Schmoop Bingo - Blackout
Title: Nobody Like You
Author: Redsirenfiction
Fandom: CWRPS (J2)
Schmoop: Blackout
Prompt: Nurse back to health
Medium: Fic
Rating: PG-13.
Warnings: Will rot your teeth.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. This is all a mirage.
Summary: This whole maid business is getting old. |SOUNDTRACK|
Word Count: 1495
“Babe! Can you get me a glass of water!”
Jared closes his eyes. Counts to ten. Tells himself that in just a few more days this will all be a bad dream. Tells himself that Jensen is not going to turn into this guy when they're married and Supernatural is over.
“Babe? Water?”
For a guy who's got Pneumonia, he calls out requests like a fucking pro. Jared sighs and counts to ten again. Looks down at his hands; One's holding the waste basket, full of used tissues balled up to conceal all the phlegm Jensen's been hacking up. The other is multitasking, holding both the mini vacuum and the bathroom bucket which houses all the cleaning supplies. Tucked into the pocket of his jeans are all the meds Jensen's been taking over the last two and a half weeks; The antibiotic, the lozenge box, the Tylenol bottle.
Overall, he looks like a middle-aged woman with saddlebags, the kind they're used to seeing at the local watering hole. The kind that always try to hit on one, or both, of them. Jared's not seeing red, not at all.
“BABE! SICK MAN OVER HERE. NEEDS WATER AND MEDICINE OR HE. WILL. DIE!”
He is not going to yell or get mad. He is not going to throw everything down and thrash around on the floor while crying for his mama. He is not going to rip Jensen's head off and stuff it into the trash can. Nope. He's not. He twitches, fists clenched around the items he's holding.
“JARED, COME ON!”
Jared snaps.
“Here is your water. Here is your medicine. Here is the latest issue of GQ, spine uncracked because no one has touched it yet. Here is the remote; If it goes into the wrong input between you playing Guitar Hero and watching Varsity Blues, press the little yellow 'help' button and it'll magically fix itself. Here is a pen and paper and the phone in case your agent calls. Here are the tissues and the clean bag to put them in. Here are your glasses. Here is a banana to tide you over until dinner, or shove up your ass, your choice. If you need me, I'll be upstairs cleaning our bathroom and our bedroom so that you'll have a clean place to puke and sleep in tonight. Any questions?”
Jared's tone is so calm that even Harley and Sadie squeak out of the room, knowing full well that by the tone of their master's voice that he's going to blow his top any second now. For his part, Jensen can only look up, mouth slightly open and eyes widened enough to show just how surprised he is. He tries for some sort of reply twice, but all that comes out are two soft puffs of air that reek of antibiotic and whatever Jensen ate for a snack two hours ago.
“Doc said I can't do any manual labor...” Is what he finally comes out with and it is so the wrong thing to say to Jared.
“I believe his exact words were hard manual labor, also known as doing things like lifting weights, throwing yourself across a set, or hauling groceries. Last I checked your fucking legs didn't have Pneumonia.” Jared doesn't give Jensen a chance at a rebuttal and stalks off to go finish what he's been trying to get done all day.
After a dinner cooked from scratch-because Jensen sure as hell wasn't about to eat take-out and then puke it all back up for Jared to clean-more cleaning and some errand-running, Jared returns home only to find Jensen looking up at him with puppy dog eyes to rival his own.
“What?” He asks, not an inch of warmth in his voice. He's still holding the bag from Shoppers and the mail in his hands.
“Can you get me a-”
Jared actually growls as he leaves the living room, ignoring anything else Jensen has to say.
He puts the mail into the neat little filer Jensen had bought for their office just after moving in-out of the two, Jensen is the organizer of the bunch-and then pads to the linen closet for a clean towel. Jared needs a shower like a stripper needs a pole, and though he can hear Jensen calling out pathetically from downstairs, Jared knows him well enough to know that he's merely asking for something trivial, not calling out because he's about to die, so he continues to ignore his boyfriend as he strips off the sweat, scum, and food-caked clothes he's been wearing since getting up this morning.
The heat feels good against his sore muscles, but even the massage setting on the shower head isn't enough to get him fully relaxed. Jared knows damn well what's missing, but he refuses to admit it to himself because what's missing is currently downstairs, whining and whimpering like a dog asking for scraps. He usually gets back rubs in the shower, especially if he's had a rough day, but now there are no strong hands kneading his muscles, no soft kisses pressed to those little spots that get him instantly aroused. No words of love spoken into the shell of his ear as his hair is being lovingly shampooed. Jared loves having Jensen shampoo his hair.
With a groan of frustration, he cuts the water and grabs the towel, reminding himself that thinking about it is only gonna make it worse. Jensen's sick and isn't about to do the little things he usually does for Jared; Things which Jared of course reciprocates by doing all the little things Jensen likes.
