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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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Thursday July 9th 1992 (5.58 a.m.)
The sensation of a moist tongue swirling around the indentation of his navel woke Booker from a restful sleep and groaning softly, he opened his eyes to the sight of Tom's brown hair bobbing in front of him. A languid smile played over his lips and sighing contentedly, he lovingly ran his fingers through the soft peaks of his lover’s mussed-up tresses. “Mmm, you should wake me up like this every morning.”
Tom lifted his head, a shy smile tilting his lips. “Do you want me to keep going?” he asked in a low, husky voice.
“Maybe,” Booker replied with a flirtatious waggle of his eyebrows. “But maybe I wanna play with you too.”
Trailing a finger up the length of Booker’s cock, Tom flicked out his tongue and licked his lips suggestively. “Well, we could do that swarson nerf thing again,” he proposed with a sexy grin.
An amused smile curled Booker’s lips, and he choked back a laugh. “I think you mean a soixante-neuf.”
“Whatever,” Tom dismissed with an impatient roll of his eyes. “Do you wanna fool around or not?”
“I want to,” Booker replied in a rush of words, his pupils dilating at the thought of taking Tom into his mouth and pleasuring him until his lover’s juices flowed. “Do you want to top or bottom?”
“How ‘bout we do it the lazy way,” Tom propositioned with a wink and crawling over Booker’s legs, he lay on the mattress with his mouth opposite his lover’s groin.
Rolling onto his side, Booker shuddered as Tom’s warm breath titillated his sensitive cockhead. “Ready?” he rasped, and without waiting for an answer, he lightly grasped the base of Tom’s cock and pressing his lips against the smooth head, he sucked on the tip. At the same moment, a warm, moist mouth engulfed his cock, and a low moan rumbled in the back of his throat as Tom’s full lips moved up and down his shaft. He mirrored the action and taking Tom’s testicles into his hand, he tugged gently. He was immediately rewarded when tender fingers began playing with his balls, and he moaned against the hardening shaft swelling in his mouth.
He was in heaven.
The two men soon fell into a synchronized tempo, their heads bobbing back and forth in unison and moments later, the strong saliferous flavor of precum awakened Booker’s taste buds. He began to double his efforts when the warm lips sucking him off suddenly vanished, leaving him wanting and releasing Tom’s erection from his mouth, he opened his eyes and gazed at his lover.
Tom’s cheeks glowed a rosy shade of pink and his bare chest rapidly rose and fell from the excitement of their coupling. Fearing the worst, Booker sat up. “Tommy, is everything okay?”
Pushing himself into a sitting position, Tom bit down seductively on his lower lip. “I wanna feel you inside me," he confessed softly, his long, thick lashes framing his sparkling eyes. “I want you to make love to me, Dennis.”
Booker’s dark eyes grew wide, and his lips formed a surprised O before he quickly gathered his wits. “Oh, baby,” he whispered in a voice filled with emotion.
With a roguish grin curling his full lips, Tom shuffled to the bottom of the bed and slowly crawled forward on his hands and knees, pausing occasionally to dip his head so he could kiss and suck at the trembling flesh of his lover's inner thigh. When he reached Booker's groin, he swept his tongue up the underside of his erect cock from root to tip, laughing softly when the dark haired officer collapsed against the pillows with an excited moan. When he was straddling Booker’s thighs, he sat back on his heels and playfully waggled his eyebrows. “Anytime you’re ready, Officer.”
Without pause, Dennis yanked open the bedside drawer, the force almost pulling it from its runners. His hand frantically searched through the detritus until he found what he was looking for and with a triumphant smile, he held up a condom and a brand new tube of lubrication.
Tom laughed and taking the condom, he ripped open the packaging and expertly rolled it onto his lover's erection. Next, he took the lubrication and coating his fingers in the slippery oil, he applied a liberal amount to Booker’s sheathed cock before taking him by the hand and oiling up his fingers. Satisfied that they were good to go, he started to rise when Booker pulled his hand away. “Wait.”
Tom’s brow knitted into a frown. “What's wrong?” he asked in a confused voice.
Smiling cheekily, Booker placed his hands on Tom’s hips and lifting him off his thighs, he shuffled backward so he was half sitting, half lying with his head propped against the pillows. “Move forward,” he instructed in a husky voice.
A glimmer of understanding flashed across Tom’s face and inching forward on his knees, he positioned himself above Booker’s groin.
“Now I can fuck you and suck you,” Booker murmured with sparkling eyes.
With a shiver of excited anticipation, Tom guided his lover’s slick hand between his legs and pressed an oily finger against his hole. “Don’t stimulate me,” he warned in a breathless voice. “Not yet.”
Booker nodded his head and carefully inserted his finger. After several minutes of gentle probing, he inserted a second finger, and when he was happy that Tom was stretched enough to receive him, he carefully withdrew. Tom’s eyes burned bright and wrapping his hand around the base of Booker’s shaft, he positioned the tip against his anus and slowly bore down.
