Disco Fever

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A dance floor revelation.

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Part One

Starsky stood swaying to the music as his eyes searched the noisy, crowded disco for his partner. Dance clubs were not exactly Hutch’s favorite way to spend an evening, but Starsky had been relentless in his quest to get Hutch to the new disco that everyone was talking about. Hutch, knowing the only way he would ever have any peace was to give in, had relented, but not right away of course. That wouldn’t have been any fun.

As soon as they had arrived, Hutch had taken a quick look around the crowded, smoky room and muttered, “I need a drink,” and fighting his way through the crowd, headed toward the bar.

Starsky chuckled, knowing it wasn’t going to be easy to get Hutch to loosen up and have some fun. A couple of drinks might be just what he needed. Spotting a table, Starsky quickly claimed it.

Looking around, Starsky couldn’t help but notice all the attractive young women in the place. That had been one of the reasons he’d been so anxious to get Hutch here. That and the fact that Starsky loved to dance. But the women had been the main reason he’d pushed Hutch to come with him. His partner seemed to be in a dating slump lately. Starsky couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Hutch mention a date. Hopefully, tonight would change all that.

What’s taking Hutch so long? Starsky saw no sign of his friend.

“See that guy over there?” a female voice asked. Starsky turned slightly to see who was talking. He saw three young women seated at the table behind him, one of them pointing across the room. The one talking was tall and blonde and seemed quite interested in whomever it was she was pointing out to her friends.

“You mean that tall blond?” a small brunette, who looked to be about twenty-five or so, asked.

Starsky couldn’t help himself; his eyes automatically looked in the direction the blonde had pointed. He was curious to see what kind of guy had caught their attention. Hutch? Hutch was the only blond he could see.

“Yeah, his name is Ken. He’s a police officer,” the blonde answered, as all three women looked in the same direction.

They’re talking about Hutch. Hutch stood talking to a young woman in a very short skirt with very long legs. Not bad, Hutch, not bad at all.

“Nice, very nice,” the brunette said, still looking across the room at Hutch. “You know him?”

“Yeah, I know him. I guess you could say I know him intimately.” The blonde practically purred her answer, clearly enjoying the fact that she had captured the interest of her two friends.

“Intimately? How did you get so lucky? Details, please.”

Not wanting to turn around again, Starsky wasn’t sure who was talking now. Not that it really mattered. He was more interested in hearing what the blonde had to say about knowing Hutch intimately. Yes, details, please.

“A friend of mine introduced me to him one night. She had raved about his… well, shall I say ‘his abilities in the bedroom’.”

“You mean he’s more than a pretty face?”

“I can tell even from this distance that there’s more to the guy then a pretty face. Have you checked out that body… those legs?” The third women, whom Starsky hadn’t even gotten a good look at, responded.

“Oh, but from this distance you can’t see the Nordic blue of his eyes. You can’t see the way his eyes can caress you with their softness. Just being with him is an incredible experience. He’s not just good-looking; he’s intelligent and very considerate. He really treats you like it’s more than a one-night stand. He’s a gentleman.”

“Not too much of a gentleman, I hope,” a soft voice laughed. “So tell us about those abilities of his in the bedroom.”

Starsky didn’t take his eyes off Hutch, as he listened to the voices behind him discussing his best friend. We’ve been best friends and partners for years, and I’ve always known you were good-looking and a real lady-killer, but I never thought about what that really meant. I mean, the looks are obvious, but I never thought about whether you had any abilities in the bedroom. Good thing you can’t hear the conversation that’s taking place behind me. Your face would be bright red right now. I know mine probably is.

“Oh, yes, the man definitely knows what to do in the bedroom. He knows exactly what to do and when to do it.” The blonde’s voice sounded almost sensuous as she talked about Hutch. As if she were reliving the experience all over again.

Don’t stop now. Keep talking. I can’t believe I’m sitting here listening to a conversation about Hutch and what an expert he is in the bedroom.

“Is he a good kisser?”

“The best. His kisses are gentle and demanding all at the same time.” A soft sigh escaped from her lips. “He’s truly an expert with those lips. Hell, he’s an expert with everything he’s got.”

