Uninvited Guests

367

Uninvited guests, who are out for revenge, try to make the life of one of the boys extremely difficult.

 

WARNING! This story contains graphic, non-consensual rape. It’s the first time I’m writing a story like this for this fandom. If it’s not your cup of tea, please don’t upset yourself by reading it. But I hope the rest of you will enjoy

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Chapter One

It was late Friday evening in Bay City, and the rush hour traffic had subsided. Starsky was driving his beautiful blond home to Venice Place. It was a long, tiring day for the partners. They completed three busts: a teenage prostitute, an armed robber, and the last was the toughest: a drunken father who had beaten his wife and two young kids. It was a tough case, but after arresting the monster, it was a wonderful feeling to get him away from his family and placed in the safety of a shelter.

“Man, I’m glad this day is over,” the blond said, laying his head back on the headrest and shutting his eyes.

Starsky glanced at his partner with a big smile. “Yeah, me too. I’m lookin forward to seein’ Ma this weekend and I’m glad the Cap’ allowed me to return Monday morning.”

Hutch opened his eyes and turned his head toward Starsky. “Red eye?“

“Yeah, but I don’t mind. It lets me spend more time with Ma on Sunday.”

“What time is your flight in the morning?”

“8 a.m. I was able to get a direct flight to JFK.”

“That’s great,” Hutch replied, yawning loudly.

“So, what are you gonna be up to this weekend?”

“Well, while you’re gone, Dobey suggested I come in to catch up on the reports that were due a week ago.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, babe. For the whole weekend?” The brunet’s cheerful attitude diminished at the news.

“No, just tomorrow. That’s, of course if I get ‘em all done, then I’ll have Sunday all to myself.”

“Ya know, that’s not fair. It’s like he’s punishin’ you because I won’t be there to help you.”

“Well, Starsk, I think Dobey’s aware that I’m the one who does most of the paperwork between the two of us. I figure he thinks I’ll get more done without you around.”

Starsky was frowning at this declaration. “I do my share.”

Hutch saw the look. “Of course you do, Gordo. It’s just that I do them a little faster, that’s all.”

Starsky narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. “Whatever.”

The Torino pulled up in front of Venice Place, and Hutch turned toward his partner. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to the airport?”

“Nah, I’ll take a cab.”

They sat in silence for a moment until Starsky asked, “How tired are ya?” His right hand was slowly sliding up Hutch’s inner thigh to his crotch, and began rubbing the quickly growing organ.

Hutch looked into the lustful sapphire eyes. “Whatcha got in mind?” His voice was deep with arousal.

“Come on, I’ll show ya.” Starsky got out, slammed the door of the Torino, and dashed up the stairs to Hutch’s place, leaving him in the dust.

Arriving at Hutch’s door first, Starsky eagerly waited for his blond partner to open the door. “You better hurry up, Blondie, or I’m gonna take you right out here.” The brunet’s hands were all over his lover like an eight-tentacled octopus, squeezing and groping.

Hutch struggled to produce and get the key into the lock due to Starsky’s advances on his body. His anxiety heightened with the fear that his curly-haired lover would make good on his threat.

Once the big blond got the door open, Starsky immediately pushed his partner inside and kicked it close. He walked Hutch backwards while pulling the blond’s jacket off his shoulders, dropping it on the floor. Then he dragged Hutch’s turtleneck over his head and threw it aside.

Hutch quickly peeled off Starsky’s leather jacket, and the brunet raised his arms so Hutch could pull his t-shirt over his head.

The partners quickly removed their shoes and socks, then frantically attacked each other’s zippers. Starsky managed to open Hutch’s cords and push them down his long legs for him to step out of.

Hutch, on the other hand, was having a bit of difficulty with his partner’s belt. In his impatience, Starsky helped open the buckle and zipped down his fly. Hutch took over and peeled the snug-fitting denim over Starsky’s firm ass and down his muscular legs, pulling them off his feet.

