Warning: Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

A Note: One, I'm going to ask if y'all would be interested in reading a prequel to this, showing how Hanson and Booker got together. You folks kinda got thrown into the middle of their relationship with this and I'm curious if you'd want to read how it started. I probably wouldn't write it until after I finish this fic, which still has quite a while to go. Anyway, let me know. Two, I'm going to shameless plug my Hoffs/Hanson short story 2 am (in my profile) :-P

daizia - I admit, part of my attention to detail is liking to make the characters suffer. Mwahahaha. :-P Real damage, huh? Would I do that? >whistles> Joanne, yeah, she's a little... I suppose 'strange' works. Glad you liked the little spat they had; I just have to throw that stuff in from time to time. After all, 21JS was a drama, but it had its comedic moments ;-)

Nina - Hopefully I'll get you more hooked as I go along :-P As for Joanne and Greene, well, you've got a few chapters to go on that, but a lot is written so updates should be regular. Oh, and I liked that last line as well. :-)

Rosepetal - I liked it too. I'm trying to make them seem like they really care about each other without making them seem girly :-P It's harder than I thought it would be >mutters> I'm having fun with Judy; someone's gotta be happy for Hanson and Booker.

Chapter 8

"How you really feeling, babe?"

Hanson looked up to see Dennis looking down at him. "Huh?"

"You're still coughing."

Tom moved aside to allow Booker space on the couch, then turned sideways and leaned back, resting his head on Dennis's leg. "I'm fine. Really. Throat hurts a little, but I really don't think it's worth the mountain of paperwork that a trip to the doctor…" he trailed off and glanced at his watch, "ER, at this hour, would cost me to run it through as a worker's comp claim, which is what my insurance would make me do."

"If you're sure." Dennis wasn't convinced.

"I am." Hanson raised the magazine he was reading so he could see it in his now reclining position, then gave up and lowered it, tossing it on the table and watching it slide off onto the floor. He returned his eyes to his boyfriend's face and saw the other man hesitate before looking down at him.

"Problem?"

"You look like you got one." Dennis quirked an eyebrow at him but didn't respond. "Out with it, babe." For some reason, Booker loved to use the term to refer to him, but when Hanson used it he usually earned himself a glare. Not so now. His lover just glanced away. Hanson pulled himself up and turned around, drawing his legs up onto the couch and folding them in front of him. "What gives, man?"

"What's the deal with this girl, Tom?"

"What girl?" Even as he asked, though, it occurred to him what Dennis was talking about. "That chick Joanne? Don't tell me what Hoffs said actually got to you?"

"Well… yeah, a little, I guess," Booker admitted, and Hanson thought he saw him flush. "I don't know; I know it's stupid. I just…"

"It's nothing, babe. She's a stuck-up blonde cheerleader – you know the type, thinks the whole damn world is at her beck and call. It's nothing."

"The way you were arguing—"

"It was 'cause Ioki and Jude put me on the spot with her – more Ioki than Jude, actually." He shook his head. "He's been actin' weird lately."

"You noticed it too, huh? You think…" Booker hesitated.

"Yeah." Tom reached for Dennis's beer, sitting on the corner of the table. He took a long sip and then handed it to his boyfriend, waiting as he finished it before he spoke again. "Hoffs seems okay, but Harry…"

"Penhall either," Dennis said quietly.

Hanson shot him a look. "He say something to you?"

"Nah." The look in his eyes told Tom he was lying, but he decided not to pursue it. "It's sort of the way he looks at me. Like with this guy Greene, it's like he thinks I'd be interested in whatever the creep's giving out."

"Doug doesn't think that, man."

"Don't bet on it, Tom. Penhall's hated me from day one, and now it's like he thinks that I'm the reason you're gay or something, like if I wasn't in the picture, everything'd be back to normal."

"Penhall's… he's weird, Dennis."

"Don't make excuses for him, Tom."

"I'm not making excuses for him. I'm just… I don't know. He's a good guy, but you're right, he never liked you and this is just throwing him for a trip. He'll come around."

"I'm not so sure." Booker shrugged uncomfortably. "I just don't think, of all cases, that it's a good idea for me and him to be working together."

"If it's really going to cause a problem, tell Fuller. He'll figure something out." He paused. "He'll understand. He said to talk to him if there was a problem."

"Oh, yeah. I'll just go in and say, 'Yeah, Captain, me and Penhall just don't play nice together. Can you make him stand in the corner?'" Dennis rolled his eyes. "You remember that case we were on, the football coach?"

Tom groaned. "How could I forget? Penhall was pissed about losing that; I don't think he'll ever respect Davis again."

"Did he ever?"

"Point."

"Anyway… it wasn't until the end, when he got hurt, he even saw what was going on. The whole time, it was like he was living a fantasy – and he tried more than once to kick my ass as part of it. He wouldn't listen to a word I said." He shrugged. "Feels like it's the same thing, same situation… only worse."

"Worse how?"

