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Passion In His Heart, Reason In His Mind

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I

Juan Carlos sat on a barstool. He watched the doors to the chapel, waiting for them to open. He was just trying not to look like he was watching. His leg bounced violently on the rung of the stool.

He’d made it a year as a prospect. He looked Puerto Rican, even if he couldn’t speak Spanish. If he got patched in, there’d be no more scrutiny and they’d never find out about his fucking deadbeat father.

The doors opened. Juan Carlos sat up straighter. Chibs appeared, expressionless.

“Juan Carlos,” he called. When he jerked his head toward the interior of the chapel, Juan Carlos leaped from the stool.

The patched members of SAMCRO sat at the table; they didn’t look at him. Juan Carlos almost couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in his ears.

He glanced over his shoulder when he felt Chibs’ hands on the collar of his kutte. Juan reluctantly let the black leather slide down his arms. He watched Chibs lay the kutte out on the table and pull out one of his wicked-looking knives.

Juan Carlos swallowed hard when Chibs cut away the prospect patches from both the front and back of the leather. He was just about to turn and leave when Jax stood from his place across the table.

Jax held out a full sized reaper patch. Juan’s eyes widened. He choked out a relieved laugh and took the embroidered skull from the V.P., now his V.P.

Chibs handed him his kutte and pulled him into a fierce hug. “Congratulations, Juan Carlos.”

The lump in his throat made it impossible for him to do anything except nod his thanks to the other members as they surrounded him with their congratulations.

Tig and Chibs dragged him into the main clubhouse, arms around his shoulders. Finally, Juan Carlos belonged somewhere.

Bobby opened the outside door and suddenly the room was full of Crow Eaters. They carried food and booze. It was going to be a fucking good celebration.

A woman with dark hair and wearing a tiny leather dress came up to Juan Carlos. She held up a little sewing kit. “Help you with that?” she asked with a smile.

Chibs and Tig both pushed him forward - not that Juan Carlos needed much encouragement to follow her. She had a fine ass.

Hours later, he had the Crow Eater in his lap and was drinking J.D. straight out of the bottle. Across the room, Chibs shouted. It took him several tries before Juan Carlos realized Chibs was shouting his name.

“Fuck it,” Chibs yelled. “Juan Carlos is too fuckin’ hard to say.” His brogue wrapped awkwardly around the vowels of Juan’s name. “J.C. From now on, we’re callin’ you J.C.”

Juan Carlos didn’t give a fuck. He was a patched-in member of the Sons of Anarchy. He pressed himself into the chair back so he could feel the thickness of the reaper newly sewn to the back of his kutte. If SAMCRO wanted to call him J.C., he’d fucking answer to it.

II

Chibs handed Juan Carlos the almost empty bottle of Patron. It was their second. The pain in Juan Carlos’ back was a dull burn and his head was swimming.

The tattoo was only a quarter way done. They still had several hours to go. Juan Carlos finished off the tequila in a single swallow. The burn was nothing anymore.

Behind him, the buzz of the needle started up again. Juan Carlos breathed out at the sharp, stinging pain on his skin.

He watched Chibs sit back in his chair. He propped his feet on the table next to Juan Carlos and took a third bottle of Patron out of a bag.

“Gonna be a long fuckin’ day, Jay-cee boy,” Chibs said, prying out the cork. “I brought us plenty o’ sustenance.”

Hours later, the tat was finally done. They were both too drunk to ride but, fuck it; they did it anyway. Juan Carlos’ back was one big, sharp pain, and it got worse with every bounce of his bike’s suspension. The tequila didn’t help very much.

Juan Carlos didn’t care. His fucking reaper was permanently inked into his skin.

He expected Chibs to ride off when they reached Juan Carlos’ apartment. It was a surprise when he didn’t.

Instead, he came inside and started to help Juan Carlos take off his clothes. It was weird at first, having a guy do what his mom used to do. Back when he was a kid, anyway. It was nice, though, the way Chibs took care of him. He was careful and he didn’t make stupid jokes. It didn’t seem like he even looked at Juan Carlos’ junk when he was naked.

