Happy. (Part 4 in the 'Mine' Verse.)
So I wrote more in the 'Mine' verse... Don't blame me! It's the laws of physics - for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. It therefore follows that for every fluffy schmoopy Wincest I write, there must be an equally dark J2.
Title: Happy
Description: NC-17. Jared's life in Jensen's household continues. He measures his worth by his Master's happiness. When Alpha Alan Ackles visits, Master Jensen has to listen to some uncomfortable truths about his slave. This may be easier to understand with knowledge of the first three parts. (Click for MINE, SWEETIE and TRUST )
Betas: This was improved no end with help from the marvelous sylsdarkplace and meus_venator Any mistakes remain my own, I really shouldn't toy with my fic during posting.
Wordcount: ~6,100
Warnings: Dark!fic, institutionalized slavery, explicit sexual situations, pet traits, dub-con, bondage, cock warming, rimming, reference to spanking(paddle), knotting, D/s themes, s/m themes,
Disclaimer: This is fiction, pure fantasy folks. Nobody here belongs to me and they’re not likely to get in my van for candy any time soon.
Banner: The pretty, pretty banner has been made by meus_venator. There is more in the art post here. Go tell her how wonderful it is!
Time means nothing when he’s like this. He’s blessed with the inability to speak, his mouth too full for the horror of finding poor conversation and sensing the disappointment in his Master’s replies. Sun shines through the study window, cheerfully pooling in warm patches, and Jensen works on, with his coffee cooled and forgotten on the corner of his desk. Every so often he shifts in his chair and then Jared’s attention awakes and he follows the motion with swift care and soft lips. He adjusts his own position to ensure his Master’s comfort and forgets to panic at the real possibility that he will lose his own balance and fall forward unchecked, glancing his face against the edge of Jensen’s chair. For a moment gentle fingers will reach to smooth his head and card through the hair behind his ears before retreating to continue the tip-tap at the desk.
Jared’s neck creaks with its awkward angle, his knees redden and gather dust from the floor while his shoulders grow stiff with the bound clasp of his arms behind his back. The space under Jensen’s desk is cramped and his slave barely fits in the dark cube. Jared doesn’t notice. He has a life, a place and a purpose and if he can’t exactly work out how he fits the place or fulfils his purpose, it doesn’t matter when he can have this calm and silent appreciation from the one person who counts.
Coarse hair tickles his nose. His face is buried deep into his Master’s crotch, the top of his head nestled against the base of Jensen’s firm belly. The satisfying weight, the girth and the velvet flesh of Jensen’s limp cock make his jaw ache and stretch his lips until they dry and burn. Time moves on without him, and his tongue stretches and hurts with the requirement to touch the tip to musky, hairy balls with steady warmth. He’s elsewhere, secure, floating, but drool coats his mouth, his gums, his carefully cloaked teeth. It gathers and pools in the base of his mouth, ready to drip obscenely from the crease of his lips, yet his throat is hot and full and dry. He is buried in his Master’s strong scent and ownership, his mind sinking in it. He lets it pull him under, drowns in it, until Jensen is all that there is, all there has ever been, and if his breath wasn’t automatic he would forget to take it.
Eventually, a single clear drop beads from his mouth and a steady drip starts to wear a reddened, stinging trail to his neck. He comes back to himself and he’s not sure how long it’s been but he knows that Jensen has taken breakfast, progressed through coffee and left his lunch untouched. Jared can’t hold back any longer, has to flex his lips and swallow. His tongue slides and slurps over the rough sacs and laps a stripe over Jensen’s cock. His throat flutters around intrusion as his saliva forces a route, soaking the soft dick in its wake. His muscles work and then close and open again around precious contents. He can feel a twitching interest and there’s an instant reaction, blood pumping to fill the alpha’s cock to semi-hardness. There’s a low groan and a hand reaches under the desk. Jared watches it anxiously, and the short chain that connects his collar to the ring on the edge of Jensen’s chair rattles as he pulls his face up in panic, exposing Jensen’s dick to the harsh, dry air. Thumb and forefinger form a circle and then with sudden force, the finger releases to flick painfully at the upturn of Jared’s nose.
