Real Person Fic - CW: Rattling Your Locks [Part 2/5]

[cherie_morte]

Back to Masterpost Ω Back to Part One

PART TWO

"Yo."

Jared jumps at the unexpected voice and looks up to find Genevieve standing in the doorway. Her hair is done in an elegant bun and she's wearing a long dark blue dress that drapes over her frame.

"You look nice," Jared says.

She sticks her tongue out. "I look like a beached whale."

"You look like a lovely beached whale."

She laughs. "I hear you're in need of some new clothes."

Jared feels his face flush, wondering if Jensen actually told her how he ruined his pants the night before. She just rolls her eyes and gestures for someone to follow her in. It looks like a walking full length mirror with arms and legs but then the person carrying it props it against the wall by his door and steps to the side, revealing a small blonde girl.

"No need for modesty between us, buddy," she says. "Jensen doesn't sneeze without getting my advice on it first."

"I could have gone without knowing that," Jared tells her.

"Eh, I think you'll feel differently when you see some of the shiny new outfits I brought for you to try on."

Jared raises an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to get excited about that?"

"Whatever, it would have worked on me." She turns and points to the tiny blonde. "This is Alona. Alona makes all of Jensen's clothing and is now going to make yours as well."

"Jesus," the girl says, looking at him closely. "I'm supposed to make that look small?"

Genevieve snorts. "Just do what you can."

Alona sighs and gestures for Jared to stand and hold his arms out so she can fit him.

"You'll have something ready in time?" Genevieve asks, watching them.

Alona's head sticks out from behind Jared's back, and he can see the glare she's giving Genevieve in the mirror she'd carried in. "Bitch, I'm amazing."

Genevieve holds her hands up in surrender, and Jared shifts his weight from one foot to the other as the seamstress measures his legs. "In time for what?" he asks.

"Ah," says Genevieve wistfully, "I'm afraid you're to be dragged to Jensen's dinner party tomorrow night. Shouldn't require too much work, I think you're just supposed to loom in the background and impress his business partners. It should be boring as balls, but then if I have to suffer through it, why shouldn't you?"

Jared shrugs. He hadn't been about to complain. He's got no right to.



His master summons him earlier than usual that night. Jared finds him fully dressed from work when he enters, but Ackles immediately begins to tug off his tie. Jared sits on the bed because he doesn't know what else to do, and he figures that's where he's going to end up anyway.

First he asks about the fitting and whether the clothes were to Jared's liking, which is a stupid question that Jared answers as judiciously as he can manage. Ackles is still shrugging off his jacket when he moves onto the next subject.

"Genevieve tells me you expressed interest in using the staff library."

Jared looks up and watches his master as he moves through the room, shedding clothes as he goes. "I…only if it's alright with you, sir."

"You like reading?" Ackles asks, pausing in his undressing to watch for Jared's response.

Jared nods.

His eyes don't leave Jared's and his expression doesn't give anything away. "Who taught you to read?"

Jared doesn't know if he's in trouble yet, but he figures he will be once he answers the question. "I had a master once who was a schoolteacher," Jared explains. "Before I was properly trained and too expensive for such masters."

Ackles steps closer, taking a seat by Jared's side on the bed. "He taught you?"

Jared closes his eyes, anticipating a strike. "No, sir. I…I listened."

When the confession isn't followed by sharp pain, Jared opens his eyes. His master looks troubled, but he tries to smile at Jared. It's small and sad and, for some reason Jared can't fathom, it makes him forget for just a second how much he hates this man.

The smile fades as quickly as it had come, and Jared thinks maybe it was just his imagination. His master rises from the bed, walks across his bedroom to a door Jared has yet to see open. He gestures for Jared to come closer, so Jared follows. Once he's at his master's side, Ackles opens the door, revealing a large room full of bookcases, a huge oak desk, and a chess set.

"This is my personal library. It's smaller than the one downstairs, but the books are better. I hardly ever get to use it." He closes the door, and Jared wonders what the point of rubbing that in was. Then his master gives him that weird smile again. "One of us might as well, right?"

Jared thinks he must be misunderstanding. "You want me to…?"

"If you want to, Jared." His voice changes from kind to indifferent. "Anyway, it makes my life easier if you spend more time up here. Means I can find you immediately when I get home without having to send someone after you."

Jared knows instinctively that that has nothing to do with this, but he keeps it to himself. His master must see that he's not convinced, because he shrugs defensively. "Whatever, look, the damn library is here already. It's not like it's costing me anything to let you use it."

"Some people say knowledge makes slaves dangerous," Jared points out. "There are laws against-"

"Yeah, well, laws are pretty stupid sometimes." Ackles shrugs. "If I wanted an idiot, I would have bought an idiot. I bought you. Use the library or don’t, I don't care. But you know where it is now."

"Thank you," Jared says. He's said it a million times to masters, even to this one, but this might well be the first time he actually means it.

His master frowns. "You have nothing to thank me for." He looks away and waves his hand in Jared's direction. "Go back to your room for the night. I've decided I don’t want you here."



Genevieve had not been kidding about the dinner party. From what Jared can tell, the goal of the whole thing is to keep it as uninteresting as possible. He stands with four or five other servers against the wall at the back of the dining room, a few feet behind his master's seat. They all wait on the table, refill glasses when they're empty and clear plates away, but Jared just watches and listens. He's not that kind of servant, even if he would kill for the work just to keep himself somewhat amused.

The conversation is a low murmur. Nobody talks about business or their own personal lives, it's mostly politics and gossip about people Jared obviously doesn't know. Genevieve sits at the head of the table opposite Ackles, occasionally locking eyes with Jared's master and making a brief, playfully exasperated face at him before turning to the woman beside her for more small talk. The food they're served is delicately plated with intricate decorations and carefully assembled formations. Each meal probably cost Ackles more money than Jared's seen in his life, but if the way Genevieve pushes it around on her plate is any indication, all its pretentious airs cannot measure up to 'those fucking amazing cheese things.'

