Maybe More

101

As they start an intimate relationship, Starsky is surprised to learn he isn’t Hutch’s first love.

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“Talk to me, Hutch! Please!”

He sighed behind closed eyes at Starsky’s persistence. “And say what?”

“How about yes?”

They were lounging on the couch, supposedly watching the game, but Starsky had gone on and on about his new girlfriend Melanie, her best friend Joyce and their desire to introduce Joyce to Hutch on a double-date picnic. He’d already said he wasn’t interested, but Starsky wasn’t taking no for an answer. He’d have left an hour ago, except it was his apartment and he’d have to kick Starsky out to shut him up.

But he was getting there. “No more talk, Starsk. Let’s just watch the game.”

* * * *

“Wake up, babe. Pizza’s here.”

“Huh?” He’d dozed off. The game was over, but Starsky had let him sleep, then ordered dinner so they wouldn’t have to go out. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, appreciating the gesture. “Thanks. I’ll grab us some beers and paper plates.”

“Already got ‘em. Just help yourself.” Starsky set the pizza on the coffee table and sat down beside him. They ate in a comfortable silence.

“Hutch, can I ask you….”

“I said no, Starsk. I’m not interested in meeting your girlfriend’s best friend. Truth is, I’m not interested in meeting your girlfriend. Sorry, but I’m not.”

Starsky shrugged. “She’s not my girlfriend. She wants to be, but we’ve only been on the one date. When I talked about you, I guess she thought if we made the next one a foursome, she’d stand a better chance.”

“You talked about me? Why?”

Starsky leaned forward and set his empty beer bottle on the table. “I dunno. She asked a lot of questions I didn’t want to answer, trying to get to know me and I had to have something to say. She’s nice, but while you were sleeping, I decided to pass.”

Somehow, he was relieved. “What did you want to ask?”

“Have you ever….” Starsky broke off, uncertain how to proceed, then changed his mind abruptly. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

It was a long time coming, but there’d been hints and he knew what was on his partner’s mind. “Just ask, Starsk. I won’t bite.”

Starsky rubbed his hands together and bravely stammered, “Have you ever had a male lover, Hutch?”

He was silent, waiting until Starsky looked him in the eye, then admitted, “Yes.”

Surprise, interest and a hint of–curiosity?–flashed in Starsky’s eyes. “Anyone I know?”

“No”

“Just the one?”

“Yes.” He watched uncertainty cross Starsky’s face and didn’t want to deal with any more tonight. “Enough, Starsk. Time for you to go home. Decide what you really want to know and we’ll talk some other time. You can ask your questions then.”

He turned away from Starsky and busied himself with clearing away the debris from dinner. When he returned from the kitchen, Starsky was gone.

* * * *

Hutch thought about him now and then. His name was Michael and he was more than a dozen years dead, but he was Hutch’s first everything—first friend at university, first kiss, first lover, first love. They’d been wary roommates with different backgrounds and interests, but Michael was a precocious charmer. He seduced a naive Hutchinson with kisses and oral sex and Hutch fell in love. They spent a semester together, then Michael’s dad had a massive stroke. He wasn’t expected to live and Michael was summoned home. Hutch wanted to go with him, but Michael said no. He’d be back after he’d said goodbye and buried his dad.

Michael’s plane home crashed with no survivors. Hutch attended the double funeral, then changed schools. He never spoke of Michael again, never allowed himself to get too close to any male friend.

Until Dave Starsky.

As his friendship with Starsky deepened, the feelings he’d had for Michael reawakened. But he knew now that love was more than kisses and sex. There was trust and respect, humor and the hundreds of tiny, mutual compromises people willingly made to enjoy a life together. He had that much with Starsky already. But he wanted to share the physical love he had for his partner, so Hutch was patient, saying nothing, watching and waiting to see if Starsky showed any interest in a more intimate relationship with him. He hoped now….

Starsky said no more about it.

* * * *

Life continued as before, with the usual camaraderie between them. Starsky went on a second date with Melanie after all and Hutch stayed home alone. There was no third date.

A month later, they were cleaning up after spaghetti at Starsky’s place. Hutch washed the few dishes while Starsky pulled two more beers from the fridge and offered one to Hutch.

“No more, Starsk. I should head home. Thanks for dinner.” Hutch rinsed the last pot and set it on the rack.

Starsky put the bottle back in the fridge, paused a moment, then put the other one back, too. “Tell me, Hutch. What’s it like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sex with a guy. What’s it like?”

Hutch wiped his hands on a dish towel and leaned against the counter. “I can only tell you what I know. The kisses and touches are like they are with a woman. They feel good and show you care. Sucking a cock, tasting cum, was the first sex I ever had and I….” He stopped, caught up in the memory. “…I enjoyed it every time I did it. Every time it was done to me.”

