Comments on this story can be sent to: TazzyJan@aol.com

Note: This story takes place right after The Trap. That's the episode where the boys are lured to an old barn and an enemy of Hutch's tries to burn it down with them in it.

Reflections

by

TJ

I. Reflections

Hutch sat in the quiet hospital room and watched his partner sleep. The quiet, even breaths were like a meditation mantra to him now. In. Out. In. Out. Each one filling him with an almost overwhelming sense of relief because each one was an outward sign that his partner was still among the living.

He could still remember the horrible gut-wrenching fear he had felt when Starsky had gone down, a bullet through his calf. How they had managed to get back inside the barn without taking any more hits, he still didn't know.

He had ignored his partner when Starsky had suggested Hutch make a run for it without him. He had refused to acknowledge that Starsky was even speaking. He would have put a bullet in both their heads before he let them burn to death, but he was not going to leave his partner behind. As if he would have anything left to live for without Starsky by his side.

That thought troubled Hutch, and he paused in his reflections. He knew he would die for his partner. That was understandable and easy to accept. The knowledge that he would die without his partner was a different matter. He tried to go back in his mind and pinpoint when he started to feel this way. Perhaps it was a gradual thing that had built up over time and nearly constant exposure. But as he thought back, Hutch realized he had always felt this way. Even in the Academy it would have devastated him to lose his friend.

Hutch tried to think if there was a time when anyone else meant as much to him as Starsky did. His parents? No. While he loved them dearly, he could see himself going on without them, painful though it might be. Vanessa? Hardly. Even when he'd been head over heels in love with her, her death would not have destroyed him as utterly as Starsky's would. Gillian? Obviously not, though she had come the closest.

So what was it about his partner that made it impossible for Hutch to live without him? Hutch tried to envision what his life would be like without the energetic, curly-haired man in it. He closed his eyes and let his mind conjure up a vision.

Darkness, swirling darkness, black and gray with streaks of blood red. No sunshine. No warmth. No friendship. Just darkness, stretching on and on as far as the eye could see.

Hutch gasped aloud, his eyes snapping open. Dear God when had that blue-eyed satyr become the center of his universe? And what the hell was he going to do about it? If Starsky were a woman, Hutch knew exactly what he'd do. But Starsky was no woman, and there was nothing to indicate he would be open to such an advance from Hutch.

Hutch closed his eyes again and let his mind drift. Even if Starsky were open to such an arrangement between them, did he, Hutch, find him sexually attractive? Hutch concentrated on his partner then, calling up the image of Starsky's naked form. They had seen each other nude hundreds of times in dozens of situations. He had even handled his partner's genitals before when he'd been too sick to take care of the basic functions of life for himself. There had been no arousal on Hutch's part then, only a sincere desire to offer what aid he could. Had that changed?

Hutch concentrated and erased the image of Starsky's naked form from his mind. In its place he put his naked partner again, but this time reclining on Hutch's own brass bed. He made the image purposely alluring. He pictured Starsky, right arm raised up and tucked under his head, left knee bent, spreading his legs wide in the most wanton invitation Hutch could imagine. The look on his partner's face, a cross between naive innocent and knowing seducer.

Hutch let his imagination, and his libido, have free reign as he continued to count off his partner's steady breaths. The slightest change in Starsky's breathing would bring him out of his trance immediately, but for now, he was free to dream.

He imagined Starsky's left hand coming down to cup his heavy genitals. His partner was not small, this Hutch already knew. He watched, like a patron in a theatre, as Starsky fondled his heavy sack then took his growing erection in hand.

As the dream Starsky stroked himself, Hutch stared, savoring the sight. Was he able to be sexually excited by his male partner? The answer was straining for release in Hutch's pants even now. Finding the answer he had come for, Hutch turned away from the vision in his bed.

He knew now that he could find Starsky sexually appealing. Now, what did that mean? Was he gay? No. Bi-sexual? Well, by the very definition of the word, he would have to say yes, though he knew that his sexual desire for another man would extend no further than his partner. Was he bothered by this? Not really, much to his surprise. It seemed...natural. He found it odd that he was finding something natural that the rest of the world would find fundamentally wrong. He found it odder still that he didn't much care.

That settled, he moved on again. He was approaching one of the more important questions. One he was fairly certain he would not have an answer for. But it was one that had to be asked. So, now that he knew he loved his partner, could not live without his partner, could easily find sexual desire for his partner, what the hell was he going to do about it?

