Type: Slash / Post-Sweet Revenge
Summary: What does Starsky want in his life, and what does Hutch want from Starsky?
Categories: Angst
Many Thanks to Provencepuss for beta reading!
Summary: What does Starsky want in his life, and what does Hutch want from Starsky?
Categories: Angst
Many Thanks to Provencepuss for beta reading!
With or Without You
Starsky and Hutch had moved into a two-bedroom apartment a month after Starsky was released from the hospital. Hutch then spent the next five months patching up a physically and emotionally shattered Starsky. Somewhere during that period Hutch realized that his feelings for his partner went far beyond and deeper than the close friendship they shared. But, instead of talking to Starsky about how he felt, he pushed Starsky back to the dating arena. And when Starsky wasn't taking his dates very seriously Hutch wanted an explanation. Not for Starsky's sake, but for himself.
"You haven't had a date for the last two weeks, Starsk. How come?" Hutch asked at the dinner table. They were having steak and potato for supper. "Losing your touch with the ladies?"
Starsky cut into his steak so hard that the knife screeched against the plate. "I had a date just last week."
Hutch flinched at the sound. "Flirting and dancing and having a drink doesn't count, buddy."
Starsky cut his potato in two. "So what are you trying to say?" he continued butchering his food until it ended up in a mash.
"Nothing!" Hutch stopped eating. "Just making an observation!"
"Well- maybe I haven't met the right girl, yet." Starsky poked at his steak.
"You shouldn't play with your food, boy," Hutch waggled his fork at Starsky. "What about Sheila?" he asked. They had met Sheila while walking along the beach, one afternoon. She was with a group of girls playing beach volleyball, and had invited Starsky and Hutch to join them. By the end of the day Sheila had asked Starsky to have a drink with her, and Starsky accepted. But he never went out with her again.
Starsky scrunched his nose. "I didn't like her perfume," he said.
"What happened with Megan?" Hutch asked. Megan was the redhead they met at The Pits one day. Starsky danced with her the first day. Met with her for lunch on another, and that was the end of it.
Starsky grunted. "I couldn't stand the way she runs her tongue over her teeth all the time."
Hutch bit into his bottom lip to keep him from laughing. "And Jane?" he asked.
"Who's Jane?"
Hutch rolled his eyes. What was the point asking about Jane when Starsky couldn’t even remember her?
"So what are you sayin'?" Starsky leaned against the chair.
"Well… maybe you are dating the wrong kind of people." Hutch suggested.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Starsky asked angrily.
"Think about it. Not a single one of them was good enough for you, Starsk."
"I'll meet her, someday," Starsky retorted. "At least that's what you said."
"Tell me- what's the most important thing you'd look for, in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with?"
Starsky thought for a while and sighed. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me," he challenged. "You are the one who set me up with all these women."
Hutch refrained from commenting.
Not so long after that, they met Meredith at a department fund raising. Starsky had slept with her, once, about two or three years back. Hutch knew all about it. Meredith was Starsky's partner while Hutch was recovering from a gunshot wound. Starsky had even called her his partner. Hutch hated her for getting close to Starsky, and stealing Hutch's place away from him. But at the same time, he realized that vibrant, feisty, clever witted Meredith would be a perfect match for Starsky.
"Have you ever thought of asking Meredith out, again?" Hutch asked.
"I had never asked her out, Hutch. We never went on a date."
"Why not? I mean- I know you liked her. And she likes you for sure."
"Okay." Starsky agreed without any hesitation. "If you think that's gonna help."
Hutch didn't understand what Starsky meant, but he didn't push for explanations.
***
Hutch hated Meredith.
He hated himself even more. He had brought Meredith into their lives, and he harbored this grudge against Starsky for going out with her. It was Hutch who made it happen; he chose this self-destructive path. Why did he blame Starsky?
Hutch was taking long swallows of his beer when Starsky returned after his first date with Meredith.
"You are home early," Hutch commented.
"I couldn't concentrate. My mind was on other things."
Hutch choked on his beer, spilling it all over his t-shirt. "Concentrate?" he asked between his coughs.
Starsky glared at Hutch. "Yes!" He walked over to the kitchen and picked up a wash cloth. "My mind was pre-occupied." He threw the napkin over to Hutch.
Hutch dabbed at the spill. "What was on your mind?"
"I was thinking of the case we are working on."
"You mean the case we were working on?"
"Yes." Starsky replied.
"Ah," Hutch smirked, wondering whether this relationship would ever go beyond the first date.
