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What Is and What Should Never Be	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1336 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 21JS or the characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
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Awakening to the sound of rain, Tom slowly opened his eyes. No sun light filtered through the crack in the curtain, making the room gloomy and cold. It took several moments before Tom’s brain acknowledged the heaviness on his body. Looking down, he saw that Booker’s arm lay draped across his waist. At first, embarrassment washed over him at the thought of Dennis holding him in such a loving way. But as he became aware of his back touching Booker’s chest, he slowly realized how comforting it was to lie so intimately with another human being. He could feel Dennis’ breath against his neck and a shiver of arousal ran through his body as his heart rate quickened. Closing his eyes, he allowed his body to take pleasure in the contact with Booker’s skin. His cock began to swell and before he could control himself, he let out a soft moan. Aware of movement beside him, he sat up in bed with a jolt, crying out as his bruised ribs flared from the sudden agitation.

Wrapping his arms around his chest, Tom blinked back tears of pain. He felt a soft caress against his skin as Booker tenderly rubbed his bruised back.

“Hey Tommy, are you all right?” Dennis asked in concern as his fingers continued their gentle movement over Tom’s damaged skin.

Nodding, Tom turned and managed a watery smile. “Yeah, I guess I sat up too quick.”

Smiling tranquilly, Booker replied in a somewhat teasing tone. “Well, why don’t you lie back down?”

Tom could not help but grin. “Asshole,” he laughed, as he felt his earlier fears dissipate. Lying carefully back down, he stared up at the cracked ceiling. He had so many thoughts racing through his brain but he was too afraid to voice them. Sensing Booker’s gaze upon him, he rolled onto his side. He smiled at Dennis’ ruffled hair and sleepy expression. Tom thought he looked more like the boy next door than the bad boy image he tried to portray.

“What?” Booker asked softly, his voice still drowsy.

About to reply “nothing,” Tom suddenly found himself asking, “Have you ever been in love?”

A slow smile spread across Booker’s face. “Wow Tommy, that’s a heavy question first thing in the morning. Why do you wanna know?”

A pink flush tinged Tom’s cheeks and he ducked his head in embarrassment. “I dunno,” he replied, as his finger traced a pattern on the duvet. “I was just thinking that…” his voice trailed off and after a few moments he murmured, “It doesn’t matter, forget it.”

Getting the impression that Tom really wanted to discuss something but did not know how to broach the subject, Booker pushed gently, “Tell me.”

Feeling foolish at having started the conversation, Tom’s flush deepened. Sometimes he felt like such a child. Over the last few days, he had come to realize that Doug was the tough one. Without his brother by his side, he felt weak and helpless. Since leaving home, all he had done was cry. He had always thought that people were afraid of him but now he knew it was Doug that they feared, he was just little Tommy McQuaid, Doug’s baby brother. He was inexperienced in the behaviors of normal fifteen-year-old boys. The abuse at home had prevented him from developing relationships with his peers. Doug had been the only other teenager in his life and because of his lack of contact with others his age, he often felt emotionally stunted.

Lifting his head, he met Booker’s compassionate gaze. He swallowed deeply before murmuring, “Everything I’ve been through, all the things that have been done to me and…” Lowering his eyes, he whispered, “I’ve never been kissed.”

The revelation stunned Dennis completely. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that was possible. Tom was so unbelievably gorgeous, that he imagined he would have had loads of girls lining up to date him, regardless of the rough exterior. Seeing Tom’s mortified expression at having revealed such an intimate secret, Booker gave a sympathetic smile. “Hey, that doesn’t mean anything. Your life’s been tough, it’s understandable—“

“IS IT?” Tom yelled hysterically, his face distorted with anguish. “I always thought the kissing part came first. But no, the first thing I learnt was how to give head! For fuck’s sake, how fucking screwed up is that?” Determined not to cry, he quickly turned away so he would not have to witness the pity on Dennis’ face.

A heavy silence hung in the air until Dennis finally spoke, “Look at me Tommy.”

Stubbornly shaking his head, Tom remained staring at the open door of the bathroom. After several moments, Booker climbed out of bed and walking around to the opposite side, he sat down next to Tom. Sweeping Tom’s long bangs from his face, Dennis gave his friend a supportive smile. “It’s your Dad who took your childhood from you Tommy, he’s the one to blame. Is it fucked up? Of course it is. But you mustn’t feel inadequate because someone else forced their screwed up life on you.” Stroking Tom’s hair he paused for a moment before continuing in a soft voice, “I promise you, one day you’ll find someone to love and they’re gonna love you back just as much.”

Tom sat up slowly, his eyes misty with unshed tears. “Do you really think so?” he asked shyly.

Booker pulled him into a gentle hug, being careful not hurt his damaged body. “I know so,” he whispered in Tom’s ear, wishing he could be the one to show Tommy how wonderful true love really felt.

