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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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After enjoying a burger and fries in a quiet café, Tom took his time walking back to the campus via Fraternity Row. The steady doof doof of loud music echoed up and down the leafy street, the jarring techno sound interspersed with rowdy laughter and strident voices. He paused behind his tree and studied the Pi Tau house. The Victorian stood shrouded by darkness, the only light a faint shimmer shining through the small basement window. No noise emanated from the shadowy building and Tom’s brow furrowed into a heavy frown. It was unusual for a frat house to be so quiet on a weekend, and he wondered what secrets lay hidden behind its walls.
He stood watching for several minutes, but the house remained eerily silent. Intrigued by the solitude, he continued his surveillance, but when he witnessed no suspicious activity, he decided there was no point hanging around and he continued toward the college. When he arrived at the student dorm, he also found it relatively quiet for a Sunday night and unlocking the door to his room, he switched on the light and walked in.
Booker’s bed was empty, and there was no sign of his belongings throughout the dorm. He was obviously still out painting the town red and with a sigh, Tom started to close the door. But before it could latch, he found himself stumbling backward as it flew open, and a drunken Booker lurched into the room.
“Oops, sorry,” the dark-haired officer apologized with a goofy grin and slamming the door closed, he dropped his bag to the floor. He stood swaying unsteadily on his feet for a moment before staggering over to his bed and flopping down on the mattress with a sigh.
As he studied Booker’s bloodshot eyes and unsteady gait, Tom did not know whether to laugh or scream. If Dennis was going to spend his time drinking and socializing, his worst nightmare was about to be realized. The thought of facing the hazing rituals alone unnerved him, and although he did not wholly trust Booker, he wanted him by his side. However, it was only their first day and therefore, he decided to cut him some slack. After all, neither of them had behaved in a professional manner since arriving at the college, so he had no real reason to complain. For some reason, Booker always brought the worst out in him, and he wondered if the dark-haired officer viewed him in the same way.
So instead of berating him, he decided to keep the conversation light. “Looks like you had no trouble finding the bar.”
Amused by Tom’s statement, a drowsy smile played over Booker’s lips before he yawned noisily. “Nope, and let me tell you, Tommy, it was full of really hot coeds… and a few hot guys. And you wanna know what’s great? They’re not only gorgeous, they’re legal!”
Unsure if Booker was winding him up or not, Tom decided to err on the side of caution and not take the bait. Instead, he began to undress, the emotion of the day’s events suddenly overwhelming him. With a yawn, he threw his jacket onto the chair and tugging his tee shirt over his head, he flung it on top of his coat. After kicking off his boots, he untied the shirt from around his waist and tossed it towards the chair. But his aim was off, and it slipped to the floor, where it remained in a crumpled heap. When he unbuckled his belt and started to pull down the zipper of his jeans, he caught Booker looking at him and pausing mid-zip, he raised an eyebrow in a do you mind? gesture.
Unperturbed by Tom’s discomfit, a slow grin played over Booker’s lips. Blind Freddie could see he was making the young officer uneasy, but he could not stop himself. The sight before him was mesmerizing, and unable to look away, he continued to cast a lingering eye over Tom’s smooth, slender torso. “Do I make you nervous, Hanson?” he asked softly, his coal-black eyes dancing with mischief.
It was on the tip of Tom's tongue to reply, “Are you always such a pervert, Booker?” But he caught himself just in time and instead, he smiled sweetly and unzipping his jeans, he let the blue denim fall to the floor. “Nope,” he replied with a smile and stepping out of the worn jeans, he kicked them towards his shirt. "You just annoy the shit out of me."
It was the first time Tom had taken his teasing in good humor, and Booker’s grin widened. “You know what, Hanson? I was wrong, you’re prettier when you smile.”
Although he could not control the blush that stained his cheeks, Tom grinned back and walking over to the door, he turned the lock and flicked off the light. “Go to sleep, Booker. We’ve got a fun day of hazing to look forward to tomorrow.”
Booker watched Tom climb into bed and too lazy to get undressed, he kicked off his boots and crawled under the covers. Soft moonlight filtered in through the partially open blinds, casting shadows over Tom’s tranquil face, the luminous beam emphasizing his beauty with its ethereal glow. With a contented sigh, Booker rolled over on his side and ignoring the gurgling in his stomach—the result of too much beer and not enough food—he gazed at Tom through bleary eyes. The sound of the younger man's breathing soon slowed, and a rhythmic snoring filled the room, causing him to smile. It seemed Hanson was the snorer, not him, and he filed the information away for future reference.
Weariness suddenly overwhelmed him and unable to fight the tiredness that was engulfing his body, he closed his eyes. “G’night, beautiful,” he whispered and snuggling down under the duvet, he fell asleep.
