Chrysalis

By

Beth & Mystic Whim

Rating: R

Genre: Slash

Categories: Post SR, First Time, Hutch angst, Starsky angst

Description: As Starsky and Hutch begin to realize their desire for one another, Hutch runs.

Chrysalis:

the pupa of a butterfly, encased in a cocoon

March, 1980

"Man, that pizza hit the spot," Starsky sighed, taking a slug of his beer.  His partner, seated beside him, nodded in agreement.  They both slouched back, propping their feet on the coffee table, happy and stated.

"Do you think Simonetti figured out it was you?" Hutch asked, amusement twinkling in his eyes again.

Starsky chuckled.  "I'm sure he has his suspicions…"  The chuckle quickly turned into a full laugh.

Hutch shook his head, joining him in laughter.  "I still can't believe you pulled that off.  Hey, where did you get all that underwear from?"

"I bought it.  I was shopping after Valentines Day and I saw a clearance sale on all these goofy bikini briefs and thongs with hearts and flamingos and smiley faces and stuff, and I had a sudden…inspiration!"

"Inspiration!" the blonde sputtered.  "Is that what you call it?" 

"When you told me about that Mardi Gras party that Simonetti was throwing, I figured that would work great.  I could put all the underwear in everybody's in-box at work with the note.  Geez, buyin' all them skivvies cost me a small fortune!"  His eyes widened at the confession.

Hutch laughed harder.  "But Starsk, it was worth every penny!"  They both laughed harder.  "And I love the note you put in there."  He quoted, "Property of Officer Simonetti.  I apologize for rummaging through his underwear drawer at the party the other night.  I'm ashamed for my actions.  Please return to I.A.  Signed, Anonymous.  That was brilliant, Starsk.  Just brilliant."

"I put the furry thong in his supervisor's in-box, and the one with the hearts I put in Dryden's."  The both doubled up laughing again, tears joining their merriment.  "I sent a jock strap to Dobey!  Extra small!"  Hutch roared with joy.

"The best part was seeing the look on his face when everyone started to deposit the underwear on his desk, one by one!  Man, I wish I had a camera for that."

Starsky reached out and grasped Hutch's forearm.  "Clemens from the lab brought his camera!  He got a picture of it!"  Hutch clapped his hands in delight, laughing too hard to reply verbally.  "His face was beet red, and he was fuming, this huge pile of hideous underwear in front of him, and Clemens recorded it for posterity!"

"Perfect, Starsky.  Just perfect," Hutch managed to praise, while trying to catch his breath. 

Starsky folded his hands on his full belly and gave Hutch his innocent look, but there was pure mischief in those violet eyes.  "I had to do something, Hutch.  He was such a jerk to you when I was recovering from the shooting, and nobody calls my partner 'a liar, delinquent or just plain stupid'."  Then he added with a cocky grin, "Only I get to do that."

Hutch draped his arm around Starsky's shoulders and offered a gentle squeeze.  "Thanks, Starsk."  He pulled the warm shoulders closer, and leaned forward to place an affectionate kiss on Starsky's lips.

Starsky's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his lips parted instinctively. He had wanted to share this with Hutch for some time now. As his tongue touched upon Hutch’s lips, the latter parted his, changing the kiss from one of affection to one of desire. They shared a soft and loving kiss, warm and expressive.

Hutch reached up to cup Starsky's face with his free hand, gently caressing the cheek of his partner. After a long moment, the kiss ended, and Hutch began to pull back, only to freeze mere inches from Starsky's face.

Starsky could see the shock register in Hutch's eyes, and realized that his friend had acted impulsively, and sincerely.

Hutch slowly released Starsky from his grasp and sat back. He wanted to open his mouth to speak, but was at a loss for what to say. Fear and embarrassment flickered in his bright blue eyes as he turned to his friend.

Gently, Starsky reached out to Hutch. He placed his fingers on the lips of his friend, offering an understanding smile, stopping him from speaking. Then his fingertips reached up to gently brush against the blonde bristles of Hutch's mustache. He felt Hutch relax, but noted his cheeks glowed with a vibrant blush. After a moment, Starsky withdrew his fingers, then leaned closer to Hutch. He paused, looking to his friend, giving him the chance to react.

The blush faded from Hutch's cheeks.  He watched Starsky with wonder, aware that his friend was not upset by his gesture, and in fact returned it enthusiastically. 

When Starsky felt certain that Hutch understood his intentions and was not withdrawing, he leaned further into Hutch, his hand cupping the blonde head and pulling him into another kiss. The kiss was warm and wet and wonderful. The feel of the mustache was unique, yet not unpleasant. Starsky's fingers threaded through Hutch's hair, sometimes grasping, sometimes petting the soft strands.

Hutch wrapped his arms about his partner holding him tightly against himself in the embrace. He released the tight hold he had on Starsky, leisurely running his hands over his partner's back.

The slow kiss ended and they parted. The two men faced each other, each set of surprised eyes studying the face of the other. Hutch reached out and tenderly stroked his thumb across Starsky's lower lip.

