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Heather and strawberries.

The deceptively soft scent hits him with all the startling force of a freezing ocean wave, shocking the air from his lungs and dousing the flame of arousal like water on a campfire.

He knows that scent.

Fiona.

He turns away from Chibs neck, exhaling as sharply as if he had suffered a punch to the gut - which essentially it is. He had heard whispers Fi was in town, but when he'd asked Chibbie yesterday if he'd seen her, he had told Juice that he hadn't. His body tenses briefly with the realisation that his lover had obviously lied to him, it makes him wonder at the reason - before he catches hold of that scent again on the pillow under his head, that is - then he knows why and it guts him. He feels his eyes pricking, ready to shed tears, but quickly shakes it off and pulls a mask of indifference in place.

If Chibs wasn't so attuned to every inch of the lad's body - in fact, he knew it almost better than his own - he could have easily mistaken the exhale and nearly imperceptible tensing of Juice's body for signs of arousal as he slowly kisses and bites his way down the tanned column of his neck. His gut tells him he can't ignore it, no matter how much his aching cock wants him to.

“Wha'sa matter, Juicy?” he whispers hotly against the skin beneath his lips, keeping up his assault on the lad's exposed neck. He has a sudden twinge in his gut and a sense of unease floods through him when his boy neither answers nor will look at him, laying still and silent beneath him. “Come on, love, tell me.” The throaty desirous tone is matched with a dirty roll of his hips against the man beneath him and he realises - for the first time since he and Juice started whatever this is - that the lad isn't even hard. That definitely marks trouble because his boy is always at least half hard whenever Chibs is around and his obvious lack of arousal right now makes the Scot's stomach flip uncomfortably.

“Donnae know how ta fix it less ya tell me wha's wrong, ya numpty.” His fondly amused chuckle and attempt at levity die as Juice quickly pulls away from him, retrieving his shirt and tugging it over his head as he sits on the edge of the bed to put his boots on. Chibs thinks back over the last few minutes for what he may have accidentally said or done as he stares at the lad's back, completely drawing a blank as to what triggered the sudden change of mood.

Juice snorts derisively and shakes his head, mumbling “Why'd I even think I stood a chance …” under his breath as he gets to his feet and makes a break for the bedroom door.

Chibs is behind him in two strides and without thinking of anything other than keeping him from leaving, his hand clamps around Juice's bicep and holds firm in an effort to stall his exit. Unfortunately, just months out of Stockton, Juice reacts on pure instinct, spinning around and landing a hard right to Chibs' jaw.

“Get the fuck off me, motherfucker!” his voice is full of panic as he frees his other arm from Chibs' grasp.

“Christ! You gone daft, laddie?” He knows his voice is just an octave below furious as he rubs his aching jaw. Juicy may be the smallest of the Sons, but the boy knows how to pack a wallop that rivals one of Opie's.

“Shit, Chibbie-” the remorse on his face shows briefly as he takes a half-step forward before he changes his mind and turns his back on Chibs and rubs the back of his neck roughly. “M'just- … just don't grab me like that, alright?”

“Fuck.” Chibs curses under his breath, his eyes close and his head tilts back, realising what a stupid move he just made and that Juice's reaction is no one's fault but his own. He knows better, is always careful not to startle the lad, but he panicked, was so set on keeping him from leaving, he just – forgot.

It had been months since Stockton, but Juice still has problems when someone manages to sneak up on him from behind. He can feel the adrenaline surging through his veins, his breathing ragged and for a moment he flashes back to the prison yard in Stockton and remembers the pain. He takes a deep breath to try to calm the need to hit something - or someone. He rolls his shoulders, flexing his back to stretch out the sudden phantom aches of the long-healed wounds.

Chibs watches the movement, entranced as always by the play of taut muscles as they move beneath the thin cotton of his t-shirt. He reaches out and lightly traces over where he knows the scars to be. Now though, they are blissfully hidden by the fabric and Chibs is glad - the sight of them is a painful reminder of how close he came to losing Juice and how he wasn't there to protect him.

Even though he knows in his head that Zobelle is ultimately to blame, he feels as responsible for Juicy's injuries as if he had inflicted them himself. He believes that if he had been smart enough to realise there was a bomb after that first unsuccessful key turn, that it might have changed everything. Or if maybe he had been that much quicker - getting himself free from the blast zone in time – things would be different. Sadly, life is full of 'what ifs' and hindsight is always 20/20.

He'd still been in hospital recovering from the blast under watch by the feds while all that shit went down. Had he not been, then maybe they might not have gone to the MCC with weapons loaded and looking for blood that night and ending up getting nicked instead. He knows how flawed that logic is, but when it comes to Juice, he can't always think clearly. Sometimes just looking at the lad puts him at sixes and sevens.

He traces over the scar by Juice's kidney, gritting his teeth in residual anger at the thought of his Juicy - yes, HIS Juicy - having his loyalty to Clay and willingness to help the club used and abused. Wielding the gavel tends to twist up even the saintliest of men, they get drunk on the power - Clay was a textbook example - and he is certainly as far from a saint as a bloke can get. The man 'leads by greed', he thinks he remembers Piney saying once. Smart one, that.