“You’re supposed to warm my cock, not play with it, Sweetie. Do you wish to feel the smack of my paddle on your ass again, today?”
Jared knows there is no answer to his Master’s question. Replying will only reduce his attention to the task. This he has learned with the humiliation of being folded over Jensen’s lap to take the pain of stiff leather-coated wood striking his soft ass cheeks until they purple and blacken with bruises, and he snivels, wet with pathetic tears. Jared nuzzles back into Jensen’s body. He carefully encases Jensen’s cock in the silky heat of his mouth and lets his hair trail over skin as his sigh blows warm into the musky vee of his Master’s crotch - he knows that Jensen cannot resist his quiet plea.
“Hm, Jared. Try to do better, yes? I’m almost done here, not much longer.”
Jared retreats into silence and the comfort of coddling his Master’s cock.
Jody comes in to renew Jensen’s coffee. Jared is parched with thirst and his stomach grumbles noisily. She gathers Jensen’s untouched meal and his cold coffee and scolds her Master sweetly for neglecting himself. He lets her remove them, replies with amused banter and neither of them acknowledges the pet between his knees.
It’s unexpected when Jensen finally gathers the short chain in his hand and tugs on Jared’s collar. He scoots his chair back on its wheels, too fast for Jared to keep up, and chuckles as Jared struggles to keep his Master’s cock safe in his mouth and maintain his balance. Stiff knees are too slow; Jared fails and loses his balance. Hazel eyes widen in a fraction of a second as his face rushes towards the angled metal edge of Jensen’s chair. Jared knows he’s going to slam his cheekbone into it, he knows it’s gonna hurt like the devil. At the very last moment Jensen’s legs stall the fall of his slave’s body and soft hands catch Jared’s face to cradle it. Strong fingers angle his chin to look up into the deep green stare of his Master. “Been so good for me. Not gonna mark your pretty face, Sweetie.”
Lips press to the crown of his head in a tender kiss and fingertips smooth Jared’s cheek, trail over his jaw-line and linger on the edge of his collar. They feather over his shoulders and caress his neck at the nub of his spine. Jared gives an involuntary shiver and his reluctant knees catch up with the rest of him. Then he’s kneeling correctly at Jensen’s feet, the short chain still securing him a breath away from his Master’s rapidly swelling cock.
Jensen reaches to his desk and his hand returns to offer a glass of cool water to his slave. He holds it by Jared’s mouth and Jared remembers to look up and thank his Master. He keeps eye contact with Jensen as he darts his tongue out to delicately lap at the surface of the water. His pink tongue curls into his wide mouth with each pass over the water and it glistens and drips onto his red lips. Jared dips into the glass, one, two, three, four times, savors every refreshing liquid pearl, then licks his lips making them gleam. Jensen’s eyes darken with lust and he moans. He removes the glass before swiping the pad of his thumb over Jared’s bottom lip, sliding it on the slick of the cool water.
“All that work makes Johnny a dull boy. We should play, don’t you think?” Jensen stands to push his pants and boxers down to the floor and flicks them off, over his toes.
Sometimes, Jared remembers what play used to mean. There were carefree moments when he was a pup when his family would call him, and the word would have him turning in circles, chasing his alpha playmates, smiling and laughing. His family would throw a ball and he would race after it, the children would tackle him, hang off him and they would roll on the grass together in careless abandon. That definition is long lost and the meaning that replaced it has his gut churning with mixed emotions.
