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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
- 58
- 59
- 60
This is it, the final TWO chapters of 'Beneath a Heart of Darkness'. Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. A big hug to vidalhbea for giving me the encouragement to keep writing these tales. Love ya, girl!
In peace,
OpenPage x

Three days later
The private function room of the BoHo was packed with off-duty police officers, their animated conversations muffled by the sound of the live band playing on a makeshift stage at the back of the room. From his position at the bar, Booker watched Tom as he laughed and chatted to Ioki and Hoffs, his face a picture of happiness, the stress of the past few months temporarily forgotten. For the dark-haired officer, Tom’s send-off was important, a rite of passage he more than deserved after serving his city and its people with such bravery and honesty. His lover had been an exceptional cop, and he knew in his heart, whatever career path Tom chose, he would excel. Hanson always went above and beyond the call of duty, and Booker envied the people who would benefit from his intelligence and ingenuity. He would miss that in the field, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that after a hard day’s work, he would come home to the man he adored. They had the rest of their lives to spend together, the unknown ups and downs adding an element of intrigue to what was sure to be an exciting ride, despite the hardships they’d endured.
Out of the corner of his eye, Booker saw Penhall approach, and he steeled himself for what he was sure would be a barbed comment. But he was taken aback when the officer greeted him with a friendly clap on the back. “Hey, Booker.”
Booker replied with a nod of his head. “Hey, Doug. Great party.”
Nostalgia relaxed the edges of Penhall’s mouth. “He looks happy,” he murmured, his gaze fixing on Tom’s smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him so relaxed.”
“Yeah,” Booker agreed. “It hasn’t been easy, but I think he’s finally starting to heal.”
“Thanks to you.”
Surprise arched Booker’s eyebrows. “Do you really mean that?”
Sensing an opportunity, Penhall grabbed Booker by the arm and steered him into an adjoining bar. The near empty room afforded them some level of privacy, and taking a seat at a table, Penhall motioned for Booker to join him. The confession he was about to make was long overdue and feeling awkward, it took him a moment to find his voice. “When I found out what happened at the frat house, I swore I’d make you pay for what you did to Tom.”
There was no malice in Penhall’s words. It was a simple statement of fact, an admission of guilt with an undertone of remorse inflected in the softly spoken delivery. His love for Tom had blinded him to Booker’s true intentions, and he wanted to apologize so they could put the past behind them and move forward as friends.
Unsure how to respond, Booker’s lips twitched at the corners. “Um, okay.”
Exhaling a weighty sigh, Penhall rested his palms on the table as he struggled to make himself understood. “What I’m trying to say is, I was wrong. I treated you like shit, and I was wrong. You didn’t hurt Tom, you were there for him when no one else was, and even though I’m still kinda uncomfortable with the two of you as a couple, I’m grateful to you for helping him through the most difficult time of his life. I owe you, Booker. I owe you for giving me my Tommy back.”
It was the strangest apology Booker had ever received, but the sentiment behind the clumsily composed admission had a profound effect on him. He had thought he’d have to go throughout his working life forever burdened with the stigma of being labeled a rapist. But it appeared his toughest critic was finally prepared to admit he was wrong, and with that apology came a glimmer of hope. Perhaps his life at Jump Street would return to normal, and he would once again, feel a part of a team. A lot had changed since that fateful day when he and Tom had walked down the steps to the Pi Tau basement. They had innocently believed they could handle whatever ritualistic practice the fraternity used as their rite of passage, but the reality had been far more disturbing. A part of both men had died in that basement, and when they had staggered out of the Folk Victorian house, battered, bleeding, and broken, they had left their former lives behind them. For Tom, the worst had already happened, for Booker, the worst was still to come. And so began a three-month nightmare, with each man fighting their own private battle before joining forces and uniting as one. It was then the healing had started, and despite the unforeseen challenges they had faced, they had continued to fight through the pain, emerging stronger, wiser, and with their heads held high. Individually, they floundered, but together, they somehow managed to survive. While they had no idea what their future held, they no longer lived in fear of their past. Whatever the outcome of the court case, they would continue to move forward by helping each other over life’s hurdles because unlike so many others, theirs was an eternal love. Together, forever, always, until death do them part, and even then, their souls would reunite, and they would continue their journey as one.
