The Other Half

Something bothered Starsky. It was plain to see. Or rather, something preoccupied him. That seemed a more fitting word for it. Hutch knew it had been going on for a long time, but he couldn’t grasp what it was. He watched and observed and came to the conclusion that Starsky wanted something. What it was, he couldn’t tell, and Starsky hadn’t breathed a word.

Maybe it was an object. Maybe something abstract. Maybe a woman. Hutch didn’t really like that last option, but he loved Starsky way too much to stand in the way of his happiness. He decided to give Starsky a little subtle advice, even if it meant having his own heart pierced by a thousand swords.

Their vacation was coming up. They had booked a lovely little house overlooking the sea, just a stone’s throw from the beach. Hutch thought it would be the perfect time to offer Starsky a light piece of wisdom.

********

On the third day of their heavenly peace, quiet, and relaxation, they had dinner on the patio. Fresh fish that Hutch had bought and grilled; roasted Greek lemony potatoes; corn and tomato salad with feta and lime; and a wonderful, crisp Sauvignon Blanc that made the flavors burst on the palate like tiny star explosions.

After the meal, they stood looking at the sea, glasses of wine carefully balanced on the wooden railing, the soft lapping of the water the only sound to break the silence. The indigo colors of the descending evening, deep sapphire blues and violets, coexisting with but little by little taking over, the fiery oranges and reds of the lingering sunset.

It was breath-taking. Eerie, magnificent beauty. The world seemed balanced on the edge. Nature held its breath, giving free reign to a potent, magical time. Waiting for something to happen, a border to be crossed, the mundane to become extraordinary.

Hutch could feel it all around him. There was a vibration in the air, reaching deep into his bones with an otherworldly frequency that made his ears hum and his skin tingle. They were on the cusp of a transition, inhabiting an in-between space. What was shut was about to open.

He steeled himself, unwilling to speak for fear of breaking the spell but knowing somewhere deep inside this was the time. He took a fortifying sip of wine and grasped the railing with a trembling hand, steadying himself before turning to look at Starsky.

Starsky was gazing at the horizon, his profile in sharp relief. He could have been chiseled off of the same material as the twilight surrounding them. Hutch wanted to touch him, trace the line of his jaw with his fingers. Make sure he was corporeal, made of flesh and bone, not of smoke and shadow.

He clenched his right hand into a fist at his side to stop it from reaching out. He opened his mouth without knowing what would come out, his brain unable to form a cohesive conversation starter.

“If you want something,” he heard himself say, “just reach out and grab it.”

His inner self winced. Where that had come from he had no idea. He only hoped he didn’t sound as demented as he felt.

Starsky turned his head to look at him. Hutch forgot to breathe. Starsky’s eyes were the color of dusk. Stars seemed to swirl and twinkle in them, making Hutch more certain than ever that he was in the presence of a cosmic being.

Instead of shattering, the spell grew more intense, keeping Hutch bound in the pregnant moment. He was drowning in the galaxies of Starsky’s gaze, transported out of time and space. A single moment lasted eons, and he was hurtling towards his demise or salvation, towards whatever was asking to be born.

Starsky looked at him, searching his face. His unearthly eyes burned Hutch to his core, keeping him frozen on the spot, a deer caught in the headlights of Starsky’s hypnotic presence.

The world held its breath. Starsky raised his hands and cupped Hutch’s face. Hutch’s heart skipped a beat and then fell to hammering a fierce tattoo that echoed on his ribs, reverberating through his whole body. The world shuddered and released its collective breath.

Starsky’s hands were gentle as he tugged Hutch to lean down, his thumbs tracing tender circles on Hutch’s cheeks. Starsky’s lips were warm and soft, like rain on a summer night. Hutch blossomed like a flower under their pressure.

Starsky drew back enough to be able to see Hutch, still holding and stroking his face. “I wasn’t sure you loved me this way until a few weeks ago. And then I wanted to wait for the perfect moment. I figured that would come during our vacation. If I couldn’t find the perfect time, I would create it myself somehow.” His voice was low, thick with love and passion. “Then today I knew I’d have my chance. I could sense it in my veins, in my blood. Do you know what I mean? I think you do. It all felt mystical. The glorious meal, the majestic sunset, the whispering sea, the unreal sky. And you… you looked like something out of a fairy tale. An elven king or a Greek god.”

Starsky’s hand slid down Hutch’s arm until it found his still clenched fist. With light, affectionate movements, he prodded Hutch’s fingers to open. He brought the open palm to his lips and left a delicate kiss at its center, then moved the hand down and backwards, telling Hutch to embrace him without using words.

