Just Supposing

813

A post “Sweet Revenge” drabble series told from various points of view.

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1. The Comeback Kid

You were supposed to die, you know that?

They told me, and I believed them. You, of course, had other plans. Always bucking the system… Not that I mind, in this instance.

You’ll never work again… that much has been decided and, surprisingly, you don’t seem all that concerned. Do you know something I — they — don’t?

I wish you’d tell me. We haven’t had the chance to talk since your mom sprung you from hospital. I wish I knew what you plan to do when you come back from NYC.

Anything you decide is fine by me…

Just come back.

 

2. A New York State Of Mind

I was supposed to die, can you believe that?

Surprised the shit out of everybody when I woke up — myself included. One minute I’m somewhere — nowhere special — but it’s quiet, calm. The next, Hutch is pinging off walls and molesting nurses. Way ta go, Blondie!

That was the easy part, opening my eyes. It went downhill from there.

But here, at home, things have been good. I’m good – well… better. Ma’s having the time of her life, feeding me, building me back up. She wants me to stay. She says, “What’s back there anyway?”

I say, “Not what, Ma… who.”

 

3. Long Distance Call

I’m supposed to carry on as usual. Do the job, eat, sleep, take out the trash, like nothing’s out of the ordinary. But it is… and I can’t. I show up, I snack, I dream, and I try not to make a mess. Of anything.

I’m not doing so good.

I miss you like you wouldn’t believe. It’s one thing to have given you up for dead, but knowing you’re alive, twenty-five hundred miles away… well, it’s a whole new kind of pain. This stinks, buddy, worse than my three week old garbage.

So…pick up the phone, goddammit…

 

4. Insurance Policy

Just ’cause he’s a grown man, I’m supposed to sit back and let him make his own decisions? Well, let me tell you, Starsky men make lousy choices sometimes.

Me, I never had a choice: child bride, teen mother, widow before thirty — he calls me ‘Ma’ but treats me like a big sister.

He’s done being a cop — sad for him, but me? I’d do cartwheels, handstands, any number of tricks to have him stay alive. Stay here.

No job, no girl, no future… What’s back there for him anyway?

I’m leaving the ringer turned off, though. Just in case…

 

5. Shock Tactics

Who are you supposed to be, lady? You ain’t ‘Ma’. You’re like some sit-com yenta, dishing out guilt trips with the chicken soup. No thanks — I’m full. I’ve had it up to here. As for that crap about the phone bugging you at night…

You say, “It’s not like you have to get back to that crummy job…”

I say, “Wasn’t so crummy when it helped pay your bills.”

The slap that follows is deafening, the silence after is worse. Then come the tears. Yours… Mine… You damn near took my eye out.

Like I don’t have enough problems already.

 

6. Family Planning

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Denied daughters, I had a right to daughters-in-law: I wanted to be the youngest grandma on the block.

Nicky’s been… a disappointment. And as for Davy, I don’t know him at all.

He’s going back to California. So I say, fine — go West, young man. Only, he ain’t so young anymore. And he still hasn’t found his pot of gold.

Maybe he only needs a second look. I hope she’s a nice Jewish girl. Someone he’ll want to bring home. For good.

Maybe it’s supposed to be like this, after all.

 

7. Target Practice

I miss Hutch.

And I kept missing him every time I called. Spoke to Huggy twice, the Cap’n three times in the past couple weeks… but not Hutch. At least I know now why I never heard from him…

Can you believe my mother?

So here I am at JFK. Supposed to be boarding any minute now and, much as I hate to fly, I’m more than ready this time around.

‘Cause this time I’m heading in the right direction. It’s been a while since I felt like that. A long while.

Guess I only needed something to aim at.

 

8. Marketing Man

It’s not until I empty my grocery cart that I realize what I’ve done.

Moving along the belt are the fixings for three days of salads, a quart of one-percent ~ diet, or die trying, as my mother always says ~ a six-pack of root beer, a box of Froot Loops, three packs of Twinkies, and a huge frozen pizza.

What the Hell’s the matter with me? If I can’t have Starsky around, I’ll have his groceries instead?

Embarrassed and confused, I offer the checkout girl a supposed smile. One she mirrors as she says, knowingly, “Your weekend for the kids, huh?”

