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Over the Hills and Far Away	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 2103 -:- 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.

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As Booker drove through the busy L.A. streets, Tom became increasingly quiet. He had left the hospital in a jubilant mood but as he stared out of the open window, the sights and sounds brought back painful memories and his stomach churned. Winding up the window, he stared straight ahead and concentrated on not throwing up his lunch. He had spent nearly two weeks confined within the safety of the hospital and he had forgotten how harsh and noisy the streets outside really were. But it was the smell that evoked the most vivid memories. The stench of car fumes and decaying food had assaulted his nostrils the moment they left the hospital and he briefly wondered if he had ever breathed in clean air.

Dennis cast a worried glance over at Tom. Reaching out, he laid a hand on his knee and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, concerned at how pale Tom’s face was.

Hanson’s eyes bulged and he clamped a hand over his mouth. “Pull over!” he gasped.

Booker veered to the curb and hit the brakes. A volley of car horns sounded from behind, as Tom threw open the door and vomited into the gutter. Several passersby cried out in disgust and Dennis felt like yelling at them that it was not Hanson’s fault. Instead, he reached over and gently rubbed Tom’s back. A minute passed before Hanson sat up and closed the door. Wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, he gave Dennis a watery smile. “I’d forgotten the smell,” he confessed. “I guess it brought back some unwanted memories.”

Booker gave him a tender look. “Are you okay or do you want to sit awhile?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” Tom muttered. “I really just want to get home.”

Dennis gave a nod of understanding and flicking on the car’s indicator, he slowly pulled out into the traffic. Twenty minutes later, he drove into the underground car park of his apartment building and parked in his space. Turning off the engine, he turned to face Tom. “Home sweet home,” he grinned and Tom managed a small smile in return. They caught the lift and alighted at the fourth floor. Once again, Hanson’s mind filled with memories and he felt overcome with emotion. Dennis unlocked the door and pushed it open so Tom could enter. As he stepped over the threshold, tears filled Hanson's eyes but he quickly blinked them away. He did not want Dennis worrying unduly and he wanted his home coming to be a happy event, not a painful one. He owed Booker that much.

At the sound of the door closing, he turned and gave Dennis a forced smile. “It’s great to be back,” he enthused, hoping that Booker would not see through his charade.

But Dennis was far more astute than Tom gave him credit for. Stepping forward, he placed a light hand on Hanson’s shoulder. “It’s okay Tommy, I understand that this is difficult for you.”

Tom’s façade immediately crumbled and he let out a soft sigh. “I’m just so tired,” he replied in a quiet voice.

Taking hold of Tom’s arm, Dennis gently steered him into the bedroom. When Hanson began to protest about taking the bed, Dennis immediately hushed him. “We’ll work out the sleeping arrangements later, but for now, lie down and try and get some sleep.

Grateful to be able to rest his aching body, Tom stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers and lay down on top of the covers. The apartment was warm and he did not want to mess up the bed. Settling back against the plump pillow, his eyelids grew heavy and the muted sounds from behind the closed door gradually became more distant. Eventually his breathing slowed and he fell asleep.

**

Checking his refrigerator, Dennis pondered over what to make for dinner. He had let his food supply dwindle, as most nights he had either eaten at the hospital or grabbed a burger on the way home. Remembering Tom’s love of pizza, he decided to wait until Hanson awoke to ask him if that was what he fancied. Pizza was easy and he could do a food shop in the morning and cook something healthier that evening.

Sitting down at the table, he started opening his mail. He had let so many day-to-day jobs slide since Tom had been in the hospital and he needed to start getting organized again. The last thing he needed was to forget to pay the power bill and have his electricity turned off. He began sorting the letters into two piles; needs immediate attention and not important. As he sliced through an envelope with the letter opener, he heard an agonizing yell from the bedroom. Jumping out of his seat, he ran the short distance across the living room and threw open the door to find Tom doubled over in pain. “Oh God… Oh God!” Hanson groaned, his face deathly pale. “Oh Dennis it hurts… it hurts!”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Booker gathered Tom into his arms and held him close, knowing that the pain would eventually ease. He lightly caressed Tom’s hair and little by little, the symptoms subsided. Gently laying Tom back onto the pillow, he smiled down at him. “Feeling better?”

The color in Tom’s face started to return and he nodded. “It’s just a stomach ache now,” he muttered. “I’ll be fine.”

A long forgotten memory floated into Booker’s mind and he smiled at the image it conjured. “My mom used to rub my belly whenever I had a stomach pain,” he chuckled. “And somehow it always made me feel better.”

Tom remained silent for a moment before lifting up his t-shirt. “It’s worth a try,” he said softly.

