to touch this beautiful stranger's soft-looking hair. It feels like silk under your fingers, and the soft look on his handsome face makes something warm light up in your chest.

"Let's get you into bed, sweetheart." You flop over where he sets you down, and oh. Oh, that feels nice. The sheets are perfectly cool against your feverish skin, and everything smells like sunshine, fresh laundry, and something citrusy and bright. The pillow is delightfully soft under your heavy head, and you could fall asleep right here. In fact, you are nearly asleep when the stranger comes back and, oddly enough, seems intent on stripping you out of your clothes.

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