The women giggled at that comment. And Starsky suddenly began to feel like a no-class eavesdropper. And they think the way men talk about women is bad? I really shouldn’t be listening to this. This is private stuff that Blondie’s telling her friends. Guess she doesn’t think it’s private, though. Wonder what Hutch would think if he knew he was the hot topic of conversation for these women. And I do mean hot.

And the conversation showed no signs of cooling down as the blonde continued discussing all of Hutch’s finer points.

“Let me tell you, he’s one very sexy man. The way he undresses you is an erotic experience all by itself; it’s as if he’s practically worshiping your body. Those hands and lips of his leave no part of your body untouched. He’s so in tune to your needs, he makes you feel as if the only thing that’s important to him is satisfying your desires.” She paused to take a breath.

“And believe me, if what he’s doing to you doesn’t turn you on, the sight of him with his face sweaty and flushed with passion will. God, he’s a beautiful sight when he’s naked aroused and making love. There is no doubt that the man loves sex.”

Starsky didn’t hear any more of the conversation. Despite the fact that he’d brought Hutch here with the intention of him finding a woman, a stab of jealousy hit Starsky and hit him hard. The vision that was now continually flashing in and out of his mind–of a naked and aroused Hutch–was beginning to have a strange effect on him.

Starsky barely noticed the women behind him leaving. He was too busy with thoughts of Hutch making love. I wonder… I wonder if Hutch has ever…? Nah, he’s not like that. He’s as straight as they come. But she said he loves sex. Of course he loves sex. What normal person doesn’t? But has he ever considered sex with another man? But I don’t want him to have sex with another man, I want him to have sex with me. I think I need a drink. I overhear some woman going on about how good my partner is in bed and suddenly I want to go to bed with him. This is insane.

“Hey, a penny for your thoughts.”

A startled Starsky looked up into the face of his smiling partner. Starsky wondered if he looked as guilty as he felt when his eyes met his partner’s blue eyes. Nordic blue eyes. And I’d give anything for those eyes to caress me the way she described.

“Oh, I was just thinking I needed a drink. Maybe a couple of drinks.”

“You okay, Starsk?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing a dance with that cute little redhead over there won’t cure.” That and a cold shower.

 

Part Two

“Starsk, go on and dance with the redhead. She’s just standing there waiting for you.” Hutch nodded in the direction of the young woman who kept looking in Starsky’s direction with an inviting smile.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint a lady.” Starsky got to his feet. “And what about you? How’d you do with that long-legged beauty you were talking to?”

“Her number’s right here, and we’ve got a date tomorrow night.” Hutch patted his shirt pocket.

“Why don’t you ask her to dance?”

“Maybe. But don’t wait for me, you go on.”

Starsky breathed a sigh of relief as he took the dance floor with the willing redhead. His palms were sweaty and his heart seemed to be pounding. He’d found it hard to look Hutch in the eyes. Some great idea it was to come here. Why did that woman have to tell her friends about Hutch’s prowess in bed here of all places? And why do I have to keep thinking about it?

Hutch finished his beer and leaned back in his chair. What the hell am I doing here? Shit, I know why I’m here. I’m here because…because my partner thinks I’m having some kind of dating slump. He thinks finding me a date will cure what ails me. If he only knew. How do I explain to him he’s the reason I don’t want to date anymore? I can just see the look on his face if I told Him he’s the reason I’m not dating. He’d probably have me committed.

Starsky had finished one dance and begun another with the same redhead. Hutch enjoyed watching Starsky dance. It was obvious from the several admiring female eyes following Starsky’s every move on the dance floor that Hutch was not alone in enjoying the sight. Damn, he looks good out there.

Hutch’s eyes followed every sway and strut Starsky made. Being around him in those damn tight jeans all the time…it’s no wonder he always seems to be on my mind.

“Check out that guy on the dance floor.”

“Yeah, man, he’s something.”

Hutch turned to see two very young women standing next to him transfixed by the sight of Starsky doing his thing with the redhead.

“Man, can that guy dance. And those tight jeans sure show off that nice ass.”

“They show off more than his ass.”

