“Poo, you’re no fun.” She chuckled, running her fingers along an elaborate design depicting a dove. “Tried this one right here on my forearm,” she laughed, pulling up her sleeve to showcase the work she had done. Her fingers ran along its wing. It was small, yet had taken quite a lot of time. “I could do a similar one you.. say.. right there?” She pointed to a visible blank spot she had her eye on. Deanna would back off if he insisted upon it, but she just couldn’t help herself. She had always admired his collection. “If not, we can just grab a beer or something. Deal?”
“MATCHING TATTOOS? YOU WANT TO PUT A DOVE ON MY ARM, TOO?” The design was beautiful, sure, but it was intricate, and it would take time, and the longer the needle had to be on his skin, the worse it’d be. Alej glanced down at the empty spot on his arm that Deanna had motioned to. It had been a long time since he’d mustered up the courage to add to his ink, and Deanna was persistent, he’d give her that.
“Alright. Fine.” Alejandro relented, and wondered if he’d immediately regret it. “How about this - I go to the store, pick up some beer, you get your shit ready, and you... you can draw on me after I’ve downed a bottle or two, alright?”
The thing with Arlo was that he had good and bad days. And then there were days when he fell in the middle. Today was one of those days as he avoided eye contact at all costs. The shame from childhood of being seen and heard still ingrained. No matter how much time passed, how much his wounds grew shut, he would always be that little boy who just wanted to be loved. Sitting on a bench, he looked through his texts when he noticed that someone else had joined him. He didn’t own the bench so he couldn’t tell the other to get lost. Instead he looked up and saw who it was. “Well look what the cat dragged in”
ARLO, HE... HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS FEELING A LITTLE SORRY FOR HIMSELF. Looked like he could use the company, and hell, maybe Alej could use it himself, too. “Think a cat would have a real hard time dragging me anywhere.” Alej scoffed softly, shaking his head and turning to look at his friend with a small smile. “You, uh... not having a great day, huh?”
“What, y’don’t trust me?” The woman chuckled under her breath, not looking up from her designs quite yet. Most of Deanna’s pieces were drawn intentionally for the customer, but sometimes? She took inspiration from people in her life. A certain person she had been dying to tattoo was Alej. From the moment he stepped through the door of Super Fly in hopes of securing the position he now held, she had admired his collection and wanted to add to it. “At least look at them…” Deanna paused, flashing a pair of over-exaggerated puppy-dog eyes in his direction. “Please?”
“I TRUST YOU. I DON’T TRUST THE NEEDLE.” Alej sank back into his seat, spinning around slowly on the chair before coming to a stop to face Deanna again. “But I do know that look in your eyes. You’re looking at the blank spots on my arms again.”
He glanced down at the designs in front of her, and with an exaggerated groan, he pushed himself to his feet. “Fine. I’ll have a look. But that’s it, yeah?” Having a look before he went home to kick ass on Call of Duty was really all he was planning on doing. “They’re great, Deanna. Would look fucking fantastic on somebody else’s skin.”
Alej had noticed Deanna doodling whilst he was counting the cash in the register, clearing up before it was time to lock up and go home, and he was hoping that none of those doodles were supposed to be finding a home on his skin. “I’m serious. I’ll be on my bike and riding home faster than you can say mierda.”
【 clayton cardenas, male, 33 】this just in - ALEJANDRO ‘ALEJ’ VALLEJO has been in wickway for ONE YEAR. apparently HE is the CASHIER AT SUPER FLY RECORDS and a CIVILIAN, or so HIS passport says. so far it’s known that HE favors THE LOOKOUT, and resides at WEST PORT. HE is also said to be CONFIDENT & PROTECTIVE, but also IRRITABLE & STAND-OFFISH. at the end of the day, HE can be described as A RESTING BITCH FACE, SKIN LITTERED WITH SCARS AND TATTOOS & AN MC KUTTE THAT HE WON’T GIVE UP.
