Jax saw a lot of things differently since Opie had been killed. It was as if the color had been drained from his world, leaving only a harsh mixture of greys. He had lost what idealism and naiveté he might have had before, which had been replaced by the strong desire to never be blindsided like that again in its way. A large part of his mind didn't even see morals anymore, just opportunities. No guilt, just cold calculation. It didn't even see people anymore, not really anyway. They were just tools to be used to his advantage. And they didn't have a personality anymore, just a collection of strengths and weakness that had to be exploited mercilessly, if he wanted to reach his goals.

At the moment these were getting rid of Clay for good, getting the club into legit business and getting Tara out of jail. The most pressing one – bloody revenge for Opie – had recently been reached and Jax still cherished the thought of that. Some part of him had hoped that the newfound coldness would vanish once he avenged his best friend but apparently it was here to stay. This worried the part of him that still was able to feel something for other people but he couldn't deny that the newfound ruthlessness was useful. It had certainly worked out well in the past and had brought him into a pretty decent position.

Clay would likely be handled by Marx, so Jax didn't have to worry too much about him at the moment. Tara was a different matter; she was in deep shit thanks to Otto's stupid revenge scheme and needed to get out of the fire quickly. She wasn't made for this kind of life and he was certain prison would break her over time. Then she would either rat or go completely nuts. Jax really hoped Lowell could get her out on bail soon. He would like to say that this was only because she was his wife and he loved her but that wouldn't be true. At least part of him wanted to assess her and see if she was a threat. Jax really hoped that she wasn't because he dreaded the logical conclusion of this line of thought. He knew now that there was nothing he wasn't capable of if push came to shove. He wondered if Tara had come to the same conclusion. Apparently not, if she risked alienating him by shutting him out for no reason. Why did she think that would help anyone? Women! Jax could lay them easily enough but he would never understand them.

He had just turned down Colette's really transparent tries to get into his pants – Jax had been tempted but didn't consider it smart to bang a business partner – and had gotten back to Teller Morrow instead. There he had run into Lowell who had just told him that is wife still didn't want to see him. And that had hurt much more than he would have thought possible. So here he was, standing in front of the office, smoking and wondering what to do next. He had the desire to do something, to get some control back but there wasn't anything to grab onto. After all, he couldn't force her to talk to him.

His interest was piqued when he saw most of the workers leaving the garage. This meant delicate club business and nothing happened in his club without his approval. He tossed his cigarette away and started to walk over, just in time to see Chibs moving in on Juice. Shit, he couldn't use that at the moment. He needed Juice, he wouldn't let Chibs ruin the most reliably asset Jax currently had. When he reached the garage Juice just got up from the ground, a bruise already forming on this face. He didn't seem to fight back, Jax noted, probably too defeated to even defend himself from Chibs' blows. Jax moved behind the Scot and grabbed his hands. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Just giving Juice a welcome, Jackie," Chibs said, staring angrily at him.

"Go to my room," Jax told Juice over Chip's shoulder. "Wait there for me."

Juice nodded, threw a fearful glance at Chibs and slunk out of the room. He looked so defeated Jax almost pitied him. Then he remembered what Juice had done and the emotion withered.

"So, you are trying to make him comfortable now?" Chibs spat. "He has killed a brother! He shouldn't be here!"

"That is not your call to make", Jax said calmly, releasing the Scot's arm. "I told you why I wanted Juice in the Club and I don't want you to sabotage my efforts. You don't have to be nice to Juice, you just have to leave him alone and let me handle him. I promise it won't be fun for him."

Chibs looked at him for quite some time and Jax could practically see the wheels turning in the VP's head. If Jax wasn't much mistaken, Chibs was currently debating if he really wanted to know what Jax was doing with Juice or not. Jax's money was on the latter. Despite his long and bloody career, Chibs still was a bit soft around the edges – something he had missed for a long time but now saw clearly –and didn't had the brutal ruthlessness you needed for this business. "Alright, Jackie, I'll leave him alone. But the moment he steps out of line, I'll kill him. And tell you that I was against it in the first place."

Jax laughed. "Noted. But trust me; I know what I am doing. It's for the best for the club."

"I better hope so," muttered Chibs and left. Bemused, Jax shook his head. Chibs was taking this way too personally. This might be understandable; after all he and Juice had been good friends before. Jax certainly wouldn't have been thrilled if Opie had betrayed the club. But Juice was currently more use them alive than dead and he couldn't let emotions cloud his judgment.

He left the garage and went to his room to check on Juice. True to his word, the Puerto Rican waited on his bed, a slightly haunted look in his eyes. Apparently, he hadn't expected such an unfriendly welcome from Chibs. He looked truly miserable when he looked up at Jax with his big, sad eyes. In the past, this might have moved Jax but now he let his cold side take over and did a quick assessment of Juice. He was a danger to the club and a proven rat but desperate, needy and starving for kindness at the same time. Jax had used this to control him and would continue to do so now. He would give Juice the prospect of becoming a real member again and use this mercilessly to turn him into his tool. He would be his living weapon, his infiltrator and agent. And he likely would even be thankful for the chance. "Are you alright?"

