Board Meeting in Heaven

Set in heaven, this is a board meeting with Sons of Anarchy characters based on religious characters discussing cuts to services.

Clay                       God
Jax                         Judas Iscariot
Chibs                     John the Baptist
Juice                      Jesus
Tig                        Satan
Bobby                   Holy Ghost
Happy                   Grim Reaper
Opie                      St. Peter
Piney                    Angel Gabriel
Gemma                 Mary
Tara                      Joan of Arc
Unser                    Moses




God bangs the gavel, bringing the meeting to order.

God (Clay): Okay people, let’s get started. There’s an episode of Sons of Anarchy I want to see at 9pm, so I need to be away by 8.45pm at the latest. Want to get me some more insight on dealing with all this disorder we’ve got going on. We’ve got too many people starting to think they can run this place with their own political ideology. Freedom of the individual is not an option. We’ve got to curb this now.

Moses (Unser): Hang on a minute, these commandments we live by, they’re sacrosanct. You know that, right? You can’t just change them to suit yourself. We’ve all got to live together. We’re not above the law here.

God (Clay): Erm, yeah, I think you’ll find we are. I gave those commandments to you, Moses.   Anyway, I’m not saying we change them on earth, just up here where it affects us. We run Heaven, always have done. You’ve been in my pocket for years. That’s what’s kept us straight, you and me, doing what we do, for the good of our charming home.

Moses (Unser): I ain’t in nobody’s pocket, God. I’ve just learnt over the years to work with you, turn a blind eye for an eye occasionally. What exactly are you asking of me?

God (Clay): I’m asking nothing. But you’ll do well to remember who put you where you are. You got a problem with any of this, let’s you and me take it outside.

Moses visibly shrinks into his pew, his voice catching.

Moses (Unser): I got no problem. Just need to be sure we’re singing from the same hymn sheet here. If there are no proposed changes to the rules we’re all good.

God (Clay): Okay, good. We’ll start with apologies. Anyone heard from anyone who can’t be here tonight?

John the Baptist (Chibs): Aye, St Jude, patron saint for lost causes is off on some wild goose chase trying to sort out miracles for a queue of people at the pearly gates. He’s also pissed off at always being mistaken for Judas Iscariot so he said he couldn’t be arsed to keep trying to explain to ye all that he’s the good guy, not the nasty bastard who betrayed Jesus.

Judas Iscariot (Jax): Bit harsh ain’t it? Betrayal’s a subjective word. There was never any evidence to back up that accusation, and nobody ever found those 30 pieces of silver I was supposed to have got for it!

Judas Iscariot looks towards Jesus and gives him a derisive grin

Jesus (Juice): Look, did you all see that? John, babe, did you see that? He smirked at me! I swear, he’s always accusing me of betrayal, but he just doesn’t see it in himself. I want that recorded in the minutes.

John the Baptist (Chibs): Aye, lad. I saw it. Don’t worry, darlin’. He’s not gonna hurt ye again, I’ll see to that, boy.

God (Clay): Jesus Christ, we’ve not even started yet. Can we get on with it please? Holy Ghost, are you minuting this meeting?

Holy Ghost (Bobby): I am indeed, God.

God (Clay): Thank you Holy Ghost. And thank you John for passing on that message from St Jude. Any more apologies?

St Peter (Opie): Yay, St Christopher’s off on his Harley somewhere. I saw him burning rubber, just as I turned into Chapel. He asked me to leave the key for the gates for when he comes back later on.

Holy Ghost (Bobby): Just because he’s patron saint of travellers, that guy thinks he can come and go as he pleases. We could really have done with his input tonight. Maybe we look at reducing his travel allowances? His mileage claims have been astronomical recently. Let’s get him off the road and in the office a bit more.

God (Clay): Noted. And agreed. All in favour?

All: Yay

God (Clay): Passed. Moving on. As you know, we’ve called this meeting tonight to look at the dire financial position we find our heaven in. Government cuts have blighted us over the last few years, but this year the spending reviews are crippling. It’s the only thing on the agenda, so I’d like to get straight to it.

Mary (Gemma): I’ve got some ‘any other business’ I’d like to bring up afterwards.