"What's with that attitude?"
Hutch shook his head. "Just wondering what on earth kept your mind pre-occupied when the case was all done with and closed two days ago."
Starsky sighed and sat beside Hutch. "What do you want me to do, Hutch?"
Hutch's mind went blank. What did he want Starsky to do?
***
Hutch was flipping TV channels lazily when Starsky strolled into the living room, dressed in his red shirt and denim jeans. He and Meredith had been going out for two weeks now.
"You sure you'll be okay by yourself?" Starsky asked, rolling up his sleeves.
Instead of answering, Hutch glared at Starsky. "Why don't you ask Huggy to come baby-sit?"
"You mean Hutch-sit?" Starsky said, checking whether his rolled up sleeves were of the same length.
"Well then, ask Huggy to come Hutch-sit me," Hutch said, annoyingly.
"You're mad at me, aren't you?"
"Starsk, you've been seeing Meredith for-" Hutch paused, making a show of counting days. "What? - Two weeks now?" 16 days to be exact. "And you have been trying to get me to go out with the two of you on your dates. And then you keep on asking me whether it's okay for you to go out with her. So yes, I'm sick of answering the same question over and over again. For heaven's sake, you don’t need me or my permission to go out with Meredith or any other woman."
Starsky sighed and sat beside Hutch. "Why don't you go out anymore, Hutch?"
"Because I - I haven't met anyone I would like to go out with," Hutch snapped.
"You haven't met anyone because you are stuck here. You pieced me back together when I was falling apart, and now, I'm fine and back to normal, because of you. I have been hanging out with Meredith, again, because of you. But then, you don't want to-"
"I can't go date someone just because it’s convenient for you," Hutch spat.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Starsky's eyebrows shot up. "How would that be convenient for me?"
"Listen." Hutch turned towards Starsky. "I'm fine. You don’t have to feel guilty just because I'm spending more time at home. It's what I want to do. So, please, get out of here. You shouldn't keep Meredith waiting."
Hanging his head dejectedly, Starsky got up. Without uttering another word he stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.
Great! Hutch sighed. Now I've hurt him. I've send him on his way to meet Meredith in a foul mood. Why can't I be the friend I was before? Why do I have to hurt him this way? Hutch stretched along the couch, resting his back against the arm rest. He pressed his fingers to his forehead.
Hutch couldn't live like this with Starsky. And he wouldn't survive without Starsky, either.
***
With the sound of the door knob turning Hutch woke up with a jolt. He blinked sleepily, watching Starsky entering the apartment. It was close to midnight. "Didn't think you'll come home tonight."
Shrugging his shoulders Starsky walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the overhead cabinet and filled it with water. He gulped down the water as if had been deprived of it for days.
"Is everything all right?" Hutch asked.
Starsky filled up his glass again. "Why don't you tell me?" Starsky replied, his back still turned towards Hutch.
Hutch got up of the couch and joined Starsky in the kitchen. "What happened?"
"Nothin'." Starsky emptied the second glass of water, and turned around.
He looked as if he would come apart completely and fall on to the ground in a pile of a dust.
"Starsk? What's the matter?"
Starsky took Hutch's arms in his and drew them around him. "Hold me," he said raggedly.
Hutch didn't resist even for a second. He slid his arms around Starsky's waist and locked them together. It had been a while since he had held Starsky. He pulled Starsky into his chest. Did Meredith break up with Starsky? Hutch's stomach clenched and unclenched like a fist. It was his fault! He had pushed Starsky into this relationship, and it had only caused more pain to Starsky. "What happened?"
"Nothin'," Starsky buried his nose in Hutch's neck. "Just… just hold me like you did when I was sick."
When I was sick… Hutch sighed. Oh, Starsk! Starsky wasn't sick. He was damaged; broken beyond repair. It hurt too much to think of the damage Gunther had incurred upon his partner, physically and emotionally. Hutch tightened his hold around Starsky.
"You were always with me when I was hurting," Starsky snuggled against Hutch's chest.
Starsky had been constantly terrorized by nightmares, and every night he had reached for Hutch for comfort. "You wouldn't sleep if I wasn't around," Hutch said fondly, resting his chin on Starsky's head.
"I didn't have the will to live, Hutch. If it wasn't for you—"
"Don't!" Hutch didn't want to hear the rest. "Please, don't." Hutch had not wanted to live, either. "You have come a long way, Starsk. You shouldn't live in the past."
Starsky raised his head and looked into Hutch's eyes. "But those days were beautiful," he said, sadly.
