Real Person Fic - CW: Rattling Your Locks [Part 3/5]

[cherie_morte]

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PART THREE

Jared looks up from his breakfast when he hears someone enter the room and smiles at the man standing at the end of the table. "Morning, Misha."

"Morning," Misha returns. "How ya feeling?"

"Good," Jared says. "Really good."

Genevieve is standing a bit behind her husband, watching Jared with a perplexed face.

"What?" he asks.

"You kinda sounded like you meant it that time," she says.

Jared laughs and shrugs. "I had a good night."

"No further details will be required," says Misha, holding a hand up to silence Jared.

Jared rolls his eyes. "Can I help you two?"

"We're here to ask if you need anything new for your room. Furniture or whatever. There's a bathroom the next door over, so you should look in there and see if it's okay, too."

"My what?"

"Your new room," Misha repeats. "Mr. Ackles said he told you last night."

Jared shakes his head. He'd thought that was just the alcohol and sex talking. He'd thought that was a one-night upgrade. "Really? Jensen's really letting me-"

"Oh, so it's Jensen now?" Misha asks, watching Jared with the same puzzling expression his wife had been wearing when they first arrived. "I see it was a busy night."

"Works for me," Genevieve mutters. "That Mr. Ackles shit was a mouthful."

"I…the room is fine," Jared says. "I don't know what else it would need."

"A bookshelf might be good," Genevieve suggests.

"I don't own any books," says Jared.

"You won't have to make as much of a trip to borrow them," she replies with a shrug. "Anyway, it won't be a problem. I can contact Jim about it later today if you want."

"Jim?" Jared asks.

Genevieve nods, rubbing her belly absentmindedly. "Jim Beaver is the carpenter we use. Most of the furniture in this house that isn't old as shit is his work."

"He'll really build one just for me?"

"Honey, he'll build anything Jensen pays him to."

Jared hesitates before asking the next question, but all his other requests have been well-received and he doesn’t see why this one shouldn't be. "Can I help him?"

Misha and Genevieve laugh. Misha says, "He's a little crusty, but the old man can still do his job."

"Oh," Jared replies, looking down at the blank surface of the table. "Sorry."

Genevieve takes a seat next to him. "I'm sure if you want to help he'll appreciate it," she says. "You just don't have to."

Jared's always liked building things. He'd been well on his way to carpentry training before he went through puberty and got his first knot and everything got fucked up. He still hasn’t stopped wishing things had gone differently. Jared thinks he would have liked a life of good, simple work to do with his body, work with a solid, useful result that wouldn’t leave him feeling dirty afterward. But that's a long time past, and now all Jared can hope for is this one chance to maybe learn a thing or two.

"I'll talk to Jensen about it," Misha says. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Anyway, just let me know before noon if you think of anything else."

He leaves, and Genevieve begins to stand, but Jared takes her wrist and tries to get her to stay. She sits back down. "Something else I can help you with, Jared?"

"I want to know about him," he says.

"About Misha? Look, I'm married to the guy. I promise you, there is not a goddamn thing worth noting-"

"About Jensen."

"Ah," she says, clucking her tongue. After a long pause, she asks, "What do you want to know?"

"He's not really…" Jared shifts in his seat. "I mean he seems so cold. But he's not really like that at all, is he?"

Genevieve doesn’t answer, and Jared thinks he finally overstepped his bounds, but she sighs and shakes her head, a slight frown on her pretty mouth. "You do ask the hard questions, huh?"

"I think I saw what he's really like last night. But, I don't know. Even then, it was like he was trying not to…" Jared shrugs. "I don't know how to explain it. He just doesn't make any sense to me. My masters-I can always figure them out. I have to. You understand that, don't you?"

She nods. "Yeah, I remember."

"He scares me," Jared says. "And not when he's trying to, either. I just want to understand. Know what to do."

"I don't know half the time which one is really him." She waves a hand in the air. "He wasn't always like that. When I first got here-I swear, you'd never have met a sweeter kid in your life. He was open and happy. Misha and I still see that side of him sometimes. Maybe you did, too. But he's been this way so long I don't even think he knows which is real anymore."

"Did it happen when his father died? When he had to take over the company?"

She glances briefly at the floor, then up at the ceiling. Decidedly not at Jared. "No, it's not about the company. It's done wonders for the company, but it happened before then."

Jared nods slowly. "What was it?"

"I don't know. He's never told me, and I had no right to ask. Frankly, I don't want to know." She crosses her arms over her chest. "Maybe one day he'll tell you. He's taking to you faster than I've seen him take to anyone since we were kids. I don't like it, but I guess that's not my place either."

"Why don't you like it?"

"Jensen's my friend," she says. "I don't want to see him get hurt."

Jared nearly laughs at that. "I can't hurt him. I'm the slave, remember?"

"Yeah, but you're also-" She lets out a shaky laugh. "You were a lot smarter when you first got here," she says. "I wouldn't ask these kinds of questions if I were in your shoes."

"You're not, though. He freed you." Jared raises his eyes to hers. "No one's freeing me. I have to know what I'm dealing with."

She looks away again. "He'll free you," she says. "Sooner than later, I hope."

No, he won't, but Jared doesn't say that out loud. Her faith in Jensen is nice, no need to crush it.

"I wouldn't believe it either, Jared, but he really is against slavery. He's given more money to abolitionist groups than anyone else on the continent."

"He gave a whole lot of money to a slave trader, too."

She nods. "Fair enough. I'm not proud of him for this, but I think he has his reasons. I don't know what else to tell you. He won't hurt you, and he will free you eventually. That's the best you're going to get."

She makes it clear that she'll answer no more questions after that, standing and crossing the room. She pauses in the doorway, speaking as if the entire conversation they just had never happened. "Remember to tell Misha if you think of anything else for the room."



