Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

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
- 38
- 39
- 40
That evening

The last-quarter moon shone valiantly through a thin veil of clouds, the silvery glow creating an aura of mystique in the night sky. Captivated by its shimmering beauty, Tom gazed out of the bathroom window, the toothbrush between his teeth temporarily forgotten. The celestial body’s esoteric energy imbued in him a spiritual calm, and for the first time since his assault, he felt at peace. However, it was not only the moon’s magisterial presence subduing his frazzled nerves. He could not deny the cathartic effect Booker had on him, which was rather amusing given the dark-haired officer’s history of provocation. But a lot had changed since their first case together, and from deep within the bitter animosity, an unexpected relationship had blossomed, proving that even the most unlikely of rivals could eventually become friends given the right set of circumstances.
A dribble of foam formed at the corner of Tom's mouth, and removing his toothbrush, he leaned over the hand basin and spat out the residual spearmint flavored paste. After rinsing thoroughly, he straightened up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he studied his reflection in the small, mottled mirror. This time, there was no ghostly vision staring back at him, and although uncharacteristically pale, the face was his own. But with his relief came an uneasy feeling, and reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pharmacy bottle filled with green and white capsules. As he turned the orange vial over in his hand, Doctor Ross’ warning echoed in his mind, “There are side effects to consider when taking SSRIs, Tom. Anti-anxiety medication can cause nausea, insomnia, nervousness, impotence...”
The word impotence reverberated loudly inside Tom’s head, the term mocking him with its power to emasculate him to a point where he would no longer feel like a man. The Pi Taus had already robbed him of his dignity, and he would be damned if he would let an innocent looking pill deprive him of the pleasure of an orgasm. Not that he’d had one since his rape, even his brief sexual encounter with Booker hadn’t awakened his dormant cock. He did, however, remain optimistic that his sexual urges would return, and therein lay the problem. If he took the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors, he knew he could kiss that hope goodbye, and another tiny piece of his soul would slowly succumb to the cold, shadowy hand of doom. It was a terrifying thought because in his heart, he knew if he allowed the darkness to infect him again, he would not have the strength to fight it, even with Booker by his side.
Impulsively, he unscrewed the vial’s cap and tilted the container. But a moment of clarity stopped him before the pills fell into the basin, and quickly replacing the lid, he shoved the bottle back in his pocket. If he and Booker were to have any chance at a meaningful relationship, he needed to trust the young officer with all his darkest secrets, and that meant discussing his medical treatment and the possibility of the SSRIs causing him erectile dysfunction.
With the fate of his future now riding on his decision, he took a deep, calming breath, and walked out into the living area of Booker’s messy apartment. Dennis sat on the sofa, a bottle of beer in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other. A haze of smoke hung above his head, leading Tom to the conclusion that the dark-haired officer had smoked more than one cigarette during the time it had taken him to shower and brush his teeth. The sight caused his hands to tremble slightly and his stomach to flutter with nervous energy. He was about to lay his cards on the table, and he had no idea how Booker would react.
The sound of the bathroom door opening alerted Dennis to Tom’s presence, and stubbing out his cigarette, he turned and faced his friend. “Find everything you needed?” he asked with a warm smile.
“Yeah, thanks,” Tom replied absently, his eyes not quite meeting Booker’s inquisitive gaze.
Surprised by the hesitant edge in Hanson’s voice, Booker placed his beer bottle on the coffee table and stood up. “Is everything okay?” he inquired softly, his eyes automatically focusing on the crisscross of scars covering Tom’s forearms. “Do you need—”
“The doctor prescribed these,” Tom blurted out, and reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the vial of Prozac and offered it to Booker. “But I don’t want to take them.”