The women moved on, and Hutch turned back to watch Starsky. His ass is better than nice — it’s great. And, yes, you can’t help but notice that bulge in his jeans. But the big question is why I am suddenly taking notice of it? I don’t even remember when I first started looking at him differently. All of a sudden, I’m wondering what it would be like to kiss him. To kiss Starsky…am I going crazy? I think so. I’ve got to be going crazy. There’s no other explanation. No sane man makes love to a woman, all the while wondering what it would be like to make love to another man. No, not just any other man. Starsky is the only one I’d ever consider….

“Hey, you want to dance?”

Hutch looked up to see a tall brunette wearing bright pink hot pants. Hutch hesitated but only briefly. Might as well dance. I need something to distract my mind from where it’s been all night long. And Lord knows, those pink hot pants are certainly distracting.

“Sure, I’d love to dance.”

“Great.” The brunette smiled and held out her hand. “Let’s go.”

By the time Hutch finished his dance and had a drink at the bar with brunette, Starsky had finished dancing. Hutch watched as his partner moved across the room toward him. I hope I don’t look like some lovesick puppy, because I sure feel like one.

“You and that redhead looked pretty hot out there.” Hutch hoped he looked and sounded normal.

“She’s a good dancer. As a matter of fact, she and I are coming back here again tomorrow night.”

“Hey, that’s great. How about we call it night then? It was a good idea to come here tonight, huh? Seems we both got lucky and have dates tomorrow. You’re lying, Hutchinson. You hated being here, and you hate the idea of a date tomorrow–for either one of you.

“I’m glad we came, too. I really had fun.” Starsky pulled his car keys out of his jeans and put on what he hoped was his usual cheery smile. You’re lying, Starsky, you wish the hell you’d never thought of this. You wanted him to get a date, and now that he has one, you can’t stand it. You don’t even want to think that tomorrow night he might be naked and sweaty with some woman.

 

Part Three

Starsky knew he should be having a great time with his date. Rita — the redhead from last night — was not only a terrific dancer, but she was good looking and a lot of fun to be with. So why wasn’t he enjoying himself?

Deep down he knew the reason, and it was confirmed when he recognized the blonde woman from last night. The woman who had described, in great detail, how skilled his partner was in the art of making love.

That woman changed my life. Pretty much turned it upside down. I can’t even think straight anymore, thanks to her. Straight…interesting word choice. Straight. I always considered myself as straight as they come. And now? Now, I want to experience Hutch’s “skill” firsthand. I want…damn it, how can I possibly want to jump into bed with Hutch? He’s my partner, my best friend.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

Startled, Starsky looked up to see Rita looking at him questioningly.

“You still with me?” The redhead smiled as she watched the dark-haired detective blush.

“Sorry. I guess my mind did wander there for a minute.” He nodded toward the dance floor. “You ready for another turn out there?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Rita eagerly got to her feet.

They spent several hours at the disco, dancing and drinking. Starsky knew he was drinking too much. He knew why, too.

Starsky had planned on calling it a night when they left the disco. But Rita had other plans, and Starsky found himself going along with her suggestion of going back to her place. And then, after a few more drinks and a lot of persuasive kissing from Rita, Starsky found himself, not unwillingly, being led into the bedroom.

Rita proved to be just as good in bed as she was on the dance floor. But not good enough to keep Starsky’s mind on her. Her warm, moist lips beneath his became Hutch’s. It was Hutch’s mouth that Starsky’s tongue explored. The soft hands that so expertly roused his passion became Hutch’s. Starsky became so caught up in his fantasy, that he found himself bitterly disappointed as he shuddered his release and opened his eyes to find himself staring into Rita’s green eyes.

“That was really nice, huh?” Rita smiled with satisfaction.

Doing his best to conceal his disappointment, Starsky, with only a slight hesitation, gently brushed her lips with his. “Yeah, that was nice, real nice.”

“You’re going to stay the night, aren’t you?” Rita traced a sensuous path down Starsky’s chest.

Feeling as if things were closing in on him, Starsky sat up in bed, fumbling to find his discarded clothing. “Huh? Sorry, I can’t stay. I need to get going now. My partner and I…we have this case we’re working on. Starsky knew he was rambling, but he had to get out there. He regretted the whole evening. None of this seemed right.

With the only light in the room coming from a streetlight outside the apartment, Starsky found himself stumbling around in his attempt to get his clothes on and find his shoes.