Chibs gently pushed him face down onto the bed. Juan Carlos lay down, even though he was confused. He jumped a little, when he felt Chibs touch him. Juan Carlos figured out he was just checking the dressings so he relaxed. The bed was soft and comfortable and Chibs’ fingers were confident and gentle. He couldn’t ever tell anybody he liked this, they’d think he was a pussy.

Chibs dragged his fingertips down Juan Carlos’ side and it made him shiver. It didn’t tickle exactly. When Chibs rubbed at the muscles in Juan Carlos’ neck, he moaned. It was so fucking embarrassing, even though Chibs pretended he didn’t hear. It felt really good and Juan Carlos finally let himself relax.

Except his dick started to get hard. Juan Carlos ignored it. If he stayed on the bed, Chibs would never know.

When Chibs dug his thumbs into the muscles at Juan Carlos’ shoulders, Juan Carlos closed his eyes and sighed. Fuck it, he even rubbed his cock against the sheets.

He probably fell asleep ‘cause next thing he knew, Chibs was talking. “I’ll be by in the mornin’ to check on ya and help with your dressins,” he said, running a hand over Juan Carlos’ hair.

“Yeah, okay,” Juan Carlos said into his pillow. He was so fucking tired but he needed to rub one out before he could sleep.

He felt a kiss on the back of his head and suddenly he was wide awake. After Chibs left, Juan Carlos sat up - cause his back fucking hurt - and jacked himself off. Thinking about hot chicks and big tits didn’t get him off.

Remembering Chibs’ fingers on his skin did.

Just like he promised, Chibs was back first thing the next morning. Juan Carlos was fucking impressed he wasn’t hung over. Fucking Irish. Or Scotsman. Or whatever the fuck Chibs was.

“Let’s see it, Jay-cee boy,” Chibs said, gesturing at Juan Carlos’ back.

He let himself be pushed around until he was in a chair, shirtless. Chibs produced a bottle of Keri lotion from somewhere.

The burning pain had gotten better during the night. Now the tat was just sore to the touch. Chibs’ fingers on his bare skin were warm and soothing. As Chibs rubbed the lotion into the fresh ink, Juan Carlos felt his tense muscles relax. He liked having Chibs touch him and that was just fucked up.

Chibs started at Juan Carlos’ shoulders, pressing with his thumbs. He rubbed in circles, working the lotion into the skin. Juan Carlos pushed back against the pressure and couldn’t stop his groan. His skin felt cooler where Chibs applied the lotion. When Chibs got a really tight muscle to finally relax, Juan Carlos sighed and let his head fall forward between his shoulders.

The center of his back ached a little when Chibs’ palms started to rub in the lotion. Juan Carlos’ skin felt warmer there, compared to the spots that had already been treated. He could just barely feel the calluses on Chibs’ hands and they scratched lightly along his sensitive skin.

Juan Carlos thought Chibs would stop when he reached the lower edge of the tat, but he didn’t. Instead, Chibs pressed his fingers hard into the muscles of Juan Carlos’ lower back. It felt really fucking good.

Christ, did that sound just come out of him?

Behind him, Chibs chuckled softly. Juan Carlos shivered when Chibs dragged his blunt nails up his sides. He felt Chibs’ warm lips press against a spot on the back of his head, just below his Mohawk.

Juan Carlos froze. His heart slammed against his ribs.

“You’re all set, Jay-cee,” Chibs said, pulling away.

Juan Carlos suddenly felt cold.

As the tattoo healed, Chibs started to wear latex gloves to rub the lotion into Juan Carlos’ back. The tat was scabbed and sloughing skin, so it made sense, but Juan Carlos still missed the feel of Chibs’ skin on his own.

III

Juan Carlos came out of the john and saw Tig stretched out on the bar, a Crow Eater riding his cock. He didn’t see Clay or Jax around anywhere, but Bobby Elvis was in a chair across the room, a woman’s head bobbing over his lap.

“Hey, Jay-cee boy.” The voice slurred his nickname drunkenly.

