beanside | Fic: Upon My Liar's Chair (8/?) WIP

Title: 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 avid_slacker.
Warning: Character injury, permanent disability.

Between the PT and the OT, Jensen's muscles were pretty much the consistency of wet noodles by the time they left.

His hair hurt, he swore it. Jeff had made him soup, and he was almost too tired to eat it. Almost. But Jeff really was a good cook, so he wasn't quite to the point of turning that down. Besides, he needed something in his mouth with the pain meds.

By the time lunch was over, his shoulders were starting to burn and his back felt like he'd been beaten.

He was so lost in his own little world that he jumped when Jeff touched his shoulder. “What?”

“C'mon, Jenn. You're about to pass out. And your arms are shaking. Time for a rest.” Jeff took the empty bowl away and pointed towards the bedroom. “The therapist left some peppermint oil for sore muscles. You want a me to rub your back and arms?”

Pride warred with exhaustion, and exhaustion won. “Yeah. Please.”

“Okay, Go lay on your back, and I'll start with your chest and shoulders.”

“Kinky,” Jensen muttered. “Trying to get into my pants, Morgan?”

Jeff was quiet for a long second, then laughed. “You lose much more weight, and I won't have to. Those things are barely hanging on your hips as it is.”

“Aw, baby. I'm flattered that you noticed,” Jensen managed, ruthlessly suppressing some of the mental images the thought of Jeff looking at his hips brought to mind. Instead, he quickly wheeled into the bedroom.

He'd gotten pretty good at transferring from chair to bed with the help of the nightstand, if he did say so himself. It was much easier than the reverse. Getting out of the soft bed was never easy.

Jeff came in a moment later, settling himself next to Jensen on the bed. “You did good today.”

Jensen shrugged. “Nothing I didn't already know how to do.”

“I know. But it's good sometimes, to have people.”

“Whatever. Am I getting that rubdown, or are you going to talk me to sleep?” With effort, he kept the edge from his voice, but it wasn't easy.

Jeff shook his head and opened the bottle of oil. “Not gonna work, y'know. This whole bullshit thing you've got going.”

Strong hands slid along his shoulder, coating his skin in the oil, and Jensen wrinkled his nose. “I smell like toothpaste.”

“Deal with it,” Jeff rumbled as he started to rub Jensen's arm.

Jensen abruptly decided that toothpaste was a fine scent. Damn fine, even.

Jeff had awesome hands. Strong, and gentle, with long fingers that pressed into the aching muscles just right. “Shit, you're good at this.”

“I had a girlfriend, after college, when I blew out my knee. She was studying to be a massage therapist, so she taught me a few tricks.” His hand skimmed along Jensen's chest, stroking higher to loosen the tight cords of his neck.

Jensen moaned softly. “If she was here, I'd totally thank her.”

Jeff laughed, the sound rich, thick like he could just wrap himself in it. Good to know the painkillers he'd taken were kicking in, he thought. “Just relax.”

That sounded like excellent advice, Jensen thought, letting the fog of comfort sweep over him.

Jeff kept talking, his deep voice uncoiling something deep in Jensen's stomach that he hadn't known was there.

At some point, Bisou jumped on the bed, resting her head on the pillows next to him. Jensen smiled vaguely at her, resting his hand on her side, letting his fingers slide over the soft fur.

Jeff chuckled softly. “Do you want to roll over so I can get your back?”

It was like a bucket of cold water hitting him in the face. He could roll over, sure, but it wasn't pretty. “Um. No, I think I'm just going to fall asleep,” he said quickly.

“You sure? I could-”

“I'm sure,” Jensen said, voice a little sharp. “Sorry. Yeah. I just...I'm gonna nap. Long morning.”

“Okay, dude.” Jeff shifted off the bed, coming to his feet. “I'm going to hit the store, pick up a couple of things, okay?”

Jensen nodded. “Okay. Bisou and I will take a nap.”

Bisou gave a heavy sigh, laying her head down on the pillow like she had never been allowed to sleep in her life.

“I'm going to kill whoever taught her the word 'nap,'” Jeff muttered, rolling his eyes as Bisou sighed again.

Jensen hid a smile. No way was he telling him that he and Jared had taught her it during the first season. It was a sure way to get Jeff to take a nap, if Bisou would snuggle in with him.

As Jeff left, the smile faded. Fuck. What the hell were they going to do with Supernatural? Every day that went by, people who he called friend were going without work.

All because he was a fucking klutz when it counted. Fuck, he had to talk to Jared, make him see.

“Jen?” Jeff stuck his head back in the door. “You still awake?”

There was something deeply fucked up about jumping out of your skin, and feeling your legs fail to join you. “You're such a fucking two year old. I'm awake, what's up?”

“I meant to ask earlier, but they had some gorgeous ribs on sale at the store, and I was thinking. Would it be cool if I invited Jare and maybe Kim over or something?”

Jensen hid the automatic flinch. He needed to talk to them anyway. Might as well do it in person, when they couldn't ignore the facts of his handicap.

“Yeah. That would be fine. Not tonight, though.”

“I was thinking tomorrow.”

“Good. Yeah. That's okay.” Jensen held still until he heard Jeff's car pull away. Then, he pushed himself up slowly, ignoring Bisou's whine of disapproval. Jesus, his back hurt. It was in a competition with his legs, which were starting to spasm and burn. Fucking therapists. All they ever did was make things worse.

He knew the routine. Now, his legs would jump and ache for hours. By dinner, he would be in agony. Never mind that he could stick a knife in his thigh, and not feel it. Somehow, the pain never seemed to take that into account.

Fuck. Time to get in the hot tub.

As always, the bed to the chair was a challenge. Only the thought of getting outside made it worth while.

Finally, he was in the chair, and headed out into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

A familiar brown bottle met his gaze. Fuck, Jeff had brought up some real Texas beer. Okay. Fuck the water. Couple of beers wouldn't hurt him.

The weather hadn't improved any. It was still gray and drizzly and fucking cold.

He sat the beers down on the concrete before he got out of the chair. No sense in leaving them on the seat where he wouldn't be able to reach.

The transfer was its usual brand of torture, but finally, he was sliding onto the bench of the hot tub and popping open a bottle of Shiner.

Fuck, that was good. There was nothing he missed more in Canada than good old Texas beer.

He downed the first bottle quickly, and leaned back, letting the muscles in his back relax with the warm water. Felt good. The spasms were easing off, he almost felt human.

Jensen wasn't sure when he'd finished the second beer. Just that he reached for it, and it was empty. Oh well. No big deal. He would just rest here, enjoy the cold rain hitting the umbrella that shaded the hot tub.

His head laid back, and he relaxed, arms and eyes heavy. The water was warm, stroking his shoulders and neck, and--

He coughed as some of the water spashed into his mouth, shoving himself up a little. Fucking useless legs. He'd slid forward, almost off the bench.

Ah, that was better. Jensen sighed. He'd just relax for a little while, then get out before Jeff got back.

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