Keeping an intent gaze on his friend, Starsky turned into the gentle hand and he lightly kissed the thumb, then opened his lips to caress the pad of the thumb with his tongue, feeling and tasting the unique texture.

Starsky's tongue stroking his thumb that way sent an intense reaction straight to Hutch's groin, and he could feel his jeans becoming tight against his growing erection. Alarm sent the blonde to his feet. Breathlessly he turned away. He found himself in the kitchen, uncertain of how he got there or what he should do.

Hutch rebuked himself for his impulsive behavior. He hadn't intended to kiss Starsky, it just happened. Hutch hadn't even realized what he had done until after the fact. He had felt so comfortable, so content, and exceedingly affectionate, and he had never felt a need to suppress or restrain his own affections with anybody before, especially not with Starsky. Few people tapped into this side of him the way Starsky had. But his affections had never carried this far. And nothing could have readied him for Starsky's reaction. His partner had not pulled away from the kiss but rather threw himself into it, jumping into an intimacy that he was completely unprepared for. It electrified him.

His back was to Starsky as the man appeared in the same room.

"Hutch?" Starsky approached cautiously, not wanting to upset his jittery friend any more than he already was. "Hutch, are you okay?"

Turning slowly, Hutch calmly regarded the man he had just kissed. "No," he replied quietly, a slight smile haunting his lips.

A lopsided grin brightened Starsky's worried features. "Yeah, me either," he confessed. "But I'm glad it happened."

"You're glad?" Disbelief flashed in his expression. "Starsk, do you realize that when you kissed me just now that I…I was…turned on by you?"

The grin broadened. "Good, then it wasn't just me."

"Starsky!" Hutch was exasperated. And relieved. Relieved?

Starsky stepped closer to him, very close. Hutch could feel his fear fleeing, replaced by something else, something warmer, something compelling. "Starsky," his voice was soft and and hoarse. "What’s happening to me?"

"What's happening to us?" Starsky gently corrected. "I feel it too." Unexpectedly, he threw his arm about Hutch's neck, pulling him into another kiss, this time more passionate than the last.

Breathing heavily, Starsky's face and body showed the same intense desire that he himself felt. Hutch let his eyes scan carefully over his friend's body, drinking in every inch of him, seeing him differently than before.

Starsky was leaning back against the counter, his eyes darkened with passion. He was studying Hutch's reactions, glad for the physical support of the cabinets behind him.

Feeling Hutch's eyes rake over him, Starsky was pleased. The look in his friend's eyes was not one of fear, but of want, and tenderness. Finally, Hutch's fingers touched his lips, silencing him before he had a chance to speak, much as he had done earlier. Hutch's hands then cupped his face, his lips softly kissing him.

"I love you," the gentle blonde whispered.

"You old softie," Starsky whispered with a smile. "I love you too."

"Starsky, I don't understand what's happening here. I can't think…" Hutch wanted to flee, afraid of what this was leading to, but afraid of damaging their friendship by walking out. He waffled, pulled to Starsky by his desires, pulled to the door by his fears.

"It's okay, Hutch." Starsky could see the confusion in his friend's expression. "We're okay."

Hutch smiled and walked out of the kitchen. Starsky was not surprised to see him grab his jacket as he headed for the door. As he was almost over the threshold, Hutch turned back to Starsky. "I need ...I need to think. I'll be back tomorrow; we'll talk." Starsky acknowledged him with a nod, and he was gone.

Watching his partner leave, Starsky realized that this moment was a culmination of feelings he'd been having for the past year.

Ever since the assassination attempt on his life almost a year ago, Starsky had come to realize just how he felt about his best friend. As his body came back to life, so did his mind…and his heart. He now realized that his love had been asleep since Terry's death, lying in wait for that special someone to come along and wake it. He thought Rosey had done so, but only realized since the shooting that it was Hutch who his heart was waiting for. Hutch who had awakened it - when? Didn't matter, the shooting was the catalyst - the explosion if you will - that woke his heart up to the love before him that had always been there, but never acknowledged.

It took him most of the last year to realize it though. Each soothing stroke of a fevered forehead, each deep massage of tired muscles; each gentle touch by those large, strong hands that bathed him, comforted him, steadied him during his recovery brought the love he felt for Hutch closer to the surface.

And now…he sighed, realizing what he wanted that next step of love to be.

He loved Hutch, with all his being. It was that simple; and at the same time that complicated. Their jobs would not accept their relationship; gay cops were slowly being acknowledged on the force, but not as partners. And what was accepted by police policy was not necessarily accepted by the men that were supposed to provide them back up on the dangerous streets. Anticipating the reaction of their family members would be another issue entirely.

Dark curls bounced as Starsky shook those questions out of his mind. They were for later; first they had to deal with their own feelings.

And how did he know that Hutch really felt the same way? Was this some experimentation thing for his best friend? Did Hutch respond out of compassion for him? Was Hutch just horny? After all, it had been awhile for both of them.

