Devilc's Den 2.0

Title: Not Because You Should, But Because You Must
Fandoms: Sons of Anarchy/Supernatural/Friday Night Lights
Rating: Adult
Characters: Jax Teller, Dean Winchester, Tim Riggins
Pairings: Tim/OFC, Jax/Tim/Dean
Spoilers: Assumes you're current on SOA S2.

Author's Notes: For ixchel55, because it's all her fault for suggesting "the Manwich Supreme".

There are several blink and you'll miss it in jokes for other stories I've written peppered through out, but they are not necessarily indicative of continuity with those stories.

I'm setting this about 3-4 years from where we are right now, so consider my takes on some of these characters to be slightly AU. In the giant backstory in my head, one of them in particular had his life turned inside out and upside down ... and that's hinted at.

Title and cut tags are from Them Crooked Vultures.

Thanks to tartysuz for her swift beta.

Legalese: Sons of Anarchy, Supernatural, and Friday Night Lights are copyright their respective owners. This is written as because I felt like making a gift for a friend, not for remuneration.



"Jax," Lyla all but gasped with relief when he picked up the phone. "I need a favor. I just got a call from one of our guys, and his truck's broken down on the side of the 18 and it's got to get towed so he can get here. We're doing Midnight's 50-stud gang-bang and she specifically wanted him for the finish. We're on guy 25. I'm going to extend it as long as I can, but, there's only so long we can go. Hurry!"

"Opie's got the truck, Lyla. He and Sack are doing a repo."

"Fuck!" Lyla snapped. Then she took a deep breath and continued in pleading voice, "Can you please just pick him up and get him here? He's right next to mile marker five. It's an emergency. Please."

A porn emergency. Riiiiiight. "Will do." Jax sighed and hung up the phone.

----

The truck and the guy weren't at all what Jax expected. Most starlets and studs spent their money just as fast as they made it. Sports cars and fancy clothes were the order of the day. (Drugs, too.)

The truck was an ancient Chevy Silverado that had seen better days. The smell of burnt oil and large dark puddle underneath it didn't bode well. Jax looped the bike around and pulled up behind.

The guy leaning up against the tailgate talking on a phone had on a plaid flannel shirt, faded jeans, and a well-worn set of cowboy boots. His light brown hair was almost as long as Jax's, and he certainly had a pretty face with his lean jawline and those cheekbones. But it was the eyes intently studying him over the edge of a pair of sunglasses that captured (and held) Jax's attention as he parked his bike and walked over. Bright hazel cat's eyes. Clear, not glassy or fuzzy with drugs, the welcoming expression in them unmarred by a holier studlier than thou arrogance.

"Finish your shift, Dee," he said to the person on the other and of the call. "I think my ride just got here. See you tonight." His voice had just the hint of a southern accent.

"Sorry the tow truck can't make it." Jax held out his hand. "I'm Jax. Lyla sent me."

The guy started to extend his own hand, then paused. "Am I supposed to give you the real name or the porn name?"

Jax laughed. "I'll go with real."

The guy smiled. "Tim. Tim Riggins." He had a good, firm grip, and calluses that hinted at doing actual work.

Jax swung his leg over the bike and held out his spare helmet. "You been on one of these before?"

"Nope."

"Okay. Swing over. Put your hands on my hips." Tim did so, not too loose and not too tight. It was always a bit iffy when you got a noob on a bike. Some barely touched you, while others clenched down in a death grip. "Feet on the pegs. When I turn left, I want you looking over my left shoulder, you don't need to lean. When I turn right, I want you looking over my right shoulder. Other than that, just look straight ahead."

"Piece of cake."

~oo(0)oo~

"So, what's the porn name?" Jax asked, pulling up at the entrance to Caracara.

"Lance Pantera," Tim said as he pulled off the helmet and handed it back.

Something about the way he smirked when he said it made Jax wonder if there was some sort of private joke behind the name. "Oh. So, you're the guy."

"What guy?" Tim paused at the door and raked his fingers through his hair.

"The one all the girls are twittering about." Jax laughed.

Tim shook his head and chortled. "Man, they talk about you too," he said as he stepped in.

Jax sat on his bike for a moment and then decided Oh, what the hell. It had been a few months since he'd last stuck his head in the door at Caracara. (A) He'd been busy with the shop and Abel, (B) Lyla and Opie had it under control, and (C) Tara was plenty of woman for any man. Still, it never hurt for the President of the club to stick a nose in and make sure things were running like they should.

