Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Chasing a Butterfly	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 2592 -:- 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
- 18
- 19
- 20
Saturday October 21^st1989 (10.15 a.m.)
Booker awoke to the sensation of Tom’s lips playfully sucking on his nipple and a light hand teasingly caressing his growing erection. Wrapping his arms around the younger man’s body, he lovingly kissed the top of his head. “Mmm,” he moaned softly, “are you trying to tell me something Hanson?”
Tom flicked his tongue over the hard nub of flesh, immediately eliciting another murmur of pleasure from his lover and lifting his head, he gazed at the man he loved with bright, mischievous eyes. “You’re a cop, figure it out.”
With a growl of dominance, Booker flipped Tom onto his back and straddling his legs, he pinned his wrists to the mattress. Ducking his head, he dipped his tongue in his lover’s navel, swirling it in the slight indentation. Tom squirmed in delight as hot breath tickled his skin, arousing his flesh with dozens of goose bumps, each one electrifying his senses and making him hypersensitive to the tantalizing titillation. But as exciting and stimulating as the feel of Booker’s tongue against his skin was, it was not the scenario he had in mind when he had woken with a hard-on, and placing his palm against his lover’s cheek, he gently lifted his head and gazed into his dark eyes. “I wanna taste you,” he murmured seductively.
Dennis’ stomach flip-flopped with hot desire but he felt a pang of disappointment. He longed to feel Tom’s cock growing in his mouth, coaxing it to life until his lover’s tangy essence coated his tongue. But as he gazed down into Tom’s liquid brown eyes, an idea slowly formed in his mind and a cheeky grin played over his lips. He knew exactly what to do.
Sitting back up, he quickly removed his boxers, revealing his semi-hard erection. “Ever heard of a soixante-neuf?” he asked in a soft, playful voice.
Tom’s brow knitted together in confusion. “Since when did you start speaking French?”
A low chuckle escaped Booker’s lips and he shook his head back and forth. “Tsk, tsk Tommy and here I was thinking you were an educated man. A soixante-neuf is what we crass Americans call a sixty-niner. Ring any bells?”
A pink flush stained Tom’s cheeks, making him appear much younger than his twenty-four years and he rubbed a nervous hand over his lips. “I… um… I’ve never actually… you know… done that.”
Booker managed to suppress the smile that threatened to reveal his amusement but he could not control the teasing sparkle in his eyes. “Oh baby,” he crooned, “you have no idea what you’re missing out on.”
The Hanson of old would have reacted defensively at the embarrassment of revealing his naïvety but the new, more sexually worldly Hanson was eager to learn and his eyes danced with arousal. “Show me,” he murmured.
Bending forward, Booker brushed his lips against Tom’s full pout. “You’re in for a treat,” he whispered before slowly changing positions so he was kneeling next to Tom’s head. “Bend your knees up,” he instructed and when Tom had complied, he once again straddled his lover’s body except this time he was facing backwards.
Dropping to his hands, he positioned himself so his mouth was directly above Tom’s cock, and Tom’s mouth was directly below his. Without needing to be told, Tom gently took hold of the base of his erection and proceeded to suck on the tip. A low moan escaped Booker’s lips and ducking his head, he mirrored his lover’s actions. Within seconds, the exquisite flavor of Tom’s precum awakened his taste buds and the thrilling sensation of soft lips moving over his hardened cock was almost too much to bear. Light tremors vibrated throughout his body, electrifying his flesh and every nerve ending. When Tom’s hips began to lift off the mattress, forcing his cock deep inside his mouth, he simulated the action by slowly lowering and raising his pelvis. It was a primordial instinct, an inherent desire to both give and receive pleasure and they fell into a hypnotic rhythm of thrusting and sucking, each movement becoming steadily more fevered as their arousal intensified.
The salty tang against Booker’s tongue became more powerful and he knew Tom was close. Doubling his efforts, he increased the pressure of his lips and mouthed frantically up and down his lover’s shaft. A strangled cry sounded from behind him, the sound waves pulsating over his cock, leaving him shuddering with delight as warm semen shot into his throat. Without breaking rhythm, he swallowed instinctively, savoring the uniqueness of Tom’s sapidity but moments later, his own selfish needs took over and releasing the softening cock from his mouth, he ducked his head so he could watch his own erection thrusting in and out from between Tom’s lips. The sight was so erotic he lasted only a few seconds before his seed exploded from within, and ramming his cock deep inside Tom’s throat, he shot forth his orgasm.
Tom continued to lap and suck on his cock but Booker could feel his arms giving way and he slowly extricated himself from his lover’s hungry mouth before collapsing. An amused laugh rang out behind him and panting heavily, he disentangled himself and turning around, he flopped down on the mattress next to Tom. Turning his head, he brushed his lover’s hair from his flushed face and grinned happily. “So, what did you think?”