The sigh Jensen lets out as he sinks onto the bed is so dramatic that Jared would laugh at his master's antics if he hadn't been forewarned. Genevieve had called Jared half an hour ago and told him to be in Jensen's room by the time his master got home. She also warned him to be ready for one hell of a bad mood. Apparently, work didn't go so great today.

"Long day?" Jared asks when Jensen doesn't say anything or even move from where his ass landed on the mattress. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to be the first to talk; it's always a risk whether he'll say the wrong thing or not, and Jensen in a bad mood will probably be no easier to navigate than regular old Jensen.

"Bah," Jensen replies.

Jared decides to take that as a 'yes.' He rises to his knees and crawls across the mattress, putting one hand on each of Jensen's shoulders and working his fingers hard into the tense muscles on Jensen's back. Jensen groans as soon as Jared starts massaging him and his head falls back, exposing a long line of throat. Jared ducks his face to kiss it.

"God that feels amazing," Jensen says, his body slumping back into Jared. "You were a very good investment."

Jared falters for a moment. Always nice to remember he's just something shiny Jensen bought himself. "Part of my training," he says, keeping his voice light. "We all get it. I took you for a wise enough businessman to know all the features that came with your purchase."

Jensen hmms and shifts under Jared's touches. "But now I get to discover all these surprises along the way." Jared pushes hard on a particularly tight spot, and Jensen lets out a sound that is downright pornographic. "Mmm, if I'd known you could do this, I never would have let you out of bed."

Jared laughs and starts to work his hands down. "Well, you know, all you have to do is ask. You paid good money for that service."

He must hear some of what Jared's trying to disguise in his voice, because he turns, catching one of Jared's wrists. "Let me see those hands," Jensen says, bringing the palms up to his lips and pressing long kisses into each. "I didn’t mean it like that, Jared. You must know I didn’t."

"I'm sorry you had a rough day," Jared replies, deciding against staying on topic. "Do you want to talk about it?"

The conversation shift doesn't go unnoticed. "Not anymore than you do, apparently." Jensen huffs out a short, amused breath. "I hate my job, Jared. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. I just want to relax a little."

Jared hadn't known that, and he wouldn't have guessed it, either. Sure, his master is stressed most days when he gets home, but Jared figured that was true for everyone. Jensen's warmed up to him in the last month, but he's still not exactly an open book. All Jared knows about the man is that he's good at whatever it is he does-scary good-and the small glimpses of excitement he saw when Jensen was talking to him about movies. The work he does has made him rich. Powerful. So goddamn free he can do anything he wants and probably get away with it. Add that all together and what's not to like about it?

But it's not exactly his place to point any of that out. Jared takes his hands off Jensen's back and moves to sit next to him on the edge of the bed. "Well, how can I help you with that?"

Jensen watches him quietly for a moment or two, then leans in, cupping one side of Jared's face and kissing him slowly. It's not like the other kisses they've shared, it's not like any kiss Jared's ever felt in his life. Jensen's tongue moves into him slowly and goes deep and takes its time. Jared kisses back at a loss, because he doesn't get this kiss, but he thinks it's probably important somehow.

After a while, Jensen pushes Jared back onto the bed, and Jared goes obediently where he's led. Jensen keeps kissing as they move, as he settles on top of him, all he does is kiss Jared. It feels like a year before he breaks away, and then his fingers come up and stroke Jared's cheek gently.

Jared turns his face away so Jensen doesn't see him yawn, and when he looks back, his master has pulled back some.

"What's wrong?" Jensen's fingers move down slowly, first to Jared's neck, then mercifully away onto the pillow where Jared doesn't feel them and doesn't have to wonder why his skin burns pleasantly everywhere those soft touches go.

"Nothing," he lies, stifling another yawn. His master is already in a bad mood, and Jared doesn't want to upset him further. It's not like being honest will get him anything, anyway.

Jensen frowns. "Tell me."

"I'm just-" This yawn catches Jared off guard, and he can't hide it. "Tired," he finishes.

"Not in the mood?" Jensen asks.

Jared's not allowed that kind of luxury, but since his master already said the words for him, he closes his mouth and nods. "But I can-"

Jensen laughs, but he doesn't sound very amused. He looks away from Jared and murmurs so quietly Jared hardly hears his question. "Are you ever in the mood for me?"

"Yes," Jared says, wishing it weren't the truth. "Just not tonight."

Jensen kisses him again, briefly this time, and pulls back with an impossibly warm smile. "That's the lie I wanted to hear," he says, and Jared can tell that he's trying to sound playful, but he's usually better at pretending than this. "Go get some rest."

Jared stares up at him dumbfounded until Jensen raises an eyebrow, and Jared realizes how stupid he must look, lying there with his mouth open, disobeying an order to…go do exactly what he feels like doing.

"Er," he says, sitting up. "Really? I mean, thank you."

"I've told you not to say that to me," Jensen replies heatedly, but his voice softens immediately. "Go on. Get out of here before I change my mind."



Jared wakes up the next day feeling like a small army is marching inside his head, so he turns over and goes back to sleep. God only knows how many hours pass before he feels something cold and wet on his forehead and blinks his eyes open hazily.

"Hey," he hears, but his vision is swimming too much to see who it is and his head is clogged up so bad he almost can't hear. Jared feels like he's going to die, only that would be such a mercy that he probably won't.

He tries to say something but even he can hear that whatever comes out is not words.

The person attached to the wet rag on his forehead laughs, and Jared's gut clenches. He'd recognize that laugh anywhere.

"You look terrible," his master says, removing the wet cloth.

"Feel worse." Jared sits up and manages to force his eyes to focus. His master is sitting by his bed and outside the window it’s dark. Oh god, he is so fucked.