The smart thing to do would be to ignore it. Bury it down deep inside of himself and never let his partner know. But that reeked of deception to Hutch. In all the years they had known each other, Hutch had never deceived his partner. He had never kept something of this magnitude from him. He did not think he could do so now.

So if he was not willing to hide his newfound feelings from his partner, that left him little choice but to tell him. Hutch felt a flicker of dread in the pit of his stomach and paused to let it pass. This was his reflective time. Fear had no place here. Breathing a bit deeper, Hutch thought about telling his partner again. The momentary flash of fear was absent this time so he continued.

There were so many questions. How? When? And, most importantly, why did he feel such a need to confess?

He decided to tackle the last one first, since it truly was the most important of the three. Why? Why tell Starsky at all? Why make himself that vulnerable? Why take the chance on ruining the only relationship that truly mattered to him?

Hutch let his mind float, eager to see all the reasons his psyche could come up for why he should or should not do this thing. He was surprised when a single thought intruded to the exclusion of all others. Why should he take the chance on telling his partner? Because Starsky deserved to know. If for no other reason, his partner deserved to know that he was loved and by whom.

That left how and when. When was easy. When Starsky was better. Though it would be more advantageous to tell Starsky when he was still too weak to get away from him. His partner would have no choice but to hear him out. There could be no angry walking away. But Hutch knew he wouldn't do that. It would be unfair to burden his convalescing partner with his feelings when he was less than up to the challenge. And Hutch would do nothing that might set Starsky's recovery back in the slightest.

So the when would be when Starsky was better, preferably home from the hospital and able to get around on his own. Hutch also refused to lay this burden at his partner's feet while the man was still dependent on him. Only when Starsky was standing firmly on his own two feet would Hutch take the chance on jerking his world out from under him.

That left the how. How was he going to tell his partner that he would like to be more than friends? How was he going to broach the subject of a sexual relationship with his very male and excessively macho partner? And how was he going to handle it if it blew up in his face?

Hutch thought for long minutes, running various scenarios over in his mind. Finally, he decided on Venice Place and a quiet dinner for two. That way, if Starsky wanted to be alone he could simply walk out. There would be no awkward scene of being asked to leave. Or worse yet, being bodily ejected, though he doubted if it would come to that.

A sound from the bed jerked Hutch from his musings with the force of a physical blow. In a matter of seconds he was at his partner's bedside staring intently into a pair of sleepy blue eyes. Hutch held his partner's gaze and lightly stroked the darkly stubbled cheek. He smiled when Starsky sighed contentedly and slipped back into sleep.

Only when he was sure Starsky was sleeping peacefully again, did Hutch return to his chair. Breathing deeply twice, he aligned his breathing with that of the sleeping man and let his mind wander where it would.

He let the dinner scenario play out in his mind, imagining what it would be like if Starsky said yes. Eyes closed, he pictured them touching, hands at first, then lips and tongues. Hutch could feel his body reacting to the pictures in his mind but he ignored it.

He watched, like a spectator, as in his mind he and Starsky made their way to his bed. Kissing and touching they were quickly nude and stretched out side by side. He fumbled here, unsure what to do next. What was it he wanted? Frowning, Hutch concentrated and tried to picture sliding himself inside his partner's willing body.

He couldn't do it. No matter how hard he tried, he could not picture David Starsky willingly allowing another man to penetrate him. Changing tactics, Hutch reversed their roles. All at once the picture was crystal clear. All too easily, he pictured himself on his hands and knees, eagerly thrusting back onto his lover's hardness.

Hutch gasped back to reality once again. His hand shot down to his groin and he squeezed his penis ruthlessly to keep from coming in his pants. He glanced at the bed to make sure he hadn't disturbed his partner. No, Starsky was still sound asleep, Hutch's harsh breathing having no discernable effect on the man.

"Well, I guess that answered that question," Hutch mused aloud, shaking his head ruefully. He knew he would spend long days analyzing this new discovery, but for now he let it go. At last knowing what he truly wanted, all he had to do now was convince Starsky. Though how he was going to convince a man who loved soft, shapely women that it would be in his best interest to bed his decidedly un-curvy partner was currently beyond him.

II. The Sleeper Wakes

Starsky spent two days in the hospital and another week at home before Hutch deemed him well enough for The Dinner. Starsky could tell something was going on. His partner had been nervous ever since he'd left the hospital. But every time he questioned Hutch about it, all the blond would tell him was that he would explain everything once Starsky was better.

