Secrets

440

While Starsky visits his mom out east, Hutch goes to Vegas to spend a weekend visiting with some college buddies. Little does he know he’s been targeted by blackmailers and worse. Hutch is hurt in ways that have far-reaching consequences. Can Starsky save his partner? Or will he need help from an unimagined source?

---

Hutch

“What’s up with your partner?”

Starsky tossed his gym bag into his locker and closed the door. “Why do you ask?”

“He’s in the men’s room puking his guts out.”

That was unexpected. Hutch was just back from his honeymoon and seemed okay when he arrived at the station this morning. “Thanks, Miller. I’d better check on him.” Starsky hurried to the men’s room.

Hutch was exiting a stall as Starsky entered the room. “Are you okay? You look a little green.”

He went to the sink and rinsed his mouth several times, then splashed his face with cold water, ignoring Starsky and his concern. He grabbed a couple of paper towels and was wiping his face, when he caught his eyes in the mirror and a flash of loathing crossed his face. Before Starsky could say a thing, Hutch turned and rushed back into a stall and emptied his stomach again.

Starsky followed him in and tried to rub his back.

“Don’t touch me, Starsk. Go wait in the locker room. I’ll be out in a minute.” Hutch flushed the toilet, followed Starsky out of the stall and went back to the sink to rinse his mouth again.

Starsky frowned, but did as Hutch asked and left the room.

******

“Do you want to go home?”

“NO! I….” Hutch stopped himself from saying more and headed for the Torino. “I’m okay, Starsk. Let’s hit the streets.”

Starsky looked at him quizzically. Hutch wasn’t acting like a newlywed. In fact, he wasn’t acting like Hutch at all, but when Hutch closed himself off like this, Starsky knew he wouldn’t get answers anytime soon. He slid behind the wheel resolving to keep a close eye on his partner.

******

A month went by and Starsky found himself partnered with a Hutch he didn’t know. There was no more small talk between them, no hints at how Hutch was adjusting to a married life that had happened so suddenly, Starsky still couldn’t believe it had happened at all.

Hutch had met Trina Parks and her brother George Keller while on a long weekend in Las Vegas. It was said she was a beautiful young widow, fairly well off; her brother a successful businessman with contacts across the Midwest. One of them was an associate of Hutch’s father and had good things to say about the man.

Hutch extended the long weekend and quietly returned to Bay City a week later, with a wife and brother-in-law. Hutch gave up his apartment and the three of them moved into a pricey home in the hills together and began a lavish lifestyle that didn’t include any of Hutch’s pre-wedding friends.

A month later, Starsky had yet to meet Trina Hutchinson or see the place where Hutch now lived.

More hurt than annoyed, he showed up unexpectedly with a bouquet of flowers to introduce himself and found a party in progress. He wasn’t on the guest list and was turned away before he could even get out of the car. He tossed the flowers out of the window and was escorted off the grounds.

He’d intended to confront his partner at the station the following Monday, but Hutch was sick in the men’s room again, ignoring Starsky completely. He waited until they were in the Torino and out on the streets.

“Why are you still working, Hutch?”

Hutch sat quietly with his eyes closed. “For the same reasons you do. I’ve got bills to pay.”

“What bills would those be? I thought you came from money, married money. You’re certainly living like you do.”

“What are you talking about?” There was a bitterness in Hutch’s voice Starsky never heard before.

“I was there the other night. That was some party you and the missus were throwing.”

“You-you were there?” Hutch suddenly sat up and grabbed his arm. “Pull over, Starsk. Quick.”

There was panic in Hutch’s order and Starsky complied in a hurry. As the Torino rolled to a stop, Hutch opened the door, leaned out and vomited on the street. It didn’t last long. There wasn’t much in his stomach after the bout at the station. But Starsky waited quietly until Hutch sat back and closed the door, then he drove down the street and pulled into a fast-food drive thru.

“I don’t want—”

“Shut up, Hutch.” He barked an order at the speaker. “Give me a large hot coffee and a large cup of ice water.”

“Sir?”

“You heard me. Coffee and ice water.” Starsky didn’t wait for a total. He just pulled around to the window and handed the clerk a five dollar bill. She gave him his change and he pulled up to the next window to get his order. He handed Hutch the water, set the coffee on the console between them and pulled back on the street. He drove a block, then turned onto a side street and stopped.

“Rinse your mouth, Hutch.”

He sipped his coffee while Hutch got out of the car, rinsed his mouth and spat. After he pulled himself together, Hutch got back in and Starsky offered him the coffee. “Want some to take the taste away?”

Hutch shook his head, leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. “What did you see at the party?” he asked in quiet resignation.

“Not much. A handful of very well-off people in very swanky cars. I wasn’t on the guest list so I was turned away.”

“So you never—” Hutch sighed in what sounded like relief and stopped talking.

Starsky didn’t. “I thought it was past time I met your Trina, so I came to introduce myself. I brought flowers.”

Hutch scoffed softly to himself. “My Trina.” To Starsky, he said, “That won’t happen anytime soon. She and George have no use for my friends. Believe me, you’re better off not knowing her.”

“Hutch?” It was a strange thing to say for a man married less than two months.

But Hutch said nothing more.

The radio suddenly crackled to life. “Zebra Three, come in…”

Starsky took the call, started the Torino and headed out.

******

They worked steadily the rest of the shift. When it was done, they returned to the precinct, did their paperwork and parted ways.

Hutch went to his relic of a car, but instead of going to the fancy house in the hills, he drove to a derelict motel he now called home. It rented rooms by the week and he was there when he wasn’t at work, except for George’s weekly threesomes and the parties he was forced to attend.

He entered his room, locked the door, stripped and headed for the shower. He stopped at the full-length mirror on the bathroom door to examine the damage from last weekend’s party. The abrasions on his wrists and ankles would fade quickly, but the bruises on his body were darker this time. The men who had used him had been more brutal than the last one. George had charged a lot of money to inflict the injuries and those who’d watched had encouraged the cruelty. Next time would be worse.

He’d seen enough. Hutch entered the bathroom, brushed his teeth, took a quick shower then headed for bed. He didn’t bother with the TV. He set an alarm, turned off the light and slid between the covers, not expecting to fall asleep anytime soon.

He didn’t.

******

He’d gone to Las Vegas to meet old friends from school. If Starsky had gone with him, he wouldn’t be in this mess. But that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t Starsky’s fault he couldn’t hold his liquor. Starsky had gone east to visit his mom, so he’d gone to Vegas alone. It had been a fun evening catching up and he’d gone back to the hotel and ran into Trina and her brother in the lobby, waiting for the elevator. He’d been just drunk enough to be lured to her hotel suite for a nightcap ending in drugs and an incestuous three way.

He woke to fingers teasing his hole and the sound of his own voice begging to be fucked.

“Are you ready for more, Kenny?” It was a male voice teasing his awareness, matching the too-intimate fingers.

“Wha—?” He raised his head and opened bleary eyes. The TV was on, playing a sex tape and to his shock, he was the star. He watched himself pull out of Trina and beg George to fuck him. Watched George mount and use him, while he thoroughly enjoyed it. But to his horror, he heard himself whisper Starsky’s name when George came in him. He hadn’t even admitted to himself that he wanted his partner and here he was saying it out loud.

He came wide awake and rolled away from the touching fingers. “Why did you make this?”

George laughed. “Honeymoon video. You were already loaded when we met you. We just added a little something to your nightcap to make you more compliant. Cocaine and your libido did the rest. You can see we had fun. Then you married Trina and we celebrated some more.”

“I what?! No, I—”

“Yeah. You did. Marriage certificate is on the counter.”

Hutch blanched. “It can’t be legal. I don’t remember any of it.”

“This is Vegas, Kenny. For fifty dollars cash, anything can be legal here. You just have to show up.” Trina moaned in her sleep at George’s side and he smiled fondly down at her. “We wore her out last night. And you enjoy my cock even more than she does. You’ve wanted to do that for a long time, I think. Why is that? Daddy object to you taking it up the ass?”

The mention of his father gave Hutch a bad feeling. “I wouldn’t know. We’ve never had that conversation.”

“Well, keep the money coming and he’ll never know.”

“What are you talking about? He doesn’t support me. I have a job and I live my own life. I haven’t seen him in almost two years.”

“You don’t have access to daddy’s money?” George sat up frowning.

“No. I never did. Is that why Trina married me? To live the high life? That’ll be hard on a cop’s salary.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Yeah.”

“I wondered how you got this on the plane.” George pulled Hutch’s gun from underneath a pillow and waved it at Hutch. Hutch’s eyes narrowed. “Put it down.”

“Or what?” But George set it on the nightstand and leaned back again. He stroked his cock, watching Hutch. “Ride me, Kenny.”

“Fuck you, George.”

“I was thinking the other way round. I like being in your ass. Slide down on me, Blondie.”

“No!”

“That tape could be awkward, you doing drugs and all. And in a three way with Trina and me? Begging for my cock? What do you think daddy will say?”

Hutch shuddered. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Of course you do! Take my cock up your ass when I tell you to, or explain your honeymoon video to daddy and your cop buddies.”

He wanted to be sick, but George was impatient and aroused. Hutch edged over and straddled the rampant cock George held and slowly sank down on it, coming to rest in George’s lap, his cock deep in Hutch.

“That’s it, Kenny-baby. Now move!”

He closed his eyes and rode George’s cock, rapidly fueling George’s arousal and to his chagrin, his own. He panted, trying to fight it, but when George pinched his nipples, Hutch gasped and came. It triggered George’s orgasm, and his cock filled Hutch’s ass.

“You love it, don’t you? The feel of cock.” George wiped his wet hands on Hutch’s chest. “We have good times ahead. We’ll have to think of a use for you. But it doesn’t change things. If we can’t get money from daddy, we’ll have to get it from you. Maybe that tape is worth something. Go get cleaned up.”

Hutch pulled away and left the bed in silent shame. He did love it. Had been fantasizing about it for years, But not just anyone’s. He wanted Starsky’s. He hadn’t acted on it for the reasons George had mentioned—his father and the reactions of his fellow cops dealing with an outed gay cop. Tarring his partner with the same suspicions because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, no matter how many women they dated.

He knew now he had been targeted, because of his wealthy father, who had made even more money in business dealings with that associate of George’s. His father had known about the weekend and had planned to meet his much-loved son, but some last-minute business had interfered. Still, the gossip had piqued the interest of George and Trina. They thought Hutch had easy access to his father’s money and found out too late he didn’t.

But it didn’t stop the blackmail. Coming up with the money was on him. He wouldn’t risk his father or Starsky.

Hutch shocked friends and family by announcing his marriage to someone he’d just met when the three of them returned to L.A. together, to a house Trina had recently purchased in the hills. The first party had been the same evening, a homecoming of sorts, with a very select group of wealthy friends, all interested in meeting Hutch.

He hadn’t wanted to attend. He’d had his fill of Trina and her brother, but they wouldn’t let him leave. They stood in the master suite, listening to the party in full swing below them and casually got ready, removing their clothes and caressing each other with kisses and scented oils, while Hutch watched in disgust.

“Strip, Kenny. We’re missing all the fun and you’re not ready.” Trina ran her hands over her brother’s cock, giggling when it filled at her touch.

“No” Hutch said defiantly. “I’ll wait here.”

George backhanded him across the mouth, knocking him to the floor. “What did we tell you about that? Until we find a use for you, you do as you’re told. Strip, so we can get you ready. This party’s to introduce you and you’d better put on a damn good show.” He came up behind Trina, kissing her neck and cupping her breasts. “Or would you rather we invite daddy to the next one?”