Throwing his arms around Booker, Tom snuggled in close. “It was fucking awesome,” he sighed contentedly as his eyelids grew heavy. “I could do that… all…”
When Tom did not finish his sentence, Booker looked down and saw that his eyes were closed and a pang of pure love burst throughout his heart. He wanted to forget the rest of the world and lie there soaking up the bewitching beauty of his lover’s angelic expression but there were pressing issues that needed addressing and with a regretful sigh, he poked Tom in the ribs. “C’mon, we need to get cleaned up.”
Tom’s eyes remained firmly closed but his lower lip pushed forward. “Don’t wanna,” he muttered petulantly.
At that precise moment, Tom had never looked so enchanting. With his rosy cheeks and soft, pouty lips, he was the picture of seduction and if Booker had been physically capable, he would have rolled Tom over and made love to him then and there. But two orgasms in two hours was the best he could hope for, plus Tom was still healing from his violent rape. However, one day, he hoped to make his dream a reality.
Sitting up, he gave Tom a playful slap on his butt. “Shower time.”
One dark, sleepy eye opened and peered up at him through its long, thick lashes. “Will you wash me?” Tom asked enticingly.
Booker tried to suppress the moan of longing that threatened to spill from between his lips, but he failed miserably. He could see their Saturday turning into a twenty-four hour sexathon and as much as he ached to explore his lover’s body over and over until fatigued rendered him incapable, he knew he needed to be the judicious one. Tom’s future was in his hands and he would not allow himself to become distracted to the point of being negligent in what he foresaw as his duty. However, he was a red-blooded male who was still in his sexual prime and he was not going to turn down the opportunity to rediscover the tantalizing secrets of Tom’s slender, young body, so with a grin, he held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
A slow, teasing smile played over Tom’s lips and taking Booker’s hand in his, he allowed himself to be led into the bathroom. He stood patiently until his lover had the shower set to a warm temperature before stepping under the soothing cascade of water and gazing seductively through his long, wet lashes. “I’m waiting,” he murmured in a soft, teasing voice.
Without hesitation, Booker stepped into the cubicle and tenderly pushing Tom’s wet hair from his face, he gently brushed his lips over his full, inviting pout. Eager hands grasped his buttocks, pulling him close and as the temperate spray of water flowed over him, he deepened the kiss. Their tongues danced playfully, eliciting the tangy taste of semen that lingered in their saliva. It was a powerful exchange and they both reveled in the masculine flavors that once again stimulated their taste buds.
When the kiss finally ended, Booker picked up the soap and lathering it to a foamy froth, he began to wash Tom’s torso. He took his time, exploring every inch of his naked flesh with his fingers, being careful not to press too hard on the yellowish-green bruises that still adorned his lover’s pale skin, which were the result of their fight in the motel. Once satisfied he was clean, he re-soaped his hands and gently ran his fingers over the length of Tom’s cock.
Hanson closed his eyes and although incapable of gaining another erection so soon after his last, he took great pleasure from the tender strokes of light fingers playing over his shaft. Desperate to return the favor, he took the soap from his lover’s hand and devotedly cleansed his body. Once their wet skin was fragrantly perfumed with the alluring scent of Old Spice, they lovingly shampooed each other’s hair. Although he wanted the moment to last a lifetime, Booker eventually turned off the faucets and led Tom dripping from the shower into the steamy bathroom. They rubbed each other down with soft fluffy towels, pausing occasionally to press their lips together and kiss affectionately. Once dry, they brushed their teeth and combed their damp hair before returning to the bedroom. They dressed in look-alike outfits of jeans and t-shirt, all belonging to Booker, as Tom now only owned one set of clothes. An amused smile touched Booker’s lips as he gazed at Tom in the ill-fitting clothing, but he kept his mirth to himself, unwilling to embarrass his lover by making a joke of his appearance.
Walking out into the small living area of his apartment, Booker immediately set to work making a couple of omelets. Tom sat at the small dining table, watching him with a slight, enamored smile curling at his lips. Booker always gave the appearance of being a resilient, leather jacket wearing, somewhat conceited tough guy and yet the reality was rather different. Although he was all of the aforementioned, he was also extremely sensitive and considerate, plus he seemed to know his way around a kitchen. Tom could not cook to save his life and he lived on frozen meals or takeout. He honestly never would have expected Booker to be so… domesticated but the realization only made his love for him grow stronger. There was more to Dennis Booker than met the eye.
