--Shakespeare, Sonnet 81

*~*~*~*~*~*

Hutch awoke in the darkness, at first unsure of his surroundings. Then, as awareness settled over him, he realized where he was and why. Slowly, rising from his coffin, he opened the door to his domain and walked out into the night.

A mist rolled in and covered the graveyard as Hutch strolled towards the gates and freedom. Pulling his brown suede jacket closer around him, he tried to ward off the cold permeating through his body, but couldn't. The chill was set deep into his bones. Shadows twisted and moved, forming strange shapes and the wind seemed to whisper in Hutch's ears urging him further down the road. He didn't know if the whispers were premonitions or not -- a warning to turn back to his hellish home, or to move on. So, he ignored the murmurings and walked on into the night.

* * *

Lost in his own world, Hutch stalked down the dimly lit streets, looking for his next meal. Ever since his death a few weeks before, his life was now filled with an endless hunger for blood. It took all his willpower to reign in his newly acquired instincts, which compelled him to feed.

His existence was without doubt the loneliest period of time in Hutch's life. Each day became harder to bear than the last. Only the thought of Starsky, and his partner's love, kept Hutch from ending it all. In life, Starsky had been his reason for living, for getting up and doing the job day after day. And now, in death, his dark-haired friend was still his reason for going on. The vision of his friend's face was the only thing that pulled him back from the madness of craving blood and possibly killing for it. Starsky was still his touchstone, his humanity, and Hutch knew the minute he lost that, he was doomed. 

But last night had made him realize he couldn't depend on Starsky for blood anymore. It was too dangerous. He needed to find a fresh source -- and soon.

Turning quickly, he sensed a presence in the park a block ahead. He moved towards his prey. Scents, he had discovered, were extremely important to a vampire. Using his new-found sense of smell and his super-enhanced eyesight, he spied a drunk passed out on a bench up ahead. It was now or never.

Kneeling down, Hutch grabbed the man's arm and raised it to his mouth. He felt his fangs extend and he lowered his mouth, preparing to feed when he felt a presence behind him. Pulling back from his intended victim, Hutch was able to shield his face from identification as a light was shined and a voice shouted, “Hey, you there! What are you doing? Police! Let me see your hands!”

So, Hutch did the only thing he could. He ran.

* * *

A short time, later he wound up at Starsky's apartment. The hunger was now burning even more fiercely, urging him up the stairs to Starsky's door. The opportunity in the park had been lost and he needed to feed now.

The barrier that surrounded other human dwelling wasn't here at Starsky's. Hutch could enter at will, having been previously invited in by his partner. However, tonight the door was locked. Once Hutch had a spare key, but that was the other Ken Hutchinson -- the man, the partner, the friend, and not the vampire. Standing on one side of the wooden barrier, Hutch could smell Starsky inside the apartment. He'd know his friend's scent anywhere: musky with the lingering hints of Old Spice and traces of sandalwood. Only now, with all his senses enhanced, Hutch could smell, hear, and practically taste Starsky even though the thick wood of Starsky's front door separated them.

Listening carefully, he heard the soft sounds of Starsky's snores in the bedroom. Hutch pressed his face against the rough grain of the wood and shivered, not from the cold, but from the longing coursing through his body. The yearning screamed at him to feed on his partner once again, to drink from Starsky's lifeblood and taste the ecstasy that he knew awaited there.

The lock broke easily under his vampiric strength. Moving into the apartment, Hutch reached his goal quickly. Standing next to the bed, he observed Starsky lying partially beneath the covers. The cotton sheets wrapped around Starsky's body, slightly exposing one leg and a length of smooth back. Hutch could also see a glimpse of a pale, rounded buttock just under the edge of the bed linen.

Starsky was naked.

And with his heightened vision he could see every glorious inch despite the darkness of the night. The strong muscles in Starsky's arms and legs were proof positive that his partner had recovered from the near fatal shooting from Gunther's hit men. 

From the moment they'd met and become friends, Hutch had noticed how incredibly beautiful his partner was, but had pushed those feelings away, not wanting Starsky to realize his attraction. Now, with Starsky's nude body so close, Hutch knew why all those women had wanted Starsky. The man was temptation itself and right now, all his senses on overdrive, Hutch was powerless to resist.

* * *

Starsky didn't know what woke him.

