Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Cries of a Shadow	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 2757 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Dawn’s early morning light crept over the city, the varying shades of amber emanating from the horizon bringing life to the city’s shapeless skyline. Outside Booker’s apartment, the resident sparrows began their morning song of joy, their cheerful chirrup filtering through the dark-haired officer’s dream, pulling him toward consciousness. Moments later, his alarm sounded, the annoying bee-dee-dee-deep, bee-dee-dee-deep shattering what remained of his slumber. With a sigh, he rolled over and hit the off button, returning peace to the cramped room, and stifling a yawn, he speculated about the upcoming day. He’d arranged to meet Tom at the abandoned warehouse before school so they could discuss strategies. But after the previous night’s events, he wasn’t sure where their friendship stood. Tom had exposed his weakness, leaving Booker wondering if he could be bothered getting to know someone who wasn’t prepared to stand up and fight. While there was no denying he was physically attracted to the pretty officer, his lack of fortitude bothered him. He’d never come across anyone like Hanson before, and while the young officer’s uniqueness fascinated him, he was still unsure whether his eccentricities were a good thing or a bad thing. But after much thought, he figured only time would tell, and it was still too early to form an unbiased opinion.
With visions of Tom’s gentle smile now planted firmly inside his mind, the dark-haired officer found it increasingly difficult to ignore his growing arousal. His early morning erection tented his boxers, each thought of Tom thickening his already impressive cock. Although he felt guilty about masturbating to the images floating unrestrained inside his head, he was unwilling to give up the chance of a good wank, and rolling onto his back, he pushed down his boxers. As he ran the tip of his index finger up the length of his shaft, a throaty moan escaped his lips, the titillating sensation sending a delightful shiver down his spine. Closing his eyes, he formed a fist and pumped his hand up and down his shaft. There was no finesse in the desperate action, just an eagerness to get off, an unrestrained need to trigger the euphoric explosion his mind and body craved. He wasn’t usually so crass when it came to sex; he was an artist, a connoisseur who savored the performance as much as the climax. But on this morning, time was of the essence, and if he wanted to speak to Fuller before he met Tom, he needed to make do with a quickie.
Tremors of arousal ran down the length of his body as his fist pumped over his erection, the ragged hitch of his breath intermingling with the pleasant tweeting of the sparrows outside his window. Now fully erect, he could feel his orgasm rising, and a moment of guilt thumped in his heart. He briefly wondered what Tom would think if he knew he was jerking off while imagining it was his hand wrapped around his cock. But it was too late for regrets, and with a muffled cry, his body stiffened and thrusting his hips upward, he ejaculated over his stomach.
A post-climactic tranquility flowed through his body, the delightful tingle relaxing his muscles. But while he would have liked to lie back and enjoy the blissful calm, he didn’t want to keep Tom waiting any longer than he had to and rising out of his rumpled bed, he headed toward the bathroom.
**
In stark comparison to the previous night, Booker found the chapel’s central hub abuzz with chatter, the excited hum of voices breathing new life into the brown-brick building. It took longer than usual to cross the floor to Fuller’s office, the crowd of officers, criminals, and the occasional lawyer making it difficult for him to navigate the room. However, after much pushing and shoving, he eventually reached his destination, and lifting his hand, he rapped his knuckles on the closed door.
Silence met his request, and he knocked again, this time louder. He waited, the cacophony of noise behind him shattering what was left of his post-sexual gratification. But just when he thought he would have to barge into the office unannounced, a loud voice sounded from within. “ENTER!”
After taking a moment to compose himself, Booker turned the doorknob and walked in. “Hey, Cap’n, can I talk to you?”
Fuller gesticulated with a flap of his hand. “Close the door. I can’t hear myself think with all that noise.”
Booker did what he was asked before taking a seat. Fuller gave him the once over, his practiced eye picking up on the dark-haired officer’s unsettled demeanor, and surprise wrinkled his brow. Out of all his officers, he had never expected Booker to show any signs of uncertainty, yet there he was, his left leg jiggling nervously as his eyes roamed absently around the room. Something was up, but just what it was, he had no idea. However, he was a man of action, and without delay, he got straight to the point. “What can I do for you, Booker?”
