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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.

Chapter List
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The smell of bacon and eggs roused Tom from a deep, coma-like slumber. He lifted his head from the pillow and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he peered at the bedside clock through his long unruly bangs. The red luminous numbers revealed that it was 8.18 a.m. and with a groan, he flopped back against the pillow and buried his face in the downy warmth. He had been asleep for only four hours and he felt thickheaded, hung over and less than ready to start the day. Grabbing hold of the quilt, he pulled it over his head, effectively blocking out the morning sunlight that was streaming in through the partially opened curtains, and with a sigh, he snuggled into the soft mattress and closed his eyes. It was Saturday morning and he could sleep for as long as it took for him to feel human again.
Just as he was beginning to drift off, he felt the mattress depress and a hand pulled back the covers. Screwing his eyes tightly closed against the unwelcome brightness, he threw his arm over his face. “Go away,” he mumbled crossly. “I’m sleeping.”
A light hand traveled down the bare skin of his back, sending tingles down his spine and moments later, Booker’s breathless voice whispered in his ear, “I was gonna offer you bacon and eggs but how ‘bout I offer you something else instead.”
A slow, sleepy smile played over Tom’s lips and lowering his arm, he opened his eyes and gazed up at Booker through heavy lids. “What did you have in mind?”
Booker’s dark eyes lit up and he bit down seductively on his lower lip. “What about a blow job?” he asked somewhat hesitantly.
The thought of Booker’s full lips wrapped around his cock sucking him off made Tom almost instantly hard and any misgivings he felt about rushing into a full-blown relationship with a man recently released from a psychiatric institution instantly left his mind. His eyes flashed with longing and a soft moan escaped his lips. “Fuck yeah.”
Climbing onto the bed, Booker rolled Tom over and slowly pulled down his boxers, revealing his semi-hard erection. Discarding the unwanted material onto the floor, he gazed down at the beautiful body lying before him and his own cock twitched to life. “Fuck you’re beautiful,” he whispered.
Tom’s eyes softened and reaching out, he gently cupped Booker’s face in his palm. “So are you.”
Booker lowered his eyes and shook his head. “No I’m not,” he muttered. “I’m covered in scars. Nobody could find that attractive.”
Lowering his hand, Tom pushed it under the soft black material of Booker’s t-shirt and ran his fingertips over the bumpy ridges that adorned his lover’s torso. “I don’t care about your scars,” he stated in a gentle voice. “In my eyes, you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met.”
A soft pink glow colored Booker’s cheeks and to hide his embarrassment, he waggled his eyebrows mischievously. “I’m sooo gonna make you squirm.”
Tom’s pupils dilated with hot desire and bending up his knees, he spread his legs in readiness. “Do it,” he breathed.
Positioning himself between Tom’s open legs, Booker closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. This was what he had been waiting for; after imagining the moment for so long, he now had the chance to take Tom in his mouth. He would finally be able to savor the taste and uniqueness of his lover’s juices against his tongue and he longed to swallow his essence so they would be as one, forever bound by the salty fluid that represented their masculinity. Tears filled his eyes as he remembered Conan’s sapidity coating his tongue, but he quickly blinked them away. He missed his Daddy so damn much but that was his own sordid secret and one he would never divulge, especially to Tom, because to do so would mean a certain end to their relationship.
Opening his eyes, he pushed all thoughts of Conan from his mind and grinned cheekily down at Tom. “Ready?” he asked and without waiting for an answer, he gently took hold of the base of Tom’s cock and ducking his head, he pressed his lips against the smooth cockhead and kissed it tenderly.
A gasp of pleasure resonated throughout the room and long fingers tangled in his hair. “Again,” Tom moaned softly. “Oh God Dennis, again.”
Smiling in satisfaction, Booker took a different approach and sticking out his tongue, he slowly swept it up the length of the erect shaft before swirling it around the coronal ridge.
