Early Jer & Holden, part 5

[maculategiraffe]

Right: by popular request, here's the first meeting between Jer and Yves. A couple of people mentioned feeling like they'd seen that story before; that's because it's been the subject of a lovely fanfiction vignette by wickhouse2005, who was brave enough to write the scene even in the face of eventual jossing. I do love her version, but, well, here's mine.










In the car on the way to Alix's house-- which was actually Alix and Holden's house now, come to think of it, since Alix had set Holden free and married him-- Argounov said absolutely nothing, which made Jer a little nervous. Not that Argounov was normally terribly chatty with Jer or anything, but total silence meant he was preoccupied with something serious, and considering where they were going, Jer wasn't having too much trouble guessing what. He really hoped nobody at Alix's would piss his master off too badly in the course of the evening. It was going to be unsettling enough, meeting Holden's slave.

Well, maybe not unsettling. Jer was pretty curious about what the kid would be like. He'd only seen Holden and Alix once in the two months since they'd bought Yves-- Argounov had been visiting Alix some, but without bringing Jer along. And on that one occasion, at Argounov's, Holden hadn't said much about the boy. Which was strange in and of itself, since normally you couldn't shut Holden up, and that was on topics way less interesting than the first human being he'd ever owned.

Then again, Holden had spent a lot of the little time they had alone apologizing for not having been able to buy Jer instead. Jer wasn't mad about that, though; he knew how hard they'd tried, just as he'd known from Argounov's first "no" that it was hopeless. The main difference between arguing with a brick wall and arguing with Jer's master about his property was that brick walls didn't have particularly expressive eyebrows.

And it wasn't like the boy Holden had now was any sort of replacement for Jer. Lots of men bought a male slave when they got married. Especially men who liked sucking cock as much as Holden did.

Truth be told, Jer felt pretty sorry for this Yves; he didn't think Holden would be cruel on purpose or anything, but the violent temper and lack of self-control that had gotten Holden into so much trouble as a slave-- even Alix's slave-- would definitely spell trouble for anyone at his mercy. Jer could have held his own; he hoped whoever Holden had bought could do the same. At least Alix would probably make sure the boy got fed.





"I've heard so much about you, Jer," Yves said, lowering his eyes with a subtle but definite show of deference. Jer knew the routine, but was shocked that Yves was pulling it on him. What had Holden told his slave about Jer? Was it possible that he'd ordered him to treat Jer with respect? Jer felt another twinge of pity for the kid, caught up in this weirdness-- though nineteen was plenty old enough for a slave to have gotten used to dealing with complicated situations outside his control. A normal slave, anyway, who wasn't Holden.

Yves wasn't really Jer's type, but he was certainly conventionally attractive: fair and curly-haired, with nice skin, well set off by the green of his tunic, and good bone structure. He wasn't wearing any makeup. Jer guessed that wasn't surprising, considering Holden's attitude towards the stuff.

When Jer didn't say anything-- what did you say? "I've heard you're nineteen and male?"-- Yves lifted clear blue eyes to his face. Jer was surprised, again by his look of unguarded friendliness; his gaze was steady, too, with none of the twitchy, surreptitious glancing that marked a slave uncertain of his master's temper.

Well, maybe the honeymoon wasn't over yet.

The owners were moving, making the polite noises free people made when they visited-- sit down, may I, anything to drink-- and sitting down; Jer moved to kneel before Argounov, watching Yves look to Holden. Holden, already seated, touched his knee, and Yves knelt gracefully-- he'd obviously been well trained-- at his master's booted feet. It was surreal seeing Holden from this angle, in these clothes. For a while, at these visits, it had been Argounov with Jer at his feet and Alix with Holden at hers; that had seemed altogether more natural than the current arrangement, with Alix and Holden on the furniture and Greta and Yves on the floor, with Jer.

The owners talked, and Jer watched Yves. The boy didn't fidget, but he also didn't seem tense or unnaturally stiff, and his eyes rested on the floor in front of him as though he had plenty to occupy his thoughts. When, once, Holden reached down to run his fingers through the sand-colored curls, Yves didn't startle or look up, but a little smile crept onto his face. Jer looked away.