"What happened today, Starsk?" Hutch asked. What was ugly about the present day? "You haven't wanted me to hold you since-- since we started to work again."
Starsky fell forward and leaned his forehead on Hutch's chin. "Wanted to, but… didn't ask. Thought you were done with me."
Inhaling sharply at the tingling of Starsky's warm breath on his sensitive skin at the neck Hutch took a couple of minutes to steady his voice. "Done with you? What's going on, buddy?"
"Nothin's going on, Hutch," Starsky said frustratingly.
Filling his lungs with the scent of his partner, Hutch closed his eyes. "You smell good," he said.
Starsky chuckled. "We use the same shampoo, soap, toothpaste, aftershave… I smell like you."
"No," said Hutch. "You smell different." It was the truth. Everything smelled different and good on Starsky.
"I need to ask you somethin'," Starsky stepped back, allowing space between them, but not freeing himself from Hutch's grip completely. "Actually I need you to do somethin' for me."
"Anything," said Hutch. He would bring Starsky the moon and stars if he had to.
"Do you still love me?"
"Still?" What period or incident was the cut-off point for this still? Gunther's attack on them?
"Like when I was sick."
"Starsk?" Hutch was at a loss of words. Did Starsky feel that Hutch didn't love him now? "I have always loved you." I never stopped loving you!
"Do you still love me the way you loved me when I was sick?" Starsky stressed his question.
Hutch huffed out a breath. Starsky was trying to get at something, and Hutch didn't want to complicate the situation. Starsky needed just a yes or no answer. "Yes!"
Starsky's eyes never left Hutch's face. It was like he was scrutinizing, analyzing Hutch's every blink. "Kiss me." Starsky's voice was deep and firm, his eyes getting dark.
"What?" Confusion turned into outright panic in a finger-snap. Did Hutch hear him right?
"You heard me loud and clear." Starsky's eyes gleamed with a slightly playful glint.
Hutch groaned inwardly. If only Starsky knew what those rolled up sleeves, and the half-way unbuttoned shirt could do to Hutch. "Sure," said Hutch, ignoring the warning bells that were ringing in his head. He yanked Starsky closer and pressed his lips to Starsky's forehead. "Satisfied?" he asked.
In a gesture of half mocking, Starsky cast his eyes to heaven. "I want the real deal."
Real deal? "Now why would you need me for that, Starsk?" What was Starsky playing at?
"You said you'd give me anything."
And Hutch was ready to lay a couple of solar systems at Starsky's feet. But Starsky was asking him to move the earth and sky. He wanted the real deal. "Okay," Hutch hoped Starsky wouldn't notice the slight quiver in his voice. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Starsky, quickly and lightly. "There," Hutch said shakily. "Now get lost. I have stuff to do." He pushed Starsky away from him and walked away. "We are out of groceries." He picked up the car keys out of the table and stomped to the door and slammed out.
***
Two steps away from the door, Hutch realized that it was way past midnight. How could he forget the time? There wasn't any grocery shops open at this time. Shit! And he hadn't grabbed his wallet, either. Hutch turned back. Who and what was he running away from?
He opened the door and sauntered back into the living room. He could barely think at all; Starsky had given him a concussion, sort of, and it was only a whiz of a touch on the lips.
Starsky was still at the kitchen. "Didn't take that long to pick up the food. Must've been one hell of a checkout."
Hutch tossed the keys back on the table. "Might as well finish this," he muttered.
It took him only a couple of strides to get back to Starsky. Determined to see this through even it killed him, Hutch raked his hand though the dark curly hair, his fingers cupping Starsky's head and bringing him closer. Hutch's hot and demanding mouth was hard on Starsky's lips. Starsky better be ready to receive what he asked for!
Starsky wrapped his arms around Hutch's shoulders.
Hutch dragged Starsky against his body, plastering his whole length against Starsky's. Hutch kissed Starsky, his tongue prodding and gliding against Starsky's, his heavy and hot breath mixing with Starsky's until he didn't know where he began and where Starsky ended.
Hutch was out of control and spiraling out of it. As he deepened his kiss, Starsky shuddered and his whole body trembled; a catchy, throaty moan of pleasure escaped. What the hell was Hutch supposed to do with that? The longer he tasted Starsky, the more he wanted of him, but Starsky had only asked for a kiss.
Blood roaring in his ears, Hutch managed to break contact and step away from Starsky. "Was that the real deal you were looking for?" he asked, hoping he sounded calm, despite feeling as he was struck by lightning.