“Sorry, I have to rush off like this. Just can’t be helped tonight.”

“You’ll call me, won’t you?”

“Sure, soon as we get this case handled, I’ll give you a call.” Starsky felt guilty saying those words. He knew damn well he wouldn’t be calling her.

Finally out of the apartment and seated in his car, Starsky sat slumped over the steering wheel, staring out into the dark and feeling somewhat lost. I feel like a real low life. Rita doesn’t mean a thing to me, and I just fell into bed with her. I think maybe sleeping with Rita was like a test. Don’t know if I flunked or passed, but I know nothing is the same anymore. Funny, it never seemed to matter before. I’ve been doing it for years. But now I want more than sex. I want…I want a relationship. I want love, and I want to wake up next to the same person every morning. I want Hutch. That’s what I really want. I haven’t had a relationship with a woman that comes anywhere near what I have with Hutch. We’ve had everything for years now but the sex. We’d die for each other. We’re closer to each other than we are with any member of own families. Thing is, we’ve always been honest with each other. We’ve never kept any secrets from each other, and certainly not any secrets that concerned the other. I’m going to have to find the words to explain to him what I’ve been feeling. I can live without him feeling the same way, as long as we can keep things as they are. But I know I can’t go on hiding the truth about my feelings from him.

With a deep sigh, Starsky started the Torino. Hutch is probably still out on his date. Hell, by now he’s probably…probably all sweaty, and… I guess I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to talk to him.

 

Part Four

Hutch stood staring out the window at the street below him. He’d lost track of how long he’d been standing there. The evening stretched out long and lonely ahead of him. Starsky’s not going to be happy when he hears I backed out of my date. I just don’t see any point in continuing to go through the motions of dating. Any ideas I ever had about living that happily-ever-after dream are all long gone. It’s just not meant to be for me. My track record with women pretty much says it all.

Turning away from the window, Hutch noticed it was almost seven o’clock. Starsky’s probably getting ready for his date about now. Hutch could picture his partner standing in front of the bathroom mirror, looking this way and that, making sure his hair was just right. He’d put on some of that musk cologne he always wears. Then he’d unbutton another button or two on his shirt. And, of course, he’d probably practice a few dance steps. The guy really likes to flaunt it, that’s for sure. Of course, he does have plenty to flaunt.

After a trip to the kitchen for a beer, Hutch collapsed dejectedly onto the sofa. Starsky’s out there, having a great time on the dance floor, with that cute little Rita. I should be happy for him. Starsky still has his dream of a wife and family. And if I were any kind of friend, I’d be hoping that his dream comes true. Which, of course, means I don’t dare say anything to him about why I’m not dating and how my feelings for him have been changing lately. Starsky should get married and have a couple of kids. He’d make a great dad.

Leaning his head back against the sofa, Hutch let out a deep sigh. So, I’ll have to pretend I’m dating. Pretend? You mean lie, don’t you? Okay, I’ll have to lie about dating. And I’ll have to hide my real feelings from him. Which is basically like lying. Lying to Starsky is something I’ve never done. Our whole relationship is based on trust.

Filled with nervous tension, Hutch could no longer sit still and began a slow pace of the room. There’s no way I can pull this off. Starsky knows me too well. He’ll start working on me, and he won’t give up until he’s satisfied he’s pulled the truth out of me. But I can’t let him know. I need time to work this all out. But I don’t have time. He’ll take one look at me Monday morning, and he’ll know something’s wrong.

Draining his beer, Hutch took the empty bottle to the kitchen and grabbed another cold one out of the refrigerator. Opening the bottle, Hutch tossed the cap into the trash. Okay, so I have to stay away from Starsky until I can get a grip on things. But how can I stay away from him without making him suspicious?

Leaning back against the counter, Hutch felt more alone and confused than he ever remembered feeling. I can’t go to the one person I’ve always gone to when I’ve felt this way.

Feeling closed in, Hutch suddenly needed to get out of his apartment. Maybe a drive will clear my head.

After driving for several hours, Hutch found himself barely able to keep his eyes open and no closer to solving his problem. Fatigue and despair won out, and he pulled into a small motel. Looking around, he realized he wasn’t even sure where he had ended up. Doesn’t really matter where I am. I’ll grab a few hours of sleep and head home. And then what? Then I decide. Do I take some time off and disappear for a while, or do I confess my deepest darkest feelings to my best friend? Couple of great choices there.

