So Right

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Starsky decides he and Hutch need some alone time.

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I look at the speedometer and slow down a little. These country roads are narrow in places with wide ditches that I don’t want to get stuck in. I caste a glance at my blond partner sprawled out dead to the world in the seat next to me, his long body folded up in what had to be an uncomfortable position. We should’ve rented a bigger car.

What’s been bothering him, I keep wondering. I could’ve sworn we were closer than any two people could be, especially since the hit last spring. He practically lived with me the first few months after I got out of the hospital, and we’ve seen each other plenty since then. So what had Susie been talking about that night she left town?

As the miles speed past, one part of my brain concentrates on the road, but another part goes back to the conversation I had with my childhood friend on her last visit to Bay City a couple of weeks ago.

<<<<<<OOOO>>>>>>

“Are you sure you wanna leave so soon? I mean, you and Hutch have barely spent any time together. I’ve monopolized all of it since you got here.”

“We spent last night together.” Susie takes a tortilla chip and swipes it through the nacho cheese we share. There are big pieces of jalapenos in it—she likes hot stuff just like me, same as she likes dancing, comic books and football. Fact is, the two of us have a lot in common, and if she didn’t feel so much like my goddamned sister, we would’ve gotten together ages ago. Oh, we hit the sheets a few times when we were just out of high school, and it was good…but we’re better as friends. As it happens, she ended up marrying my cousin Tony, who was killed in the line of duty five years ago. Sparks flew when she met Hutch a year later, and they’ve never failed to hook up when she comes into town.

Hutch spent the better part of this past year nursing me back to health, barely taking any time for himself. I want to see him happy. If Susie’s not the one, I don’t know who is. They’re great together–always laughing, never fighting. And he’s told me more than once the sex is terrific. So why’s she in such a hurry to get back to New York?

“It’s not that I’m in a hurry, David, it’s just that it’s time. We’ve visited, and you have stuff to do, too.”

“But you and Hutch–“

“Would you please stop trying to push me and your partner together? If we were going to get married or something, we would’ve done it already. We’ve had four years of this. In fact, I’m pretty sure this was the last time.”

I drop my nacho in the dip and fish it back out. “What? Did you argue?”

“No, no. We had a terrific evening.” Susie shrugs and takes a sip of beer, pushing her long, wavy brown hair out of her eyes—eyes that Hutch once said reminded him of two pools of dark chocolate. “We had a long talk; it’s just time for us both to let go.” She pierces me with a look. “David, have you taken the time to really talk to Hutch lately?”

“Sure, we’ve talked,” I say. “Heck, we’re always together–we talk all the time.”

“That doesn’t mean you’ve really said anything. There are things he needs to talk to you about, David, and you need to really listen.”

That hurts and I can’t help bristling. I mean, I know people who go to bed together talk intimately sometimes, especially two people who have known one another as long as Susie and Hutch have, but I like to think that there isn’t anything about the guy that I don’t know.

“Of course, I’ll listen!”

Susie grins. “Come on, don’t get all mad. Hutch would’ve talked to you, if he hadn’t been so afraid of upsetting you while you’ve been recovering. If you want my advice–and I’m sure you do,” she grins again, “you should go somewhere and spend some time alone. Away from everything. He needs you, David.”

My stomach clenches. Was something wrong with Hutch? Was he sick and I’ve been too wrapped up in myself to notice? Panic must show on my face, because Susie hurries to reassure me that Hutch just needs to talk to me. Then she firmly changes the subject.

A couple of hours later when I drop her off at the airport, I can’t help asking, “Are you sure you and Hutch aren’t meant to be?”

“I’m positive,” she shoulders her bag. “I could’ve fallen for him hard, Dave, but I’ve known for a while now that I’m not the one who holds his heart.” She leans over and kisses me quickly on the mouth. “Come visit me soon.” She slides out of the car, and with a wave, she disappears inside the crowded airport.

I sit for a long time just staring out the windshield until a taxi behind me honks, and I pull out of the drop-off lane.

<<<<<<OOOO>>>>>>

So here we are, on our way to some house owned by somebody Hutch’s parents know, to try to relax and enjoy ourselves. I told Hutch that I need this time to get away. My convalescence has come to an end, and I’m not exactly sure if I want to go for reinstatement, although I’ve been too chicken to tell Hutch that part. Truth be told, I don’t think Hutch knows if he still wants to be a cop. I’ve thought more than once that that could be what Hutch wants to talk about. I wish I could be sure, because I’m dreading telling him my thoughts on the subject. I never thought I’d be saying I might not want to be a cop anymore, but hell…I’m closing in on forty. I almost died from those bullets. Maybe I want to do something a little less dangerous with the rest of my life.

This fancy-shmancy house we are headed to is a few hours away from Bay City, nestled somewhere in the woods. Hutch is gonna love that, but I’m not so sure about it. Seems anytime we get away somewhere, it’s always to the woods. Why can’t we just go to the beach? Hutch says it’s because the beach is home, and when we want to get away, we want to get away from home. I guess that makes sense. Still, there’s gotta be more choices out there than the woods and the beach.

I glance at Hutch again, just wanting to look at him. One big surprise Susie left for me was getting Hutch to shave off the old mustache. I about fell over when Hutch showed up at my place without it. Coupled with a haircut, it was like we’d gone back in time a couple of years. He’d asked me if I liked it, and I’d said, hell yeah, I liked it, and that I wished there was some way for me to peel off a few years that easy. He’d blushed and told me I looked great. That had made me feel real good. Better maybe than an offhanded comment from my best friend should’ve, but I’ve been alone a while. Gotta give myself a break.

