Confessions

“Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, give me back my watch!”

Starsky’s voice was trembling, angry and hurt. Hutch looked at him, saw his eyes grow dark and stormy. He had οnce again managed to irritate and distress his partner and best friend. Someone he loved way beyond the acceptable limits of friendship. He had no idea how he always ended up hurting Starsky when all he wanted was to see him smile. The only thing he knew for sure was he had to work to change that.

Seeing the hurt show, clear as day, on Starsky’s expressive face made his heart clench. He ached with the desire to comfort him, to reassure him. He wanted to touch him, pull him close, and fold him in a tight embrace. He knew that right now, though, his partner wouldn’t welcome it.

“I’m waiting.” Starsky said, his voice tight. “Give it back.”

“Only if you give me my heart back first.” Hutch said, and froze. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. For a second, he wanted to take the words back, stuff them into his mouth and swallow them, bury them so deep that the light of day would never reach them.

The second passed, though, and looking at Starsky’s dazed expression, he thought, ‘Fuck it, I’m done hiding. He deserves to know how I feel. I’m hurting him more trying to keep a lid on my emotions. It’s not fair to either one of us.’

Starsky was still looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. He exhaled, and Hutch realized Starsky had been holding his breath ever since Hutch had unleashed his verbal bomb.

“What?” Starsky asked in a voice so soft, the next passing breeze could have snatched it up and carried it away through the window.

Hutch’s voice was just as soft. He didn’t want to frighten Starsky, but he was also frightened himself. “You heard me. If you want me to give you your watch back, you have to give me back my heart. It’s not fair to keep something valuable of mine while demanding I return something valuable of yours.”

Starsky just stood there, dumbfounded, staring at him, eyes wide, breathing so shallow that Hutch had to wonder if he was getting enough oxygen.

“And it’s not like you asked for it,” Hutch continued, “you just took it. This watch you gave to me of your own free will. But my heart… my heart you stole.”

Hutch felt terrified but oddly liberated too. He had been carrying the weight of his secret for far too long, and now, finally, he was unearthing it. Bringing it to the light. Sharing it. He was relieved. No matter what happened, he would be free of these shackles.

“What are you saying?” Starsky looked like he was about to say more, but whatever it was remained unsaid, hanging in the air between them. It seemed like he was having trouble processing what Hutch was telling him.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for a very long time. Maybe forever. And all I want is for you to be happy. For some reason, though, I keep making you the opposite of that. Maybe I don’t know how to make another person happy. Maybe all I’m good for is upsetting people, hurting them. I’ll try harder to change that, I promise. I promise. I don’t want to cause you pain. I don’t want to make you angry with me. But that’s all I ever seem to do. I’m sorry. I really am. You deserve the best, Starsk. And I want you to know, I’m not expecting anything from you. I’m not expecting my feelings to be reciprocated. That’s not why I’m telling you, I’m telling you because… it was by accident, it just slipped out. But once it did, I realized it was for the best. I shouldn’t try to keep it from you, to worry all the time about things I say, things I do, and how I look at you. It’s torture. And I think… I think it was in part responsible for making you miserable. The fact that I was miserable myself. Now you know, though. You know, and I don’t have to worry about it anymore. You don’t, either. I’m not asking for anything. Even just the huge weight lifting off of me is more than enough. I’m not putting that weight on you. I would never do that. I don’t want anything. I just hope you will still want to be my partner and my best friend. I don’t want to lose you.”

Hutch felt drained. He didn’t know what else to say; his words had run out. All he could do was wait for Starsky to speak, to show some kind of reaction. He didn’t want to think about Starsky reacting in a bad way, but he would face whatever he needed to face and deal with it.

Starsky kept silent. He just stood there, his face inscrutable. It was one of those rare, but very real, times Hutch couldn’t read him. He felt the urge to panic but didn’t give in to it. He took a deep breath. He ought to give Starsky space.

“I’d better go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was half a statement, half a question. He didn’t know if Starsky would want to see him or if he’d decide it was all too much to handle.

He turned to go. Two steps later, he felt a hand grab his arm and pull him back. All of a sudden, he found himself on the couch with a lap full of Starsky.