Starsky's eyes were the shade of midnight blue. "Holy mother of God," he growled. "She was right."
Hutch's eyes narrowed to slits. "What did you say?"
Starsky scooped his fingers through his hair. "Meredith! She was right."
"Meredith," Hutch hissed. The pressure tide up in knots in his belly turned in to rage, curling and coiling into a spring ready to bounce off. "Did she set you up for this? Were you testing me?"
"Testing?" Danger lurked beneath that quiet tone. "Funny you should say that. 'Cos from what I've seen it was you who's been testing me for all this time, partner."
What was Starsky talking about? There were no tests on Hutch's part. He had known for ages what he wanted.
"I waited for you to come out with it, but all what you did was push me away from you." Starsky was very close to lose his cool. "And, yes, Meredith put me up for this."
"I did what I thought was the best for you," Hutch explained.
"Stuff it," Starsky spat. "I didn't want anyone else in my life, Hutch. But you had to test me." Starsky pointed his finger at Hutch. Silver flecks danced dangerously in those dark blues; "You couldn't trust me, so you set me up with all these women because you wanted to be sure of me."
"Starsky, No!" Hutch protested.
"At first… I thought that you wanted me to find a woman so that you can get back to your life."
Hutch's chest tightened with sadness, throbbing and blocking any words that were formed. Everything was a blur. "God, no." Hutch had wanted Starsky. Only Starsky!
"I took your tests, Hutch." Starsky walked across the living room and sat at the sofa. "I didn't know how many I had to pass to prove myself." Slouched over the sofa, Starsky looked broken, and this time it was Hutch's undoing. "Right when I thought you were done with it, you threw Meredith at me."
The pain coiled in Hutch's stomach was too sharp for grief. Why didn’t he see this before? Why couldn't he understand what Starsky really needed?
"I went out with Meredith thinking that you seriously wanted to see me having a long-term thing with her… so that you can think of something, someone, for yourself. I pretended that I was 'dating' her, but, that wasn't enough either." Starsky rubbed his temples, struggling for composure. "What were you waiting for Hutch?" Starsky looked up, staring directly into Hutch's eyes. "Were you waiting until Rosey comes back, and I prove to you that I don’t love her anymore? Or are you waiting for Terry to come back from the dead?" Starsky's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, furiously.
Hutch winced. The distress in those words cut off his breath. It was too much. Hutch knelt in front of Starsky and grabbed his shoulders. "Stop it," he said hoarsely. "God, stop it."
"I never loved Meredith. She has been a good friend to me the past few days. I talked to her about you, us, what we've been through."
A friend? Nothing else?
"Meredith figured out what you really wanted. I could've kicked myself for not seeing it, but… I realized you'd never say anything. I had to get it out of you, one way or the other."
There were no need for words. Starsky already knew, and Hutch wanted to show how much. His nerves were just starting to tingle when his mouth met Starsky's for the second time that day. Starsky melted into Hutch as his hands moved through Starsky's hair, shoulders, and down to his hips, holding him tight. Hutch's blood blazed as Starsky matched his passion intensely, devastating his mouth, leaving Hutch giddy and alive with need and want. Hutch's body vibrated with tiny tremors. A trail of fire shot across his belly, scorching and torturing him. He was drugged, but he should take it slow; Starsky may not be ready for it.
"Don't hold out on me," Starsky protested, obviously sensing Hutch's reluctance. "Not anymore," he rasped. "You, Hutch. I want only you."
Senses awakened, nerve ends exploding, Hutch yearned to love, caress, and cherish the one and only person he had truly loved in his whole life.
Hutch made love to Starsky, discovering over and over, again and more, what Starsky meant for him; Starsky loved him back. His body and mind coming alive as Starsky murmured his name, meeting and matching his own passion and desire. When Starsky screamed for him demanding more, and when Hutch could bear it no longer, he rode the last miles of the steep desires together with Starsky, hand in hand, heart to heart; aching for each other and loving each other with ravenous madness.
***
Hutch pulled the covers over them, then snuggled back in bed with his partner; the love of his life. He wanted not just Starsky's smiles and his kisses, but also his tears, moods, snarls, and his fierce temper. Hutch wanted Starsky at dawn and sunrise; with the moon and the night fall. At dusk and the sun set.
"Hutch," Starsky mumbled, half asleep, half awake. "You asked me what the most important thing I'd look for, in the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."
"Yeah?"
"I am not looking for someone I can live with," Starsky said, looking all mussed and flushed.
"No?"
