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In the Cold Light of Day	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1081 -:- 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
- 1-All Shook Up
- 2-Choking on the Truth
- 1
- 2
Half an hour after Tom stomped out of the chapel, Booker made the decision to track him down. When he walked out into the bright L.A. sunshine, he discovered Hanson’s blue Mustang parked in its usual spot, meaning the young officer was on foot, which significantly narrowed his options. A thoughtful frown furrowed his brow, and reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a battered packet of Marlboros. Tapping out a cigarette, he placed it between his lips, and with a flick of his lighter, the tip glowed red. He inhaled a lungful of smoke, the rush of nicotine instantly soothing his nerves, and casting his eyes left and right, he contemplated which way to go. Knowing Tom as he did, he figured there was a good chance he had decided to walk off his bad mood, and his gut told him to go right and head toward the small park situated within the urban decay. It was a spot Tom frequented when he needed to clear his head, and it made perfect sense he would seek out the solitude it offered. He obviously had a lot on his mind, and it was the perfect place to sit quietly beneath the shade of one of the majestic trees and process his thoughts.
The park was only a short walk, and in less than ten minutes, Booker could see the leafy canopy of outstretched branches rising defiantly from the surrounding concrete infrastructure. As he approached the wrought iron fence, he spied a lone figure sitting between the gnarled roots of a large fig tree. With his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around his shins, Tom cut a lonely figure, and Booker’s heart thudded wildly against his ribs. He was the cause of all the young officer’s pain, and at that moment, he wished he hadn’t acted on his desires. If he could click his heels and return to the nightclub, he would never have offered to drive his friend home because that was the catalyst, the moment when Tom’s life had changed forever. Without him, there would have been no kiss, without him, Tom’s world would not have imploded, and as if on cue, the opening riff of Led Zeppelin’s, ‘Nobody’s Fault but Mine’ started playing in his head. The devil had definitely told him to roll, but as per the song, he was going to change his ways. This time, rather than act like a horny teenager, he would offer the hand of friendship and make everything right.
At least that was the plan.
With his mind firmly made up, he opened the ornate gate and walked over to the young officer. Squatting down next to him, he hesitated before laying a trembling hand on his shoulder. “Hey.”
Tom looked up, his eyes squinting against the harshness of the sun’s rays. At first, he didn’t speak, but eventually, his gaze returned to the ground, and he exhaled a troubled sigh. “Hey, yourself.”
Booker took a moment to settle himself comfortably beside Tom. A heavy silence hung between them, the distant rumble of traffic the only sound disturbing their solitude. Even the trees remained silent, their leaves unmoving in the motionless air. The quietude suited both their moods, and they welcomed the stillness it offered. But it didn’t take long for Booker to become restless, and wiping the grass from his hands, he addressed the elephant in the room. “We need to talk.”
Tom rested his chin on his knees, his gaze focusing on a large beetle crawling over the grass. “Why?” he asked, his dispirited tone chilling the air. “There’s nothing to say.”
It was not the response Booker had hoped for, and his typically cheerful attitude dissolved into a serious frown. “There’s plenty to say, Tom,” he ventured carefully. “You and I shared an awesome experience, and I think we should at least acknowledge what happened.”
Hanson’s head twisted to the side, the steely glint in his eyes cold and resentful. “Awesome?” he spat, his jawbone tightening in anger. “Is that what you think it was? Awesome? It wasn’t awesome, Booker, it was fucking humiliating! I hate you for taking advantage of me when I was drunk, you fucking sonofabitch!”
Shocked disbelief widened Booker’s eyes before a slow, seething animosity reddened his face, and jumping to his feet, he glared down at Tom, his hands balling into tight fists. “You think I took advantage of you? You asked to see my cock, you sanctimonious prick! And you weren’t drunk in the morning, you were fucking horny! So don’t you dare accuse me of exploiting you, you fucking asshole! All I did was give you what you wanted, but you’re too repressed to admit it!”
Tom ducked his head, his mouth twisting in anguish, his internal suffering wrenching at his gut. Everything Booker said was true, and no matter how hard he tried to portion the blame, he was the one at fault. He had willingly participated in a sexual act with the dark-haired officer, and now he needed to man up and accept the consequences of his actions.