 

Part Five

Starsky found himself glaring at the telephone. He’d lost count of how many times he’d tried to call Hutch this morning, with no answer. He probably spent the night with that blonde. Sort of makes us even. But if he doesn’t answer the damn phone soon, I’m just gonna show up at his place. I’m not good at holding things in like this. I want things out in the open. No matter what the outcome? Yeah, no matter what the outcome. Well, maybe not…I don’t want to lose him. I can’t even imagine what his reaction will be. Maybe he’ll be so angry, he’ll throw me out of his apartment and end our partnership. Maybe, he’ll think I’m joking. He’ll laugh and then the expression on his face will change to one of disbelief and then to one of disgust.

Starsky paced around the kitchen, pausing to refill his coffee cup. Making a face as he swallowed the strong, bitter brew, he poured what remained in his cup down the drain. He thought about washing the few dishes in the sink, but couldn’t stand still long enough to accomplish that task. After pacing around the kitchen for a few more minutes, he grabbed the phone once again. And again there was no answer. Slamming the phone down, he grabbed his jacket. I’m going over there. If he’s not home, I’ll just wait for him.

Pulling up outside Hutch’s apartment twenty minutes later, Starsky was disappointed that he found no sign of Hutch’s beat-up Ford. Feeling his courage fading, Starsky knew if he didn’t get a chance to talk to Hutch soon, he might never have the nerve again. Part of him wanted to drive away immediately and forget the whole idea of confessing his feelings. But a larger part of him knew that leaving wasn’t the answer. I’ll wait around for a while. He’s bound to show up pretty soon.

Within minutes, Starsky was impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. I’m no good at waiting. Spotting the newspaper that Hutch had tossed into his back seat a few days ago, Starsky leaned over and reached for it. Paper in hand, he settled back to read the already well read paper.

Hearing Hutch’s wreck pulling up behind him, Starsky tossed the paper into the back seat. A sharp flicker of apprehension swept through him. It was now or never. The thought that maybe within a few minutes he would lose his best friend caused a cold, hard knot to form in his stomach. Would it be worth it? Guess, I won’t know until it’s over. I just know that our relationship has always been based on trust. I can’t not tell him how I’m feeling.

Starsky opened the door of the Torino and slid out of the car in what he hoped was his usual casual manner. He was feeling anything but casual. His palms were sweating and he wiped them on his jeans.

“Hey, Starsk. What’s up?” Hutch stood next to the Torino with an expectant look on his face.

“Nothing much.” Starsky wasn’t sure how to bring up the reason for his unexpected visit.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I need to talk to you about.” Hutch ran his hands nervously through his hair.

Seeing Hutch’s uneasiness, Starsky’s nerves tensed. “Hutch, something wrong?”

“Could be. I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

Starsky forgot his own need to talk to Hutch, as his concern for his partner deepened. “Are you sick? You look a little pale.”

Taking a good look at Hutch, Starsky could see tiny beads of perspiration forming on his forehead. He truly looked like he was going to be sick at any moment. “Hutch, let’s go inside and sit down, huh?”

“Sure. No point in standing out here on the sidewalk.”

Starsky watched as Hutch turned on his heel and strode stiffly toward the front door of his building.

Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong.

Starsky followed him through the doorway and up the stairs to Hutch’s apartment. Once inside, Starsky stood waiting for what he could only assume was going to be some kind of devastating news. His suspicions only increased as he watched Hutch pace nervously around the apartment.

“Hutch, why don’t you sit down and just say what you have to say?” Starsky took a seat on the couch and patted the seat next to him. “C’mon.”

“I can’t sit down.” Hutch stopped his pacing in front of Starsky. “I’m not even sure I can find the words to tell you what I have to tell you.” Hutch’s brow was creased with worry, as he struggled to find just the right words.

“There’s nothing we can’t say to each other, Hutch. Just tell me. Not knowing what’s goin’ on here is scaring the hell out of me.” Starsky’s biggest fear was that Hutch was ill. Something serious, maybe life threatening. As his mind jumped from illness to the possibility of their partnership ending for some unknown reason, Starsky felt a shiver of panic.