The apology was unexpected, but after digesting the meaning behind the heartfelt words, Booker’s face relaxed into a smile. “Thanks, Doug,” he murmured, “That means a lot.”
Pushing back his chair, Penhall stood up. “Don’t go getting all sappy on me, Booker,” he grinned, the twinkle in his eyes revealing his teasing side. “I still think you’re an asshole.”
With a chuckle, Booker rose to his feet. “You know what, Penhall, I can live with that.”
The two men exchanged an intimate look, and with a companionable nod of their heads, they returned to the party.
**
Tom flopped onto the bed, his long lashes sweeping over his eyes as a small sigh escaped from between the dreamy smile playing over his lips. “That was fun.”
An emotional lump formed in Booker’s throat, but he quickly swallowed it down. It was Tom’s night, and even though the farewell party had marked the end of an era for his lover, it was also the start of new beginnings, and he wasn’t about to ruin it by getting all melancholy. The rest of the night was theirs to enjoy, and he hoped they might pick up where they’d left off, so he could finally shower Tom with the love he deserved.
Kicking off his boots, the dark-haired officer crawled onto the bed on his hands and knees. His body hovered over Tom, the desirous glow in his dark eyes revealing the intensity of his longing, and when his lover beckoned him forward with a slow, inviting smile, he dipped his head and claimed his mouth. The kiss was warm and tender, and when strong arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, he knew he’d received the green light. However, he was careful not to come across too dominant and taking his time, he traced the tip of his tongue along the seam of Tom’s lips, gently caressing before seeking entrance. He was instantly rewarded, and sliding his tongue inside the warm, welcoming mouth, he savored the whiskey flavor infused in Tom’s saliva. When the tip of his lover’s tongue grazed his, he exhaled a low moan, and relaxing his muscles, he melted into Tom’s hard length, his simmering blood lengthening his cock as he sought friction from the warm body below. He could feel his lover’s hardness pressing against him, and the burgeoning ache throbbing through his shaft intensified, demanding satisfaction. It was a hunger unlike any other, a feeding of the soul through touch and taste alone, the sensory feast filling the emptiness inside and setting his skin on fire. Beneath him, Tom’s body writhed, his erection seeking its own reward, and breaking the kiss, Booker gazed down into the face that still managed to send his heart aflutter.
“Do you wanna get naked, baby?” he whispered, barely daring to hope that this night might be the night they came together as one.
Tom’s eyes shone black, his pupils swamping his brown irises, and without a moment’s hesitation, he nodded his head. “Yes.”
Overcome with emotion, Booker leaned forward and tenderly brushed his lips over Tom’s enticing pout. “God, I love you.”
At that exact moment, Tom knew Booker had made the right choice to spurn his advances in the shower. Everything they had endured during the last three months had been for a reason, each trauma and triumph helping to shape their lives, bringing them together and ultimately leading them to this exact moment in time. It was providential. The Moirai, the ancient white-robed incarnations of destiny, had spun out the thread of his future life, followed his faltering steps, and directed the consequences of his actions according to the counsel of the gods. Booker had started off as his nemesis and through all the twists and turns, had come out the other side his friend, confidante, and lover. What had started out as a horror story was quickly becoming a fairy tale. His prince was about to bestow upon him the ultimate gift, the gift of love, and he was more than ready to accept the present and forget the past. He no longer felt his rape defined him. He was Tom Hanson, son, friend, ex-cop, lover, and survivor, and his life was only just beginning, except this time, he had Dennis Booker by his side.
With a slow, tender smile, Tom brushed a stray strand of hair from Booker’s eyes. He owed his lover so much, and he wanted him to know just how much he adored him. “Not as much as I love you,” he whispered, his dark eyes shining brightly. “You’re my everything.”
“Not gonna waste time arguing,” Booker breathed, his lips trailing soft, wet kisses along the edge of Tom’s chiseled jaw. “I wanna see some flesh.”
A groan rumbled in the back of Tom’s throat, and his heavily-lidded eyes sparkled with arousal. “You first.”
