Jesus Alvarado

“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to fucking call me that! Right, nothing is supposed to change now that you have someone else. I’m just supposed to watch you get to be happy and what, hope that you have some time for me afterwards? I’m done being forgotten and second best! I’m tired of being the backup or just slightly not good enough to be someone’s first choice! You didn’t give a shit about me. You didn’t want anything with me. You just wanted to sleep with me until someone you actually liked finally came along and you made them someone important to you! You let them actually have something solid and structured while I got…sex.”

Tears finally started traveling down his cheeks as he took another step back. “Fuck you. Just…fuck you for making me believe that I could actually have something decent, that someone could actually want me. If you had just wanted to fuck me, you could have done it without pretending like you gave a shit about me. Just…go find your fucking boyfriend, Jesus. I don’t need you anymore. I don’t want you.” Chad swallowed hard as he took yet another step back, ready to turn away and do…anything other than stand there.

Chad was right. He was so horribly wrong about some things, but when he pointed out the full picture all Jesus could think was that he was right. Jesus still cared about Chad, but Ty was his boyfriend. And Chad was... what? Stuck somewhere between friend and whatever a person became when you couldn’t fuck them anymore, but still wanted them around, and still wanted to do things that friends definitely didn’t do with each other. 

But none of it was Chad’s fault, and Jesus knew distantly that he should probably just shut his mouth and walk away but he couldn’t, so he said something really stupid instead. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice going low and sad and soothing in the space between heartbeats. “Chad, I get that I’ve fucked up somewhere in here, but you’re not a second choice and I do care about you.”

And then Chad was crying, and Jesus was 100% sure that he was gonna go to hell for making someone as pretty and pathetic as Chad cry. He was gonna burn and he wasn’t even going to have time to explain to Ty why. 

“Look it- it’s complicated,” he said, voice rough, taking a step forward even though Cha took one step back. “It’s not like you were nothing to me, and then someone came along and I just fucking decided to go steady. My- my boyfriend and I got a long history, and I never thought we’d work out. I swear to God I never set out to screw you over. I get that you’re mad, and you got a right to be mad, to be hurt, but I can’t let you storm away and tell yourself that I never cared. I fucking care, alright? If anything I care too fucking much, a dangerous amount for a guy who’s already got someone-”

He snapped his mouth shut, but in the back of his mind he knew the damage was done. His emotions had run off the rails and if Chad decided to hate him forever for that little bit of honesty, then Jesus knew he deserved it. Fuck. He was going to have to talk to Ty about this tonight. It wasn’t fair to Ty, but he deserved to know that his boyfriend had made a mistake this big, and to understand that maybe he didn’t have quite as clean a slate as Jesus had made it sound like. 

“Shit,” he sighed, running another hand through his hair. He took a measured step back, and looked at Chad, and knew that he looked as confused as he felt. 

“I understand if you never want to see me again.”

“I didn’t fucking use you for it! Okay, fine, maybe the first time we hooked up because I wanted to get over the feeling of being turned down, but after that I kept coming back because I liked you. I liked you and you were supposed to like me too, but apparently I was just a good ass for you to fuck, huh? And I’m not dealing with anything. I’m not trying to ignore something or run from something. I’m just trying to live my goddamn life and be happy like everyone else in this godforsaken town gets to be, but apparently that’s not possible for me because the moment I try, it gets ripped out from under me. So, excuse me if I’m a little bitter over the fact that the one good thing I had going for me in a long fucking while is just gone without a word.”

He could feel hot tears stinging in the corners of his eyes, but Chad didn’t care. Just as he didn’t care the blood that had slowed, but was still coming from his nose and traveling over his lips. It was a familiar metallic taste, one he wasn’t fond of in the slightest. “Don’t. Don’t fucking lie to me anymore. I don’t need your fucking pity or whatever in the hell this was. I don’t need you to pretend like you give a shit about me when clearly you were able to just hop into something without a goddamn word to me! But, I guess people don’t really consult with their fuck-toys because they find something worthwhile, huh?”

It hurt to pull away as it forced him to allow the bruises on his body to be touched, yet still Chad did so. “Just…don’t. I let you in. Like a fucking dumbass, I let you in and you never had any intentions of…of anything with me. I was just something to occupy your time with until you finally got who you wanted.”

