Archive of Our Own

Hutch wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. He had only come into the house to get a drink of water when he overheard Starsky on the phone with his younger brother. But now that he’d walked in on part of the one-sided conversation, he found it impossible to move away, so he stood in the hallway listening to his partner tear Nick a new one.

“This’s gone beyond blood ties now, Nick, and you lyin’ to me isn’t helping your case any.” Starsky’s voice was low and lethal. “I know you had something to do with Hutch getting beat up, and as far as I’m concerned, you and me are through. So don’t call me, and don’t try’in get Ma to intervene between us. You hear me? And stop callin’ me!” Hutch heard the phone slam in its cradle. He moved out of the shadows and into the kitchen.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help but overhear that last bit,” he said sheepishly. Starsky turned around, his face reddened in anger, and Hutch put a hand on his shoulder. “Starsk, I don’t want you to cut ties with your brother because of me.”

Starsky’s look turned incredulous. “What are you, kidding me? Hutch, this isn’t ‘cause of you! You didn’t do anything wrong!”

Leaning against the counter, Hutch looked down at his hands. “Well, I didn’t do anything right, either. I didn’t have to egg Nick on like I did when I was over there. I did everything but call him a little weenie.”

The edges of Starsky’s mouth quirked. “That’s okay. He is a little weenie. In fact, he’s a big weenie.” His face turned dark and he slammed his fist down on the kitchen table. “Dammit! Those motherfuckers coulda killed you!”

“It probably wouldn’t have gone that far,” Hutch soothed.

“You don’t know that.” Starsky turned away, his shoulders rigid as he stared out at the woods that surrounded the back of their new home.  “And I can’t forgive him for it, Hutch. I won’t.”

Hutch stepped forward and placed his arms around Starsky’s waist, pulling him close. His chin resting on his partner’s shoulder, he gazed outside. After a moment, he planted a kiss on Starsky’s neck and said, “You gonna help me build some bat houses?” He nuzzled the dark curls with his nose, and tension drained from Starsky’s body like air from a balloon. He rubbed his hands over the arms encircling him.

“This your way of changin’ the subject?”

Hutch laughed. “Nothing gets past you, partner.” He slapped Starsky on the butt. “Come on—we’ll get these bat houses together and then we can put them up in the trees.”

Starsky obligingly followed his partner out the back door to where Hutch had his tools and wood set up on a work table.

As soon as Hutch had recovered from the beating he’d received, Starsky had taken him to see their new house---a Valentine’s gift that he’d intended to be a surprise. Hutch immediately fell in love with the attractive A-frame nestled in the woods. As Starsky watched his partner puttering about the place, enjoying the solitude of the woods, his heart expanded with joy. He had to admit, he enjoyed being away from the city. Most evenings he and Hutch sprayed themselves down with mosquito repellent and took chairs and beer down to the pond to sit and watch the sun set. They sat so still and so quiet that they often witnessed turtles ducking out of camouflage and into the water, and various small animals emerging for an evening drink. Hutch wanted to attract bats because they were mosquito-eaters, and he found them fascinating to watch, and Starsky was more than willing to help him, particularly since it afforded him the opportunity to hammer out his anger at his brother.

After an hour of diligent work, two relatively decent-looking bat houses were ready to hang. “We need to put them near the pond, where all the mosquitoes are,” Hutch told Starsky as they walked toward the water. “About twelve feet up. And they need six to eight hours a day of sunlight.”

“Maybe you could nail one on that pine tree,” Starsky pointed to a Knobcone that stood off from the others. Hutch squinted up into the sun.

“Yeah, that’d work. And we can see it from where we usually sit. We can put the other one closer to the house.” He looked around. “Now we’ve just got to get up there. How tall’s our ladder?”

“The extension ladder’s sixteen feet, I think,” Starsky said, eyeing the tree. “You really gonna climb that high?”

“Sure,” Hutch shrugged, starting toward the garage. “I’ll go get the ladder.”

The sound of a car coming up the driveway stopped Hutch in his tracks, and he and Starsky turned to see who it was.

“Hey!” Starsky said with a grin. “It’s Kiko!”

The black Volkswagen with its loud motor came to a halt in the driveway a few feet away from where they were standing, and the tall, dark-headed boy stepped out.

“Hey, Kiko!” Hutch greeted him. They hugged affectionately. Kiko turned to Starsky and hugged him as well.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen ya, buddy! What’ve you been up to?”

Kiko shrugged shyly. “I’ve really been struggling at school. I have a lot of honors classes this year.”

“That’s great, Keek!” Hutch put his arm around the boy’s shoulders and squeezed. “We’re so proud of you. Why don’t you come on in and have a soda.”

“So where’d you get the car?” Starsky asked when they were seated with their drinks in the living room.

“I bought it. I’ve been saving for a long time from my part-time job, birthday money and stuff.” Kiko took a sip of root beer and looked around the room.

“It’s terrific. Lot’s better than Hutch’s old cars,” Starsky said.

“Not better than his new one, though,” Kiko pointed out. “How’d you get him to buy it?”

Hutch held up a hand. “Why’re you guys talking about me like I’m not here? Starsky didn’t get me to buy it. I wanted it. Got a little tired of having cars that broke down on me, plus I came into a little money. Hey, how’s Molly doing?”

“She’s not working as hard as I am,” Kiko said. “She’s all into her friends.”

“Is she doing anything she shouldn’t be doin’?” Starsky asked, leaning forward. He’d always felt a special kinship with the street-wise girl.

Kiko shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked up shyly. “She’s been smoking.”

“Cigarettes?” Hutch asked. Kiko shrugged again.

“Look, Keek, I know you don’t wanna rat on your sister, but if she’s doin’ anything she shouldn’t be doin’, you need to tell your mom, ‘k?” Starsky told him.

Kiko nodded. “Look,” he eagerly changed the subject, “I came to see you guys because I miss you and all, but I also need your help with an assignment for school.”

“Oh, really?” Hutch leaned back and crossed his legs. “What can we do to help you?”

Kiko pulled his backpack from where he’d stashed it beside the couch. “It’s for sociology. We’re supposed to interview somebody who…well…”

Starsky raised his brows. “Who…what?”

Kiko shook his head, putting his backpack on the floor. “Nevermind. This was a mistake. Let’s talk about something else.”

Hutch rose from the chair and put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Kiko, just tell us.”

“Yeah, spit it out,” Starsky tugged at his arm until he sat back down on the couch.

“What I was going to say would sound really bad, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” Kiko admitted, a pained expression on his face.

Starsky and Hutch shared a look.

“Hey, buddy,” Hutch said, retaking his seat and leaning forward. “You can’t hurt our feelings. Two tough ex-street cops like us?” He laughed. “Come on now, spill.”

Kiko swallowed. “Okay, but just know this is their terminology, not mine. The interview is supposed to be with someone who…deviates from the norm.”

Hutch raised his brows. “Okay, and how do we do that?”

“Is it ‘cause we ain’t workin’?” Starsky asked, shifting in his chair and sipping his drink. “Most people our age can’t afford to take all this time off and just mess around.”

“No,” Kiko shook his head. “I really tried to think of someone else, but I couldn’t. And the assignment’s due Monday.”

“Hey, we’re all about helping you, Keek, but you’ve gotta tell us what it is you want to know,” Hutch said softly.

Kiko swallowed and met his eyes. “It’s your relationship…” he pointed his finger at Hutch and then at Starsky. “You’re…gay. That’s considered a deviation, according to the book.” Kiko sat back, embarrassed.

Starsky looked at Hutch and took a deep breath. He could see that his partner was flummoxed. His face was already red, and Starsky could tell he was working up a good stutter. “Well, okay. So…how did you know about us?” he asked Kiko before Hutch had to say anything. “Is it ‘cause we moved in here together?”

Kiko smiled, relaxing a little. “No, I’ve known for years.”

Hutch’s head fell back on the chair, his hands going to his face.

“Years,” Starsky repeated.

“Sure. First time I remember thinking about it was when I realized you took all your vacations together. Then I really started noticing how you two were with each other, so I asked my mom about it.”

Starsky cleared his throat. “And what did she say?”

Kiko looked openly from one man to the other. “She told me that you two loved each other and that the term was ‘gay’, but I was never to use it in front of you. Whoops.” Kiko suddenly realized he’d done just that. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Kiko,” Starsky said, glancing at his partner, who was trying to regain some semblance of poise. “Hutch and me…we don’t consider ourselves to really be gay, although I guess we are. We’ve never been in other relationships with guys.”

“Oh. Well, do you mind being interviewed?” Kiko asked, running a hand through his thick ebony hair.

“Did you ask your mother if she minded if you interviewed us?” Hutch suddenly found his voice.

“Yeah, and she doesn’t mind. If you don’t.” Kiko got his notebook and pen out of his backpack. “There aren’t that many questions.”

Starsky smiled gently. “Okay, then, shoot.”

“Let’s see…number one.” Kiko looked up at Starsky. “How long have you been together?”

“Does that mean in a …gay relationship?” Starsky clarified, more uncomfortable than he thought he’d be openly admitting it.

“I think so,” Kiko answered, pen poised above paper.

“Well, then it’s only been a few months.”

Kiko frowned. “Huh?”

“Hutch and me have only been in a …romantic…relationship for a few months. What you and your mom thought before was wrong,” Starsky answered.

Kiko turned and looked at Hutch, who had straightened in his chair. “That’s right, Keek. Starsky and I have been very close friends for many years, but we’ve only become…closer…since Christmas. That’s one of the reasons we got this house together.”

“Oh,” Kiko said, taking it in. He shrugged. “Okay.” He wrote it down. “Number two…”

When the interview was finally over and Kiko had to leave, Starsky and Hutch stood on the porch watching him drive away.

“Oh my god, I’m glad that’s over with,” Hutch said. “Every time he got ready to ask a question, I was so afraid to hear what it was.”

Starsky chuckled, putting a hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “Me, too. I kept thinking he’d ask something about sex. But I guess no sixteen-year-old’s project is gonna be that personal.”

“I guess Maria probably read it first, too, before she gave her okay,” Hutch replied. “Shit, Starsky, there’s another two people who thought we’ve been in each other’s pants for years!”

“Hey,” Starsky said soothingly, “does it really bother you that much? I mean, we’ve taken our share of teasing at work over the years.”

“But these people are our friends and family! I can’t believe no one spoke up about it before now!” Hutch turned around and pointed a finger agitatedly. “And why is that, Starsk? Why are people bringing this out in the open all of a sudden? It’s not like we’ve taken out a full-page ad in the Bay City Times! Why is it that, after years of not speaking of it, they’re all mentioning it now?”

Starsky leaned against the door jamb and thought about that. “I dunno. Maybe because now that it’s really true, we somehow communicate to them that it’s okay to say something?” He shrugged easily, and Hutch sighed. He moved closer to his partner.

“I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of us,” Hutch said, his face earnest. “I love you, Starsk, and I don’t care if the whole world knows it.”

“Hey, I know,” Starsky said, placing his hand on Hutch’s cheek and feeling a bit guilty for his earlier feelings along those lines. Leaning in, he kissed him gently on the lips. “It is a big shock to hear pretty much everybody we know say they’ve known about us for years!” He grinned.

“Hey, that reminds me…what do you think of having a little get-together here now that we’re settled in? A house-warming party,” Hutch suggested. “It might be a good way to get everyone used to this at once. Or maybe to get us used to it,” he amended with a soft smile. “Everyone else seems to already know.”

“I think that sounds like a good idea, and a lotta fun!” Starsky enthused. “We can invite all our friends and show off our new place. I guess we should invite our moms. Who else?” They walked into the house, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists.

“Let’s invite Scott and Joey, and Benny and whoever his latest boyfriend is,” Hutch said. “And Huggy and a date, and Dobey and Edith…”

“And Minnie and Joan Meredith…” Starsky added. “I’d better get a pen and make a list.”

“Maria and her boyfriend, Kiko and Molly,” Hutch added while his partner scrounged around in a drawer for some paper. Soon they had a list of nearly twenty people. “Oh, and if we have it in two weeks, Caro will be in town.”

“Will Stan and the kids be with her?” Starsky asked, perching on the edge of the living room chair.

“No. She’s coming alone to visit Mom. So add her to the list. We might as well have it that Saturday night.”

