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Brave Submission	By : SeasonofSons Category: S through Z > Sons of Anarchy Views: 3094 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy or any characters herein. I make no money from this writing.

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   After work the next day, Juice got the okay to go home early. He changed into his workout clothing and leashed up Serotah. Rescued from a puppy mill, he'd kept his lovely tan purebred pitbull close for the past four years he'd had her. He refused to dock her tail and ears, giving her a floppy, goofy look, but Serotah had been his only true friend in this time. Locking up carefully, Juice started on his daily two hour jog with his pet, knowing they both needed it in the ratty apartment he was stuck in.
   Juice entered his apartment, humming some silly tune he'd heard of. Serotah snarled and lunged, nearly yanking the leash from his hand. Juice himself let out a yelp when he saw what was making his girl freak out. Tig Trager was sitting in the ratty lawn chair he'd gotten, sipping on a beer. "Sitzen." Juice mumbled to the snarling dog on the leash. She immediately sat, her haunches still rigid and a low snarl under her breath. "What are you doing here?" Juice breathed, kneeling to calm his dog. "Nice dog... What is she?"

"American Pit..." He mumbled another command in her ear and unleashed her. She loped up to Tig, sniffing him cautiously before sitting in front of him, her tail thudding rapidly on the ground. Tig reached out, scratching her behind the ears. "She's pretty... Name?"

"Serotah."

"What's that mean?"

"Orphan." Juice wrapped her leash, locking his door. "Why are you here, Tig?" He asked again, crossing his arms. He whistled for Serotah, and she immediately sat by his feet. "How'd you get in here?"

"Followed you. Lock was easy to pick... Dude what the fuck is with this place? It's gross."

"It's affordable." Juice sat down behind his dog. "You don't have any fucking food man, I'm hungry."

"Haven't been able to go shopping yet." He mumbled, his head down as he busied himself petting Serotah. "You got plenty of dog food."

"She's a big eater..."

"Well come on, you got the day off. Let's go shopping. I wanna talk to you anyways and I can't do that on a fucking empty stomach." Juice balked, standing and holding up the leash. "Got... Went for a walk... Need a shower..." He mumbled. Tig motioned to where his bathroom was. "By all means. Then we'll go." Juice hung his head, his ears burning. "I can't." He mumbled. "And why not?" Juice shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can't afford it." He whispered, barely above a breath. Tig nodded. "I know." Juice looked at him quickly, his eyes round. "How?" The man tossed a ratty leather bound journal on the floor in front of him. Juice's eyes widened even more, and began to well with tears. "Why did you go through my shit?" He asked, fury bubbling in him, a cover for his shame. "It was on your bed... Well, that pile of sheets that acts as a bed for you... Why didn't you let us know, Juice?" Juice hung his head, blinking away tears of embarrassment. "My problem." He stepped over his dog and tried to head into the bathroom but Tig rose and caught him, turning him to face him. "The point of this club, Juice, is to help each other. That's what being a brother is."

"I'm just a Prospect."

"So? If you needed help, you should have let someone know. Go shower, and we'll get you some food. We need to talk about some of the other things I found out about the great fucking life of Juan Carlos Ortiz." Juice's throat closed. "Please don't tell the club..."

"About what?"

"The journal... Please... No one is supposed to know about that." Tig smiled softly and grabbed Juice's face, kissing his cheek. "Go take a shower. I'll play with the dog. Then we'll talk." Juice nodded. He stripped off his shirt with shaking hands as he walked toward the bathroom, completely missing the look of approval he got from Tig.

   When Juice emerged from the bathroom he had to laugh, a real genuine laugh, something he hadn't done in a while. Tig was stretched out on the floor with Serotah laying directly on top of him. She was fast asleep, drooling a rope of slobber down his arm. Tig grinned foolishly up at Juice. "Nice shower?" He asked, gently pushing the dog off him. She grumbled at losing her comfy bed, but spun once, flopped down, and was out again. "Yeah..."