Booker’s heart rate quickened as he stared down at Tom’s flat stomach. Slowly reaching out, he placed a trembling hand against Tom’s warm skin and gently began to rub his abdomen in a slow circular motion. Hanson’s eyes closed and he let out a faint sigh. “Mmm, that feels good,” he murmured. As Dennis’ hand continued to caress his naked skin, Tom felt a stirring in his groin and a soft moan escaped his lips. With each swirling motion of Dennis’ hand over his stomach, his cock hardened a little more and he yearned for release. Opening his eyes, he stared up into Dennis bewildered face. He knew he was putting Booker in a difficult position but he wanted it… hell, he needed it. Lifting an unsteady hand, he placed it on top of Booker’s and gently pushed it downwards towards his growing erection. “Please,” he begged, his eyes filled with longing. “I want to feel something… I want to feel loved. I want to feel something just for me.”

Dennis breath hitched in his throat and he gazed down at Hanson with a worried expression. “Tommy, I don’t know if this is such a good—“

“Please Dennis,” Tom moaned. “Please touch me… I want you to touch me.”

Without giving himself time to think about what he was doing, Dennis took a deep breath and slid his fingers into the waistband of Tom’s boxers, gently releasing his semi-erect cock. Hanson let out a soft cry and his hips lifted up off the mattress. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Dennis’ fingers gently tugged at Tom’s cock, bringing it to life. Hanson’s hands grabbed at the bedding and he squirmed beneath Booker’s touch. “Oh Jesus,” he groaned with pleasure. “That feels so fucking good.” Dennis’ hand started to pump faster and Tom became more vocal as his orgasm rose. “Oh God! Oh God! Oh sí… oh sí… oh sí… me gusta… me gusta!”

Hearing Tom utter the Spanish words brought Booker back to reality with a thud and he started to panic. But it was too late to stop. Tom’s hips lifted off the bed and he cried out in delight as he ejaculated over Dennis’ fingers and onto his own stomach. Booker stared down in horror, unable to believe what he had just done. Seeing Booker’s dismayed expression, Tom threw an arm over his face and burst into tears. Dennis sat staring at his hand, his mind not wanting to comprehend what had just happened. Tom had only been in his care for a few hours and already he had taken advantage of his confused state of mind. His lust for Hanson was too strong and he had been unable to push temptation aside. Once again, he had failed his friend.

“Why d-do I keep f-fucking everything u-up?” Tom wept, his chest heaving heavily with emotion. “I’m s-sorry Dennis… I’m s-so f-fucking sorry!”

Grabbing a discarded towel from the floor, Booker wiped his sticky hand before gently cleaning up the mess on Tom’s stomach. Folding the towel in half, he laid it across Tom’s waist, covering his nakedness. Lying down on the bed so he was facing Tom, he gently brushed the sobbing man’s hair from his eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong Tommy,” he soothed. “I wanted to touch you, I’ve wanted to touch you since I first met you. I’m the one to blame, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. You’re still very confused and I should have known that.”

Tom’s tears gradually subsided and he propped himself up on his elbow and stared deep into Booker’s eyes. “I’m not confused,” he replied quietly, a soft pout forming on his full lips. “I knew exactly what I wanted.”

Dennis’ breathing intensified. “You did?”

A light flush tinged Tom’s cheeks and he lowered his gaze. “Every man I’ve been with has treated me like a whore,” he whispered. “You treat me with love and respect.” A long silence stretched out between them before the hint of a shy smile played over Tom’s lips. “Are you in love with me Dennis?”

This was the moment Booker had dreamed about, but now that it had finally arrived, he had no idea what to say. Yes he was in love with Tom but would admitting it be a help or a hindrance to his friend’s recovery? His mind was in turmoil, the pros and cons of declaring his feelings spinning frantically around in his brain. Then, for the briefest of moments, there was a burst of clarity. It was simple; he had made a promise never to lie to Tom again. A bible verse from his childhood suddenly popped into his mind: Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free. It was then that Dennis knew what to do.

Placing his fingers underneath Tom’s chin, he gently tilted his face so they were once again making eye contact. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and he wondered if Tom’s was racing just as rapidly. “Yes Tommy,” he breathed. “I’m in love with you.”

Tom’s blush deepened and he gave a lopsided smile. “I think I might be falling in love with you too,” he replied quietly. “But I don’t know what that means… I mean… what do we do now?”

This time Dennis had the answer immediately. “We take it slow,” he murmured, leaning over and kissing Tom on the forehead. “The most important thing is for you to get well.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t like you when we first met,” Tom teased cheekily.

Laughing aloud, Dennis punched him in the arm. “Asshole,” he replied good-naturedly. “I guess you’ll never let me forget that, will you?”

Tom grinned back, but his face suddenly looked tired. Rolling onto his back, he sighed heavily. “I hate feeling like shit.”

Sitting up, Dennis trailed a finger lovingly down Tom’s cheek. “Give it time baby, it’s only been a few weeks.” Climbing off the bed, he pulled back the covers. “C’mon, get some rest and then we can think about dinner.”

Tucking himself back into his boxers, Hanson crawled under the sheets. “Pizza?” he murmured, closing his eyes.

