This was his bike. They'd saved it, somehow. Not somehow, it was easy enough to get a pretty piece of steel and chrome like his before it went to auction. Especially for the Sons.
That was his clubhouse. He hadn't known it very well, before Stockton, but the former ice cream store in downtown felt as much of one as the big one he was used to next to Teller-Morrow. Which also was in some sort of legal limbo but he refused to find out details. Just clocked in, did his work, and clocked out. Then went home. This was the first, no second time he was here.
And Juice had his kutte. His kutte, despite the fact they'd made him painstakingly pull out all the patches he'd earned in the time Before Stockton. Men of Mayhem, Redwood Original. The top and bottom rockers. The great Reaper in the middle. They'd allowed him to keep his "In Memory of Opie" patch; they weren't so cruel as to do that. Not after taking him back to the beginning.
He'd betrayed the Club, done it wrong, so now he had to prove himself again. It honestly was more than Juice could have ever even dreamed that he'd be allowed, so he would do it the right way. (He would have been happy with being allowed to live in the same town without Issue.) He'd re-stitched the Prospect rocker last night, sturdy so that it wouldn't come off.
"Sure you're okay with this?" His passenger asked, and swung his leg off the bike to come around it and look at Juice. "You don't have to."
"I'm sure, Tully." Because he couldn't bring himself to use Tully's first name. Juice did much prefer the sweet and loving nicknames that they exchanged with each other but right now he had to keep his head in the right place. So, surname it was. Tully knew that Juice still adored him. "Gotta do this, it's official this time." He'd been in the Clubhouse before, but this was the first time he was there as a formal Prospect. "Go do your stitch and bitch thing with the other ladies." He grinned up at his lover; the teasing was helping him calm himself.
Tully came around closer and leaned down. "I'll have you know, sweetheart, that knitting used to be for men only and was a prestigious guild to be a part of." He briefly kissed Juice on the lips. "And I'm gonna spank your ass tonight for your mouth." And another kiss before Tully straightened up and grabbed his knitting bag-- black leather-- out of Juice's saddlebags. Juice couldn't help but stare at his beloved, his lifesaver. His rock. His sexy, sexy, rock.
"PROSPECT!" A hollar from across the street brought Juice's attention to the Clubhouse again and he hopped off his bike. A quick glance back and forth and he crossed in a jog. The new-to-him Vice President, Tig, was staring at him with folded arms. "Least you ditched the stupid-ass mohawk in the clink." He snarked; didn't tease him about his new-found homo-or-bisexuality. Tig knew better. "Alright, church tonight. You know the drill, keep an ear out during the meeting, keep this place clean for the party after. Do not let my beer run low, that's your job tonight."
Juice did, finally, let a smile cross his face. It sounded so perfectly familiar and he knew Tully was watching them from the window of the local yarn store where his knitting club was being held. Juice had backup there, but eventually with enough hard work he'd have his Club, too. "Yes sir."
It was well known on the inside that Ron Tully, former shot-caller for the Aryan Brotherhood, was a kinky fucker. As much as one could be, in Stockton. Handcuffs were out but blindfolds could be fashioned, paddles and crops made. He especially liked when he could get some little punk to enjoy what he was doing to them to get off himself and took care of them when he was done.
That hadn't changed, now that he was on the outside, though much had. Juice shared the enormous bed they had, still, and still Tully could pull out noises Juice didn't think he could make. Of course with his permission and love. What certainly hadn't changed was the after. Tully slipped out of Juice, panting now that he'd finally cum. His boy laid on his back with that sunshine grin of his, looking like he was still floating on cloud nine. Tully rolled to his side, reaching to lightly rub Juice's belly. "Hey, my sweetheart. Gonna come down to Earth anytime soon?"
Juice shook his head, but rolled right into Tully's arms. He loved to be cuddled in general but after something so intense it was a requirement. Tully didn't mind it. Just one of the ways he showed Juice his love. "My darling. Such a good boy. Such a good job, taking my cock, not cumning til I said." Praise, too, was a necessity. They'd shower and get some food after this though no one was in a rush. "You do so well for me. I'm so proud of you and I love you so much." Tully rubbed Juice's strong back. He might have been a kinky fucker but that was the most important thing about sex with Juice. That he knew he was loved.
