An Unfolding

210

Something unexpected happens to Starsky and Hutch a week into a new phase in their relationship. Starsky tries to deal with it on his own, but will Hutch let him?

 

Originally published in Venice Place Chronicles VIII in 2008.

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All our progress is an unfolding …
You first have an instinct, then an opinion, then a knowledge …
Trust the instinct to the end, though you can render no reason.
  —Emerson

 

Starsky shut the door firmly and rotated the deadbolt, locking it securely. Turning, he leaned back resignedly and closed his eyes before letting go a strong rush of air from his lungs. After taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he opened his eyes and slowly, almost guiltily, looked around.

His apartment. It had been a long time since he’d set foot inside his place to do anything other than collect mail. It showed in the light layer of dust on his coat rack, and in the stuffy, stale air. The things he needed, like clothes, were all over at Venice Place along with his favorite records, books, and most of the plants he’d ever owned. All that remained here, that he could see from standing in his little foyer, were a few cactuses. Maybe they needed watering. Maybe he should bring those over to the apartment, too. His other plants had done so good in the greenhouse …

Starsky lowered his eyes and shook his head, amazed at his mind’s ability to distract itself and think about plants when there was so much more to do, to act on, to not think about.

Pushing away from the front door, he transferred the shopping bag he carried from his left hand to his right.

Walking over to the refrigerator, he pulled the door open. He cursed lightly. Nothing in there except a carton of baking soda and a few jars of condiments. He’d hoped for a leftover can of beer or two.

Closing the door, Starsky turned and set the bag on the counter. He opened the tap, letting the water run for a few minutes, and found himself wishing for a moment that he still had his water cooler. The wall looked so bare without it. Looking out the window instead, he started humming some inane tune he’d heard God knew where. He opened the cupboard that contained his glasses. Taking one, he filled it up with the cold water. He drank half of it with big, thirsty gulps and then rolled the glass against his forehead. Closing his eyes again, he savored the cooling, refreshing feeling.

Enough is enough, he thought. Ha! He remembered his mother always saying that to him. “Enough is enough, David. Enough is enough!” Then he’d been sent out west, only to visit his mother back in New York on one occasion, Nicky’s Bar Mitzvah. He remembered feeling a little resentful that the visit had everything to do with Nicky and nothing to do with the fact his mother had missed him. Ridiculous he knew now, but that was how he’d felt then.

I’m doing it again. Or rather his mind was. Taking any and all avenues to actively not think about what was in his bag and what he was there to do and what had happened last night. He could feel his face start to heat up as his thoughts just skirted the edge of the incident. If he was this uncomfortable with himself, alone, in his apartment, just barely thinking about it, how would he ever carry through with his plans?

By not thinking, of course, his brain taunted. Then he laughed. Once. But you’re the problem. Not really, Davey, my boy. Your problem is where the sun—

He quickly pushed himself away from the counter, grabbed the bag by its handles and made his way over to the couch. He threw himself down on the cushions and tossed the bag on the coffee table. He gulped the remaining water as if he’d just spent days in the desert.

Calm, he forced himself to think as he slowly, carefully set his glass beside the bag. He lay back against the pillows, closing his eyes. Calm, cool water, sweet fragrances, candy, sugar, lemonade, lemons, yellow, hair, yellow hair. He shot off the couch and felt more than a twinge in his side. Leaning sideways he grabbed at his cramping muscles, massaging them a little. Hell, that didn’t help at all. Checking his watch, he started. Almost time for his pills. Why do you keep running away from it? But damn he could procrastinate with the best of them. What’s the answer? He’d been up since before seven o’clock this morning and it was almost noon now; he had done very little except go for a walk, then he’d gone to the drug store, and then to his therapy session before coming home. Or here. His apartment, anyway. You ‘re not fooling anyone but yourself.

He hesitated to take his pills now, though, because the strength of them still made him a little drowsy, and he didn’t want to take his afternoon nap just yet.

There’s only one thing to do then. Yeah, yeah, I’m going. Irritated at himself, Starsky snatched the bag from the table and went to his bedroom.

He hoped Hutch wasn’t mad at him. Changing the subject again… No, that wasn’t right. He hoped Hutch wasn’t secretly truly disgusted with him and then mad at him. In that order. Sure, at first his partner had been reassuring and loving, and Starsky had tried to accept the genuinely offered comfort. But when that hadn’t worked, Hutch had changed his tactics, trying direct and forceful instead. And Starsky had tried to accept that, too. Still… it… it… what had happened last night had been totally surprising and embarrassing and, in his mind totally … well, totally something. He just didn’t know what to call it. He’d never experienced anything quite like that before.

And now Hutch had to put up with Starsky’s guilt. If he was, in fact, putting up with it. Starsky really didn’t know. This morning, he had simply left Hutch sleeping in his bed in Venice, slipping out just after dawn to go for his daily walk. A walk he normally took after a leisurely good morning kiss, breakfast, and Hutch’s departure for work. After the walk, he’d gone to the store. He’d made sure to leave a note before he left… yes, he was sure Hutch was mad at him.

Starsky opened his bag and upended the contents on his bed. He gave them a curious once over before turning and sitting down.

God, he was tired. Last night he really hadn’t slept well, and if he didn’t get his sleep, his body would remind him about it sooner or later. Physical tiredness allowed his mind to wander unchecked, and he found himself thinking about last night some more.

He and Hutch had started loving each other exactly one week ago yesterday. He used the term “loving” because so far, all their actions had involved only kissing and touching each other with their hands. Only? He snorted. Nothing with Hutch was ever “only.” It was like saying they were “only” partners, or “only” friends. And kissing Hutch… No, there was nothing “only” about their relationship with each other. And yesterday had been an anniversary of sorts.

The phone ringing startled him out of his thoughts, and before he could think, he turned and reached for the phone. Shit! What if it’s Hutch? “Yeah?” he asked tentatively.

“Starsky, my man.” Good. It was Huggy.

“What’s up, Hug?” Starsky asked.

“Nothin’ much. I’m surprised you answered the phone, though,” Huggy replied.

“Why? This is my—”

“Hold on a sec,” Huggy interrupted.

Starsky stopped as he heard the phone drop, hopefully on the counter and not the floor. A feeling of dread started to come over him at the thought that Huggy might have called for Hutch, and that his partner would come on the line any second now and—

“Starsky?” Huggy again.

“Yeah, I’m still here.” He hated being so apprehensive. Especially over Hutch.

“Yeah, well, I’m calling not only to see how you ‘re doin’ but to report to you know who that he don’t need to file a missing persons report and that he can go ’bout his day like he’s been doin’ for the last few months now.”

Starsky was silent.

“I can tell him that right?” Huggy asked, pushing.

“‘Course. Go ahead. And tell him I’ll see him tonight at his place,” Starsky finally answered.

“Why don’t you—” He heard banging and dropping sounds again, this time in the background. “Everything going okay there, Hug?” Starsky asked, grateful he could change the subject.

“New waiter. Tom, wait! Starsky, I gotta go. Talk to you later.” The phone clattered again before going dead.

Starsky hung the receiver up slowly. Maybe he could take that nap now since Huggy would report back to Hutch, and he didn’t have to worry anymore about someone showing up unannounced and looking in on him. Yeah, take that nap, put it off ‘til later.

Returning to the living room and taking the glass he’d used earlier, he headed to the kitchen again, pulling a bottle of pills out of his jacket pocket along the way. He shook two out onto his hand. Turing on the tap, he filled the glass and then downed the pills.

Back in the bedroom, Starsky hung up his jacket and toed off his shoes. Eyeing one of the innocent looking boxes on the bed, he picked it up and sighed.

This wasn’t something he’d expected when he and Hutch had started a sexual relationship together. But then, what did he really know about homosexual sex? Nothing. Not really. Oh, there were things he thought he knew.

Things that he remembered from when he was a kid. Things he and his friends would make fun of as if they knew everything about everything. Things that as an adult had always just evaded his conscious thoughts.

He could feel the pills starting to take effect as his eyes began fighting him for closure. Moving his purchases to the nightstand, he got into bed under the clean sheets. Starsky made a deal with himself that he would read the instructions on the boxes and take care of everything when he woke. Uh-huh. I will. Then he would get on over to Venice Place with dinner and wine and a shy smile. Hutch could be so easy sometimes. And he would say how sorry he was and that he knew Hutch truly loved him just as he would always love Hutch, and then Hutch would get all comforting and forgive him for leaving their bed so early that morning. Then, perhaps, they could start the new night where they’d left off last night.

Loving Hutch…that’s what everything was all about as far as Starsky was concerned. They’d been loving each other in one way or another for a very long time. Now the experiences they were sharing were extended beyond the usual, to the unusual. Unusual even for them.

~*~*~

Last night….

Starsky rolled over and put his empty wine glass on Hutch’s bedside table. “That was great stuff. I’m glad you think you know a thing or two about wine, but actually really don’t.” The two were lounging on Hutch’s bed, sharing the last of their wine that had been left over from dinner.

“Not really, so… Hey!” Hutch protested, punching Starsky lightly on the arm for the slight barb, a sappy grin on his face. Then he turned serious. “You know most of what I know is from the background checks I’ve been running for Simmons and Babcock’s case.”

Starsky grinned. He felt so relaxed, so content. Some of it he knew was the wine, the other was just being with Hutch again after his partner had returned home from a long day at work. He looked forward to every evening, especially now, sometimes even counting down the minutes until Hutch came home. It was boring being home alone most of the day. And Hutch looked so good lately that it wasn’t any wonder he missed him. Hutch was healthy, happy, and in love. Nobody shined love out of their soul like his partner. But still, he felt obligated to string Hutch along a little further.

“And the two-hundred-page book you brought home from the library the other day?” Starsky teased. “That wasn’t for you? For helping on the case?”

“I thought you might like to read something other than Louis L’ Amour’s latest.”

“Uh-huh.” Starsky said, taking Hutch’s glass away from him. Hutch gave it up with little protest. Starsky finished off the last sip and set it down beside the other one. “It could be that I’ve read a page or two,” he admitted, turning again to face his partner.

Hutch leaned up on an elbow, bringing their bodies closer together, his eyes bright. “Thought so. Did you really think,” Hutch said with a smirk on his face, “that after all these years, I wouldn’t be surprised when I walked through the door after work and you said, ‘Hutch, wait until you try some of this Malbec that I picked up at the store today.'”

Starsky chuckled and looked away.

“What’s that, I thought.” Hutch bent over his partner, forcing Starsky to lie flat on the bed and look at him. “Couldn’t let you know that I didn’t know what the hell it was. I wasn’t even sure it was wine.” Now they were both smiling. “So much for learning anything in that book, though I had you pretty convinced.”

“Sure. I usually know your bullshit a mile a way but you had me fooled on this one,” Starsky said. Hutch kissed him. Finally….

“And now we can learn about wine together.” Hutch nipped at his lips. “Along with other things…” Hutch kissed him again, his tongue aggressive, demanding, tasting him.

Starsky felt his partner’s weight press him more firmly into the mattress. He responded with a forceful demand of his own, arching up, reaching his arms around Hutch and hanging on to him tightly. The closer he could get to his partner, match their bodies together, the better everything was, he’d learned. Hutch responded with his own hands twining in Starsky’s hair. Their kisses were not gentle, nor were they all consuming. When they’d started this new phase of their relationship a week ago, Starsky had imagined that the two of them would end up tussling for dominance.

Starsky rolled them over so that they were both on their sides. And maybe someday they would. For now, they were both content to go slow, experiment, and learn what the other liked. So far, Starsky hadn’t found anything he didn’t like. Couldn’t imagine it, really.