Jared doesn’t really envy the guest anything except for the fact that they chose this. What a waste of free will, he thinks. Not that anyone at the table actually looks unhappy, but Jared can't imagine a single one of them is actually enjoying this slow, painful torture.

After dinner, the guests all break off into small clusters and move into the lounge and sitting rooms. Jared's hopes that he might be left to help clean up from dinner are dashed; Genevieve turns back as she's leaving the room and cocks her head at Jared, indicating that he's supposed to follow. With the barest hint of a sigh, Jared drops the silverware he'd been collecting and does as is expected of him.

And then…more of the same. Jared spends the whole night observing the crowd and waiting for the damn thing to end already. Ackles moves from each small group, pausing to talk to his guests in a detached, formal manner, but he's civil enough. Genevieve trails after him, fluffing up wives and flirting with men and generally attempting to make up for the host's lackluster reception.

Jared wonders if maybe this how they play things. Good cop, bad cop. He's observed his master working a few times now, and he's seen this change that comes into him every time. The mask-that's familiar enough. If there's anything genuine under it, Jared has only ever gotten glimpses so brief he's not convinced they were real. But Ackles is even less personable at times like this. Something new and threatening comes into his eyes, subdued though it may be, and Jared neither likes nor recognizes it. It's strange, having a master who seems to hate his own kind more than he hates Jared.

But callous is what Jensen goes for in business from what Jared can tell. This is just what his master is trying to project and playing Alpha is definitely a part of it. Jensen is incredibly convincing; he's trained himself to walk with an Alpha's gait, hold himself like one, and do all of it as if it comes naturally. Genevieve's sweetness following in the wake of it must only draw more attention to how aloof he was. At any rate, the guest's eyes move to Ackles every so often as they talk, and Jared sees fear and respect in all of their expressions.

Except for one. Jared notices the man about 45 minutes into the socializing. He's on his own for the most part. Instead of joining with groups like the other guests, this man is hanging back in the shadows, fiddling with his phone, and looking terribly annoyed. Jared can't exactly blame him for being bored by the whole night, and it's nice at first to see someone showing how they really feel.

He thinks nothing of it until Ackles walks by, giving the man a stiff nod of acknowledgement. The man smiles warmly, his blue eyes lighting up. As soon as Jared's master has passed, though, his face changes immediately. Jared wouldn't be surprised to see hatred in the man's expression, people this high up on the food chain probably hate each other all the time. Every person in this room laughing and smiling at all this inane rambling probably hates everybody else around them.

It's the brand of hate that sends a shiver down Jared's spine. Fear, yes, just like his master wanted. But the fear is too potent; it's crossed a line. It's the kind of fear and hate that makes a person need to dominate and control something they don't understand. It's the fear and hate that has broken and bruised Jared so many times he's lost count.

And then, in a few blinks of the man's eyes, it's gone again. His face is back to a genial but bored expression as he lies back and checks his phone yet again.

Jared watches him closely after that. He wanders a little through the party, interjecting himself in a few conversations, smiling and laughing all the while. But he always ends up back in the same spot, checking his phone as if he's waiting for something, and he gets edgier as the night progresses.

Jared can't help being curious. It's a suicidal kind of curiosity, but he draws closer when he can, moving inch by inch across the room toward where the man keeps placing himself. It takes Jared almost an hour to get near enough to see him in sharp focus, but by then the party is starting to wind down and Jared can hear more of the conversations he bothers tuning into. If something interesting is going to go down, Jared will have the best seat in the house.

Finally, the man checks his phone and smiles to himself, standing up straighter and looking around the room. His head stops swiveling as soon as his eyes settle on a short man with brown hair, and he waves a hand so the man sees him.

The blonde is a highblood, that much is clear from the slick blue suit he's wearing, the way he holds himself, and the fact that he's been waiting for people to come to him all night. Jared knows his companion is of much lower birth though, not someone who usually garners an invitation to a party like this, just from the way he moves as he rushes to the other man's side.

They embrace once the newcomer has made his way through the crowd, and the blond Jared has been watching all night claps his friend on the shoulder. "Richard," he says fondly. He keeps his voice low-not low enough to be a whisper, that would be too obvious, but low enough that no one who isn't trying could make out their words. "You have some good news for me, I assume?"

Richard frowns and replies in the same hushed tone. "Not, uh, not entirely, boss."

Jared sees the blond man tighten his grip on Richard's shoulder. "What do you mean by that?"

"I couldn't get into the study. That damn woman. Five months pregnant and somehow she's still everywhere. She caught me every time I tried to wander off, threw her arm over my shoulder all friendly, and walked me over to introduce me to some new group. I couldn't duck her, Mr. Roché."

Roché's hands curl into fists, but he keeps himself enough under control that no one but Jared pays them any attention. "You let a pregnant secretary outsmart you?" He huffs out a nasty laugh. "God, but your breed really is inept."

Richard swallows the insult without any sign he heard it. A former slave, Jared would bet his life on it.

"Well, there goes the ace up my sleeve," he mutters. "What are we going to do about Ackles now?"

"He's doing well, sir," Richard says. "I mean, there aren't any holes in the way he's running his company from what I can tell. It seems pretty stable, and he's always been a good partner. Do you really need to-?"

"TradeMark is going to be worth more than Rogue Angel in two years at the rate that little upstart is going," Roché snaps. "Yes, I do need to. He'll make a better partner when I own his company, I assure you."

