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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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   Jax approached Juice almost as soon as he rode up to Teller/Morrow the following morning. "Let's take a ride." He said simply, tossing a set of truck keys to Juice. The Latino caught them awkwardly and tripped over his own foot attempting to catch up with Jax. He glanced toward the garage and felt his heart fill his throat when he saw Tig watching him from across the parking lot. He ducked his head down, ashamed of himself and hurried to follow Jax, tugging his hood over his head. Jax hopped into the passenger seat of his truck and glanced at Juice as he slid into the driver's seat. "Drive... We need to get you some hardware if you're gonna work computers for us... Know a good place?"

"I just need a laptop with the internet and I can do anything you want me to." Juice said, a little pride in his voice. Jax nodded. "Then go ahead towards the mall, there's a good little computer store there..." He was quiet as they drove out of T/M, watching the road. Finally, he spoke. "So what happened last night after I left?"

"You told us you didn't wanna hear about it." Jax bit back a grimace. "I'm asking." Juice shrugged. "We fucked." His voice had taken on a sort of monotone quality. "Why's Tig so bitchy today? Getting laid normally makes someone feel better." Juice shrugged again, his eyes still not leaving the road. "Don't know. He left about ten minutes after he came." Jax sighed, lighting up a cigarette. "Sounds like Tig... Did you two talk? I'm not trying to pry, but if you end up getting into something serious with him, I need to know... Not the details or anything but--"

"It won't happen." Juice muttered, cutting him off. Jax glanced over, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"We did talk. He made it pretty clear he doesn't do relationships." He shrugged. "It was just a pity fuck, I'm sure." Jax's frown deepened. "I'm sorry, Juice."

"Don't worry about it. My whole life has been just a fuck for some reason or the other. I guess I don't do relationships either."

"But you want one." Juice glanced over, his expression droll. "Does it really matter what I want? We're given what we're given. That's it."

"Things can change." Juice snorted. "Very optimistic. Look, I don't wanna keep thinking about this shit, okay? Why are we going to get a computer?" Jax sighed a little but let the topic go. "There's a guy that's giving our shippers some dick about the boats... It's holding up our gun shipment this month. We need you to find him."

"Why can't you guys do it?"

"No clue where he is. We have a name and a fake address."

"State?"

"We think Oregon, but it could be Washington, New York, or South Carolina." Juice laughed. "Giving me a lot to go on... What's so someone from the east coast doing with his fingers on shipments to California?"

"We aren't sure... We need to find him to ask." Juice chuckled. "Ask." He said with sarcasm seeping through the word. Jax chuckled. "That's for us to know, Prospect." Juice grunted and pulled into the parking lot of the mall.
   When the two returned to T/M, Clay approached them and shoved a Manila folder into Juice's hand. "I'm against this technology shit... So prove me wrong and don't fuck it up." Juice smiled shyly. "Yessir.. Ah, Clay." He slipped into the clubhouse with his head ducked. Jax scowled and hurried past Clay when he saw Tig head for the door Juice disappeared into. He grabbed Tig's arm. "Leave it." Tig glared at the young vp. "Leave what?"

"He's on club business, Tig. Don't distract him. He told me what happened last night."

"That he kicked me to the fucking curb when I was trying to help?"

"By telling him you just wanted a fuck buddy? After he told us about his life in New York? How's that helping, Tig?" Tig shook his head and tugged his arm out of Jax's grip. "Keep out of my personal life, Teller." He snapped. Jax stepped in front of him and placed his hand on Tig's chest. "He. Is on. Club. Business. Leave him alone. If you want to harass him about being your fuck buddy, do it when he's not trying to prove himself to the club, and doing something that could get us all killed." Tig shoved Jax's hand off his chest but stepped back when Jax's fist clenched. "Fine. Whatever. But he and I have a bit of unfinished fucking business, why don't you go tell him that." He spat near Jax's feet and stalked off to the other end of the garage. Jax sighed and shook his head, walking toward Gemma's office.
   That evening, Jax slipped into the apartment where Juice had holed himself up all day. He chuckled a little when he saw the young man dozing, his head on his arms. The laptop was open in front of him with the files spread out. Two empty packs of cigarettes and at least four empty beer bottles were piled on the floor next to him. Jax walked up and squeezed Juice's shoulder, making the boy jump. He reached for his knife but Jax came around him quick, grinning. "Sleeping on the job?" Juice blushed. "No... I have a name and address... Plus some of his friends and where he hangs out... At least the basics." He handed Jax a simple jump drive. "All on there."

