A Sons of Anarchy, Chibs and Juice Ficlet based on the prompt:
“Juice tells Chibs something he’s never told anyone before.”
(Set somewhere around season 4 or 5, but timeline a bit suspect. It fits between my “Give and Take” and the prequel “Swings and Roundabouts”. Established relationship).
Warnings:- Some Spoilers. Some swearing. Some sexual content.
Dislcaimer: All characters and main story line belongs to Sons of Anarchy creator Kurt Sutter.
The First Time
It’s no secret that Juice has a ream of vulnerabilities and insecurities darting through his mind in any given moment, but it’s at times like this that Chibs has to remind himself that it’s okay to have a few of his own. By ‘times like this’ read late. Or early, depending on your point of view. It’s somewhere around 3am, and the dark, dead of night is rapping against their window along with the relentless rain. Chibs lies warm in their familiar bed, cushioned against a spent, post-coital Juicy, his arms wrapped tightly around his nestling lover. He loves this time when they’re drowsy with unquenched sleepiness, swathed in the afterglow of intensity and passion, safe and together, whatever ills in the world far away. A tender warmth envelops them both, lulling them not into a false sense of security, more a tranquil, mellow mood that allows those insecurities to surface softly and materialise gently.
Not for the first time, Chibs wonders what on earth Juice sees in him. He looks over the pretty Puerto Rican’s lithe body and glances appreciatively at the taut muscles and velvet skin, the dark, wide eyes and the sexy, sensual mouth that Juice uses to full effect, smiling modestly. Post-orgasm, serenity emanating from his being, Juice is always a little reserved. He’s shyly picturing how their bodies moved together, the sounds and noises that escaped his mouth, the gyration of his hips, the sensation of breath, tongue, lips and hands over his skin, the grasping and grappling of bodies, the biting, licking and tasting, and the begging pleas for deeper, harder, faster;
“Please Chibbie, more …….. fuuuck, please, babe?”
Chibs could hardly refuse him when he asked so nicely, and they’d cum together, one hot, sticky mess.
Although he may be reticent whilst recalling the memories, that’s far from the adjective Chibs would use to describe his boy during the act itself. Juice is less composed introvert, more wild, unashamed and demanding enthusiast. They each shudder at their train of thought, their individual recollections triggering new waves of longing and they clasp tighter, moving in to a deep, yearning kiss.
It’s in this state that they’re able to have their most intimate conversations. It’s a relative concept. They rarely find the words for long, demonstrative exchanges, but this is the time they’re more likely to share their thoughts. At his vulnerable best, Chibs decides to broach the subject that’s been playing on his mind.
“What are ye doing with me, Juicy? Ye could have anyone ye want, man or woman.”
It takes Juice by surprise. First of all, he’s not used to seeing Chibs this unguarded, and he realises the Scot is seriously putting himself out there with this. Secondly, he’s never considered himself much of a catch. Yes he’s had his share of crow eaters and one night shags, but relationship wise he’s a novice and he’s always assumed himself too much of a fuck up, carrying too much baggage to really impress anyone or sustain anything.
“But I want you, babe. I think I always have. Everything I want has been wrapped up in you for a while now.”
“When, sweetheart? When did ye start to see this grumpy, old fucker as someone ye were interested in being with, physically?”
Juice contemplates, scrunching up his face, thinking hard for his reply.
“You’re not old Chibbie. You’re not even grumpy most of the time. You’re a good fucker though, babe!”
Chibs snorts, glad of the levity but still keen to resume the conversation.
“C’mon lad, tell me how come I managed to snag me a gorgeous, sexy, young fella, apart from being the best fuck for miles around?”
He lowers his voice slightly, the smile replaced with a thoughtful expression.
“Seriously Juicy. I’m not fishin’ for compliments, just trying to understand, and if I’m honest, feeling a bit insecure about it, love. Thought maybe if ye explain it to me I might be able to understand it better.”
Juice hears the slightest of tremors in Chibs’ voice and understands the importance of his response. It’s not that he wants to brush this aside, or to say something purely to ease his lover’s angst, but he wants to get it right. He owes Chibs more than his life, he certainly owes him that.
“I don’t think there’s been like a moment, it’s been more of a slow burn. Before I went to Stockton it felt as if we started to get to know each other better and we were spending a lot more time together. When I was locked up, you were always my go-to, where my thoughts went when I needed someplace safe. Those late night calls on the burner, the visits, that’s what kept me sane, especially with all the shit that went on in there. Then when I got out I sort of fell into you. It just sort of happened. I don’t mean it was an accident, it seems to me now like it was always supposed to be, I just didn’t realise before then. And now it’s like you’re part of me, that if you weren’t here I’d be without a limb or something. To be honest I never thought I’d be with a man willingly. I don’t see the need to label it, but I still don’t think of myself as gay. It’s just about you, Chibbie. I just fell for you.”
Chibs throws him a puzzled look. He wants more information and he waits for Juice to enlighten him. Juice squeezes in closer, pulling Chibs’ arms tighter around him as he resumes his explanation.
“I guess the first time I thought about you in that way was in Ireland.”