He lost a fair amount of respect for Clay after finding out the exact why and how his boy ended up with a shiv in his back twice for his troubles - being used as bait by Clay, who'd used Juice's loyalty and strong-armed the lad into 'taking one for the team'. He was furious and ready to reign down hellfire on Clay, but Juice talked him down as only he can do, always Chibs' calming force, his ever-present voice of reason. Any reaction would only call attention to them, to there being something more between them than just the love for a fellow brother and while they figured some of the others had an idea of what was going on, there was no need to prove it to be fact.

Chibs' right arm slides up Juice's side to curl up under his arm, his palm stopping over Juice's surging heart while his left arm winds tightly around his waist, snugging them together chest to back. He presses a gentle kiss to the side of the lad's neck and holds them there, his breath flowing warm and wet over Juice's skin.

“How's 'bout ya tell me wha' tha fuck's got yer knickers in a knot, yeah?”

Those words - if delivered right then by anyone else - would seem harsh and accusatory, but Juice can only hear confusion and genuine concern, that and well - love. He knows he was just imagining that last emotion and that thought chokes him up, his breath hitching because he knows he is only deluding himself into believing that Chibbie feels anything for him - after all, what chance does he stand when the man is obviously still in love with Fiona? The IRA, an ocean and crazy Jimmy O can't even keep them apart. No, he is just there to scratch an occasional and temporary itch for the Scot - no more no less - even if he desperately wishes it were otherwise.

Chibs hears the catch in his boy's breath and he feels that tight knot of dread in his stomach tighten to the point where he actually wonders if he might not hold down this morning's fry-up. His arms tighten around Juice, determined to find out what the fuck is wrong with the lad and hopefully get back to the more pleasurable part of this morning before it all went to shit.

“Lemme go, Chibbie, please...” it is barely a whisper and his voice sounds all wrong to the Scot's ears, all flat and emotionless.

“Christ, you're scarin' me, Juicy. S'wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Doesn't matter, lemme go.”

“I'm not goin' ta ask you again, boy. Wha' happened? Cos' you was gantin fer it a minute ago n' now ye cannae get away from me fast enough. So... What. Happened?”

The silence following his question stretches on for what seems like an eternity and he is about to lose his calm and shake the boy to get some kind of a reaction when Juice finally answers him.

“Heather and strawberries … Fiona's perfume.”

The words are barely audible, but Chibs hears them as loudly as a booming thunderhead and the way Juice says them, with no emotion at all, his voice cold and resigned - scares the bejeesus out of him. No other words are needed, he knows what Juice must be thinking and the guilt of not telling Juice before now that he loves him and only him is overwhelming - though now is definitely not the time for revealing that fact. He knows Juicy'll only think he is somehow forcing the other man into making the declaration and will never believe that he truly means it, but he knows he has to try and explain why Fi's perfume is all over his bed.

“Juicy-”

“Don't. It's alright. You don't owe me an explanation or anything, I get it.” He pries Chibs' arms from around him and takes a step toward the door and pauses, his hand resting on the knob, “I'll get whatever stuff you have at my place together tonight and I'll bring it to you when I come back to get mine tomorrow.”

It takes him a second to realise what Juice is saying and the guilt turns to anger as soon as Juice starts to pull the door open. Chibs slams his open palm onto the wood loudly, slamming it closed. He is so fucking angry, both at himself for letting the lad feel so insecure about his place in Chibs' life and also at Juice because he obviously thinks so little of himself or of them - that he doesn't think he's worth it, or maybe that Chibs would never choose him over Fi - that he won't even fight for it, he's just willing to give it up like it means nothing.

The anger flowing through him is quickly quelled by the fear that maybe that's all this is to Juice - nothing, just a fling, a way to get his rocks off, to scratch an itch, a way to kill time til something better comes along or worse yet - like he's some goddamn sweetbutt or crow-eater, there for a fuck and then out in the morning. And the anger comes surging back.

“Where'n the fuck ya thin' yer goin'? You cannae drop tha' bollocks on me n' then just walk outta here, laddie. You thin'in I got'na right ta defend m'self when I'm accused'a shite I dinnae do?”

'Fuck me.' Juice hangs his head forward but doesn't turn around - he can't - not now, not with the instant raging hard-on he's sporting from Chibbie's anger-thickened brogue having worked it's magic. That thickness his accent gets from too much anger or too much drink - it's like instant viagra. He closes his eyes and curses his body's involuntary reaction to the Scot's accent. He can feel the war raging inside him between the resolve to end whatever this is between them with some dignity intact and the urgent and overpowering need to take Chibbie back to bed and fuck the living shit out of him, to mark him and stake his claim on the Scot.

He whirls around, grabbing Chibs by the thin scarf wrapped around his neck and slams him into the door, brutally crushing his lips against the other man's, tightening the scarf around his lover's throat til he hears Chibbie's breath hitch then grins smugly and forces his tongue between Chibs' lips. He feels more than hears the groan of pleasure as it resonates through every place their bodies touch, drawing a mournful, needy whine - that in any other instance he'd be embarrassed as hell by - from his own throat.