"You're lying... The hot water here is shit."

"You're right... How long have you fucking been here?" Juice cracked a beer, nearly the only thing in his kitchen save for dog food, and sat on the floor. "Since about five minutes after you left with the dog. Had some time to explore." Tig sighed softly and reached over, scooping up the journal. "You talk a lot in this, Juice... Why don't you talk to people?"

"You read it... You should know." He mumbled, staring at his feet. "Yeah. I know some... But this is just ramblings... You don't explain a lot... And you've ripped a lot of pages out."

"Scared someone would find it." Juice said, giving Tig a droll look. The older man smiled. "Let's go get some food. My treat, okay?"

"I couldn't."

"Shut it, Prospect. You can. And you will. Come on, it's not like I'm buying you a ten course dinner at the fucking Ritz. It's some fast food." Juice sighed softly but nodded. "Okay... Lemme finish dressing."

"Get that cut on too, you won't ride with me if you don't have it." Juice gave a nod again. "Sero... Kommen." She rose lazily and followed him to his bedroom. He filled up her food and water before scratching her lovingly on the head and dressing.
   Juice slid into the booth nearest to the door. Tig sat across from him, sliding the tray over. "Go ahead." Juice took the food cautiously, two burgers and a large fry, much to Juice's disapproval, but Tig had insisted. He took a bite. "Thank you..." He whispered. Tig smiled softly. "Welcome. Now... Let's talk." He took a bite of his own food and stared Juice down, until the boy diverted his gaze. "Why do you look away all the fucking time?"

"Just do."

"Who's he?" Tig asked then, and Juice looked up. "What?"

"Your journal. You keep saying him, or he, or his... Always underlined or written slanted... So who is he?"

"Just someone from my past..." The words seemed pained for the young man to speak. Tig frowned. "What's up with your fucking past, kid? What happened?" Juice shook his head, looking down at his food, suddenly not hungry. Tig sighed. "If you wanna fit into this club, become a member... You need to be honest. Journals, secrets, that's not trustworthy."

"What's my past have to do with now?"

"I've got two fucking daughters. You think if I kept that from the club it wouldn't affect them?"

"I don't have kids."

"You have a brother. And a mom." Juice's head ducked low again. "No."

"You told me you did."

"I don't anymore." He breathed, taking a big bite of his burger, if anything to keep from having to speak. "What do you mean?"

"Mom's dead... Brother and I don't speak." He mumbled through his burger. "I'm sorry... Why don't you talk?" Juice's gaze lowered again. "Didn't approve of my choices."

"Being gay?"

"I'm not gay... I like both... And no, not because of that." Tig nodded. "What about your childhood... At least you had to have a fun childhood."

"If you think fun is having the clearest memory of your mother being the smell of cum and booze... I knew what sex smelled like before I knew what my dick was for." He flushed at the words, ducking his head down. Tig sighed and reached over, lifting his chin. "I'm not gonna hit you for talking, dummy. I want to know this stuff, okay?" Juice hesitated but nodded. "It's just hard."

"Why?" Juice shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it in public." Tig nodded. "I understand. Finish your food... I need to call Gemma, let her know I'm gonna be a little late." He rose and squeezed Juice's shoulder before walking out the door. He leaned against the glass of the building near where Juice was sitting, putting his phone to his ear.
   They headed back to the house when Juice had finished. Serotah leapt at them, excited. "Sitzen." Juice snapped, and she immediately sat, her entire body shaking with excitement. "What language is that?" Tig asked, tossing his cut over the chair. "German."

"You speak German?" Tig scooped up the journal and took a seat, flipping through it. "Just to her... She's my baby but she's still my protector... I need some way to be sure she won't listen to anyone but me if I need her to keep me safe." Juice sat on the floor in front of Tig, his eyes searching the journal, as if it would give him any answer he needed. "So... I'll ask the same question... "Why are you afraid to talk to people?"