God sends Mary a quick wink, seen by everyone.

God (Clay): Duly noted, Mary. Let’s get started. As this is an addition to our normal monthly meetings, I’ve taken the liberty of inviting a few extras along who may be able to help with some fund raising or cost cutting ideas. Welcome Ladies. And Moses. In light of this, I think it’d be useful if everyone could introduce themselves and give a brief overview of their role. I’ll start. I’m God, I rule this place. My will be done.

Judas Iscariot (Jax): Hi, I’m Judas. I’m one of the 12 disciples, originally meant to support and follow Jesus, then single handedly responsible for creating the situation that directly led to the crucifixion and ultimate resurrection.

Jesus (Juice): Jesus Christ, Son of God, doer of miracles, founder of the church, died by crucifixion and rose from the dead. And yeah, that arsehole was the one that got me nailed to the cross.

Mary (Gemma): Hi, I’m Mary, mother of Jesus and blessed virgin.

Snorts of laughter ensue from around the table.

Mary (Gemma): I’ll have you know I was a good, God-fearing girl you judgemental fucks! The Mighty One did great things for me. So I’ve read.

God chuckles under his breath.

God (Clay): You were so full of sin you little jezabel. Immaculate conception, my arse!

Mary flashes a sultry smile his way. Moses clears his throat to move things along.  

Moses (Unser): Ahem. Hello. I’m Moses. Religious leader and lawgiver. Scriber of the 10 commandments, God’s police. Parter of seas, and advocate for slaves.

St Peter (Opie): Evening. St Peter, former fisherman, apostle, keeper of the keys to the kingdom and guard of the pearly gates.

Grim Reaper (Happy): Hey everyone. I’m Grim Reaper. Killer. Soul collector. Greatest job in the universe. People have to die. A LOT.

Joan of Arc (Tara): I’m Joan of Arc, heroine of France, burnt at the stake but proved innocent 25 years later. Not pissed about that at all!

Angel Gabriel (Piney): Angel Gabriel. Messenger sent from God to deliver prophecies. Official tequila taster. Nice to see you again Mary, long time no see!

Mary nods in response.

John the Baptist (Chibs): John the Baptist, preacher, prophet and baptiser. Foreteller of the coming of Jesus. Often maker of the coming of Jesus. And he is beautiful when he comes.

Jesus reddens slightly and a small smile glides over his angelic face. There’s nothing angelic about that mouth, thinks John, squirming in his seat.

Satan (Tig): Satan. How d’ya do, all? Bringer of evil and temptation, and lover of all things sin related.

God (Clay): Thanks everyone. Okay, on to the main matter at hand. We’ve already made a decision to quash mileage rates for St Christopher. Does anyone have any more efficiency saving or fund raising ideas?

Holy Ghost (Bobby): We could save a bit on bread and wine – Christ, every time we have a communion it costs us a bleeding fortune. And as for feeding the 5,000, we can’t carry on using that sting. As a hustle it’s wearing a bit thin. People are starting to see through this so called miracle and we just don’t have the stock left to keep pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes. I think we need to make people responsible for their own food.   As long as we’ve got enough here for our own needs, food responsibility should be taken away from the board.

St Peter (Opie): I’d agree with that. There are plenty of do-gooders coming through the gates who will open up a foodbank or two for the needy. Foodbanks are the way forwards. It’s what the leaders downstairs are saying.

Angel Gabriel (Piney): Yeah, that’s the message I’m getting. The gap between rich and poor is widening the whole time. Everyone knows we have to cut services, this is the time to be drastic. We can blame it straight on the Governments.

St Peter (Opie): That’s right Pops. Ooops, Gabe. The blowback won’t be on us.

God (Clay): Right then. All in favour of banning communion bread and wine and getting out of the food business?

All: Yay.

God (Clay): That’s a good start. But it only scrapes at the surface of the problem. What we really need is to reduce the number of referrals to heaven. Grim Reaper, what’s your take on this?

Grim Reaper (Happy): No, not an option. My role is to kill off those on earth. You talking about making me redundant?