Jared has no words, not today. He makes sure to give his Master a coy smile, not the dazzling show-smile, but the compromise he has secretly worked on, and then he leans in to wrap his lips around Jensen’s balls, to suck enthusiastically at them. He wants to be good for him, needs to be perfect and if Jensen’s play hurts him in ways he can’t express, then it is a small price to pay for the pleasure it gives his Master and the close affection and sense of pride that accompanies it. That it seems to get more difficult to co-operate with every occasion is surely his imagination.
Jared remembers every instruction, every blissed-out moan and grunt of passion or encouragement Jensen has made during sex. He licks experimentally at Jensen’s perineum and hands grip his hair, steer his head. He takes the hint, knows what Jensen likes by now. Jensen repositions himself by Jared’s face and Jared isn’t able to unclasp his hands behind his back so he pushes between Jensen’s butt cheeks with his nose. He sticks out his tongue and licks in a broad swipe across the furled muscle which quivers there. He wonders if this is what his Master sees when he fucks him. It surely cannot be the same? This shining pink rose which seems so small and tight? He doesn’t know how any cock could possibly fit the space. It’s not his concern and he has to stop thinking. He works saliva over his tongue and sticks it out again and then he’s lapping in circular motions around the rim. He’s getting it wet, dribbling into the hole and darting his tongue inside. Jensen is sliding his own hand over his cock in time with Jared’s actions, biting his lip and moaning, low and abandoned. “Good little ass-licker. Good boy.” He’s encouraged by the praise, licks harder, probes further and arches his tongue inside the hot cavity as he explores the circular channel. The alpha isn’t going to last much longer, he’s breathing heavy, ready to knot soon, “Jesus, fuck, so special, pet,” his Master croons and it makes Jared feel special, clever and needed.
Jared closes his eyes and breathes out slow when Jensen unclips his collar and bends him over the desk. His forehead is squashed to the smooth surface, hands still bound behind him. He reminds himself that it’s like any other discipline, the first is always worst. He can get through it, come out the other side. The action, the adrenaline, Jensen’s pheromones, they all combine to make it good, and he gets a high, really he does.
“Good Boy.”
The thrill of the words courses through Jared and he can ignore the careless and swift removal of his modest butt-plug, that has sticky lube and cum from their morning coupling dribbling against his ass cheeks.
Jensen’s fingers dig hard into his hips and his fingertips gather Jared’s skin under manicured nails as he yanks his pet back, too fast and too hard, to impale him on his thick length. Jared loses his breath for a moment, his hands curl tight in their bondage and his nails press neat half moons into his palms. Tears pool in his eyes and drip over his lashes but somehow he bites back the sob and chokes out, “Master,” makes it sound welcome, raw and emotional. He’s a good pet. Always has been.
It’s physical, gritty and needy. His Master thrusts, fills, scrapes and burns, and yet the words are loving. Teeth clench and tear at Jared’s flesh. The bite wounds trickle blood in itching streams and deep bruises bloom. Then Jensen’s lips close and they oh-so-tenderly trace over his flesh with chuffs of warm breath and the softest kisses. It’s a contradiction that thrills and scares, comforts and eases, confuses the hell out of Jared. The pace of the push and pull picks up and it gets easier, his muscles begin to unclench. There’s a blissful groan from his master as the knot forms and he can just make out the words, “Sshh, S’alright. Relax, y’don’t relax enough, Jared.”
He screams, he’s never been able to prevent his primal reaction to the agonizing invasion of Jensen’s knot but Jensen’s reaction is also consistent, he pushes harder and faster in an animal response to the evidence of his domination, then stalls as his first release spurts hot, soothing ejaculate into his slave’s tortured channel. For Jared the effect is instant balm and a growing euphoria. There’s the pleasant massage of his prostate but Jared’s revolt never lessens for the dribbling emission that is the reminder of his castration. While his Master is prepared to overlook his deficiency he can ignore it though. A faint, genuine smile reaches Jared’s lips.