The blond grabbed the sides of the brunet’s head and kissed him hard. After a brief moment of locking eyes, Hutch took Starsky’s hand and led him toward his bedroom. He forcefully shoved him onto his back with a bounce and swiftly got rid of the briefs. Once the curly-haired man was lying naked as the day he was born, Hutch began to take off his boxers,, and Starsky stopped him.

“Don’t- let me,” Starsky whispered, dragging himself to the foot of the bed and tugging the underwear down for Hutch to step out of. For a few seconds, the brunet took in the amazing growing cock before him, then slipped his hands around Hutch’s hips, gripped the firm butt-cheeks, and pulled him closer. The blond’s cock bobbed inches away from his face, and Starsky grasped the base and took the bulbous head into his warm, wet mouth.

Hutch moaned as he glanced down at the curly head moving back and forth on his cock. He placed long fingers in the silky curls, gently caressing the head that was bringing him close to ecstasy.

Starsky tasted the salty essence of his lover, signifying the beginning of his climax.

“Stop, babe,” Hutch said suddenly.

The brunet took his mouth off the stiff phallus and looked up questioningly at his lover.

Hutch gave Starsky a warm smile, then gently placed his hand on the side of the handsome face and gazed into the deep blue eyes. “I wanna come inside you.”

Starsky gave him a crooked smile and crawled onto the mattress, laying down on his belly. He snatched a pillow and pushed it under his hips, raising his buttocks. After folding his arms under his chin, he looked back at his lover.

The blond jogged to his night table, pulled out the drawer, and took out a tube of KY Jelly. After positioning himself at Starsky’s feet, he spread the brunette’s legs and crawled between them.

Starsky kept his cobalt eyes on him as Hutch squeezed the lube into his palm and liberally coated his stiff phallus with the thick gel.

Hutch glanced down at his lover’s ass—the ample globes waiting to be entered. He placed his hand on each buttock, squeezing and gripping them hard, making his partner moan. He put both thumbs into Starsky’s crack, spreading the cheeks apart to expose the puckered hole. After positioning his cock, he held onto the curly haired man’s hips and slid inside.

Starsky let out a low groan as the big blond’s impressive member breached the ring of muscle, and Hutch paused a moment before plunging deep into him. He rested his forehead on his folded arms, shutting his eyes as the beautiful man above claimed him. He felt the enormous cock pounding him into the mattress over and, over and with every hard thrust, the tip of Hutch’s cock hit his pleasure center, causing him to cry out with uncontrollable ecstasy.

“Oh God, Hutch! Fuck me! Fuck me good!” the brunet shouted as he began to hump the pillow beneath him in an effort to generate fiction for his trapped cock that would bring him closer and closer to release.

As if obeying Starsky’s pleas, Hutch began to thrust even harder, and soon his orgasm arrived, spewing his seed deep into Starsky’s ass.

Moments later, the brunet let out a muffled cry as he came onto the pillow.

The Hutch’s limp cock slipped from Starsky, and he fell onto his side next to his partner, completely spent.

Starsky was still on his belly, unable to move.

Hutch leaned up on one elbow and leisurely caressed the firm mounds of his lover’s ass. “You okay, buddy?”

“Hmm?” Starsky uttered sleepily and thoroughly sated.

Hutch swatted him on his butt-cheek, causing the brunet to stir. “Ow, what’d ’ya do that for?” he yelped, reaching back to rub out the sting.

“It’s late, and you have to get up early.” Hutch got off the bed and stood up.

Starsky rolled off the pillow onto his back and propped himself on his elbows. He looked down at himself, seeing his sticky cum covered groin and the mess it made on the pillow. “Aw man Hutch, I’m sorry about your pillow,” he said, swiping at the wet stain.

“It’s okay — it can be washed. Now let’s get you up and into the shower.” Hutch grabbed Starsky’s hand and pulled him off the bed.