Starsky nodded, then dared to ask, “What about—”

“I can’t speak to that, Starsk. There was no penetration. Michael died before we got that far.”

“Michael?”

“That was his name. We were eighteen.”

“Oh.” Starsky took a deep breath, then ventured, “Would you ever do it again? Have sex with a guy?”

Hutch replied in the same quiet tone. “With the right guy, maybe. If he trusted me enough. If I trusted him.” He hung the towel on its hook and reached for his keys on the counter. “I’ll see ya at work, Starsk.”

“I trust you, Hutch. Would you do it with me? Show me what it’s like?”

“You talk like it’s a game, Starsk. It isn’t. Sex is special. It means something to me.”

Starsky took his arm as he walked past, leaned in and gently kissed him. “It means something to me, too, Hutch. I’m not playing games.”

He looked into Starsky’s eyes. What he’d hoped for seemed to be there and the next kiss was sweet.

“Please, Hutch.”

Starsky leaned in to kiss him again, but Hutch pulled away and picked up his keys.

After years of waiting, he couldn’t believe his response. “I need to go.” He jingled his keys, trying to figure out what the problem was—and he suddenly knew. “I know you trust me, babe. I just don’t know if I trust myself. We already have a good thing going, and I’m only just realizing this could ruin it all.”

“Or make it even better.”

“Let me think on it, Starsk.” He fled before he could change his mind.

* * * *

Because of Starsky, he’d been thinking a lot about his seduction by Michael. They’d both been virgins, and he’d been terribly shy, but Michael’s hands and mouth on him had been so sure, so knowing, and Hutch had found himself eager to do anything Michael wanted, for the chance to do it again.

They’d gone into Michael’s bedroom and Michael had nonchalantly stripped, then fondled himself. Hutch had watched, open-mouthed, mesmerized by Michael’s arousal.

“How…how…” He didn’t know what to ask, but Michael knew.

“I went to boarding school. When we were high school age, I overheard a couple of the older boys talking about sucking each other. They never touched me, but I watched.”

“They did it in front of you?”

“Don’t be so naïve, Kenny. I would find out when and where they were meeting, then hide and watch them do it.” Whatever Michael was remembering excited him, and his cock got harder in his hand. “Their last semester there, two of the guys went from sucking each other to…well…penetration.”

“Penetration…” Hutch suddenly didn’t want to know what Michael had seen. He turned to go, depressed. “I’m gonna pass, Mikey. I’ll see ya later.”

“Wait, Kenny.” Michael took hold and gently turned him. “What’s wrong?”

Hutch remembered the embarrassment he’d harboured. “I-I…”

Michael had leaned in and kissed him. “Tell me, Kenny. What’s wrong?”

And the kiss mattered enough to get him talking. “It’s my first time, Mikey. I know it’s not love, but when I do it, I want it to mean something. I’m not looking to check “I did it!” off some list so I can brag about it.”

Michael leaned his forehead against Hutch’s and sighed. “You’re right. First times are meant to be special. When I found out what was going on at boarding school, I figured I’d get in on it, but seeing those two changed everything for me.”

“How so?”

“They…” Michael looked seriously at Hutch. “…they’d been in and out of schools together since they were little and I think they genuinely loved each other. Or at least were learning to. As young as they were, they’d been intimate for a while and wanted to take it as far as they could go. I could hear them talking. They took such care with each other and when they were done, I realized this wasn’t just fucking. They were making love. Watching them was wrong and I backed off. In fact, I stopped spying on all the guys.” He shrugged and admitted, “I guess I wanted my first time to mean something, too, and the thought of somebody gaping at me from the shadows….”

Michael unbuttoned Hutch’s shirt and kissed his neck. “So I waited. I want my first time to be special, and I want it to be with you. Take your clothes off and be with me, Kenny. We’ll take it slow and we won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

And he’d let Michael seduce him. He’d taken off his clothes and Michael had touched him, pushed him down onto the bed and laid on top of him, rubbing their bodies together. Quick orgasms surprised them both, but encouraged them to explore intimacy.

They did take it slow. The first time Michael went down on him, Hutch screamed in pleasure and fell in love. When he went down on Michael, Michael lost his mind and Hutch learned how to control his touches to enhance their enjoyment of each other.

As the semester went by and they got close, Michael began to hint at exploring penetration, was thrilled when Hutch didn’t object. But Michael had been summoned home and they decided to wait until he got back to discuss it further, though Hutch bravely asked for details of what Michael had seen when he spied on the couple at his boarding school. Michael admitted he hadn’t seen much, that it was something they’d discover together.