Hutch stood and removed his clothes, not resisting while they prep’d him. Trina hooked a collar with a fancy gold leash around his throat while George took his time rubbing Hutch’s body with more of the oils, paying special attention to Hutch’s genitals and sliding a finger into his ass.

“You like that, don’t you? You couldn’t wait to take my cock up your ass on your wedding night. You begged so prettily.” George snickered and shoved his finger deeper. He leaned over and kissed Trina again before removing it. “Let’s go, baby. He’s ready.”

They led Hutch down to the party with the leash around his neck.

There were twenty or so people in the party room. All of them naked, having sex or watching it. There were trays of finger foods on tables along one wall, next to bowls of heavily spiked punch. In one corner was a DJ, taking requests and getting a blow job from his eager assistant, while in another was a table with cocaine, conveniently arranged into lines for sniffing by practiced users.

Trina and George entered with Hutch in tow, nodding to their guests and making their way to the small dais in the center of the room from where they could preside over the festivities like royalty. They settled into the bedding there and pulled Hutch down next to them.

He tried to ignore what was happening, but they wouldn’t allow it. George kissed his sister’s tit and finger fucked her, pulling it out and shoving it into Hutch’s mouth while Trina fondled Hutch’s cock.

One of the guests wandered over to watch Hutch suck George’s finger, wet from Trina’s cunt. “Nice party. So this is your new one.” He approved as George’s finger slid into Trina again, was offered back to Hutch. Hutch sucked it.

“Mistress Trina. I’ll give you a thousand dollars if you’ll let your pet suck my cock. I like his mouth. He knows how to use it.”

She squeezed Hutch’s cock. He closed his eyes and moaned softly.

“Make it five thousand and I’ll let him suck you dry. He likes the taste of cum. Don’t you, Kenny?”

Hutch said nothing, still sucking George’s finger.

“Agreed. Five thousand dollars and he swallows my cum.” The guest reached a hand into Hutch’s hair and closed his fist. “C’mon, ‘Kenny’ is it? Show me what you can do with that mouth.” He dragged Hutch to his hands and knees and Trina fed his cock to Hutch.

She watched Hutch suck the guest’s cock, then turned her attention back to her brother, spreading her legs and encouraging him as he entered her and drove his cock deep.

They pleasured each other while the guest watched and when Trina came on her brother’s cock with an excited gasp, the guest poured himself down Hutch’s throat and waited expectantly.

Hutch swallowed it and shuddered. The guest leered in satisfaction.

“How much to come in Blondie’s ass?” It was another guest, a well-hung linebacker, known for his prowess with the ladies. “I’m looking for something different tonight.”

“Fifteen thousand.” George reached out and stroked Hutch’s ass possessively.

The linebacker hesitated. “That’s a little steep. He’s obviously no virgin.”

“No, but he’s worth every penny. Tight, experienced and eager to please.”

“Fifteen thousand then, and he’d better be good.” The linebacker stroked his weeping cock and reached for Hutch. “C’mere, Blondie. Tight and eager is just what I need.” He pulled Hutch to him with oversized hands, exposed his hole and mounted him.

Hutch groaned in pain, wanting to struggle, but George smirked in warning. “That’s my boy, Kenny. Make daddy proud.”

Hutch closed his eyes and took a breath, pushing against the cock in his ass, forcing it deeper and squeezing it, then doing it again.

The linebacker growled in pleasure, then started moving, pounding into Hutch’s ass. “That’s it, Blondie! Take it deeper! I want this monster all the way in!”

But before Hutch could obey, the linebacker leaned over him, grabbed Hutch’s shoulders and pulled Hutch upright, plunging Hutch’s body down onto his cock. The move hit his prostate and Hutch gasped, coming for all to see, as he was ground into the linebacker’s lap. The linebacker howled in approval and filled Hutch’s ass with cum. When he was done, he bit Hutch’s neck in appreciation and pushed Hutch off his cock.

Hutch curled into a tight ball on the dais, as the linebacker stood to applause by smirking partiers.

“You were right, George. That ass was worth every penny. You’ll have your money before I leave.”

Trina ruffled Hutch’s hair like an owner rewarding an obedient dog. “Anyone else interested in our new toy? Pleasure guaranteed.”

Hutch serviced five cocks that night, sucking and being fucked for a price.

After the party ended, he escaped to a bathroom and spent an hour avoiding the mirror and trying to feel clean. He had one more day until he returned to work and faced Starsky’s questions and he needed to find someplace cheap to live. He’d already surrendered his apartment and he’d sleep in his car before he’d stay here.

George caught him in the hall outside the master suite. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out. I can’t live here.” Hutch looked past him into the bedroom, at Trina lying naked on silk sheets, playing with the nipples on her full breasts.

“What’s keeping you, Georgie?”

“I’m coming, baby.” He turned to Hutch and pressed a thumb to Hutch’s mouth. “You did good tonight, Kenny. Keep making us money and we’ll get along fine. But now it’s just the three of us. C’mon. We’ll play wedding night again before we sleep. I think there’s some cocaine left. Trina likes it when you suck her tits and I’ll let you fuck her while I’m in your ass.”

He laughed when Hutch shuddered and backed away. “All right then. Go. Live wherever you want. Just remember, you come when I call you. Keep your mouth shut about what happens here and be back by noon on the first of each month. Miss a party and we visit the in-laws with home movies of the honeymoon.”

He dropped the robe he was wearing and walked naked into the bedroom. “It’s just you and me, baby. Kenny doesn’t want to play. We’ll have another threesome early next week.” He crawled onto the bed between her legs and took a nipple into his mouth.

Hutch left.

******

The second party was like the first, except George charged more for Hutch’s body and he serviced more cocks while partiers watched. When he wasn’t being fucked, he sucked George’s cum out of Trina. George allowed no one to fuck his sister except Hutch and that only in the privacy of the threesomes he mandated. But George loved people watching them fuck and he relished sharing his cum with Hutch.

******

With the third party, things changed. There was still the party room with the amenities and constant sex, but the dais became an auction block for various playthings offered, with Hutch at center stage. When the bidding was done, he was led to a soundproofed playroom newly installed in the basement. There, those who paid admission could watch while those who won the bidding could do whatever they wanted to the playthings they purchased for the evening’s rougher stuff, new to the agenda.

Hutch was a prized, very expensive commodity. Anything could be done to him as long as the damage wasn’t permanent and could heal unseen by prying eyes.

Hutch was brutalized and humiliated before an audience who enjoyed it. He was hung from the ceiling and whipped bloody, fucked with objects designed to cause pain, even forced to suck the indulgent owner of a beloved mastiff while playing bitch to the owner’s dog. In this room, it no longer mattered if he objected. He could scream all he wanted and nobody cared.

He showed up for work barely able to function and Dobey sent him home. He returned a week later in better shape, but said nothing unless spoken to directly. He barely acknowledged Starsky, who no longer asked about his wife or married life, not knowing that Starsky had visited the house in the hills on multiple occasions and had been rebuffed each time by security protecting its residents from unwanted visitors.

******

The fourth party nearly killed him.

He was alone in the playroom when it was over, still hanging naked from the hooks in the ceiling.

“Look what you made me do to you. You shouldn’t have missed our threesome last week.” George came into the room and ran a hand over Hutch’s body, admiring the deep bruising and blood seeping from gouges on his torso. “I warned you. When I call, you come. But you didn’t. You could’ve had an easy evening of the sex you love so much—servicing the cocks I generously provide when I sell you to our friends.”

Despite the pain he was in from the beating, his body responded to George’s hand, and his own cock filled at George’s touch.

“You like my cock, don’t you, Kenny?” George leaned close and whispered in his ear. “You love it in your mouth, your ass.”

“Yes,” he whispered back. God help him, he was learning to want whatever George did to him, because pleasing George was becoming everything. He hadn’t intended to miss their threesome, but he was backing up Starsky and couldn’t get away. Didn’t want to get away, he tried to tell himself, but his desire for Starsky was a fading dream and his loyalty was in question.

George’s punishment had been brutal. He was auctioned off as a punching bag to a wannabe heavyweight who took his time breaking Hutch down.

George stroked him again. “Are you going to miss another one?”

“No. Never again.” He moaned when George stopped touching him. “Please….”

“Please what, baby? What do you want?”

“I want your cock in me as deep as you can go.” He put aside his thoughts of Starsky and offered himself to placate George.

George cut him down and mounted him. “That’s better, Kenny. It’s hard to stay mad when you excite me so much.” He pushed roughly into Hutch and Hutch groaned in agony.

“Does it hurt? Is that what you want? Maybe we can explore that more.” George shoved deep into Hutch and came. “You’re so eager to please me, aren’t you, Kenny?”

And he was. He was beginning to realize he’d do anything to win George’s favor. And George knew it.

“You’ll need time to recover, so we’ll skip next week’s threesome. Remember, so I don’t have to punish you again.”

And George was done with him.

Hutch made it as far as his car, but was unable to get into it to drive to the motel. Security dumped him inside and ignored him. It was mid-morning before he came to and managed to drive himself home.

 

Starsky

Nobody noticed the nondescript car keeping watch.

It followed Hutch at a discrete distance as he drove to the motel, parked and staggered to the room furthest from the office.

The driver parked, shocked to be here. Wondering what was going on, trying to decide what to do.

Nearly a quarter hour passed before Starsky got out of the borrowed car and approached Hutch’s door. He raised his hand to knock, but the door wasn’t shut tight. He opened it carefully and peered inside. “Hutch?”

The room was dark and there was no answer. Only chittering from an object lying on the floor.

Starsky flipped on the overhead, illuminating the tiny room with dim light. A pair of rats, worrying the object, scattered for a hole in the woodwork near the bath. The object was a naked Hutch.

“Hutch? Ohmygod!” Starsky rushed to his side.

He was unresponsive, beaten half to death, lying in a pool of blood. Starsky hurried to the bathroom for water and towels. He was carefully sponging Hutch’s face when Hutch groaned softly.

“Can you hear me, Hutch? Who did this? Stay still. I’ll get you to a hospital.”

“No…NO! Video will kill him.” Hutch’s whisper made no sense.

“Video? Hutch, talk to me. What video?”

“Honeymoon”

“How could a honeymoon video—”

Hutch interrupted, rambling in whispers. “Incest and drugs. Forced marriage. Wanted money.” Hutch opened blind eyes to stare at the ceiling. “I get it for them and they leave dad alone.”

“How? How do you get it?” Starsky washed blood off Hutch’s chest and found what looked like a rat bite.

“Party whore. I service anyone who pays while the others watch.” He snorted softly. “They auctioned my beating for fifty grand. Guy wanted to use bare hands. He wore rings.” Hutch’s voice was fading. “Can’t tell dad. Or Starsky…god, don’t tell Starsk. He’d be so angry….”

Angry? He was homicidal. One of the rats poked its head out of the hole in the woodwork. Starsky pulled his gun and put a bullet in its eye.

“When’s the next party, Hutch? Hutch!”

“Huh? Oh, first…always the first…until I’m dead. Even then….” Hutch passed out.

Two minutes later, the manager was banging on the door. “Open up, Hutchinson, or I’ll call the cops!” Starsky opened the door, gun in one hand, keys in the other. “I am the cops, mister, and you’re gonna help me get him outta this rat hole.” He handed the manager the keys and waved his gun at the car he’d come in. “Pull that car over here while I wrap him in a blanket. Make it quick.” The manager looked from the gun to Starsky’s face and ran for the car.

Together they got Hutch strapped into the front seat. Starsky went back inside, came out with Hutch’s gun and the dead rat, then locked the room behind him. “I’ll be back for his car and the rest of his things. Keep an eye on them.” The manager nodded mutely and hurried to his office.

