FIC: In Dream Worlds
Title: In Dream Worlds
Author: balefully
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,800
Warnings: Dystopian future. Slavefic. Puppy play. Pretty extreme and ridiculous dirty talk. D/s. I DON'T KNOW. It also has no ending and no middle and is a massive, massive pile of insanity.
Summary: Jared is a loner with a good heart who rescues Jensen, who is being sold on the streets. He does his best to give Jensen what he needs, and ends up with a lot more than he bargained for.
Notes: This is for salt_burn_porn! My prompt was from luvscharlie, and was, "Well, I was expecting bigger, actually." What the fuck did I even think I was doing, trying to write an entire universe for a 24-hour porn challenge, espesh when I wasn't home/able to write for like half of it. I DON'T KNOW. I JUST DON'T. PRETEND IT HAS AN ENDING PLEASE. I also haven't read it over or anything, so let me know about typos/random things that make no sense/the fact that there is no middle and no end and nothing actually works in any coherent way.
In Dream Worlds
The road into the ward is nothing but packed dirt, cracked and stretching out to melt into scrub brush and tumbleweeds for miles on either side. Thick dust clouds everything, stings Jared's eyes and makes them water and squint as he trots towards the smoggy, sickly shadow of buildings in the distance. Seven's hardly breaking a sweat even though the heat bakes everything into a uniform beige. "Good girl," Jared murmurs absently, and pats her neck, carding his fingers through her mane while he sits heavy and steady in the saddle.
He passes the border patrol without any problem, flashing his government-issue ID and checking one of his guns with the arms security unit. The other one is concealed in a highly illegal compartment in the tree of his saddle, and not a soul need know about it unless it's pointed in his face.
The ward streets are always dirty and loud and usually pretty violent; Seven used to be a mess, shying and pitching a fit whenever Jared tried to ride her in for a pick-up. It's been less than a year she's spent with him now, though, and she just slid right into it like she was born to maneuver through the insanity. He takes her inward at least once a week, now, and he could swear she looks forward to it. No accounting for taste.
Jared turns her up a relatively clear alley and starts over to the pick-up site in Precinct G. He only gets as far as D before a roadblock and security unit divert them three blocks West. It wouldn't be too much of a problem to just circle around and take the longer way to G, except that'll put Jared riding straight through the stock yards.
He hates the stock yards.
It's more important to get to the pick-up than to indulge his own whims, though, so he nudges Seven onwards and just tries to keep his eyes fixed on the gridlights on the street corners marking the precincts. But of course Jared can't help it. Never could. His gaze is drawn to the wasting, dirty, empty-eyed slaves chained up in pens and chutes that line every street.
For the dogs and the horses and other animals of the ward, he can run pick-ups. No one can make much money off them, and would rather not waste bullets on putting them down if there are crazy land-owning free men-Jared-who come into the ward just to pick them up and take them to the outskirts. The slaves, though. No one could stage a rescue for a slave, not and live to tell about it. And there's no one in the world could afford to buy all the slaves to set 'em free, neither. Not to mention that'd just be dumping more dough into the pockets of the slave-traders. Giving 'em exactly what they want.
There's a jam by the Precinct G gridlight-ain't that always the way-so Jared pulls Seven over to the water station and swings down so she can have a break while he waits for a security unit to sort out whatever the trouble is. The water station butts up to a stock pen, so Jared can't really look anywhere else but through the splintered slats and into the muddy holding area while Seven drinks.
A pair of green eyes blinks back at him, unfocused and lethargic. Jared's kind of startled at first; didn't expect to see a slave so close-up and face-on like that, just waiting there on the other side of the boards. Jared's real tall but he can't quite see over the into the yard very well, so he climbs back up into the saddle and stands in the stirrups, peering down into the pen.
Green-eyes is staring right back at him. The slave's a guy, probably older than Jared, but then again who fucking knows with what these people go through. Could be any age at all. He's built real nice, got short hair, indeterminate color because he's just the blah shade of grime all over that most people in the ward end up. He shifts while he looks up at Jared, and it's clear he's favoring his right leg, his left arm, and that he's got some pretty bad contusions on his chest and back and belly. Nose looks like it was broken once and badly set. Still, though. He's just beautiful. Makes Jared so fucking mad to see it; this man reduced to chattle when he's a person just like Jared, has those eyes, that mouth. Breaks his fucking heart.
The jam clears right when the slave-trader gets to the pen Green-eyes is in, and the security unit starts rushing people through, so Jared just gives the slave a nod and rides on-he's got work to do.
**
All through the pick-up, those green eyes stay with Jared. The way that slave was watching him. There was something there under the dirt and the broken body and the dull lifeless cast. He's still thinking about him when he's forking over some petty cash, when he's strapping the cart and harness to Seven's saddle, when he's loading in the crates, when he's riding back out to the street, following the gridlights back to Precinct A.
Except, of course, he's gotta detour back through the stock yards. He sees the water station coming up on the left, and this time, a gaggle of the slaves have been herded out into a chute running in front of the pens. They're chained up, collared, shackled, but bumping and jostling amongst themselves. Without even looking for him, Jared's eyes find the green-eyed slave, slumped but still taller than most of the rest. He palms the switch on his saddle compartment-he has a wad of saved-up cash in there. Always brings it with him to the city on pick-ups just in case. Jared's got a fair amount of money saved up; not too much, of course, but enough to make some significant rescues. He doesn't need much in life, and that means more to keep for those who really do need it. Something acidic eats at him unpleasantly-he's gotta do something.
"Hey, Trader!" he calls, and rides Seven right up the gate, cart thunking along the uneven ground behind them. "How about that one?" He points at Green-eyes with a thumb, trying to keep it careless, make for a better haggle.
The slave-trader looks up from branding an older man's ankle. He's missing most of his teeth but he's got a thick, dark head of hair and a scratchy patch of stubble under his slack mouth. "Jensen there'll go for three thousand. Non-negotiable. He's the best I got."
Jared just stares at him, a horrified twist crimping his belly. Three thousand for a human? A human as goddamned pretty as that Jensen? It's shameful, is what it is. All the better for Jared, though. And for Jensen.