When their owners were seated for dinner, Jer and Yves and Greta got dismissed to the kitchen, where three places had been set for them at the table. There were serving dishes of food in the center of the table, too. Yves served Jer first, then Greta, then himself; then he sat down and started eating first, as if he were the host, even though he was newer to the household than Greta. Greta looked sulky-- but Greta seemed to spend a lot of time looking sulky, so maybe it was unrelated.

"I'm so glad you could come over tonight," said Yves warmly to Jer, adding to the 'host' effect.

"Yeah," said Jer. "Nice to meet you."

Yves smiled, his expression-- what? Hopeful? "I really have heard so much about you. I'd like to get to know you better."

"Oh," said Jer, slightly disconcerted. That was free-person talk; slaves got to know people if their masters chose, and not if they didn't. "Um. Okay."

"I mean," said Yves quickly, and now he did seem somewhat nervous, "unless-- um, you don't want to talk to me. This is probably really weird for you."

"It's okay," said Jer, looking uncomfortably at Greta, who was eating steadily, refusing to look at either of them. He looked back up at Yves' pretty, earnest face, and added, "Must be weird for you, too. Knowing that he'd rather have bought me, if he could."

It was a fairly vicious thing to say, the more so because it was true, and Yves probably knew it. Jer expected the unnerving friendliness to dissipate right away, but Yves just lowered his eyes again, as if submitting to a reprimand from a free person.

"I know," he said, and then lifted his eyes, still clear and apparently unoffended, and added, "He cried, when he told me about you. About your master refusing to sell. It's the only time I've seen him cry, so far."

"Tell him not to waste his tears on me," said Jer, feeling a perverse desire to keep pushing until Yves snapped back. "Frankly, I was more worried about you. I wouldn't have bet Holden could own any toy for this long without smashing it."

"I know, right?" said Greta unexpectedly, and swallowed. "But he's actually pretty nice to Yves."

Yves offered Jer a small, shy smile. "Just hoping it stays that way."

Oh, this wasn't even sporting. It was no fun being a prick when the other person refused to be an asshole.

"I'm glad he treats you all right," he said, surrendering. "He's an okay guy, really."

Yves smiled a little more widely. "He seems-- yeah. I mean, he's been very kind."

"Except when he beats you with his belt," said Greta.

"What?" said Jer, honestly shocked, as Yves' smile faltered. He wouldn't have been surprised to hear Holden had lost his temper and smacked his slave, or wandered off and forgotten about him for a couple of days, but he somehow couldn't imagine Holden practicing such a-- methodical-- cruelty as an actual whipping. And what could this gentle boy have done to earn it?

"No," Yves was saying, confused and, for the first time, a little angry. "I mean-- Greta, why do you have to say it like that? It's not like he does it a lot, he-- " He looked at Jer, as if Jer were the one he had to convince of whatever he was trying to say. "He's only ever done it once."

"And he promised never to do it again, right?" said Greta, still not looking at either of them.

"He would," said Yves, flushed. "I mean, he wouldn't do it again, if I asked him not to. It wasn't a punishment."

Jer nodded, disturbed; several follow-up questions occurred to him, but he finally just said, "Well. None of my business, is it?"

Yves looked like he wanted to say something else, but then, looking unhappy, he didn't. Nobody talked much for the rest of the meal.





At the end of it, as they waited in slightly edged silence to be summoned back by their owners, Holden came into the kitchen. Jer didn't look up at him. Yves did, attentively, poised for orders.

"Hey," said Holden. "Greta, Alix wants you in there."

Greta got up and left without a word.

"Yves," said Holden, "could you go up to your room?"

"Yes, master," said Yves, rising promptly, as Jer registered both the politeness of the request, and the fact that the boy apparently had his own room. Neither of those seemed to square with Jer's idea of Holden as a slave owner, let alone with the new and disturbing fact of the whipping. Neither did the fact that when Yves was on his feet, Holden reached out, took one of Yves' hands in his, and raised it, very gently, to his lips. Yves smiled at him-- the same smile he'd given the floor when Holden had caressed his hair, earlier-- and when Holden had released his hand, bowed his head respectfully before he turned and went out. Holden sat down at the table next to Jer, and Jer looked up into his face.

"What?" said Holden, obviously taken aback. "What's wrong?"

Jer hesitated-- but this was still Holden, after all, nobleman's clothes or not, and he answered bluntly, "You beat him with a belt."

