Seeing For The First Time

An alternative missing scene from Murder Ward.

Adult content. Non-consensual molestation (but not totally rejected). I have pushed the boundaries of Hutch’s character. If you have no wish to read about Hutch acting out of character, do not continue as contents may offend.

Hutch followed Matwick’s orders to the letter. He maintained an impassive expression as he secured the strait-jacket around Starsky’s torso, tied the gag behind his head and pushed him onto the bed so that he was lying on his back. Finally, he moved to the bottom of the bed and tightened the strap around Starsky’s crossed ankles.

He kept eye contact with his buddy as much as possible while he carried out his duties. The roiling in his gut threatening to reveal his disgust at the treatment being inflicted on Starsky.

He listened as Matwick and Miss Bycroft discussed the events that led to his partner being restrained. Switek had been missing from his shift and a Housekeeper had found him dead in the bathtub in Starsky’s room.

“Switek came in here last night to check on Skylar. It must have happened then,” Matwick stated.

Miss Bycroft looked over and said, “I never thought Skylar capable of anything like this”.

Matwick made a decision. “Well, I’ll have to have a private session with him tomorrow.”

His last words struck fear into Hutch. He looked over at Starsky and saw the same fear reflected back.

Although Hutch’s expression was still indifferent, Starsky could see the slight tightening of the facial muscles and the look of concern in his partner’s ocean blue eyes.

Hutch’s gut suddenly churned. It took all his strength to stop himself from shouting out that they were cops and that the so called medical staff were under arrest. This investigation had to come to an end.

“Hansen. Follow me,” commanded Dr Matwick. “Skylar isn’t going anywhere. I have other things for you to do.”

“Yes sir.” Hutch looked at Starsky. His eyes communicated their silent message. Sorry buddy, I’ll be back as soon as I can. He followed the doctor out of the room and closed the door.

Starsky was left alone with his thoughts and fears. Fear of what would happen to him tomorrow. Fear of what would happen to the others if they pulled out now. He knew what Hutch was thinking. That it was too dangerous to risk carrying on with the investigation now that he had been branded as a killer and Matwick had made the decision to use the drug on him. But to abort now would compromise any further chances of pursuing the matter and endanger the very lives they were trying to protect.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Unable to move because of the restraints, Starsky waited for Hutch to return. After what seemed like forever, the door opened and his partner’s face appeared. He had never been so happy to see Hutch’s smiling face.

Hutch’s heart leapt at the sight of Starsky. Unfamiliar stirrings started in his groin. Well, not unfamiliar, but they were feelings he had only ever experienced when he saw a woman he would like to get to know better. These feelings had never been instigated by his partner’s presence before.

He slowly crossed the room and looked at the restrained figure in front of him. What is happening to me? Why do I feel like this?

Starsky stared back. What’s wrong Hutch? The expression on his partner’s face started to worry him. He struggled against his bindings. Panic rose. Starsky tried to talk but, because of the gag, only managed unrecognizable sounds.

Hutch stood transfixed. The more Starsky struggled, the stronger Hutch’s groin twitched. He reached out his right hand and brushed the stray hair from Starsky’s damp forehead.

Mesmerized, he drank in the sight of Starsky writhing on the bed. Hutch watched Starsky’s attempts to free himself from the confines of the strait-jacket. He reached out and caressed the dark, handsome face and tickled the side of his taut, tanned neck.

“Starsk,” Hutch said in a deep-throated voice.

Starsky was shocked. He had never heard Hutch use that husky tone before. It sounded like something in the sleazy matinees he sometimes went to.

Hutch ran his hand down Starsky’s body to his groin.

There wasn’t much Starsky could do except watch in disbelief as his best friend caressed him the way he usually caressed a woman. He tried to wriggle out of reach but the bed was narrow and the strap around his ankles allowed little purchase on the sheets. No matter how he tried to protest, Hutch seemed oblivious to his confusion. To his reluctance to be part of this, whatever this was.

Starsky tensed as Hutch brushed one hand against his groin. Hutch pressed his fingers into the thickness of the crotch belt holding the strait-jacket in place.

Hutch stop, please stop. He tried to communicate his fear silently to Hutch, unable to say any recognizable words.

Hutch groaned. His whole being tingled with the pleasure of exploring Starsky’s body. He was no longer connected mentally with his partner, his carnal desires opening up a gap between them as wide as the Grand Canyon.

Starsky closed his eyes and prayed that when he opened them again he would find that this was a dream and he was alone in his room.

Hutch moved his hand down to Starsky’s thighs and caressed the inside of each leg.

Starsky could feel the gentle touch through his thin trousers. To his horror, his body started to respond. His groin twitched as Hutch’s light touch moved up and down his inner thighs. Then Hutch’s fingertips snaked under the material of the crotch belt and kneaded Starsky’s genitals. Hutch’s strong, experienced movements understood each pressure point, understood exactly how and where to touch to enhance the pleasure that shot arrows of delight through Starsky’s body. His previous struggles stopped, and he surrendered to Hutch’s ministrations. His own guttural growling matched his partner’s as they continued the journey together.

Starsky couldn’t believe that he’d resisted this erotic massage and he felt connected to Hutch on a whole new level – mutual desire.

Hutch caressed Starsky’s cock, while he worked on his own with his left hand.

The confines of the crotch belt made Starsky’s erection uncomfortably cramped but he no longer cared. He focused on the pleasure that Hutch was forcing on him. He should be disgusted, he should hate his friend for doing this to him. But he didn’t. He wanted this. He just hadn’t known it before.

Their worlds simultaneously exploded. In orgasm, as in friendship, they were one.

The loving bond between the two friends had just crossed that fine line between friendship and sexual relationship.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hutch collapsed to the floor and his mind connected back with reality. He looked up at the bed and noted his partner’s closed eyes. The high of his orgasm receded quickly, and it was replaced with a barrage of mixed emotions. He was horrified that he’d had these terrible thoughts about his partner and had acted on them. He turned to quietly crawl toward the door.

He was too embarrassed and scared to face Starsky after what he had just done. He had sexually abused his best friend. What the hell had he been thinking? He’d become the lowest form of sexual predator. He felt as low as the scum on the streets he went after every day. It was a feeling he didn’t like, didn’t want. And where in the hell had this arousal come from? He’d never had homosexual tendencies for Starsky before.

He was halted by a muffled word.

“Uth.”

Slowly, Hutch turned and stared straight into dark indigo eyes. He quickly averted his own eyes and looked at the floor. He was sure the anguish that he felt was evident on his face.

“I’m sorry, Starsk.” The words came out in a barely audible whisper. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” He stood up and pulled the gag down to Starsky’s neck, still not looking him in the eye.

“Hutch, look at me.”

He obeyed the command, feeling like a naughty child about to be punished by his father. This time, he met Starsky’s loving gaze. “I’m glad you did.”

Hutch felt confused. Did he hear that right? Did Starsky really mean it? “What?”

“I’m glad you did it, Blintz. I think we need to talk. But not now, not here. We have a job to do.”

Hutch removed the gag properly and walked to the bottom of the bed. He studied his partner with a steady gaze, his mind back on the case. “Look, I’m getting off duty in about half an hour. I’m going to call Dobey, and I’m going to pull the plug on this whole case.”

No way was Matwick getting his hands on Starsky now.

“No, not yet,” Starsky stated firmly.

Hutch raised his right finger and waved it at his partner. “Starsky, Matwick is taking you in for therapy tomorrow.”

“What time tomorrow?”

“Midnight.”

“Well, we have until then before we call Dobey.”

Hutch looked at Starsky and realized that there was no point arguing with him.

END