WARNINGS: This is total slash, so if you have a problem with it turn back now. AND if you are UNDER 18, naughty, naughty, what the hell are you doing reading this, go watch power-puff girls ;) LOL.
Beta: None. WILL have spelling and grammar mistakes. (Please don't complain as I've just warned you.)
Sex: Yes - Male/Male
Swearing: Absolutely. (This is sons of anarchy)
Title: From another song by The Calling (It just reminds me of Tig whenever I listen to it.)
A/N: A prequel to Sweet Denial. A more detailed telling of how Tig and Kozik met and began their rather usual relationship, you'll recognize a few of the screens from the first story, but they've been extended for this story. I hope you enjoy it. I don't know how long it will be.
The bike pulled to a halt on the outskirts of town, its rider grinning foolishly at the large welcome sigh. He'd made it. He was finally in Charming and soon he'd be a member of the infamous Sons of Anarchy. Benjamin Kozik straightened his spine as he removed his helmet and glanced back over his shoulder. He knew he shouldn't look back, it was back luck his mom would say, but he had to be sure Tacoma was behind him, or more precisely his brother. Thomas had never been the supportive type and he was even less so when it came to his decision to join a biker gang, despite his attempts to reassure his big bro that they weren't a gang but a motorcycle club. Of course he'd known it was a lie, he knew all about the sons. They had a charter in Tacoma but he'd wanted to gain his patch from the parent club in California, and there were other reason he needed out of town, the kind of reasons that usually led guys to join the army to escape them. So having cleared it with Donald, the president of Tacoma SOA, he'd packed a few things and hit the road.
And now here he was on the brink of his dream coming true. He returned his helmet to his blond head; he revved his motor, flipping off the road behind him and speeding of towards his future.
Tig climbed off his bike and sat the helmet on the handle bars before removing his shades. He turned to grin at his best friend in a suggestive way as Clay Morrow, president of Samcro, strolled out of the garage.
"You get it?" he demanded as he moved closer, groaning at the overly pleased look in his friends eyes. "Jesus Tig, you went for payment."
"And I got it." the dark hair sergeant at arms winked. "Double."
Clay rolled his eyes once again and groaned. "You're impossible."
"Funny, that's what they said."
Clay held out his hand for the envelope Tig had gone to collect from the whore house on the edge of town. It was protection for keeping a certain Sheriff off their back, not that they needed it. Unser had no intention of shutting down Miss Daisy's and the payment would be split between them. 60 - 40.
"You should have been there. Those girls couldn't get enough of me, literally."
"One day Tig you're going to catch something horrible and your dicks gonna to fall off." Clay stated with a laugh.
"No way. Strong as an Ox, hung like a horse."
Clay was sure he said shit just to make them all uncomfortable and decided to get his own back. "Or worse yet, you'll find some shy little blond and settle down."
Tig's face paled with horror, his gaze darkening. "Never gonna to happen, been there, hated it. Not goin' back."
Clay stared at his friend, taking in the shadows beneath his eyes. "How's the girls?"
Tig shrugged nonchalantly. "Good I guess." he turned to head for the club house not really paying attention. He paused for a moment as one of the members called his name, he turned. He barely heard the sound of the motorcycle but he heard the yell from Clay. He looked a second before the machine came speeding around the corner of the garage gate, the rider swerved to miss him but sadly not fast enough.
It side swiped him and sent him to the concrete. He heard the scream of tires, smelt burning rubber and felt pain shooting through his shoulder. Sucking it in, he got to his feet, his left hand gripping his right shoulder and stormed towards the stranger with a murderous glare. "What the fucking hell do you think you're doing? Can't you fucking see where you're going or you blind as well as stupid!" he yelled, gripping the guys shoulder and dragging him away from his bike.
"Sorry. Shit, sorry."
Tig didn't even think about his arm, that could be dislocated or worse broken, he lifted it and swung, catching the younger guy in the jaw. Both men yelled in pain, Tig doubling over grabbing his shoulder, a shower of expletives falling from lips. The stranger clinging to his jaw, stepped forward to take his own swing, but they were quickly surrounded and pulled apart, Chibs tugging the sergeant away to examine his arm, putting his British Army training into use, while Clay hovered in front of the stranger.
"Who are you? What the fuck you doing here?" he yelled.
