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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.

Chapter List
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As the sun lowered in the sky, Tom’s room became dim and a cool breeze filtered through the open window, rippling the curtains behind him. He sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at the baggie of cocaine in his hand that he had scored from Thumper five weeks ago. Up until this point, he had managed to resist the urge to use again, but as his depression deepened and his body suffered nightly abuses from the men he sought love from, he found his willpower waning. Cocaine would give him the euphoria and self-confidence he yearned for. Every time he went out on the streets, he went in search of what he perceived to be love. Allowing men to abuse him sexually was what his mind now conceived to be normal, it was what he deserved and it was the only love he knew. He longed to feel cherished, to feel wanted and yet in reality, when the sex was over, he felt nothing but a dull emptiness inside. It was therefore a continuous cycle of searching for what seemed to Tom, to be an unattainable emotion and he concluded that not only was he unlovable he was also incapable of love.
Sighing heavily, he climbed off the bed and secreted the cocaine back in its hiding place. As much as he craved the exhilarating feeling that the drug gave him, part of him was scared to enter into that scene again. The memories of his withdrawal sickness were still too vivid and this time, he would not have Dennis by his side helping him through it. The thought of Dennis brought tears to his eyes and he choked back a sob. Covering his face in his hands, he sat on the bed and wept uncontrollably for the life he had walked away from so easily. If only he had stayed that night, he would have got Dennis’ message from the hospital… if only he had returned Dennis’ phone call… if only… if only… if only.
Wiping his face with his hands, Tom stood up and stared out the window at the bustling night traffic below. Friday nights were always a good night to go out, the city was teeming with horny men looking for some action after a long working week. More importantly, maybe tonight would be his night. Maybe tonight he would finally find love.
**
Switching off his office light, Dennis locked the door and walked down the hallway to the elevator. He stared at the piece of paper in his hand on which he had scrawled the address of the boarding house where Tom now lived. It had only taken him a few hours to attain the information but he had waited almost a week before deciding to act upon it. Part of the reason for his hesitancy was George. He felt bad that he was lying to his lover so early in their relationship. But he was unsure as to what George’s reaction would be when he realized Dennis still thought about Tom and worried about his wellbeing. His other reason for taking his time was that he was concerned how Tom would react when he made contact. Therefore, after many days of mulling the idea over in his mind, he made the decision to do some undercover surveillance first. He knew it was wrong to spy on Tom but he could think of no other option. He needed to know one way or the other and if he saw there was nothing to be concerned about, then and only then would he let the matter drop and get on with his life.
Exiting the lift, he walked over to his car and climbed behind the wheel. The boarding house was only five blocks away but he did not want to use his own repaired Cadillac in case Tom recognized it. Instead, he had arranged to borrow George’s Mercedes on the pretext that his car was in the shop. He was creating a web of lies and he felt another pang of guilt but he quickly pushed the feeling aside. Driving out of the car park, he stopped five hundred meters down the road and parked outside of his local mechanic’s shop. George would drop him back off there on Monday morning and he would never suspect that Dennis’ car had remained on the road the whole time.
Having arranged for his lover to pick him up outside his office, Dennis quickly sprinted back up the road and waited outside his building. His pretense for needing the car was that he was on a stakeout, which was true, to some extent. George did not need to know that it was Tom whom he was staking out. Even though he felt remorseful for lying, Booker felt justified in his actions. If all went well, in two days time the deceit would be over and no one would be any the wiser.
He jumped slightly when he heard a car horn blare and looking around, he saw George parked down the road waving at him. Smiling, he waved back and walked over to the car. The timing was perfect, the sun had just started to disappear behind the horizon and by the time he reached the boarding house it would be dark and if Tom went out, he would be able to follow him undetected under the cover of darkness.
**
Leaving the boarding house, Tom turned left and headed west towards his old neighborhood. The bruising on his face had faded but his body still bore the scars of the whipping he had received. It had been nearly a week since he had ventured out, his body had needed that time to heal but he now felt ready to get back on the streets. He hungered for sex, he craved it just as much as he craved the pain that came with it. But he knew he needed to be careful, to not let his face bear the brunt of the beating he knew he would receive tonight. It would raise too many questions, especially with his therapist who seemed suspicious when he recited his story about a mugger. He was starting to realize that she was much smarter than he had originally given her credit for and if he were to continue to keep his nightlife a secret, he would have to be cautious about what he told her.
Stopping on his usual street corner, he leaned casually against a light post and waited. It did not take long before a young, casually dressed man stopped and spoke to him. “Are you the guy who likes it rough?” the man murmured, leaning in close so that passersby did not overhear him.