Booker took the container and carefully studied the label. While he accepted Tom’s aversion to drugs, the effects of Prozac were far more dangerous than popping a couple of Tylenol, and although medically inexperienced, he understood enough to know you shouldn't just stop taking the medication unless supervised by a doctor. The knowledge immediately made him cautious, and moving over to the couch, he sat down. “Talk to me,” he encouraged softly. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Tom hesitated for a moment before taking a seat next to his friend. Unsure how to proceed, he lifted his thumb up to his mouth and nervously chewed on a piece of red raw skin protruding from around the base of the nail. Fiercely private, he found opening up and talking about his feelings incredibly awkward, and even though he wanted to share his concerns with the man he trusted with his life, now the moment had arrived, he found his composure slipping. A feverish heat colored his cheeks, adding an air of vulnerability to his troubled face, and ducking his head, his lips twitched apologetically. “Nothing,” he mumbled into his hand. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”
The emotionally evocative sight took Booker’s breath away, and he longed to take Tom in his arms and kiss away the pain. But ignoring whatever was troubling the young officer would not make the problem magically disappear, and while he respected Tom’s right to make his own choices about his treatment, he decided to play devil’s advocate just to get him talking. After a moment’s pause, he took hold of his friend’s wrist and gently removed his hand from his mouth. “Sorry, Tommy, but I can’t forget it. Tell me why you don’t want to take something that’ll make you feel better.”
Caught in a trap of his own making, Tom reluctantly accepted defeat and puffing out his cheeks, he exhaled a heavy sigh and flopped back against the sofa’s cushions, his lower lip pushing into a sulky pout. “Because they’ll make me impotent.”
Booker only just managed to disguise his surprise, but with Tom’s dark eyes carefully studying his face, looking for a reaction, he knew he needed to think fast or risk making matters worse. “Um, okay,” he replied slowly, his mind desperately searching for the right response. “But it doesn’t happen to everyone, right? So maybe you should—”
“NO!” Tom exclaimed loudly, and jumping to his feet, he started to pace around the small room, his fingers raking frantically through his damp hair in a gesture of wordless exasperation.
Concerned by the outburst, Booker stood up, his chocolate brown eyes softening with compassion. “Tommy–”
“DON’T TOMMY ME!” Tom yelled, his eyes flashing with frustration. “DON’T YOU GET IT? IF I CAN’T GET IT UP, THEN YOU AND I CAN’T HAVE A RELATIONSHIP!”
“Is that what’s worrying you?” Booker responded in surprise. “Baby, I don’t give a damn about the sex, I just want you to get well.”
They were the words Tom needed to hear, but deep in his heart, he knew they weren’t true. His lower lip started to tremble, and the emotions he’d battle so hard to contain spilled forth in a torrent of grief. Ashamed, he covered his face with his hands, but when Booker’s arms encircled him, he leaned into the embrace and allowed his head to fall against the dark-haired officer’s broad, muscular chest. “They’ve taken everything from me,” he wept. “Everything!”
“Shhh,” Dennis crooned against the contours of Tom’s ear. “We can get through this.”
With a loud sniff, Tom pulled away, his dark eyes shining with unshed tears. “How?”
Taking Tom by the hand, Booker led him over to the couch and sat down. When the young officer was seated beside him, he spoke in a calm, gentle voice. “Are you serious about coming off your meds?”
Taken aback by the question, Tom hesitated before answering. He had expected Booker to fight his decision, to tell him to listen to his doctor and everything would be okay. So to know his friend was prepared to discuss his concerns lessened his anxiety, and wiping the tears from his eyes, he took a deep breath and answered honestly. “Yes.”
“Okay,” Booker replied with a slow nod of his head. “Well, I guess we need to make an appointment with your doctor.”
“We?” Tom questioned, the rising pitch of his voice emphasizing his surprise.
Booker grinned. “Idiot. Of course we. We’re a couple… I mean, we are a couple, aren’t we?”
A shy smile lit up Tom’s face, and leaning forward, he brushed his lips over Dennis’ full pout.
“Mmm, I’ll take that as a yes,” Booker murmured, and pulling Tom into his arms, he deepened the kiss.
Lost in the moment, Tom allowed Booker to push him backward so he was lying on the couch. He could feel his lover’s muscular contours pressing against him, molding their bodies into one cohesive being. Their teeth and tongues clashed as their passion intensified, and pushing open Tom’s legs, Booker ground against his lover, his cock lengthening with every frantic thrust. But the sensation of Booker’s rigid manhood pressing against his own flaccid cock brought home the reality of Tom’s limitations. Booker’s motor was revved and ready to go, and while Tom’s mind was willing and able, his body remained stubbornly unresponsive. It was not how he envisioned their first time, he wanted equal terms, equal pleasure, and breaking the kiss, he gazed up into his lover’s dilated pupils, his chest rising and falling in a breathless pant. “Um, maybe we should cool it until… well, until I can…”
A brief flash of disappointment flickered in Booker’s eyes. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he sighed.