Alejandro ‘Alej’ Vallejo, 33, expert in poor decision making. had a normal life, once upon a time, but threw it all away for bikes and booze. likes his Harley, sleeping in, and nature documentaries. dislikes needles (oh, the irony), Christmas, and customers who don’t tip their tattoo artist at the shop.
this is the shortened version of my ramblngs
childhood; as the oldest of four children, Alej matured quickly and helped his hard-working parents take care of his younger siblings, who often poked fun at him for being a mama’s boy - he was the favorite, but his siblings weren’t ever jealous. he cooked, cleaned, and could fend for himself, whilst also excelling at school.
- things changed when he got his first job at the age of 15 and his boss took Alej under his wing, introducing him to guns and starting to teach him everything there was to know about handling and respecting weapons. when he turned 18, his boss passed away, and left him a few weapons alongside the old Harley Davidson motorbike he had at the back of his garage. his parents weren’t best impressed at first - though his siblings clamored to take turns sitting on it - but they warmed up to the idea a little more when they saw how much work he put into teaching himself how to clean it up and make it rideable again.
the mc years; things were going well, Alej was in a steady relationship with a normal girl, and he became friendly with an MC member who’d taken an interest in his bike. eventually, this led to him becoming a prospect for said MC, which his girl wasn’t so excited about, and he couldn’t entirely fathom why. nonetheless, he was becoming a little headstrong now - he’d learnt to reach for the stars and take what he wanted, and being a part of the MC was what he wanted. proving his loyalty to the club whilst maintaining a healthy relationship with his family and his girl proved difficult, especially with the club’s groupies swarming him; after all, he was fresh meat, new, and exciting, but he avoided them like the plague, something he got teased for.
- the other members of the mc didn’t actually find out who his girlfriend was until she showed up dead in the middle of a cartel related raid, which, unbeknownst to Alej, had been instigated by his very MC. it turned out her brother had been involved with some very unsavory figures, thus dragging her into the crossfire - literally. that was a trigger for him, his turning point, at which he just let himself become quickly absorbed into the real MC lifestyle; leaving his poor, sweet mama to wonder where the old Alej had gone.
- he knew that making eyes at the Cardenas girl was a bad idea but he couldn’t help himself. it was like his brain was looking for a distraction to cope with what grief he had left; though he was angry, at his past lover, for not telling her the true nature of the events which led to her untimely death. yet Maeson drew him in, and after no less than seven months of a complicated relationship, if you could even call it that, Alej took the fall for an MC deal gone wrong and wound up being sent to prison in order to save the skin of the other’s who’d been present.
- his ballsy move had more than proven his loyalty, and after his four year stint in prison, he returned a changed man, to be fully patched into the club. gone was the mature, kind-natured boy his mama had raised, instead replaced by a confident, cocky tattooed biker, with a sharp tongue and a gun almost always on his person. the old Alej was tucked away for a rainy day that would most likely never come.
post prison, pre wickway; things with Maeson and the rest of the MC still weren’t the same, though, and he chose to ignore that until the first time he ended up in her bed after his return - though he tried to tell himself it wouldn’t be a regular occurrence. Alej had started sleeping at the clubhouse more often than not, his relationship with his family still unstable, and the rental property he’d lived in before prison long since handed over to someone else.
- but things with the MC began to crumble, centering around the rising tension between the Cardenas’. eventually, Maeson left town, and Alej found himself lost without a purpose, somewhat shunned by some of the members of the MC who judged him for the messy connection he had with Maeson. Alej began couch surfing, or staying over in motels as and when he had the money, surviving on money from temporary jobs and thriving on petty crime. a year after Maeson had left, he was driven to leave town and follow in her footsteps.
present day; hoping to find a new sense of purpose, and comfort in familiarity, he traveled to Wickway with his trusty bike along with all of his remaining worldly possessions stuffed into a backpack. Alej started out simply crashing on Maeson’s couch, before getting a job at the local tattoo parlor as a source of steady income - ironic, since he was terrified of needles, and doubly ironic since he was already covered in various tattoos - and officially moving in with Maeson eased his financial burden. though he swore at anybody who dared to so much as point a needle at him, the job kept a roof over his head and food on his plate every day.