"I've been hurt for the shit I've said." He shrugged. "What do you mean?" Juice sighed softly. "It's really hard to talk about." Tig nodded. "Fine... Are you into guys as a habit?" Juice lowered his gaze, his ears burning. Tig opened his journal and began to read. "I feel so dirty, thinking about him that way... But all I can picture is him being buried balls deep in my ass, fucking the sh--"

"Stop!" Juice reached up, knocking the journal from his hands. "Yes. I'm into guys, okay? As a habit." He looked away, his entire face burning. He felt his eyes welling with tears. "If it keeps me from getting into the club... I guess that's my own fault." Tig, realizing his overstep, knelt in front of Juice. He grabbed the boy, pulling him close. "Hey... It won't." He said softly, smiling sadly when Juice looked at him. His brown eyes were shiny with tears, his face showing more emotion than it had in the two months Tig had known him. Tig couldn't help. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Juice's perfectly pouty lips, holding the back of his head to keep him from pulling away. No need to worry about that, however, Juice reciprocated quickly, submitting by opening his mouth and leaning into Tig's lanky body. Tig grinned against his mouth, slipping his tongue in. Juice had a unique taste, a very nice one at that. A small whimper escaped Juice's throat when Tig bit down on his bottom lip before pulling away. He had to smile at the boy, his eyes still closed and a small smile daring to pull his lips. "Liking dick... Won't keep you out of this club... You just need to be careful who you tell." Tig said softly against Juice's cheek. The boy nodded, relaxing against the older man. Tig slid his hands over the younger man's firm muscles, inhaling his musk. Juice was pliant in Tig's hands, to the point of being strangely so. "Would you really like to fuck me?" Tig breathed. He felt the heat increase on his own cheek as Juice began to blush. "No... I'd like you to fuck me..." He admitted, confident, despite the soft tremble Tig felt under his hands. "Keep being honest... And talking to me... And maybe I will." Tig murmured, brushing his lips over Juice's ear. The Latino let out a soft moan, a shiver racing through his body. His eyes slid shut and he rested his head on Tig's shoulder. It felt so nice to be relaxed, truly, with someone. "Tell me about growing up..." Tig breathed. Juice's breath caught. "My mom was a whore... My brother, Julio... Always said my dad was one of her Johns... But I don't know... Don't know my Dad. My brother started doing and selling drugs when he was thirteen... To make ends meet with us..." He buried his face in Tig's shoulder. The older man held him tighter. "My mom died when I was sixteen... My brother kicked me out to make it easier on himself."

"Jesus, kid..." Juice pulled away, wiping his face. He grumbled, annoyed with himself. "How'd your mom die?" Tig asked. "Her pimp beat her to death when she didn't give him all the money she owed him." He shrugged. "I needed to go to the doctor... Had pneumonia." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I got her killed." Tig sighed softly and wiped Juice's face. He glanced at his cell phone and sighed. "Listen, kid, I gotta go, Gemma needs some help moving a new table or some shit into her house... I wanna come back... Keep talking to you." Juice winced a little. "Okay..." He whispered. Tig pressed another kiss to his mouth. "I'll bring dinner."

"You don't have to do that..."

"I know." Tig rose and smacked the back of Juice's head. "Stop being scared of your fucking voice, dipshit. It's safe here." Juice smiled softly and nodded, turning to watch Tig walk out.



   "Prospect. Get down here." Tig's voice was sharp over the phone, not the same voice Tig had been using when he left. "What's going on?" Juice asked, rubbing his eyes. He'd been napping, the phone call waking him. "Quit asking fucking questions and get down here." Juice snapped the phone shut and headed down his stairs, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

   Tig and Jax stood outside Jax's truck, smoking. In the back of the truck were a good twenty to thirty bags of groceries. Juice froze when he saw, looking from Tig to Jax and back to Tig. Jax smiled softly, standing straight and walking up to Juice. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. Juice hung his head. "It's not your problem... I was doing okay... My dog was fed."