Jesus blinked, caught off guard for a moment, and then shook his head. “I wasn’t- I meant the fight, not. Not all of it. I knew what I was signing up for that first night.” Or he thought he had. “But it’s pretty obvious that you’re here because you wanted to get hurt, and that’s not the kind of shit someone just trying to ‘be happy’ does, angel.”

Addressing the other bit of Chad’s speech was gonna take him a half second of brainpower, because Chad was wrong. Jesus hadn’t left without a word. He’d tried staying in touch. Chad was the one who dodged his calls, not the other way around. But it didn’t seem like pointing that out was the best idea, especially not when Chad looked about on the verge of frustrated tears. Mary have mercy, Jesus wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it if Chad started crying. 

It was Chad calling himself a “Fuck-toy” that kicked Jesus back into action. He couldn’t- he couldn’t just stand here and listen to bullshit this powerful. He wouldn’t. 

“Hey,” he said, voice low and firm. He took a step closer, still holding onto Chad, heart beating a million miles a minute as his emotions ran wild. He was- on the outside he was sure he looked as composed as he always did, maybe a little more intense than usual, but in his mind it was a maelstrom that he couldn’t sort through. “I’m not the one who ghosted. I told you that my boyfriend wouldn’t have to change that much about us- I like you, and whatever the fuck is going on in your head right now is worrying me, ‘specially if you’re delusional enough to tell yourself I just thought of you as a piece of ass. I- mierda, Chad, madre de dios, it wasn’t like I planned to get a boyfriend while we were sleeping together. It just happened. Shit happens. That doesn’t erase everything we did together, or at least I didn’t think it did, till you stopped returning my calls.”

When Chad pulled away, it was only bald shock at what he’d said that kept Jesus from reaching out again, as a whole lot of pieces finally clicked into place in his head. 

Oh. Oh shit. There weren’t enough curses in English or Spanish that could adequately express the level of “I fucked up” that Jesus was feeling right now. He was- he was the stupidest goddamn fucker on the planet earth, he must be, not to have seen this.

The thing was. The thing was. Chad was ridiculously easy to like. That impulse Jesus felt whenever he looked at the other, that oscillated between wanting to pin him to the wall and make him moan, and wanting to wrap him in a blanket and spoil him to death? That impulse was strong as a motherfucker, and Jesus still hadn’t realized until he’d slept with Chad a few times that it would be so, so easy to let the other into his heart in a dangerous way. It would take so little effort to let himself want Chad in a permanent sort of way, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t because he was in love with Ty, like, endgame kind of love, and because he’d thought that Chad was- that Chad didn’t. He’d thought it was just a bit of distraction for the other man. Sure they’d become closer than that along the way, but discussions about feelings, about permanency, had never even occurred to Jesus because, well, he didn’t think they were on the table for someone as complicated as Chad was, someone as devoted to his privacy and his freedom as Chad was. 

Clearly he had. Misjudged that. A lot. 

Tyler’s smile grew lazy and fond as he tilted his head this way and that to give his boyfriend better access to whatever part of Tyler he wanted. His boyfriend, Jesus. Sometimes it still felt like such a damn miracle, religion pun intended, that he had to pinch himself. There hadn’t been anything like this in his life for so long than he’d almost forgotten it was something he could have. 

He rested one hand on Jesus’s hip while the other stayed on the counter to balance himself. If he put both hands on J he’d lose focus and the nachos would definitely burn. Then he’d have to start all over and also the damn fire alarm would go off. Not the best way to befriend the neighbors. 

“Watching you kick the shit outta others is hotter.” He admitted. “I dunno, there’s just something about the way you move. If those fights ever got recorded it woulda given me away in an instant. I’ve had dreams and they still don’t compare to the real thing.”

Jesus’ grin was so wide his cheeks hurt. He could have stayed here forever, wrapped up in Tyler, in the everything of him. When Ty spoke like this, about wanting Jesus so casually for so long, he was torn between the desire to kick himself and just kiss the words off Ty’s lips. Yeah, they were idiots and they could have had this way sooner. But also, they got there eventually, and that was what mattered. 