 

9. Homing Instinct

He’s looking down as he climbs the stairs, watching his feet like they’re a pair of ex-cons and might do something stupid at any minute.

He’s toting bags from Speedy-Mart; he picked plastic over paper — first time for everything. Whaddaya suppose it means? Save A Tree?

Three treads shy of the top he stops… Sways… So I reach out and grab him by the groceries ’til he’s steady enough to look up.

He looks tired, empty, but then a smile starts to spread, filling his face ’til it reaches his eyes. He says, “Hey…”

And I know I’m home.

 

10. Philosopher’s Stone

I recognize the feet… the shoes, anyway. But aren’t they just a little out of place? They’re supposed to be in New York, and so is he. Their presence here catches me off balance.

I’m dropping shopping.

Then all at once he’s holding me tight, like nobody’s ever held me. At least, not since… well, since he did… when Gillian died. I push him away to ask, “Who died this time?”

He says “I did, ya big lummox.” He hauls me closer.

I whisper, “Well, that’s alright then.” And it is.

‘Cause there’s this little loophole I’ve found called reincarnation.

 

11. Obvious Statement

Pizza and root beer – terrific! Lettuce and tomatoes I can live without; he puts them away while I light the stove and unwrap supper.

He doesn’t say a word. Still, neither do I. After so long a silence you’d think we’d have something to say…

I suppose he’s been busy or something, ’cause the place is a mess and, looky here — red reminders. What the Hell’s going on?

I wait ’til we’re eating, then wave a bill in his face.

“This…is overdue.”

He raises a bottle in a root beer toast, and says, “You can say that again.”

 

12. Environmentally Aware

He said, “We need to talk,” but he’s not saying much, slamming cupboard doors, looking for the trash bags I was supposed to buy. Compacting the contents of my garbage can with his foot to add the empty bottles.

The kitchen’s a mess. And suddenly I’m noticing I own a lot of clothes… and they all need washing. There’s stuff tossed everywhere. Someone break in again?

I rinse the plates — out of dishwashing liquid, too — and ask him how New York was.

“Ma thinks I need someone taking care of me,” he says, “But look at the state of you…”

 

13. Venture Capital

He ducks his head, embarrassed — not my intention and I can’t afford to screw this up so I say, “It ain’t so bad. We’ll get things squared away in no time…”

He looks up sharply and I’m expecting one of three things to happen when I tell him my next bright idea:

One — he’ll laugh his ass off.

Two — he’ll think I’ve got my head up my ass.

Or, three — he’ll knock me on my… you get the picture.

Instead, he goes real still — I can’t quite explain it — and, in panic I suppose, I blurt out everything at once.

 

14. Dharma And Karma

It’s about balance. When I’m logical, he’ll run the gamut from improbable to National Enquirer. So, based on the fact he’s showing his practical side, I suppose it means I’m pretty far gone.

Like I said — balance.

He says, “If we’re not partners, that’s eight, ten, twelve hours a day we’re not together. So, how about we get a place, and spend the rest of the hours… there. Together…”

I’m stunned. How do I merit that kind of commitment? I’m an asshole. A sonofabitch. Seriously fucked up — the precinct took a poll. Surely he doesn’t want this…

But, Jesus, I do.

 

15. Workmen’s Comp

He puts one hand on my shoulder, and just tugs. It’s enough, ’cause I’m already heading that way, and then there we are, hanging on and holding each other up.

We’ve always been close, but this is… close.

I’ve been worrying about all kinds of stuff: what I’m gonna do with my life, how I’m supposed to support Ma, stuff like that. And Hutch.

I worry about him. A lot.

I mean, look around. He’s kind of messed up. His place is a mess… and it stinks.

But, up close like this? I’m just thinking, “Nice here — I like this.”

 

16. A Cleansing Process

We didn’t sleep a wink last night.

I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t like that.

We cleaned house. And I mean cleaned — shit, we spent four hours just at the laundromat. Well, he did. I did more of the physical stuff — my mess, after all.

And we talked. About all kinds of things: the past, the future. Trivial things… and things of monumental importance.

Funny how we both supposed the end of us as working partners might mean an end to us as… us. Like the job was all that held us together.

And we call ourselves detectives?