“Mine.”

The scarf tightens and Chibs' breath nearly stops altogether and his cock has taken a definite interest to the possessive tone of the word as it is growled out against lips before the lad plunders his mouth once again. Rough and dirty, all saliva and clashing teeth Juice keeps on until they both break apart gasping for much-needed oxygen.

“Aye love … s'right … s'all yours.”

“Shut. Up.” Juice grits out as he pins Chibs' hands above his head in one of his own, biting Chibs' bottom lip roughly while his other hand hastily unbuckles the Scot's belt. “Just shut up.”

He makes fast work of the button and zip, quickly slamming the man face-first against the door and pins him there with his chest while yanking the material just below the swell of his pale Scottish arse, then swiftly unfastening and lowering his own jeans.

“Gonna show you who you really belong to.” Juice hisses in his ear. He spits in his hand and strokes over his rock hard cock then he rubs it against the cleft of Chibs' arse which brings a filthy little moan from somewhere deep and hidden within the Scot.

'Och aye.' Chibs thumps his forehead into the door as Juice's breath ghosts warm and wet across the back of his neck and he releases a guttural groan, his throat goes dry and he swallows thickly. Jesus, is the lad trying to kill him? His cock is fucking harder than he can ever remember it being and this controlling, alpha-male side of Juicy is just too fucking hot to not indulge the lad - even though this was the first time Juice has shown any interest in being the one in charge, to have his cock buried inside Chibs, instead of the other way around.

“Ye gonnae keep talkin' shite, or r'ya gonnae shut yer gob n'get to it?” he snarks, knowing he is only winding the lad up and he could end up very sore if he pushes Juice too far, but he is more than willing to do anything to reassure the lad of who he belonged to as well - plus, he is rock hard and aching for Juicy to take him.

He has seen the way that boy can move those hips of his and he can't wait to feel those hips driving Juicy's beautiful cock in and out of him. He lets out a shuddering sigh of pleasure at the thought. He has been waiting for Juicy to get round to initiating it, could see the want in the lad's eyes, but Juice is so conditioned to putting his needs or wants behind those of the people closest to him - his needs and wants didn't matter as much as theirs - that Chibs had begun to think that he never would.

A sharp tug to his hair brings him back to the present as Juice's voice sounds in his ear, rough and thick with want. “I said shut up, Chibbie!” Juice's cock is wet and steadily leaking as he thrusts forward between Chibbie's arse cheeks and he groans near the older man's ear in a low whisper “Gonna make him feel me for days … so he'll know … show him that I can give him what she can't.”

Chibs realises how far gone the lad is, he clearly has no idea he is talking out loud, laying all his insecurities bare for his lover to hear. He can dwell on his guilt for letting Juicy feel that way later, but now he needs to relax himself as much as possible because he figures with the state Juicy is in, he isn't of a mind to worry about foreplay or making this an easy ride - and that was more than okay with him.

“S'that right, love? Yer gonnae give it t'me, are ya?” Next thing he knows, the head of Juice's cock is circling his hole all wet with pre-cum, spreading it around and he feels a thick bead of it slowly rolling down toward his full sac. He grins to himself as he relaxes his body and thrusts his hips backward, impaling himself on Juice in one push, moaning loudly in combined pleasure/pain as Juice bites down on his leather-covered shoulder. He tries to move, but Juice is quicker.

“Goddammit, stop moving!” He clings to Chibs' hips tightly, stilling them against his own until he has a second to adjust to the blazing heat and the delicious squeeze.

Chibs lets himself be held still and thank fuck the boy needed a minute because he had forgotten just how long it has been since he'd had a prick up his arse - and he'd forgotten just how big Juicy is, as well - and he bites his lower lip to stifle the sounds of pain as the burning stretch eases to a dull ache. Three strokes in and all pain was forgotten as Juicy slams directly into his prostate and stars explode behind his eyes bright as midnight.

“S'fuckin hot … so hot.” Juice is bathed in searing heat with every stroke, Chibs' body a glove-tight sheath around his throbbing cock. He's covered in sweat already, the house is an oven at the best of times and fucking with all his clothes on? Not one of his better ideas. Fucking Chibs? Best. Idea. EVER.

“Aye, love … Right there … Jesus, Juicy.” Chibs should be ashamed of the way he is begging right now, but damn if Juicy-boy doesn't know how to work his cock! Again and again the head of Juice's cock grazes over that spot, like some sort of magnetic pull, he just can't miss it no matter how he rolls or twists his hips and if it didn't feel so goddamn good right now, he'd also be ashamed of just how quickly Juicy's gotten him unraveled.

He's so close now, his balls drawing up tight against his body, his thighs quaking and threatening to give out any minute. Juice's hips slap out a staccato rhythm against Chibs' arse, keeping them both on edge, almost there, but still a million miles off and it's maddening, but if this is to be the last time he's with Chibs, he'll definitely make it a fuck neither man ever forgets. He presses his forehead to the cool leather between Chibbie's shoulder blades as he revels in every pant of breath and obscene moan he draws out of the Scot.

