Fic: A Kept Boy 24/?
Fandom: CWRPS
Pairing: Jeff/Jensen, Jared/Jensen
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Slavefic AU. Language. Dark themes.
Disclaimer: This is in no way a true story.
Word Count: 1,628
AN: Previous parts found here. Banner by the lovely and generous bloodquartz.

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"Oh, thank God." Jeff rushes Jensen as soon as he comes in through the garage door. It's hard for Jensen not to shrink back, but he holds his ground. Jeff holds out the PDA, which is chirping frenetically. "It won't stop. Make it stop."

Jensen takes the device and glances at the screen, bemused. "It just wants to do its scheduled sync." He taps the command through and the beeping stops. Jensen looks at Jeff, who plants both his hands on Jensen's shoulders.

"I could kiss you right now." The profound relief in Jeff's voice makes Jensen tip his head up slightly, half-expecting the promised kiss. But Jeff only swings Jensen around him, giving him a push. "Go upstairs, put on something warm. Bonfire tonight."

Jensen remembers seeing the environmental permit in the piles of stuff for Jeff's office. That explains why the kitchen is empty and the house so quiet. Obedience drives him two steps toward the door before he remembers the PDA in his hand. Jensen turns and holds it out to Jeff.

"Nuh-uh." Jeff steps back, arms in the hands-off position. "That thing is of the devil. You keep it."

Jensen has no idea what he's going to do with Jeff's PDA—especially with as little as he has to do around here—but he tucks it in his pocket anyway. He can figure it out later. Maybe Jeff will sit down with him later, let Jensen show him how it works.

"So...how did things go at Cate's?"

Having been given his instruction, Jensen wasn't expecting Jeff to follow him. He immediately checks his step, slowing for Jeff to pull even with him. "I answered her questions. She wants me to come back. She didn't call?"

Jeff scratches his nose, looking sheepish. "No, she did. I...uh. I just wanted to hear about it from you."

Jensen casts his mind back over the visit, thinking about how to frame it all. "She asked me questions about my old masters." He debates the wisdom of reassuring Jeff that they didn't talk about him, that even if they had, Jensen wouldn't have revealed any confidences. Not that he has any confidences to reveal. "I don't know if my answers pleased her, I tried…"

"Jensen." Jeff stops short in the hallway, tugging at Jensen's sleeve to make him halt too. "I didn't mean… You don't have to tell me the gory details. That's between you and Cate. I just meant…" Jeff spreads his hands, rocking a little from side to side as his voice lightens, turning more jovial. "How did it go? Did you like it? Was it okay?"

"It was fine." Jensen tries not to let his doubt color his tone but he really has no idea of what Jeff's looking to hear. He went. Jeff apparently hadn't pimped him out—not that it would be wrong—and no one had hurt him. Was that the same as 'like'? Hard to say. "She gave me tea," Jensen volunteers finally. "From her own hands. It was really good; I've never tasted one like it."

Jeff looks at him and Jensen knows he's said the wrong thing, disappointed Jeff somehow. He can see it in Jeff's eyes. But the corner of Jeff's mouth pulls up in a crooked little smile and he only says—more gently than Jensen expects, "That's good, Jensen. That's really good."

Jensen averts his eyes to the floor, not sure how to take Jeff's reaction.

Jeff sighs, almost soundless except for the deep stillness of the house, and then he takes Jensen's wrist, pulling on him again. "C'mon. Food's probably ready. Do…? You do have something warm enough to wear, right?" Jeff sounds worried.

"Yes. The stipend you gave me was really generous." Insane is more the word, but Jensen's not about to say that. More than half of it is still sitting in Jensen's household account, despite Jensen's efforts to refund it back to the House. At first, he thought maybe it was that Jeff was going to be just that hard on his clothes—Master Crowe had been like that, ripping things off Jensen whenever it suited him. Then Jensen had thought that Jeff's lifestyle would require him to have that kind of wardrobe and maintenance. But Jeff works from home more often than not and none of the places he's taken Jensen so far have required any particular luxury. So the money just sits there, like an unscratchable itch.

Lately, Jensen's just decided that Jeff is kind of stupid about money. Especially after seeing—amid Jeff's disordered papers—just how much Jeff paid for him. Jensen had barely been worth that much when he was new and virginal. Let alone at thirty and well-used.

