Persuasion

Title: Persuasion
Chapter: 1/?
Word count: 1,491
Author: silmfan
Contact: silmfan96@yahoo.com
Website: silmfan.livejournal.com
Fandom: Four Brothers
Feedback: Um. I probably need it, seeing as I haven't written any fics in a while. Forgive my extremely abrupt style in this story. I'm rusty. (But it could just be rug burn.) Anyway, if it weren't for the wonderful FB stories from the prolific veiledndarkness, I would not have hacked out this sub-par, still-incomplete fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own "Four Brothers" or anything/anyone therein. Regrettably. I also make no money from these writings.
Rating: Er...PG-13, bordering on R? (I don't know. There's swearing. What are kids comfortable with these days?)
Beta: Any volunteers?
Summary: Jack convinces a judge to mitigate Bobby's sentence.
Warning: Fuck if I know how the legal/penal system actually works. This is not in any way a reflection of reality.

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“Heard your brother’s goin’ back to the slammer,” the black-haired, green-eyed teen smirked as he leaned against a lamppost and cocked out a hip. “That oughta make the crime rate go down for a while.” Jack glared at him.

“Bobby hasn’t even been sentenced yet. His trial’s on Wednesday.”

The teen guffawed. “Oh, we all know he’s goin’. You don’t get a slap on the wrist for assault and battery. Two years, two decades. Whatever.” He casually fished out a cigarette and took his time lighting it. He puffed out a smoke ring and sighed. “Unless....” He trailed off, looking suggestively at Jack. Jack stopped miserably scuffing his shoes against the pavement and frowned. He leaned his head forward, his interest peaked.

“Unless what?” he lowered his voice and scanned the streets. The teen gave Jack another smug grin and tilted his head in a conspiratorial fashion.

“Oh? Jackie’s been off the streets so long, he hadn’t heard?”

“What? Heard what?” Jack scowled. “Tell me.” The teen rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated groan.

“And here I thought you were the smartest of the Mercers.” He pushed back the dark locks of hair that fell into his eyes, then looked at Jack slant-wise. “Well...you know what to do. Information isn’t free, pretty boy. Even though we do go...way back.”

“Fuck you,” Jack hissed. “I don’t do that shit anymore, so I can’t give you what you want.”

“Too bad,” the green-eyed youth gave a long-suffering sigh. “You are so very...talented, after all.” Jack choked out a laugh in disbelief.

“You, of all people, couldn’t find anyone better?”

“Hey, this is Detroit,” the teen huffed. “Slim pickings...”

“C’mon, man. Just tell me straight. I don’t have time,” Jack pleaded. The other boy gave him a long look.

“One kiss.”

“You seriously want a--”

“With tongue,” he smiled as he reached out to trace Jack’s lips. The youngest Mercer’s mouth tightened into a grimace and he jerked his head away. The teen smirked.

“Like you said. You don’t have time.” He shrugged and made as if he was taking off. Jack cursed under his breath.

“Fine!”

The dark-haired youth smiled, his angled face taking on a more predatory look. Jack rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, reluctantly pressing himself up against the slightly taller boy. Jack leaned forward when suddenly the youth grabbed his chin, looking down with laughing eyes.

“It’s gotta be good, Jackie. Like you mean it.”

“Just shut up,” he mumbled and quickly slanted his lips against the boy’s. Jack struggled not to pull back when he felt a slick tongue coax its way into his mouth. He instantly tensed up as a long arm wound its way around his slim waist.

‘Fuck, how long does this hafta take?’ Jack thought irritably, his mouth currently under uncomfortable invasion. A minute passed. Then two.

“Mmrrgh.” Jack’s muffled protests seemed to fall on deaf ears, until – without any warning – the teen let go. The youngest Mercer gasped for breath and immediately brought up his sleeve to wipe his saliva-slickened mouth. The other boy leaned back against the lamppost and gave what Jack swore might've been a wistful look.

“Well, you held up your end of the bargain. Although...not quite as enthusiastically as I’d hoped. Perhaps if things were different...”

Jack tilted his head up to the sky. Shit, it was getting dark. “All right. I gave you a kiss. Now spill.” The other boy mustered up an innocent look that might have fooled someone less world-weary.

“Dirty talk, Jack? Well, I never.”

“Stop dickin’ around! Or I swear I’ll fuck up your pretty face.” Fed up with the manipulative asshole, Jack cocked back a tight fist. The teen held up both hands, laughing.

“Whoa, Jackie. Calm down or you’ll land in prison, too. And we wouldn’t want that.” He placed a hand over Jack’s fist, ignoring the blonde’s snarls, and slowly brought it down. “I don’t break my promises. You know that.”

