"Cleansing" ch. 19
Title: Cleansing (ch. 19)
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Tom/Doug, Doug/OC, Tom/OC
Disclaimer: I don't own 21 Jumpstreet, nor it's characters. All belong to Callen and peeps.
Warnings: M/M, slash, angst, self-abuse, language, dub-con (?)
Summary: After having killed a teen, Doug tries to comfort his partner. Neither had any idea of the harsh consequences that were to come from Tom merely doing his job.
A/N: Exactly one month since the last update! It's okay, because I brought an ass load for this chapter. A hook up between these two; finally, right?! :p
Link to chapter 18: here
Chapter Nineteen
****
For a week, Tom was suspended in a realm all of his own. He barely moved. He hardly ate. He did not bathe. He unplugged the phone from the wall and did not answer the door. The majority of his time was spent watching the recorded footage of his torment and lying in a curled up bundle on the floor.
Once, his mother came by. She knocked and called his name, saying something about missing appointments. Tom desperately wanted to get up and see her, but there was nothing in him that could overcome his deep depression; all he could do was remain on the floor in a fetal position as he wept.
Doug was called by the hospital, due to him being listed as an emergency contact on Tom’s paperwork after Margaret Hanson, and questioned if he knew how to reach Tom. Having his attention brought to the situation of his partner’s mysterious disappearance, he traveled to Hanson’s apartment and knocked firmly on the door. So far, Hanson had missed two sessions with the psychiatrist and three physical therapy sessions. When there was no answer, he rapped on the wood again. No one came.
“Tom?” he called lightly, though loud enough for his partner to hear him from inside. “Tommy? It’s Doug. Are you there? Come answer the door. Please? A lot of people are worried about you.” He groped around the top part of the door frame, expecting to find the spare key there as usual. However, Tom must have taken it, for it was not there. “Please let me in.”
To his astonishment, the door opened the tiniest bit, just enough to leave it ajar. Doug waited for a minute or so before slowly pushing it open all the way to step inside. Hanson was nowhere near the entrance, though Doug soon spotted him crawling back to the far corner of the room where the computer desk was. Tom stopped when he reached the end of the bar and sat with his back against its base. Swiftly, Doug walked over to him and knelt beside him. His expression twisted into one of grave sympathy upon viewing the state his partner was in. Large, dark circles hung beneath Hanson’s eyes; his complexion was pale and his hair was a tangled, greasy mess. Dried blood adorned his arms and legs from the various wounds he had inflicted upon himself; the knife used to perform the procedures was resting two feet away from him on the ground, blade colored red. There were streaks on his face from where tears had fallen down his slightly dirtied cheeks, and to Doug’s surprise, it looked as if he had lost more weight, giving him a gaunt, hollowed appearance.
The younger man’s eyes were closed, prohibiting him from observing the immense sorrow and grief in the older cop’s expression. Doug did not know what to do. He had expected a breakdown from Tom, but not as severe as this.
Inhaling a shaky breath, Doug placed a gentle hand onto Tom’s good knee and whispered, “Hey buddy.”
There was no reply, not even the slightest movement.
Doug covered his mouth for a brief moment, trying to get a hold of himself; tears were already threatening to leak out. “Can you-” he cleared his throat and spoke again. “Can you look at me? I know you’re not asleep.”
About a minute passed before Hanson let his eyelids drift open. He kept his eyes downcast, prompting Doug to tenderly grip his chin to lift his head. Reluctantly, he met the older male’s affectionate gaze, and Doug had to swallow a gasp of alarm. Those expressive eyes - those beautiful, loveable, brown eyes - were so fraught with inconceivable amounts of agony, disgrace, neglect, and despair that Doug could barely take it. The way they stared at him, conveying such intense suffering and hopelessness, he felt as if a knife had gone straight to his heart.
“Why are you here?” Tom inquired indifferently, voice not much more than a hoarse whisper. Before Doug could answer, he went on. “Let me guess - you came here to beat the ever living shit out of me. Have some fun and fool around. Make me your own personal whore. Spit on me and condemn me to Hell. Am I right?”
“No,” Doug breathed, shaking his head. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
“What else am I supposed to think? Seems like that’s all I’m good for.”
“Have you been watching that stuff every day?”
“Does it matter?”
“Tom….” He took Tom’s face in his hands and let his thumbs softly rub the dampened cheeks. “You’re so much better than that….Can I make you something to eat? Looks like you haven’t eaten in weeks.”
“No. I’ve found a new diet I rather enjoy. Makes things just go away for awhile.”
Doug glanced behind the bar and to the kitchen. A number of empty liquor bottles lie scattered on the floor. “God, Tom, please don’t. I swear it doesn’t make things better.”
“I don’t care.”
“Tommy-”
“Please don’t start on me like that.”
“Okay, okay. You want me to at least help you to the bathroom to take a bath? I think it’ll do you good, relax you, make ya feel better.”
Tom shrugged, and Doug took it as a “yes.” He instructed Hanson to put his arms around his neck and unhurriedly, he picked the younger man up and carried him into the bedroom and through the door to the bathroom. It was very clear to see how exhausted Tom was; he did not make any sort of move to start undressing himself. He leaned against the sink as Doug turned on the water to fill the tub and then allowed his partner to begin removing his clothes. The water-protective sleeve was slipped on to cover his brace, and as they waited on the water, Doug hugged him close.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Penhall whispered into his ear. “I’m always here for you.”
Within a few minutes, the bathtub was two-thirds full with warm water. Hanson was aided into it by Penhall’s steady hands and lowered down. Right away, he bent his left knee and held it to his chest. He made no effort to begin bathing himself, and Doug chose to take on the task for him. After retrieving a clean washcloth, Penhall submerged it underwater for a couple of seconds and then held it above his friend’s head. He wrung it out, letting the clear liquid rain down on Tom’s disheveled hair. A relaxed sigh was the response; he could tell Tom enjoyed the feel of it. Gently, he massaged shampoo into the young man’s dark locks, observing the pleased facial expressions crossing Tom’s face as he did so.
“I really think you should start taking better care of yourself,” Doug stated quietly.
“I’m just not good enough for anything or anyone, am I?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He rinsed his hands off in the water, took the small plastic cup that was sitting on the sink and filled it with water, saying softly, “Tilt your head back.”
Tom did so and closed his eyes as well, while Doug put his hand against the younger man’s forehead to help prevent the shampoo from running onto his face. Four cups worth of water were poured onto the dark hair, and Doug brushed his fingers through it to ensure the shampoo was rinsed out thoroughly. Next was to wash Hanson’s body. He decided he would only do the man’s back, arms, and torso. After soaping up the washcloth, he rubbed it in circles against Hanson’s dorsal side, cringing a little at the sight of the male’s spine so easily discernible.
“Please, will you eat something after this if I make it for you?” Doug asked hopefully.
“Nothing sounds good.”
“I can whip up anything. I’ll even take you out to eat, if you want.”
“No thanks.”
Within a few minutes, Doug had finished what areas he knew were appropriate for him to wash and handed the cloth to Hanson.
“You can do your….down there….” he muttered awkwardly. He turned away to give his friend some privacy, while Tom cleaned his genitals. Once he was finished, Tom cleared his throat and hesitantly met Doug’s gaze.
“All done,” Tom voiced with a feigned smile.
“Ready to get out?”
“Yeah….sure.”
