Fuck 'em All

Title - Fuck 'em all
Author - Rina76
Summary - Justin is in court for the murder of Olivia Lake. Set after the movie. Oh yeah, and Cassie gets killed!! YAAY!! :D
Rating - NC17
Warning - SLASH, sexual depictions, violence, character death
A/N: Due to overwhelming demand, I have relented and included some hot lil extras in this piece, so enjoy! ;)

***


Justin was on trial. Everone was there, his parents, sitting together for the first time in years, Richard’s family, staring at him accusingly as if little Richie Rich had been an angel and Justin corrupted him. Angel. Yeah right. He didn’t look so angelic when he’d had his fingers wrapped tight around Justin’s throat and the other hand down his pants.

And that female cop Cassie was there too, trying to avoid looking at him directly.

Bitch.

She’d tricked him into confessing that he killed Olivia Lake. There was no tape.

Fucking bitch.

He wished he’d killed her while he had the chance instead of saving her in the hope he’d get off lightly. He should have let her fall onto the rocks like she’d done to Richard. If he hadn’t confessed, Justin would have played the victim card and Richard would have got all the blame. Hell, Richard was dead, he wouldn’t care. And Richard would have done the same thing if Justin heen een the one who died.

But it was over now. Everyone knew what they’d done. There was no reason to lie anymore. Richard wasn’t coming back and Justin was either going to spend the rest of his life in jail or get the gas chamber. He had nothing more to lose. Everyone in that courtroom knew he strangled that woman and that Richard had killed Ray even though the lawyers the Haywoods had hired were trying to pin it all on Justin.

The next piece of evidence was presented to the court. A large portrait of a male face.

Shit. We should have burnt that.

“Can you explain to the court what this is?” Justin was asked by the overweight man in a grey suit who was interrogating him.

“It’s a picture of mine and Richard’s faces morphed together,” Justin answered, his voice carefully blank and monotone. “We did it on my computer.”

“What is the significance of that portrait?”

“It represents how Richard and I were best friends. How we used to think that we were so similar, we were almost like one person.”

Oh God. He knew after he said that what was coming next. Here was the one question he’d been dreading this whole trial.

“It seems like you and Richard were more than just best friends. Am I correct?”

“Objection!” Justin’s lawyer called out.

“Overruled,” replied the judge.

The prosecutor asked again, “Were you more than best friends?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Justin said quietly, trying to stall. His wrists chafed where the cold metal handcuffs were rubbing his skin. His hands were cuffed securely in front of him, resting on his thighs.

“There was a bed at your secret headquarters in the old lodge,” the courtroom was told gleefully. “Can you tell us why that was there?

Justin fought his rising panic and clasped his fingers together in his lap to hide his trembling. He cleared his throat.

“Well, sometimes one of us would stay the night there, you know, if we were fighting with our folks or something.”

“Did you and Richard ever share that bed?”

With that sentence, and against his own will, Justin’s head was instantly filled with a swarm of flashbacks.

The two of them lying on the bed, spending hours upon hours lost in heavy, in-depth discussions and mock-serious arguments.

Staying up all night smoking weed, telling dirty jokes and cracking up over stupid things until they both had tears in their eyes and stitches in their sides.

Playfully wrestling and fighting, rolling around in the blankets, pinching, tickling and biting each other, until they laughingly gave up, called it a truce and just made out.

Him hugging a crying, shaking, bleeding Richard, comforting him after he’d borne the brunt of another one of his father’s violent drunken outbursts.

Promising to be together forever, even in death, and sealing the oath by slicing their bare chests with a jewelled-handled dagger and drinking each other’s blood like wine.

Staring into each other’s eyes, seeing the heat and the hunger always lurking beneath the surface of bright blue, volatile and explosive and completely useless to resist.

Kissing, lots of wet, thirsty kissing, while their seeking hands ripped apart clothing and eagerly found every secret, hidden place that made them groan in desire.

The look of surprise and pleasure on Richard’s face as Justin filled his mouth with absinthe and went down on him; the liquid icy-cold around Richard’s burning cock.

Drizzling honey onto each other’s nude bodies and licking it off, slowly and sensually; the syrupy sweet taste of it combining perfectly with the saltiness of Richard’s skin.

Justin tipping blistering candle wax onto Richard’s golden chest and belly, making him hiss, showing him that pain, in its many forms, can be good.