Lyla waved him over when she saw him. "Is he here?" she whispered in his ear, scarcely daring to take her eyes off the camera and monitors. Jax nodded. She grinned ear to ear.

Jax liked porn as much as the next guy, but somehow, seeing it get made took away some of the magic. It became even more scripted. Right now, there were two guys in line getting "fluffed" for their turn with Midnight, a pretty dark-skinned girl currently being fucked on a large bed covered in cream-colored satin. Her moans and pouts and little ohs! came right on cue and she had three cameras currently trained on her -- one capturing closeups of her face, another doing full body shots, and the third got closeups of penis in vagina. The angles at which Midnight and the guy came together, the speed at which the guys humped her, the sounds they made, the words they said ... almost none of it was left to chance.

Then again, considering the cost of running Caracara? Multiple takes and missed cues were money that came out of SAMCRO's pocket. Damn right, the action was scripted.

Jax wandered into the office, opened the fridge reserved for SAMCRO members and helped himself to a beer. He had no real reason to stick around, except that ... he wanted to see what "Lance Pantera" had that the rest of the studs in the stable didn't. Because, really, few of the male actors in porn were liked by the starlets. Most were merely tolerated. And after seeing several of them in and out of action, Jax completely understood why. They did porn because they liked sex, or rather, because they thought they were God's gift to sex, or they were sex addicts, or because they weren't good for any other thing except fucking.

A lot of them hated playing second fiddle to the girls, too.

He strolled back out to find that Lyla had called a short break between #49 and the grand finale. Tim, clad in a robe, was talking to Lyla. Jax flopped down in the chair next to Lyla's and waited for the show to start.

"... and then I think I'll roll her on her left side and get her from that angle. It's a bed and all, but I'm thinking her backside's a little tender by now. When I roll over on my back and take her with me, get ready for the money shot. Sound good?"

Jax raised an eyebrow at that ... script or no script, there was a bit of give and take in filming depending on things, but the guys she directed usually didn't tell Lyla what they planned to do. She usually told them what she had in mind and they worked out the details from there.

Lyla smiled at Tim. "Sounds good." Pause. "It looks like Jax is going to watch. Is there a problem with that?"

Jax paused with the beer bottle half way to his lips and shot Lyla a WTF?! look, because, hello? Club President and her fucking boss.

Tim grinned roguishly at Jax. His quick trip through hair and makeup had only served to enhance what was already there, meaning goddamn was he one good looking guy. "He's the boss. I'd be pretty fucking stupid to tell him no." A calculating gleam entered Tim's eye. "This has something to do with that bet you and Juice got going, right? I'm telling you, if a week of Opie glaring at me from the sidelines didn't give me a hard-off, do you think a friendly face will do it?" They both laughed and Lyla clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm going to tell Midnight the plan --" he glanced at where the crew was performing a quick touch up to her hair and makeup "-- and as soon as the robe comes off, I'm ready for action."

~oo(0)oo~

As soon as the robe came off, Jax got a very clear view of what "Lance Pantera" had that he didn't.

"Damn," he whispered, shaking his head slightly.

"They certainly grow 'em big in Texas." Lyla smirked down at him, then winked and continued in a soft voice, "It's not just the size of your pencil, hon. It's also the way you sign your name." Taking a deep breath she cried, "Action!" And a hush fell over the rest of the set.

Tim crawled on all fours across the bed towards Midnight, who wore what seemed like a genuine smile at the sight. Kneeling between her open legs, he gently reached out and stroked her with a feather light touch. "You're all red hot for me, baby," he murmured softly. And, though it was the kind of line Jax had heard a million times in porn, it wasn't stilted the way Tim delivered it. "All wet and tender. A little too much, a little too hard, and it's just not going to feel good at all, is it, sugar?"

"I asked for you for a reason, honey. You've never let a girl down."

Tim's mouth quirked in a strange half-smile. "Out of bed? Hell yes. In bed?" His expression turned from bittersweet to downright smoldering. "Never."

Midnight laughed at that, but it turned to an "Oh!" and then an "Oh, baby!" as he went down on her.

On one level, yes, it was totally staged in that both of them angled their bodies in such a way that the cameras got the best possible shots of what he was doing to Midnight with his mouth and fingers.

On another level, it was clear that Tim was totally into what he was doing to Midnight and that he was damn good at it. Midnight's "Oh, yeahs" and "Oh, babys" didn't have quite the same rote, rehearsed quality that her previous cries did.

