FicWad

It took forty eight very long hours for the jury to reach their verdict.

Forty-eight hours of nerves and uneaten meals.

Forty-eight hours of no sleep and restless sex.

Mr Halifax has called us and told us we need to be back at the courthouse in an hour. We should be getting ready. We should be donning our suits for, hopefully, the last time.But we're not.

Nerves have gotten the best of us and I have Izzy pushed up against a wall. He clings to me as I press myself against him, our hard cocks rubbing together, twitching through our linen pants. It's a sensation I love so much, feeling the material rub against my sensitive hard-on. It turns me on and drives me crazy whenever Izzy runs his hand over my strained and imprisoned erection.

We pant and moan, tongues battling as our lips bruise. Izzy's fingers rake through my hair, tugging and begging, pleading with me to fuck him. Sliding my hands between us, I undo my pants, kicking them behind myself. Izzy lets out a groan as I do the same to him, his cock springing free as his pants swish softly to the floor.

His hands slide under my shirt, pushing it up my torso as I pick him up, my hands cupping his ass as he wraps his long legs around my waist. Another groan erupts from his throat as my fingers dig in and caress his shapely butt.

"Fuck me," he hisses. "Fuck me now."

I need no more encouragement as I sweep our collective pre-come along my cock. As I lube my cock, I stare into his eyes. For a few moments as least, the pain and horror of the up-coming verdict is forgotten. All that matters right now is us and our pleasure.

Izzy howls, his body stiffening as I thrust up into him. In one smooth movement I'm buried deep inside him. He pants and squirms, fingers scratching at me as he silently begs me to move. Wickedly I smile and nip at his ear, struggling to hold onto the horny Izzy.

"Calm down." I smile and lick the sensitive skin of his neck.

He moans, desperately trying to move himself along my prick. It's too much for me. Just looking at him, eyes glazed and his mouth open, panting silently, clammy hands clawing at me, is enough to push me over the edge. Shivering with pleasure, I push him up against the wall and do as he demands.

Again and again, I thrust into him, the musky scent of sex filling the air as we howl each others names. Our voices wrap and twist around each other, hands gripping the other close, desperate to never let go. We'll never let go, never let the other drown in whatever pain or sorrow might be waiting around the corner. We'll always be here for each other. Hopefully.

Izzy squirms against the wall, eyes squeezed shut as I bury my head in his neck. I nip and suckle at the skin, listening to him moan.

"Slash..." he whispers, again and again. "Let me come Slash..."

Grinning, I dig my teeth into his throat and slide a hand into his lap. I grip his cock and slowly begin to stroke. Izzy twitches in my arms, legs and arms tightening, as his voice sings my name. God, I love it when he's turned on. Love to hear him pant and moan, love to watch him squirm and wriggle. Love to watch him lie on the bed, legs shyly spread and hair hiding his eyes as he timidly strokes his cock. God, I love to watch him masturbate, love to watch him thrust into his hand as I tease and torment him. When all this is said and done, I'm going to watch him again. I'm going to lie him on the bed and pull down his pants and tease him until he can't help but jerk himself off.

I grin and nip at his neck again, loving this kinkier side of myself that's coming out. Moving, I angle my thrusts to hit his prostate. Izzy howls, back arching against the wall, cock hardening further in my hand. I can feel myself getting closer with each movement, Izzy's muscles tightening around me. I'm not going to last much longer.

Izzy screams my name, come filling my hand and splattering my stomach. I can't hold back and let out a howl that probably deafens him as I come deep inside of him. I carry on thrusting, again and again, draining every bit of pleasure from the moment. Feeding as much of it to Izzy as I can. God only knows we're going to need it.

