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Chasing a Butterfly	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 2592 -:- 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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I'm sure many of you will not be too pleased with what is about to take place, but this is how I planned the story and it is an integral part of the plot.
In peace,

OpenPage x
Saturday March 24th 1990 (9.55 p.m.)
As the prison prepared to lockdown for the night, Tom sat on the edge of his bunk and stared wistfully into space. He had spent the evening in the gym, working out his frustrations and disappointments through a testosterone-fueled training session of lifting weights and boxing. Even though he knew he was an idiot to have even contemplated the idea, he had held onto the faint hope that Booker (after celebrating his birthday without him) would have felt the need to see him. He had spent the whole of the day before procrastinating, unsure if he should phone his ex-lover and wish him a happy birthday or if it was a wiser decision to let sleeping dogs lie. But in the end, he had decided it seemed a lame gesture after everything that had happened and even if he had managed to pluck up the nerve, he was fairly certain the young officer would not have accepted the collect call. It was then that he wished he had at least sent a card, but even that seemed inappropriate, given the circumstances, because he would not have known what to write. Happy birthday Dennis, sorry I ruined your life, but enjoy your day! seemed completely inappropriate, as did, Happy birthday Dennis, please forgive me. There was really nothing else he could say and even if he did find the right words, saying them in a letter was the coward’s way out. If he wanted Booker to forgive him, he needed to find the appropriate way to do it and now did not seem the right time. He knew in his heart that their relationship was over and in a small way, he had accepted it. But he also knew he could not carry the guilt of his sins forever and that one day, he would have to apologize for all the hurt he had caused the man who had tried his hardest to save him when he was in desperate need of help and that he would once again, need to atone for his transgressions.
When a gentle hand stroked his shower-damp hair, he looked up and his gaze bore deep into his cellmate’s inquiring emerald green eyes. The tender caress had once again awakened his need to feel loved and without giving himself time to think, he asked the question that had been keeping him awake at night ever since his release from solitary. “Why don’t you want to have sex with me anymore?”
Mosco’s hand stilled and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Ever since Tom’s return to D Block, he had not felt comfortable approaching him for casual sex because his affection for the younger man had grown exponentially and he no longer viewed him as just a piece of ass. However, it was not as simple as telling Tom he thought he had fallen in love with him, he had a dark secret and now, whenever he thought about it, his emotions overwhelmed him and his stomach churned. He wanted Tom as his lover in every sense of the word and yet he was essentially, leading a lamb to slaughter. But there was nothing he could do about it now, he had opened Pandora’s Box and by doing so, he had sealed Tom’s fate. He felt duplicitous because his feelings for Tom had changed so dramatically, but he also knew if he intervened and tried to stop the plan that his Jefa had so carefully put in place, his own life would not be worth living.
He was caught between a rock and a hard place.
The clang of the cell gate closing pulled him from his reverie and gazing down into Tom’s desolate brown eyes, his heart began to pound heavily in his chest. He paused for a moment before throwing caution to the wind and taking Tom’s hand in his, he pulled him to his feet. As their eyes locked, he could feel the sexual tension vibrating between their bodies like electricity and he knew there was no turning back; he was bewitched.
When the prison lights dimmed, a slow smile played over his lips and cupping Tom’s face in his hand, he gently caressed the smooth skin beneath his thumb. “Are you asking me to make love to you, Chico?” he asked softly.
Tom’s cheeks flushed an attractive shade of pink and his dark eyes filled with longing before self-consciously averting their gaze to the floor. Mosco had never used the term make love before, their dysfunctional relationship had been based solely on getting off. But now, as he felt Mosco’s callused thumb lovingly stroking his cheek, memories of the tender, reassuring kiss his cellmate had placed against his forehead surged to the surface and his heart skipped a beat. The selfish, conceited and often brutal man he had shared a cell with for the past four and a half months appeared to have done a complete three-sixty and standing before him was a transformed man… a man he was falling in love with.
A tremor of excitement tinged with uncertainty ran down the full length of his body and nervously licking his lips, he lifted his gaze and stared into Mosco’s expectant eyes. “Yes,” he murmured, the excessive trembling in his legs causing him to sway slightly on his feet. “I am.”
Mosco’s jagged breathing resonated throughout the tiny cell and his viridian eyes shimmered with arousal in the dim moonlight filtering in through the small overhead window. The heat radiating between their two bodies was palpable and leaning forward, he brushed his lips against the soft flesh of Tom’s full pout. It was their first kiss and both men savored the intimacy that had been lacking from their lives for so long. Their lips parted simultaneously, but Mosco allowed Tom to take control, not wanting to scare him with the depth of his arousal. His cock was already hard and the Mosco of old would have had Tom bent over the sink and halfway to happy land by now, but the unfamiliarity of the intense emotions coursing through his body made him hesitant. For the first time in his life it was not about the sexual gratification he knew he would receive, it was all about pleasuring the man standing before him.
