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Beneath a Heart of Darkness	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 4657 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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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Once inside the inner sanctum of his bedroom, Booker ran a shaky hand through his dark hair. His confrontation with Tom had left him feeling confused and more than a little guilty. He had thought his affection for his fellow officer was a thing of the past, but he now realized his devotion was as powerful as ever before. For the briefest of moments, he had relished in the sensation of his friend writhing beneath him, locked within the sexual energy flowing from their two bodies, while savoring the uniqueness of Tom’s vibrant juices. But the intensity of their coupling had been fleeting, destroyed by memories of rape and abuse, leaving them both feeling resentful and unfulfilled.
With a sigh, his eyes focused on the naked man lying asleep on his bed. Jorge could give him the physical love he so desperately craved, but not the emotional attachment he longed for in a partner. After suffering years of sexual exploitation, the young pool boy was both mentally and socially impaired, and although Booker's feelings were genuine, he could not see himself engaging in a long-term relationship with someone so emotionally damaged. However, as his gaze roved hungrily over the sleeping man’s bronzed flesh, he wondered what real harm it would do to succumb to temptation just for one night. After all, Jorge had given out all the right signals, and Booker was tired of always being the protector. For once, he wanted to forget about everyone else, give in to his selfish needs and receive the comfort he so desperately craved without guilt or fear of reprisal. He just wanted to feel loved.
Therefore, with his mind firmly made up, he started to undress. But just as he pulled his tee shirt over his head, the door swung open, and in walked Tom.
Shock animated both men’s faces, but Tom’s expression soon turned to one of complete devastation, and without uttering a word, he stumbled from the room.
“Hanson, wait!” Booker cried out, and throwing his discarded tee shirt to the floor, he hurried after his friend. “I can explain!”
Spinning around, Tom confronted Booker, his eyes blazing with a mixture of hurt and anger. “EXPLAIN? EXPLAIN? WHAT’S TO EXPLAIN?” he shrieked, his hands waving crazily in front of his face. “YOU PIN ME AGAINST A WALL AND DRY HUMP ME WHEN ALL THE TIME YOUR FUCKING BOYFRIEND IS IN THE OTHER ROOM! JESUS CHRIST, BOOKER, EVEN FOR YOU THAT’S AN ALL-TIME LOW.”
“AND ONCE AGAIN, YOU’RE JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS!” Booker yelled, the awkwardness of his predicament immediately putting him on the defensive. “SO WHY DON’T YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET ME EXPLAIN!”
Resentment continued to shine from Tom’s brown eyes, but his explosive anger subsided, the loss of outrage leaving him feeling shaky and neurotic. “What’s to explain?” he whispered. “You played me, you made me believe you were in love with me, and when my feelings…” But before he could humiliate himself any further, his voice trailed off, and he shuffled uncomfortably, his gaze lowering to the floor.
Booker’s heart hammered in his chest, and his palms grew sweaty with nervous excitement. “When your feelings what?” he asked expectantly, his expressive eyes dancing with impatience.
Tom’s gaze remained firmly fixed on the toes of Booker’s boots. “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled into his chest. “Not anymore.”
Sensing he was about to lose Tom forever, Booker reached out and taking hold of his trembling hand, he gently squeezed his fingers. “It does matter. You just need to let me—”
“Dennis?”
Both Hanson and Booker turned toward the sound of the hesitant voice. Jorge stood in the bedroom doorway, his dark eyes blurred with sleep. There was a childlike innocence in his unabashed nakedness, but for Tom, it was a flagrant display of exhibitionism, and he lowered his gaze again, his cheeks flaming red. But Booker showed no signs of embarrassment, and walking across the room, he laid his palm against the young Latino’s sleep-flushed cheek. “It’s okay, Jorge. We’re only talking. Go back to bed.”
Jorge’s eyes narrowed as he studied Tom’s partially hidden face. “Is that Tom?” he asked quietly, his lower lip pushing into a soft pout.
“Yes, it is,” Booker replied gently. “But now’s not the time for introductions. Go back to bed and I’ll—”
The loud slam of a door cut Booker off mid-sentence. He didn’t need to turn around to know Tom had left, the smug glint in Jorge’s eyes relayed the information as effectively as a public newscast. For a fraction of a second, he considered running after his friend, but he was too weary, and he honestly did not know how to begin to explain his situation with Jorge. It was a delicate issue, and after Tom’s near slip-up, he needed time to think, otherwise, he risked jeopardizing their relationship before it had even begun.
“C’mon,” he invited softly, his arm wrapping companionably around Jorge’s shoulders. “Let’s go to bed.”
Jorge’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk. He had learned a lot about subtle manipulation from Ingram Holland, and he’d be damned if he would lose Booker to another man before he had a chance to claim him as his own.
**
The following morning
The sound of knocking wrenched Tom from the violence of his nightmare, and jerking forcibly awake, he bolted upright. Panic constricted his lungs, and he gasped for breath, his fingers clutching frantically at the rumpled bed sheet beneath him. Even in consciousness, the horror of his visions continued to plague him, mocking him with their ability to cripple him with their nocuous reflections. Haunted by a specter of his past, he was trapped within a memory, the vulturous imagery clawing at his sanity with its taloned fingers. Tears filled his eyes, and wrapping his arms around his head, he started to rock, his movements unconsciously falling into rhythm with the loud banging reverberating around his apartment. “Shut up shut up shut up shut up SHUT UUUP!” he cried, the final words of his desperate mantra transforming into a tortured scream.