One thing Starsky knew for sure…he wanted Hutch. The tall blonde man was his life, his desire, his love, and his best friend all rolled into one being. He chuckled, luckily for me it's all packaged very nicely.

He'd always been aware of Hutch's attractiveness. The golden, lean body; the muscular legs, his strong, yet comforting hands; the flashing sky blue eyes; bright cornsilk hair. But seeing Hutch now through the eyes of love, everything seemed more enhanced. Just the image of himself running his fingertips down that smooth skin sent shivers down Starsky's arm and into his groin. Beauty is really in the eye of the beholder. Wonder if that's how Hutch sees me. He thought as he absently rubbed his left palm against the outline of the scars underneath his t-shirt, criss-crossing his torso like train tracks, while his right hand soothed the growing pressure in his groin.

Tomorrow. Hutch said he'd come back tomorrow and they'd talk. Then he'd know how Hutch really felt. It was going to be a long, sleepless night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hutch drove away from Starsky's apartment in a confused fog. He didn't want to return to his own apartment, preferring to seek solace and understanding in the feel and sounds of nature. His aimless drive brought him to the beach.

Hutch's own actions had surprised him. He had kissed his best friend without even thinking, just on impulse. What came over me? And Starsky had not only accepted the kiss, but heightened it, taking it from his gesture of affection into something much more potent.

Kicking off his shoes, he stumbled barefoot through the coarse powder until he felt the icy cold damp sand close to the water's edge. He breathed in the salty scent of the ocean. The biting wind of this crisp night helped to chill his enflamed desires.

When did it become desire? It wasn't this evening, if he were to be honest with himself. This was not the first time Starsky's touch had stirred him sexually. During his partner's long recovery from Gunther's shooting there were times when his constant physical presence had had its affects on him.

At the time he had dismissed it to the extreme emotions he felt over Starsky's near death, and to the imitate closeness they shared while he regained his health. Hutch had insisted on providing most of Starsky's nursing care, trusting no one to be able to care for him as he could. And while caring for his friend, he hadn't the time or energy to pursue the company of women. Surely all the factors combined had been an explanation for his impassioned feelings.

He wrinkled his brow in contemplation. But then again, those feelings hadn't ended when Starsky's convalescence ended.

The fresh ocean air revived, and he walked slowly along the water's edge. The temperature of the water didn't seem quite so cold now that he was getting used to it. Glancing up to the sky, the clear night glittered with an abundance of stars, encouraging him as his thoughts progressed. He resignedly admitted to himself that there were times since Starsky had returned to work that he felt a physical attraction to the man. He shook his head, certain that these feelings were entwined with the emotions stirred by the assassination attempt.

Seeing his friend's bullet ridden body lying on the ground had profoundly changed his feelings. He had always cared about Starsky. Loved him like a brother, he had professed. But he knew, standing beside his hospital bed, those words never completely expressed what he felt in his heart. He loved Starsky. Not as a brother, not as a friend; the labels were inadequate. There was no way to define when it had begun, or how deeply it touched them. It had grown over time and experiences, encompassing every aspect of their time together; their friendship, their partnership, their struggles, and their achievements. The closeness of death had brought the love to light, brought the intensity of it to their awareness, finally knowing what they had to lose, when it was nearly too late.

He walked away from the edge of the water and sank down to the sand. His eyes settled on the point where the starry sky met the blue waters. Contemplating his love for his friend, and the physical attraction that accompanied it, he finally admitted to himself what he knew all along.

I'm in love with you David Starsky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the two had off, and feeling a need for some normalcy, Hutch woke his best friend with a phone call at 10:00 a.m. and suggested a picnic and some one-on-one at Triangle Park.

He picked his partner up half an hour later, with promises to stop at Wilson’s deli so each could grab a sandwich of their choosing. A bag of organic potato chips (though Starsky didn’t know they were organic), a couple of bottles of root beer, topped by two apples for Hutch, and a large piece of chocolate cake for Starsky, were included in the basket that Hutch had packed earlier for their lunch. The cake was not something the health-conscious detective kept in the refrigerator, but he picked it up that morning after his run, thinking especially of his sweet-toothed partner.

Hutch guessed he was hoping that once sated with food and chocolate, Starsky would be more open to talk about what happened last night.

Waiting in the LTD, Hutch honked his horn to signal to his best-friend that he had arrived. He didn’t want to enter Starsky’s apartment just yet, afraid that they’d greet each other with more intimacy than usual behind the privacy of Starsky’s closed door, or they’d begin to discuss what happened last night, and never get to the park. And right now he needed to find a medium to his feelings before having the inevitable discussion with Starsky.

Starsky greeted him shyly as he got into the car. “Hey? How’re you this morning?”

“Good, Starsk. I’m really good.” He turned away to watch the road, pulling into traffic toward the park.

Starsky leaned back into the lumpy vinyl seat and relaxed, thankful that Hutch didn’t seem to have regrets or be fretting about their declaration.