“You know, I always thought we could tell each other anything, too. But this, it’s just… well it’s just not something I thought I would ever have to say to you.” Hutch had wandered to the other side of the room, almost as if wanting to put some distance between them. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if this is something I can handle. I don’t want anything to change between us. Really, I don’t. But I think you have a right to know what’s going on with me.”

He’s sick. I knew it. It’s serious and I’m gonna have to be strong for him. Starsky watched as his partner seemed to become more distraught and anxious with each passing moment.

“It’s okay, Hutch. Just tell me. It’ll be okay. Nothing we can’t handle together.” Starsky started to get to his feet, feeling the need to be close to Hutch. It was obvious that his partner needed him.

Realizing that Starsky was getting to his feet, Hutch put up his hands as if to ward his friend off. “Starsk, don’t. Please just stay there.” Feeling as if he were running out of time, Hutch took a deep breath, telling himself that he could do this. Just tell him.

“Okay, I’m just going to say it.” Hutch folded his arms across his chest. Then feeling as if he might need something to brace himself against, he backed up and leaned against the wall.

Nodding encouragingly, Starsky licked his lips nervously and waited to hear what he was convinced could only be bad news.

“Damn, I don’t know even know where to start.” Hutch wiped a hand across his forehead. “Okay. I know you’ve been thinking I’m having some sort of dating slump. But the fact is, I just don’t feel like dating.”

He’s sick and that’s why he doesn’t feel like dating. I knew it. Starsky waited quietly, as Hutch took a deep breath.

“And the reason, I haven’t felt like it is because…” Hutch’s eyes met Starsky’s, wanting to analyze his reaction. But then his eyes shifted away, knowing he couldn’t handle the shock, disbelief, and most likely the disgust that would soon be mirrored in his best friend’s eyes.

“Starsky, I don’t want to date because I’m in love with you.” There it was done; the words were out there. Hutch wished the floor would just swallow him up. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at his partner now. The damage was done.

Starsky stared at his partner in utter disbelief. Had he heard him correctly? It couldn’t be. “I don’t believe this. Are you serious?”

Hearing Starsky’s shocked tone and then seeing the matching look on his face, Hutch knew that his worst fears had been confirmed. His partner, his best friend, the most important person in his world was repulsed by his true feelings. The little courage he had managed to muster had rapidly evaporated. He knew he couldn’t handle the disappointment and disgust his partner was apparently feeling. He couldn’t bear to see the loathing in his face or hear the disapproval in his voice.

Trying to maintain at least a small semblance of dignity, and knowing there was nothing he could say in his own defense, Hutch knew he had to get out of the room. I have to think. What do I do now?

“I’m sorry, Starsky. I’m really sorry,” Hutch said in a harsh, raw voice. “Forgive me? Please?” Taking a deep, unsteady breath, he turned and was quickly out the door, leaving Starsky listening to the departing footsteps on the stairs.

Starsky stood frozen, almost too stunned to move. “What the hell just happened here? he wondered aloud in the empty room. “For two guys who usually can communicate without words, we somehow really got our wires crossed.”

 

Part Six

Looks like once again I’m waiting to talk to Hutch. Starsky was still staring at the door where Hutch had so abruptly taken his leave. If he’d just stuck around a few more minutes, he would’ve found out that it seems we’re feeling the same things. Not that that’s unusual or anything. Guess I really gave him the wrong idea of what I was thinking. I must’ve scared the hell out of him. God, I can only imagine how he must be feeling right now.

Knowing that Hutch would have to come home sooner or later, Starsky vowed to stay and see that things got worked out between them. Hutch had had his say, now it would be his turn. I still can’t believe we’re both feeling the same way.

Grabbing a soda out of the refrigerator, he flopped down on the sofa to wait, nervously tapping his foot on the floor as he drank his soda. Lately, all I seem to be doing is waiting. Needing something to take his mind off his wait, he reached for the neatly stacked pile of magazines on the table next to him. Looking through the pile, he passed on the “National Geographic,” “Newsweek,” and the latest copy of “Readers Digest.” Boring. Tossing the magazines back onto the table, Starsky stood and stretched. Food, I need food.