Richard tying Justin up with silk scarves and whipping him with his belt until he was covered in red welts and helplessly begging Richard to fuck him.

The feel of Richard’s quick tongue and soothing hands on his stinging flesh, on his throat, his nipples, his dick, and finally fingers, slippery with saliva, pushing into him.

Himself, lying face down, moaning into the pillow he was clutching while Richard lay on top of his back, heavy and hot, thrusting his cock deep inside Justin’s body.

The sensation of skin on skin as they made love; smooth, naked, raw and intimate.

Richard’s warm breath in his ear as he whispered Justin’s name over and over again.

Falling, drowning, panting and shuddering with release as they both came together.

Justin’s tears soaking into the pillows; Richard’s sweat dripping onto the sheets.

Drifting asleep in each other’s arms, the only place they felt they truly belonged.

Oh, the wicked, unforgettable things they did in that bed.

But Justin would rather die than tell that nosy, triple-chinned lawyer about any of it. Instead, Justin gazed at him, hiding how much he was freaking out and attempting to look confused.

“I don’t understand the context of the question.”

“Justin, you know exactly what I mean,” the prosecutor drawled. “Were you and Richard sleeping together? Were you, in fact, having a homosexual relationship?”

Justin felt his fear dissipate, replace by a sudden surge of hot, overwhelming rage at the invasive question.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you, you motherfucker!

He forced himself to breathe and tamp down the urge to leap out of his chair and choke the superior expression right off that fat bastard’s face.

Finally, he said softly and defiantly, “Go to hell.”

Justin’s eyes were pale blue chips of glass, his mouth set firm and his jaw clenched angrily. To channel his fury, he twisted a silver ring around his finger. The one he stole from Richards’s cold dead hand in the open casket. They’d let Justin out to go to the funeral but he was escorted by Cassie and another armed detective. He’d had to admit, the mortician had done a good job of patching up Richard’s handsome, angular face. He’d looked like he was sleeping. The funeral was lavish and extravagant with flowers everywhere and an expensive looking black and gold coffin. What else could you expect from the Haywoods?

So far, nobody had been game enough to ask for the ring back. It was the only thing he had left of Richard and he was fucking keeping it whether they liked it or not.

“May I remind you that you are under oath?” The suit cocked an arrogant eyebrow at him. “I repeat, were you and Richard Haywood involved in a homosexual relationship?”

Justin kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t going to reply. It was none of their Goddamn business.

“Answer the question, Mr Pendleton,” the judge ordered impatiently. Everyone was deathly silent, hanging on tenterhooks to hear Justin’s next words. You could have heard a pin drop.

Hey, Justin. Tell them the truth, man. Fuck ‘em all.

With surprise, Justin heard Richard’s voice plain as day, right in his ear as if Richard was standing there beside him. He could feel Richard’s presence, like a physical warmth and the hair on his arms stood straight up with the sensation. Then, his mind was suddenly calm and clear and knew what he had to do.

Justin stared straight at the prosecutor and spoke in a tone loud and articulate enough so that every single person in there could hear him.

“Yes.”

There was a collective gasp in the courtroom and the guy he directed the answer to blinked, as if he hadn’t expected Justin to tell the truth at all.

“That’s right. Richard and I were fucking,” he stated with perverse pleasure. “We sucked each other’s cocks on a regular basis. Is that what you want to hear, huh?”

There were outraged murmurs and shocked faces all around him. Justin smirked, thinking, Richard must be pissing himself with uncontrollable mirth right about now.

“Mr Pendleton, please refrain from using that kind of language in my courtroom,” the judge commanded.

Richard’s mother was sobbing hysterically, her face buried in her hands and his bastard father was sitting there devoid of any emotion, like a granite statue. He was probably thinking how his reputation was shot to hell now that his dead son had been revealed as not only a murderer, but queer to boot.

Eat shit, asshole. Justin sent a triumphant stare his way. That’s payback for every time you hit Richard and made him come crying to me.

“So, who seduced whom?” The prosecutor continued with relish, clearly enjoying the whole situation. Justin thought scathingly he was probably a faggot himself.

“Did you seduce Richard?”

“We seduced each other,” Justin told him without a trace of shame. It felt good to not have to hide their affair anymore. Richard would be proud of his courage. “I did not rape or force him and he did not force me. It was consensual on both sides. Sorry to disappoint you.” His lips curled in a cold, mocking little smile.

