Author's Note: Written for…

Meet-Cute Marathon. Scenario: I was watching that hot jogger while driving out of the neighbourhood but got distracted and crashed but i just woke up in a hospital room and said hot jogger is at my bedside because apparently they're the one who called the ambulance.

(Writing Club) Disney Challenge. Prompt: Write about a close call

(Writing Club) Count Your Buttons. Prompts: headphones, neck

(Writing Club) Showtime. Prompt: Attention

Insane House Challenge. Prompt: Bandage

Helpful

522 words

Percy hurried to his car, fumbling with the key as he attempted to get it into the ignition. He got it in on the third try, breathing a heavy sigh as the car started right away.

In four years of working for Secretary Fudge, he hadn't once slept in. As he drove out the cul-du-sac, he cursed himself for choosing to do so on the day of his boss' biggest meeting. He was just considering how much time he could shave off his commute if he skipped stopping for tea and a bagel when he spotted the jogger.

Normally Percy was a flawless driver - he had never once received a ticket - but once he saw the man he couldn't seem to take his eyes off him.

The man was shirtless, the sun shining off his sweaty, tanned back. His heartrate increased just watching him run along, mouth moving as he silently sang along to the music playing from his headphones.

Percy tried to refocus his attention on the road, but a sudden movement had him looking back in time to spot the wallet left on the pavement behind the jogger. He honked his horn but the jogger didn't hear.

Rolling down his window, Percy drove closer to the side, shouting. He was so concerned with getting the man's attention that he didn't notice the signpost until it was too late.

:-:

"...I'll let him know, ma'am."

Percy stirred, groaning at the headache and pain in his neck.

"Mr. Weasley?"

He squinted against the bright fluorescent lights to see who was calling him. He detected a Scottish accent but that didn't help to narrow down who was speaking.

"How are you feeling?" Percy's eyes focused on the dark-haired man at his bedside and slid down to his glistening, bare chest.

"Pain," he croaked, averting his eyes. He took in his sterile surroundings and the bandage on his arm. "What happened?"

"You crashed your car. Lucky I was nearby."

"You dropped your wallet, I was trying to get your attention," he admitted, hestitantly glancing into the stranger's brown eyes. They were as breathtaking as the rest of them.

"Well, I think you succeeded," he joked, cracking a smile. "I noticed it when I was calling for the ambulance. I'm Oliver, by the way."

"Percy Weasley."

"I know, I had to go through your wallet. I called your mum. She's on her way."

"You didn't have to do that."

"It's the least I could do - you got hurt because you were trying to help me."

Oliver took his hand, squeezing it gently. Percy felt his cheeks heating up at the touch.

"T-Thank you. Maybe I could buy you a coffee some time to thank you properly?" He was sure his face had to be as red as his hair. He couldn't meet Oliver's eyes as he finished the question, but the brunet's smile only widened.

"That sounds great." Percy's phone still in his hand, Oliver quickly tapped away for a moment before placing it on the nightstand. "You have my number. Give me a call when you're feeling up to it."

Smiling shyly, Percy nodded. "I will."