Minutes later, a cheese and tomato omelet was placed in front of him and smiling appreciatively, he immediately began shoveling the eggs into his mouth. “Where did you learn to cook?” he asked through a mouthful of food.
Booker sat down and a reminiscent memory glistened in his eyes. “My grandma,” he replied softly. “I spent a lot of time with her growing up.”
Sensing sadness in his lover’s voice, Tom put down his fork and reaching out, he took hold of his lover’s hand and gave the fingers a gentle squeeze. “Sorry, I kinda feel like I’ve stirred up a painful memory.”
A twitch of a smile graced Booker’s lips before vanishing completely and lowering his eyes, he gazed down at his plate. “She died last year. I guess I still miss her.”
Tom was all too familiar with the pain of losing a loved one and he also understood the reluctance to talk about it. He gave Booker’s fingers another loving squeeze before picking up his fork. “If you ever want to talk about it,” he offered lamely.
A slight frown creased Booker’s smooth brow and drawing his hand away, he lifted his head and gave Tom a resolute look. “Actually, we do need to talk… just not about that.”
Tom’s body instantly stiffened at the ominous tone in his lover’s voice and placing his fork down for a second time, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “About what then?”
Booker ran a hand through his dark hair. “About your life Tommy. Your preliminary hearing is less than three weeks away and we need to start searching for a lawyer so—”
“I can’t afford a lawyer,” Tom interrupted in a terse voice, “and I won’t have you paying for one.”
It was the response Booker had expected but he could not help but let out an exasperated sigh. “This isn’t the time for your pride to stand in the way of common sense Hanson. A public defender isn’t going to get you off these charges; you need a top end lawyer and I can give you that.”
Tom stood up with such force, the chair’s legs caught on the worn linoleum, toppling it to the floor with a crash. “I’M NOT YOUR FUCKING CHARITY CASE!” he yelled, his face flushing red with anger. “I may have screwed up my life but I don’t need you stepping in like the Greatest fucking American Hero and saving the day! So back... the fuck… OFF!”
A dark cloud passed over Booker’s eyes and standing up, he threw his fork onto the table. “Fine!” he shot back angrily. “I thought I was helping you but hey, if you want to go it alone, be my fucking guest,” and turning away, he stomped into the bedroom and slammed the door closed with a resounding bang.
Tears filled Tom’s eyes but he refused to give into his emotions and angrily swiping them away, he stormed from the apartment.
****
Saturday October 21^st1989 (9.05 p.m.)
Tom stood on the sidewalk outside Booker’s apartment, staring up at the night sky. He knew the stars were out there, blanketed behind the pollution and harsh L.A. lights, but they were invisible to his naked eye. The fulfillment within his soul that Booker had given him had slowly ebbed away, leaving him empty inside. He felt completely alone, lost in a vast universe he could not see and his insignificance only heightened his feelings of solitude. In the space of only a week, he had successfully alienated himself from the one person who was willing to help him and he was once again, on his own.
When a gentle hand rested on the small of his back, he let out a startled yelp and spinning around, he gazed into his lover’s dark eyes. A mixture of shame, embarrassment and anger consumed him and turning away, he lifted his gaze back up to the night’s sky. “How did you know I was here?”
Booker shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. “I’ve been staring out of the window for hours, hoping you’d come home,” he confessed in a soft voice.
Tom turned his head and gave Booker a sad look. “This isn’t my home,” he murmured. “I’m kidding myself to think I could ever have a normal life again. I’m going to be found guilty and I’m going to prison, and the sooner I face that reality instead of living in a dream, then the easier it will be.”
A loud, disgruntled pfft exhaled from between Booker’s pursed lips and stepping in front of Tom, he pushed his face close and glared angrily into his eyes. “You’re a dick!” he exclaimed in a raised voice.
Surprised by Booker’s verbal attack, Tom took a step backwards and stared at his friend open-mouthed. “I’m a wh—”
“Dick!” Booker repeated loudly. “You’re giving up before you’ve even started. The Tom Hanson I used to know would never have been such a pussy! Why won’t you fucking fight?”
Once again, tears pricked at Tom’s eyes but he quickly blinked them away. He wanted to yell at Booker that he wasn’t a coward but instead he spoke in a soft, barely audible voice. “Because I won’t win.”
Placing his hands on Tom’s shoulders, Booker pressed his forehead against his lover’s and whispered softly, “Then let me help you.”
The love in Booker’s voice echoed in Tom’s heart and unable to control his emotions any longer, he burst into tears. “I don’t deserve you,” he sobbed.
Booker wrapped his arms around his friend and pulled him close. “Yeah you do,” he replied with a smile and taking hold of his lover’s hand, he led him back home.
- 18
- 19
- 20
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Chasing a Butterfly