Chibs arches back and meets him stroke for stroke, driving Juice deeper and deeper, using the door for leverage. He knows he will be feeling Juicy for days with the way the lad is riding him and he wouldn't have it any other way. He mentally kicks himself for waiting on Juice to initiate this, if he knew it'd be this goddamn good, he'd have been begging for it from the jump. He can hear the sounds he's making, begging, greedy noises like a filthy whore – and dammit, he realises he is a whore – a whore for Juicy's cock, because he knows he will do anything the lad wants to feel like this again.

“So fucking close …” Juice's hips stutter and slow, he can feel himself reaching the edge much sooner than he wanted to, but Chibbie just feels too damn good around him.

“Fucking Christ, boy! Don't you stop … fuckin' ... me!” He's almost there, his vision blurring at the edges and Juicy hasn't even touched his cock. Three more hard strokes is all it takes and he's coming harder than he ever has before, his spunk painting streak after streak on the door in front of him. His lungs seize and he can't breathe as his world goes dark and he slumps against the door.

“Oh fuck, babe.” Juice feels Chibs' channel constricting around him, hears his name cried out in a gravel-thick shout and then he's gone.

Juice closes his eyes, draws in a ragged breath, digs his fingers almost painfully into the skin and pulls out slowly before slamming back in to the root one more time as he follows Chibs over the edge, shooting burst after hot burst inside the man, knowing full well the Scot will be sporting the same tell-tale bruises and crescent shaped marks he'd often admired on his own hips come tomorrow.

That knowledge has him grinning wickedly, filled to bursting with the satisfaction of knowing anyone who sees those marks will know how they got there and a few might even guess as to who put them there. He knows he should have been more careful, but he was too angry, too fired up by jealousy to care - but most of all, he knows that when she sees them, she'll know as well.

∞--------∞

∞--------∞

Chibs slowly regains his senses one by one. He can feel the leather of his cut warming on his back with every ragged exhale against it from Juice and the lad's fingers are still clutching his hips in a death grip. His body is slumped in a boneless heap against the bedroom door and the weight of Juice's body is the only thing holding him upright, that and Juicy's cock – which is still rock hard, amazingly – embedded in his arse.

“Got me confused with a hydrant, Juicy-boy?” he chuckles.

“H-huh?” he stutters through another ragged breath, the confusion evident in his voice and Chibs knows even though he can't see the lad's face that it is all scrunched up in that cute way it does whenever Juice is confused.

“I asked ye if ye got me confused with a hydrant. Figgered ye did wha' wit' the way ye was markin' yer territ'ry …”

Juice finally catches on to what he meant and huffs a laugh. “Asshole.”

Chibs chuckles and squeezes himself tighter around Juice's pulsing cock, drawing a low throaty moan from the vicinity of what sounded like the lad's toes. “Aye, I got one and from the feel'a ye, ye ain't done with it yet, are ye Juicy?” As he bares down on Juice again the other man growls and his fingers bite into Chibs skin, the pain quickly ebbing to pleasure and his cock is showing signs of renewed interest.

Juice bites the back of Chibs' neck hard and growls at him around teeth full of skin, “Fuck! Knock it off, Chibbie!”

“How's about ye pull it out instead n' we go fer round two o'er on tha bed, aye?”

At the mention of the bed, Juice's previously unrelenting erection immediately flags, a fact that doesn't escape Chibs' notice – mostly because he suddenly doesn't feel like he's being split half any more. He had wanted to take him back to the bed to show the lad what he hasn't been able to say with words. He knows they need to hash this shite out quick before he loses the lad over something that didn't even happen. The little drama princess has a tendency to turn paper cuts into amputated limbs in his mind if left to think on something too long.

Juice's heart sinks to his stomach as Chibbie mentions the bed and thoughts of the Scot and Fiona sharing it last night set his teeth on edge. He withdraws from Chibs roughly as soon as he loses his hard-on and feels a grim satisfaction at the loud hiss of pain he hears from the man. 'Serves you right, fucker.' he thinks as he tucks himself back into his jeans, watching his lover - no, not his lover, not anymore - Chibs out of the corner of his eye as he does the same.

“Juice. Hey Juicy, listen to me.” Chibs has to walk around the boy to get his attention, his eyes are firmly locked on the bed. His face a blank mask, but his eyes burn with hatred like he wants to rip the thing to oblivion and set it ablaze. “Juicy, Fi was here last night an' I-”

Juice's face contorts in a pained grimace as he holds up his hands and backs away from Chibs as if burned. “I don't wanna hear the dirty details, man. I get it. It's over.”

“Just like that? Yer done? Wha' tha fuck was that then? One last time for ol' times sake?” he shouted, gesturing towards the door.

“What the hell do you expect me to do, Chibbie? Share you? You wanna threesome or something? Cause lemme tell ya, that ain't gonna fucking happen, man.” he hisses, his disgust at the thought showing clear as day on his face.