“Yesss,” Booker hissed as his eyes took in the erotic sight of Tom’s cock jutting proudly out in front of him, the tip glistening with precum. He could feel his lover’s taut thighs trembling as he rocked his hips forward and backward with growing momentum and a grin lit up his face. “Fuck, yes.”
Placing one hand behind Booker’s neck, Tom leaned back and steadied himself on the other. “Suck me,” he moaned as his hips thrust steadily back and forth.
Booker’s dark eyes shone bright and sitting forward, he rested on his elbows and bending his knees, he spread open his legs, ducked his head forward and took his lover into his mouth. With Tom’s hand steadying his head, he allowed him to thrust between his lips, and once again, the unique saliferous flavor he adored filled his mouth, and he moaned in pleasure. His hands rested lightly on Tom’s moving thighs, and his eyes remained open, capturing the erotic sight of his lover's cock moving between his lips. He wanted Tom to feel in control, to have the power to slow things down if he wanted to. But most of all, he wanted him to have the best sex he had ever had and to feel the love that swelled within his heart every single day.
He wanted him to feel whole.
Sweat glistened on Tom’s scarred chest, and tiny rivulets ran down his torso, the droplets coming to rest in the dark mass of his pubic hair. The feel of Booker’s mouth and cock stimulating him at the same time was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and his thrusting soon became frenetic. The sight of his cock sliding between his lover’s lips coupled with the sensual heat burning inside him was so titillating he knew he would not last long, and his eyes fluttered closed. “Oh, Dennis,” he groaned softly. “Oh, Dennis… Oh, Dennis… Oh, Dennis…”
When the flavor of Tom’s juices mixing with his saliva intensified, Booker released him from his mouth.
Tom’s eyes flew open, and he gazed down with frantic eyes. “Don’t stop!” he cried. “Oh, God, Dennis, don’t stop!”
As Tom’s cock bounced erotically against his belly, Booker’s gaze remained transfixed. “Fuck, you look so hot right now,” he breathed and placing his hands on Tom's hips, his lips drew back in a salacious grin. “That's it, baby. Ride me, ride me hard.”
“Dennis,” Tom gasped. “Dennis, please suck me!”
Booker’s eyes flashed black. “Nuh uh,” he teased, his breath coming out in ragged puffs. “I wanna see you come.”
“Please please please…” Tom panted, his body rocking faster as Booker’s cock slammed against his prostate. “Oh, Dennis, oh, God, oh, oh, oh, OOOH!”
Warm semen splattered against Booker’s chest and feeling his orgasm rising, his fingernails bit into Tom's flesh. Arching his head backward, he slammed Tom’s body down onto his cock and bucked his hips upwards as an ecstatic cry spilled from between his lips. “TOMMEEE!”
Falling forward, Tom devoured Booker’s mouth, their lips mashing together and their tongues clashing with an animalistic hunger as they continued to shudder out their release. The aroma of sex hung in the air, the heavy scent fueling their inherent primordial need to taste each other, touch each other, dominate each other. They nipped and groped until eventually their bodies relaxed, and slowing the kiss, Tom sucked playfully on Booker’s lower lip before pulling away and disengaging himself in an ungainly tangle of limbs. With a contented sigh, he rolled onto the mattress and throwing an arm around Booker’s waist, he snuggled against his warm body and closed his eyes.
Turning his head, Booker looked at the digital clock on his bureau and let out a groan. “I’m late for work.”
When he received no answer, he looked down into Tom’s tranquil face. “You can’t be serious,” he muttered in disbelief. But seconds later, a tender smile curled at the corners of his lips and leaning forward, he kissed Tom's sweaty forehead. “See you tonight.”
“Mmmkay,” Tom mumbled incoherently.
Booker grinned broadly and gently removing Tom’s arm from around his waist, he climbed from the bed and walked into the bathroom.
**
Ten weeks later - Thursday September 17th, 1992 (6.58 p.m.)
As the setting sun cast its final rays across the city, Tom climbed the worn steps into a gray brick apartment building. He glanced at the elevator for a moment before deciding he needed the exercise and grasping hold of the banister, he slowly limped up the stairs. His lungs soon burned with the exertion, his chest rising and falling rapidly with heavy, panting breaths and when he reached the fourth floor, he briefly considered giving up and riding the elevator the remaining two floors. However, his dogged determination kept him moving, and when he finally reached the sixth floor, he pushed open the fire door with a grunt. Entering the brightly lit corridor, he quickly orientated himself and turning left, he walked down the blue-carpeted hallway and stopped outside of apartment 614. The sudden onset of nerves caused an unwelcome churning in his stomach and closing his eyes, he slowly counted to ten. Once he was confident he would not make a fool of himself, he raised his hand and rapped his knuckles loudly on the door.