“Yesss,” Tom hissed excitedly, his body squirming at the exquisite pleasure that tingled his nerve endings. “Suck me, please suck me.”
Without hesitation, Booker took Tom into his mouth and ran his moist lips up and down the erect shaft whilst moving his hand in synchronized rhythm. “Oh God,” Tom moaned in delight, the erotic sensation releasing psychoactive chemicals in his brain. “That feels… so… good.”
As his lover's unique tasting precum coated his tongue, Booker let out a low moan. The feel of Tom's erection growing in his mouth was intoxicating and his own cock swelled, tenting the material of his boxers. Without breaking tempo, he reached down and releasing his erection, he began to masturbate.
Tom’s movements became more frenetic and thrusting his hips forward, his fingers tangled in Booker’s hair and he started to pant. “Oh God oh God oh God…”
Sensing that Tom was close, Booker moved his mouth back up the long shaft and wrapping his lips around the weeping cockhead, he began to hum.
"FUUUCK!” Tom yelled and his fingers ripped at Booker’s dark hair. “Ahh… ahh… ahh… ahh… ahh… oh God… oh God… oh God… Dennis I’m close… I’m close!”
Hearing Tom’s erotic moans fueled Booker’s needs and his hand moved faster over his own erection. Increasing the pressure of his lips around Tom’s cockhead, he sucked hard and seconds later, warm semen flooded his mouth and his lover’s strangled cry of pleasure sounded in his ears. Swallowing deeply, he delighted in Tom’s saporous juices and with a shudder, he shot forth his orgasm, covering his hand in his own salty fluid.
Moaning softly, he continued to lap at the softening cock in his mouth until he too was limp and lifting his head, he licked his lips and gazed down into Tom’s sated eyes. “I guess breakfast is ruined,” he joked softly.
Tom grinned back lazily at his lover. “Fuck breakfast,” he sighed contentedly and pulling Booker down on top of him, he kissed him tenderly. “That was fucking amazing,” he murmured against his lover’s full lips. “Where did you learn to do that?”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Tom felt Booker’s body stiffen and he immediately realized his mistake. “Jesus Dennis I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t,” Booker muttered and rolling onto the mattress, he stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t want your apology, I know it was a slip of the tongue.”
Placing his palm against Booker’s flushed cheek, Tom gently turned his face so he could look into his tortured eyes. “Yeah it was,” he admitted quietly as he brushed the dark hair from his lover’s face. “Sometimes I forget everything you’ve been through 'cause you’re coping so damn well.”
“Like you,” Booker replied quietly.
Tom raised a questioning eyebrow. “What do you mean? I haven’t—” But the meaning of the words suddenly became clear and he did not finish his sentence. He had dealt with his rape a long time ago and when he looked at Booker, he did not see his rapist, he saw the man he loved. However, it would always be the elephant in the room for both of them and because he did not completely trust his lover, he feared that one day, in a fit of anger, he would spew forth all the rage and pain he kept buried deep inside his soul.
Not wanting to think about the past, he wrapped his arms around Booker and laying his head on his chest, he closed his eyes. “Let’s not talk about what we've been through,” he murmured drowsily.
As Tom drifted off to sleep, Booker continued to stare silently up at the ceiling. His lover had told him on countless occasions that he had dealt with his rape and moved on. But deep in his heart, he knew that one day, something would cause Tom's emotional wounds to rip open. If that day ever happened then they would have no choice but to talk about it, and he feared that would be the beginning of the end. In his mind, he was sure it would be Tom's rape that would eventually tear them apart and he never stopped to think that his own emotional scars could be what signaled the end of their relationship.
**
Three weeks later
Pushing his way through the crowded bar, Doug managed to carry two glasses, a basket of fries and a pitcher of beer without spilling any of the precious amber liquid. Placing the jug down on the table, he grinned at Tom as he passed him the glasses. “Fill ‘em up.”
Tom returned the smile and picking up the pitcher, he filled the glasses to the rim. When Doug sat down, he raised his drink. “To Friday nights.”