"But you weren't... And if you wanna Prospect for this club, you need to be in your best shape. You should know that." Juice nodded. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "Don't be... Just don't hide it next time. We can always help out, okay? Especially with something like this."

"Yes... Okay...Thank you."

"Don't thank me... Come on, let's get this shit upstairs." He scooped Juice's keys from his pocket. "Is your dog gonna attack me?"

"No, just tell her sitzen... She'll listen."

"Sitzen?"

"German." Jax nodded and grabbed a handful of bags, heading up. Juice looked to Tig, who smiled, crushing out his smoke. "Did you tell him?"

"Just enough to get him to help you out... It's up to you to tell those secrets, Ortiz." Juice nodded. "Thank you." Tig smirked and slapped his cheek. "Stop thanking me, Jesus... Faggot." Juice smiled, laughing a little as he grabbed a few handfuls of bags. "You're cooking me dinner tonight, by the way." Tig shouted as he headed up the stairs. "Maybe something Mexican!" Juice shouted something back, lost to the wind.
   The three were sitting, sipping on beer. "I know you don't wanna have me thank you guys... But this really does mean so fucking much." Juice said softly. Jax nodded, squeezing his shoulder. "It's fine."

"I'd like you to stay a while, Jax... For dinner. One, you guys did buy this food... And two... I need to talk about some shit." He looked to Tig, who gave a small smile and nodded. Jax nodded. "Of course."
   Juice set to work cooking while Jax and Tig chatted in the living room. He was trying his hardest not to overhear, but really couldn't help it. "What made you wanna come over here anyways?" Jax asked. "The party... I really freaked him out. We just kinda started chatting, he told me some pretty heavy shit..."

"Is it bad?"

"What he told me, pretty awful... I think there's more, what he'll probably talk about tonight."

"Is he SAMCRO material? With all of this shit?" There was a long silence before Tig spoke again. "He needs to get over his fear of talking to people... But if he can, he's definitely someone we'd be smart to patch over."

   Juice came into the living room, balancing plates perfectly. "Sorry I don't have a table... Or more chairs..." He said softly. "No problem... We'll figure something out for that, okay?" Juice flushed at Jax's words and shook his head. Jax raised a finger. "Shut the fuck up before you say it." Juice smiled, embarrassed, and handed them their plates. Serotah crawled her way over, putting her head in Juice's lap and giving him a begging look. He snarled and shoved her head away, but offered her a chunk of meat.

   The silence was deafening, no one wanting to start the conversation they knew would not be happy. Finally, Juice sighed and looked up at them, pushing his empty plate away. "I've been keeping some big secrets from you, Jax." He began. He looked down, chewing his bottom lip. "I grew up in New York, that was true, and I'm running from some assholes I fucked with because of a hacking job I did... But if it was that simple I'd already be back in New York... They were small time criminals, easy to confuse, even easier to get rid of... The real reason I'm here goes back even further... To when I was a kid..." He took a shaky breath. "I already explained to Tig.. My mother was a whore. It was the only thing she really knew how to do. Her pimp, Marcus... Marcus Rabador, was a hard ass for the money she owed him... I got sick during winter... It got cause we lived in a shitty apartment with even shittier food... Turned into pneumonia. She used some of the money she was supposed to give to Mark... To take me to the doctor and get me medication. I was a scrawny, weak little shit... I would have died without it... Anyways, Mark found out... He beat her death for it, and came after me... My brother, Julio... He thought Mark wanted to kill us both because of what she did... Blamed me, it was my fucking fault... But he kicked me out for it... To save himself. He had a baby on the way with his girlfriend..." He pulled his knees up to his chest. Tig reached out and offered him a cigarette, which he took and lit who a grateful smile. After a few deep drags, he began to speak again. "Mark found me easy... I still think Julio told him... He did threaten me at first... I was a weak fucking sixteen year old Puerto Rican kid... Never been on my own, didn't know shit from dirt... But he got a good look at me... I look a lot like my mom, see? More so than Julio... Save for my nose, fuck I could be her if I tried... He liked that... So he gave me a deal... Fuck... I should have refused, just let him fucking off me... But I was stupid, and desperate. So I started working for him." He hung his head again. "He had me working before my seventeenth birthday... After he and his buddies trained me of course.." Juice took another few drags off the cigarette, and Jax could see his hand shaking. He felt sick to his stomach, understanding, on a much deeper level now, why Juice was the way he was.