I hate to wake Hutch up, but I have to, because I’m not real certain about the directions once we exit off the highway. Hutch is groggy and a little grumpy, but he sits up, stretches those long limbs, and pulls the piece of paper out of the glove compartment.

“It says to turn right off the exit, go ten miles, and look for a white church with a tall steeple. Then make a right on Donovan Road.” Hutch leans over and looks at the odometer, evidently planning on clocking the ten miles. I figure I’ll just wait about ten minutes and start looking for a white church.

“I read where they’re gonna have something in cars someday that’ll tell you when and where to turn,” I tell him.

“Just another excuse for us to stop using our brains,” Hutch says.

He recently decided that TV was warping our brains and got rid of his. When I asked him what he did with it, he said he donated it to an orphanage. When I asked, “What about the orphans’ brains? You not worried about them?” He didn’t have an answer.

Whoever gave Hutch the directions did a pretty good job, because ten minutes/miles down the road, there is the church and we make our turn. Hutch looks at the directions again and says to go three more miles and make a left by a red barn. Sure enough, three minutes/miles later, there’s that barn, and I make the turn. The house is up a winding wooded drive that’s at least two miles long, and pretty soon we’re parked in front of it. I’m glad, because I’m about to burst, I gotta piss so bad. We’re way out in the country, and I didn’t wanna stop to take a leak on the side of the road because I knew it would wake up Hutch when I pulled the car over. He really needs his sleep; he looks tired all the time these days.

The house is fucking huge. I can’t believe it, and neither can Hutch. We sit staring at it for a minute before my bladder forces me out of the rental car.

“Your parents’ friends sure know how to live,” I comment when we start up the stone walkway to the front door.

“You ain’t kidding,” Hutch agrees. I always get a kick when Hutch says ‘ain’t’ ’cause I know he’s picked it up from me. He’s usually too classy to say shit like that, but when he does, in some warped way, it makes me feel even closer to him.

The front porch is this giant archway with topiary trees in each corner, and the door itself is huge and made up largely of beveled glass. I’m thinking I wouldn’t want someone to be able to see inside my house like this, even if it is sort of blurry, and how the hell do you hide from unwanted solicitors? I say as much, and Hutch asks didn’t I see the ‘no soliciting’ sign back at the start of the driveway? I’m not convinced that would stop a solicitor, but I drop it.

I’m pretty much dancing, I have to pee so bad. Hutch gets the key out of the envelope and unlocks the huge door and we’re inside a huge gray and white foyer with marble floors. Marble floors! Out in the woods! Rich people sure are weird. “Eccentric,” Hutch calls them as I race by, searching for the nearest bathroom.

When I come out, feeling a million times better, I tell Hutch about the thing in the toilet that squirts your ass.

“That’s a bidet,” he tells me. “It gets you clean.”

I shake my head, wondering what they’ll come up with next. We walk around touring the place. I don’t see how me and Hutch are going to have one-on-one time together when we could conceivably both stay here and never cross paths once. Maybe we should’ve just rented a little cabin in the woods, or gone back to Dobey’s place, Satanists and rattlesnakes be damned.

But it’s hard not to appreciate the finer things in life as we walk from room to room and see the huge television screen and the stereo with the terrific speaker system. And there’s a giant Jacuzzi off the master bedroom and a built-in bowling alley downstairs. “What the hell does this friend of your parents do for a living?” I ask.

“Hell if I know,” Hutch says, finding a bedroom that suits him and stashing his stuff in it. I peer in each, but there’s not much difference in them except for the huge master bedroom, but somehow I don’t feel right sleeping in there, so I put my bags in the one beside Hutch’s and follow him down the wide staircase.

“You have one of them ‘bidets’ when you were growing up?” I ask Hutch when we get downstairs.

“Nope.”

I’m kind of glad, because the thought gives me an awful mental picture of Mr. and Mrs. Hutchinson getting their asses squirted. I tell Hutch this, and he laughs so hard, I think he’s gonna shit his pants and need the bidet himself.

He slaps my back, kind of hugging me to him, and I get that warm feeling I always get when we’re close this way.

We decide to go out for a grocery run, and then we start cooking dinner. After a month living together when I was just out of the hospital, we have domesticity down pat.

“What’re you talking about?” Hutch asks when I mention it. “We’ve always worked like a well-oiled machine no matter what we were doing.” He’s got a point there.

Hutch is a pretty good cook, and I actually like to clean. He thinks that’s nuts, but he doesn’t complain ’cause he sure as hell doesn’t want to do it.

When our bellies are full of chicken pot pie, and we’re lounging around in one of the more comfortable-looking rooms, staring out of the huge window that looks out over miles of wooded hills, I decide this is as good a time as any to bring up some of what’s on my mind. Taking a sip of my wine, I look at Hutch. “So, how did Susie get you to shave off the mustache, anyway?”

Hutch shrugs. “She just suggested it might make me look younger. I was ready to get rid of it anyway.”

I nod, not sure why when I’d told him something similar, it hadn’t had the same effect. How long have I been complaining about the cookie duster? Of course, I’m not a beautiful woman, and he doesn’t sleep with me.