“You’re making me curious, babe,” Jesus purred, ducking down to nose his way beneath Ty’s chin and nip softly at the skin below his ear, before he pressed a kiss there. “Am I gonna have to check our security cameras, now? I bet you look pretty when you’re pining after me up there.”

He pressed another swift kiss to Ty’s lips before he reluctantly backed up. He’d showered at the Cage before coming home, but he was still in his workout clothes and he honestly wanted to get into something more comfortable. 

It wasn’t Jesus’s fault that he felt this way, not really. Chad had been holding this pain in for far longer than he had known the man. It had been a long time coming, really, but accepting that wasn’t likely, not when it was easier to blame everything on this one interaction. Admitting that it wasn’t just because of the fact that Jesus had seemed to move on easily enough meant that Chad would have to admit everything else in his life that had gotten to him, and that wasn’t happening. Instead, he wanted to focus everything on this moment, right then. He wanted to let every ounce of rage and pain take over his body.

He was fast, that much was obvious, but at the end of the day, Chad had to admit that he was unskilled. Rough around the edges may have worked for a few fights in the streets now and again, but it wasn’t like that in the ring. Though he could tell that Jesus was controlling himself, only hitting Chad where he needed to in order to disable him, the punches were still landing while most of Chad’s just…weren’t. Some were too far of a swing, too short to actually meet the mark, not enough to even phase his opponent.

When the final bell rang, he was exhausted. Blood dripped down his nose and he could feel the familiar warmth of the liquid on the corner of his mouth, but it was far less than he had been expecting. Jesus hadn’t completely obliterated him, not as he was sure the other man could and somehow, that pissed him off even more. “Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me that you can’t do any of this all the way? You make me fucking feel shit for you then you…you fucking find a goddamn boyfriend. Now you can’t even give me a proper fight. Just…fuck you.”

Whether he liked it or not, it was over. Chad wiped away the blood from his mouth and hopped out of the ring. He’d drown his feelings later, just as he should have always done. Whatever he could get his hands on, someone had to have something good around this joint, right?

Jesus had been fighting in controlled and raw environments since he was a teenager, both intentionally and not. That’s what happened when you fell in with “the wrong crowd,” and when you realized that there was a decent amount of money in selling yourself, in certain ways. Chad wasn’t the worst fight he’d ever had, but it came pretty fucking close, mostly because Jesus was trying to balance making sure it was entertaining and not actually severely hurting Chad. Still, they’d both be bruised, and by the time he pinned the younger man to the mat he was breathing heavily with the simple exertion of having held himself back for so long. 

Watching the blood trickle from Chad’s nose was bad enough, but when the man started talking to him Jesus felt, ridiculously, like he’d been slapped. Below the ring money was changing hands, a few people were still clapping for Jesus, but his attention was honed in entirely on the short man in front of him. 

“Hey!” It took Jesus a moment to make himself move, but the thought of just having Chad walk away after all that had him vaulting himself easily over the ring to hurry after him, reaching out to grab his upper arm with no compunction for the bruising over naked, sweat-slicked skin. This wasn’t how he’d next wanted to feel Chad’s body under him, that was for damn sure. 

“Hey, fuck me, I get it,” he said, tugging Chad to face him. They were getting some curious stares but Jesus wasn’t sure that Chad would agree to go anywhere else with him, right now, and he want to risk the other man bolting on him. He knew he should greet Ty- oh god, Ty was here, Ty always watched his fights, what would he make of that? What would he make of this? Jesus hadn’t exactly told him the whole story with Chad yet...

“I’m not gonna apologize for pulling my punches, though,” he continued, hand still on Chad’s upper arm, expression emphatic and raw in a way he normally didn’t let it be. “Can you blame me for not wanting to give you goddamn brain damage? I know you’re dealing with some shit, but trying to use me to ignore it, or deal with it, or whatever? That’s not fucking cool.” 

His mother would have rapped his knuckles with a wooden spoon for how many curses fell from his lips, right now. 

“I do care about you,” he finished, the words feeling entirely inadequate for the impulses racing around his ribs. To pull Chad close, to smother him with affection, to protect him. It was so strong he felt choked by it, but he couldn’t make himself move. Ty was somewhere in the crowd. 