- he still calls his parents, maybe his siblings too every now and then, but he isn’t always entirely truthful about where he is and what he’s doing. they’d lose their minds if they’d found out he’d broken away from one gang and wouldn’t be against an alliance with another gang; even the gang that was once the most notorious on the island he now called home.
- his mama wanted to believe that her eldest son’s unexpected violent years were behind him, but perhaps some of the worst was still yet to come.
Jack had woken up the moment the front door had opened, but hadn’t moved, except to tell Cooper to stay. The dog listened, though his tail thumped loudly against the mattress. Jack shifted as TJ made his way into the bedroom, turning to watch as his boyfriend moved through the room and blinking when the man stopped.
He let him stand there for a moment before shifting, pulling himself out of the bed and padding around to TJ. “Hey. Can’t sleep on your feet, cher.” He said softly, dropping a kiss against the other man’s shoulder lightly. “Shirt off, those sweats you like to steal are right there, you know I can’t do it for you. You gotta do this part yourself.” He kept his voice just above a whisper, tone gentle, as he moved to the other’s side “Then you can pass out for a while.”
IT WAS LIKE HE HARDLY REGISTERED THAT JACK WAS THERE until the other man was physically touching him. TJ hardly had the energy to react, wanting to smile, but his heavy heart not allowing him to do so. Somehow he couldn’t feel the happiness that his loved one was safe and at home waiting for him when he’d seen so many people wounded tonight. On this occasion, the bad was outweighing the good.
“I can try.” His voice was soft, mumbling in response to Jack’s first sentence, before his eyes dropped down to the very sweats he’d tried to claim as his own. “I just... we didn’t make any arrests, and there were so many fights, I managed to avoid the gang members for the most part, they... they were otherwise occupied with ears, and eyes, and they...” TJ rambled on quietly as he stripped off his shirt, swapped his pants for the comfy sweatpants, before turning and facing Jack so he could press his face into the crook of the other mans neck and loop his arms loosely around him.
“Thank you. For... for coming home safe. I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”
AFTER A NOT-VERY-BENEFICIAL FOUR HOURS OF SLEEP, TJ was back at the station to try and make sense of what was left to be dealt with; that, and the fact that they’d made no arrests. Nothing. Nada. Everybody knew damn well who the guilty party were - they’d announced themselves to the general public before maiming a man, for Christ’s sake - but they were severely lacking in physical proof.
What he didn’t need was Tony all over him and bringing his personal life into it. The awkward conversation they’d had in the hospital had been more than enough for him. TJ was well aware he slept in the same bed as an ex-con last night, and he wanted to work with Tony today, not be berated by the man. He found himself physically wincing as he watched his work partner clock in and head his way, hoping that the first thing out of his mouth would be relevant to one of the many files on his desk and not... well, anything else.
After a gruelling shift during the aftermath of the Winter Social disaster, TJ had been sent home at the ripe hour of 4am to get a few hours of sleep before returning to the station the next day. Except he didn’t even make it to bed before his brain stopped functioning for the night - technically the morning.
He’d gone inside as quietly as he could, hoping that Jack was resting by now and that Cooper wouldn’t lose his shit and start making a racket. He ditched his bag and jacket on the floor of the hallway, unable to even muster the energy to hang them on the hooks on the wall, and he abandoned his shoes one by one on his way in.
TJ eventually made it to the bedroom, being as quiet as he could manage as he headed to the closet to get something to sleep in. That was the precise moment that his brain shut off completely, too frazzled from the events of the past 24 hours to keep working, leaving him standing in front of the open closet and staring blankly at the clothes in front of him.
Jack nodded, following along with TJ around the festival- and he did find himself having some fun, mostly with teasing the other man.
And then there was a show- blood and retching and gasps- and Jack was looping an arm around TJ’s waist the best he could with no grip and tugging him down, hitting the floor with him the moment there was a call to grab at ex-cons. “Not good, not good, not good.” He let out, eyes already checking the crowd for Tommy, who he knew was here, had passed him by earlier. “Shit. Shit, shit- alright. Tommy’s here with the dog.”