A/N: Different first meeting! Tully/Juice. Don't like, don't read. Thanks @kylithelost for the idea!
Content warning: Dubious consent specifically consent under pressure, nonspecific about giving consent.
After his arrest, the jail time before sentencing, and the sentencing was the thing Juice hated the most about going to prison. The bus ride there. It was always cramped, the seats uncomfortable and they always took the longest, most bumpy route there. Juice was usually reminded, unpleasantly, of riding the bus on grade-school field trips where even if you had friends it wasn't really that fun.
He didn't have friends.
He sat in the back corner, as far as he could from other inmates as they shuffled in and were one by one cuffed into their seats by their ankles. Juice didn't make eye contact with any of them, just looked out the window to memorize the landscape. It wasn't much, just San Joaquin County Jail but Juice had a feeling deep in his gut it truly would be his last. He tried not to think that his last free landscape was the beautiful mountains surrounding Charming, because that led to worse thoughts. Ones that brought tears to his eyes and set his gut roiling. Juice stomped them down; he could cry later in his cell.
He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't see the inmate that boarded last, or really hear the cheers that his presence brought on. Only when that inmate took the last available seat next to Juice did he startle back to the present and chance a glance. Not much of one, not wanting to arouse this unknown man's ire. He just folded himself up further into the corner of the bus, bracing as it finally lurched forward. He hated this part, even when he had friends to keep an eye on him.
Juice would have done anything for them when he felt that inmate's hand rest on his thigh soon after the journey started. Instead he had to take care of himself, at least long enough to make it to the prison. "I-I got...someone on th' inside. What I hear he's not real big on other people t-touchin' his things." Because he was a Thing now. A punk. A puppet, though he'd always been that, really. Someone else always pulling his strings.
"Oh, I know he won't mind, sweetheart." The voice purred at him, and Juice looked again. The inmate was comfortable, like he'd been there many a time before. Judging by all the white power tattoos on him, clearly done in prison, he probably had. "M'little Juicebox," he crooned and his hand resumed petting Juice's leg.
It clicked for him, then, when this inmate knew who he was. The tattoos, the presumptuous air. "I thought you were a sh-shot caller..." Juice whispered as he involuntarily cringed away. "Tully."
"Mm, I still am sweetheart. Only a minor interruption for parole a few months ago. Now I'm back so that I can fulfill a contract I took with Jackson." Long fingers was still touching Juice. "It's serendipity I'm on the bus, honestly but my parole officer thinks it's excellent punishment for the paperwork I'm making her do by coming back in so early." Tully waved with his free hand, never removing himself from Juice's person. "I'm glad for it though...we can get to know each other a little more, hm?"
Juice wanted to peel his skin off and hurtle himself through the tiny window next to him. "Please don't..." he whispered instead, trying to pull away more. To make himself a ball and be left alone. He'd have to go through his eventually but he just couldn't, right now. He had to be ready for it.
"Shhh, relax, sweetheart." Tully just leaned in closer to be able to whisper into his ear. "Relax, I'm not goin' to hurt you. Not now an' certainly not later." His hand came up toward Juice's body and then slid down. A gentle pet, really, like one would do to a frightened animal. "Don' like to break my toys. Or my people..." Tully paused, that lilt in his voice deceptively soothing. Juice didn't want to be soothed, he wanted to remain frightened. "An' you're mine f'r now." More gentle pets and Juice found himself untensing, yielding to the kindness artificial though it must be. Because he always did. Anyone who threw him a scrap of affection he gobbled up like a starving man."There you go, sweetheart. We're in for a trip, sitting like that's terrible for your posture." Tully chuckled, a deep sound more against Juice than in his ear. His hands dipped a little lower, now properly stroking the inside of Juice's thigh instead of the top.