“Donnae go puttin' words in ma mouth, Juicy-boy. I ne'er said tha's what I wanned now did I, lad?” he huffs an exasperated sigh. He opens his mouth to continue, but Juice beats him to it.

“What the fuck do you want from me Chibbie?!” He hears his voice waver, feels his eyes pricking with tears and hates himself for the display of weakness – so much for keeping his dignity.

“Juicy ...” Chibs voice is soft, almost pleading and if it sounds like he is begging, he doesn't care. “She was here, when I got home last night,” Juice opens his mouth as if to say something, but Chibs holds up a stalling hand and continues “waitin' in ma bed asleep. Tha's why ye smelled her perfume.” Juice looks like he is going to interrupt again but Chibs keeps on speaking, “And before ye ask, I dinnae know she was here when ye asked me. It's not ma fault, I dinnae-”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? You didn't purposely lie to me, so I'm supposed to just, what, be okay with the fact that you fucked her? What kind of twisted shit is that?” Juice knows he is reaching the end of his control over his emotions, he can hear the beginnings of tears in his voice as he yells at Chibs. “I can't do it, bab-” he chokes back a sob as a tear breaks free and rolls down his cheek as he whispers, “please don't ask me to do that.” He looks away and swipes away the tear roughly with the back of his hand, the muscles in his jaw tight and trembling, knowing if he doesn't leave right now he's gonna start full-on crying in front of Chibs and that's the last thing he wants to do.

Chibs closes the distance between them and grabs Juice by the biceps. “Ju-” his voice falters and he swallows painfully around the lump in his throat, knowing he has to set the lad straight about last night quickly or he will lose him – and he's not willing to think about how he'd survive that. Truth is, he's not sure he would, not without crawling inside a bottle for a good long while. “Juicy, please look at me, love. Please, I need ta know yer hearin' me.” He gently cups Juice's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking his lover's cheeks and tilts his face up so he can look him in the eyes. His own eyes lose the battle to hold in tears when the lad finally looks up and he sees the devastation on Juice's face. “Oh, Juicy … I sen' her away fore an'athin happened. I did, Juicy, I promise ye. Cos' I know why she's here, wha' she's tryin'a do an why … it's cos'a what she saw in Belfast – or more wha' she dinnae see when I looked at 'er. Love.”

Juice knows Chibs is still talking, but he slowly loses focus and the Scot's voice ebbs away to a dull murmur before any of the words register. He is beyond confused, his thoughts all a jumbled-up mess and tangled in emotions that he'd rather not feel. None of them are new, though, he's old friends with them all. Rejection, betrayal, anger, disappointment, self-loathing and feeling utterly helpless as his world crumbles around him – for him, that's just a case of 'same shit, different day' – but it's worse this time because it's Chibbie. Chibs has been his steadying support since the first day he rode in to Teller-Morrow, long before anything ever happened between them. If Chibbie doesn't want him …

“I don' love her an'a more, Juicy, an she knows it. Tha's why she came here like she did, got 'erself all cosied up in ma bed. Thought a lil' twist in'a sheets'd turn it round fer 'er, get me on'er hook again. I told her 'm done … been done, tha' I love you.” Chibs cringes when he sees that Juicy has withdrawn so far inside himself, his eyes have that dead, faraway look. He has no idea at what point in his explanation Juice drifted out, but it is obvious lad missed all the important parts. “Did ye hear me, love? Said I love you, Juicy-boy … I do. Have done a while now, jus not man enough ta say it fore now.” Chibs hears a sharp strangled sound from deep inside Juice and clutches him tighter, guiding them carefully to the floor when the boy's legs give out.

He is so far detached from himself that he hears the first sobs wrack his own body more than he feels them, never notices himself being gently lowered to the floor. Chibbie's arms are warm and solid around him, his strong hands run soothing and calm over Juice's back while his warm breath ghosts across the shell of his ear, whispering something. He's saying … 'Oh shit, I've finally lost it … it sounds like he's saying he loves me.'

Chibs' concern for his boy starts to grow as he continues to get no response from Juice apart from the sobbing, his gaze still blank and unfocused. He shakes Juicy roughly, his voice bordering on total panic. “Goddammit Juicy, fuckin talk ta me, boy!” He cups Juice's head firmly between his hands and presses their foreheads together, finally reduced to helpless begging. “Please love, say somethin, an'athin, even if it's ta tell me wha'a right bloody bastard I am.” He stares into Juice's vacant eyes and can't hide the anguish in his voice, he's beyond caring now about showing Juice know how weak the lad makes him. “Juicy-” his voice cracks as the tears spill down his cheeks, “yer scarin the shite outta me, love. Please, talk to me sweetheart.”

Juice feels oddly disconnected, like his mind and his body are just this much out of sync with one another. He sees and hears everything Chibs is saying and doing but it's as if it's on a time delay, or like he's dreaming, everything all blurred at the edges. He hears Chibs telling him that he loves him – only him, in fact – and he knows now that he's dreaming because if he's learned anything in his life it's that if something sounds too good to be true, then it is.

