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Poor Tom	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1472 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 21JS or the characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
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Dennis had taken a week’s leave from his job so he could be there for Hanson whenever he needed him. With the trial weighing heavily on Tom’s mind, Booker tried his best to keep him occupied. For the two days following Tom’s testimony, their routine hardly varied. They met with Maria Dodson in the morning and after discussing various aspects of the case, Booker drove Tom up the coast so they could lunch at a restaurant that was situated high on a cliff overlooking the ocean. They did not discuss the case, preferring to talk about mundane things such as sport and world events. Their evenings were spent alone at Hanson’s apartment. They would watch television and Booker would cook a light meal before they fell into bed and sated each other’s needs. Tom was grateful for Dennis’ companionship as it helped him to forget about the trial, even though he knew the outcome was now completely out of his hands. He had already started putting the past behind him and he had begun to think about what type of career path he could take, now that he had left the force. Deep down, he hoped he could find work that that was as fulfilling as the Jump Street Program had been. But he doubted he would ever be that lucky again. His father had been a policeman and he had been proud to follow in his footsteps. Even when his father died doing the job he loved, it did not dampen Tom’s enthusiasm as a police officer. Since the age of six, he could not remember ever wanting to be anything but a cop. Now he had no choice, he needed to find something to fill his time and earn money, even if it meant doing a job that was unrewarding and mundane.
Lying on the rumpled sheets of his bed, Tom moaned as Dennis’ fingers slowly penetrated him. He could feel Booker’s mouth sucking at his throat and he tried to reach down so he could stimulate his lover. Booker stilled Hanson’s hand as his voice vibrated against Tom’s throat. “It’s okay baby, just relax and enjoy it.”
Tom did as he was asked and his moaning became louder as Dennis gently massaged his prostate. “Ohhh,” he groaned, as his hands gripped at the sheets. “Ohhh Dennis… ohhh Jesus!”
Booker trailed his tongue slowly along Tom’s collarbone. “Do you want me to touch you?” he murmured softly.
“Yesss,” Tom hissed, his body writhing beneath Booker. “Slowly.”
Kneeling up so his legs straddled Tom’s slender body, Booker continued his internal stimulation as the fingertips of his other hand gently ran up and down Hanson’s erection. “Talk to me,” he breathed, his own cock now hard.
Gazing lovingly at his partner, Tom’s eyes were black with desire. “I wanna play with you,” he groaned. “Let me touch you.”
Dennis’ eyes flickered with hunger. “Okay,” he groaned. “But don’t make me come… not yet. I wanna make it last.” As Hanson gently tugged at his cock, Booker’s head dropped back and his breathing became heavy. “Jesus Tommy, oh Jesus.”
The promise of taking things slow was soon forgotten. Tom’s body thrashed wildly from the pleasure of double stimulation. He tore at the sheets as his arousal intensified and he began to pant. “Oh fuck… oh fuck… oh Dennis… fuck yeah… so good… so good… oh God… oh God… oh Jeeesusss!” As his orgasm hit, Tom’s upper body rose off the bed and he grasped the back of Booker’s head and pulled him roughly towards him. His mouth found Dennis’ and he kissed him frantically, his tongue forcefully pushing open Booker’s lips so he could gain access. Dennis removed his fingers and threw his arms around Tom’s narrow waist, holding him upright. As Tom’s hand quickened he broke their kiss and bit down on the tender flesh between Hanson’s neck and collarbone.
When Tom yelped in pain, Booker climaxed hard, his warm juices covering Hanson’s hand and both their stomachs. Finding Tom’s mouth, they kissed passionately until their bodies started to relax. Booker released his hold and Tom fell back onto the mattress. A moment later, Booker dropped to his hands, his body poised over Tom’s. Leaning forward, he kissed his lover tenderly as his finger lightly touched the angry bite mark. “Sorry baby,” he muttered as he pressed his lips against the red wound. “You just get me so worked up.”