With a mischievous grin, Booker quickly stripped off his clothes. Once naked, he settled himself between Tom’s trembling thighs, his rigid cock protruding proudly from a mass of dark curls, his coal-black eyes shimmering in the light from the bedside lamp. Keen to get things moving, he took hold of Tom’s left ankle and carefully unlaced his boot. It took several tugs to liberate it from Tom’s foot, but once free, he tossed it to the floor, along with his sock. After repeating the process with the right boot and sock, he cradled Tom’s foot in his hand and lightly peppered the sensitive sole with soft kisses before taking the big toe into his mouth and sucking deeply. The bridge of Tom’s nose wrinkled in delight, and his body squirmed beneath the tender ministrations. Grinning against the warm flesh, Booker gently lowered Tom’s leg and turned his attention to the dark blue shirt concealing his lover’s slender torso. With nimble fingers, he popped the buttons one by one, slowly revealing the smooth, taut flesh shrouded beneath. Spreading open the soft folds of material, he ducked his head and licked a wet trail from navel to chest. His tongue flicked over the nub of Tom’s left nipple, teasing it to hardness before he continued his journey back down the canvas of silky skin, leaving a trail of red hickeys in his wake. He traced the contours of Tom’s stomach muscles with his tongue, his light, teasing caresses moving him ever closer to his destination, the scent of sex drawing him in, and when his chin grazed the hard mound of his lover’s erection, he smiled against the warm flesh. Shuffling further down the bed, he mouthed over the enticing bulge, sucking at the abrasive denim, the sensation of Tom’s cock twitching beneath him heightening his own arousal. Long fingers entwined in his hair, silently urging him on, and lifting his head, he suppressed a smile. “Are you trying to tell me something, baby?”
Light sparkled from Tom’s brown eyes, his flushed cheeks giving him an almost angelic appearance. But the breathless words that tumbled from his lips quickly dispelled that image. “I want you to suck me.”
A Cheshire cat grin spread over Booker’s face, and sitting up, he waggled his eyebrows as he popped the button of Tom’s jeans. Beneath him, Tom squirmed, desperate for his lover’s hot mouth to consume him, but Booker ignored him. He wanted the moment to last, and taking his time, he unzipped Tom’s jeans, one agonizingly slow tooth at a time. Once unfastened, Tom decided to speed up the process, and lifting his hips, he shoved down the binding denim. Amused, Booker took his time releasing Tom’s legs, his brows pulled together in mock concentration. He knew he was toying with Tom, but the sexual hunger burning in his lover’s eyes had him savoring every moment. Tom wanted him, he needed him, and Booker was going to make sure every touch, every sound burnt into his memory so he could relive their first time over and over again, until the day he departed life’s mortal coil.
Free from the offending denim, Tom pushed down his boxers, revealing his magnificent erection. Now liberated, it lay flat against his belly, the bubble of pre-cum glistening on the head begging to be licked. Unable to resist the erotic sight, Booker untangled Tom’s legs from his underwear and pressing his tongue against the underside of the hard shaft, he trailed a wet path along his lover’s penile raphe before devouring the saliferous fluid weeping from the shiny head. Once again, long fingers tangled in his hair, rougher this time, pushing him down, the urgency behind the action sending shivers of arousal down Booker’s spine. He was careful not to stimulate Tom too much, and he used his tongue rather than his mouth to caress the hard flesh pushing between his lips. But when another burst of pre-cum danced over his taste buds, he released the swollen member from between his lips and pushed open Tom’s legs. Cupping his lover’s testicles in his hand, he lightly sucked at the soft folds of skin while his index finger moved in soft, feathery strokes over Tom’s perineum, inching ever closer to his anus. When he reached his destination, he gently pressed the tip against the puckered hole without gaining access. Instantly, the muscles in Tom’s body stiffened. It wasn’t an encouraging sign and moving his hand, Booker peered up from between his lover’s legs.
Two dark panicked eyes met his gaze, and sitting up, he reached out and gently caressed Tom’s flushed cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, regret reflected in his soft brown eyes. “I guess I misread the signals.”