Going to Ireland was the first time Juice had left the country. Even on the journey over he’d noticed a change in Chibs. Of course, that may have been down to the God awful flight, the noise and discomfort of being in the vast belly of a cargo plane, but he was watching his brother carefully, sensing his restlessness and his growing anxiety. When they finally arrived in the lush, fertile countryside he didn’t think that the Scot, adopted by the Irish and eventually exiled State side, felt any sort of welcome returning to his former home, just a mounting unease. He was tense and edgy. He remembers his alarm at Chibs’ unrestrained anger toward the Ulster police and his mood matched the dull greyness of the sky. Juice could see the suffocating oppression clouding over him as they got closer to Belfast.
Arriving at SAMBEL, Chibs had greeted old friends and family warmly. It was obvious that he had loved these people dearly and it was difficult for Juice to comprehend that Chibs had lived a whole other life that he knew nothing about. The entire club had been privy to his reunion with his wife and daughter. There was no hiding the tears and depth of emotion in that meeting, seeing his Kerrianne for the first time in years, almost a grown woman yet still, essentially, his quiet little girl. Juice had met Fiona before when she’d visited Chibs in hospital after the car bomb, but that didn’t prepare him for the power of this encounter.
Juice first noticed it properly when they were sat around the clubhouse. Chibs was lodged between his wife and daughter, an audience of various Irish brothers converged around them regaling tales of a shared past. The talk was thick and fast, Irish and Scottish brogues entwining, laughter escaping loud and freely while spirits, both theirs and the liquid variety, flowed easily. Juice was sitting a way back at the bar, observing, with a strangely unfamiliar feeling knotting his stomach. That was when he realised he was jealous. For a start he didn’t understand why, but as he thought more it dawned on him that he felt envious of the fact that these people had a shared history that he would never be part of. He was watchful and mistrustful of them, felt overly protective of Chibs. This was his best friend, the person he knew best in the world, and he had no link with him here in this place. In Belfast he had no bond or connection to the man he had come to rely on so heavily. His feelings and affection for this man who had looked out for him, given him words of encouragement and reassurance when he needed them, went far deeper than he’d realised before.
Seeing Chibs with Fiona, watching them share private conversations, secret smiles, old jokes and stories, sent his jealousy into overdrive. He knew it was irrational. He liked Fiona. He was glad that his friend had this opportunity to rekindle his broken relationship with a wife and daughter that he loved so much. He was grateful that Chibs had been given this chance to put some demons to bed, to right some terrible wrongs, to be happy for a while. It was long overdue. Yet for Juice, it was the loneliest he’d felt since he’d joined the club. He felt cast aside, lost and alone. Fiona could take Chibs away from him. If she wanted to, she could destroy his lifeline, because, it seems, that’s how Juice had started to see their friendship. It was with a heavy heart and a fatalistic perspective that he began to re-examine his relationship with his friend. It wasn’t sexual but there was an element of the physical in that Chibs had always been so tactile. There had always been hugs, slaps, arms around the shoulders, hands on the back of his neck, quick kisses to his head or cheek. Here, that felt alien to Juice. It felt like a secret they shouldn’t be revealing in front of these people. And Juice wanted it to be him that made Chibs smile and laugh, who brought that grin to his face, those crinkly lines to his eyes.
Juice felt proud when Chibs asked him to watch over Fiona and Kerrianne. He wanted to protect them and get to know them because they were part of a man, a brother and a father figure that he loved and respected. And he did get to know them. Fiona, scary and volatile as she was, spoke to him about Chibs, asked how he was doing and whether he was looking after himself. She asked Juice to look out for him when they got back, to make sure he didn’t get himself killed. He laughed with Kerrianne, gently mocking her, bringing her out of her protective shell. Yet when Chibs was with them, he felt small, irrelevant, out of place. He felt as if he didn’t belong.
Juice draws himself back to the present and tries to surmise his current thoughts.
“I guess that was the start of it for me. If you’d asked me then, I wouldn’t have been able to define it. I wouldn’t have thought it was the start of what it’s become. But realising how jealous I was of Fiona then, how lonely I felt even when you were in the same room because it was different, it just made me think. I wanted that history with you, I wanted to be the one you told stories about to make people laugh. I wanted to be the one to put that smile back on your face, Chibbie. Sounds stupid, I bet?”
“Nay lad, not stupid. I never knew. I was so grateful to ye over there, for looking after my girls. I wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it for me. And truth be told, it was never the same between me and Fi. We tried to make it like it used to be but there was too much space between us. I’ll always love her as the mother of my girl, and for herself in a lot of ways, but we both realised we can’t go back.”
“I’ve never said the words before. I mean I said them to my Mom and sister when I was a kid, and to the guys of course, but I’ve never been in love, so I’ve never meant it that way, but I mean it now….”
Juice pauses, partly for effect, mainly because he’s petrified. But he remembers the way the conversation started, the intimate whispers and touches that led them to this point. He remembers Chibs’ uncertainty and self-doubt. He remembers his own feelings of being isolated, lost and alone during their time in Belfast, and how found and healed he feels now.
“I love you, Chibbie. Love you so much, babe.”
Chibs’ doubts and fears melt away. He’s sure they’ll re-surface at times, but he’s okay with that. For now, he knows that Juice will need his own reassurances. He’s just confessed his feelings for the first time and he recognises that will sit heavily on him, not because of the disclosure itself, but because of his misgivings that anyone could love him back.
“Ah, Juicy sweetheart. I love ye too, darlin’.”
As they finally drift off to sleep, still wrapped tightly together, Chibs knows that he can help him with that.