TITLE: The Sad Tangible
PAIRING: Jax Teller/Percival
WORD COUNT: 738
SUMMARY: Crossover w/Sons of Anarchy. Percival finds a new home in Charming, California.
NOTES: Written for challenge 5 at summerpornathon, where we needed to write a crossover or fusion. The title is a play on a phrase from TS Eliot's To Walter de la Mare, where he refers to ghosts as the sad intangible.
DISCLAIMER: The characters depicted herein belong to Shine and BBC. I make no profit from this endeavor.
He never intended to stop in a hole like Charming, California. But when Percival saw the pair of men beating the shit out of someone at the side of the road, he slowed his bike to get a better look. It was always smart to assess before stopping and evening up the victim’s odds.
The second he saw the flash of blond hair beneath their fists, his brain stopped and instinct took over.
Neither man had a chance to pull a weapon before he broke one’s jaw and shot the other in the kneecap.
Piercing eyes lifted to Percival’s when he offered the man on the ground a hand up. His heart stopped. Arthur. Except it wasn’t, of course, because Arthur was miles away, ensconced in his safe little home, living his life of secrets where the only man he allowed inside was Merlin. But this one, Jax, he said his name was, could’ve been a brother, same coloring, still had to tilt his strong jaw up to look at Percival. The only difference was the ghosts in his eyes.
Jax Teller knew loss. Percival didn’t hesitate giving him a ride into town. Or staying when Jax offered him a place to crash for the night.
One night became a month. Two. There was always somewhere to follow Jax, be there to back him up. The Sons appreciated men who knew how to get the job done without asking questions. They understood damnable loyalty. Some of them even died for it.
Percival made sure that was never Jax. No matter what it took.
“You stubborn son of a bitch.” Jax’s callused hands pressed the tape over the bandage on Percival’s shoulder blade, warm, reassuring. Grateful Jax couldn’t see his face, Percival gritted his teeth against the heat flooding through him. He was usually better at holding off his reactions to Jax’s presence, but the cloying scent of blood combined with the lingering touches of Jax’s fingers messed with his head. “I told you to get outta there.”
“They would’ve come back.”
“And we would’ve taken care of ‘em.”
“Now you don’t have to.”
“Idiot,” Jax muttered, but it wasn’t mean, never that, in spite of the face the other gangs saw, Jax didn’t have it in him. His hands dropped, their absence granting precious seconds for Percival to pull himself together.
But then coarse hairs tickled along his nape, soft lips drawing goosebumps to the surface of his skin. Percival shattered.
They clawed at each other’s clothes, ripping open button-flies, scratching at scars. Jax’s beard burned where it scraped across Percival’s arms, hungry mouth mapping the contour of muscles, teeth biting at sinew straining to fold Jax into him. The smell of leather clinging to Jax burst on Percival’s tongue when he got his turn, and his eyes burned from the sudden rush of emotion it evoked.
Jax tasted like home.
When he straddled Percival’s lap, he stroked their dripping cocks in tandem while Percival pushed two fingers past Jax’s lips. He only meant to wet them, but the tight pressure of Jax’s sucking went straight to his balls, and he groaned as he shallowly fucked Jax’s mouth. Jax was the one who swallowed him down to the knuckles, eyes blazing at the promise of what he’d do once he got his lips wrapped around Percival’s cock.
Now, though, they wanted—needed—something else, and Percival pulled free, reaching behind to bury his fingers inside Jax’s waiting hole.
Jax slammed their mouths together as he rode Percival’s hand, still devouring him when he rose up, angled Percival’s cock, sank down again with his ass stretching around Percival’s girth instead. It was tight, too tight maybe, tight enough to alarm Percival that he might be hurting him, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow, didn’t do anything but shudder and moan into their kisses as he took Percival all the way in.
None of their losses mattered while their bodies merged. He could give himself over to the moment, take what he’d wanted for months, forget about everything he’d craved for years before.
Jax fell apart first, warm come splattering onto Percival’s stomach and chest as he writhed against him.
Percival followed, like he always did, like he always would.
Only one name burned on his lips. Only his burned on Jax’s.
They both had ghosts, but now, maybe for the first time ever, the ghosts didn’t have them.