"No. I don't need someone I can live with. I want that one person I cannot live without."
Hutch's lips curved in a smile. He gathered Starsky close, and held him as he slept.
*****************************END****************************************
Starsky and Hutch had moved into a two-bedroom apartment a month after Starsky was released from the hospital. Hutch then spent the next five months patching up a physically and emotionally shattered Starsky. Somewhere during that period Hutch realized that his feelings for his partner went far beyond and deeper than the close friendship they shared. But, instead of talking to Starsky about how he felt, he pushed Starsky back to the dating arena. And when Starsky wasn't taking his dates very seriously Hutch wanted an explanation. Not for Starsky's sake, but for himself.
"You haven't had a date for the last two weeks, Starsk. How come?" Hutch asked at the dinner table. They were having steak and potato for supper. "Losing your touch with the ladies?"
Starsky cut into his steak so hard that the knife screeched against the plate. "I had a date just last week."
Hutch flinched at the sound. "Flirting and dancing and having a drink doesn't count, buddy."
Starsky cut his potato in two. "So what are you trying to say?" he continued butchering his food until it ended up in a mash.
"Nothing!" Hutch stopped eating. "Just making an observation!"
"Well- maybe I haven't met the right girl, yet." Starsky poked at his steak.
"You shouldn't play with your food, boy," Hutch waggled his fork at Starsky. "What about Sheila?" he asked. They had met Sheila while walking along the beach, one afternoon. She was with a group of girls playing beach volleyball, and had invited Starsky and Hutch to join them. By the end of the day Sheila had asked Starsky to have a drink with her, and Starsky accepted. But he never went out with her again.
Starsky scrunched his nose. "I didn't like her perfume," he said.
"What happened with Megan?" Hutch asked. Megan was the redhead they met at The Pits one day. Starsky danced with her the first day. Met with her for lunch on another, and that was the end of it.
Starsky grunted. "I couldn't stand the way she runs her tongue over her teeth all the time."
Hutch bit into his bottom lip to keep him from laughing. "And Jane?" he asked.
"Who's Jane?"
Hutch rolled his eyes. What was the point asking about Jane when Starsky couldn’t even remember her?
"So what are you sayin'?" Starsky leaned against the chair.
"Well… maybe you are dating the wrong kind of people." Hutch suggested.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Starsky asked angrily.
"Think about it. Not a single one of them was good enough for you, Starsk."
"I'll meet her, someday," Starsky retorted. "At least that's what you said."
"Tell me- what's the most important thing you'd look for, in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with?"
Starsky thought for a while and sighed. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me," he challenged. "You are the one who set me up with all these women."
Hutch refrained from commenting.
Not so long after that, they met Meredith at a department fund raising. Starsky had slept with her, once, about two or three years back. Hutch knew all about it. Meredith was Starsky's partner while Hutch was recovering from a gunshot wound. Starsky had even called her his partner. Hutch hated her for getting close to Starsky, and stealing Hutch's place away from him. But at the same time, he realized that vibrant, feisty, clever witted Meredith would be a perfect match for Starsky.
"Have you ever thought of asking Meredith out, again?" Hutch asked.
"I had never asked her out, Hutch. We never went on a date."
"Why not? I mean- I know you liked her. And she likes you for sure."
"Okay." Starsky agreed without any hesitation. "If you think that's gonna help."
Hutch didn't understand what Starsky meant, but he didn't push for explanations.
***
Hutch hated Meredith.
He hated himself even more. He had brought Meredith into their lives, and he harbored this grudge against Starsky for going out with her. It was Hutch who made it happen; he chose this self-destructive path. Why did he blame Starsky?
Hutch was taking long swallows of his beer when Starsky returned after his first date with Meredith.
"You are home early," Hutch commented.
"I couldn't concentrate. My mind was on other things."
Hutch choked on his beer, spilling it all over his t-shirt. "Concentrate?" he asked between his coughs.
Starsky glared at Hutch. "Yes!" He walked over to the kitchen and picked up a wash cloth. "My mind was pre-occupied." He threw the napkin over to Hutch.
Hutch dabbed at the spill. "What was on your mind?"
"I was thinking of the case we are working on."
"You mean the case we were working on?"
"Yes." Starsky replied.
"Ah," Hutch smirked, wondering whether this relationship would ever go beyond the first date.
"What's with that attitude?"
Hutch shook his head. "Just wondering what on earth kept your mind pre-occupied when the case was all done with and closed two days ago."