Juan Carlos turned to see Chibs slouched down in a booth, each arm draped over a Crow Eater. His eyes were heavy lidded and glassy. He was really fucked up.

“Was’ up?”

“I have here two very lovely ladies.” Chibs indicated the women pressed to his sides. “I see that you have none. May I offer you one of my fair companions?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“I insist. Would one o’ you lovely ladies like to take care o’ my good friend, Ju-cee?” Chibs asked, nudging each woman with his shoulders.

A blond with legs up to her neck peeled herself from Chibs’ side and crawled across the floor to where Juan Carlos stood. “Want me to suck your cock, baby?” she cooed, reaching for the fly of Juan Carlos’ jeans. “I’ll suck your juicy cock real good. Can I suck your juicy, juicy cock?”

Chibs laughed, low and rough. “Yeah, Juicy, let the lady suck your cock.”

Juice stood like his feet were nailed to the floor as a hot, wet mouth wrapped around his fast-growing erection. He watched the second Crow Eater slide between Chibs’ legs and start to move her head over his crotch.

When Juice looked up, he saw Chibs watching him. He expected Chibs to look away, but he didn’t.

Neither did Juice.

IV

Juice was at the bar, hunched over his beer. He was listening to the dickhead prospects behind him talking.

“I heard he got ‘em when a bomb he was setting went off early,” said one of the retards.

“Nah, he got ‘em when the Belfast cops arrested him. They cut him to send a message to the rest of the IRA,” the second prospect said.

Juice snorted quietly. There was no fucking way in hell either of those guys was gettin’ patched in.

“It’s called a Glasgow Smile.”

Juice spun on his stool, surprised to hear Jax’s voice. The prospects both watched the V.P., mouths hanging open stupidly.

“That’s what they call it when you cut someone from lip to ear on both cheeks,” Jax kept talking, circling the bitchy prospects. “Another IRA member cut Chibs, stole his family and banished him from Ireland.”

“Those nasty knives he carries?” Juice was surprised to hear himself say. “That’s where he gets his name. He’s really fuckin’ good with those knives.”

Jax leaned in toward the prospects, looking scarier than Juice had ever seen him. “If you’re gonna talk about a club member, make sure you get your facts straight.”

Jax left the clubhouse with a slam of the door. Juice turned back to his beer.

Nope, neither of those fuckin’ morons was gettin’ a patch.

V

Juice was face down on the table as Tara stitched up his leg. The room was quiet, except for the sounds of the three of them breathing. Across the room, Chibs stood, arms folded over his chest, watching Juice closely.

Juice could almost forget what had happened the last few days; how he’d gotten shot and why, if it wasn’t for Chibs watching him like he knew.

This whole thing reminded Juice of that night he and Chibs had tried to keep Cameron Hayes alive while they waited for Jax to come back with Tara. Together, they’d gotten a bullet out and kept him from bleeding to death.

Juice knew the reason Chibs was here now - the reason he always helped Tara to patch people up - was what they’d talked about that night. Chibs’ five months as a British Army Medic, until he’d been court marshaled.

Trouble was, Chibs wasn’t helping Tara; he was watching Juice.

Everyone had treated Juice like a fucking hero for killing Miles. They thought he’d caught the rat. Nobody knew Juice was really the rat. But Chibs was looking at him like he might be figuring it out.

Juice wanted to tell him. Part of him wanted to come clean to Chibs. Part of him wanted to tell Chibs about his lousy fucking deadbeat father and the fucking cops who were using that info to turn him traitor.

Another part of him was afraid of the anger and the disgust he’d see in Chibs’ face if he told the truth. The respect and admiration he’d seen on everybody else’s faces today was still too fresh, it felt too good. Juice wasn’t ready to see that go away.

He looked up at Chibs again. He was still watching, gaze cold and flinty. Juice felt like Chibs knew. But what did he know? He either thought Juice was a traitor and a thief, or he knew Juice was a traitor and black.

Any hope that Chibs might understand what Juice was going through died when they’d talked about the rules.

Juice was alone.