The drive over to Triangle Park was comfortable and the banter was easy. A feeling of normalcy permeated the air between the two. After relaxing and people watching for a bit once they nourished themselves, Starsky got up, took his blue t-shirt off and stretched his arms high above his head.

“Come on Blintz, let’s work off some of those calories we just tacked on.”

The sight of that dusky, muscular chest stretching and pulling had Hutch out of breath before they had even walked onto the basketball court. He kept his own t-shirt on for self-preservation, like armor.

At first, playing close together was slightly awkward, but once Starsky made the first basket and began his usual bragging, Hutch began to feel more comfortable and competitive. Soon they were working together, yet against each other, as usual. Hands touching, back and butt pats, hips connecting…

Starsky couldn’t help but notice how the sun shown down on Hutch’s tan, making him appear golden.

The little dribbles of sweat running through Starsky’s chest hair tightened Hutch’s groin, making him thankful that he wore loose-fitting sweatpants.

After an hour of basketball, sweating, and friendly competition, the two took a breather and sat down on the side of the court.

Silence reigned for several minutes, before Starsky spoke. “Hutch?”

“Yeah Starsk?”

“I don’t feel like playing anymore basketball. You?”

Hutch looked deeply into the brightened dark blue eyes. Reflected there was desire, love, and questions. He knew what Starsky wanted. He wanted the promised talk.

“Okay Starsk, let’s just gather our things and head back to your place.”

“Hey, why don’t we stop and get a 12 pack first?”

“I don’t really think I should be drinking and driving Starsk, and I have to drive home.”

“So you only have two, or…,” he hesitated before continuing, “you could always spend the night.”

There was no response from the seat next to him as Hutch continued to look forward, driving through traffic.

He put his hand over the back of the seat and reached over to massage the long neck under his fingers. “Hutch? Are you gonna say something?” Starsky was worried about his partner’s quietness during the ride home.

“No, Starsk. Just thinking. I’d rather wait and do this at your place, okay?”

“Sure.” He removed his hand and let it drop down onto Hutch’s right shoulder, just letting it lie there.

The rest of the drive back to Starsky’s passed in silence, both men thinking how they would approach what they were feeling to the other.

Once home, Starsky dropped his jacked and holster on his bed, tossed his keys on the kitchen table, opened a couple of beers, and put the rest in the fridge.

Hutch was still standing by the couch wrapped in his jacket, unsure where he’d feel most comfortable, when Starsky sat down on it and patted the cushion next to him.

“Sit down and have a beer, will ya Hutch? I ain’t gonna bite, you know.”

That seemed to break the tension, and Hutch sat down, but didn’t remove his jacket. Using it as armor the same way he used his t-shirt earlier.

“You said ‘tomorrow’ we’d talk Hutch. We’ll it’s tomorrow and I wanna talk about this. We need to talk about it.”

“You’re right. I just…I didn’t know how to broach the subject.”

“Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

Hutch took a deep breath and looked into the wide blue eyes before him. How come I never noticed how beautiful they are before?

“I – I love you Starsky. I’m in love with you. I guess I have been for awhile.”

“How come you never told me?”

“I just realized it last night.”

“When you kissed me?”

“No. After that; after I left.”

“Then why’d you kiss me?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno. A way of saying ‘thank you’ I guess.” He lowered his voice and turned away, “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You mean it doesn’t now?” Starsky’s voice dropped to a whisper, a plea.

Hutch snapped his head back up, and saw hurt in those same eyes he’d just seen love in. “No, that’s not what I meant.” He never meant to hurt his partner.

Both men drank more of their beer, wondering how to get the subject back on track.

“Starsky? Why’d you kiss me back?”

“Because I’m in love with you too, dummy.”

Heart soaring, a wide smile appeared on Hutch’s face, he repeated Starsky’s earlier question, “How come you never told me?”

Starsky took another gulp of beer before answering. Tell him the truth David. “I’ve known I was in love with you for a while Hutch. But I guess I was worried how you’d see me if I told you. How I’d see myself if I admitted it out loud.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

Lowering his head Starsky confessed how since his shooting, he’d slowly come to realize how his love for Hutch had changed and how his heart had expanded with that love. “You opened my heart back up to love again Hutch,” he finished.

Startled at his friend’s declaration and depth of feelings, Hutch put his fingers under Starsky’s chin to raise the man’s face. Clear blue eyes gazed deeply into midnight ones. Slowly Hutch lowered his head to meet the slightly open and luscious lips that were made for kissing.

Backing away Hutch said, “I was wrong, you know.”

Confusion swept over the darker face.

“You are a good kisser,” Hutch explained.

Confusion changed to remembrance – accompanied by a grin – then to desire, as Starsky ran his left hand down Hutch’s hair and grabbed his neck, pulling the blonde to him for another, deeper kiss.

For several minutes they continued to explore each other’s mouths. Tongues twisting and soothing the hollow chamber of each other’s mouths. Eventually their lips became swollen and each pulled away at the same time.