“I tried to get her to stay longer, but she said she had to go.” I glance at him again. “You two have fun that last night she was here?”

“Sure.” Hutch drinks his wine. “We always have fun.”

“You spend the night together?”

Hutch eyes me. “What’s with the twenty questions?”

I shrug. “Just wondering. You two have been on and off for years.”

“It’s kind of hard to be together when she lives in New York, Starsk.”

“I know.” I look down at my glass, feeling emotional suddenly, thinking about Hutch spending all those months looking after me and neglecting himself entirely. “I just want you to be happy, is all.”

“I am happy,” Hutch grunts, doing a pretty good job of looking unhappy.

“I just got to thinking that you two are awfully compatible, and hell…I don’t know. Susie says she’s known for a long time it won’t happen for you two.”

That wasn’t quite what she’d said, but I can’t recall her exact words at the moment. Hutch is starting to look uncomfortable, but he’s a tough nut to crack, and I know I have to keep at him if I want to know anything at all that’s going on in that blond head of his.

“Did you tell her you don’t want to see her anymore?”

“Hell, Starsky! Do you really think I’d say that? Actually, I told her I’d like to see her a hell of a lot more, if it’s any of your damn business!” In his agitation, Hutch almost knocks over his wine as he jumps up and strides to the window to look out at the view. The sun’s going down and the sky’s all gold and orange. I can see miles of tree tops stretching into the distance.

I’m really surprised. I hadn’t gotten that at all from my talk with Susie. She’d pretty much said it was over between them, and if I remember right, she’d insinuated that Hutch was the reason they were calling it quits. Or at least that it was a mutual decision.

“Sorry, pal. She didn’t tell me.” I stay where I am, my feet propped on the glass coffee table in front of me, even though I know it drives Hutch nuts when I do that. I know if I go over there and try to console him, he’ll only get angrier. If I remain cool, he’ll come around in a few.

I remember when things used to be easy between us. When the years of backing each other on the streets and fighting the system hadn’t done a number on us and driven a wedge where I used to think no wedge would fit. As much as that day I was shot haunts me, I can’t help but be thankful for what it’s done for my relationship with Hutch; we seem to be slowly coming back to each other.

Sure enough, Hutch eventually gets his fill of the view and returns to where I’m sitting.

“It’s okay, Starsk. She was right–the two of us aren’t meant to be.”

I’m really confused. Susie says she could’ve fallen for Hutch, and Hutch says he wants to spend more time with Susie. So they break it all off? Doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense to me, but who am I to know what’s gone on between them? If the two of them don’t think they’re right for one another, then I guess it’s true. I sigh.

“I guess I just thought it would be cool if my two best friends got together.”

Hutch plops down on the sofa beside me, swings his legs up, and props his bare feet in my lap with a grin. I put my glass down and start rubbing them. I like doing this for him in count of he’s done hundreds of similar things for me since the shooting; like feeding me when my arms were still too sore to lift, and washing my hair and helping me shave. My throat tightens and I keep my eyes down so Hutch won’t see what a mess I am–I feel like a pregnant woman with hormones all over the place.

I concentrate on Hutch’s feet, which are really beautiful. It sounds dumb, I know, but Hutch has really nice feet. They’re long, and fine boned, with really well-shaped toes. He always keeps his toenails clipped, too. I like the way his second toes curve, and I spend some time rubbing them before turning my attention to the high arches, smoothing the skin there with my fingers. Hutch wiggles, breaking into laughter.

“Quit! That tickles.” He’s got his eyes closed and his head on the couch pillows, and he looks relaxed as I go back to massaging the underside of his left foot, running my hand over the smooth top, admiring the soft blond hairs growing there. I give equal attention to his right foot, and as I work on the arch again, this time pressing and kneading, Hutch lifts up and groans a little. The sound is so erotic, I pause, feeling my cock jump in my pants. Holy shit, that was weird. I massage some more so he won’t know how freaked out I just got, and then give his feet a little pat so he’ll let me up.

“Goin’ to bed,” I say.

“Thanks, Starsk, that was nice,” he tells me as I stand and pick up our glasses to take into the kitchen. His blue eyes look up at me so innocently, for a second he looks like a little kid.

“My pleasure,” I tell him with a surge of affection, thinking of how many times he crawled into bed with me at the hospital to comfort me when I was in so much goddamned pain I didn’t think I could get through another minute. I suddenly want to do something, anything, to let him know what he means to me. I settle on a little kiss on the forehead, which makes Hutch smile. I leave him there to lounge for a while and head upstairs.

I must’ve been really tired because I don’t remember anything after lying down, although I’d planned to read a little. I wake up, and the clock says 1:21. I’ve been in bed a few hours, and the hall is dark, so Hutch must’ve come up and gone to bed, too. I lie staring into the darkness for a while, listening to the unfamiliar sounds…particularly an owl hooting somewhere in the near distance. Not a big nature boy, the odd call gives me the creeps. Hutch would think that’s pretty funny if I told him, which I won’t.