One minute he was dreaming about sun baking naked on a hot, sandy beach, a shapely blonde on one side of him and a cold beer on the other. The next minute, he was groggily trying to orientate himself to his surroundings, pushing his sleep fogged mind aside and opening his eyes to the darkness of his bedroom.

A shadow moved and he was instantly awake.

Automatically, Starsky reached for his weapon on the night stand, but a familiar voice stopped his hand in mid-air.

"It's just me, Starsky."

Hutch.

Waiting for his eyes to adjust to his dimly lit environment, Starsky could faintly see that his partner was standing on the other side of the bed.

Starsky turned on the lamp next to his bed, and he saw Hutch flinch as the light hit his eyes.

"Sorry, Hutch. I know the light bothers you now, but I couldn't tell where you were."

The change, they both knew that's what Starsky was referring to, but the unspoken subject hung heavily in the room, like the full moon outside dangling in the night sky.

Their last meeting had made them all too aware of Hutch's condition. Starsky didn't think he'd see his friend for a long time after that encounter, knowing his partner's guilt complex all too well. He'd figured Hutch would stay away for at least three days brooding over the episode.

The episode. The incident. The question that had changed the course of their lives. As if Hutch dying and then becoming a vampire hadn't already added enough stress into their lives, Hutch's near daily feedings on Starsky had opened up a whole other can of worms. Then, last night, Starsky had broached the until then forbidden topic and simply asked, "Will you make me a vampire too?"

His long-time friend had fled, refusing to even discuss the issue, but not before Starsky had seen the overwhelming happiness in Hutch's face the moment he'd asked the question, quickly replaced by fear and shame.

Starsky knew he'd terrified Hutch with his proposition, but after weeks of being with Hutch, allowing his partner to feed off him since he had first found out Hutch had been turned into a vampire, he knew he didn't want for them to ever be apart.

Long denied feelings and desires had been revealed in their nightly encounters, making Starsky well aware of just how seductive his partner was. Death couldn't take away Hutch's appeal and the passion that had been brimming beneath the surface of their relationship all these years was now exposed, waiting for another chance to explode.

Starsky didn't intend to let the opportunity pass him by. He knew now what he wanted and that was Hutch. The sensuality of Hutch's feeding on him had awakened long suppressed emotions that had been stripped bare in the nights of Hutch feeding on him. And last night had been the most intense yet. He'd climaxed so hard he'd nearly passed out.

It was a feeling he wanted to reproduce over and over again.

Looking closely at his friend, Starsky noticed that he looked very pale, even for a vampire.

"Hutch, sit down. You don't look so good, pal."

Hutch didn't respond. He looked almost dazed, as if he was in a trance.

Concerned, Starsky started to get out of bed in order to help his friend, but before he could rise, Hutch moved further back into the shadows of the room, whimpering out a stark plea, "Stay away from me. I can't control-"

Suddenly, Starsky knew why Hutch didn't come any closer. Why his partner was so pale.

It was the hunger. It was back and Hutch was hanging on a thread to restrain himself from asking Starsky once again to allow him to feed.

Starsky's heart broke in that instant, all his pain and despair of the last couple of weeks came flooding back: the disbelief when Dobey told him Hutch was dead, the sadness of the funeral, and the burial. Then finally, the overwhelming grief that had clouded his every waking moment until Hutch showed up on his doorstep alive -- well, not alive, but here.

He didn't care how his partner survived, just that he had. Even allowing Hutch to feed on him to exist wasn't a hardship. Hell, it was so pleasurable that if Hutch needed to do it every day for the rest of his life, Starsky wouldn't object. But now Starsky wanted more. He wanted more than just to be a blood donor for his friend.

Nightly, he could feel Hutch's control slipping away, each time Hutch took more and more blood, leaving Starsky drained to the point of exhaustion. Starsky had used up all his vacation time from the department and he knew that if they continued this relationship that he could never go into work the day after Hutch fed. He was just too tired afterwards. Something had to give. Blood from animals helped Hutch's hunger, so that he didn't starve, which they'd figured out through trial and error; but it was Starsky's rich, warm blood that made Hutch feel human again. He loved the way it felt when Hutch drank from him. It had become addicting for both men.

It was only last night that Starsky had voiced his question to Hutch, knowing that they had to change the status of their relationship. Hutch either made Starsky a vampire and they left Bay City to start a new life together or the near nightly feedings had to stop if Starsky intended to stay a cop. He couldn't do both.