All of a sudden the room seemed on fire to Hutch. He had to slow this down. “Starsky?” He asked as he lightly tickled the swollen lips beside him with his fingertips. “Where do you see this going?”

“Wherever you want babe.”

“I mean tonight, for starters.”

“Wherever you want.” His curly haired imp replied again, eyes reflecting the honesty of that statement along with desire, and a little fear.

“Let’s start by taking this jacket off, huh?” Starsky grinned, making Hutch relax.

Hutch stood up, removed the jacket and holster and set them on the kitchen chair. He grabbed another beer from the fridge for the both of them, one slipping from his nervous fingers onto the linoleum floor. Picking it up, he carried the cans to the living room.

Downing the last of the beer in his hand, Starsky took the offered can and popped the tab as Hutch sat down next to him.

Forgetting he had jostled his own can, Hutch popped the tab and was immediately sprayed with sticky suds.

Starsky giggled, which turned into laughter as looked up to the glare his partner was throwing at him.

“Might as well take the shirt off Hutch. I can wash it with mine. I’m sure I’ve got another of yours around here somewhere.”

Hutch pushed himself off the couch, removing the damp shirt, and went into the bathroom where he knew Starsky kept his laundry basket. He stayed in there to run a washcloth over his chest, noting how sensitive his nipples were as the cool cloth brushed against them.

“Hutch?” He heard his name called from the other room. “You comin’ back out?”

Tossing the cloth into the sink, Hutch glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His face and neck were blushed with want; his eyes bright, their pupils large and dark; his lips were moist and swollen; his golden hair tousled. He was the picture of someone who had been thoroughly kissed.

Suddenly Starsky was at the doorway, hands braced against the frame. He walked over to his partner and put his arms around the firm waist and pulled himself closer to the inviting warmth, resting his cheek against Hutch’s smooth back. “It was getting kinda lonely out there without you.”

Hutch felt a gentle kiss placed on his upper shoulder. He turned in the embrace and quickly placed a kiss on Starsky’s forehead. “Just washing up a bit.”

Starsky’s voice was husky as he beheld the smooth chest in front of him. “I can do that.” And he began licking and sucking on the golden skin around the sternum, drawing a gasp from his partner.

Hutch placed his hands on Starsky’s waist sliding them upwards under the t-shirt, feeling muscles tremble beneath his fingertips as he soothed Starsky’s back.

He drew them back down to grasp a handful of jeans and pull his partner closer. Starsky’s head came up and Hutch grabbed his lips with his own, roughly pushing in his tongue as a growl erupted from deep inside. He lifted his lips with trailing kisses to Starsky’s ear. “Did I ever tell you how hot your ass is?” He said with a grin, as he planted a light kiss along the rim.

A chuckle burst out from Starsky as he appealed, “Spend the night with me. I want to wake up beside you tomorrow.”

Hutch gathered him closer, if that was possible, and wrapped his long arms around the shorter man. “Okay,” he whispered.

Holding them in place for a few minutes, then pushing Starsky away to look directly at him, Hutch asked, “But Starsk? I, uh, I don’t want to…” He blushed now of embarrassment. “I mean, I want to take this slow. Get used to the idea, okay?”

Starsky reached up and held Hutch’s cheek in his palm. “Sure babe. Me too.” Starsky himself wouldn’t have minded going a little further in exploring their new love. His passionate nature cried out for it, but he didn’t want to rush Hutch and scare him off. If that’s what Hutch wants, I don’t care. As long as he’s here.

Agreeing to cool things down a bit, Starsky stepped back from Hutch’s embrace and walked into his bedroom to grab a shirt for him.

Meanwhile, Hutch went into the kitchen to scrounge something up for dinner. “Hey Gordo? You got something edible in your freezer? And see if you can find a pair of my pants so we don’t have to stop at my place on the way to work tomorrow.”

Sorting through the crusty freezer, Hutch came up with some frozen fried chicken and fries. As he leaned down to put the pan of chicken into the oven, Starsky came into the kitchen with a fresh shirt to cover that golden chest. Oh my Lord, this is gonna be a long night, he said to himself when he got a glimpse of the sweatpants molding tightly against the broad backside of his love.

Gulping back his desire, Starsky rubbed his hand over his face to gain control and gathered plates, napkins, and condiments for dinner.

“Want another beer?” He asked Hutch, setting one out at the table for himself.

“Keep mine in the fridge for now. I want it cold with dinner.”

After dinner the two decided to play a few games of checkers in the living room. Hutch sat on the floor next to the coffee table, while Starsky stayed on the couch. After a few more beers, both were feeling nicely relaxed. For once Hutch was winning, so Starsky decided to do something about that.

“Hey Hutch?” He asked without looking up from the board.

“Hmm?”

“What do whales eat for dinner?”

“Huh? Is this another of your stupid ways of trying to distract me?”

“It’s a joke Hutch. Come on, answer it.”

Hutch thought for a moment, then sighed, “I don’t know Starsk. What do whales eat for dinner?”