Holy Ghost (Bobby): Not redundant, but maybe you could scale back a bit? Be a bit more choosy about who you end down there? Cut backs, Grim. We’ve all got to make sacrifices, there are posts being deleted.

Grim Reaper (Happy): I’m not happy about this, not one little bit. It’s all there in my job description. I don’t give a shit about what goes on up here, and it’s not my decision who gets in to heaven and who goes to hell. I just do the killin’. I love my job.

Holy Ghost (Bobby):  Have you read your new job description Grim?  It may be in the original, but you might have to look at comparability and get it re-written to include murder and torture.

St. Peter (Opie): Maybe I could get a bit stricter on who we let in. If we raise the thresholds a bit and turn a few more away, we might be able to manage things better up here. How would that sit with your lot down below, Satan?

Satan (Tig): That’s fine with me. The more the merrier down there. When it starts to get a bit too crowded we just chuck a few in the fire pit.

Joan of Arc shudders, goose bumps rising over her body.

Joan of Arc (Tara): Seriously Satan? Do you have any sensitivity at all for what people have been through? Empathy? Understanding? Consideration? No, all foreign concepts I guess for a corporate heathen like you!

Satan (Tig): I gotta say, the thought of those compassionate words terrifies me, but I’m totally erect right now.

God (Clay): Thanks for that image Satan. Don’t minute that Holy Ghost! You need any training to put that in place St Pete? Assertiveness training, difficult conversations, that sort of shit?

St Peter (Opie): No, I’ll be fine. I got this. But on that point, I think we need to look at the training budget in a bit more detail.

Holy Ghost (Bobby): Good idea. What sort of shite are the training department offering at the moment?

Jesus (Juice): John the Baptist and I went on a mandatory management stimulation course last week. Not sure how the rest of you lot managed to get out of it?

Judas Iscariot (Jax): Because we avoid our emails like the plague of locusts the old man released back in the day, you conscientious prick.

Holy Ghost (Bobby): How was the course, Jesus? Any good?

Jesus (Juice): It was a pile of pants. Run by some dipstick from corporate paradise, got no idea what goes on in the real heaven. A four hour course for what they could have got through in ten minutes. The only decent thing was networking with Johnny. And does that shithead Judas get to call me a conscientious prick without being challenged?

John the Baptist (Chibs): Actually Jeezy-boy, the course was management simulation but always good to network with ye. Nothing like a bit of schmoosing and interaction with colleagues for purging the soul. And I think calling him shithead probably negates yer argument somewhat, darlin’.

Angel Gabriel (Piney): Which brethren are in the training team now? Anyone likely to kick up a fuss if we pull their funding?

Jesus (Juice): I think Paul’s still heading up the department – sanctimonious, holier-than-thou saint that he is. And just a couple of prophets through whom God reveals truth, and teachers who explain the truth of God’s words.

Angel Gabriel (Piney): God’s truths? Now there’s a unique concept! And maybe if God had a bit less to say…….

Moses (Unser): Careful Gabe, you’d be out of a job for a start.   But maybe we could lose the prophets and teachers. That’d save us a bit. Just leave St Paul to manage himself. 

God (Clay): Sounds like a plan. If we leave the head of department there, we can’t be accused of slashing the whole team. And any more quips like that Gabe and we’ll be looking at retiring you.

Angel Gabriel (Piney): Couldn’t give a shit. Just know that there’s no way in this heaven that we’re watering down the tequila. That’ll be over my dead body.

God (Clay): That could be arranged, old man.

Moses (Unser): Thou shalt not kill, God. Remember that one?

Grim Reaper (Happy): Moses, you do talk some shit. That one better be written in my job spec. Kill, maim, hurt!

Angel Gabriel (Piney): You don’t scare me, oh God the hallowed one. Remember, I knew you when you were a snivelling kid, back in the days when we were fresh and idealistic, not worn down by years of your lies and deceit. You were supposed to lead us not into temptation.

God (Clay): Shut it, old man. I swear one of these days I really will clip your wings, with a bullet right through the middle of them. Vote people please – all those in favour of losing the prophets and teachers?

All: Yay.

John the Baptist (Chibs): That’s the ones in the training department though, not me is it? I’m a prophet.