“What happened to them, Mikey?” Hutch had asked, unable to help his curiosity.

“Dunno. I heard they went off to university together. Let me ask you, Kenny. Do you think it’s possible that guys can make a life with each other? An intimate one they don’t have to hide? Like a marriage?”

He didn’t know.

And even now, that was the problem. He had a close, working partnership with Dave Starsky. And it was acceptable to everyone they knew. But add love and sex to the relationship? Even Starsky was hesitant on the subject of homosexuality, and Hutch felt Starsky’s interest in intimacy was more curiosity than any long-term commitment, and definitely something to hide.

The kisses told him it was better to stop. He didn’t need to ruin what they already had, chasing after more.

But Starsky showed up unannounced on his doorstep the next morning.

Hutch was just out of the shower, dressed in a robe, combing his hair. He wasn’t ready for company, but Starsky didn’t consider himself company and pushed his way in, went straight to the bedroom.

“You think too much, Blintz. We’ve already talked about sex with each other. You know I trust you, so show me what it’s like.” Starsky slowly, deliberately took off his clothes and stood by the bed, watching Hutch.

Hutch froze, confronted by Starsky’s willingness to try.

“How do you want me? Should I lay down?” Starsky rubbed his burgeoning hard-on, didn’t take his eyes off Hutch.

“Yeah,” Hutch muttered as he shed his robe and approached Starsky. He kissed his partner after Starsky settled on the bed and carefully stroked Starsky’s body, stopping at the hard-on growing in his hand. With a moan, Hutch took Starsky’s cock into his mouth and sucked it, giving it all the love and attention he could.

Starsky gasped and began to move in excitement, under Hutch’s complete control. Hutch brought him to the brink of orgasm, backed off, then did it again and again. Starsky went crazy, begging to come.

“Please, Hutch! Please! Ohmygod, please!”

And this time, Hutch let him. Starsky shrieked in rapture and came.

He was a long time calming down, but Hutch waited, hiding his own arousal, then Starsky took it all away.

“God, that was fun, Hutch! What else did Michael teach you? There’s got to be other stuff you learned to do…”

Hutch rolled out of bed, went to the dresser and pulled out a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. He dressed quickly and quietly said, “He taught me first times are special and he was right. I never had a three-way before, and now I have. Get dressed and go home, Starsk. Don’t be here when I return. And don’t come over without calling first.”

“Hutch?”

“This was meant to be the start of something unique between us. Not recreating some checklist and comparing ours to the sex Michael and I had. We’re done. I’ll see you at work.” He left without another word.

* * * *

“Hutch?”

He knew that tone. It had been used on him several times the past year, when Starsky was feeling vulnerable and wanted to hang out. Recently, Starsky was especially touchy-feely, but it didn’t matter. He just needed to be steadfast. “Sorry, Starsk. I’ve got plans. Go have a beer at Huggy’s or stop by the bowling alley. Meet somebody. You’ll be just fine. You always are. Have a good weekend.”

He patted Starsky on the shoulder and left the station.

Times like this, Hutch wondered what Michael would say about his plans—or lack of them. They’d learned to be open and honest with each other and that was one of the things Hutch loved and missed about him. He sat on the floor and pulled his guitar case from under the bed. Something else Michael had discovered Hutch was interested in and insisted he learn to do. He tuned the guitar and strummed a melody Michael had favoured.

But being in his bedroom was hard now, and he was considering a move. He’d been intimate with Starsky here, and Starsky had enjoyed it, but to Starsky, it had just been sex and Hutch refused to repeat it. Their work relationship had survived, and they still enjoyed social interactions in groups or the occasional double dates, but Hutch made sure they were never alone together away from the job. And the topic of sex was completely off limits.

He played until his heartache was manageable. It never went away, but he wasn’t overwhelmed by it anymore. And Michael was becoming just a memory again, not a ruling force in his life.

Tired now, he was putting his guitar away, when he heard a knock at the door.

It was Starsky.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to call first.” Hutch blocked the doorway, but Starsky waited for an invite, not daring to push his way in.

“I know you, Hutch. You haven’t eaten. I brought a late supper.” He held up a bag.

“What is it?”

“Wonton soup and egg rolls.”

“You don’t like wonton soup.”

“Wasn’t sure you’d eat with me. Hell, I wasn’t sure you’d even open the door.” He jiggled the bag hopefully. “I like egg rolls. I got extra.”

Hutch sighed and let him in.

They took their time eating and kept the conversation light. Starsky helped with the cleanup, then dawdled as long as he could, unwilling to leave. But it was time.

