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To Chase a Feather in the Wind	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 1696 -:- 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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Standing beneath the warm flow of water, Booker's fingers toyed with his growing erection. He had been living with Tom for a month and although it had been a difficult transition, he was slowly starting to feel at home in the apartment. But spending so much time with his friend had its drawbacks, just looking at him caused his pulse to quicken and blood to rush straight to his cock, leaving him feeling hard and unfulfilled. His only privacy was in the bathroom and he spent every morning gratifying his needs, teasing his cock to life as he imagined Tom buried deep inside him.
A low moan of pleasure escaped his lips as his fist pumped rapidly over his erect shaft. He was close and he longed to feel the explosive pleasure that jangled his nerves when he reached his climax. But he knew the euphoria would only last for a matter of seconds, and then once again, he would be left feeling empty, bereft and yearning the feel of Tom’s touch.
Throwing back his head, he let out a strangled cry as his orgasm shot forth and warm semen coated his fingers. As anticipated, a deep feeling of elation sent shivers throughout his naked body, and standing beneath the warm cascading water, he reveled in the sensation. Moments later, the euphoric feeling was replaced by a chasmic void and with a sigh, he turned off the faucets and stepped dripping from the shower.
Toweling himself dry, he came to a decision. He was tired of feeling as though his life was on hold. He wanted Tom in every sense of the word, as his friend, his partner and his lover, but he knew it was an unattainable dream, a delusional fantasy because it was obvious now that Tom was nothing like him, he could never fall in love with the man who had raped him.
With a sigh, he wrapped the towel around his waist and gazed at his reflection in the mirror. If he wanted to feel normal again, he needed to become the Dennis Booker of old and that meant pushing all thoughts of Tom from his mind and finding himself a woman.
**
That evening
The smell of aftershave wafted into the room and turning in his seat, Tom watched as Booker emerged from the bedroom dressed in a dark green button down shirt, tight black jeans and boots. “Wow,” he exclaimed with a smile, “why are you so dressed up?”
Booker lowered his eyes and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “I’ve got a date.”
Tom’s heart plummeted and clenching his fists, he stared back at Booker incredulously. “A date? With who?”
A deep blush stained Booker’s cheeks. “An old girlfriend,” he muttered and desperate to escape Tom’s penetrating stare, he hurried across the room and snatched up his keys.
A deep wave of jealousy engulfed Tom, crushing his chest and making it difficult for him to breathe. Standing up, he intercepted Booker before he reached the door and grabbing hold of his arm, he spun him around. “What girlfriend?” he asked in a strained voice.
Not wanting to explain his motivation for ringing a woman who had not been in his life for two years, Booker pulled angrily away from Tom’s grasp. “Why?” he inquired crossly. “What difference does it make to you?”
At that moment, Tom wanted to scream that it made all the difference, that he was in love with him and he did not want some ex girlfriend giving him the loving that he so desperately wanted to shower upon him. But the words stuck in his throat and turning away, he walked over to the couch and sitting down, he stared blankly at the TV. “No difference,” he shot back sullenly. “Have a great time.”
Booker hesitated for a moment, unsure whether he was making the right decision. But when Tom remained silent, his eyes fixed stubbornly of the television screen, he opened the door and exited the apartment.
**
The smell of whiskey woke Tom from a troubled sleep and opening his eyes, he saw Booker sitting on the edge of the bed. Rubbing a hand over his face, he squinted at the clock and was surprised to see it was almost morning. “Dennis, are you okay?” he muttered sleepily.
Reaching out an unsteady hand, Booker gently caressed Tom’s face. “You’re veeery pretty,” he slurred drunkenly. “Do ya wanna kiss me?”
Tom’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “W-What?” he stuttered.
Smiling seductively, Booker pulled back the sheet and trailed a fingertip down Tom’s naked torso. Tom sucked in his breath as light fingers began to massage his cock through the thin cotton of his boxers. “Dennis stop,” he gasped in a breathless voice, “this isn’t right.”
Leaning forward, Booker pressed his lips against Hanson’s full pout. “Aww, c’mon Tommy, don’t pretend you don’t want it. I’ve seen the way you look at me, the way you touch yourself at night when you think I’m sleeping.”
A look of mortification passed over Tom’s face. “I-I don’t!” he spluttered, but even he could hear the lie in his voice.
“Sure you do,” Dennis breathed enticingly and ducking his head, he nipped and sucked at the taut skin of Tom’s throat. “You want me… I know it, you know it and all you have to do is lie there and—
The similarity to the words that had preceded his rape caused Tom’s chest to constrict in panic and he shoved Booker forcefully away from him. “STOP!”
Booker sat back and staring down at Hanson, he pushed his lower lip into a petulant pout. "You thought I was beautiful once," he muttered despondently. “What’s changed?”
Tom ran a shaky hand over his mouth. His erection strained against his boxers, aching to be released and he longed to give into temptation and let Booker seduce him. But hearing the words that were so similar to the ones uttered in the same room almost a year before had brought back unwanted memories and he came to the sudden understanding that although he loved Dennis, he did not completely trust him.
As he studied Tom’s startled face, Booker’s dark eyes widened as a slow realization dawned upon him. “Do I frighten you?” he asked in disbelief. When Tom remained silent, his voice rose in agitation. “DO I?”
