Placing the Blame

It was definitely Hutch/Starsky’s fault.

It was Hutch’s fault. No one could convince Starsky otherwise as he pushed open the door to Hutch’s apartment with his good arm. The one that wasn’t in a cast.

Grudgingly, he held the door open for his hobbling partner before going  to the fridge to get a drink. He hadn’t taken any of the prescribed painkillers yet and he was tempted not to both so he could have a beer. However, he knew the pain would get bad soon so he took out a root beer and took a seat at the kitchen table.

Meanwhile, with the help of his crutches, Hutch had managed to make his way over to the sofa and was easing himself down. He lifted his foot, which had a cast on from his toes to half way up his calf, and placed it on the table after first shoving a pillow under it.

It was Starsky’s fault and no one could tell him otherwise.

He opened the bottle of painkillers, desperate to finally take one and swallowed it dry. He would have preferred to have it with a drink, but he didn’t have the energy to get up again and he refused to ask Starsky for help.

The two partners sat in silence, the only sounds being the ticking of a clock and the slurps Starsky made as he drank his root beer.

Neither man wanted to be the first to talk.

For the first few minutes they were both too deep in thought to notice the silence, both secretly blaming the other one for what happened.

The next few minutes the silence became awkward, with both of them desperate to give the other a piece of their mind, but also refusing to be the first to talk.

Unfortunately, after nearly 20 minutes of silence Hutch became aware that he needed to pee. He’d had so much coffee that morning and the IV they’d put him on at the hospital had just added to his excess of fluids. He could probably get up without Starsky’s help, but he wasn’t sure if he could stand at the toilet. He wasn’t meant to put any weight on that ankle for a few days.

While he was thinking of a solution that didn’t involve his partner’s help, he heard his partner gulp down the rest of his drink, that just made him more desperate to go.

“Look Starsky…I…”

“So you’re going to admit it?” Starsky said, slowly turning to face Hutch.

“Admit what?” Hutch asked, confused.

“That this was your fault.”

Hutch was astonished. “My fault!? You’ve got some nerve saying that. It was your plan, so it was your fault.”

“Yeah, my plan, that you didn’t stick to.”

“That’s because your plan stunk. I would have been killed if I’d followed it.”

Starsky snorted. “That is so not true, Mr-Thinks-he-knows-better.”

“It was also your idea to take the assignment in the first place. Your assignment, your plan, your fault.”

“And your bonehead improvising that’s left us both crippled.”

“Hey, I’M the one who can’t walk.” Hutch waved a crutch at Starsky.

“Yeah and I’m left handed.” Starsky waved his casted left arm.

They both fell silent again. Both still convinced they were right.

“I have to pee,” Hutch admitted grudgingly. “Can you…please help me?”

Without having to answer, Starsky got up and followed Hutch into the bathroom. He helped Hutch stay balanced by allowing him to lean on his shoulder while Hutch took care of business with the other hand. They remained in silence through the whole ordeal and once Hutch had washed his hands, he hobbled his away back to the couch without Starsky’s help.

They took their seats again and the silence continued.

“There is one positive thing about all this,” Starsky said eventually.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“We got a couple days off before we start desk duty.”

“Yeah, two days either stuck in bed or stuck on the couch,” Hutch grumbled.

Starsky finally smiled. He made his way over to the couch and sat beside his partner. “If you admit it was your fault, I can make those two days very enjoyable.”

“I won’t be bribed.” Hutch leaned in a little. “It was your fault and you know it.”

Starsky slowly caressed Hutch’s thigh with his good hand and worked his way around to cup Hutch’s bulge, squeezing a little.

“Are you sure?” He leaned in and kissed Hutch’s neck.

Hutch swallowed, willing his body not to respond. “I won’t be..coerced.”

Starsky unzipped Hutch’s trousers and reached in, taking a firm hold, while he continued to suck and nibble at Hutch’s neck and ear. It was getting harder to resist. With Hutch’s penis freed from his trousers, Starsky started pumping, gently at first and then harder, faster.

“You…you know what?” Hutch gasped giving in. “Let’s just blame the fire escape. It was never going to take both our weights.”