Jared’s not sure when he last took a breath, but now he inhales a huge raggedy lungful. Jensen collapses over his back and his kisses are gentle, he’s rocking his hips, the knot inside Jared exerting a circular pressure as it releases its load. Large hands grasp around his waist and then pull at his tied wrists, carefully manoeuvring him to sit back on his Master’s cock on the rolling work chair. They both laugh nervously as it moves under them, but Jensen puts out a foot and stops its trundle across the floor. Jared’s head falls back against Jensen’s shoulder and he’s held safe in strong arms as delicate fingertips circle his nipples with a sparking sensation that travels his spine and excites every nerve ending. There are no words. Jared doesn’t know what to say and Jensen’s silence seems somehow tinged with sadness.
Jared is still there, filled up, fucked-out and knotted to Jensen when there’s a quiet beep on the information pad and Jensen manipulates him to reach forward and observe the vid screen for the main door. He doesn’t know where to look when Jensen waves Steve into the room. Steve seems similarly mortified; he’s keeping his eyes low and looking everywhere but in the direction of his Master and his bound, bloodied and debauched pet. Jensen is unfazed, “Mm, Sweetie is beautiful on my knot. Takes it so well. Such a beautiful fuck.” It’s a proud compliment and his master reaches to stroke at his pet’s limp cock and cuddles his face onto Jared’s shoulder.
Jared should be bursting with honor, but he’s not. It’s the first time he’s been forced to imagine how others see him and even the intoxication of the knotting cannot chase away the sense of self disgust, the dirty, wrong, bad of it. There’s a brief moment when he can see pity in Steve’s expression and his eyes glaze with silent tears that roll over his cheeks, but Steve recovers, his stare hardens and his attitude is businesslike. Jared sniffs once and recovers, closing his eyes and lying boneless against his Master, nothing left to give.
Jensen is speaking but the words wash over his pet. “He’s my father, make sure he’s comfortable in the main reception room. Offer him bourbon, white wine or juice and tell him I’ll be through in a few minutes. Do not antagonize him in any way but do not let him in here either. Can you manage that?”
“Yes, Master.” Steve bows low and exits the room in uncharacteristic haste.
***
Jared’s shoulders cramp with the release of his wrists. He is exhausted, just wants to lie down and sleep, but he’s been hastily freshened by his Master and pads correctly by his alpha’s side to greet his father. He’s been warned about Master Alan Ackles’ experience with show pets and his high standards, so he grits his teeth and coaxes his tired muscles to take the expected shape and stance. He swings his hips in a feline sway as he enters the room and remains alert for commands, gestures and conversation. He keeps his eyes wide with fake innocence and lets his hair fall softly over his face. He crawls close enough to feel the warmth in his Master’s legs and when Jensen stops he leans into him, without thought, craving the reassurance of touch.
Jared wasn’t expecting Jensen to hug his father but the action is genuine and it calms the pet. There’s an obvious love and closeness between them and they’re both smiling when they pull apart and seat themselves on big squashy armchairs that are angled for chatting. Jensen gives a command and Jared sighs with relief. He settles in a stretched curve against his Master’s feet and his arms cross on the floor in front of him, to rest his head on. He doesn’t close his eyes just yet but gazes lazily up at his Master for approval and then across at Master Alan in curiosity. Jensen reaches to rub behind his ears and laughs at his reaction, “Nosy, pet,” then turns to his father with an explanation, “You’ll have to excuse him, he’s not used to visitors.”
“I can imagine.” Alan Ackles’ voice is similar to Jensen’s, less deep but with the same drawl and laid back ease. “After all, you failed to tell your own parents you were back in the country.”
There’s an awkward silence as Jared’s Master opens and closes his mouth without sound. Alan Ackles holds up his hand to prevent any excuse and speaks up, “Don’t bother, Jen. However often we remind you that we’d like to know what is going on with your life, we know that you will always get distracted by work. I met Christian at the market this morning. He was extremely eager to avoid me, but I nabbed him regardless. Imagine my surprise at finding him shopping in a pet store, for a full size travel-harness. To my knowledge Christian has never shown interest in acquiring a pet.” Alan let his gaze fall to Jared and Jared licked his lips to a shine and returned a shy look.
