Chapter Seven: Out of the blue

Gasping, Juice woke up. He shoved himself upright. His hands came away wet from his face. It was just sweat. That much he could see by the faint glow of the alarm clock. As he tried to find the light switch, something crashed to the floor. Sounded like a gun.

'Damn,' he mumbled and then, 'Chibs?'

The space next to him was empty. Still warm, though. Yeah, that was not a useful clue in this heat.

He continued to fumble for the switch. His fingers were trembling. It was infuriating. Feeling disoriented was one thing. Vulnerable? Not fucking okay. It was a dream. Dreams meant nothing. Juice desperately attempted to stick to that philosophy, but it didn't work this time. The blood might not be there now, but it had been.

When he reached for the switch again, he located it immediately. His heart was beating so fast that it was almost humming. He flipped the switch and blinked. Chibs's clothes were gone. His gun too. Juice gave up and lay back.

Then he heard a sound coming from the living room. Quickly, Juice stepped into his boxer shorts, picked up his gun and went to investigate.

Fully dressed, Chibs was standing by the front door. He had obviously hoped for a quiet getaway and he didn't seem pleased that he hadn't succeeded. They looked at each other across the expanse.

The Scotsman's entire bearing screamed 'this is not a big deal, so let's not make it into one.' No matter how hard Juice tried, however, he couldn't help feeling defeated. He didn't fail to notice how Chibs's hand hovered above the door handle either. He is itching to get the fuck out of here, Juice realised.

'Roosevelt wanted a sample. To test, or something. I don't know. He knew about my dad: I had to. So, I took the brick and when I tried to put it back Miles caught me. We fought. I won. And then you told me nobody gave a shit about who my dad was, but I was already in too deep. I couldn't stop. It wasn't the Sons they were after. They promised me the club would be safe if I did what they said.'

The speech was muddled, but the message was clear: he had betrayed the club. It wasn't what he had wanted to say. Or maybe it was. Anyway, it was pathetic. He especially resented that whole feeble, 'but it wasn't us they wanted' bit. As if that was a fucking excuse.

'Fuck!' Juice whispered. He felt like adding about a million more expletives – because, why the hell did he do that? He didn't fucking get himself sometimes – but he wisely decided to shut up.

Fuck me, he thought. Fuck me for stupidly assuming that Chibs was going to stay the night. Fuck me for even thinking that his presence would help. Fuck me for putting this on him. Just, fuck me.

Juice sat down. He dropped his head, because it felt like lead. Placed his gun next to the full ash tray on the kitchen table.

It started out as a few wayward drops, but soon the rain was pouring down. Instead of alleviating the tension, the drops that fell angrily on the tin roof emphasised how screwed he was.

Suddenly, Chibs was in front of him and clutching his shoulders. Juice released a shuddering breath at the contact.

'Is it over?' Chibs hissed. Juice nodded, numbly.

'Did you sign anything?'

The first boom of thunder reverberated through the apartment, drowning out his reply and breaking through his thin veneer of calm. Chibs gently guided Juice's shaven head towards his stomach. Juice gratefully rested his forehead against the fabric. When he tried to repeat what he'd said, Chibs silenced him by pulling him even closer.

'Never mind,' Chibs murmured. Fingers brushed across Juice's scalp. He buried his face deeper in the dirty leather and braced himself against Chibs's frame.

'It's a'right, Juice. I got you.'

Outside, the rain reached a startling crescendo. A bolt of lightning branched downward raggedly and briefly illuminated the apartment. Juice pulled away.

'Will you always be this nice to me?'

Chibs looked at Juice for a long time before answering. Narrowing his eyes, he curled his fingers around the back of the chair. The only sounds were of the rain gushing off the roof and drumming against the windows. Finally, Chibs nodded reluctantly.

'Aye.'

And fuck if that didn't raise every hair on the back of Juice's neck.

'Mind tellin' me why?'

Chibs caught Juice's wrist. He circled the bruises with his thumb, keeping the touch just light enough for Juice to feel no pain. When Juice sighed, Chibs responded by inching his fingers up Juice's arm. Slowly, he traced the lean muscles and bones underneath the skin.