"That number too big for you, there, son?" the trader says, laughing with a burble of spit and tobacco juice. He comes over and leans on the fence, face creased with his dim-witted smile.
Jared pulls out his billfold and chucks half of it at the slave-trader, who scrambles after it. He sets his shoulders, narrows his eyes. "Well, I expected bigger, actually," he says coldly, and jerks his head from Jensen to the cart. "I'll take him."
Jensen just blinks back. The trader messes with a tangle of clanky, rusted chains, and pulls the slave out of the chute by the one welded to the metal band on his neck. Jared watches intently while the trader loops the chain through one of the brackets on the side of the cart where the crates are secured, and shoves Jensen into the bed of the cart with a heavy hand.
It's physical effort for Jared to tear his eyes away from the slave and nudge Seven back into the chaos of the street, heading back towards the arms unit to pick up his gun and get border clearance to go home. He can't help looking back whenever he gets a chance.
**
The ride back to Jared's farmhouse in the outskirts is uneventful, considering. The landscape changes from dirty grey to calm green in a smooth gradient the farther away from the ward they get. Jared's modest little farmhouse perches on the lip of a pond that used to be a vast lake, and looks out over flat grassland that Jared tended and shaped into fields and paddocks, perfect for his family of horses and dogs. Most of the animals he's managed to save end up with him here, as much as he tries to find others who'll keep them and treat them right. The land was passed down to him through generations, and while his family hasn't ever been rich, they've always been afforded some semblance of power through the status that comes with still being a landowner in times like these.
Jared does the best he can with what he's got. He built the house himself, just a plain wood cabin; he chopped the logs and shingled the roof and installed insulation, drywall, the appliances he's got. He's handy and likes the soothing burn of hard work and tangible accomplishment, so it was a pleasure. All his money comes from making furniture anyway; might as well make a place to keep some for himself.
The animals all know what's up, used to Jared's weekly pick-ups by now. A couple of the horses are looking skittish, though-of course they can probably smell that there's suddenly another human here, not just beat-down dogs who need a good place to recuperate.
Jared goes through the whole process like it's just another ordinary pick-up day. He takes care of Seven and puts her out in the pasture with One, Two, and Five. The horses get numbers because the stalls have numbers; the dogs don't really have names, either, although Jared refers to them by their defining characteristics in his head and maybe he'll call them "boy" or "girl" or "buddy" every once in a while. Dogs and horses in the wild don't give each other names, and Jared doesn't mess with how nature does things. He's seen a lot of animals come and go, and he's not there to own any of 'em. Just get them back on their feet and give them a job to do if they want it, offer a little structure and comfort. The two dogs he brought back today are in good shape, so he introduces them to the pack right away, no recovery time needed. Everything goes off without a hitch, and Jared's done for the night.
Except, of course, that Jensen is still chained to the cart. He fell asleep on the journey back, and Jared didn't have the heart to wake him. He's up now, peering around the edge of the cart as Jared strides over. When he sees Jared coming, he darts back inside.
Jared climbs in after him with a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters and cuts the chain from the band around Jensen's neck, then the hinge of the band itself so it falls away into Jared's palm. Jensen shifts nervously, so close Jared can feel his hot breath against his arm. "So-" Jared starts, running a dirty hand through his hair, smearing it with sweat. "I guess you better come inside." Jensen's neck is raw-red where the band was, shiny and oozing and dark around the edges like there's gotta be a fungal infection and some rot deep in the welts or something. "I'll get you cleaned up, alright?" It really doesn't look good.
Jensen doesn't move until Jared's out of the cart, and when he does, it's a slow, pained walk. It's not clear what happened to the guy to put him in such bad shape, but Jared can hazard a couple of guesses. Jensen follows one step behind him, head down, hands at his sides. He's wearing some grimy, standard-issue shorts and that's it. They're really more like underwear, worn and clinging to the thick muscles of his thighs and ass. Jared swallows and clears his throat, leading the way into his house. He jerks his thumb at the washroom on the right, actually pretty damn big and with a huge, ancient, double-slipper iron tub smack in the middle. "So I figure you could get clean here? I actually usually use this tub for the dogs, real sorry about that, but I just got a shower in my bathroom and I think you need a good soak before you're feelin' up to much else, am I right?" Jared offers Jensen an easy smile, but Jensen just looks confused and kinda scared. "Do you speak English?" Still nothing. "Understand it at least?" Nothing.
He starts the water running instead, nice and hot but not scalding. There's a showerhead attachment in the middle of the tub on the edge, but he just leaves it for now. Once the tub's full-way more water than he'd ever use with one of the dogs-Jared reaches out real slow to put a hand on Jensen's shoulder, just a gentle guiding touch, nothing heavy or forced. Jensen still flinches though, and shuffles back a little. Jared doesn't let go, just turns Jensen towards the tub and offers his other hand for stability. "C'mon," he coaxes. "Get undressed. I'll go start rustling up something for you in the kitchen, okay? You got towels in the closet and I'll bring you something to wear."
Jensen just stares at him, looking confused again. He looks at the tub, then back and Jared. It's like trying to get one of the pups into the bath, almost. Jared smiles and shakes his head. "I was just trying to give you some dignity if you wanted it. I can help, if you need." Jensen shifts uneasily on his feet, looking at the tub and back at Jared again, then nods, slowly and almost imperceptibly, but Jared's nothing if not observant.Jensen manages to slide the shorts down his legs and shuffle out of them, looking down at the puddle of them on the floor. Jared tries not to stare.
He can't help it, but he handles Jensen like he would one of the dogs-it's the only way he can think of to do it, because Jensen doesn't even want to take his hand. After a second of hesitation, Jared touches his torso just around the waist and leads him gently by the hipbones to the tub.
"Can you lift that leg?" he asks, and is relieved when Jensen manages to. It takes a minute for Jensen to get in the tub, and Jared leads him every step of the way, holding him under the arms to help him ease down into the water. Some sloshes out over the side, but he's used to that. Jensen breathes out noisily, as if the water's hurting him. "Too hot?" Jared asks, but of course, he doesn't get an answer. Not besides Jensen glancing up at him with an unreadable expression.