“No, I don’t think I will return your heart. Why would I want to give back a jewel like that? I wouldn’t have bothered stealing it if it wasn’t so precious. So no, it’s mine forever now.”

It was Hutch’s turn to lose his speech. In all the different versions of how the situation could play out, he never let himself think this could be a possible outcome. He didn’t dare hope. Was this happening inside his head or was it real? Was he losing his mind along with the ability to speak?

He blinked, raising a hand to touch Starsky’s face. He needed to make sure this wasn’t a dream. Tentative fingertips grazed Starsky’s cheek. He was real, a warm weight pinning him down.

Starsky caught Hutch’s hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed his fingers. “It’s real, babe. I’m real. And while you’re not asking for anything, I want to give you everything. Everything I have, everything I am. I— Breathe, Hutch. You’re starting to turn blue.”

Hutch was suddenly aware that he had stopped breathing at some point. His chest was burning. He took a deep, shuddering breath. Another. And another. He was feeling lightheaded, and if it wasn’t for Starsky anchoring him to the couch, he was sure he would be floating towards the ceiling.

“That’s better,” Starsky said with a smile. “Blue may be a good color on you, but I prefer my man conscious and breathing.”

“Your man,” Hutch said, his voice full of awe.

Starsky kissed his cheek bone. “That’s you.” He kissed his nose. “In case you were wondering. You are so ridiculous sometimes, you could think I was talking about someone else,” Starsky said in between light, butterfly kisses all over Hutch’s face. He kissed every inch of skin available except Hutch’s mouth. He was saving the best for last.

“I’m mad about you, my sweet Blintz. My heart is your heart. Captain’s right, we’re both idiots. We let all this time pass… But, you know what? It doesn’t matter. It only means we have a lot of catching up to do. That’s a good thing, in this case. Can I kiss you on the lips? You won’t have a seizure, will ya?” Starsky asked his questions with the glee and enthusiasm of a child about to be let loose in a candy store.

“Yes.” Hutch’s answer was immediate and full of confidence. He was getting his mojo back.

“Yes, I can kiss you or yes, you won’t have a seizure.”

“Both, you imp! Shut up and kiss me already! God, you talk too mmmmmmph!”

Starsky’s arms folded around Hutch’s neck, his hands buried themselves in his hair. Hutch’s arms enveloped Starsky in a tight embrace, crushing him to his chest, not even a molecule of air between them. They kissed and kissed; passionate, sexy, sweet, slow, languid kisses chasing each other on their lips. They kissed until they were breathless and dazed, and then they kissed some more. Neither one knew how much time had passed, and they didn’t care. Time had no meaning now that they were together. Hutch thought that’s what Eternity must feel like.

When they couldn’t kiss any more, their lips swollen and sore, Hutch told Starsky what he had thought. Starsky touched his forehead to Hutch’s, nuzzled his nose, and chuckled. “Wanna find out together? Wanna be my forever?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“Stay with me tonight? To sleep, nothing more. No ulterior motives. Scout’s honor. I just don’t want to let you go now that we’ve found each other. I don’t think I could sleep without holding you.”

Hutch’s heart was bursting with love and happiness. “Tonight and every night. Forever, remember?”

“C’mon,” Starsky said, dislodging himself from Hutch’s arms and pulling him up, “this calls for a celebration. I still have that expensive bottle of wine. What do you say we cook a couple of steaks and you can make one of your fancy salads. We’ll light candles and put some music on, maybe dance a little? I want to romance you properly! And after, I’ll make popcorn and we can watch a movie on TV, pretend we’ve gone to the cinema.”

Starsky’s enthusiasm and excitement were contagious. Hutch laughed, feeling happy and drunk. Drunk on love. “Yes! But we must hold hands and make out, just like in a theater.”

“But of course, my Fair Gentleman. The full cinematic experience.” Starsky gave an exaggerated bow. “This way to the kitchen. After you.”

Hutch touched a hand to his chest and pretended to blush. He hooked elbows with Starsky and, together, giggling and flirting, made their way to the kitchen and the beginning of something beautiful.

On the coffee table, a forgotten watch was ticking away the moments that made up a Happily Ever After.