"What's the matter?" Jax asked immediately when he caught sight of Juice's face. The boy's eyes looked puffy and bloodshot, as if he'd been crying. "Nothing." He whispered. He shut the laptop and rose, stretching to let his back pop. "Can I run back to my place and let Sero out? I'll be back to go over the stuff if you need me to."

"No, no it's alright. You did great, thanks, Juice... Keep your phone turned up though, I might need you." Juice grunted. Jax squeezed his arm before he walked out, his head hung low as he walked past the other SAMCRO members at the bar and out to his bike.

   "Juice!" Juice grimaced. He kept walking. "Prospect!" The voice was sharper and he stopped, turning around slowly. He kept his eyes down as Tig stepped up to him. "Where you going?"

"Home... Letting out Serotah... Jax said ok." He breathed. Tig reached out and knuckled his chin a little, making him look up. "You been crying?"

"No." He pulled his chin out of Tig's grip. "Did you need something?"

"I wanna talk to you." Juice sighed softly. "I'll be running with Sero for a few hours... I'll be showered by about nine... If you wanna do anything you gotta bring your own condoms." Tig pulled back, his expression confused. "Excuse me?" Juice looked at him, his eyes empty. "If that's not what you want, and it's not club business... Then we don't have shit to discuss." He turned his back on Tig to straddle his bike. Before he could, he felt a strong hand on his throat, yanking him backwards. The concrete rose quickly and his head struck it hard, making him cry out. "I don't fucking care what you think your fucking past gives you the right to, you do not speak to me like that in this parking lot, or fucking ever if you want to keep breathing." Juice's jaw flexed, his eyes small slits. He held his breath when Tig leaned over, expecting to be spat on, or worse. Tig held out his hand, his face stoic. Juice sat up on his own though and got to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. He could feel a few deep scrapes that were trying to bleed, but nothing more than a bruise. He pulled on his helmet and straddled his bike, ignoring Tig's stare. "If you think I was crying over you, you were wrong." He said to the night in front of them. "I found the guy Jax needed me to find. I'm sure there'll be a meeting about it." He started up his bike and looked back, waiting for Tig to move. When he didn't, he sighed. "Please don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Fuck with me this way." Juice snarled under his breath. He could see a few members filing out from across the way and didn't want them to overhear. "I'll put up with you using me as a quick lay when you need it, okay? Just leave me alone otherwise... I don't need this. Now move."

"Watch your fucking mouth, Prospect."Juice had to bite his tongue. He sped off as soon as Tig was out of the way.

   Tig turned, stalking back up to the clubhouse. Jax was staring at him, his arms crossed. "Don't even fucking say it."

"What did you say?" Jax snarled. "Nothing. I let him fucking smart mouth me to kingdom come. So fucking back off."

"Leave him alone, Tig." Tig's nose wrinkled and he was about to speak, until Clay began to laugh from across the way. He hurried up to the two. "That fucking kid is a genius." He said, pulling his cigar out of his mouth. Jax looked over, his posture relaxing. "Why?"

"I got the shit on that drive printed... This kid fucking found everything. Motherfucker lives in Queens. He found his fucking family, where his kids went to school, even his fucking friends and coworkers... Not to mention his address and where he hangs out, his favorite fucking whore house, bar, nightclub... How did he do it?" Jax shrugged, taking the paperwork from Clay. "Kid's good, I told you." Clay shook his head. "I'm gonna get together the guys for a meeting... Where's the Prospect?"

"He's been at this straight since ten this morning, poor kid was falling asleep at the computer, I sent him home to take out his dog and get some rest, told him to keep his phone on in case we needed him again."