Overwhelmed with emotion, his shoulders shook violently, and hugging his knees to his chest, he hid his face from view and allowed a stream of hot tears to flow freely from his tortured eyes. He had brought his pain on himself, and he wished Booker would leave him be and let him grieve in peace.
When a gentle hand rested on his back, he instinctively flinched from the contact, but the caress continued, radiating comfort with each tender stroke. A tight band of regret tightened his chest and lifting his head, he roughly wiped the tears from his eyes. He had behaved appallingly, but his confused state of mind made it difficult for him to think straight. Never before had he felt so unsure of himself because the Tom Hanson he thought he knew now appeared to be nothing more than a figment of his imagination.
He was a fraud.
Fresh tears glistened in his eyes, the opaque droplets threatening to spill at any moment, and choking back a sob, he struggled to control his quivering lip. “You’re right,” he croaked. “I did want it, I just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.”
Compassion softened Booker’s features, and sitting back down, he placed a comforting arm around Tom’s shoulders. Sex had brought them together, yet neither man knew how to proceed. For Tom, it was a physical impediment. His embarrassment swelled inside his throat, suffocating the words he longed to speak, leaving him mute. But for Booker, the underlying cause was more emotional. The last thing he wanted to do was make matters worse by saying the wrong thing, so he chose to remain silent, at least until Tom decided to open up and discuss his feelings.
Several long minutes passed before Tom finally found his voice. With a tilt of his head, he peered through his unruly bangs and asked what was foremost on his mind. “Does this mean I’m gay?”
The naiveté behind the question brought a smile to Booker’s lips, but he quickly disguised his amusement. Tom needed reassurance, and he was determined to answer as honestly and respectfully as possible, without sounding condescending. “I think you mean bi,” he corrected, “and I guess that all depends.”
“On?” Tom pushed, his earnest gaze fixing on his friend’s face.
Booker wiped a shaky hand across his mouth. “Well, have you ever had these feelings before?”
Tom’s head shook from side to side, the violent motion sending his hair whipping across his pale face. “Nuh-uh.”
“Um, okay,” Booker proceeded carefully. “So, why do you think you asked me to touch you?”
Heat reddened Tom’s cheeks, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. “I dunno,” he answered truthfully, his teeth anxiously worrying his lower lip. “I was just so horny and—”
“I was convenient?” Booker finished for him, the odd inflection in his voice hinting at his disappointment.
Tom’s shoulders hunched forward. “Maybe.”
Never one to give up hope, Booker continued to voice his observations. “But it was more than that, wasn’t it? You also wanted to watch me jerk off.”
A wince of shame passed over Tom’s face, the memory of his wanton behavior adding to his growing embarrassment. Once again, the dark-haired officer was right, he had wanted more than a quick handjob, he had wanted a connection, and there was no denying it, he had wanted that connection with Booker.
Unable to cope with the intense rush of emotion coursing through his veins, Tom blocked out the world the only way he knew how, by wrapping his arms around his head. But even though he could no longer see Booker, he could still feel his presence, and when he realized ignoring the dark-haired officer was a childish, futile gesture, he lifted his head and offered him a shy smile.
Booker’s lips curved in reply, his tender countenance crinkling the edges of his dark, soulful eyes. “Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
Tom worked some much-needed saliva into his mouth before answering. “You didn’t… I mean, you did, but you’re right, I wanted to watch you jerk off, and since then I’ve…”
The remainder of the young officer’s sentence remained unspoken, but this time, Booker wasn’t about to let him off the hook. “Since then you’ve what?” he pressed, his heart hammering heavily in his chest.
The depth of devotion reflecting in Booker’s eyes sent a surge of panic through Tom’s confused mind, and clambering to his feet, he slowly backed away. “I’ve gotta go.”
Mentally cursing himself for pushing too hard, Booker stood up. “Don’t leave, let’s talk about—”
“I can’t!” Tom exclaimed, his face etched with pain, and turning away, he sprinted from the park.
“Tom, wait!” Booker cried, but his plea fell on deaf ears, and within moments, his friend had vanished from sight.

To be continued…
- 1
- 2
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In the Cold Light of Day