   "It was okay... I mean, at first. Most of the guys, women... Were nice. I was young and cute and they thought it was real funny to laugh at me... But Mark just kept getting meaner and meaner... He was a fucking sadist." He chuckled weakly. "I never knew what real pain was until Mark taught me a lesson one night... I didn't bring in as much cash as I normally did... Only fifteen grand instead of my normal twenty to thirty... Slow night..." He bit back a shiver as it raced down his spine. "It was because of Mark I learned that words aren't my friend... They always seemed to get me in deeper shit with him... Only thing I could say that wouldn't get me beat, burned, or fucked was sorry." He played with a loose string on his khakis, reaching over to pet Serotah, an unconscious gesture. She crawled over to him and whimpered, resting her head in his lap. "I knew I had to get away the night he locked me in the closet. I was twenty nine."

   Jax shook his head, a little sick to his stomach. "You did this for thirteen years? Jesus Christ, Juice..." Juice nodded, chewing his lip. He'd drawn a small line of blood around the outer edge from tearing at the skin with his teeth. Tig leaned forward and pulled his lip free, wiping the blood from it. Juice glanced up and gave a shy, nervous smile. Jax smirked a little to himself, seeing the motion, but saying nothing. Instead, he changed the subject. "So how'd you get so good with computers?" Juice laid flat, crushing out his cigarette on his plate and pulling a pack from his own pocket to light another one. "I've always liked technology. A good outlet for frustration... I got holed up in the house Mark had for his boys and women for a good month with a broken leg, an aggressive client busted it... And I started taking computer lessons from his business partner... Real nice chick, Lisa, her name was, I think... She taught me everything I didn't know, filled in all the gaps... I took it from there... Made Mark a little nicer to me, he could have me working on the computers, filing and changing things... Where I started my hacking, when I wasn't up to working or when I just needed a break... It made me happy... When Trey approached me... He's the guy I ran from at first... I was excited. Wanted me to hack into the mainframe security of the New York department of homeland security and change a few names... I didn't know who, didn't care who... I was just fucking stoked that they trusted me... Anyway I did it, but Mark caught on to what I was doing... Called in his own fucking security... Trey found out and came after me, thinking I was the fucking snitch... So here I am. Packed up my life, my bike, and my truck, and headed out West." He shrugged and hoisted himself up. There was a not uncomfortable silence after Juice finished speaking. Finally Jax chuckled. "That's the most you've ever spoken to anyone I know here, Juice." He said. Juice offered a weak smile. "That's the most I've spoken in twelve years."

"How old are you?"

"Be thirty one in December."

"Shit, you don't look that old." Juice smiled. "I age like a champ... One of my best qualities... Next to fucking and hacking." Jax sighed a little. "Juice... Listen... You're safe here. I promise you that. We have your back... Don't be afraid to have a voice at T/M, at the clubhouse, okay?"

"It's a hard habit to break, Jax."

"I understand... But break it. If you want to be our brother, you need to talk to us." Juice nodded. "Are you... Do you have to tell everyone about this?" Jax shook his head. "Not a soul. I'll need to tell Clay a little, give him a name or two, just so we can watch out for the guys... But your family, what you did before Charming... That's between we three unless you wanna talk about it, okay?"