Exhaustion washes over him in a sudden onslaught and Jared feels a little hazy, eyes half-closed as he slips on a pair of plaid pyjama pants and faceplants into his pillow, not even bothering to go hang the towel up. He's out cold in a matter of seconds, despite the fact that the overhead light is still on and that there's no music coming from his iPhone on the nightstand.
Jared's not sure how long he's been asleep for when he feels a soft hand smooth up his spine, followed closely by a pair of cool, wet lips pressing just behind his ear in a tender kiss. He gives a groan akin to one of the many creatures their characters kill on the show and turns his face towards the source of the comforting sensations.
“I'm sorry for being such a diva.” Jensen whispers once he can see Jared's half-lidded eyes, his own face sad and contrite as he slips under their sheets and attaches himself to Jared's side, face pressed squarely onto still-damp skin.
The apology catches Jared off guard and he turns slowly to face his sick boyfriend, a question in his eyes.
“I'm sorry I snapped at you. You don't deserve that.” Jared finds himself replying, one hand automatically coming out to finger-comb Jensen's still-wet hair. He smells fresh and when his fingertips brush down to Jensen's damp neck, Jared knows his boyfriend is fresh out of the shower.
“I do. I was being an asshole and acting like I was completely immobile when I should've just been moving around to help out my healing.” Jared gives a little smile and merely grunts in answer; His eyes are getting heavy again and all he wants, all he needs at that very moment, is sleep.
Jensen seems to sense this because in a brief moment of mental clarity, he's tucking himself around Jared and framing his boyfriend's face with both hands, his voice soft as he smooths out the lines of weariness on Jared's expression.
“You still love me?”
“Yes. Just barely, but yes. If you ask for one more thing though, I will cut you up into little pieces and feed you to the racoons.” Jared mumbles, more asleep than awake, but still smiling as though someone's holding up the corners of his mouth.
It's a shared thought when they both suddenly find themselves kissing slowly, arms wrapped around the others body as their lips meet in slow, lazy patterns.
“Gonna get so sick...” Jensen warns against Jared's mouth, holding him close as sleep threatens to turn Jared into something closer to a mannequin than an actual boyfriend.
“Good. Then at least I'll have an excuse to put you in a little apron and call you Consuela.” Jensen laughs and it's the best thing Jared's heard all week. He can't be mad at the guy when he's all warm and cuddled up close like this. There's just no way.
“Love you.” Jared whispers, his eyes closing for good this time as his body goes slack in his boyfriend's arms, exhaustion forcing his body to sleep.
“Love you too. Don't forget, you've gotta mow the lawn tomorrow.”
“If you weren't sick, I swear to god, I'd suplex your ass.”
Author: Redsirenfiction
Fandom: CWRPS (J2)
Schmoop: Blackout
Prompt: Nurse back to health
Medium: Fic
Rating: PG-13.
Warnings: Will rot your teeth.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. This is all a mirage.
Summary: This whole maid business is getting old. |SOUNDTRACK|
Word Count: 1495
“Babe! Can you get me a glass of water!”
Jared closes his eyes. Counts to ten. Tells himself that in just a few more days this will all be a bad dream. Tells himself that Jensen is not going to turn into this guy when they're married and Supernatural is over.
“Babe? Water?”
For a guy who's got Pneumonia, he calls out requests like a fucking pro. Jared sighs and counts to ten again. Looks down at his hands; One's holding the waste basket, full of used tissues balled up to conceal all the phlegm Jensen's been hacking up. The other is multitasking, holding both the mini vacuum and the bathroom bucket which houses all the cleaning supplies. Tucked into the pocket of his jeans are all the meds Jensen's been taking over the last two and a half weeks; The antibiotic, the lozenge box, the Tylenol bottle.
Overall, he looks like a middle-aged woman with saddlebags, the kind they're used to seeing at the local watering hole. The kind that always try to hit on one, or both, of them. Jared's not seeing red, not at all.
“BABE! SICK MAN OVER HERE. NEEDS WATER AND MEDICINE OR HE. WILL. DIE!”
He is not going to yell or get mad. He is not going to throw everything down and thrash around on the floor while crying for his mama. He is not going to rip Jensen's head off and stuff it into the trash can. Nope. He's not. He twitches, fists clenched around the items he's holding.
“JARED, COME ON!”
Jared snaps.
“Here is your water. Here is your medicine. Here is the latest issue of GQ, spine uncracked because no one has touched it yet. Here is the remote; If it goes into the wrong input between you playing Guitar Hero and watching Varsity Blues, press the little yellow 'help' button and it'll magically fix itself. Here is a pen and paper and the phone in case your agent calls. Here are the tissues and the clean bag to put them in. Here are your glasses. Here is a banana to tide you over until dinner, or shove up your ass, your choice. If you need me, I'll be upstairs cleaning our bathroom and our bedroom so that you'll have a clean place to puke and sleep in tonight. Any questions?”
Jared's tone is so calm that even Harley and Sadie squeak out of the room, knowing full well that by the tone of their master's voice that he's going to blow his top any second now. For his part, Jensen can only look up, mouth slightly open and eyes widened enough to show just how surprised he is. He tries for some sort of reply twice, but all that comes out are two soft puffs of air that reek of antibiotic and whatever Jensen ate for a snack two hours ago.