“You wanna just invite everyone ourselves, or send out real invitations?” Starsky asked, scribbling Hutch’s sister’s name on the pad.

Hutch thought about it. “Let’s do it right and send out the invitations. Put RSVP on them, so we know how many to expect. We can grill out back and get a lot of beer and soda. How does that sound?”

“Sounds terrific. I’m in charge of the music, though.”

“Fine with me, just don’t blast anything obnoxious.” Hutch said over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen. The phone rang as he was passing it, and he picked it up.

“Hello,” he propped the phone on his shoulder and crossed to the sink.

“Hutch, this is Joanne.”

“Hi, Joanne. How are you?”

“I’m doing fine, but there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Me?” Hutch was surprised. “Okay, what is it?” He began rinsing the dirty dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher.

“I just got off the phone with Nicky, and he tells me that you are blaming him for being attacked that night on our street.”

Hutch’s eyes widened, but he kept his voice level. “I haven’t spoken with him, Joanne, but Starsky has.”

“He said that David got the idea from you. Hutch, how could you think that Nicky would have anything to do with that deviant attacking you and Scott with a baseball bat?”

Hutch cringed at the use of the word ‘deviant’. Hadn’t Kiko just labeled him and Starsky as such?

“Joanne, I can honestly say that I never told David that I thought Nick was behind what happened. Starsky put that together himself. Maybe you should talk to him.”

“I intend to. Will you put him on the phone, please?”

Hutch put the receiver down on the counter, turned off the water, and went to get his partner. “Careful, buddy, your mom’s on a rampage.”

“What about?”

“Baby brother’s been giving her an earful.”

Starsky rolled his eyes and stood up. “Shit. That didn’t take him long.” He crossed to the kitchen and Hutch went outside. When Starsky joined him a while later, he looked subdued. At Hutch’s questioning eyebrow, he said, “He’s convinced her that I’m telling tales on him. She just can’t believe that her darling baby would put that idea into the creep’s head, much less pay him to do it.”

“Nick never admitted to doing that, did he?”

“Hell, he hasn’t admitted to anything, but I guarantee he gave those assholes money to beat the crap outta you. Scott just got in the way.”

“Let’s just forget about it, Starsk. We’d never be able to prove it, and even if we did—what would that do to your family?”

“You’re my family,” Starsky said with feeling. He pulled Hutch into a powerful kiss that left the blond blinking confusedly.

“I forgot what we were talking about,” he said, his breath tickling Starsky’s nose.

“We were talking about goin’ to bed,” Starsky said, kissing his neck.

“It’s not dark yet,” Hutch observed.

Starsky wrapped his hand in Hutch’s and tugged him toward the house. “Come on. We’ll put up the bat caves tomorrow.”

“Bat houses, Starsk.”

“Whatever.”

***

“So which one of my lovelies do you want me to bring to your part-ay?” Huggy asked his friends over a beer at The Pits.

“Not the one who looks like Jimmy Carter in drag,” Starsky said, just barely avoiding the subsequent slap with the bar rag. Hutch laughed into his beer.

“You are just jealous that I have a variety to choose from while you are stuck at home with the old ball and chain,” Huggy replied archly.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve seen what he can do with his balls and chain,” Starsky returned, and Hutch choked, spitting his mouthful of beer on the table.

“Starsky!”

Huggy broke up laughing, using his bar rag to clean up the mess. “Man, the two of you are something else.” He stood up. “Maybe I’ll just come to the party stag and see who shows up to light my fire. Be sure to invite some single ladies.”

Starsky rolled his eyes, his hand moving under the table to rest on Hutch’s leg. He couldn’t get his mind off that morning when Hutch had made him scream his name so hard, he’d had a headache for an hour afterward. Sometimes he just couldn’t believe their good fortune, finding this aspect of their relationship as they had. He had never been happier in his life.

“I’m really lookin’ forward to this party,” he told Hutch when Huggy disappeared to wait on some customers. “You and me in our own home, surrounded by all our friends.”

Hutch smiled around his mouthful of burger. “You look like a blushing bride, Starsk,” he said happily, and Starsky couldn’t help but turn red.

“Man, I wanna kiss you so bad, I can’t stand it,” Starsky growled close to his ear. “It’s not fair that just because we’re men, I can’t.”

Hutch nodded. “I agree wholeheartedly. As soon as we get home, you can kiss me all you want. I promise.” He licked mustard off his fingers without breaking eye contact with his lover.

Starsky felt himself heating up just thinking about it. “Hey,” he said after a moment of listing baseball scores in his head, “we gotta start thinking about earning a little money pretty soon, don’t you think?”

Hutch shrugged and wiped his mouth on a napkin. Starsky had finished his food long ago and reached for one of Hutch’s steak fries, dipping it liberally in ketchup before popping it in his mouth.

“I don’t think we’re in too big of a hurry, but if you have some ideas, I want to hear them,” Hutch replied.

“Right now I’d be pretty content to spend every day at home with you, but I think that’ll get old at some point. Although maybe we can think of something we can do from the house…like breed dogs or something.”

Hutch made a face. “Breed dogs?” He shook his head. “Starsk, I don’t wanna do that. We’d have to build a kennel, and what do we know about breeding dogs?”

“Well, what do we know about, then? Being cops, obviously. What else? I know a little about cars.”

“Well, what do you like to do?”

“Read. Take pictures. Fuck my partner.”

“I don’t know about the first and last one, but you might be able to earn a living taking pictures,” Hutch replied.

“Aw, come on. How’m I gonna do that? I’m not that good.”

“Then practice. Let’s go by the book store and pick up some books on photography.” He put a couple of bills on the table and stood up. “Come on.”

Starsky had to admit, the thought intrigued him. He followed his partner out to the car.

***

Three hours later, they were at home eating pizza with books spread all over the floor of the living room.

“Who knew I’d ever buy a book on gay sex,” Hutch commented, turning a page and taking a bite of pizza. “Hey, Starsk…think we could do this?” He held the book up so his partner could see the illustration.

“Not without help,” Starsky said, squinting at it. “You sure you don’t have the book upside down?”

Hutch laughed, settling back down on the carpet. “Which do you prefer, topping or bottoming?” he asked after reading some more.

“I don’t know. I like ‘em both the same.”

Hutch gave him a look. “No, you don’t. You don’t have to lie. You’d rather top, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, hell, Hutch! That’s what our bodies are meant to do, isn’t it?”

“Only if you consider homosexuality an aberration rather than something the world refuses to see as perfectly fine.”

“So you’re sayin’ you don’t prefer to top?” Starsky challenged.

Hutch leaned his head back on the floor and thought about it. “I don’t know. I like both, but sometimes I do think I enjoy bottoming more.”

Starsky’s mouth fell open. He abandoned his book and crawled over to sit near where his partner lay on the floor. “Really? Are you tellin’ me the truth?”

Hutch turned his head and looked him in the eyes. “Of course. Why would I lie?”

“I dunno,” Starsky shrugged, “to make me feel better when you let me top?”

Hutch laughed. “Sorry, but I’m not that nice of a guy.” He sobered, reaching out to draw a finger down Starsky’s arm, eliciting a shiver. “I just like the way it feels when you climb on top of me,” he said softly. “I like the way you cocoon me with your body and run your hands all over me, then take my cock in your hand and work it so nice and slow. How I can feel your chest and leg hair brushing against my skin…then how you push into me so forcefully, filling me up inside. And how, after loving me so slow and long, you finally lose control, and start pounding into me, and how you bury your face in my neck when you come.” His eyes met Starsky’s, so deep and blue and sincere that Starsky’s heart melted at the same time as his cock rose in the confines of his jeans.

“Shit.” Starsky just sat and looked at the beautiful blond man lying in front of him, his navy blue shirt unbuttoned and open, revealing his smooth chest and flat stomach above the waist band of his faded jeans.

“And how just after you come…” Hutch continued, “you make those little squeaking noises like a hamster…” He watched the words sink in and a big grin spread across his face at Starsky’s look of righteous indignation.

“I do NOT squeak like a hamster!” Starsky objected.

Hutch nodded. “Yeah, you do. Just like a hamster. Right after you come. Squeak, squeak, squeak. It’s so cute.”

Starsky pounced on Hutch, sending the breath out of him with an ooph. “Take it back!” he told him, pinning his arms to the floor.

“Okay, okay, you don’t squeak like a hamster,” Hutch laughed, and Starsky let up. “A gerbil, maybe…or a guinea pig! Yeah, just like Louise!”

“There’s only one way to shut you up!” Starsky announced, his face inches away before he swooped down and covered Hutch’s mouth with his own, his tongue delving deep. He released Hutch’s arms, using his hands to cup his partner’s face instead, while Hutch brought his own arms up to encircle him. They kissed for a long time, moaning into each other’s mouths. Hutch brought his hands lower, cupping Starsky’s ass and pushing him harder against himself.

“Oh, Hutch…” Starsky broke free, his eyes closed and his face a study of pure pleasure. Hutch’s lips moved momentarily to his lover’s neck before returning to his mouth.

The sound of a car door closing brought both their heads up.

“Who the hell can that be?” Starsky demanded hoarsely. Cursing, Hutch rolled out from under his partner, stood up and pulled aside the drapes.

“It’s your mom,” he informed him.

“Aw, crap,” Starsky got up from the floor. Hutch picked up his books and headed for the stairs. “Where’re you goin’?”

“I don’t want to get in the way,” Hutch replied, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Coward,” Starsky called after him, and with a sigh, turned to open the front door before his mother could ring the bell.

“Hey, Ma,” he greeted her as she walked in, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

“Hello, David. “ Joanne looked around the living room. “Where’s Hutch?”

“He’s upstairs. Come sit down.” Starsky sat on the sofa and patted the cushion beside him. Joanne took a seat, rather stiffly, Starsky thought.

“David, I had another conversation with Nick,” Joanne got right to the point. “He said you won’t take his calls.”

Starsky sighed. “This again, Ma? I don’t have anything to say to Nicky.”

“David, he says he didn’t have anything to do with the attack on Hutch. Why can’t you believe him?”

“Because he’s a lyin’ little rat fink,” Starsky replied evenly.

Joanne sighed. “I know your brother has gotten into some trouble in the past, but that’s a far cry from what you’re accusing him of. I mean, to pay those horrible men to come after Hutch and Scott with a baseball bat…”

“Ma, Nick hates Hutch. Always has. I don’t know if he’s jealous, or what. And now that we’re lovers, he blames Hutch – saying he made me a fairy. Hutch had words with him over at your place, and Nicky was boiling mad. He’d made friends with that punk across the street…how can I not think he had something to do with it?”

Joanne’s mouth became a thin line. “Nicky wouldn’t pay someone to hurt the man you love. Period. I want you to make up with him. Invite him and Heather to your party.”

“Ma, Nick lives all the way across the country!”

“Just do it as an olive branch,” Joanne said. “They won’t come; they were just here.”

Starsky pressed his lips together. “Uh, uh. I ain’t doin’ it.”

Joanne narrowed her eyes. “Oh, yes, you are!”

Starsky shook his head. “No. He went too far. Hutch coulda been killed, don’t you get it, Ma?” His eyes pleaded with her to understand.

Her face softened. “If I thought Nicky had anything to do with it, I wouldn’t blame you, David, but he didn’t. He’s miserable because you won’t talk to him.” She put a hand on Starsky’s leg. “He’s your brother, David. He loves you. Can you really say that you haven’t a doubt that he asked those men to hurt Hutch?”

Starsky considered. His instincts shouted that Nick was guilty as hell, but of course he couldn’t be positive.

“Just think about it, David. That’s all I ask.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Now, I have to go. I’ll see you at your party next weekend, if not before.” She rose and went out the door.

Starsky joined Hutch in the bedroom where he was toweling off from a shower. He threw himself down on their king sized bed. “She wants me to consider the possibility that Nick didn’t have anything to do with what happened to you,” he said, staring out the skylight in the ceiling.

Hutch threw the towel in the hamper and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I guess it’s possible.”

Starsky’s eyes cut his way. “But not probable.”

“Starsk, can't we just forget about this? We can’t prove he had anything to do with it, and I don’t want it putting a wedge between you and your family.”