The water goes gritty fast with all that ward grime. Dust swirls slate gray off Jensen's skin, and underneath, it's surprisingly pale and nice. Jared reaches into the water to help rub it off Jensen's lower back, pushing water in slow strokes up his spine until the dust's washed away. He finds that some of the spots that look like dirt are actually freckles, pale but numerous. When he looks at Jensen's face, his eyes are squeezed shut. He looks just like a little boy in the bath like that. But the way he's so silent and sitting there obediently, knees poking up out of the water, somehow Jared just feels like he's washing a tired, limping, dirty dog.
"Wonder how long it's been since you've been clean," Jared murmurs.
Jensen's chin drops, and Jared puts a soothing hand on his neck, feeling grime and rubbing it away.
This, Jensen responds to, lifting his chin again and breathing deeply in pleasure. Jared grins in spite of everything-the situation, how horrified he is at how anyone could mistreat a fellow human being into such silence-and rubs Jensen's neck slow and deep, leaning in on his knees and kneading his shoulders with both hands. Maybe it's the feeling of getting clean, but he could swear Jensen melts more and more by the minute as he works.
"You liking that?" he asks, and is surprised when Jensen tips his head, rubbing his cheek on Jared's fingers. It feels good, even if it's sorta strange that a person would be nuzzling him like that instead of just nodding.
**
Later that night, after Jensen is clean, dry, doctored up and fed and full dark has fallen over the outskirts, Jared drifts off with the heavy, comforting weight and warmth of Jensen curled at the foot of his bed. Jensen tried to sleep on the floor at first, and only after tireless coaxing would he even get on the bed at all. Jared's going to have to work with him until he'll actually stretch out and sleep under the covers. He wishes he had a bed for Jensen to sleep in on his own, of course, but he figures sharing can't hurt when one's all he's got.
Jensen's breaths pull Jared into sleep, and he dreams vividly, as he often does after an eventful day. In the dream he's riding One, still young and galloping all-out like he used to, back when he was the lone horse at Jared's place. A couple of the dogs are running alongside, and the sky is bright and open and blue like Jared only vaguely remembers it ever being. The farmhouse is just a speck on the horizon at first, but it grows as One gallops and the world seems to shrink around them. The porch comes into clear view and Jared can see the dogs sprawled across it, soaking in the sun and the heat from the toasty floorboards.
He's on foot all of a sudden, as happens in dream worlds, One suddenly gone. Jared walks up the steps to the house, and as he leans to greet one of the pups, he realizes it's Jensen. Jensen healed up good as new, clean and bright-eyed and staring up at Jared with adoration from where he's kneeling on the porch just like one of the dogs. He's got a thick leather collar on, tags jangling, but he's not wearing any clothes at all. He butts his head affectionately against Jared's thigh, makes a gentle, sighing sort of noise. Like he's happy to see his master.
Jared can't help himself-he reaches down and brushes a hand through Jensen's soft hair, golden brown in the sun. He scritches him behind the ears, rubs nice and firm at the base of Jensen's neck where he likes it best, kneading the thick muscle there and around his shoulders. Jensen presses his naked body closer against Jared's legs, leaning and taking deep, slow breaths, eyes closed and mouth slack in pleasure. "C'mon, boy," Jared says, slapping his thigh and going inside, Jensen following on all fours like it's the easiest thing in the world.
Jared flops down on the couch and thwacks the cushion next to him. Jensen clambers up sort of awkwardly from the floor, eyes crinkled in a smile, devoted and hopeful. He's so unabashedly bare, sprawling there and letting Jared stare at him, gaze raking over his body, Jensen just basking in the attention. "God, you're beautiful," Jared says, and it comes out hoarse, a complicated tangle of emotions welling up in his throat. Jensen's body is pretty close to flawless without the scars and bruises and gashes. His muscles twitch and his chest rises and falls with calm breaths. His dick lies half-hard against his thigh, thick and perfect and naked, flushed pretty pink just like Jensen's cheeks and neck. Jared's fingers itch. "C'mere, pup." It just slips out, feels right. Jensen's not his slave; Jensen wants to be his puppy.
Jensen scootches over on the couch, perching on all fours next to Jared. Jared slides his fingers under Jensen's collar, tracing the smooth skin under it-no sign of scars. Jensen shivers, and Jared can see the ripple of muscle all the way down from his neck to his calves. "Miss your master today?"
Jensen pitches forward to lick delicately at Jared's lips with the tip of his tongue in answer, just a brush along the seam. It turns into a kiss, soft and light and closed-mouthed at first, but Jensen just tastes so fucking good, the smell of him all fresh and sun-warm and sweet. Jared folds one leg under himself and sits up, rocking Jensen back onto his haunches, taking control of the kiss. He holds Jensen's face in his hands, brushes his thumbs under Jensen's smooth-shaven jaw and along the edges of Jensen's collar just to feel his skin. "Missed my good boy," Jared breathes, and Jensen makes a grating sort of whimper in response, all he can produce with the ripped up insides of his throat. He's pushing into Jared's hands, pleading for the attention and the praises with his obedient little body, relaxing as he lets Jared take the lead.
Jared's rough clothes leave faint red marks on Jensen's belly and chest and thighs as he pushes closer, feels his pulse so strong and hot in his own veins as Jensen goes pliant under him. "Lie back," Jared says, one hand firm in the middle of Jensen's chest. Jensen struggles for a second to get his legs out from under himself, scrambling to do what his master tells him, so eager and ready. "Your dick's real hard for me, pup," Jared murmurs, kneeing forward on the couch so he's between Jensen's spread thighs. "Isn't it?"
Jensen nods, eyes wide. His dick twitches and Jared rubs over it with just his palm, letting the blood-heat warm his hand for a second. He feels it swell fatter, the hard ridge of it lengthening as he rubs hard and deliberate. He looks down between them, peers at where the head peeks over his fingers, plump and pink and glistening with the first drops of precome pushing out of the slit. "Want it real bad, huh?"