Tara’s hands were gentle as she put the bandage over the stitches. “Do you have someone to stay with you? Change the dressing?” she asked softly.

“I’ll look after him,” Chibs said before Juice could reply.

“Good. That’s good,” said Tara with a nod. “You know what to do, then.”

Juice expected Chibs to be rough with him, push him around a little getting him home and settled. Instead, Chibs was gentle; both his hands and his voice.

He didn’t let Juice shower. To protect the dressing, he made Juice take a bath.

Chibs shed his kutte and pulled off his gloves. He started the water running and turned to Juice.  “Let’s get you out o’ your clothes, Juicy.” His voice was low and a little hoarse. Chibs’ hands were firm as they tugged at Juice’s clothing.

“I can do this myself,” Juice said, even as he toed off his boots under Chibs’ orders.

“Shut up, Juice.” His words were sharp but his tone didn’t match.

“Chibs, come on, brah,” Juice protested, pushing at Chibs’ hands when they reached for the fly of his pants.

“You’ve had a rough day, boyo. It bothered you, what we had to do to Dirty Phil and Rat. You took a bullet for your club, but worst of all, brother; you killed a man you thought was a friend.”

Juice clenched his jaw to hold back the sob that threatened to break loose. He had killed a brother. His guilt was heavy. It was crushing; like Juice was pinned beneath his Dyna.

Chibs cradled Juice’s face between his rough hands and pressed a kiss to one of his tribal tats. “Take off the rest of your clothes and be mindful of your dressin’,” he said, stepping past Juice and into the hall.

Pain and mixed up feelings made Juice move slow. Chibs came back with a roll of plastic wrap. He shut off the water in the bathtub and turned around. Juice gasped when Chibs dropped to his knees in front of him.

“Hold still while I cover yer bandage,” said Chibs.

Juice tried. He was just too aware of how naked he was, Chibs kneeling in front of him, eye level with his cock. He steadied himself with a white-knuckled grip on the sink and willed himself not to get hard.

“There ya go,” announced Chibs. “Into the water with ya.”

The tub was small and made it easy to keep his wound out of the water. Juice kept the knee of his injured leg bent. He was grateful that it shielded his cock from Chibs’ view, cause it kept getting harder.

When he’d taken off his rig, his wallet chain and all of his rings, Chibs knelt beside the tub with a washcloth. He used it to squeeze water over Juice’s skin. It was warm and soothing; Juice started to relax in spite of himself.

“That’s it,” Chibs murmured. “Just let it go.”

Juice closed his eyes as Chibs cleaned the last of Miles’ blood from his face. He wanted to let it go. He wanted to confess to Chibs that he’d been the one who took the key of blow. If anyone would understand why the fuck Juice had to do what he did, it would be Chibs, wouldn’t it?

Sighing heavily, Juice closed his eyes. Chibs lathered up the washcloth and ran it over Juice’s chest. It felt really fucking good. The warm water and Chibs’ strong hands made Juice think it would be so easy.

“I love the club,” Juice blurted, blinking in surprise at his own words.

“I know ya do, brother,” Chibs replied, hands smoothing over Juice’s biceps. “Ya proved that today.”

Juice swallowed back bile. “I love all of you, too.”

“And we love you, Juicy.” Chibs’ hands were circling Juice’s belly.

“I’d die before I let something happen to any of you.”

Chibs’ hands stopped and he stared hard at Juice. His expression was the same as it was while Tara’d been working. “We know. I know. What’s this all about?”

Juice shut his eyes, clenched his jaw and shook his head. “Nothin’.”

Chibs’ hands skimmed up Juice’s ribs. “The things that were done to the prospects today; it’s ‘cause they’re prospects. You’re a patched member, Juice. Your word is good.”

Juice’s pulse throbbed in his temples. “I know that. I know. Is that why you came clean when Stahl was pressuring you to turn?”

He felt Chibs tense and he stopped moving. “Aye. I tried protecting my family and the club by giving Stahl information. But it didn’t work. In the end, I couldn’t trust the cops and I needed the club’s help.”

“Weren’t you scared we wouldn’t believe you?”