Richard nods dimly, looking away, and that's when he spots Jared. His eyes widen, and he subtly nudges his boss. Jared freezes up, smiling blankly as Roché turns his attention toward him.

"Oh, hello," the man says cheerfully, looking Jared up and down. He smiles. "You're a pretty thing, aren’t you?"

Jared grins stupidly. He can either be a thing, or he can be a person caught red-handed eavesdropping on men far above his rank. A dead man, essentially. Thing works fine right about now. "Thank you, sir," Jared says, bowing his head.

"Do you think he heard anything?" Richard tries to whisper to his boss.

Roché waves his hand at the other man disinterestedly. "What do they hear?" He laughs, gesturing dismissively in Jared's direction. "What do they care, anyway? One master is the same as another." He gives Jared one last lingering look. "Maybe when I buy Ackles out I'll take this one home with me."

He turns away then, apparently convinced Jared isn't a threat. Richard watches him a few seconds longer, then sighs and fixes his attention back on their conversation. Jared listens to them continue to exchange information for a while longer before they decide there's no point hanging around now that there are fewer guests to hide behind and they might as well leave.

Jared files the information away in the back of his head. In a way, Roché was completely right. Jared has heard a million conversations like the one they'd been having, and he's never bothered to get involved or risked his neck trying to report them. It never made any difference to Jared if his master was about to be in a bad spot, but it was always good to know these things for himself. In case he was about to be sold or thrust into the middle of a business deal. This time, though, this time it feels different. Ackles has not been cruel, and the idea of belonging to yet another man like Roché, one who hates the way Jared is so sure he does, makes him want nothing in the world more than for this party to end so he can go back to his quarters and hide.

The guests take much longer to finally leave than Jared is expecting. The last group of four doesn't go until well after midnight, when even the staff is hiding their yawns behind their hands. He waits respectfully out of the way until his master dismisses the servants, then begins to walk toward the staircase that he thinks will leave him closest to his rooms.

He feels the tug of someone's hand catching his wrist and turns to see Ackles is holding him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks.

Jared looks down at his wrist in his master's grip. "I thought I was excused," he says. "I'm sorry."

Ackles shakes his head. "I could use a little stress relief right about now." He lets go of Jared and gestures to the grand staircase with a nod of his head. "Let's go."

Jared follows a few steps behind until they reach the main entrance to the master suite. He hasn't come in this way yet, he'd been restricted to staff passageways, and the extravagance of the door his master passes through every day on his way to bed takes Jared by surprise.

"Awful, isn't it?"

Jared turns from gaping at the decorations around the entrance and looks at Ackles instead. "Sir?"

"This whole fucking house, but this room in particular. I swear the architect was overcompensating for something."

Jared laughs despite himself. "Why do you live here, then?"

Jensen doesn't reply, just keeps tugging Jared forward. By the time they get to the bedroom, Jared's hand aches a little from being dragged so far, but he doesn't have time to think about the pain. His master pushes him up against the wall and starts kissing his neck.

"Thought they were never going to leave," he mutters, working his mouth down. He breaks away and grabs at the bottom of Jared's brand new button down shirt, fingers so eager to remove it he nearly tears the fabric.

Jared stops him on instinct, trying to save the shirt, then wonders what the hell he was thinking. Ackles laughs though and backs up to give Jared room to take his shirt off carefully. "Yeah, I guess I could wait more than a day to rip the clothes I bought you, huh?"

Something about the playful look in his eyes, or the smile he swears he saw on Jensen's lips yesterday, or the fact that nobody has hit him in over a week makes Jared stupidly bold for the second time in the last minute. "You can't trust him."

Ackles pauses, looking up and meeting Jared's eyes. "Excuse me?"

Jared would punch himself right now if it weren't for his master's eyes on him. "Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"Who can't I trust, Jared?"

Jared looks down at his feet. Might as well just take the consequences at this point. "Your partner. Roché, I think? The blond man with the accent."

"Sebastian?" Jared's master supplies.

"Yes," Jared says, nodding. "Just don't trust him, okay? Because he doesn't mean you well. He wants to buy out your company."

Ackles actually looks speculative. "How could you know that?"

Jared smiles, his back still pressed against the wall. He's painfully aware of how much trouble he could be in if this is reported. Slaves don't accuse free men of anything, especially not rich ones. "It's amazing, the things people will say in front of someone's slave. It's like we can’t even hear."

"Makes good sense." He half turns his back on Jared and mutters to himself. "That sonofabitch has always rubbed me wrong."

Jared blinks through a haze. "You believe me?"

"You're not lying, are you?"

Jared shakes his head. "I wouldn't risk my life on a stupid lie like this."

His master's eyes narrow. "He was expecting you to stay quiet. Not care if I got bought out or not."

"Yes."

"So why are you telling me this?"

Jared wishes he knew. "If your business is successful, you're happier. The happier you are, the easier things go on me."

Ackles looks at him closely. The answer is bullshit, and he must know it. A master doesn't need to be unhappy to make his slave's life hell. But yesterday, when he had offered Jared his library, his reason had been bullshit, too. It had been kindness. For no reason, this man had shown Jared kindness.

His master doesn't call him out on lying. Instead he thanks Jared in a businesslike tone and when Jared remains quiet, he adds, "You know what my name is?"

"Yes, Master. Jensen Ackles."

"Jensen," says Jared's master. "Use it. Don't-that doesn't mean I'm not your master, so don't you forget it."

"I can't ever forget that," Jared says quietly.

Jensen manages to smile and frown at the same time. "Okay, good. But. But don't call me it anymore."

"Yes, Ma-" Jared falters, tripping over the name, "Sir. Mr…" His master-Jensen-raises an eyebrow at him, until finally Jared manages to say, "Jensen."