"I guess," Juice said but it was easy to hear that he wasn't. "Wasn't the welcome I expected."

"Chibs will come around," Jax answered, the lie flowing easily from his tongue. "You just have to give him some time and show you are still a brother."

The hope in Juice's eyes was almost too much. Damn, he was so easy to play it was disturbing. "Are we good, Jax?"

Jax carefully put a hand on the back of Juice's neck. "Yeah, Juice, we are. Just do what I say and I am sure I can turn the rest of the club around sooner or later."

Juice nodded and Jax was pretty sure that right now he could ask him to do anything. Pity he didn't have anything to do for him at the moment. Juice couldn't do anything about Clay, Tig wasn't really a problem anymore and Tara was out of their reach. It might be emotionally and sexually frustrating but there was nothing he could do about his wife. Then a thought blew into his head, a very disturbing and still strangely alluring thought. Maybe he could use the Puerto Rican after all. If his feeling was right, it might tighten his control of Juice even further.

"Come to my house tonight," Jax said. "Nine o'clock. I have something we need to discuss in private. No word to anyone in the club."

"Alright," Juice said and now there was a hint of desperation in his face. At least part of the guy still seemed to resent his helplessness. Well, Jax would take care of that soon enough.

"Good." Jax stood up and gave Juice a clap on the shoulder. "Get some rest. I'll see you then."

Jax spent the next few hours getting the boys home, fed and to bed. He actually did some tidying up for Juice, but this was not a sign of appreciation but just for show. He had to appear in complete control this night and this was hard to do if you were tripping over your children's toys. The hardest part was convincing Happy to give him some space, but the Sergeant at Arms finally relented after some insistence. It was now a quarter to nine and Jax sat on his kitchen table, slowly smoking and ordering his thoughts. He was in a strange mental state, a part of him aghast with what he was about to do, while the other steadfastly insisted that it was not only the right thing to do, it might actually be fun. And wasn't that a disturbing thought. In moments like this, Jax questioned his sanity a bit. The latest events had badly shaken up Tara so it wasn't that outlandish to assume it might have damaged him a bit as well. But if that was the case, what should he do about it? He could hardly talk to a therapist about this. And his newfound coldness had worked out quite well for him so far.

At exactly nine o'clock there was a soft knock at his door. Jax smiled to himself – apparently all it took to finally get Juice to be on time was the lingering threat of a brutal death – and opened the door. Juice looked nervous but composed. Jax wondered what the Puerto Rican expected to happen here; probably a hit on a brother or something similar. He didn't know of Juice would be relieved or horrified when he heard the truth. "Hey, come in," Jax said giving Juice what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Juice did that and Jax closed the door behind him once he was sure nobody else was around. He didn't want any witnesses for what was about to come. "So, what is that about?" Juice asked, surprising Jax a bit. He hadn't expected him to boldly ask about it. Well, two could play that game

"I have a task for you," he said, keeping his voice low and serious. "I need you to do it and never tell anyone about this. If one word of this night reaches anyone in the club or outside, you are done! Do you understand me?"

Juice nodded. He didn't look happy but apparently had expected something like that. "Yes. What do you want me to do?"

"Take your shirt off."

This totally threw Juice off guard. "What?" Then horror spread on his face. "You want to burn my tattoos off? Please, Jax, don't do it! You said we were good!"

"Relax, that's not what I want. Everything is fine between us."

"Then why should I take my shirt off?"

Jax gave him a smile that was almost certainly evil. "Can't you guess that, Juicy?" he said, stepping closer to the smaller man. "My old lady is in jail and I really miss my morning blowjobs. But luckily I have you to help me."

Juice backed away from him "You can't be serious. I'm not doing that!"

"You bent over for Clay in Stockton, so don't play hard to get now. And don't you think you could use a little more love in your life? Now, take your shirt off!"

"And if I don't?"

"You know the answer to that question," Jax said, giving him the evilest leer he could manage. He would let Juice's imagination do most of the work for him; the result would likely more terrifying than anything he could come up on his own.

Juice swallowed and then carefully peeled off his cut. He put it over a nearby chair before pulling his shirt over his head. Now shirtless, he stood carefully still and let Jax give him the once-over. The President was quite pleased at what he saw. Juice had packed on some decent muscles over the years, though the view was marred by the tasteless "Son Shine" tattoo on his pectorals. Well, maybe Jax could fix that in time. First things first, though. He stepped closer to Juice and pressed his lips against the younger men's. Juice resisted for a moment but Jax persisted and after some time the Puerto Rican responded – if somewhat half-heartedly. But it seemed like Jax was right on track. Juice would give him what he wanted if he handled things carefully. And once he was inside the guy, he would pound him so hard they would both forget their troubles.