Doug picked up his glass and clinking it forcefully against Tom’s, he spilled a large measure of ale onto the table. “To Friday nights!” he reiterated enthusiastically.
After downing a third of his glass, Tom sighed contentedly and leaned back in his chair. “So, how’s things?”
Doug grabbed a handful of fries and crammed them into his mouth. “Okay,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food. “Kinda busy but lots of interesting cases and McCann’s fitted in pretty well.”
Tom tried to keep the envy out of his eyes but he knew he was failing miserably. He missed being a cop and he missed the adrenalin high of working undercover. Being a private investigator was just not the same. The jobs were often boring and he hated working alone. He missed the camaraderie he had experienced at the Chapel and even though it was not Booker’s fault, he sometimes felt resentful that he had given up so much to save the man he loved.
Sensing Tom’s jealousy, Doug made the suggestion both men were silently thinking. “You could always come back.”
Shaking his head, Tom’s lips twitched into a sad smile and he stared into his beer . “No I can’t, too many things have changed.”
Unwilling to let the matter drop, Doug’s mouth set in a firm line. “What you really mean is Booker is more important to you than your own happiness. Jesus Christ Hanson, you gave up everything for him, why do you continue to put him first?”
Tom’s eyes softened. “Because I love him Doug,” he replied simply.
Doug let out a huff of frustration. “Damn it Tommy, you’re holding onto a dream. Booker’s straight and no matter how much you want it, he’s never going to be your boyfriend.”
Heat burned at Tom’s face, turning his cheeks a soft shade of pink and he quickly ducked his head, but not before Doug noticed his embarrassment. Staring at his friend’s bowed head, his eyes widened in shock. “No friggin’ way!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “You and Booker are a couple?”
It was obvious to Tom that any attempt at denial was futile and lifting his head, he ran a shaky hand over his mouth. “Yeah, I guess we are,” he admitted quietly, terrified of what Penhall’s reaction would be. “But it only happened a few weeks ago, before that, we were just friends.”
Doug stared back at Tom open mouthed as he tried to gather his thoughts. The very idea of Tom being with Booker horrified him, not because they were in a homosexual relationship; he was slowly coming to terms with Tom’s bisexuality; but because he did not think Booker was stable and he was terrified for his friend’s safety. However, he knew he needed to be careful what he said because Tom was overly defensive where Booker was concerned.
Taking a deep breath, he managed a weak smile. “That’s great, I’m happy for you, I really am but… Jesus Tommy, have you really thought about this? You admitted to me only a few weeks ago that he’s damaged. Do you think entering into a homosexual relationship is the right thing for a man who has suffered so much at the hands of other men?”
Tom’s dark eyes flashed with anger. “Do you think I’m taking advantage of him?” he asked frostily. “What kind of a man do you think I am? And for the record, I don’t need your fucking permission, I can date whomever I want and it’s none of your damn business!”
Holding his hands out in front of him, Doug tried to diffuse the situation. “Whoa! Back up Hanson, I never said you were taking advantage of him. I’m just looking out for you both, that’s all.”
Tom continued to glare back at Doug but not because he was still angry, but because in his heart, he knew his friend was right. He had ignored all the alarm bells and jumped into a relationship with Booker not because he loved him but because he lusted after him. Love waited but lust never did. It was the cause of many ruined relationships and as much as he hated to admit it, he feared their uncontrollable desire for each other would be what eventually tore them apart.
Staring morosely into his beer, he jumped slightly when a gentle hand rested on his arm. "Sorry," Doug apologized quietly. "I didn't mean to upset you."
Not wanting to ruin their Friday night together, Tom picked up his drink and draining the glass in one gulp, he quickly refilled it. "You didn't," he lied. "I guess I'm just a little sensitive talking about it."
Doug nodded in understanding but deep down, he was still apprehensive about Tom being in a relationship with the man who had raped him.
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To Chase a Feather in the Wind