A couple of minutes later, I’m just starting to fall back asleep when I hear a noise from Hutch’s bedroom, which is connected to mine by a bathroom, the door of which I’ve left ajar. It sounds like something fell off the table. I open my eyes and listen some more, and I think I hear a little grunt, and then I think maybe Hutch calls my name, but I’m not sure. I toss the covers off and get out of bed, padding across the plush carpeting and into the bathroom, flipping on the small lamp on the counter. The door leading into Hutch’s room is cracked, and I stick my head inside. I can make out his form lying in the bed. His head is tossing around on the pillow and I move closer, seeing that he’s in the throes of a bad dream. He’s all sweaty and breathing hard. I crawl up to the middle of the bed and reach out, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him a little bit.

“Hutch, wake up.”

He sucks in this huge breath and his eyes fly open, searching frantically in the darkness, hands grasping for me.

“Starsky?” he asks, finding and clutching my right arm.

“Yeah, I’m here. You’ve been dreaming, buddy.” I pat his bare chest and realize he’s shaking. Hutch rarely shows this kind of weakness, even in front of me. He looks really upset, and I wonder what kind of nightmare he’s had. “You okay?” I ask, and my heart sinks when his bottom lip starts to tremble.

Something about Hutch when he’s vulnerable makes him look about eight years old. It yanks at my heartstrings every time, and I swear I’d give him anything to make him smile when he’s really upset like this. I just want to cuddle and squeeze the living daylights out of him.

Hutch reaches for me and I gather him up without hesitating. A warm, sleep-rumpled Hutch feels better than anything I can think of at the moment. I press my lips beside his ear, pushing away thoughts of what is and is not appropriate behavior for two men. Hutch and me have never really paid much attention to that kind of thing anyway. He’s still shaking something awful, and I pull him closer, feeling his tremors running through me like we’re one person.

“Wanna talk about it?” I ask hopefully. In the dim light from the bathroom door that connects our rooms, I can see the damp curls on the nape of his neck. They smell like sweaty, sleepy Hutch, which is a good smell in my book. I rub his smooth back, relieved that the shaking is finally starting to let up.

“It must’ve been pretty bad,” I say, and he nods into my shoulder before turning and nuzzling into my neck. My heart squeezes, I love him so much.

Is there anything wrong with loving a man like I love my partner? I’ve felt this way so long, I don’t know any other way to feel. And I know he loves me, too, which gives me a warm feeling inside. It’s really something to know I have this person who’s always gonna love me no matter what, and who will always be there for me when I need him.

After a few minutes, Hutch pulls away and lies back down. He pats the mattress beside him, and I stretch out, knowing he doesn’t want to voice the fact that he doesn’t want to be alone right now. He takes a couple of deep breaths, and I lie on my side in the darkness and watch him. I think maybe now he’ll tell me what the dream was about. He turns his head slightly and smiles a little half-hearted smile. Almost apologetic.

“Gunther,” he says quietly, and turns away. I see him swallowing, hard. I reach over and take his hand in mine, squeezing it. I should’ve known that Hutch has nightmares about that day. I can only imagine how awful it must’ve been to feel so helpless. I heard from Dobey Hutch came into the hospital with my blood all over him and couldn’t string three words together coherently for hours after.

We don’t say anything else, and after a while I hear his breathing even out. Hutch doesn’t snore, but sometimes when he’s deeply asleep, he lets out this little puff of air from his mouth on every exhalation. It doesn’t bother me; I kind of like it.

A few hours later I wake up briefly, disoriented. I know I’m not at home, and I’m not on Hutch’s couch. I detect someone else in bed with me, and for a split second try to remember who the last lady was I’d been seeing. Then I hear that little puff of air and smile, remembering. I entertain the thought of getting up and going back into my room, but I’m so comfortable I can’t make myself do it.

I awake next to bright sunlight and wonderful smells from the kitchen, even if it is about five miles away from the bedrooms in this monstrosity of a house. I shower quickly and dress, then hurry downstairs to find that Hutch has cooked bacon, eggs, and toast. It’s delicious. We don’t mention the night before, but I remember awakening again before daylight and feeling really content having Hutch beside me in bed. It’s always like that for us–comfortable. It always has been, and I hope to God it always will be, because I don’t know what I’d do without that feeling in my life. Sometimes I wonder at it, that it’s like this between us, but most of the time I just accept it as one of the best parts of life and go on.

After we clean up, we go outside and play some basketball. There’s a big court, of course, because this place seems to have everything, and we play fast and competitive. It’s our own brand of basketball that we’ve developed over the years. Hutch is very hands-on, as he usually is, bodily moving me around on the court with little consideration for the rules. I like feeling his body behind me and his arms around me. I like the way we are together; I always have.

Since the shooting, I sometimes think we’ve not only turned things around, but we’ve grown closer than ever. It’s more than touching a lot and basically reading each other’s minds—it’s like he’s gone through everything with me and feels what I feel. I know he didn’t have any of the bullets hit him, but he suffered while I suffered. And I know what that’s like–that in a way it can be worse.

After about an hour of playing, we’re sweaty and tired. We go inside and while Hutch heads into the kitchen for some water, I head for the big master bathroom with the Jacuzzi.

I hunt around, studying the buttons and stuff before turning it on. It’s pretty loud, but the rushing waters look so inviting, I think it must be worth the noise. This bathroom has another one of those gorgeous views. There are no houses to be seen–only miles and miles of woodland. I can see some flatter land farther off, but it’s too far away for anyone to see me as I strip, even with binoculars. After a brief wash in the shower, I lower myself into the pulsing hot water, sighing with relief as my muscles immediately loosen, the tightness of my scars giving way little by little. It’s heavenly.