They both moved their top hands down to each other’s waist. Hutch reached around and cupped Starsky’s right butt cheek while he tightened his own hand over Hutch’s hip bone. They both pulled closer, rubbing their growing erections together. The sounds of their kissing grew wetter, louder, as their excitement increased.

He also knew Hutch was holding back some because of his injuries. That, too, would pass. He was returning to light duty in a week and after that he planned on returning to the force in as good as shape as his new body would allow. Then the real tussling could begin. He could hardly wait.

Both men freed their hands and worked on shedding their clothes. On his feet quickly, done first as always, Hutch helped Starsky ease the ends of his pants legs over his feet, discarding the jeans by tossing them into a corner with their other clothes. Finally, both naked, they lay back heavily on the mattress, turning to their sides to face each other again. Without warning, Starsky’s stiff cock was possessively captured in a large, cool hand. He closed his eyes and whimpered, taking a moment to savor the wonderful feeling before reaching out to touch its mate.

Touching, always one of the best things between them. A hand on the shoulder, the nape of a neck, a pat to the tummy. Before, touching was a fulfilling, comforting, way to express thoughts and brotherly love. But now….

It surprised Starsky really. He wouldn’t have necessarily called himself a fast worker when it came to bedding his night’s companions, but he’d never spent so much time touching, rea1ly, truly touching before. With Hutch, touch had become more of a… an exploration. He couldn’t recall ever taking the time to learn every curve, every nuance of his lovers’ bodies before. Even now, there were places on Hutch that he hadn’t even begun to investigate. And there was a whole lot more pleasure in the discovery process than he’d realized. For him as well as his partner. He loved detecting details about how Hutch reacted to one thing or another. Or maybe it was just because it was Hutch.

They both started to stroke each other. “Like that?” Hutch asked, his voice a little breathless.

Starsky opened his eyes and stared. Hutch was lying on his pillow, face flushed, fair hair feathered out under his cheek, the pale blue eyes at half-mast, parted lips glistening. In other words, beautiful. Oh, God. Hutch tightened his hand momentarily, and Starsky groaned in response.

“I take it that’s a yes. I like what you’re doing, too,” Hutch said hungrily. Starsky twitched the corners of his mouth upwards, barely able to keep eye contact. “But let me get the lube real quick. It’s getting hot down there.”

“Hot, hot, hot,” Starsky mumbled, eyes now admiring Hutch’s long, lean body as he twisted and stretched behind him, getting the lube out of the nightstand drawer.

So far, they’d both been content to get off with hand jobs. But Starsky felt braver and bolder tonight, and he could feel the change in Hutch, too. Saw it in his eyes, felt it in his touch. There was hunger there—just now—before Hutch had released him and turned away. A need he couldn’t remember seeing before. Maybe tonight was the right time to take them along a different path.

“Here, get some,” Hutch said, opening the tube and squeezing a good-sized dollop onto Starsky’s palm.

Starsky quickly reached out to capture Hutch’s retreating cock with his newly slicked hand as his partner moved to return the lube to its resting place. That made Hutch laugh, and Starsky liked nothing more than hearing Hutch laugh. Unless it was Hutch coming, but that was a new sound, and he’d found he liked that one, too. “I like your laugh,” Starsky decided to tell him. He’d save the other piece of information for later.

“Hmmm,” Hutch rumbled, returning to him. They both started where they’d left off before getting the lube. “Hutch,” Starsky said a little anxiously after a moment had passed. The sensations and the feelings associated with them had almost reached the point of overwhelming him. He squinted, concentrating on what he wanted to say. He wanted to do something more risky, more daring, and he needed to say so now before it was too late and they’d have to wait a while.

“Yeah?” Hutch asked, looking down at the movements of their hands, teeth biting his lower lip, obviously focusing just as hard as Starsky was.

“Let’s try something different tonight. You ready?” Hutch looked up swiftly. As if by mutual consent, they both slowed their motions. Starsky could see Hutch’s readiness, the desire from earlier still there. Hutch seemed to be weighing some other thoughts in his head, however.

“What’d you have in mind?” Hutch asked, cautiously, yet clearly curious.

Their hands stopped moving, though both men didn’t let go of what they held. “Well…what would you say to…to…a-a blow job?” Starsky finally got out. Could I—

“Giving or receiving?”

That stopped Starsky short. He thought about it a moment. Giving or receiving? In his mind, going down on each other was naturally the next step for them to take with sex. Rub jobs, hand jobs, blow jobs, other…jobs.

Receiving. He’d only thought of giving. “I was thinking of giving you—”

“I want to do you. Do the giving first, I mean,” Hutch said without hesitation, the hunger in his expression suddenly replaced by barely contained eagerness.

“Oh,” Starsky said, slightly taken aback at the abrupt change. “Then we can switch positions.”

Hutch moved quickly. He sat up and grabbed the small towel they kept on the nightstand, wiping the lube off his hands, handing it to Starsky so he could do the same. Hutch then took the pillow he’d used, setting it up against the brass headboard. “Move,” he told Starsky. He took Starsky’s pillow as he rose to his elbows and joined it with the other. “Lean against those.” Starsky did as requested, scooting back and bending until he sat in a comfy half-slouch against the pillows and headboard. “That comfortable enough?” Hutch knelt on the mattress before him, hands on hips, looking very serious.

“Sure,” Starsky muttered, “it’s fine.” He gently wiped off the excess lube on his cock before tossing the towel aside. He was too bewildered by the swift maneuverings of his partner to say anything more.

Next, Hutch positioned himself between Starsky’s legs and lay on his stomach, eyes bright. That brought Starsky quickly out of his fascinated state. Hutch looked like this was where he’d wanted to be for some time now. At least it confirmed to Starsky that what he’d seen in Hutch earlier tonight was right on target; Hutch had been thinking along the same lines as he, probably way before tonight. Seems I’ve been slow at reading your willingness to try something different. Big Blintz, shoulda said something.

Starsky gave him a big smile. “No rush or anything, Hutch. I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for…”

But Hutch wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was focused on Starsky’s still engorged cock, looking at it like it was the final clue to solving a particularly hard case. “Bend your knees up.” He grabbed one of Starsky’s legs, placing his foot flat on the bed. Starsky followed the instructions with his other leg. Then Hutch surprised him again by moving over and getting the lube once more. Hutch glanced at him with a restless look as he settled once again between Starsky’s legs. “Just in case,” he said.

Just in case what, Starsky wasn’t about to ask. It was so fascinating watching Hutch act and react to him in this new situation that he didn’t want to spoil whatever Hutch might throw his way. He trusted his lover and knew he didn’t need to worry about Hutch going further than either one of them was ready for. If it did get too heavy, he knew that one word from him would stop Hutch. “Then I’ll just relax, buddy. But if you want me to do anything, let me know. I may be receiving this time, but we’re still in this together.”

“Yeah,” Hutch said. “Together.” Hutch stared at him a moment longer with something like awe, before turning his attention once again to Starsky’s cock.

Reaching out, he grabbed Starsky’s shaft, holding on tightly. He squeezed it a few times before he moved his hand lightly up and down, rubbing his thumb up and over the flared crown, catching the pre-come gathered there. It felt so teasingly wonderful that Starsky had to let go a quiet moan, as he settled himself more languidly against the pillows behind his back.

Soon Starsky reached out his own hand and stilled Hutch’s. “You need to stop doing that,” he said. “Or we won’t get to the other part.”

“Sorry, buddy. I just love watching you. When I get my mouth on you, it won’t be so easy to do.”

“Ah, Hutch.” Starsky smiled, rubbing his thumb once over Hutch’s full lower lip. His mouth… And before he could say more, his cock was engulfed in that wet, warm mouth. “God-d-d…” He tilted back and pushed his hips up lightly. He could feel Hutch back off a little before sliding his lips down around his cock again, taking him as deep as he could. Starsky could feel the cautious beginnings of Hutch trying to suck him. Then the lips tightened and released a few times before traveling back up to the head where they repeated the metrical squeezing. Hutch did it a few more times, and it seemed to Starsky that he was almost measuring him, deciding just how much he could take, how much he could reach, how hard he could suck.

Hutch stilled a moment and Starsky looked down at him to see what would happen next. Hutch was fumbling with the lube. Starsky reached down and combed his fingers through Hutch’s fine hair, moving with Hutch as he pulled free of his cock. Hutch got the tube open and squeezed some in his right hand. Throwing the lube away over his shoulder, Hutch moved to take Starsky’s cock in his mouth again. Starsky left his hand in Hutch’s hair and relaxed once more into the pillows.

Almost immediately Hutch started taking him with confidence, all unsure handling a thing of the past.

Starsky took short, panting breaths, trying to match his hip movements with Hutch’s sucking, trying to give Hutch the best experience he could. Their timing was impeccable. The building sensations were incredible. Hutch held onto his cock with his left hand and used his right to explore his balls. Hutch’s mouth was just wet enough and tight enough to… He felt around for Hutch’s jaw and then moved his fingers up, feeling Hutch’s hollowed-out cheeks.

God, that was beautiful; it felt beautiful. He looked down at Hutch a moment to watch the mouth stroke him. It looked beautiful, too.

“Oh, man, that’s good, babe,” Starsky couldn’t help saying. “You’re…I don’t even know…” He laid his head back and thoroughly gave his body over to his partner, moaning his pleasure loudly, giving Hutch all of himself.

Starsky purposefully shifted his focus off his cock for a moment and concentrated on feeling Hutch’s hands work him. God, how he loved the feel of those hands covering his skin. And they covered so much of him. The hand on his penis was squeezing rhythmically around the base of the hard shaft much like his lips had done earlier, the hand on his balls moving lower now. He could feel the rough pads of Hutch’s fingers pressing on his sensitive skin, rubbing, rubbing… touching inside his thigh and then moving back, sometimes scratching with his short nails ever so lightly. Then…oh, then! Hutch moved to his anus. Starsky tensed for a moment, his hips stilled. I was only thinking about getting sucked off Am I ready for this?

Starsky sat up slightly and looked down at his partner again. Hutch slowed all his movements, seemingly waiting for permission to continue. Hell, that’s exactly what he’s doing and you know it. What’s my answer? I don’t know. I wasn’t really thinking about this when I suggested we go further tonight. Starsky realized that Hutch’s mouth had left his cock. I’m taking too long. He’s waiting. What’s my answer?

Hutch looked at him. “Whatever you want to do or don’t want to do is okay with me, Starsk. You know that. I was thinking of only touching you down here with my hands, m-maybe…ah, touching you a little inside, too.” Hutch’s face softened into a sentimental smile. “If you want to wait, that’s fine. I’ll continue with what I was doing before.”

What do I want? Starsky looked intently at his partner. I want to love Hutch, all of him. All of him. Outside and in. So then he wants to do the same to me. Okay.

“Okay, babe,” Starsky whispered, nodding once, giving Hutch the go-ahead, realizing with his consent that he’d deeply yearned for that more intimate and personal touch with Hutch anyway, and hadn’t really known how to get it. Now this next step was upon him. To have Hutch love all of me like I want to love all of him.

Hutch’s face lit up for an instant, but then he got right back to what he was doing, moving as if worried Starsky might change his mind. He leaned over on his right elbow, pushing Starsky’s left leg over. Then he scooted a little farther down the bed. “Spread your right leg a little wider and let your knee fall sideways. Keep your feet apart. Not too much.”

Starsky did as instructed. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t take me away from you now, or ever. This…this deliberateness of Hutch’s still amazed Starsky.

Hutch started at his balls, squeezing and pulling them carefully. “Feel good?” Hutch asked, looking up.

“Mmmm,” Starsky answered, nodding.

The hand stopped. “Then relax again.”

“Huh? Oh.” He was still sitting up. Starsky gave Hutch a sheepish smile and then collapsed backwards dramatically against the pillows.