"Thank you..." Juice whispered, and Jax's heart went out for the boy when he saw the tears in his eyes. "Don't mention it... Now... I think I might be catching on to something here..." He glanced at Tig, who was giving away nothing with his expression. He was staring intently at the floor, a cigarette burning down between his fingers. "That night at the clubhouse... Something happened didn't it?" Juice's face paled and he looked away, ashamed. "I'm sorry..." He breathed. Tig shook his head. "Fucking stop apologizing." He snapped. "Did you want it, or did I fucking force you into it?" Juice stayed silent. Jax looked over at Tig, his expression not at all light. "What happened, Tig." A command, not a question. "I had him suck my dick." Jax's lips tightened into thin lines. "That was it!" Tig snapped. "I didn't know he used to be a fucking whore, how could I?" Juice winced visibly at the word. "I didn't even think he'd fucking do it until his lips were around my fucking cock! After that I went with it, what would you have done?!" Jax shook his head. "Jesus Christ, Tig! He's supposed to be someone you'd have as a brother! Fuck..." He rubbed is hand down his face, grimacing. "Look, I... I don't wanna fucking know, okay? This shit had better not affect either of your work at T/M or with SAMCRO, understood?" Tig nodded. He looking over at Juice. The Latino was stoic, his arms wrapped around his knees. His chin rested on them, but his head was ducked just enough to prevent any eye contact. He nodded slowly.

   Jax reached out, noting the flinch he earned when he touched Juice's shoulder. "Come outside with me." Juice nodded and rose wordlessly. He leashed up Serotah and followed Jax outside. The blonde led him over to a patch of grass, allowing the dog space to do her duty. "Juice, look at me." The man raised his head slowly, locking gazes with Jax. Shame and embarrassment filled his deep brown gaze. "Did he force you into it?"

"No... He asked and I did... It's what I was taught to do."

"That's not what I asked, Juice. And this isn't New York. Even if you are a Prospect... You can say no."

"I didn't want to... Not really... I kind of miss it... Fuck, I'm sorry..."

"What do you miss?" Jax asked, ignoring the apology. "A guy's touch... The men were always nicer than the women... Catty fucking bitches... Guys at least made sure I sort of enjoyed it, most of the time."

"Do you like Tig?" Juice shrugged. "I don't know." Jax sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get a committal answer out of this Prospect. "Listen... Do what you want. I don't care who you fuck, okay? Your secret's safe with me, and no one would take Tig seriously, he's kind of a fucking freak. Just know what you're doing... Tig is a hard pill to swallow." He chuckled when Juice flushed red. "You know what I mean." The boy nodded. Jax slapped his cheek lightly. "I'm headed home... I'll see you at T/M tomorrow, okay? Remember what I said about that voice of yours. Use it." Juice nodded. "Thank you, for everything."

"Don't mention it, brother." He said, and couldn't help but smile at the grin he received in return. He slid into his truck and drove off.



   When he entered his apartment again, Tig was finishing up the dishes. He entered the living room and sat down across from Juice on the floor. "Did I force you into it? Be honest." Juice shook his head. "No. I wanted it... I didn't realize I did until I was actually going at it... But I needed it."

"Why?"

"Because I miss being wanted... Needed, even if it is only for some head. There's only so far sex toys and my hand will get me... I miss..." He shrugged. "I don't know, I guess I fucking miss a person that's willing to hold me... Even if it's only for an hour." Tig nodded, staring at his hands as he thought. "I'm sorry. About what happened to you." He finally said, the words sounding awkward on his lips. "It's done with... Just a part of who I am."

"You were a kid."

"I was a mistake... Julio always asked my mom why she didn't abort me... Mark asked me the same thing when I couldn't make him cum." He laughed, a hard, empty sound. "I got what was coming to me and I learned from it. Still am..." Tig sighed and moved closer to Juice. He lifted the boy's face. "Let's go to bed."

"You don't have to... I don't need a pity fuck because of my childhood."