"Good. There's a few places here I'm gonna want more research on, plus some maps on how to get to this guy's address... If the boys go for it, I say we take a trip to New York." He grinned widely, a real smile that even Jax had to smile at. "Told you he was a good guy... He'll be great for SAMCRO." Jax prodded gently. "Yeah, well, he's only been a Prospect for three months, we'll see. If he keeps it like this though, that patch is his. And you can tell him that." Jax smiled and nodded. He sat down at the picnic table and began to flip through the papers. Tig sat next to him. "What's it looking like?"

"Dominic Trevalore... Just your average scum bag by night, good gentleman by day... Looks like he works for a shipping company called Spoke Wheels Incorporated, explains why he's riding our ships... Has two kids... A wife... Plays fucking golf..." He flipped through a few more sheets. "By night he frequents the Babydoll, a strip club in Albany... Has been seen at Marcos'... Looks like that's a brothel run by some guy named Rabador... Associates with men like Christopher--"

"What?"

"What?" Jax glanced up at Tig. "You said he frequents where?" Jax glanced back down. Tig ripped the paper from his grip and scanned it. "Fuck..." He breathed. He set it down and tapped the name of the brothel, Marcos'. "Rabador. Doesn't that name ring a fucking bell?" Jax scowled. His eyes went wide when he realized it. "Aw fuck... That's why he was so spooked... Fuck." He shook his head. "Poor fucking kid... I didn't think something like this would fucking... Shit!" He punched the table. "Do you want me to go get him?" Tig offered. "Fuck no, you're the last person he wants to see." Jax muttered, tossing his cigarette aside. "I need to talk to Clay."

"You promised Juice you'd keep it quiet."

"I'm not gonna tell them he was a fucking whore, but if we get mixed up with this guy and he knows Juice, it could be trouble." He sighed. "Call Juice and tell him I'm gonna meet him at his house in thirty minutes. Alone." He snapped. Tig rolled his eyes but pulled out his cell phone as Jax went to hunt down his step father.
   Juice was sitting in the bed of his ratty truck, smoking a joint. Serotah was chained to the bumper on a seven foot chain, giving her some room to play. Jax pulled up right on time and parked behind the truck. He hopped into the bed. "Mark Rabador... That's why you were crying... I'm so fucking sorry, Juice... I didn't know." Juice laughed weakly. "I've tried to escape it... I just can't. It keeps finding me... He keeps finding me." He sighed sadly and tossed out the roach that remained. He lit up a cigarette. "Was Clay happy with the information?" Jax smiled. "He's fucking proud of you, Juice... Said if you keep doing this shit, you're gonna earn your patch in no time... He's really impressed." Juice tried to smile, but his mind was too far gone. He looked back at the truck between his feet. "What's the plan? With Trevalore? Or can I not know?"

"You found him, you can know... We're going to get him. Listen, Juice, I know I promised to keep things a secret about you, but I needed to tell Clay a little, okay?"

"What'd you tell him?" Juice's eyes were round. "Just that you knew this guy, Rabador... That he was a dangerous man... He's the reason you were running, you were here." Juice nodded. "And?" Jax sighed and hung his head, thinking of how to word the next phrase. He looked up at Juice. "And it bit me in the ass."

"What do you mean?" Jax sighed, lighting a cigarette. "Rabador is after you."

"Course he is." Jax nodded. "We're taking a trip to New York... And Clay wants you with us."

"No..." Juice said softly. "He insists... Says if we can get Rabador into a trap, trick him with you, we can catch Trevalore."

"No, Jax... Please... I-- I can't..." Juice was near tears. "We will keep you safe, Juice. You can't say no to this... Not if you want the patch..."

"Trevalore..." He whispered. Jax frowned. "What about him?"