Hutch laughed. “You turkey.”

Starsky closed his eyes and felt Hutch roll over to the other side, knocking his left leg over even further, the position of his legs now in a wide diamond shape with Hutch between his feet. Hutch tongued Starsky’s balls first, kissing and licking them timidly, his hand moving further down to touch his anus again. He still had a small amount of lube on his fingers, and Starsky could feel the smoothness as Hutch’s fingers glided over his opening.

The first touches tentative, Hutch started by lightly stroking the folds of wrinkled skin. Starsky found the muscles down there hard to control. Most of the time he felt relaxed, but when Hutch fingered the exact center of him, his muscle contracted. He breathed easily, trying to loosen up and focus on the sensations created by being touched down there.

“God, it’s so…sensitive. Whatcha doin’ feels really good though,” Starsky said truthfully. “I guess there’s lots of nerves there.”

“Yeah? Yeah, there is,” Hutch confirmed, abandoning Starsky’s sac for a moment. “You really like it?”

“‘Course I do, baby blue. Feels great.” Starsky squirmed a little. “I, ya know, wasn’t sure I would. But it’s good, great. Just keep going…”

Hutch began to mix up his motions. First, he would touch light, slow, and sensuously, and then change to purposeful and exact. It was just so damn sexy to be touched there. What they were doing felt so forbidden, so…so illicit. He felt his cock, half-hard the last few minutes, filling fast. Hutch clutched the expanding organ with his other hand, squeezing it. Starsky didn’t know how much more turned on he could get without having an orgasm.

Just as he gained some control over his excitement, and began to feel comfortable with Hutch’s actions, his partner pushed a little harder against his opening, pressing his finger through the first ring of tight muscle.

Starsky sucked in a deep breath. “Oh, man.”

Hutch responded immediately, but not how Starsky expected. “Hold your breath for just a few seconds longer, babe. Then I want you to try and tighten your butt muscles.”

Easy to hold his breath as he was already doing that, Starsky found by focusing hard he could tighten his muscles around the invading finger, too. At least he thought he’d tightened the right ones. It was actually kind of hard to tell.

“That’s it,” Hutch said. “I can feel that.”

“You can?” Starsky asked around his held breath, his voice taut.

“Sure,” Hutch soothed. “Now let it all out. The air from your lungs… that’s it, blow it all out. Try to relax all your muscles at the same time. All of them. Arms, back, legs, butt. That’s it. Good. I can feel that, too.”

Starsky felt the finger move out and then into him again. This time the penetration was a little easier. “Tighten your muscles again,” Hutch instructed. “Try to breathe normally, or if you need to, take a big breath again and let it out.” Hutch’s voice was so soft, so lush. Starsky would obey that voice anytime, anywhere, for anything.

“Take your time, there’s no rush. I want you to feel comfortable.” Starsky breathed again, concentrating on Hutch’s instructions.

“That’s it. 1 can really feel you loosening up. You know, you have two muscles here, and you can learn to control both of them with practice.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Starsky asked.

“Well, it’ll all help with…ah, our new…ummm, with what we’re doing now. And for later. When we…you know.” All of a sudden, Hutch sounded unsure.

Starsky looked at his partner. “And you want to ‘you know’?”

“Yes. Very much,” Hutch said with such sincerity it almost made him melt. Starsky was sure they would get there someday. Maybe soon. If it felt anything like this, he’d happily let Hutch put something bigger than his finger into him.

“Where’d you learn all this stuff, anyway?” Starsky asked.

“Well, there might be a few other books I’ve brought home that you haven’t seen yet.” Hutch smiled at him. “Now settle down again and don’t think about that. Concentrate on what I’m doing now instead.”

”No fair. You’ve been studying.” Starsky took another deep breath and let the air out slowly, closing his eyes. He continued to let go of his body further, trying to give Hutch everything he asked for.

“You’re doing a great job, Starsk. I can really feel how much more relaxed you are in there,” Hutch said. “I can really feel the difference.”

Starsky could feel Hutch moving his finger around inside of him now. He’d come out part way, curl his finger a bit and push in again, twisting it. He wasn’t in far, maybe an inch or so.

“I’m going to go in deeper, ‘kay? Then I’ll blow you,” Hutch said.

“Whatever, whatever…” Starsky trailed off.

Hutch chuckled. “That’s my boy.”

Starsky felt ready for anything. He was happy, felt loved. I don’t think another man has ever been as lucky as me. To find such a lover as I’ve found in Hutch. To have a lover like Hutch. Who already loved me. And to have all this new stuff to explore together. Almost like we’re both virgins again. And in a way we are. I can hardly wait to return all this lovin‘ and good feelings back to him. He deserves it so much.

The finger entering him went deeper. He couldn’t really sense it touching the far insides of him, but he could feel his anal muscles stretching and a slight sense of increased pressure. Then Hutch’s palm cupped the insides of his butt cheeks, his finger inserted all the way to its base. Hutch moved his finger in and out then, finger fucking him slowly. God, it felt wonderful. Starsky moaned around the action. No, more than wonderful. Starsky could feel his muscles starting to contract again and quickly tried to loosen them. It would take some practice to learn how to control those. But he was more than willing to take the time. More than willing if the practicing felt this good. Hell, if Hutch—

Suddenly, Starsky felt the mattress shift and a quick kiss hit his lips. “Stay there.” Then Hutch was off the bed and gone from the room.

Starsky sat up, a little dazed. What? Stay? He could hear the water turn on in the bathroom. He was about to yell back at his partner and ask him if anything was wrong when Hutch re-appeared in the room. In his hands he carried a wet washcloth. Starsky could smell soap. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Hutch said as if he meant it.

“Something happened. You wouldn’t up and haul-ass out of here, leaving me sprawled on the bed if nothing had happened,” Starsky said. He began to feel uneasy. “What’s that for?” he asked, pointing at the washcloth. “We already have one here for later.”

Hutch sat beside him. “I just realized that if we’re going to…delve deeper into each other’s bodies that we might want to, um…be ready for what we might find there.” Hutch grimaced as if what he said wasn’t really what he’d wanted to say, or how he wanted to say it. He tossed the towel toward the nightstand.

The feeling of unexpected exposure came over Starsky. Gathering up part of the top bed sheet, he began to wrap it around his body. “Is that what happened? You find something up my ass you didn’t expect to find? I don’t know how you can really know what to expect. You read something in one of those crummy books of yours and decide not to tell me about it? You decided not to warn me? Thanks a lot!” He not only felt exposed, but he started to feel humiliated, too.

“Starsky, stop that.” Hutch pulled at the bedding Starsky was trying to hide behind.

But Starsky wouldn’t budge. He rolled out of the way of Hutch’s hands and stood up on the far side of the bed, sheet secured tightly around him. “Just…just tell me.”

Hutch stood up and looked at him. He brought his hands up, surrendering. “Okay.” Hutch cleared his throat. “Um…”

“Hutch!” Starsky rumbled at him.

“Okay, okay! When I was, was moving in and out of you I noticed a little… some stuff on my finger. That’s all, no big deal. I went and washed it off. There wasn’t much, okay? You’re fine. I don’t care. I brought the towel out so I don’t have to leave the bed next time. See? No big deal. If it were, I’d ask you to take a shower, or, or something…”

Mortified, all Starsky could do was stare at Hutch, his gaze widening with comprehension.

“I don’t care,” Hutch said pointedly, eyes sure and steady.

But Starsky did. He felt his skin get hot, his face flushed. He took a wobbly step backwards.

“Starsky!” Hutch said, lunging over the bed, reaching for him.

Starsky turned and jumped down to the floor before he fell. He had to get away. He had to think. But Hutch was there, holding him by the arms, trying to make eye contact.

“I don’t care,” Hutch repeated.

“I do!” Starsky yelled. “And I can’t believe you don’t. It’s-it’s gross!” He tried to break the hold Hutch had on him.

“Not to me it isn’t,” Hutch said, refusing to let Starsky turn away.

“I don’t believe you. I…” I don’t know what to say. Starsky stilled.

“I love you,” Hutch said softly.

That made Starsky look up. Evidently you do.

Hell, he knew Hutch loved him. It was there, now, in his eyes, like always, like it’d been for years. And he knew deep down that it would take a whole hell of a lot more than a little bodily waste product to ever change that. He just felt…felt…ashamed. He knew he shouldn’t, that Hutch didn’t want him to, but he couldn’t help it. The night had gone so well. Hutch had been making him feel so good. Hutch was, well, Hutch was everything to him, and now he felt like he’d ruined all the new and good things they’d created so far between them. How could he ever start it again now? Without this memory re-surfacing? He’d have to find a way, somehow, somewhere. But not tonight.

Tonight he wanted to go hide and forget that this whole thing ever happened. “I’m sorry,” Starsky finally said quietly.

“For what? There’s nothing, not anything you’ve done that—”

“For ruining everything,” Starsky said incredulously.

“Starsk,” Hutch said, pulling him into his arms.

Starsky relented and let himself be taken. He didn’t want to fight about it. He held onto Hutch, still feeling the shame.

“You didn’t ruin anything. I told you it doesn’t bother me, and I don’t want it to bother you, either.” Hutch moved a hand into Starsky’s curls, pressing his head against his shoulder. “It’s something that might happen from time to time, okay? With either of us. We’re still learning about all of this stuff. Don’t let this make you feel bad or embarrassed. I sure don’t want this to be something that dampens our enthusiasm for loving each other.”

“Me, either,” Starsky said.

“Good. If we agree on that point, we can easily work it out, right?” Hutch asked.

“I guess,” Starsky said. He knew he didn’t sound convincing, but Hutch let it go.

“Let’s get back into bed, okay?”

Starsky nodded yes, knowing Hutch would feel his motion. They took a few steps away from each other. “You need to give me the sheet back first, dummy,” Hutch said, holding out his hand.

Starsky smirked. He needed that: first an “I love you” and then a little Hutchinson name calling. It helped bring things back into perspective. At least a little. He peeled the sheet off and handed it to Hutch. “Be right back,” he said, hurrying for the bathroom.

Hutch grabbed his arm before he could take more than three steps. “Don’t, don’t do anything, okay?”

“Geesh, I’m just goin’ to brush my teeth. Haven’t done that yet.” Starsky stared at Hutch and he could see that his partner didn’t believe him for a second, so he smiled and decided that yes, he would only brush his teeth. Hutch could read that decision in his eyes and let him go.

Once in the bathroom, Starsky shut the door, grabbed his toothbrush and added toothpaste. He turned around and stared at the shower while he brushed his teeth, then spit in the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He looked in the mirror. How could I have let something like this happen? I know we’ve helped each other through some situations before where we ‘ve had to take care of… of bodily things. But that was different. This time we were making love, pleasuring each other. How much more unpleasant could I have possibly made it? Easy, I couldn’t have. Shit … He could see his face turn red as he thought about what happened.

“Hey.” Hutch opened the door.

Starsky jumped back. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“I just came to brush my teeth, too,” Hutch said, getting his toothbrush. “You always close the door when you brush yours? I hadn’t noticed that before.”

“Ha, ha,” Starsky said, evading the question and brushing past his partner to go back to the bedroom.

Once there, he got into bed and turned off the lights, rolling over to sleep on his side, facing the greenhouse. Starsky closed his eyes. Don’t think, don’t think... Another minute or so and Hutch came back into the room. He was quiet. Fiddling with something on his dresser, Starsky thought. Now he’s at the nightstand. Probably putting the lube away. Bet he’s glad we ‘re not doing anything more with that tonight. Starsky sighed and squirmed in the bed. He couldn’t seem to find any comfortable position.