 

17. The Uncertainty Principle

Working a case, when something grabs your attention, you check, and double-check, ’cause if you’re off just one tiny bit, it all goes down the can.

But you don’t see everything, which is why you have a partner. What you miss, he catches, and vice versa.

Only, Hutch ‘n’ me, we’d somehow missed this. Or mistook it for something else.

‘Cause I always supposed women were my thing. Female company; good fun, great sex. Thought Hutch thought so, too… for everything else, we had each other.

But now, tangled together half asleep, I’m 100% sure we’ve got everything, right here.

 

18. Spatial orientation

It’s dawn.

He’s tired, I’m tired, the bed’s right over there… ten steps, I suppose. Too far.

So we sink to the couch, a synchronized slouch that evolves into a full-length sprawl. His head’s pressed against my shoulder while his left hand has taken refuge inside my shirt; he holds my heart. The fingers of my own left hand span the curve of his neck to reach a pulse point.

Satisfied with the results, I tilt forward and turn to kiss his temple. But his head snaps back as if he’s poised to say, “…And another thing…”

Our mouths collide.

 

19. Practical Application

People — acquaintances, our brothers in blue — they got it all wrong. They think Hutch is difficult, persnickety. Demanding, like a needy kid. Well, what do they know anyway?

He’s not demanding. And he’s about the least needy person I ever met. Just the most in need… if you know what I mean.

Take love, for instance.

He doesn’t expect it, doesn’t assume it’s his by right. But — boy — does he ever need it.

He was gonna plant one right on my forehead. S’pose he thought that was all he was allowed.

Big dummy… Good thing I know what he needs.

 

20. Acts And Revelations

His kiss is unexpected. Gentle, sweet — root beer echoes from the supple cavern of his mouth.

The spark of my surprise is instantly extinguished. I am wrapped in his arms, blanketed beneath layers of the familiar and the unknown.

He acted…and I react, pressing my mouth to his. As on the streets, we are blessed now by a harmony of motion: no sharp elbowed fumbling, no eye-watering pain of bumped noses. His lips part, and my tongue crosses the threshold.

His closed eyelids flicker. He drones softly, from deep within.

Better than I ever supposed, his kiss is astonishing.

 

21. In The Final Analysis

My last first kiss was with Cyndy — two Ys — an ICU nurse. Funny how they all smoke… cheaper than valium, I suppose. Only, on our dates, she chewed gum. I did too, disguising the dog shit flavor of my meds.

We locked lips like a Wrigley’s commercial, Double Mint and Juicy Fruit — I guess it wasn’t meant to be.

Nothing like that here. Hutch’s lips are soft, sorta dry, and there’s that whole mustache thing happening.

His tongue slides sweetly over mine, his flavor’s light and clean… definitely my last first kiss.

This feels — he tastes — like a new beginning.

 

22. Eclipse

Disregarding daylight, we slept. Habit…need… Sheer exhaustion, I suppose.

I’m numb on waking. Paralyzed from neck to knee, wherever his body connects with mine. His head right here… his one arm there… his legs gripping my left thigh like a monorail train car. I am pinned in place, secured.

And secure.

I should be scared shitless. Not of him, not even of this but…

Me…it’s me I fear. My want, my need is at the forefront of my mind now. And it’s dangerous.

Maybe he already knows. In his gentle restraint lies salvation. For both of us.

 

23. Prolepsis

I know he’s awake — his breathing’s different. Funny the things you get to know about people, if you’re around them long enough. I suppose when you love someone enough, you pay attention to that stuff.

He’s not the most comfortable mattress in the world, but I can’t think of any other place I’d rather fall asleep, or wake up. His heart drums in my ear, and I feel his belly noises as vibrations in the palm of my hand.

Any minute now, he’s gonna want to get up… eat, pee… or just get away.

Like I’m gonna let that happen.

 

24. Arcanum

I’ve been here before, back when the future had a different definition.

A man I thought I knew, and knew I loved — or always supposed I did — I loved.

In every way.

I knew the length, breadth and heft of him in my hands, in my mouth, tasted the bitter-salted, warm meaty tang of him. Opened my body to him, for him. As he did, for me.

Later I learned that what I called love was nothing more than a great fuck. I want more, I want better. I want that… with this man.