For a moment, we lean against the wall, weak and panting before Izzy slides from my arms. With quick, deft movements he cleans and dresses us, casting me tiny smiles as he rearranges his hair. Eventually he kisses me and we slip from the house, heading for the car and the courthouse.

~~~~

The courtroom is hushed as we walk in. All eyes are on us, people nudge each other and whisper among

themselves. It's quite un-nerving and I keep my eyes focussed on Mr Halifax as I step up to my seat. He gives me a reassuring smile and places a hand on my shoulder as he bends to speak to me.

"It's going to be alright Saul," he whispers calmly. That's what I like about the guy; he's so calm under fire. I've never seen him really lose his temper or get worked up. I suppose it's the mark of a good lawyer.

I can feel Axl glaring at us from the next bench. I steal a glance at him and breathe a sigh of relief as I see that he's shackled to the table. Chains hang limply between his wrists and ankles. He catches me staring and sneers, giving a threatening shake of the chains as he does. You can feel the pure evil that flows from him. It surrounds him, almost shimmering the air like an invisible cloud.

The judge walks in and everyone stands. He purposefully walks to his bench and sits, shuffling papers as he does. He gives a little nod and chairs scrape as people sit. The air is heavy and hot with anticipation. From Izzy and I, all I can feel is fear. Izzy's fingers grip mine, holding tightly. Smiling weakly, I lift his hand and kiss his fingers. On his ring finger, a slender silver ring glitters. It was my mother's wedding ring and she gave it me after her and my father divorced. She told me she had no more need for it and that I should keep it. Now I've given it to Izzy. I wanted to show him how much I love him so, a few nights ago, in the midst of this horror of a trial, I slid it onto his finger. I hope it brings us more luck than it brought my mother.

The judge looks up and addresses the jury, "Have you come to a decision?"

One of the jurors, a smartly dressed older woman, stands and turns to the judge.

"Your Honour," she begins. "In the case of the State of California versus William Bruce Bailey, the jury could not come to a decision."

Izzy's hand clutches mine even tighter and I can feel my stomach churning as my vision begins to swim.

"What?" I whisper.

Beside my head, I can hear Izzy babbling incoherently, his husky voice whispering "No" over and over.

The judge sighs and puts down his papers before looking to us. I can feel myself swaying back and forth. If I feel like this, how the fuck is Izzy feeling. Weakly, I lift and arm and limply drape it around his shoulder, pulling him to me.

"I'm sorry to hear that," says the judge. "In which case I have no choice to call a mistrial. Mr Halifax, you under-"

I don't hear the rest of what he says because Izzy suddenly lets the room know he's alive and well by screaming his lungs out.

"How could you?!" he bawls at the jury, pointing an accusing finger at them. "After everything you've fuckin' seen and heard, how could not come to a conclusion? /He/." Izzy's finger moved to Axl. "Is a fuckin' monster and you're letting him go free?! To do it all over again?"

Izzy pulls away from me and storms from the room, fuming. I don't blame him. The jury, the completely and utterly incompetent jury, have just released Bill back into the world. Mr Halifax nods, signalling for me to go after Izzy. Our lawyer's face is not a pretty sight. We'd put up a good fight but it obviously wasn't good enough.

Outside, I find Izzy, curled up on the steps, a cigarette trapped between his fingers. His body is shaking and I know that inside the cocoon. Slowly I sit beside him and rest my head against his, my arm wrapping around his tiny waist and pulling him close.

"Why?" he whispers. "Why the fuck have the let him go?"

"I don't know," I quietly reply. "I just don't know. Maybe we'll get a re-trial?"

Izzy shakes his head, bloodshot eyes turning to me. "I don't want to go through that again. I don't think I could take it."

Gently I run a hand over his forehead, pushing the hair out of his eyes.

"He needs to be punished," I whisper. "He needs to pay for his crimes."

Izzy sighs, his body limp with defeat. We'd gone through so much, put our hearts and souls on show for the people in the courtroom and we'd come away with nothing. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. His head falls against my chest and his back heaves, a tiny sob escaping.

"I'm sorry," a voice interrupts.

We look up and Mr Halifax, also looking tired and worn, stands over us. He slumps to the steps, sitting beside us.

"Can we have another trial?" I look at him hopefully.

Slowly he shakes his head, all spark and vigour gone. "No, we can't." He swallows. "The judge called a mistrial. As the law of the land goes, we have one called the double jeopardy law."

I cock my head, confused.

"You see," he continues, "because of the mistrial, William can't be tried for the same crimes again. Even if there was a not guilty call, he wouldn't be allowed to stand trial for the same series of charges. The only way we could get another trial is if the forensics guys could prove that he actually shot your mom."

A spark of hope flared through my heart. "And can they?"

Mr Halifax shook his head. "I don't know if they can Saul, I really don't know if they can."

I sigh and drop my head back to Izzy's, hugging the shaking man close. What will become of us? Even I don't know.