"I'm not giving you a pity fuck. If you needed that I'd tell you to go down the street. I'm fucking you because you want it... And after what you told me tonight... You deserve to get what you fucking want, at least once... If you still want it."

   Juice squirmed a little, the thought going down his throat straight to his groin. "Yeah..." Was all he could manage to get out. Tig rose and pulled Juice up by the back of his neck, shoving him into the bedroom.

       "How long has it been? Since you got fucked?" Juice's eyes were shut, his hips grinding against Tig's. "At least seven months..." The boy panted, digging his fingers into Tig's hips. "But I'm looking forward to it..." His eyes opened and a smirk curled his lips. Tig chuckled. "I'm sure you are..." He stripped himself nude, tugging Juice's shorts over his hips. Juice reached up and dug around in a small pile at the head of his makeshift bed for a moment before revealing a bottle of lube and a condom. Tig chuckled. "Don't ask..." Juice panted, handing them to him. Tig nodded and slipped the condom on with a surprisingly steady hand. He slicked up Juice's entrance and slipped a finger in, surprised at the moan of pleasure, not pain. Juice flushed. "I said no sex..." He panted. "I didn't say no fun." Tig chuckled darkly, slipping in a second and third, finally eliciting a hiss from his new lover. He stretched the boy ruthlessly, loving the clenching and writhing from the man underneath him. When Juice was well on his way to ecstasy, he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his shaft. Inch by inch, he slipped into the younger man, his gaze staying on his face. Juice's face contorted into pain, but turned to pleasure once the tip of Tig's erection was fully inside him. He arched his back high when Tig was buried to the balls. "Feel good?" Tig breathed against his neck, flexing his hips to get the final few centimeters in. Juice licked his lips and nodded, crying out when the man pulled out and shoved himself deeply back in. Juice grabbed the sheets under him, his eyes screwed shut. He hooked his legs around Tig's midsection, letting his body relax. "That's a big dick..." He whined, tossing his head back with a shout when Tig slammed in once more. "You just have a tight ass..." Tig grumbled in his ear, thrusting in a slow, circular motion. Each movement earned a high pitched whine from Juice, his jaw working as he struggled to keep his body calm and relaxed. "Fuck me..." He whispered, digging his fingers into Tig's back. "Hard, please... Please..." He panted his pleas, each word an arrow straight to Tig's groin. He loved hearing people beg. "Fuck!" Juice's back arched when Tig pulled completely out, rubbing his shaft over the younger man's shaft and balls. "Please..." Juice begged, spreading his legs a little wider and arching, trying to guide the cock back into his hole. His breath caught in his throat when he felt the tip catch his entrance and he worked his own body back onto it, much to Tig's pleasure. "Jesus Christ, Tig, please..." He panted, looking up at Tig with begging eyes when the man refused to move. He thrust his hips forward just a bit, earning a happy moan. Juice whined and dug his nails into Tig's back. Tig pulled all the way out, smirking. He shoved the man's legs up by the knees, his fingers biting into Juice's legs. The Latino winced a bit, but hid it. Tig began to slam in, hard and rough, moving Juice a good two inches on each thrust. The boy began to writhe underneath him, moaning and screaming his name. Tig grunted against his neck, his fingers biting into Juice's thighs as he slammed in, over and over, angling his thrusts toward the younger man's prostate. Juice's fingers scratched rivets down Tig's back as he begged for more. Juice reached between them and jerked his own shaft rapidly, his breath catching as his orgasm washed over him, soaking their stomachs with his milky fluid. Tig pulled out and yanked off the condom. Before he had much time to process, Juice's mouth was over his dick, bobbing his head and sucking hard. He looked up at Tig with a sly grin, raking his teeth gently over the underside. The look alone would have made Tig cum, and the warm mouth pushed him over the edge. He grabbed Juice's head and came deep down his throat, thrusting his hips into the boy's mouth as he groaned.