“Hutch—”

“Thanks for dinner, Starsk, but it’s late and I’m tired. I’ll see you out.” Hutch headed for the door.

“Let me stay, Hutch. I’ve had months to think on it and I want what you were offering. Intimacy unique to us. All of it. No checklists, no comparisons. We can do whatever you want, whenever you want, but don’t give up on us just because I was an idiot. Please.”

Hutch set aside his fatigue and heartache and forced himself to really study Starsky this time. The words were there, and he wanted to believe the desire matched his own, but he hesitated, still unsure.

“Please, Hutch.”

He caved. Before he knew it, he had taken Starsky’s hand and led him into the bedroom. But Hutch stopped short of asking him to strip. “Let’s just start by spending the night sleeping in the same bed, okay?” He took off his jeans and shirt and crawled into bed.

Starsky stripped down to his underwear and joined him, sighing happily when Hutch spooned against him.

Hours later, Hutch woke to Starsky kissing him, and squirming to remove his briefs. “What are you doing?”

Starsky paused, panting softly in arousal. “I thought you wanted to suck me. You woke me up fondling me and whispering my briefs were in the way. Did I misunderstand?”

No. But Hutch had been acting out the dream he’d been having. He desperately wanted to suck Starsky and now was his chance if he dared to take it. Too far gone to stop himself, he muttered, “Take them off.”

Starsky quickly wiggled out of them and lay back, breathless in anticipation.

Hutch took his time, relishing the darkness, nuzzling Starsky’s hard-on, breathing in his scent and licking the wetness leaking at the tip. He listened to Starsky moaning encouragement and when he started begging, Hutch took Starsky’s cock into his mouth and sucked it deep.

Starsky went crazy, frantically moving in and out of Hutch’s throat, and Hutch kept him under control, teasing him with climax but not allowing him to come. Starsky’s begging fed Hutch’s own arousal and Hutch relented, cupping Starsky’s balls and squeezing gently.

Starsky screamed in ecstasy and poured down Hutch’s throat.

Hutch swallowed, pleased with Starsky’s response to him, but he was shocked when Starsky stopped him from exposing himself.

“Wait. I don’t want to suck you, Hutch. You can teach me later.”

He tried to roll away, but Starsky wouldn’t let go.

“I want to belong to you. I want you to take me.”

“Take you?”

“Penetrate me.”

“No! We’re not ready for that. I’m not sure we ever will be.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for months. Reading about it. Fantasizing about it. It’s time, Hutch. We need to do this.”

And he wanted to. But still he hesitated. “We’d need lubricant. I don’t have any.”

“My jeans on the floor. Right hand pocket.”

Hutch scoffed to himself. Leave it to Starsky…. He got up, turned on the lamp next to the bed and rummaged in the clothes on the floor. A tube of lubricant was where Starsky said it would be. He looked at the bed. Starsky had taken off his shirt and was nude now, watching him intently.

“I want to see your face while you’re moving in me, but I read it’ll be easier if I’m on my hands and knees and you mount me from behind, until we get used to doing it.”

Hutch closed his eyes, trying to decide what to do. Starsky was suddenly next to him, his voice gently encouraging. “Strip down, babe. It’ll be okay.”

He nodded, handed Starsky the lubricant and stripped, then followed Starsky back to the bed. Starsky set the tube down and settled on his hands and knees, exposing himself to Hutch.

“Be generous with the lube. Use a finger to open me up a little. It’s supposed to help.” Starsky’s instructions told Hutch he really had been thinking about this, wanted it to happen.

Hutch took his time. He picked up the lubricant and did what Starsky suggested, covering his fingers and rubbing Starsky’s anus. Starsky moaned softly as Hutch pierced him, and he moved on the finger, forcing it deeper. Arousing Hutch.

When Hutch could stand it no longer, he removed his finger and replaced it with the head of his cock, pushing carefully into Starsky.

Someone moaned. He wasn’t sure who, but Hutch went deeper, holding on to Starsky’s hips and teasing them both, moving in and out.

More moans, but this time it was Starsky, in obvious pain. Hutch stopped. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. We’ll do this some other time.” He began to pull out.

“Ahhh! Wait! Push into me again!” Starsky jerked in sudden pleasure and tightly squeezed against Hutch’s cock. “Hit that same spot! Again! Again!”

Hutch moved in and out and Starsky shuddered. “Don’t stop, babe! I’m gonna come!”

And Starsky convulsed on Hutch’s cock.

Hutch rammed into Starsky, panting in urgency and losing control. He came hard, pouring into his lover and collapsing against him. Beneath him, Starsky whispered contentedly, “Now I’m yours.”

“Forever mine,” Hutch agreed and gathered him close.