“I’m wondering if your reluctance to make contact with your mother and I has anything to do with the insane decision to move into Uncle Fraser’s money-pit of ancient bricks and mortar with a motley assortment of second hand slaves and a rescue-pet. Forgive me if I’m jumping to conclusions but I think you know your mother will faint with the worry.”
Jensen still doesn’t speak, he swallows hard and makes a noise that sounds something like, “Ah, but,”
Master Alan continues, with a sharp look to his son, “Christian told me everything, Jen. He’s your friend and he worries about you. I’m assuming the harness was for this fella. You know I could have lent you one, I’m sure I have a few spare in his size.”
Jared’s eyelids are heavy with exhaustion. He lets his eyes close but he doesn’t sleep, the mention of a harness has him worried about the places his Master might be intending to take him. Jensen reaches to caress his slave’s shoulder, “You can sleep, Jared,” he speaks quietly. To his father he simply says, “He’s worn out.”
Jared settles more comfortably and lets himself drift. The discussion seems far away and muffled but he hears their words anyway. He senses Jody’s presence, and there’s clinking cups and soft steps, then Master Alan’s voice, “It may seem completely ridiculous to me but that girl is perfectly correct and the slave who let me in has a good manner. I can see a difference in the house already. It is becoming clean and comfortable. How do you manage without a ganger?”
A short laugh is followed by Jensen’s reply, “Honestly, I have no idea. I know it was an impetuous decision, but they seem to be grateful for a second chance and I feel like Lord of the Manor. I’ve decided to use it for research. I’ve watched the way these slaves work together, it’s like descriptions I have from large households in the 19th Century. My theory is that eventually they will form their own systems and hierarchy in the same way that human servants once ran households for the human mistress of the house.”
“An upstairs-downstairs sort of arrangement? Interesting, so who is your bet for butler?” muses Master Alan.
“My current favorite is Steve but Jody is a strong contender too. At least the experiment needs no funding,” adds Jensen.
“And you’re not worried that they will take advantage or murder you in your bed?”
“The whole household is under surveillance and I have voice command for their collars if necessary. I’m not stupid, Pa.”
“I didn’t think you were. Tell me how the pet fits in to your plans. I’m concerned that you need to restrain him for travel. You know I’m always here to help, and pets, they’re my thing, Jen.”
Jared can hear Jensen’s exhale, “I didn’t think you’d approve.”
“I don’t, for so many reasons, Jensen, but I wouldn’t wish any pet to suffer more than their role dictates. Can I take a look? I won’t disturb him for long.”
There’s a measure of defeat in Jensen’s agreement and the shake of his pet’s shoulders. “Wake up for a moment, Jared.”
Jared’s eyes are sticky with sleepiness but he opens them wide and shakes himself to kneel in submission for Jensen’s Pa.
Master Alan crouches in front of him, “Aw, he’s beautiful, Jen. Just gorgeous! Those eyes!” There’s a sharp intake of breath as the man peers at him again and his tone changes, “Jensen, is this is a Padalecki? Jeez, haven’t I taught you anything? I could have found you a pup, something suitable.”
“Technically, he’s not anything. He was declassified before he was sold. He’s certified as all-purpose now,” Jensen argues with a scowl.
Alpha Alan Ackles virtually snarls at his son, “Don’t get smart with me, boy. He’ll never be anything but a Padalecki. There are reasons why we’re looking to get Padalecki Kennels kicked from the show circuit, and they aren’t good ones. Do you want to perpetuate their methods by keeping one?”
“He’s already here, Pa. As you pointed out, he was a rescue. What am I supposed to do, take him outside with a gun and a single bullet?” Jensen is reddening with frustration.