**

Both boys fell back to sleep for several more hours. Dennis woke first and as he climbed out of bed, he was careful not to wake Tom. Pulling back the curtain just enough so he could peer out, he saw that the rain had stopped. He stood for several minutes watching the people on the footpaths below scurrying back and forth, going about their daily business. He spotted several street kids he knew pan handling on the corner. Few people stopped to throw loose change into the baseball caps lying on the pavement. Booker knew how hard it was to make any money by begging but it was always worth a try. Anything was better than the alternative.

Turning away and letting the curtain drop back, he stared at Tom. The bruising around Tom’s eyes and face were still a vivid shade of red. He knew it must be painful, along with the damage to Tom’s ribs, the knife wound and the various other contusions covering the slim body. But Tom had made no real complaint, leading Booker to the conclusion that severe beatings were a regular occurrence in Tom’s life. His eyes moved over to the digital clock on the nightstand. The red luminous numbers informed him that it was 11:06am. Grabbing up his clothes, he walked into the bathroom.

Exiting a half hour later, he saw Tom standing at the window. He walked over and silently stood next to his friend but instead of looking down at the swarming crowds, he studied Tom’s pale face. He could see the pain reflected in the brown eyes and putting an arm around Tom’s slim waist, he gently steered him back towards the bed.

Grateful to be back under the warm covers, Tom gave Booker a half smile but it quickly disappeared when he saw Dennis pulling on his boots. “Where are you going?” he asked, his brow knitting into a worried frown.

Booker grinned back. “It’s not what you think, we’ve got enough money for a few days. I thought I’d bring you breakfast in bed or…” he indicated towards the clock, “lunch in bed, seeing as it’s nearly midday.”

Tom beamed back happily. “Lunch, then we can have burgers.”

“Burgers it is,” Dennis replied cheerfully. “But I’ve got an errand to run first so I’ll be gone for a while. Will you be okay?”

“Sure,” Tom replied lazily, “Just chuck us the remote and I’ll watch TV.”

Booker threw the rectangular device onto the bed. Grabbing his jacket, he said goodbye to Tom and left the room.

**

Returning two hours later, Booker opened the door to see that Tom had showered and dressed. He placed the bag of burgers on the bedside table and sat down on the bed as Tom struggled to a sitting position next to him. As they started eating, Tom spied a second larger bag sitting on the floor. Speaking with a mouth full of food he mumbled, “What’s that?”

Dennis put down his burger and reached in the bag. First, he pulled out some non-prescription pain medication and tossed them onto the bed. Secondly, he pulled out a long, grey trench coat. “I went to the second hand store and got you this. I know it’ll be too big but it’ll keep you warm.”

Tom smiled through a mouth full of burger. Swallowing down his food, he stood up and tried on the coat. It reached almost to his ankles and was a little too broad across the shoulders but otherwise it fit well. A deep sense of gratitude washed over him. Booker had spent money on something that was really a luxury. Spending money on such an item meant that he would be back on the streets sooner than what would have been necessary. Heaving a sad sigh, Tom took off the coat and after throwing it on to the bed, he sat back down and resumed eating. “Thanks,” he muttered, averting his eyes from Dennis’ gaze. “But you shouldn’t have.”

Narrowing his eyes, Booker stared at Tom. “Don’t you like it?” he asked. He felt deflated at the lack of reaction. He had been so sure that the coat would be the sort that Tommy would like.

Feeling like an asshole for not showing his gratitude, Tom wiped his mouth and turned to face Booker. “I love it,” he replied, managing a small smile. “But you shouldn’t have spent the money on me. It just means you have to go back out—“

“I’m gonna have go back out eventually anyway Tommy,” Booker answered sadly, “And you needed a coat, you’ll never survive the winter without one.”

The thought that he would still be on the streets come winter made Tom’s heart sink. He had only been away from home a few days and within that short space of time, he had managed to be duped, beaten up and sexually molested. God only knew what the next six months would hold if his first couple of days were any indication. A dark cloud descended over him. He was not sure he could do it for that long, even with Booker by his side.

Seeing the change in Tom’s mood, Dennis laid a hand against Tom’s bruised cheek. “Hey,” he murmured in a comforting tone. “What’s going on?”

Tom’s big, brown eyes met Booker’s gaze. “I don’t think I keep doing this,” he whispered, feeling even more pathetic as the words left his mouth.

Coldness gripped at Dennis’ heart at the thought of losing his new friend. “Do you want to go home?” he asked quietly, afraid of what the answer would be.

Tom remained silent for several minutes as he thought over his options. Going home would mean dealing with his father’s physical and sexual abuse. It would mean having no one to talk to and no one to comfort him when he was hurting. Staying on the streets meant prostitution and the possibility of physical harm. But it also meant having Booker as a companion, someone who knew exactly what he was going through. Booker offered both friendship and comfort and having finally experienced the two, Tom knew he could not give them up. Rubbing his face with his hands, he turned and faced Dennis. Smiling, he mumbled awkwardly, “I want to stay with you.”

The tightness in Dennis’ chest relaxed and he smiled happily. “Good, ‘cause I’m kind of getting used to having you around.”
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What Is and What Should Never Be