Doug pushed in the little metal handle to start draining the water and pulled Hanson up to stand. The young male cautiously stepped out of the tub and stood still as his partner dried him off. The plastic sleeve covering his brace was taken off, and a towel was wrapped around his waist before he was lead into the bedroom. He was suddenly cold and altogether tired, prompting him to lie down on the bed under the covers. Shivering slightly, he held the top of the sheets and comforter tightly under his chin, curled up on his side, closed his eyes, and sighed deeply. If he never had to leave his bed again, he would be immensely happy.
“Can I get you anything?”
Tom’s eyelids flitted open, and he stared at Doug groggily. “No thanks.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Meds?”
“I’m good.”
“Do you want me to stay for awhile?”
“If you want.”
“Tom….” Doug sat on the edge of the bed beside him and looked at him earnestly. “You know I love you, man. I just want to help. I know it’s bad now, but….it’ll get better, I swear.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“That’s what you have to keep telling yourself if you want to make it through all this. You have to believe it will.”
“Well, sorry if I don’t see it that way. All God has to do is let me die here in bed, and I’d be so happy; things would be better then.”
“There are a lot of people who would miss you. I guarantee that.”
A shrug. “They’ll have realized I was worthless sooner or later.”
“That’s not true.”
After a pause, Hanson inquired quietly, “What would you do?” The question was timid and worried; Doug could see it in his eyes.
“I’d miss you,” Doug answered softly. “I’d miss you a lot. You’re my best friend, Tommy. You’ve put up with everything I’ve done, whether it’s been immature or not. You’ve been there for me to talk me down when I almost do something stupid. You’ve been there to listen to me, or be my drinking buddy at night after a tough day. I don’t have any immediate family; and I don’t have any other friends that I can open up to like I can with you. You’re….You’re the most important person in my life, Tom. I don’t want to lose you….I can’t lose you.”
Doug was taken aback to discover he had begun to cry. He looked at Tom sheepishly, but hurriedly felt comfortable once again upon seeing Tom’s face dampened with tears. With arms extended, Hanson whispered, “Come here,” and spread his legs farther apart. Penhall could not resist the gesture whatsoever; he lied in between the younger man’s legs and rested his head near the crook of Tom’s neck. Fingers were soon stroking his hair lovingly, making him let out a comforted sigh. Hanson closed his eyes and leaned his head against his partner’s. He could not remember a time when Doug Penhall had ever cried. It just did not happen. But now….he realized just how much he was hurting him.
Another example of what a disappointment he was to others. Another testament to what he was not good enough for: being a friend.
“Doug, I….” he started, unsure of what he wanted, or should, say. “I’m sorry. But what do I do? I can’t….I can’t handle it. I don’t want to live with all of this anymore.”
“I know it’s hard for you now; I know that. And I won’t say I understand what you’re going through, because I don’t. But I want to help you as much as I possibly can, if you’ll let me.”
“Come on,” Tom said with a light laugh. “Tell the truth. You do not. You’ve got better things to do; I know that.”
Doug lifted his head to gaze directly into his friend’s eyes; there was no trace of a lie. “Nothing I have to do is better than you. I mean it. I….I try to take care of you because I want to. And to make up for failing you.”
“Failing me? What are you talking about?”
“I completely failed you. I couldn’t find you before things got so bad. I didn’t save you from those fucking creeps. All I could do was watch them violate you and hurt you. I can’t forgive myself for that, and I don’t expect you to either.”
“Don’t say that,” Tom scolded gently as he tucked a few strands of Doug’s hair behind his ear. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I told you not to come after me. I had given up on being found pretty early on. I didn’t deserve to be found anyway. This….This whole thing is my fault.”
“How do you figure?”
“I killed Tanner. Punishment had to be comin’ sometime, and it did.”
“Tom….I thought you had gotten past that. We talked about it that night before you disappeared. It had to be done. There wasn’t any other way.”
“I hear you, but….I….no.”
“Tom-”
“Let’s just….stop talking about it, okay? I’m really tired.”
“Okay. You want me to go out into the other room?” he asked as he sat up and away from Tom.
“No, you can stay.”
Doug grinned cheerfully, which made Tom smile as well, and shifted to the other half of the bed to lie beside his partner. After kicking off his shoes, he slipped his legs under the covers and nestled back against the two pillows on his side of the bed. When Tom moved to rest on his side to face him, the older man did the same, and the two of them smiled at one another. The shy giddiness in Hanson’s eyes and the fact that he was ultimately naked beneath the clean sheets sent streams of arousal through Doug’s anatomy.
He had no idea he was simply staring at Tom - quite lustfully, in fact - until the younger man quirked a quizzical eyebrow and asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah….of course,” he replied faintly.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay….Maybe I should take off this towel, stop getting the sheets all wet,” he added quietly.
“Yes, yes, you should,” Doug said rather quickly. There was no denying it now; he was losing his self-control. Being in such close proximity to the person he was beyond attracted to for so long and not being able to touch him in the ways in which he yearned to was finally catching up with him.
Hanson un-tucked the front and tried to pull it from under himself, but was not strong enough. “Can you?” he questioned and handed his partner the free end of the towel.
The fabric was swept out from beneath him in one speedy movement and tossed onto the floor. “There. Better?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Tom, can I….Would you….”
“What?”
“I….I want to kiss you,” he admitted reluctantly. It was a rather toned down confession of what he truly longed to do.
“Kiss me? Why?”
“Well….I mean, we could finish what we started that one night last week.”
“What night?”
“Remember? We watched the Dalmatian movie and afterward, we came in here and you kissed me, things heated up, but we stopped before anything really happened.”
Hanson frowned and shook his head. “I guess I don’t. To be honest, I can barely remember back to the start of this week. Why would you want to touch me anyway? You saw everything they did to me.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I want you.”
“Doug….come on. You know what happened the last time we….well, when we….fooled around and did it.”
“And I’ve been wanting to do it again ever since.”
“I….can’t, Doug. I’m sorry.”
“How can you have sex with some random cab driver but not me?”
The question was not spoken in a bitter context, yet the deep insult it caused Hanson was very clear.
“Tom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I-”
“Don’t worry. I get it,” he muttered dejectedly. “Sorry. You’re right. It doesn’t make sense, huh?”
Before Doug could say anything else, Hanson was kissing him fervently. Whatever doubts or hesitations Penhall had formed during their short conversation were suddenly gone. He pulled Tom’s thin body flush against his and ran his hand up and down the smaller man’s back while continuing to kiss him ardently. Feeling Tom’s bare skin in this fashion was intoxicating; he would caress every inch of his partner’s body by the time they were done.
A couple of minutes passed before Tom broke away from Doug’s lips and stared at him coyly. There was trepidation in his dilated eyes, and what he murmured was different than what Penhall was expecting.
“I’ll be right back. Gonna take some meds before we go any further so I don’t get a sudden headache, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sounds good. Go for it.”
Tom gave a chaste smile and then got up from the bed. Grabbing his crutches, he started for the kitchen; Doug’s eyes ravenously drank in the sight of Hanson’s nude backside as the young male went out of the room. With a heavy sigh and excited grin, Penhall began shedding his clothing. Every piece was soon disposed of on the floor. He moved to Hanson’s side of the bed to open the top drawer of the nightstand, checking to make sure the items he would need were there. There was a tube of lubrication rolled all the way up, indicating it was pretty much empty; another small, just opened bottle of lube; and numerous packages of condoms scattered about. Just looking at the contents of the drawer and envisioning what they would soon be used for made his hardened member jump slightly.
At last.