Starsky tossed the rat in the trunk, then slid behind the wheel, trying to decide what to do. Hutch needed medical help, but Starsky needed to hide him and his apartment was the first place anyone would look. Hutch gave a soft moan as Starsky’s head cleared and his anger faded. He knew what he had to do now, but he would need help. He started the car and headed for Huggy’s.

******

It was a call he had to make. He needed the man’s help, cuz he couldn’t do it alone. But he wasn’t sure what to expect.

It was ringing.

“Brian Hutchinson.” The deep voice on the other end was all business.

“Mr. Hutchinson, we’ve never met, but I know your son. My name is Dave Starsky and I—”

“I know who you are. Is my son all right?”

Suddenly, it was a concerned father he was speaking to and Starsky focused on that. “No, sir, but he’s being treated. I need your help, but he can’t know. Not yet, anyway.”

“Talk to me, Dave.”

And Starsky told him everything he knew. About the coerced marriage, a so-called honeymoon tape, the blackmail and his son’s attempts to handle it on his own.

There was silence on the other end of the phone for long minutes. “Where is he now?”

“I found him on the floor in the dump where he’s been living. He was unresponsive at first. When he came to, he didn’t know me. He was delirious, but he talked. Said he’d been fucked—a lot—for money. That he allowed himself to be beaten for fifty grand at some damn party.” Starsky swallowed the rage he was feeling. “I couldn’t take him to the ER. Said if I did, the blackmailers would know and ruin you. They’d show you the tape and he was desperate to prevent it. A friend of mine knows a doctor who runs a street clinic. We’ve hidden him there.”

“Not good enough, Dave. I want him to have the best of care—”

“It’s the best we can do for now, sir. The doctor is reputable and the place is clean. If Hutch—if Ken—finds out we know, I don’t know what he’ll do. I’ve never seen him that desperate. Talked about doing this till he died. I only know we have less than a month till the next party. It’s on the first and I’m afraid they’ll expect another installment. His body can’t take it, but I know him. He’ll try.” Starsky tried to keep the anger out of his voice. “I want to be with him, but he’s terrified what I’ll do if I know.” He took a deep breath that didn’t help. “Maybe he should be.”

“I’ll arrange for someone to help at the clinic and give us hourly updates. Tell no one what you’ve told me. I’m on my way. Forget about the next party. This ends now.” Brian Hutchinson didn’t try to hide his anger.

“Yessir. If you’ll give me your flight info, I’ll pick you up.” Somehow, Starsky was relieved he was coming.

“No need. I’ll arrange for a car and a driver. I have a feeling we’ll need the show of wealth. But give me a number and I’ll call when I get in.”

******

Starsky had expected to meet Brian Hutchinson at the clinic where his son was being treated, but to Starsky’s surprise, he wanted to meet at the derelict motel where Hutch had been living. An exterminator was in the room, dealing with the rats living behind the baseboards.

Hutch didn’t have much there, but Starsky gathered it and locked it in the trunk of the Torino, while Hutch’s father talked to his driver and sent him away.

Afterwards, he got into the Torino’s front seat. “Drive us to the clinic, David. The driver’s gone ahead to make dinner reservations and deliver the invitation. Time to meet the in-laws.”

Starsky frowned. “Are you sure, Mr. Hutchinson?”

“Brian. Call me Brian, Dave. Don’t worry. I’m in town unexpectedly on overnight business, making an effort to see my son and meet his new wife.” He patted Starsky’s arm. “I’d invite you, but they know who you are and I need to know what I’m dealing with before I go any further.”

Starsky nodded and started his car.

******

The doctor friend Brian arranged for gave a quick update when they arrived at the clinic. “We’re testing the rat you shot for rabies. The exterminator will bring other samples, but I think we dodged a bullet there. We’ll know more soon.” He stopped outside a room and took a chart from the door. “We’re keeping him sedated for now. He won’t know you’re here. And maybe that’s for the best. What the hell happened, Brian? Someone took a whip to your son and while he healed, strung him up and used him as a punching bag. They avoided his face, but there are severe lacerations on his wrists and ankles, cracked ribs, multiple contusions and deep, deep bruising on his torso.” The doctor paused and studied the chart. “Umm….”

“Go ahead, finish it. I already know.” Brian said quietly.

“He’s been sexually abused. There’s evidence of a lot of it, but not as much tearing as I would have expected. Some of the sex was rough, but it looks mostly…consensual…. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We’ll talk more later. I want to see him now.” He turned to Starsky. “Come with me.”

Hutch looked better than the last time Starsky saw him, but it was a shock to his father. Brian hadn’t seen his son in almost two years and the change was profound. He was thin and drawn, almost lost in the tubes and machines he was hooked to, a shadow of the fit young cop he’d been.

“Christ, Booker!” Brian muttered under his breath.

“Booker?” Starsky looked at Brian, confused.

“Childhood nickname. Sometimes it slips out. What the hell was he thinking?”

“He was thinking of you. Trying to protect you and his mother.” Starsky edged close to the bed and laid his hand on Hutch’s brow. “They’re gonna pay, babe, I promise you, but first we gotta find that tape.”

“…no….”

He sensed, rather than heard the word his partner sighed. Not what he wanted to hear, but finally a step toward reconnecting.

 

George Keller

“Look at this, baby! Kenny’s dad is in town and wants to meet us.” He came in from the vestibule holding a handwritten invitation. Trina was pouring them each another glass of wine.

“He’s not coming here, is he, Georgie? I thought we’d stay in.” She handed him his glass, pouting at the news. “I’m still tired from the party the other night. Besides, Kenny’s not here and he isn’t working today, so you can’t get hold of him.”

“Yeah, I need to do something about that. But maybe that’s a good thing. He was beaten pretty badly and will need time to recover. We don’t want daddy asking too many questions.” He took the wine and handed Trina the invite. “No, he’s arranged a private dining room at some expensive restaurant near his hotel.”

“Have we ever been there?”

“No. But it sounds interesting and he’s buying.” George took a drink of the wine and leaned in to share it with her.

She swallowed the wine that flowed over her tongue. “Do we have to get ready now?”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her. “Dinner isn’t until eight tonight. Plenty of time for fun. I haven’t fucked you since the party and I miss your cunt.” He took the wine from her hand and set both glasses on the bar. “Come on, baby. Let’s go upstairs.”

In the master, he waited while Trina disrobed, then stripped him with willing hands. He pinched a distended nipple and she tittered.

“There’s a vial of cocaine on the nightstand. I can sprinkle some on me,” Trina offered.

“Save it for Kenny. I like watching him lick it off your tits. The high makes him eager to do anything I want.” He sent her to the bed and turned on the VCR.

“You like watching that, dontcha, Georgie? There’s something about Kenny that turns you on.”

He started the blackmail tape and joined her. “Suck me, Trina.” She went down on his cock as the tape began.

“Let me freshen your drink, Kenny,” Trina’s voice was soft, alluring, as she leaned against Hutch.

“No thanks, I’ve had enough.” He started to finish what was left in his glass, but she took it from him and kissed him.

“Can I interest you in something else?” She handed the glass to George and slipped a strap of her gown off her shoulder, exposing a breast. She took Hutch’s hand and pressed it to her nipple.

He squeezed it and gasped in delight when it hardened at his touch.

“She likes to have them sucked, Kenny.” George came up behind her, freed the other breast and offered them both to Hutch. “Go ahead. You know you want to.”

Hutch was drunk enough to do it. He moaned and took a nipple into his mouth. George touched Hutch’s mouth while he sucked Trina’s tits. “That’s it, baby. Trina likes your mouth. You excite her.” He pulled the cap off the small vial he held and sprinkled white powder on a wet nipple. “Try this.”

Hutch licked the cocaine off while George sprinkled it on the other. “And here…good boy.” Hutch licked the other one, panting in arousal, his inhibitions fading as he started to get high.

“Strip, Trina.” They both watched Trina step out of her gown and crawl naked onto the bed, beckoning with a sexy smile. “Look at her. She wants it bad. C’mon, Kenny. We can share her.”

Hutch pulled his clothes off, already hard, and joined her on the bed.

“Georgie?” Trina asked his permission as Hutch touched her.

“It’s okay, baby. Spread your legs and let him taste you. He nodded as she obeyed him and Hutch fucked her with his tongue. George quickly took his own clothes off and laid next to Trina. “Like that, Kenny? I’ll tell you a secret. I fucked her this morning. You’re tasting my cum.”

George loved this part of the blackmail video. Watching Kenny lift his head and lick Trina’s wetness off his lips. Sucking George’s finger when he touched Kenny’s mouth. But most of all, he remembered the excitement when he grabbed a handful of Kenny’s hair and pulled Kenny to his cock.

“Look at him, baby! He can’t wait to suck me.” Trina giggled as Hutch’s mouth closed on George’s cock and George hissed in pleasure. “Have you ever had a cock up your ass, Kenny-boy?”

He could tell by the look in Hutch’s eyes that he hadn’t, but he wanted it. Having a virgin excited him, especially one as needy as this.

“Fuck him, Georgie. He’ll belong to you like I do. You’ll have two of us to play with. That’s twice the fun.” Trina stroked Hutch’s hard-on and cupped his balls. “Look at that! Your cock excites him as much as it does me. Do it, Georgie! I want to watch.”

He pulled his cock from Hutch’s mouth. “Is that true, Kenny? Want to be my bitch?”

Hutch had no inhibitions left, high on whiskey and cocaine. “Yes. God, yes.”

“On your knees then, bitch. Beg me to fuck you like Trina does. Make me want you and I’ll come in your ass.”

It was better than fucking Trina the first time. He’d had no control then and both had come quickly. With Kenny, he took his time, enjoying the sensations as Kenny’s hole yielded slowly and Kenny begged to be taken.

As Trina sucked him, George studied the video, watching himself shove his cock deep into Kenny and savagely fuck him till Kenny screamed and came hard. He’d filled Kenny’s ass with his cum as promised and Kenny had sighed in contentment, whispering “Starsk.”

He didn’t know how he’d missed that. He’d watched this tape a dozen times. Kenny belonged to him now and did as he was told. But it wasn’t just his father Kenny was protecting. It was the partner he wanted and never had. George knew he’d been Kenny’s first, and with Kenny willingly selling it now, he and this Starsk would never get together.

But this partner was the leverage he needed to force Kenny home and back into his bed.

“I think you’re right, Trina. I’m tired of the parties. We need to take a break, bring Kenny home and under our control.” George stroked her hair as she sucked him.

Trina kissed his cock and lifted her head. “But what about the money?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. We’ve made a hefty profit selling him at parties. We may have gone too far auctioning that beating and if we’re not careful, we could kill the golden goose. That’s enough for now. He needs time to recover and he can do that here with us.”

“He won’t come.”

“He will if I tell him we’ll host a party and invite his partner to attend.”

Trina reached for the vial of cocaine on the nightstand and sprinkled a little on George’s cock.

“And I think it’s time to call Charlie. Kenny stands to inherit millions when daddy passes. There’s no reason to wait years for that to happen.”

“Georgie?”

“We didn’t need it with Steven’s daddy. Steven had access to his money. But we arranged Steven’s death.”

Steven Parks was Trina’s first husband, seduced like Kenny had been. But he’d had access to daddy’s money and they lived it up till daddy died. They continued the lavish life style for another year before Steve balked at George’s control. Trina played the grieving widow who inherited his money when Steven had the “accident” Charlie had arranged for George.

“But if daddy is dead, how will you control Kenny?” Trina didn’t really care. She licked the cocaine on his cock.