Jensen just makes another grating whimper, sound forcing its way out, eyelids fluttering. "Such a good boy, you're gonna get it," Jared says, lips pressed to Jensen's ear. "Gonna get your master's cock. So fuckin' big. Gonna split you right open on that dick." He moves Jensen's hand to the fly of his jeans, rubbing it there, letting him feel how fucking hard Jared is, how much cock is gonna get shoved tight up inside Jensen's little puppy butt.
He unzips and pushes his jeans down just enough to pull his underwear over his dick, huge and hard his hands, veins popping out in sharp relief and blood pumping, hot everywhere as Jensen wriggles in front of him, pulling his knees up and letting his legs fall open, wide and slutty on either side of Jared. The soft insides of his thighs are already smeary and shining with lube, his perfect, tight little hole flushed and slicked and waiting. When he sees it, Jared's breath rushes out of him like he got punched. "Did you do that for me, sweet boy? Did you think about your master when you fingered yourself? Fucked yourself open like my perfect, slutty little puppy?" Jared doesn't know where the words are coming from, his dream-words, but they make his pulse rush and his ears ring.
Jensen nods again, breath coming shallower and chest pushing out as he arcs his back up, pumps his hips likes it's totally involuntary. His cock slides wetly under Jared's hand, slippery sluices of precome sliming up Jensen's belly, taut and twitching.
"That's my good boy," Jared breathes against Jensen's mouth, and kisses him deep and dirty, the give of Jensen's plush lips so addicting. Jared presses him back into the couch cushions, and Jensen just writhes under him, clearly desperate. Finally, Jared wraps his hand around Jensen's dick and jacks it hard and slow. Jensen keens a breathy, hoarse sort of sound at the feel of it, more the hitching of his throat and the exhale of air into Jared's hair than anything.
Jared uses his other hand to grab at his own cock, painfully hard and pulsing. He's dripping precome in stringy blurts, so fucking ready to pop just watching Jensen be his perfect, slutty pup, begging for his master with the roll of his body. With a mechanical jerk, he slicks up his dick with his own precome and guides it to Jensen's hole, smears of lube getting on Jared's jeans and underwear and hips as he works in closer.
At first it doesn't even look like he's going to fit. Even though Jensen already loosened himself up, Jared has to work his tight little hole wider and use his fingers to stuff the huge head of his cock in there, spreading Jensen open until the pink skin is thin and stretched. Jensen's panting, head tipped back and mouth open, lips so red and wet. "Good boy," Jared says, shhing and soothing. "Such a good boy, you're gonna take it all in the tiny little hole, aren't you? Gonna be so fucking stuffed full of me, for your master." Jensen's breaths even out some and his tense thighs relax around Jared's hips.
Jared pushes the rest of the way in, head finally popping past Jensen's hole, lube and his own precome squeezing out around it and clinging to Jared's shaft as he sinks deeper, groaning at the pressure, at the heat, at the way Jensen rolls his hips and opens his mouth in a breathy, silent moan. "Oh fuck yeah, puppy, take it," Jared says, and Jensen's thighs spread wider, ass pushing up to meet his long, torturous thrust.
He can't keep it slow after that. His hips start working in earnest, moving one hand up to grip at Jensen's collar, the other wrapping around his hip, pulling him roughly in on every stroke. Jared's eyes are fixed where his cock disappears into Jensen's ass, so obviously strained and barely able to hold him, the slick sound and feel of lube squelching out where he's pounding.
Jensen's noises are rough and harsh when he makes them, but when Jared looks up at his face, it's like he can sense it. He opens his eyes and meets Jared's gaze, the both of them snapping together and feeling it as Jared bottoms out in Jensen's ass over and over, the fiery thrill of it making him shudder all over. Jensen's thighs shake around him, Jensen's heels digging into his back and pulling him in closer, urging him to fuck harder and faster, to fill him up with all the loads Jared can squeeze out. He's strung so tight all over, it's gotta be mere moments until he busts.
"Come on, puppy, come for me. Know you gotta. Gimme that puppy jizz, all mine." And that's all it takes, Jensen blowing his wad just because Jared tells him to, thick strings of it everywhere, wads of it speckling his belly and chest and thighs. He makes a delirious sound, eyes shut tight, whole body rippling with it as Jared rides him through.
"Fuck yeah, do it," Jared says, and works his hips faster, deeper, feels the hot pulse of it in his balls as they draw up tight, the itch in the base of his spine that spreads all over his whole body. Jensen rocks back and forth under Jared with the force of it, clinging with his thighs and trying to push back even though he's shivering all over with orgasm. "Gonna fucking fill you so full of come, pup," he mutters, face right down close to Jensen's. "Gonna flood you with it. Give you so many fuckin' loads it won't all fit in your tight little ass, ooze out everywhere, drip out your used, sloppy hole, all down your thighs and-"
Jared wakes up with a start to a wet choking sound, eyes swimming and hips bucking, everything spinning with disorientation. He comes suddenly before he even realizes what's going on, a hazy burn and rush and sick relief. It takes him a wild moment to parse the fact that Jensen's on all fours over his hips, mouth screwed down to the base of his dick like it's nothing, drinking down the sticky globs of his jizz.
"What the fuck?" Jared starts, jerking backwards towards the headboard, dick popping wet and softening and embarrassingly obvious from between Jensen's lips, a string of spunk snapping back and clinging to Jensen's chin. Jared cups his dick and pulls his legs up, trying to regain some semblance of modesty even with that filthy dream still circling in his head and Jensen's lips red and puffy and come-dirty right in front of him. "What are you doing?" Jensen looks at him, kind of empty and hurt and shuffling backwards on the bed just like a scolded dog, licking at his chin and swallowing slowly. Savoring. Jensen may not be speaking in words, but it's loud and clear what he's saying: that he's grateful to Jared. That he doesn't get what's wrong. This is probably what Jensen's used to. Jared can understand that in his eyes, that he was doing it with purpose.
"God, I'm sorry," Jared says, scrubbing a hand over his face helplessly. "We've got a lot to talk about, and a lot of work to do."