I lie there for a long time, the loud hum of the Jacuzzi and the rippling of the water the only sounds in the room. I may have drifted off for a few minutes.

A noise behind me brings my eyes wide open, and I look up to see Hutch standing there with a little smile on his face and a glass of ice water in his hand.

“You look really relaxed,” he says, handing me the water.

“Thanks, yeah, I am,” I say, taking the glass and drinking thirstily before putting it down. “Come on in; it feels great after that workout.”

I close my eyes again and surrender to the churning waters, my mind wandering to the future. I hear Hutch removing his shirt and unzipping his pants, then stepping into the shower and washing off. The shower stops, there’s a little splash, and I know he’s in the Jacuzzi with me. He lets out a sigh, and I smile.

“Isn’t it great? Wish I had one of these at home.”

“Ye-aah,” he says, and I feel his leg brush up against mine as he stretches out on the seat opposite. It’s silent for a bit, and I open one eye to find Hutch staring at me. He immediately looks away and out the window. A few minutes later, he slides down into the water and leans his head back with a sigh.

I think I’m gonna get this thing about the job off my chest while he’s so relaxed, so we can enjoy the rest of our vacation. I rustle up the nerve and begin.

“Hutch, I been thinking.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and I see a guarded expression cross his face.

I lick my lips and hesitate, because this isn’t easy. “I just–well, I don’t know how to say this…”

Hutch sits up straight, muscles tensing. I feel bad because I know all kinds of things must be going through his mind, but there honestly couldn’t be anything worse than what I’m about to say, except maybe that I’m dying or something.

“Tell me,” he demands, reminding me of when he’s got a perp cornered.

I take a breath and dive in. “I’m not sure I wanna go back to being a cop.”

There. I said it. I realize I’m holding my breath waiting for Hutch to say something, and I let it out carefully, blinking sweat from my eyes.

Hutch’s face is frozen into an expression I don’t recognize. I wish he would say something–the waiting is getting to me. My stomach coils up and my nerves tingle. Never one able to patiently wait through a silence like my partner can, I start talking. “I’m sorry. I-I’ve never loved anything more than being your partner. But after the shooting—damn, I just don’t want to risk my life anymore! You gotta believe me, buddy, it’s not you or anything–it’s me.” I shake my head, realizing this is sounding like a bad break-up speech. ” Now that it’s come time to go back, I just don’t think I want to do it. And worse than that–” I swallow hard, because I know what I’m going to say is selfish. “I don’t want you to do it either! I can’t stand the thought of anyone other than me backing you up out there. So, now you know what a selfish bastard I am.”

Hutch blinks, and I notice how his short blond hair has curled up in the heat and how it’s all messy on his forehead. He’s still not saying anything, and I’ll be damned if I’ll open my mouth and risk letting out a flood like that again. Instead, I concentrate on his face, how blue his eyes are, and what a nice mouth he has. It’s the most sensuous thing I’ve ever seen–the lips so full and kissable. I stop myself, thinking I’ve really gone over the edge here, admiring my best friend’s mouth. I pull my left hand out of the water and rub my face.

“I can’t believe it,” Hutch finally says, so quiet I almost don’t hear him over the loud drone of the Jacuzzi. I look at him between my fingers, then drop my hand.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

Hutch bites his lip and looks out over the endless trees. I feel sick. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him. Maybe I should’ve just decided to go back to the job–but I know I couldn’t do that. I know how important our partnership is to him–it is to me, too. But I came back from the dead, and dammit I want to live! And I want Hutch to live, too. What comes next for us is up in the air, but I know it will be something me and Hutch do together.

“Hutch, please…say something. Call me names if you want. I never thought our partnership would end at my decision, but I just can’t do it anymore.”

Hutch looks back at me, and my stomach drops because, fuck, his eyes are full of tears. I move toward him, my hands automatically pulling him to me. “Oh, buddy, don’t.” I say, my own voice clogged with emotion. Hutch pulls me closer, and it feels strange, this wet, slippery embrace we share, particularly when our naked bodies come together. It’s not at all like last night after the dream. Hutch whispers something in my ear, and I think I must’ve misheard him. I pull back a little.

“Did you just thank me?” I’m sort of kneeling in the Jacuzzi, my upper chest and shoulders out of the water, my hands resting on Hutch’s firm thighs.

“Starsky,” Hutch says, looking at me with wonder, “You’ve just made me the happiest man alive.” And he really does look happy this time. I am thoroughly confused.

I shake my head, my too-long curls bouncing a little. “I don’t understand.”

“I want out. I’ve wanted out for a long time—I just didn’t know how to tell you. I am so sick of the frustration, the hypocrisy. And when you got shot and almost died– Nothing’s worth that. I go in there and sit at my desk every day and think about ways to tell you I don’t want to be a cop anymore, and then I imagine your face when I tell you and change my mind. I thought you’d be devastated.”

I can’t believe it.

“Hutch, I wish you would’ve just told me. It would’ve made my decision a hellava lot easier.”

“I thought it would break your heart, and–like you–I couldn’t stand the thought of you out there with someone else.”

I start to chuckle. “We’re pretty funny, both of us scared to tell the other we want the same thing.”

I squeeze Hutch’s leg and suddenly remember that he’s naked and I’m naked and we’re awfully close to each other.

I stare at him, maybe a little too long, but he’s staring at me, too. Then, unbidden, Susie’s words come to me out of nowhere. I’ve known for a few years that I’m not the one who holds his heart.