“What are you expecting from him? Are you fucking him?”
Jensen looks defiantly at his father and his chin juts out. He doesn’t answer.
“Then yes, Jen, yes, that might be kinder for him. It’s a long time since you kept a pet and this is nothing like Ossy. I’m not sure any Padalecki has the emotional capacity to cope with that sort of change, especially not an old pet.”
Master Alan puts a hand on Jared’s head and strokes his hair. “Sorry, buddy, not your fault,” he says sadly. He reaches into a pocket and rustles a bag and Jared raises his head, he knows the sound and there’s the rich, dark scent of chocolate treats. “You want one?” The question is directed at him. Jared looks at Jensen and his Master nods his approval, though he’s considering the bag of treats with a look that speaks of some sort of revelation. Jared’s eyes sparkle, he adores chocolate and candy treats. In a moment he’s lost his wariness of Jensen’s father. He’s suddenly fully awake, belly to the floor, creeping to the man’s knees. Foxy hazel eyes focus on the bag, with brief glances at the alpha’s face, to check this isn’t a tease. When he’s close enough to touch, Jared raises a hand and places it gingerly on Master Alan’s knee while he cocks his head to one side and licks the very tips of this alpha’s fingers. “Please, Sir,” he begs prettily.
“Good Boy. So they left you a voice. You must have been a quiet pup.” Alan Ackles holds out a palm full of brightly colored chocolate treats and Jared drops his face to the hand to inhale their scent before picking them up, one by one, delicately between soft lips and eating them slowly and politely. There’s a slight happy whine in his throat as the chocolate melts sensuously on his tongue and he’s rubbing against Master Alan’s other hand, letting him smooth his palm all over his body, as he runs an expert eye over Jensen’s pet, assessing his condition.
“Wow, he likes you.” Jensen’s voice is tinged with envy.
“He really likes chocolate,” comments Master Alan cynically.
The sugar gives Jared a happy boost and he kneels properly, his eyelids no longer droop.
“You’re too old for me to lecture Jensen, but you have to see how easily your pet slides into pup mentality. This isn’t a slave and never will be. If you’re looking for a replacement for Richard then you’re putting unfair expectations on him.”
“I never said he was a bed slave,” Jensen sounded petulant.
“But he’s taking Richard’s role, don’t even bother to argue. It isn’t right to fuck your pet, Jensen. Bed slaves are bred, altered and trained for sex with their alphas. They learn wiles and diversions and enjoyment. Most of them lead their Masters around by the knot and we let them. Pets have no such understanding. They have a significant capacity to endure physical pain, even a satisfaction in it, but most, and especially Padalecki breed, are engineered to obey with innocence. They rarely mature emotionally. I saw how you were with Ossy and I wasn’t happy with it, but he grew up with you, he could find a way to distract you or even tell you no.” Alan Ackles huffs and runs his hand through his hair, “I know, I know! I said I wouldn’t lecture. Now, do you want to tell me why you want the harness? Or do I have to drag it from you?”
Jensen mumbles into his hand, “I need to take him to the vet.”
Master Alan looks exasperated, “He seems healthy enough, or are you a coward who can’t take responsibility for foolish actions? If you want to end him, then there are quick ways without the stress of a journey and strangers.”
“No, no! It’s just … there’s a modification … and there’s something not quite right. I want him checked out, that’s all.”
Alan shakes his head, “I don’t think I want to know about the modification, do I?”
“Probably not.” Jensen looks sheepish, and Jared’s head is a whirl of worries. A visit to the vet is never good news and invariably involves extreme pain. He doesn’t like the sound of modification at all. He doesn’t realize that he’s shivering until he feels simultaneous steadying hands of both Jensen and his father. “Shhh, Sweetie,” reassures his Master.