****
Tom opened the refrigerator to retrieve a water bottle, shut the door, and then leaned back against it. Exhaling a deep breath, he closed his eyes and silently considered what he was about to do in the other room. It baffled him, the fact that Doug wished to have him. It did not make any sense; Penhall had seen just how defiled he had become, how worthless and pathetic he was. Why would someone like Doug Penhall, or anyone for that matter, have any sort of desire to make contact with such spoiled territory?
“Oh god….Why are you doing this, Tom?” he breathed dismally. “How can you go through with it? He doesn’t want you for anything other than this. You’re stupid to think he’d ever want something more. You don’t deserve him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
With another sigh, he took the few steps needed to reach the kitchen counter beneath the cabinets where the myriad of prescription drug bottles were. The area was like a private pharmacy. There were at least ten different medications present. Anxiety was building fast, causing him to take out a valium and a Prozac. For any discomfort that may result from either his injuries or from Doug, he swallowed down three eight-hundred milligram ibuprofen capsules and a lower-tab. Tired eyes swept over the labels on the pill bottles and continued to stare at them as he contemplated what to do. After a minute or so, he twisted off the caps of all the containers and took a single tablet from each one. Already, he was beginning to feel light headed and a little disoriented, though he found these effects to be mostly pleasant. His limbs started to feel heavier, and he was growing increasingly sleepy; nevertheless, he made for the bedroom at a leisurely pace, a lop-sided grin plastered on his face.
“Hey,” he greeted quietly as he entered and met Doug’s famished gaze.
“Hey,” was the almost inaudible reply. By now, there was no use hiding how aroused he was. Tom was still flaccid, but that would be remedied in a short time.
“So, um….” Hanson set down his crutches, crept onto the bed, and traced his hand along the side of his partner’s face. “How do we, uh, go about it?”
“Like this.”
Doug captured the younger man’s lips with his own, drawing him into a lengthy, passionate kiss while his hands simultaneously inched along Tom’s body. With lips so soft and full and vocals so enchanting like a melody, Doug believed his friend could quite possibly be an angel. Just for him. All for him. As his fingers discovered the other male’s cock, he grew envious and angry at the notion of anyone else having Hanson the way he was currently experiencing the man’s body. Hanson was his, had always been his - whether as a best friend, pretend brother, or a one-time lover.
With slow maneuvering, Penhall pushed Tom onto his back and followed to hover above him. He nestled himself between the smaller male’s spread legs and started forging a trail of kisses along his skin, beginning at Tom’s forehead. The feeling of Doug’s lips on his face was soft; only when the older cop ventured downward and reached his neck did the kisses become more rough and fiery. Teeth occasionally grazed his skin, causing him to close his eyes in pleasure. The way Doug nibbled on his neck made his toes curl and his back arch upward off the bed a little. He was sure he would enjoy it more if only his head were not so clouded from medication.
There was no rush, and Doug planned on taking his time in having Hanson. So far, all seemed well. The younger man was responding nicely to every one of his caresses, hickeys, and licks; a trembling whimper was a sign to continue on, and Penhall complied whole-heartedly.
Letting his eyes flicker up to gaze at Tom’s face, Doug looked for the approval that he knew was there. Hanson appeared to be somewhat out of it, but not for the reason Penhall believed. Gingerly, he circled the head of Hanson’s cock with his talented tongue and then proceeded to cover the whole shaft with his mouth. Hanson cried out beautifully. Fingers flexed on the sheets, weakly grabbing handfuls for something to hold on to. Low, muffled moans escaped his throat and grew louder as the waves of ecstasy coursing through him increased in intensity. The feel of his partner’s hot, moist mouth on his sensitive, throbbing member was indescribable; he could not remember a time, not even the time he and Doug had first slept together, when he had felt so aroused and overwhelmed with utter bliss. It was astonishing, the amount of pleasure cocooning him. His skin glistened with tiny beads of sweat; he was submerged in an ecstasy-filled inferno. If only his head were not so dizzy….
Remembering why he took so much medication in the first place, he suddenly felt incredibly ashamed. He was not supposed to be enjoying it. Doug was. He was there to merely serve a purpose for the other male. He knew he was not deserving of such delight, nor did he deserve to have someone as perfect as his partner touching him. Doug was supposed to be the one having all the fun.
Emitting a feeble sound of rapture and indignity, Tom climaxed within the confines of Doug’s mouth. Once the last of Tom’s seed had spilled onto his tongue, Doug pulled away to swallow and wipe his lips. He moved back up his friend’s slim body to stare at him directly with nothing but content and satisfaction in his eyes. The same could not be said for Tom’s, though the older officer could not see the turmoil in the brown orbs.
“Did that feel good?” he asked slyly.
Hanson nodded obediently, knowing it was the answer his friend wanted.
Leaning down to suckle on Hanson’s earlobe, he whispered, “Can I have you now?”
Another insecure nod.
Doug almost groaned with lust from the silent action. The wait was over, and he knew it would be well worth it; it was already turning out to be. From the nightstand drawer, he fished out a condom package and the bottle of lube. Tom watched with half-way opened eyes as Doug tore off the top of the packet and removed the protection. Things were growing visibly hazy, making him blink rapidly for numerous seconds to try and make it better. By the time his vision became a bit clearer, Doug was completely prepared and eager to go.
Having gone through it so many times in the past, Hanson knew exactly what to do in order to give his partner access to his body. He slid his legs farther apart and shoved a pillow under himself to raise his hips. His heart was beating fiercely from anticipation and uncertainty; Doug surely had to hear it.
Once Penhall was wholly inside of him, it was not long before everything started to turn fuzzy once more. The surroundings and Doug blurred together, and the older cop’s voice and breathing were nothing more than distant, incomprehensible noises. He could feel that his eyes were now wide open, but it did not help him to see any better. His skin was numb and his limbs were heavy; there was no way of telling what Penhall was doing with him now. He could not feel anything.
After what felt like an hour or so, he made out the figure above him moving to lie down beside him. There was a quiet echo in his ear as if someone was talking to him and light pressure on his arm as if someone had laid a hand on him.
Moments later, everything went black and silent.
****
Doug sighed as he flopped onto the sofa, rubbed his face, and closed his eyes. At first, he did not believe that Tom had passed out just seconds after he had finished the sexual act. It was normal for Tom to get drowsy and fall asleep easily after taking a dose of meds, but after shaking the limp being several times and calling his name, Doug was aware something was wrong. The young man’s breathing varied from shallow and raspy to long and labored. A cold sweat crept over his skin, making him shiver underneath the sheets and comforter that Doug covered him with. The older cop had no idea what could be causing his friend to act this way until he went to the kitchen for a glass of water. There, on the counter, the eight or so prescription bottles were all open with a number of pills scattered around them as if hastily dumped in order to easily handpick what and how many capsules suited the person’s fancy. Whatever combination the now unconscious man had chosen, it worked in warding off any pain and more.
Was he really so horrible that Tom had to swallow a dangerous mixture of pills to detach himself from the sex? Presently, he comprehended just how much he had been caught and swept up in his own lustful cravings and desires. He was barred from understanding what Hanson had truly wanted; the words and nods of approval Hanson gave were nothing but lies. The younger man had not wished to get as intimate as Penhall longed to be; the more Doug thought about it, the more he trusted the conclusion that Tom had been afraid to deny him, afraid of the consequences if he had said, “No”.
“Way to go,” Doug mumbled, angry at himself. “Shouldn’t have done it. Too soon. He’s not ready for that sort of thing, even if it is with me. Jesus, what was I thinking? Stupid, bad mistake.”