"You slept through your summons," Jensen tells him, confirming his fears.

Jared tries to seize out of bed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm up now. I'm sorry."

Jensen laughs as he eases Jared back down. "Calm down there, buddy. No offense, but I don't exactly wanna get all that close to you right now anyway. You're oozing."

"Gross," Jared says, sniffling and wiping his hand over his nose and confirming that he is, in fact, oozing. "So gross."

"Yeah, pretty gross," Jensen agrees. "Figured you must be sick when you missed your call. I thought you looked a little out of it last night."

Jared pushes weakly at Jensen's thigh where he's sitting on Jared's bed. He's been beaten for this kind of thing before. "You have to go," he says. "I'm not allowed to get you sick."

"Pretty sure you're not allowed to tell me when to go, either," Jensen says, not unkindly but firmly enough. "Hey, calm down, Jared. Calm down."

"If I infect you, I'll-"

"Have to take care of my ass instead of the other way around." Jensen smiles, looking sorry. "Man, you're really out of it. I'll have Sam bring you up some soup. She's been making the good stuff. Apparently the whole staff is getting whatever this is."

Jared shakes his head. "It's not fair. I hardly even see the staff."

"Well, you must have seen someone."

Jared groans and lets himself drop back onto his pillow. "It must have been the sneezing maid," he says. "Teaches me for helping her carry linens."

"See what being a gentleman gets you?" Jensen jokes. He soothes a hand over Jared's clammy forehead, and Jared shivers at the cool touch of his skin. Jensen frowns. "I'll call Dr. Smith up to see you in a bit."

"Just leave me here to die."

Jensen snorts. "Misha tells me whatever this is hits hard and fast, but that it doesn't stick around more than a few days."

"I'll be dead in a few days," Jared says, putting one hand over his forehead dramatically. "I'll be a dead, dead slave."

"I should put you in a movie," Jensen says. "You're a bigger diva than half my leading ladies."

"And I bet I look better in a corset," Jared replies, stopping halfway through to cough.

Jensen grins. It's not bad to look at, but Jared feels so miserable right now he wants to claw it right off Jensen's face. "Yeah, maybe when you're not hacking up a lung."

Jared just makes a whiny noise and turns over, his back toward Jensen. He can hear Jensen laughing, and it kind of scares him how much that distracts him from whatever biological warfare is going on inside his nasal passages. Jensen puts a hand on his shoulder and rolls him onto his back, then leans in to press a quick kiss to Jared's sweaty brow. "Rest up," he whispers. "I'll wake you when the soup is ready or the doctor arrives."

Jared wants to ask what the hell he's sticking around for, but then Jensen takes his hand and Jared is so not in the state to be able to talk himself into believing he doesn't like it. So he does as he's told, turning his face toward Jensen and closing his eyes and falling asleep almost immediately.



"All better?"

The door closes with a click behind Jensen and Jared looks up from bed, smiling at his master as he begins to undress.

"All better," Jared confirms. "Probably better than you right now. How was work?"

"That's cold, Jared," Jensen says, crawling onto the bed and giving Jared a quick kiss. "Next time, I'll let you drown in your own mucus."

Jared laughs. "Thanks for not letting me do that, by the way."

Jensen tries to lift himself away from Jared. "How many times do I have to-?"

"Stop it," Jared says, kissing him. "Shut up."

Jensen's eyes widen, but Jared's plan worked. He's too surprised to go on talking, and Jared doesn't want to hear what he has to say anyway. He's spent the better part of the last week in bed feeling like the undead in those movies Jensen let him watch while he was at work the week before, and instead of forgetting Jared existed while he couldn’t be of use or getting upset at Jared for being sick, Jensen spent at least an hour every day after work sitting by Jared's side. Taking care of him. Cheering him up. Talking to him just because Jared was so bored he wanted to die. No one's ever given Jared that kind of attention before, let alone when he couldn't give them anything in return.

It merits a measly thank you.

"Jensen, let me say it, okay? Not because you're my master and not because I feel like I have to. Because I mean it, and I want to."

Jensen looks away from him, but he nods his head once, quick and sharp. Jared cups Jensen's face with his hands and leans in, kissing him. "Thank you, Jensen."

"Don't mention it," he replies.

Jared sighs. That's probably the best he's going to get, so he lets it drop. "Bet I looked really strapping curled up in bed like that all week. Like a big, strong, manly Alpha."

Jensen laughs without any humor. "If most Alphas were regularly as pathetic as you were for the last few days, the world would be a better place."

Jared frowns. "Ouch," he says. "Don't you think that's just a little bit harsh?"

"No," Jensen answers in a tone he hasn't used toward Jared since he first got here. He gives Jared a pitying look and his eyes soften, even if the rest of him stays on guard. "I don't think you realize you're different from the rest of them."

"Of who?" Jared asks. "Alphas? I'm not really. Just in a shittier situation."

"No, you are. You're different. If you'd been born rich, you still wouldn't have ever-" Jensen trails off, and Jared knows he's thinking about the things Jared told him the last time they tried having a real conversation. About Mistress Miner. Jared suppresses a full-body shiver, and Jensen lies down next to him, resting his face against Jared's chest and distracting Jared's thoughts with a very welcome subject change. "How many Omegas have you knotted?"

"Enough," Jared replies, thinking maybe Jensen is still not sure if Jared's competent enough for him. "And I had months of training specifically for it. I know what to do."

"I don't doubt that," Jensen assures him. "I'm just making conversation. You don't have to answer. I get it."

"Three," Jared tells him. Doesn't know why he tells him. God knows the last time Jensen started asking questions like this it went down the wrong road.

"Only?" Jensen says, clearly shocked. "Really?"

Jared shrugs. "Omegas are as rare as Alphas."

"And neither rare enough," Jensen mutters. "But Betas don't need Alpha pleasure slaves."