“O’ course I was. I’d given up intel on Jimmy O. You lot coulda believed I’d given up intel on SAMCRO, too.” Chibs sighed. “What’s this about, Juice?”

“Nothin’.”

Juice gasped and his eyes snapped open at the feel of Chibs’ strong hands grasping his head.

“Is this about Roosevelt singling you out?” Chibs’ demanded. “We know he’s just harassing you. Targeting you. He’s pokin’ ‘round in the dark, searchin’ for weakness.”

Juice swallowed hard. “Yeah … no … I know … it’s just …”

“It’s a tough one, Juicy, killin’ someone you know; someone you considered a friend.” Chibs’ expression softened. “And with Roosevelt draggin’ you in for a piss test every other day, it’s okay if you’re needin’ to lean on your brothers a bit more.”

Juice bit down on his lips. He was so fucking close to confessing everything. The trouble was, Chibs’ never gave Stahl information on SAMCRO.

Juice really did take the key.

He nodded his agreement, hoping Chibs would finally let this go.

“You just sit back and relax and let me take care of everything,” Chibs said, skimming his hands down Juice’s chest and belly.

Juice startled violently, splashing water over the edge of the tub, when he felt a hand wrap around his cock. “What the fuck?”

“Shh, shh,” Chibs soothed, stroking Juice slow but firm. “Just let me take care of you. It’ll make you feel so much better.”

“But … I don’t … I’m not …” Juice hadn’t thought Chibs was either. He was married, for fuck’s sake.

“It’s just a hand on your dick,” said Chibs calmly. “Just a bit o’ simple comfort.”

Juice admitted to himself it felt pretty fucking good. He pushed his hips up into Chibs’ fist, even as he tried to hold himself still. He shouldn’t like this, he shouldn’t want it. He groaned when Chibs’ squeezed him harder.

Maybe it really was just a hand on his dick. Nothing more.

But it was Chibs’ hand.

Juice realized his hips were flexing in time with the stroke of Chibs’ hand. The water moved in the tub, rolling up his belly and chest, threatening to spill over. He didn’t give a fuck. Juice pushed his dick into the tight grip.

“That’s it, Juicy,” Chibs whispered. “Let it go.”

It was fucking embarrassing how quick he started to come. Juice panted, his balls tingled and lifted toward his body. He gripped the sides of the tub and tried to hold it off, but his body wanted to come.

“Like that, don’t stop.” Juice was fucking begging now.

“I won’t stop. I gotcha.” Chibs whispered.

Something in Juice’s chest loosened as he fucked into Chibs’ fist. It was all good feelings and no worries. The water was warm on his cock and Chibs’ grip gave just the right friction. Juice felt like he was flying.

“Fuck,” he hissed as his cock exploded. He screwed his eyes shut so he didn’t have to see himself jizz all over Chibs’ hand. He wasn’t ready for that. Juice’s balls pulsed and his whole body shook as he came. He sucked in deep, shuddering breaths and wondered how long this was gonna go on.

When his muscles finally let go of him, Juice collapsed into the water. He was breathing like he’d just run a mile. He couldn’t stop shaking. At the same time, warmth was spreading through him, making him feel tired and relaxed.

“Now that’s better, ain’t it?” Chibs asked.

Juice opened his eyes and saw Chibs smile. “Yeah.”

“I’ll leave ya be to get cleaned up.” Chibs stood and dried his hands on a towel. “Shout if ya need anything.”

As the bathroom door closed, Juice was grateful for the sense of peace that settled over him.

Even if it didn’t last.

~*~

Juice stared hard at himself in the bathroom mirror. The dim light made him look haggard and sick. He looked like a rat.

He was a rat.

Talking to Chibs helped. Juice didn’t have to worry the club would strip his patch. He could tell Roosevelt and that crazy A.U.S.A. to go fuck themselves. He wouldn’t, though. If giving up the Irish would keep SAMCRO out of trouble with R.I.C.O., he’d do it.

Just like when Chibs had given up Jimmy O. to protect Fiona and Karianne.