Uncertainty clouded the dark-haired officer's eyes, and he swallowed several times in quick succession, the action working some much-needed saliva into his mouth. He was new to the team, and as an ex I.A.D. officer, he was sensitive about anyone labeling him a nark. But if he were going to have a successful working relationship with Tom, he needed some answers, and pushing down his misgivings, he spoke his mind. “Um...I was just wondering what you could tell me about Hanson. I mean, he seems like a great cop, but I don’t understand why he doesn’t stand up for himself. Has he always been this reserved or did something happen on the job?”
Fuller’s brow puckered into a deep frown. “Did you witness something, Booker? Because if one of my officers is being bullied, I want to know about it.”
Not wanting to report the previous night’s incident without Tom’s permission, Booker shook his head. “No, Coach,” he lied. “I was just curious, that’s all.”
Unconvinced, Fuller’s eyes narrowed as he studied Dennis’ face. But after a moment of careful scrutiny, he decided not to pursue the matter further. Hanson was an oddball, and most officers found him exasperating to work with. But Tom’s abilities far outweighed his idiosyncrasies, and over time, most came to accept his quirky behavior, even if they didn’t understand it. It wasn’t always easy, but he hoped Booker had enough insight to give his partner the benefit of the doubt before casting any aspersions.
Leaning forward, Adam Fuller looked his young charge straight in the eye. “I need a team who can work together. If you have a problem with one of my best officers, I suggest you work it out or think about transferring back to Internal Affairs. Understood?”
The comment took Booker by surprise. He hadn’t expected an ultimatum, and it was then he realized that despite Tom’s timid nature, he was an integral part of the undercover team. It was a valuable lesson, and he immediately regretted his decision to seek out his captain for answers. Tom was who he was, and although bewildered by the previous night’s events, the dark-haired officer knew he needed to ignore the gossip and take the time to get to know his partner better.
Rising to his feet, Booker offered Fuller a half smile. “There’s no problem, Coach. Sorry to have troubled you.”
Exhaling a weary sigh, Fuller’s shoulders slumped, briefly revealing a glimpse of the man whose job weighed heavily on his mind. “No, I’m sorry, Booker. Are you sure everything’s okay with you and Hanson because if not, I want—”
“Everything’s fine,” Booker interrupted, the burden of his regret squeezing his heart. Involving his captain had been a mistake, and he longed to put it behind him and make his escape. “Tom’s great. We work really well together.”
Relief twinkled in Fuller’s dark eyes. “Glad to hear it. I know Hanson’s a little...different, but he’s one of the best undercover officers I know. You’ll learn a lot from him.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I will,” Booker murmured. “Thanks, Cap’n.”
Fuller gave a slight nod of his head before returning to his paperwork. With nothing left to say, the dark-haired officer turned and exited the room.
**
Booker pulled up at the abandoned warehouse ten minutes later than arranged, and jumping from his car, he hurried toward the metal door. Once again, the frantic flapping and screeching cries of the resident starlings greeted him from above, their constant chatter destroying any chance of a stealthy approach. Flustered, he shoved open the heavy door, inwardly cringing as its rusty hinges groaned in protest. Despite his training, he had never felt so conspicuous, and he wondered if Tom had managed to gain access to the building without announcing his arrival. For some unknown reason, he felt like a rookie, which was strange, given his usual cocksure attitude. But he put it down to nervous excitement, and pulling himself up to his full height, he sauntered into the warehouse.
Sunlight filtered through a newly broken window, the luminous rays casting a natural spotlight on the lone figure sitting on a crate, head bowed, eyes staring at the floor. Even from a distance, there was an ethereal allure emanating from Tom, a quiet vulnerability that sent Booker’s nether regions aquiver. Heat flared in his cheeks as he fought to control his growing arousal. There was something about the young officer that revved his engine, and it wasn’t just his slender frame, his finely chiseled cheekbones or his perfectly bow-shaped lips that begged to be kissed. It was so much more than a physical attraction, it was the complexity of Tom’s emotional and spiritual allure that left him wanting. It was a magnetism unlike any he had ever felt before, and he wondered how he was supposed to work with someone he had such a boyish crush on.
Sensing Booker’s presence, Tom lifted his head. There was no smile this time, just a brief nod of acknowledgment. As Booker approached, he noticed how tired Tom looked, the dark smudges beneath his eyes accentuated against the paleness of his skin. Concerned, he hurried forward and laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hey, Hanson, are you okay? You look kinda beat.”