Starsky reached over and patted Hutch’s arm. “You’re too good, Hutch,” he said, smiling at him before scowling again. “I tell ya, it really irks me, though, to be nice to that little shit if he really did sic those assholes on you. And why is it, after years of hardly hearing from him, he suddenly can’t stand it that I’m not speaking to him? ” He sat up. “Oh, and she wants me to invite him to the party! Not that he’ll come all this way so soon after his last visit, but she wants it to be a fig leaf or something.”

“Olive branch,” Hutch chuckled, leaning over and kissing Starsky behind the ear, whispering huskily, “a fig leaf is what I need right now.” Starsky turned and captured his lips with his own.

“Mmm, naw, I like you just like ya are.” His hand found what it was looking for, educing a growl from deep in Hutch’s throat. They fell back on the mattress, kissing hungrily. Hutch grabbed hold of Starsky’s zipper, pulling it down and snaking a hand inside. Starsky gasped into his mouth, arching into the questing palm.  Wanting it fast and quick, he shimmied out of his jeans and pulled his partner on top of him, slipping his cock in between Hutch’s thighs and thrusting fast as his tongue claimed every corner of his lover’s mouth.

Hutch whimpered as Starsky’s palms claimed his ass cheeks, pulling him closer, causing his sensitive cock to slide over the coarse hairs on his belly.

“Oh…oh, God,” Hutch whispered hoarsely, as he released his fluids in a mind-numbing series of spurts. Feeling the warm liquid hit the skin beneath his ribs, Starsky thrust one more time against the soft skin of Hutch’s sack, and came hard, crying out his partner’s name before collapsing back, panting and letting out an occasional noise that sounded suspiciously like… “Shut up,” Starsky gasped, before Hutch could say anything. His partner chuckled. They curled up together, and as their bodies cooled, Hutch grabbed the side of the bedspread and yanked it over them. As Starsky’s breathing slowed, he lay watching the dying light outside make patterns on the ceiling.

“You really haven’t given any thought to what you wanna do now that you’re not a cop?” he asked after a moment.

Hutch turned to look at him, his golden hair damp with sweat. He thought for a moment before answering. “Back in college, before I had a mind to be a cop, I considered teaching. But Vanessa didn’t like that idea.”

Starsky turned to face him. “So maybe you could go back to school and get certified,” he said.

Hutch shook his head. “I thought about it, but I don’t want to do something that’s going to force us to hide our relationship, Starsk. I don’t want to always be worried that I might be fired.”

Starsky looked away. “Oh. I guess being a teacher and being…gay…is frowned upon. Might be a bad influence of society’s children.” The last part was said with disgust.

“Hey,” Hutch put a finger under Starsky’s chin and forced him to look at him. “It’s okay. There are a lot of things I’d enjoy doing. We just need to think about it.” He kissed him softly before settling on Starsky’s  pillow, their foreheads pressed together. They drifted off for an afternoon nap.

***

The following week was spent in preparation for the party. Both men were excited to be having their friends over to their new house. They weren’t worried about having to hide their relationship, because everyone they cared about seemed to not only know about them, but have the misconception that they’d been this way for years. Everyone they had invited was coming, with the exception of Kiko, Molly, and their mother, who were going to be out of town. Starsky called Nick, grudgingly made up with him, and invited him and Heather to fly back out for the get-together. Thankfully, he declined.

The day before the barbeque was scheduled, Hutch stood watering his plants that lined the long dining room window facing east. Starsky had spent the morning and early afternoon hosing off the deck and cleaning the outdoor grill. Freshly showered, he took his soda into the living room and sunk into the sofa, a car magazine on his lap. Seconds later, the phone rang, and he reached back over his head and picked it up. From his vantage point in the next room, Hutch could hear his partner having a conversation, but the individual words weren’t clear. As he finished watering and started picking the dead leaves off his African Violets, Starsky entered the room.

“Who was that?” Hutch asked, wiping the leaves and dirt from the window sill into his palm.

“Your sister. She’s on her way, and had a lay-over in Minneapolis—says her flight will be in at six tonight. She wants to know if she can stay with us instead of at our moms’ place, and I said sure.”

Hutch lifted a brow as he dusted his palms off over the trash can. “Why doesn’t she want to stay with them?”

Starsky shrugged. “She says we’re more fun, which is true. She also said we have more room, which is also true. And if she stays here, she won’t hafta sleep on a couch. We’ve got the extra bed.”

“Makes sense,” Hutch conceded, but still felt there was more to it. Carolyn had planned to stay with their mother. Why the sudden change in plans? “I just thought she’d like to spend as much time with Mom as possible. Doesn’t make much difference to me, though. So you told her we’d be at the airport to pick her up?”

“Yep. Though, now that I think about it, it’d be better if I stay here and cook dinner while you go. We don’t want to feed her sandwiches.”

“I guess that’s a good idea. What do you want to make?”

“I was thinking spaghetti, salad, garlic bread.” Starsky’s stomach growled as he spoke.

Hutch chuckled, hearing it. He patted the flat belly on his way to the stairs. “Okay.  I’m going to take a quick shower, then. I want to get an early start in case there’s traffic.” He jogged up the stairs, leaving Starsky to rummage through the pantry and refrigerator.

When Hutch entered the bedroom fifteen minutes later, he found Starsky staring out the window at the woods. Hutch moved behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his nose in his partner’s neck. Starsky bent his head slightly at the tickling sensation of Hutch nipping under his jawline.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Hutch murmured.

“I was just looking at the woods and thinking about how nice it is out here—hardly any traffic noise, just the bugs singing us to sleep at night while we look up at the stars through the skylight.”

Hutch hugged him to him fiercely. “You sure outdid yourself finding this place, buddy. I love it; have I told you?”

Starsky smiled. “Only about a million times.”

“I still can’t believe you sold the Torino to make the down payment,” Hutch sighed, quickly adding, “But I’m so glad you did it. This place has everything I’ve ever wanted in a home.” He ran his hands over Starsky’s chest. “Do you really like it, Starsk?” he asked after several moments they both spent staring outside at the acres of woodland behind their house. “I mean, living in the woods was never your dream.”

Starsky turned around in his arms. “My dream is bein’ here with you,” he murmured huskily before taking Hutch’s mouth in a wet kiss. Hutch moaned low in his throat, a sound that never failed to get his partner’s motor running.

“Better stop…” Hutch gasped.

Rather than heed his warning, Starsky sank to his knees and pulled the towel away, running his hands over the backs of Hutch’s damp thighs and burying his face in his crotch, pulling the scent of him into his nostrils.

“God, Starsk…” Hutch whimpered, putting out his arms to steady himself against the window as his partner began to lick his tightening sack with long, cat-like strokes of his tongue. Sinking his long fingers in Starsky’s riot of curls, Hutch looked down to see the dark head moving over him. Hutch closed his eyes and felt the hot mouth take him in, throwing his head back and crying out, trying hard not to thrust as the singular sensation of a soft tongue sliding up his shaft sent shivers down his spine and legs. He heard Starsky moan and felt his lover’s hands move over his ass at the same time as a hungry mouth sucked on his needy cock. With a gasp, Hutch exploded, tightening his fingers in Starsky’s hair while his partner sucked him dry.

“Oh, shit, that was good,” he sighed, as Starsky withdrew and stood, wrapping him in his strong embrace, rocking him gently until he regained his ability to stand on his own.

“I think you’ve been practicing,” Hutch accused, kissing him on the tip of his nose. The corners of Starsky’s eyes crinkled as he grinned devilishly.

“Stopped the mailman yesterday for a session. It was a man jogging down the street the day before.”

“Lucky them,” Hutch said softly, cupping his lover’s head with his hand before kissing him thoroughly. “I don’t have time to reciprocate now, but tonight you’re getting it.”

“Oh, good. Maybe your sister’ll hear me yelling your name and give us hell in the morning,” Starsky teased. Carolyn Hutchinson had a penchant for ragging them over their loud love-making, since she’d been the unwilling witness to it on several occasions.

Hutch chuckled and stepped back, moving to the dresser for some underwear.  As he dressed, Starsky lay down on the bed and looked at the blue sky through the pane in the ceiling. After a moment, Hutch gave his leg a slap, announcing he was leaving. “We’d better not come back in a couple of hours, starving, to find you lying here asleep and no food on the table!” he chided.

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” Starsky assured him, accepting Hutch’s kiss and watching him walk out of the room, the taste of his love’s desire still pungent in his mouth. He never would have thought he’d take such pleasure in sucking a man off, but having Hutch’s long cock in his mouth was fast becoming one of his favorite past times. Just listening to his partner’s noises as he loved him sometimes got him off.

He did end up falling into a doze, but thankfully woke up with enough time to get dinner on the table moments before Hutch returned with Carolyn in tow.

“How was your flight?” Starsky asked her, kissing the blond woman on the cheek as he took her suitcase. Hutch hung up her jacket and returned to the foyer.

“You mean ‘flights’,” Carolyn corrected with a sigh. “I had to change planes twice. But all in all, it was pretty good.” She took a deep breath. “What smells so good?”

“That would be Spaghetti a’la Starsky,” He replied with a sweep of his arm. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Famished. I didn’t touch that crap on the plane.”

Hutch had preceded them into the kitchen and was pouring the wine when they entered. They all took a seat, as Carolyn looked about the spacious kitchen and dining area. “This place is great! I can’t wait for the tour.”

“You’ve seen most of it already just walking in, but there is an upstairs,” Hutch replied around a bite of garlic bread. The foyer being open to the living room, which led directly into the dining room and kitchen, Carolyn had indeed seen the entire downstairs other than the half bath down the hall. “We love it,” Hutch added.

“I don’t blame you. What about Mom’s place? Is it as nice as my friend promised?”

“Definitely,” Starsky replied, as Hutch’s mouth was full of spaghetti. “They are thrilled with it, and we are, too. The neighbors are all really nice, and it’s a safe area.”

Carolyn blinked and looked at him. Realizing his mistake, he said, “Well, now that the one guy isn’t there anymore, it’s safe.” He looked at Hutch.

Taking a sip of water, Hutch just shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about the attack by his mother’s neighbor that had left him with a broken wrist and fingers, along with bruised kidneys. Carolyn had heard all about it anyway.

When they’d finished their meal and cleaned up, and Carolyn had phoned their mother to let her know she was there safely, Hutch suggested they take their wine out onto the deck.

“Do you have anything stronger?” Carolyn asked. Hutch raised a brow, but didn’t comment on the request. He brought some scotch out and filled a tumbler, handing it to her.

Once ensconced on the deck chairs and staring out at a particularly spectacular sunset, the three settled into a comfortable silence. After a while, Hutch said softly, “You want to tell us what’s bothering you, Caro?”

Carolyn sighed. “How did you know?”

“Pretty obvious. You changed your plans about staying with Mom, and you’re not bossing me around half as much as usual. Plus, you aren’t much of a drinker.”

Carolyn smiled.

Starsky made to stand. “I think I’ll go on upstairs so you two can talk,” he stated. Carolyn put a hand out to still him.

“No, Dave. You’re family.”

He settled back into his chair.

“Stan and I are just having some problems, that’s all,” she admitted, staring out into the growing darkness.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hutch said, taking a sip of his wine. “Anything we can do for you?”

“Nope. I think he’s having an affair.”

Hutch stiffened. “What? That sonovva—“

“Ken, don’t you dare get all cave man on me. We’ll work it out.”

“Do you know this for sure, Carolyn?” Starsky asked. “Maybe you’re wrong.”

“I could be, but I don’t think I am. I think it’s his secretary, Stacia.”

“What are you going to do?” Hutch asked tightly.

“Confront him. When I get back.” She looked at her brother with eyes the same shape and color as his own. “I just didn’t think I could put a good front up for Mom and Joanne, you know? I don’t mind sharing the information with you guys, but I don’t want Mom to know in case Stan and I can work all this out. It will color the way she sees him from now on.” She watched her brother’s jaw twitch. “Oh, I know it will for you, too, but Mom is closer to Stan. It would really upset her.”

Hutch nodded once and remained quiet.

“So what time’s the big shindig tomorrow?” Carolyn changed the subject.

“People are coming around five,” Starsky answered, allowing Hutch time to regroup. “It’s not going to be that big of a thing, really. Just some friends and family.”

“Any of your family besides your mom?” Carolyn asked, her blue eyes quizzical. She had never met anyone else in Starsky’s family.