Well, Starsky was now deemed officially "better" and Hutch had invited him over to Venice Place for dinner. And a long overdue talk.

Starsky could smell the steaks grilling when he walked in the door. He smiled when he thought of his partner going to all the trouble of making dinner for him and one of his favorites at that. He could hear Hutch puttering around in the kitchen and headed there to greet his partner. The sight of the table stopped him short.

Hutch had certainly pulled out all the stops. The table was set for two with crystal wineglasses where bottles of beer normally stood. In the center stood two long white candles in crystal holders. Starsky stood and simply stared at the set up. When he was finally able to kick start his brain, the first thing that ran through his mind was how romantic the setting was. If he didn't know better he'd think Hutch was trying to seduce him.

"Um, hi," Hutch said from the kitchen. He had turned around to find Starsky staring intently at the table. He felt his stomach twist in apprehension, but Starsky only shook his head and smiled, apparently willing to go along with whatever Hutch had planned.

"Food smells great," Starsky said. He had walked into the kitchen and was about to help himself to a beer when Hutch stopped him.

"I, uh, thought we'd have wine. If that's okay."

"Sure, Hutch," Starsky replied.

"There's a bottle chilling in the fridge," Hutch said, turning his attention back to the food. "Why don't you pour us a glass while I finish this."

Opening the refrigerator to do just that, Starsky was once more surprised by what he found. This certainly wasn't their normal wine. The bottle itself seemed almost elegant in design and Starsky wondered how much his partner had forked out for it. He cast another glance at his friend and wondered again what the man was up to. This had all the obvious indications of a seduction. But why?

As much as Starsky wanted to grill his partner, he held his tongue. Hutch was clearly nervous about something. The tight set of his shoulders and the slightly jerky movements told a great deal about Hutch's emotional state. Starsky wished he understood why, but he knew he would simply have to wait.

Hutch would tell him when he was ready. Pushing would only make him retreat.

Starsky handed a glass of wine to his partner then turned and walked out of the kitchen. He would give Hutch his space right now and see if he could put any of the pieces of this puzzle together. Glancing around the apartment, he noticed for the first time how tidy it was. Hutch was not known for his housekeeping skills, but the place looked spotless.

"You'd think he was expecting a date instead of his partner," Starsky mused quietly. "Just what the hell is up with you, Blondie?"

Starsky was forced out of his reverie by the announcement that dinner was ready. The banter between them was light as they enjoyed the meal Hutch had prepared. He had outdone himself this time. The steaks were just the way Starsky liked them and the asparagus was cooked to perfection. And if Starsky found the choice of side dishes a bit odd, he didn't comment on it, only on the fact that it was good.

Hutch was glad to see Starsky enjoying the meal. He had hopes that his partner was unaware of the aphrodisiac qualities of asparagus. Hell, he would have made oysters if he thought he could have gotten Starsky to eat them.

Once dinner was a fond memory, both men pushed their plates away and looked at each other across the candlelit table. Hutch let his eyes meet and hold those of his partner. He toyed with his wineglass for a moment, his firm resolve to tell Starsky slipping a bit when faced with the reality of it.

"What is it?" Starsky asked softly, knowing both that Hutch wanted to speak, yet was afraid to for some unfathomable reason.

"I need to tell you something," Hutch began. "And I'm not sure how you're going to react to it."

"So tell me," Starsky said. He kept his voice pitched low, in a tone he knew never failed to calm Hutch. "There's nothing you can't tell me. You oughta know that by now."

"I know," Hutch sighed. "But it's still not easy."

"Hutch, you know I love you. You don't have to be afraid to talk to me. You're my best friend. You can come to me with anything."

"I love you, too, Starsk," Hutch whispered across the table. "That's the problem."

"How's that a problem?" Starsky asked. He felt his stomach knot and had a sudden urge to get up and run out the front door. But the devil himself couldn't make him run out on his partner. Not when Hutch so obviously needed his support.

"Because I love you as more than just your best friend, buddy." Hutch held his breath as he waited for Starsky to react. This could very well be the end of everything he held dear in his life. He wasn't sure how he would make it if it were.

"Hutch...are you tellin' me you're in love with me?" Starsky tried desperately to keep the incredulity from his voice, but it was no use. He had not expected this. Never, in a million years, had he expected this.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Hutch watched as a myriad of emotions played across Starsky's face. Surprise, disbelief, fear...they all shone brightly in the blue eyes staring across at him.