The door opened, and Harry’s shocked face displayed his surprise. The officer’s eyes darted up and down the corridor, and when he realized Tom was alone, his visage changed to one of worry, and tension lines creased his brow. “Hanson, is everything okay?”
A nervous smile twitched at the corners of Tom’s lips, and he rubbed a self-conscious hand over his mouth. “Yeah, everything’s great, it’s just… can I speak to you?”
Somewhat taken aback by the request, Harry remained in the doorway for several moments before stepping back and holding open the door. “Sure,” he replied with a smile. “C’mon in.”
Tom paused for a moment before entering the apartment that had once been his home for a week. It seemed incredulous to him that three long years had passed since Harry had taken him in after his fight with Booker, and he gazed around the neat home with curious eyes. Not much had changed except for a new bookcase that stood where a small bureau had once been, its shelves methodically stacked with books in both English and Vietnamese. A few photographs broke up the monotony of book spines lining the shelves and one photo in an attractive carved wooden frame immediately caught Tom’s eye. His body froze and he stared with a transfixed gaze at the image of Harry and Judy’s smiling faces. The photograph looked recent and his brow knitted into a deep frown. He had assumed once Jump Street had disbanded that Booker and Harry were the only ones who had stayed in touch because they worked together. But it appeared Harry and Judy were still friends, and he suddenly wondered if Booker had purposely kept the information from him. As he stared at the picture, another more disturbing thought crossed his mind and his frown deepened. IfHarry and Judy were friends, then in all likelihood, Dennis and Judy were friends too, and cold tendrils of resentment wrapped around his heart, chilling him to the bone. He felt deceived and at that moment, he wondered what other secrets his lover had kept from him.
Harry’s voice cut through the silence. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“Um, sure. Soda if you’ve got it,” Tom replied absently and moving over to the bookcase, he picked up the photo and traced a finger over Judy’s smiling face. A pang of regret seared his heart, instantly melting away the bitterness. They had all been friends, once upon a time, a close-knit group who had enjoyed socializing outside of work together. Even after Amy’s untimely death, he had forced himself to fraternize by slapping on a happy face and pretending he was still Tom Hanson, when in reality, he was nothing more than a ghost. He had played his part well, and none of his friends had suspected he was falling apart. Then Booker had come on the scene and in only a matter of months, he had seen through his charade. Although he had not known him well enough to identify his shattered psyche, Booker had been perceptive enough to perceive a crack. Without the dark haired officer’s dogged persistence, in all probability, he would not be standing in Harry’s apartment, holding a photograph and reminiscing about broken friendships. He would be living in the gutter, addicted to drugs and whoring himself to an early grave. Or worse, he could be dead already.
The intentional sound of Harry clearing his throat brought him back to the present with a thud and placing the photograph on the shelf, he turned around with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have been snooping.”
With a light shrug of his shoulders, Harry handed Tom a can of Pepsi. “It was taken a few months ago,” he stated by way of explanation. “We still catch up when we can, but work makes it kinda difficult, you know how it is.”
A small, embarrassed smile twitched at Tom’s lips, and he lowered his gaze to the floor. Years ago, he had known how difficult it was to maintain friendships while working a demanding job, but not anymore. Now he had no friends except for Booker, and he did not have a job.
He was, in the practical sense, alone.
Sensing Tom’s discomfit, Harry mentally kicked himself. “Sorry,” he apologized quickly. “That was insensitive. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
Tom lifted his gaze and smiled a sad smile. “I know you didn’t,” he reassured softly. “No need to apologize.”
An awkward silence hung heavily between them and taking a sip of his drink, Tom pulled out a folded envelope from his back pocket and handed it to Harry. “Um, this is for you. Happy birthday.”
A look of genuine surprise crossed over Harry’s face and taking the envelope from Tom’s hand, he ripped it open and pulled out the card. As he read the words, his expression softened and placing a hand on Tom’s shoulder, he gave it a friendly squeeze. “Thanks, Hanson. That means a lot.”
Tom shoved his free hand into his pocket and rocked on his heels, his discomfort evident. “I… er… I never really apologized for what happened at the warehouse. I want you to know that I’m sorry for the pain you went through and—”
“Don’t,” Harry interjected quietly. “If I’d been a better friend, I would have realized Amy’s death had affected you more than you let on. The past is in the past, let’s move forward and start over. Okay?”
Tears of emotion filled Tom’s eyes. “Really?” he whispered, almost too afraid to believe that Harry had forgiven him.
“Really,” Harry replied with a grin before offering his hand. “Friends?”
Without pause, Tom took Harry’s hand in his and shook it firmly. “Friends,” he reiterated with a smile.
Another long silence followed their somewhat clumsy reconciliation and chewing self-consciously on his lower lip, Tom finally asked the question that was now foremost on his mind. “Do you think Judy will ever forgive me?”
When Harry spoke, the answer was not what Tom had expected. “Why don’t you go see her and find out?”
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Chasing a Butterfly