Juice opened the tube of antibiotic ointment. He glanced at the angry, red mark on his neck. It looked worse. The ointment made it feel better. But applying it himself never felt as good as it had that first night, when Chibs had touched him with gentle fingers.

The doorbell rang.

Chibs.

It had to be Chibs. A part of Juice was expecting him, even after his brusque remark as they’d both left the john earlier that day.

 When Juice opened the door of his apartment, Chibs was leaning against the doorjamb.

“Hey.”

“Hey there, Juicy-boy.” Chibs didn’t wait for an invitation, he pushed his way into the apartment.

“Want a beer?” It seemed the least he could offer.

“Nah, I just came to make sure you’re taking care o’ that raspberry on your neck.” He headed straight for the bathroom.

“I’m good,” Juice protested, even as his breath caught at the thought of Chibs stroking his throat. “I can do it myself.”

“Well, I’m already here.” Chibs uncapped the ointment. “Strip off your shirt.”

Juice found himself settled on the closed lid of the toilet. He was staring at Chibs’ belly, totally fucking aware of how easy it would be to tilt his head down and put his mouth on Chibs’ fly. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to focus on how good the ointment felt on his throat.

It was all Juice could do not to sigh in disappointment when the feel of Chibs’ fingers left his throat.

“Let’s get you tucked up into bed,” Chibs said roughly.

Juice went reluctantly. He didn’t want to be put to bed with a pat on the head like he was a fucking kid. Chibs knelt beside him on the bed, shifting his weight like he was going to leave. Juice surprised himself by reaching out and wrapping a hand around Chibs’ belt.

“What, Juice? What do you need?”

Juice swallowed hard. “You.”

Chibs covered Juice’s hand with his own. “You don’t have to do this,” he said softly. “You’re still caught up in the feelings from our talk this afternoon.”

Juice tugged roughly on Chibs’ belt, pulling him off balance so he had to steady himself with a hand beside Juice’s head. “Feels like you been teasin’ me.”

Chibs’ expression softened slightly. “Nah. I’d never.”

“I feel like you’re the only person in the world who knows how I feel,” Juice blurted. “You get it, you understand, and you even stood up for me with Jax.”

“That’s my point …”

“I don’t want to explain myself to anyone. You already know all of it.”

“Juicy,” Chibs breathed, lowering himself onto the bed.

Juice wrapped his free hand around the back of Chibs’ neck. He pushed his fingers through Chibs’ hair.

He didn’t know what he’d expected, but Juice was surprised when they kissed. Chibs’ mouth was soft and warm. His rough whiskers tickled a little. Chibs tasted like Irish whiskey and cigarettes.

When he settled his weight over Juice, Chibs’ boots caught in the bedclothes. He couldn’t help it, Juice chuckled into the kiss.

Pulling back with a wet smack, Chibs’ said, “Fuck it. Get your clothes off.”

Juice froze. The mental picture of them naked, rubbing against each other, sent a surge of blood flooding painfully into his dick. It also scared the hell out of him.

Chibs knelt and took off his shirt then looked down at Juice, who hadn’t moved. “Christ,” he muttered angrily. “You started this shite.”

That pushed Juice into action. He shoved his track pants down over his hips. “Not used to actually getting something I want.”

Chibs’ grin was barely visible beneath his mustache. “We can fix that. Just what is it you’re wantin’, Juicy-boy?”

“I … I don’t …” All he knew was that he wanted his hands on Chibs’ chest, but he was struggling to unfasten Chibs’ belt.

Chibs took pity on Juice and stripped out of his clothes fast. Juice sighed against Chibs’ mouth when he felt warm skin glide against the length of his body.

He reached for Chibs’ cock and felt how hard he was. Chibs shifted, his hips moved out of reach. Juice expected to feel a calloused hand wrap around his aching dick. Instead, he felt Chibs slide down on the bed and push Juice’s thighs apart. He settled himself between them.

He’d thought they were gonna exchange hand jobs, then Chibs would get dressed again and slip out the door. Juice’s brain blew a fuse at the sight of Chibs sucking down his cock.