**
THE END.
Author: balefully
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,800
Warnings: Dystopian future. Slavefic. Puppy play. Pretty extreme and ridiculous dirty talk. D/s. I DON'T KNOW. It also has no ending and no middle and is a massive, massive pile of insanity.
Summary: Jared is a loner with a good heart who rescues Jensen, who is being sold on the streets. He does his best to give Jensen what he needs, and ends up with a lot more than he bargained for.
Notes: This is for salt_burn_porn! My prompt was from luvscharlie, and was, "Well, I was expecting bigger, actually." What the fuck did I even think I was doing, trying to write an entire universe for a 24-hour porn challenge, espesh when I wasn't home/able to write for like half of it. I DON'T KNOW. I JUST DON'T. PRETEND IT HAS AN ENDING PLEASE. I also haven't read it over or anything, so let me know about typos/random things that make no sense/the fact that there is no middle and no end and nothing actually works in any coherent way.
In Dream Worlds
The road into the ward is nothing but packed dirt, cracked and stretching out to melt into scrub brush and tumbleweeds for miles on either side. Thick dust clouds everything, stings Jared's eyes and makes them water and squint as he trots towards the smoggy, sickly shadow of buildings in the distance. Seven's hardly breaking a sweat even though the heat bakes everything into a uniform beige. "Good girl," Jared murmurs absently, and pats her neck, carding his fingers through her mane while he sits heavy and steady in the saddle.
He passes the border patrol without any problem, flashing his government-issue ID and checking one of his guns with the arms security unit. The other one is concealed in a highly illegal compartment in the tree of his saddle, and not a soul need know about it unless it's pointed in his face.
The ward streets are always dirty and loud and usually pretty violent; Seven used to be a mess, shying and pitching a fit whenever Jared tried to ride her in for a pick-up. It's been less than a year she's spent with him now, though, and she just slid right into it like she was born to maneuver through the insanity. He takes her inward at least once a week, now, and he could swear she looks forward to it. No accounting for taste.
Jared turns her up a relatively clear alley and starts over to the pick-up site in Precinct G. He only gets as far as D before a roadblock and security unit divert them three blocks West. It wouldn't be too much of a problem to just circle around and take the longer way to G, except that'll put Jared riding straight through the stock yards.
He hates the stock yards.
It's more important to get to the pick-up than to indulge his own whims, though, so he nudges Seven onwards and just tries to keep his eyes fixed on the gridlights on the street corners marking the precincts. But of course Jared can't help it. Never could. His gaze is drawn to the wasting, dirty, empty-eyed slaves chained up in pens and chutes that line every street.
For the dogs and the horses and other animals of the ward, he can run pick-ups. No one can make much money off them, and would rather not waste bullets on putting them down if there are crazy land-owning free men-Jared-who come into the ward just to pick them up and take them to the outskirts. The slaves, though. No one could stage a rescue for a slave, not and live to tell about it. And there's no one in the world could afford to buy all the slaves to set 'em free, neither. Not to mention that'd just be dumping more dough into the pockets of the slave-traders. Giving 'em exactly what they want.
There's a jam by the Precinct G gridlight-ain't that always the way-so Jared pulls Seven over to the water station and swings down so she can have a break while he waits for a security unit to sort out whatever the trouble is. The water station butts up to a stock pen, so Jared can't really look anywhere else but through the splintered slats and into the muddy holding area while Seven drinks.
A pair of green eyes blinks back at him, unfocused and lethargic. Jared's kind of startled at first; didn't expect to see a slave so close-up and face-on like that, just waiting there on the other side of the boards. Jared's real tall but he can't quite see over the into the yard very well, so he climbs back up into the saddle and stands in the stirrups, peering down into the pen.
Green-eyes is staring right back at him. The slave's a guy, probably older than Jared, but then again who fucking knows with what these people go through. Could be any age at all. He's built real nice, got short hair, indeterminate color because he's just the blah shade of grime all over that most people in the ward end up. He shifts while he looks up at Jared, and it's clear he's favoring his right leg, his left arm, and that he's got some pretty bad contusions on his chest and back and belly. Nose looks like it was broken once and badly set. Still, though. He's just beautiful. Makes Jared so fucking mad to see it; this man reduced to chattle when he's a person just like Jared, has those eyes, that mouth. Breaks his fucking heart.
The jam clears right when the slave-trader gets to the pen Green-eyes is in, and the security unit starts rushing people through, so Jared just gives the slave a nod and rides on-he's got work to do.
**
All through the pick-up, those green eyes stay with Jared. The way that slave was watching him. There was something there under the dirt and the broken body and the dull lifeless cast. He's still thinking about him when he's forking over some petty cash, when he's strapping the cart and harness to Seven's saddle, when he's loading in the crates, when he's riding back out to the street, following the gridlights back to Precinct A.
Except, of course, he's gotta detour back through the stock yards. He sees the water station coming up on the left, and this time, a gaggle of the slaves have been herded out into a chute running in front of the pens. They're chained up, collared, shackled, but bumping and jostling amongst themselves. Without even looking for him, Jared's eyes find the green-eyed slave, slumped but still taller than most of the rest. He palms the switch on his saddle compartment-he has a wad of saved-up cash in there. Always brings it with him to the city on pick-ups just in case. Jared's got a fair amount of money saved up; not too much, of course, but enough to make some significant rescues. He doesn't need much in life, and that means more to keep for those who really do need it. Something acidic eats at him unpleasantly-he's gotta do something.
"Hey, Trader!" he calls, and rides Seven right up the gate, cart thunking along the uneven ground behind them. "How about that one?" He points at Green-eyes with a thumb, trying to keep it careless, make for a better haggle.
The slave-trader looks up from branding an older man's ankle. He's missing most of his teeth but he's got a thick, dark head of hair and a scratchy patch of stubble under his slack mouth. "Jensen there'll go for three thousand. Non-negotiable. He's the best I got."
Jared just stares at him, a horrified twist crimping his belly. Three thousand for a human? A human as goddamned pretty as that Jensen? It's shameful, is what it is. All the better for Jared, though. And for Jensen.