The young man reached into his jean pocket, pulling out an envelope and handing it over. "My names Kozik, Benjamin Kozik." He forced a smile, looking nervous at the dark haired man he'd hit as he vanished into the club house.
"Kozik huh?" Clay murmured, reading the letter. "And you want to prospect with us?"
Kozik turned to meet the older man's gaze. "Yeah." he nodded enthusiastically.
Clay looked him up and down, smirking at the bruise that was already beginning to bloom on his jaw. "Well, you're not exactly making a good first impression."
Kozik sighed. "Sorry, I guess I got a little….I wasn't paying attention and I didn't see him till it was too late."
"Well, I suggest you start, cause you've just made yourself an enemy. - You got somewhere to stay?"
Kozik looked at his boots." No."
Clay rolled his eyes. "Alright, there's a room in the back, you can stay there until you sort yourself out. As for this…" Clay waved the letter. "We'll see. You may have just earned yourself a strike before it was even brought to the table." Clay laughed as the young man groaned. "Names, Clay by the way. The guy you just pissed off, that's Tig, you can meet the rest later." Turning Clay headed back to work, leaving Kozik to take his bag into the club building.
Kozik walked through the door, with his bag over his shoulder and a confidence he didn't quite feel. The large bar was empty but for a few people, a large man with long greying hair sat at the bar with a bottle of beer in his hand, a younger man with the word prospect on his back, stood behind it. At a table in front of a wall of police mug shots, sat the guy he'd ran over, an ice pack being pressed to it by another man with scars on his face. They all turned to look at him and he swallowed hard at the pure hatred in the eyes of the dark haired man. Tig. He recalled.
"Huh, hey." he smiled. "I…was told there was a room."
"Through there." pointed the Scotsman at the table with Tig.
Kozik nodded his thanks and heading off into the back. He strolled down a thin corridor of doors; gazing at the few with name tags on them. He found one that was blank and opened the door cautiously, peering around before he slipped inside. The room was pretty nice. He dropped his bag on the bed and sank down, he was actually here. He was going to be a Son.
"You're kidding me right? The guy almost took my arm off, he obviously can't ride straight." Tig snapped furiously. "And you want him to prospect?"
"Donald said he'd be an asset to the club, and he's a brilliant mechanic."
"Oh so he can fix bikes, he just can't ride them." Tig said sarcastically.
"Donald's backing his play here."
Tig grumbled under his breath. He didn't want the disaster area anywhere near the club. The guy had already made it so he wouldn't be able to ride for at least a week, his shoulder was killing him, now Clay wanted the prick to hang around. He didn't think so.
"Listen just give him a chance, alright." Clay said staring at his friend. "It was an accident."
"An accident." Tig scoffed. "I'll remind you of that when he gets us killed."
Clay rolled his eyes and scratched at his brow.
Tig looked around the table; they all seemed willing to let the guy prospect, even after what had happened that afternoon. All he wanted to do was rip him a new one and shove a grenade up it. Slowly a devious smile spread across his face. If they wanted the guy to prospect, then fine. "Alright."
Clay looked suspiciously. "What?"
Tig shrugged. "I said fine, let him prospect. But when his times up, I won't agree to patch him in." he said confidently.
"Tig." Clay sighed.
The dark haired sergeant slouched back in his chair, rubbing at his shoulder. Clay looked around the table at the others, they all shrugged. Clay took a deep breath, all he could do was hope that a year would change Tig's mind.
"Alright, bring him in."
Chibs got out of his seat and pulled open the large heavy door. "Hey, get in here."
Kozik walked into the room, his arms hanging nervously at his side as he looked at everyone.
"Well, boy. You're in, for now." Clay said from the head of the table.
Chibs handed over his prospect cut. Kozik grinned inwardly.
"You know the rules?" Clay said before continuing to repeat them. "You do whatever you're told to do by a member, prospect period ends minimum one year today…"
"Dues are seventy-five bucks a month, due on the first." Bobby put in.
"And another twenty for the room. - Welcome." The President smiled, nodding at him.
Kozik nodded back. "Thanks."
"Shut up!" Tig snapped. "Don't get us killed. - Now get the hell out."
Kozik, rushed for the door, pulling it closed behind him. Tig groaned and rubbed his shoulder, knowing that guy was going to be trouble.
A/N: So, what do you think? Sorry the chapters are so short. I'll have another one for you as soon as I can.