And he hated that it felt good. That he was so starved of touch that he spread his legs a little more so that this man, this neo-Nazi shot-caller monster could keep on petting him. And he did, in silence for a little while. Juice's silence, at anyway, as he allowed the strokes. Tully was catching up with all the inmates he could. Finally Tully leaned back over to Juice, getting close and murmuring into his ear once more. "Sorry, baby, I'm a regular chatterbox an' I've been ignoring you..." Tully stopped his petting, but it was a little too close to Juice's groin. He didn't object though, didn't have a chance to because Tully started talking again. "Will you tell me, sweetheart, when was the last time your cock got sucked?"
Juice opened his eyes, not having realized he'd closed them and looked wide-eyed at Tully. Reality came crashing back into his brain and he almost started to close his legs. Only almost, because Tully's grip suddenly turned hard like a vice. "Shh, relax baby." That voice, again. The soothing one. "Shh, I'm sorry, that was far too blunt." He did sound apologetic, and the grip had loosened so Juice reluctantly relaxed again so that the gentle pets could resume. "I didn't mean to upset you, sweetheart."
"Been a while." Juice spoke before his brain kicked in. It made him flush and look away from those dark glittering eyes. They had mirth in them, because Juice had in fact answered.
"Mm, my poor sweetheart." Tully rumbled again, and his hand for the briefest moment came up and brushed Juice's groin, before sliding back down to his knee to squeeze it. "We'll make that up." Tully glanced to the front of the bus and rested his head on Juice's shoulder as whatever he'd seen there assured him it was safe to do so. "Ever been with a man?"
Another filthy question, and Juice should be pulling away but the warm breath on his ear, the closeness of another human body made him resistant to that. He also didn't want to upset the shot-caller; if this was what he promised then Juice could live with that. "N-no." He whispered back, and another brush closer to his groin. Clearly a reward, and Juice realized he could feel stirrings down below. That was horrific enough but even worse was Juice's mouth running away from him again. "P-pretty sure I'm gay though." Everyone else had said it, at any rate, and the idea didn't give him visceral disgust like it did the rest of the Sons.
Tully's hand rose back up Juice's leg and settled so it was brushing firmly on his groin. "Oh, really sweetheart...thought about men inside of you? Getting fingered inside your ass...?" Tully was still whispering, still close, and Juice could almost forget that none of this he really wanted. That he was trapped on a bus, very likely going ultimately to his death. But he couldn’t stop imagining the thought of Tully’s fingers inside him. Filling him up. His cock, too. Maybe he’d be kind and let Juice lay on his back at least once. "It feels good, I promise you. Men have some very interesting buttons inside them."
The fact that Tully knew what that felt like, which meant he had things up his ass and was still shot-caller was an interesting fact that Juice's brain stored for later. Right then Tully had brought his hand to lightly rest on Juice's half-hard bulge. "Oh, my, sweetheart. Gonna have fun with this...I like giving reach-arounds on big dicks... Can't wait to hear what sort of noises you make." Tully palmed him through his pants. "Shh, you don't have to make them now."
Juice really wanted to, though. He wanted Tully to put his hand down his pants and stop the torture that he was being put through. Because it was like he was being pulled in two different directions and he was terrible at accepting that. If he was just given a push one way, it was easier. "I promise I'm gonna make you feel real good, sweetheart."
"Please." Juice flushed again, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing back the sob that wanted to escape. He was scared and sick, and turned on all at the same time ans something was going to give if Tully didn't stop or keep going right then.
"Shhh." Tully's hand was suddenly gone from his cock, and Juice didn't bite back the whimper in time. "We're almost there, sweetheart, and I'll get into all kinds of trouble if you've cum in your pants." Tully hadn't otherwise moved, keeping shoulder-to-shoulder with Juice. "I'm not gonna go anywhere, jus' come back t'Earth f'r me, baby."
Juice wanted to wipe his eyes because they had to be red and wet by now. He didn't want more but he did at the same time, and he was glad for Tully's grounding presence against him. Juice looked around and he could see the prison looming in front of them. "That's m'good sweet Juicebox." There was the lighest kiss on his ear before Tully scooted away to a far more proper position. "We're gonna haveta split up for a bit, baby boy, but I have friends who'll take care of you 'til we can meet again." The bus stopped and they started the slow process of disembarking.
He hated that part, that hadn't changed. But at least he knew what he was in for this time.