Tom’s lips twitched at the edges, his face flaming a darker shade of red, and taking Booker’s hand in his, he squeezed his fingers. “You didn’t… I mean, I want you to touch me, it’s just, I dunno…”
His voice trailed off, and averting his gaze, he stared, through tear-filled eyes, at the darkness framed within the bedroom window. Once again, he felt like a prick tease. He’d given Booker false hope… except, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he hadn’t. Deep down inside, he wanted it, more than he’d wanted anything in his life, but the memories of his rape had his body and mind recoiling in fear instead of welcoming Booker’s tender touch with love and trust. It was a question of mind over matter. He either allowed his rape to keep him suspended within a bubble of anxiety, or he broke free and embraced love to the fullest. The choice was his.
With his mind made up, he twisted his body sideways, and opening his bureau drawer, he rummaged around until he found a tube of lubrication and a packaged condom. Although nervous, he felt comfortable with his decision, and closing his fist around the items, he offered them to Booker with a trembling hand. “Here,” he murmured, trust blazing from his dark orbs. “I want you to show me what real love is.”
A myriad of emotions played over Booker’s face; surprise, disbelief, uncertainty, admiration, until finally, his expression relaxed into one of pure love. With an unsteady hand, he took the proffered supplies and placed them on the mattress. As he caught Tom’s eye, his heart dipped, and he dropped to his hands so he could plant a tender kiss on his lover’s lips. “Are you sure, baby?” he breathed against the plump, inviting flesh. “I don’t want to pressure you.”
With a shy smile, Tom whispered his answer. “I’m sure.”
Heat flared in the pit of Booker’s stomach, and sitting up, he unscrewed the cap of the small tube, and liberally coated his fingers in the oily substance, his eyes never leaving Tom’s intense gaze. Tossing the lube onto the mattress, he stroked a slick finger up the underside of his lover’s cock. “We’ll take it slow, okay? We can stop any time.”
Cocooned within the tenderness and concern of his lover’s words, Tom nodded. When a finger gently pressed against his opening, he swallowed deeply and concentrating on his breathing, he tried to control his rising panic. But the gentle pressure pushing inside him was nothing like the violence of his rape, and as Booker’s finger inched inside, he focused on the strange sensation. While not the most pleasant feeling, it wasn’t painful, and slowly, his muscles started to relax, allowing his lover easier access.
When Booker felt the tight wall of muscle surrounding his finger loosen, he withdrew the digit to the tip and carefully inserted a second finger. Crooking his middle finger, he expertly found Tom’s prostate and lightly caressed the lobes. Instinctively, Tom’s body bore down, his weight pushing the digit against his gland. A shiver of arousal ran down his spine, and the light flickering in his eyes brightened as a throaty moan escaped his lips. “Oooh.”
“Does it feel good, beautiful?” Booker murmured, his eyes gorging on the erotic sight of his fingers moving in and out of his lover’s anus.
“So good,” Tom breathed, his eyes fluttering closed. All memories of his assault had vanished the moment Booker’s fingers stimulated his prostate, and it was then he truly understood the difference between sex and rape. Sexual abuse was all about dominance, whereas the true act of intercourse was the physical practice of intimacy between two consenting adults. Whether it be for love or simply pleasure, there was no connection to the violence he had suffered at the hands of the Pi Taus. Sex and rape were not synonymous, each deed was motivated by conflicting needs; rape by power, and sex by an inherent human yearning. And as his body succumbed to the sensual gratification Booker lovingly bestowed upon him, Tom knew, although he may never completely heal, he was finally at peace with the world. It had taken many months, but he had found the freedom to move forward and start living his life without the baggage of his past weighing him down.
Looking down into Tom’s relaxed face, Booker sensed an inner harmony radiating from within his soul, an aura of calm he hadn’t seen before, and he dared to ask the question. “Do you want me to make love to you, Tommy?”
Tom’s eyelids opened, and gazing up at his lover, he answered without a tremor of hesitation. “Yes.”