"How long?" Starsky managed to ask around the lump in his throat.

"Huh?"

"How long've you felt this way?" He had to know. Had Hutch secretly wanted him all this time and been too afraid to tell him?

"For a long time, I suppose. I just didn't recognize it for what it was until lately," Hutch answered honestly.

"By lately, you mean when I got shot, right?" Starsky pressed. He needed all the facts before he even attempted to deal with this.

"Yeah. I realized it then. It was pretty startling," Hutch said. He wanted to give his partner all the explanation he could. For what Hutch was putting him through now, Starsky more than deserved it. "I was sitting in your room, listening to you breathe and I realized that I would die without you. It really threw me. I always knew I'd die for you, I just hadn't realized I'd die without you until then."

"Aw, Hutch, don't do that," Starsky said, touched by the heartfelt words. "Don't give me that kind of power over you. You don't know what I might do with it."

"It doesn't matter. You already have that power over me. I'm just acknowledging it."

"Will you tell me something else?" Starsky asked, letting the current matter drop for now.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know," Hutch said.

"Why are you tellin' me all this?" Starsky held his partner's eyes as he spoke and he saw Hutch flinch from the directness of the question.

"A couple of reasons really," Hutch said. "First off, I thought you deserved to know. Everybody deserves to know there's somebody out there that loves him. Secondly, because I do love you...and I'd like...like to have a re-relationship with you."

The telltale stutter gave away just how nervous Hutch truly was. But no matter how nervous Hutch was it was not even close to the panic Starsky suddenly felt. Hutch wanted a relationship with him. A sexual relationship. Hutch wanted to have sex with him. For the life of him, Starsky couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the alien thought.

Starsky's silence was unnerving. Hutch had expected any number of reactions from his partner from laughter to physical violence. This lack of reaction was frightening. It showed exactly how much Hutch had thrown the man off guard.

"Say somethin', would ya?" Hutch pleaded when he couldn't take the silence any longer.

"I don't know what to say," Starsky replied, unable to turn away from the plea in Hutch's voice. "You've really thrown me for a loop here. You want to have sex with me. I...I don't know how I'm supposed to react to that."

"C'mon, Starsk, surely this isn't the first time a guy's come on to you," Hutch said, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, but it's the first time that guy ain't picking his teeth up off the floor," Starsky grumbled.

"Well, I appreciate the restraint, buddy."

"I ain't never hit you, Hutch, and I ain't gonna start now. So you can quit worryin' about me comin' across the table at ya," Starsky replied. He didn't like the guarded look on Hutch's face now, as if he were waiting for Starsky to take a swing at him. Or worse.

"Wouldn't blame you if you did," Hutch said. It was clear that this had been a mistake. Whatever Starsky felt for him, it wasn't what Hutch had hoped. Time for damage control. Maybe, if he got down on his knees and groveled, he could salvage their friendship.

"What? I'm supposed to punch your lights out cos you love me? Jeez, Hutch, what kinda friend do you think I am?" The hurt tone in Starsky's words was easy to hear. He'd never hurt Hutch. He'd cut out his own heart before he'd hurt his partner.

"I-I'm sorry, Starsk," Hutch said, confused. "I guess...I just...I had hoped...that...well, that..."

"I think I know what you hoped, Hutch," Starsky said, tired of listening to his best friend trip over his words. He watched Hutch blush blood red and felt an answering heat rise in his own face as unwanted images flashed through his mind.

"Look, buddy," Starsky continued. "I need some time, okay. This is a lot to just dump on a guy, you know."

"I know," Hutch agreed. "Take all the time you need, Starsk. Or we can pretend this whole evening never happened. I swear I'll never bring it up again. Just...just tell me we're still friends, okay?"

"Still friends?" Starsky echoed. The question nearly floored him. How in the hell could Hutch ask that? One look in the pained blue eyes of his partner told Starsk that Hutch was serious. "You're my best friend in the whole world, Hutch. That ain't changed. I just need a little time to get my mind around all this. It's still me and thee, partner. I'm sorry if it can't be the me and thee you'd like it to be, but I'll always be your friend."

"That's all I want, Starsk. I swear it. I had to tell you. I couldn't in all good conscience not tell you. It would've been too much like a lie between us. But your friendship's what's really important." Hutch fell silent, not wanting to say too much and make a mess of things again. At least Starsky was still his friend. Even if his dreams were dying all around him, he still had that and that was worth more to him than anything.