“I said I love ye, did ye hear me lad?” He crushes his lips against his boy's, kissing him like he never had before, pouring every emotion into that one kiss in hopes that it would bring Juicy round again. He tilts Juice's face to a better angle, their mouths slotting together like pieces of a puzzle as the ferocity of the kiss subsides into something softer, but retaining all the passion from the start of it.

Juice isn't responding at first, but gradually the haze begins to clear and Chibs' words begin to sink in. 'He said he loves me. He and Fi didn't- he sent her away because he- because he loves me.', Chibs passion is warming him bit by bit, bringing up from the depths as the feeling floods into him through their fused lips. 'Jesus. All of this- the hurt and anger at Chibs- what I almost threw away- when he didn't even-. Christ, I'm an idiot.' Hysterical laughter ripples through him when he finally gets it.

Chibs pulls away from the kiss, startled by the abrupt change in the lad's behaviour and his concern turns to relief as he sees the light back in Juicy's eyes and a bright, genuine smile on his face. Juice sees the concern on Chibs' face and his laughter ceases almost as quickly as it began. He stares at Chibs for what seems like an eternity before reaching a tentative hand out to stroke the side of his face, his brow furrowed. “I-” his voice cracks with emotion and he swallows thickly before trying again. “I'm so sorry, babe. I should have trusted you, should have known. I just- I mean, it was her, Chibbie. If it was anyone else but her-”

“You'd what? Be okay wit it?” He hissed and waited for Juice to answer, hoping he'd say no because truth is, for the last few months, it took all the control he had to not pry the throngs of draping crow-eaters off the lad by their hair. He hated the necessity for them, but in order to keep from rousing the others' suspicions about the obvious bond he and Juicy share, they are a necessary evil - simply a means to an end.

“No, I fucking hate having to watch those cunts drape themselves all over you … see them kiss you” his jaw tightens “watch them follow you to the dorms, knowing that you're gonna fuck them-” his nostrils flare in anger and he rolls his shoulders as if shaking off the image and quickly continues, “but I know we have to or too many people will start to question us. Doesn't mean I have to like it though. Honestly? Makes me think about doing some pretty fucked-up shit to 'em, too.”

Chibs lets out a visible sigh of relief and chuckles. “Jesus, I thought it was jus me wantin to do things to'm I's brought up never to do to a woman.” He presses their foreheads together again and kisses him softly. “What a pair the two of us make, eh love?” he whispers against Juice's lips.

“Yeah, we do. Pair of what I don't know, but we…” He flashes a filthy grin as he climbs onto Chibbie's lap and their groins rub against one another, closing his eyes and moaning obscenely. “unh yeah, definitely fit together perfectly.” He emphasises the statement with a seductive roll of his hips, causing Chibs to inhale sharply and thrust up against him.

“Aye love, an tha way tha cock'o yers fit perfect in ma arse just a bit ago … felt bloody fantastic, lemme tell ye. Had me gone wit'out ye even touchin ma cock, dinnae ye boy?” the whispered words in his ear send a shock of pleasure down his spine as Chibs fingers clutch his hips, rubbing their denim-clad erections against each other roughly.

Juice arches his back and moans, his face a picture of total ecstasy. “Oh fuck, Chibbie … you felt so good. You were so tight around my cock and unh, so hot. Christ … I could fuck you forever. Fuck, babe … you feel how hard it makes me just thinking about it?”

“Ye cannae wait ta sink tha long, fat cock'o yers in ma arse, can ye? Tha wha yer gonnae do, lad? Gonna fuck me again, love? ” Chibs is panting hard beside Juice's ear, relentlessly rutting against Juice til his cock is steadily weeping and dampening the fabric of his jeans. He trails wet, greedy, open mouth kisses up and down the tanned neck as Juice wriggles in his lap.

Juice pulls the Scot's hair hard and revels in the guttural groan he draws from the man and licks a stripe up to his lover's ear to taunt him. “I think you want me to fuck you again, don't you, babe? Get a taste of it and now you want more? Is that it? You love having my cock inside you, filling you up, fucking you til you see stars …” he pauses, panting breath after breath hotly in Chibs' ear, “cumming inside you?”

“Jesus, Juicy!” Chibs crushes his mouth to Juice's, his tongue frantically exploring the hidden depths. He breaks the kiss and pulls up Juice's tshirt, latching his mouth around an exposed nipple, his tongue teasing and teeth nipping the tender flesh while his hands clutch desperately at the smooth expanse of Juice's back. Juice pulls his tshirt the rest of the way off then grabs Chibs by the nape of his neck, pulling Chibs' head closer as he moves to the other nipple.

“Oh, fuck.” Juice presses a kiss to the top of Chibbie's head, his hands sliding down broad shoulders to the Scot's cut and up under it, pushing it off the man. As Chibs kisses his way up his throat, Juice grabs the hem of the other man's wifebeater, pulling it up and off in one motion, the removal of the fabric briefly separating Chibs' hungry mouth from his skin. Unsteady hands reach for the thin scarf around the man's neck and are immediately stilled.