Then the mattress dipped behind him as Hutch got into bed. Starsky stiffened, unsure what Hutch was going to do, and even more unsure of his reactions. He thought Hutch might hesitate, move slow, uncertain himself what to do when encountering Starsky’s stiff back. But he didn’t. He scooted right up behind Starsky, spooning him tightly.

Hutch nuzzled his neck behind his ear. “Mmm,” he hummed.

“Hutch, I don’t want to do anymore tonight, ‘kay?” The nuzzling tickled and he scrunched up his shoulder trying to get Hutch to stop.

“Yeah,” Hutch said, moving to kiss the back of his neck.

“I mean it, Hutch. Stop it,” Starsky said with annoyance.

Next thing he knew, he was lying flat on his back, Hutch looming over him. “Look, stop this right now! I. Don’t. Care. I love you. All of you. Every part of you. From your beautiful thick curly hair, to the shit in your ass, to your funny broken little toe. All of you, David Michael Starsky!” Hutch’s eyes flashed real anger.

Starsky stared, taken aback at the intensity coming from his partner. He didn’t want Hutch angry, he just wanted him to get amnesia for real this time and forget this had ever happened.

“You really think my hair is beautiful?” Starsky asked as innocently as he could, trying for a diversion.

Hutch collapsed, partly covering him, head buried in his own pillow, clearly exasperated. “What am I going to do with you, huh?” He pushed up on his elbow and looked at Starsky again. “Seriously. You believe me, right? About what I’m telling you?”

“Of course, I do. And I know you’ll always love me. Like I’ll always love you.” Starsky reached up a hand, trying to iron out the line between Hutch’s eyebrows. “I’m getting tired though, the wine, everything. Let’s get some rest, huh?”

Hutch leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips. “Sure.”

They got comfortable, Starsky still on his side and Hutch surrounding him with his arms and legs.

But Starsky didn’t sleep for a long time, too many thoughts floating around his mind. Hutch’s breathing soon evened out, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest tried to lull Starsky into the land of dreams, too, but it wasn’t going to happen. He stayed up most of the night trying to think of how to fix what was wrong with him. Maybe he should go back to the healthy diet he’d been on after getting out of the hospital. I don’t wanna change what I eat unless I really have to. But for Hutch I would. And he knew there were…things in the drugstore he could buy. Yeah, I’ll check those out tomorrow. And if he felt funny asking questions about how any of it worked, he’d just buy all of them and figure out how to use the stuff later in the privacy of his own home. It couldn’t be too hard.

People have been having, ah…that kind of sex for years. Say it! Okay, anal sex! You happy? People have been having anal sex for years, centuries, and there are things you can do about… about that stuff being in your body. Hell, surely this wasn’t the first time in the history of man something like this had happened. He’d find some way to take care of it, and then Hutch could forget tonight, and they could concentrate on loving each other without ever having to worry about anything like that ever ruining their fun again. All that really mattered to Starsky anyway was Hutch having fun and enjoying himself. And Starsky would do anything in his power to make sure Hutch did. Even change his diet if he had to.

His plans made him feel a little better, and he finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

~*~*~

Today….

Something was tickling his ear. Reaching up, he swatted at the annoyance. It stopped.

Sleep, sleep, sleep, Starsky thought. Blessed sleep. There wasn’t anything in the world he enjoyed more than sleep, so he tried to burrow further under his covers. Unless, his mind quickly amended before he got too comfortable, it’s sex. That woke him right up. He cracked an eye open. He was here in his apartment to do something, take care of something… what was it?

“You awake yet?” a voice asked.

Oh, no…Hutch. And then he remembered. Everything. Damn! Had Hutch seen the boxes he’d left on the nightstand? He curled into a tighter ball for a moment, wishing he could just fade away. What time was it? Did he oversleep?

“You must have really been exhausted, buddy,” Hutch said as he walked around to the side of the bed Starsky faced. “You’ve been asleep since I’ve been here. At least two hours. You feel okay?” He reached out a hand and touched Starsky’s forehead.

Starsky stretched, feeling the tight pull of his muscles, and looked up at his partner, always a welcome sight, even when he tried to hide. “What time is it?” he asked, his voice sleepy.

“About three o’clock. I don’t think you have a fever.” Hutch touched his own head, frowning. “I don’t, I don’t. I didn’t sleep well last night, is all.” He might as well be honest.

“Because of what happened?” Hutch asked softly.

“Of course not.” So much for being honest. “Why would you think that?”

“Because of those.” Hutch pointed over his shoulder.

Caught Starsky shifted, fell back, and blew air at his bangs. I really need to get a haircut soon.

“Starsk…” Hutch began.

“Wait a second, Hutch.” Starsky stared at the ceiling and gathered his thoughts. He wanted to make sure he got this right. “Listen.” He glanced over at his partner who was now sitting on the bed and looking down at him. “I know what happened last night didn’t bother you.”

“That’s right,” Hutch interjected confidently.

“But as I said yesterday, it did me. So, this morning—”

“We’ll talk about that early exit later,” Hutch said in a warning tone.

“—I went to the store and found some things that might, um, help me out, I guess.”

“I can see that.” Hutch nodded once.

He rolled over so that he was lying on his side, up on his elbow, holding his head in his hand. It was hard gathering thoughts with Hutch sitting so close. “You’re throwing a wrench in my plans, Hutch,” Starsky said, screwing up his face in disappointment. “I can’t concentrate when you’re staring at me like that.”

“Judging by what you bought, I can guess what your plans were,” Hutch said, ignoring his comment.

Starsky eyed him carefully. He looks tired from work today. Just how much should I lay on him? “Well…” he started.

“Don’t try and hide from me now. Or ever, for that matter. Tell me what you’re thinking about doing.”

Swinging his legs over the side and sitting up, Starsky said, “Right now I’m thinking about kissing you, that’s what I’m thinkin’.” Starsky leaned toward the luscious lips he couldn’t ignore any longer, taking the moment to savor the unique taste of his partner, and just enjoy being together again after a long day apart. Starsky broke the kiss. “How was your day?”

“Oh, the usual. Interviewing witnesses, doing background research…” Hutch shrugged his shoulders. “Dobey’s still keeping things pretty light while I work with what’s-his-name.”

Starsky reached up and wrapped a hand around Hutch’s neck, feeling the tension there. “Now I’m thinkin’ of massaging away your tight muscles.” He moved to sit behind Hutch, using both hands to work on the knots he found there.

“Hmmm… That feels good.” Hutch closed his eyes and leaned back into Starsky’s body.

“Remind me to thank the Captain next time I see him for keeping you out of trouble.” Starsky muzzled his partner’s neck. He could feel Hutch relaxing, obviously enjoying Starsky’s touch. Even though he knew full well that Dobey gave Hutch light assignments, police work, any kind of police work, was stressful. Now if he could just get Hutch to go home, he could get his plans for the evening rolling in the direction he knew would find them both relaxed and feeling good.

“Any normal day, your hands would make me melt, Starsk.” Hutch leaned away, turning to look at him. “But I’m on to you. Don’t think for a second I forgot my question.”

“Can’t you let me take care of you without all the analyzing?” Starsky asked.

“Not when we’re in the middle of something this important.”

Starsky felt his honest streak returning. “Okay then. What I really want is for you to go home, Hutch.” He got off the bed, tugging Hutch with him attempting to move his partner toward the front door. “I want you to wait there for me and I’ll be around in a couple of hours with food and some more wine. And be ready to be loved like you’ve never been loved before. Sound like a plan?”

“Stop trying to gloss things over with massages and food, Starsk. And, and the other thing. I won’t go anywhere or do anything until I think you’re being straight with me.” Hutch stood his ground, planting those large feet solidly near the end of the bed.

Starsky leaned forward and got into Hutch’s space, which, with Starsky doing the invading, was only about a quarter inch away from his nose. “Is that what you want? Me to be straight?”

“Stop with the double talk, Starsky,” Hutch said, irritation finally showing through. “It isn’t funny and you’re evading the question again. Again.”

Starsky stook back and said nothing, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling stubborn at the moment.

A finger came up and pointed at him. “All right then. I’ll tell you what you were going to do.” He looked at Starsky, seemingly waiting for a protest. When Starsky didn’t open his mouth, he continued. “The boxes make it very obvious. You were going to use them to cleanse yourself and then show up at my place all happy and perky—”

“Perky?”

“—and have us start out where we left off, thinking I’d be none the wiser that you had done something to your body without me.”

Starsky felt color rise rapidly to his cheeks.

“Ah-ha!” Hutch said triumphantly. “I was right.” He walked over and grabbed a box off the nightstand.

The silence stretched between them.

“Hutch…” Starsky started when the quietness started to drive him crazy.

“I’ve got a better plan, buddy,” Hutch said, still looking at the box, reading over the back panel. After another moment, he set it down. Slowly, Hutch turned toward him, and then he moved forward, stalking him, taking them both down flat onto the bed, tangling their legs together but resting most of his weight in his arms. “Listen good, Starsk. I’m only going to say this once because I’m tired of repeating myself.”

“I guess I’ll have to, since you’re insisting,” Starsky said, breathing shallowly; he waited for Hutch to continue.

“I love you and nothing about you disgusts me. But since this really, really bothers you, I’m willing to play it partly your way. If you want to use these things before we try something different, or at the very least, start off where we ended last night, then we will. But there is one thing you must absolutely let me do.”

The gaze boring into him awaited his answer. Starsky shook his head.

“I’m going to, in the most loving way possible, give you the enema you seem to think you need so much.”

Starsky’s eyes widened. “But, Hutch—”

“No,” Hutch said with finality. “No discussion. If you want to do this, we do it my way.”

Closing his eyes, Starsky took a big breath and tried to think. This wasn’t what he wanted. He’d wanted to be ready for Hutch. No mess, no fuss, just quickly clean out the lower half of his digestive track and go and seduce his partner with Hutch none the wiser. They were both still so new at this. He felt better when he could court Hutch a little, control the tempo of their lovemaking, set the pace, and decide what they should do. And up until now, Hutch had let him. Though, judging by Hutch’s reactions last night, Starsky had moved too slowly. Now what Hutch proposed… And it wasn’t that it seemed…dirty to him, more that it seemed so personal. Sure, Hutch had touched him there last night for the first time and Starsky had liked it, but if Hutch ended up doing the job he’d insisted on tonight, he’d have to look, really look there to see what he was doing. Clinically detached. In the full light of day. Starsky wasn’t sure he was up to that.

On the other hand, overriding all else, he wanted to do this to get his body ready for more intimate sex. And he wanted intimacy with Hutch. More than anything. The yearning for that closeness was more powerful than his feeling of awkwardness, he decided. Which bothered him more? he asked himself: What happened last night, or that Hutch wanted, no insisted, on doing this for him? It wasn’t even close. He would let Hutch do what he wanted because Starsky wanted to resume and expand their sex life no matter what. Besides…perhaps he could try and look at this in another, non-clinical way. Perhaps having Hutch do this to him might be sexy. It might even turn him on. To have Hutch’s big hands feeling him down there, parting him, inserting something foreign into his body….

“Hey!” Hutch interrupted his thoughts.

Snapping open his eyes, Starsky couldn’t stop the shy smile forming on his face.

“What’re you thinking about? I’m lying here, seriously, waiting for your answer and not thirty seconds later you’re trying to poke a hole through your jeans.” Hutch rocked his hips against the growing bulge. “Well?”

“Ummm… I’m thinkin’ that I’ll let you.”

“And that turned you on, huh?”

“Maybe,” was all Starsky was willing to divulge, still a little hesitant, a little bashful.

“Me, too,” Hutch said. “Very much.” Altering his position, Hutch kissed him full on the lips. Hands roamed over his body and Starsky returned the attention, kneading Hutch’s strong back, pressing them closer together. Kissing Hutch was…bliss.