"So as long as you got my heart, you can live without my body, huh?" Starsky remarked with a smile.

"Something like that."

Hutch's answering smile eased both men and gave Starsky the resolve he needed to push back from the table and stand. He needed to think and he couldn't do that here with Hutch's presence looming over him. He saw a look of panic pass over his partner's face and hurried to reassure him.

"I need to think, Hutch, and I can't do that here," Starsky said, pulling on his jacket. "So I'm gonna take the Torino for a little ride. When I get back, we can finish talking about this."

"There's nothing left to talk about, Starsky," Hutch said, a quiet note of defeat in his voice. "I want it. You don't. End of discussion."

"No, it ain't end of discussion," Starsky countered. "And who said I didn't want it, huh? I said I needed a little time to think about it. That's all I said. You gotta know I love ya, Hutch. That ain't no secret, even if I don't say it like I should. Now I'm gonna go take my ride and when I get back we'll talk."

Hutch could only watch as Starsky headed out the door. When he heard the Torino pull away, he forced himself up from the table. He knew he wouldn't be able to relax until Starsky came back and proved that he wasn't gone for good.

Starsky got behind the wheel of the Torino and drove. He rolled down the window and sighed as the warm breeze ruffled through his hair. Forcing his mind to the problem at hand, Starsky thought about his partner's revelation.

Hutch was in love with him. Hutch wanted a sexual relationship with him. He wasn't sure exactly what that would entail but he figured it was a safe bet to assume Hutch wanted to fuck him. That was the part he was having a hard time getting his head around. Could he really let his partner bend him over and fuck him?

Starsky sighed as he realized that the answer was yes, he probably could. But he didn't think he'd enjoy it. Hutch asked for so little in life and was willing to settle for so much less. How could he, David Starsky, refuse him this? Was it so much to ask? Would it be that great a sacrifice on his part to let his partner love him?

He tried to picture "doing things" with Hutch. He tried to picture kissing the big blond and was surprised at how easily the image formed in his mind. And it wasn't an unpleasant picture. Not at all. He tried to picture them going a bit further. The images grew fuzzy then, becoming vague and indistinct. Okay, so kissing Hutch wasn't really a problem. Maybe, if they took it slow, they could work up to some of those vague things.

Starsky hit the brakes and pulled the Torino onto the side of the road. Was he seriously considering entering into a sexual relationship with his male partner? Yes, he was. He loved Hutch, no doubt about that. He wasn't sure if he was in love with Hutch, but then again, he wasn't sure he wasn't either. He did know that he felt the same way Hutch did about a lot of things. But unlike Hutch, he'd known for quite some time that he wouldn't be able to make it in this world without his blond by his side.

Decision made, Starsky turned the Torino around and headed back to Venice Place. If Hutch was willing to take it slow, he was ready to see where this road would take them. All he had to do was convince his partner that it wasn't some sort of mercy fuck.

Hutch was surprised when he heard the Torino pull up outside an hour later. He had expected his partner to be gone much longer, searching for a way to let him down easily. Steeling himself for the let down he knew was coming, Hutch busied himself in the kitchen as he waited for Starsky to make his way upstairs.

"Hey," Starsky said, walking inside and hanging up his jacket for the second time that night.

"You're back awful fast," Hutch said as nonchalantly as he could.

"Yeah, well, it didn't take me as long to figure things out as I thought it would," Starsky replied, sitting down on the couch.

"So what conclusions did you come to?" Hutch asked, fear once again knotting his stomach.

"That I love you," Starsky said. "Have for a long time. That I couldn't live without you in my life either. Course I already knew all that."

"So..." Hutch prompted when Starsky fell silent.

"So, if you're willing to take it slow, I'm willing to give it a try," Starsky said. "I mean, I thought about kissin' ya and that was okay. Hell that sounded pretty good to me, actually. After that though, it got a little fuzzy."

"Starsk, you don't have to do this," Hutch said. This was not what he wanted. He had never intended to push his straight partner into a homosexual relationship. He walked into the living room and sat down beside his partner.

"Now don't go thinkin' I'm making some big sacrifice for ya, Blondie," Starsky said. "I ain't. Don't get me wrong here. I ain't ever been with a man before and the thought of...of lettin' you t-take me makes me a little nervous, but..."