“Fish and chips!” Starsky grinned broadly at his partner’s groan and then jumped three of his partner’s men. “King me!”

“I’ll king you!” And Hutch began throwing checkers up at his partner, pinging him in the face and chest, with one landing in the dark curls.

Starsky launched off the couch and onto his partner on the floor to wrestle him into submission. But the moment their fingers touched, a spark was ignited. Starsky straddled Hutch and shoved his hands beneath the rayon shirt and began stroking Hutch’s chest.

The prone man just stared into the face above him, right arm bent at the elbow, hand falling limply toward the floor. He couldn’t think, all he could do was feel.

“You’re so beautiful Hutch,” Starsky whispered in awe. “I want to love you so much, but I can wait. I can’t wait to sleep with you though. Can we do that? Can we go to bed now and just hold each other?” He didn’t look down into the dazed face of his best friend, but lost himself to the sensations under his fingers, hands, and palms.

Without waiting for an answer, Starsky lifted himself off his partner and went into the bathroom to clean up and change. By the time both were ready for bed, neither had shirts on, but Hutch kept his sweatpants on and Starsky wore a pair thin pajama pants.

Starsky already had his favorite side of the bed, so Hutch climbed in on the other side and the two lay side by side, facing each other waiting for sleep to carry them away. Starsky laid a soft kiss on Hutch’s forehead, as his partner seemed skittish. Wanting to respond, Hutch returned the favor to Starsky’s cheek, kissing the mole by his mouth.

No words were spoken in the quiet darkness as they faded off to slumber. Shadows shifted along the wall like guardians, watching over the two new lovers as they slept.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hi Huggy”, Starsky called to his friend.

Huggy was washing glasses behind the bar. He looked up to see the smiling, curly haired man walk in alone, and looked to the door expecting to see the blonde following behind.

“Just me today, Hug.”

“Kinda like a sky without a moon, to see you walk in here alone,” Huggy joked.

Starsky slid onto a stool. “Got some time you can spare for an old buddy, my friend?

Huggy cocked his head slightly, aware that something must be amiss for Starsky to come in alone looking for someone to talk to. “Yeah sure, Starsky. Let me get Todd out here to cover for me and you can have me for as long as you need me.”

Starsky nodded and his friend disappeared into the backroom. He spotted a booth in the back that afforded more privacy than the others, and headed for it. It wasn’t a long wait before Huggy emerged with a pitcher of beer and two glasses and sat across the booth from him.

Pouring the beer and serving his friend, Huggy remained silent, waiting for the other to explain the purpose of his visit.

Starsky looked away, acting almost embarrassed, before confessing, “I don’t know where to start, Hug.”

“Usually helps to start at the beginning, amigo.”

With a small grin the man replied, “I don’t know where the beginning is.” Taking a swallow of his beer, he studied his friend a moment and dived in. “Somethin’ has happened between Hutch and me.”

“Is that somethin’ good, or somethin’ bad?”

“Somethin’ good,” Starsky answered. In his thoughts he could see Hutch pull him close for that first kiss, and he smiled to himself at the memory. “Yeah, somethin’ real good. But I’m kinda surprised by it, and I’m not sure yet how to deal with it.”

“You ever gonna quit talkin’ around it and tell me what IT is?” Starsky looked embarrassed again, and Huggy chuckled. “How long you two been makin’ like husband and wife? Or should I say like husband and husband?” Starsky’s eyes widened at the question. “Look Starsky, you been grinnin’ like a man in love since you walked in here. It don’t take Carnac the Magnificent to figure this one out.”

Starsky let out a deep breath. He was relived that Huggy seemed neither surprised nor judgmental about his revelation. Of course, he didn’t really expect him to be. “Last week Hutch kissed me, Huggy. It changed somethin’ between us. It started somethin’. We’ve been kinda getting’ used to the idea since then. We’re takin’ things slow.”

Huggy smiled, a huge genuine smile. He reached over and clasped Starsky on the shoulder with a friendly squeeze. “I’m happy for you, Starsky. For both of you.”

“This doesn’t bother you, Hug?” He wanted to know if Huggy had any reservations, wanted to be aware of them upfront.

Huggy gave a snort. “Bother me? Why should it bother me? Besides, you two have been like a couple of love birds for years now. I’m just surprised it took you so long to figure it out.”

Laughing, Starsky sat back and shook his head. “Yeah, can’t see the forest through the trees. I think I had a hard time believing I could feel this way about another guy. Ya know, it wasn’t socially acceptable where I grew up.”

“It’s not socially acceptable where I grew up either, my friend.” He shook his head sadly. “It won’t be easy for you two. Maybe even dangerous. Your fellow boys in blue aren’t too accepting of gays. You or Hutch might find yourself depending on back up that never shows up.”

“I know Hug. I’ve thought about that. I know we’ll have to be secretive about our relationship.” He frowned, the frustration evident in his face. “I hate that I have to hide how I feel about him! It’s not in my nature.”

“But it IS in your nature to protect your partner.” He gave Starsky a knowing look.