"Trevalore was my best paying fucking client. If he finds out I'm there. At all. If one thing goes wrong... I'm dead. Rabador promised me to him... Fuck, he promised to fucking sell me to him... Every night I worked, he'd be there... He was the fucker that broke my leg... He's Rabador's best fucking friend. If they stay free after you scare them, they will come after me, Jax. They will fucking find me, and if they don't kill me, they will make me wish I was fucking dead." Jax leaned back on the side of the truck bed, blowing out a mouthful of smoke with a sigh. "Fuck..." He whispered. They were silent for a long time. Jax glanced over and felt his heart soften a little. Juice was curled around himself, shaking ever so slightly. He knew the boy had to be scared to death. He admired him for holding back tears. "Juice... This isn't a good situation... If I tell Clay you won't go... You'll be out... Unless I explain why... Then he'll know... And there's a big chance you'll still be out... Clay doesn't take too kindly to... Well..."

"Faggots." Juice mumbled. "Yeah..." Jax sighed. "This is... A bit tricky... Let me think on it overnight, okay?" Juice nodded. Jax reached out and squeezed the back of his neck gently, letting go quickly when Juice winced. "What's up?"

"Bruise."

"From what?"

"I disrespected Tig." He whispered. "I'm sorry, I forgot for a minute and just got so mad... I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? What did he do?" Jax asked, moving to face Juice fully. The Latino shook his head. "Just put me on the ground and told me to watch my mouth. I deserved it."

"No, you didn't." Jax said softly. "I'll talk to Tig."

"No... Don't worry about it." Juice tried to smile at him. "I'm fine..." Jax sighed. "We're gonna keep you safe, Juice. I promise." Juice nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by the sound of the motorcycle approaching. Jax leaned over the cab of the truck and scowled. "I told him to fucking stay away tonight." He mumbled as Tig pulled up next to his bike. He hopped off and walked around the side of the truck, looking only at Juice. It was as if Jax didn't exist. "Juice..." He said softly. "Are you okay?" Juice nodded. "I'm good." Tig looked up at Jax. "Did you tell him?"

"Yes... And I found out more... Trevalore was one of Juice's fucking clients. His best one... If we let Clay bring Juice, he could end up dead."

"Will. Will end up dead." Juice corrected quietly. Tig sighed softly, shaking his head. "No... We can keep you safe, Juice."

"No, you can't. You don't realize who you're fucking with. These guys are crazy." Jax smirked a little and slapped Juice's cheek. "Have you seen half our club? Crazy is commonplace with SAMCRO. Get some sleep, Juice. I'll see you at T/M tomorrow." Juice nodded. Jax hopped out of the bed and looked to Tig. "Let's go."

"I'm staying... Gotta talk." Jax shook his head. "Let's go, Tig."

"Fuck off, brother." Tig snapped. Jax stepped up to him, glancing at Juice. Juice shook his head. "It's okay..." He said, barely above a whisper. Jax looked back to Tig. "If you lay a hand on him again without reason, I will personally kick your fucking ass. He's gone through enough." Tig nodded. "I understand." Jax glared once more and got on his bike. "You call me if you need something, Prospect." He said before speeding off.

   Tig watched Jax go before turning to face Juice. He blinked a few times before he realized the boy was no longer in the bed of the truck. In fact, he was halfway up the lawn with Serotah. "The fuck kid?" Tig called, following him. Juice didn't slow down, but kicked open the door enough that Tig could catch it on his way up.

   In the apartment, Juice unleashed Serotah and began to strip. He didn't bother looking when Tig entered. "Lock the door." He said, his voice muffled by his shirt. "What are you doing?" Tig asked, locking the door and sitting down in the ratty chair. "Going to take a shower. Your call from Jax kind of delayed my nightly ritual." He said simply. He gathered his clothes and tossed them into the bedroom before walking into the bathroom in his birthday suit.

   Juice stepped out of the shower and entered his bedroom, wiping water from his eyes. He jumped visibly when he saw Tig stretched out on his makeshift bed, reading through his journal. "You need to stop looking through my shit." He snapped, pulling the journal out of Tig's hands. He turned and pulled on shorts. Tig scowled and sat up. "What's that?" He asked. Juice looked over, raising his eyebrows. "What?"

"These." He brushed his hand over some deep scratches and welts on Juice's calf. "Got stuck in a bush." He mumbled. "Liar."

"Does it matter?" Juice snapped, pulling on sweats. "Why are you still here?"