“Nick, my brother, was recently here, so he and his fiancée won’t be coming. And my aunt and uncle are out of town. So, no. I’m sure Mom’ll bring her boyfriend, though.”

Carolyn smiled. “Joanne’s got a boyfriend?” she asked delightedly.

“Unfortunately,” Starsky muttered, taking a long drink.

Hutch came to his rescue by changing the subject. “A few people we used to work with are coming, our friend Huggy—you’ve heard us talk about him before, a few other friends we’ve met recently. That’s about it.”

“I think it’s wonderful you’re having this get-together. Does everyone know about your relationship?”

“If they’re like everyone else so far, they’ve assumed it for a long time,” Hutch said wryly. “We know Dobey and Huggy have.”

Carolyn covered his hand with hers where it rested on the arm of the deck chair. “We could all see the love,” she said softly, and Hutch smiled.

A noise from the woods captured all of their attention.

“What was that?” Starsky asked, his voice uneasy. He’d never been comfortable with the woods, and it being dark only made it worse.

“Sounded like some kind of animal,” Hutch mused. The sound came again, and Starsky shivered.

“Maybe it’s one of those Sasquatches,” he murmured, and Hutch laughed outright while Carolyn covered her smile with her hand.

“Oh, come on, Starsk,” Hutch chided.

“I’m serious! People are always spotting ‘em in wooded areas like this!” When the noise sounded again, the three rose to their feet.

“I think it sounds like a wounded animal,” Carolyn said, putting her hand on her brother’s arm. “Ken, maybe you should go see.” She was a huge animal lover, and the anxiety was evident in her voice.

“I’ll get some flashlights,” Hutch said, heading inside.

Starsky continued looking into the dense woods, not liking the idea of venturing there, but liking less the idea of his partner going alone.

When Hutch returned with the flashlights, they flipped them on and headed down the steps and across the lawn to the tree line. Once inside the wooded area, Hutch stopped to listen, and Starsky ran full-force into his back.

“Omf!” Hutch turned around and looked irritably at his friend. “Starsky, could you leave a few feet between us, please? For Pete’s sake, nothing’s going to jump out and eat you!”

Sheepishly, Starsky stepped back. When the noise came again, Hutch headed in that direction, his partner close behind.

“It sounds like a dog,” Hutch whispered when they got closer to the source. Another whimpery yelp and they found what they were looking for. A medium-sized mutt was tangled in a thorn bush.

“Aw, poor thing!” Starsky was immediately sympathetic. “How the hell we gonna get it outta there?”

Hutch shrugged off the button-down shirt he wore over his T-shirt. “Maybe wrapping this around my hands, I can pull back the thorn bush enough for you to coax it out.” Hutch tentatively reached for the barbed branches with cloth-covered hands and moved them to the side, wincing a little as the thorns poked through and jabbed at his skin.

“Come ‘ere, puppy!” Starsky called, patting his thighs with his palms. “Come ‘ere, we aren’t gonna hurt ya!”

The dog wasn’t shy, and bounded eagerly through the opening and into Starsky’s arms. “There, now, what a good dog!” He patted him enthusiastically while Hutch let go of the offending bush.

The young dog followed them happily out of the woods and up the steps to the deck, where Carolyn lavished it with attention.

“Looks like a girl,” she said. “A boxer mixed with—lab, maybe?” she looked at the men.

“Hard to say,” Hutch replied, patting its head. It had the coloring and most of the features of a boxer, but the snout was longer and it lacked some of the muscular build. “She certainly is friendly, though. No collar,” he observed.

“She’s got a few ticks,” Starsky put in, running his hands over her coat.

“Do you have any tweezers, Ken?” his sister asked. Hutch went into the house to fetch them, along with some alcohol and cotton balls.

The trio spent the next half-hour pulling blood-engorged ticks off of the complacent dog.

“Yuck, these things are ugly,” Starsky commented, dropping another into the ashtray where Hutch was setting them on fire.

“Remember Grandma saying ‘fat as a tick’, Caro?” Hutch asked with a grin.

“Yeah,” his sister smiled and nodded. “I think that’s the last of them. The poor thing has some fleas. Maybe we should give her a bath.”

“I’ll leave that to the two of you,” Hutch replied, standing and putting his hands on his back.

“Hurtin’, babe?” Starsky inquired sympathetically. His partner had always had a bit of trouble with his back, but it had been worse since the attack.

“Some,” Hutch admitted, but Starsky could see the pain etched around his eyes.

“Take some aspirin. Caro and I’ll take care of the little lady.”

“Hey, that’d be a good name for her!” Carolyn said.

“Now wait a minute,” Hutch interrupted. “Who said we were going to keep her?”

“Well, aren’t we?” Starsky asked, his expression guileless. Hutch just rolled his eyes and went inside, knowing he was outnumbered, and he wouldn’t be able to turn his partner down anyway.

Starsky grinned. “I have him wrapped around my little finger,” he told Carolyn and Lady.

***

Later that night, with Carolyn asleep in the guest room and a freshly washed and de-fleaed Lady at their feet, Starsky and Hutch lay in bed staring up at the stars in the black sky. Hutch had already made his partner see stars behind his eyes by using his mouth and hands, and the brunet was a boneless bundle in his arms. Hutch kissed the top of his curly head.

“Happy? he asked softly.

“More than I’ve ever been in my life,” Starsky replied truthfully. “You?”

“Same.” Hutch pulled him closer. After a moment he said, “I hate this about Caro and Stan.”

“Me, too. Maybe they’ll work it out, though. Every marriage has some bumps in the road.”

Hutch ran his fingers through Starsky’s hair. “Wonder if ours will,” he mused.

“It already has,” Starsky returned. “Whether it was legal or not or we knew it or not, we been married for years, Hutch.”

Hutch chuckled in the darkness. “How right you are.”

A chorus of night bugs lulled them to sleep.

***

The following morning and afternoon were a whirlwind of activity. Joanne and Barbara came over to lend a hand, and the first thing Joanne did was to get her son alone and ask him if he’d made things right with his little brother. He assured her that he had, grumbling as he returned to the kitchen to help Hutch assemble the potato salad.

“Mom’s already on me about Nick,” he said in a low voice.

“Did you tell her you called him?” Hutch asked. Starsky nodded. Hutch knew that the conversation his partner had had with his brother had been a difficult one.

“Why’s Lady whimpering?” Starsky asked after a moment, looking around for the dog.

“Mom closed her in the guest room for now. She was trying to eat the hot dogs ready for the grill. Stupid dog.”

Starsky hid a smile. When he’d awakened that morning, it had been to find his partner snuggled up to Lady rather than to him. Hutch had been chagrined, muttering, “Well, she smelled like you,” which had made Starsky laugh outright, although he decided right then and there to get Lady her own bed for the floor, or perhaps a dog house for outside. He didn’t want to share Hutch, even with the dog.

He shook his head, wondering how his life could possibly get any better. He’d always pictured himself in this sort of domestic situation, only he’d imagined he’d be married to a woman rather than a man. The thought made him smile, especially when he realized that Hutch had always been a part of that dream, too. He didn’t know how he’d thought he’d have a family and have his partner living there with him, but he’d always seen it that way.

Guests began arriving shortly before five o’clock, Huggy Bear being the first, and Minnie and Joan Meredith following shortly behind, having driven together.

Hutch and Starsky hugged the two ladies enthusiastically. It had been quite a while since they’d seen them—well before Christmas. Joan’s embrace was particularly warm and lingering with Starsky.

Joan was more of Starsky’s friend than Hutch’s, as she had partnered with him briefly while Hutch recuperated from a gunshot wound to the shoulder. But as it had been with many of the attractive women Starsky came into close contact with, they’d ended up in bed together. Neither had had the inclination to make something more serious out of it, and had formed an easy friendship since. Starsky had only spoken with her once since his return from Duluth and New York, and that had been extremely brief, although she’d proposed they have lunch soon. He was happy that she could make it to their party, and took her light jacket and purse, along with Minnie’s, upstairs to stash in the guest room, where Carolyn had thoughtfully made room by placing her things in the closet for the time being. As he carefully opened the door so as not to let Lady out, Joan came up behind him, startling him into releasing the door knob. With a happy bark, Lady sped past and down the stairs.

“What in the world was that?” Joan asked, hand on heart.

“That was the dog,” Starsky said, bemused. “Oh, well. We’ll get her back in here. Or maybe she’ll behave and stop tryin’ to eat all our food.” He continued into the bedroom, placing the purses and jackets on the bed. Joan looked around, her bright, lively eyes taking in everything. “This house is lovely. Is this your room?”

Starsky paused, not sure how to answer. Finally, he went with the truth. “Naw. This is the guest room. Hutch’s sister is sleeping in here, in fact.”

“Oh. Wow, a three bedroom?”

Starsky shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

Joan blinked, her dark eyes clouding, her one-hundred-watt-smile dimming. “Are you---you mean, you and Hutch---you aren’t just sharing expenses here, are you?”

Starsky shook his head again, slowly.

“Dave,” Joan stepped forward, putting a delicate hand on his chest. “I know you and Hutch are close, but you are not gay.”

“I think the term, if I chose to use one, would be bi-sexual,” Starsky answered, looking down at her, his blue eyes hooded. “We are in a homosexual relationship, yes.”

Joan’s hand moved upward, leaving the material of the blue cotton shirt and touching the tanned skin at the V, stroking the fine, dark hairs growing there. “Somehow I have trouble believing that.” Her lips came within an inch of his, but Starsky didn’t move.

“Believe it,” came a hard voice from the doorway where Hutch stood, a wiggling, panting Lady in his arms.

Joan stepped away, not so stupid as to ignore the warning in that tone. However, she was no coward. “I think the two of you are under some kind of delusion here. I’ve seen you both with more women than I can count.”

“What in the hell does that have to do with anything?” Hutch asked, angrier than Starsky had seen him in a long time. Hutch kicked the door shut and put the dog down on the floor, where she slinked into the closet and settled on a blanket, smart enough to heed the tone in her master’s voice.

Joan squared her shoulders. “I know you two love each other, but you’ve always had healthy relationships with women.” She glanced at Starsky, her eyes sweeping over him, purposely evoking memories of a couple of hot nights between them. “My point is, both of you have been through a hell of a lot in the past year. Isn’t it possible that it’s colored your thinking a little bit? Starsky’s almost killed, and on the heels of that, you lose your father, Hutch, and suddenly the two of you are shacking up together?” Her voice gentled. “I’m sure you two have needed one another a lot, and it doesn’t take much to imagine how you could turn to each other like that. But that doesn’t mean you have to practically marry each other!”

Starsky listened and watched, his lids lowered and face impassive. Hutch’s jaw worked tensely, and Starsky saw the moment when his partner’s demeanor changed and uncertainty and concern for him took over the anger. Immediately, Starsky held his hand out, his eyes meeting Hutch’s.

Hesitantly, Hutch stepped forward, taking his hand.

“This is the only time we’re going to do this, Joan,” Starsky said with quiet intensity. “Hutch and me aren’t in the habit of rationalizing our feelings for one another to other people, but seeing as you’re a friend who’s been there for us in the past, we’ll overlook it this once and then move on.” He looked at his partner, love shining in his eyes. “I’m not gonna try to explain to you the feelings I have for his man, because I don’t think you’d understand. I don’t think anybody could. But I want you to believe that my love for him is true, and that I don’t have any reservations about what we’re doin’ together.” Hutch’s eyes, caught in his gaze, softened, and Starsky saw him struggling with his emotions. Pulling him closer by their clasped hands, Starsky laid a hand aside Hutch’s face and pulled him forward, lovingly covering his mouth with his own. And because he didn’t want any doubt left in Joan’s mind, he wrapped his arms around Hutch and opened his lips, pushing his tongue into his partner’s mouth in a kiss just as passionate as any he had ever given her or any other woman. Maybe more so, in that he’d never loved a woman like he did his partner. Hutch returned the kiss ten-fold. As so often happened when their lips met, time seemed to stop, and they entered their own world where taste and sensation were all there was.

The loud click of the door shutting brought them out of their embrace. The room was empty except for the two of them.

“Guess she understands,” Hutch said quietly, bringing his fingers up to touch his swollen lips.

“Guess she does,” Starsky answered, and kissed him again.