A little tug on Juice's elbow and he was on his feet. The rain pounding on the roof muffled the sound of their breathing. Juice kissed the scar tissue, silently cursing that fucker Jimmy O. He licked into Chibs's mouth, winding his arms around the other man. Chibs's strong hands were on Juice's hips, applying pressure to his hip bone.

Speed was a guy thing. Rushing through – and sometimes completely skipping - the kissing and foreplay to have sex as soon as possible was standard procedure for them. That was what Juice had always thought. It was what he did, after all. Yet, Chibs still made no attempt to move on to the next stage. They were kissing, almost lazily, and Chibs was deliberately slowing them down by kissing at the corner of Juice's mouth.

His tongue flickered against Juice's lips, but never parted them. Their stubble caused a subtle friction that would probably rub them raw if they kept going. Unable to take it any longer, Juice slipped his hands into Chibs's jeans. Smiling, the Scotsman stepped back.

'Bedroom,' Chibs said. It was the same thing he had said before, but different.

Juice waited on the bed while Chibs undressed. It was better this time. More familiar. More intimate. Juice felt less awkward at having Chibs enter him. They waited for what felt like forever before they finally moved. Their rhythm remained constant throughout.

While Chibs fucked him unhurriedly, Juice sucked on his shoulder, trying to taste the tattoos. His teeth grazed the perspiring skin, leaving tiny blotches that changed from white to red as he watched. He bit down a little harder to leave a lasting impression. It seemed only right after Chibs had marked his wrist.

Deciding to try something, Juice rolled them over and almost off the bed. He then proceeded to ride Chibs. In between thrusts, Juice murmured embarrassing stuff. It mostly consisted of such gems as, 'Come on, fuck me. Harder. I'm so close.' Somehow, when he got nearer to his release, these two priceless words were uttered:

'Love you.'

Horrified, Juice froze. Chibs pretended not to have heard, which didn't exactly ease Juice's growing panic. The Scotsman took the opportunity to reclaim control and flip them over. He pinned Juice to the mattress and simply resumed their earlier leisurely rhythm.

Juice ignored how fucking good the new angle felt, which allowed Chibs to slide a little bit deeper inside, and tried to explain away his declaration.

'That wasn't... I don't mean... Damn. I mean, it's true, but I didn't mean to, you know, say it. It kind of slipped out. Don't say anything.'

As requested, Chibs didn't respond, but continued to bring them closer to the climax. Wearily, Juice reconsidered Chibs's motives. One time was a favour; two times was something else. It was nice too, like Chibs had promised.

'I don't need you to be nice,' he choked out, confused. Again, Chibs didn't speak. He merely picked up the pace. Juice averted his gaze, looking at the rain sweeping in plummeting sheets past the open window. The comforting sound of the brimming gutters soothed his inner turmoil somewhat.

Storms, water overflowing, cleaning the gutters; that was part of regular life. It was normal. This was not. Having sex with your friend and telling him you love him and having him be so nice to you through it all really wasn't normal.

Chibs brought him back to the fucked up present by kissing him. Instinctively, Juice returned the kiss. They moaned into the other's mouths, their breaths hot on strange lips. Juice slicked Chibs's hair back, because it kept tickling his face. Their eyes locked for a moment. That did it.

They shook against each other during, continuing to slowly fuck through their orgasms. Afterwards, they untangled quickly, but not unkindly. As they lay awake in his bed, Juice repeated it over and over in his mind.

One time is a favour; two times is something else.

Shyly, Juice reached out, letting his arm nonchalantly fall across the other man's body. Chibs didn't push him away. He didn't move at all. After a few seconds, Juice lost heart. He withdrew his arm. Without missing a beat, Chibs turned towards him and put the arm back in its former place. Around his bare chest.

(***)

Author's note: I cheated a little bit with the title here. The song is actually called Hey Hey, My My by Neil Young or My My, Hey Hey as its acoustic counterpart is named, but the subtitles are, respectively, Into the Black or Out of the Blue. The latter title simply works better with the content of the chapter.