“I’ll just wash up and shower at my place in the morning,” Starsky told him, staggering tiredly into the bathroom.

Hutch shrugged into his robe and waited at his kitchen table for his lover to come out.

Starsky emerged naked, and padded over to his discarded clothes and began to dress. After dressing, he tied his Adidas and turned to his lover.

“Well, um, I guess I’d better go,” Starsky announced with a lopsided grin, feeling a little shy.

Right after being very intimate with his partner, Starsky always felt awkward. Despite their physical relationship being new, they still had a strong working partnership and friendship with Hutch. He and Hutch have only been together for five months.

The blond noticed his shyness and found it adorable. He got up from the table and stood in front of Starsky, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Gonna miss ya mush-brain.”

Starsky returned the hug, then stepped back, looking at his lover incredulously. “Jeez Hutch, I’m only goin for the weekend. I’ll be back on Monday,” he assured, grinning.

Hutch placed his hand on the back of Starsky’s neck, bringing him forward and kissing him hard. When the kiss was done, it left both men panting.

Starsky sucked in his kissed, swollen lower lip, savoring the taste of the blond. “I thought you said I have to get up early.”

“I did. What’s your point?” Hutch asked, shoving his hands in the pockets of his robe.

“You kiss me like that and expect me to leave?”

“Just givin’ ya somethin’ to remember me by.” The blond grinned, moving in for another kiss that was more tender.

“Mmm,” Starsky uttered, moving toward the door with his lips still attached to his lover’s. After breaking the contact, Starsky placed his hand on the knob and looked back. “Damn, Blintz, I should go away more often,” he grinned, tugging the door open.

“I don’t think so, Gordo. You’d better bring that amazing ass back to me ASAP. Is that clear?” Hutch asked, raising his eyebrows and pointing his finger.

“Yes, sir, Blondie, sir.” Starsky saluted and went out the door.

***S&H***

It was close to midnight by the time Starsky arrived at his apartment. He was just too tired to pack, so he decided to do it in the morning. He hung his jacket and holstered the Beretta on the coat rack in his bedroom, then changed into his pajama bottoms, brushed his teeth, and crawled into bed. After setting the alarm clock for 5:30 a.m., Starsky turned on his side and fell asleep.

Three hours after he fell into a deep slumber, two men were at his front door, picking the lock. Once it opened, they quietly stepped inside. Both men were in their thirties; one wore a dark blue knit beanie, blue jeans, a denim jacket, with a white t-shirt underneath and black Converse sneakers. He had an average build and stood about 5ft. 10in. The other had long black hair and wore blue jeans, a white sweatshirt and brown work boots. He was an imposing figure — a big, burly man standing at 6ft. 2in.

The man in the beanie switched on a flashlight and crept into the darkened apartment, with his partner staying near the closed front door. He shined the beam around the room until it landed on the entrance of the bedroom. Moving forward and making sure his footfalls were light, he stood in the doorway. He lit the face of the sound asleep man on the bed, turned to his partner.

“Psst, c’mere.”

The black-haired man came to stand next to his partner, and both men peered into the room, watching the sleeping, curly-haired cop.

The flashlight searched the room and came upon an object he surely wanted to find. “Stay here,” he whispered to the big man, then stepped inside. Without taking his eyes off the sleeping form, he tiptoed toward the coat rack and took the Beretta from its holster. Before exiting the bedroom, he stood at the foot of the young detective’s bed and looked down, smiling wickedly. “Sleep well, pig, cause you’re gonna need your rest,” he whispered, before going back to his partner.

Once outside the bedroom, the big man asked, “Whada we gonna do now?”

“We’re gonna wait in the living room until sleeping beauty wakes up.”

The big man nodded, then both men moved to the living room.

The beanie man handed his partner Starsky’s Beretta. “Here. You don’t have a gun, so use this one. I brought my 38.”