IF ONLY THEIR HAPPINESS COULD HAVE LASTED FOR LONGER that evening, though perhaps that was too much to ask of the universe today. One of TJ’s hands fisted in the material of Jack’s shirt, like he was making sure the other man couldn’t slip away from him as he assessed the situation the best he could. Time to turn his detective brain back on again.
“Yeah. Not good. I’m sure everybody wants their eyes and ears to stay attached to them.” TJ felt nausea rising in his own stomach but tried to ignore it, hoping the feeling would dissipate if he didn’t let it overcome his senses. “Tommy’s here? With Billy?” And he was with his dog, who he’d probably trade his own fucking life for. The man was vulnerable, especially if he wasn’t sober, and he knew how much Jack cared about him. “We can find him together. I’m staying with you for as long as I can.” Because last time he’d lost track of Jack mid-disaster, it had ended in tears and holes in hands, and if TJ could avoid a repeat of that, he’d vehemently do so. “I have to do cop shit, but that involves protecting you.”
“You are so cute, cher.” Jack laughed, shifting to drop a kiss to TJ’s cheek and leaning into the man. He tilted his head, grinning in return, “I suppose I’ll wait. Let you have fun.” He shifted away after a moment, putting some room between them but slipping his hand down to link his fingers with the other man’s carefully- not wanting to irritate his hands too much with the movement. “How was your day? Save the city, paw patrol?”
IT FELT COMFORTABLE TO BE AFFECTIONATE WITH JACK in public; even if he couldn’t hold his hand as tightly as he wanted to. “First time in a while I’ve had a date to anything like this. It’s nice. You might as well have fun too, since you’re here and all.” TJ mused quietly, glancing around as he heard a song start up in another tent nearby. “C’mon. Let’s go find the music. I wanna see who’s on stage, and I promise I won’t make you dance.” He stepped back, having another sip of his drink whilst also glancing quickly around the room. Like he was expecting somebody like Tony to step out of the shadows and immediately start judging him all over again. “Eh. Work was - work. A lot of dead ends on cases all over the island, and I wish I could say I’m surprised.”
Jack smoothed his hand up and then back down TJ’s back before dropping it to his side, shifting to the side to look down toward the just-shorter man. “Mm. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t invite a few snowbirds to have fun?” He teased. He pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, grinning at the other man before dropping his voice, low enough that no one around them would hear, “My hands aren’t in great working order right now, unfortunately, but my mouth still words just fine.” He was hoping to pull TJ’s laugh out again, see the tips of his ears turn pink.
“I’M NOT INTERESTED IN THE SNOWBIRDS. Not in the slightest.” TJ rolled his eyes, before glancing back down at his drink, moving to take another sip before Jack lowered his voice. Before TJ knew it, he was sputtering on his drink, heat creeping across his cheeks as he shook his head. Trust Jack to come out with something like that in public. “At least let me finish my drink before you try and entice me home with you.” His free hand shifted, arm loosely settling around Jack so he could tuck himself closer to the man’s side. “Tell me more about your mouth after I’ve finished my drink?” TJ looked up at Jack with a new goofy smile threatening to cross his face.
The winter social. Jack hadn’t wanted to show up, but TJ had dropped ever-so-casually that he’d be there- that he wanted Jack there- and Jack had pulled himself together while TJ was at work. He even managed to shave without cutting himself, though it’d taken a long while. He had walked through city center, sticking his nose into a few tents in search of the other man, and grinned when he finally spotted him. He grabbed a drink before slipping across the tent toward TJ from behind, setting the drink on the table in front of TJ and his other hand against the small of his back lightly. “You running from the snow, sweetheart? Haven’t seen you around town before.”
TJ HAD DROPPED AS MANY HINTS AS HE possibly could, but still wasn’t sure that Jack would actually show up to the event. He’d found a few people to speak to since he’d arrived, having been back to his own home after work to freshen up, but they’d eventually drifted away and he’d been left alone again. Part of him was considering calling Jack, or even just taking a detour to his place and calling it a night here, when there was suddenly a hand on his back, causing him to flinch for a second before he realised exactly who it was, and decided to play along. He chuckled softly, shaking his head and picking up the drink as he looked up at the mysterious figure behind him.