"It's like… today, when Harry said that about Adler maybe seeing me as competition?" He spat out the word and Tom was a little surprised at the venom in his voice. "Penhall said, 'Rightfully so' or something like that. Every time he so much as looks in my direction it's like he thinks I'm as bad as Greene."

"You know he doesn't."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do." Hanson sighed and tilted his head to the side before confessing, "I'm tired of talking about Penhall." He uncrossed his legs and moved to straddle Dennis, kneeling with one leg on each side of his lover's slim hips. "I'm tired of talking at all," he murmured into his ear.

"Mmm," was Booker's reply as he tilted his chin up, searching out Hanson's lips. "You taste like beer."

"So do you. But that's okay." Tom moved his hands from Dennis's shoulders down his chest to his waist, tugging at the bottom of his shirt, wanting to run his fingers over bare skin. Leaving the t-shirt on for the moment, he reveled just in the sound of his lover's slightly labored breathing for a second or two before growing impatient and deciding he wanted it off.

His boyfriend raised his arms, allowing Hanson to pull his shirt over his head. Dennis's hands returned to Tom's sides, while Tom's went back to Booker's chest. He leaned down, eyes closing, enjoying their current position because it put him up higher than Dennis for once, and captured his lover's lips with his own. The other man's mouth opened willingly and Tom's tongue warred with Booker's. For a split second he opened his eyes and saw Dennis staring back at him before the closed once more against the haze of intensity.

He heard his boyfriend moan as he slid his hands around his back, pressing his hips forward against his Dennis's. "God, Tom, you make a great distraction."

"Good," he whispered. He kissed down Booker's chin to his throat, ran his tongue along his lover's collarbone, feeling the man squirm underneath him, grinding their hips together. "You're not so bad yourself."

He felt Dennis's hands move to his chest and pulled back just a bit to allow him to unbutton his shirt. His boyfriend took his time, slowly moving down before slipping it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Hanson leaned back more, circling his arms around Booker and clasping his hands behind his neck as Dennis ran first nimble fingers then warm, wet, tongue across his throat and down his chest, sucking and biting playfully.

Feeling a little overwhelmed as heat spread throughout his body, he unclasped his hand, kept one where it was for the sake of not falling backward – not that he thought Dennis would let him fall, but with his luck… – he reached a hand down to stroke his lover through his jeans. Booker's arms went around him, pulling him close, and their lips met once more before Dennis whispered, "As much as I like this couch, I think the bed would be more suitable."

"I concur. Wholeheartedly." He leaned back, climbing off and standing up, surprised at how wooden his legs felt. Only by the grace of his boyfriend's quick thinking did he not end up falling backward over the coffee table. "See the effect you have on me?"

Booker's eyes strayed from Tom's face to an area much lower on his body – and not his legs. "I do."

"Not what I meant."

"I know."

-------------------------

Tom paused in the doorway to his last class and groaned inwardly. The one empty seat in the room just had to be next to Joanne. Maybe God really didn't like gays and Joanne was His way of punishing him. He slid into the chair, opening a notebook and taking a deep breath before looking over at her with as flirtatious a smile as he could manage. Behind the girl, he could see Judy struggling not to laugh at him. "Hey."

"Hey." She bit her lip and smiled in return, making Hanson cringe inwardly. "I'm having a party tomorrow night. All the cheerleaders are going to be there, and most of the football team too. My folks are going out of town; the party's pretty much going to last all weekend." She paused. "We have an indoor pool, so bring your bathing suit." Then she licked her lips. "Or don't."

Behind her, Tom saw Hoffs choke and stifled a glare. She was dead the second they got back to the chapel. He was going to kill her, and Ioki too, and enjoy it. Immensely. What the hell had he done to them to deserve this?

"Ms. Douglas, do you need a drink?" their – Hanson glanced at his schedule – calculus teacher asked. Funny, he didn't remember sitting through calculus yesterday; maybe his mind had blocked it out.

As Judy told the instructor she was fine, Tom decided he wouldn't turn one down, though what he had in mind probably wasn't what the teacher had been thinking of. He wasn't sure what was worse – Joanne or calculus. The combination had to be fatal. He slouched down in his chair, kept his eyes fixed on the board, and didn't look at anyone for the rest of the class, spending it instead trying to figure out how not to lose his mind over the course of this party.

Two days, trapped in a house with Joanne Crisal. If he survived it, chances were by the end of the weekend, he'd at least have an idea what was going on – if not have solved it. She knew something about her sister's death, he was positive. He just needed to convince Ioki, get him to work on Greg and find out what the deal was with Joanne.

Of course, in order to do that, he needed to get Ioki actually talking to him. The man hadn't said two words to him outside of work since he and Booker had come out, and it was starting to get to him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, belatedly realizing that class was over and Joanne was staring at him. "Hey, there, Tommy," she said with a grin. "Come on, school's over. I thought we could grab something to eat, maybe go back to my place?" As he rose, she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Hanson stalled as they left the classroom. "I, uh, I don't know. I mean, I'm kind of behind in everything, coming into school so late; I've got a lot of work to do to catch up." He stopped by his locker, opening it, and looked over at her.