He took the weapon, turning it in his hand. He was just about to walk away when the redhead called to him, “Hey. Don’t hesitate to use it if you have to, but keep in mind that we’re here so I could get revenge, so I want him to suffer as long as possible.”

The big man nodded, producing a wide, sinister grin, then went to sit on the Peacock chair, with Starsky’s Beretta resting on his lap. The other man moved to sit on the armchair next to the couch, with the 38 on his lap. He shut off the flashlight, plunging them into darkness. The only light in the room came from the moon beam filtering through the balcony’s glass door.

***S&H***

Starsky’s alarm went off at the set time, but the sleepy brunet kept hitting the snooze. Suddenly his phone rang, and he answered gruffly…

“What.”

“Dummy, are you still asleep?”

“No, cause you just woke me up.” Starsky glanced at the clock and saw that it was 6 a.m. “Shit! It’s six o’clock and I still have to pack, shower, and make it to the airport by 7:00.” Immediately, he leapt from the bed, holding the handset between his ear and shoulder. He carried the phone’s cradle as he moved about the bedroom. “Ya know, this is all your fault, Blintz.”

“My fault? Why is it my fault?”

“You were the one who wanted to give me a goodbye fuck,” Starsky told him, placing the phone’s base on the dresser, while he threw some clothes into his carry-on.

Hutch shook his head, snorting. “If I recall, you wanted to come up to my place, then attacked me as soon as I opened the door.” Hutch was grinning ear to ear as he recalled the moment.

“Well, I didn’t hear ya callin’ the cops.” The brunet was smiling as he continued to pack.

“No, but I did hear ya callin my name.”

“Look, gotta go,” Starsky said. “I don’t wanna miss my flight. Ma will kill me if I don’t show up when I said I would.”

“Alright. Call me when you get there.”

“Yeah, okay, bye.” Starsky hung up, then jogged into the bathroom, and turned on the shower. After adjusting the water temperature, he stripped and stepped under the hot spray.

Starsky’s uninvited guests were on high alert as they listened to the brunet move about. Once they heard the shower stop, the beanie man motioned to his dark-haired partner. “Get behind the chair and keep out of sight until I tell you to come out”

The burly man nodded, then crouched down behind the Peacock chair out of sight and waited.

After exiting the stall, he dried his body with a large bath towel. He decided there wasn’t enough time to wash his hair and dry it, so he wrapped the towel around his narrow hips and began to shave. When he was done, he carried his shaving kit, shampoo, and conditioner out of the bathroom and placed them into his carry-on. He brewed coffee in the kitchen before getting dressed to leave for the airport. It was too late to prepare and eat breakfast, so he’d grab something there.

As Starsky padded to the kitchen, he didn’t notice the figure sitting in the shadows, taking up residence on his couch. As he turned away from the counter, he saw his end table lamp go on, illuminating someone on his couch. His pulse quickened as he turned to open a drawer and grab a large carving knife. He held it firmly as he crept into the living room and rounded the end table, with the knife leading the way.

When Starsky came face to face with the stranger, he asked, “What the fuck are you doin in my apartment?”

“Detective Starsky, right?” the man asked, smirking. “I think that’s a bit too formal. How about dirty, lousy pig? That seems more accurate.” Then his eyes focused on the knife the brunet was holding. “Are you gonna use that on me, pig?”

“Yeah, unless you don’t get the fuck out of my house!” Starsky shouted, standing in front of the man. The brunet’s sapphire eyes grew wide when he noticed the 38 lying on the man’s lap.

The beanie man followed his gaze. “Ya think you can stab me before I blow a hole into you, huh?” He centered the barrel on Starsky’s chest.

Starsky held the knife steady as the intruder kept the barrel pointed at him.

“You’d better put down the knife or you won’t have a hand to hold another one,” he warned, aiming the barrel at Starsky’s hand. “I’d say your pig life would be over after that.”

Once Starsky heard the gun cock, he held up his right hand and slowly placed the knife on the end table, never taking his eyes off him.