“Is there...ANY way we can get Bobby out of it?” Jack murmured, his shoulders slumping miserably. The dark-haired boy shook his head, a serious countenance now gracing his face.

“You don’t think your ma wouldn’t have tried it already, if there was? Look, there’s...a way YOU can get Judge Wharton to mitigate Bobby’s sentence.” Jack took note of the pause and emphasis, letting it process through his head. ‘Fuck.’ He closed his eyes tiredly and ran pale, long fingers over the bridge of his nose while shaking his head.

“You sure he’s--?” He opened his eyes to see the teen dip his head in affirmation. “Damn it! I promised Ma...promised all of them...” The other boy’s eyes hardened, although he gently rubbed Jack’s arm.

“You gotta do what you gotta do for your family.” Jack nodded, struggling to suppress his rising anxiety.

“How do I get in touch with him?” he whispered.


+++++


Jack gritted his teeth as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The old, fucking bastard had been brutal. But he had extracted a promise from Wharton that Bobby’s sentence would be halved from the expected length, before being subjected to ropes, handcuffs, whippings, and what felt like hours of vicious ass-fucking. ‘Shit, I can’t even walk properly.’

As he approached the house, he started running a list of plausible excuses through his head. But each one seemed less believable than the last. He nearly stumbled when he saw the front door thrown wide open. Evelyn, clutching the hem of her dress, shaded her eyes from the glaring street lights. Jack looked away, unable to face her sad, anxious expression.

“Jack? Is that you?” Evelyn ran up to him, immediately running gentle hands over his face and shoulders, checking for injuries. “Lord, where have you been? I’ve been so worried. Were you...?” Her voice trailed off.

“No, Ma.” Jack whispered fiercely, as an overwhelming sorrow came up hard and gripped him. He bit his lip and surged forward, hanging onto Evelyn like his life depended on it. “No drugs, no booze, no hustlin’. I promise.” He winced, glad Evelyn couldn’t see his face. He fucking hated lying to her.

“Oh, Jack. I’m just glad you’re all right.” Evelyn reached up to lovingly pat the back of his head. “Now come inside. Did you eat? Are you hungry?”

“No, Ma. I just...need to sleep.” He forced a smile on his face as they entered the house, nearly fainting on the spot from the agony blazing up and down his long legs.

“You just go on up, then.” Evelyn bestowed on her youngest son another smile that he felt he didn’t deserve. She turned around to bolt and lock the door, while Jack balefully glared at the Mount-Everest-like stairs. He gripped the banister so hard his knuckles turned white and his vision began to swim dangerously. Wanting nothing more than to crawl under the covers of his bed, he placed all his remaining focus on just making it up the fucking stairs, not noticing Evelyn’s increasingly worried glances.

At last, he reached the final step, only to find Jeremiah blocking his way. ‘FUCK.’ Jack breathed shallowly.

“What...what d’you want? I need to go to sleep, Jer.”

“Hey, man...” Jerry started warily. “Look, I ain’t tryin’ to say nothin’...but Angel said he was out by Dino’s helpin’ out a friend, and he saw you with some kid he knew back when he was hustlin’. Now I know you and Angel weren’t in the same circles, but--” He trailed off as Jack sighed and shook his head.

“I was just talkin’ to him. I already stopped doin’...those things. You know that.”

“Alright, alright. Just makin’ sure.” Jerry gave Jack a few pats on the shoulder, and Jack bit his tongue to avoid crying out in pain. “Don’t want you hurt. That’s all.”

“Thanks, Jer.” Jack’s shoulders hunched up a little. Jerry nodded and started heading down the stairs, when an idea suddenly came to him.

“Wait, Jack.” The blonde stopped but didn’t turn around. “Is he your...? I mean, uh...we don’t care if...uh...you know...” Jerry mentally cursed himself for making this conversation much more awkward than he intended. Jack sighed. He couldn’t even muster up the energy to find Jerry’s stuttering amusing.

“No.”

“Ah, I see,” the elder brother nodded hesitantly, not sure which implication Jack was referring to. The blonde didn’t have to see his older brother’s face to hear the uncertainty.

“Not my boyfriend,” Jack clarified, continuing his slow way toward his – technically, Bobby’s – bedroom.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Jus’...you know, if you ever want to bring someone home...”

“...Yeah,” Jack mumbled as he stared at the floor. Jerry cleared his throat and turned his gaze back toward the stairs.

“Well, uh, good. That’s good. I’m, uh, gonna help Ma with the dishes now.”

Jack couldn’t have cared less. And the second he lay prone on Bobby’s bed, he passed out.

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[TBC]