The Kiss

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Set after the tag to the episode “Death In A Different Place.” Hutch thinks about his past loves which led him to kissing Starsky.

 

Notes (from Me and Thee Archive): This is my first slash story which is why I checked off the category ‘first time story’. I’ve had the idea in my head for awhile and finally got up the nerve to give it life. I think it’s very possible that the strong friendship they shared could have turned into a more committed love.

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Hutch to Starsky: “You’re not even a good kisser.”
Starsky to Hutch: “How do you know?”

Those words were meant to tease but I heard the pure hurt in Starsky’s voice. He was a man. A man who loved with his whole body. He wore his heart on his sleeve and gave all of himself to anyone who came into his life.

We were at the end of a difficult case. We had solved a crime that exposed a close friend of Starsky’s as a gay cop, a gay family man. John Blaine was someone that he had looked up to. John was a friend to a young Starsky. My partner looked so confused and hurt but he couldn’t let his love for the man go. I know the experience made him question his own feelings toward John but in the end, he was still someone Starsky loved. For the dark haired man, there was only one kind of love between men. The kind that was without question a pure and heterosexual love which grew with time and admiration.

That would change for both of us. It took time but we were helpless to deny what we were lucky enough to find. We didn’t choose to love- rather-, love chose us. Together we were complete. It was a revelation to confess how very deep our commitment went. We have John Blaine to thank for that.

It took awhile but I found out for myself just how good a kisser Starsky really is. Starsky is the best. He’s my friend and partner, not just on the job but also, in life.

How did we get here? The hell if I know but it just happened. Maybe on a bet at first but when it happened, neither one of us could deny the sparks, the electric tingles that flowed through that one kiss. I had never felt that way with any woman before. Yep, I was married and Van and I had good sex. When she wanted it. She always told me that

I rocked her world and that when I kissed her, she melted. Well, as that turned out those were just words. No feeling in them and no truth. Van was ice. She hated me after I became a cop and so she punished me by just laying under me. Not moving, not thinking, not seeing or feeling anything I offered.

I was sure that I had everything I ever wanted in my relationship with Gillian. She completed me. She was part of me. The only thing in our way was her pimp, Grossman and the sick relationship he had with his mother.

I loved Gillian with my whole heart and I gave her everything I had. The sex was more than that. We held each other, touched each other, loved each other. Looking back now, I can’t stop the niggling voice that reminds me that’s why she was good at her job. But I know that what we had was real. I had the part of her that she didn’t share with anyone else. She wanted out of that life to be with me completely. But Grossman took that away from both of us. He’s still sitting in that jail rotting away while I spent a long time damning him to hell for denying me Gillian.

But then, I wouldn’t have this love beside me. I would never have experienced the only pure, true partner which I was meant to experience completely. I resisted for so long the possibility of loving Starsky as more than just a friend. Isn’t that what they say? That you should be friends first before you become lovers? That the perfect relationship

for you is right beside you?

Now, I roll on my side to contemplate the beautiful face before me. For once, I awaken before him and I get to gaze on the silhouette resting on the pillow.

There is just enough light coming in between the drawn curtain for me to trace with my eyes the outline of his face. I resist the immediate urge to touch and stroke the little mole under his eye. I marvel at the strong nose and bow lips. It’s almost sinful for any man to be this handsome.

I concentrate on those lips. I don’t know why, as I lay here this morning, but, I think back to that conversation in the car which was a long time and many kisses ago.

I continue to stare at the feathery lashes that fan out, obscuring my favorite color. They shield that sapphire blue that after such a long time can still make my heart quicken and my mouth water.

Finally, he makes those little movements with his mouth just before he’s totally awake. His mouth twitches, he rubs his nose and raises his hands above his head. That action alone makes my breath come in short bursts of anticipation. The arms stretch over the furred chest. The muscles outline his stomach and rib cage. He’s not quite awake but I know he senses that I am near.

He rolls toward me, cracks one eye open and his face crinkles with a sleepy grin. Suddenly he brushes my nose with a quick kiss, rolls to the other side of the bed and jogs to the bathroom.

Romantic right? Well, I know to expect one more thing before our hectic day begins. I indulge in my own first morning stretch and sit on the side of the bed. I run my hand through my bed mashed hair and tilt my head back as a wide yawn makes my ears crack.

I feel the bed dip and I open my eyes to find the dark ruffled head of hair resting on my shoulder.

I reach over and tilt his head toward me. I run my finger around those curved lips, feeling their moisture, loving the feel under my finger.

I just can’t hold back any longer. We lean in toward each other but Starsky reaches for my chin. He holds my face in his two hands. Our eyes lock. It strikes me as funny that what I notice most at that moment is the smell of toothpaste. Here I am still with morning breath, but I guess it doesn’t matter this morning.

His mouth connects with mine. The softness of his lips always amazes me. At first the kiss is gentle, sleepy. But Starsky lets go of my face only to push us closer. The urgency builds. The sweetness of the toothpaste mixes with Starsky’s other natural smell and I reach around to slide my hand down his chest.

All at once the kiss is broken. I don’t remember who came up for air first but once again I’m looking into those blue eyes. They hold my gaze.

Starsky strokes my cheek and follows the line of my jaw over to my lips. He traces my upper lip one more time before he smiles and stands up.

I stare up at him and have to catch my breath before I can speak.

“I was so wrong all those years ago Starsky. You are a good kisser. You still take my breath away.”