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On the Wings of Maybe	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1468 -:- 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
- 14
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- 16
Four days later
Having spent a boring week at the Chapel, doing little more than filing paperwork and answering phones, both Booker and Hanson looked forward to the weekend so that they could finally start their investigation on the whereabouts of Jarrod Pilkington. However, they had very little to go on because they were prevented from accessing any police records to do with their case. All they knew for certain was that Jarrod attended Franklin High and that he was a senior. Booker had attempted to convince Tom that it would be easier to just go to the school and look for Jarrod but Tom was adamant; they investigated on their own time and that meant after work or on weekends.
Now it was Saturday morning and the appetizing smell of bacon and eggs wafted through Booker’s apartment. As he stood at the stove cooking breakfast, he silently observed Tom as he read the morning paper. He never tired of watching his boyfriend, even when he was doing the most mundane of tasks. In his eyes, Hanson was a work of art, the most beautiful man he had ever met. Even after knowing him for over six months, he remained captivated by the delicacy of his features and since their union, not a day went by when he did not feel like the luckiest man alive.
Tom suddenly became aware of Booker’s scrutiny and turning his head, he gave his lover a warm smile. They had spent every evening together since they had devised their plan and every night they enjoyed each other’s bodies in a way that Tom had never experienced before. Booker was an amazingly patient and gentle lover and although they had not had penetrative sex, Tom knew that it was imminent. They could only continue as they were for so long before Dennis would want more and although the thought terrified him, he wanted to give himself to his lover completely. The nagging voice in his head that told him it was a sin no longer plagued him and he now felt comfortable with his bisexuality. He could not believe that something that felt so right could be wrong. Booker was his soul mate and he hoped that when he finally plucked up the courage to come out, his friends and family would accept it.
When Booker placed a heaped plate of bacon, eggs and fried tomatoes in front of him, Tom folded up the paper and tossed it onto the nearby coffee table. He waited until Booker had taken a seat before picking up his knife and fork and digging in ravenously.
An amused smile twitched at Booker’s lips. It amazed him how much Hanson could eat and yet he never gained a pound. He put it down to nervous energy, Tom was always on the go and it was rare for him to just relax in front of the TV and do nothing. However, that suited Booker just fine, he hated being idle too and for him, it was just another tick in the box that marked everything that with right about Hanson.
Once again, Tom became aware that Booker’s eyes were on him and his fork paused mid air. “What?” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.
Dennis shook his head in wonder. “How is it that you don’t choke when you’re shoveling food into your mouth like that?”
“I’m hungry,” Tom muttered.
“You’re always hungry,” Dennis pointed out with a smile.
Tom grinned. “Yeah? Well maybe it’s because we burn so many calories in the bedroom.”
Desire flickered in Booker’s dark eyes. “Oh baby,” he murmured softly. “Just wait until we get to the good stuff. You’re gonna be famished.”
A soft blush tinged Tom’s cheeks and Dennis threw back his head and laughed. “God you’re adorable,” he teased.
Desperate to change the conversation, Tom put down his knife and fork. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
Dennis sighed. “Well, we have the addresses of every Pilkington listed in the phone book so I guess we go door to door until we find Jarrod.”
Tom asked the question that was on both of their minds, “And if we don’t find him?”
“I don’t know Tommy,” Booker replied quietly. “Let’s cross that hurdle when we come to it.”
They finished their breakfast in relative silence and half an hour later, they were ready to leave. Tom frowned as he watched Booker limp towards the door. “Is it me or is your limp worse today?”
Booker grabbed his leather jacket off the hook by the door and pulled it on. “You’re imagining it,” he replied gruffly. “I’m fine.”
Hanson crossed the room and laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “If you’re struggling to walk why don’t you go back to using a cane?”
“Because that’s not who I am!” Dennis barked. “So just leave it, okay?”
Startled by Booker’s harsh tone, Tom dropped his hand. “Okay,” he murmured softly. “But I was just trying to help.”
Feeling like a complete bastard, Booker wrapped his arms around Tom and hugged him close. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…” his voice trailed off and he gave Tom a tortured look. “I used to be so active and now I struggle to walk across the room. I hate it.”