During the next twelve hours, he periodically went into the bedroom to check on Tom, who was still in a form of unconsciousness. As time ticked by, it seemed that the frail man had passed into a more tranquil state; the bouts of shuddering, sweating, and uneven breathing had gone away. Early on, Penhall had though about calling 911 for an ambulance, but instead, he settled for phoning the hospital to briefly explain the situation and ask if there should be any concern. The RN he talked to advised him to continue closely monitoring Hanson; if there was no improvement or he grew worse or he did not regain consciousness within the next few hours, then Doug should bring him to the emergency room. Deciding that Hanson had the slightest bit of improvement, Doug refrained from driving him downtown to the hospital. In any case, he was too preoccupied with his guilt and depression to get up and go anywhere other than to walk back and forth between the bedroom and living room.
****
The lamp on the nightstand was turned on, illuminating the otherwise dark room. The door was open, and he could see there were more lights turned on in the living room. Was someone with him? He could not remember; he could not remember a lot of things. When did the day change to night? When did he fall asleep? And why was he so tired?
Tom emitted a frustrated, weak moan and sat up slowly, using the headboard as a backrest. The bed linens felt strangely close to him, and he discovered why when he peered under the covers to find himself completely naked. Hurriedly, he put down the sheets and tucked it around him; no one was going to pull them off to expose him. He would make sure of it.
From the other room, he heard someone cough and clear their throat. Panic surged through him in an instant; he held his breath as the person came nearer. The moment he saw who it was, he let it out, relief rushing through him. Just Doug.
“Finally come around?” Doug asked as he shuffled to the bedside.
“What do you mean?”
“You were out for thirteen hours straight.”
Tom’s eyes dilated. “What? How?”
“You don’t….You don’t remember?”
“Guess not.”
“You took a bunch of pills then came back to bed so we….so we could….”
“Oh my god. We didn’t….We didn’t do it, did we?” His expression was one of alarm and anxiousness.
By the reaction, Doug figured out how he should answer. Tom had not wanted to do it, could not remember them doing it, and Doug was not about to remind him now; it was yet another thing best left unsaid. “No, no we didn’t,” he assured.
“Okay, good,” Tom muttered with a heavy sigh. “I mean,” he added quickly, “it’s not like….you know….I guess it wouldn’t be a bad thing….It’s….You’re good looking and all-”
Penhall smiled and held up a hand. “I got it. No worries. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, not too bad. Different, but not really a bad different.”
“Well, now that you’re up, do you want somethin’ to eat?”
“I don’t….I’m not….”
“Too bad. You’re eating, whether you like what I fix or not.”
There was no use arguing, for Penhall was gone in seconds, headed for the kitchen.
****
While Doug made whatever suited his taste buds, Tom got dressed in a pair of blue boxers, a white t-shirt, and the majorly over-sized hoodie he still had of Doug’s. It was extremely comfortable, warm, and familiar; his partner’s scent still lingered on the fabric, which he secretly loved to smell when alone. He grinned at the thought of doing so. It felt like such a childish thing to do - slightly perverse, even - but it brought him some sort of wonderful composure. This was something he would never admit to doing, of course, especially to Doug; the other man would probably think it funny and ridiculous. Not that that was wholly bad; he did love making his partner laugh.
A couple of minutes after putting on clothes, he hobbled out into the living room and plopped onto the couch. He had forgotten the television was essentially broken when he turned it on and was staring at static on the screen. Another movie would be fine, yet he was simply too exhausted to get up again to put in a tape. Oh well; a night of quiet would not be so bad, he reckoned - especially since he was not alone.
“Alright, here we go,” Doug announced a minute later as he strolled around to the front of the sofa. Setting down a plate and cup on the coffee table, he said pleasantly, “One over-easy egg and two buttered pieces of toast. Plus, a healthy glass of orange juice. I figured it’d be good to start off a bit light.”
Tom smiled and nodded. “Thanks. It looks good.”
“Dig in! I’m gonna go fix mine.”
Five minutes later Penhall returned with a plate of his own. He glanced at Tom, who was slowly picking at his food, and frowned. At least he was finally eating.
“You wanna watch anything?”
The younger man shrugged. “Yeah, okay. You can pick.”
“What’re ya in the mood for?”
“Doesn’t matter. Anything’s fine.”
Doug got up and knelt down by the TV to scour the movie titles on the shelf. The phone abruptly rang, making Hanson jump a little. The other cop turned his head to stare at his friend, and Hanson held up a finger. After he finished chewing the bite in his mouth, he stated, “I’ll get it. You keep looking.”
Doug plucked Lethal Weapon from the stack of VHS tapes and pushed it into the VCR. He gave a small chuckle from viewing the various cop movie titles; it would not surprise him if Tom used them for research on how to be a better officer and what not to do as a policeman. He took a seat on the couch, turned on the VCR, and let the previews run instead of fast forwarding. It was not long before Hanson came back to sit beside him, appearing unwell. His head was bowed and he did not say a word.
“Who was it?” Doug inquired after a number of seconds.
“Fuller,” was the sullen reply.
“What’d he have to say?”
“Gotta go to a meeting tomorrow. His office. I know what it’s for.”
“What’s it for?”
“My dismissal.”
Doug swallowed, not quite understanding what he had heard. Between the two of them, they both knew this sort of situation was most likely inevitable, but that was not to say either of them had lost hope for him to be back on the team. It did not seem real. “Your dismissal?”
“Yes.”
“Did he actually say that?”
“He didn’t have to. I could tell by his voice it wasn’t going to be good news.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean-”
“Doug….There’s nothing else it could be. I knew it was gonna happen. You knew. There’s just no way I could go back. I’m not fit for it anymore. It’s….it’s the best thing.”
The downplayed sorrow in his tone ate at Doug’s heart. Being a police officer was Tom’s life; it had been that way even before his father’s death. His dad had laid the path, and he had diligently followed. Now, it was blocked by an obstacle he could not get around. The misery and abundant grief written on his countenance said it all.
“I’m sorry, Tommy,” Doug uttered softly.
Tom nodded, sniffed, and lifted his head. He struggled to mask his despair, though was not particularly successful. “It’s okay. Let’s just, uh, watch the movie.”
All at once, Doug regretted his film pick. However, Tom did not seem to be paying any attention. His eyes stared at the screen, yet were not seeing anything. They were vacant and brimming with tears. Resting his hand on the younger man’s back, Doug began to rub it soothingly, noting how his friend tensed up instinctively.
For the length of the entire movie, nothing was said. Even after the credits were over, they stayed rather motionless and silent. Within an hour or so, Hanson fell asleep, and Doug did not feel the need to carry him to bed. Instead, he spread a blanket on top of the thin body and re-situated himself on the other couch to gaze at him. From his point of view, Tom looked like a boy stuck between being a child and being one of the teenagers he often posed as. There was a hint of innocence in his young face countered by tumultuous personal issues that start fully coming around when one enters those awkward years. His gentle, youthful appearance gave the impression that he had barely begun to experience life when in reality, he had gone through more than anyone should. At that moment, as he slept with his lips slightly parted and loose bangs hanging over his closed eyes, he looked absolutely pure and unsullied. Breathtaking. No signs of the agonizing pain Doug knew were there.
It was heartbreaking to realize this state of sheer peacefulness was not going to last. The meeting for dismissal was the tip of the iceberg Tom had been climbing; everything would soon be taking a downhill trip.