All too soon Hutch pulled back. “Whoa there, buddy,” he said. Starsky followed the retreating neck with his lips as far as he could. “You know I could just lay here forever and kiss you, but we have other matters to take care of.” He carefully rose from his position lying atop Starsky and reached for his hand, pulling him upright, up off the bed.

Hutch dropped the hand and turned to pick up another box from the nightstand, his other arm going around Starsky’s shoulders. “You’ve got quite the collection here, Starsk,” Hutch said, holding out the box for Starsky to take.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know what to buy, so I bought one of everything.” Starsky tossed the box on the bed and slid his hands into his back jeans pockets, rocking up on his toes.

“Didn’t the guy look at you funny?” Hutch asked. “I would’ve.”

“Nah. I think guys who work in drugstores are used to people buying weird things.”

“But…one, two…five different types of enemas?” Hutch snickered, picking up another one. “Probably thinks you’ve got the worst diet in the world. And he wouldn’t have been too far off.”

“Hey.” Starsky elbowed him. “Don’t go makin’ me uncomfortable before we even start anything.”

“No. I’m sorry. It’s just that sometimes…” Hutch tossed the box next to the one on the bed and looped his arms around Starsky’s elbows, pulling him close. “Tonight, I’m not going to do anything but make you feel loved.” He unhooked one arm and moved around so that he was now standing behind Starsky. He re-hooked their elbows, lacing his fingers together and resting them against Starsky’s belly. He started walking them out of the bedroom. “And then guess what?”

“What?” Starsky asked, resisting the advancement forward just a little.

“I’ll cook us dinner this time,” the voice said into his ear. “I already have another bottle of wine chilling in the fridge. A French Rosé. Sound good?”

“A Rosé, huh? One of those pinky things? Sounds good,” Starsky said. Well, this night has officially gotten away from me. I was supposed to wine and dine him, not the other way around.

“You have much water to drink today?” Hutch asked, unaccountably changing the subject.

“Have I ever,” Starsky replied, remembering the water he’d consumed before taking his nap. “Got my proof right on the counter over there.” He pointed out the glass to Hutch, glad he didn’t have to hear another speech on the importance of keeping his body hydrated. “Gotta take a piss, too.”

“Good. Why don’t you drink some more and then meet me in the bathroom.” Hutch gave him a gentle push forward. Then he swatted Starsky on the ass. “Start stripping when you get there.”

“Watch it!” Starsky rubbed his offended backside. Grumbling about bossy blonds, he headed to the kitchen to drink as directed. Damn pills always make my mouth dry, he knows that. Always looking out for me, and I hate to admit it, but he knows what I need. Now I’m glad he’s here. I know he’ll do a good job with this. Alone, I’da probably chickened out, or put it off too long like I was doin’ earlier. The liquid felt good going down, and Starsky felt renewed as energy from anticipation flowed through his veins.

In the bathroom, Starsky was unbuttoning his shirt when Hutch entered carrying two of the boxes he’d bought earlier. Hutch set them on the sink. “The rest of the stuff you got isn’t necessary, Starsk. I’d just throw it all out.”

“What? That ‘stuff,’ as you say, ain’t cheap, you know.” Curious, he watched attentively as Hutch opened the box with the word “Fleet” on the outside.

Hutch took out the plastic bottle and opened the tapered end—very obviously the part which was inserted into the body. He opened the cap and then turned it upside down, spilling the contents down the drain.

“Hey!” Starsky protested, stepping closer. “What’re you doing?”

“You don’t want to use the liquid inside. It’s only irritating and drying to your skin.” He set the now empty container back inside the box and turned to face Starsky. “But you can use the bottle for quick jobs. If you don’t have a lot of time and want a quick rinse or something. Just fill it up with warm water and make sure you clean it real good after you use it.”

Starsky couldn’t help blushing. “What did you do? Read up on this stuff in your book, too?”

“Of course,” Hutch said matter-of-factly, as if this was a subject he instructed people on all the time.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Starsky said softly. He moved in front of Hutch, holding onto the hands that held the box. “I can’t believe you got a book and did all this research without me.”

“Well… I just wanted to make sure I was ready for anything… That I wouldn’t…I couldn’t…” Hutch’s earlier confidence seemed to waiver a little.

“Hutch, relax.” He took the box out of Hutch’s hands and set in on the sink. Trying to soothe his partner’s confession, he laced their fingers together and smiled. “I just want you to be honest with me. Why didn’t you include me? Did you think I couldn’t handle some of it?”

“No. It’s just…I just…I hate going into anything blind.”

“I know,” Starsky sympathized. “Sometimes you’d drive me crazy with all the researchin’ you’d do for a new case, like the time we were undercover at Cabrillo. Or when you went all healthy on me. That was the worst.” Starsky smiled to emphasize his joke.

“It’s a habit from my days in school, Starsk.” Hutch sighed. “It wasn’t only my parents that would put on the pressure for good grades. I’d put plenty on myself. I was the kid who’d buy the required textbooks way before classes had even started and already have at least the first few chapters read.”

“And now?” Starsky encouraged.

“Now, here we are, starting something so completely new that I felt I needed to find out all I could before we went down this different path.”

“Okay, but don’t you think that new path could have been more fun with me along? Even if I was there just to hold your hand?” Starsky could see the tension from earlier gathering once again in Hutch’s shoulders. He moved his hands there, massaging again, hoping to really make Hutch’s muscles melt this time.

“I’ve dreamed of loving you in every way ever since this whole thing began,” Hutch said, a wistful quality in his voice now. He closed his eyes and moved his head in small, slow circles. “When you suggested we go farther, try something different, well, I thought that all my longings were about to come true. Secretly? I’ve dreamed of even more, but I never let myself dwell on that too much.”

“It’s been the same for me, babe. I’ve got lots of dreams where you’re concerned. But I guess it’s taken me more time to process all these new feelings and emotions. Sometimes I can hardly believe what we’ve found, what we’re doing.”

Hutch stood up tall. Smoothly they altered their positions, standing nearly eye to eye, hands resting on each other’s waists. “I guess part of my eagerness and your… reluctance, not really the right word…hesitancy maybe…has more to do with the fact that I’ve read up on some of the ways and techniques to best make love to a man while you’ve been going along with what was comfortable for you at the moment, basing it solely on our shared experiences.”

“You said it, Hutch.” Starsky leaned in even closer to emphasize his point. “Our shared experiences. That’s always been key with us. The ability to share things. Now it’s just a new kind of sharing.”

“I guess…I think…” Hutch shrugged his shoulders. “Talking this all out I realize why I so wanted to be prepared: underneath it all, I was scared.”

“Ah, babe.” Starsky tucked a stray lock of hair behind Hutch’s ear.

“Relying on factual knowledge is the way I am, and I can see that relying on those facts made me reach some conclusions before you, like wanting to explore fellatio.”

“Makes sense,” Starsky agreed.

“Your way is to rely on instincts, and while I trust those instincts with my very life, because this is all so new.. I was worried that if you reached that certain point in our relationship first, I would be woefully behind. Then I might disappoint you.”

“Hey, I can’t think of any way you could possibly disappoint me, unless, after this little talk, you leave me out again.”

“I won’t do that,” Hutch assured. “But I still think we need to be prepared. Only next time, I promise I’ll grab your hand before I go.”

“Before we go, partner.” Starsky could stand it no longer, he hugged Hutch close. “It’s a promise we’ll both keep.”

“So, what do you say about starting those steps now?” Hutch asked after a bit.

“Yeah, all this talk of your dreams, and my dreams…” Starsky stood back; glad to see Hutch smiling and relaxed again. “Now?”

Hutch nodded, “Now.” He turned to pick up the other box he had brought into the bathroom with him. “This is the one we’re going to use.”

“All the advances of modem medicine and I bet that little baby hasn’t changed much in hundreds of years,” Starsky commented.

“Though I read they used to make it out of a cow’s bladder.”

“Yech!” Starsky laughed. He felt better now that they had talked through the small bump in their path. Hutch opened up the box and took out the contents, setting them on the back of the toilet.

Starsky narrated the unveiling in his worst Howard Cosell accent. “And in this corner, the afore mentioned rubber bag, joined by the hose, clamp, and two different ones of those things. The, ah,” Starsky cleared his throat, his voice returning to normal. “The nozzle attachments.”

Hutch picked up one of the attachments. “This one you won’t need, old sport. It’s for someone of the female persuasion, and since,” he glanced at Starsky, a smidgen of doubt suddenly clouding his eyes before clearing again, “we’ve changed teams for good, you can keep this in the bottom of the box under the instructions.”

That was his Hutch. It sometimes amazed Starsky how unsure of himself he could still be. Then again, they’d only been at this a week. One point, however, Starsky needed, wanted, to get across to Hutch absolutely: that there was no room at all in his life for anyone else ever, ever again. That’s right, buddy boy. Me and Thee in every way now. For always-in all ways.

“Nah,” Starsky said. “Why don’t we just toss the thing? I wouldn’t want to accidentally use it someday and have you thinkin’ things your gorgeous blond head shouldn’t be thinking.” Starsky took the nozzle and lobbed it across the room into the trash can. “Two points! Knicks win, Knicks win!” And though he was looking at his successful shot, he didn’t miss the way Hutch had closed his eyes, head nodding minutely to himself.

Hutch, now seemingly unconcerned, went over and sat on the edge of the tub, turning on the taps. “Wishful thinking, buddy, the Lakers are gonna win it all this year. With that draft pick of theirs, this’ll be their decade, just you wait.”

“Whatever you say, Minnesota boy,” Starsky grumbled, moving the items from the box closer to the tub. “Just because they used to be from your home state doesn’t mean you have to like them so much.”

“Yes, it does.” He ran his fingers under the water, testing it. “Can you get me your thermometer, Starsk? We have to get this water temperature just right. Too cold and it’ll cause cramping. Too hot and, well, I don’t think we really want to burn any skin.”

“No, we want it just right,” Starsky said, handing the instrument to Hutch. “I knew my idea of having you help me was a good one.” He waited for a reaction from his partner, surprised and a little disappointed when he didn’t get the outraged response he expected. Guess he’s keeping his promise of not making fun of me. A little verbal foreplay never hurt no one, though.

Hutch checked the temperature, reading the tiny line of mercury.

“How’s it looking, Doctor Hutchinson?”

“I think that should do it. Here.” He handed the thermometer back and then attached the rubber bag to the tub’s faucet. He glanced at Starsky. “I’m willing to play doctor anytime you are, but you’re still wearing your clothes.”

“You want a slow strip tease? Should I try and entice you a little?” Starsky asked, turning to look at Hutch over his shoulder, giving him a wink.

“I’ll settle for any way that’ll get you naked the fastest.” Hutch stood, moving his hands under the loose folds of Starsky’s shirt. “I’m tired of looking at you in all your clothes when there’s something so much more interesting underneath.” Starsky finished unbuttoning his shirt. Hutch pushed it off his shoulders.

“You really know how to sweep a guy off his feet with all…” Starsky’s voice trailed off as he watched the bag stretch as it filled with more and more water. Suddenly he felt a little nauseated. Would his intestines stretch like that, too? Surely that couldn’t be healthy.

Hutch seemed to read the anxious expression in his eyes. “I know, babe, but I’m filling the bag all the way to make sure we have enough. Your insides won’t look like that. We’ll actually use only what we need. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

Starsky shrugged. “I trust you, partner. I’m just thinking that cows must really be able to hold it a long time. If they want to.”

Hutch laughed. “Think about this instead: think about getting out of the rest of those clothes.” Hutch reached a hand down to squeeze Starsky’s ass, whispering in his ear, “From here on out, this area is mine to put anything I want into. Think you can take all I have to offer, Starsk?”