Jesus (Juice): Ah no, Johnny. We couldn’t get rid of you. I need you too much, babe.

Judas Iscariot (Jax): Come on boys, can we move it on a bit. Some of us have some betraying to do!

Jesus (Juice): Don’t you think you’ve done enough yet? Shame you’re not as good at money saving ideas.

Judas Iscariot (Jax): Jesus, Jesus, you’re the hacker extraodinaire. Can’t you just hack in to the banks and put a few noughts on our current account balance?

Jesus (Juice): It’s not that easy you douchebag. Firstly, if we want to do any decent, regular hacking we need to invest in some new equipment. I know for all you old men a decent laptop is a bit of a leap, but really, Amstrad computers the size of a wardrobe went out with the Ark. In fact, I think Noah’s got better communication and internet connection through his carrier pigeons than we have. Secondly, even with updated media systems you still can’t hack into tablets of stone. We need a whole new set up covering banking, security, law enforcement and business systems, and an update on all the peripherals. Then I might be able to hack into the financial systems.

John the Baptist (Chibs): That sounds reasonable to me. Ye have to speculate to accumulate, eh sweetheart? I’d happily back young Jeezy-boy with a bit of new equipment. I’m more than willing to give him whatever backing he needs.

Jesus (Juice): Gee, thanks Johnny, happy to be backed by you, whenever you fancy. In fact, I’ve got some pretty good hardware solutions I could show you afterwards if you’re interested, back at my place?

Satan (Tig): Keep it going lads. Still erect here!

Jesus (Juice): Are we voting on that then?

God (Clay): We’re supposed to be saving money not spending it.

Judas Iscariot (Jax): Are you actually saying that you can make this work, Jesus? Because if you can, we might as well do it this way than faff about with heavenly bake offs, pin the tail on Mary’s donkey, or throwing wet sponges at Moses.

God (Clay): Okay, okay. All those in favour of updating computer systems and Jesus setting up a bit of fraud in the collection plate?

All: Yay.

Judas Iscariot draws Jesus in for a manly hug and a kiss to his cheek. As he does so, he whispers menacingly:

Judas Iscariot (Jax): This is how you earn the trust back, Jesus. Do it and we’re even. Fuck it up and I’ll kill you. 

God (Clay): That about wraps it up for financial issues, fraud, deception and scamming it is. Over to Mary for any other business.

Mary (Gemma): Okay you cretins. The only reason I came here tonight is to try and get my boy re-instated. They were switched at birth God dammit. You only have to look to see. My beautiful blonde little Judas Iscariot, who’s been accused of selling out his brothers. How can you even think that this Hispanic imposter Jesus could be my son?

Jesus (Juice): Really, Mom? That old nugget again? And people wonder why I’ve got attachment issues.

Mary (Gemma): Oh come on, Jesus. Your parentage has always been an issue, and you’ve played on it as much as anyone when it’s suited you. You’re quick enough to deny your father’s biological imprint.

Jesus (Juice): That’s because my father wasn’t that waste of space carpenter from Nazareth. It’s enough that you tried to convince everyone you were a Goddam virgin. God is my father. Joseph was just another pawn in your web of deceit and lies. You screwed me over good and proper when Herod found that little gem twisted up in my DNA.

John the Baptist (Chibs): Ah Jesus, sweetheart. I’ve told ye, laddie. If Herod keeps giving ye grief, ye tell him to suck yer Daddy’s big black cock. It only matters what yer birth certificate says, and if that names Joseph, then yer safe. Herod can’t do a damned thing to prove yer the son of God.

Mary (Gemma): Too right he can’t, because you’re no son of mine. God can deny it all he likes, but I know the truth. He couldn’t keep his hands off me, fucked me good and proper, got me up the duff, then went off on his merry way, left me pregnant, to ride to Bethlehem on that flaming donkey.

Judas Iscariot (Jax): Is this true? You’re my mother? And he’s my father? Jesus Christ….. Mom…….? You didn’t think this was important to tell me?

Jesus (Juice): Look, will y’all at least stop using my name in vain. All this blaspheming is getting confusing.