“Yeah, kind of got that. I accept the consequences.” He was there to let it all out. All the rage, all the hurt, it was going to leave him that evening because Chad didn’t know what else he could do if it stayed around. “I know what I’m getting myself into. I’ve already talked to someone about this place. Javier already explained this shit to me and I’m ready for it.” He didn’t know that for sure. There would be no way of really knowing that until they were both at it and the fight was going, but whatever. Chad would either have it in him or he wouldn’t. Either way, he was there to at least do something.

“You’re the one who is supposed to fight me, right? Then honor what you’re here to do and fight me. Shit, can’t be worse than anything else.” It wasn’t fair to pin all of his pain on Jesus, especially when it wasn’t the man’s fault. He wasn’t angry at just Jesus, but the man was such an easy target to apply all his pain towards. Years of pain, anger, and desperation was now piled onto the other man and though Chad knew it wasn’t right, he couldn’t help it. Feelings were shitty that way.

“I know what I’m doing. I came here to fight. If you don’t want to fight me, then fine. I’ll find someone else to do it, but I’m tired of just standing on the sidelines and waiting. I want to do something. I want to be active and stop feeling on edge every fucking second of every day.”

Jesus let out a short breath through his nostril’s. He wanted to push, chastise Chad for obviously not giving a shit about his own health, but he really shouldn’t have been surprised. His brief- if deep- acquaintance with the man meant that he knew all about Chad’s struggles to care for himself. 

Javier. Jesus wished he could be mad, but he couldn’t. God, he was wishing a lot of things right now, but distantly he did understand how this situation came to be. Javi would have seen someone like Chad and seen an opportunity to get new blood in the ring; it was a good call, it made sense. The only thing Jesus objected to was the fact that he had a personal relationship with Chad and happened to know that a fight club probably wasn’t the best way for him to be dealing with his problems. 

Except his problems weren’t Jesus’ concern. He’d made that clear time and again, especially when they last spoke. 

“’Anything else’?” Jesus echoed, brows raising briefly before they furrowed in concern at Chad’s words. He was about to flat-out tell the other man that getting the shit kicked out of you wasn’t a substitute for therapy, when Chad spoke again, and the words seemed to pour out almost in spite of himself. As if a single declaration wasn’t enough. Jesus blew out another hard breath, this time through his teeth. He looked at Chad in the silence after the other spoke, absorbing it. 

“Alright. You’re here to fucking fight. I get it,” he said quietly. His lips twisted into a frown. “I’ll try not to knock out any of your teeth.”  

On that note he turned and went back to his corner of the ring, and closed his eyes, and breathed deeply for a count of seven. Somewhere in the room, Javi rang a bell. 

“Javi gave you the run-down, right?” he said, approaching through the milling crowd to where she stood just near the ring. “You win, you get a percentage from anyone who bet on you. You get seriously hurt, you’re not allowed to call 911 no matter how much it hurts; we got a medic to sure you don’t die. Pretty much anything goes as long as you’re not biting or aiming my eyes.”

“Hey, get back here ma’am,” he said as he knelt by the bag, Flower still straining on her leash after something he couldn’t see. “Come on, girl, daddy’s gotta salvage lunch. Hold up a bit.”

When the place had been mentioned to him, seemed more like a joke than anything else. As if anyone would really run an underground boxing ring right there in Grimmbrook. Yet, as he looked around, everything did seem legit. It even seemed like he was going to get his chance to take part in everything. It was only when he saw exactly who his opponent for the fight was that Chad hesitated for just a moment. It had been a while since he had seen Jesus – since the guy had told him that he had a boyfriend. It was a bit better, sure, but he had been ignoring Jesus’s calls and just generally avoiding anything to do with him. Chad had never promised that he would be reasonable and mature about handling anything. Jesus had brought this upon himself by getting involved.

At the nickname, he winced, tightening the wraps around his hand. “Don’t call me that. And what does it look like I’m doing here? This is a fighting ring, isn’t it? This is an underground fight club, is it not? So, obviously, I’m here to fight.”

Jesus hadn’t seen Chad since he broke off the sex-specific part of whatever their relationship was. After that it was pretty obvious that the other was ignoring him, and Jesus’ desire to give Chad space warred with his worry for Chad’s health. Well. He had a pretty good idea of how Chad was doing now. Which was not great, if just looking at him was a fair indicator, and the fact that he was here of all places. How had he even found out about the Cage? One of his dealers? This place was the kind of underground he didn’t figure someone like Chad would deliberately seek out. In fact, he knew Chad was fit, but he wouldn’t have ever expected him to be a fighter. 