Starsky sighed and sat beside Hutch. "What do you want me to do, Hutch?"
Hutch's mind went blank. What did he want Starsky to do?
***
Hutch was flipping TV channels lazily when Starsky strolled into the living room, dressed in his red shirt and denim jeans. He and Meredith had been going out for two weeks now.
"You sure you'll be okay by yourself?" Starsky asked, rolling up his sleeves.
Instead of answering, Hutch glared at Starsky. "Why don't you ask Huggy to come baby-sit?"
"You mean Hutch-sit?" Starsky said, checking whether his rolled up sleeves were of the same length.
"Well then, ask Huggy to come Hutch-sit me," Hutch said, annoyingly.
"You're mad at me, aren't you?"
"Starsk, you've been seeing Meredith for-" Hutch paused, making a show of counting days. "What? - Two weeks now?" 16 days to be exact. "And you have been trying to get me to go out with the two of you on your dates. And then you keep on asking me whether it's okay for you to go out with her. So yes, I'm sick of answering the same question over and over again. For heaven's sake, you don’t need me or my permission to go out with Meredith or any other woman."
Starsky sighed and sat beside Hutch. "Why don't you go out anymore, Hutch?"
"Because I - I haven't met anyone I would like to go out with," Hutch snapped.
"You haven't met anyone because you are stuck here. You pieced me back together when I was falling apart, and now, I'm fine and back to normal, because of you. I have been hanging out with Meredith, again, because of you. But then, you don't want to-"
"I can't go date someone just because it’s convenient for you," Hutch spat.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Starsky's eyebrows shot up. "How would that be convenient for me?"
"Listen." Hutch turned towards Starsky. "I'm fine. You don’t have to feel guilty just because I'm spending more time at home. It's what I want to do. So, please, get out of here. You shouldn't keep Meredith waiting."
Hanging his head dejectedly, Starsky got up. Without uttering another word he stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.
Great! Hutch sighed. Now I've hurt him. I've send him on his way to meet Meredith in a foul mood. Why can't I be the friend I was before? Why do I have to hurt him this way? Hutch stretched along the couch, resting his back against the arm rest. He pressed his fingers to his forehead.
Hutch couldn't live like this with Starsky. And he wouldn't survive without Starsky, either.
***
With the sound of the door knob turning Hutch woke up with a jolt. He blinked sleepily, watching Starsky entering the apartment. It was close to midnight. "Didn't think you'll come home tonight."
Shrugging his shoulders Starsky walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the overhead cabinet and filled it with water. He gulped down the water as if had been deprived of it for days.
"Is everything all right?" Hutch asked.
Starsky filled up his glass again. "Why don't you tell me?" Starsky replied, his back still turned towards Hutch.
Hutch got up of the couch and joined Starsky in the kitchen. "What happened?"
"Nothin'." Starsky emptied the second glass of water, and turned around.
He looked as if he would come apart completely and fall on to the ground in a pile of a dust.
"Starsk? What's the matter?"
Starsky took Hutch's arms in his and drew them around him. "Hold me," he said raggedly.
Hutch didn't resist even for a second. He slid his arms around Starsky's waist and locked them together. It had been a while since he had held Starsky. He pulled Starsky into his chest. Did Meredith break up with Starsky? Hutch's stomach clenched and unclenched like a fist. It was his fault! He had pushed Starsky into this relationship, and it had only caused more pain to Starsky. "What happened?"
"Nothin'," Starsky buried his nose in Hutch's neck. "Just… just hold me like you did when I was sick."
When I was sick… Hutch sighed. Oh, Starsk! Starsky wasn't sick. He was damaged; broken beyond repair. It hurt too much to think of the damage Gunther had incurred upon his partner, physically and emotionally. Hutch tightened his hold around Starsky.
"You were always with me when I was hurting," Starsky snuggled against Hutch's chest.
Starsky had been constantly terrorized by nightmares, and every night he had reached for Hutch for comfort. "You wouldn't sleep if I wasn't around," Hutch said fondly, resting his chin on Starsky's head.
"I didn't have the will to live, Hutch. If it wasn't for you—"
"Don't!" Hutch didn't want to hear the rest. "Please, don't." Hutch had not wanted to live, either. "You have come a long way, Starsk. You shouldn't live in the past."
Starsky raised his head and looked into Hutch's eyes. "But those days were beautiful," he said, sadly.
"What happened today, Starsk?" Hutch asked. What was ugly about the present day? "You haven't wanted me to hold you since-- since we started to work again."