“Doc said I can't do any manual labor...” Is what he finally comes out with and it is so the wrong thing to say to Jared.
“I believe his exact words were hard manual labor, also known as doing things like lifting weights, throwing yourself across a set, or hauling groceries. Last I checked your fucking legs didn't have Pneumonia.” Jared doesn't give Jensen a chance at a rebuttal and stalks off to go finish what he's been trying to get done all day.
After a dinner cooked from scratch-because Jensen sure as hell wasn't about to eat take-out and then puke it all back up for Jared to clean-more cleaning and some errand-running, Jared returns home only to find Jensen looking up at him with puppy dog eyes to rival his own.
“What?” He asks, not an inch of warmth in his voice. He's still holding the bag from Shoppers and the mail in his hands.
“Can you get me a-”
Jared actually growls as he leaves the living room, ignoring anything else Jensen has to say.
He puts the mail into the neat little filer Jensen had bought for their office just after moving in-out of the two, Jensen is the organizer of the bunch-and then pads to the linen closet for a clean towel. Jared needs a shower like a stripper needs a pole, and though he can hear Jensen calling out pathetically from downstairs, Jared knows him well enough to know that he's merely asking for something trivial, not calling out because he's about to die, so he continues to ignore his boyfriend as he strips off the sweat, scum, and food-caked clothes he's been wearing since getting up this morning.
The heat feels good against his sore muscles, but even the massage setting on the shower head isn't enough to get him fully relaxed. Jared knows damn well what's missing, but he refuses to admit it to himself because what's missing is currently downstairs, whining and whimpering like a dog asking for scraps. He usually gets back rubs in the shower, especially if he's had a rough day, but now there are no strong hands kneading his muscles, no soft kisses pressed to those little spots that get him instantly aroused. No words of love spoken into the shell of his ear as his hair is being lovingly shampooed. Jared loves having Jensen shampoo his hair.
With a groan of frustration, he cuts the water and grabs the towel, reminding himself that thinking about it is only gonna make it worse. Jensen's sick and isn't about to do the little things he usually does for Jared; Things which Jared of course reciprocates by doing all the little things Jensen likes.
Exhaustion washes over him in a sudden onslaught and Jared feels a little hazy, eyes half-closed as he slips on a pair of plaid pyjama pants and faceplants into his pillow, not even bothering to go hang the towel up. He's out cold in a matter of seconds, despite the fact that the overhead light is still on and that there's no music coming from his iPhone on the nightstand.
Jared's not sure how long he's been asleep for when he feels a soft hand smooth up his spine, followed closely by a pair of cool, wet lips pressing just behind his ear in a tender kiss. He gives a groan akin to one of the many creatures their characters kill on the show and turns his face towards the source of the comforting sensations.
“I'm sorry for being such a diva.” Jensen whispers once he can see Jared's half-lidded eyes, his own face sad and contrite as he slips under their sheets and attaches himself to Jared's side, face pressed squarely onto still-damp skin.
The apology catches Jared off guard and he turns slowly to face his sick boyfriend, a question in his eyes.
“I'm sorry I snapped at you. You don't deserve that.” Jared finds himself replying, one hand automatically coming out to finger-comb Jensen's still-wet hair. He smells fresh and when his fingertips brush down to Jensen's damp neck, Jared knows his boyfriend is fresh out of the shower.
“I do. I was being an asshole and acting like I was completely immobile when I should've just been moving around to help out my healing.” Jared gives a little smile and merely grunts in answer; His eyes are getting heavy again and all he wants, all he needs at that very moment, is sleep.
Jensen seems to sense this because in a brief moment of mental clarity, he's tucking himself around Jared and framing his boyfriend's face with both hands, his voice soft as he smooths out the lines of weariness on Jared's expression.
“You still love me?”
“Yes. Just barely, but yes. If you ask for one more thing though, I will cut you up into little pieces and feed you to the racoons.” Jared mumbles, more asleep than awake, but still smiling as though someone's holding up the corners of his mouth.
It's a shared thought when they both suddenly find themselves kissing slowly, arms wrapped around the others body as their lips meet in slow, lazy patterns.
“Gonna get so sick...” Jensen warns against Jared's mouth, holding him close as sleep threatens to turn Jared into something closer to a mannequin than an actual boyfriend.
“Good. Then at least I'll have an excuse to put you in a little apron and call you Consuela.” Jensen laughs and it's the best thing Jared's heard all week. He can't be mad at the guy when he's all warm and cuddled up close like this. There's just no way.
“Love you.” Jared whispers, his eyes closing for good this time as his body goes slack in his boyfriend's arms, exhaustion forcing his body to sleep.
“Love you too. Don't forget, you've gotta mow the lawn tomorrow.”
“If you weren't sick, I swear to god, I'd suplex your ass.”