   Tig flopped down next to the prone Juice, smirking just a little in the afterglow. "Good enough?" He panted. Juice grinned sheepishly. He reached over and dug through the pockets of his discarded pants, finding his smokes. He lit one up and handed one to Tig. The older man took it, looking over the tanned body of his new lover. He reached down and brushed his fingers over a set of nasty scars lining Juice's hip, almost hidden by his dark pubic hair. Juice started a bit, tugging his hip away for rigs touch. "What's this?" Juice blew out a mouthful of smoke. "What I earned for talking too much..." He said, running his hand over them. The burns at least... The cuts..." He drew his finger over lines crisscrossing the circular burn marks. "Were for when I wasn't tight enough for Mark, or one of his friends... Or when I didn't do a good job pleasing them..." He shrugged. "There's a reason I learned to suck dick so good." Tig sighed sadly, looking at Juice's profile. "You got away... That's what counts." Juice chuckled scornfully. "Is it? When I look behind me in the store, afraid Mark found me, is gonna take me home and tie me up for another three days?" He mumbled. Tig sighed again and rubbed his hand over Juice's short mohawk. "Stop letting it fucking control you, okay?" Juice nodded slowly. He rolled to his side, not facing Tig. The older man sighed and sat up, grunting as his back popped pleasantly. "Want me to go?" Juice hesitated, then shrugged. "If you want to." Tig sighed, annoyed, and grabbed Juice's arm, flipping him onto his back. Juice flinched at he rough hand. "I'm asking you what you want, dipshit." Juice shrugged again, looking at the ceiling. "People don't stay with me after they take me... It won't hurt my feelings either way." He mumbled. "For fucks sake, Juice." Tig snarled, annoyed. "You need to get it through your fucking head that I'm not people. I'm your fucking friend."

"Just my friend?" Juice asked, his words dripping with venom. He looked over, making it obvious he was looking at Tig's member. "You know what I fucking mean." Juice shook his head and sat up, pulling his shorts on. Tig grabbed his hand, pinching enough to make Juice wince again, but too frustrated to notice. "Look, I don't do fucking relationships. I don't know how, and the only one I ever fucking attempted ended with me having two daughters who hate me for breathing unless they need money. I don't know what you want me to fucking say, kid."

"You don't have to say anything." Juice's voice was cold and empty. "I get it." He yanked his hand back, flexing the pinched muscles. "Just go home... You have my number if you wanna get laid again." Tig pulled back, the words biting in a way he didn't expect. He snarled, annoyed, not only at Juice for thinking so little of him, but at himself for feeling such emotion for the punk. He shoved Juice back with some force, reacting the only way he knew how. He rose and yanked on his clothes quickly, muttering under his breath. Juice curled his arms around his knees, resting his chin on them and staring at the floor.

   Tig paused, once, when he reached the bedroom door, half hoping Juice would stop him... He knew, if the boy did, he'd stay. But the Latino on the floor made no motion to do much else but breathe, his head too low for Tig to see his face. Tig turned and walked out, giving Serotah a scratch on the head before leaving the shitty apartment.

   Juice felt his entire body relax when the door shut, and the tears he'd been biting back erupted, wetting his cheeks. He knew Jax had warned him, but he was hoping, against all else, that maybe... Just maybe... Things could have worked. Once in his pathetic life.

   'It's my fault for getting into these situations. Instead of letting myself grow as a human, find someone maybe worth it, I fall for the first person I can find that has the emotional capacity of a walnut. I really like Tig, that's why I opened up to him... And Jax... I trust Jax... I should have trusted him when he warned me about Tig. This shit is getting worse and worse,and the best part? It's all my fucking fault. Had I just told him no... Go home... Things can't work between us, I wouldn't be sitting here sobbing like a fucking bitch. It's times like this that I wish I was back with him. He beat the living shit out of me, but at least I knew what to expect with him. I knew he didn't love me, and it was okay, because he was there. In his own weird way. I need to fix this shit before I lose what good I've found here with SAMCRO.'
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