“He’ll do anything to protect his partner, whether he’s working or not.”

George re-started the blackmail video he’d been watching. Trina was right. Kenny did excite him. There was rougher sex he could explore with Kenny that he wouldn’t risk with Trina. And when he was done with Kenny and ready to move on, he would throw a special party down in the playroom for a few very select friends who would willingly pay huge sums to fuck Kenny to death while he watched and that, too, was exciting. “Ride me, baby. Take me deep. I’m ready to come.”

Trina mounted him and ground down, already coming as his cock slid in. Her eagerness pleased him. It always had. Kenny’s would, too, once his plan was in place. George’s orgasm was a powerful one.

 

Brian Hutchinson

He met them in the private dining room of the pricey restaurant he’d selected and he loathed them on sight. Trina was petite and beautiful, with dark hair, green eyes and a milky complexion. Her dress matched her eyes, a designer-exclusive, form-fitting sheath that barely covered her ample breasts. Her brother George was average everything—height, weight and build—but his eyes were penetrating, missing nothing as he stood possessively close to his sister. George was well-groomed and expensively dressed, with a Rolex on his wrist and a thick gold ring on the hand he extended to Brian.

He shook it quickly and let go. “I was expecting my son to be with you. Is he on his way? I’m anxious to see him. It’s been a while.” He waited to see what they would say.

George spoke for both of them. “He said he had some business to conduct and didn’t come home last night. I’m sorry. He doesn’t know you’re here. We had no way to get word to him.”

“Does this happen often? Him gone overnight?”

“Oh no, sir. He’s still working as a detective with someone named….” He turned to his sister.

“Starsky. He talks about him from time to time, but we’ve never met.” Trina volunteered.

“No? That’s odd. They’ve been partners for a while now. I would think my son would want to introduce you.”

“Kenny said his partner was upset that he got married. He said some—uncomplimentary—things about me and they fought.” Trina rubbed her brother’s arm as though needing his support. “They still work together, but I’m afraid my husband hasn’t forgiven him. He said we won’t be meeting anytime soon.”

Brian had to admit, their lies were smooth and well-rehearsed. But he knew what he was dealing with now. He had the preliminary reports from the investigators he hired when his son eloped and the rumors started. Then David called and he learned of the blackmail and the missing pieces came together. He was a consummate businessman, who had amassed a fortune because he trusted his gut. It told him these two were dangerous, but so was he.

“Since he won’t be joining us, let’s sit and get to know each other, shall we? You must be hungry.” He reached for Trina’s arm, was skillfully rebuffed by George, who escorted his sister to the table and pulled out her chair. As she settled in it, he stroked her shoulders possessively and she preened at his attention.

Brian nodded to himself. They were intimate and didn’t care who knew. If they were willing to be filmed in a compromising threesome, he could see why his son panicked.

The dinner was drawn out and expensive, but he didn’t eat much. They made small talk that amounted to nothing and he dangled the idea of rearranging his schedule long enough to stop by the house in the hills in the morning to see his son. To his surprise, George agreed.

“Kenny should be home late tonight, Brian. We’re having brunch tomorrow with Charlie Grisham, a business associate of ours. Join us around ten. Will that work for you?”

Absolutely, asshole. “I’ll make it work. Tell my son I’ll see him at ten. Have a good evening.” Brian paid for the meal and let himself out.

******

He showed up at the house in the hills at six thirty five the next morning, wearing jeans and an overlarge hoodie hiding most of his face. He surprised the lone security guard outside the tiny office where the phone and camera monitors were. Five minutes later, the phone lines were cut, the monitors disabled and the guard was trussed up, unconscious on the floor. He spurned the guard’s gun for the knife he wore in a sheath on his arm and headed for the house.

He entered quietly, seeing no one. What he wanted, he expected to find in the master and he followed the voices he heard upstairs.

He called softly. “George? Trina?”

And there they were. Both were naked on rumpled sheets, Trina sleeping and George aroused, watching a video that flickered in the candle-lit room. He recognized the voices—Trina and George exhorting, and his son Ken, begging to be fucked. It had to be the blackmail tape and what he heard angered him more.

“What are you doing here?” George demanded. He paused the tape with the remote he held. Trina snuggled closer, still asleep.

He entered the bedroom. “What do you mean? You invited me.” He looked around. “Kenny talked about you and the things you do here.”

“Oh, did he? He and I will have to chat about that, so he doesn’t do it again. Did he mention his honeymoon? Maybe you’d like to watch….” George smirked at Brian, re-wound the tape and blatantly hit play.

On the screen, his son had obviously drunk too much and Brian watched him lick the cocaine George sprinkled on Trina’s nipples.

“Did you know he did drugs?” George expected outraged denial. Wasn’t prepared for the nonchalant advice.

“He’s done them before. Last time was heroin and it got messy. Just don’t get him hooked. Nobody wants to fuck a junkie.” Brian looked from the video to Trina on the bed. “My son has excellent taste. Trina has a sexy body. I wouldn’t mind sucking those tits myself.”

“She loves being sucked. And your son loves my cock. He’s here every week begging me to fuck him.” George fondled his cock and aimed the remote to stop the tape.

“Let it run.” Brian stepped out of his jeans and unzipped the hoodie. “It sounds like submission increases his pleasure. I should try it. Maybe it’ll increase mine.”

“We can do that. Lose the hoodie. Have you ever sucked cock?” George set the remote aside and beckoned him closer.

He took off the hoodie and approached the bed. “No, I haven’t. And I’m not about to start now.” He pulled the knife from its sheath on his arm and plunged it into George’s chest. George gurgled as Brian struck again, then he calmly and deliberately slit George’s throat.

Trina woke as George’s blood splattered her body, but before she could scream, Brian slit hers, too. He watched her bleed out next to her brother, while the tape played on behind him, Kenny screaming in orgasm and contentedly whispering Starsky’s name.

It didn’t surprise Brian. He’d suspected for a while now that his son was attracted to his partner and now that he’d met Dave Starsky, he knew Dave was interested, too. They just hadn’t acted on it yet. He sighed heavily. He liked Dave and knew he’d be good for his son. But if Dave was right about Booker’s ramblings, his son would never agree to it now. Because of George, he’d never risk that kind of intimacy with anyone.

He wished he could kill George Keller again.

Instead, he padded to the bathroom and rinsed himself and the knife off quickly, returned and dressed and prepared to leave. He regarded the mess on the bed dispassionately, then ejected the cassette from the VCR. He tore out the tape and piled it loosely on the bedding, then coolly tipped some of the flickering candles onto it. As the tape burned and the bedding caught fire, flames spread toward the bodies. He walked out, knife back in its sheath, face hidden by the hoodie.

******

By mid-morning, he was Brian Hutchinson again, caring father concerned for his son. He had his driver take him to the street clinic and spoke to the doctor attending him.

“How is he, Tom?”

“I won’t lie to you, Brian. It’ll take time. He’ll need to be hospitalized at least another week, but physically, I expect him to heal. Mentally, he’s a mess. He’s going to need therapy to come to terms with whatever was done to him. He says it’s his fault.”

“He’s awake?”

Tom sighed. “Not really. We don’t want to heavily sedate him anymore and we’ve reduced the meds substantially, but he’s fighting consciousness, clinging to…fantasies? Dreams? I don’t know. But he’s talking. Dave’s with him now.”

“Thanks, Tom. I owe you.”

“No, you don’t. Your donation last year helped a lot of people. Can you break away for lunch?”

“Sorry, I can’t. I have to be back in Duluth tonight. I had an early morning meeting and came straight here. My flight leaves at one and I still need to check out.”

“Well, maybe next time. I’m sure you’ll be back soon.” Tom patted his shoulder and turned away.

Brian went to the room where his son lay and watched covertly from the hall. Starsky leaned over him, holding his hand, stroking his hair.

Hutch seemed better for a few minutes, then stirred suddenly. “Don’t.”

“Babe?”

“Don’t touch me, Starsk.”

“Why not? I used to touch you all the time.”

“And I used to let you.” Hutch was fretful. “But that was the before days. I’m married now and George won’t like it.” He closed his eyes and his voice faded. “You deserve clean and I’m not.”

“What are you saying, Hutch? Hutch!”

“Huh?” He frowned, unable to focus as Starsky stroked his forehead. “What are you doing here? You can’t know.” He lay quietly, drifting in and out of a twilight awareness. “Stay away from George, Starsk. He sells my ass when he’s not using it himself. Don’t hate me. I let him. I only wish….” He turned his head away. “It doesn’t matter now. Nothing does.” The words died away as Hutch passed out.

Brian sighed, knowing what his son wished. “Dave.” He summoned Starsky from the doorway.

“Mornin’, Brian. How’d supper go last night?” Starsky didn’t take his eyes off his partner.

“There’s no love lost between us. The only thing that impressed them was my money.” Brian watched Starsky watch his son. “I’d like to know how you think he’s doing.”

“He’s hurting, Brian. I want to help, but he won’t let me. He won’t talk to me at work. And away from work, I can’t get near him with that brother-in-law hovering and the security he has in place.” There was a faint moan from the bed and Starsky took a step toward it.

“Why was he living in that rat hole?”

“I didn’t know he was till I followed him there and found him on the floor. Scared the hell outta me.”

“Me, too. I’m glad you called.” Brian looked at Starsky. “I want you to do me a favor, son. Don’t give up on him. He’s gonna need you.”

“Maybe so, but not as much as I need him.”

Brian nodded, satisfied. “I’d better go. I have a flight to catch.”

“What about that blackmail video he’s so concerned about?”

“Let me deal with that. They want money. Money I’ve got.”

“Starsky!”

The voice was unexpected. Captain Dobey came around the corner from the lobby. “I need to talk to you.”

“Captain Dobey, this is Brian Hutchinson, Ken’s father. I called him when I found Hutch. When he arrived in town, I brought him here.”

“Glad to meet you, Sir.” They shook hands, then Dobey said, “Is Hutch awake yet? How’s he doing?”

“My son is in rough shape, but is expected to recover. It’ll take some time, though. He’s been through a lot and it’s taken a toll.”

“I’m not surprised. He hasn’t been the same since that marriage of his. Something wasn’t right, but he wouldn’t talk about it.” Dobey looked from Brian to Starsky, reluctant to continue. “I got a call this morning. Ken’s wife and her brother are dead. Their bodies were found in a burning bedroom in their house in the hills this morning.”

“Dead! What happened? I had dinner with them last night. They didn’t mention any trouble.” Brian looked at Starsky and they both looked to Dobey.

“They aren’t sure yet. Details are sketchy. Security said an intruder attacked the guard. He was found unconscious and trussed up in the office with the system knocked out. It looks like he was targeting the wife and her brother. He knew where to go and nothing was taken.”

Dobey looked thoughtfully into the room at Hutch. “Both bodies had their throats cut. The fire wasn’t an accident, but it wasn’t intended to hide what was done to the bodies.”

Starsky frowned “How can they tell?”

“No accelerant was used and the fire didn’t start with them. The intruder tipped lit candles onto something on the foot of the bed. It caught the bedding & the bodies while it burned. The smoke alarm triggered and the fire department showed up and put the fire out.”

Dobey looked at both of them. “How soon can he be interviewed? The investigators want to ask him some questions.”

“Questions about what? My son has been sedated here for the past few days.” Brian objected.

“Where he’s been. The parties held there. Possible enemies. The staff isn’t talking, but the neighbors are. Security says Hutch hasn’t been living there, but he’s been in and out.” Dobey sounded flustered. “And drugs were found in the bedroom.”

“Then they can talk to my son’s attorney. He’s in no condition to be interviewed.” Brian was adamant. “Excuse me. I’d better make some calls and change my plans.”