Laying his head against Booker’s chest, Tom let out a heavy sigh. “I know you do but you’ve got to be patient.”
Booker turned away and picked up his keys. “I’ll feel a whole lot better when I know Robbie Watkins is behind bars.”
**
Three hours later and they were no further forward in their quest to find Jarrod Pilkington. Tom watched Booker limp down the overgrown driveway of the latest house they had visited and he let out a sigh. With each disappointment, Dennis had grown more silent and morose and he knew him well enough now to know that it was the calm before the storm.
When they reached the car, he laid a hand on Dennis’ shoulder. “Let’s call it a day and go do something fun.”
Booker shrugged away from Tom’s touch. “I don’t want to do something fun,” he replied testily. “I want to find Jarrod Pilkington and convince him to testify against Watkins.”
Tom realized the need to be gentle with his lover but he also needed to be honest. “Look Dennis, you’re tired and your attitude is making people wary. Even if we do find the right house, it’s doubtful anyone will speak to us because you’re coming on too strong. If you’re not careful, you’ll scare Jarrod off and then we’re screwed.”
Sighing heavily, Dennis leaned against the hood of his Cadillac and surveyed the run down houses that lined the treeless street. Every house they had visited had been the same, shabby and in need of a coat of paint, the yards littered with broken toys, empty oilcans and the occasional car up on blocks. The residents were the unemployed or the minimum wage earners living in forgotten neighborhoods. They were distrustful of strangers and especially of the police and if he continued to interrogate like an overzealous pit bull, he knew that all he would receive in return was silence.
He returned his gaze to Tom and gave him a wan smile. “You’re right. I’m taking this whole thing too personally. Instead of behaving like a police officer, I’m acting like a crazy person.”
Stepping between Booker’s open legs, Tom pressed his body against him and circled his arms around his waist. “Yeah, just a little bit,” he teased softly before his dark eyes clouded over. “But it is personal. We were shot and we’ve got every right to want to see justice served. We’re not just cops Dennis, we’re human beings too.”
A shiver ran down Dennis’ spine and placing a hand behind Tom’s neck, he drew him close and kissed him tenderly. “I love—”
The sound of a speeding car cut off Dennis’ words and a battered sedan raced past them. “FAGGOTS!” the teenage passengers yelled and several half-empty beer cans came hurtling towards them.
“Look out!” Tom yelled, but it was too late and a can of Budweiser slammed into the back of Booker’s head, spilling its contents down his neck.
“Jesus!” Booker yelled and his hand flew up to his head. “What the hell was that?”
Tom stood staring at the car as it disappeared down the road, its occupants hanging precariously out of the windows, waving their arms in triumph and giving him the finger. It was the first time he had experienced a homophobic attack and it left him feeling shaken. Was this what his life had become? Would he forever have to deal with taunts and disapproving glances because he chose to love another man? He felt sick to his stomach; his life would never be the same again.
A gentle arm draped around his shoulder and turning around, he gazed into Booker’s dark eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Dennis nodded. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”
A momentary flicker of sadness passed over Tom’s face. “Is it always like this?”
“Not always,” Booker replied quietly. “But sometimes.” Tilting his head on one side, he studied Tom’s pale face. “Can you deal with that?”
Tom lifted a trembling hand and ran it through his hair. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Does it ever get easier?”
“No,” Booker replied flatly. “It never does.”
The sadness in Booker’s eyes caused a physical pain in Tom’s heart. His lover had been experiencing homophobic attacks for years and he now understood why he was often caustic and arrogant. It was a defense mechanism he used to deflect prejudice and whether that prejudice was real or imagined no longer mattered, the behavior had become ingrained.
“Let’s go home,” he murmured quietly.
This time Booker did not argue. They drove in silence back to the apartment, neither man wanting to discuss what had happened. Once inside, Booker disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door. He stripped out of his beer-stained clothes and stepped into the shower. Salty tears mixed with the warm water cascading over his body and lowering his head, he allowed himself to grieve. It had been a thoughtless teenage prank, but it did not make it any less painful. Discrimination was not something you were born with, children learned it from their parents and they taught it to their children, who taught it to their children and so the cycle continued. It was something that he had learned to deal with but never accept and each attack hurt just as much as the last.