“Do you want to pick my brains about whatever else is wrong while I’m here, Jensen? Or should I just investigate what cake is in your kitchen and steal your coffee? Your mother seems to think I should be cutting down. There’s a terrible lack of anything tasty in our cupboards.”
“I’ll get Genevieve to send up coffee, and cakes and you can give me your opinion, Pa,” concedes Jensen. “I’ll let Jared settle to sleep first.”
Gen brings in the refreshments, and Mike gives a formal bow as he deposits Jared’s day cushion on the floor by Jensen’s feet. The slaves introduce themselves to Alan Ackles, and he seems charmed by their conduct. Jensen has Jared curl against his legs and the pet shuts his eyes obediently but he cannot bear to sleep in such uncertainty.
“There’s nothing I can put my finger on, he’s simply not thriving. According to his records he’s lost weight and tone, but he has no appetite.” Jensen is talking about Jared. “He’s used to working out in a gym, and I haven’t got one here. I’m not sure how he’s going to get sufficient exercise, or even if I should push it while he’s so …well, down.”
“Describe what you mean by ‘down’, Jen.” Master Alan sounds concerned.
“Don’t get me wrong, Jared is lovely. Apart from his age he’s still show-perfect. He’s obedient, loyal and very affectionate but he hasn’t got any spark. He loves to complete tasks. He takes discipline well, lives for the praise, but even then, there’s no joy in him. Sometimes he smiles and even that seems sad. He can talk but he hardly ever speaks to me.”
“It’s a difficult adjustment for an old pet, Jensen.” Alan sounds old and weary all of a sudden. “If Padalecki pups don’t want their vocal chords cut, they learn to keep quiet. Even then, some owners will require it, or teach them to bark instead. They are a high-end commodity and their DNA and behavior is tailored to specific requirements from conception. Still, it is unusual for one to display unhappy traits. They are usually a very smiley, bouncy breed, until they break. Unfortunately, they break more often than others.”
“I told him not to smile. I hate that fake smile.”
“I doubt he’s ever been allowed to acknowledge that he has negative emotions. It is going to take a lot of time and love for him to understand what he’s feeling. If he’s no longer a pet, then he’s had his identity taken from him, and the poor fella must be utterly lost and confused. It would be in a Padalecki’s nature to do anything to please you, but some of those things might damage him permanently, both physically and mentally. I think you know what I’m talking about. For any pet there is willing submission and then there is traumatic submission, and the line between the two can be a fine one. You need to know your pet well to make that judgement.”
“No, he’s adjusted. He does everything I ask.” Even as he speaks, there’s a tremor of doubt in his Master’s voice. Then there’s an angry edge as Jensen asks, “If it’s so terrible, why do you do it? Why did you let us? Why keep pets when you think it so cruel?”
“I love them. They are calming for any owner and they’re a special kind of friend to the family they grow up with. I can’t imagine a home without one. When they’re bred and cared for properly they have a good life. They’re true companions and they are happy that way. Did you ever think any of our pets were ill-treated?”
“No, and I don’t mistreat Jared.”
“I hope you’re right. As for the rest, by all means have the vet look him over, but tell me, how did Ossy stay so fit and healthy? We didn’t have a gym when you were growing up.”
“I don’t know, he just did.” Jensen sounds mystified. “He just ran around with us and played. Oh …” Jared can hear the realization in Jensen’s voice, “I guess we played ball and ran around.”
“And shared your food with him, despite it being forbidden. Don’t think your ma and I never noticed that, Jensen!” Master Alan interjects.
The conversation veers away from Jared then and Alan Ackles is teasing Jensen for childhood misdemeanours. It’s a good sound, which harks back to when Jared was a young pup. It reminds him of security and family, and despite his worries he slips into a light, fitful sleep waking occasionally to the reassurance of a hand smoothing his hair or his shoulder.
When Jared is finally shaken awake for his evening meal, there is a full-size football on the floor beside him and an old yellow teddy bear tucked under his arm.
