LANCASTER AND MAXWELL ( ✔ )

chapter twenty-eight.

Chapter Twenty-Eight.

SULLY winds up with a two-week suspension, and he doesn't bother refuting it. He did break Haberlie's nose and give him a busted lip with everything in between, so the young man walks away from the situation feeling pretty good about what he's done. Though, he doesn't leave the battle unscathed; he's earned himself a black eye so shiny, stars are envious. The people don't lie when they say that Haberlie's got a nasty right arm for a cannon.

Jude is mad when he hears the news and has to pick him up from school, but he's nowhere near as fuming as Sully is in the passenger seat.

"Seriously, SJ?" The dark haired man gives his usual snort of disapproval, hands holding a choking death grip on the steering wheel. "You didn't even have a fucking chance to step inside the school building before you start picking fights? Did you decide that you'd have a fulfilling career as a boxer instead?"

Sully doesn't even have it in him to speak yet because he knows what he'll say will come off the wrong way. He's so hot with rage that if this was a cartoon, literal steam would be pouring out of his ears. With his arms folded across his chest, pouting, he finally finds words to say. "I was disrespected, Jude. In front of Sadie, all his cronies, and the people that matter in that goddamn school," he speaks through gritted teeth.

"I thought you didn't care what the people in that school thought about you."

"I don't. This was about—" He can't even bark out the name without losing the death grip on his words, so he sighs and his voice softens and loses the edge of malice that it held. "This was about Artie," he repeats. Dammit, even when he's supposed to be mad, he can't. He knows he should, because it turns out he's the martyr that's taking the brunt of it all, but he can't. Sully's just taking his turn on the cross.

"How was this about Arthur?"

"Because we're fucking, Jude! God, is this a game of twenty-one questions?"

"... I didn't even know you liked boys."

"Well, I do! I take it in the ass, if that what you wanted to hear?" He barks at him; though he feels bad about it almost immediately. He turns his head to the side to look at Jude's face, and he knows that he doesn't get it right now, not really, not the way he needs him to.

The younger man starts, much quietly this time. "Do you remember that time Ma got accused of stealing Senator Clayton's wife's necklace, and we all know she didn't do it? Remember the way that you got so angry that her reputation was on the line and she didn't care and your boss was threatening to take her immunity away?"

Slowly, he nods with understanding. "Your mother is a lot of things, but a thief isn't one of them."

Sully sighs. "It's like that. Someone's gotta care, and that person's gotta be me." By this time, they've finally pulled into the driveway of their home and Jude shuts off the ignition. SJ doesn't know why he feels the need to explain himself, but he does. Maybe it just feels nice to speak to someone who doesn't know a thing about the situation. "I ... I'm in love with him, okay? By disrespecting me and talking about what I am in front of everybody, then he's disrespectin' Art, and nobody does that but me."

Jude sits back in the seat, moving his mouth from side to side as if he can't find the words to say to ease the conversation. "You really didn't have to tell me you took it up the ass, SJ," he grumbles.

Giving a solemn laugh, he shrugs. "I'm sorry, yeah? I'm just ... a little strung out is all," he admits.

"Hey." Sully looks over and feels a bit better at the reassuring smile painted on the man's face. "Cheer up, kid. If everything was meant to fall in place, then it will. I wouldn't put too much thought into it."