"Where were we?" Jensen asks, his fingers tangling in Jared's shirt again. Jensen tosses it aside once it's off and looks him up and down. Then he does the last thing Jared is expecting-he sinks to his knees and frees Jared's cock in seconds, deft fingers working greedily at the buttons and zippers.

He pulls Jared's pants down in one quick motion, exposing Jared completely, and Jared realizes with a shock that he's been here for several days and this is the first time he's been completely naked in front of his master. Jensen has hardly even touched him yet, has still not asked for his knot, and now he's about to…return the blowjob Jared gave him two nights ago?

Jared hears a soft murmur as Jensen reaches out and brushes a finger along the base of his cock, where his knot is swelling up. No one except Omegas have ever attempted to suck Jared off before. It's not like his masters would get much out of it, and Jared is a lot to take. Even the Omegas have never been horribly enthusiastic about it; usually they'd tried it once or twice and never bothered again.

But Jensen's touch is soft, and when Jared looks down at him, his expression is nearly reverent.

"So beautiful," Jensen mumbles. Jared doesn't know if he's talking to his knot or to him, but he stays quiet either way. "Want you so bad."

Omega desperation isn't new to Jared, but Jensen's brand of it-this mix between virulent desire and inexplicable restraint-is. When he gets back to his room every night, he feels overwhelming relief that Jensen hasn't made him knot yet, but while the man is in front of him, looking and smelling like this, it's torture, and Jared feels like he must be doing something wrong if Jensen still doesn't want him.

"Jensen, I can-I've knotted Omegas before. I'm good at it."

Jensen presses his face against Jared's thigh, taking a deep breath and holding on tight. He shakes his head. "Can't. Can't do that. Don't make me."

Jared reaches down, stroking a hand into Jensen's hair until his master looks up at him. "I can't make you do anything," he reminds him.

That makes Jensen smile brightly, like he's a kid and he's just been told it's Christmas. "No, you can’t. You can't make me."

"I just want to please you," he says.

Jensen's expression dims. "No you don't."

"It's my job."

"Closer to the truth, at least," Jensen says, almost laughing under his breath. "No reason you should want to please me, I guess." He turns his attention back to Jared's dick. "Mmm, but I'm gonna make you feel so good."

He licks the base first, as if tasting Jared's knot will somehow satisfy the urge Jared knows must be aching between his legs. It's not satisfying Jared-all Jared wants now is to slide into a tight, wet Omega body and tear into it, but when Jensen's mouth finally wraps around the head of his cock, slowly working farther and farther down the length of him, Jared nearly forgets that this is not enough.

To say it's the best blowjob of Jared's life is to grossly underrate this blowjob. Jared hasn't had many and few of them have ever been particularly skillful, but even the fact that Jensen is his master is failing to make this feel anything short of amazing.

Jensen's enthusiasm is not all Omega, either-this is something completely its own. Maybe this is the ambition that made him so successful in business. Because Jared's knot cannot physically fit into anyone's mouth, but the tricks Jensen has apparently invented to get around that problem are beyond comprehension.

And Jensen seems to love it. More than he'd enjoyed Jared's mouth, and Jared is not exactly a novice when it comes to sucking dick. Jared doesn't know if he's supposed to come or if this is just warm up to something else, to Jensen finally getting his knot maybe, but it needs to slow down before Jared can't help losing it. Alpha recovery time is not exactly impressive considering how much they come every time, so if Jensen wants anything else to happen tonight, he is going to have to slow the fuck down.

"Mast-Jensen," Jared gasps, trying to pull Jensen's head back and away from him. "Please, I'm gonna-I'm sorry, I can't help it much longer."

"Oh god, do it," Jensen says. "Fuck. Cover me with it."

He slips his face back to the base of Jared's dick, tongue fucking at the knot there and then licks his way to Jared's balls, sucking lightly on them. Jared's legs are shaking from how good it is, and Jensen gave him permission.

He cries out with one last warning, and that makes Jensen return his mouth to the tip of Jared's cock. He catches the first wave of come on his tongue, pulls away without coughing or choking on it, and lets the rest fall onto his face, in his hair. There's enough that by the time Jensen pulls back to look up at Jared and Jared is beginning to feel his knot loosen, his master's face is dripping with his slick.

He gets to his feet slowly.

"I'll clean it," Jared says, reaching out to brush some of the mess off Jensen's cheek.

Jensen catches his hand, stopping him, then turns his face away as if he's embarrassed. "No, I-I want it. I'll clean it when-you're excused, okay?"

Jared nods and leaves.



Jared wakes up with fingers playing gently over his ribs and realizes he must have dozed off. He should leave soon, get to bed before he does something stupid, like fall asleep for the night in his master's bed without permission. He cracks an eye open and sees Jensen sitting up, staring intensely at the scar he's touching.

"Hey," he says.

Jensen jolts, looking up surprised. And sad. "Hey."

"What's wrong?" Jared asks.

He frowns, shakes his head, and lifts his fingers away from Jared's skin. "It's terrible," he says.

"Nah," Jared replies. "It's been ages. Doesn’t hurt anymore."

"That someone-" His eyes scan over the rest of Jared's chest and he sighs. "That people did this to you. They had no right."

"They had every right." Jared knows his lines. He didn't always, but by now they've been burnt, cut, beaten into his skin so he won't forget. "I was disobedient."

"No," Jensen insists, his tone harsh. "Nobody has the right to do this."

Jared doesn't reply, just lies there and lets Jensen look him over. He lowers his head, pressing a soft kiss to the scar tissue, and Jared laughs. "It's gonna be a long night if you plan to do that with all of them."

"It's not funny," Jensen replies.

As if Jared doesn't know that. He's the one with so many slices in his back he doesn't think there's any unbroken skin left.