“Sorry,” Tom muttered ruefully. “It’s just—”
Booker’s soft lips devoured the remainder of Tom’s sentence. The kiss was slow and chaste compared to their previous passionate encounter, and when they broke apart, the dark-haired officer gazed lovingly into Tom’s eyes. “Never apologize. I want you to feel what I feel, okay?”
Relief relaxed Tom’s face into a smile. “Okay.”
Ignoring the throbbing in his groin, Booker sat up, and picking up his beer, he swallowed down the last few mouthfuls. However, the refreshing, malty beverage did little to calm his rising nerves. Now his ultimate dream of making love to Tom was fast approaching reality, a carelessly made promise had come into play, and he knew he needed to fess up, or risk the life of the man he was trying to protect.
Immediately, his impulsive nature came to the fore, and without taking any time to think through what he was about to say, he spoke his mind. “Um, Tom, I appreciate your honesty, so I think now’s the time for me to tell you my secret.”
Surprise raised Tom’s eyebrows, and sitting up, he studied Booker’s carefully masked expression. “O-kay,” he replied slowly, a ripple of fear running down his spine. “So tell me.”
Booker shifted nervously in his seat. “It’s stupid, I mean, I never thought it would happen, but now we’re together—”
“Just tell me,” Tom requested in a rush of words, the adrenaline sweeping through his body quickening his pulse.
This time, Booker thought long and hard before speaking because just one thoughtlessly spoken word could jeopardize their relationship before it had even begun. “Okay. Well, when my contract ended with Holland, I was concerned about leaving Jorge. He’d suffered so much, and all I could think about was finding a way to convince Holland to let him leave with me.”
“Go on,” Tom urged, the uncertainty steadily increasing his anxiety.
With a faint trace of an apologetic smile, Booker continued. “So, at first, Holland wouldn’t even consider it, but then he got this idea, and ‘cause I never thought it would happen, I agreed to it. But you’ve gotta understand, Tommy, I had no choice, I had to get Jorge out of there, and anyway, I never would’ve gone through with it, it was an empty promise, nothing more.”
The room swam in front of Tom’s eyes, but he pushed through his rising panic and clenching his hands into fists, he attempted to focus on Booker’s wavering face. “Through with what, exactly?”
It was then Booker wondered if he had made a terrible mistake. Tom’s mental state was still fragile, and there was a certain amount of jealousy between him and Jorge. Also, now he was about to admit what he had agreed to, it seemed unbelievably selfish and immoral. However, in his defense, he had suffered unspeakable physical and emotional stress, both of which had severely affected his cognitive thought process. Nevertheless, in the cold light of day, it now seemed a lame excuse, and he wished he hadn’t acted so irrationally. What he was about to reveal could have a negative impact on Tom’s recovery, and knowing he was about to cause his friend more psychological pain created a dull, physical ache in his heart. He was about to break his lover's trust, and he had no idea how the young officer would react.
But despite his reservations, he knew there was no turning back, and taking a deep breath, he revealed his shameful secret. “I made a promise to Holland that if you and I ever got together, I’d secretly film the first time we had sex and give him the tape.”
When the meaning of Booker’s words became apparent, Tom’s features contorted with shock. “WHAT?” he exclaimed, his voice shaking with anger. “You bargained MY body so you could save Jorge’s? How could you do that? How the fuck could you do that?”
A look of pain flashed across Booker’s face, the way lightning cuts through the sky, and grasping Tom’s hand in both of his, his dark, soulful eyes implored his friend to understand. “I would never have done it, Tom, never! But I had to agree so I could save Jorge!”
With a disgruntled snort, Tom snatched his hand away. “Jorge. It’s always about Jorge. Why don’t you just admit it, you’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”
Booker raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. “What? Of course I’m not in love with him, I’m in love with you!”