Not willing to indulge in self-pity any longer, he wiped his hands furiously over his tear stained face and exited the shower. He quickly dried off and wrapping a towel around his waist, he walked into the bedroom.
Tom lay naked on the bed and as Dennis’ dark eyes traveled down the length of his body, heat flamed his face. “I thought I could take you mind off things for a while,” he murmured shyly.
Ripping off his towel, Booker climbed onto the bed and gathered Tom into his arms. “Oh baby,” he moaned against his neck. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Tom’s blush deepened at the compliment and he bit down on his lip as light fingers traveled down his torso, stopping just above his pubic hair before traveling back up and tweaking his nipple.
“Tell me what you want,” Booker moaned against his throat, his mouth nipping and sucking at the taut skin. “I wanna make you scream.”
When Tom did not answer, he lifted his head and gazed into his lover’s flushed face. “Tommy?”
Tom immediately began to chew nervously on his lower lip. “I want… I want to take things further.”
Dennis’ eyes widened in surprise and his heart began to race. “Meaning?”
The dark eyes staring back at him filled with embarrassment and he felt a pang of pure love bursting from his heart. A small, tender smile played over his lips as he gazed down at his lover. “Do you want me to use my finger?” he asked gently.
Tom remained silent but his head quickly moved up and down in assent. Dennis could barely contain the excitement he felt welling up inside him but his face remained calm. “Okay baby, just let me get a few things.”
Watching silently as Dennis rummaged through his bedside drawer, Tom could not stop his body from trembling. They were about to enter into a new phase of their relationship, a more intimate phase and he would experience something that he had never experienced before. A feeling of panic rose in his chest. Would it be painful? Would it be embarrassing? Suddenly, a bombardment of fear and doubt flooded into his mind. He was terrified of making a fool of himself.
Booker placed a tube of lubrication on the bedside table before continuing his search through the cluttered drawer. His fingers eventually found the cassette tape he had been searching for and he inserted it into the boombox next his bed. The beautiful instrumental introduction of Led Zeppelin’s “The Rain Song” floated out from the speakers and he turned and smiled at his lover. But his smile quickly turned into a frown when he saw the terror in Tom’s eyes. He managed to disguise his disappointment and reaching out, he cupped Tom’s pale face in the palm of his hand. “It’s okay Tommy, maybe another time. It’s been a stressful day.”
Even though Dennis had given him an out, Tom refused to let his anxiety rule his heart. He wanted to take their relationship to the next level and if he did not do it now, when would he do it? He pushed away all the nagging doubts and taking in a slow, deep, calming breath, he managed a smile. “No, I want to.”
As he studied Tom’s face, Booker was not completely convinced but he wanted it so badly that he pushed his own nagging doubts aside. “Okay baby,” he murmured. “But if at any time you want to stop, we’ll stop.”
Tom nodded and he watched as his lover picked up the lubrication and positioned himself between his open legs. “Bend your knees up,” Booker instructed and he did as he was asked. He flinched slightly when a light finger caressed his perineum, but after several minutes, he found the gentle circular motion soothing and he felt his body starting to relax. Gradually the finger moved towards his opening and he sucked in his breath as the tip passed over his anus. Embarrassment flooded over him and he screwed his eyes closed, but upon hearing Dennis’ concerned voice, he opened them again and biting down on his lip, he gazed up at his lover.
“Do you want me to stop?” Booker asked gently.
He shook his head. “No, keep going.” This time he kept his eyes locked on the relaxed face above him as Booker’s finger continued its exploration over his puckered hole.
Another minute passed before Booker’s hand paused and he picked up the lubrication. Tom held his breath and watched with wide eyes as he squirted out a large dollop and coated his finger. Once satisfied, Booker rubbed a second dollop over Tom’s hole before moving forward and kissing him tenderly. “Ready?” he asked softly.