Jack’s dead…and forever buried.

 

25. Aspiration

He jars me with his sigh. A test, to see if I’m awake, but is he?

Really? Suppose I try a little experiment, let my hand slide lower. Oh, yeah… he’s awake alright.

No pun intended but… how hard can this be? I feel the heat of him through the fabric of his pants. All I have to do is apply a little pressure and just the right rhythm. I’ve done it before, hundreds of times…

To me.

If I get it wrong the first time, with him, do I get a second chance?

I want to make this perfect.

 

26. Exigent

Oh, Jesus…

Does he have any idea what he’s doing to me? Is the gentle rocking of my hips indication enough? Will he realize he’s supposed to take it as a compliment when I cum in my pants? Which will happen… Any minute now…

I could tell him these things, but this moment — this first time — is incomparable. Incredible. I am too far gone already, way beyond the power of speech. The words are there, all crowded together in my head, but the pressure for release is somewhere else entirely.

A shift… I gasp… The wave crests, breaks…

I’m overwhelmed.

 

27. Emulous

He yells…

Sticky warmth spreads out under my hand and I smell bedroom scents — I’m turned on so bad I’m grinding against his leg like the neighbor’s dog.

I s’pose he doesn’t mind the mess, ’cause he scoots down until we’re face to face, applying mouth-to-mouth. He trails kisses down my neck, pulling my shirt up to reach my chest, my belly…

He slips lower, and I stop breathing; I’m dying. Again.

His mouth takes me, takes us somewhere new. The past’s passed. And, like this, maybe he’ll forget everything. Everyone.

You see…he talks in his sleep…

 

28. Episteme

I’m supposed to know this man? A man I call partner, and buddy, and sometimes moron, dummy, or worse. Who just breathed my name and called me ‘lover’.

His articulate hands hush abruptly, muffled in my hair, but there’s rough reassurance in the scrape of his nails against my scalp.

I recognize his every expression… recognized — past tense.

I know his fresh-scrubbed morning clean, the tired sweat of bad days, worse nights. And now, this — his sex smell, raw and heady. Urgent.

Foreshadowing the taste of him.

Knees scraping the floor, I earn absolution for the sin of ignorance.

 

29. Proselyte

Not putting too fine a point on it but I think he just blew my mind.

Someone’s yelling…probably me. I suppose that’s why he lurches up off the floor and slams his mouth over mine — to shut me up. I feel my voice bouncing around in the space where my brain used to be. Just one word, over and over — don’t ask me what.

Minutes later, his lips ease up on mine. I feel his smile shape when we disconnect.

I think he’s laughing at my hunger, but he says, “Your Ma’s gonna be pissed. I mean…‘Jesus’, Starsk?”

 

30. Caveat

If I don’t think too hard about it, I can excuse what happened as a freak occurrence. An impulse. And if you’re buying that, there’s this beachfront property in Arizona…

A kiss is just a kiss, a hand job doesn’t necessarily mean anything. But what I did was a calculated act — I saw an opportunity and took it.

So, feeding him his flavor on my tongue, I offer an ‘out’. He just kisses off his last chance. And, for me, there’s no going back.

I suppose I should’ve warned him. But nobody warned me that I’d want him so goddamned much.

 

31. Egence

He breaks the kiss, his hands drifting, his eyes still holding me.

I think I’m supposed to say something here. Something meaningful. Something like, “I love you.” But I can’t get past how he looks right now, with his stained pants and freshly fucked hair… Then he slicks his lips and it looks so… wanton.

I know I’ll say it all wrong, jumbled words spilling everywhere like soup, killing this moment. So I say, “Any chance you’ll be wanting to do that again sometime soon?”

That’s close enough to what I wanted to say, and what he needs to hear.

 

32. Tropism

Instead of pushing me away, he draws me close. And, God, how I’m drawn to him — the proverbial moth, featherweight and unsubstantial, and if I don’t wrap my arms around him, I’ll fly away like ashes in a breeze.

His tongue is welcome in my mouth, making its careful circuit as if to wash away the aftertaste. He should know by now that some things are indelible. Permanently etched like a tattoo. Like scars…

And scars, to me, are nothing more than proof of perpetuity.

He’s got a lot to learn…I suppose it’s only fair that I teach him.