"My turn", he said, stepping away from Juice and shedding his own clothing. He kept a careful eye on the other member just in case Juice decided to bolt while Jax was busy pulling his shirt off. He needed have worried, though. Juice seemed to be too terrified to do anything other than stare at him. The fear in his eyes actually turned Jax on and wasn't that fucked up? Unlike Juice, he didn't stop when he was shirtless, but removed his jeans as well. Juice started at the bulge in his boxers with obvious terror. "Get on your knees."

"Jax, come on, man. I..."

"Now, Juice!"

Juice gave a resigned groan and did what he was told. He even showed some initiative and pulled Jax's boxers down on his own. Maybe he had switched tactics and now tried to just get it over with. When Jax's long, uncut dick was free, Juice wasted no time and swallowed it to the hilt. Jax gave a small groan. "Just like that, Juice. Suck my cock like you love it."

It was almost too good. Juice turned out to be quite a talented cocksucker – it made Jax wonder exactly how much experience the guy had – and the thought that Jax had the power to just force him to do that made him feel like a titan. When he felt his orgasm approaching – way faster than he would have liked – he placed his hands on Juice's head and stopped him. "That's enough. Get up."

Juice looked at him in relief and did what he was told. He grabbed at his shirt but Jax stopped him. "We are not finished! Get naked."

Every ounce of relief vanished form Juice's face in an instant. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to. Now, do what you are told! I promise you will like what comes now."

Apparently, Juice doubted that very much but he complied nevertheless. His jeans and underwear hit the floor, leaving him completely exposed to Jax's gaze. Again, the President was pleasantly surprised. Juice's cock was uncut like his and only slightly smaller. It seemed to be half-hard which told him that at least some part of Juice was enjoying his subjugation. Excellent, he would work with that. What really got his blood running was the fact that Juice was completely hairless; a stark contrast to Jax whose cock was surrounded by soft dirty blonde hair. Jax longed to touch Juice's dick but feared this might be too intimate. And they had to go somewhere else. Jax would not bend Juice over the kitchen table. "Follow me."

He steered the terrified Juice over to living room and pushed him onto the couch. Jax took a bottle of lube from the couch table and tossed it to the Puerto Rican. "Get your ass ready."

Juice looked at the bottle in his hand and slowly shook his head. Jax just smiled at him. "You should reconsider that. Refusing would just get you a dry fuck."

The Puerto Rican gaped at him before squirting some lube on his fingers. Before long, he had two fingers up his ass, working himself open for Jax's cock. It was a fascinating sight. Jax had never been with a guy – unless you counted some teenage experimentation with Opie which had ended with really awkward blowjobs – and had no idea what to expect. That was part of the reason why he let Juice prepare himself – he didn't want to appear clueless – the other was that it had to be especially humiliating. But Juice didn't seem to hate it that much, if his hard cock was an indication. Could be the fingering but Jax had the suspicion that Juice got off on being completely dominated. And wouldn't that be a great coincidence? "That's enough. Let's do this!"

Juice turned to get on his hands and knees as if reading Jax's mind. Jax grinned, lubed up his dick a bit for good measure and got on the couch behind him. He grabbed Juices hips and swiftly slammed into him in one go. "Fuck!" Juice gasped and Jax felt a bit overwhelmed himself. It was incredibly tight! Much tighter than any woman he had ever had. Jesus Christ, this would be fun!

"On it, babe," Jax said, bending down and pressing a kiss on his neck. "You like it hard, right? I Because I sure do."

He didn't wait for a response before pulling almost completely out and slamming back in. Juice arched in what could be pleasure but was probably pain. Jax was too far gone to care. This was better than he had expected! Juice was so hot, wet and tight that fucking him was pure ecstasy. But even more important was the incredibly rush of power that flooded his veins. He had never felt more powerful in his life, not even when he had killed Pope. Juice was his! Now there would be nothing he couldn't get the Puerto Rican to do for him! And Jax made a mental note to abuse this heavily as he pushed into him with quick brutal thrust. Just to fuck with the guy's head, he gave him some tenderness mixed with the brutal pace. A kiss on the neck or the back, a quick stroke on Juice's stiff cock – either Jax had found his sweet spot or he had been right with the submission kink –, anything that might feel Juice good in the otherwise horrible situation.

Jax didn't know if it was the power or the tightness but he came way too soon, spilling his seed deep inside Juice's ass. He stopped his ministrations immediately – even though he had the feeling Juice might be close as well – and pulled out. He got up from the couch and went looking for his clothing. He heard Juice sit up. "Fuck, did you use a rubber?" the other man said, apparently feeling the seed inside of him.

"No," Jax answered, grabbing his boxers.

"What? Why wouldn't you?"

"You didn't ask for one," Jax said with a smile.

Juice shook his head and stood up. His erection was starting to subside and Jax felt a pang of remorse for not getting him off, before shoving the emotion aside. "Are we done?" Juice asked.

"Yes," Jax said. He stepped close to Juice and gave him a tender kiss. "Thanks, Juicy. I needed that."

Juice looked like he was about to cry. "No problem, Pres."