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Tom/Doug, Doug/OC, Tom/OC
Disclaimer: I don't own 21 Jumpstreet, nor it's characters. All belong to Callen and peeps.
Warnings: M/M, slash, angst, self-abuse, language, dub-con (?)
Summary: After having killed a teen, Doug tries to comfort his partner. Neither had any idea of the harsh consequences that were to come from Tom merely doing his job.
A/N: Exactly one month since the last update! It's okay, because I brought an ass load for this chapter. A hook up between these two; finally, right?! :p
Link to chapter 18: here
Chapter Nineteen
****
For a week, Tom was suspended in a realm all of his own. He barely moved. He hardly ate. He did not bathe. He unplugged the phone from the wall and did not answer the door. The majority of his time was spent watching the recorded footage of his torment and lying in a curled up bundle on the floor.
Once, his mother came by. She knocked and called his name, saying something about missing appointments. Tom desperately wanted to get up and see her, but there was nothing in him that could overcome his deep depression; all he could do was remain on the floor in a fetal position as he wept.
Doug was called by the hospital, due to him being listed as an emergency contact on Tom’s paperwork after Margaret Hanson, and questioned if he knew how to reach Tom. Having his attention brought to the situation of his partner’s mysterious disappearance, he traveled to Hanson’s apartment and knocked firmly on the door. So far, Hanson had missed two sessions with the psychiatrist and three physical therapy sessions. When there was no answer, he rapped on the wood again. No one came.
“Tom?” he called lightly, though loud enough for his partner to hear him from inside. “Tommy? It’s Doug. Are you there? Come answer the door. Please? A lot of people are worried about you.” He groped around the top part of the door frame, expecting to find the spare key there as usual. However, Tom must have taken it, for it was not there. “Please let me in.”
To his astonishment, the door opened the tiniest bit, just enough to leave it ajar. Doug waited for a minute or so before slowly pushing it open all the way to step inside. Hanson was nowhere near the entrance, though Doug soon spotted him crawling back to the far corner of the room where the computer desk was. Tom stopped when he reached the end of the bar and sat with his back against its base. Swiftly, Doug walked over to him and knelt beside him. His expression twisted into one of grave sympathy upon viewing the state his partner was in. Large, dark circles hung beneath Hanson’s eyes; his complexion was pale and his hair was a tangled, greasy mess. Dried blood adorned his arms and legs from the various wounds he had inflicted upon himself; the knife used to perform the procedures was resting two feet away from him on the ground, blade colored red. There were streaks on his face from where tears had fallen down his slightly dirtied cheeks, and to Doug’s surprise, it looked as if he had lost more weight, giving him a gaunt, hollowed appearance.
The younger man’s eyes were closed, prohibiting him from observing the immense sorrow and grief in the older cop’s expression. Doug did not know what to do. He had expected a breakdown from Tom, but not as severe as this.
Inhaling a shaky breath, Doug placed a gentle hand onto Tom’s good knee and whispered, “Hey buddy.”
There was no reply, not even the slightest movement.
Doug covered his mouth for a brief moment, trying to get a hold of himself; tears were already threatening to leak out. “Can you-” he cleared his throat and spoke again. “Can you look at me? I know you’re not asleep.”
About a minute passed before Hanson let his eyelids drift open. He kept his eyes downcast, prompting Doug to tenderly grip his chin to lift his head. Reluctantly, he met the older male’s affectionate gaze, and Doug had to swallow a gasp of alarm. Those expressive eyes - those beautiful, loveable, brown eyes - were so fraught with inconceivable amounts of agony, disgrace, neglect, and despair that Doug could barely take it. The way they stared at him, conveying such intense suffering and hopelessness, he felt as if a knife had gone straight to his heart.
“Why are you here?” Tom inquired indifferently, voice not much more than a hoarse whisper. Before Doug could answer, he went on. “Let me guess - you came here to beat the ever living shit out of me. Have some fun and fool around. Make me your own personal whore. Spit on me and condemn me to Hell. Am I right?”
“No,” Doug breathed, shaking his head. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
“What else am I supposed to think? Seems like that’s all I’m good for.”
“Have you been watching that stuff every day?”
“Does it matter?”
“Tom….” He took Tom’s face in his hands and let his thumbs softly rub the dampened cheeks. “You’re so much better than that….Can I make you something to eat? Looks like you haven’t eaten in weeks.”
“No. I’ve found a new diet I rather enjoy. Makes things just go away for awhile.”
Doug glanced behind the bar and to the kitchen. A number of empty liquor bottles lie scattered on the floor. “God, Tom, please don’t. I swear it doesn’t make things better.”
“I don’t care.”
“Tommy-”
“Please don’t start on me like that.”
“Okay, okay. You want me to at least help you to the bathroom to take a bath? I think it’ll do you good, relax you, make ya feel better.”
Tom shrugged, and Doug took it as a “yes.” He instructed Hanson to put his arms around his neck and unhurriedly, he picked the younger man up and carried him into the bedroom and through the door to the bathroom. It was very clear to see how exhausted Tom was; he did not make any sort of move to start undressing himself. He leaned against the sink as Doug turned on the water to fill the tub and then allowed his partner to begin removing his clothes. The water-protective sleeve was slipped on to cover his brace, and as they waited on the water, Doug hugged him close.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Penhall whispered into his ear. “I’m always here for you.”
Within a few minutes, the bathtub was two-thirds full with warm water. Hanson was aided into it by Penhall’s steady hands and lowered down. Right away, he bent his left knee and held it to his chest. He made no effort to begin bathing himself, and Doug chose to take on the task for him. After retrieving a clean washcloth, Penhall submerged it underwater for a couple of seconds and then held it above his friend’s head. He wrung it out, letting the clear liquid rain down on Tom’s disheveled hair. A relaxed sigh was the response; he could tell Tom enjoyed the feel of it. Gently, he massaged shampoo into the young man’s dark locks, observing the pleased facial expressions crossing Tom’s face as he did so.
“I really think you should start taking better care of yourself,” Doug stated quietly.
“I’m just not good enough for anything or anyone, am I?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He rinsed his hands off in the water, took the small plastic cup that was sitting on the sink and filled it with water, saying softly, “Tilt your head back.”
Tom did so and closed his eyes as well, while Doug put his hand against the younger man’s forehead to help prevent the shampoo from running onto his face. Four cups worth of water were poured onto the dark hair, and Doug brushed his fingers through it to ensure the shampoo was rinsed out thoroughly. Next was to wash Hanson’s body. He decided he would only do the man’s back, arms, and torso. After soaping up the washcloth, he rubbed it in circles against Hanson’s dorsal side, cringing a little at the sight of the male’s spine so easily discernible.
“Please, will you eat something after this if I make it for you?” Doug asked hopefully.
“Nothing sounds good.”
“I can whip up anything. I’ll even take you out to eat, if you want.”
“No thanks.”
Within a few minutes, Doug had finished what areas he knew were appropriate for him to wash and handed the cloth to Hanson.
“You can do your….down there….” he muttered awkwardly. He turned away to give his friend some privacy, while Tom cleaned his genitals. Once he was finished, Tom cleared his throat and hesitantly met Doug’s gaze.
“All done,” Tom voiced with a feigned smile.
“Ready to get out?”
“Yeah….sure.”