It was time Hutch made his choice.

"I told you last night, Hutch, you don't have to worry 'bout that no more. I want you to lose control. I want to be with you. Make me like you, so we can be together forever."

"No, you don't, Starsk. You don't want this." And Hutch gestured to himself with a sweep of his hand. "I'm undead. A vampire. I feed on you because I like it, not because I have to. How could I ever want to make you like me? You'd be dead and I'd be a murderer."

Rising from the bed, Starsky let the sheet fall, unconcerned about his nudity. Hutch had seen him in all states of undress before and in the past weeks during their encounters, they'd both touched, licked, and sucked each other's bodies in a frenzy of lust so profound that Starsky wondered why they hadn't been lovers before this.

"Yes, I'd be dead, but we'd be together. And death is a relative term, as we've found out." Starsky smirked his winning smile and he saw Hutch's mouth curl up slightly at this comment.

Starsky slowly advanced towards his partner, holding out his hand in entreaty. "Hutch, you know we have to do something. I can't go back on the streets by myself, partnerless, and at the same time let you feed on me every night. I'd be too exhausted and I might make a mistake. Could end up dead in an alleyway from some punk, but, if you turned me into a vampire, I wouldn't have to worry about being killed on duty. I wouldn't have to worry about dying at all-"

Hutch interrupted abruptly, "Because you'd be dead already, buddy."

Starsky had worked around this argument in his head earlier, so he was ready with his answer. "Would you rather me be undead with you or dead in the ground without you? Take your pick."

The absolute look of terror on Hutch's face let Starsky know the battle was nearly over, but he continued to press his point.

"Look, we both know you can survive on animal blood if you want to, but we both prefer it when you drink from me. I can't function as a cop and as your 'donor,' it isn't physically possibly. And honestly, Hutch, I don't want to be on the streets without you. I lost the taste for the job a while back and was only staying because you were."

"Then quit your job, Starsky. Get a safer profession -- one where we don't have to worry about who is watching your back. We could be together that way."

Like a dog with a bone, he refused to give up; Starsky pounded away at Hutch's latest opposing thought with his own. "And how long do you think I'd be satisfied with that, Hutch? Suppose I give up the force, get a nice little 9 to 5 gig and you stay at home like the happy little wife waiting for me to arrive at 6 on the dot. Every night you feed on me and every morning I get up still exhausted and drag myself into my safe, insignificant world bored out of my skull. How long does this go on? Months? Years? Decades? In the end, this same question will still come up sooner or later as I age and you don't."

He'd finally reached the place where Hutch was standing. Starsky touched his partner's arm, grasping it tightly, wanting to feel the connection that hovered between them now.

Now Starsky pleaded, his voice getting deeper, "Don't you get it yet, Blondie? Those six days I thought you were dead, I wanted to be too. Now that you're here, I don't want to waste a single minute apart again. I've thought about this and I know what I'm doing. I'm not drugged or under your 'influence,' I want to be with you."

Starsky could practically see the final battle being waged in Hutch's brain, his friend's features were strained as he struggled with the decision. Finally Hutch responded, "Why would you do this, Starsky; give up everything for me? Give up your life, your career, your family. Why?"

Lifting his hand off Hutch's arm, Starsky lightly caressed his lover's face, whispering, "Don't you know? I love you."

Those words broke Hutch and he fell into Starsky's embrace, nearly crushing him in his strong arms. Starsky could hear the muffled sobs against his shoulder as Hutch cried out all his doubt, apprehension, and remorse at having put his partner through this ordeal.

"It's okay, Baby Blue. Let it all out. These last weeks have been hell on us both."

Starsky didn't know how long they held on to one another, but when Hutch's emotional outburst was done, Starsky moved them towards the bed, helping Hutch sit down next to him.

"Starsky, how could you love me now? I'm a monster."

Incredulous that Hutch could think that, Starsky exclaimed, "Never! Look at me, Hutchinson." Hutch's blond head was raised and their eyes locked. Starsky continued, "You are not a monster. You are the kindest, gentlest man I know. And no matter what you've become, nothing can change what's in here."

And with that, Starsky brought his hand to Hutch's chest and touched the area that surrounded Hutch's heart. Hutch's responding smile was blinding and Starsky felt the great despair of the last weeks lift and disappear.

"I don't deserve you, Starsk. Your friendship, your love."