No one needs Alpha pleasure slaves. Jared manages not to say that to the guy with the Alpha pleasure slave, but it's a near thing.

"Were they all masters?"

"No," Jared says. "One was. Another was his daughter."

"Two Omegas in two generations?" Jensen laughs. "I thought my genes were bad."

Jared nods. "It was pretty unusual."

"Did he know you were knotting his daughter?"

He laughs. "Hell no, I think he would have killed me. He caught me kissing his wife and sold me. Ironic thing about it is his wife only ever asked me to kiss her. I think she was just lonely because he didn't give her a lick of attention. But Katie-Katie was trouble."

"Did you like it?"

Jared thinks about that for a few seconds. "She was a beautiful girl. A spoiled little brat with an insatiable appetite, but one who smelled like an Omega, so. I've definitely had to knot worse."

Jensen hums to himself. "But you didn't like her?"

"Nah, not really. Master Cassidy wasn't so bad, either, so I felt bad going behind his back. He didn't hit me much, not even when he found me with his wife. But Katie threatened to tell them all kinds of stuff if I didn't give her what she wanted, and I'm not an idiot."

"What about the other one? You said there were three."

Jensen watches Jared closely, listening intently. Jared's not sure why this is interesting to him, but it beats the hell out of talking about his scars and the sweethearts who gave them to him, so he doesn't let the conversation lull enough for Jensen to remember to go back to that.

"Sandy," Jared says, smiling softly. "She was my first love. My only, I guess."

"Was she your master, too?"

"Nah, Sandy was just a slave like me. We grew up together, working in the same house, and as soon as we smelled each other we started…" Jared's heart feels a little lighter just thinking of her, of how easy it has been back then. "It was stupid puppy love. We were like 16 or something. But she was beautiful and sweet and funny. It was the only time I ever got to choose."

"Did you, though? If it was just the hormones?"

"It wasn't," Jared says. "I wanted her when she wasn't around. When I couldn't smell her. In full control of my senses, I still wanted her."

Sometimes he wants Jensen when he can't smell him, but that's not something he wants to look at under a microscope.

Jensen's frowning despite how happy the memory is for Jared. "Do you still love her?"

"I guess a part of me always will. You know, in that way you feel about your first love no matter how long it's been or how it ended."

Jensen doesn't look like he has the slightest clue what Jared's talking about, so Jared shrugs nonchalantly. "But I haven't seen her in ages. Haven't even thought about her, really. It's in the past."

"What happened to her? Maybe I can buy her, get her back for you."

Jared looks over at his master, trying to decide if that was a genuine offer. It's a weird one to extend to your pleasure slave, but oddly sweet all the same. "I think she's happy. When Master Stuart realized what we were, he tried us both out. Decided he liked Omegas more than Alphas, so he sold me for training, but he kept Sandy. Last I heard they have kids together and she even lives in the main house with him. Who knows, maybe they love each other. I choose to think she's happy."

Jensen stares up at him with his big green eyes, almost hopeful as he asks, "Do you really believe that can happen? Do you think a slave could ever love someone who treats them like that?"

Jared doesn't. Jared didn't used to. Why's Jensen even asking him such a stupid question?

"No," he replies. "Not really."

Jensen's face doesn't quite fall, but Jared sees his eyes darken a little. The mask slips back on in the blink of an eye, and it makes Jared's chest ache to have done that, and-oh god, he does think that could happen. He thinks, maybe in another world, he could have loved Jensen. He's never had a less welcome thought in his life, and Jared has wanted to hurt masters in the past so badly his own thoughts scared him.

"It was a stupid question," Jensen says in his most detached tone.

"How about you?" he says, trying to steer the conversation away from himself. From all the dangerous traps telling Jensen too much of the truth could create.

"I don't fuck Omegas," Jensen says with a sneer.

Jared rolls his eyes, glad that Jensen is lying in a way that won't allow him to see. He can't even begin to guess what in this man's honeysweet life left him so goddamn self-loathing. "I meant Alphas. Was Danneel your last?"

"Yeah," Jensen replies.

"Why the hell did you let her get away?"

Jensen laughs. "We weren't really compatible. I mean, it was great to have an Alpha. She held me over for a while, but she wasn't what I really wanted, and I don't think I was what she wanted at all."

"I still say you made a big mistake there," Jared teases. "How does it even work with a girl? Just out of curiosity."

Jensen licks his lips. "Let's just say it was very tight. Still got tied, just not the way you're used to."

"Ah," Jared says. "Have you even been with a male Alpha?"

Why don't you want my knot?

Jensen's eyes flash and he turns over, his back to Jared. "I don't have to reciprocate the pillow talk."

Jared didn’t have to tell the truth, either. Jensen wouldn't have known if he'd lied. But he did. Even when it was hard and horrible. Because Jensen asked. But there's no point expecting Jensen to give more than he wants to. He's right, he doesn’t have to do anything for Jared, and they're both perfectly aware of that.

Jared faces Jensen, placing a hand on his shoulder and soothing it down his back. It's like navigating a goddamn obstacle course trying to have a conversation between the two of them. He never knows what not to say, and Jensen is just as hopeless.

"Look, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. You're the master, remember? I'm the slave. I'm just trying to make conversation."

Reminding Jensen of that when he gets in one of his cagey moods usually helps, but Jensen just makes a sour noise. Jared wraps an arm around him, nuzzling his face into Jensen's neck, and when Jensen tries shooing him, he digs his fingers into Jensen's sides. "C'mon, don't be a brat."

Jensen yelps, jumping, and turns to face Jared, laughter threatening to spill from his lips. "Dude...are you…serious?"

Jared just keeps right on tickling, until finally Jensen reaches up and kisses him. Jared stops harassing him to return the kiss.