Rising to his feet, Tom stared down at his friend, his expression scornful. “Then why did you tell me? The whole story’s bullshit, Booker. There’s no way Holland could ever know if we had sex, and if, by some freak occurrence, he did, what the hell was he going to do about it when you didn’t produce a tape? You’re taunting me. You’re throwing Jorge back in my face and—”
“NO I’M NOT!” Booker yelled, and jumping up, he grabbed Tom by the shoulders. “Holland’s a psychopath! Don’t you get it? He’ll know when we’ve had sex, he has spies EVERYWHERE! FUCK! He could even have this apartment bugged! So if we do have sex, trust me, he’ll find out, and when I don’t produce a tape, he’ll go after Jorge! I had to tell you because now we’re together I have to warn him to be careful, and I didn’t want to go and see him behind your back!”
For Tom, jealousy was an unfamiliar emotion, and the rapid surge of anger, envy, sadness and resentment welling up inside his chest left him shaking with uncertainty. There was no denying the obvious, Jorge was blessed with the alluring physical attributes of a modern-day Adonis, and in comparison, the Jump Street officer felt inferior and unattractive. All of a sudden, he began to doubt the integrity of Booker’s affections, and humiliation prickled his skin. He should have known he was now unworthy of real love, after all, who in their right mind would respect and cherish someone who had allowed seven men to violate their body in the worst way possible? Somehow, he had forgotten Jorge’s own horror story, his subjection to rape, manipulation, and torture since the age of fifteen. When he thought of the young Latino, he saw a captivating young man endued with the seductive powers, under whose shining light he visibly paled. There was no comparison; Jorge had an intoxicating presence, whereas he barely managed to control the ever-present panic associated with his rape. Whether he liked it or not, he was the antithesis of the provocative, alluring, innocent young Latino, and therefore, he did not blame Booker for falling for someone so bewitchingly beautiful. There was no way he could compete, and he felt foolish for allowing himself to believe he had any chance with someone as charismatic as Booker.
Dejection dulled his eyes, but he was determined to free his friend from any sense of obligation, and a sad, capitulating smile tugged at the edges of his mouth. “Trust me, I do get it, and I think you should go to him because he can give you everything I can’t; he can make you happy.”
Booker’s face registered shock. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he cried. “I love you, Tommy, not Jorge! You make me happy, not him! What do I have to do to make you believe me? All I want to do is warn Jorge, not fucking sleep with him!”
The passion behind Booker’s outburst immediately had Tom questioning the validity of his self-doubt, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. Despite what most people thought, Booker was fiercely loyal and protective, and he should have known the young officer would shield Jorge from Holland in whatever way possible. It had nothing to do with love, Jorge was Dennis’ friend, and the young officer had an obligation to warn him of Holland’s intentions.
Keeping his gaze firmly on the floor, he shuffled uncomfortably. “Sorry,” he apologized softly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I never used to be this paranoid.”
Compassion moistened Booker’s eyes, and resting his hands on Tom’s shoulders, he placed his lips against his lover’s forehead and kissed him tenderly. “Forget it. We’re both acting kinda weird. I s’pose it’s the stress.”
Grateful for the understanding, Tom visibly relaxed. “Yeah, I guess.”
With a glance at the clock, Booker exhaled a weary sigh. “It’s getting late. I’ll take the couch, and you can have the bed. Okay?”
A shy smile graced Tom’s lips. “Or we could both share the bed,” he ventured softly. “I mean, if you want to, even though we can’t… well, you know.”
A tempestuous fire burned deep in Booker’s dark eyes, but he quickly doused the amorous flame. Before he dived head first into a sexual relationship with Tom, he wanted him to discuss the pros and cons of not taking his SSRI medication with a doctor. If they were going to commit to each other, he wanted to do it right, and as much as he longed to make love to the man standing before him, he was insightful enough to know the timing wasn’t right. He needed to remain patient and let Tom set the pace, otherwise, he risked causing him more emotional pain, and he would never forgive himself if his impetuousness ruined their relationship before it had even begun.
Therefore, he pushed all thoughts of sex from his mind and became the friend Tom needed him to be. “Sure, baby,” he smiled lovingly, and taking the young officer by the hand, he led him into the bedroom and closed the door.
- 38
- 39
- 40
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Beneath a Heart of Darkness