"Yes, you do and if it takes me the next hundred years or so, I'll prove you're worthy of it all, Hutch. Now, please, make me yours."

* * *

Hutch considered all his options and in the end could only come up with one answer to Starsky's request. His voice was calm when he replied, "I'll never do anything to make you regret this decision. I swear."

Gathering Starsky into his arms, Hutch felt the last of his fear suddenly and utterly give way under the weight of his devotion and love for Starsky. This was his partner, his friend, and soon, his lover for all time. 

After pressing feverish kisses all over his partner's face, Hutch nuzzled Starsky's lips with his own, teasing the entrance with his tongue. Starsky responded, but Hutch could feel the slight hesitation in his lover's answering strokes. Hutch understood the nervousness. Starsky had to die in order for them to be together. 

All Hutch's earlier doubts were gone, replaced by the love he had for this man in his arms. Hutch knew he wouldn't be able to face all eternity without Starsky by his side, he'd rather have Starsky drive a stake through his heart and kill him. He had to have Starsky; they had to be together.

To dispel Starsky's last minute doubts, Hutch pulled Starsky more fully into his arms, their faces only inches apart and whispered seductively, "Don't think about what's going to happen, Starsky. Just feel. Feel how much I love you. Feel how much I want you." And with that statement, Hutch rocked his lower body against his partner, urging him to feel his erection pressed between them.

Hutch continued, "Please, be with me. Trust me like you've never trusted me before."

Drawing on all his past experience in seducing women, of loving them, Hutch knew what he had to do. Starsky wouldn't be able to resist him for long after this.

Hutch kissed Starsky again; savage pleasure and searing lust engulfed his senses the moment their lips touched. His lips were hot and bruising, leaving no lingering doubts that Hutch wanted his partner. Breaking away briefly from those tempting lips, Hutch held Starsky in a bone-crushing grip, as he pushed Starsky beneath his body, trapping him. He sighed as the sensations overwhelmed him, Starsky's nipples brushing his own. It was then Hutch felt Starsky's resistance fall away.

Starsky kissed him back, their tongues connecting in loving foreplay. Hutch kissed him in return with all the pent up passion he'd held back for so long. A raw cry escaped him and, feeling Starsky's mouth on his, his tongue driving deep and bold, Hutch was in heaven. The hell his life had become since he'd been attacked and turned into a vampire evaporated. Starsky loved him, nothing else mattered but that.

Never had he so hungered to make love to another person, to possess them body and soul. All the failed relationships in his past faded away. Gillian, Jeanie, Anna, Vanessa, and Abby. All were erased in the warmth of Starsky's embrace. He knew instinctively that if he had been attacked by the vampire while he'd been with any of them, they wouldn't have given up their entire lives to be with him. Only Starsky loved him enough to give up everything.

Hutch heard Starsky's gasp of arousal and glanced down to see Starsky's blue eyes dilated with desire. The expression of utter trust and love on that face was heartbreaking. He groaned in response, trying to hold back his natural instinct to make Starsky his now.

The primal, irrational part of his brain wanted to make love to Starsky first. To hear him moan in pleasure, writhe in delight, then bring him across right at the moment of climax, so his partner would never forget it -- or regret it. While the rational part wanted to softly woo his lover across with loving touches and kisses.

His primal side easily won the battle.

Kissing his way down Starsky's throat, feeling the pulse of blood beneath, Hutch moved lower, taking a dark-colored nipple with his teeth.  He sucked the nub into his mouth, and flicked it with his tongue. Starsky moaned in delight and Hutch felt Starsky wrap his fingers in his hair, arching himself eagerly into Hutch's mouth. He wanted Starsky so badly that it was difficult to breathe, let alone speak, but he was able to pant out his partner's name.

Slowly, he felt Starsky's hands wrestle loose of his hair and slip down his upper back, then lower, finally coming to rest on his ass. Hutch could only suck harder, moving from one protruding nub to another, dragging his mouth and tongue across Starsky's torso as he did. In response, Starsky started to move under him, and that brazen invitation was too much for Hutch to ignore. His body screamed for release, his senses spinning out of control. He needed to fuck Starsky and for that he needed to be naked. 

Reluctantly breaking away from Starsky's chest, Hutch rolled away from his lover to quickly remove his corduroy pants and underwear. Coming back to his partner's willing arms, Hutch's first thought was that Starsky was absolutely beautiful. His strong, hard body tousled hair and clear-blue eyes made him look like an angel sent from heaven to taunt Hutch with what he'd always longed for, but never believed he'd have.