"Would you stop doing shit like that when I'm trying to be pissed at you?"

"Nope, no sir. I've got a job, and I'm gonna do it."

Jensen's smile seems forced. "Right, your job. Well, you're pretty good at your job." His eyes scan over Jared's face for a few seconds and his smile relaxes. "You're not too hard to look at, either. Did you know that?"

"I think I'd be dead if I was," Jared says.

It's true-there's really only two ways for things to go when a slave grows up Alpha. If you're marketable as a pleasure slave, that's what they do to you, and if you're not, they don't let you grow up to be defiant and strong. Still, Jared shouldn't have said it just when he'd finally salvaged their conversation.

Jensen's frowning again. Of course he is, and now Jared knows he has no one to blame but himself. But he doesn't go cold on Jared or bring that mask back out. He brushes his thumb on Jared's cheek and sounds sorry when he says, "I can't say the right thing to you. I don't think I'm ever going to know how."

"You try," Jared replies. "You probably don't realize how much that means to someone like me, but believe me. It counts for a lot."

Jensen shakes his head and rests his face against Jared's chest again. Jared puts a hand on the back of his head, stroking the hair there. "Hey," he says, racking his mind yet again for a conversation that won't go horribly awry. "It's your birthday next week."

"Yeah," Jensen agrees not moving from his spot on Jared's chest. "You have a birthday. Not too long from now, a couple of months, I think. Did you know?"

Jared laughs, surprised by the information. "No, I-how do you know?"

"It's on your deed." He looks up to catch Jared's eyes. "Then again, there's no knowing if it's accurate. But we can celebrate it anyway. If you want."

"I wouldn't know how."

Jensen snorts. "It's not hard. You kind of just do what you want all day because nobody can give you shit on your birthday."

Jared definitely does not know how to do what he wants all day, but he welcomes any chance to try it out. "Okay, I guess. If you're serious. If you remember. I think I'd like that."

He can feel Jensen grinning against him. "They put down a last name, too, but it's so goddamn ridiculous, I'm pretty sure the guy recording your birth just jotted down the first few sounds that came to his head."

"Padalecki," Jared says. "It was my father's name. My real father. Master Stuart told me so. He bothered to ask before selling him off."

"There I go again," Jensen says, sighing. "I should just keep my mouth shut, huh?"

"Nah," Jared says. "It's a silly name, but I like it. It's all I know about him."

"They sold your parents right away, huh?"

He nods. "Didn't want us to form any attachments."

"Yeah," Jensen says, his voice both soft and angry at once. "I hear that's what they usually do. Sons of bitches."

"In my head, they at least kept mom and dad together. And they got free and are happy and have kids they get to keep."

"I could find them for you," Jensen says. "I bet it wouldn't even be that hard. People keep good records."

Jared chews the inside of his cheek and thinks it over for a few seconds. "Honestly, at this point, I don't want to know. What are the chances the truth is anywhere near as forgiving as the version in my head?"

Jensen apparently respects Jared enough not to patronize him by insisting on the contrary. Instead he sits up and kisses Jared briefly. "I knew my parents," he says easily. "I never thought I'd envy a slave, but I'd unknow them in an instant if I could."

Jared's not sure if Jensen is lying to make him feel better, but he draws him closer anyway, holding him tight for a few seconds before letting go. He wants Jensen to just be happy already, instead of inexplicably miserable. And more than that, he wants to stop wanting Jensen to be happy. He shouldn't care at all, but Jensen cares about him, and Jared doesn't know how to ignore that.

"I'm going to bed," Jared says. "You have to get up early, and here I am keeping you up."

"Oh," Jensen says. He's not quite wearing the mask again, but Jared knows he's more disappointed than he's letting show. "Okay. Goodnight, Jay."

Jay. That's new. "'Night, Jen," Jared replies, just to try it out.

Jensen smiles and hides his face in his pillow.



Jared is half-dozing on top of Jensen, their mid-afternoon fuck having left them both lazy and satiated. It's Jensen's birthday, so they have nowhere to be and nothing to do. Or at least that's what Jared had thought until the knock at the door of Jensen's room disturbs him, bringing him out of his nap.

"What," Jensen cries out. "Leave me alone."

The door opens anyway, and in comes Genevieve, all dressed up, a bright smile on her face. "Rise and shine, birthday boy," she says with evil glee in her eyes. "I brought your present."

He sits up, which means Jared kind of has to since Jensen had been lying under him. "Okay, okay, time to work," Jensen says, stretching out under the covers. "Bring it in and I'll deal with it."

Genevieve turns and signals to someone waiting outside the door. Jared isn't sure what to expect as far as the kind of presents servants get for their insanely rich employers on their birthdays, but he certainly wasn't expecting this.

Misha comes in carrying the biggest basketful of laundry Jared has ever seen in his life, and before he knows what's going on, Misha has approached the bed and dumped all of the clothes on Jensen's-and by default Jared's-head.

Jensen is laughing when Jared manages to dig him out, his eyes sparkling. All of his barriers are down in a way Jared has never seen.

"Can I have them all fired?" he asks.

Jensen shakes his head, sitting up with a sock dangling off his head. "Thank you guys," he says to them, climbing out of bed. "You're the best."

"Ain't we just?" Genevieve asks. "Remember that on Christmas."

She turns to leave and Misha scampers out after her.

Jensen gets up from the bed, pulling a pair of boxers out of the pile and stepping into them.

Jared watches him, still feeling groggy and lazy. "Am I allowed to ask, or is this one of those rich weirdo things I'm supposed to take for granted?"

Jensen laughs and begins to…fold things. "They let me fold laundry on my birthday."

"Your servants let you do your laundry?" Jared asks, turning onto his back. "Hey, Jensen, have you ever heard of Tom Sawyer?"