“True, Hug, very true.” The smile returned. “Leave it to you to shine the right light on it.”

“Have you told your families?” Huggy inquired.

“Not yet,” Starsky admitted. “That’ll be tough. I think my mom will take it bad at first, but she’ll probably come around. I’m not so sure about Hutch’s folks. They were pretty strict. I think he’s worried about how they’ll react.”

“How about you, Starsky? How are you handlin’ this? You said you weren’t sure how to deal with it.”

Starsky paused before answering. “I’m not sure, Hug. Most of the time I handle it just fine. I’ve been feelin’ this way for a long time now, and I’m glad it’s out in the open and I’m glad that Hutch loves me too. When it’s just me and him, everything is great. It’s all the outside stuff I’m not so sure about.”

“You mean your families?”

“My family, his family, work, hell just people.” He sighed. “Seems like everybody’s got a label for us, and most of ‘em ain’t nice. Everyone has these expectations of us! And the way we love each other, well, that doesn’t fit in. We could lose our jobs if word gets out at the station. We could fight that, but they’d never let us stay partners. And Hutch’s family, they might turn their backs on him. He don’t deserve that, Hug. I don’t want him hurt like that.”

“You havin’ regrets, my man?”

“No!” Starsky shook his head vehemently. “No regrets. I’m just feelin’ unprepared, that’s all. I don’t know how to deal with this stuff. All the rules have changed on me.” Then he laughed. “Even sex. I used to feel pretty confident that I knew what I was doin’ there, that I knew how to please my partner. Now I’ve got me a real partner, the only partner that matters, and I have no idea what I’m doin’!”

Huggy laughed too. “You’ll find your way, Starsky. You just need some time. You and Blondie have love, and not a lot of people have that. That’ll get you through the bad stuff. And you got friends. You don’t have to hide nothin’ here. I won’t let nobody give you cause for grief.” He stood and held up a finger. “Hang here just a sec. I got somethin’ that will help you.” He disappeared into the back room again.

A short time later Huggy rejoined his friend. There was a piece of paper in his hand, and he slid it across the table to Starsky. It was an advertisement for a gay book store, taken from the yellow pages. “This place is near my pad. A friend of mine works there. I know the neighborhood is decent, the place ain’t sleazy, and no one will give you any hassles going in there. They have books and stuff that will help you feel like you know what you’re doin’ again.” He winked at the curly haired man.

Tucking the paper into his shirt pocket, Starsky grinned at Huggy. “Thanks.” He stood to take his leave, offering his hand to his lanky friend.

Huggy clasped his hand firmly, then pulled him into an embrace. He clapped him on the back a couple times, then released him with a smile. “You tell that white knight of yours the next time you two come in here together, drinks are on me. We’ll celebrate.”

“I’ll do that, Hug. Thanks, my friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several days later…

Starsky was sitting at his desk, struggling through one of his reports for Dobey. Frustrated, he grabbed the correction film and tried to type over his misspelling. “Stupid machine,” he grumbled under his breath as he tossed the well used office supply in the trash. He rose and grabbed his coffee mug. “Ya want some?” he asked his partner.

In reply, Hutch just raised his mug without looking. Starsky grabbed it and headed for the coffee pot, only to find it empty. Disgusted, he announced, “I’m goin’ to the cafeteria for some coffee,” and headed for the door.

“Starsky!” Dobey bellowed from his office doorway. The detective cringed, obviously anticipating something bad from the tone of his boss’s voice. “Stick around, son. I have an announcement to make.”

Slinking back to his desk, Starsky nudged Hutch and the two of them looked to their boss for the news.

Dobey was quick. “Okay people, listen up. Because of their dedication and hard work on the Harvey murders, Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson are receiving commendations. The ceremony will be Friday at 4:00pm. Your presence is expected.” He looked affectionately at his favorite team. “Congratulations, boys. Nice job.”

“Ya hear that Partner?” Starsky grinned at Hutch. “We’re getting a commendation!” He reached over and clasped Hutch’s hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He stood up to attempt his trip to the cafeteria again.

Hutch stood up as well, and swatted his partner on the rear before he turned away.

“What are you getting that accommodation for, Starsky?” sneered Logan. “Is there some sort of affirmative action law that says they have to give pansies just as many awards as real men?”

A chill ran up Hutch’s spine. He pretended not to hear the man, and continued to look for a folder in the file cabinet.

Starsky stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face Logan. “What’s that Logan? Didn’t hear ya. Did you say somethin’ about our commendation? You aren’t jealous now are ya Logan?”

“Hell no, I ain’t jealous of a coupla queers that can’t keep from hangin’ on each other and smackin’ each other’s asses,” the man countered, standing up in a threatening stance.

“Shut up, Logan,” Fredericks called. “That’s just the way Starsky and Hutch are. They’ve always been that way. Don’t mean nothin’. You’ve just got a stick up your butt because that Harvey case was taken away from you and Pritchert.”