“Do you think I’m stupid? Take it to the kitchen and put it back in the drawer.”

The brunet picked up the knife and went back into the kitchen. After putting the knife back in the drawer, he turned to find the man standing behind him.

“That’s a good boy. If you keep up this good behavior, then I wouldn’t have to kill you…yet. Get back in the living room,” the beanie man ordered, keeping the gun on Starsky as the brunet passed him and returned to the living room.

Starsky stood in front of the couch and watched the intruder sit back down, resting his foot on his ankle with the gun aimed at him.

“What the fuck do you want?” Starsky spat as he stared the man down with deadly sapphire eyes.

“Hmm, what do I want? Let me see,” the man said, tapping his finger on his chin whimsically. “Do you recognize me?”

Starsky narrowed his eyes, trying to place the face.

“Maybe this will help.” The man pulled off his beanie, revealing a bright red mop of hair.

Suddenly, Starsky recalled. He and Hutch were on a case about  four months ago where four young men (two were white and two were Black) had robbed a liqueur store at gunpoint. Starsky had taken down the gun toting member, but only after he was hit in the arm. He recalled the perp having red-hair. The other members were arrested and sentenced to five to nine years in state prison for second degree robbery without a firearm, while the red-head got 25 years to life without parole for brandishing a weapon and attempting to murder a police officer.

The redhead saw the dawn of recognition on the dark-haired detective’s face. “I see you, remember.” He smiled, his hazel eyes sparkling.

“Flynn. Yeah, I remember you. What the fuck are you doin out? I remember you got twenty-five to life.”

“But I didn’t.”

Starsky looked at Flynn, frowning in bewilderment.

“Ya see, I wasn’t the one you sent to prison. It was my twin brother.”

That asshole had a twin brother. One was more than enough.

“So whaddaya doin’ here? Whaddaya want?”

“Now I thought you were a smart cop. I want payback for puttin my brother away.”

“You’ve got to be kiddin. Your fuckin’ brother deserves to be right where he is. He held up that store owner at gunpoint, then tried to kill me,” Starsky said with fury in his voice.

“And he should have. If it wasn’t for you, my brother would be with me instead of rottin in that stinkin prison cell.”

The brunet took a step closer to Flynn, and he raised the gun higher. “You’d better step back.”

“What if I don’t? Ya gonna shoot me? I figure if you really wanted to, you would have done it already.”

“So you are smart. That’s right, I don’t wanna kill you. I want to make you pay for what you did to my twin. Do you have any idea what it’s like to lose your twin? I’m lost without him,” he admitted, giving Starsky a moment of self-pity.

“Well, you should have stopped him.”

“I tried, but he wouldn’t listen. He was always so damned bull-headed,” he said, shaking his head.

“Your brother is the only one at fault for him being put in prison, not me, so why don’t you get the fuck out of here before you’ll be in there too for breaking, entering, and holding a police officer at gunpoint,” Starsky told him, fiery sapphire eyes.

The angry redhead suddenly jumped up from the couch and got in Starsky’s face.

“No pig, it’s your fucking fault! You were the one who arrested him!” Flynn shouted. “Do you know what they did to my brother while he was in there?”

Starsky didn’t respond.

“ANSWER ME!” he yelled, putting the gun to the brunet’s head.

“No, I don’t.”

“They raped him. He told me they did it almost every Goddamn day that he was in there.” Flynn’s anger was turning to rage as he cried and paced around the room.

Panic started to build as Starsky thought about what this might mean for him, but his expression remained cold as his eyes followed Flynn.

“And do you know what my brother did to stop it?”

Starsky shook his head.

“He fuckin’ killed himself! He hung himself with his own clothes from the top bunk.”

“I’m really sor…” Starsky began sympathetically.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Flynn yelled, cutting him off. “You ain’t sorry, but you will be.” Flynn sat back down on the couch, ogling him. “Take it off.”