A kaleidoscope of passion channeled out through Booker’s eyes. The moment he had dreamed about was finally becoming a reality, and as Tom hurriedly shrugged out of his shirt, he ripped open the condom packet and expertly sheathed his cock. “Lubricate me,” he instructed, his voice husky with emotion. “Make me nice and slick.”
Eager to please, Tom squirted a generous dollop of oil into his palm and liberally coated his lover’s erection. The feel of delicate fingers moving over his aching shaft was almost Booker’s undoing, and biting down on his lower lip, he concentrated on not blowing his load. Once satisfied, Tom spread his legs and raised his knees to his chest. Gazing up at Booker with large, innocent eyes, his abdomen rose and fell as he drew in slow, shallow breaths, his body trembling with longing. The time had come, and he was ready.
Booker's eyes soaked up the wondrous sight laid out before him. It was incredibly erotic, yet ever so trusting, and tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Oh, baby,” he whispered. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
Another shy smile graced Tom’s lips, and pulling his lover forward, he kissed him tenderly. “Make love to me,” he breathed.
Love shone from Booker’s eyes, and bracing his left hand against the firm mattress, he used his right hand to guide his erection until the tip pressed against Tom’s anus. “I love you,” he murmured, and taking a deep breath, he pushed inside.
The exquisite sensation of a thick cock filling the emptiness inside him was unlike anything Tom had ever experienced. A fiery heat spread over his naked flesh, the intense gratification awakening every nerve from head to toe. He had never felt more alive, more in tune with his own body, and he physically ached for what he knew would be the best sex of his life.
With a tenderness born from experience and understanding, Booker slowly rocked his hips forward and backward, the gentle force stimulating his lover’s prostate. His lovemaking was considerate yet passionate, restrained yet evocative, and he basked in the sensation of his slick cock sliding in and out of Tom's tight anus. The erogenous titillation wasn't just physical, it was emotional too because he was finally with the man he adored, and he knew whatever happened, theirs was a love that would never die.
As the tip of Booker’s penis continued to graze his prostate, it didn't take long for Tom to succumb to his lover's tender ministrations. Pre-cum wept from his cock, and overcome with emotion, he grasped hold of his lover’s upper arms, his nails biting into the tanned flesh. “Oh, Dennis… harder… oh God, it feels so… oh… harder… harder… harder!”
At the sound of his name, Booker’s gentle pushes became an uncontrolled piston of frantic thrusts, the upward motion forcing his cock deeper inside his lover’s inner sanctum. Tom’s buttocks bounced against the mattress, the forward momentum propelling his body back and forth in rhythm to Booker’s lovemaking. Every inch of him screamed to be touched, his nerves singing a high-pitched song of lust, and want, and need. Unsatisfied, his arms wrapped around his lover’s neck, forcefully pulling him down until he lay on top of him, their sweat-soaked chests sliding against each other, melding their bodies as one. They found each other’s mouths, teeth clashing, tongues plundering, their animalistic instincts taking control. The friction of Booker’s belly rubbing against his cock had Tom moaning into the cavernous mouth devouring him, the double stimulation pushing him to the brink, and with a full body tremor, his testicles elevated, and he ejaculated, coating both their chests in his saliferous fluid.
Breaking the kiss, Booker’s dark eyes locked on Tom, and with one final thrust, his back arched, and with a long drawn out moan, he too, shuddered out his release.
The scent of sex filled the room, adding weight to the stuffy atmosphere, the only sound, the labored gasps of both men echoing off the walls in faltering discord as they each struggled to catch their breath. It was a song of fulfillment, the primordial pant of their ancestors, and eventually, their breathing fell into rhythm, once again uniting them as one.
Gently disengaging, Booker pulled Tom into his arms. “Happy?” he asked, as he lovingly sucked his lover’s kiss-swollen lips.
“Perfectly,” Tom breathed with a contented sigh before pulling away and staring at Booker with worried eyes. “Are you?”
A slow loving smile tugged at the corners of Booker’s lips. “Baby, I’ve never been happier.”
Satisfied, Tom closed his eyes, safe in the knowledge he was loved by the man he adored. He had no idea what the future held, nor did he want to, but what he did know for certain was he would not have to walk it alone.
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Beneath a Heart of Darkness