**
The sound of excited voices woke Booker from a deep sleep and moaning loudly, he partially opened his eyes and peered out through his long, dark lashes. His gaze immediately focused on Tom and an amused smile played over his lips. During the time he had been at Jump Street, he had indulged in many sexual fantasies about the man lying on the bed next to him. However, none resembled the reality that now presented itself before him. When he had imagined Tom asleep in his bed, he had envisioned him lying serenely on his side with his hands tucked under his face, his tranquility radiating the innocence of a small child. But what confronted him was an entirely different scenario, and he chuckled at the absurdity of his idolization. Tom lay on his stomach with his face mashed into the mattress, the uncomfortable looking pose forcing his mouth open in a twisted pout. Air expelled from between his parted lips, the rhythmic pfff echoing throughout the small room. One arm dangled over the side of the bed, the knuckles of his hand grazing the worn brown carpet, the other arm lay wrapped around his head, partially hiding his tangled, sleep-mussed hair. Although not the perfect vision he had imagined in his dreams, Booker’s heart skipped a beat. Lying before him was the visual reality of his fantasies, and it did not disappoint. Despite not being the romantic representation he had conjured up in his mind, Tom was as beautiful in sleep as he was awake, more so because there was an underlying vulnerability in his defenselessness. Booker longed to gather him in his arms and pepper soft kisses over his supple yet toned body. The urge to lick and taste every inch of the flawlessly smooth flesh was overwhelming, and he suppressed a moan as his cock twitched to life. He knew he was playing a dangerous game; Tom could wake up at any moment. But he could not ignore his burgeoning arousal and reaching under the covers, he unzipped his jeans and released his cock. Another moan trembled on his lips and taking a deep breath, he lightly caressed his hardening shaft. A shiver of pleasure ran down the length of his spine, and fiery heat flared in his stomach, the internal flame traveling downwards and igniting his testicles in a warm glow. His fist began to pump frantically over his erection, and his breath hitched in his throat, the ragged sound intermingling with the sound of Tom’s heavy breathing. As he gazed at Hanson's open mouth, he imagined the full, pouting lips sucking his engorged head, and immediately his arousal intensified. Pre-cum leaked from his slit, lubricating his fingers as his fist worked over his shaft. When he felt his orgasm rising, a moment of panic thumped in his heart. He was still wearing his jeans and he ran the real risk of ejaculating over the worn denim. With a muffled cry, he just managed to grab a handful of the bed sheet with his free hand before his body stiffened, and pressing the sheet against his groin, he climaxed forcefully, the light-blue cotton protecting his clothing from his semen.
Unaware of the sexual activity taking place within a few feet of his bed, Tom continued to rest peacefully. As Booker's breathing slowed, he continued to stare into the sleeping face of the man who was the object of his affection, and his dark eyes filled with adoration. Tom had not only captivated his heart, he had captivated his soul and he doubted he would ever find another individual who had the ability to take his breath away just by being in the same room as him. The level of his emotion was both intoxicating and terrifying. Tom occupied his thoughts day and night, and he spent his time thinking of ways to make contact, to evoke a look, a touch, even an angry diatribe was enough to set his heart racing with deep yearning. He was trapped in a web of seduction, and he was happy to stay there forever on the off chance Tom might decide he was worthy of his affection.
Sighing heavily, he wiped his sticky fingers on the soiled bed sheet and tucking himself away, he sat up. A loud burp reverberated from between his lips, leaving the foul taste of stale beer in his mouth and he grimaced in disgust. There was no clock in the small room, but judging by the loud voices that echoed outside their door, he figured it was still early morning, and most of the students were getting ready to go about their day. It was the last week of freedom before the semester started, a time to decorate dorms, explore the campus, or spend time relaxing before the hectic schedule of studying began. The bustling activity in the hallway sounded thrilling, but he did not feel jealous. He had never enjoyed the companionship of others and his time at college, although not as bad as high school, had not been the best years of his life. His combative attitude and tendency to mock his peers before they had a chance to mock him had not won him many friends. The small circle of people he had considered his companions tended to be the outcasts and misfits, the ones whose faces mirrored his own insecurities and false bravado. They formed a bond because of the diversity of their characters, and even though he had lost contact with them all, they still held a special place in his heart.
Raking a hand through his sleep-tousled hair, he yawned loudly and staggered to his feet. He could still feel the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed the night before, and the desire to shower and brush his teeth became the number one priority on his to-do list. But as he grabbed his toiletries and a towel, his gaze once again fell on Tom’s sleeping face, and a cheeky smile tilted his lips. He knew he should leave well enough alone, but he could not resist teasing Tom again, and sitting on the edge of his bed, he savored the moment for a second before tracing a light finger over the young officer’s face. “Wakey, wakey, Hanson,” he crooned softly.
An incoherent mumble was the only response Booker received and smothering a laugh, he ran his fingers through Tom’s tousled hair. “C’mon, beautiful, time to get up.”
A lazy smile played over Tom’s lips, and he slowly opened his eyes. But when he saw Booker sitting next to him, he let out a yelp of surprise and pushing up onto his elbows, he gazed at his adversary with wide, startled eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”
Booker winked suggestively, a broad grin lighting up his face. “Nothing,” he replied innocently.
Pulling the covers up to his chin, Tom stared at the dark-haired officer with distrust. “You were stroking my hair… you called me beautiful.”
It took all of Booker’s willpower to stifle the laugh that threatened to bubble from his throat. “I never touched you. Sorry to ruin your fantasy, Tommy, but you must have been dreaming.”
Tom’s face flushed red, and his left eye twitched nervously. “No, I wasn’t,” he replied in a rush of words, but his expression was unsure, and he blinked uncertainly, his blush deepening.
Feeling a little guilty, but unwilling to admit to his prank, Booker patted Tom on the shoulder and rising to his feet, he walked to the door. “I’ll meet you for breakfast in the dining hall. Okay?”
Confused by the early morning events, Tom slowly nodded his head. “Yeah, okay. See you there.”
As he left the room, Booker felt another pang of remorse, but his contrition did not suppress the grin that twitched at his lips. The bewildered look in Tom’s eyes had made the joke worthwhile, and he knew it would be difficult to contain his mischievous side while they were spending so much time together.
In his eyes, the fun had only just begun.
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Beneath a Heart of Darkness