The query that followed was completely unexpected and wiped Justin’s expression right away as if he’d had a glass of ice water thrown in his face.

“Did you love Richard?”

“Objection!” Justin’s lawyer called out again. “Irrelevant.”

Once more the magistrate said, “Overruled.”

Jesus, I’m not gonna cry. I’m not. Keep your shit together, Justin.

His eyes stung with unwanted tears. He hadn’t cried in public throughout this whole ordeal. Not even at Richard’s funeral. Not even when he’d seen the casket lowered into the earth and the knowledge hit him hard that Richard, his beautiful Richard, had been cruelly and irretrievably taken from him. He’d waited until he was alone in his prison cell to break down. But… no. No! He wasn’t gonna do it here. He wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Not ever.

“Justin, answer me. Did you love him?”

Be honest, he said to himself. You owe it to Richard. He swallowed back the lump in his throat and whispered, “Yes.”

“Did he love you?”

“I think so. Yes.”

“Did he say those exact words to you?”

“No,” Justin confessed quietly. “But I know he did.”

He knew it by the way Richard held him tenderly after sex, the way he affectionately tucked his hair back behind his ears, the way he smiled at him, the way he looked at him as if Justin was all that mattered in this world. Richard loved him. He didn’t have to say it.

“So, you loved him,” the prosecutor confirmed. He paused. “Would you have done anything for him?”

“Yes,” Justin said firmly. “I would have done anything for him. He was the only good thing in my life.” He noticed Cassie was looking miserable and more than a little guilty. She averted her eyes when he glared at her.

This is your fault, you whore. You killed him. I hope you’re happy now.

“And do you think Richard would have done anything for you?”

“I believe so.”

“Including murder? Did you ask him to commit murder for you?” The prosecutor was getting excited.

“No. It was something we planned together, I told you that,” Justin said patiently.

“You also told us, Justin, that nobody knew you were friends. That everyone believed you and Richard hated each other. Did you threaten to expose your intimate relationship if he didn’t do what you asked? Is that how you got him to co-operate? By threatening to tell everyone he was gay?”

“No!” Justin denied emphatically. “I didn’t…I wouldn’t do that to him!”

“Well, members of the jury. Do you think it’s a coincidence that Justin’s so-called partner in crime just happened to be the son of one of the wealthiest men in this town and had the most to lose if his reputation was ruined?” The fat barrister appeared smug. “No further questions at this time, your honour.”

Justin scowled at him, seething with hate. If looks could kill, that son of a bitch would have exploded on the spot. Justin knew what the slimy prick was doing. The prosecutor was trying to make it look like Richard had been led astray by his evil, murderous lover, Justin himself. They were making it look like he was the dominant one, the one who gave all the orders and Richard was the poor sucker who fell for his pretty face and girlish mouth and did whatever he was told like a good doggy.

If only they knew. The simple truth of the matter was that they had both been in it together. Either one of them could have walked away at any point but they hadn’t. They’d seen it through to the end. They were both as guilty, disturbed and manipulative as each other. That’s why they gravitated towards each other like magnets in secret corners of their school. That’s why they plotted this crime. That’s why they kissed. And fucked. And fell in love.

And that was all it boiled down to. Murder, dark passion and unspoken love.

After a long and intense line of questioning, the jury deliberated and came back with the verdict. Justin was found guilty of first degree murder and received the death penalty. His mother fainted. Richard’s family rejoiced. Justin stood there quiet and unresisting, as he always was, as the cop beside him removed one side of the handcuffs so he could refasten them behind his back. Before he had a chance to do that, Justin snatched the cop’s gun out of his holster with an abrupt, unexpected move and shot the prosecutor right between the eyes, feeling incredible satisfaction as the bloated pig toppled over sideways. Justin aimed at Cassie’s white startled face and pulled the trigger, seeing her warm blood spray out like a fountain on the people directly behind her. This all happened in a matter of seconds. The other cop escorting Justin finally got his wits back, yanked out his gun and in a hail of bullets, the blue eyed boy went down. People were screaming and running, stampeding for the exit.

As Justin lay crumpled on the courtroom floor with multiple fatal gunshot wounds, his hair in his eyes and blood trickling from his mouth, he smiled weakly and whispered, “That was for you, Rich.”

Before he died, he swore he could hear Richard laughing.

END