Hutch groaned as he felt Starsky's nakedness against his own. Taking Starsky's mouth in another mind-numbing kiss, Hutch then slipped a hand between their bodies and firmly grasped Starsky's cock and began to stroke it. Starsky cried out, "Hutch, oh God," and jerked in his hand. Hutch continued to stroke his partner until he knew Starsky was about to explode.

Pulling away from Starsky's mouth, Hutch lovingly bit and nibbled his way down Starsky's chest and abdomen, hovering over his lover's weeping dick. Starsky whimpered, his body straining upwards, urging Hutch to finish the act.

Hutch felt Starsky shudder when his lips moved over him, gently tasting his partner's essence. Then he opened his lips to pull Starsky deeper into his mouth. Starsky tasted of salt and sweat and that musky scent which had been inflaming Hutch's senses all evening was most strong here. Hutch's blood throbbed in his veins, compelling him to complete the act, to finish pleasuring Starsky.

Starsky's organ pulsed in his mouth. He sucked gently at first, then harder as Starsky thrashed about, nearly separating them. Hutch worked his mouth around the engorged cock like a pro, briefly pausing to murmur, "You taste so good, Starsk. I could suck you all night long." 

Bucking up into Hutch's mouth, Starsky moaned out his desperation. "God, Hutch...please, babe, finish it!"

Not wanting to disappoint his lover, Hutch did as he was commanded. Pulling back slightly, Hutch allowed the organ to slip out of his mouth, then sucked fiercely just on the tip. He then permitted his fangs to extend, gently scrapping his incisors against Starsky's throbbing member, drawing a small amount of blood.

Starsky screamed in pleasure.

Taking the cock back in his mouth, Hutch sucked deeply while gently caressing Starsky's balls with his right hand. His left hand was busy stroking Starsky's heaving chest.

The stimulation and blood play was too much for his dark-haired lover and he finally came, sobbing Hutch's name, until Hutch could feel Starsky's body go lax in response to his ferocious climax. Hutch let the organ slip from his mouth after eagerly swallowing Starsky's emissions.

Crawling his way up his lover's body, Hutch kissed Starsky. Long moments later, they broke apart and Hutch saw a slow, wicked smile curve Starsky's mouth. It promised delights Hutch had only dreamed about and Starsky huskily growled, "You want me to help with that?" The 'that' being Hutch's erection.

Hutch ground his hips against his lover's as a silent reply and moved one of his hands down between Starsky's legs, gently stroking his lover's cock back into fullness. Then he moved his long fingers into a place he knew no other man had ever touched.

Starsky cried out, allowed his legs to fall open, and without words offered himself to Hutch. He took his time opening up Starsky, scissoring his two fingers inside his lover's ass, preparing him for the loving to come. Hutch's own body was raging for release.

Desire thrummed through his entire body, fire raced in his blood. He could wait no longer. Using some of the leftover blood on Starsky's neck as lubrication for his cock, Hutch moved over Starsky and started to impale his partner, slowly, inch by inch. Starsky howled out in pleasure and pain. Hutch stilled until he felt Starsky's body finally accept the full length of his cock.

Deliberately Hutch moved and thrust forward and he felt Starsky's inner velvet walls clench around him. It was addicting and reminded Hutch of the feeling he got when drinking Starsky's blood. He could lose himself in Starsky's body forever. The hot friction consumed him and Hutch plunged deeply into his lover, causing Starsky to thrash about as he nailed Starsky's prostate. The movements continued over and over until they were both panting from the exertion.

The pleasure consumed Hutch until he was riding a crest so high that he felt Starsky's and his souls collide. It was beyond any climax or rush he'd ever felt before. Lights danced behind his eyes, the darkness became vivid and bright and he could hear Starsky's blood pulsing through his veins. He lost himself in pure feeling, in pure love.

Hutch felt Starsky finally surrender to their passion, as wetness coated his belly. Then, Starsky clenched his inner muscles one last time and this triggered Hutch's own climax so that wave after wave of pleasure swept through him.

Suddenly, Hutch couldn't wait any longer, his hunger after briefly tasting Starsky's blood was now raging out of control once again. He would make Starsky his now. Gathering his most treasured friend into his arms, Hutch felt every protective instinct flooding through his being: feelings he only associated with Starsky. Cradling him close, Hutch waited for Starsky to regain his composure, and when his partner's blue eyes fluttered open, their eyes met and then Hutch bent his head to Starsky's throat.