"You shouldn't be here," Jensen says after a long spell of silence. "I shouldn't have…"

Jared damn near holds his breath. He remembers what Genevieve said about Jensen freeing him and silently begs. Please, please, please free me.

Jensen doesn't pick up his train of thought. He just moves on to ghosting his fingers over the next scar. Jared recoils from the touch, from the unwelcome reminder that it's there. "Not that one. Please not that one."

Jensen's hand pulls back immediately, but he must stop to read the letters burnt into Jared's skin, because a moment letter he asks, "Miner?"

"Rachel Miner. She was my master."

"Must not have been a very good one," Jensen says, touching the mark again.

As if a good one ever existed. "I love and respect all of my masters."

"You don't have to lie to me, Jared. I know what owning a slave makes me." He gives Jared a sorry look. "I know you don't like this. I don't need you to pretend to. Just be honest."

Jared swallows hard. "She was my worst master. It's stiff competition, but I think she was worst."

"What did she do? Other than the brand, I mean."

"It was a long time ago." Jared doesn't let his tone get as cool as he wants to, so maybe it's his own fault that Jensen doesn't take the hint.

"What did she do?" he asks again.

Jared shrugs, trying to pretend this is okay. Keep his voice level and not let his master hear how much he hates him for bringing this up. "She was just sick. She had two Alphas, me and this other guy, and she used us to punish the rest of the slaves when they made mistakes. I mean, she used his knot to-" Jared breaks off. "I refused, so she had him beat me until I was damn near dead. She made me watch him do that to them. And some of them were Omegas. It was so hard not to force them."

"But you didn't?" Jensen asks. Jared doesn’t miss how he moves back on the mattress, putting a little more space between them. "You didn't, right?"

He shakes his head. "It was hard, but I didn't."

"Why not?" Jensen seems genuinely disbelieving. "You didn't like it?"

Jared sits up, glaring. He doesn't care that this is his master, not right now. He expected better from Jensen, though maybe the joke there is really on him. "That's a terrible thing to ask."

Jensen blinks a few times and nods, but he doesn't look as sorry as he has over things Jared wouldn't even have thought to be insulted by. "You're an Alpha."

"That doesn't mean I'm a rapist," Jared snaps.

His master doesn't reply, and Jared realizes he got too comfortable, pushed his master's kindness too far. He's going to be killed for that tone he just took.

Against every instinct, Jared humbles himself. "I'm sorry, Master, I was completely out of line."

"You weren't. I guess you're right. I just never realized before that…" Jensen bites his bottom lip. "I shouldn't have pushed you to answer."

Jared wants to agree. He wants to tell Jensen it's not any of his business and that admitting he was wrong won't change the nightmares Jared has coming thanks to this trip down memory lane. But he's already said far more than he should, so he keeps his mouth shut and his face blank.

Jensen sits up on his side of the bed and looks at Jared over his shoulder. "I'm going to take a shower. You don't have to be here when I get out."

Jared waits until the door closes to leave. He doesn't really want to see any more of his master tonight.



"Sit."

Jared looks around, confused by the order. When he'd been summoned to the main dining room at the master's dinner hour, he'd assumed it meant there would be yet another droning banquet for him to stand through. Instead there's only one other place set at the table, and Jensen can't possibly be saying it's supposed to be Jared's. That's a whole goddamn lobster on the plate.

"Master?"

"I thought I told you not to call me that," Jensen says, looking stern, but not threatening.

Jared nods but doesn't take a step closer. "I'm sorry. Jensen."

"Come on," his master says, putting on a slight whine. "I can't eat until everyone is seated, and I'm starving."

"Everyone?" Jared asks.

"Well, I guess the rule is technically more than half," Jensen mutters to himself, and then he looks up at Jared, smiling ruefully. "But since it's just the two of us, you gotta sit to accomplish more than half. Unless we cut off one of your limbs and place it at the table, but I'm not quite that hungry. Yet."

Jared hesitates a few seconds longer, so Jensen sighs, taking his napkin off his lap and placing it on the table. "Okay, fine. Fine. It hasn’t been so long that I've forgotten how to do this."

Jensen walks around to the empty setting and pulls out the chair. "Have dinner with me?"

"Is that an order or a kindly request?" Jared says, hoping to recover from how stupidly long this took to sink in.

Jensen huffs a laugh. He points to the chair. "Jared, you're having dinner with me."

"Oh, okay," Jared says, taking the seat as if this is totally normal and he's not completely thrown off by the attention. There's no one around to see them, so he doesn't get who Jensen is trying to impress. "In that case, I'll have the lobster."

Jensen pushes the seat in behind Jared and is still shaking his head with a smile on his face as he sits and puts the napkin back where it'd been before. "So you're a smartass, then? Good to know."

"Only when-" I'm allowed to be "-the occasion calls for it."

"My father would have said the occasion never calls for it," Jensen replies.

Jared bows his head. "I'm sorry, Master. I won't do it again."

"My father was kind of an idiot," Jensen replies. When Jared looks up at him, he's grinning mischievously, and Jared realizes he'd scared him on purpose, the bastard.

"Couldn't have been much worse than his son," Jared says, hoping the lightness in his tone will make it clear he's joking. It's a big risk, even with his master's apparently good mood.

Both of Jensen's eyebrows rise in shock, but to Jared's relief he starts laughing again. Once he's calmed a little, he brings his glass of wine up to his lips, maybe trying to hide the last remnants of amusement behind it, and takes a long sip. Jared does the same, nearly moaning at the taste of the dark red wine.

"Good, right?" Jensen asks, and Jared realizes he's been watching him the whole time.

He swallows and smiles for his master's benefit. It's not like the man needs a slave to tell him if his wine is good or not, but that's not the point. "Delicious."

"Try the lobster," Jensen insists.