“Holy shit,” Juice gasped. He grabbed the sheets with both hands.

It felt as good as it looked. Chibs’ mouth was hot around his dick. He sucked hard. He fucking flicked his tongue in the slit and Juice thought that was gonna make him come. He wanted to grab Chibs’ hair. He wanted to shove up into Chibs’ mouth. He stayed in control, though.

Jesus. Chibs was sucking on him like he did this all the time. This was more than just a blowjob. Chibs was giving him something. Taking care of him. He’d never felt this way before. No one had ever tried to take this good of care of him before.

Warmth rolled through him and a tingling started in his spine. “Chibs,” he gasped in warning. “Hey, man.”

Chibs pulled off and grinned up at Juice. He dragged the back of his hand across his wet mouth. Chibs’ lips were so red and so swollen. For just a second, Juice wanted to lean up and kiss him again.

Chibs crawled up Juice’s body and lay down on top of him. He reached for the nightstand drawer and took out a long strip of condoms. “’At’s a good boy, Juicy,” he said with a chuckle. Chibs looked at the almost-full bottle of lube, then at Juice. He raised an eyebrow. “Something you haven’t been tellin’ me?”

“What?” Juice frowned in confusion. “Don’t tell me you enjoy beating off with a rough hand?”

Chibs sighed and lowered himself down. “Fuckin’ pussy,” he whispered against Juice’s mouth.

It felt strange, but it also felt good. Chibs was heavier – denser – than a woman felt on top. He felt solid and strong. The hair on his legs was coarse and his skin felt different from a woman’s, even though it was soft and smooth in places.

Something cool and slick pressed against Juice’s asshole and he started violently. “The fuck?” he gasped, pulling out of the kiss.

“Shhh, just relax and let me in,” Chibs murmured against Juice’s throat.

Juice’s entire body was tense. He pressed his hands against Chibs’ chest, ready to push him away. He hesitated. “This … no … can’t we just …?”

Chibs’ fingers gently circled his hole without trying to push in. “Juicy, I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Just let me take care of you.”

Juice relaxed slightly, closing his eyes at the feel of Chibs’ breath on the shell of his ear. The thought of giving up and letting it all go was tempting. But, like this? “What … what are you gonna do?”

“Gonna make you feel good,” Chibs’ breathed. “Make you forget what’s worryin’ you. Just let me do this for you.”

Juice knew Chibs would take good care of him. “Yeah, okay.”

Chibs’ finger pushed relentlessly into Juice’s hole. It burned. Juice squeezed his eyes shut and hissed. His muscles all locked up tight and he felt himself clench around Chibs’ finger.

“No, Juicy, breathe,” Chibs’ said, kissing along Juice’s jaw. “Relax. Just relax, Juicy-boy and let me in.”

Juice took several deep breathes. He didn’t want to disappoint Chibs. He told his muscles to relax. Chibs’ finger slid in deeper and the burn eased. The stretch was good. He felt Chibs sigh against his cheek.

Two slick fingers pushed in and made Juice’s eyes water. He arched his neck and dug his fingers into Chibs’ shoulders. “Fuck, I can’t,” he hissed.

“You can,” Chibs replied. “You already have.” His voice sounded affectionate and like something made him happy.

Juice breathed and tried to convince his body to relax. He opened his eyes and was surprised to find Chibs smiling down at him.

He bore down as Chibs pushed three lubed fingers into his hole. “Fuck,” Juice whispered and bit down on Chibs’ shoulder.

Chibs growled. “Leavin’ your mark on me, Juicy?”

He hadn’t thought of it that way. He’d just wanted to taste Chibs’ skin. Inside his ass, Chibs did something with one of his fingers and Juice saw stars.

“What the fuck?” he shouted hoarsely.

Chibs chuckled and crooked that finger again. Juice’s thighs trembled.

He watched Chibs sit up and tear open a condom wrapper. A chill ran up his spine. He wanted this; at least he thought he did. He wanted Chibs to take care of him, help let it all go for awhile, forget how fucked up things were. But the thought of Chibs actually fucking him scared the shit out of him.