Doug pushed in the little metal handle to start draining the water and pulled Hanson up to stand. The young male cautiously stepped out of the tub and stood still as his partner dried him off. The plastic sleeve covering his brace was taken off, and a towel was wrapped around his waist before he was lead into the bedroom. He was suddenly cold and altogether tired, prompting him to lie down on the bed under the covers. Shivering slightly, he held the top of the sheets and comforter tightly under his chin, curled up on his side, closed his eyes, and sighed deeply. If he never had to leave his bed again, he would be immensely happy.
“Can I get you anything?”
Tom’s eyelids flitted open, and he stared at Doug groggily. “No thanks.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Meds?”
“I’m good.”
“Do you want me to stay for awhile?”
“If you want.”
“Tom….” Doug sat on the edge of the bed beside him and looked at him earnestly. “You know I love you, man. I just want to help. I know it’s bad now, but….it’ll get better, I swear.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“That’s what you have to keep telling yourself if you want to make it through all this. You have to believe it will.”
“Well, sorry if I don’t see it that way. All God has to do is let me die here in bed, and I’d be so happy; things would be better then.”
“There are a lot of people who would miss you. I guarantee that.”
A shrug. “They’ll have realized I was worthless sooner or later.”
“That’s not true.”
After a pause, Hanson inquired quietly, “What would you do?” The question was timid and worried; Doug could see it in his eyes.
“I’d miss you,” Doug answered softly. “I’d miss you a lot. You’re my best friend, Tommy. You’ve put up with everything I’ve done, whether it’s been immature or not. You’ve been there for me to talk me down when I almost do something stupid. You’ve been there to listen to me, or be my drinking buddy at night after a tough day. I don’t have any immediate family; and I don’t have any other friends that I can open up to like I can with you. You’re….You’re the most important person in my life, Tom. I don’t want to lose you….I can’t lose you.”
Doug was taken aback to discover he had begun to cry. He looked at Tom sheepishly, but hurriedly felt comfortable once again upon seeing Tom’s face dampened with tears. With arms extended, Hanson whispered, “Come here,” and spread his legs farther apart. Penhall could not resist the gesture whatsoever; he lied in between the younger man’s legs and rested his head near the crook of Tom’s neck. Fingers were soon stroking his hair lovingly, making him let out a comforted sigh. Hanson closed his eyes and leaned his head against his partner’s. He could not remember a time when Doug Penhall had ever cried. It just did not happen. But now….he realized just how much he was hurting him.
Another example of what a disappointment he was to others. Another testament to what he was not good enough for: being a friend.
“Doug, I….” he started, unsure of what he wanted, or should, say. “I’m sorry. But what do I do? I can’t….I can’t handle it. I don’t want to live with all of this anymore.”
“I know it’s hard for you now; I know that. And I won’t say I understand what you’re going through, because I don’t. But I want to help you as much as I possibly can, if you’ll let me.”
“Come on,” Tom said with a light laugh. “Tell the truth. You do not. You’ve got better things to do; I know that.”
Doug lifted his head to gaze directly into his friend’s eyes; there was no trace of a lie. “Nothing I have to do is better than you. I mean it. I….I try to take care of you because I want to. And to make up for failing you.”
“Failing me? What are you talking about?”
“I completely failed you. I couldn’t find you before things got so bad. I didn’t save you from those fucking creeps. All I could do was watch them violate you and hurt you. I can’t forgive myself for that, and I don’t expect you to either.”
“Don’t say that,” Tom scolded gently as he tucked a few strands of Doug’s hair behind his ear. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I told you not to come after me. I had given up on being found pretty early on. I didn’t deserve to be found anyway. This….This whole thing is my fault.”
“How do you figure?”
“I killed Tanner. Punishment had to be comin’ sometime, and it did.”
“Tom….I thought you had gotten past that. We talked about it that night before you disappeared. It had to be done. There wasn’t any other way.”
“I hear you, but….I….no.”
“Tom-”
“Let’s just….stop talking about it, okay? I’m really tired.”
“Okay. You want me to go out into the other room?” he asked as he sat up and away from Tom.
“No, you can stay.”
Doug grinned cheerfully, which made Tom smile as well, and shifted to the other half of the bed to lie beside his partner. After kicking off his shoes, he slipped his legs under the covers and nestled back against the two pillows on his side of the bed. When Tom moved to rest on his side to face him, the older man did the same, and the two of them smiled at one another. The shy giddiness in Hanson’s eyes and the fact that he was ultimately naked beneath the clean sheets sent streams of arousal through Doug’s anatomy.
He had no idea he was simply staring at Tom - quite lustfully, in fact - until the younger man quirked a quizzical eyebrow and asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah….of course,” he replied faintly.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay….Maybe I should take off this towel, stop getting the sheets all wet,” he added quietly.
“Yes, yes, you should,” Doug said rather quickly. There was no denying it now; he was losing his self-control. Being in such close proximity to the person he was beyond attracted to for so long and not being able to touch him in the ways in which he yearned to was finally catching up with him.
Hanson un-tucked the front and tried to pull it from under himself, but was not strong enough. “Can you?” he questioned and handed his partner the free end of the towel.
The fabric was swept out from beneath him in one speedy movement and tossed onto the floor. “There. Better?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Tom, can I….Would you….”
“What?”
“I….I want to kiss you,” he admitted reluctantly. It was a rather toned down confession of what he truly longed to do.
“Kiss me? Why?”
“Well….I mean, we could finish what we started that one night last week.”
“What night?”
“Remember? We watched the Dalmatian movie and afterward, we came in here and you kissed me, things heated up, but we stopped before anything really happened.”
Hanson frowned and shook his head. “I guess I don’t. To be honest, I can barely remember back to the start of this week. Why would you want to touch me anyway? You saw everything they did to me.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I want you.”
“Doug….come on. You know what happened the last time we….well, when we….fooled around and did it.”
“And I’ve been wanting to do it again ever since.”
“I….can’t, Doug. I’m sorry.”
“How can you have sex with some random cab driver but not me?”
The question was not spoken in a bitter context, yet the deep insult it caused Hanson was very clear.
“Tom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I-”
“Don’t worry. I get it,” he muttered dejectedly. “Sorry. You’re right. It doesn’t make sense, huh?”
Before Doug could say anything else, Hanson was kissing him fervently. Whatever doubts or hesitations Penhall had formed during their short conversation were suddenly gone. He pulled Tom’s thin body flush against his and ran his hand up and down the smaller man’s back while continuing to kiss him ardently. Feeling Tom’s bare skin in this fashion was intoxicating; he would caress every inch of his partner’s body by the time they were done.
A couple of minutes passed before Tom broke away from Doug’s lips and stared at him coyly. There was trepidation in his dilated eyes, and what he murmured was different than what Penhall was expecting.
“I’ll be right back. Gonna take some meds before we go any further so I don’t get a sudden headache, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sounds good. Go for it.”
Tom gave a chaste smile and then got up from the bed. Grabbing his crutches, he started for the kitchen; Doug’s eyes ravenously drank in the sight of Hanson’s nude backside as the young male went out of the room. With a heavy sigh and excited grin, Penhall began shedding his clothing. Every piece was soon disposed of on the floor. He moved to Hanson’s side of the bed to open the top drawer of the nightstand, checking to make sure the items he would need were there. There was a tube of lubrication rolled all the way up, indicating it was pretty much empty; another small, just opened bottle of lube; and numerous packages of condoms scattered about. Just looking at the contents of the drawer and envisioning what they would soon be used for made his hardened member jump slightly.
At last.