"Starsk, in all the things I imagined, that's the one thing I could never picture," Hutch said, interrupting his friend. "I could never see you as willing to submit like that."

"I would. For you," Starsky told him. "It'd be hard, but I'd do it if it was what you wanted."

"You really would, wouldn't you?" Hutch said, stunned by the honest love he saw reflected in his partner's eyes.

"There ain't nothing in this world I wouldn't do for you, Hutch. Nothing. You think I'd think twice about sharing my body with you? But if that ain't what you had in mind, just what do you want?"

Hutch flushed dark red and ducked his head. Sometimes Starsky's directness could be downright humiliating. He tried to say something but the words wouldn't come. How was he supposed to explain his innermost fantasies without sounding like a slut?

"Hey," Starsky said, calling Hutch's attention back to him. "You don't have to be embarrassed. This is me. Talk to me, Blintz."

"I, um, kind of pictured it the other way around," Hutch said, his face coloring even more.

"The other-- You mean--" Starsky stammered, his tongue tripping over itself this time.

"Yes," Hutch said a bit too loudly. He turned his gaze away, unable to maintain the eye contact. This was so much harder than he'd imagined it to be. What must his partner think of him now?

Starsky watched as Hutch turned away and took the opportunity to slide closer. He would never have thought that Hutch would want to submit like that to any man, even him. But it seemed he was learning all sorts of new things about his partner today.

Reaching out, Starsky grasped Hutch's chin and gently turned his face back around. Smiling, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his partner's lips. Hutch didn't respond and Starsky drew back, giving him the time and space he needed.

"Are you sure about this, Starsk?" Hutch asked. "Really, really sure?"

"I wouldn't play games with you, Hutch," Starsky said seriously. "I would never hurt you like that. I love you too much."

"I love you, too."

"I know. Now why don't we stop talking and see about doing some of that stuff you been thinkin' about."

Leaning forward, Starsky pressed his lips to his partner's again. This time Hutch responded, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss. Starsky moaned when he felt Hutch's tongue demand entry into his mouth. Strong and firm, Hutch's tongue dueled with his own until Starsky was moaning almost constantly and fiercely aroused.

"God, babe," Starsky gasped when they finally broke apart. "Let's take this to the bedroom. I wanna stretch out and hold ya."

III. Fumbling Toward Ecstasy

Somehow they made it to Hutch's bed without tripping over anything, kissing and groping all the way. They stopped by the bedside and took turns removing each other's shirts. Shoes and socks soon followed, leaving the two men in just their jeans. Neither made any attempt to remove that last barrier, both content to leave things as they were.

With both men used to being the aggressor in their relationships there was a moment of awkwardness before both settled on their sides facing each other. Reaching out, Hutch ran his hand through Starsky's dark curls and sighed.

"What?" Starsky asked.

"I love you so much, David," Hutch said. "And I want you just as badly right now."

"Y-you got me, partner," Starsky whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm here and I'm all yours. Tell me what you want."

"You," Hutch said simply.

"Uh-uh," Starsky said, shaking his head slightly. "Tell me."

Hutch felt his face warming again, but did as his partner asked. "Touch me. I want to feel your hands on me."

"Just my hands, babe?" Starsky asked.

As he spoke, Starsky reached out to touch the man beside him. Slowly, he ran his hand up Hutch's arm to his shoulder. The shiver that single touch elicited sent a wave of desire through him. Encouraged by the reaction, Starsky scooted closer and let his hand glide down Hutch's smooth chest.

Starsky moaned himself when his hand brushed over Hutch's nipple and the man arched into the caress. He couldn't believe it. His beautiful partner was writhing on the bed from his caress. The desire to love this man burned in Starsky and he was surprised by the intensity of it. He had thought he was doing this for Hutch. He had never been more wrong.

"Hutch, babe, touchin' you like this-- I ain't never wanted nobody so bad just from touchin' 'em."

Unable to wait any longer, Hutch bent his head and sealed his mouth to Starsky's again. He cried out when he felt Starsky's fingers close over his nipple and gently roll it between them. He felt Starsky reach up with his other hand and tangle it in his hair, pulling his head down even harder. If this didn't stop soon, Hutch was going to come in his pants like a teenager.

Hutch tried to move back and break the kiss but Starsky wouldn't let him. Finally he had to bring his own hands up and push against his partner's chest to break them apart.