After making himself a sandwich and getting another soda, Starsky turned on the TV. It’s useless; I can’t concentrate on anything right now. Shutting off the TV, Starsky just sat looking around Hutch’s apartment and waiting.

Hearing the sounds of someone coming up the stairs, Starsky quickly got to his feet. Now it was his turn to spill his guts to his partner. There couldn’t be any mistakes this time. It had to be made clear that he had the same feelings his partner did.

“Hey, welcome home, buddy,” Starsky cheerfully announced, as Hutch came through the door.

Hutch looked anything but cheerful as he asked, “What are you still doing here?”

“Waiting for you. Where’ve you been?”

“Why are you waiting for me?”

“Better question is why wouldn’t I be waiting for you? We always work out any problems we have — together.”

“So, I have a problem?”

“I didn’t say you had a problem. We have a problem. But it’s nothing we can’t fix. We just need to talk through a few things.”

“I don’t see where there’s anything for us to talk about. I think we both made ourselves pretty clear.” Hutch’s expression was one of complete and utter pain.

“That’s where you’re totally wrong, partner. Somehow, we managed to have a complete lack of communication earlier.”

“Lack of communication?” Hutch gave a short, bitter laugh. I think we communicated just fine.

“I disagree.” Starsky moved toward Hutch, stopping when he stood directly in front of him. “We would’ve communicated just fine if you hadn’t let your fear get the better of you.”

“My fear?” Hutch’s mouth tightened, as he met his friend’s gaze.

“I think you were so afraid of what my reaction would be that you just assumed the worse. Think about it. You didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say once your words had sunk in.”

“I heard you say, ‘I don’t believe this. Are you serious?'” Hutch hesitated a second then replied in a low, tormented voice. “I can’t deny that I was scared to admit my feelings for you out loud. Hell, I’m still scared. There’s so much at stake here. I don’t want to lose what we already have.”

“Hutch, you’re not going to lose anything.” Starsky reached out for his partner.

Before Hutch knew what was happening, Starsky’s lips pressed against his, and then gently covered his mouth.

A startled Hutch, still feeling the shock wave that had flowed through his entire body when Starsky’s lips met his, jerked away from his partner.

“What the hell was that?” Hutch stared at Starsky in astonishment, almost expecting to see a wide grin on Starsky’s face. “Are you making fun of me? Is this all a joke to you?”

“What the hell was that? Hutch, you’ve been way too long without a date if you don’t remember what a kiss is.” Starsky wanted to lighten the mood just a bit. He could tell Hutch was ready to bolt again.

“I remember what a kiss is. I just don’t understand what’s going on here.” Hutch was caught off guard by the look on Starsky’s face. No grin, just the most heart-rending look of tenderness Hutch had ever seen. The blond awkwardly cleared his throat, “What’s going on, Starsky?” Hutch asked, half in dread and half in anticipation. The feel of Starsky’s lips on his stayed with him, causing a shiver of longing to run through him.

“I can assure you, Hutch, that I would never make fun of your feelings for me. I love you too much to do that.”

“You love me? But you’re not in love with me, right? So why the kiss?” A tumble of confused thoughts and feelings assailed Hutch. Everything around him was suddenly unbalanced.

“Hutch, sit down here.” Starsky took a seat on the sofa and patted the space next to him.

Hutch silently took the offered seat and waited expectantly.

“Okay, well, here’s the way it is. Yes, I love you. And, yes, I’m in love with you. Got that?” Starsky searched Hutch’s face, looking for some sign that Hutch was understanding and following what he was trying to say.

Sadly, Starsky felt that Hutch was still lost. “Hutch, what I’m trying to say is that the only reason I seemed shocked by what you said earlier was because I wasn’t expecting it. Not that I didn’t like it. I just wasn’t expecting you to feel the same way I’ve been feeling.”

“What?” Hutch was almost afraid to even consider the fact that Starsky was actually in love with him.

“Hey, you’re supposed to the smart one. So listen up here. I said I feel the way the same way you do. Yes, I love you and I’m in love with you.” Starsky reached out and stroked Hutch’s face. “Are we communicating now?”

