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If You Want My Love, You've Got It	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 821 -:- 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-Heart on the Line
- 2-On Shaky Ground
- 1
- 2
The pleasing scent of freshly ground coffee wafted through the apartment, infiltrating Tom’s dream with its aromatic fragrance. Opening his eyes, he found himself alone on the sofa, the blanket he’d had draped around his shoulders now neatly tucked around his boxer-clad body. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and stifling a yawn, he threw back the blanket and looked around his apartment.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
Booker stood leaning against the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand. It was then Tom noticed the gleaming floor, the remnants of broken glass and spilled bourbon now nothing more than a distant memory. “You cleaned up,” he observed with a grateful smile. “How long was I asleep?”
Glancing at his watch, Booker swirled the remaining coffee in his cup before downing it in one gulp and placing the empty vessel in the sink. “A couple of hours. It’s after nine, so I guess I should get going.”
“Don’t.”
The softly spoken request sent an unexpected shiver down Booker’s spine. It still amazed him how Tom’s voice had the power to make him weak at the knees. Even the utterance of a simple word sent his heart dipping and stomach somersaulting. He was spellbound, touched by the magical allure that was Tom Hanson. It was a strange feeling knowing another person had that amount of control over his emotions, but he hoped the enchantment never wore off. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so physically alive when in the presence of another human being, and even though he wasn’t sure if he and Tom were a couple, the thrill was too wondrous not to enjoy.
Pushing off from the edge of the counter, the dark-haired officer walked over to the sofa and perched on the arm. “Okay. I guess I could hang for a while. How’s the pain?”
“I can live with it,” Tom muttered while refusing to meet Booker’s inquiring gaze.
“You don’t have to, you know.”
The quietly spoken attestation was not what Tom wanted to hear, and his lower lip pushed into a moody, yet to Booker, somewhat endearing pout. “You promised you wouldn’t bring that up again.”
Booker grinned. “Well, technically, I didn’t promise so—” When Tom’s pout turned into a scowl, he immediately stopped talking. The last thing he wanted was to provoke an argument, and so he shut down the conversation before it got out of hand. “Okay. Point taken.”
Tom’s frown slowly melted into a look of self-consciousness. Although he and Booker had shared several intimate moments together, he suddenly felt weirdly exposed, sitting there, with just his boxers covering his nakedness. Carefully rising to his feet, he gave his friend an awkward smile. “I think I’ll get dressed.”
“Don’t do it on my account,” Booker replied, a salacious grin forming on his lips. “The view looks pretty damn good from here.”
Embarrassed, Tom sat back down, a light flush creeping up his neck. But the heat wasn’t restricted to the upper part of his body. A delightful warmth began to spread downward from the pit of his stomach, the titillating sensation emanating throughout his groin making him squirm. However, as much as his cock screamed ‘touch me!’, he wasn’t about to fall into the same trap again. If he were to throw caution to the wind and abandon his heterosexual lifestyle completely by taking a chance on love with Dennis, he wanted to do it right. Their fledgling affair was built purely on sex, and he didn’t want a relationship based solely on physical necessity. He wanted the emotional aspect as well… the mental connection that brought two people together in both an intellectual and empathic capacity. Sex was great for satisfying the primordial urges, but he needed more. Love was a three-dimensional entity, and while many based the Triangular Theory of Love on three orthogonal dimensions: intimacy, passion, and commitment, for Tom, the theory went much deeper. Trust and respect were high on his agenda, and although he’d shared some highly memorable and intimate moments with Booker, he wasn’t sure he completely trusted him. A mere two-and-a-half-weeks ago, he’d barely acknowledged Dennis as a person, and the speed with which he’d allowed himself to fall under his beguiling spell was more than a little disconcerting. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t open to pursuing a proper relationship… he was. He just needed to lay down some ground rules, and he hoped that whatever happened thereon, his moral standpoint would somehow, give him the peace of mind he craved.
Gathering the discarded blanket into his lap, he spoke the four most dreaded words in any relationship. “We need to talk.”
Fear pricked at Booker’s skin, the ghostly sensation raising the hairs on his arms. The ‘We need to talk’ talk was never a good omen, and he briefly wondered if he’d misread the signals. There was no doubt in his mind the spark was still there, and he was certain Tom felt it too. Like every great love story, the sexual tension between them was palpable, but was it enough for Tom to act on his desires? The seed of doubt was again planted, and Booker was no longer sure. But he hoped he hadn't inadvertently said or done something stupid that had prompted Tom to have the talk because if he had, he would rue the day he had opened his big mouth.
With his thoughts in a cyclonic whirl, articulating his innermost feelings wasn’t an option for Booker, and so he replied with a simple, “About?”
Detecting a strained tone in his friend’s voice, Tom leaned forward and rested a reassuring hand on his knee. “Just hear me out, okay?”
A moody pout formed on Booker’s lips. “Do I have a choice?”
Tom snatched his hand away, the sudden movement sending shockwaves of pain through his body. He drew in a sharp breath and placing a stabilizing hand against his side, he silently counted to ten. He was pissed off, but rather than telling Booker to take a long walk off a short pier, he bravely fought through his suffering and continued his dialogue. “Of course you do,” he advised in a calm voice. “No one’s holding you to ransom. If you want, you can get up and walk out of here right now.”
Booker’s muscles twitched. Every nerve, every fiber of his being screamed at him to stand up and get the hell out of Dodge. Staying wasn’t worth the humiliation. Staying wasn’t worth witnessing Tom’s expression when he told him it was over. Staying wasn’t worth the assault charge he’d face when he punched the smile off Tom’s face. Stay… go… stay… go… the words bounced around inside his head, mocking him to the point of distraction. Should he stay or should he go?