"If you keep that up I'm gonna come," Hutch panted, his body still thrumming with desire.

"And that's a bad thing?" Starsky asked as he continued to roll and tweak the hard nipple.

"Don't wanna waste it," Hutch gasped, still squirming under Starsky's hand.

"Tell me your fantasy, Hutch," Starsky purred. He released the swollen nub at last and Hutch breathed a sigh of relief. Starsky gave him a moment to collect himself then moved his hand down to the little nub's as yet untouched mate.

The angle was difficult with them lying on their sides so Starsky pushed his partner over until he was on his back. He smiled at the obvious signs of arousal Hutch wore. The knowledge that they were from his touch alone made his own cock ache.

"Tell me your fantasy, Hutch," Starsky whispered again as he began to squeeze Hutch's other nipple.

"Starsk," Hutch groaned, trying desperately to hold onto his control.

"Tell me, lover," Starsky demanded. "Tell me what I do to you."

"Y-y-you fuck me," Hutch ground out. "You-- I'm on my hands a-and knees. You-you're behind me, holding onto your c-cock--"

"Do I fuck you with it?" Starsky asked when Hutch fell silent.

"No," Hutch said, then gasped when Starsky suddenly replaced his tormenting hand with his wicked mouth. All he could do for long moments was writhe as Starsky suckled his flesh.

Pulling his mouth away, Starsky stared into the desire-darkened eyes of his lover. "Tell me, Hutch."

"Y-you don't do an-anything," Hutch stammered as Starsky's talented mouth retuned to his chest. "I do it all. I push back until-- until you're inside me. Then I fuck myself on your cock. You-- you just kneel there and let me fuck myself."

"Damn, Hutch. You have got to be the sexiest bastard I know," Starsky said as Hutch's words sent his desire up another notch. He had wanted things to move slowly. Neither of them had any experience at this and the last thing he wanted was to mess things up now. He had to be sure Hutch well and truly wanted this and wasn't letting his dick do the talking for him. "Is that really what you want, lover?"

"Yes," Hutch rasped, knowing instinctively that Starsky needed the reassurance. Hadn't the man asked him just a few short moments ago to take things slowly? "It's what I want, Starsk. I swear it is, but I-if you need to slow down..."

One look at Hutch's face and the battle was lost. He never had been able to refuse his blond. Why should now be any different. "As long as you're sure, babe. I don't want you to have any regrets."

"Love me, Starsk. Please."

Starsky surged upward at the ragged plea and took Hutch's mouth again. His hands busied themselves with the blond's pants, deftly unfastening the snap and easing the straining zipper down. Grabbing pants and underwear both, Starsky tugged until Hutch lifted his hips then pulled the restrictive garments down his lovers legs as far as he could without breaking the kiss.

Hutch cried out when he felt Starsky's hand wrap around his erection.

Starsky squeezed it, firm but gentle, and Hutch bucked under the touch. Regretfully, Starsky broke the kiss and pulled away, knowing they both needed a breather or this wasn't going to last very long at all.

Hutch lay back and panted while Starsky wiggled out of his own jeans then pulled Hutch's the rest of the way off. He thought about helping, but his mind was on overload and he couldn't quite seem to figure out how to move yet.

Starsky grinned at his helpless partner. Hutch was wasted and he hadn't even come yet. He wondered just how plundered his blond would look once they finally managed to do the deed.

"You got any oil or anything, babe?" Starsky asked, running his hand up and down his lover's thigh.

"Oil?" The look of confusion on Hutch's face told Starsky that he was still not functioning on all cylinders.

"Yeah, you know...something to use as lube. I'm not gonna take you dry, babe. I'd hurt ya."

"Oh fuck," Hutch said as the reality of what Starsky was saying sank in.

"That was the plan," Starsky laughed. "Unless you changed your mind."

"Changed my mind?" Hutch repeated. "Not in this lifetime, buddy. I think there's some massage oil in the bathroom."

"Okay," Starsky said, leaning down and taking Hutch's mouth with his own again. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," Hutch said. He watched Starsky get up from the bed and walk across the apartment. His nakedness didn't seem to bother him a bit and for that, Hutch was glad. Hopefully, he'd get to see his partner walking around naked a lot more often.

Hutch was smiling at him when Starsky came back to the bed and Starsky felt his heart melt again. Oh, how he loved this man. With everything he was, he loved this man. Now all he had to do was show him how much.