As their tongues danced a slow, sensual tango of exploration, a low moan sounded from deep within his chest and wrapping his arms around Tom’s narrow waist, he pulled him closer. He was struggling to contain the fire smoldering deep inside his soul, the flames licking at his genitals and igniting a deep sensuality within him. He longed to warm Tom with his newfound love and that one kiss could have such a profound effect on him was both baffling yet invigorating. When long fingers unexpectedly fondled his erection through the soft material of his boxers, he felt like a teenager experiencing his first sexual encounter and terrified that he would shoot his load there and then, he broke the kiss, and cupping Tom’s face in his hands, he gazed at him through heavy lids. “I wanna feel you beneath me mi chico hermoso,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling with the intensity of his arousal. “I wanna make you come.”
With a seductive smile, Tom took Mosco by the hand and began to walk over to the basin, but his cellmate pulled back, a look of immense sadness passing over his handsome face. “No, no, Chico,” he murmured, his eyes glistening with shame. “I don’t wanna fuck you… I wanna make love to you.”
Tom’s brow creased in confusion, but when Mosco led him over to the narrow bunks, he suddenly understood and his heart fluttered as raw emotion reawakened a fiery passion within his soul. His thickening cock tented his boxers and hooking his thumbs into the elastic waistband, he pushed the soft material down until it pooled around his ankles. He immediately felt Marco’s desirous gaze upon him, the jade green eyes greedily feeding on the erotic sight of his erect cock jutting out proudly from his slim body and a shiver of excitement ran down the length of his spine. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him in with such rapture; Mosco wanted him, yearned for him with a passion that would continue to burn until his eager hands and ravenous mouth quenched the insatiable thirst through a fervent exploration of his quivering flesh. For the first time in weeks, he felt alive and every nerve in his body tingled with an impatient desire to feel the other man’s love and just as importantly, to return the love, to the one who bestowed it upon him.
Stepping out of his boxers, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and lay down on his bunk. His chest rose and fell in eager anticipation for what was to come, his breathlessness coloring his cheeks a soft shade of pink. Within seconds, Mosco was naked and kneeling before him, his expression hesitant and laughing softly, Tom reached out and caressed the older man’s face. “You look nervous,” he teased gently. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”
Mosco’s eyes clouded over. “This is different,” he whispered, his voice rasping with emotion. “This time it’s not about me taking what I want, it’s about you giving it to me willingly.”
Tom’s hand stilled and his expression darkened. “It wasn’t rape,” he replied quietly, “You never forced yourself on me.”
A heavy sigh escaped from between Mosco’s lips and with his erection now dwindling, he lay down in the confined space next to Tom and stared morosely at the sagging mattress above him. “I might as well have. I coerced you through intimidation… let’s face it, you never would have submitted unless I’d talked you into it… I’m just not your type.”
Shocked and surprised by Mosco’s frank admission, Tom rolled over and stared intently at his cellmate. “You’re wrong,” he murmured as he studied Mosco’s chiseled profile. “That first time when we… God, I wanted it so badly it hurt. And maybe we’re both guilty of using each other to get what we wanted, but all that’s changed now. I admit it, I was desperate for love because I missed Dennis, but that no longer matters because I’ve come to the realization that I don’t love him anymore, I love you, Miguel… you’re the one I want to be with, not him.”
Two jade green eyes turned in his direction, the intensity of their gaze reigniting the fire deep within Tom’s soul. “Do you really mean that?” Mosco whispered, his voice hitching in his throat. “Do you really love me?”
Tom smiled and leaning forward, he brushed his lips enticingly over Mosco’s soft pout. “Yeah I do,” he reassured softly and taking his lover’s cock in his hand, he tenderly stroked him back to hardness.
“Oh, Chico,” Mosco breathed and pressing his lips against the taut skin of Tom’s throat, he sucked deeply. “Me pones cachondo (You make me horny).”
The passion in Mosco’s voice hardened Tom’s own cock and he elicited a soft moan. Since arriving in prison, he had learned the meaning of many Spanish words and he knew exactly what Mosco was saying. With his lover’s cock now fully erect, he released his hold and rolled onto his back. “Quiero que me folles duro (I want you to fuck me hard).”
Mosco’s green eyes flashed with excitement and a low growl rumbled in his chest. “Mmm, Chico, now you’re really turning me on,” he groaned and reaching up, he pulled a tube of lubrication out from under his mattress. Tom’s eyes widened with surprise. They had always used moisturizer as a lubricant, which was not always the most pleasant and the thought of using real lubrication stimulated him even further. For the first time, they would be like real lovers and not just two frantic inmates, desperate to get off.
With his prized possession in his hand, Mosco knelt between Tom’s bent legs and the sight of the beautiful body laid out willingly before him brought a lump of emotion to his throat. The love he felt was genuine and a physical pain stabbed at his heart. He was about to make love to a man whose life was predestined to end violently.
Pushing the unwanted thoughts from his mind, he coated his fingers and cock in the oily gel and leaning forward, he placed a loving kiss against Tom’s lips. “Ready mi chico hermoso?”
Tom’s dark eyes sparkled in the moonlight and nodding his head, he took a deep breath and waited. When Mosco’s finger pushed inside him, he exhaled a jagged breath. He was surprised at how gently his lover was treating him and reaching out a shaky hand, he lovingly stroked the jagged scar that in his eyes, added to the attractiveness of the man hovering above him. He felt himself start to relax and closing his eyes, he moaned as the gentle finger caressed his prostate.