Satan (Tig): Hell yeah. I’m lost. Can someone tell me what the fuck’s going on here? There may be some people in this room by mistake who should be wallowing in the fire and brimstone downstairs. That’ll be a great efficiency saving, it’s sooo much more expensive housing people up here than it is down there.

Jesus reaches across the table for John the Baptist’s hands and holds tight, fear gripping his face.

Mary (Gemma): It’s perfectly simple. God, surprise surprise, let his big dick rule his head one night and managed to knock me up. He couldn’t face his responsibilities so came up with this cock and bull idea that I should marry Joseph. I had a torrid time of it at the birth, no hospitalisation, and certainly no decent drugs, but God had a crisis of conscience and switched the babies at birth to protect his own son from that perv Herod who was the only one who believed me, and was determined to kill the son of God. As it was he fucked that up and left me with this Hispanic imposter while God hid Judas away – took him away from the mother who loved him.

Judas Iscariot (Jax): God?…. Dad?…… Is this true? I’m your son? Is that why you’ve always looked out for me?

Jesus (Juice): Dad? You’re not my father? And you left me to die at the hands of Herod? How could you do that to me?

Tears are rolling down Jesus’ face.

John the Baptist (Chibs): Jeezy-boy, don’t fret lad, I’m here for ye. Ye still got me.

God (Clay): Look, it’s complicated. DNA was just so expensive in those days. But yes, it’s true. I knocked Mary up and then switched the two of you at birth. Judas Iscariot is my real son.

Holy Ghost (Bobby): I think technically, you’ll find that Jesus, or in this case Judas, was conceived from myself, although the bible story is floored when it insists that he was born of a virgin named Mary!

Mary (Gemma): Careful you old goat!

Jesus (Juice): So who the fuck am I? Who’s my Daddy?

Satan (Tig): I’m really tempted to just fuck with your head and say John the Baptist, but actually, the truth might fuck with you more. I think I might be your Daddy.

Jesus (Juice): Jesus Christ.

Angel Gabriel (Piney): It’s true boy. Another one of those secrets that God here tried to bury. But St Moninna from Ireland, a good friend of John the Baptist and St Patrick, sent me some letters confessing all, that she’d done some sort of deal with the devil before she set up her community of virgins.

Jesus (Juice): Johnny, babe? You knew about this?

John the Baptist (Chibs): I never knew for sure, sweetheart. But it’s why I’ve always been there for ye. Always had yer back, in both the figurative and biblical sense. I knew yer Ma, and I suspected that it was Satan who had dishonoured her.

Satan (Tig): What can I say? You all know I can’t resist defiling and corrupting the odd virgin.

John the Baptist (Chibs): Jeezy-boy. I’m sorry I never told ye, darlin’, but I always kept an eye on ye when God used ye to save his real son. Please forgive me, sweetheart?

Jesus (Juice): I forgive you, babe. It’s God that I can’t forgive. I’ve always thought of him as my father, always tried to make him proud of me. And he’s used me.

God (Clay): Jesus Christ, don’t be such a wuss. I always treated you like my son. Did miracles for you and all sorts, even if you did fuck up all the time!

Joan of Arc (Tara): Judas. Baby, I know we’ve kept our “relationship” quiet for years, but if you’re really the son of God, I think we might have a problem. Your “mother” is a controlling bitch and I’m not sure I can live with that. And your “father”, he sanctioned for me to burn at the stake at nineteen. Nineteen for fuck’s sake. I was just a child. How could any God do that? The pain and suffering he caused me….

Satan (Tig): Really, darlin’? Why are you not over that yet? It’s an honourable way to die, even got my own daughter the same way.

Joan of Arc (Tara): Look, I was noble. I was pure. It bloody hurt! And being dead obviously put paid to my career. But really Judas. Our boys, that we’ve kept secret from everyone, we can’t bring them up here, this place is toxic. Our Cain and Abel will end up killing themselves or each other.

Judas Iscariot (Jax): Joan darlin’, we can sort this out. I know you have that job offer from up North, but we can make this work. I will handle my mother, I promise. If it’s my destiny to sit at the head of this table, I won’t let it ruin us. Please, let me just stay until this place is back on its feet, then I promise you we’ll leave and start afresh. I’ve got so much more betraying to do, I have to stay for a while.