It’s odd, because the knowledge just swells up in me like something taking over, and now I stare at Hutch like I’ve got a brand new pair of eyes in my sockets. Here I’ve known all along that he loves me and I love him. Maybe if he was a woman it all would’ve clicked.

Just to make sure, I ask him, “Hutch…who holds your heart?”

Hutch looks at me for a long time. My own heart is beating louder than the damn Jacuzzi. I wonder if Susie used those same words with him as she did with me, because he doesn’t seem surprised at all. He seems to know exactly what I’m saying and maybe even why I’m saying it.

“You do, Starsk,” he finally says. “Always have, always will.”

My mouth goes dry. Holy mother of God, I feel the same way. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“Uh…” Hutch flounders. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re both men. I didn’t think you’d want to know your best friend’s in love with you.”

I swallow. My hand moves a little on Hutch’s thigh and I suddenly realize that he’s hard.

It goes straight to my groin. My partner not only loves me, but he has the hots for me. Beautiful, blond, strong, long-legged Hutch has the hots for me. Suddenly I’m all a-tingle, just like I’ve got a naked woman in here with me instead of my masculine partner. Of its own volition, my hand slides down to touch his inner thigh. Hutch’s eyes grow wide. I can’t believe how excited I’m getting. I all of a sudden want to do stuff to Hutch that I’ve never thought I’d ever want to do to a man.

Really naughty stuff.

“I want to know everything that has to do with you,” I tell him, marveling at the smoky tone my voice takes. I move my fingers along the soft skin near his groin and stare into two of the most beautiful eyes in this world.

Man, I’ve got it bad!

I watch Hutch’s Adam’s apple bobbing in that gorgeous long neck. Then I say, “I feel the same way. I’m maybe even kinda hot for you, too.” That’s an understatement because I’ve suddenly got the biggest hard-on I’ve ever had.

Hutch’s mouth drops open at this news. He doesn’t look like he believes me, so I think I’ll prove it to him. Using his legs for leverage, I hoist myself out of the water and stand, dripping, before him, my blood-engorged cock about a foot from his face. I watch as Hutch’s eyes take it in, a look of wonder replacing the doubt I’d seen before. At that moment, watching him, the fact finally sinks in that my partner really does want me. He’s looking at my dick like a kid in a candy shop, and I get another rush of desire to go with all the love that’s overwhelming me.

I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but I get even harder, and when Hutch brings his hands up out of the water and slowly moves them along my bare legs, I let out a groan to rival any pornographic movie I’ve ever watched. All of my senses are on fire. When those big hands get to my ass and pull me closer, I think I’m gonna die right on the spot, because I suddenly know without a doubt what he’s gonna do, and then he does it…sticks out that pink tongue and licks all the way up my cock from the base to the tip, just like it’s a giant sucker he wants to savor.

I gasp, reeling at the sensation, not to mention the visual, and he does it again. And again. Until my legs are shaking so hard I can’t stand up any more, and I have to lean on his shoulders. He reaches up, takes me in his hand, and slides his hot mouth over me. I watch my prick disappearing behind those sensuous lips I was admiring earlier and feel my balls tighten.

“Oooooh, Hutch!” I groan as he bobs up and down on me, giving me the best head I’ve ever had in my life, and that’s saying a lot, believe me. The sensations are washing over me, and I can’t breathe normally. I move my hands to his silky hair, trying not to pull it as I watch him, and in no time, I’m coming. I don’t think Hutch knows what to do, because he pulls back and my ejaculate spurts all over his face. Seeing my cum on those lips snaps all my reserve, and I get back down on my knees and hungrily kiss it off. My mouth on his is another fantastic new feeling to add to my list, and we run our tongues together and moan into each other’s mouths, pressing our bodies as close as we can. We kiss so long, I completely lose track of time. Finally, I realize that his hot erection has been pressing against my stomach for a while, and I stand up shakily and offer my hand to help him up.

We get out of the Jacuzzi and I turn it off. I can’t believe I’m gonna to do this, but I really want to. Without giving him the chance to say anything, I put a towel on the floor between us and I drop to my knees and take that huge sucker into my mouth, driving it back until it hits my tonsils. Hutch sucks in air and jerks, and I grab his hips so he doesn’t choke me as I swallow, clamping down on his dick with my throat muscles. Hutch cries out, and I use my tongue to feel every vein and up under the ridge.

Hutch loses it and starts trying to fuck my mouth. I swear, I’m getting stiff again. It’s the fastest rebound I’ve ever had. His hands are in my hair and he’s breathing hard, and I’m taking him all in my mouth like I’ve been sucking dick forever. I move my hands back to his ass, and the feel of it in my hands makes me even hornier, if that’s possible. A part of me can’t believe I’m doing this with a man, but I gotta be honest and admit that something about Hutch has always turned me on. I lick and then suck hard on his prick and Hutch comes, his body jerking, little whimpers coming from his throat that make me want to turn him over and plow into him. Feeling reckless, I take all his cum in my mouth and swallow it, loving every drop because it’s Hutch’s. When I pull off, I grin up at him, and he’s looking down at me like I just fell out of the sky or something. With a surge of love and affection, I stand and wrap my arms around him, and we stay like that a long time before staggering into the bedroom and falling onto the bed in the master bedroom.