At one point, Tim looked up, locked eyes with Midnight, made a huge show of licking his sticky chops and said, "Red blooded, All-American woman. Best taste on the planet."

And at that point, Jax got it. (A) This guy really was God's gift to sex and (B) he liked women. Really liked women.

A few years back, a starlet named Jillian had had a bit of a crush on Jax. Only, unlike the others who made a serious play, Jillian never went beyond being the friendly flirt with him. So, one night, he asked her why she still flirted with him, what did she get out of it? "What I like about you Jax," she replied, "is even though I know you're taken, you've got this way of making me feel like I'm the only girl in the room when you talk to me."

Tim had that same touch. Right now Midnight was in bed, in a room full of people, about to get fucked by a co-worker whose job it was to fuck her, and they were both going to have to play for the cameras, and somehow, Jax knew that right now Tim made Midnight feel like she was the only girl in the room.

When Tim rolled her on her side, facing the camera, murmuring, "Let's see if it's more comfortable for you this way." As he trailed a line of licks and kisses along the curve of her hip and waist, he used the cover to open the condom and slide it on. Neat, because it completely bypassed the usual awkwardness associated with stopping to put on a condom.

As he positioned himself and gently and slowly parted her lips -- both for Midnight's comfort, and for the camera -- he said, "Let me know how it feels, sugar," as he oh-so-slowly pushed in. It wasn't until he heard Midnight's "Feels good, baby," that Jax let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Tim rocked into her slow, and deep, giving her time to adjust, obviously caring that it be good (or at least not uncomfortable) for Midnight, and when he said things about how hot she was around him and what a turn on that was, and it was so much fun being with with her right now because she'd been "fucked all sensitive", and how soft her skin was and how good she smelled ... the words themselves came straight out of any one of a thousand and one porn movies, but the way Tim said them did not. Only girl in the room? Nah, more like Queen of All of the World right now. The guy had actually figured out how to bring just a touch of romance into porn.

As he sped up his thrusts, Tim licked his thumb and forefinger before using them to gently tease one of Midnight's nipples as he nuzzled into her neck. "Oh, sugar, I'm close, real close right now," he rasped.

"Oh, baby, I'm coming right now!" She let loose with several, loud, breathy cries and shivered slightly.

In a flash, Tim pulled out, rolled on to his back, taking her with, reached down and between, rolled the condom off, and together he and Midnight stroked a few times until he came in a series of hard spurts across her belly.

Right. Thank God. Cut. Because Jax was so fucking hard it wasn't funny any more.

Only Lyla didn't yell cut. The camera was still rolling when Midnight reached for the sheet to wipe her self off and Tim stayed her hand as he wriggled out from beneath her, made a big show of "mwah!" kissing her pussy twice, and then enthusiastically licked her belly clean before crawling up her body to finish with a loud smack on her lips.

"Silly!" Midnight threw her head back and laughed, pushing him away with a palm to the forehead.

He fell back on his haunches, made another show of licking his lips, and purred, "You wouldn't have me any other way, sugar."

"Cut!" Lyla yelled.

At that moment Jax knew three things:

1) Lance Pantera was going to be a big star.
2) Midnight's gang-bang was going to sell a lot of copies and make a lot of money.
3) As soon as he could stand, he was totally doing the walk of shame to the men's room and taking care of business.

Oh, and as soon as he was capable of driving, he was going straight to Tara's office, pulling her into the first room with a door that locked, and fucking her silly.

~oo(0)oo~

Jax came back into Lyla's office to find Tim, clad in a robe, sitting across the desk from her.

"Change in plan for Wednesday's shoot, Tim. We need you to play a succubus too," Lyla said.

"Incubus," he replied. "If it's a guy, it's an incubus, not a succubus."

"Whatever," Lyla said, jotting a note in her planner.

Tim chewed on his bottom lip for a bit. "Uhh ... I got to ask Dee about this."

"What? Why?"

Tim ran a hand through his hair, paused for a moment, then said, "Because Dee's got some real issues about anything connected to demons and if I just go ahead and do this without asking, there's going to be trouble in paradise." Tim pulled his phone out of the robe's pocket, and said, "Give me a second to text, here." His fingers flashed on the keys. "I take it that other than this, I'm done for the day?"

"Yep."

"Cool. I'll call you as soon as I know." Looking at Jax, Tim asked, "Hey man, can I ask you for a ride home?"