Booker smiled. “Pizza it is.” Walking out of the room, he softly closed the door behind him. Sitting down on the couch, he contemplated pouring himself a stiff drink to calm his nerves but he decided against it. Tom was a recovering drug-addict and he did not want Hanson replacing cocaine and heroin with alcohol as a means of escaping reality. He made a mental note to get rid of the beers and bottles of wine in his refrigerator. He did not want to leave any temptations around the house for Tom.

Leaning back against the cushions, he placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. He immediately thought about what had happened in the bedroom and a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. The feel of Tom’s erection between his fingers had been exhilarating and he longed to explore Hanson’s body further. A frown creased his forehead when he remembered Tom crying out the Spanish words just before he climaxed. It was obvious that he still suffered a deep mental scarring from his time in El Salvador, which was not always apparent on the surface. Dennis made the decision to encourage Tom to talk about the horror two-year period of his life with his therapist in the hope that eventually, he would be able to heal the emotional trauma he had suffered.

Booker's mind returned to his promise to take things slow. Tom’s emotional state was still extremely fragile and he did not want the pressures of a relationship interfering with his recovery. They had probably made a huge mistake entering into an affair so early in Tom’s rehabilitation but it had happened and there was no turning back. He just hoped that this time, there would be no hurdles blocking Tom’s way to finding happiness.

Needing to give his mind a break from the mind-blowing revelation that he and Tom were finally on the road to becoming a couple, Dennis stood up and went back to sorting through his mail. An hour later he had everything organized and looking at the clock, he realized he was hungry. Walking over to the closed bedroom door, he knocked softly and turned the handle. Tom lay on his side sleeping peaceful. Dennis felt torn between letting Hanson sleep and waking him so he could eat. Deciding that Tom really needed to start gaining some weight, he moved quietly over to the bed and sat down next to Hanson’s prone body.

When the mattress depressed, Tom woke with a start, his eyes wide with fear. Seeing Dennis, his expression relaxed and he gave an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I guess I’m still a little jumpy.”

Stroking his hand over Tom’s tousled hair, Dennis gave him a loving look. “That’s okay, it’s to be expected.” Rubbing a strand of Tom’s hair through his fingers, he smiled cheerfully. “Hungry?” he asked.

Tom nodded. Sitting up, he rubbed his fingers over his eyes. “And thirsty.”

Dennis stood up. “C’mon then, get dressed and I’ll order the pizza.”

Forty-five minutes later, they were sitting on the couch together, eating a pepperoni pie. Dennis was slightly concerned to see how little Tom ate but he decided not to push the point. When they had finished, Tom put a hand over his mouth and stifled a yawn. He still suffered from bouts of insomnia and he felt permanently tired, even when he did manage to sleep. Standing up, he gazed at Dennis awkwardly. “Um, I think I’ll call it night. I’ll take the couch and you can have your bed back.”

Standing up, Dennis cleared away the remnants of their meal. “You take the bed,” he called over his shoulder, not wanting to make a big deal of the situation. “I’m happy with the couch, it means I can watch TV.”

Following Dennis into the kitchen, Tom laid a hand on his shoulder. “We could both share the bed,” he murmured. “I mean… if you want to.”

Booker’s stomach flip-flopped and he gave Tom a gentle smile. “I thought we agreed we’d take it slow.”

Tom’s cheeks flushed pink and his lower lip protruded into a soft pout. “I don’t want to sleep alone,” he mumbled. “I want to feel you next to me.”

Sensing Tom’s humiliation at his confession, Booker tenderly caressed his cheek. “Sure Tommy, whatever you want.”

Toeing the floor self-consciously, Tom gave lopsided smile. “Okay, well goodnight.”

“Night,” Dennis replied and he watched Hanson enter the bedroom and close the door. In an effort to get the thought of Tom sleeping in his bed out of his mind, he busied himself tidying up the kitchen. When he had washed and dried the dishes, he sat down in front of the TV and attempted to lose himself in a black and white movie.

After half an hour, he sighed in frustration and switched off the television. Kicking off his boots, he carefully opened the bedroom door and padded softly across the floor. He could hear Hanson’s soft breathing and he silently undressed down to his boxers and t-shirt. Pulling back the bedclothes, he slid between the cool sheets and lay on his back with one hand behind his head. He felt movement next to him and he flinched when he felt Tom’s arm circle his waist and snuggle in close. “Hold me,” Tom murmured sleepily.

Placing an arm around Tom, Dennis pulled him close so that Hanson’s head rested on his chest. “Tócame,” Tom muttered and Dennis’ heart rate quickened at the memory of the word. Slowly lifting his hand, he laid it on top of Tom’s head and gently began to caress his hair. “Mmm, me gusta,” Tom mumbled as his breathing slowed and within moments, he was fast asleep.

Dennis lay wide-awake, staring at the ceiling. He was terrified at how quickly he had become aroused when Tom had snuggled against him and started speaking Spanish. His semi-erect cock longed to be touched but he ignored it. It bothered him that Spanish speaking Tom elicited such a strong desire with him.

It was then that he realized that taking things slow with Hanson was not going to be as easy as he first thought.
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Over the Hills and Far Away