Tom grinned. “I could say the same about you.”
Climbing over Hanson’s body, Booker lay down and pulled his lover into his arms. Tom’s head found Dennis’ chest and he snuggled in close, gaining comfort from the warmth. Glancing at the illuminated numbers of the clock, he let out a sigh. “What’s wrong?” Booker asked, as his fingers played with Tom’s hair.
“It’s one o’clock, closing arguments will begin in eight hours,” Tom muttered, his voice suddenly sounding strained.
Dennis pressed his lips against Tom’s forehead. “And then it will be over,” Booker replied softly. Pulling up the covers, he continued to stroke Tom’s hair. “Close your eyes baby and try and get some sleep.”
Tom exhaled heavily. He knew he would not be able to fall asleep, even after reaching an intense orgasm. But he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax against Booker’s gentle touch. Eventually, Dennis’ hand stilled and Tom could hear his soft breathing as he slept. But Hanson lay awake throughout the long night, thinking about the trial. In a few hours, he would know if his testimony had convinced the jury of twelve men and women or if they thought of him as just another corrupt cop.
**
The next day, Hanson refused to leave the apartment, wanting to stay close to the phone in case any news came through. He spoke to Maria Dodson briefly but she had no real updates. Booker busied himself around the apartment as Tom sat staring with sightless eyes at the television. He made lunch but Tom barely touched his sandwich. As the hours passed, Booker wondered if the jury was deadlocked. If a mistrial was declared, he did not think Tom would be able to withstand a new trial. Glancing at the kitchen clock, he saw that five hours had passed since court went into session. Nerves began to get the better of him and he dropped a plate he was carrying onto the tiled floor. As the plate smashed, he swore violently and turning, he slammed his fist into the wall. Whilst he cradled his hand, he felt Tom next to him. Looking up, he was surprised to see that his lover was grinning.
“What’s so fucking funny,” he snapped, unable to contain his anger and hurt.
Taking Booker’s hand in his, Tom carefully surveyed the damaged knuckles. “I thought I was the one who was into self harm,” he joked lightly. Bringing Dennis’ hand to his lips, he kissed the bloodied knuckles tenderly. “Do you feel better now?”
Placing his hand lightly on the back of Tom’s neck, Booker pulled him in for a kiss. “Sorry,” he murmured, feeling like a fool for his testosterone fueled display of anger. “I just can’t stand the waiting.”
‘Yeah,” Tom answered quietly. “The jury would have gone out hours ago.”
As though by divine providence, the telephone’s shrill ring pierced the air. Tom stared at Booker frantically, unable to move. Dennis ran to the phone and snatched it up. He stood silently before muttering a few brief words and hanging up. Turning to Tom, his eyes were full of emotion. “The jury’s coming back, they’ve reached a verdict.”
Tom nodded, unable to speak. Walking over to the couch, he sat down and rested his head in his hands. He felt the seat next to him depress as Booker sat next to him and then a strong, comforting arm circled his shoulders. “Do you want to go down to the courthouse?” Booker asked quietly.
Lifting his head, Tom shook it before managing a half smile. “I’d rather stay here with you. It doesn’t matter if I’m there or not.”
Dennis returned the smile and they sat silently watching television, their nerves jangling as they waited for the second phone call. Forty minutes later and the silence was broken. Booker gave Tom an encouraging smile. “I think you’d better answer this one.”
Tom got slowly to his feet and wiped his sweaty palms on the front of jeans. Moving as though in a dream, he walked the short distance to the phone and picked it up. “Hanson,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Booker watched on, his hands clenching and unclenching as his anxiety mounted. He could gauge nothing about the conversation from Tom’s words or his expression. Minutes ticked by before Hanson gently replaced the receiver. Turning to face Booker, his face was impassive as he muttered “Guilty,” before bursting into tears.