A bunched up roll of socks hits Jared in the face then, and he can't help laughing.

"First off, if you're just going to use the book privileges to tease me, I'm taking my library back. Secondly, I always do my own laundry, thank you very much." He smiles as he concludes, "On my birthday, they let me do all the laundry."

"And that's your present?"

"Mmmhmm," Jensen says contentedly, folding a pair of pants that must belong to a gardener from the amount of grass and dirt stains on them.

Jared sits up on one side watching him, as confused as ever, but with something else welling up under the confusion. Jensen is so rich he could literally afford to throw his clothes away and just buy new ones, and yet he's standing here folding his staff's clothing, humming lightly under his breath as he does so.

It's so absurd and so human at the same time, and Jared suddenly realizes with small stab of horror that he could watch Jensen do this forever.

It's not so scary on its own-Jared has liked masters before, despite himself. Master Williams had been old and lonely and had bought Jared more for company than for sex. He'd taught Jared how to play chess and never once hit him. When he died, Jared had mourned for himself primarily, for the loss of his one comfortable home, but he had found a surprising sadness for the old man as well. Master Stuart had been stern, but his punishments were never irrational, and he hadn't touched Jared until Jared was old enough. Jared couldn't help liking Master Stuart even when he was being harsh, because he had noticed something about Jared early on, and he'd kept Jared in the classroom with him far more often than he'd needed someone to wait on him, occasionally inventing tasks to make it look like Jared was there to be useful. Teaching a slave could have gotten him in serious trouble, but he'd found a loophole for Jared's sake.

Even so, something about the way this fondness sparks up in Jared's chest right now makes him want to cower under the blankets instead of keep watching the quiet contentment on his master's face.

"What's wrong?" Jensen asks when he looks up. "Are you okay?"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you fold clothes on your birthday?"

Jensen shrugs. "Folding is therapeutic," he says sagely. "Anyway, I'm going to need to be relaxed for tonight."

Jared feels his heart pick up. "What happens tonight?"

A part of him wants nothing more than for this to be the night he finally knots Jensen, but the rest of him is terrified that will only make this worse, make feelings Jared is too afraid to even confess are a possibility wake up inside of him.

Jensen frowns. "Birthday party," he says. "All the usual corporate douchebags."

"Oh man," Jared says dramatically, letting himself fall back into the bed. "You didn't even warn me."

"I wouldn't subject you to this," Jensen says.

Jared opens one eye and looks over at him. "What, seriously? I don't have to go?"

Jensen shakes his head, his lips quirking. "You're off the hook, you lucky bastard," he says. He pauses then, lets his hands and the shirt held between them drop. His face is almost shy. "But I would…I would like it if you were here when I got back. That's not an order. But I would like it."

Jared nods, looking to the pile of clothes and forcing a smile. "Should I be helping with this?"

"No, no," Jensen says, leaning forward onto the bed to give Jared a quick kiss. "You just lie there and look gorgeous."

Jared doesn't think before he returns the kiss. He doesn't put pressure on Jensen's lips because Jensen is his master and he has to. He just kisses back. It's been years-Jared was a teenager the last time he just kissed someone back.

He picks a book out of the library after Jensen leaves and spends the night in bed with it, trying to ignore the sounds of music and laughter and chitchat from downstairs. At some point he must drift off, because at two in the morning, Jensen stumbles in, turning on the lights, and Jared sits up in shock.

"Shit!" Jensen says when he realizes he woke Jared up. "I forgot."

Jared sits up and watches him for a few seconds before he realizes what's going on and gets up to help Jensen. He laughs and puts an arm around Jensen's shoulders. "Jesus, you're drunk, birthday boy."

Jensen nods, giving Jared a loopy smile. "Can't fucking stand to be around those people sober."

He turns his face then, sniffing at Jared's skin, and makes an 'mmm' sound. "You smell good," he says.

"Yeah," says Jared. "You do too."

Jared leads him to bed and helps him down onto his side of the mattress. Jensen grins. "Had to go to that." He kisses Jared's neck and Jared stays in place, letting his master have his way. "Whole time I was thinking I'd rather be here. Doing this."

"We can have our own little party, huh?" Jared says.

Jensen nods and pulls until Jared climbs into bed next to him.

"What do you want, Jensen?" Jared asks, kissing his jaw. The question has more to do with the fact that it's Jensen's birthday than with the fact that Jensen is his master and can take anything he wants from Jared any day of the year.

Jensen lies quietly under Jared's mouth for so long that Jared thinks, not without some disappointment, that he's passed out. Then he hears a drunken giggle and two hands come up to grip his face tightly. Jensen kisses him back for a few seconds, his breath tasting like scotch, and then he pushes Jared up so that he can look him in the face.

"I want you to want-" He stops, shakes his head, and starts over. "I want whatever you want to want."

Jared raises an eyebrow. "You're a real poet when you're drunk, huh?"

Jensen snorts. "Bite me."

Jared ducks his head, nipping playfully at his master's shoulder. Jensen yelps, and Jared licks at the skin as Jensen's body shakes with laughter, hoping to chase away the pain.

"Wasn't an order," Jensen says, one hand coming up to play with Jared's hair.

Jared looks up. "I still haven't gotten one of those. Had to keep myself busy."

"Yeah, you did." Jensen's fingers drop the hair he'd been fiddling with, and he rests his hand gingerly on the back of Jared's head. "Just tell me you want me. Not just when you smell me. Like with Sandy. Tell me. I know you won't mean it, but make me believe it."

Jared almost laughs at that. Biologically, he has no choice but to want Jensen every time he gets a hint of the Omega scent under that Alpha cologne Jensen wears. Legally, he has no choice but to want Jensen period. And yet, here his master is, drunk on his birthday, sounding doubtful and maybe even a little scared.