Starsky fell forward and leaned his forehead on Hutch's chin. "Wanted to, but… didn't ask. Thought you were done with me."
Inhaling sharply at the tingling of Starsky's warm breath on his sensitive skin at the neck Hutch took a couple of minutes to steady his voice. "Done with you? What's going on, buddy?"
"Nothin's going on, Hutch," Starsky said frustratingly.
Filling his lungs with the scent of his partner, Hutch closed his eyes. "You smell good," he said.
Starsky chuckled. "We use the same shampoo, soap, toothpaste, aftershave… I smell like you."
"No," said Hutch. "You smell different." It was the truth. Everything smelled different and good on Starsky.
"I need to ask you somethin'," Starsky stepped back, allowing space between them, but not freeing himself from Hutch's grip completely. "Actually I need you to do somethin' for me."
"Anything," said Hutch. He would bring Starsky the moon and stars if he had to.
"Do you still love me?"
"Still?" What period or incident was the cut-off point for this still? Gunther's attack on them?
"Like when I was sick."
"Starsk?" Hutch was at a loss of words. Did Starsky feel that Hutch didn't love him now? "I have always loved you." I never stopped loving you!
"Do you still love me the way you loved me when I was sick?" Starsky stressed his question.
Hutch huffed out a breath. Starsky was trying to get at something, and Hutch didn't want to complicate the situation. Starsky needed just a yes or no answer. "Yes!"
Starsky's eyes never left Hutch's face. It was like he was scrutinizing, analyzing Hutch's every blink. "Kiss me." Starsky's voice was deep and firm, his eyes getting dark.
"What?" Confusion turned into outright panic in a finger-snap. Did Hutch hear him right?
"You heard me loud and clear." Starsky's eyes gleamed with a slightly playful glint.
Hutch groaned inwardly. If only Starsky knew what those rolled up sleeves, and the half-way unbuttoned shirt could do to Hutch. "Sure," said Hutch, ignoring the warning bells that were ringing in his head. He yanked Starsky closer and pressed his lips to Starsky's forehead. "Satisfied?" he asked.
In a gesture of half mocking, Starsky cast his eyes to heaven. "I want the real deal."
Real deal? "Now why would you need me for that, Starsk?" What was Starsky playing at?
"You said you'd give me anything."
And Hutch was ready to lay a couple of solar systems at Starsky's feet. But Starsky was asking him to move the earth and sky. He wanted the real deal. "Okay," Hutch hoped Starsky wouldn't notice the slight quiver in his voice. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Starsky, quickly and lightly. "There," Hutch said shakily. "Now get lost. I have stuff to do." He pushed Starsky away from him and walked away. "We are out of groceries." He picked up the car keys out of the table and stomped to the door and slammed out.
***
Two steps away from the door, Hutch realized that it was way past midnight. How could he forget the time? There wasn't any grocery shops open at this time. Shit! And he hadn't grabbed his wallet, either. Hutch turned back. Who and what was he running away from?
He opened the door and sauntered back into the living room. He could barely think at all; Starsky had given him a concussion, sort of, and it was only a whiz of a touch on the lips.
Starsky was still at the kitchen. "Didn't take that long to pick up the food. Must've been one hell of a checkout."
Hutch tossed the keys back on the table. "Might as well finish this," he muttered.
It took him only a couple of strides to get back to Starsky. Determined to see this through even it killed him, Hutch raked his hand though the dark curly hair, his fingers cupping Starsky's head and bringing him closer. Hutch's hot and demanding mouth was hard on Starsky's lips. Starsky better be ready to receive what he asked for!
Starsky wrapped his arms around Hutch's shoulders.
Hutch dragged Starsky against his body, plastering his whole length against Starsky's. Hutch kissed Starsky, his tongue prodding and gliding against Starsky's, his heavy and hot breath mixing with Starsky's until he didn't know where he began and where Starsky ended.
Hutch was out of control and spiraling out of it. As he deepened his kiss, Starsky shuddered and his whole body trembled; a catchy, throaty moan of pleasure escaped. What the hell was Hutch supposed to do with that? The longer he tasted Starsky, the more he wanted of him, but Starsky had only asked for a kiss.
Blood roaring in his ears, Hutch managed to break contact and step away from Starsky. "Was that the real deal you were looking for?" he asked, hoping he sounded calm, despite feeling as he was struck by lightning.
Starsky's eyes were the shade of midnight blue. "Holy mother of God," he growled. "She was right."
Hutch's eyes narrowed to slits. "What did you say?"
