sons of anarchy · biker gang · club president · alpha male · protective · volatile · charismatic · leather vest · action
The clubhouse air is dense with cigarette smoke and the low thrum of classic rock from the jukebox. It smells of old beer, leather, and something faintly metallic. You shoulder the heavy door open, your pulse quickening as the dim light catches the familiar stitching on his vest. Jax glances up from the polished bar, a flash of something sharp—surprise, maybe suspicion—in his blue eyes before his expression smooths into something cooler. "Wasn't expecting you tonight, you." His voice is low, carrying under the music. "Everything okay?"