First time doing a crossover between two fandoms. Hope you guys like this story that me and my wonderful friend created. Feedback would be greatly appreciated!
Juice had no idea why he went to the man's house, or what he was going to do now that he was there. Juice also had no idea what compelled him to lift his hand and knock on the door. He sucked in a breath and waited. Waited for the Scotsman to open the door and either invite him in, or kick him out. Juice knew that he had been very stupid the past few weeks, but the truth was, Juice was alone. He had no one to talk to. No one to tell him everything was going to be okay. Juice was about to leave when the door opened. Chibs looked down at him with an unreadable expression.
"What are yeh doin' here, Juicy?" Chibs asked in his thick Scottish brogue. Juice didn't know what happened, but the next thing he knew, he was clinging to the Scotsman, crying into his chest. Everything that was built up inside his head for the past few weeks just poured out. He felt arms wrap around his body, enveloping him into warmth. He heard the door close and Chibs pulled him into the house. Juice hiccuped and tried to pull away when he realized what he was doing.
"I'm s-sorry." He cried, wiping his eyes. "I-I should go." He turned around and started back to the door before he felt large arms wrap around his waist and a hard chest against his back. Juice closed his eyes and relaxed in the embrace.
"It's okay, Juicy. You don't have to hide anymore." Chibs whispered in the younger man's ear. "Let it all out." Chibs turned Juice around and tucked the mohawked head under his chin, rubbing his back gently as he whispered soothing words into the man's ear. Juice wrapped his arms around Chibs' waist and held on as tight as he could, thinking that this was all just a dream and that Chibs was going to disappear.
Chibs eventually pulled Juice to his room and gently laid the boy down on his bed, laying with him. "Just relax, Juicy Boy." He murmured, pulling Juice against his chest once again. "I got you. It's going to be okay."
Juice started to cry harder when he heard those words, because it was all he ever wanted to hear. He wanted someone who cared about him and would take care of him. That person was Chibs. The older man cared so much about him. He helped him when he went through that tough time with Roosevelt, and he still cared about Juice even though his father was black. Chibs was the one for Juice. He was the one Juice had been searching for his whole life. Juice pulled his head out from Chibs' chest and looked up at the man, sniffling.
"Thank you." He whispered, locking eyes with Scotsman for a second before he leaned up and pressed his lips to Chibs'. Juice prayed to God that Chibs wouldn't kill him or push him away. So when he felt a hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer, he thanked every God out there.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, kissing and touching each other lightly. Juice would run his hands through Chibs' hair and Chibs would run his hands down the boy's toned back. Juice eventually broke the kiss and laid his head on Chibs' chest, falling asleep in the arms of the man that cared for him. The man that he would risk his life for. The man he loved.
The next morning, Juice woke up to his burner ringing loudly in his jeans. The man under him groaned and nudged him up. "Are yeh gonna get that?" Chibs murmured, rolling over to bury his head in the white pillows. Juice sighed and pulled his phone out, seeing it was the clubhouse.
"Hello?" Juice answered, running a hand over his face as he tried to wake up.
'Get down to the clubhouse. We got church in 10.' Jax said through the phone. 'And call Chibs while you're at it.' Juice grinned softly to himself and flopped back down, looking over at the man laying next to him.
"I'll do that. See you in a bit." He flipped his phone shut, stuffing it back in his pocket as he leaned over and kissed the man's neck. A growl was earned and Juice grinned wider. "Come on. Up. Chapel in 10." Chibs groaned and sat up, looking down at the mohawked puerto rican with a tiredexpression.
"It's too early for this shite." Chibs mumbled and rolled off of the bed, but not before Juice reached out and pinched that perfect ass of his. Chibs shot him a playful glare and pulled on his cut. "Come on. Don't wanna anger the boss." Juice heaved himself up and sighed, pulling on his boots that he didn't remember taking off.
Tig was sat in his Sgt. at Arms chair, staring across the table at the blonde biker that never seemed to go away. Not that he was complaining or anything. He loved that the kid was always with him, but someone was going to catch on sooner or later to what they do. Tig's head turned when the doors opened. Chibs and Juice walked in, looking pretty happy. Tig rolled his eyes, knowing the look that was on Juice's face. He saw it too many times on Kozik's.
"Alright. Everyone's here." Clay said, clearing his throat as he sat back in his President's chair. "We have a letter of transfer from Jem." Clay motioned to the 24 year old brunette, currently wearing a London patch.
James Cunningham-Forbes, Jem for short, came to Charming to get away from his shitty life back in the UK. He was around 5'10", and had the most beautiful hazel eyes you'd ever see, but there was also a darkness to them. You could tell that he'd seen some messed up shit just by looking into his eyes. Jem had a pretty nice body, one that had the ladies wanting to touch. He wasn't very muscular, but he was toned with a six pack that fit his body. Jem also had tattoos, like every Son. He had a tattoo across his collarbone that read "worthless piece of shit." Now, there was a story behind that tattoo.
At the age of 14, Jem's father raped his twin sister. The man was psychotic. His father then tried to abort his twin's baby when he found out she was pregnant. The man ended up killing her, which brought Jem to the Sons of Anarchy. He was only 14 when he witnessed his own father shot in the head. That sight intrigued him, and he joined the Son's when he was 17.
The tattoo on his collar was directed towards his father, and he had another tattoo on the left side of his chest, over his heart. "Belle 05/08/94." That was the date that his twin sister was killed ten years ago. Jem also had other tattoos, like the reaper on his arm and other club related things.
Jem was the type of biker that would throw you off if he was wearing normal clothes. He sounded very sophisticated and posh, but once you made him mad and actually talked to him, he was rude as all hell. And Jem would deny it every single time, but when he was drunk, he was one hell of a dancer. Not that he would admit it. Some of the boys even said that he was a good singer, but that was a rare sight to see.
"Let's make the vote." Clay paused and raised his hand in the air. "Yea." Clay looked towards Tig.
"Yea." Tig grinned. Then came Chibs. Then came Opie. And Happy, Piney, Kozik, Juice, Bobby, and finally Jax.
"Unanimous. Welcome to the Redwood charter, brother." Everyone cheered and clapped him on the back. Chibs and Tig took his cut off, cutting off his London patch and handed him a Redwood patch.
Now came the drinking. Out at the bar, Jessica was getting the beers ready with the prospect. The doors opened and she grinned, seeing her cousin hug the new SAMCRO member.
"Hap." She called out to her cousin. "Come get a beer." Soon the party was in full swing, beers passed around, spilling everywhere, croweaters hanging off of nearly every man. Jessica was dancing with Jem, having a great time.
Half Sack looked out from the car he was working on to a suspicious 1967 Chevy Impala. He could make out three men and a girl. The girl looked like she was asleep in the back seat, though. He saw the short, brown hair man about 6'1" handcuff the girl to the car and locked the door behind himself as he exited the vehicle. The same man pulled out a gun and hid it in his jacket pocket. The man to his right was about 6'4" and had shoulder length brown hair. The man to his left was around 6 feet tall and was wearing a trench coat. Half Sack noticed that he had awkward and stiff body movements. He saw them staring down the clubhouse, and he knew he needed to tell someone of his findings.