“Leave it.” the lust-laden command goes straight to Juice's cock and he feels it twitch as a bead of pre-cum rolls slowly down the underside of his shaft, quickly seeping into his boxer briefs and he moans in pleasure at the sensation.

A devilish grin spread across Juice's face. “Liked how amazing it felt when I tightened it around your throat before, huh? Made you cum harder and longer, didn't it, babe? Bet you want me to do it again.” Juice taunted the Scot, his hot breath ghosting over Chibs' ear and the man rewarded him with a desperate keen. “You do, you kinky bastard.” he chuckles fondly.

“Please.” Chibs was so far gone, his cock now aching painfully, he really had no idea anymore what he was even asking for, he just needed to cum so badly.

Juice leans back awkwardly to untie Chibs' boots, while the Scot leans forward so as not to lose contact with Juice's neck. Luckily, Juice has no trouble reaching his own laces as well from his position and makes quick work of them. He pulls off both of their boots and socks in record time and pushes Chibs flat on his back on the floor. Grinning, he slowly slides his body along the Scot's, settling his hips down between Chibbie's thighs, pressing their cocks together as he surges forward and takes Chibs' mouth in a brutal kiss.

Chibs returns the kiss with equal enthusiasm, his hands roving wildly over Juice's body, never content to stay still for more than a second. He slides his hands down inside the back of Juicy's jeans, grabbing the lad's arse cheeks, his fingers flexing as he holds him still and thrusts his hips. His breath hitches as he feels the sudden pressure around his throat, his eyes following the line of scarf and stopping on Juice's fist which is wound tightly in the ends.

Juice is staring into Chibs' eyes during the kiss and he watches while he twists the scarf ends around his hand, sees them darken the second he feels the constriction. The lust in his eyes isn't the only sign of just how much Chibbie's getting off on having his oxygen restricted – the man is hard as a fucking rock against his hip. Juice suddenly realises that it will not take much at all to make Chibs cum just like this and it thrills him. While he will love to watch the man unravel like that one day soon, right now his cock is craving the kind of release that he knows he will only achieve inside Chibs.

Chibs is lost deep in the kiss and the decrease of oxygen, so it takes a second longer than it should for him to realise that Juicy's gotten up and is tugging him to his feet by his scarf. It feels like nothing he's experienced before and while he does have his kinks, this had never been one he'd wish to try – until Juice, that is – now he wonders why the fuck they waited so long to try it.

“Take 'em off, babe.” Chibs just stares at him confusion all over his face. Juice chuckles, “Your pants, get 'em off...” and when he sees Chibs make no move to comply, he barks out just one word, “NOW.”

Chibs springs to action, hastily unfastening his pants and shoving them down, his cock springing up against his belly, finally free from the confines of his jeans. He quickly kicks them to the side and stares at Juice, one eyebrow raised in challenge, a filthy grin spreading across his face as he eyes Juice's pants.

Juice tugs down hard on the scarf, dragging Chibs down to his knees, putting him at eye-level with Juice's straining erection. His breath stutters as he watches Chibs lick his lips in anticipation, just seconds before the Scot leans forward and mouths at Juice's cock through the damp fabric.

Chibs' hands work the belt, button and zip in rapid succession and before Juice has a chance to feel the cool air on his exposed skin, Chibs takes him down to the root. Juice's knees buckle and he grips Chibs' shoulder with his free hand to steady himself as he backs up a step, his cock falling from Chibbie's mouth with a filthy 'pop'.

Chibs is yanked to his feet by the scarf and Juice kisses him roughly, his tongue seeking his own taste in Chibs' mouth. He pulls back from the kiss grinning and Chibs can't help but tease him, “Like tha taste a'yerself on ma tongue, Juicy-boy?”

With eyes locked on Chibs, he grazes his thumb over the slick head of the man's cock and brings it to his lips then watches his lover's eyes widen as he slowly licks it off. “Mmm, I do, but you taste so much better, babe.”

Chibs slams their bodies together and attacks Juice's mouth, consumed with the overwhelming need to have Juice inside him again. “Ye gonna stop playin' round wit me and get to it, Juicy?”

He shoves Chibs backward on the bed. “What if I wanna hear you beg for it?” he taunts, crawling up Chibs naked body, trailing kisses up his path. “Come on, beg me for my cock.”

“That what ye wanna hear Juicy? Hear me say that I want yer big, fat cock in me, want ye ta fuck me? Fine. Fuck. Me. ”

“Oh fuck.” he sucks Chibbie's earlobe into his mouth and nips it. “Say it again.”

Chibs hand searches blindly on the top of the nightstand - the last place he remembers seeing their lube - and once found, presses it into Juice's waiting hand. “I want ye ta fuck me … now, Juicy.”

Juice wastes no more time, quickly slicking his cock, but can't help teasing Chibs by slowly circling a lube-slick finger around the man's twitching hole. “Juicy...” the warning tone of the word is not lost on Juice who quickly positions his aching cock. Chibs cants his hips as Juice breaches and begins a gentle slide in to the hilt. It takes Chibs a moment to adjust – the lad is by no means lacking in size (or girth) – and pain gives way to immense pleasure almost immediately.

