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beansideTitle: Upon My Liar's Chair
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: Thankfully, this didn't happen. I don't know them, I don't know what they do in their spare time, but I doubt it's any of this.
A/N: Much love to my wife for doing the quick once over. Sweet Charity fic, for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
avid_slacker.
Warning: Character injury, permanent disability.
Jeff forced his face to stay impassive. Jesus, the boy had a hair trigger. Made him feel a little better about what he'd done. “Mmm,” he repeated. “The polite response when you don't want to spray oatmeal on someone.”
“Oh.” Jensen stirred his oatmeal for a moment. “How'd the meeting with the real estate agent go?”
Jeff swallowed another bite. “Not great. The house she showed me was kind of a shithole. Looked like about a dozen frat boys had been partying there. Glass in the backyard. Not a chance that I'd let my girl live there.”
Jensen winced. “No shit.”
“So, if it's okay, I might be here another day or two,” Jeff said reasonably.
“That's fine.”
“Oh, your physical therapy place called. They're coming for the first home visit, with OT and counseling around ten,” Jeff said. “Sorry, it slipped my mind.” He held his breath, waiting for the explosion. Truth be told, he'd called the rehab place whose number was on the refrigerator. They were so glad that “Jensen” had finally called to schedule an appointment that they'd agreed to come over that morning.
He felt a little bad, but Jensen obviously needed someone to help him. And if he wouldn't let his friends do it, they'd find someone he would.
Jensen gritted his teeth so hard that Jeff was half afraid he'd be spitting out pieces. “That's very nice of them,” he finally said.
“I thought so, too,” Jeff smiled sweetly. “They sound really nice.”
“They really don't have to do that,” Jensen said slowly. “Plus, I think I already have an appointment with the doctor this morning. Let me check.”
He wheeled back to the bedroom and came out with a card. “Here it is.”
Before he could bullshit, Jeff reached over and plucked it out of his hand. “Tomorrow, huh? Well that works out. Need a lift?”
Jensen's smile was about as forced as anything Jeff had ever seen. “Yeah. That would be great.”
“The OT person wants to talk to you about leasing a van or car with hand controls, btw. If you'd be interested.”
Jensen's smile became a little less forced for a moment. “That would be great.”
“Okay, then.”
Jensen glanced down. “Guess I'll go get myself a little more presentable.”
As he wheeled back to the bedroom, Jeff let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Step one, complete. Now he just had to figure out what the hell step two should be.
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: Thankfully, this didn't happen. I don't know them, I don't know what they do in their spare time, but I doubt it's any of this.
A/N: Much love to my wife for doing the quick once over. Sweet Charity fic, for
avid_slacker.Warning: Character injury, permanent disability.
Jeff forced his face to stay impassive. Jesus, the boy had a hair trigger. Made him feel a little better about what he'd done. “Mmm,” he repeated. “The polite response when you don't want to spray oatmeal on someone.”
“Oh.” Jensen stirred his oatmeal for a moment. “How'd the meeting with the real estate agent go?”
Jeff swallowed another bite. “Not great. The house she showed me was kind of a shithole. Looked like about a dozen frat boys had been partying there. Glass in the backyard. Not a chance that I'd let my girl live there.”
Jensen winced. “No shit.”
“So, if it's okay, I might be here another day or two,” Jeff said reasonably.
“That's fine.”
“Oh, your physical therapy place called. They're coming for the first home visit, with OT and counseling around ten,” Jeff said. “Sorry, it slipped my mind.” He held his breath, waiting for the explosion. Truth be told, he'd called the rehab place whose number was on the refrigerator. They were so glad that “Jensen” had finally called to schedule an appointment that they'd agreed to come over that morning.
He felt a little bad, but Jensen obviously needed someone to help him. And if he wouldn't let his friends do it, they'd find someone he would.
Jensen gritted his teeth so hard that Jeff was half afraid he'd be spitting out pieces. “That's very nice of them,” he finally said.
“I thought so, too,” Jeff smiled sweetly. “They sound really nice.”
“They really don't have to do that,” Jensen said slowly. “Plus, I think I already have an appointment with the doctor this morning. Let me check.”
He wheeled back to the bedroom and came out with a card. “Here it is.”
Before he could bullshit, Jeff reached over and plucked it out of his hand. “Tomorrow, huh? Well that works out. Need a lift?”
Jensen's smile was about as forced as anything Jeff had ever seen. “Yeah. That would be great.”
“The OT person wants to talk to you about leasing a van or car with hand controls, btw. If you'd be interested.”
Jensen's smile became a little less forced for a moment. “That would be great.”
“Okay, then.”
Jensen glanced down. “Guess I'll go get myself a little more presentable.”
As he wheeled back to the bedroom, Jeff let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Step one, complete. Now he just had to figure out what the hell step two should be.
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