Dennis was beside Tom in moments, holding him close as his lover wept with relief. “You did it baby,” Booker murmured, his own tears spilling from his eyes. “You fucking did it.”
Tom lifted his tear stained face and gazed at Booker. “We did it,” he replied softly. “I could never have done this without your support.”
“What did Dodson say?” Dennis asked, as he gently wiped the tears from Tom’s face.
“Sentencing will be in a week. Um, he asked if I wanted to read a victim impact statement.” Tom replied faintly.
“Do you?” Booker inquired, keeping his voice calm.
Tom looked uncertain. “I dunno, maybe. Or maybe I could get someone to read it for me.”
Booker wondered if Tom was asking him to be that person. He pressed his lips affectionately into Tom’s hair. “If you want me to do it, I’ll do it. Just say the word.”
Leaning against Dennis’ chest, Tom thought about it for a moment. Matty Richardson and the others knew exactly what the impact on his life had been since the rapes. His self-harming and suicide attempt had all come out in court as part of the evidence. He wondered if standing in front of them, telling them face to face how they had almost completely destroyed his life would be beneficial to him. Part of him felt it was unnecessary but another voice in his ear said that it would be the final part of his recovery. If he could stare them down without fear and tell them that they had not defeated him, that he had ultimately come out of the ordeal a stronger person, they would know that they had not won. They were the ones now facing lengthy prison terms whilst he was free to live his life. A small smile played on his lips and lifting his head, he gave Booker a determined look. “No, I think I should be the one to do it. Make the bastards see that they didn’t break me.”
“That’s my boy,” Booker murmured softly, as tears once again filled his eyes. “I knew you could do it.”
**
The courtroom was packed as word of the trial had spread to the newspapers. Tom stood nervously next to Booker as the defendants were led into the dock. The judge spoke briefly before addressing Tom. “Mr. Hanson, are you ready?”
Standing up, Tom approached the small dais. Facing the defendants, he gave them a hard stare. All but Matty Richardson dropped their eyes. The youth stared back insolently, his eyes dark with hatred. Not dropping his gaze, Hanson addressed the six boys.
“When you entered my cell that night, you knew exactly what you were going to do. The method of your actions tells me that this was not the first time you had done something like this. Therefore, today I am speaking on behalf of all those who have not had the chance to have a voice. That night and on the nights that followed, you took away a part of me that I can never get back. I am no longer the Tom Hanson I used to be. The violent and terrifying way you assaulted me, changed my life forever. I spiraled into a dark depression, to the point where I believed there was no place for me on this earth. But in the aftermath of my suffering, I found a new Tom Hanson, a stronger, more determined Tom Hanson, who has battled his inner demons and won. You may think you broke me that night in my cell but you didn’t. I stand here now, happier than I have ever been in my life, mostly due to the love and support of my partner. He does not see me as a victim, he sees me as a warrior, a hero who battled the forces of evil and triumphed. I have my life, I have my lover and I have my freedom. Your freedom is about to be taken away from you. I hope it was worth it.”
Throughout his speech, Tom’s eyes never left Matty’s. By the end, the young offender was staring sullenly at the ground. Turning away, Tom walked back to Booker, who placed a loving arm around his shoulder.
Clearing his throat, the judge passed sentence. “The crime of rape is one of the most serious that comes before the court. That this type of crime could be perpetrated within the walls of a government run facility is incomprehensible. Yet here you stand before me, having been found guilty of such a crime. Matthew Karl Richardson, I hereby sentence you to 5 years in prison to be served within the confines of Riverbend until your eighteenth birthday. Upon reaching your eighteenth birthday, you will be transferred to an adult prison to serve the remainder of your sentence. This sentence is to be served consecutively with your current sentence. Jerome James Jackson, I hereby sentence you…”
As the judge continued to sentence each youth, Tom and Booker stood holding each other, crying quietly. The ordeal was finally over and now they could finally look towards their future together.
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Poor Tom