“Came in here to warm up. You think you could help me with that?” TJ arched an eyebrow, lifting his new drink and taking a sip as he struggled not to grin like an idiot.
Jack looked down to the files, looking up when TJ set the plate in front of him and kissed his head, smiling softly. “No, I can’t blame you for trying.” He said, watching the other man for a long moment, as he bit into the garlic bread, before picking up his own piece carefully- both hands involved in the process. He smiled around his first bite when he managed to get it, letting out a small noise.
“It’s really good.” He murmured after swallowing, already moving for another bite- it was. After quickly stuffing most of it back, Jack shifted, sliding his legs forward to hook an ankle around TJ’s under the table and looking up toward him. “Hey. Thank you.”
TJ NODDED IN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AS JACK SPOKE, concentrating on his garlic bread as he quietly ate most of the portion he’d set himself. Okay, so Jack still didn’t want him to know things, but at least he could understand why he wanted to know. That was a start, but it would almost certainly bug TJ until he knew precisely what had happened, and clearly, he’d have to figure that out on his own terms. TJ knew he’d made it very clear that Jack could confide in him, but he couldn’t force the other man to do anything.
He leaned back in his seat again, pushing his plate away as he did so and looking back up at Jack as his foot knocked against his beneath the table. “Hey, you don’t... no need for thanks. I’m just... doing my thing.” TJ shrugged. He pulled himself up to stand, debating whether to go and clean his plate off or not, but eventually decided he’d much rather seat himself in Jack’s lap, facing his boyfriend so he could loop his arms over his shoulders; and hide his face in the crook of Jack’s neck as he stifled a yawn.
“Nobody is gonna steal either of us away. We... we are gonna be just fine.”
“Nobody with those crosses is an innocent, TJ.” Jack said, letting TJ lift his hand and kiss it, not letting his face show it when the movement pulled at his stitches, “Not even me. Even if I wish I was.” He turned his hand after a moment, stroking a thumb across TJ’s cheekbone lightly before drawing it back, settling it on the table again.
“I mean- you made it. We should eat it.” Jack said, looking down to the files and papers piled on his kitchen table- something pleasant crossing him when he thought about how quickly TJ had taken to bringing his homework to Jack’s home- and flipped one open to peek at it, scrunching his nose. “Sweet, I’m sorry… I don’t mean to be a pain in your ass, or a worry or whatever.” He looked up toward TJ, “It wouldn’t be just risking myself- giving you information is putting you in danger, and giving police information is putting an entire group of people in danger, and both of those things are things I’m not willing to do. There’s too many moving pieces to this.”
“I’M NOT SURE ANY GROWN ADULT ON WICKWAY is truly innocent, but... less so with those cursed tattoos, yeah.” TJ closed his eyes briefly as Jack’s hand brushed across his face, pretending to himself for that moment that he was relaxed again, before opening his eyes, seeing all the work spread across the table, and remembering exactly what was going on in his brain.
Despite it being 3am, still, and despite TJ having eaten normally during the previous day, he found his stomach growling as he removed the bread from the oven and split it into two portions. “Hey, it’s alright. I know you don’t mean that. But I told you, it’s... it’s fine. I don’t consider you a burden, Jack.” He pressed one more kiss to Jack’s head before sitting down, setting the two plates of garlic bread in front of them. “It’s... okay. I’ll stop pushing you so much for information, but I - you can’t blame me for trying, right?” With a small shrug, TJ picked up a piece of the bread, not caring that it was still piping hot as he bit into it, falling silent again.
Jack let out a long sigh, watching TJ pace from the table to the oven and back again. He hated seeing TJ so upset like this- so clearly exhausted. He wished he could reach out and just fix it, take away all the pain he was putting TJ through. He was determined to- it would just take time to do. “Teej… baby…”
He shifted in the chair, leaning against the back and sliding his feet across the cold tiles of the floor. “TJ. Take a deep breath, cut the bahbin.” He said firmly, “Listen, I’m not… I’m not gonna promise you that I’m never gonna get hurt again. I can’t. There’s a lot happening on this island and there are people with less than positive feelings about me.” He lifted a hand, scratching at the scruff on his cheek again, “The person who did this to me is probably not coming my way again- I wasn’t any use to them. It’s why they dumped me.”