Alarmed by Booker’s increasing hysteria, Tom shook his head back and forth. “N-No,” he stammered. “It’s just… you surprised me and—”
“BULLSHIT!” Dennis yelled and scrambling from the bed, he began to pace around the small room. “I saw it in your eyes! You were terrified I was going to rape you again!”
“Dennis no!” Tom exclaimed and getting to his feet, he approached his friend. “It was just—”
With lightning speed, Booker’s hand shot out and grabbing hold of Hanson’s upper arm, he held it in a vice-like grip. “Do you trust me?” he asked through gritted teeth, his face just inches from Tom’s.
Tom’s dark eyes widened in fear but he remained calm. “No,” he admitted in a strained voice, “not completely.”
Booker let go of Hanson’s arm and turned away. “I didn’t think so,” he murmured miserably.
Afraid that he would lose Dennis if he did not make his feelings clear, Tom stepped forward and placing an arm around his waist, he gently turned him so they faced each other. “It takes time to repair a trust that’s been broken,” he explained quietly, “but you’re right, I do want you… I think about you constantly and—”
“Then why did you push me away?” Booker asked moodily. “If you want me in the same way I want you, why fight it?”
Lowering his eyes, Tom stared at the floor. “Because I don’t think you really do want me,” he muttered sadly.
Booker frowned and stepping back, he gave Tom an angry look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Do you think I don’t know my own mind?”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Tom let out a heavy sigh. “I think you’re confused,” he confessed quietly. “I think you think you want to be in a homosexual relationship but the reality is, you’re not gay and once you find a woman you’re attracted to, you’ll realize she’s who you want, not me.”
Memories of the past few hours flooded into Dennis’ mind and he blinked back tears of humiliation. “Do you want to know what happened on my date?” he asked in a strained voice and without waiting for an answer, he spilled forth his inner agony. “She tried to get me aroused and I felt nothing. NOTHING! She laughed at me and called me a freak before kicking me out. But all I have to do is look at you and I’m rock hard! So don’t tell me what I’m feeling isn’t real because you have no fucking idea how difficult it is being around you and not being able to have you the way I want to!”
Shocked that Booker's yearnings mirrored his own, Tom stared back open mouthed. “You really feel that way?”
When Booker did not answer, Tom stood up and reaching out a comforting hand, he placed it on his shoulder. "Dennis I'm so sorry,” he whispered, "but what she said isn't—”
Recoiling from the contact, Booker pushed Tom away. "Don't touch me," he snapped. “You’ve made your feelings clear. You look at me and you see a rapist, simple.”
Tom began to lose patience and he scowled back at Booker. “When the hell did I say that?” he retorted angrily. “I just finished telling you that I have feelings for you. Yeah, okay, I have some trust issues that I probably need to work on but the real reason I pushed you away is because I was protecting you!”
Booker stared morosely down at the floor. He felt sick to his stomach from the alcohol and the realization that he might have lost Tom’s friendship forever. “Do you want me to leave?” he muttered in a barely audible voice.
A thousand thoughts whirled throughout Tom’s mind but Dennis leaving was not one of them. Turning away, he walked towards the door. “Of course I don’t want you to leave,” he sighed, “But I think we need some time a part.”
“Meaning?” Booker asked quietly.
“I’ve got a case and I’ve been putting off the trip to ‘Frisco because I didn’t want to leave you alone,” Tom explained calmly. “So if you’re comfortable staying here without me…”
It was the moment Booker had been dreading, the abandonment. He always knew it would happen eventually but he had expected it to be later rather than sooner. However, as much as he feared the thought of being alone, he would not stand in the way of Tom’s job. His friend had given up so much to help him and he refused to ruin his life more than he already had.
A sudden weariness overcame him and walking over to his mattress, he sat down. “Sure,” he replied with a forced smile. “I think you’re right, some time apart will do us both good.”
“Okay then,” Tom murmured and not knowing what else to say, he turned away and walked into the bathroom.
**
Four hours later, Dennis sat slouched on the couch, his only comfort a half empty bottle of whiskey. Lifting the glass to his lips with an unsteady hand, he gulped down a large measure of the amber fluid. The woody flavor flooded his taste buds and he sighed heavily as his throat burned and the warmth spread throughout his chest. His fingers trailed over his bare torso, the soft pads registering every scar on his damaged body and tears of shame filled his eyes. He had allowed dozens of men to abuse him and he had no one to blame but himself. If he had even an ounce of Tom’s fortitude, he could have overcome the pain and suffering of his initial rapes and he would not be the broken man he was today. He had given into his torment and the end result was that he was alone, with no family, friends or chance of employment. For the briefest of moments, he had considered phoning Doctor Mayberry, but he was too ashamed to admit that he was a failure in the outside world. He was seeing a therapist at a community mental health center once a week, but he felt no connection to the man and so he talked about random things without actually disclosing the depth of his despair. He could not afford to see a private therapist and he did not feel comfortable asking Tom for money. He was already living rent-free and he paid very little towards food and other necessities. His disability pension did not stretch far and he knew how lucky he was to have Tom taking care of him except in reality, it made everything that much harder.
Emptying his glass, he immediately refilled it and stared blankly at the muted television. Tom would be away for two days and during that time, he had no plans except to numb his mind with alcohol.
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To Chase a Feather in the Wind