Starsky scooped his fingers through his hair. "Meredith! She was right."
"Meredith," Hutch hissed. The pressure tide up in knots in his belly turned in to rage, curling and coiling into a spring ready to bounce off. "Did she set you up for this? Were you testing me?"
"Testing?" Danger lurked beneath that quiet tone. "Funny you should say that. 'Cos from what I've seen it was you who's been testing me for all this time, partner."
What was Starsky talking about? There were no tests on Hutch's part. He had known for ages what he wanted.
"I waited for you to come out with it, but all what you did was push me away from you." Starsky was very close to lose his cool. "And, yes, Meredith put me up for this."
"I did what I thought was the best for you," Hutch explained.
"Stuff it," Starsky spat. "I didn't want anyone else in my life, Hutch. But you had to test me." Starsky pointed his finger at Hutch. Silver flecks danced dangerously in those dark blues; "You couldn't trust me, so you set me up with all these women because you wanted to be sure of me."
"Starsky, No!" Hutch protested.
"At first… I thought that you wanted me to find a woman so that you can get back to your life."
Hutch's chest tightened with sadness, throbbing and blocking any words that were formed. Everything was a blur. "God, no." Hutch had wanted Starsky. Only Starsky!
"I took your tests, Hutch." Starsky walked across the living room and sat at the sofa. "I didn't know how many I had to pass to prove myself." Slouched over the sofa, Starsky looked broken, and this time it was Hutch's undoing. "Right when I thought you were done with it, you threw Meredith at me."
The pain coiled in Hutch's stomach was too sharp for grief. Why didn’t he see this before? Why couldn't he understand what Starsky really needed?
"I went out with Meredith thinking that you seriously wanted to see me having a long-term thing with her… so that you can think of something, someone, for yourself. I pretended that I was 'dating' her, but, that wasn't enough either." Starsky rubbed his temples, struggling for composure. "What were you waiting for Hutch?" Starsky looked up, staring directly into Hutch's eyes. "Were you waiting until Rosey comes back, and I prove to you that I don’t love her anymore? Or are you waiting for Terry to come back from the dead?" Starsky's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, furiously.
Hutch winced. The distress in those words cut off his breath. It was too much. Hutch knelt in front of Starsky and grabbed his shoulders. "Stop it," he said hoarsely. "God, stop it."
"I never loved Meredith. She has been a good friend to me the past few days. I talked to her about you, us, what we've been through."
A friend? Nothing else?
"Meredith figured out what you really wanted. I could've kicked myself for not seeing it, but… I realized you'd never say anything. I had to get it out of you, one way or the other."
There were no need for words. Starsky already knew, and Hutch wanted to show how much. His nerves were just starting to tingle when his mouth met Starsky's for the second time that day. Starsky melted into Hutch as his hands moved through Starsky's hair, shoulders, and down to his hips, holding him tight. Hutch's blood blazed as Starsky matched his passion intensely, devastating his mouth, leaving Hutch giddy and alive with need and want. Hutch's body vibrated with tiny tremors. A trail of fire shot across his belly, scorching and torturing him. He was drugged, but he should take it slow; Starsky may not be ready for it.
"Don't hold out on me," Starsky protested, obviously sensing Hutch's reluctance. "Not anymore," he rasped. "You, Hutch. I want only you."
Senses awakened, nerve ends exploding, Hutch yearned to love, caress, and cherish the one and only person he had truly loved in his whole life.
Hutch made love to Starsky, discovering over and over, again and more, what Starsky meant for him; Starsky loved him back. His body and mind coming alive as Starsky murmured his name, meeting and matching his own passion and desire. When Starsky screamed for him demanding more, and when Hutch could bear it no longer, he rode the last miles of the steep desires together with Starsky, hand in hand, heart to heart; aching for each other and loving each other with ravenous madness.
***
Hutch pulled the covers over them, then snuggled back in bed with his partner; the love of his life. He wanted not just Starsky's smiles and his kisses, but also his tears, moods, snarls, and his fierce temper. Hutch wanted Starsky at dawn and sunrise; with the moon and the night fall. At dusk and the sun set.
"Hutch," Starsky mumbled, half asleep, half awake. "You asked me what the most important thing I'd look for, in the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."
"Yeah?"
"I am not looking for someone I can live with," Starsky said, looking all mussed and flushed.
"No?"
"No. I don't need someone I can live with. I want that one person I cannot live without."
Hutch's lips curved in a smile. He gathered Starsky close, and held him as he slept.
*****************************END****************************************