"I do want you," he promises. "All the time, Jensen. More than I ever wanted Sandy. More than I ever wanted anyone."

"You shouldn't sound so convincing when you lie to me." Jensen frowns. "Well, I did want a good actor, right? Careful what you wish for, Jensen."

Jared sighs, brushing his fingers through Jensen's hair. He wasn't lying. He wishes he was lying, but he wasn't. Anyway, that doesn't matter. He'll never be able to convince Jensen of that, and it's not a good idea to show his weakness anyway. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

"Whatever you want," Jensen answers, his head rolling loosely on his pillow. "If you want me at all."

Jared sits back, trying to figure out what the hell he is actually trying to ask for. There's no translating that crazy order into English, and Jared's sober, he can't ride the drunken wavelength.

Jensen takes Jared's hand in his and moves it slowly down his body. He presses Jared's palm to the back of his pants. "I'm wet, Jay," he whispers. "So wet. Every fucking time I see you, I swear." He turns his face away. "If that's what you want, you can have it."

God knows Jared does want that. He's been waiting for Jensen to ask for this since he got here. It's about time they just get it over with. But he stops himself as he starts to open Jensen's pants, because Jensen stares up at him with wide, glossy eyes, looking like a scared little boy. "Just don't hurt me," he says softly. "I'm begging you. Don't hurt me."

Jared frowns. He stops trying to touch Jensen and leans down to kiss him instead. Jensen shakes his head against Jared's mouth. "Don't. Don't hurt me. I'll be good."

"Jensen?" Jared says, lifting his lips from Jensen's. "Jensen, I'm not gonna hurt you. I can't, remember?"

"You can," he slurs. "You can, I want you to. But don't."

He huffs out a laugh. "You're not making any sense."

Under him, Jensen is already hard and desperate, thrusting up against Jared. Jared can smell how turned on he is, can taste it when he presses his lips into the sweat on Jensen's neck, and Jensen starts asking for his knot, but Jared can't.

He can't, even though he wants it more than he's ever wanted this, and it's not because he's worried Jensen will wake up tomorrow upset that Jared took this order seriously when he was drunk. He just can't shake the memory of the pleading expression his master had given him earlier. Jared's seen some pretty messed up slaves in his time, but he never thought someone free, someone as wealthy and powerful as Jensen, could ever know that kind of fear.

It wouldn't be right. Not like this.

"Turn over," Jared whispers.

Jensen's eyes flash, excitement and worry, and he positions himself on all fours, waiting for Jared to crawl on top of him. Jared pulls one of Jensen's shoulders up so he's resting on his side instead and wraps his arms around Jensen. He tucks his face into his master's neck, pressing one last kiss against the skin, tortured by the Omega pheromones he can taste even there.

He hasn't ever stayed in Jensen's room overnight before, because Jensen has never asked him to. But he said-well, he said Jared could have anything he wanted, and it feels surprisingly good to have his arms full of Jensen, his mind clouded by the impossibly sweet scent of him. More than anything, more than knotting, Jared just wants to lie here like this a little while longer.

"Go to sleep, birthday boy," Jared tells him gently. "We can worry about the rest of it later, okay?"

Jensen nods absently against his pillow and his body melts from being one tense line to pliant and relaxed against Jared's chest.



Instead of good morning, Jensen greets Jared with a sound that comes out something like, 'arrraghaawak.'

Jared laughs. This is pretty much what he was expecting, so instead of trying to make sense of it, he reaches to the nightstand for the ice pack he went down to the kitchen for when he first woke up.

"Where's it worst?" he asks.

Jensen rubs at his head with one hand, trying to block the sunlight from the window with the other. "Everywhere. Oh god. Kill me."

Jared swats the hand at Jensen's temple away and presses the ice firmly against his forehead. "You'll survive."

"My mouth tastes like a trashcan and feels like a thousand bunnies gave birth inside it."

"Well, you just squashed all hopes you had for a good morning kiss," Jared says. He takes one of Jensen's hands, positioning it so it'll hold the ice up and helps his master sit up a little. "I've got some painkillers and a glass of water for you. You can sit here and mourn the last few drinks while I go get your breakfast."

"Oh god, why'd you say breakfast?" Jensen covers his mouth with his other hand. "I'm gonna barf."

"You can do that while I'm downstairs, too. I won't tell a soul." He picks up the pills. "Mouth open."

Jensen pouts for a few seconds, but finally does as he's told, sticking his tongue out and letting Jared feed him the pill and the water.

"There you go," Jared says, smiling as Jensen swallows. "Not so bad, right? You'll be fine soon."

"That's easy for you to say," Jensen mutters.

Jared laughs and gets up to leave. When he returns with the food, Jensen is sprawled face down on his mattress. Horizontally.

"I see you've made some progress."

"I got out of bed to throw up," Jensen's words are muffled as he speaks into the mattress, "then I tried brushing my teeth. Then I threw up again. And one more time. And then I brushed my teeth. Again."

"All that in the time it took me to go downstairs?" Jared asks, raising an eyebrow.

Jensen lifts his head until his chin is resting against the mattress. Just enough to give Jared a hearty glare. "You're enjoying this." He rolls onto his back. "You're a sick bastard."

"Quit whining, you overgrown baby," Jared says. "This sick bastard is going to feed you breakfast in bed."

"Naked?" Jensen asks.

"If you think that would be best."

Jensen makes a contemplative face, then shakes his head dejectedly. "I'm too miserable to even enjoy it properly."

Jared smirks. "In that case, sit up and make room for me."

Jensen does as he's told, scooting to the side. Jared lays the tray he brought from the kitchen at the foot of the bed and raises a forkful of pancakes to his master's lips. Jensen recoils from the smell of the food.