Before he could do anything, she'd pressed him up against the locker, her lips on his. His eyes went wide and, too stunned to pull away at first, they fluttered closed and he returned the kiss. Instinctively, his arm circled her waist and he tilted his head down toward hers. Then abruptly, he broke it off and, for the sake of keeping his cover and his composure intact, he rested his forehead against hers. "I'll see you tomorrow." He planted one more very chaste kiss on her lips, then turned back to his locker, grabbed the last book he needed, then closed it and walked away.

-------------------------

"How was school?"

Dennis glanced up, frowning at the inflection in Hanson's voice. "It was okay."

"Greene do anything else?"

"He didn't do anything. Wouldn't stop staring at me, though; yesterday, I felt like he was trying to drill through me with his eyes, and today, every time I looked up during the quiz he was either looking at me or at Adler."

"You're really sure he screwed around with Adler?"

"Yeah." He paused. "There's no way that whole 'competition' angle Harry came up with is right. If this kid wanted Greene, he'd have him, hands down. I've seen that look before, man."

Tom raised an eyebrow as he bit into a piece of garlic bread. "Yeah? Where?"

Dennis shrugged uncomfortably. "Just, you know…" He trailed off and shook his head, trying to clear it. "You ever caught somebody staring at you in a bar or something, and ended up going home with them that night?"

Hanson's eyes narrowed but, after a moment, he grinned. "Yeah. You."

Booker frowned, then shrugged again. "Well, anyway, you know what I'm talking about."

His boyfriend set his food down and watched him for a second. "This guy really freaks you out, huh?"

At his words, Dennis felt a little chill run down his spine. He took a sip from his beer bottle, put it down, then took another drink and set it down once more before he answered. "Yeah. I don't know what it is." Well, it wasn't completely a lie.

"You think he's gonna try something with you?"

"Yeah." Dennis looked down, drumming his fingers over the table. "Something about the whole thing bothers me, and I don't know why." Another half-truth. "How far do you think I need to let him go before I arrest him?"

He could see the concern in Tom's eyes. "You heard Fuller; even the guy putting his hands on you is probably enough. If this is really bothering you, and you're positive this kid is on the level, tell Coach that. He'll pull you out; it didn't look like he was too thrilled having you in there in the first place."

"Penhall'd love that."

"Screw Penhall."

"No thanks." Booker made a face. "I can handle it."

Hanson reached across the table, and Dennis let him take his hand. "There something you aren't telling me?"

He looked toward the TV, toward his food, toward the ceiling – anywhere but at his boyfriend – for a long moment while he tried to decide how to answer. "Yeah."

"Something about the case?"

"Sorta. Not really."

"You sure you can handle it?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me sometime?"

"Yeah."

"Want to jump off a bridge?"

"Ye—huh?"

"Just checking if you were listening." Hanson grinned at him, and Dennis squeezed his hand lightly, using his other to continue eating.

After a few minutes of fairly comfortable silence, Booker remembered that something had seemed strange when Tom asked him about his day. "How's your case?"

Bingo. Tom got a sort of deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. "It… uh, it looks like I'm not going to be home Friday or Saturday night. Joanne," the tone in his voice made his distaste for the girl obvious, "is having a party."

"All weekend?"

"All weekend."

"They didn't have parties like that when I was in high school."

"Me either."

"That's not all that's bothering you, is it, Tommy?"

That look was back on his boyfriend's face. "Don't call me that!"

Dennis started; he knew Tom hated the nickname – it was why he used it. But he didn't usually react like that. "What's wrong?"

"I… Joanne kissed me."

"So?" Not that the idea of his lover kissing somebody else thrilled him, but sometimes it was part of the job. Hanson was in there to play up to the girl, and sometimes things went beyond the purely plutonic stage. It didn't make sense for Tom to be getting this worked up over it.

"So…" Tom released him and stood up, running his now-free hand through his hair. "Let's just say she's made her… intentions clear."

"What intentions?"

"She told me her parents have an indoor pool, and to bring my swimsuit – or don't. Then, after class, she kissed me, and it wasn't exactly a peck on the cheek."

"What are you freaking out about? There's no way you haven't had a girl come onto you on the job before."

"Not like that! I'm gonna be at her house for two days, Dennis; how do I…?"

"Avoid sleeping with her?" Booker snickered. "You got it easy; you got a whole day to come up with an excuse. It could be worse; she could've sprung it on you tomorrow night after you had a couple beers."

Hanson glared at him, and for a moment he felt kind of bad. "You aren't helping."

"What do you want me to do? It's part of the job; I don't know why you're so on edge." He shrugged. "Tell her you're Catholic and you don't believe in sex before marriage. Guarantee you she'll spend the entire weekend trying to change your mind. In the meantime, you see what you can get out of her."

Tom frowned at him. "And if it doesn't work?"

"It will."

"You know, being too sure of yourself is a good way to get yourself killed."

"You're just mad at me because I thought of a way out and you couldn't." Hanson just crossed his arms and glared, which Dennis knew meant he was right.