Out of some weird sense of modesty—which is just fucking absurd, as far as Jensen's concerned—Jeff insists on staying out in the hallway while Jensen changes. "Just wear something you won't mind getting dirty in," Jeff calls, making Jensen change direction to the hamper, to put on the jeans he wore to the concert.

"So, Cate tells me I need to give you more to do," Jeff says while Jensen hikes on the jeans double-time.

"I'm happy whatever you want me to do." Jensen shucks his button down over his head and reaches for a tee-shirt. He hadn't bought very many, not realizing how much tee-shirt and jeans were the uniform of the household. He might need to tap a little of that household money after all. No sense in making more work for the staff and he doesn't want to embarrass Jeff.

"Yeah, well…Cate's not happy. And she's right. There's no reason you can't have more responsibility. I just wanted to give you some adjustment time." Jeff pauses and Jensen can hear his boot heel scuffing against the baseboard restlessly. "She also thinks you need to see her more than once a week."

Jensen stops with his sweater halfway on, the heavy cotton twisted around his biceps. He knew he hadn't answered her questions correctly. Then, "I'll go as often as you think I should." Jensen pulls his sweater the rest of the way on and sits on the bed's edge to put on sweat socks and sneakers. "I'm dressed."

"Yeah, I know that, Jensen. Just…what do you think about that idea?" Jeff pivots around the doorjamb without lifting his shoulder from it, head tilted. "Was it so horrible that you'd never want to go back? Was it okay? I want to know what you think."

Jensen finishes tying his shoes and then sits up straight, hands on his thighs. "I think I just want to make you happy," he says, willing Jeff to understand. "I think Lady Blanchett—Cate—was very kind to me, even though I couldn't give her the answers she wanted, just as you've been really kind and patient. I think I will do whatever you want, even if I don't understand the reasons why." His palms are sweating. He spreads his hands wider over his leg, not wanting to make so obvious a gesture as to wipe them on his thighs. "I don't know what else you want me to say."

Jeff shakes his head and straightens up, shrugging his shoulders in a 'let's go'. "You don't have to say anything else, Jensen. C'mon. I'm hungry, how about you?"

Surprisingly, Jensen is hungry. He ate breakfast with Jeff, as usual, but—uncertain about what Cate was going to do with him—he'd skipped lunch. Self-consciously, Jensen rubs his stomach, wondering if he's just filled out or if he's starting to get a gut. He's been lax about exercising. He'll have to be more conscientious about it.

"So I was thinking," Jeff says, as they head downstairs and out, "maybe we could try three times a week at first and see how it goes?"

"Okay." Jensen was kind of hoping Jeff would take his arm again—he kind of holds it out, enough to be accessible, but not so much that it's presumptuous—but Jeff doesn't.

"The drive wasn't too awful, was it?"

"No, traffic was good." There are lights on the house and the deck, but after that, the garden quickly descends into darkness. Jensen thinks it's maybe the darkness that gives him the courage to ask, "Jeff?"

"Yeah?"

Away from the house, Jensen can see the vague glow of the bonfire even though the beach is well below the level of the grounds. Against it, Jeff's only a darker shadow, but it's enough to keep Jensen from barreling into him when Jeff draws up short.

"Is…is it Kane? Do you want me to be more like that?" Jensen can't really see himself acting toward Jeff the way Kane does, the casual disrespect, the familiarity, but he's here to be whatever Jeff wants him to be. And if that's what Jeff wants...

Jeff makes a choking noise that becomes coughing that becomes something almost like a laugh. Jeff hunches over, resting his hands on his knees. "Oh, God, Jensen, no." He straightens and his hands light on Jensen's shoulders, firm but not punishing as they knead Jensen like a cat. "I don't think I could take two of him. Believe me, one is more than enough."

Jensen thinks maybe Jeff feels different in the near-absolute dark too, braver, because on of Jeff's hands slinks up to brush gentle across Jensen's face, his hair, in a caress that makes Jensen half-sway into him, longing and confused. Gruffly, Jeff murmurs, "No, Jensen. I don't want you to be anyone other than yourself."