****
Tom opened the refrigerator to retrieve a water bottle, shut the door, and then leaned back against it. Exhaling a deep breath, he closed his eyes and silently considered what he was about to do in the other room. It baffled him, the fact that Doug wished to have him. It did not make any sense; Penhall had seen just how defiled he had become, how worthless and pathetic he was. Why would someone like Doug Penhall, or anyone for that matter, have any sort of desire to make contact with such spoiled territory?
“Oh god….Why are you doing this, Tom?” he breathed dismally. “How can you go through with it? He doesn’t want you for anything other than this. You’re stupid to think he’d ever want something more. You don’t deserve him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
With another sigh, he took the few steps needed to reach the kitchen counter beneath the cabinets where the myriad of prescription drug bottles were. The area was like a private pharmacy. There were at least ten different medications present. Anxiety was building fast, causing him to take out a valium and a Prozac. For any discomfort that may result from either his injuries or from Doug, he swallowed down three eight-hundred milligram ibuprofen capsules and a lower-tab. Tired eyes swept over the labels on the pill bottles and continued to stare at them as he contemplated what to do. After a minute or so, he twisted off the caps of all the containers and took a single tablet from each one. Already, he was beginning to feel light headed and a little disoriented, though he found these effects to be mostly pleasant. His limbs started to feel heavier, and he was growing increasingly sleepy; nevertheless, he made for the bedroom at a leisurely pace, a lop-sided grin plastered on his face.
“Hey,” he greeted quietly as he entered and met Doug’s famished gaze.
“Hey,” was the almost inaudible reply. By now, there was no use hiding how aroused he was. Tom was still flaccid, but that would be remedied in a short time.
“So, um….” Hanson set down his crutches, crept onto the bed, and traced his hand along the side of his partner’s face. “How do we, uh, go about it?”
“Like this.”
Doug captured the younger man’s lips with his own, drawing him into a lengthy, passionate kiss while his hands simultaneously inched along Tom’s body. With lips so soft and full and vocals so enchanting like a melody, Doug believed his friend could quite possibly be an angel. Just for him. All for him. As his fingers discovered the other male’s cock, he grew envious and angry at the notion of anyone else having Hanson the way he was currently experiencing the man’s body. Hanson was his, had always been his - whether as a best friend, pretend brother, or a one-time lover.
With slow maneuvering, Penhall pushed Tom onto his back and followed to hover above him. He nestled himself between the smaller male’s spread legs and started forging a trail of kisses along his skin, beginning at Tom’s forehead. The feeling of Doug’s lips on his face was soft; only when the older cop ventured downward and reached his neck did the kisses become more rough and fiery. Teeth occasionally grazed his skin, causing him to close his eyes in pleasure. The way Doug nibbled on his neck made his toes curl and his back arch upward off the bed a little. He was sure he would enjoy it more if only his head were not so clouded from medication.
There was no rush, and Doug planned on taking his time in having Hanson. So far, all seemed well. The younger man was responding nicely to every one of his caresses, hickeys, and licks; a trembling whimper was a sign to continue on, and Penhall complied whole-heartedly.
Letting his eyes flicker up to gaze at Tom’s face, Doug looked for the approval that he knew was there. Hanson appeared to be somewhat out of it, but not for the reason Penhall believed. Gingerly, he circled the head of Hanson’s cock with his talented tongue and then proceeded to cover the whole shaft with his mouth. Hanson cried out beautifully. Fingers flexed on the sheets, weakly grabbing handfuls for something to hold on to. Low, muffled moans escaped his throat and grew louder as the waves of ecstasy coursing through him increased in intensity. The feel of his partner’s hot, moist mouth on his sensitive, throbbing member was indescribable; he could not remember a time, not even the time he and Doug had first slept together, when he had felt so aroused and overwhelmed with utter bliss. It was astonishing, the amount of pleasure cocooning him. His skin glistened with tiny beads of sweat; he was submerged in an ecstasy-filled inferno. If only his head were not so dizzy….
Remembering why he took so much medication in the first place, he suddenly felt incredibly ashamed. He was not supposed to be enjoying it. Doug was. He was there to merely serve a purpose for the other male. He knew he was not deserving of such delight, nor did he deserve to have someone as perfect as his partner touching him. Doug was supposed to be the one having all the fun.
Emitting a feeble sound of rapture and indignity, Tom climaxed within the confines of Doug’s mouth. Once the last of Tom’s seed had spilled onto his tongue, Doug pulled away to swallow and wipe his lips. He moved back up his friend’s slim body to stare at him directly with nothing but content and satisfaction in his eyes. The same could not be said for Tom’s, though the older officer could not see the turmoil in the brown orbs.
“Did that feel good?” he asked slyly.
Hanson nodded obediently, knowing it was the answer his friend wanted.
Leaning down to suckle on Hanson’s earlobe, he whispered, “Can I have you now?”
Another insecure nod.
Doug almost groaned with lust from the silent action. The wait was over, and he knew it would be well worth it; it was already turning out to be. From the nightstand drawer, he fished out a condom package and the bottle of lube. Tom watched with half-way opened eyes as Doug tore off the top of the packet and removed the protection. Things were growing visibly hazy, making him blink rapidly for numerous seconds to try and make it better. By the time his vision became a bit clearer, Doug was completely prepared and eager to go.
Having gone through it so many times in the past, Hanson knew exactly what to do in order to give his partner access to his body. He slid his legs farther apart and shoved a pillow under himself to raise his hips. His heart was beating fiercely from anticipation and uncertainty; Doug surely had to hear it.
Once Penhall was wholly inside of him, it was not long before everything started to turn fuzzy once more. The surroundings and Doug blurred together, and the older cop’s voice and breathing were nothing more than distant, incomprehensible noises. He could feel that his eyes were now wide open, but it did not help him to see any better. His skin was numb and his limbs were heavy; there was no way of telling what Penhall was doing with him now. He could not feel anything.
After what felt like an hour or so, he made out the figure above him moving to lie down beside him. There was a quiet echo in his ear as if someone was talking to him and light pressure on his arm as if someone had laid a hand on him.
Moments later, everything went black and silent.
****
Doug sighed as he flopped onto the sofa, rubbed his face, and closed his eyes. At first, he did not believe that Tom had passed out just seconds after he had finished the sexual act. It was normal for Tom to get drowsy and fall asleep easily after taking a dose of meds, but after shaking the limp being several times and calling his name, Doug was aware something was wrong. The young man’s breathing varied from shallow and raspy to long and labored. A cold sweat crept over his skin, making him shiver underneath the sheets and comforter that Doug covered him with. The older cop had no idea what could be causing his friend to act this way until he went to the kitchen for a glass of water. There, on the counter, the eight or so prescription bottles were all open with a number of pills scattered around them as if hastily dumped in order to easily handpick what and how many capsules suited the person’s fancy. Whatever combination the now unconscious man had chosen, it worked in warding off any pain and more.
Was he really so horrible that Tom had to swallow a dangerous mixture of pills to detach himself from the sex? Presently, he comprehended just how much he had been caught and swept up in his own lustful cravings and desires. He was barred from understanding what Hanson had truly wanted; the words and nods of approval Hanson gave were nothing but lies. The younger man had not wished to get as intimate as Penhall longed to be; the more Doug thought about it, the more he trusted the conclusion that Tom had been afraid to deny him, afraid of the consequences if he had said, “No”.
“Way to go,” Doug mumbled, angry at himself. “Shouldn’t have done it. Too soon. He’s not ready for that sort of thing, even if it is with me. Jesus, what was I thinking? Stupid, bad mistake.”