"I wanted to talk about last night."

"I don't!" Juice growled. "I wanna forget it."

"Really?" Tig whispered, his blue gaze locked on Juice's. "Yes." Juice's voice was barely above a whisper. "Then why were you crying over it?" Juice shook his head. "Just go away, Tig."

"I told you that I didn't do relationships normally, not that I wouldn't try."

"You might as well have." Tig stood up and went toe to toe with Juice. The smaller boy stood his ground. "I've got too much shit to worry about without you, Tig. Leave this alone. Please."

"Do your remember what I said? Last night?"

"That we were just friends? That you didn't do relationships?"

"That you deserve to get what you want!" Tig snapped, grabbed Juice's arm in a pinching grip. The Latino winced a little, trying weekly to tug free. "I want you to go away and stop hurting me..." Juice whispered. Tig released him. "Fine." Juice stood in front of him, his shoulders hunched. He shook his head. "Fuck, kid... I don't like this..." He whispered, running his hand down his face. "I don't like feeling this way... And it's real unfair of you to expect me to feel any different or know how to handle this shit when I'm not used to it either." Juice looked up at him sadly. "Just let it go." He whispered. "We wouldn't work anyways."

"Why not?" Juice looked pained for a second at the question, not sure how to answer. He shook his head. "Go home." Tig opened his mouth to speak again when Juice's phone buzzed. The boy jumped to grab it, flipping it open immediately. "Yes." He was silent. "Uh huh. Sure. Be right there." He slipped the phone shut and began to yank on his clothes. "Who was that?"

"Who else would call me? Jax. I gotta go talk to Clay and him at the clubhouse." He said, tugging on his cut and sliding his phone into his pants. "Let yourself out if you wanna, I guess." He shrugged and pushed past Tig, hurrying out the door.

   Juice stalked into his house a few hours later, looking decidedly beat down. He froze when he saw Tig in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. Scowling, he glanced back at his door and then back at Tig. "Uh... What are you doing?"

"Cooking." Tig said simply, turning to dig for plates. "I see that... Why are you still here?"

"Because I wanna try." Tig said, facing him fully. Juice shook his head. "Look, Tig... Thanks... But I really don't want to do anything tonight but curl up in a fucking ball and pretend I'm ten again, okay?" Tig scowled, stepping up to him. "What happened?"

"Jax can't get me out of going to New York. Clay needs my expertise. Jax couldn't talk him out of it without talking about me being a whore, which would have ended with me dying either way. At least this way I die helping the club." He flopped onto the floor and lit a cigarette. "Juice..." Tig whispered. Juice shook his head. "Please Tig, at least give me the respect to let me mope in peace."

"No..." Tig sat next to him and leaned over him, offering a weak smile. "Listen to me, Juice. I won't let anything happen to you."

"You can't stop it."

"I will throw myself in front of you if I have to. I've got your back in New York." Juice sighed sadly, lowering his gaze. Tig grabbed his chin, lifting it. His smile was warmer. "Come on, you really think I'd let the one person I think I might want to try a fucking relationship with die by the hand of his old client? Get real, Juicy... You know me better than that." Juice flushed at the play on his nickname and bit his lip. Tig sighed and pulled the lip free. "Stop chewing your lip, you're getting a fucking scar."

"Sorry..."

"The next time you say sorry I'm gonna beat you raw." Juice blushed deeper. Tig held up the spoon he was stirring with. "I have a wooden spoon to do it too! Don't fuck with me." Juice giggled a little. "Gonna spank me with a wooden spoon, Tig?"

"Spank you with something." Tig mumbled, earning an even more vibrant red on the young Puerto Rican's cheeks. Tig leaned over and pressed a kiss to Juice's mouth. "Just give me a break, okay? I told you I don't know how to do relationships... So give me some slack if I fuck up?"

"You'd be the first person I've been in a real relationship with... So I'll give you slack if you give me it." Juice whispered. Tig grinned and kissed him again, standing and heading back into the kitchen.