“Maybe,” Tom smiled teasingly. “Depends on how much you want to pay me.”
Putting his arm around Tom’s shoulders, the man whispered in his ear. “I’ll pay you a hundred a fifty, but I’m telling you, there will be blood and I want to hear you scream.”
Tom’s heart rate intensified and his hands started to tremble. He knew he was entering into dangerous territory every time he agreed to rough sex and that there was always a possibility he might not make it through the night. But he was past caring. It was not the money that kept him coming out night after night, it was the sex and the pain that came with it. They were the only two things that made him feel alive. If he died at the hands of a john then so be it, he had nothing to live for anyway.
Looking into the man’s eyes, Tom nodded his head. “Okay, but I want a hotel room with a shower so I can clean up afterwards.”
“Deal,” the man agreed. Taking Tom by the arm, he maneuvered through the busy sidewalk and eventually stopped outside of a cheap hotel that Tom had used many times. “Will this do?” the man asked.
“Sure,” Tom replied quietly. “As long as I get my shower.”
Walking into the dimly lit lobby, the man paid for a room whilst Tom stood staring back out at the street, watching the busy Friday night crowds. He saw a group of young men walk past, all dressed up for a night on the town, chatting excitedly as they headed towards their destination. Sadness filled Hanson’s heart and he turned away. That had been him, once upon a time when his life had been simple and carefree.
Sighing heavily, he followed the man up the staircase and waited as he unlocked the room that would become his torture chamber.
**
Booker checked his watch and when he saw it was past midnight, he decided to call it a night. Either he had missed Tom leaving the boarding house or Tom had stayed in for the night. There was no point waiting around, if Tom had gone out and he saw him come home, he did not want to make contact there and then. His mission was purely surveillance, to see what Tom was doing with his life and to make sure he was okay.
Turning the key in the ignition, he drove towards George’s apartment. He would come out again after he had some sleep and when he had spent some time with his lover. If he did not catch sight of Tom during the second stakeout, he would let the matter drop. It was not as though Tom was living in isolation, he lived in a house full of people and if something were wrong, surely someone there would notice.
**
Tom lay naked on the hotel bed, his wrists and ankles bound tightly to the scratched wooden bedposts. A ball gag was in his mouth and his eyes stared in blind panic at the naked man who sat astride his thighs holding a bloody knife in his hand. “Do you want some more?” the man murmured, pressing the blade against Tom’s chest and opening up a bloody wound.
Screaming into the gag, Tom’s body thrashed violently as the knife sliced into his skin. He realized he was in real danger this time and he was powerless against his attacker. He screamed again when the man carved into the tender flesh just above his pubic hair. “NO! STOP! PLEASE STOP!” he shrieked, his voice muffled by the binding in his mouth. “NO ME HAGAS DAÑO! NO ME HAGAS DAÑO!” DON’T HURT ME! DON’T HURT ME!
“You like Spanish huh?” the man laughed.
Tears of pain and terror coursed down Tom’s cheeks. “No more!” he tried to cry out as snot bubbled out of his nose. “Please!”
Reaching behind him, the man sliced the ropes that bound Tom’s ankles. Turning back around, he held the knife to Tom’s throat, pressing down hard so that blood bubbled to the surface. “I’m gonna bend your knees up and if you move an inch, I’m gonna slit your throat, understand?” he whispered menacingly.
Tom’s eyes grew wide and he nodded his head. He watched as the man spread open his legs and bent up his knees. “Now we’re gonna have some fun,” the man laughed as he lightly traced the blade down Tom’s torso and around his perineum. “I could split you open,” the man threatened quietly, rubbing his free hand over Tom’s bloody stomach. “Or maybe I could just fuck you ‘til you bleed.” The man moved the knife back against Tom’s throat and pressed it against the tender skin whilst he positioned himself between Hanson’s legs.
Screwing his eyes closed in pain, Tom screamed into the gag and his body struggled to break free. But he abruptly stopped moving when he felt the tip of the knife press deeper into his neck. His body froze and he sobbed uncontrollably as the man pounded his cock in and out of his battered body. He was terrified that he was destined to die this way, lying bloodied and broken on the bed in the seedy hotel room that had become his second home. His thoughts turned to Dennis and he wanted desperately to thank him for trying to help him and to tell him that nothing that had happened was his fault, that he was to blame and that he was sorry.
It was then that he realized that he did not want to die.
The knife moved from Tom’s neck but a large hand immediately replaced it. As the man squeezed his fingers around his throat, Tom gasped for breath. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting the man’s face to be the last thing he saw. As his airway closed, he struggled beneath the man’s grasp until his body went limp and he fell into blackness.
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Over the Hills and Far Away