During the next twelve hours, he periodically went into the bedroom to check on Tom, who was still in a form of unconsciousness. As time ticked by, it seemed that the frail man had passed into a more tranquil state; the bouts of shuddering, sweating, and uneven breathing had gone away. Early on, Penhall had though about calling 911 for an ambulance, but instead, he settled for phoning the hospital to briefly explain the situation and ask if there should be any concern. The RN he talked to advised him to continue closely monitoring Hanson; if there was no improvement or he grew worse or he did not regain consciousness within the next few hours, then Doug should bring him to the emergency room. Deciding that Hanson had the slightest bit of improvement, Doug refrained from driving him downtown to the hospital. In any case, he was too preoccupied with his guilt and depression to get up and go anywhere other than to walk back and forth between the bedroom and living room.
****
The lamp on the nightstand was turned on, illuminating the otherwise dark room. The door was open, and he could see there were more lights turned on in the living room. Was someone with him? He could not remember; he could not remember a lot of things. When did the day change to night? When did he fall asleep? And why was he so tired?
Tom emitted a frustrated, weak moan and sat up slowly, using the headboard as a backrest. The bed linens felt strangely close to him, and he discovered why when he peered under the covers to find himself completely naked. Hurriedly, he put down the sheets and tucked it around him; no one was going to pull them off to expose him. He would make sure of it.
From the other room, he heard someone cough and clear their throat. Panic surged through him in an instant; he held his breath as the person came nearer. The moment he saw who it was, he let it out, relief rushing through him. Just Doug.
“Finally come around?” Doug asked as he shuffled to the bedside.
“What do you mean?”
“You were out for thirteen hours straight.”
Tom’s eyes dilated. “What? How?”
“You don’t….You don’t remember?”
“Guess not.”
“You took a bunch of pills then came back to bed so we….so we could….”
“Oh my god. We didn’t….We didn’t do it, did we?” His expression was one of alarm and anxiousness.
By the reaction, Doug figured out how he should answer. Tom had not wanted to do it, could not remember them doing it, and Doug was not about to remind him now; it was yet another thing best left unsaid. “No, no we didn’t,” he assured.
“Okay, good,” Tom muttered with a heavy sigh. “I mean,” he added quickly, “it’s not like….you know….I guess it wouldn’t be a bad thing….It’s….You’re good looking and all-”
Penhall smiled and held up a hand. “I got it. No worries. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, not too bad. Different, but not really a bad different.”
“Well, now that you’re up, do you want somethin’ to eat?”
“I don’t….I’m not….”
“Too bad. You’re eating, whether you like what I fix or not.”
There was no use arguing, for Penhall was gone in seconds, headed for the kitchen.
****
While Doug made whatever suited his taste buds, Tom got dressed in a pair of blue boxers, a white t-shirt, and the majorly over-sized hoodie he still had of Doug’s. It was extremely comfortable, warm, and familiar; his partner’s scent still lingered on the fabric, which he secretly loved to smell when alone. He grinned at the thought of doing so. It felt like such a childish thing to do - slightly perverse, even - but it brought him some sort of wonderful composure. This was something he would never admit to doing, of course, especially to Doug; the other man would probably think it funny and ridiculous. Not that that was wholly bad; he did love making his partner laugh.
A couple of minutes after putting on clothes, he hobbled out into the living room and plopped onto the couch. He had forgotten the television was essentially broken when he turned it on and was staring at static on the screen. Another movie would be fine, yet he was simply too exhausted to get up again to put in a tape. Oh well; a night of quiet would not be so bad, he reckoned - especially since he was not alone.
“Alright, here we go,” Doug announced a minute later as he strolled around to the front of the sofa. Setting down a plate and cup on the coffee table, he said pleasantly, “One over-easy egg and two buttered pieces of toast. Plus, a healthy glass of orange juice. I figured it’d be good to start off a bit light.”
Tom smiled and nodded. “Thanks. It looks good.”
“Dig in! I’m gonna go fix mine.”
Five minutes later Penhall returned with a plate of his own. He glanced at Tom, who was slowly picking at his food, and frowned. At least he was finally eating.
“You wanna watch anything?”
The younger man shrugged. “Yeah, okay. You can pick.”
“What’re ya in the mood for?”
“Doesn’t matter. Anything’s fine.”
Doug got up and knelt down by the TV to scour the movie titles on the shelf. The phone abruptly rang, making Hanson jump a little. The other cop turned his head to stare at his friend, and Hanson held up a finger. After he finished chewing the bite in his mouth, he stated, “I’ll get it. You keep looking.”
Doug plucked Lethal Weapon from the stack of VHS tapes and pushed it into the VCR. He gave a small chuckle from viewing the various cop movie titles; it would not surprise him if Tom used them for research on how to be a better officer and what not to do as a policeman. He took a seat on the couch, turned on the VCR, and let the previews run instead of fast forwarding. It was not long before Hanson came back to sit beside him, appearing unwell. His head was bowed and he did not say a word.
“Who was it?” Doug inquired after a number of seconds.
“Fuller,” was the sullen reply.
“What’d he have to say?”
“Gotta go to a meeting tomorrow. His office. I know what it’s for.”
“What’s it for?”
“My dismissal.”
Doug swallowed, not quite understanding what he had heard. Between the two of them, they both knew this sort of situation was most likely inevitable, but that was not to say either of them had lost hope for him to be back on the team. It did not seem real. “Your dismissal?”
“Yes.”
“Did he actually say that?”
“He didn’t have to. I could tell by his voice it wasn’t going to be good news.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean-”
“Doug….There’s nothing else it could be. I knew it was gonna happen. You knew. There’s just no way I could go back. I’m not fit for it anymore. It’s….it’s the best thing.”
The downplayed sorrow in his tone ate at Doug’s heart. Being a police officer was Tom’s life; it had been that way even before his father’s death. His dad had laid the path, and he had diligently followed. Now, it was blocked by an obstacle he could not get around. The misery and abundant grief written on his countenance said it all.
“I’m sorry, Tommy,” Doug uttered softly.
Tom nodded, sniffed, and lifted his head. He struggled to mask his despair, though was not particularly successful. “It’s okay. Let’s just, uh, watch the movie.”
All at once, Doug regretted his film pick. However, Tom did not seem to be paying any attention. His eyes stared at the screen, yet were not seeing anything. They were vacant and brimming with tears. Resting his hand on the younger man’s back, Doug began to rub it soothingly, noting how his friend tensed up instinctively.
For the length of the entire movie, nothing was said. Even after the credits were over, they stayed rather motionless and silent. Within an hour or so, Hanson fell asleep, and Doug did not feel the need to carry him to bed. Instead, he spread a blanket on top of the thin body and re-situated himself on the other couch to gaze at him. From his point of view, Tom looked like a boy stuck between being a child and being one of the teenagers he often posed as. There was a hint of innocence in his young face countered by tumultuous personal issues that start fully coming around when one enters those awkward years. His gentle, youthful appearance gave the impression that he had barely begun to experience life when in reality, he had gone through more than anyone should. At that moment, as he slept with his lips slightly parted and loose bangs hanging over his closed eyes, he looked absolutely pure and unsullied. Breathtaking. No signs of the agonizing pain Doug knew were there.
It was heartbreaking to realize this state of sheer peacefulness was not going to last. The meeting for dismissal was the tip of the iceberg Tom had been climbing; everything would soon be taking a downhill trip.