Starsky’s touch and the look of longing on his face reassured Hutch that they were indeed communicating. “Do you think we could try that kiss again?” Hutch’s tone held a trace of a challenge in it.

“I don’t see why not.” Starsky leaned in and covered Hutch’s mouth hungrily. This time, Hutch was ready, and the kiss was returned with equal fervor. Tongues slid through parted lips, and both men groaned as their thrusting tongues met and explored.

Breathing in short, harsh gasps, Hutch pulled back just slightly and found himself gazing into the almost glowing eyes of his partner. “That was some kiss, buddy.” Hutch flushed slightly at the stammer in his voice.

Struggling to catch his breath, Starsky could only nod in agreement. Still craving the feel of Hutch, Starsky pressed his mouth gently to Hutch’s, then trailed soft kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

“Starsky, you’re killing me,” Hutch murmured softly against Starsky’s face.

“Tell me about it. You’re having the same effect on me. You know, it’s been a long time since a kiss has felt like that. I feel like a teenager. Damn, I’m shaking.” Starsky gave an embarrassed laugh.

“It’s kind of nice though…in a scary kind of way.” Hutch was nervously rubbing his hand on the arm of the sofa. “It makes no sense, Starsk. No sense at all.”

“When did love ever make sense?” Starsky asked.

“I know, but damn, Starsky. Until a few minutes ago, I don’t think either of us has ever kissed a man like that before.”

“So?” Starsky looked questioningly at the blond.

“So, why… why now?” Hutch was on his feet now, looking down at Starsky. “I just want to understand what the hell is happening.”

“Love is happening, babe. Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, there’s nothing wrong with love. Hell, Starsky, I’ve loved you for years, but not like this. This urge… this need to…” Hutch turned and moved away.

“This urge to what? Talk to me, Hutch.” Starsky had gotten to his feet and was standing behind his partner. When Hutch didn’t say anything, Starsky put his arms around him and pulled him against him. “Tell me about those urges of yours, partner.” The words were whispered almost seductively in the blond’s ear.

“Damn it, Starsky, in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never had the urge to… to rip your clothes off and drag you into my bedroom.” Hutch pulled out of Starsky’s arms and turned to face him.

“Hey, I think we’re finally communicating,” Starsky announced with a grin.

“Starsky, how can you be so calm about this?” Despite his confusion, Hutch couldn’t help but laugh. “Communicating, huh? Is that what it’s called now?”

Pulling Hutch over to the sofa once again, Starsky pushed him down and then sat next to him.

“Okay, really, I’m not calm. I realize there’s a lot to consider here. But what are we supposed to do about these feelings? Think we can just make them go away?”

Hutch shook his head. “No.”

“So do we give up our partnership and friendship?”

Hutch shook his head again. “No.”

“So then we take it one day at a time. One problem at a time.” Starsky waited for a response from his quiet partner.

The still nervous Hutch ran his hands through his tangled hair. “So, where do we start?”

“I guess the first question would be what do we want from this new relationship of ours?”

“You mean like, do we give up women and commit to just each other?” Hutch found himself thinking out loud.

“Yeah, I guess we’ll need to answer that one. And what about our friends and family, do we tell them?”

“You know what? I think I like your idea of one day at a time. One problem at a time…” Hutch’s voice trailed off. “‘Lots of things to consider’ is right.”

“Probably more than we can even imagine.” Starsky planted a soft kiss on Hutch’s check. “But you know what? I’m sure it’s gonna be worth it.”

“I just don’t want to screw it up. Face it, Starsky, I’m not very good at relationships.”

“Hey, maybe not with women, but I’d say we have a pretty good track record together.”

“Yeah, we have. I guess I never realized it before, but you’ve always been everything to me. Everything but a lover.”

“Well, we can change that right now if you’d like to.”

“You feel like communicating, huh?” Hutch grinned uneasily.

“Yeah, I think I do. Are you scared?”

“Terrified,” Hutch replied, wishing he could shake the case of nerves that had taken over his body.

“So let’s take things slow. What do you think?”

“Okay. But maybe you could hang around in case, you know, I get that urge again.” Hutch’s grin was more relaxed this time.

“Partner, you know I’m here if you need me.” Starsky laughed feeling as if everything was going to be okay. “See, Hutch, we just need to communicate.”