Starsky blinked, then gave him a puzzled expression.

“What? You don’t understand English? Take off the fucking towel. I want to see what I’ll be working with,” Flynn said with a lecherous gleam in his eye.

Shit! I knew it. I knew after he said his brother was raped that’s what he wanted to do to me, but there’s no fuckin way it’s gonna happen.

“You’re gonna have ta fuckin’ kill me, cause I ain’t doin it!” Starsky shouted.

The big man quietly came from behind the chair, placing Starsky’s Beretta inside the front of his pants.

Starsky saw Flynn glance to the left and nod. Before the brunet could follow his gaze, he was grabbed from behind– a steel-like grip holding his upper arms.

“Let go of me!” Starsky struggled, but the large hands held him firm.

Flynn got up off the couch and walked toward Starsky. “I see you’ve met my friend. You can call him Rambo for reasons you’ll find out shortly. He was my brother’s best friend, and he misses him just as much as I do.”

The redhead stopped directly in front of Starsky. “It’s really a shame you couldn’t remove the towel yourself. Now I’m gonna have to remove it for you.” Flynn stepped closer, and the curly-haired man spat in his face.

In response, Rambo squeezed Starsky’s arms tighter and shook him violently.

Flynn stepped back, shocked at this turn of events, and wiped the saliva off his cheek. Then he moved closer to the seething brunet. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, snatching the towel from Starsky’s slim hips leaving the detective naked. After throwing the towel on the floor, he checked out Starsky’s genitalia.

“Mmm, I like what I see. Now let’s see how they feel.” Flynn stared directly into Starsky’s eyes as he reached down and grasped the brunet’s limp cock. The defiant, dark-haired man didn’t flinch and stared back into the redhead’s eyes.

It became a staring contest, and Flynn was determined to get a reaction from the cop, so he began to stroke Starsky’s member.

“Ya like this pig?” Flynn asked, continuing to slowly pull the brunet’s penis, seeking a reaction, but the curly-haired detective didn’t waver. He stood still with his dead stare intact.

Flynn moved to his balls, squeezing and rolling them, but there was still no reaction, so he applied more pressure to his firm, sensitive scrotum.

Starsky felt the pain but refused to give Flynn the satisfaction of seeing him in discomfort. So he endured it by gritting his teeth, and balling his fists, nails digging into his palms, making sure to keep them out of sight.

Still not seeing any visible evidence of distress, Flynn tightened his grip on the brunet’s testicles and finally got a reaction albeit a subtle one, but a reaction, nonetheless. He could feel the naked man tremble slightly and saw tears filling the deep blue eyes, but Starsky gave nothing else away.

The redhead smirked as he let go and moved away from him. “My brother told me you were a tough son of a bitch and about the way you roughed him up when you arrested him,” Flynn told him in a bitter tone.

Starsky wanted so much to grab his balls and massage the ache and soreness out of them, but Rambo still had a firm hold on his upper arms. The only thing he could do was release a small sigh of relief and blink again.

His cold cobalt eyes followed his intruder as he paced around his living room, then stopped in front of him once more. As he looked directly into the cop’s eyes, he still saw defiance, and Flynn was tired of it. He needed to wipe that look off his face, so he raised his hand and backhanded the brunet hard across the face.

The force of the blow snapped Starsky’s head to the side, and when he straightened, a trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away with his tongue, then resumed his angry gaze.

“Turn him around and let me check out his ass,” Flynn commanded.

The moment the big man released his arms to comply, Starsky knew he had to make his move. He jumped up, and threw his head back, and smashed Rambo in the nose, then elbowed him in the chest. In one quick motion, he bent over and head butted the redhead in the stomach. While both men were out of commission, Starsky made a run for the door. He knew he was buck naked, but he’d suffer the embarrassment in order to get away from these madmen.