Part of him couldn’t stop being curious about how it would feel. Part of him really wanted to be that close to Chibs.

He watched in fascination – and dread – as Chibs rolled on the condom.

“You look at me, Juicy-boy,” Chibs said firmly, his mouth hovering just over Juice’s. “You keep breathing, relax and keep looking at me. I’ll take good care of you.”

Juice wrapped his arms around Chibs’ chest. He made himself take deep breathes. He tried to relax but that was fucking impossible. He stared into Chibs’ dark eyes and saw his own reflection. What he saw in Chibs’ face make Juice realize he could do this. Chibs wanted – needed – him to do this.

Chibs’ gave a powerful thrust and Juice’s ass was on fire.

“Breathe, Juicy. You’re doin’ great. You’re fuckin’ perfect, me-boy.”

Juice felt Chibs’ hand wrap around his softening dick and suddenly, his entire body relaxed. Chibs’ cock slid in to the root and he moaned. It sounded so fucking dirty. Juice sighed in pleasure and relief.

He waited for Chibs to fuck him. Any second now, Chibs was gonna start pounding into him, Juice knew it.

It didn’t happen. Chibs was fucking torturing him. He took up a slow pace. He slid in and out of Juice’s ass at an easy pace. The stretch was good. The feel of Chibs inside him was good. Chibs matched the speed of his cock with the speed of his hand.

“Oh, fuck.” Juice squeezed his eyes shut and gripped Chibs’ shoulders hard.

“Look at me, Juicy. Keep lookin’ right at me.”

Juice did what Chibs asked. It meant he had to stare right into Chibs’ eyes, and that scared him.

The hand on his cock tightened and twisted at the head. That was all it took. Juice was gonna fuckin’ come all over the both of them in just a second.

“Chibs’, I … I’m gonna …” Jesus Christ, he sounded fucking desperate.

“I’ve got ya, Juicy-boy. I’m takin’ care of you. Just let it go. Let me have it all.” Chibs looked right into Juice’s eyes and didn’t blink. He looked into him as he fucked into him and stroked his cock to make him come.

Juice’s body froze. All his muscles locked up and he couldn’t move. He wanted to close his eyes but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even take a fucking breath. Chibs’ hand kept moving on his cock. His balls gave one huge pulse and Juice felt spunk land on his chest and his belly. It was hot and sticky.

He shouted. Juice knew he shouted. His throat hurt from it. When his body relaxed and he could finally take a deep breath, he collapsed on the bed. Juice couldn’t even feel his arms and legs.

All he knew was that Chibs needed to come.

“Now you,” he managed to gasp.

Juice felt hot breath against his throat. He got his arms working enough to wrap around Chibs’ chest.

“Wrap yourself around me,” Chibs said against Juice’s ear. “Hold onto to me, Juicy.”

Juice did. He clutched Chibs’ back and wrapped his legs around Chibs’ hips. Chibs picked up the pace of his hips, slamming roughly into Juice. The burn in his ass was back but the stretch felt good.

Chibs gave a hard thrust and stopped moving. Juice could feel Chibs cock actually twitch and pulse inside his ass. He didn’t expect that. He liked it. Chibs shuddered against him. He shook so hard the bed rocked. He groaned and swore against Juice’s neck. Juice thought it might be Gaelic.

Chibs went boneless and collapsed down beside Juice. Neither of them could catch their breath.

Juice actually fucking fell asleep. Chibs really had taken good care of him.

Pulling out was a bitch.

He got up and rinsed the come off himself. He didn’t want it drying and getting nasty. But Juice also wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now. He slid back into bed and watched Chibs lean out the bedroom window to smoke.

“You wanna stay?” he hadn’t meant to ask that. What was he? A fucking Old Lady?

“Yeah, for a bit.” Chibs stubbed out his cigarette. He climbed into the bed next to Juice. “I’ll be right here, Juicy. You just close your eyes and get some rest. I’ll take care of you.”

Juice sighed and closed his eyes.

It felt nice when Chibs curled around him, just before he fell asleep.