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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
- 15
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- 17
Dennis and Tom spent the next month battling the elements in a desperate attempt to make enough money to keep them off the freezing streets. As the temperatures plummeted, a heavy, persistent snow fell from the leaden sky. Finding work became increasingly difficult and the two runaways often went to bed with their empty stomachs growling in protest. Their only pleasure came from each other’s bodies. They stroked and fondled each other until they found their release and during that time, their pain remained briefly forgotten. Booker hoped their relationship would become more physical but Tom seemed happy with the way things were, so he did not push. It was difficult at times, to keep control of his desires. He desperately wanted to make love to Tom, to show him how different fucking felt when it was between two people who loved each other. He knew Tommy had learnt to enjoy sex with Robbie Werner but it was not the same. Reliable Robbie did not love Tom, he desired Tom. Booker’s feelings for Tom were all consuming; he had never felt such strong emotions for another human being before. His heart skipped a beat every time he looked into Tom’s big, brown eyes and he knew that he would lay down his life for his lover. Sometimes he chuckled to himself at how soppy and emotional he had become since meeting Tommy McQuaid. His only explanation for it was that love was indeed, a very funny thing.
Arriving back at the hotel one afternoon after an appointment with Robbie Werner, Tom found Booker hunched over the bathroom sink trying to stem the flow of blood that poured from his broken nose. Alarmed at the amount of blood, Tom raced downstairs and begged Morty to help his friend. Grabbing an ice pack from the kitchen freezer, Morty followed the distressed teen up the creaking staircase. Helping Booker to sit down on the cold, tiled floor, Morty instructed him to lean forward and pinch his nostrils closed. Placing the cold pack on the back of Dennis’ neck, he waited patiently for the flow of blood to diminish. Twenty minutes later and Booker felt well enough to stand up. Checking his reflection in the mirror, Dennis sighed in relief to see that although he had swelling and his eyes were black, his nose remained straight. Behind him, Tom’s pale, worried face stared back at him. Turning, he attempted a reassuring smile but Tom looked away as his lower lip began to quiver. Assured that Booker was in no immediate danger, Morty left the two boys alone.
When Dennis attempted to speak, Tom ignored him and walked away. Letting out a deep sigh, Booker washed the blood from his face and hands before following Tom into the bedroom. He found his friend standing at the window, watching as crisp, white snow blanketed the ground. Standing behind him, Booker placed his arms around Tom’s waist and laid his chin on his shoulder. He felt Tom’s body stiffen under his touch before he pulled away and walked over to the bed. Turning around, Dennis watched as Tom took off his boots before lying on the bed and closing his eyes. Not really in the mood for an argument but feeling the need to ease the tension in the room, Booker sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on Tom’s thigh. “I’m okay Tommy, it looks worse than it is,” he reassured.
Opening his eyes, Tom stared back angrily. “Why do you keep going with those men when you know they’re gonna hurt you?” he demanded. “Is it ‘cause you like being hit?”
“Like it?” Booker snapped back as his rage slowly escalated. “Do you really think I get pleasure from getting my face smashed in? Why the fuck do you think I keep doing this, huh? I do it for us you ungrateful little shit. We don’t all have a Robbie Werner taking care of us.”
“Is that my fault?” Tom yelled back. “You’re the one who wanted me to go with him. What’s your fucking problem, are you jealous ‘cause you know he makes me come?”
Dennis slapped Tom hard across the face. Seeing Tom’s expression of horror, he immediately felt remorse. “Oh God Tommy I’m sorry!” he cried as he attempted to pull his lover into his arm.
Tom jerked angrily away and as he climbed from the bed, he threw Dennis a look of disgust. “If you ever lay a hand on me again you’ll fucking regret it,” he whispered menacingly. Pulling on his boots, he grabbed his coat and stormed out of the room, slamming the door in his wake.
Covering his face in his hands, Dennis started to sob uncontrollably. He had thought that when he met Tommy his life would become less painful but in truth, it had become more so. Caring so deeply for another human being hurt in ways that Booker could never have imagined. The ache in his heart was unbearable; he hated himself for causing Tom so much unnecessary pain. Curling up on the bed, he continued to weep until he fell into an exhausted sleep.
**
Tom arrived home several hours later to find Booker lying motionless on the bed, staring at the window. Setting a half-eaten pizza in its box onto the bedside table, he sat on the bed and pulled off his snow stained boots. Lying down, he placed a cold hand on Booker’s arm. “Hey,” he murmured as his fingers lightly stroked Dennis’ skin, “I bought pizza if you want some.”
“I’m not hungry,” Booker’s muffled voice replied.
“Yeah you are, you’re always hungry,” Tom quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. When Booker did not reply, Tom snuggled in close to Dennis as his hands began to move up and down Booker’s body. “If you don’t wanna eat, we can fool around,” he whispered seductively.
Booker’s skin prickled as Tom’s fingers moved lightly over his body. Rolling over, he gazed into Tom’s wide eyes. “I’m sorry I hit you,” he muttered miserably, “That was a shitty thing to do.”
“Yeah it was,” Tom answered honestly. “But I kinda deserved it. I shouldn’t have said that about Robbie Werner.”
A tortured expression passed over Booker’s face. “It’s true though, you like having sex with him.” When Tom did not answer, he whispered, “Why won’t you have sex with me?”
Tom’s hand stopped moving and he sat up. Staring down at Booker’s battered face, Tom fought to keep his voice under control, “Is that what this is about? You’re pissed at me because I won’t let you fuck me?”
Booker struggled to sit up, his eyes once again flashing with anger. “Maybe I am. I don’t understand it, why won’t you let me when you have no problem letting Robbie Werner or any other john who hands you a few dollars. Is that what I’m doing wrong? Do you want me to pay you?”
Tears welled in Tom’s eyes. “If you’re trying to hurt me you succeeded you asshole,” he murmured, his face a picture of misery. Standing up, he slowly crossed the room and curled up despondently onto the chair. “If you want someone to fuck, go fuck yourself.”
Booker knew he had gone too far. He wished he could take back the spiteful words that had upset Tom but he could not. Once spoken, the hurt could not be undone. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and approached the chair. Receiving no acknowledgement from Tom, he squatted down on the floor and laid his hand on Tom’s knee. “I don’t know why I said that,” he whispered, as his eyes pleaded with Tom to forgive him. “I’m sooo sorry Tommy, I never meant to hurt you, I just…” he paused for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “I just care for you so much and you’re right, I do get jealous when I know you’ve been with Werner because I hate it that he gets to have you so completely.” When Tom finally met his gaze, Dennis hurriedly continued, “But I’m okay with what we have, honest. I’m just sick and tired of our whole fucking existence. I hate the way we live and I hate the men that take advantage of us.” Sensing that he was finally getting through, he picked up his lover’s hand and gently squeezed the slender fingers. “Don’t you get it? I want more for us. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Neither boy spoke for several minutes until Tom finally broke the deafening silence. Lightly stroking Dennis’ bruised and swollen face he whispered, “I don’t want to do it anymore either but we have no choice Booker, what else are we gonna do?”
Leaning forward, Booker pulled Tom into his arms. “I don’t know Tommy,” he whispered, “But I’ll think of something.”
- 15
- 16
- 17
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What Is and What Should Never Be