"Get on your hands and knees, Hutch," Starsky said when he crawled back onto the bed, oil in hand.

Hutch spared a moment to stare hotly at his lover then scrambled to comply. He felt Starsky position his hips and wondered how many times his little stud of a partner had done this with a woman. Hutch sincerely hoped it was more than he had.

All thought fled when Hutch felt an oiled finger at the entrance to his body. No one, other than his doctor, had ever touched him there. That it was Starsky that was touching him this way sent a shiver of desire through him.

"You okay?" Starsky asked.

"Yeah. Do it."

No more words were spoken as Starsky pierced the tight ring with his finger. He only used the very tip of his finger at first, wanting to give Hutch time to adjust. Starsky knew for a fact Hutch had never done this before. He was not going to rush things and end up hurting this man.

Only when Hutch gave a little wiggle did Starsky sink his finger in the rest of the way. Both men moaned as the tight heat of Hutch's body surrounded Starsky's blunt finger. Starsky slowly sawed the finger in and out of the tight rectum, carefully stretching the tender tissue.

Starsky felt his lover tense when he pulled his finger out and tried to replace it with two. He patiently added more oil then pushed the fingers inside. It was even tighter than before and Hutch grunted at the intrusion, but he made no move to pull away and Starsky began to carefully stretch him once more.

"Hutch, babe, you ready?" Starsky asked, unable to wait any longer. That tight heat around his fingers was driving him slowly insane. And with Starsky that was always a short drive.

"Yeah," Hutch replied, hoping that he was. He had no way to know if he was ready or not, but he trusted his partner.

Hutch felt Starsky's weight shift then the blunt head of his partner's penis was pressing against him. Hutch knew the angle was wrong the minute Starsky tried to push and he lunged forward quickly.

"Hutch?"

"Just a second, buddy," Hutch said as he moved back into position.

"Did I do something wrong?" Starsky asked, alarmed by Hutch's sudden retreat.

"No, just a bad angle," Hutch said. "Why don't I try backing onto you...like I, uh, told you about?"

"That's a great idea. That way if it hurts, you can stop."

Hutch took a deep breath and waited for Starsky to line them up again. When he felt Starsky's cock at his hole, he wiggled a bit to get him into a better position then slowly pushed back. Gritting his teeth, Hutch tried to ignore the pain as the head of Starsky's cock finally breached his body.

"Hutch, stop," Starsky said through clenched teeth.

"What is it?" Hutch ground out.

"This ain't workin', babe. My dick feels like it's in a vice. And if I'm hurtin' this bad I know you're hurtin' worse." Reluctantly Starsky pulled back until his penis slid free. Hutch let out an audible sigh and collapsed forward, shame coloring his face.

"That was a disaster," Hutch mumbled as the mortification set in.

"No it wasn't," Starsky shot back, moving to sit beside his lover. "Not a raving success, mind you, but not a disaster either. I think we went too fast. We obviously ain't ready for that yet. "

"So what do you suggest, oh wise one?" Hutch said, turning on his side to face his partner. He felt better knowing Starsky didn't view this dismal outing as a disaster. Maybe they could salvage something after all.

"There's lots of ways to please a man, Blintz."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Starsky smiled a second before he pushed Hutch onto his back and took the startled man's cock into his mouth. Ever mindful of his teeth and the fact that he had caused Hutch quite enough pain for one day, he carefully bobbed his head up and down doing his best to bring his lover pleasure. By the way Hutch was yelling it sounded like he was successful.

"Fuck. Shit! Starsk, I'm gonna come," Hutch cried out, wrapping his hands in the dark curls and holding on for dear life as he ejaculated into his partner's mouth.

Starsky tried to hold on to his partner's bucking hips with one hand while the other frantically stroked his own penis. The slight pain when Hutch pulled his hair only added to his arousal. The first unexpected spurt of semen nearly choked him, then he was swallowing as fast as he could and coming all over Hutch's side.

When their orgasms subsided at last, Starsky pulled his mouth off Hutch's spent penis and moved to lie beside him once more. He felt Hutch's hand rubbing at the come on his side and smiled sheepishly. He had time for a single gasp before Hutch was kissing him hard and deep, determined to taste his essence in his lover's mouth.

For long, lazy moments they lay together, kissing and touching, basking in the afterglow of loving each other. It wouldn't always be easy and they had a lot to learn before they tried that particular act again, but they had each other. And in the long run that was all that mattered.

END