Jared was never going to refuse that one. Jensen starts eating at the same time Jared does, and for a long few minutes, there's no sound except for the silverware scraping on the plate. Finally, Jared's master clears his throat and awkwardly says, "How was your day?"

Jared pauses mid-chew and looks up from his meal. "I…good?" he says, keeping brief so he doesn't put his foot in his mouth.

"Good!" Jensen replies. "That's good."

"How about you?" Jared asks. "Did you do anything interesting?"

Jensen licks his lips, takes another long draught from his glass, and then inhales deeply, letting it out before saying, "It was fine."

Jared nods, and Jensen stares back, apparently unsure of how to continue. He looks over his master's face for a few moments, trying to decide if he should vocalize what he's thinking.

"You can talk to me like a person," Jared finally says. "I promise I can follow."

"What?"

"You don't have to get so nervous. You're over thinking it. Just talk. About your day or something."

Jensen bristles a little, but Jared knows he must be at least a little right from the way the man ducks his head. "I know how to talk to people."

"I didn't say you didn't," says Jared. "You don't know how to talk to slaves. That's not a bad thing."

"I just don't want to-" He laughs brokenly. "No, I don't. Though I'm not honestly great at dinner conversation with anyone, if that makes it any better."

Jared smiles out of one side of his mouth. It's a little endearing, watching this guy trip over himself, trying not to offend Jared. Jared is usually the one feeling like this. "Why did you ask me here, then?"

"I wanted to apologize," Jensen says, slow and steady, like the words are unfamiliar to him. "I was rude yesterday. I don't think I realized how much so until after. You didn't have to tell me those things, but I was curious, I didn't think about what it would be like for you. I forgot you'd take my insistence as a command. I'm sorry. I'm not used to having people…I'm sorry."

That comes as more of a surprised to Jared than the lobster. He feels his mouth gaping a little and closes it, opening it again to dismiss the apology, because he thinks that's what's expected of him.

Jensen doesn't give him the chance. "I would have hated you for it if our positions had been reversed. I want you to know that you never have to tell me anything that you don't want to. Not about your masters or about yourself or anything. Even if I ask, you just don't answer if you don't want to, okay? That's an order."

Jared nods, looking down at the table. "You could have just said that," he tells Jensen. "Not that I don't appreciate the 'I'm sorry' lobster, but I promise saying it is enough. Dinner doesn't make me feel any better about last night. The apology might."

"Didn't have better plans, anyway." Jensen frowns. "Misha and Genevieve went to a movie," he explains. "I was going to ask them to come for dinner. I didn't want to be bored."

Lonely, Jared would bet. Maybe that's the price he has to pay for being so callous to everyone. He has to resort to buying a pleasure slave and asking him to dinner just for a little conversation. Jared can't even believe it, but he feels a little sorry for the guy.

"Anyway, that's not important. Tell me about your day. Did you do anything?" Jensen makes a face as soon as he's finished asking, as if he can't believe the words came out of his mouth, and he amends, "Interesting, I mean. Did you do anything interesting?"

But his instinct had been right this time. Jared's life isn’t exactly the most thrilling. He waits around all day to be called on. "I went to the gym?" Jared offers. "And played some chess."

"You play chess?" Jensen asks. "With who?"

"By myself," Jared admits. "I always win."

Jensen smiles. "Who taught you? The same master who taught you to read?"

He shakes his head. "An old man," Jared says. "Different master."

Jensen looks like he's about to ask a question, but he stops himself. Jared has a feeling he made the right call. He doesn't exactly feel up to talking to Jensen about his masters right now. Or ever again, if possible.

"I play chess," Jensen says quietly. "We should, I mean if you want to, play sometime. Maybe."

The poor guy really does suck at dinner conversation. Jared manages to resist laughing by using the wine glass trick he learned from Jensen earlier. He nods as he swallows and puts the glass back down. "Sounds good to me."

"Cool. Great. So. Um. Anything else?"

"Not really," Jared says. "How about you? I'm sure you must have done something worth discussing."

Jensen laughs, shaking his head. "I never do anything worth discussing," he says, his eyes glinting playfully when he meets Jared's. "I had a conference call. For four goddamn hours."

"No wonder that's your second glass of wine."

Jensen nearly snorts, finishing off the glass and pouring a third. "Yeah, I'll say."

Jared polishes his first off and is about to ask if he can have another when Jensen reaches for his glass and refills it for him. Jared swirls the liquid in it a few times, watching it lick the rim of the glass, then takes a sip and puzzles over the information Jensen just gave him.

"It's Saturday," he finally says. "Why were you on a conference call on a Saturday?"

"My fabulous life," Jensen mutters.

He takes his glass and looks like he's about to chug the whole thing, so Jared seizes forward and puts his hand over Jensen's. "That’s too good to swallow all at once."

Jensen looks at Jared sharply over the glass, so Jared lets go and pulls back.

"I guess you're right," his master finally admits, sighing and putting down the glass as he does so.

Jared relaxes a bit and tries to distract Jensen. "What was the call about? I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

"The star of one of our movies has decided she deserves more money."

"Does she?"

Jensen laughs. "Are you asking for my personal or profession opinion?"

"Both," Jared answers. Anything that will keep the conversation flowing.

"On the record, she's completely out of line."

"Uh huh," Jared says, pausing to butter a piece of lobster. "Off the record?"

"Good lord," Jensen says, "poor Danneel is too good to be in that colostomy bag of a film, they should be kissing her goddamn feet for even considering it."

"Danneel Harris?" Jared asks excitedly. "She's huge!"

"Yeah," Jensen says, looking pleasantly surprised. "You a fan?"