***

Downstairs, Starsky discovered that Joan had asked Minnie to drive her home. “I think she was sick all of a sudden,” Dobey informed them from his place on the couch next to Edith. “She looked it.”

“Did Minnie say she’s coming back?” Starsky asked Dobey.

“Yeah,” the older man grunted, and took a drink from his beer bottle.

“We’d better get the burgers and hot dogs on,” Hutch replied in a voice that said he wanted to move on from the unpleasant experience.

“Right you are; I’m starved!” With a clap of his hands, Starsky headed for the kitchen where Joanne had just finished assembling all the meat on a platter. Starsky took it out to the deck, where Hutch had already fired up the grill.

“I take it Joan didn’t approve of your situation,” Dobey said to Hutch after Edith had excused herself to go help in the kitchen.

“You’re right about that,” Hutch said dryly. Dobey stood and put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s going to happen, unfortunately, son,” he said sympathetically.

To his horror, Hutch felt tears rise to his eyes for the second time in thirty minutes. He realized it had more to do with Dobey calling him ‘son’ so soon after his own father’s death than the fact he was empathizing with them. “Thanks,” he whispered, and moved to busy himself by picking up some empty beer bottles.

While Hutch and Starsky had been occupied upstairs, Scott Wethersby and his life partner, Joe Hilton, had arrived. They chatted amicably with Benny, the real estate agent who had helped Starsky find the house, and Benny’s man-of-the-week, a tanned blond surfer boy that Hutch had yet to meet. Starsky’s mother sat with Scott’s father, Bill, on the love seat, and Hutch noted that there was virtually no space between their bodies. His partner had been less than enthused when he’d found out that Joanne was involved in a sexual relationship at her age, although she wasn’t much more than sixty years old. After years spent away from home, he wasn’t used to thinking of her as anything other than his mother. Hutch couldn’t find anything wrong with the man, other than a rumor that he gambled.

After dumping the bottles, Hutch looked around for Huggy.

“Do you know where Huggy is?” he asked his mother as he helped her carrying various items to the dining room table.

“I haven’t seen him in a while,” she answered. “We’re going to be ready to eat in a few minutes. Why don’t you go find him, and your sister, too, while you’re at it.”

There weren’t many places in the house they could have gone, so after he’d checked around, Hutch headed outside.

The day was overcast, which a slight breeze blowing. He walked around the side of the house, hoping it wouldn’t start to rain. He and Starsky had set up the badmitton net in hopes they could get up a game after dinner. Not seeing Huggy or his sister anywhere in the back yard, Hutch turned and headed toward the pond.

What he found there stopped him in his tracks. He was so shocked, he rubbed his fists over his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. At the edge of the pond stood Huggy Bear and Carolyn Hutchinson-Dooley locked in a passionate embrace.

As so often happened when something rocked Hutch’s equilibrium, he found himself turning to gain the support of his partner. But Starsky wasn’t with him, and Hutch straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. Loudly.

Huggy and Carolyn broke apart as though a bomb had exploded between them. One second they’d been glued together, and the next there was five feet between them.

“Ken!” Carolyn sounded strangled.

“Caro, the food is ready. Head on back to the house,” Hutch said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With a glance at the man in front of her, Carolyn obeyed, head down, too embarrassed to make a fuss.

“Would you like to tell me what the hell is going on here?” Hutch hissed at his friend after his sister was out of ear shot.

Huggy had the decency to look abashed.

“So you’ve made my sister one of your conquests?” Hutch stepped forward menacingly, realizing somewhere in the back of his mind that these were most likely the first harsh words he and Huggy had exchanged since what had happened with Lionel Rigger, and that had been pretty one-sided.

Huggy put his hands up. “Hey, man, you know me better than that.”

“So how do you explain it?”

“I’ve been talking with her, and…I don’t know, Hutch, we felt an attraction!” Huggy’s face suddenly closed off. “It isn’t the fact that I’m black that’s got you all up in arms about me being with your sister, is it?”

Hutch’s jaw tightened. “I should think you’d know me better than that!”

“Well I don’t know what else I should be thinking!” Huggy’s voice rose.

Hutch took another step forward, his shoulders tense. “You should be thinking about what you were doing with your tongue down my sister’s throat!” he yelled.

Hurried footfalls on the grass behind him alerted Hutch to Starsky’s approach. Exactly how he knew it was Starsky, he couldn’t be sure.

“Hey now, let’s take this down a notch,” Starsky said soothingly as he skidded to a stop, his hand touching Hutch’s arm. “What’s going on here?” He looked from Hutch to Huggy and back to Hutch again. “Your sister sent me out here—she looked upset.”  Hutch and Huggy stood toe to toe, body language equally challenging.

“What’s going on is, I came out here to find Huggy all over my sister!” Hutch spit out.

When Starsky turned to Huggy in surprise, Huggy ground out, “Obviously I’m not good enough for his rich white bread family!”

Hutch growled and started forward, but Starsky held him back. “I think you know Hutch thinks the world of you, Hug,” Starsky said, tightening his hold. “But what’s got him riled is the fact that you were with his married sister!”

Huggy looked stunned. “Married? Carolyn is married?” he asked, incredulous.

“Didn’t the ring on her finger give you some indication, or did you not look at her long enough before jumping her bones!” Hutch shouted. Starsky quickly stepped between him and their friend.

“She didn’t have no ring on her finger!” Huggy yelled back. “Id-a noticed that, and I don’t appreciate your words, blondie!” Huggy poked one long, skinny finger at the broad, heaving chest in front of him before Starsky could block the move. With a growl, Hutch surged forward, causing both Starsky and Huggy to step backward, lose balance, and topple butt-first into the pond with a resounding splash. Starsky scrambled up first, extending a hand to help Huggy. Carolyn shouted from the direction of the house, and hurried toward them, out of breath as she reached the group. She clasped her brother’s arm.

“Ken, stop it! We weren’t doing anything I didn’t want to do!”

Hutch looked down at her hand on his arm and saw that his sister really wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. He couldn’t remember if she’d been wearing it when she’d arrived at their house the day before.

“What are you doing, Caro? Do you really want to throw your marriage away?”  Hutch struggled to control his anger.

Carolyn looked down. “I don’t know what I want. But please don’t blame Huggy. He didn’t know! And…I made the first move.”

“What?!” Hutch looked flabbergasted. It registered in the back of his mind that Starsky and Huggy were removing their shirts and wringing them out. He turned to see them walking toward the house, Huggy’s narrow bantam rooster chest pushed arrogantly forward.

“I said, I made the first move. We were out here talking, and I just…kissed him. That’s all.”

Hutch ran a hand through his hair. “But, Caro…”

“I don’t have a good reason for it, Ken. I just did it. Can we let it go now? I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

Hutch followed her into the house, happy to see that the rest of his guests were eating. Dobey was telling some story about an arrest gone wrong and had everyone laughing. Minnie had returned from taking Joan home, and she gave Hutch a wave and a smile as he passed by. Hutch returned it, walking into the kitchen. Grabbing a beer from the cooler, he drank half of it in several gulps.

Huggy entered the dining room wearing shorts and a shirt Hutch recognized as Starsky’s from his very skinny days after the shooting, and a moment later, Starsky appeared in the kitchen with fresh, dry clothes on.  At the sight of his friend and lover, Hutch immediately felt some of the tension drain from his body.

“Are you all right?” Starsky asked him in a low voice, pulling him to the side.

“I’ve been better,” Hutch admitted. His head hurt and his back was killing him. Starsky put a hand on his shoulder. Then, after searching his face, pulled him into a hug.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Hutch. She’s just confused, is all.” They held each other for several minutes, standing by the back door, out of sight of their guests who mingled between the dining room table and the back deck.

Finally Hutch pulled away enough to look down into his partner’s face. “I love you, you know,” he said huskily. “And I don’t regret any of this.”

“I know,” Starsky smiled, sensing that his partner wasn’t only upset about his sister, but also about the earlier scene with Joan Meredith. He leaned in and ran his lips over Hutch’s. He intended only to give him a quick, reassuring kiss but, finding the taste of his partner too tantalizing to stop there, he pressed his mouth more firmly and gathered him tightly in his arms, nibbling at his full upper lip. Hutch responded in kind, angling his head and opening his mouth, inviting Starsky in. The din around them faded as they tasted one another, reveling in the sensations of being together this way. Hutch felt the broken pieces of himself knitting together.

The next thing they knew, they were pulled apart by a shattering crash, their eyes drawn to the floor where pieces of clear glass lay scattered on the linoleum. In unison, their gazes moved upward to find Minnie standing there, a look of utter shock on her face.

With a calm he wasn’t sure he felt, Starsky disentangled himself from his partner, took the broom out of the pantry, and began sweeping up the mess while Hutch moved forward and took Minnie by the hand, sitting her down on a kitchen chair.

“You all right, Min?” he asked softly, taking the seat opposite and leaning toward her.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m all right. Just surprised is all.” She swallowed. “How long have you two…?” She left the question open.

“A few months,” Hutch answered. “Sorry to shock you like that. We really thought everyone here had figured it out.”

Starsky put the broom and dust pan away. “And if you hadn’t, I figured Joan would’ve told you when you drove her home,” he came to stand behind Hutch, resting his hands on his shoulders.

Minnie shook her head. “No, she just said she was suddenly sick. But I’m beginning to understand why.”

Hutch inwardly cringed at her words. He reached for Starsky’s hand on his shoulder, wondering how his partner was taking it. Minnie had always kidded him about being such a ladies’ man and a “trashy boy”. It couldn’t be easy for him to watch her estimation of him change.

“You see,” Minnie clarified, realizing she had been taken the wrong way, “On our way here, Joan confided in me that she wanted to start something up with you again, Starsky. So finding out you are no longer on the market couldn’t have been easy for her.”

Hutch sighed with relief and raised his head to look at Starsky over his shoulder, wondering what he thought of that bit of news.

“I wasn’t expecting this, fellas, but I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. I just never believed the rumors, you know?” Minnie shrugged.

“The rumors weren’t true,” Hutch pointed out. “Starsk and I have only been involved since Christmas. Nothing before that.”

“Huh.” Minnie sat a moment, contemplating, then smiled. “Well…to each his own! If you’re happy, that’s all I care about!”

Dobey walked in at that moment, looking for a towel. “Spilled some potato salad on my shirt,” he explained gruffly.

Starsky pulled a dish towel out of the drawer and wet it in the sink. Then he turned to Dobey and started swiping at the stain. With a growl, Dobey grabbed the cloth. “I can do it myself, Starsky!” Minnie and Hutch shared a grin.

Someone put on some of the music Starsky had picked out and left by the stereo, and Carolyn came in for the trashcan in order to dump all the paper plates. “I’ll help,” Minnie offered.

Starsky sighed. “Let’s just shelve all this drama and go have a good time. Waddya say?”

Hutch nodded and followed him out to the deck, where they were able to get a game of badmitton started.

Laughingly, they picked teams, everyone vying to be the first chosen. As it ended up, Hutch, Scott, Benny, and Carolyn played against Starsky, Benny’s friend Bruce, Joe, and Minnie. The Dobeys, Joanne, Barbara, Bill, and Huggy watched in lawn chairs from the sidelines.

The game was close and laughingly competitive, with more than one player ending up on the ground after diving for the birdie. Hutch had to bow out of the third game, claiming he needed a breather, so Huggy took his place. Sitting in the shade, Hutch nursed a beer and tried to ignore the throbbing in his back.

“Ken,” his mother sat down beside him. “What’s wrong with Carolyn?”

Hutch carefully schooled his face. “What do you mean? Looks like she’s having fun.”

“I mean, why did she suddenly change he mind about staying with me? And she doesn’t seem herself—she was all tense earlier when she came in from outside. She grabbed hold of David like there was something she had to tell him.”

Inwardly cursing his sister for leaving it to him to make excuses for her with their mother, Hutch said, “You’ll have to ask her what she said to Starsky, and I’m not sure why she’s staying here, Mom, unless she just wanted to spend time with me. You don’t mind, do you?”

Barbara blinked. “No..no, of course not, Kenneth. I guess it only makes sense she would like to see more of you. I just wondered if something was wrong.”

“Wouldn’t she tell you if there was?” Hutch asked innocently.

“I suppose…”

“Then stop worrying.”