“I’m not sure anyone can take all you can offer, you big blond beauty, but at least I’m more than willing to try.” Starsky said.

“Will you go back to teasing me? I want to see that backside of yours in all its glory.”

Starsky began unbuttoning his Levi’s, slowly, the lust in him building from the energy in Hutch’s eyes. He could feel the half-hard mound of his genitals pop out of their confined space as he came to the last button. Turning his back, he hummed a few bars of “The Stripper” shaking his hips for Hutch before pulling his pants and underwear off. He turned back around.

“That better, Doctor?” he asked, holding his arms out, presenting himself.

“Hmmm, this whole night keeps getting better and better. This is exactly what I’ve been waiting all day to see.” Hutch shook his head as if coming out of a trance. “I set up a place for you on the bed. Go make yourself comfortable. I’ll be there in a sec.”

Starsky went toward his bedroom, peeking around the corner, unsure of what he would find there. You ‘re being ridiculous. Boldly now, he approached the bed and saw that Hutch had simply set up some extra pillows and laid out a few towels. On the nightstand where the boxes once stood was the new tube of K-Y lubricant he’d bought.

“On your right side, Starsk,” Hutch said from behind him.

“I know,” Starsky said, reaching to fluff the pillows. “Where’re you going to put that thing?”

“Did you really just ask me that?”

“I mean where are you going to put the whole thing, dummy, not just…that end.”

“I think the lamp should hold it okay,” Hutch said as he placed the hook from the top end of the stopper around the neck of the lamp, close to the base. It held.

“That’ll work?”

“Sure. We just need to keep it above your body so the gravity will pull the water down naturally.”

“Good, naturally is good.” Starsky said. Hutch gave him a peck on the nose, and another light swap on the rump. “Now?”

“Yes, now.”

Starsky arranged the pillows once more and then settled himself face down in the middle of the bed. He bunched a pillow under his forehead. From behind him, he heard Hutch sigh.

“God, Starsk.” Starsky felt the bed dip as Hutch sat and then a hand touched his mid back. “You ‘re so beautiful lying there just for me.” The hand moved down, a feather-light touch over the curve of his ass cheeks.

Starsky turned his head toward his partner. “I’d say the same about you, too, you know, but you’re fully dressed.”

“Later, later,” Hutch said wistfully, still running his hand over the curves. “I’ll strip, too, then I expect to hear lots of wonderful things about me.”

“Oh, you will, all right,” Starsky guaranteed. “You’re not the only one who’s been waiting all day to see his partner in the flesh. This how you want me, Hutch?”

“Actually, I need you on your side. Here, turn a little.” Hutch pulled on his shoulder, getting Starsky settled correctly. “Lift your left leg for a second. Bend your knee up. But keep your right leg straight.”

Starsky let Hutch maneuver him around to how he wanted him. A towel-covered pillow went under his left knee which was bent up close to his chest. Another pillow was settled against the length of his back, another one placed against his chest and under his left arm, which was resting comfortably out in front of him. His right arm curled around the pillow under his head.

“Hey,” Starsky said.

“Yeah?”

“This position reminds me of the hospital.”

A hand dug itself deep into his curls and massaged his scalp. “I know, buddy.”

“Are we ready yet?” Starsky asked, trying to sound a little put out. He hadn’t meant to put a damper on things by bringing up the shooting. The hand left his hair.

“You bet we are,” Hutch said enthusiastically, clapping his hands together once.

“You gotta give me a play by play of the action. I can’t see you from here,” Starsky said.

“Well, you saw me set the bag up, right? So, now all I’m going to do is lube the, ah, nozzle. See? Here it is.” Hutch pulled the hose over and held up the elongated plastic tip. “The clamp will keep the hose closed until we’re ready.”

Starsky felt some of the apprehension from earlier returning.

“I guarantee it won’t hurt.”

“Okay, then, let’s get it going. I’m more than ready to get this over with and move on to the good stuff,” Starsky said, closing his eyes and burrowing more comfortably against the pillows alongside his chest. He heard Hutch fumbling around some more, and then the bed dipped once again as Hutch added his weight to the mattress. The pillows at his back suddenly disappeared and smooth, warm skin pressed against him. “What?” he asked, raising his head, trying to look over his shoulder. Hutch had opened his shirt.

Hutch said, “For a moment I was so wrapped up in getting everything right, that I forgot I want to make this an expression of my love for you, not a sterile medical procedure. I want you to settle down and let me have my way with you.”

Smiling, Starsky said, “Go ahead, you sweet talker. I’m putty in your hands. As if you didn’t already know that.”

Hutch chuckled, and as Starsky settled comfortably again, he felt his partner’s hands move down his side and back, fingers and thumbs massaging muscles along the way until they reached his ass. There the large hands tightened and loosened alternately, gripping the firm buttock muscles, petting them, loving them. Starsky felt his cock responding to the contact and hummed his satisfaction.

Slowly, Hutch moved his body down along Starsky’s back, taking the same route his hands had earlier, his lips kissing, his wet tongue running over the notches of Starsky’s spine. When Hutch reached his lower back, Starsky felt him shift and reach upward. The lamp creaked as Hutch lowered it to just above the height of the bed. It clicked on; Starsky involuntarily tensed.

“Stay relaxed,” Hutch coached. “I need a little light to make sure I get everything at a good angle. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not,” Starsky denied. “Just startled me, is all.” He rolled forward, curling himself around the pillows even more. Then he felt Hutch’s hand pull his top cheek to the side. Oh, God.…

Hutch paused for a moment and then let go. A few seconds later, Starsky’s cheeks were parted again and a finger, cooled with gel, touched his anus. Starsky shivered. The finger circled his opening, much as it had last night, laying down a coating of the slippery stuff. Also like the night before, Starsky felt pleasure at being touched there, his cock getting harder from all the attention the sensitive nerves around his anus received. Lost in the sensation, he jumped a little when Hutch spoke again.

“That’s it, buddy, you’re getting good at relaxing down there. Try and stay that way.” The finger left him and Hutch shifted. “Here it comes. Let me know how it feels. And don’t take it if it hurts. Be honest with me.”

“I will,” Starsky promised. He felt the rounded nozzle touch his hole. But instead of pushing it right in, Hutch moved it around in a slow circle, again playing with the muscle at his entrance. Then Hutch pushed it lightly against his center. Starsky took a few deep breaths, knowing Hutch would see his attempt to stay calm. Hutch gave one more gentle push and Starsky felt the tube slide easily into his body.

“You doin’ okay there?” Hutch asked. “I’m in as far as we need to go.”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Starsky said truthfully. And it was; in fact, as they rested there, he only really felt the tube if he tightened his sphincter muscles. It was slightly erotic, too, as he’d suspected, his cock now rock-hard and wanting attention, also.

“You ready for the water now?” Hutch asked.

“Sure, I guess.”

“Like I said, I’m going to take it really slow. If you don’t feel anything, though, let me know and we’ll speed up a little.”

This isn’t turning out to be so bad. Hutch was so patient and so understanding of Starsky and his concerns that the whole… experiment was turning out much better than Starsky had expected. Certainly better than if I’d tried to do this all by myself Hutch sat up, kneeling at Starsky’s back, and at once Starsky missed the warmth of his partner’s body.

“Here it comes,” Hutch said.

Taking a big breath to help him loosen up further, Starsky let the air out slowly and felt…nothing at first.

Then fullness made its way into his awareness. “That’s it. That’s— not too fast now,” he said with a touch of uneasiness in his voice. “My stomach’s starting to feel full. The water’s not going all the way up there, is it?”

“No, it just seems that way,” Hutch said. “There, I’m slowing it down a little. How’s that feel?”

“Okay. It’s okay. Wait.” Starsky felt his face scrunch up as the beginnings of cramping hit his abdomen. He gripped the pillow under his head tighter. “Ah!”

At once Hutch reached over Starsky’s side and laid a hand on his stomach, rubbing the area gently. “Easy. I’ve stopped the water. Try to relax and take some more deep breaths. You’ll be fine,” Hutch whispered near his ear, soothing and comforting. “You’re fine…just fine… feeling any better now?”

The kneading motion helped and the spasms lessened; they’d never really taken hold too severely. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay now.”

“Okay, here’s a little more. Tell me when you want me to stop,” Hutch said.

“Hutch,” Starsky managed to get out between breaths. His partner stopped the flow again and after a moment, the constant massaging eased the tightening in his gut again.

“That feel okay there?”

“Yeah.” Starsky twisted his head, looking up at Hutch. “But now I really feel like I gotta go to the bathroom.”

“You’ve taken in just a little over a pint,” Hutch said, still rubbing Starsky’s tummy. “That’s enough, I think. But I want you to rest and hold the water for a couple of minutes. Then, we’ll go to the bathroom and you can let all the water out in the toilet.” Hutch carefully changed positions, trying not to jostle the bed. Once again, he stretched out against Starsky’s back, keeping contact with Starsky, not breaking the rhythm of his motions. “You’re amazing.” A nose brushed Starsky’ s ear, a mouth latched onto the lobe.

“Me? You’re the amazing one. All I did was lay here. You did all the work.”

“Wasn’t work. Was all pleasure.” The mouth continued its caresses, causing Starsky to quiver. “When we get you all nice an’ clean, can we start where we left off…?”

“You know it, Blondie.” That’s what I want too, babe. To replace last night’s memories with other, good ones. “I think I need to go to the bathroom now.”

“I’ II get the bag. You want to hold the nozzle, or do you want me to?” Hutch asked, back to business.

“I’ll get it,” he said. Starsky didn’t want to think how funny they would look scurrying to the bathroom with Hutch’s hand holding a tube coming out of his ass. He laughed anyway.

“Don’t, Starsk,” Hutch said quickly. “You laugh and all the water could come rushing out, and I’m not gonna clean it up!” He got off the bed and started removing the pillows. “Roll over on your stomach and inch over to the side here. Then get up slowly. I need to hold the bag just above your waist.”

Starsky maneuvered himself over to the edge. Right before he got to his feet, he reached back and, clenching his ass muscles as tight as he could, he gripped the tube and slowly stood up. “So far, so good. Let’s go.” They made their way to the bathroom quickly, Starsky heading right for the toilet. He sat, let go of the nozzle, which Hutch took, and then pushed a little, letting all of the water rush out of his body. “Phew, that’s more than weird.”

“I know,” Hutch said. “Makes you feel kind of light, or something, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Starsky said distractedly. And how is it you know, huh, Hutch? He rose from the seat, and using some toilet paper, blotted off the water clinging to his backside. Closing the lid, he flushed the toilet.

“And that’s, that. Not too bad, huh?” Hutch had put the whole enema, bag, hose, nozzle, and clamp in the sink. “I’ll wash this stuff later.”

“Not too bad probably because you’re here.” Starsky took Hutch around the waist.

“You’re a mushball at heart, know that?” Hutch said, returning the embrace.

“Hey, you’re the one who insisted he do that to me.” Starsky paused. ”And I’m sure glad you did. I really don’t know if I’da done it to myself, and if I had, I know I wouldn’t have done as good a job as you.”

“You’d have been fine. Knowing it was for me would have motivated you.” The confident smile lit up the room.

“Now who’s the mushy one?” Starsky kidded.

“How about a shower? I still haven’t cleaned up from work today.”

“Want me to help you with your clothes?” Starsky stepped backwards, his look taking in the long body from head to toe and back. “So I can start in on how gorgeous you are?”

Hutch’s smile widened even more as he reached for the folds of his shirt, but Starsky stepped back up to him, pulling his partner forward slightly and giving him a small kiss. Starsky reached inside the opened flaps of the shirt and laid his palms flat on Hutch’s chest, rubbing the palms of his hands up and down lightly, making the nipples hard. Hutch sighed in response. He closed his eyes and tipped back his head slightly.