The incessant knocking ceased, and falling back against his pillow, he jammed the heels of his hands against his eyes and stifled a strangled sob. Painful images continued to echo throughout his mind, but just when he thought he would succumb to the darkness, a loud voice pulled him back into the light. “TOM! IT’S ME! LET ME IN OR I’M KICKING DOWN THE DOOR!”
Quickly wiping the tears from his eyes, Tom climbed from the bed and hurried into the living room. His quivering fingers fumbled with the chain lock, but he finally released it and drawing back the deadbolt, he threw open the door.
The first thing Booker noticed was Tom’s tear-stained face; the second was the dozens of cuts adorning his forearms. Shocked by the level of self-harm, he grasped hold of both of Tom’s wrists, the force of his grip painfully crushing the young officer’s bones. “What the hell is this?” he growled.
Tom yanked his arms away and folded them protectively across his chest. “If you came here to lecture me, you can fuck off back to your boyfriend, ‘cause none of this is your business.”
Frustrated by Tom’s attitude, Booker wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he saw sense. But a part of him understood his friend’s resistance. Neither of them had handled things well since Tom’s rape, and now, their lives were unraveling before their very eyes. Therefore, instead of losing his temper, he took a deep, calming breath before speaking. “Tommy, you need to speak to a doctor. You can’t go on like this.”
Turning away, Tom walked over to the window and stared down at the traffic below. “I don’t want to speak to a doctor,” he muttered in a barely audible voice. “The only person I wanted to speak to abandoned me.”
Guilt reddened Booker’s face, and his heart plummeted in his chest. He realized now he had made a mistake by leaving Tom when he was still so vulnerable. Once again, his impulsiveness had hurt the man he loved, and he wished he had thought about his plan before rushing headlong into a situation that had ultimately destroyed not only a part of his soul but had left Tom believing he did not care. He had focused so much on retrieving the tapes, he had forgotten to be a real friend, and now he was paying the price. Even though he had given Tom the evidence he so desperately wanted destroyed, the young officer resented him, and it would take something of a miracle for them to get their friendship back on track. However, although Booker was not a religious man, he did believe in karma, and after everything he and Tom had endured, he was confident the universe would make things right.
“I didn’t abandon you, Tommy,” he replied with a weary sigh, and stepping into the apartment, he closed the door so they could have complete privacy without fear of prying eyes. “I think once you hear what I have to say, you’ll feel differently.”
Turning around, Tom gazed impassively at his friend. “So talk.”
Embarrassment colored Booker’s cheeks, and he shuffled uncomfortably. “I can’t. Not now. Jorge’s waiting in the car.”
A fiery spark of jealousy flickered in Tom’s eyes. “Well, we can’t keep your boyfriend waiting, can we,” he stated, the obvious sarcasm raising the timbre of his voice.
Annoyance marred Booker’s handsome face. “He’s not my boyfriend!” he snapped.
“But you sleep with him,” Tom pressed, not willing to let the matter go.
Booker thought back to the night before. After his brief fight with Tom, he had needed comfort, and when he returned to the bedroom, he had willingly allowed Jorge to seduce him. But his guilt soon got the better of him, and he had called a halt to their intimate encounter before it reached the point of no return. Jorge had sulked, using all his wily charms to try to persuade him to change his mind, but Booker had remained resolute. As much as he craved human contact, he would not take advantage of an emotionally damaged man.
With Tom waiting impatiently for his rebuttal, he knew he had no choice but to answer truthfully. “We have, but not anymore,” he admitted softly.
Tom’s eyes lowered to the floor. “I thought so.”
Sadness softened Booker’s eyes. “Please, Tommy, it’s not what you think,” he appealed softly. “Just give me a few hours and I’ll come back and explain everything. Okay?”
“Why can’t you explain it now?” Tom asked stubbornly. “If it’s that important, why wait?”
“Because I’m taking Jorge to see a doctor,” Booker replied frankly. “But I’ll come back alone after his appointment, I promise.”
Somewhat surprised by the answer, Tom’s shoulders relaxed. “Is he sick?”
The muscles in Booker’s jaw tightened. “Not exactly. He just hasn’t seen one for a while. So, is it okay if I come back?”
Tom chewed anxiously on his lower lip before answering. “Yeah, okay. But don’t fuck with me, Booker, I want the truth about everything. Got it?”
“Got it,” Booker sighed, and with a parting twitch of his lips that didn’t quite form into a smile, he left the apartment.
Tom stood in the middle of the living room, his heart thumping painfully in his chest. While more than a little intrigued by the ambiguity of Booker’s comments, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the truth. The mysterious Jorge had appeared out of nowhere, as had the tapes, which meant they were, in some way, connected. Glancing down at the tapes, he visualized Michael McCarter walking past the line of pledges, his lips pulled back in a predatory smile. “We video every final initiation and the tape is then handed over to our Keymaster, a trusted Pi Tau alumnus.”
The echoes from his past sent a shiver down Tom’s spine, and he wrapped his arms protectively around his torso. Booker had found the Keymaster, and if the man was anything like the current Pi Taus, Tom knew his friend would have experienced a whole lot of psychological and physical pain. It was a realization that weighed heavily on his heart, and he longed for the moment when Booker returned, so they could begin to put the ghosts from their past behind them.
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Beneath a Heart of Darkness