Jesus frowned at the snap. “Sorry, man.” Chad’s response had him exhaling sharply. Shit. Chad was here with an axe to grind, with life in general if not Jesus specifically. 

“This isn’t a gym, Chad,” he said seriously, stepping close and pitching his voice low. “People get hurt here, bad.” Sometimes Jesus and Javi were the ones who hurt them, and other times they were hurt themselves. That was part of the appeal of this place, of the fact that it wasn’t strictly legal; they had no boundaries. Plus, they made a killing with the betting. “Seriously, the fuck are you doing here?”

He hadn’t meant to be so fierce, but he didn’t like the idea of Chad diving into something he didn’t fully understand. They were slated to fight, so unless Chad decided to tap out, they’d fight, and Jesus would just have to do his level best not to knock out any of the other man’s teeth. 

“I have thought about it.” Tyler said, running one of his thumbs across Jesus’s cheekbones. Honesty was the mode du jour so no point holding back now. Not when J seemed to think he wasn’t long-term material for some dumbass reason. “If I wanted someone rich or safe or less likely to piss off a cop as much as I do on the regular, then I would’ve gone for them. But I didn’t. I don’t care how much money you have, I’m broke as shit too. When I’m with you, I’m safe. That’s what matters. I know I’m safe when I’m with you. You would never hurt me.” You are not like Mike.

The fact that Jesus had dumb hang ups (not safe enough? As though Ty wasn’t an accessory to most of the crimes at this point, as if he wasn’t basically gang mascot) at least made it easier for him to believe it was all really happening. They were both sitting here in this uncomfortable church pew, fully in love and somehow nothing important had gotten lost along the way. Somehow Tyler had made it through that whole conversation intact.

At Jesus question, Tyler almost giggled like some dumb teenager. They were gonna kiss. Fully sober and everything, for the very first time. Maybe he’d died and this church pew was heaven. If that was the case heaven could use some upholstery. “Yeah,” he said, grinning so hard it hurt, “Yeah I think that would be okay. I’d really really like that. Go on ahead, hot stuff.”

He’d thought about it. Seriously. Beyond just thinking Jesus was hot. The disbelief and relief and elation were a heady combination in Jesus’ chest, making him hot and cold and heavy and light all over. 

“Of course you’re safe,” Jesus said, leaning into the fingers on his cheek, chest tight suddenly at the implication in Ty’s words. “Anything touches you and I’ll go fucking feral on them. And not just because you’re my boyfriend, because you’re my friend, too.”

Maggie blinked. She’d always been so straight-laced growing up that it honestly hadn’t occurred to her. There was always a goal to work towards and deviating hadn’t factored into the grand twelve-step plan. Childhood pranks and adventures with Alex were one thing, but breaking the law was another. “I– I think that’s something you’d probably have to ask Alex. His life is way more interesting than mine.”

She did appreciate that Jesus found her badass, even if it was at the detriment of Brandon and Daniel. Both men were plenty tough and she respected them deeply. Even if they probably couldn’t do the full Marine training course. They’d never been expected to do so, and none of this weirdness fell into ‘normal cop’ jurisdiction anyhow. 

“Letting it know that it’s not the boss of me.” She said flippantly, even as she felt the exact opposite. The fog was the boss here. Maggie didn’t have time to get sick.

Giving Jesus a look out of the corner of her eye, she grinned.  “You’re doing recon, is what you’re doing. Tell me what your elf eyes see, then.”

Jesus took in her expression, and her words, and cracked a smile. “Sure thing; I’ll ask him as soon as you tell me who that is,” he said, tone light rather than pointed. “From your tone, I’m guessing he’s more fun than you? Nah, I’m just teasing. I’m sure you’re plenty fun.”

He nodded slowly at her explanation, trying to look serious, but unable to keep his smile from coming back and shaking his head. “I’m pretty sure I’d rather it wasn’t sentient enough to, you know, know that,” he offered. He didn’t say that standing her wasting time throwing rocks into it was hardly a sturdy declaration of superiority, either. She probably already knew that. 