Dobey turned to Starsky. “What’s going on, Starsk? Has he said anything yet?”

“Nothing that makes sense, Cap. But if any of what he says is true, I’m amazed he’s alive.” Starsky looked back at his partner and sighed heavily. “So it’s true? They’re dead?”

“Yeah, they’re dead.”

“Good. Then he’s safe.” Starsky took a step toward Hutch as a moan came from the bed. “God, he’s hurt bad. He’s gonna be off work for a while.”

“What about you?”

“Cap?”

“Are you taking time off, too?”

“Maybe when he wakes up. He’s gonna need help and a place to live. He can’t go back to that rat trap.”

“I’ll try to keep them off his back for now. Make sure he has a lawyer. I think he’s gonna need one.”

“Sir?”

“This is a monied crowd, Starsky. You know what will happen when the media gets hold of it.” Dobey patted Starsky’s shoulder and left.

 

Hutch

The close-held dream was mixed with pain. In it, Starsky was with him, talking softly and they were touching like they used to, when he thought he had a chance of loving his partner one day. But the pain reminded him it was gone now, never to return.

They’d taken away the drugs and woke him to tell him Trina and George were dead, that he was free of the travesty of his marriage, but he wasn’t. People were asking questions he couldn’t answer. Questions he wouldn’t answer. Questions that hinted they knew he’d been a whore and liked being fucked. He just needed to admit it and they’d let him move on. But it meant he’d betrayed Starsky and couldn’t be his partner.

So, he clung to the dream. To a time when he had something to offer a lover. The dream was all he had.

******

Another investigator came and went. More questions asked and unanswered. He needed to get out of this place, go somewhere he could be alone and decide what to do.

Hutch disconnected himself from the monitors and carefully stood. A nurse came running into the room. “Mr. Hutchinson! What are you doing?”

“Leaving. You can’t keep me here.” He looked around for his clothes and shoes, found none and sighed. He didn’t let it stop him, though, and he walked into the hall in the hospital gown they’d dressed him in.

“Ken!” A doctor friend of his father’s was at the nurses’ station. “You aren’t supposed to be out of bed!”

“Tom Barclay, isn’t it? I’m leaving, Doc. I’d appreciate it if you’d get me a set of scrubs and loan me twenty dollars. I’ll pay for them and see you get your money back this afternoon.”

“You need to go back to bed—”

“I need to get out of here. Are you going to help me or not?”

“And go where, Ken?”

Hutch shrugged off the question and turned away, muttering “I’m a ghost. I’m saying the words, but nobody’s listening.”

Dr. Barclay took his arm. “C’mon. Let’s get you back to bed.”

He pulled free. “Don’t touch me, Doc.”

He looked around at the staff in the hall and realized they didn’t want co-operation. They wanted obedience. That’s all anyone wanted from him anymore. He had no choice, so he obeyed. Hutch returned to his room without another word, got back into bed and stared at the ceiling. Even the dream was gone now and he had nothing left.

 

Dave

“And go where?” Starsky was back, after a long couple of days on stakeout, on loan to another precinct, tracking a shipment of guns gone missing while on their way to be destroyed. They got lucky and retrieved the guns after a shootout that killed one of the thieves and wounded a cop.

Dr. Barclay shrugged. “He didn’t say. I don’t think he knew. He wanted scrubs and a twenty dollar loan. When I insisted he go back to bed, he did. But he hasn’t spoken a word since. If someone touches him, he screams. Otherwise, he lays quietly and stares at the ceiling.”

“What do you mean, ‘he screams’?”

“Just that. He won’t be touched. Frankly, I was hoping you could get through to him. I’m afraid he’s on the verge of a breakdown.”

Starsky glared at the doctor. “Anything else I should know?”

The doctor shook his head.

“Then get me a set of scrubs and—never mind.” Starsky left the nurses’ station and went out to his car. Hutch’s belongings from the motel were still in the trunk. He pulled out a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans and went back inside.

“Hutch? Babe? How ya doing?” Starsky entered Hutch’s room, shocked to find him slack-jawed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He dropped the clothes on the chair, took Hutch’s hand and leaned over and kissed his forehead. “C’mon, Hutch. Talk to me.”

Hutch’s nostrils flared slightly, as though being teased by a lost dream. “Starsk….” he whispered softly.

“I’m here, babe.” Starsky brushed stray hair off Hutch’s forehead.

Hutch sighed. “I wanted to tell him, say I’m sorry, but he didn’t stay to hear it. He’s gone now.” He looked at Starsky with unseeing eyes. “I tried to leave, but they wouldn’t let me.”

“Where did you want to go, Hutch?” Starsky stroked his hair.

“Home. I want to go home. It’s safe there. Quiet. I need to think.”

Starsky frowned. “Where’s home, Hutch?”

“Motel. I have a room there. It’s all I can afford. But it’s safe. George’ll never look for me there. Too many rats.” Hutch laughed softly. “No use for family unless he can fuck them or sell them.” He was silent again for a time, then asked anxiously, “Can I go home now? I have to be ready to go back to work. Dobey won’t like it if he has to send me home again.”

“Yeah. You can go home. Let’s get you dressed and I’ll take you.” Starsky helped him sit.

“I don’t have any clothes. I tried to get dressed before, but they wouldn’t give me anything to wear.” Hutch fretted as he tried to untie the hospital gown he wore.

Starsky unknotted the strings on the gown. “I have your shirt and jeans. No shoes though. We’ll have to get you some.”

“That’s okay. I have money. It’s hidden in my room. And my car is there. I just need a ride home. Or loan me bus fare and I’ll pay you back.” Hutch stood and shed the gown, waited naked by the bed.

“What are you doing?” An aide walked into the room unannounced, carrying a lunch tray.

“We’re leaving. Keep the tray. He doesn’t need it.” Starsky picked up the clothes he had for Hutch and handed him the sweatshirt. “Put this on, then I’ll help you with the jeans. You look a little shaky.”

The aide set the tray on the bed table and hurried out to find a doctor.

They were almost ready to go when Dr. Barclay entered the room. “What are you doing, Dave?”

“I’m taking him home. It’s what he needs right now, Doc.” Starsky deliberately slipped an arm around Hutch’s waist and Hutch allowed it. “I’ll stay with him and call you later.”

Dr. Barclay nodded and reluctantly stepped aside.

“C’mon, Hutch. Let’s go. Watch your step. You’re barefoot.” And Starsky led him out to the parking lot.

“Is this your car, Dave? My partner drives one just like it.” Hutch touched the hood of the Torino as Starsky opened the passenger door.

“Yeah. It’s mine.” He waited while Hutch came around and slid in, wondering if leaving the clinic was such a good idea. But Hutch was talking and allowing his touch, even if he wasn’t quite sure who he was. Starsky shut the door and went around to the driver’s seat.

******

High noon and the overhead sun showed just how decrepit the motel Hutch called home really was. Starsky left him in the car and went into the office to talk to the manager and get the key to the room Hutch had used.

“Why should I let him back? Last time he was here, you shot up the room.” The manager was uncooperative.

“I shot one of the rats infesting the place. It bit him. Give me the key, you son of a bitch. He’s paid up till the end of the month.”

The manager glared, but handed Starsky the key. “Tell him he owes for the cleaning. The place was a mess. And you took a blanket. He owes for that, too.”

Starsky didn’t bother with a response. He took the key and went back to the Torino. Hutch was asleep in the passenger seat. He got in, drove down to the end room and parked. “Babe? You’re home.”

Hutch opened groggy eyes and looked around. “Thanks for driving me home, Dave.” He opened the car door. “You’re welcome to come in, but I don’t have any coffee.”

Starsky touched his arm. “The manager wants payment for the blanket I wrapped you in when I took you to the clinic.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got it inside.” Hutch got out.

Starsky followed. “I’ve got the key.” He opened the room and flipped on the dim overhead.

“Hmm. That’s odd. There’s usually a rat or two running for the hole in the wall when the light goes on. I’ve kinda gotten used to them,” Hutch said matter-of-factly as he went over to the nightstand and pulled out the drawer. Taped under it was an envelope with cash in it. Hutch counted out fifty dollars, then put the envelope back and re-inserted the drawer. “Do you think twenty dollars is enough for the blanket? I need to get some shoes so I can get back and forth to work. There’re work shoes in my locker. I have to be careful though. Money’s tight. I’ve missed a lot of work and there’ll be rent due soon.” Hutch held out twenty dollars and stifled a yawn.

“Keep it. I’ll pay for the blanket. Why don’t you take a nap? We can get you shoes and something to eat when you wake up.”

“You sure? I could use one.” Hutch pulled back the covers and sat down. “Do you want to take one, too? George won’t know we shared the bed and I’ll be careful not to touch you.”

Starsky watched him carefully. “George is dead, Hutch. So’s Trina. Remember? Someone killed them last night. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Hutch sighed softly. “Sure they can. They made a video of the three of us doing drugs and having sex.” His voice dropped as he explained. “I begged George to fuck me, Dave. I was drunk and high and I wanted it. Wanted Starsky. And when George fucked me, I thought it was Starsky and I enjoyed it.” He looked at the shocked expression on Starsky’s face. “He doesn’t know. He never will. But when all this comes out, they’ll know I was a whore and I’ll get kicked off the force.” Hutch laughed bitterly. “At least I can support myself between arrests for prostitution.” He looked around the shabby room. “I won’t bring them here, though. I’ll need someplace that’s mine alone.”

“No tape was found.” Starsky muttered, thinking about what Hutch said.

“Doesn’t matter. There were a dozen guys at those parties and most of them fucked me multiple times. That doesn’t even count what they did to me in the playroom. They enjoyed watching and a lot of money changed hands. People will talk.” Hutch laid down and rolled to his side, facing the wall. “It’ll destroy my dad and ruin my partner. It’s all my fault.”

“No. Don’t say that.” Starsky turned off the overhead, kicked off his shoes and laid down next to Hutch. He lay quietly for a few minutes, then softly touched Hutch. “Why did you let them hurt you like this? You could’ve died.” The tortured flesh on Hutch’s body was hot against his fingertips.

“I wish I had. I wanted to. But George wanted money and it’s the only thing I had to sell. It’s a fitting punishment for allowing this to happen. I can’t explain any better than that.” Another yawn escaped him. “Sorry.”

“Get some rest. We’ll talk more later.” Starsky pulled the blankets over them both and closed his eyes. Hutch’s words weighed heavily on him, but listening to Hutch’s breathing settle down was a comfort after months of not knowing. Eventually, he slept, too.

******

“Dave?’

The whisper was accompanied by soft touches to his face, as though the fingers didn’t believe he was there.

He rolled over and gathered Hutch in his arms. “Shh, Booker, go back to sleep. You’re safe and you need the rest. No one will bother you here.”

Hutch pulled back and put his hand to Starsky’s chest in the dark. “You’ve been talking to my dad. He knows, doesn’t he? Does Starsky know?”

‘What do you mean?”

“You called me ‘Booker.’ Only my dad calls me that anymore.”

“What does it mean?” He covered Hutch’s hand and gave a gentle squeeze.

“I read a lot as a kid. Always had a book in my hand. My grandmother called me her bookworm. It got shortened to ‘Booker’ and stuck. Family used it until I got into high school. Dad still does when we’re alone or if he’s upset about something I’ve done. I guess he’s upset. Is he coming here?”

Starsky wondered how much to tell him, decided the truth was best. “He’s already come and gone. He came to see you, but you were sedated. He couldn’t stay. He’ll be back.”