 

33. Crucible

Blame it on the long, dry season, but it’s hot in here. Hotter still where he drapes over me — crummy mattress but a great blanket.

He shifts just a little and that’s all it takes to get me hard again, like steel.

He blushes, almost shy. And way too polite, too nice all of a sudden. This isn’t gonna cut it…

Like a thief, I dip my fingers into his pants pockets, pulling his crotch closer to mine, and grind upwards. Not subtle… not ‘nice’, I suppose, but he gets the message.

The look in his eyes gives me chills.

 

34. Diabatic

He says, “Bed, Hutch,” and before we’re even halfway there I’m naked and starting on his clothes.

I tumble us both down, stripping him, introducing my tongue to every inch of his skin, while he pants, “Tell me. Tell me what… How…”

Sucking his fingers into my mouth, how am I supposed to tell him anything?

Then, heavy-lidded, watching me as I rise above him, he suddenly knows. Trailing spit-slicked digits behind to where the action’s going to be, he’s still surprised when I open to his touch and impale myself, a willing sacrifice.

We groan in harmony.

 

35. Empyrean

Like a glove, his heat wraps my fingers. I feel him strain, his pain pulsing from stretched muscles, tension across every surface… but his mouth hangs loosely, gasping. He looks like an athlete, he looks like an angel, and he offers me something I didn’t even know I wanted.

Rocking forward, he’s free to move — and he does. Towards me, not away. Reaching back to grasp my cock in one hand, jacking me softly like he thinks I’ll break. Maybe I will…

“Think we’re ready, babe?” he whispers, and aligns us.

I’m supposed to think at a moment like this?

 

36. Esurient

His eyes are the center of my universe even as I slide roughly onto his length, even as I’m torn apart, heart and soul. The sensation of fullness is more than just physical.

I rise…and fall and rise, setting a rhythm that will make this last because it’s nothing like I remember… richer, sweeter, a higher high. Never to be forgotten.

His hands grasp my hips, my hands cover his to press them deep into my flesh. Tomorrow, I suppose, there’ll be bruises — already there is blood; I feel it.

In this sublime act, I know, is our beginning…

 

37. Hasbara

I think I’ve got it all figured out.

It’s how we’re raised, I suppose… us guys. We learn pretty early that we need girls… women…to prove we’re real men. A woman’s softness, her sweetness and fragile beauty. Stray off course and guys start pissing on you, putting you down.

Watching Hutch, I know I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than this man, lean-muscled, angular… and all man. I feel his power over me. His strength.

In a fair fight, he’d take me. But this ain’t fair — he’s taking everything, every inch of me, every scrap.

I surrender.

 

38. Onomatopoeia

Mrs. Starsky, I’ve corrupted your boy. Leastways, I hope I have… I don’t think he minds too much, judging by the way he yelled my name as he released.

I said his name, too — it came out as a gasp while I shot my load in slapdash spurts up to his throat. A hiss like steam, as the sweat poured from my face onto his belly…

I haven’t moved since: every joint has seized and, discounting the obvious, there’s not a single muscle that doesn’t burn.

Whispering, “Hey, Starsk, d’you suppose you’ll be waking up soon,” I mean soon, sincerely.

 

39. Epoch

Sorry, Ma — kiss grandkids goodbye. Not that I suppose for an instant you’d ever put your mouth where they just went!

But I’m pretty sure I will… One day my mouth’ll go over every inch of that body, learning him by touch alone. Gonna have to; I can’t look at him. If I open my eyes I’ll just want to fuck him again. And again.

Maybe we need a time out… and maybe he should stop clenching his ass ’round me like that.

I’m glad I died; now we’ve got all the time in the world to figure this out.

 

40. Vaticination

“So here’s the plan,” he says, “We buy a house–”

“Or a duplex–”

“Or maybe just another apartment, nothing fancy–”

“Kitchen…bathroom…bedroom…”

“With a real big bed–”

That’s as far as we get. Dropping heavy hints with his eyebrows, he makes an offer I can’t refuse and something in me stirs, comes alive.

He’s sprawling, spread-eagled, ready — willing to give up everything to me… For me.

We should look at that, discuss the implications. And we will… after I’ve loved him within an inch of his life.

This could take a while…

Like forever…