“I think I’m dreaming,” Hutch says after a while, his body lying wasted beside mine. I rise up on my elbow to look at him.

“You’re not dreaming. I love you like I’ve always loved you. I just showed you how much.”

He looks at me, and my heart staggers with the knowledge that I make Hutch happy.

“I love you, too, Starsk—much more than I can say.” Hutch pulls me down to him and kisses me, lingeringly. When we pull apart he says, “I want you inside me,” and, fuck, I almost come on the sheets. Gees, this is definitely a day for surprises. I don’t think my heart can stand it.

“Are you kidding me?” I ask. I can’t help it–I picture myself buried between those ass cheeks, pounding into him, and suddenly I want it more than anything.

“I’m not kidding. I want you inside of me, loving me.” Hutch looks at me soft and sweet, the way no other man I’ve ever known’s been able to do with the same results.

I dip my head and press my forehead to his. “God, you kill me, Hutchinson.” I kiss his cheek and then his nose. “I don’t know anything about making love to a man.”

Hutch laughs. “Coulda fooled me,” and I feel myself blushing. He considers a moment. “We just need something slippery, so it’ll slide in.”

Slide in. My cock jumps at the words.

“I’ll go look around.” I hop off the bed, feeling Hutch’s eyes on my ass all the way to the bathroom.

I’m not in the habit of going through other people’s stuff, at least not off the job, but this is an emergency. Not imagining I’d need any, I don’t have any lube in my suitcase. This mausoleum is, unbelievably, not the owner’s primary residence, so I’m not even sure I’ll find something we can use.

Tearing into the medicine cabinet, all I can come up with is a jar of Ben Gay. Thinking this would probably not be the most comfortable thing to put on my dick, I move to the closet and push around the towels. I’m beginning to think I’m going to have to run the five miles to the kitchen and grab some cooking oil when I come across a tub of petroleum jelly.

Holding it up like a trophy, I bring it into the bedroom. Hutch looks so good lying there naked, his long legs slightly spread and a hornier-than-hell look on his face, I stop and just stare at him.

“Come’ere,” he says, his voice pure sex. I stumble toward him, legs no longer cooperating fully with my brain. Hutch takes the tub and opens it, then scoops up a glob of the petroleum jelly with one long finger and starts spreading it on my aching dick. I can’t believe I’m still hard, but I am. Being with him like this has got me hotter than I’ve been in years, and watching him get me ready to fuck him has driven all coherent thought from my brain. When he’s finished, he takes my hand and tugs me toward him. I obediently climb up and kneel between his legs. I’m breathing hard and starting to sweat. I can’t believe this is happening.

“You–I—we—” I stammer like an idiot. Clearing my throat and concentrating real hard, I start again. “I don’t know how to do this. Isn’t it going to hurt you?” I wanna fuck him so bad, but I don’t wanna hurt him.

In answer, Hutch offers me the tub of Vaseline and I scoop some out, feeling inadequate to the task before me. Solemnly, as if I’m preparing him for surgery or something, I slide my fingers down and rub at his opening. I swear I see his cock get bigger right before my eyes. Emboldened, I carefully glide my index finger inside him. My breath speeds up at the feeling of the hot tunnel, so tight, that will soon encase my aching cock, and I wiggle my finger around, stretching.

Hutch spreads his legs, and I have to close my eyes a minute so I won’t come. Grabbing his cock with my other hand, I pump it a few times, and Hutch arches and moans. Automatically, I echo him. I try two fingers, then three, pumping them inside of him. He starts to push onto my hand, and I come undone. I can’t wait anymore.

We’re evidently on the same page.

“Now, Starsk, now,” Hutch squirms, and I pull my hand away, replacing it with my cock. He lifts his ass up off the bed, and the head slips in easier than I could’ve imagined, the tight heat making me weak. Hutch wraps those long legs around me, wiggling his ass and pulling me in like a dog on a leash. I cry out and sink inside him down to the base, my nuts against his crack, and fall forward onto my hands.

“Come on, Starsky,” Hutch begs, “Fuck me, please!”

Out of all the words in the world, those are some I never expected to hear from Hutch’s lips.

Cursing under my breath, I start pumping into Hutch as hard as I can, slamming him back so that he has to put a hand against the head board to keep his skull from hitting it. I let out a growl that sounds like it belongs in some primeval swamp B movie instead of a bedroom, thrusting for all I’m worth, my world spinning around me. The two of us—me and Hutch–we’re in a vortex and being sucked under into some other world where there’s only pleasure and sweet sensation. I can hear each breath he sucks into his lungs and each slap of my nuts hitting his bare ass. A low rumble begins deep in my throat as my climax starts to build.

I can see Hutch is getting there, too, because he’s got a look on his face like he’s seeing God somewhere near the ceiling. I’m brushing against something inside him with my cock, and every time I do, he arches higher off the bed and his legs tighten around me. This feeling, it’s exquisite. I want it to last forever, yet I feel like I’m gonna die if I don’t get the release my body screams for.

“S-starsky!” Hutch yells, jerking, and he shoots white semen all over his stomach. Knowing I did that to him pushes me over. I slam into him again, watching him squirm and writhe in the last throes of orgasm and suddenly I’m coming like a fire hose until I’m out of breath and heaving over him.

I collapse, totally spent, and I slip out and move upward so that our pounding hearts are pressed together.