In the end, he stayed.
Taking a deep breath, it took all his patience not to yell at Tom for leading him on. But he couldn’t quite contain the anger pulsing through his veins. “Go on,” he sneered. “Let’s hear what the straight and oh so boring Tom Hanson has to say.”
Hurt flickered in Tom’s eyes. Things weren’t going to plan, and he started to wonder if attempting to explain himself was worth the aggravation. He was tired, he was in pain, and all he wanted to do was find a comfortable position and sleep until his damaged ribs healed. But as that wasn’t a realistic option, he battled on through gritted teeth. “Don’t you see what’s happening? Don’t you understand why we keep having these arguments.”
Unable to stay seated any longer, Booker rose to his feet. “You’re doing such a bang-up job,” he growled. “Why don’t you explain it to me, genius.”
Tom could feel his anger mounting and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he screwed his eyes closed for several seconds. When he opened them again, Booker was still glowering at him and lowering his hand, he let out a sigh. “It’s simple. We don’t trust each other.”
A look of surprise passed over Booker’s face before his trademark sneer returned. “Bullshit.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, it is,” Booker shot back. “We work side by side on cases every day. If you didn’t trust me, you wouldn’t work with me. How’s that for insight?”
There was a sliver of logic behind the statement, but Tom wasn’t about to give up. He knew he was right, and he needed Booker to understand so they could move forward with their relationship. “Okay, yeah, I get that. We trust each other at work. But think about it, Dennis. We hardly know each other, so it makes sense we sometimes... misinterpret what the other one is thinking or saying.”
“Oh, give me a break!” Booker snorted, his eyes rolling for dramatic effect. “Did I misinterpret you saying, um, okay? ‘Cause if I did, boy, is my face red!”
“Sarcasm isn’t helping, Dennis,” Tom replied in a quiet voice. “I’m trying to explain myself. Why are you deliberately provoking me?”
“Because I still don’t get where you’re going with this,” Booker sulked. “If you orchestrated this little stunt to get me here so you could tell me our relationship really is over, then congratulations, I fell for it, ‘cause I thought you invited me here to make up.”
“Can I have my badge?”
Thinking Tom was asking for his identification so he could get him out of the apartment, Booker reached into his back pocket, and pulling out the badge, he pitched it at the young officer. “Here! HAPPY?”
The badge hit Tom in the chest before harmlessly falling into his lap. The young officer stared at the battered wallet for a moment before picking it up and holding it out in front of him. “I gave this to you for a reason. It was a gesture of trust. Get it?”
Narrowing his eyes, Booker studied Tom’s face. “What exactly are you saying?”
Tossing his badge onto the sofa, Tom climbed painfully to his feet and stood in front of his friend. “I’m saying I want us to be a couple, but we need to start from the beginning. You know, get to know each other better before we jump into bed.”
Booker’s wide-eyed expression conveyed a slow dawning of understanding. “Are you saying you want to date?”
Tom’s face blushed red, the pinkish hue highlighting his cheekbones. But he stood his ground, his gaze fixed on Booker’s startled expression. “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”
Booker wiped a shaky hand over his mouth. “What does that mean, exactly?”
Stepping forward, Tom took hold of his lover’s hand, a coy smile tilting his lips. “What it means is, I want you to woo me.”
Before he could prevent his emotions from bubbling forth, a loud chuckle erupted from deep inside Booker’s chest. “You want me to woo you?” he snorted, the old-fashioned phrase transforming his bemused expression into a wide grin. “Geez, Hanson, what century were you born in?”
Embarrassed, Tom quickly released Booker’s fingers and taking a step back, he wrapped his arms around his aching torso. “Forget it,” he muttered, a deep hurt projecting from his dark eyes. “It was a stupid idea. You’re obviously not interested so—”
“Hey,” Booker interrupted, and taking hold of Tom’s hand, he gave it a light squeeze. “I didn’t mean to poke fun. I get it, I do, and of course I’m interested. It’s just… does this really mean no sex?”
The cheeky inflection in Booker’s question helped ease some of the tension, but it also made light of what Tom considered a meaningful conversation. However, rather than getting angry, it only helped strengthen the young officer’s resolve. He had the courage of his convictions, and if his lover wasn’t prepared to put the physical aspect of their relationship on hold, then he knew the best thing he could do was walk away.
Unable to meet his lover’s gaze, he lowered his eyes to the floor. “I want to be with you,” he reiterated in a soft voice. “But for this to work, I need to slow things down. So, yeah, that means no sex... at least for a while. I know I’m asking a lot, so if you don’t want—”
“Yes.”
Slowly lifting his gaze, Tom peered out through a curtain of hair. “Yes? Yes, what?”
Gently cupping Tom’s face in the palm of his free hand, Booker lovingly stroked his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Yes, to dating. Yes, to no sex. Yes, to all of it. I love you, Tommy, and if this is what it takes for you to trust me, then I’m willing to play the perfect gentleman… at least for a while.”
A sigh of relief expelled from between Tom’s lips. And while he was desperate for his lover to take him seriously, he also wanted to remove the remaining tension in the room. Conflict made him uncomfortable, and so, in a gesture of reconciliation, he offered his lover a cheeky smile. “Gentleman, huh? This’ll be interesting.”
Carefully gathering Tom into his arms, Booker placed a loving kiss on top of his head. “Baby, by the time I’ve finished wooing you, you’re gonna be begging me for sex.”
A low chuckle resonated in the back of Tom’s throat. “Game on.”

To be continued...
- 1
- 2
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If You Want My Love, You've Got It