As much as Hutch had looked forward to the party, he was immensely relieved when it was over. Before Huggy left, Hutch pulled him to the side. “Hug, I’m sorry I went nuts on you like that. You didn’t deserve it. Caro told me she started it all.”

“I have to admit I was feeling good about a pretty lady like Carolyn showing interest in me,” Huggy admitted, immediately receptive of his friend’s apology. “So much so, that I ignored the bells going off in my head that it wasn’t such a good idea getting into anything with your sister. But, man, I swear…I didn’t know she was married. The Bear don’t go that dangerous route, if you know what I mean.”

“I hear ya, Hug,” Hutch smiled, giving his friend a warm pat on the arm. They shook hands and fell into a loose hug. “Thanks for coming. Your support means a lot to me and Starsky.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it, bro.” With a wave, Huggy sauntered off to his car.

Their mothers were the last to leave, since they were helping to clean up. Bill had caught a ride home with his son.

“Too bad that girl got sick just as she got here,” Joanne commented as she bundled up the last of the trash and handed it to Starsky to take outside to the can.

Starsky and Hutch shared a look. “She wasn’t so much sick, Ma, as disgusted, I think.”

“What do you mean?” Joanne stopped sweeping and looked at her son.

“Joan and I dated a couple of times, and she didn’t take well to finding out about my new relationship with Hutch.”

“Oh, dear,” Joanne sighed.

“It seems she was hoping to start something up again,” Starsky explained. “I guess that’s why she couldn’t accept that Hutch and me love each other this way. Hutch caught her trying to convince me I’d rather be with her.”

Carolyn put down the wet rag she was using to wipe down the counters and wrapped her arms around her brother. “That must’ve hurt, Ken.”

“It didn’t thrill me,” Hutch admitted, accepting her embrace. “Joan and I weren’t really friends, but the things that she said upset me.”

Barbara stopped Starsky as he started out the door with the trash, giving him a one-armed hug. “It’s a shame people can be so narrow-minded.” She gave him an extra squeeze before letting him go. Starsky smiled and headed outside. “How ugly did it get, Kenneth?” Barbara asked, turning to look at her son.

“Not too bad.” He chuckled. “Starsky felt the need to show her just how committed we are, and I guess Joan couldn’t take it. She left without saying goodbye. I never really thought she’d feel this way, or we wouldn’t have invited her in the first place. I guess Starsk felt the same way.”

Joanne came downstairs with their jackets and purses, they said their goodbyes and left for home.

“God, I’m tired,” Starsky said when he came inside after waving them off. He flopped down on the couch.

“I am too,” Carolyn admitted. “However, there’s something I really need to do. You said Huggy has a bar downtown?” At Starsky’s nod, she continued, “Could you give me directions and let me borrow the car? He said he’d be working ‘til closing. I didn’t get a chance to explain things to him, and I feel so bad about what happened.”

Hutch frowned. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Carolyn turned to her brother. “Why not? I started the whole thing, and because of me, you two got into a fight.”

“We made up, though. Everything’s fine. Why should you go down there?”

“Because I feel like a heel! Are you going to let me borrow the car, or do I have to take a cab?”

With a sigh, Hutch handed over the keys to the Camaro and told her the easiest way to get to Huggy’s. When she’d gone, Hutch eased himself down next to his partner.

“Back hurting again, babe?” Starsky asked gently.

Hutch let out a long breath. “Yeah. I shouldn’t have played badmitton.”

“You could’ve played without all the antics. Hell, you played like you were in the semi-finals or something.”

Hutch wrinkled his brow. “They have those for badmitton?” he teased.

Starsky put an arm around him, pulling him close until Hutch’s head rested on his shoulder. “If they do, they need to recruit you, babe.” He carded his fingers through his partner’s blond hair. “I’m sorry the party didn’t go as well as planned.” He squeezed his shoulder. “And I’m sorry Joan tried to seduce me upstairs.”

Hutch moved his hand to Starsky’s leg. “Were you tempted, Starsk? Tell the truth.”

Starsky pulled away, dislodging Hutch from his shoulder, and looked him in the face. “No, Hutch. I was in no way tempted to kiss Joan or do anything else with her.”

Hutch’s face was conflicted as he pulled Starsky back close to him. “I mean, I want you to know that nothing’s written in stone, here. If you want out, we can sell the house and go back to the way things were. But I don’t think I could live here with you, Starsk, if you only wanted to be friends again.” Hutch tried hard to look away, but Starsky held his chin with his hand.

“Are you nuts?” Starsky’s face was incredulous. “Wasn’t that me saying how happy I was just last night? Where’s this coming from? Just because Joan makes a stink ‘cause she thinks she knows everything, you suddenly think I want out?” He backed into the cushions, dropping his hand from Hutch’s face. “Or maybe it’s you who wants out.”

“God, no!” Hutch was immediately on him, kissing his cheeks, his eyes, his mouth. He buried his face in Starsky’s neck.  “Don’t ever say that again, Starsky!”

“Well, how do you think I felt when you asked me?” Starsky slowly lost the tension that had built up in his body and cradled his partner lovingly. “Why don’t we make a deal that if the very unlikely event ever occurs that one of us wants out of this relationship, we swear we will be honest and tell the other.”

“It’s a deal,” Hutch promised, kissing him. “but it isn’t going to be me.”

“Or me,” Starsky agreed, wrapping his arms more tightly around him. When Hutch cried out in pain, he backed up. “Babe, we’ve got to get some pain reliever into you and get you to bed.”

“I’m okay,” Hutch objected from his nook between Starsky’s shoulder and neck.

“No, you’re not. Come on. I’ll run you a hot bath.” He gave Hutch a light smack on the ass, secretly loving the way Hutch let him baby him and take the dominant role at times such as these. It wasn’t the same thing as with a woman, exactly, because Hutch was a tough man. But Starsky did feel a sense of protectiveness over his partner. He always had. And holding him gently and feeling him snuggle up to him brought him a lot of satisfaction, and perhaps went a long way in keeping him from missing the company of a woman. It seemed when he and Hutch became lovers, they just naturally learned to trade dominant roles, but in bed and out of it.

Once Starsky had Hutch in the tub, he set about pulling the bed covers down and lighting a few candles. He planned to give his lover a relaxing rub down that would get rid of some of the nasty back pain and help him to fall asleep.

When Hutch appeared in the doorway clean and smelling sweetly of soap, Starsky told him to lie down on the bed, flat on his stomach. When he did so, Starsky straddled him and began alternately rubbing his fingers and the heels of his hands into the muscles of Hutch’s tense lower back. In seconds he had his partner groaning into the pillow. Starsky shifted to put a little strawberry-scented oil on his palms. He looked back at Hutch. The sight of his lover’s long, pale body spread out on the bed, with that muscular ass just begging to be touched, almost undid Starsky’s resolve to stick to the massage, but he swallowed his desire and kept going, ignoring what Hutch’s grunts and moans were doing to his groin area. But as Hutch began to relax and his muscles to soften up, Starsky gave in and began planting soft kisses on the nape of his partner’s neck, nudging the silky blond hair aside with his nose for better access. He moved downward, nipping Hutch’s shoulders with his teeth, then moving slowly down his back, leisurely kissing and licking the skin slickened with flavored oil.

“Oh, shit, Starsk, I can’t move. I’m like jello,” Hutch groaned.

“You don’t hafta move, babe. I’m gonna do it all.” When Starsky reached Hutch’s ass, he paused to take it all in. He loved the silky texture and the way it tasted on his tongue. He slowly licked first one cheek and then the other, feeling Hutch shiver beneath him. Kneeling, Starsky scooted Hutch’s legs apart and nudged him until he bent them at the knees, like a frog. Hutch clutched his pillow to his face and chest, his body quivering with desire, his back pain all but forgotten, as Starsky gently kissed the sole of first one foot and then the other before he settled down to his feast. Dripping a little strawberry oil into the crease of Hutch’s ass, he gently began smoothing it out with his tongue, eliciting a moan from his partner that sent shivers up his spine. Spreading the smooth cheeks with his hands, he twisted and turned his pointed tongue at the opening to Hutch’s body, making his lover squirm on the mattress. He kept it up, alternating licks and jabs until Hutch was trembling and gasping. Then he began to suck on the puckered flesh, enjoying the feel and the taste of it.

“God, Starsky, I can stand it anymore! I want you so bad,” Hutch almost sobbed into the pillow.

With a smile, Starsky leaned up and squeezed a liberal amount of oil on his hand and applied it to his now-throbbing erection, stroking it in anticipation as he eyed his target. Moving up on the bed, he whispered in Hutch’s ear. “Tell me you want me again.”

Hutch moaned and trembled beneath him. “I want you!” He lifted his ass off the mattress in invitation, and Starsky positioned his cock. With a quick jab, he entered the tight tunnel, and Hutch almost bucked off the bed. “Yes!” he cried, ignoring the stab of pain in his back as he pushed against his partner, shoving the thick phallus as far inside him as it would go. Starsky began thrusting rhythmically, growling low as he took his pleasure.

Hutch felt powerful, despite his position. He and Starsky both knew the control he had over the situation—they’d both learned quickly that the person on the bottom could heighten the pleasure of their partner considerably with a few skillful moves. Hutch squeezed and milked the soft steel inside his body, using his inner muscles to drive Starsky higher, listening to and getting off on his cries of passion. He rose to meet him with every thrust, maximizing their contact, forcing Starsky to take him more deeply, and loving every minute of it.

As Hutch bucked backward and Starsky pushed him forward, his cock brushed the sheet, adding yet another sensation to heighten his own approaching climax. Starsky adjusted and turned, his prick stabbing inside Hutch like a blunt spear, and a thrill trickled through Hutch’s body. He gasped and cried out hoarsely, rocking on the bed, gripping Starsky with his rectal muscles as they both lost themselves in their union. Starsky thrust on and on in a marathon fuck, grinding and pumping, making Hutch beg for release. “Please, Starsk, oh please…” his voice quivered, hanging on the precipice of deliverance but unable to topple over.

“Gonna…fuck…you…senseless!” Starsky promised gruffly, accenting each word with a mighty thrust, and Hutch believed him. He was quickly losing all sense as his partner bore into him. Suddenly, Starsky grabbed onto a hunk of Hutch’s hair and pulled, not enough to hurt, but with just enough force to kindle a new wave of desire in his partner, and Hutch groaned mightily.

“You feel…me in there…don’t ya?” Starsky gave a twist of his hips, and Hutch whimpered in reply. Starsky was on a high, dominating his strong partner in a way he’d never done before and loving it. Letting go of his hair, he grasped Hutch by the thighs and pulled him closer with every jab of his cock. “Take it, babe, take it,” he growled, overcome by sensation. Sweat poured down his face and his sides as he drilled into Hutch, his breathing erratic. He felt the climax building within him, and he reached around Hutch’s body to take hold of his rock-hard erection. Giving it a stroke, he sent Hutch toppling over the edge with jerks and shouts of pleasure. As Hutch’s body contracted around him, Starsky’s cock erupted, making him light-headed. He cried out Hutch’s name as he ejected what felt like gallons of his sperm into him, his hands once again grasping both of Hutch’s thighs as he held on.

They collapsed on the bed, panting. It took Hutch long moments to revive himself enough to turn over. Sweat shone all over Starsky’s body, dampening the dark hair on his chest, groin, and legs. His ruddy cock drooped on his right thigh, exhausted and still dripping.

“Holy shit, Starsk, have you been taking vitamins?” Hutch finally asked, his voice raw from its workout.

Starsky chuckled, the beginning of a post-coital high taking over. “Naw, I was just really, really turned on. Something about you confronting Joan Meredith, and then taking on Huggy outside. Plus your spectacular bod laid out all over our bed.”

Hutch grinned. “I was just as turned on by your possessive kiss in front of Joan.” He reached for Starsky’s hand and clasped it. “But I didn’t realize you’d go all Tarzan on me.” He smiled wider. “I kinda liked it.” He kissed their joined hands. Glancing at the clock, he said, “Fuck, Starsk, it’s midnight—where the hell is Carolyn?”

“She’s only been gone a coupla hours,” Starsky pointed out, playing with Hutch’s fingers.

“How long does it take to apologize?”

“Well, we can’t call her at The Pits. That’ll really piss her off.”

Hutch sat up. “She has really got a nerve, worrying me like this.”

“Aw, Hutch. She’s a big girl.”