Starsky whispered, "Do it, Hutch."

Instantly, his teeth pierced the soft skin and everything changed as Hutch felt Starsky's lifeblood seep into his mouth. His blood was hot and spicy, the taste uniquely Starsky; it was a feast to Hutch's senses and nourishment for his spent body. Quickly, Hutch drank his fill, surpassing the amount he normally took from Starsky in a feeding. Because he had been feeding on Starsky for weeks now and his lover was already weak from their previous encounters, Hutch was easily able to drain Starsky to the point of death within a few minutes.

In response to his feeding, he could hear Starsky's heart slow down, almost ready to stop. The process was nearly complete; it was now or never.

Remembering how Angie had brought him across, Hutch abruptly broke the suction on Starsky's neck and, using his incisors to slit a wound into his own wrist, brought his bleeding arm to Starsky's mouth and told him, "Drink. Give yourself to me. To us."

Starsky drank and Hutch could feel the energy coursing between them. Finally, Hutch could feel himself becoming weak from Starsky's efforts and he pulled his wrist away from his lover's greedy mouth. A low moan escaped from Starsky, seemingly torn from his very soul. Hutch saw Starsky lift his head, his blue eyes hot and bloodthirsty with his own hunger. Their lips met in a savage kiss and Hutch's body hardened until he thought he might go mad.

Breaking away from Starsky's bloodstained lips, Hutch said, "Don't be afraid, we're nearly there."

Hutch could see Starsky's body was shutting down. His breathing had ceased and Hutch could hear that Starsky's heartbeat was getting fainter and fainter until it suddenly stopped. 

Starsky was dead, but it was only a matter of time before he would rise again and be by Hutch's side -- this time as a vampire. Hutch only had to wait for this to happen.

And for the first time in a long time, Hutch felt truly alive and at peace. He felt the darkness take him and this time he didn't resist, as he knew when he awoke, Starsky would be with him -- forever.

* * *

Epilogue

Starsky awoke in blackness, unsure where he was. Then awareness settled over him and he realized he was in his coffin. It was night and his lover still slumbered under him. Pressing his head closer to Hutch's chest, he could feel his partner's steady breathing beneath his ear. It was comforting and filled him with a sense of serenity.

In the decades since Hutch had made him a vampire, Starsky had learned many things. One, that vampires weren't inherently evil creatures. Hutch and he had never taken another human life to feed, relying instead on animal blood to survive. Two, that there were more of their kind in the world, although their numbers were small. And three, he never regretted becoming a vampire.

Listening carefully, Starsky could hear the sounds of the city stirring outside. Car horns honked and police sirens wailed. But even from this distance, Starsky could smell the ocean and hear the air rushing across the cold waters of San Francisco Bay. He could tell it was going to be a chilly evening.

Some nights he missed the sights and sounds of Bay City and his job as a police officer, but then he looked at Hutch's ethereal face and all that was forgotten. Their decision to move to San Francisco from Bay City after his death had been a practical one. At the time, they had regretted leaving their family and friends, but it had been necessary to break all ties with their pasts and end their mortal lives as David Starsky and Ken Hutchinson. Plus, in relocating to San Francisco, they wouldn't attract the attention as a gay couple that they would have in another city or small town.

Now they were known as David Michaels and Kenneth Richardson and they owned the second biggest private investigation firm in the city. It was the closest they could get to actual police work without revealing their former identities to the world. Although most of the cops they had worked with in Bay City had either retired or died in the passing years, so nothing of their former lives could be easily traced back to them.

Starsky was happy in his new life, content with the way things had played out.

As he lay there, secure in Hutch's arms, with just the faint pangs of hunger coursing through his veins, he felt his lover begin to stir.

He knew the moment Hutch opened his eyes and woke up. Sighing, he leaned up and kissed his big, blond beauty. The heat of Hutch's body under his filled him with sizzling desires and sensual images.

Many long moments later, they reluctantly parted, each feeling the pull of the night drawing them outside and away from their safe haven. 

Pushing open the lid of their enclosure, Starsky stood up and  then stepped out of their coffin, ready to explore the city. He held out his hand for Hutch and his lover eagerly took it.

The city awaited them.