Unfortunately, Flynn recovered too soon and caught up to the brunet before he could put his hand on the doorknob. The redhead grabbed his thick mop of curls and painfully yanked his head back. When he released his grip, he shoved Starsky aggressively to the floor.

Rambo was holding his nose as he straightened up. “The little shit broke my nose.” He went over and kicked Starsky in the face with his heavy boot. The brunet fell back, holding the side of his face, and when he sat up, he found both men had their guns aimed at him.

For the first time, Starsky noticed that the big man was brandishing his Beretta with one hand while holding his nose with the other; blood pouring from the nostrils.

Flynn stood over Starsky pointing his 38 at his head and glanced at his bleeding partner. “Go clean yourself up and get back here. I’m gonna need you.”

The two men watched as Rambo disappeared inside Starsky’s bathroom. Then the red-head looked down at the seemingly helpless man, who was looking up at him with venom in his cobalt eyes. He slowly walked around the naked man, making the detective feel uncomfortable from the intense scrutiny. Starsky drew his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, so he wouldn’t be so exposed.

Flynn crouched down, making sure he was far enough away from the obstinate cop in case he decided to lash out again.

“You ever had a man fuck you?”

Starsky just stared at him, shooting daggers from the dark blue eyes.

“I asked you a question, pig. Has a cock been in that fine ass of yours?”

After letting the question hang in the air for a moment, Starsky yelled, “FUCK YOU!”

“No, actually, it’s gonna be ‘fuck you’.”

Just then, Rambo returned with toilet paper sticking out of his nose. Flynn walked up to him and pulled them out. “Get that shit out of your nose and pick him up.”

Starsky had a sinking feeling that he knew what was in store for him and he was determined to do everything in his power to prevent it from happening. As the big man came toward him, Starsky scurried backwards.

“Don’t fuckin’ come near me, you asshole! Keep away from me!” he yelled, kicking at the burly man.

Rambo placed Starsky’s gun inside the front of his pants, then grabbed both of the brunet’s feet and dragged him back to the couch. He flipped him over and placed his boot on his back, keeping him from getting up, then glanced over at his partner.

“Are we gonna punish him for breaking my nose and spitting in your face?” the big man suggested, with hopeful dark eyes.

Flynn reached down, seized a fist full of curls and wrenched Starsky’s head up. This time the brunet cried out from the sudden pain and looked up into the man’s face with a venomous gaze.

The redhead laughed and pushed Starsky’s head back down forcefully, then stood over him, holding the gun at his head again.

“Ya know, you’re really startin to piss me off, pig. Do you want me to blow your head off, huh?”

“You’re not gonna do it,” Starsky stated, defiance intact.

“And how do you know that?”

“Cause you’re a fuckin’ coward- a big, red-headed freak, coward.” As the words escaped Starsky’s mouth, he wished he could take them back.

“I’m a coward, huh? A big, red-headed freak, huh? Well, we’ll see about that.”

Starsky swallowed hard as he watched the furious man pace back and forth, waving the 38 around.

The insulted man stood in front of the brunet again. “I agree with my big partner. You need to be taught a lesson; make you less obstinate.” The redhead walked over to the back of the couch and pulled his belt from the loops of his pants. “Bring him here,” he commanded.

Rambo grabbed Starsky by the arm and stood him up, then took him to Flynn. But the brunet wasn’t going to be taken easily.

With his free hand, Starsky seized the man’s stringy black hair in a firm grip, causing the big man to yelp in pain. In return, Rambo let go of his arm and tightly squeezed the hand holding onto his hair, making Starsky let go. After that, he quickly hoisted the cop over his shoulder—in a fireman’s carry—and brought him to Flynn.

“Lay em over the back of the couch.”

Rambo carried the kicking man to the couch. When he laid him down, Starsky immediately rolled to the floor, leaped to his feet, and delivered an uppercut to his jaw, dropping him like a big sack of shit.