“Pa had toys in his car. He thought you might like some,” explains Jensen. “I’m sure he brought them over especially for you, because he’s soft for a new pet. I thought we could all play football after dinner. It might be fun, Mike and Steve, even Gen and Jody are going to join me. What do you think?"
Jared can barely believe it, He stares at the ball with wonder, as if it might be taken away, or disappear by magic. He feels the urge to speak but all that comes out is, “Yes, please.” It isn’t a conversation but his Master seems thrilled with his words.
He eats his kibble carefully, from the bowl on the floor in the kitchen and when he’s chewed the last nugget Jensen calls him over, to praise him, cards fingers through his hair and offers him grapes from his hand. Jared’s eyes shine with excitement at the prospect of a second treat that day and his whole body jiggles with the anticipation of each one. Jensen throws one in the air experimentally, and Jared jumps and catches it in his mouth.
He’s given a snug pair of briefs to wear and they feel constricting and peculiar but Jensen insists it will be safer for Jared during football games. They go out to the garden to play, and this time Jensen really means play. Jared stands upright and walks, because he is outside the house, and it’s allowed. He remembers how tall he is. He's head and shoulders above every member of the household, even Jensen. It makes him feel grown-up. It makes him feel human.
The grass is soft and springy under his feet and he curls his toes into it, relishing the sensation before he nervously launches himself to the area where Mike is clutching the ball and taunting Genevieve to come get it from him. It doesn’t take long for Jared to recall rules and tactics and he’s a natural athlete. The happiness that bubbles through him and dimples his cheeks surprises Jared. He feels light headed and the colors around him seem brighter, the noises more cheerful. His cheeks flush pink with the unexpected giddiness of enjoyment. He can feel the fast pump of blood through his veins and a beguiling breeze on his skin.
Jared sneaks a look at Jensen as he plays. Jensen has a slightly bemused expression on his face watching his slaves tumble over each other in a poor approximation of football, but they are all laughing and their Master laughs too, a deep, belly laugh. Jared is more reserved, but he’s catching and throwing the ball, and running to retrieve it when it is thrown too far. When the fun finally wears him out, Jared is panting with exertion and his knees buckle under him. Jensen is by his side before he can fall. He catches his pet, hugs him close to help him inside.
“I’ve seen you in almost every way possible, Jared and you are always beautiful, but this now… there is nothing more enchanting than your smile when it reaches your eyes.” His Master wears his own smile so wide his green-gold eyes are alive with joy, and laughter lines crease at the corners. The gleeful expression lights up Jared’s heart in a way he has no words for.
***
In bed that night, Jensen holds him close and clears his throat, looking for words, “Jared, when I said that it didn’t matter if you are my slave or my pet, I meant it didn’t matter to me. You’re mine to do what I like with and I don’t want to limit us. What I’m trying to say, is that whatever classification we choose, it doesn’t change what you are to me and it’s not wrong or less to be my pet and do all that. I don’t mind if you think of yourself as my pet,” He whispers the next part in Jared’s ear with a low growl, “a very sexy, bright pet,” before his voice returns to normal. “I’d like you to talk to me but you don’t have to. I’m not going to be angry whatever you say, because it probably takes practice.” There’s a momentary pause before Jensen continues, as if the next concession is difficult for him to offer, “If you ever want to sleep on your cushion and not in my bed, then I suppose I could make an exception sometimes.”
Jared snuggles closer to his Master, tucks his head against Jensen’s shoulder and grips his teddy’s ear in one hand, “Have you ever met a pet that didn’t want to sleep in the bed, Jensen?” He says it with a smile, and it feels like he is going to burst with the tension of wondering if his Master understands his attempt at humor.
Jensen smirks and shakes his head, “Very funny. I guess not,” he replies, “So, are you okay? Like this?”
“Of course,” Jared answers. Because he is. How could he not be? His Master is happy and that is what defines him.
~~~
To sequel: STORM