Jax blinked a bit at the request, but before he could say anything, Lyla spoke up: "If we ask one of the girls to do it, it will just cause problems. They all want a piece of him, and I can't have anybody think I'm playing favorites."

"I don't bring work home with me. It's part of the deal Dee and I made when I started this," Tim added quietly. "I mean, I can catch a cab if you can't."

"Naw, man, I get it. Tara ain't real happy about me coming out to Caracara, either."

Tim smiled. "Thanks. Give me 10 minutes to get dressed."

~oo(0)oo~

Tim didn't shower before getting dressed and climbing on the back of the bike.

Jax got hard all over again, because holy mother of fuck, Tim smelled like sex.

"We'll have your truck at the shop," Jax said as he pulled up in front of a nondescript bungalow not far from the mill. "We'll call you as soon as we know what's wrong."

"Sounds good. Thanks again."

~oo(0)oo~

The next morning Tim pulled up at the shop in a cream colored Buick Regal.

"That's about the last kind of car I ever expected to see you drive, man." Jax, said, wiping his hands with a rag as he shook his head in mock sorrow.

A bemused gleam entered Tim's eyes. Flipping Jax the keys he said, "Take a look under the hood."

"A Regal GSX Stage 3, no shit!" Juice crowed and fist pumped as soon as they all caught sight of the supercharged beast under the hood.

"And I see somebody added paddle shifters to the steering wheel," Jax noted.

Tim shrugged, hands in his pocket. "It's going to be a gift for Sam, Dee's brother. He's off at college and his birthday's coming up. Been getting around on a bicycle." Tim shuddered slightly. "Dee and I couldn't let that stand."

"But why'd you take the badging off the car?" Sack asked.

"Stealth. Without all the badging, Sam's got a wolf in sheep's clothing."

Jax laughed at that. "Sneaky. I like it." Drawing in a deep breath he shuffled his feet against the floor and said, "So, about your truck ... do you want the bad news or the bad news?"

Tim made a show thinking hard for a moment before he quipped brightly, "I'll take the bad news."

"Blown head gasket, cracked engine block, and two of your connecting rod bearings are going to go soon."

Tim sighed, raked his fingers through his hair as he studied the ground for several seconds and said, "You'd better take me over."

"I hate to say it, but your engine is shot, man," Jax murmured softly.

Tim snorted mirthlessly. "Let me be the judge of that."

~oo(0)oo~

When he saw the crack in the block, Tim leaned against the engine compartment, buried his head in his arms, and rocked back and forth a few times. His eyes were glassy when he looked up. "That's one fucking evil crack. Placement means that metal stitching would be a bitch, too. Fuck." He clenched a double handful of hair as he spun and looked up at the ceiling. Finally he said, "Okay, hook me up with a new engine."

"We'd only be able to get a rebuilt engine for a truck this old ... if we can find one," Opie rumbled.

"I get that."

"Tim," Jax laid a hand on his arm, "are you sure? I mean, this truck's awful old, and --"

"My brother Billy bought me this truck," Tim hissed. "He's dead now. Died in the fire that killed him, my sister in law, and their newborn baby. Burned down the house I grew up in, too."

"Oh shit, man, I'm sorry," Jax murmured. "I'm so sorry."

"We'll get your truck up and running," Opie said reassuringly. "We'll find a way."

Tim nodded, lips pressed into a thin, tight line. "Give me a minute to get my personals and I'll get out of your hair."

~oo(0)oo~

"Hey, you dropped something," Jax said as he saw a photo flutter out of the stack of stuff Tim carried towards the Buick. He picked up a picture of a pretty girl with big brown eyes and blue and gold ribbons in her long brunette hair.

"Lyla." There was an ocean of regret in the way Tim murmured her name.

"The one that got away?"

A bittersweet smile flashed across Tim's face. "But only after broke each other's hearts."

"Sorry if this seems weird, but to totally change the subject, how do you know about metal stitching?"

Tim smiled bitterly. "I didn't start out in porn, Jax. I used to be a mechanic just like you."

Jax felt his mouth open and shut a few times before he finally got a grip on himself.

"Yeah, really. Billy and me, we had a shop. Riggins Rigs." He shook his head sadly. "But that was a lifetime ago." The look in Tim's eyes suddenly shifted, becoming cool and almost flinty. "Okay, so I'll be going now. Call me when you get news about the engine."

----

Part Two