"That number too big for you, there, son?" the trader says, laughing with a burble of spit and tobacco juice. He comes over and leans on the fence, face creased with his dim-witted smile.
Jared pulls out his billfold and chucks half of it at the slave-trader, who scrambles after it. He sets his shoulders, narrows his eyes. "Well, I expected bigger, actually," he says coldly, and jerks his head from Jensen to the cart. "I'll take him."
Jensen just blinks back. The trader messes with a tangle of clanky, rusted chains, and pulls the slave out of the chute by the one welded to the metal band on his neck. Jared watches intently while the trader loops the chain through one of the brackets on the side of the cart where the crates are secured, and shoves Jensen into the bed of the cart with a heavy hand.
It's physical effort for Jared to tear his eyes away from the slave and nudge Seven back into the chaos of the street, heading back towards the arms unit to pick up his gun and get border clearance to go home. He can't help looking back whenever he gets a chance.
**
The ride back to Jared's farmhouse in the outskirts is uneventful, considering. The landscape changes from dirty grey to calm green in a smooth gradient the farther away from the ward they get. Jared's modest little farmhouse perches on the lip of a pond that used to be a vast lake, and looks out over flat grassland that Jared tended and shaped into fields and paddocks, perfect for his family of horses and dogs. Most of the animals he's managed to save end up with him here, as much as he tries to find others who'll keep them and treat them right. The land was passed down to him through generations, and while his family hasn't ever been rich, they've always been afforded some semblance of power through the status that comes with still being a landowner in times like these.
Jared does the best he can with what he's got. He built the house himself, just a plain wood cabin; he chopped the logs and shingled the roof and installed insulation, drywall, the appliances he's got. He's handy and likes the soothing burn of hard work and tangible accomplishment, so it was a pleasure. All his money comes from making furniture anyway; might as well make a place to keep some for himself.
The animals all know what's up, used to Jared's weekly pick-ups by now. A couple of the horses are looking skittish, though-of course they can probably smell that there's suddenly another human here, not just beat-down dogs who need a good place to recuperate.
Jared goes through the whole process like it's just another ordinary pick-up day. He takes care of Seven and puts her out in the pasture with One, Two, and Five. The horses get numbers because the stalls have numbers; the dogs don't really have names, either, although Jared refers to them by their defining characteristics in his head and maybe he'll call them "boy" or "girl" or "buddy" every once in a while. Dogs and horses in the wild don't give each other names, and Jared doesn't mess with how nature does things. He's seen a lot of animals come and go, and he's not there to own any of 'em. Just get them back on their feet and give them a job to do if they want it, offer a little structure and comfort. The two dogs he brought back today are in good shape, so he introduces them to the pack right away, no recovery time needed. Everything goes off without a hitch, and Jared's done for the night.
Except, of course, that Jensen is still chained to the cart. He fell asleep on the journey back, and Jared didn't have the heart to wake him. He's up now, peering around the edge of the cart as Jared strides over. When he sees Jared coming, he darts back inside.
Jared climbs in after him with a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters and cuts the chain from the band around Jensen's neck, then the hinge of the band itself so it falls away into Jared's palm. Jensen shifts nervously, so close Jared can feel his hot breath against his arm. "So-" Jared starts, running a dirty hand through his hair, smearing it with sweat. "I guess you better come inside." Jensen's neck is raw-red where the band was, shiny and oozing and dark around the edges like there's gotta be a fungal infection and some rot deep in the welts or something. "I'll get you cleaned up, alright?" It really doesn't look good.
Jensen doesn't move until Jared's out of the cart, and when he does, it's a slow, pained walk. It's not clear what happened to the guy to put him in such bad shape, but Jared can hazard a couple of guesses. Jensen follows one step behind him, head down, hands at his sides. He's wearing some grimy, standard-issue shorts and that's it. They're really more like underwear, worn and clinging to the thick muscles of his thighs and ass. Jared swallows and clears his throat, leading the way into his house. He jerks his thumb at the washroom on the right, actually pretty damn big and with a huge, ancient, double-slipper iron tub smack in the middle. "So I figure you could get clean here? I actually usually use this tub for the dogs, real sorry about that, but I just got a shower in my bathroom and I think you need a good soak before you're feelin' up to much else, am I right?" Jared offers Jensen an easy smile, but Jensen just looks confused and kinda scared. "Do you speak English?" Still nothing. "Understand it at least?" Nothing.
He starts the water running instead, nice and hot but not scalding. There's a showerhead attachment in the middle of the tub on the edge, but he just leaves it for now. Once the tub's full-way more water than he'd ever use with one of the dogs-Jared reaches out real slow to put a hand on Jensen's shoulder, just a gentle guiding touch, nothing heavy or forced. Jensen still flinches though, and shuffles back a little. Jared doesn't let go, just turns Jensen towards the tub and offers his other hand for stability. "C'mon," he coaxes. "Get undressed. I'll go start rustling up something for you in the kitchen, okay? You got towels in the closet and I'll bring you something to wear."
Jensen just stares at him, looking confused again. He looks at the tub, then back and Jared. It's like trying to get one of the pups into the bath, almost. Jared smiles and shakes his head. "I was just trying to give you some dignity if you wanted it. I can help, if you need." Jensen shifts uneasily on his feet, looking at the tub and back at Jared again, then nods, slowly and almost imperceptibly, but Jared's nothing if not observant.Jensen manages to slide the shorts down his legs and shuffle out of them, looking down at the puddle of them on the floor. Jared tries not to stare.
He can't help it, but he handles Jensen like he would one of the dogs-it's the only way he can think of to do it, because Jensen doesn't even want to take his hand. After a second of hesitation, Jared touches his torso just around the waist and leads him gently by the hipbones to the tub.
"Can you lift that leg?" he asks, and is relieved when Jensen manages to. It takes a minute for Jensen to get in the tub, and Jared leads him every step of the way, holding him under the arms to help him ease down into the water. Some sloshes out over the side, but he's used to that. Jensen breathes out noisily, as if the water's hurting him. "Too hot?" Jared asks, but of course, he doesn't get an answer. Not besides Jensen glancing up at him with an unreadable expression.
