Guns and Guns and Guns.
Title: Guns and guns and guns.
Author: Bayyvon
ship: Chibs/Juice
Rate: pg for language and guns
A/n: Prompt provided by imagineyourotp.tumblr.com. Said prompt was: Imagine your OTP kissing passionately after Person A saves Person B from almost certain death. (The kiss isn't really all that passionate, but it definitely means something, yo.)
"Oh, shit." All he could see was guns. Guns everywhere. Now, this would usually be a normal thing for two guys in a biker gang, right? Right. But this time was different. These guns were being pointed at Chibs. And that made Juice's heart stop. And then pound like an engine piston. And then stutter. Which, probably wasn't good for his heath, but whatever. That didn't matter now. What mattered is that right now, there were guns. And they were cocked. And they were pointed at an unphased Scot, who held up one in return.
"Move you idiot, what the hell are you doing?!" Juice's mouth shoved out the words before he could contain them. Brown eyes flicked to the right. To him.
"If I move they shoot." Was all he said. He didn't turn his head. He didn't blink. He just looked, and spoke.
"And if you don't move they shoot." Juice was throwing his hands around in wild gestures, his eyes the size of the fucking moon. Think stupid. Think. I am thinking, stupid! Well then think fucking harder and faster, numbskull.
Bullets had begun firing off, whizzing by, and Juice acted on impulse and instinct. Protect what's yours. He threw himself at, and in front of, Chibs. They stumbled a moment, and Juice felt the pain flaring up his back. Fucking bullets. He urged the idiot he loved to run fucking faster for the love of fucking Jesus, Mary and Joseph, because God did bullets in the back hurt. Juice hit the side of the truck they had arrived in, and quickly threw himself in. The engine roared to life beneath him, and they were out of gun range faster than a bat out of hell. The truck came to a stop outside Teller-Morrow, and Juice pressed a hand to the wound in his back as he stepped out, and around to the driver's side door. He grabbed Chibs by his cut, slamming him into the side of the truck.
"Juicy, you're ble-"
"You're a fucking idiot, you fucking know that? A goddamned idiot." Juice grabbed the older man by the name of his neck, roughly slamming his lips with a bruising force into the other's, then shoving him back into the metal of the truck, and walking away.
Chibs was going to be the death of him, he was fucking certain of it.
Author: Bayyvon
ship: Chibs/Juice
Rate: pg for language and guns
A/n: Prompt provided by imagineyourotp.tumblr.com. Said prompt was: Imagine your OTP kissing passionately after Person A saves Person B from almost certain death. (The kiss isn't really all that passionate, but it definitely means something, yo.)
"Oh, shit." All he could see was guns. Guns everywhere. Now, this would usually be a normal thing for two guys in a biker gang, right? Right. But this time was different. These guns were being pointed at Chibs. And that made Juice's heart stop. And then pound like an engine piston. And then stutter. Which, probably wasn't good for his heath, but whatever. That didn't matter now. What mattered is that right now, there were guns. And they were cocked. And they were pointed at an unphased Scot, who held up one in return.
"Move you idiot, what the hell are you doing?!" Juice's mouth shoved out the words before he could contain them. Brown eyes flicked to the right. To him.
"If I move they shoot." Was all he said. He didn't turn his head. He didn't blink. He just looked, and spoke.
"And if you don't move they shoot." Juice was throwing his hands around in wild gestures, his eyes the size of the fucking moon. Think stupid. Think. I am thinking, stupid! Well then think fucking harder and faster, numbskull.
Bullets had begun firing off, whizzing by, and Juice acted on impulse and instinct. Protect what's yours. He threw himself at, and in front of, Chibs. They stumbled a moment, and Juice felt the pain flaring up his back. Fucking bullets. He urged the idiot he loved to run fucking faster for the love of fucking Jesus, Mary and Joseph, because God did bullets in the back hurt. Juice hit the side of the truck they had arrived in, and quickly threw himself in. The engine roared to life beneath him, and they were out of gun range faster than a bat out of hell. The truck came to a stop outside Teller-Morrow, and Juice pressed a hand to the wound in his back as he stepped out, and around to the driver's side door. He grabbed Chibs by his cut, slamming him into the side of the truck.
"Juicy, you're ble-"
"You're a fucking idiot, you fucking know that? A goddamned idiot." Juice grabbed the older man by the name of his neck, roughly slamming his lips with a bruising force into the other's, then shoving him back into the metal of the truck, and walking away.
Chibs was going to be the death of him, he was fucking certain of it.