Hutch, remembering his other hand was still clutching the rail, let go and, with a fluid movement, put both arms around Starsky, hugging him tight. Starsky hummed his approval. “Hold me, baby. Never let go.”

“Kiss me.” Hutch was breathless. “Don’t ever stop kissing me.” His whole body thrummed like a tuning fork that had been struck on the edge of eternity.

“Never. Kissing you is the closest I’ve ever been to God. The closest I’ve ever come to touching divinity,” Starsky said before his mouth sealed Hutch’s.

Hutch sighed and his lips parted. His mouth opened, inviting Starsky’s tongue in, allowing it to slip inside and caress his own. He could taste the wine and, underneath, a unique sensual flavor that was all Starsky.

The kiss exploded into a ball of fire that filled his mind, his soul, his whole being. A river of molten lava that burned and healed in equal measure. He moaned, long and desperate, and Starsky deepened the kiss. Their tongues danced together, sliding, stroking, finding spots that made the knees weak and sent jolts of electricity to every nerve ending.

The edges of reality blurred and everything fell away. Nothing existed outside of their private bubble. Starsky and he were the only two people left on the planet, locked in an endless kiss. Nothing else made sense. Nothing else mattered. The whole world contracted and shrank, centered around their heartbeats.

At the touch of Starsky’s soul, his own opened up, welcoming its mate, and at that point, Hutch had an epiphany, a profound revelation: he and Starsky were one. One soul split into two bodies. Two hearts that shared one heartbeat. Longing for unity, always looking for their other half, never finding fulfillment in others, they were forever drawn to each other. And now the pieces were finally in their right place, becoming a whole, becoming complete.

The realization shocked him and, at the same time, filled him with unutterable joy. He gasped into Starsky’s mouth and withdrew from the kiss with a final peck on the lips. He touched his forehead to Starsky’s, his nose on Starsky’s cheek. He ran his fingers through Starsky’s hair, relishing the soft, velvety feel.

“My soul, I love you.” His words were dripping with tenderness and affection, sweeter than honey. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He felt dizzy and lightheaded, overwhelmed with happiness.

Starsky tightened his hold, wanting to get closer even though they were already flush with each other. “I love you so very much. Look at me.”

Hutch drew back a little and looked at Starsky. Night had fallen while they were kissing, and they were bathed in the moonlight. Starsky seemed to glow with an inner light. There was so much love in that beloved face, love Hutch was sure was reflected on his face too.

“God, you are so beautiful. Your eyes are luminescent. You look ethereal, like a silver mirage. I don’t want to blink for fear you might disappear.” Starsky’s voice was an awed whisper.

“I’m not going anywhere, my love. I’ll spend the rest of my life by your side, loving you and making you happy. I promise.”

Hutch stroked Starsky’s hair and buried his face in it. He inhaled, breathing Starsky in like oxygen. Starsky melted in Hutch’s arms. “You complete me,” he whispered. “You’re my home. You always have been. I don’t ever want to be separated from you.”

“You won’t. We belong together. We are two halves of the same whole. I don’t know what happened here tonight, and maybe I couldn’t understand it even if I knew, but whatever it was, there was magic in it. Just like there’s magic in you. My magic man.”

Starsky laughed against Hutch’s neck. “I’m magical; you’re mythical. A match made in heaven!”

“That we certainly are, darling.”

Hutch smiled and kissed Starsky’s cheek. There would be time later on to talk about everything; feelings, thoughts, everything that went on before. And everything they would like to happen in the future. Wishes, dreams, all they hoped for. For now, being together like this, enjoying their love as more than friends, was enough. Starsky was his universe. Looking at his smiling face, his sparkling eyes, made him feel like he was holding the answers to the mysteries of the cosmos in the palm of his hand. They had all the time in the world to unravel them. And he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that nothing would ever come between them. Not even death.

A shiver ran down his spine at the unbidden thought. A feeling like a premonition flooded his body. Like a message from the future sent back in time. Starsky noticed the intense shuddering.

“Hey babe, I think you’re getting cold. The breeze is chilly. Let’s go inside. Or I can go get your jacket if you prefer to stay out here. Maybe even a blanket?”

Hutch shook his head, seemingly to deny Starsky’s offer but mostly to clear his mind of the ominous feeling. “No, it’d be better if we went inside. We’ll be more comfortable for a make-out session. I require more kissing, you know.”

Starsky snorted. “Of course! Your wish is my command.” He gave a deep bow and took Hutch by the hand, twining their fingers. “Come on, Your Highness. Your loyal subject is eager to please you!” He said, beaming, and pulled Hutch toward the sliding doors.

The breeze took Hutch’s laugh and carried it with it, over the sea and far away. The sound of wind chimes made of crystal. On the railing, two glasses of wine stood forgotten, side by side.