The water goes gritty fast with all that ward grime. Dust swirls slate gray off Jensen's skin, and underneath, it's surprisingly pale and nice. Jared reaches into the water to help rub it off Jensen's lower back, pushing water in slow strokes up his spine until the dust's washed away. He finds that some of the spots that look like dirt are actually freckles, pale but numerous. When he looks at Jensen's face, his eyes are squeezed shut. He looks just like a little boy in the bath like that. But the way he's so silent and sitting there obediently, knees poking up out of the water, somehow Jared just feels like he's washing a tired, limping, dirty dog.
"Wonder how long it's been since you've been clean," Jared murmurs.
Jensen's chin drops, and Jared puts a soothing hand on his neck, feeling grime and rubbing it away.
This, Jensen responds to, lifting his chin again and breathing deeply in pleasure. Jared grins in spite of everything-the situation, how horrified he is at how anyone could mistreat a fellow human being into such silence-and rubs Jensen's neck slow and deep, leaning in on his knees and kneading his shoulders with both hands. Maybe it's the feeling of getting clean, but he could swear Jensen melts more and more by the minute as he works.
"You liking that?" he asks, and is surprised when Jensen tips his head, rubbing his cheek on Jared's fingers. It feels good, even if it's sorta strange that a person would be nuzzling him like that instead of just nodding.
**
Later that night, after Jensen is clean, dry, doctored up and fed and full dark has fallen over the outskirts, Jared drifts off with the heavy, comforting weight and warmth of Jensen curled at the foot of his bed. Jensen tried to sleep on the floor at first, and only after tireless coaxing would he even get on the bed at all. Jared's going to have to work with him until he'll actually stretch out and sleep under the covers. He wishes he had a bed for Jensen to sleep in on his own, of course, but he figures sharing can't hurt when one's all he's got.
Jensen's breaths pull Jared into sleep, and he dreams vividly, as he often does after an eventful day. In the dream he's riding One, still young and galloping all-out like he used to, back when he was the lone horse at Jared's place. A couple of the dogs are running alongside, and the sky is bright and open and blue like Jared only vaguely remembers it ever being. The farmhouse is just a speck on the horizon at first, but it grows as One gallops and the world seems to shrink around them. The porch comes into clear view and Jared can see the dogs sprawled across it, soaking in the sun and the heat from the toasty floorboards.
He's on foot all of a sudden, as happens in dream worlds, One suddenly gone. Jared walks up the steps to the house, and as he leans to greet one of the pups, he realizes it's Jensen. Jensen healed up good as new, clean and bright-eyed and staring up at Jared with adoration from where he's kneeling on the porch just like one of the dogs. He's got a thick leather collar on, tags jangling, but he's not wearing any clothes at all. He butts his head affectionately against Jared's thigh, makes a gentle, sighing sort of noise. Like he's happy to see his master.
Jared can't help himself-he reaches down and brushes a hand through Jensen's soft hair, golden brown in the sun. He scritches him behind the ears, rubs nice and firm at the base of Jensen's neck where he likes it best, kneading the thick muscle there and around his shoulders. Jensen presses his naked body closer against Jared's legs, leaning and taking deep, slow breaths, eyes closed and mouth slack in pleasure. "C'mon, boy," Jared says, slapping his thigh and going inside, Jensen following on all fours like it's the easiest thing in the world.
Jared flops down on the couch and thwacks the cushion next to him. Jensen clambers up sort of awkwardly from the floor, eyes crinkled in a smile, devoted and hopeful. He's so unabashedly bare, sprawling there and letting Jared stare at him, gaze raking over his body, Jensen just basking in the attention. "God, you're beautiful," Jared says, and it comes out hoarse, a complicated tangle of emotions welling up in his throat. Jensen's body is pretty close to flawless without the scars and bruises and gashes. His muscles twitch and his chest rises and falls with calm breaths. His dick lies half-hard against his thigh, thick and perfect and naked, flushed pretty pink just like Jensen's cheeks and neck. Jared's fingers itch. "C'mere, pup." It just slips out, feels right. Jensen's not his slave; Jensen wants to be his puppy.
Jensen scootches over on the couch, perching on all fours next to Jared. Jared slides his fingers under Jensen's collar, tracing the smooth skin under it-no sign of scars. Jensen shivers, and Jared can see the ripple of muscle all the way down from his neck to his calves. "Miss your master today?"
Jensen pitches forward to lick delicately at Jared's lips with the tip of his tongue in answer, just a brush along the seam. It turns into a kiss, soft and light and closed-mouthed at first, but Jensen just tastes so fucking good, the smell of him all fresh and sun-warm and sweet. Jared folds one leg under himself and sits up, rocking Jensen back onto his haunches, taking control of the kiss. He holds Jensen's face in his hands, brushes his thumbs under Jensen's smooth-shaven jaw and along the edges of Jensen's collar just to feel his skin. "Missed my good boy," Jared breathes, and Jensen makes a grating sort of whimper in response, all he can produce with the ripped up insides of his throat. He's pushing into Jared's hands, pleading for the attention and the praises with his obedient little body, relaxing as he lets Jared take the lead.
Jared's rough clothes leave faint red marks on Jensen's belly and chest and thighs as he pushes closer, feels his pulse so strong and hot in his own veins as Jensen goes pliant under him. "Lie back," Jared says, one hand firm in the middle of Jensen's chest. Jensen struggles for a second to get his legs out from under himself, scrambling to do what his master tells him, so eager and ready. "Your dick's real hard for me, pup," Jared murmurs, kneeing forward on the couch so he's between Jensen's spread thighs. "Isn't it?"
Jensen nods, eyes wide. His dick twitches and Jared rubs over it with just his palm, letting the blood-heat warm his hand for a second. He feels it swell fatter, the hard ridge of it lengthening as he rubs hard and deliberate. He looks down between them, peers at where the head peeks over his fingers, plump and pink and glistening with the first drops of precome pushing out of the slit. "Want it real bad, huh?"