"Eat." Jared gives Jensen his sternest look. "Come on, I promise it'll help. I've had a lot of old, spoiled drunks for masters. I know how to deal with you."

Jensen chews and eyes Jared. "There was an insult in there somewhere."

Jared feels a laugh bubble up out of him and surprises himself by leaning forward, kissing Jensen's syrupy lips. He surprised Jensen, too, if the look on his master's face is anything to go by. Jared feels a hot flush in his cheeks and turns his head away, ashamed and embarrassed.

Jensen reaches out and puts his hand on Jared's thigh. Jared stares at that in order to keep his eyes off the green ones he knows are watching him. "You didn't knot me last night."

Jared shrugs it off. "You remember that, huh? Doing better than I thought."

"Don't." Jensen pulls his hand off Jared and, when Jared looks up, his master is scrubbing both of his palms over his face. "Be serious for a moment here, okay?"

Jared nods, surprised by the sudden turn.

"I told you you could knot me. You wanted to. Why didn't you?"

"You didn't really seem to want it," he answers.

Jensen's response is sharp and angry-angrier than Jared's ever heard him. It's the first time Jensen has scared him in months. "Tell the truth."

"That is the truth," Jared replies, looking up at him defiantly. "Why would I lie about that?"

"Because you're an-" Jensen frowns. "You weren't supposed to be like this."

Jared can see genuine disappointment and sadness in his master's eyes, and he wonders if maybe he should have worried about how Jensen would respond to him refusing that order yesterday after all. "Like what?"

"A person," Jensen says quietly. "Let alone a good one."

"What was I supposed to be then?" Jared asks, keeping his own anger out of his tone. He knew better than to let a master get at him like this, but here he is anyway. Jensen is hurting his feelings. Pathetic.

"An Alpha."

"Alphas are people, just like Omegas."

Jensen stares down at his blanket, away from Jared. He looks ashamed. Good, he deserves to. "Omegas are pretty sorry excuses for people," he says. "And you-Alphas were all supposed to be the same."

Jared sits quietly a few seconds longer. He doesn't get it, isn't going to get it. He might as well just do what he can and get back to his room as quickly as possible. So he sighs, then raises the fork again. "Have a little more to eat, okay? It'll be good for you."

"Stop it," Jensen says, pushing his hand away. "Stop taking care of me. Stop being good to me, I don't deserve it." He takes the fork out of Jared's hand and his voice softens. "Take the rest of the day off, Jared. Do whatever you want."

Jared should be glad for it, but Jensen's making that face again, the one that had frozen him in his tracks yesterday, and he just wants to reach out and stroke his fingers on Jensen's cheek.

But when he tries, Jensen pulls back.

"Just go," he says, in a tone that reminds Jared he doesn't have the right to disobey.



"I wonder what would happen if you stopped letting me win."

Jared looks up from the board as Jensen checkmates him for the third time in a row. "I don't know what you're on about now."

"Oh, come on. This is worthless. Chess is no fun when I can tell you're throwing it. At least pretend better. I know you can do a better job than this."

Jared laughs. "Maybe I just really suck at chess."

"Maybe I should fuck that smirk right off your gigantic head."

"Maybe you should."

Jensen makes a grumpy noise. He fidgets, as he has been doing since he found Jared in the study and asked him to play. Finally he slams his hand down on the board.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" It explodes out of him like he's been waiting months to say this.

Jared raises an eyebrow. "I have to say, if I realized you'd be this unpleasant over winning chess, I wouldn't have agreed to play."

"I said some stupid shit the other day. It's why I've been avoiding you, but I was hungover and…and…just. Confused. You have to accept my apology, so accept it."

"I accept?"

Jensen stares at Jared quietly, as if he was expecting a different answer. "Well. Fine then," he finally says.

"Excellent." Jared smiles. "Another game?"

He might be enjoying watching Jensen get annoyed by how unruffled he is just a little too much. "What? No!" He waves his hands in the air. "Dammit, Jared, I quit."

"Does that mean I won?"

"Why aren’t you upset with me?" Jensen's apparently upset enough for him. "And if you say you're not allowed to be, so help me god, I'll-"

Jared can't be mad at Jensen, true, but it's not a slave thing this time. He felt more sorry for the man than offended by his words, and that's caused a really confusing few days for him. "I don't want to talk about it, okay? Do you see me avoiding the subject? It's because I don't fucking wanna talk about it." Jared gives Jensen his best pleading expression. "Please. I know you can make me. But don't. I just don't want to. It's over. Can we move on?"

Jensen blinks a few times, as if the possibility hadn't even occurred to him. "But you talked about all that other stuff."

"I know," Jared says. "Just. Not this, okay? You're forgiven. Isn't that what matters?"

Humbled, Jensen nods.

"Good," Jared says. "Now let's play another game of chess."

Jared goes ahead and wins this time. Jensen pretends to be very upset, declaring that he won't play another game with Jared blatantly cheating, and then he hauls Jared up and to his bed. Jared makes Jensen come on his tongue, his sweet juices sending Jared into a frenzy the moment he licks into him. Jared hits his climax with his mouth still pressed to Jensen, humping down on the mattress desperately, and Jensen returns the rim job even though Jared has already come, just to be polite, he says.

"I'd like it if you stayed," Jensen tells him once he pulls away and wipes his mouth off. "Like you did on my birthday. You can stay here if you want."

Jared watches him to see if the offer is genuine. He wants to stay. He knows how good Jensen will feel, his back molded into Jared's chest, his sweet scent unassuming after an orgasm, just a slight hint of warmth and comfort that Jared wants to drown in.

He leaves anyway. Just because his master gave him an order, and Jared thinks he can get away with disobeying it. Jared leaves and Jensen doesn't say a goddamn word to stop him.

ON TO PART FOUR
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