Mary (Gemma): Wait a minute. I have Grandbabies? God, we have grandbabies together. How old are they? Who looks after them when you’re at work? What are they like? When do I get to meet them?

Joan of Arc (Tara): Oh for fuck’s sake. Here we go already!

God (Clay): ENOUGH. QUIET. All of you. I’m still in charge here. We’re supposed to be trying to save money. All we’ve done is spend a shit load more on IT crap and then open the closet on all the office gossip and family skeletons. Let’s go see St Paddy and his Irish cronies, to see if we can’t do a deal on some AKs and rocket launchers. We should get a good family discount now we know he knew Jesus’ Mom. We can sell ‘em on for a massive profit to some unsuspecting disciples. All those in favour?

All: Yay

They all rise from the table and retire to the bar to turn water into tequila and whiskey.

Continue reading


Swings and Roundabouts

This is a prequel to my story Give and Take.
It takes place around seasons 3 and 4 starting with when the group are released from Stockton after 14 months.
The story explores the start and development of the relationship between Chibs & Juice. There are some changes to the original story and timeline, but it makes sense in my head!
Language – yes, this is SoA! Some sexual content.
Characters belong to Mr S, I’ve just borrowed them to mess it around a bit.
Would love to hear what you think of it if you want to leave a comment.

Chapter 1: Reflections

It’s a memory that evokes so many emotions, a photograph in time that transcends the absolute dichotomy that is Juice, the idiot fool and comic prankster who, at the same time, is so much more. More giving and kind, more intelligent and insightful, more everything than anyone gives him credit for. Chibs remembers fondly the vision of Juice dressed only in a diaper and his boots, a cardboard sign stapled to his chest offering the retarded child for adoption, and a pacifier taped in his mouth. Duct tape. Who’d have thought that’s one more thing it’s perfect for?


Tig and Bobby had dressed him, or technically undressed him, after he’d passed out on sleeping pills he’d mistaken for speed, and they’d found him face down in a puddle of his own dribble under the pool table. It might have been Chibs who’d suggested they leave him comatosed in the middle of town to be found by the local Feds, and they’d all collapsed with laughter when they spied from afar and watched an incredulous Hale nudge him with a wary foot and move Juice along as he finally came to.


He can’t be sure but Chibs thinks that’s when his infatuation with the boy had first started. There’s no denying that the lad’s taut body could elicit appreciative glances from many a watchful eye, and that he’s probably the only brother, save Jax, who could possibly have come out of the situation with looks of admiration alongside the ridicule. But for Chibs, that episode gave him far more to dwell on than the firmness of Juice’s body, the defined contours of his abs, the tone of his skin and the brightness of his joyous, if embarrassed smile. What Chibs most remembers is a feeling of awe and respect that the crazy, stupid fool was able to take the jibes, laugh at himself and return to his brothers without a trace of bitterness or resentment at the stunt they’d pulled on him. He took it in such good grace, far more generous of spirit than any of the rest of them would have been. Chibs knew then that that kind of self-effacing humility made the boy special. Special in a way that he’s never quite got out of his system.

Continue reading

The First Time

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.

Give and Take

Based on Sons of Anarchy.  A shameless fix for series7 with a bit of poetic licence on my part with the timeline. It’s not that I didn’t love Sutter’s storytelling, but always hoped that Chibs would save Juicy.
Spoilers for series 7, including the biggie, the secret of all secrets!
Some swearing.

Explicit sexual content.

Dislcaimer:  All characters and main story line belongs to Sons of Anarchy creator Kurt Sutter. 

Chapter 1: An Equal Exchange

It’s not the first time Chibs has been in a less than jovial mood. He’s not known so much for his sunny disposition, more for his sarcasm, mockery and a healthy contempt for the majority of the human race. He might even be offended to be described as somewhat less than a people person, surprised that his brand of charm isn’t more widely appreciated. He’s been through some serious shit though, and Juice knows the impact of that sits hard in his core, usually safely gagged, filed away under ‘pending’. Continue reading