Juice is overwhelmed by emotion to see Chibs so open and unashamed to beg. “Love you, babe, so much-”

He cups Juice's face and nods. “Aye, lad, I know. Love you too, Juicy.” He kisses him softly and Juice melts into it, moaning softly. “Now fuck me.”

Juice immediately does as he's told, dragging out the pleasure by withdrawing slowly then ramming back in hard and deep. Chibs arches his back off the bed with that first thrust, his eyes rolling up and his lids shuttering over them. He purposely avoids touching the small bundle of nerves for a few minutes to drive Chibs crazy with want, wanting to see him come undone beneath him.

Chibs is climbing higher with every stroke, the stimulation from feeling every ridge and vein massaging his insides almost electric. He knows that Juicy's controlling the fuck, purposely denying him that extra buzz a direct hit to those nerves will incite. He tries in vain to roll and raise his hips to make him hit it, but the lad's too smart for that and counters every attempt. He's panting for breath, his heart racing already and his cock is like a goddamn leaky faucet – he's loving every fucking second of it – and he tells the lad so. “Bloody hell, Juicy, stop muckin' about an fuck me. I ain't gonna break, ye numpty. Harder!”

If Juice thought he was amped before, Chibbie's command is like a shot of crank and his adrenaline surges, his motions quickened to almost inhuman proportion as he fucks the Scot into the mattress. Watching Chibs writhing in ecstasy beneath him, alternating between clutching Juice's sweat-slick skin and wrenching the sheets in his fist, muttering what Juice can only guess is Gaelic as he nails the man's prostate with every furious thrust just spurs him on.

Chibs feels like his heart just might explode if he doesn't come soon, his cock getting constant stimulation with every move of Juice's hips from where it's pressed between their stomachs. He knows he's beyond coherent at this point, his brain won't work, can't form thoughts in English and he could really give a fuck less. He could die right now happily with Juice's cock embedded deep in his arse – his first true religious experience, he thinks.

Juice keeps up the frantic pace he's set, racing them both to what promises to be an orgasm like none either man has had before if Chibs' writhing and moaning is any indication. Juice bends down to kiss the Scot and his tongue is greedily sucked into the other man's hot mouth. He feels the end of Chibs' scarf tickle his chest and grins against the swollen lips beneath his as his hand once again winds itself in the fabric, limiting the other man's oxygen intake.

Chibs feels the scarf tighten and his vision starts to darken around the edges as Juice drives into him harder than ever. The last moment of awareness is the image of Juicy's face as he moans, “Oh fuck, babe … can't … gonna-” and bright white flashes blind him as he cums hard, shooting rope after thick rope of spunk between their sweaty stomachs as he feels the warmth spread inside him as Juice's hips stutter and still. Then everything goes dark.

Juice collapses onto Chibbie's chest, gasping for air and shaking uncontrollably. It takes a moment to realise that Chibs has gone completely still beneath him. He immediately panics, assuming that he had tightened the scarf too tightly and accidentally strangled the man. Chibs finally takes in a huge breath, opening his eyes and Juice lets out a shaky sigh of relief. Chibs sees the panic briefly before it fades and cups the side of Juice's face with a shaky hand.

“Worried ye'd fucked me ta death?” he snorts.

“That's not funny, asshole. You like, stopped breathing and shit.” he replies shakily.

Chibs kisses him soft and slow, pouring as much reassurance as possible into the kiss and sighing when he feels Juice relax. “Tha's twice today ye fucked me unconscious. Tha gonna b'come a habit, then?”

“God, I hope not. It's some scary shit to witness.” A slow grin spreads across his face. “Does wonders for my ego, though.”

Chibs barks out a hearty laugh. “As it should, love, as it should.”

He slowly slides his softened cock from Chibs body and settles next to his lover with his head resting over Chibs still racing heart. They settle into a comfortable silence for long minutes before Juice finally whispers, “I really am sorry, babe. I should have trusted you, given you a chance to explain like you would have done for me. It's just Fi-”

“Ey, none of that now. Ye had e'ry right ta think it. I know I's a right bastard ta ya in Belfast, it's just seeing my Kerrianne again-”

“You love her. And Fiona's her mom-”

Chibs tilts Juice's face so he can look him in the eye. “And I'll always love 'er for givin me ma daughter, but 'm not in love wit 'er an'amore. She made 'er choice years ago – an it wasn't me. 'Sides someone else snuck in an stole ma heart when I wasn't lookin.”

“Me?”

“Aye, you, ya numpty.” He kisses him softly, “Now if we're done rowin an makin up, how's about we get some sleep, cos somebody wore ma old arse out.”

Silence falls again and Chibs thinks Juice has fallen asleep when he hears a whispered. “Hey Chibbie?”

He groans in response.

“I love your old ass.”

He presses a small kiss to Juice's temple. “Aye, ma old arse loves ye too. Just not twice in one day, eh? Don't think'll be sittin proper fer least a week.”

Juice just grins as he falls asleep, secure in the arms of the man he loves – and who loves him.

~Fin~