Jensen just makes another grating whimper, sound forcing its way out, eyelids fluttering. "Such a good boy, you're gonna get it," Jared says, lips pressed to Jensen's ear. "Gonna get your master's cock. So fuckin' big. Gonna split you right open on that dick." He moves Jensen's hand to the fly of his jeans, rubbing it there, letting him feel how fucking hard Jared is, how much cock is gonna get shoved tight up inside Jensen's little puppy butt.
He unzips and pushes his jeans down just enough to pull his underwear over his dick, huge and hard his hands, veins popping out in sharp relief and blood pumping, hot everywhere as Jensen wriggles in front of him, pulling his knees up and letting his legs fall open, wide and slutty on either side of Jared. The soft insides of his thighs are already smeary and shining with lube, his perfect, tight little hole flushed and slicked and waiting. When he sees it, Jared's breath rushes out of him like he got punched. "Did you do that for me, sweet boy? Did you think about your master when you fingered yourself? Fucked yourself open like my perfect, slutty little puppy?" Jared doesn't know where the words are coming from, his dream-words, but they make his pulse rush and his ears ring.
Jensen nods again, breath coming shallower and chest pushing out as he arcs his back up, pumps his hips likes it's totally involuntary. His cock slides wetly under Jared's hand, slippery sluices of precome sliming up Jensen's belly, taut and twitching.
"That's my good boy," Jared breathes against Jensen's mouth, and kisses him deep and dirty, the give of Jensen's plush lips so addicting. Jared presses him back into the couch cushions, and Jensen just writhes under him, clearly desperate. Finally, Jared wraps his hand around Jensen's dick and jacks it hard and slow. Jensen keens a breathy, hoarse sort of sound at the feel of it, more the hitching of his throat and the exhale of air into Jared's hair than anything.
Jared uses his other hand to grab at his own cock, painfully hard and pulsing. He's dripping precome in stringy blurts, so fucking ready to pop just watching Jensen be his perfect, slutty pup, begging for his master with the roll of his body. With a mechanical jerk, he slicks up his dick with his own precome and guides it to Jensen's hole, smears of lube getting on Jared's jeans and underwear and hips as he works in closer.
At first it doesn't even look like he's going to fit. Even though Jensen already loosened himself up, Jared has to work his tight little hole wider and use his fingers to stuff the huge head of his cock in there, spreading Jensen open until the pink skin is thin and stretched. Jensen's panting, head tipped back and mouth open, lips so red and wet. "Good boy," Jared says, shhing and soothing. "Such a good boy, you're gonna take it all in the tiny little hole, aren't you? Gonna be so fucking stuffed full of me, for your master." Jensen's breaths even out some and his tense thighs relax around Jared's hips.
Jared pushes the rest of the way in, head finally popping past Jensen's hole, lube and his own precome squeezing out around it and clinging to Jared's shaft as he sinks deeper, groaning at the pressure, at the heat, at the way Jensen rolls his hips and opens his mouth in a breathy, silent moan. "Oh fuck yeah, puppy, take it," Jared says, and Jensen's thighs spread wider, ass pushing up to meet his long, torturous thrust.
He can't keep it slow after that. His hips start working in earnest, moving one hand up to grip at Jensen's collar, the other wrapping around his hip, pulling him roughly in on every stroke. Jared's eyes are fixed where his cock disappears into Jensen's ass, so obviously strained and barely able to hold him, the slick sound and feel of lube squelching out where he's pounding.
Jensen's noises are rough and harsh when he makes them, but when Jared looks up at his face, it's like he can sense it. He opens his eyes and meets Jared's gaze, the both of them snapping together and feeling it as Jared bottoms out in Jensen's ass over and over, the fiery thrill of it making him shudder all over. Jensen's thighs shake around him, Jensen's heels digging into his back and pulling him in closer, urging him to fuck harder and faster, to fill him up with all the loads Jared can squeeze out. He's strung so tight all over, it's gotta be mere moments until he busts.
"Come on, puppy, come for me. Know you gotta. Gimme that puppy jizz, all mine." And that's all it takes, Jensen blowing his wad just because Jared tells him to, thick strings of it everywhere, wads of it speckling his belly and chest and thighs. He makes a delirious sound, eyes shut tight, whole body rippling with it as Jared rides him through.
"Fuck yeah, do it," Jared says, and works his hips faster, deeper, feels the hot pulse of it in his balls as they draw up tight, the itch in the base of his spine that spreads all over his whole body. Jensen rocks back and forth under Jared with the force of it, clinging with his thighs and trying to push back even though he's shivering all over with orgasm. "Gonna fucking fill you so full of come, pup," he mutters, face right down close to Jensen's. "Gonna flood you with it. Give you so many fuckin' loads it won't all fit in your tight little ass, ooze out everywhere, drip out your used, sloppy hole, all down your thighs and-"
Jared wakes up with a start to a wet choking sound, eyes swimming and hips bucking, everything spinning with disorientation. He comes suddenly before he even realizes what's going on, a hazy burn and rush and sick relief. It takes him a wild moment to parse the fact that Jensen's on all fours over his hips, mouth screwed down to the base of his dick like it's nothing, drinking down the sticky globs of his jizz.
"What the fuck?" Jared starts, jerking backwards towards the headboard, dick popping wet and softening and embarrassingly obvious from between Jensen's lips, a string of spunk snapping back and clinging to Jensen's chin. Jared cups his dick and pulls his legs up, trying to regain some semblance of modesty even with that filthy dream still circling in his head and Jensen's lips red and puffy and come-dirty right in front of him. "What are you doing?" Jensen looks at him, kind of empty and hurt and shuffling backwards on the bed just like a scolded dog, licking at his chin and swallowing slowly. Savoring. Jensen may not be speaking in words, but it's loud and clear what he's saying: that he's grateful to Jared. That he doesn't get what's wrong. This is probably what Jensen's used to. Jared can understand that in his eyes, that he was doing it with purpose.
"God, I'm sorry," Jared says, scrubbing a hand over his face helplessly. "We've got a lot to talk about, and a lot of work to do."
**
THE END.