“Can you feel it, Chico?” Mosco crooned softly and taking Tom’s cock in his free hand, he tugged gently. An expression of pure rapture lit up Tom’s beautiful face and he smiled lovingly as he continued the double stimulation.
“Yes,” Tom breathed, his body squirming beneath Mosco’s skilled hands. “I’m so fucking hard, oh God, Mosco, I want you inside me… now!”
Mosco’s eyes flashed with excitement at the intensity of the longing in Tom’s voice and withdrawing his finger, he brushed the hair from his lover’s eyes. “Wrap your legs around me, I wanna see that beautiful face when I make love to you.”
Tom did as Mosco asked, his dark eyes blazing brightly and when his lover’s cock slowly entered him, he emitted a low moan of pleasure. “Do you like that?” Mosco whispered as he gently rocked his hips forward, his cock pushing deeper into Tom’s willing body with every thrust. “Talk to me, Chico, tell me how it feels.”
“It feels fucking amazing,” Tom breathed, his fingers trailing up and down his erect cock, the light pressure adding to his stimulation.
A smile curled at the edges of Mosco’s lips. “Do you want me to touch you?” he asked softly, his thrusts becoming deeper and more frenetic.
Tom’s body arched backward and his eyes fluttered closed. “Yesss,” he hissed, “oh Mosco… oh God…”
Supporting his weight on one hand, Mosco gently grasped Tom’s erection between his fingers and tugged softly. “Like this?” he teased.
With his needs now growing to a fever pitch, Tom tangled his fingers in Mosco’s dark hair and thrusting his pelvis forward, he groaned loudly. “Harder… harder harder harder harder…”
Shifting his position slightly, Mosco increased the pace of his thrusts as his fingers worked over Tom’s weeping shaft. He could sense his lover was close and leaning forward, he whispered breathlessly against his ear. “Come for me, Chico.”
With an ecstatic cry, Tom’s hips thrust off the bed and seconds later, his orgasm shot forth, coating his chest with semen. “OH FUCK!” Mosco yelled and with one final thrust, his body shuddered violently as he climaxed forcefully. Heavy breathing resonated throughout the tiny cell and collapsing on top of Tom, he, held him close as his body continued to spasm.
As the minutes passed, a post-climactic calm washed over both men and gently disengaging from Tom’s quivering body, Mosco flopped down on the narrow mattress and let out a heavy sigh. “Fuck.”
A slow grin played over Tom’s flushed face. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Rolling onto his side, Mosco propped up on one elbow and gently caressed Tom’s face. “You’re one sexy motherfucker, Chico,” he whispered softly.
Tom’s cheeks flushed a deep red and draping his arm over Mosco’s muscular frame, he snuggled against the warm body and closed his eyes. “I love you, Miguel,” he murmured sleepily.
Mosco gazed at Tom’s serene face for several seconds before pressing his lips against his lover’s smooth forehead. “Yo también te quiero, mi chico hermoso. Que duermas bien (I love you too, my beautiful boy. Sleep well),” he whispered and reaching down, he grabbed the thin gray blanket from the bottom of the bunk and covering both their bodies, he wrapped his arm protectively around Tom’ slim waist and fell into a blissful sleep.
**
Saturday March 24th 1990 (11.58 p.m.)
Booker kept his gaze fixed on his bedroom ceiling, his weary mind having jolted back to life the moment he had laid down on his bed and tried to go to sleep. He had survived his second day without giving into temptation, but he felt empty inside and the urge to numb his mind with alcohol and mindless sex was becoming a serious issue. He yearned for human contact, no matter how incongruous because when he was alone, his thoughts turned to Tom and how much he missed him, despite his fervent protests to the contrary. Although he had enjoyed his night out with Harry and he appreciated the effort his friend had made, he had spent most of the evening wishing that he were celebrating his birthday with Tom. He hated himself for calling his ex-lover a whore in front of Harry, but the pain of seeing Tom receiving sexual pleasure from another man had still been so raw, he had reacted by going on the attack. It was immature and churlish and he was ashamed that his friend had witnessed the harshness of his words, but he could not take them back, no matter how much he wished he could.
As the seconds slowly ticked into long, agonizing hours, he slowly came to the realization that even though he could not change the past, he could make everything right with Tom; all he had to do was swallow his pride and organize a visit for the following weekend. He knew it would not be easy seeing his ex-lover after witnessing the intimate moment captured on film, but over the last few months, he too had given into the temptations of the flesh with numerous long forgotten men and so he figured they were now even. They had both sought comfort in sex and it was something that would never be forgotten, but he could try to make everything right by forgiving Tom, then they could concentrate on rebuilding their shattered relationship and move forward with their lives. It was that easy.
Or so he thought.
With his plan now in place, he closed his eyes, just as the sun slowly rose over the horizon and permeated the darkness with the warmth of its rays. For the first time in months, he felt a sense of calmness radiating throughout his body and he truly believed everything would be all right.
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Chasing a Butterfly