Wanting to get to Hutch’s naked body as soon as he could, Starsky didn’t waste any time, reaching for the buttons of his jeans next. He pulled, opening the topmost button, and then grabbed the zipper, lowering it down slowly. Hutch opened his eyes and watched Starsky’s hands as they pushed his pants and underwear off his hips, unveiling his lower body.

“Step out,” Starsky said. He knelt down, tugging at the pant legs, helping his lover pull out his feet.

Hutch bent, reaching under Starsky’s arms, pulling at him until he was standing upright again. The kiss was slow and hot. Tongues fought with each other as they both tried to taste as much of the other as they could.

“Huuutchh,” Starsky broke away, voice long and low. Then Hutch kissed his way down Starsky’s body, running his lips over his collarbone, stopping to tongue a nipple, kisses landing every which way until they reached the highest of Starsky’s newest scars.

“Hutch,” Starsky said in a clipped manner this time. His hands reached for the blond hair.

But Hutch straightened before his partner could protest further. He walked Starsky backward a few steps until his calves hit the toilet seat, causing Starsky to sit down hard. Hutch dropped to his knees, settling himself between Starsky’s widely spread legs. He grabbed Starsky around the hips with one arm pulling him forward, trapping his cock between their bodies. Once again Hutch’s lips found the end of the scar, tracing its path with his tongue and leaving a trail of small, wet kisses until that scar intersected with another.

“Hutch, you don’t have to,” Starsky whispered, tears in his voice, overwhelmed. Up until this point in their loving, Hutch had touched his upper body all over, but he’d never singled out these reminders of mortality, instead treating his whole body the same, moving over the marred skin as if the scars weren’t there.

Finally Hutch looked up at him. “Aw, sweetheart,” he said, reaching out a hand to cradle Starsky’s face. “You’re right, I don’t have to, but I want to. Very much.” Then he chuckled, shaking his head, resting his hands on Starsky’s thighs. “Actually, there’s so much more I want to do to you that I get easily distracted. Let’s get into that shower now. Then I’m going to show you all the ways I can love all of you, scars and all.” They stood up.

“Yeah,” Starsky said, knowing that Hutch would more than meet his expectations, his dreams. “But I want to ask you something first.”

Suddenly, Hutch had a worried look on his face. “What?” he asked guardedly.

“From before, I want to know what you meant when you said you know.” Starsky couldn’t believe it, but for the first time since this all started almost twenty-four hours ago, Hutch blushed. “Huh?” he pushed. “Come on. You say you know how this feels.” He rubbed his hands up and down Hutch’s arms. Still Hutch didn’t answer. “This have anything to do with you knowing how to use all this stuff? You didn’t just read it all in your book, did you?”

Hutch shook his head no, finally making eye contact with Starsky. “I’ve tried most of this stuff on myself already,” he admitted.

“You have? Really?” Starsky asked, shocked. “I know our talk from earlier has helped, but I’m still sorry you did this all alone. I would’ve wanted to help you along like you’ve helped me.”

“I know you would, babe. But I only tried it once. You’ll find you don’t need to do this very often, if at all, really. You’11 begin to see how your body works now that we, uh, will be spending more time back there—”

“I’ve never really spent any time back there—”

“—finding all the ways we can make each other feel good. When the time is right,” Hutch said.

“Okay, but hear this. Just as you were a little upset about finding out that I was going to use this stuff without you knowing, I’m just as upset finding out you actually did it without telling me.”

“Truce then. We, neither of us, do anything to our own bodies without informing the other before the fact. Deal?”

“Deal,” Starsky said, then added, “seal it with a kiss?”

“You didn’t actually come up with all this just to get me to kiss you, did you?” Hutch reached out, holding Starsky’s shoulders, bringing him in close.

“Of course. I’d do just about anything to get those gorgeous lips on me.” Starsky watched the full mouth as it got closer to his, closing his eyes at the last second before they touched. They kissed, fully opening to each other with lips and tongues, hands getting in the act too, both roaming over each other’s bodies with passion. Starsky lost himself to the warm, wet recess of Hutch’s mouth, but then reluctantly pulled away, catching his breath. “Talk about distracting…” Starsky yanked Hutch closer to him. “But even with all the body contact, I’m beginning to freeze standin’ here all naked.”

“I like you that way. Naked that is; not frozen.” Hutch pulled back and turned on the taps once again.

From behind, Starsky wrapped his arms around Hutch’s waist. “I like you naked, too. Why’re you still wearing this?” Starsky stripped the shirt Hutch still had on off his shoulders and arms, tossing it toward the lump of clothes in the corner. “Hmmm,” he said into the blond hair. “What do we have here?” Starsky reached his hands down to take hold of Hutch’s erection. “I see I’ve been a good boy.” He stroked the hard/soft flesh in his hand, loving the feel, loving the response he got from Hutch. Touching him was so different from touching himself. That was another thing he’d gotten wide of the mark at the start of all this. He had thought touching another male body might be boring. He’d been dead wrong.

“You ‘re always a good boy in my book,” Hutch said with a sigh. “Or maybe not, since I always seem to be in this state when you’re near me.”

“You complainin’?” Starsky asked, teasing back.

“Not hardly. Not when the reward is so good. Why else do you think I keep you around? For your cooking?”

“I know what you keep me around for,” Starsky said. “Now get under that water.” He eyed Hutch’s ass as he was stepping into the shower. Could I? He wondered. He’s gonna want that from me soon. No matter how much he might try and deny it. He’s still holding back his needs; I can tell, and now I can see it’s hard for him. Maybe we can do more than just start where we left off yesterday.

Starsky stepped into the shower directly in front of Hutch and hauled him into his arms again, starting the kissing where they’d left off moments ago. Lost in Hutch’s kiss-again—his consciousness only vaguely registered Hutch holding the soap, lathering up his back, tracing the soap down lower, lower until it reached the cleft of his butt cheeks. Starsky reached back then, holding Hutch’s hand that held the soap, guiding it down, delving deeper, and keeping the bar pressed solidly against his skin. Then he let go, allowing Hutch to clean him as much as he wanted. Hutch walked them back a foot or so and deposited the soap in the holder. Then he moved forward, using his hands to gently part Starsky’s ass, fingers and water washing away the remaining suds.

“Will you let me have some more of you right now?” Hutch asked lightly, depositing little kisses along Starsky’s jaw.

“More?” Starsky shivered. This might be my chance. C’mon, Hutch, just ask me.

“Now that you’re all nice an’ clean, I thought…” Hutch sucked in an earlobe, leaving the sentence hanging.

“Tell me what you want, babe,” Starsky said, lapping up the liquid on Hutch’s sleek neck. “I need you to tell me. I don’t wanna find that I’ve been dawdling, like I found out last night.” Ask me….

“Only if you’re ready…” Hutch started, letting another sentence go unfinished.

Starsky took hold of Hutch’s head, looking at him squarely. “How will I know if I’m ready or not if you don’t ask me? No holding back, lover. You need to tell me straight up. No holding back, you said. That goes all the way around. Got it?”

Hutch kept his eyes steady. “I want to rim you. Here. In the shower.”

This time the trembling from Starsky’s body had nothing to do with what Hutch’s mouth did, but with what it said. “Really? You really want to do that?”

“Yes.”

Starsky let go and shrugged. Well, I asked him, didn’t  I? “That seems quite a step forward from what we were doin’ last night, Hutch.”

“I know. It is. But you wanted me to tell you what I want. We don’t have to do it. It’s just what I want to do. Sometime.” Hutch drew Starsky near again. “We can start out where we were last night. When it comes right down to it, I really just want you.”

Starsky rocked them a little, snuggling close. “I am all nice and clean. Inside and out.” Starsky laid his cheek aside Hutch’s shoulder. All right. “All right. I mean, you already had a finger up there, and I loved it. What’s a tongue?” That’s a joke, love. Please laugh. Starsky drew upright hoping….

“Tum around,” Hutch said, his expression full of love and lust. And Starsky was happy with that result, too.

Starsky turned and felt cold air along his back when Hutch moved the curtain aside. He looked behind him and saw Hutch re-enter the shower having gotten a towel. He folded it, setting it on the floor of the tub. For his knees. I’ll have to remember that.

“Step up to the spray, Starsk. I want you to stay warm. Move your left foot over to the wall here as far as you can,” Hutch was saying. “Now put your right foot up on the edge. Use your arms to steady yourself. You’re going to need it.”

Before Starsky could respond, a whoosh of air was forced out of him as Hutch suddenly enfolded himself around Starsky’s smaller frame. He used his anus to catch himself against the wall in front him. “Hu—”

“Shhh, don’t talk, just enjoy. Let me know how much you like it,” Hutch uttered in his ear. “Let me get you back to where we were a moment ago.”

Hutch spread his fingers wide, moving slowly down toward Starsky’s cock. Once there, he gripped it with both hands, alternately pulling the flesh forward from base to tip, right, then left, right, then left, right… A thumb pressed over the head. Starsky hardened quickly, groaning with the sensation. A mouth found his neck and started sucking the wet skin.

“I…” Hutch said as he moved down Starsky’s back, kissing the highest bullet scar, poking the exit wound with his tongue, moving his right hand to circle the entry point at the same time. Many of the nerves were now deadened in the area, but Starsky could still feel the pressure, still feel the adoration coming from his lover. It choked him up, knowing Hutch was tracing the path the bullets took through his body, both front and back simultaneously. He’d never even imagined…

“Love…” Hutch continued, moving on down to the next one, fingers tracing the surgery scars too, repeating his tender caresses of the newly healed flesh all the while keeping a slow but steady pumping motion on his cock. A new awareness crept its way into Starsky’s conscious, Hutch’s own hard cock nestling between the globes of his ass. And, oh, how right that felt. He pushed back onto it, clenching his cheeks around the hard shaft as well as he could in the wetness.

“You.” Hutch progressed to the last scar, loving it like Starsky didn’t even know was possible. The new position caused Hutch’s cock to leave him, but Starsky made up for the loss of sensation by pumping faster into the hand fisting his cock.

“Ah, Hutch,” Starsky sighed.

Then Hutch was on his knees, swirling his tongue on the susceptible area over his tail bone, nipping the skin of the top of his ass with his teeth. Still Starsky kept up the pumping of his hips, careful not to buck back too hard, increasing his speed, needing more and more and more, getting oh, so close. At that moment, the hand left him and just as he was about to voice a protest, both hands landed on his hips, stilling them. Hutch’s thumbs pulled, parting him, his tongue fell lower, moving down the middle until he got to the crease of skin that divided his cheeks from his legs. From the sensitive area of his inner thigh to the outside of his hip, the tongue outlined the lower curvature of his cheeks. Starsky bent his knee and leaned forward a little more, trying to spread his leg further and give Hutch better access. Hutch’s tongue moved up then, running down his parted crack, each time stopping just before it reached his anus.

“Uh,” Starsky said breathlessly. “Oh!” he repeated constantly. Hutch withdrew his mouth from its place near his twitching core. The teasing drove him crazy. “Oh…”

Again and again Hutch was almost there, and then again he drew back. Finally, the time came, and the roving tongue was at his hole, the stiff muscle flicking over the wrinkled skin, pushing, pushing, finally entering him. Then Hutch’s hand was there once more, stroking Starsky’s needful cock in rhythm to match the darting tongue. His orgasm suddenly upon him, Starsky came, semen shooting out of his slit onto the wall before him, then running over Hutch’s large, loving, hand.

“Ahh!” Starsky managed to shout, breathless. “I…”

Up on his feet instantly, Hutch wrapped one arm around Starsky, using his strength to keep his partner from sagging to the floor. “Shh, babe. Just let go and feel it.” The other hand continued to gently stroke him.