Hutch said nothing for long minutes, then sighed in resignation. “So he knows. Let me guess. I have a team of lawyers standing guard and hand-picked medical personnel reporting to him.”

“One lawyer, one doctor. I don’t know the lawyer, but you know the doc. Tom Barclay.”

“Yeah, I know Tom. He would have given me a thorough physical, so my father knows. Starsky, too, I imagine.”

“He knows.”

“That’s it then. I ruined three lives because I couldn’t hold my liquor or keep my pants zipped.” He pulled out of Starsky’s arms, turned back to the wall and sat up. “Any idea where my car keys are, Dave? I need to run some errands, get something to eat. If you want, I can bring you back a burger.”

“Booker….”

”Don’t”

Starsky watched him climb out of bed, flip on the overhead and open the dresser drawer.

“Where are my clothes? Did you take them, Dave?”

“They’re in the trunk of the Torino.”

Hutch didn’t even look at him. “George sent you, didn’t he? You’re supposed to bring me back.” His shoulders slumped, then straightened. “Okay. Let’s go. Unless you want to fuck me first. You got me away from Starsky and my dad. I guess you earned it.” He pulled the sweatshirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. “The only thing George will care about is he didn’t get to watch.” Hutch took off his jeans and went back to Starsky on the bed. “It won’t take long. Just put your cock in my hole and shove.” He climbed on the bed on his hands and knees and bowed his head. “Don’t worry. No charge.”

“Hutch, NO!” He got off the bed and stepped away.

“Would you rather I suck you instead? I can do that.” Hutch looked around in the soft light and sat back on his heels. “I guess I won’t need a safe place after all. George will never let me leave again.”

Starsky reached out and touched Hutch’s face. “George is dead, Hutch. Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Hutch sighed in resignation. “You’re taking over. Could I ask a favor? Could I service your friends somewhere other than here? I’ll go wherever you want, whenever you want, but I need a place where I can clean up and lie to myself.”

Hutch didn’t wait for an answer. He grasped Starsky’s zipper and began to pull it down. “Let me help you with this, Dave.”

Starsky slapped him. “Enough! Get dressed! We’re getting outta here.” He stepped aside as Hutch rubbed his cheek and slowly got up for his clothes. While Hutch dressed, Starsky pulled the nightstand drawer out, grabbed the envelope and tucked it in his jeans.

Hutch watched mutely. Starsky sighed and took his arm.

“Don’t touch me.” Hutch pulled away and stood apart.

Starsky looked at him in shock. “What?”

“I said don’t touch me. Just take me wherever you’re going to. I’m ready.” Hutch walked out of the room and headed for the Torino.

Starsky followed him out and drove back to the clinic.

 

Brian Hutchinson

He was back two days later, angry to find his son unresponsive, staring at the ceiling. “Wake up, Booker! I need you to talk to me.”

The reply was slow in coming, as Hutch blinked and struggled to focus. “Sir?” He didn’t look at his father.

“Do you know where you are?”

His son glanced indifferently around the room. “Hospital. Dave brought me back here.”

“Do you know why?” He’d already had a long talk with Dave Starsky.

Hutch touched his cheek where Starsky had struck him. “Yes, Sir. He said George and Trina were dead, so he couldn’t take me back to them. He took my clothes and money and I thought he was taking over, but when I said he could fuck me, he hit me like George would when I said the wrong thing and he brought me back here instead. I have no place else to go.”

Brian’s anger faded. He reached out and touched his son’s cheek. “Why would you do that, Booker? Offer yourself like that?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t know what else to do. It was the arrangement I had with George. It got George the money he wanted. When he confiscated my stuff, I assumed Dave wanted the same thing. I was trying to protect you and Starsky when I agreed to it, but I wasn’t, was I?” He lay quietly for a time, then muttered, “I made stupid choices because I was drunk and high, then I couldn’t undo them and things got worse. I can’t seem to stop making the same mistakes. I’ve become an embarrassment.”

“An embarrassment. Because of what was done to you, or because you’re gay?”

“I’m not….” He snorted softly to himself. Time to stop denying the truth. “Yeah, I guess I am. But it won’t matter who did what to me. Once people know I’m gay, they’ll say I’m promiscuous, that I went to those parties so men could fuck me and I enjoyed it.”

“Did you? Enjoy it?”

And there it was. Even his father wanted to know something he couldn’t admit to himself. Did he enjoy it? No, but he could. The truth was he craved penetration…but only by Starsky…and that would never happen now.

There was sorrow in his father’s eyes and he spoke earnestly. “I’m sorry, Sir. None of this is your fault. You were a good father to me and I shamed you. It won’t happen again. As soon as I apologize to Starsky, I’ll disappear. When this gets out, feel free to disown me. No one will blame you.”

”It won’t get out. No one will know. And even if they do, you haven’t shamed me, son. You made choices trying to protect the ones you love. Choices that almost got you killed. Who you are had nothing to do with that. Stop being so hard on yourself. Let me help.”

He looked at Brian apprehensively. “I’m not asking you for money, Sir. I remember our agreement. I pay my own way and you leave me alone to live life on my terms. I blew it. I just have to get my things back from Dave and I’m out of here.”

“Booker—”

But his son was gone again, his attention turned inward. Brian left to find Starsky.

 

Starsky

He didn’t expect Hutch to recognize him when he entered the room, much less allow his touch, but he approached the bed anyway and pulled the curtain aside.

The bed was empty.

“Hutch?” As he called out, the bathroom door opened and Hutch came out, tugging his sweatshirt down over his jeans.

“You’re here for the apology I owe you.” Hutch sat in the chair by the bed and opened a bag his father had sent. A cheap pair of deck shoes was in it and the change from the money he’d insisted on giving his dad. He slipped bare feet into the shoes and counted the change, then stood and put it into his pocket.

“Shut up, Hutch! I don’t want your apology. I want you to listen to me. Who am I?”

Hutch obliged him with an answer. “You’re Starsky.”

“And?” He waited expectantly.

“And George and Trina are dead. Time for me to go away.”

“And?” He was more insistent this time.

Hutch frowned with a slight shake of his head. “And what? I don’t understand.”

“I’m your partner.”

Hutch shifted his gaze and shook his head in denial. “Not anymore. I—”

“Say it, Hutch! I’m your partner.” Starsky reached out and put a hand on Hutch’s shoulder.

“No! You’re not.” He pulled away. “Accept my apology or not, it doesn’t matter. I’ve given it. I’m leaving and I won’t be back.” He opened the drawer of the bed table and pulled out his wallet, the room key and the envelope with the rest of the money he’d hidden under the nightstand drawer in his motel room. He carefully counted what was left in the envelope. Two hundred and ninety four dollars went into his wallet.

“Hutch—”

Hutch shrugged off his concern. “My father returned the clothes and money you gave him from the motel. Do you have my car keys?”

Starsky pulled them from his jacket pocket and handed them to Hutch. “It’s still at the motel. I can take you to it.”

“No, thanks.” Hutch took the bag with his clothes from the closet and looked around the room to be sure he was leaving nothing behind. “I know you two are talking. Tell my dad he won’t have to worry about covering my treatment here. Dobey said I have medical until the end of the month. Anything not covered I’ll pay for myself, per our agreement.”

“End of the month?”

“I gave my notice. I won’t risk your safety playing partner to a fag.”

“A what?”

“I told you. There’s a video tape of me doing drugs in a three-way with my wife and brother-in-law. And when word gets around about me selling myself to the rich and famous at parties, I intend to be long gone. You need to be able to count on backup and you won’t get it with me at your side.”

“There wasn’t any tape found, so there is no proof. There isn’t a single person at George’s parties who’s going to admit to being there. Not with stories of rampant sex and drugs. They’ll lawyer up and make sure their alibis are rock solid. They won’t risk their reputations or their money. The worst that can happen is any gossip about George and Trina’s relationship.”

Starsky paused, studying how Hutch was taking this. “Your dad had your lawyer file an annulment to explain why you and Trina weren’t living together. That you were drunk when you eloped and married under duress. You didn’t know about Trina and George.”

“When did he do that?”

“That’s a conversation for you and your dad, Booker.” Starsky deliberately used Hutch’s childhood nickname. “He didn’t give me details. He’ll be back in the morning. You can ask him then.”

“I won’t be here in the morning.” Hutch headed for the door with his bag. “Goodbye, Starsk.”

“Hutch!” Starsky watched the door close, but didn’t go after him. He picked up the phone and dialed.

 

Hutch

He took a cab to the motel and dumped his bag in the room. He was paid till the end of the month. After that, he wasn’t sure; he’d need money to stay here and prostitution wasn’t an option. But he had an errand to run and it was best to get it done now. He pulled his keys out and headed for his car.

The house in the hills was vacant, with only a security guard keeping watch. The guard recognized Hutch, but Hutch ignored him and let himself in. It smelled of smoke.

He’d never been through the house when there wasn’t a party. The party room was clear except for empty tables along one wall and the dais in the center of the room. The soundproofed room in the basement had ceiling hooks, a metal table and a locker of sex toys and tools in it. Some of them had been used on him. The room itself had been hosed down recently. There were still water rings around the drains in the floor.

It had needed it. The room had been a blood-splashed mess after the last party. He shrugged off memories of pain and the sex with George afterward and headed for the master suite.

The fire damage was mostly confined there. What was left of the massive bedframe still littered the room; the mattress and bedding were gone. Soot and burn marks covered the walls and furniture in the rest of the room. He wandered around. The dresser at the end of the bed still had a TV and VCR on it, covered with debris. The VCR was open, as though a tape had been removed. There were a few commercial porno films in the top dresser drawer, but no unmarked VCR tapes.

“Looking for something, Booker, or just curious?”

Hutch wasn’t surprised at the voice from the doorway and didn’t bother to turn. “You’ve had me followed since I left the clinic. I guess you’ll have something to say about my being back at that motel, but I won’t stay here. What happened to the video?”

“No tape was found. Only this. It was in the debris when they removed the bedding.” His father held out a scorched piece of plastic, what was left of a burned-up video cassette. “It’s gone, Booker.”

“And you know this because?” He looked at his father, but didn’t reach for the shard he held.

“I don’t. But—.”

“Then I can’t risk it.”

“Son….”

He checked the drawers in the other dresser. The top drawer held some of Trina’s sexier lingerie and jars of the expensive oils they used at parties. The rest were empty, as though anything valuable was already removed. He touched nothing, moved on to the closets. Those, too, were empty.

“Do you want Rob to withdraw the annulment request?” Rob Caseman was the lawyer his father had hired to deal with any legal issues Hutch was facing.

“Why?”

“There’s no will. If the marriage stands, you’ll inherit Trina’s estate. Maybe George’s, too.”

A sour taste filled Hutch’s mouth. “I don’t want this place. I don’t want their money.”

“You earned a lot of it, son. They tended to live beyond their means. That’s why the blackmail.”

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. His father had widespread contacts and their research was thorough. “I don’t care. I don’t want it. If anything of value comes to me, have Rob donate it to the clinic anonymously.”

“How will he get hold of you?”

“At the motel. I’m paid up till month end. After that, I’m gone.” Hutch was done. He turned and left the bedroom and headed downstairs. He locked the door behind his father and gave his key to the security guard. “I won’t be back.” The guard nodded. “How do we reach you?”

“You don’t. Any questions, call my lawyer.” Hutch fished a card out of his wallet and handed it to the guard, then turned to his father, but didn’t extend his hand. “Goodbye, Sir. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Stay in touch, Booker. It’ll be all right.”

He shook his head. “You know I can’t, because it won’t. I’m sorry for the mess.”

******

He didn’t bother with food. He went back to the motel, removed his clothes and slid into bed. He missed the rats. It was almost too quiet, but he was dozing when a soft knock at the door roused him.