When Tom nodded his assent, he sat back up and placed his finger against Tom’s entrance. “Breathe in,” he instructed quietly. Tom took a deep, jagged breath and waited. “Now breathe out,” Booker murmured and when Tom exhaled, he gently pushed the tip of his finger inside. “And again,” he encouraged and inch by inch, he inserted his finger. He paused for a moment before carefully moving his finger in a slow, circular motion and with each rotation, he gently pushed through the tight rings of muscle. Once inside, he stopped and gave his lover a smile. “Okay?” he asked.
Although Tom’s brow was deeply furrowed, he managed to return the smile. “Yeah, it feels… weird.”
The soft sound of laughter escaped from Booker’s lips. “Oh baby,” he whispered. “Soon… it’s gonna feel amazing. Tell me when you feel it.”
When Dennis’ finger moved inside him, Tom struggled to keep his body relaxed. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Seconds passed and he wondered what it was he was supposed to feel and then without warning, a bolt of electricity flooded through his body as Dennis found his prostate and gently massaged it.
“Oh God!” he cried out in surprise. “Oh Jesus!”
A broad grin passed over Dennis’ lips. “That’s it baby, just lie back and enjoy it.”
Tom’s hands grasped at the crumpled sheet beneath him and his body squirmed. “Oh God Dennis… I never thought… oh God!” His cock swelled from the internal stimulation. “Oh Dennis! Touch me… touch me… touch me!” he cried.
Booker’s eyes widened in delight and he trailed a finger over Tom’s erection. “Do you like that baby?”
“Yes… yes… yes,” Tom panted excitedly as his hips thrust off the mattress. “Please! Oh Dennis please! I need to come… I need to come!”
Booker’s own erect cock stood proud against his stomach and he ached to feel Tom’s fingers wrapped around him. “Touch me baby,” he moaned as he began to jerk Tom off whilst still massaging his gland. “We’ll come together.”
“Fuck yeah,” Tom groaned and reaching out, he took Dennis to hand. Soft moaning rent the air, competing with Robert Plant’s voice, which echoed hauntingly from the speakers. “I’m close… I’m close…” Tom panted breathlessly. “Oh Dennis… oh Dennis… AHHH!”
Warm semen coated Booker’s fingers and when Tom’s hand stilled, he urged him on. “Don’t stop!” he cried, his need to find his own release overwhelming every nerve in his body. When Tom’s hand once again began to pump over his cock, he closed his eyes and threw back his head. “Yes… yes… yes… oh baby… oh baby… harder… harder… TOMMEEE!”
His orgasm hit hard and fast and his body shuddered. Opening his eyes, he carefully withdrew his finger before collapsing on top of his lover. They sought out each other’s mouths and kissed passionately as a post climactic calm washed over their bodies. Tom eventually broke the kiss and gazing deep into his lover’s black eyes, he grinned impishly. “Hell, if I knew about that, I would have become bi a long time ago.”
Booker rolled onto the mattress and wrapping his arms around Tom’s body, he pulled him close and nuzzled against his hair. “So it was good?” he asked softly.
Tom rolled over so that they were facing each other. “It was fucking amazing,” he murmured as his fingers lightly played with the hair at the nape of Booker’s neck. “How can something that feels so good be wrong?”
Booker pressed his lips against Tom’s forehead and kissed him softly. “It isn’t wrong,” he muttered. “It’s only narrow minded, bigoted people who think it is.”
Sighing contentedly, Tom closed his eyes and snuggled against Booker’s warm body. “Fuck ‘em,” he murmured drowsily.
Although Dennis shared Tom’s sentiment, he remained silent. He listened to the slow rhythm of Tom’s breathing as he fell asleep in his arms. But sleep did not come as easily to him. The sting of the teenager’s hurtful words still pained him and he knew it would not be the last time he heard such vitriolic hatred spewed forth from another human being’s lips. He knew he should shrug it off, but he could not forgive that easily. But what was worse was that he had brought Hanson into his world and he knew the pain he felt would now be twofold
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On the Wings of Maybe