“I don’t!” Logan denied. “I just don’t like watchin’ a coupla fairies getting all touchy feely in front o’ me. Makes me wanna hurl.”

Starsky’s eyebrows raised, and his expression turned to a false innocence. “Oh yeah, Logan? Then you oughtta love this.” He threw his arm around Hutch’s neck and pulled him into a full kiss on the mouth.

The other detectives in the room howled in laughter.

Starsky turned back to Logan without pulling his arm from around Hutch’s neck and gave his biggest smile.

In disbelief, Hutch raised the back of his hand to his mouth wiped it, shouting “Starsky!”

The squadroom hooted some more, hilarious over Logan’s shock and Hutch’s outrage.

Logan turned red with anger and stormed off, much to Starsky’s delight. Starsky threw a wink at his partner and sauntered out of the room, barely missing the file folder Hutch hurled at him.

Hutch sank into his desk and pretended to be absorbed in a file. The kiss Starsky had planted on his lips still burned, as did the blush in his cheeks. In short time, the laughter had died down and the squadroom had returned to business as usual. Hutch, however, could not easily recover from his surprise.

He was furious with his partner. Starsky should have just ignored the jabs, and walked away the bigger man. In addition, to flaunt their private life was a complete disregard of Hutch’s own need for privacy. Not only that, but it was extremely dangerous! And he was embarrassed as hell at being made the butt of the joke.

Starsky was pleased with himself. He had silenced Logan, and won the congratulatory pats of the other detectives for his imaginative response, as well as being able to kiss his lover in front of everyone. Hutch had also received humored pats, as well as the sympathy of the other officers for having to put up with such a goofball partner.

Starsky had indeed avoided disaster with his little bit of fun, but it was out of line, and far too risky.

The end of the shift finally came. Hutch stood to pull on his jacket and his partner sauntered over. “Hey, Hutch, wanna grab a beer?” Starsky cheerfully invited.

To the delight of the other detectives, Hutch replied, “You think you can ply me with a few beers and have your way with me? I don’t think so Starsk. I’m not that kind of guy.” He turned on his heel and left the squadroom as their coworkers again burst into applause and laughter.

Starsky’s cheeks flamed red this time, as he joined in laughing at his partner’s wit. But Starsky had seen the glint in Hutch’s eye, and he was well aware that there was anger brewing behind those baby blues.

Hutch went straight home from work, still fuming over Starsky’s prank. He couldn’t believe he would kiss him in front of their fellow officers. What was he thinking? Didn’t he realize that it could have backfired, and cost them their jobs, as well as their reputations?

Logan’s slurs still haunted him. Pansies. Queers. Fairies. Makes me wanna hurl. All their years of hard work – would it be reduced to this? His hard earned title completely forgotten and replaced with a label, an insult. All because of who they chose to love? And his job is at risk, his life at risk, because he chose to give his heart to another man?

The kiss had wounded him. He felt used. Their first kiss had come about after many years of trust and love. To have his kiss now used for a joke really hurt his feelings. It was thrown out to wolves and made the subject of ridicule. Why couldn’t this had been kept private, something beautiful just between them?

There was a soft knock at the door, and Hutch knew who it was. He dropped his head, debating whether to open the door, then surrendered, realizing that Starsky would just use his key. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the door and yanked it open.

Starsky stood in the doorway, leaning against the wall. His head had been bowed, but he raised it to gaze at his partner with huge puppy dog eyes. The clothes he had been wearing at work were replaced by all black. Black skin-tight jeans. Black snug t-shirt. Black leather hip-length jacket. All that black only served to make his deep blue eyes even more vibrant than usual, and his lashes seemed longer in contrast. Cupped in his hands was a small plant, with a big red bow tied around it.

Hutch swallowed hard, his anger completely forgotten. He had never seen Starsky look so incredibly sexy as he did at this moment.

Starsky’s voice was soft, yet tinged with lust. “Hey, handsome. I’m here to apologize. Will you let me in?” His eyes were intense, certain that he would not be refused.

Momentarily speechless, Hutch stepped back and allowed his friend to walk in. An intoxicating cologne teased his nose. Following behind Starsky, his eyes fell to the hem of his coat and the well defined thighs below that. His partner didn’t saunter in, full of cockiness. He glided in like a cat, sure and graceful, and every muscle was emphasized by those clothes. When Starsky stopped and turned to confront him, Hutch considered himself fortunate that he didn’t stumble right into him. He was so busy watching his partner that he wasn’t watching where he was going.

Starsky held out the plant to him. His voice was still low and sensual. “I know you’re angry at me. I was going to bring you roses, but I thought it would be better to bring you the entire bush. That way, it would keep giving you flowers, and always remind you how much I love you.”

Hutch took the plant; a miniature rose bush, and smiled at the sentiment. “Nobody has ever given me roses before,” he mused. “A little cliché, isn’t it? Bringing your date roses? What, no chocolates? No poetry?”

Starsky’s eyes flashed with mischief. His was voice confidently warm and seductive as he spoke. “And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.”