Hutch grumbled as he lay back down on the bed, punching the pillow before sticking it under his head. Before long, exhausted as they were, they both fell asleep, only to be awakened when Carolyn entered the house and climbed the stairs. Hutch glanced at the clock. “Two AM, Starsk,” he muttered, aware that his partner had awakened, too. “Glad we didn’t sit up and wait.” Starsky put out a soothing hand and patted his partner on the head before drifting off to sleep again.

***

During the following weeks, Starsky purchased a new camera and practiced using it by taking pictures of things in nature all around the house and in the woods. Hutch enjoyed going on walks with him, searching out objects for him to photograph. Starsky took these rolls to be developed. They were so isolated, they were able to swim nude in the pond without the worry of being seen, and often did so at the hottest time of the day. It was on one of these occasions, as they lay on a blanket drying off in the sun, that Starsky stated his wish to photograph Hutch in the nude.

“I’d do it, if it weren’t for the fact that I’d have to take it to the photo shop to be developed.”

“So why don’t you learn to develop film yourself?” Hutch suggested, stretching out his long limbs in the dappled sunshine. Starsky noted that he hadn’t rejected the idea of being photographed. He loved the idea of capturing the beauty of his partner’s body on film. So as soon as he could, he bought a book and began studying it. Before he knew it, he and Hutch were building a dark room for him onto the side of the house. It connected to the kitchen, and would double as an office. They worked on it late in the afternoons, after their swim, saving the morning for chores and errands.

Hutch’s sister had gotten a flight home the day after the party, and Hutch hadn’t heard from her since.  He hoped she was working things out with Stan. They had two kids to think of, after all. As he hammered a nail into the wall of the almost completed darkroom one afternoon, Starsky came sauntering around the corner of the house with a couple large glasses of ice water.

“Ready for a break?” Starsky asked. Wiping the sweat off his brow, Hutch put the hammer down and sat on the ground, accepting the glass from Starsky, who took a seat beside him in the grass. The cool breeze ruffling through Hutch’s sweaty hair felt wonderful, and after taking a long drink, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the sun on his face. Starsky had been helping him with the construction of the room, but had taken a break to make a phone call and get them some drinks.

“How’s your mom? Feeling better?” Hutch asked. Joanne had been sick with a bad cold.

“Yeah. She said the cold’s gone. Your mom took good care of her.” Starsky drank his water. “Isn’t if funny how good they get along?” he mused. “I would never have imagined it.”

“Me neither,” Hutch agreed, eyes still closed and face tilted toward the sky. After a moment, he felt a warm hand over his.

“I guess Starskys and Hutchinsons mix well.”

Hutch smiled and rolled his head to the side to look at his partner. The love shining in the deep blue eyes took his breath away. He leaned in and kissed Starsky softly, lips lingering. They gazed at each other for a long moment before Lady exited the newly-installed doggy door and inserted her wet nose between them.

“I think she’s tellin’ us to get back to work,” Starsky laughed. He got to his feet and helped Hutch to stand. His partner suppressed a groan, his back still bothering him. Starsky gave him a look, silently calling him stubborn since he refused to go to the doctor. They went back to their work, not stopping until the sun began to set.

“How about ordering a pizza?” Hutch suggested as he peeled off his sweaty clothes and headed for the shower.

“Okay. You want a veggie?”

“Sounds good.” Hutch disappeared around the corner. Starsky heard the water come on and picked up the phone, reading the number for pizza delivery off the magnet on the refrigerator. They were lucky there was a pizza place close enough to deliver. The discovery had put Starsky on cloud nine and done much to change his original opinion that they now lived in the boonies. He ordered a medium veggie and a medium sausage.

The moment he hung up, the phone rang.

“Hello?” Tucking the receiver onto his shoulder, Starsky reached into the refrigerator for a couple of cold bottles of beer.

“David?” He recognized Barbara’s voice. She sounded off, and he immediately thought of his sick mother and began to worry. But he had spoken to her only a few hours before—she had been fine then.

“Something wrong, Barbara?” he asked.

“Is Kenneth there?”

“He’s in the shower. Are you okay?” Starsky sat down at the kitchen table.

“I’m fine. This is about Carolyn. She’s left Stan.”

“Oh, no.”

“You don’t sound surprised,” Barbara accused.

Starsky wanted to kick himself. “I-I …uh. She, that is…”

“Never mind, David. Just have Kenneth call me, please.”

“Sure.” Starsky hung up, wincing. Barbara probably gathered that her daughter had confided in them about troubles in her marriage during her stay a few weeks ago. He slumped in his chair. He heard the bathroom door opening upstairs and the creak of the floor as Hutch walked to the bedroom.

A few moments later, his partner appeared in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a white shirt. Starsky’s distracted demeanor immediately alerted him.

“What’s happened?”

“Your mom says Caro has left Stan,” Starsky told him bluntly.

“Shit.” Hutch sunk onto the chair opposite him.

“She wants you to call her. Your mom, that is.”

Starsky reached up to the wall and grabbed the receiver, handing it to Hutch across the table. He punched the number in for him, then sat back and listened to the one-sided conversation. When Hutch finally hung up, Starsky was just returning from the front door with the pizzas. He set them on the table and grabbed some plates.

“So what did she say?”

“Caro hasn’t been very forthcoming with Mom, but evidently she and Stan agreed to the split and have made an arrangement about the twins.” He sighed heavily, rubbing his hand over his face. “I can’t believe this, Starsk.”

“I guess her suspicions about Stan were correct,” Starsky replied grimly, putting a couple of slices of pizza on each of their plates.

“I need to call her.” Hutch came around the table and picked the phone up again. Although he let it ring for a long time, there was no answer. Hanging up, he cursed.

“I’m sure she’s okay, Hutch. It all sounds very amicable. She probably didn’t want to tell your mom until it was all settled.”

“Why the hell didn’t she tell me?” Hutch complained.

Starsky didn’t know the answer to that. “Maybe ‘cause you’re a guy?” he hazarded a guess. “Maybe she just needed her mother.”

Hutch sat back down and picked at his pizza. “Maybe.”

Starsky laid his hand over Hutch’s. “Babe, you can’t solve everybody’s problems. Your sister will figure things out, don’t worry.”

Hutch nodded and tried to smile.

“Hey, I forgot to tell ya—Scott called and wanted us to come by tonight. You wanna?” Starsky spoke around his piece of pizza. He got up to get more beer, passing one to Hutch. Leaning his hip against the kitchen counter, he crossed one foot over the other, waiting to see what Hutch would say. He’d like it if they got out of the house for a while. They both needed to loosen up a little.

Hutch drank some beer before replying. “I guess we could, if you want to. We need to shower. What time did he say?”

“Said it didn’t matter. Anytime.”

Hutch stood and threw away the wadded up napkins and greasy paper plates. “Okay, get washed up and let’s go.”

Starsky grinned and followed his partner into the bedroom, where he stripped down. Grabbing a clean towel, he headed for the bathroom as Hutch busied himself putting on socks and shoes. When Starsky finished washing up, he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, towel pressed to his face. He suddenly felt large hands grab his hips and the singular sensation of his lover’s mouth sheathing his cock. Starsky’s hand shot out to steady himself on the wall, and he pulled the towel from his eyes with the other, peering down at Hutch seated on the toilet seat in front of him, his mouth surrounding his fast-growing cock.

“This is a nice su-surprise!” he gasped as his lover’s hands moved around to cup his tightening buttocks.

“Mmm….” Hutch’s moan vibrated into his sensitive flesh, giving Starsky chills of pleasure. He placed his hand in Hutch’s wet hair, trying not to grip too roughly. Hutch’s head bobbed over him, sucking and licking until Starsky thought he was going to die if he didn’t come right then and there. Hutch’s hands moved back around to cup Starsky’s balls and hold the base of his cock so he could lick it like a huge, all-day sucker. Hutch’s head then moved down, his tongue lapping over Starsky’s tightening scrotum before moving lower to the insides of his thighs while Starsky grunted and groaned his approval, falling forward to lean against the wall behind the commode.

“Aw, Jeezus, Hutch! Shit!” He shut his eyes and leaned his head back, drowning in the sensations. Hutch continued to lick and tease, nibble and taste until Starsky was panting hard. Then he straightened his back and pulled the leaking organ into his mouth again, giving it an all-mighty suck before pulling it all the way back in his throat and swallowing.

Starsky let out a bellow that was so loud it hurt Hutch’s ears, but he kept swallowing, taking in the sudden gush of semen, flattening his tongue against his lover’s throbbing cock, teasing the base with its tip. His left hand still cradled the fragile balls, and he rolled them in his palm, causing Starsky to shoot another, smaller, load into his mouth before withdrawing.

“Jeezus, gawd, Hutch!” Starsky groaned, sliding to the bathroom floor. Hutch grinned.

“How in the hell did you learn to do that?” Starsky asked several minutes later as he entered the bedroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his middle.

“An old Indian guide taught me,” Hutch smiled.

“Huh?” Starsky went to the closet for a pair of jeans.

Hutch laughed. “Okay, Joey told me.”

“Joey told you how to give me head?” Starsky frowned. He threw the towel on the floor and stepped into his jeans, not bothering with underwear.

“Yep. We got to talking about it, and he gave me some pointers. Not that you’d been complaining before…” he watched his partner pull a navy blue shirt over his head “But I wanted to find out how to really please you.”

“Well,” Starsky chuckled, slipping into his shoes, “you certainly succeeded. That was the best head I’ve ever had!”

“I’m glad,” Hutch kissed him briefly before leaving the bedroom to go feed the dog.

In the car on the way to Scott’s and Joey’s, Hutch suddenly said, “Starsk---did I ever tell you what Scott told me about their sex life?”

Starsky turned from where he’d been gazing out the passenger window and looked at his partner. It had gotten dark, and the lights from passing cars intermittently lit up Hutch’s features.

“I don’t think so. What about it?”

“Well, one time I was over there---I think it was that evening when you were supposed to be out with Huggy but were really meeting Benny about the house.” He glanced at Starsky and then back at the road. “Scott pretty much told me they were swingers. That his and Joey’s relationship worked because they weren’t exclusive. I asked if that meant they cheated on each other, and he said no…they did it together. Like, threesomes or foursomes.”

Starsky’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re kiddin’ me.”

Hutch shook his head. “I think he wanted to know if it was our scene, too.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said we’re exclusive.” He looked again at Starsky. “That’s what you’d want me to say, right? I mean, we’re only with each other.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I mean…you wouldn’t want to mess around with other guys, would you?”

Starsky put a hand on Hutch’s thigh, unsure if his partner wanted to know if he wasn’t happy doing it with just him, or if he wanted to see if he’d be willing to try it as a group. “Of course, Hutch…I don’t wanna be with anyone else. Do you?”

“No! No.” Hutch shook his head emphatically.

Starsky thought about it. “To be honest, I don’t think I could stand sitting there watching some guy putting his hands on you. Kissing you. I mean, that’s what they do, right? Trade off?”

Hutch smiled and shrugged. “I guess so. I’m glad we’re on the same page, because I’d try it if you really wanted to, but I don’t think I’d like it.”

“You don’t think Scott’ll try to talk us into it or anything, do you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just wanted you to know that he’d brought it up, in case Joey said something. I was a little weirded out when he told me, but Scott just accepted my answer and went on like nothing had been said.”

Starsky thought a moment. “I guess some people just need a little more to get off. It’s kinda hard to imagine those guys all doin’ it together, though.”

Hutch tilted his head, considering, his eyes on the road ahead. “I guess I could see how it could be exciting…someone holding you and kissing your neck from behind, maybe, while someone else sucks you off in front.”

Starsky shifted in the seat. “Yeah, but…would that person behind you put his cock in you? And who would I be? The one behind or in front?”

Hutch snapped back to attention. “I don’t want to do it, Starsk…I was just trying to imagine what the appeal would be. It would be exciting, but I don’t want anyone doing anything to you, or anyone but you doing stuff to me.” He reached for his partner’s hand and clasped it on the console between them. “I love you.”

Starsky grinned, relieved. “Right back atcha, pal.”

When they arrived at Scott’s and Joey’s and got out of the car, they headed around back where they could hear music and talking. Several couples sat around, enjoying the view of the ocean and drinking beer. Some smoked, and Hutch recognized the sweet aroma of marijuana. Joey offered him a hit, but he shook his head. Scott introduced them to a few guys they’d never met before.