“Man, oh man,” I finally manage to say, and Hutch’s laugh is a rumble beneath my ear.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time, buddy,” Hutch admits, smoothing my sweat-soaked hair with his hand. “I just can’t believe you wanted it, too.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you could suggest that involves me touching you or you touching me that I would refuse you,” I say truthfully, kissing the skin above his heart.

“I’ll have to remember that,” Hutch says with some humor. We fall asleep for a while, or maybe we pass out, and it’s late afternoon when we wake up. Trailing my finger down Hutch’s chest and marveling at what’s happened between us, I pose a question.

“So, Hutch, am I the reason Susie wouldn’t get serious with you?”

Hutch nods, a finger twirling in one of my curls. “She guessed a long time ago, but she only confronted me with it when I told her I wanted her to stick around in Bay City. She said she didn’t want to be second best. It really shocked me, because I’d thought I’d hidden my feelings for you so well. And, of course, I never thought you and I had a chance for anything more than friendship. Although she insisted I should tell you how I feel.”

“She’s pretty perceptive,” I say, sliding off him and onto my side, propping my head on my hand. “She told me she isn’t the one who holds your heart, but I didn’t really figure it out until we were in the hot tub. Something about the way you were looking at me.”

Hutch reaches out and runs a finger over my lips. I open my mouth and take it in, sucking gently, our eyes never breaking contact.

“What’re we gonna do now?” Hutch asks. I release his finger and grin.

“I can think of a few things.”

Hutch smiles, and it’s beautiful. “No, Dummy, I mean–we’re not gonna be cops anymore, and we seem to have started something between us.”

“It’ll come to us,” I say, not really worried. I know that I’d like to find a place where we can live together forever, but I don’t want to push right now. A whole new world is opening up for us, and I, for one, am excited. I know that change makes Hutch nervous, though, so I’m already thinking of ways to clear the path for him. Leaning toward him, I kiss that gorgeous mouth, feeling how soft and supple his lips are and how warm and slippery his tongue is against mine. He seems eager to be in my arms, and begins sucking on my tongue, which evidently has a direct line to my cock, because it moves toward him. That feeling is building inside me again, and I want him like crazy. I wonder if it’s always going to be this way with us. We might have to work out of our house or something, so we can fuck every half hour or so. Hutch pulls me to him, and turns his head, deepening the kiss. I can lie against his smooth skin and kiss him all night, but I’m thinking I want that cock up inside of me. I reach down and fondle it, and find that the monster’s already waking up.

“Mmmm,” Hutch rumbles. I pull away and flip over onto my stomach, wiggling my ass in invitation.

“Come on, big boy. Give it to me.”

Hutch’s breath hitches in his throat. “Starsk…are you sure?”

“What, you didn’t like it when I did it to you?”

“Okay, you’ve got a point.” Hutch grabs the jelly and smooths some down my crack. I can’t help but moan, it feels so good, especially when he starts circling my hole with his finger. I’ve got my ass up in the air and my cheek to the mattress, baring everything, but I don’t care. I start wiggling around, and he pushes his finger in, stretching me. It feels weird, but not bad. The more he moves it, the more I like it.

Hutch inserts another finger, and another, and then he hits something that causes me to jump and cry out. God, it feels so good! A couple minutes more and I feel the tip of his cock replacing his fingers. I make a real effort to relax my muscles. It really does hurt going in, but I concentrate on breathing slowly in and out, and then when Hutch reaches around and grabs hold of my cock, the sensations start to build, and I must be relaxing because the rest of him is sliding inside me and…oooooh…it feels damn fucking spectacular. I could write a fucking poem about it, that’s how fucking good it feels. Hutch lets go of my dick and grabs my hips, pumping in and out of me, each swipe inward and then back out sending me higher and higher until I’m babbling and grunting and groaning. I’ve never felt so completely out of my head during sex before. I’m used to being the one in control– it’d almost be scary if I wasn’t with Hutch.

Hutch starts making a high keening sound and the rhythm of his thrusts shake the bed. In the back of my mind I can hear it creaking and straining, and I wonder how much this thing will cost if we have to replace it, and how embarrassing that would be, but then the feeling of his sack slapping against mine takes over, making me crazy, along with the sensation of that huge prick stretching my ass to its limits, and I cry out again and again, swearing at him to speed it up and fuck me harder, until everything in me is this tight bundle that finally contracts and explodes. And then I’m coming all over the sheets, and Hutch cries out and he’s filling my ass, and I swear I can feel all that hot cum coating my insides.

I’m breathing so hard and so deep, it’s like I’ve just finished a triathlon or something.

As I come down off the high of my monumental orgasm, I realize my hands are clenched in the pillow and I ease up, wiggling my stiff fingers. Hutch has collapsed over me, and he’s sprinkling kisses all over my sweaty back. I clench my butt, wanting to squeeze every last drop out of him, and he groans hoarsely, then slides out of me and rolls over. Carefully, I loosen my legs and straighten them out, feeling so replete and content I think I can sleep for days. Just before I nod off, I reach out my hand and Hutch enfolds it in his.

Sometime in the night I awaken for a moment and realize that we’ve gravitated toward each other and are wrapped together, limbs tangled. Nothing has ever felt so right to me, and I am able to let go of any fears and reservations for the future that’ve been trying to worm their way into my brain. Whatever we do, Hutch and me will do it together. And I know that whatever we do together always turns out right.

finis