   They ate dinner in silence, not uncomfortable, just... Quiet. When they'd finished, Juice rose to do the dishes and Tig stretched out on the floor with Serotah, rubbing her belly gently. "How'd you get this dog?" He called after a few minutes to Juice. The young man stuck his head through. "Puppy farm... I saved her." He said. Tig smiled softly. "Tell me about it." Juice grunted and entered the living room, wiping his hands on his pants. "I had a client who had pure bred pit bulls, gorgeous fucking dogs... But they seemed kinda skittish, you know? So I asked her one day where she got them... She laughed at me of course, but I convinced her to give me the address... I found the place, right outside where I was living... Puppy mill. Tons of fucking pit bulls and other heavy duty breeds..."

"What'd you do?"

"Called the cops." He chuckled a little at Tig's bewildered expression. "I was a fucking prostitute, Tig... What was I supposed to do, go in there with my knife and set free seventy to a hundred dogs, most of them fucking pregnant? No... I called the cops, let them come in and bust it... Most of the dogs found good homes..." He said softly, looking at Serotah with a sad smile. "She didn't." Tig scowled. "What do you mean?"

"Her mom had had a big litter, I guess... Sero was the runt. The cops... Somehow they missed her. She was towards the back, where the dead ones were put... I was walking through after it was cleared out... Heard her yelping..."

"You saved her..."

"She saved me." He said bluntly. "I kept going for those next three years because I wanted to make sure my baby girl had a good home... She deserved it." He leaned over and kissed Serotah's brown and pink splotchy nose. She whuffed under her breath and ran her tongue up his face. Tig smiled softly. "That's really cool, Juice."

"Thanks..." He looked down at his feet, chewing his lip. "Thinking about going back there?"

"Yeah..." Tig shook his head and reached over, lifting Juice's chin before tugging his hand. "Come on to bed. I'll get your mind off it."

"I'm not really in the mood..." Juice whispered. Tig sighed. "I'm not talking about that. I'm good for more than just my dick, you know." Juice blushed but rose, following Tig into the bedroom.

   The older man pulled Juice's shirt off, running his hands over the taut muscles slowly. Juice shivered visibly. Tig smirked a little, locking gazes with him. He undid Juice's pants and let them fall. "Lie facedown."

"Good for more than sex?"

"Mind out of the gutter, jackass." Tig gave him a light, playful shove. Juice stretched out on the makeshift bed face down, pulling his pillow underneath him to elevate his head. He felt Tig straddle his hips and lean down, brushing his lips over his shoulders. The breath disappeared, but was replaced with Tig's hands, gently massaging the tight muscle between Juice's shoulder blades. The Latino let out a surprised moan, burying his face in the pillow. This was the last thing he expected from someone like Tig.

   Tig worked loose all of the tense muscles and knots that were formed in Juice's back and neck, smirking whenever Juice gave a happy moan or sigh of pleasure. When he'd finished, he rose and flipped off the light, pulling the rest of his clothes off save for his boxers. He stretched out and lit up a cigarette, his eyes getting heavy. Juice smiled softly and snuggled up to him, letting his guard down. He reached over and traced lazy circles on Tig's belly. "That was great..." He breathed. "Thank you."

"Welcome... Feel any better?"

"Less tense... Scared still..." Tig shrugged and reached down, twining his fingers with Juice's. "Least it distracted you for a while."

"Need me to take care of that?" Juice offered, motioning to the slight tent in Tig's shorts. The older man shook his head. "No, not tonight." He patted Juice's hand. "You sure? It was kinda my fault... I could feel you shiver every time I moaned..."

"You're kinda fucking sexy sometimes, not my fault." Tig joked. He crushed out his cigarette and rolled onto his side, facing Juice. "No sex tonight. I just want to talk to you." Juice blushed a little. "About what?"

"Anything you want to." Juice bit his lip, his blush darkening. "I guess... I don't know..."

"Favorite color." Tig pressed. "Purple... And green... And black..."

"Why?" He asked. Juice chuckled and answered. Soon the questions led into a steady conversation that took them to the early morning. Finally Juice's mind gave up, and he fell asleep curled in Tig's arms.
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Brave Submission