Starsky felt the last drops of come wringing from his cock, and then he went lax, totally relying on Hutch’s strength. The stroking hand lightened its touch some more and then it was gone. He opened his eyes, wondering what Hutch was going to do next. Hutch held the soap again, thick suds forming in his hands. Dropping the soap, the hands moved to Starsky’ s groin where they tenderly lathered the ultra-sensitive area. Then he reached up and turned the nozzle downward, nudging Starsky gently under the spray, washing away the come and soap.

As the last of the suds slowly spun away down the drain, Starsky finally roused himself enough to turn in his lover’s embrace. “I don’t know what to say,” he said, feeling a little shy. He mimicked the hold Hutch had on him.

“How about telling me if you liked it. That’s what lovers like to hear. Even if you didn’t. I need to hear that, too.” Hutch brushed away a stray drop of water from under Starsky’s eye.

“I-I think I loved it. I know I did. Couldn’t you tell? I thought I was moaning enough.” Starsky smiled.

“Oh, you were, you were. But I still like hearing it from you directly. Just to be sure. I need to know that what you were doing wasn’t just to please me.”

“Would I do that?”

“Yes, I think you would,” Hutch said bluntly. “Especially because of how this whole thing began.”

“Yeah, you’re right I would. I would have yesterday, or even the day before,” Starsky admitted after a brief pause. He knew that they both knew he’d do just about anything Hutch wanted. “But I wasn’t now, honestly. I really liked it. At first, I wasn’t sure I could even stand the idea of you touching me with your hands after last night. But the washing…the enema helped to relax me.” Starsky tapped his head. “In my mind it made me feel clean enough to be handled that intimately back there.”

“Oh, babe,” Hutch hugged Starsky tightly against himself. “You ‘re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

The embrace reminded Starsky that Hutch hadn’t come; his erection was still hot and throbbing between them. Starsky reached out a hand to cup Hutch’s balls. He gave them a brief squeeze. “Now I get to have my way with you. What do you want from me?”

“Whatever you want to give me. I enjoy everything you offer.” Hutch beamed.

“Oh, I think I’ve got the perfect thing to offer. Let’s get out of this bathroom and get more comfortable on the bed,” Starsky said, stepping out of the tub, reaching for a towel.

“I’ve spent all this time in the shower, Starsk, and I haven’t even washed myself yet. You go ahead, I’ll be quick.”

Starsky wanted to stay and help, but his mind whirled with thoughts of what he was going to do to Hutch.

Yesterday I was ready to give him a blow job. Think I’ll start there. Probably shock the hell out of him because we never got to the part where I told him what I wanted to do for him. He couldn’t help the impish smile that came over his face.

“Oh, no,” Hutch said, peeking around the curtain. “What’re you thinkin’ about now, dare I ask?” Starsky handed him a towel. “Hutch, now it’s my turn to come clean, as it were, with what I want.”

“Okay.”

“Remember yesterday when I asked you if you wanted a blow job?” Starsky asked. “Yeah?” A seed of hope took root in the depths of the summer blue eyes watching Starsky.

“Well, that wasn’t ’cause I wanted you to do it to me.” Starsky paused, wanting to highlight his offer to Hutch. “It was because I was ready to do it to you.”

“Oh.” Hutch shrugged carelessly. He stepped out of the tub and hung up his towel all with the air of someone who didn’t have a care in the world. But Starsky could see it was more than an “oh.” Hutch hadn’t even taken the time to completely dry himself.

He neared his partner, reaching around him to hang up his own towel beside the other one.

“Yeah, oh,” he whispered into the back of long neck in front of him. He could see small tremors running up the muscles of Hutch’s spine. “I think we need to get in the bedroom, before I need to take you right here, right now.”

“Ahh, I guess.” Hutch shrugged again, still playing the indifferent party. He not-so-casually moved forward out of the bathroom, a slight waver in his steps that Starsky immediately picked up on.

Good Got you where I want you, you big blond hunk of man. You wanting, needing me so bad You never did get any release last night. And then never saying anything today until I practically had to force it out of you. Now I’m glad last night happened the way it did. The enema thing wasn’t so bad. We shared it together, and tonight we ‘re both getting the things we ‘ve wanted.

“I want you to sit up, Hutch, with your back against the headboard. Think you’ll like that?”

“Sure.” Starsky’s promise of sucking him had seemingly reduced Hutch to short, mostly one syllable answers.

“Hey.” Starsky wound his arms around his partner, kissing the back of the neck he’d just been looking at, finding and sucking on the large knobby bone of the spine, just above the shoulder blades. Starsky shoved Hutch forward with his body, keeping contact, both of them now kneeling on the bed. He fit himself between Hutch’s legs, continuing to lavish his attention on Hutch’s back, his fingers pinching and tweaking the nipples he found under his hands.

Moving up to Hutch’s shoulders, he nudged Hutch over so that he was sitting on his butt, legs out straight. Keeping eye contact, he felt around until he found a pillow to set behind Hutch’s back. That’s it, look at me and watch how much I want to get you ready for me, to get you to a place where you can let go and feel my love for you.

Rolling forward, he forced Hutch to lean against the soft padding. Now we ‘re ready. Starsky loomed above him, grabbing a kiss that tilted Hutch’s head backward until it rested on the ledge of his headboard. He kept Hutch there, locking his partner to him with his mouth, deepening the kiss. Starsky coaxed Hutch’s tongue to enter his mouth. Once he had it where he wanted it, he closed his lips around it tightly before sucking on it strongly, taking it in as deep as he could. That caused a sound to come from his partner that Starsky had never heard before.

Then Starsky left his favorite pair of lips to start his journey downward, rushing perhaps, but ready, more than ready to get that big, fair cock into his mouth. So far Hutch had had all the fun tasting. Now it was finally his turn. Starsky tugged on Hutch’s waist, trying to get him to move down so he would be more comfortably stretched out instead of sitting straight up.

“Here,” Hutch muttered. He was tilted back but curled slightly in the middle; relaxed, but in a position to keep track of Starsky’s movements by sight as well as touch. Starsky knew Hutch’s cock had to be screaming at him with the need to be in some place soon. Some place, any place. No, not just any. But my place. My mouth, this time, another time…who knows? So Starsky took the hardened member in his hand, amazed at Hutch’s ability to stay partially reclined. The half-closed eyes continued to watch him intently. Don’t be lookin’ for some sign or something that I might not want this. I do. Feel how I want this. He couldn’t wait any longer. Wetting his lips, taking a big breath, hoping at the last second that his inexperience wouldn’t matter too much, he fed that monster cock between his lips, tightening his mouth around as much of it as he could. Finally, Hutch reacted, falling backwards, a long, drawn out groan emanating from somewhere deep inside him.

A big boost to his ego those sounds of pleasure were, and Starsky set his mind to trying to keep those kinds of resonant tones coming from Hutch. No wonder he likes to do this to me. If I sound anything like he does now, and I know I do, I’d get off on it, too. And it does let me know what I’m doing is what gives him the most enjoyment. Up and down he moved, creating a vacuum, changing his pace, involving lips, tongue and even some teeth. After a few experiments, Starsky could tell which actions made Hutch close to coming and which ones could take him down a notch. He alternated between the motions; bringing Hutch to the edge, pulling back before both his feet could leave the ground. This was Starsky’s first time, after all, and he didn’t want it ending too soon.

“Starsky!” Hutch shouted when he yanked Hutch back yet again.

With his left hand, Starsky explored Hutch’s balls, tugging on them gently, the way he liked, and apparently Hutch did, too, if the twisting of the pale body was anything to go by. Starsky scrunched down more, popping one of the lightly furred sacs into his mouth. This earned him another shout from his partner. This is new. This is something you haven’t done to me yet. He took care of it tenderly, savoring its newness, feeling the delicate shape of this most vulnerable part of Hutch’s body.

Licking his way back up the shaft to the flared head, Starsky sucked in the tip, running the flat of his tongue over and over again into the sensitive slit. Hutch tasted just as good as he thought he would, so clean and fresh. His mouth watered, making the cockhead good and wet, the saliva then flowing down to join his hand, easing the friction his pumping was creating. Starsky took in the full shaft again, squeezing it, making his mouth as snug as he could.

“Starsky!” Hutch shouted again. “Oh, please, please, babe. I’m so ready. Please!” He sat up and flung his body over Starsky, reaching out, one hand cupping the back of Starsky’s head, the other crossing and grabbing his waist. Hutch’s hips pumped upwards in the confined space, once, twice, and then he threw his head back, filling up Starsky’s mouth with his semen, pulsing, breathing harshly, then fading, fading to slump over Starsky’s bowed back.

Letting the softening penis slide out of his mouth, Starsky washed around the organ, cleaning the area lovingly, bestowing one last kiss before trying to turn under the weight holding him down.

The body lifted as he moved, the hand in his hair progressing to his neck, guiding Starsky’s head until it rested comfortably on Hutch’s thigh. Both hands held his cheeks as thumbs ran over his swollen lips and fingers moved along his aching jaw. Starsky looked up into the clearest blue eyes on the planet. Clear because there was no mistaking the love radiating down into his own eyes. A mouth descended.

“Our first upside-down kiss,” Starsky said, a twinkle in his eye. Then his stomach grumbled.

Hutch laughed. “I thought I just got done feeding you!” Then he looked hesitant. “Didn’t taste too good, did it?”

“Honestly? You…you taste wonderful. And you’re made up of many different flavors. And I loved them all. Bet you have some more that I didn’t get around to finding yet, either.” The sappy smile was back. Starsky decided to try and keep it there. “Did…did you like it? I mean, I know you liked it. But…did you like it?”

“You were great, Starsk. I-I couldn’t believe you were doing that to me. That you wanted…”

“Hey, hey,” Starsky reached up to bring his partner down closer to him. “You bet I wanted. I already told ya, I woulda wanted to last night, if, you know. But then, this might have worked out for the better.”

“I know it did.” They shared another kiss, lightly nipping at their lips, tongue soothing. “Hmm.” Hutch pulled back. “It couldn’t have been any better. It’s great doing different things to each other. Know what I mean? You did your thing.. I did mine. Different. We’re not following the leader.”

“No leader here, partner. Just you and me.” Starsky rolled off the bed, landing gently on his knees before standing up. “Speaking of me, let’s get a look at that great dinner you were talking about bribing me with earlier.” He looked around for his robe.

“Me!” Hutch started. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who was planning on enticing me with food, wine, and your fingers. And by the way, I heard you when you said it was a great idea you had about letting me help you with the enema.” Hutch stood up as well, finding and donning the robe he kept at Starsky’s place. “It’s a good thing one of us had a little experience and know-how…” Hutch looked up with an apologetic frown.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks for reminding me about that book.” Starsky stood there and crossed his arms, pouting just a little.

Hutch approached Starsky, opening the folds of fabric to encircle Starsky in a hug, pressing their skin together. “We’ll look at it later, okay? When we’re back at my place?” Hutch’s voice dropped an octave; an approach that made Starsky’s knees weak. “There are some things in there I want to show you, some things you should know, and some things I’d like to try. Or should I just give it to you first? See what you can come up with?”

“You going to round out my education?” Starsky returned the embrace, loving the feel of Hutch’s hands petting his back.

“You’re already well rounded,” Hutch said, moving down to clutch Starsky’s muscled ass, a cheek in each hand. “So well rounded, I’ll bet you bounce.”

“Do you know, Hutch, that the tongue is the strongest muscle of the human body? Size taken into consideration, of course.”

Hutch smirked. “Now, that is something I completely believe you’d know.” A hand reached up to ruffle his curls. “What other bits of useful information do you have hiding under all this hair?”

“Oh, I can guarantee you’ll find out someday,” Starsky promised with a grin. “Probably sooner than you think.”