He ignored it.

Another tap, louder this time, and his name was called out. “Hutch?”

It was Starsky. He sighed, got up and put his jeans on. He opened the door, but didn’t remove the chain. “I don’t want company, Starsk. Go away.”

“We need to talk, Hutch. I brought coffee.” Starsky waved a fast-food carrier with two large cups at him.

“I don’t want any and I have nothing to say.” Hutch started to close the door, but Starsky stuck his foot in the crack.

“Well, I do. Open up.” Starsky looked at him pleadingly. “Please, Hutch. Let me in.”

Hutch looked at him a long time, wishing things were different. Starsky seemed to know and waited patiently, saying nothing more. Eventually, Hutch nodded. Starsky removed his foot and Hutch unhooked the chain to let him in.

“You don’t want coffee then?” Starsky put the cups on the counter when he shook his head no. “You really gave your notice to Dobey?”

“Yeah. I’m out of here the end of the month.”

“Why?”

“I promised my dad I’d disappear. If I stay, I’m an embarrassment. To him, to you, to the force.”

“And he’s okay with that?”

He crossed his arms over his bare chest and shrugged.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in trouble? Why did you deal with this yourself?” There was quiet concern in Starsky’s voice. No judgment.

He flushed hot. “Shame. The tape, the parties…. I was in too deep with no way to make things better. There still isn’t.”

“Then why did you let me in?”

“To ask you to take me. Pretend to make me yours just once before I go.” The voice was soft, tentative. “I won’t tell anyone. You can even turn the light off so you can pretend I’m someone else.”

“In other words, cover the stink of the others with my own.” Starsky shook his head. “We’ve never even kissed and you want me to fuck you, just like that.”

“Not fuck….”

“Then what?” Starsky faced him. “I want you more than you know, but I won’t pretend. When I take you, it will mean something real to both of us. But if all you want is a checkmark for your memory book, then you fuck me.”

Hutch said nothing, didn’t move.

Starsky pulled off his shirt. “C’mon, let’s get to it. How do you want me? Hands and knees on the floor? The bed? Maybe I should ride your cock….” He started to unbutton his jeans. “Do we need some kind of lube or do you just wanna use spit?” He scoffed softly. “Maybe we should wait till we can set up a camera and film the whole thing so you can re-live it at your convenience. You seem to respond to video.”

“Get out of here, Starsky.” He should have been furious, but he was on the verge of tears.

Starsky grabbed and kissed him. “Does that make fucking me more palatable?”

“Don’t touch me, Starsk.” But he couldn’t pull away. Didn’t want to, now that he was in Starsky’s arms.

“Why? Because it reminds you that you wanted me? It can’t be as much as I want you.” Starsky didn’t let go. Instead, he nestled into Hutch’s neck and held on gently. “You said on that tape, you begged George to fuck you. How did you feel when he did? When he came in you? When you thought it was me? Tell me.” He kissed Hutch’s neck and whispered, “How did you feel?”

“Complete,” Hutch whispered back. “I’d wanted you for so long and I told myself you felt so good… When I found it wasn’t you, I wanted to die.” He wanted to hold Starsky, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Next thing I know, I’m sucking strangers and taking their cocks up my ass and still pretending they were you.” He forced himself to pull away. “I’m sorry, Starsk. The dream is gone now.”

“Hutch?”

“We can’t fix this, Starsk.” Starsky’s hands on his still-healing body brought tears to his eyes. “We can’t.”

Starsky caught him again, kissed him. “No, babe. You did what you had to do to survive an unholy situation. It doesn’t change what we had, what we could have.” Starsky tugged him over to the bed. “Come lay down with me, let me hold you. I need that right now and so do you.”

He looked at the bed, reluctant to do it. “I’m not wearing briefs.”

“Neither am I. I’ve seen you naked. Leave your jeans on if the nudity bothers you. I want emotional intimacy, not sex. I need us to be close.”

He took off his jeans and slid under the covers. Starsky shed his clothes and joined him, gathering Hutch in his arms. “Kiss me, Hutch,” he whispered. “I dream of kissing you.”

Hutch offered his mouth and Starsky took it. The kisses were heady and sweet and what they needed. He snuggled closer and allowed himself to drift, feeling safe in Starsky’s arms.

But it didn’t last. He pulled away. “We shouldn’t have done this. You need to go.” He rolled out of bed and reached for his jeans.

Hands took his jeans away and pulled him back to the bed, pushed him gently down. “Lay back, Hutch.”

He did, and Starsky kissed his cock. “No! NO!” He tried to push Starsky away.

Starsky’s hands caught his and his mouth swallowed Hutch’s cock, sucking all the resistance out of him as Hutch’s cock filled. It didn’t take long. “God! Ohmygod, Starsk!” he whispered in panic. “Stop! Please! I’m gonna come….”

Starsky sucked him deep and Hutch spilled down his throat, sobbing Starsky’s name. When he was done, Starsky laid his head in Hutch’s lap. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to force this.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Hutch dared to stroke the curls under his hands.

“You weren’t ready for this. I wanted us to take our time, make this pleasant for you when it happened, not push you into it, rush it.” He looked up at Hutch. “We’ll do better next time.” He got up and urged Hutch onto the bed, then lay down beside him and pulled the covers over them both. “Do you want to leave the light on?”

Hutch touched his lover’s face and mouth, as though seeing them for the first time. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“Okay.” Starsky closed his eyes and let Hutch touch.

 

Starsky

The light was still on when he woke. Hutch was asleep, curled on his side, facing the wall. The still-healing bruises covering his body were a garish purple-green-yellow; seeing them up close hurt Starsky’s heart. He wanted to touch, but didn’t dare. He lay quietly, thinking.

Sometime later, a faint moan warned him Hutch was waking up. “You hungry, babe?” he murmured. “I think we slept all night.”

Another moan and a sigh. “Yeah. There’s a diner down the street if you’re interested. They serve a decent omelet and their prices are reasonable.”

“Sounds good. Let’s go. I’ll buy.”

******

The omelets were decent. So was the service. “Want a refill on your orange juice?” Starsky asked. When Hutch nodded, he waved the waitress over and ordered two more. She brought them and smiled at Hutch’s familiar face.

“Let’s talk about work, Hutch.”

“Nothing to talk about. I gave Dobey my notice. Friday’s my last day. I figured we can tough it out one more week. We’ve managed the past five months, when I wasn’t out recovering.” Hutch kept his voice low.

He matched it. “Then I’ll give my notice, too. When you go, we’ll go together. I’ve already tried living without you and I can’t do it, Hutch. I won’t. ‘Me’n’Thee,’ remember?”

Hutch shook his head.

“Give it the week, Hutch. If we take flack at work, we won’t wait till Friday. We’ll just go. But if it’s good, we talk to Dobey and stay on. Please?”

He watched Hutch shrug. “C’mon. I’ll take you back to your room.”

He paid for breakfast and drove back to the motel. “Want me to stay?”

Hutch didn’t look at him, shook his head no. “I need some alone time to think things through. I’ll give you an answer tomorrow.”

Starsky took a chance and patted Hutch’s knee before Hutch got out. “I’ll see you at the station. Call me if you need me.”

******

Hutch beat him to work the next morning. They walked into roll call together and Starsky held his breath.

“Hey! Look who’s back! How ya feeling, Hutchinson?” Several of the detectives at the coffee pot raised their cups in greeting and smiled. One of them offered Hutch the cup he was filling. “Sorry to hear about your wife, Hutch.”

Hutch turned down the coffee, but nodded at the sentiment. He found a seat apart from the group and sat without a word. Starsky sat next to him and the others left them alone.

It was a quiet day and check in was hassle-free. Just the regular jokes and complaints about everyone’s workday. They completed their paperwork and left the station together. In the parking lot, Starsky asked, “So what do you think, Hutch? Work another day and see how it goes?”

Hutch shrugged, but didn’t say no.

“Want to have dinner together? We don’t have to talk.” He got no response and took the hint. “Okay, then I’ll say goodnight. See ya in the morning.” He watched Hutch get into his car and head back to the motel.

******

Tuesday and Wednesday were more of the same, with the usual joshing and half-assed complaints, but on Thursday, one of the younger detectives questioned Hutch about his marriage. “Hutchinson, I heard you married some gold digger you met on a trip to Vegas and she’s dead now?”

Starsky held his breath.

“You heard wrong, Sullivan. We were drunk and got a little ahead of ourselves. She was a rich widow and her brother thought I was the gold digger. He knew I couldn’t support her fancy lifestyle on a cop’s salary and he threw me out.”

“Does that mean—?”

“We were getting it annulled.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry for your loss anyway.” Sullivan patted Hutch’s arm and walked away.

Starsky followed Hutch out to the Torino. “You okay?”

Hutch looked at him. “Yeah. Maybe you and my dad are right. Nobody seems to care about what happened. There’s no gossip either way right now, but the investigation isn’t finished.”

“Stay with me, Hutch.”

“I almost wish I could, but I won’t do that to you. There’s so much you don’t know. Things I did. Things that were done to me….”

“Listen to me, babe. Tell me, don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter. I—”

“It does matter, Starsk. Don’t you understand? It matters to me.” Hutch burned with shame.

“Oh, Hutch. I only care about what happens between us. What we do with each other. I want us to make a life together.”

“Starsky….” Hutch stared at him a long time, weighing his options.

He wanted Hutch so badly. “Stay with me. Please.”

Hutch stopped next to his car, his mind made up. “I can’t, Starsk. It’s best I go now. Thanks for being my partner.” He got into his car and turned the key. It didn’t start. He sighed, got out and walked toward the Torino. “Drop me back at the motel? Or if you’d rather, I’ll say goodbye here and call a cab.”

Starsky shrugged in defeat. “Get in. I’ll take you over there.”

They drove to the motel in silence.

Outside the room, as Hutch opened the car door, Starsky asked in a quiet voice, “Do you still want me to fuck you goodbye?”

Hutch looked at him, expecting sarcasm that didn’t come. “I’ll pass. Tell Dobey I’ll get my car out of the lot as soon as I can arrange for a tow truck. Thanks for the ride.” He got out of the Torino.

“Hutch….” Starsky paused, reluctant to continue. “If you need money, let me help. Don’t…don’t sell yourself.”

The shock on Hutch’s face told him he’d made a horrible mistake. “Wait, I—”

“Goodbye, Starsky.” Hutch walked away without another word.

He watched Hutch unlock the door to his room, then drove home in tears.

******

Hutch’s car was gone when he showed up for work the next day. Hutch didn’t. Dobey said he’d called off, that Hutch was done.

Starsky refused another partner and hit the streets alone.

******

At Dobey’s insistence, they’d assigned him a partner, then another and another and another. Older, younger, male, female, it didn’t matter. They sat next to him in the Torino and he ignored them all. None of them lasted more than a week. A month later, he was back working alone.

They whispered about him now, on the streets, in the locker room. Solid and hard-working, but no nonsense. Completely by-the-book now. He didn’t joke around, didn’t socialize at all.

And he didn’t date.

******

It happened in the parking lot of the diner where he’d been stopping for lunch. A group of bikers got into an argument over splitting the check. Two of them pulled guns and started firing as Starsky was walking toward the door. He pulled his gun as they ran out and when they fired at him, he shot them both.

He took two bullets, but survived the trip to the hospital. The bikers didn’t. One was dead in the parking lot, the other was DOA.

******

“How is he, doc? Any permanent damage?”

He could hear concern in Dobey’s voice, but wasn’t awake enough to care. Starsky didn’t move, because moving hurt like hell.