A guy named Jimmy called out, “Where were these two when all the fun was going on earlier? Didn’t you invite them, Scott?”

“Dave and Ken aren’t into our scene,” Scott answered, handing a beer to each. Hutch and Starsky shared a look, acknowledging between them just what “fun” had gone on earlier without them.

“That’s really too bad,” a dark, bearded man named Bart said with a leer. He was sprawled out on the ground, his back leaning against Jimmy, who was reclining against the low wall that bordered one side of the patio. Bart looked Hutch up and down like he was something he’d like to get his hands on, and when Hutch felt Starsky tense up, he slipped his arm around his partner’s waist, pulling him close. Starsky leaned in and kissed Hutch’s neck --marking his territory, Hutch assumed with some amusement--and as he did so, Hutch watched Bart’s eyes kindle with desire, which was most assuredly not Starsky’s intent.

Uncomfortable, he took Starsky by the hand and led them away to a bit of grassy sand where they could sit and watch the ocean without being close to Bart and Jimmy. Scott came over and chatted with them a few minutes before being called away by another one of his guests.

“I don’t know, Hutch,” Starsky murmured. “I don’t much like the looks of that guy Bart.”

Hutch squeezed Starsky’s hand. “Well, I should hope not.”

Starsky made a face. “Hardy har har, funny man. You know what I mean. He looked at you like he’d like to ravish you.”

“Ravish me?” Hutch chuckled. “Starsk, have you been reading your mom’s romance novels?”

Starsky elbowed him in the ribs. “You know what I’m saying. You saw him checking you out.”

Hutch leaned over and kissed Starsky gently. “He can check me out all he wants. He can’t have me, though. I’m all yours.” He smiled and kissed him again, leaning farther in as Starsky tilted his head and deepened the kiss, swiping his warm tongue against Hutch’s.  Hutch buried a hand in Starsky’s curls, holding him still as he eagerly plundered his mouth. Starsky’s hand came up and brushed Hutch’s nipple, and Hutch broke away, breathing slightly hard, his eyes dark with desire. “We’d better stop, buddy, or we’re going to go too far.”

Starsky got to his feet and put out a hand to help him up. “Let’s walk over to our mothers’ a minute. It’ll cool us off.” He glanced over at Bart, who was watching them.

Hutch grinned as he brushed sand off his butt. “Nothing like a trip to our mothers’ to squelch the desire!” They called to Scott to let him know where they were going and started off, skirting the small yards of several houses on their way. The moon hanging over the ocean was beautiful, and Hutch took Starsky’s hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“Faggots!” A male voice cut into the silence. They turned, surprised. A couple of teenagers were standing a little way off on the beach, pointing their fingers at them. “Lookit those two queers holding hands!” They laughed again before turning and running off up the beach. Hutch looked at Starsky. Gently, Starsky pulled his hand free.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be demonstrative in public,” he said. Hutch remained quiet as they continued to their moms’ small house.

Starsky tapped on the sliding glass door. Muted music sounded from the living room, and they could see that a light was on in the living room.

“I bet they can’t hear us,” Hutch said. He tried the door, and it slid open.

“I’m always tellin’ Ma to keep this locked,” Starsky groused as they stepped inside. Hutch went ahead of him into the living room, and the next thing Starsky knew, Hutch yelled. Starsky rushed in to find his partner had an older man by the collar, pressing him up against the wall. Starsky automatically reached for the gun he no longer carried. He looked to the couch, and there sat Barbara, buttoning her blouse. By the look on her face, Starsky deduced that whatever the man had been doing to her on the couch had been with her consent.

Barbara stood up and began yelling for her son to let “Stan” go. Hutch was furious, his face a frightening shade of puce, tendons standing out on his neck. Stan appeared to be quickly recovering from his shock.

“Let go of me right now!” he demanded in a deep voice.

Hutch answered by shaking him like a doll.

Starsky grabbed Hutch’s arm and pulled at him. “Hutch! Stop! This is a friend of Barbara’s!”

Hutch let go of the man and swung around, his irate face inches from Starsky’s. “A friend! He was attacking her!”

“Kenneth, leave Stan alone!” Barbara shouted. Stan stepped to her side, and Hutch lunged at him. Stan was the same height as Hutch, and this time he fought back, the two of them tussling until they both ended up on the floor.

“David, do something!” Barbara cried.

Starsky reached for Hutch’s right arm again just as he pulled it back to strike Stan. Another hand appeared and grasped Hutch’s left arm. As they pulled him to a standing position, Starsky turned to find Bill Wethersby, who had appeared with Joanne out of her bedroom. Starsky’s eyes swept over him; he was wearing only an undershirt and boxers.

Starsky and Bill kept hold of Hutch while Barbara and Joanne helped Stan off the floor.

“I could charge you with assault!” Stan yelled.

“You keep your goddamn hands off my mother!” Hutch bellowed, panting hard with rage and trying to break from the hold the two men had on him.

Barbara stepped forward. “Kenneth, I am a grown woman, and you will not come in here and attack my friends!”

“You think I’m going to let any Joe Blow off the street come in here and take advantage of you?” Hutch shouted.

“I beg your pardon!” Stan barked.

Hutch turned on him. “Shut up, I’m not talking to you!”

The situation was escalating again, and before Starsky knew it, red and blue lights flashed outside and a cop came to the front door.

Barbara opened it.

“We had a complaint of yelling coming from this residence,” the woman flashed her badge.

“Everything’s fine,” Starsky approached the police woman. “Just a misunderstanding.” He still had Hutch by the arm.

“We live here, and these are our sons,” Joanne explained. “We’re all calm now. Everything’s fine.”

Barbara put a hand on Stan’s arm and looked at Hutch. “I think you should leave, Kenneth.”

Jaw clenched, Hutch turned and stalked out the door, Starsky following close behind. They could see Scott, Joey, and the others down the street standing on their front porch, staring at the house and the police car parked outside it, blue and red lights rotating over the neighborhood. “Come on,” Starsky said, and they headed in that direction. When they reached their car, Hutch climbed into the passenger’s seat, wincing when his back protested, while Starsky went to explain to their friends. When Starsky slid behind the steering wheel, he glanced at his still-seething partner and decided it would be better to remain quiet while Hutch calmed down.

Fifteen minutes into the ride, Hutch surprised Starsky by suggesting they go to The Pits for a drink. Starsky readily made the necessary turn, and ten minutes later he pulled up to the curb outside Huggy’s place.

It was fairly crowded inside, and Starsky ordered a couple of beers at the bar before joining Hutch in a back booth.

His partner was staring off into space, a look of disgust on his face.

“I can’t believe she’s acting this way,” he finally said. “Dad hasn’t been dead four months. What’s wrong with her?”

Starsky considered. “I dunno, Hutch. I’m not saying it’s right, but I imagine she’s been a wife and mother a long time, and being out on her own like this is affecting her. She probably just wants to stretch her wings.”

Hutch gave Starsky a look but didn’t reply.

“To tell the truth, I wasn’t too happy to find Bill Wethersby there in his underwear, even though I know they’re seeing each other,” Starsky admitted, taking a drink from his mug.

Hutch sighed. “Sorry I wasn’t more understanding about that. Now I see why you got sick of hearing me say ‘she’s a grown woman’. Doesn’t make much of a difference, does it.”

Starsky smiled and shook his head.

“I guess I acted like a fool.”

“It was a shock to find them that way, I’m sure,” Starsky said soothingly.

Hutch rubbed his hands over his face. “This has been some day. “ He shifted in his seat, wincing at the sharp twinge in his back. He took a long drink of his beer and watched Starsky eat the peanuts from the bowl on the table. “Sorry I ruined our evening,” he finally said.

“It’s not ruined, babe,” Starsky said. He patted Hutch’s knee under the table. “Huggy’s spotted us, but he’s got too many customers to head over here,” he observed. “I was kinda surprised you suggested coming here instead of going home.”

“Seemed a shame to go home when we’d only just left,” Hutch answered, trying to ignore another painful twinge in his back. In truth, he’d just hated to put such an abrupt halt to their night when he knew Starsky enjoyed going out.

“Gotta take a leak, buddy,” he said after a moment, and scooted out of the booth.

Inside the small room, Hutch used the facilities, washed his hands, then took a good look at himself in the mirror over the sink, noting the drawn look on his face. First the news about his sister’s marriage, then the kids calling him and Starsky faggots, and to top the day off, discovering his mother half-naked with some stranger on her couch. He sighed and turned on the tap. As he leaned in to splash water on his face, a searing pain ripped through his back. He winced and groaned.

Taking care not to make any quick moves, Hutch left the bathroom. When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he carefully turned around.

“What it is, my brother?” Huggy smiled.

“Hi, Hug. It sure is hopping tonight,” Hutch greeted his friend.

“It most certainly is that. I saw you and the swarthy one come in earlier, but I haven’t had a moment to spare.” They both looked toward the booth where Starsky and Hutch had been sitting.

“I see Joan Meredith has found Starsky,” Huggy said a little hesitantly, since that was the understatement of the year. Joan had not only found him, she was practically sitting in his lap, her arm curved around his neck, and her face laughing up at him. It was obvious that Starsky was enjoying the attention. Hutch knew that his partner had been bothered by the gibes thrown at them by the teens on the beach, and he wasn’t surprised to find him flirting with the first female to give him some attention. Unfortunately, Joan was likely to take it the wrong way.

“I can’t handle this tonight, Hug,” Hutch said quietly. The last thing he wanted was another confrontation with Joan. He shouldn’t have suggested they come there, after all.

Huggy gave him a look of concern. “You don’t look so good, Hutch.”

Hutch leaned against the wall. “I think I wrenched my back earlier in a tussle.” He frowned, putting a hand on the small of his back. “It’s just getting worse. Plus, everything’s gone wrong today, and this is really the last thing I want to deal with. Can you call me a cab? I’ll wait for it outside.”

“What do I tell your other half?” Huggy inquired, picking up the phone from the bar and dialing.

“Tell him the truth. I’m hurting, and I don’t want to ruin his good time. He should stay as long as he likes. I’m just gonna go home, take some pain reliever and go to bed.” Hutch headed outside, breathing in the cool night air. He sat down carefully on a bench and waited. The cab pulled up a couple of minutes later, and he lowered himself into the back, holding in a groan of pain.

Once at home, he put Lady outside to sleep in the dog house they’d built, took a double dose of pain reliever, undressed, and eased himself under the covers, quickly falling into a deep sleep. The next thing he knew, he was awakened by a severe pain radiating from his lower back all the way down his legs. It was so excruciating, he couldn’t move an inch without exacerbating it to a degree that brought tears to his eyes.

He could tell from the complete darkness and lack of noise around him that he was alone in the house. With difficulty, he turned his head until he could see the clock on the nightstand. Three A.M. What the fuck? He’d left Huggy’s by eleven. He hadn’t wanted to spoil Starsky’s fun, but four hours?

“Starsk?” Hutch called out loudly, just to make sure. He supposed it was possible that his partner was downstairs watching TV with the sound on low, but he doubted it. There was just a quality to the place that let him know it was empty.

“Shit,” he muttered, wishing he’d left the aspirin bottle by the bed instead of in the bathroom cabinet. He was in so much pain, he didn’t even have to move to feel it. The Pits would’ve closed a couple hours ago. Where could Starsky have gone? His heart accelerated. An accident? With difficulty, Hutch moved to sit up. Something close to a scream escaped his lips when the motion caused terrible pain to shoot through his back and legs. He half-reclined on the bed, sweat forming on his brow as he tried to breathe through the worst of it. Determined, he made a lunge upward, swinging his legs off the mattress. As he reached for the phone on the bedside table, thinking he’d call the local hospital and make sure Starsky hadn’t been taken there, his back locked up on him and he cried out, slipping from his place on the bed and falling to his knees on the floor.

“Holy shit,” he all but sobbed, trying hard not to move a muscle and unleash another horrible paroxysm. Tears ran out of his eyes and down his face.

After a moment, Hutch took a deep breath and moved his left knee forward, thinking he could knee-walk to the nearest chair and heave himself up, but another seizure brought him flat on his face on the floor, where he lay for a solid hour before yanking the phone off the table and calling himself an ambulance.

To be continued