His life was explicitly defined by when he was working and when he wasn’t. Everything else was put on the back burner as the sheriff’s department dealt with the mist. There were the hours when he was at work, searching through the mist. There were the hours when he was at home, sheltered in place, trying to take the time minute by minute. 

He had a good schedule going, but he didn’t necessarily like this work. He felt like everything that was happening was his fault. He didn’t know what he could have done, but he felt like he could have done more to figure out what the mist was before it spread. Daniel was dejected with this police work because it just kept getting worse and worse. It felt like there was no solution in sight, and it left him feeling hopeless as he went to work. But he did his job to the best of his ability because he had to. 

He was headed to work, his shift starting when the mist came in strong. He mistimed when he left for work. Or the mist was just getting stronger earlier. Whatever the case, Daniel needed to find shelter and fast. He ducked into the nearest building, not thinking much of it. He was usually so observant, but he was in a panic. If this was any other time, he would have noticed how poorly boarded up this place was, that there were still visible cracks in the windows or that some of the boards were about to fall off. 

He’d have to call and say he would be late to work, but that was the last thing on his mind as he heard someone call out. “Yes, it’s Detective Daniel Mickey.” He hoped it wasn’t a looter, but rather a scared person who happened to be stuck here as well. The voice sounded familiar, but without a face to match it with, he couldn’t quite tell. 

Jesus groaned and let his posture slip from its tense set the minute he heard the voice identify itself. “Fucking really?” he said, pulling out his phone and clicking on the flashlight so he could actually see ahead of him in the dark. And sure enough, there the man was, possibly his least-favorite person in the world. Jesus was tempted to just turn around, but they had about two hours before the mist would let up enough that it was safe to venture out in the minimal gear he had on (”gear” meaning a bandana over his face and some old welding goggles that were now situated on his forehead). 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, unreasonably irritated that now he was going to be stuck in this place with Daniel fucking Mickey. He probably should have been a bit more polite, considering the tenuous nature of his deal with the man, but right now he wasn’t thinking straight. (Hah, “straight”. Ty would’ve made a joke about that).

Puffing out her cheeks, Danielle considered a few of her options when responding to Jesus’ comment and instead attempted to internalize any negative reaction. It wasn’t that she actively fought against those who cared about her, but that it was easier to believe in the bad about herself and how people saw her than to believe in others. “I don’t…” Okay, so she wasn’t the greatest at keeping everything to herself but she wasn’t about to argue that with Jesus or anyone as she shook her head and let it drop.

             “A lot of people do brave things from cowardly reasons, but it’s what you do next that dictates if you’re brave or not.” Though she shrugged through the comment, Danielle did plenty of things out of fear and often couldn’t consider her actions to be brave but necessity. The jobs that her family pulled when she was younger to her current job, Danielle did what needed to be done to survive. Though following her heart? She didn’t trust the damn thing, much less listen to it enough to let anyone know when they were important to her outside of her family.

Danielle rolled her eyes, pressing her tongue against her teeth as she made a small face at him. “Then don’t go and act like you’re going to trash it all if you don’t want me to come in and mess it all up like I do everything else.” She gestured towards her knitting, but the words could have described just about every aspect of her life as she set it back down again. “I’m gonna make Flower a matching sweater to the one that you’re going to get that will most definitely be lop sided with a sleeve too long,” she teased lightly.

“Yeah, because that sounded so convincing,” Jesus said, giving her a pointed look and then shaking his head, expression amused. He wasn’t out to interrogate her, but he would call her out on bullshit if it was as painfully obvious as that had been. 

He grimaced at her next words. “No offense, but I think I’m done with this conversation, if that’s alright? Because I’m definitely gonna stay cowardly and do absolutely nothing about it.” In theory he could agree with what she said, but Jesus was definitely no closer to talking to Ty about this than he was before they started discussing it. He was just tired, and there was an ache in his chest.

“Shit, Dani, you’re morose as hell today, anyone mention that?” Jesus said, glancing at her curiously. “It’s knitting and baking, not an exercise in self-loathing. You sure you’re alright? ‘Cause in-between all your stellar advice, all I’m getting is you punching down at yourself like, a lot. Also; don’t threaten a sweater for my dog like it’s a bad thing. It would be fucking adorable and I would be very pleased.”