Jared's cheeks burn hot and he looks down at the table. "I mean, not really. I've never seen-"

"You've never seen one of her movies? She's incredible." Jensen grins. "I'm biased. I discovered her, in a manner of speaking. But the girl has chops. And they're seriously wasted on this shitty horror movie sequel. She could be off giving a damn Oscar-worthy performance and they want to underpay her for screaming and delivering cheesy lines and showing off her tits."

Jensen stabs his lobster a little harder than the poor thing probably deserves, and Jared shrugs. "So why don't you just pay her more?"

"That's what I said." Jensen rolls his eyes. "My business partners all feel that I should use my personal influence to convince her to sign at the proposed price. She's already only even thinking about doing this because I asked, you know?"

Jared nods.

"Anyway, who wants their ex-boyfriend calling them all the time asking for favors?"

Jared nearly spits out his wine. "You dated Danneel Harris?"

"For a guy who's never seen one of her movies, you sure seem to get excited about her." Jensen is laughing, but Jared almost thinks he sounds jealous. Who of, Jared's not sure.

He sets his silverware down and rubs the back of his neck. "Most of my masters haven't exactly let me use their libraries," he says. "But I always read what I could. Just to stay in practice, I guess. Top two things people leave lying around: newspapers and gossip rags."

"Huh," Jensen says, tilting his head a bit. "I guess that makes sense."

"Yeah, so I know pretty much everything about why people are famous and how their love lives are going even though I haven't seen their movies or heard their music or any of that stuff."

A shadow passes over Jensen's face, and Jared realizes how stupid it was to say that. Those magazines say horrible things about him.

"Not that I think it's all true or anything. I know a lot of it is-"

"Some of it's true," Jensen says sourly. "All of it's exaggerated."

"So is it true that she's an-?" Jared stops, remembering that his master is not exactly the proudest of Omegas, but Jensen smirks across the table, looking a little smug.

"Between you and me? Definitely true."

"Wow, that is so cool."

Jensen laughs. "It's kind of cool. She's still the only female Alpha I've ever met or even heard of."

"I wish I could meet her," Jared says, sounding like a stupid little boy and knowing it and still not sure how to help himself.

Jensen smiles warmly. "I don't see why you shouldn't. She comes to visit me pretty often." He holds a hand up in warning. "But you can't get all embarrassing and start squealing over her."

Jared nods. "I have lots of restraint."

"That sounds kinky," Jensen replies, wiggling his eyebrows.

By now, Jared has finished his dinner and three glasses of wine besides, and he's lost count of how many his master has had. He's been too distracted talking to Jensen instead of focusing on every little detail, which is new for him. And kind of nice. But mostly scary.

"You have to see one of her movies before then, though," Jensen continues after calling for the cooks to bring dessert. "So you at least know what you're so excited about. What kind of movies do you like?"

Jared shakes his head. "I don't know. Whatever you prefer."

"Nah, come on," Jensen says. His voice has picked up now that they're in territory he's familiar with and (Jared assumes) passionate about, and Jared really wishes he had a better answer. "I'm seriously asking. I gotta pick something you like!"

"I actually don't know." Jared looks at the slice of chocolate cake on his dish and thanks the server as she sets it down. "It's not just Danneel's movies I've never seen. I've never seen one."

Jensen stares at him for a long minute, then averts his eyes. "God, I'm sorry. I should have realized-"

"Please don't start doing that," Jared says. "We were having a good conversation."

Jensen chews on his lip and gives Jared a tentative smile. "I have a movie theatre."

"I'd imagine you own a lot of movie theatres," Jared replies.

"No, I mean, here. In the house. I have a theatre. We could watch one. Hell, if you're interested, you can watch as many as you want. But tonight, we should go see a movie."

Jared nods. He wants that very much. Not that he'd have a choice if he didn't, but he's always wanted to see a real movie on a real screen, and he's not really ready to call it a night yet anyway. He's almost enjoying his master's company.

"Good, yeah," Jensen says, his smile widening. "Finish that fast so we can go."

"What about yours?" Jared asks, his cheeks stuffed with chocolate.

Jensen shakes his head and pushes the plate away. "I'm ready now."

Jared swallows what he has in his mouth, then slides his own plate to signify that he can go. Jensen does the last thing Jared ever expected-he seizes one of Jared's hands and immediately begins to tug him up and out of the room. Jared follows, sparing one last look for the cake sitting forlornly on the tabletop.

Jensen laughs as they're crossing out of the dining room. "You can have another slice tomorrow," he promises. "You can eat the whole rest of the damn cake if you want."

Jared grins, turning forward to look at Jensen. "I'm holding you to that. Don't think I won’t."

Jensen just rolls his eyes and faces away from Jared so he can focus as he navigates him up a staircase, across a hallway, and into a wing of the house Jared's never been in.

When they get to the theatre, it's just like Jared always imagined it would be, only instead of rows and rows of chairs, there's just one big couch. Three entire walls of the room are taken up by cases of movies. There must be at least a thousand, but Jensen doesn't get lost in it. He goes immediately to the wall left of the screen and stands on his toes to pull one out.

"This is my favorite," he says, holding the DVD up. On the cover, two scruff-faced cowboys stare each other down. "I think I've seen it a million times."

"6 Bells 'Til Dawn?" Jared reads. "Did your company make it?"

Jensen barks out a 'hah' and walks to the front of the room to start setting up the equipment. "My company makes money, not decent cinema."

"Oh," Jared says awkwardly. "What's it about?"

"You're about to see, aren’t you?" Jensen waves a hand at him. "Sit, sit."

Jared does as he's told, fluffing up the cushion on the side of the couch he's chosen. "Is Danneel in it?"

Jensen shakes his head, pressing a few more buttons before straightening up. "This is about 40 years before her time," he says.