Wariness flickered in Tom’s eyes before his facial muscles formed a tight smile. “I’m fine.”
Although not wholly convinced, Booker let the matter drop. “So, what’s our plan of attack?”
Thankful his friend hadn’t pried any further, Tom attempted to exude a more affable countenance. “Well, I’ve been thinking. I’m pretty sure Tyrell Carson is the one recruiting dealers. He’s obviously working for a bigger fish, and probably gets a cut of the profits.”
Booker’s brow pulled into a thoughtful frown. “Go on.”
Encouraged, Tom continued, his features becoming more animated as he revealed his plan. “So, I did some digging, and I don’t know if you noticed, but all of Tyrell’s hangers-on are from the poor side of town. He’s picking the ones who need money to do his dirty work. He’s not the one peddling drugs, they are. He’s just the middle man, and he probably pays them with drugs, money or protection.”
A slow smile curled Booker’s lips. “You know, I think you might be right. But how do we infiltrate the gang?”
“Easy,” Tom grinned. “All we have to do is act like we need money. If we start palling around together at school, we can work the angle we’re bullying kids into giving us their cash. Tyrell will soon hear about it, and hopefully, he’ll try and offer us a deal we can’t refuse.”
“Is that legal?”
It was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, but Tom had enough experience to know the answer. “Sure. I mean, as long as we just scare them and don’t rough them up too much, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Somewhat embarrassed he hadn’t thought of the plan himself, Booker’s eyes shone with admiration. “You know, Fuller was right, you really are a great cop. Brilliant idea.”
At the mention of his captain’s name, Tom’s expression soured. “You spoke to Fuller about me?”
The clipped tone of Tom’s voice warned Booker to tread carefully. While he didn’t want to lie, he also didn’t want to hurt his partner’s feelings. It was a slippery slope, but despite his reservations, he decided honesty was the best policy.
“I did,” he confessed quietly. “But only because of what happened last night.”
Indignation tightened Tom’s jaw, and his eyes flashed with a growing fury. “You had no right talking about me behind my back. This isn’t Jerry Fuckin’ Springer, you nark, this is my life! No one asked you to interfere, I can take care of myself!”
“Can you?”
The softly spoken question had Tom faltering, and his anger stalled, leaving him speechless. He stared at Booker, his head tipped slightly to the side, his beautiful, soulful eyes conveying a range of emotions in only a matter of seconds. It was a human slideshow of sentiment; pain, panic, shame, disbelief, the multicolored lights of emotional despair flickered, faded, then returned once more in a seemingly never-ending cycle. It was difficult to watch, and Booker became increasingly concerned by the reaction he’d provoked. Each emotive flash in Tom’s eyes caused a physical pang in his heart, and he instantly regretted his hastily spoken words. Once again, his impetuous nature had gotten him into trouble, but this time, he’d hurt someone he was really starting to care about, sickening him to his stomach. It was becoming an unwelcome habit, and he wondered why he always seemed to cause his new friend unnecessary pain when all he really wanted to do was help him.
Not wanting to crowd Tom, the dark-haired officer remained where he stood, his eyes brimming with contrition. “Shit, Tommy,” he muttered, his hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. My big mouth is always getting me into trouble. Sorry.”
It was an uncomfortable moment. Both men stood silently, muscles tensed, their eyes carefully avoiding contact. But eventually, it was Tom who spoke. “They were just foolin’ around,” he mumbled in defense of his attackers. “It was no big deal.”
Booker bit back the response he wanted to say, and instead, he went with one less likely to aggravate the situation further. “Okay. I guess you’d know.”
When Tom didn’t reply, he attempted to alleviate some of the tension in the room. “So, are you ready for school, cool?” he asked, a cheeky grin tilting his lips.
Without lifting his gaze, Tom headed toward the door. “Let’s do it.”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” Booker muttered, and suppressing a sigh, he followed his partner out of the warehouse.

I am due to go on holidays on the 18th. I will endeavour to post one more chapter before I leave, but if I don't, I will start posting again the beginning of October.
In peace,
OpenPage x
- 6
- 7
- 8
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

Cries of a Shadow