“He was lucky. One of the bullets grazed his temple. We removed the other from his right shoulder, just under the scapula. He’s gonna hurt like hell, but we can help with the pain. There should be no permanent damage.” The doctor sounded tired, but optimistic. “I’ll check on him in the morning. Anyone we need to notify?”

There was only one person he cared about, but that person was gone. He said nothing.

“I’ll leave my beeper number with the nurses’ station. His mother is on the east coast. I’ll keep her updated.”

The conversation continued as a nurse came in to check his vitals, but Starsky stopped listening and passed out.

******

It was quiet when he came to and the lights were dim. He was in agony, but he bit his tongue to keep from groaning as he hit the button to ease the pain. It didn’t help.

“It’s the other button.”

The soft voice came from the chair next to the bed. He turned toward it and saw Hutch sitting there in the low light. “How long?”

“Since you got out of surgery. I heard about the shooting on the news and came to the hospital. I was here when the doctor updated Dobey. He talked them into letting me stay.” Hutch shifted in the chair and yawned. “Sorry. It’s been maybe forty eight hours.”

“Forty eight—?!” Starsky punched the other button he felt near his hand and sighed as the pain eased. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I know.”

“Where have you been, Hutch?”

“Around. Doing odd jobs to pay the rent and keep my car on the road.” Hutch shrugged and answered Starsky’s unasked question. “I haven’t sold myself.”

“I’m sorry I said that, Hutch. I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Forget it, Starsky. It came up. I don’t know how, but he found me and offered a lot of money, but I’ll kill myself before I let him near me again. I said no.”

“Who asked?” He was shocked. With George dead, he thought it was over, that Hutch was free of the notoriety.

Hutch hesitated. The memory was intensely shameful, one he’d never forget. “One of George’s auction winners. He paid to have me suck him off while….” Hutch swallowed hard. “…while he watched me get fucked. It really turned him on and he wanted to do it again. I said no.”

He looked hard at Hutch, trying to read what Hutch wasn’t saying. It hurt to realize how much was unsaid between them. He pushed the button again, but the meds didn’t help his emotional pain. “How’s your dad?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t spoken since I apologized and promised to disappear. I’ve been trying to keep a low profile until I earn enough to do it and I’m almost there. I’ll be leaving town soon.”

“And go where?”

Hutch shook his head. “Somewhere I can lose myself and not embarrass either of you.”

They stared at each other for a long time, saying nothing. Then, softly…. “Why are you here, Hutch?”

“What do you mean? You were shot. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Hutch” He looked at Hutch, wanting the truth. “Why are you here?”

Hutch closed his eyes and whispered, “I miss you.”

He let go of the pain meds button and held out his hand. “I miss you, too.” Hutch took it and held on tight.

 

Dobey

It wasn’t easy for either of them. They spoke at length in Starsky’s hospital room about the partnership they’d shared at work and whether they could recover it. More important was the one they’d hoped to acquire in life and whether it was possible now with everything that had happened.

Dobey listened gravely when he walked in on a poignant conversation that wasn’t going anywhere. “The two of you were my best team once. I was jealous of your closeness. A lot of us were. We didn’t understand, but it worked for you. It made you better cops, better men.” Dobey looked at a closed off Hutch. “I don’t know what happened over that marriage of yours. I suspect you made some stupid decisions that have come close to destroying you. Am I right?”

Hutch looked at the captain, but said nothing. The tears in his eyes gave Dobey his answer.

“And this one….” Dobey pointed to Starsky, “…has a death wish. He won’t work with a partner, won’t wait for backup. He’s courting the bullet that will take him out permanently.”

There was suddenly fear in Hutch’s eyes. It was obviously an option that had never occurred to him.

“Listen to me, both of you. No way in hell should I do this, but you’ll be dead or crazy if I don’t. Both of you need therapy. Serious counseling. Couples’ massages. Maybe all of the above. I don’t care. Whatever it takes to get your heads back in the game. Whether you make a life together or not, make peace between you. Do that, and if you want to be partners back on the streets, I’ll consider it. But no more of this lone wolf nonsense.”

Dobey huffed and looked them each in the eye. “Let me know what you decide, but this is a limited-time offer. I’ll be in touch.”

He left behind two pensive men.

 

Hutch

It was hardest on him. Partnership was an ugly word to him now, but for Starsky alone, he considered it. Starsky wanted to remain a cop, with Hutch at his side. He wasn’t sure that was his path anymore, but he agreed to the therapy for Starsky’s sake.

It surprised him that it helped to talk. He refused to divulge specific details of the horrors he’d undergone, but as the sessions continued, he revealed the shame, the anger and the misplaced desire his decisions had caused him. The needs and wants hidden deep in his heart began to surface. And hearing himself admit them out loud gave him the courage to want to talk to Starsky.

When he was finally ready, the therapist brought them together for a serious discussion to see if a lasting partnership on any level was possible. Both were cautiously optimistic it was.

They started with their friendship. Easy talk on how their lives were going, changes made, simple confidences. Starsky wanted him to give up the dilapidated motel room and move in with him, or at least find an apartment near his own, but Hutch felt safe where he was living, where he had some measure of control. It didn’t surprise them that neither of them dated.

The casual touching slowly resumed. Nothing frequent, but Hutch grew comfortable with it again. It awakened buried desires, and he got brave enough over pizza at Starsky’s place to ask Starsky if the intimate touches they’d exchanged after George’s death meant anything to him.

Starsky kissed him, then kissed him again. “Never doubt it, babe,” he whispered. “You mean everything to me.”

He touched his lip in pleased confusion, but didn’t back away. “Would you consider doing it again?”

“Anytime, anyplace, Hutch. Just tell me what you want.”

I want you, buried deep in my body, holding me tight while you make me yours… He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “I’d better go, Starsk. Thanks for the pizza. Next time’s on me.”

He left without another word, went back to the motel and pleasured himself while fantasizing about Starsky’s touch.

******

After long talks with therapists and Starsky and in-depth third degrees by Dobey and a review board, he resumed being a cop again and returned as Starsky’s partner. The whispering grew and continued for a time, then slowly died away as things got back to what passed for normal now.

But his desire for Starsky became a need that scared him with its intensity. He went home after work, night after night, desperate for Starsky’s touch, but unable to tell him.

He was sitting in his room alone one night, not watching anything, but flipping through the TV Guide to keep his hands busy, when there was a soft tap at the door. He sighed and went to answer it, knowing who was there.

Starsky.

“I didn’t bring pizza. No beer, no booze. I want us sober tonight, Hutch. Can I come in?”

He nodded and stepped aside, allowing Starsky into the room.

Starsky made no excuses for showing up unannounced. “You know why I’m here. We’ve waited long enough.”

He knew. He dropped the guide and started to unbutton his shirt.

“No. Let me.” Starsky looked him in the eye, took hold of his shirt, ripped it open and pulled it off. As the buttons went flying, he stroked bare skin, then pressed his face against Hutch’s throat.

Hutch gasped, arousal burning through him.

“You’ve confessed you’ve done it, but I’ve never heard it. Beg me, Hutch. Beg me to take you.”

He closed his eyes, lost in need. “Fuck me, Starsk. I’ll do anything you want. Anything. Just make me yours.”

“Finish stripping, then stand by the bed and watch.”

He did as he was told and watched as Starsky readied himself, removing his clothes and deliberately caressing his cock with the lubricant he’d pulled from a pocket in his jeans. Hutch moaned and started to ease the ache in his own cock.

“Stop! That’s mine to touch. Kneel on the bed, Hutch. I’m done waiting.”

He knelt, panting in anticipation and almost came when Starsky reached under and stroked him hard.

“Don’t you dare, Hutch! You come when I tell you. Only then….” Starsky spread his ass cheeks and mounted him, slowly pressing into Hutch.

“…yessss…” he whispered, lost in pleasure, pushing back on Starsky’s cock.

“That’s it, babe. Take me deep. Beg me again to make you mine…” He moved, ramming into Hutch over and over as Hutch obeyed and begged.

It was too much. One of them screamed—he didn’t know who—and both of them erupted in ecstasy together.

Hutch collapsed, his lover still in him, and sighed in contentment, whispering Starsky’s name.

******

Becoming lovers meant everything to him. The shame faded and his healing began in earnest. They socialized more and eventually, Hutch was able to reach out and initiate their intimacy without apology. He wasn’t ready to move in with Starsky, but in time, he gave up the haven he’d made of the shabby motel room and created a new one in a simple studio apartment not far from Starsky’s place.

They celebrated by Hutch penetrating Starsky for the first time, both of them enjoying the change of sensations. And though Hutch discovered he preferred his lover taking him, he had no problem mounting Starsky when he wanted to be fucked.

******

On their first anniversary, his parents came to visit and took them out to dinner. He knew Starsky had kept in casual touch with his dad and he was grateful Starsky did. It had eased the pain his decisions involving the abomination of his marriage had caused and Starsky’s role as buffer smoothed the way for a reconciliation between them.

There were secrets now—his dad’s, Starsky’s, his—to be forever unshared, but their love was unconditional, so he learned to be content with the life he had remade. Happiness would come eventually.

 

Brian Hutchinson

Five years.

Five long years, but it was finished now.

Brian leaned back in his chair and set the final report aside. He’d shred it later. For now, it was enough that it was done.

He turned his attention to the note in the birthday card that came today. It was from Booker, thanking him for being his dad. Brian glanced at the photo on a corner of his desk. His son was leaning against the Torino, wrapped in a loose hug by Dave sitting on its hood behind him and the faint smile on Booker’s face had given Brian hope that one day, his son would find peace. After so long, it seemed he finally had.

His own peace had been expensive, but worth every penny. A very discreet investigation had yielded the names on the guest lists of the parties George Keller and his sister had thrown. Names of the men who had paid to fuck and brutalize his son over and over.

He’d been careful not to kill any of them, although he’d wanted to kill them all; he knew most of the names, all selfish, arrogant brutes more interested in flaunting their money than doing any good with it. But he’d paid a lot to learn what they’d done and his anger festered in creative ways. All had some possession they’d cherished above all else and that was what he’d targeted.

He started with the party guest and his mastiff, overindulging the rage he harbored over the humiliations this one had done to his son. He’d had the dog gutted and castrated, then its balls force-fed to the screaming owner. His household staff found him choking on his own vomit and he never recovered from his breakdown.

Next was the wannabe-heavyweight contender, who’d paid fifty grand to use his son as a punching bag and had beaten him half to death. Brian personally bought the sledgehammer used to smash both hands, breaking bones and pulverizing the rings that had gouged his son’s flesh. Removing them meant cutting them up and extracting the metal bits in painful sessions. While multiple surgeries could save the hands’ appearance, they couldn’t save their functionality. Too vain to use prosthetics, he would need help feeding himself and wiping his ass for the rest of his life.

The womanizing linebacker lost control of his flashy, limited-edition automobile, losing a hand and his career in the pre-arranged crash that destroyed it, but his subsequent fatal overdose was his own doing. Others lost yachts or estates, even an extensive art collection accrued over time at great expense, all devastating losses, all irreplaceable.

It had taken time, money and careful planning, never hiring the same felon twice to do the job, but Brian was patient and got his revenge on all of them. He looked at the credenza behind him, at the photo of a younger Booker with trusting eyes, from a happier time forever gone now, taken when he was quick to smile. Brian mourned the loss of that innocence, but he was grateful his son had survived and recovered a version of the life he’d worked so hard to make for himself, with a partner he loved. One who loved him.

Brian turned back to the photo on his desk. He really should get an updated one, but when he looked at this one, he saw hope. He smiled, proud of both of his sons.