He shifted forward, pulling his legs up under him again and crossing his arms on the table, “The people that he might go after next have been warned. They know that they’re a potential target- and they put that target there themselves. Either way- it’s not random violence, and it’s not likely to involve anyone in town that has never had Santoro crosses.” He knew he was giving TJ more than he should- knew that most likely the more information he gave TJ, the deeper his boyfriend would dig- but he was hoping he’d get him off that trail. “You can relax. Just a little bit.”
He snaked a hand across the table, tracing unbandaged fingertips along TJ’s arm, “Don’t let Tommy get the inside scoop about how good your garlic bread is, okay? He might try to steal you from me.”
IT STILL BUGGED TJ THAT JACK KNEW who was responsible, and wouldn’t even give him a single hint as to who’d caused him such pain. All he needed was the name, and he could delve deeper, ask questions and hell, maybe even make some arrests, but he couldn’t do that if Jack kept his mouth shut about it.
He still struggled to believe every word that Jack said, though; as much as he wanted to go back to sleep with the knowledge that whoever shot Jack wouldn’t be coming back for seconds, he didn’t know that for definite. “But... people with crosses, that’s - that’s a lot of people you know, Jack, and there’ll be crossfire and I - I don’t want you to get hurt in that, either. But I know you can’t guarantee your safety, and that... it scares me.” It almost felt good to admit that out loud, but TJ knew that Jack was already very aware of how much TJ worried about him.
Glancing down at Jack’s hand reaching out to him, he allowed himself to physically relax a little at his touch, though mentally, his thoughts were still moving at a million miles an hour. “But anyway, I... nobody is stealing me, Jack. That’s a promise.” TJ lifted his other hand, taking Jack’s and raising it gently to his lips so he could press the most careful of kisses to the back of his fingers. “So, you... you want some garlic bread, huh?”
Jack had shaken half-awake when TJ had weaseled out from his arms, but had elected to keep his eyes closed and let TJ sneak away- trying to go back to sleep, figuring he’d be back from the restroom in a moment. When TJ didn’t come back- when he heard the open-and-close of the oven he knew TJ was trying to make quieter, he woke fully.
He shifted out of bed after a long moment of staring at the ceiling, and waved a bandaged hand toward Cooper when the dog looked up. “Stay.” He murmured, shuffling out of the bedroom. He scratched his fingertips across a scruffy cheek, slipping into the kitchen. “It’s…” He looked to the clock on the oven, “3:06 AM, Teej…” He said, voice rough with sleep as he stepped up to the chair TJ had set himself on, slipping his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders. He dropped a kiss to the man’s hair before slipping away again.
He padded to another chair, plopping down into it, eyes dropping to the papers in front of TJ. “Where’s your head at, then, cher?” He asked, looking up toward him and raising an eyebrow.
TJ WAS TOO ENGROSSED IN WHAT HE WAS READING to fully notice Jack leaving the bedroom. Only when Jack has entered the kitchen did he tear his eyes away from what the file in his hand, glancing up briefly as Jack entered the room before his eyes turned back down towards his work.
“Can’t sleep.” He mumbled softly, feeling Jack’s arms around him for a brief moment, a kiss pressed to his head allowing him to relax his shoulders for just a second, before all too soon that gentle touch was gone and Jack was seated in front of him. “I can’t sleep, and there’s bread in the oven, and I... I just can’t make any sense of this shit.” Hardly sparing Jack a glance as he got up, TJ rose to his feet, rubbing a hand over his tired face and dropping the file down onto the table with a frustrated little huff.
After checking on the garlic bread, staring aimlessly at it for a moment longer, TJ returned to his seat at the table, sinking down into it with something of a defeated expression. “I can’t... sleep, I can’t fucking close my eyes... because I know whoever did this to you - they’re still out there, probably ready to... to attack someone else.” TJ rested his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together and resting his chin atop them as he glanced back at Jack with sad eyes; visible dark circles beneath them giving away how tired he truly was. “Or... come back to - to hurt you again.”
