"Crush" By Zen'Aku-Lati

Warning: Slash.

Disclaimer: If you don't know by now who owns Power Rangers, you aught to be taken outside and shot…Just kidding. I love you.

Author's note: This takes place around "A White Light". This is from Tommy's point of view. Please don't kill me when you find I took some liberty with how events actually took place. Enjoy and feedback is welcome.

Thanks: Thank you everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter. Much appreciated and I hope this chapter will get the same warm welcome.

Part II

Insecure. Before the Power, I had worn it long and flowing…

"So you're leaving, huh?" I asked, twirling a twig between my fingers.

It hid my face. It was the first thing you saw before you even saw me…

"Yup," he said looking out in space.

But then I was told that there was something I was needed for. Hand-picked for my skill…

"Leaving for Geneva," I stated to the side of his head.

I did what I was told and I was good at it. I destroyed…

"Uh-huh," was his simple reply.

But when I was brought over, I was told once again that I was needed…

"All the way in Europe."

And here were these people who so readily forgave. How do you measure up?

And just like that, the insecurity came back. A familiar weight on my head, flowing over my shoulders, slapping my face whenever the wind blew…

"Yes, Tommy!"

But just when I began to feel I belonged, I was made powerless. Useless…and now this…

"Why? Because Zordon made me leader, you're gonna run clear across the planet?" I wasn't concerned about anyone overhearing. No one was home.

"Shut up, Tommy!"

"I figured," I said, then paused. "Well, what if I told you I didn't want to be leader?"

"That was Zordon's decision. He doesn't make mistakes," he said, though I knew he doubted that.

"So it's off to Geneva, then." Jason sat silent. "Well, fuck Zordon and his stupid decision! It's no real reason for you to go!"

Jason still sat silent.

"You know what, Jason? Fuck you," I declared, standing up from my front stoop and heading to the side entrance of my basement.

I had it set up like a gym, but I hardly used it.

I didn't bother closing the door behind me, I just went straight for the punching bag and started venting my frustrations on it.

I heard when he dropped his duffle bag by the door. I heard when he closed the door and locked it. And I could feel his intent glare at the back of my neck.

I finally turned to him as he made his way toward me, looking at me with those piercing dark eyes.

As he placed a hand behind my head and freed my hair of its ponytail, he assured me, "I will be back."

He then crushed his lips against mine, devouring my mouth.

My heart raced as he pushed me into a wall, continuing his assault on my lips.

Jesus Christ…

My hands seemed to have a mind of their own, and they wanted that blasted T-Shirt off. The patches of warm, firm skin under my palms were not enough.

I pushed him off and ripped off that obstructing piece of cotton, tossing it to the floor. I followed it up with mine as he began undoing his jeans.

It wasn't long before he pressed himself back onto me. Uh, that skin…

I grabbed his hips and pulled him that much closer to me. I could feel his growing excitement. I could see the need in those eyes and in the way he bore his teeth.

In a heartbeat, I was flipped around. He roughly undid my jeans and slipped everything off my hips. I could feel his need in waves…it was a miracle he took the time to moisten a few fingers to prep me.

My eyes rolled back in my head and my breathing became labored as he delved into me. It still hurt, but I'll get used to it.

His sweat-dampened chest was slick against my back…

He began picking up speed and strength, and grabbed a fistful of my hair.

I drew my nails across his partially clothed thigh.

Oh. My. God…I felt like I was going to explode…

We both did…

He groaned in my ear. It pulsed through my very marrow.

He relaxed his grip on my hair and slid his hands down to my hips.

I turned under his touch and looked into his eyes, permitting my hands to roam over his sweat-slicked, muscular torso. I then kissed his slightly parted lips, moaning in his mouth.

I relished the feel of them against mine. How they tasted at the tip of my tongue. How they felt between my teeth…

But something told me to let go; I needed to stop.

Stop looking into those eyes. Stop kissing those lips. Stop feeling that skin.

I needed to stop. He needed to go.

"I will be back," he affirmed. I pushed him away.

"I think it's time for you to go," I said.

After a pause, he conceded, "Yeah, maybe you're right."

We didn't look at each other as we straightened ourselves out.

He picked his duffle bag up and was out the door when I found my hair band on the floor.

Then I left the basement, too.

It wasn't until we were outside that we finally looked at each other. It felt like an eternity before he gathered his bearings, turned his back and walked away, tossing his bag over his shoulder.

I just stood there, watching him go, but eventually I broke myself out of it and turned to go myself, roughly putting my hair back in a pony tail.

If Jason was anything, he was a man of his word. He will be back.

Until then, I'll hold down the fort. Until then…