He goes across the room to a small fridge Jared hadn't even noticed and pulls out two beers. Jared's already feeling a little light headed from the wine-it's not often a master lets him drink, let alone drink his fill-but he shrugs and takes it, perfectly content.

"A lot of people don't like this one so much. It gets left off all the classic lists because it's not gritty enough and the West wasn't accurately represented or whatever, but movies are about storytelling, right? Man, if you're not crying by the end of this, you have no heart."

Jared is a little dubious about how much a cowboy movie can really get to him, but sure enough, he's wiping at his eyes with his palms as the credits come up.

"Don't even try and pretend," Jensen is saying as he reaches for the lamp on the end table next to him. "I heard your ass snuffling through the last hour."

They've both ended up on opposite sides of the couch, their feet propped up and tangled together. There's an empty case of beer by their feet from halfway through the movie when Jensen got tired of getting up every time one of them finished their drink and just brought the whole pack. It's weirdly intimate, and Jared is very comfortable and extremely convinced he likes movies and maybe starting to feel a little drunk.

"Allergies," Jared says, pulling his hands down so what he was doing won't be too obvious. "Just, you know. Something in my eye."

"Uh huh," Jensen says, smirking. "So you liked it?"

"Yeah," Jared admits. "I really liked it."

Jensen's smirk turns into a huge smile, and Jared notices that the skin next to his eyes crinkles up when he does that. It looks good, and not in the way everything looks good on Jensen.

"We could watch another one," Jensen offers shyly. "If you're not too tired."

"I'd like that."

Jensen watches him like he's trying to decide if Jared means that or if he's just saying it. Jared doesn't even really know anymore.

"Can Danneel be in this one?"

Jensen grins, finally satisfied Jared is being genuine. "You've got a crush, huh?"

"Nah," Jared says. "I've just never seen an Alpha who wasn't a slave. I'm intrigued."

"Hmm," Jensen says, but he puts the first movie right where he got it from and then moves to the back wall, grabbing something off there. "I think I'm going with The Claimed," he says. "It's not the best she's ever been in, but her performance is stellar. And I think we're too many beers in to be intellectually prepared to handle Last Ride of the Purple Sage."

"We can watch it another time?"

Jensen's smile looks warm in the dim light, and Jared thinks it would probably taste really good. "Whenever you want."

This movie is nowhere near as engaging as the first one had been, but Danneel is enchanting as advertised and even more gorgeous moving than she always looks in photos. By the time it's done though, Jared is getting tired, or at least that's what he thinks until Jensen turns it off and puts on the lights and they both stumble to their feet, knocking around the bottles of beer littering the ground.

Jared finds himself standing just a foot away from where Jensen is, looking down at him, and he's not sure who moves first, but they end up kissing, hot and hungry, damn near desperate. There's no coordination, but it doesn't fucking matter. Jensen pulls Jared forward and walks backward out of the room, stopping to shove him against the wall in the hallway.

"There's a guest room," he says, kissing his way to Jared's neck. "Two doors over."

"Which way?" Jared asks, grinding forward when Jensen's hand moves low to cup his crotch.

Jensen stops kissing him and takes his hand again, pulling him left. The door opens and closes with little ceremony, Jensen pausing to take his shirt off as he shuts it. Jared catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror and laughs at the red flush on his cheeks. He's had one too many for sure, but not so much that he isn't horrifyingly aware that he wants whatever is about to happen.

Jensen steps up to him again, and Jared puts a hand on his bare chest, focusing his swimming vision on the bridge of freckles over Jensen's nose. Jensen stares back, moving a hand through Jared's hair.

"Do you like getting fucked?" Jensen asks.

Jared has no idea what he likes. He's never really been able to like anything.

"Yeah," he says, because he thinks he'll probably enjoy anything Jensen does to him right now.

Jensen grins, pushing him a few steps until the back of his legs hit the bed. "Wanna fuck you so bad," he murmurs, mouth grazing over Jared's shoulder.

Jensen makes good on that, but not until after he's taken the time to open Jared up, get him good and ready for what's coming. By the time Jensen is inside of him, Jared's knot is a thick, tight ache between his legs, and Jensen is actually going out of his way to make it as good for Jared as it is for him. He listens for the hitches in Jared's breath and pushes in just the same way but with more force, until Jared is crying out. Begging for it. He forgot sex could be this good. It's been nearly a decade since Jared did something like this just because he felt like it.

Jensen hardly has to touch him before Jared starts coming, but he keeps stroking Jared through it, muttering filth about wanting to feel Jared's knot loosen against his palm.

He pulls out of Jared when he finishes, rolling to his side on the bed. They both stare up at the ceiling quietly, and Jared can't help wondering if this is what normal people experience after a successful first date-full and a little buzzed and fucked so good they can't feel their limbs.

Jensen turns over, kissing Jared again. He ducks his head to take a long breath and moans when he catches Jared's scent. "Good," he says tiredly.

"Yeah," Jared whispers.

"You can stay here," Jensen says. "Stay here. You don't have to go back down to those slave rooms. I never should have put you there to begin with."

"Well, I am your-"

Jensen shuts him up with a kiss, then disappoints Jared by rising from the bed. "You stay here," he says again, but cooler this time. "It's a good room." He nods, but Jared notes that the easiness that has been in his face for the last few hours is suddenly gone. He's back to looking and sounding like Jared's master, the businessman, and Jared had almost forgotten that's who he is. A pretty idiotic thing for Jared to lose sight of. "Goodnight, Jared. Thanks for…"

"You too," Jared agrees, watching Jensen leave.

When the door closes behind his master, Jared can't help feeling a little lonely. The soft mattress and feathered pillows are a pretty great consolation prize, though. He falls asleep feeling better than he has in years.

ON TO PART THREE
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