Holden blinked. "Did he say that?"

"Oh, was he not supposed to talk about it?" Jer asked, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "Going to whip him again, for not keeping his mouth shut?"

"Jer," Holden protested. "Hey. Come on. It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" Jer knew he was way out of line-- if Argounov heard him challenging a free citizen like this, he'd be sleeping on his stomach for a month. But if Holden had changed enough already that he'd rat Jer out to his master to be punished-- well, it would be best for Jer to know that sooner rather than later. "You whipped him in a friendly way?"

"Um-- sort of," said Holden, with a weak smile.

Jer waited.

"I was in a really shitty mood--" Holden began. "Don't look at me like that, I wouldn't have hurt him, I wasn't going to, I even told him not to worry, hat I wouldn't. And he was-- not scared, the way we were when he was in a mood, but just-- looking at me, and even trying to touch me--"

Holden's voice was soft, almost wondering, his eyes no longer on Jer's face; after a moment, though, they flicked back to Jer as he resumed, "And then-- he started saying all this stuff about-- anger. How when you're angry, sometimes you just need to hit something. And that he didn't mind, if I whipped him, if it would help me-- feel better. He was-- you don't understand, he was so calm, and reasonable. And when I was-- when I said okay-- I told him I'd stop, if he asked me to. I would have, Jer, I swear. But he didn't ask. He just-- took it. He said-- before I started-- he said that he knew I wouldn't hurt him worse than he could stand."

"I don't get it," said Jer flatly.

"I'm not sure I do, either," said Holden, with the same helpless half-smile. "But-- it all made sense when he said it. He's ridiculously smart, Jer. And he was right. I felt so fucking good, afterwards. I wasn't mad any more. And he wasn't mad at me, either."

"You think he would have told you if he were?" Jer asked irritably. "Most slaves aren't as suicidal as you, you know."

"It wasn't just that he didn't say it." Holden was getting the soft, far-off sound in his voice again. "He-- put his head down in my lap, he put his arms around me. He talked to me. He wasn't all-- quiet and blank, you know, the way you are after you've been-- He was okay."

Jer said, "Or he's a good actor."

"You weren't there," said Holden, with a firmness Jer wasn't sure he'd heard from Holden before. Temper tantrums and belligerence, yes; calm resolve, no. "Did he seem upset about it, when he told you?"

"No," Jer admitted, thinking of Yves' face and voice when he spoke of Holden, as well as how tenderly Holden had kissed his hand-- and then, abruptly as a slammed door, not thinking of any such thing. "Okay-- you're right, I wasn't there. And he's your slave. Just--"

Holden looked up expectantly when he hesitated, and Jer looked away from the familiar dark eyes as he finished awkwardly, "Holden? Just-- take good care of him, yeah?"

"I will," Holden answered seriously. "I think-- I think I'm doing okay. He really seems to like me."

"Yeah?" said Jer. "Thought you said he was smart."

Holden grinned.

"Well, everyone's got a blind spot," he said, and then sobered. "Jer, listen, though-- how are you?"

"I'm fine," said Jer, accepting the change of subject. "You know. He's never been too hard on me. And I think now I kind of remind him of Alix."

"Is that a good thing?" Holden asked, but before Jer could answer, Alix herself came in.

"Hey, Jer," she said quietly.

He looked up at her, knowing she'd come to summon him back to the parlor, and his master; he and Holden had been talking too long. He didn't stand up right away, though, and she came and laid a hand on his shoulder, and he put a hand over hers.

"Jer likes Yves," Holden told her.

Jer raised his eyebrows. "I do?"

"Don't you?"

"Sure," said Jer, amused despite himself. "He seems like a sweet kid."

"He is," said Alix, reaching out with her free hand to smooth Holden's hair, in the same proprietary gesture she'd been using since they were all slaves together. "And I think he's having a civilizing influence on Holden."

"Let's hope so," said Jer, and Alix laughed.

"I miss you, Jer," she said.

He didn't smile back as he answered, "Yeah. Me too."

The three of them were silent for a little while, Alix's hand warm on Jer's shoulder, before Alix said, "We should--"

"Right," said Jer, and got up. Alix kept a hand on his back, briefly, before she turned and led the way from the room.