beanside | Fic: Upon My Liar's Chair (9/?) 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.

“Okay, maybe you shouldn't have gotten the jumbo grill, Einstein,” Jeff muttered, trying to steer the enormous black monstrosity of a grill into Jensen's backyard through the muddy mess that the rain had made of the path. But hell, if he was inviting over most of the crew, he'd better be able to cook some serious food for them.

A sharp whine caught his attention and he looked over at the hot tub.

The first thing Jeff saw was the blood. Trickling over Jensen's chest, into the water, staining it pink around his body. Next he saw the reason for the blood. Bisou's teeth, digging into Jensen's neck, scruffing him.

Keeping Jen's head out of the water, Jeff realized, as he skidded to a stop next to them. “Fuck. Okay, good girl. Daddy's got him. Drop, baby.”

With a grateful sounding noise, Bisou let go of Jensen dashing for the house. Probably going to dry herself off on his bed, he thought grimly, pressing his fingers to Jensen's throat.

A solid pulse met his touch, and he let out a breath he didn't remember holding.

Jensen muttered softly when he shook him, but it was pretty obvious there was no chance of help forthcoming on getting him out of the water.

He was reaching for his cell phone to call an ambulance when he saw the familiar brown bottles, empty on their side by the edge of the pool. Motherfuck.

The dumbass had been drinking? In a hottub, after taking two pain pills?

Jesus fuck. He could call the paramedics, and then, Jensen would become a Hollywood stereotype. Just another druggie who OD'ed.

Fuck. Okay. He was breathing okay. Pulse was strong.

For now, he'd watch. But damn, he needed to get him out of the pool. And that, Jeff thought, was gonna suck.

He quickly took out his cell phone and shoes, tossing them into the soft grass a couple feet away. Then, sighing, he slid into the hot water.

Any other time, he'd enjoy this. Hottub, Jensen. It was a fantasy come true.

He slid Jensen over into the lift and triggered it, moving quickly to hold him on the narrow seat as it raised him out of the water.

Then, came the transfer into the wheelchair. His back muscles were gonna remember that one for a while. Jensen, despite having lost a fair amount of weight, was not light by any stretch of the imagination.

By the time he got them both inside, Jensen was shivering.

Okay, he needed to get him warm, and he needed to be able to watch him, so the bedroom was out. The couch it was. First, he needed to get Jen out of the wet clothes.

And really, what had possessed him to wear his sweatpants into the hottub?

Between wrangling Jensen onto the chaise part of his couch, and getting the wet clothes off, Jeff was panting. “This was not the way I expected to ever get you naked,” he muttered.

He ran to the bedroom and grabbed a couple blankets, dragging them back to wrap around Jensen's still body.

Bisou crept down the hall, whining softly, head and tail low. “Hey, baby,” Jeff murmured. “Come here, darlin.”

She slunk over slowly. Probably upset about biting Jensen, Jeff realized.
“Good girl. You're such a good baby!” he said. “You did such a good job. Thank you, Bisou, you did good.”

Her head perked up, and she wagged her tail tentatively.

“Daddy's girl is getting steak tonight,” he assured her..

This time her tail wagged harder, and she jumped up on the couch, leaning her body into Jensen. “Good girl. Keep him warm, baby.”

By the time he got back from changing his pants, Bisou had draped herself on Jensen's lap and was studiously cleaning the water off his face.

Served him right.

Okay, time to get some coffee into the boy. First, make coffee. Jeff headed for the kitchen, and flipped on the automatic coffee maker.

While it was brewing, he grabbed a couple of strips of pre-cooked bacon and fed them to Bisou. His girl deserved it, and a hell of a lot more.

The coffee chimed, and he grabbed a mug, filling it part way with the black brew and a big spoon. Jensen normally liked cream and sugar, but damned if Jeff was feeling that charitable.

Despite his annoyance, he sat it aside to cool for a few minutes. Then, he started trying to wake sleeping beauty.

Bisou stared at him wide-eyed as he shook Jensen gently, tapping his cheek with a fingertip. “S'okay, baby. Daddy just needs to wake uncle Jensen up,” he explained.

Still eyeing him, she jumped down, and headed into the bedroom. Couldn't blame the girl. This was gonna suck.

The first slap was gentle. Not much more than a love-tap. When Jensen didn't stir, the second was harder, a sharp crack of skin.

Jeff held his breath as he did it, waiting to see if Jensen would wake. To his relief, the boy stirred, making a little pissy noise.

“Wake the fuck up Jensen,” he barked.

Jensen's eyes fluttered open a little, his face creased into a frown. “Wha?”

“Thank god,” Jeff breathed.

“'msleepin,” Jensen slurred. “Leemealone.” His eyes closed again as he tried to turn away from Jeff to curl on his side. It was hampered by his legs and the fact that Jeff was holding his shoulders.

“Oh, hell no. Wake up,” he growled. “Now.”

After a moment, Jensen opened his eye again. “Mmmurph,” he muttered.

“I don't care. Keep 'em open anyway.”

“Jeeeff,” Jensen whined.

“Here,” Jeff muttered, shoving a spoonful of coffee in Jensen's mouth. “Drink this.”

Jensen sputtered a little, but the coffee went down. At first, he squirmed, trying to turn his head away, but after Jeff grabbed his chin and forced his mouth open, he stopped fighting.

By the time they finished the first cup of coffee, Jensen was keeping his eyes mostly open. By the time Jeff shoved a second cup down his throat, he was starting to get pissy.

“Jeff, what the hell-”

“Shut up,” Jeff growled. “Just shut up.”

Jensen blinked at him, startled, and Jeff almost felt bad.

Almost.

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