Flynn ran to the cop and smashed him in the head with the butt of his gun. Starsky dropped to his knees; semi-conscious, and Flynn seized his arm and forcibly hauled him to his feet.

“Never mind. I’ll do it myself,” Flynn said, exasperated.

After absentmindedly putting the gun on the end table, the red-head deposited Starsky on the couch, with his head and torso hanging over the back. Now his naked buttocks and thighs were on full display and vulnerable.

He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a roll of duct tape.

“I’m glad I brought this. I figured he’d put up a fight,” he smirked, pulling tape off the roll with a loud tearing sound. “Get over here and help me.”

The big man got to his feet and moved to Flynn’s side. He watched as the redhead bound Starsky’s ankles, then threw the roll to him.

“Wrap his wrists,” Flynn ordered, watching his partner wrap the man’s hands, then stood back to observe the trussed up detective.

“Now he won’t be interrupting us anymore.”

After picking up his belt from where it dropped, Flynn doubled the leather and pulled it taut, causing it to snap loudly. The sound made the young detective stir, and he opened his sapphire eyes, confused as to how he got into this position on the couch. He struggled to raise himself, but his bound wrists and ankles, along with Rambo holding him down, made it difficult.

“What the fuck!” the brunet screamed. “Get this tape off me!” Starsky continued to fight, twisting his body until Flynn leaned down and whispered threateningly in his ear…

“You’re goin to be severely punished for causing us so much trouble, pig.”

Flynn put the belt in front of Starsky’s face and snapped it again. Then the redhead seductively slid the stiff leather across Starsky’s bare behind.

“Stop it! You fuckin’ freak!” Starsky continued to shout until he felt burning fire spread across both butt-cheeks, causing him to cry out in pain.

“AHH, SHIT!”

Another lick from the belt came across the detective’s naked ass, and Starsky couldn’t hold in another cry of pain. He desperately didn’t want to give these mother fuckers the satisfaction of knowing they were hurting him, but he couldn’t help it. The pain was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. It was way worse than the whippings his Ma used to give him when he was a kid. The major difference was that she couldn’t hit this hard, and she never whipped his bare-ass. She’d always let him keep on his pants or underwear.

Rambo struggled to hold the cop still as he writhed, trying to avoid the burning lashes.

“I see you’re still fighting us. I suggest you stop, or the whipping will get worse,” Flynn warned.

“Fuck you! You bastard!”

“Oh, that’ll be happening to you in good time. Now, as I promised.”

Flynn raised the belt high in the air and brought it down hard on the cop’s vulnerable buttocks again, then quickly did it again and again. He alternated from striking his buttocks to the more sensitive flesh on the back of his thighs.

The dark-haired cop continued to grapple, as powerful hands were on his upper back, holding him down. He tried not to cry out, but the pain was too great. “Ahhh! Stop! I can’t!”

Suddenly, the excruciating pain stopped, leaving a horrible burn, like someone had lit his ass on fire.

“You want me to stop? Is the pain too much?” Flynn asked facetiously.

Starsky was breathing hard. “I can’t…”

“You can’t what, pig?”

“I…I can’t. I can’t t…take anymore.”

“Is that so?” Flynn rubbed his hands over the red welts on the brunet’s battered flesh, causing him to hiss.

“Rambo, do you think he’s had enough?”

The big man took his hands off Starsky’s back and jerked his head up. He looked into the brunet’s anguished face, still seeing a slight look of defiance in the deep blue eyes that his pugnacious nature wouldn’t let him suppress.

“No. He needs more,” he responded, smiling wickedly and putting his meaty hands back on the helpless man’s back, holding him down.

“No!” Starsky screamed.

Flynn smirked, then joyfully resumed whipping his buttocks and thighs hard, causing Starsky to continuously cry out.

“Oh, God! Stop! I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya! Stop! …. Please!”

Starsky hated himself for uttering that last word. He didn’t want to be reduced to begging. Because doing so was almost as worse- for the curly-haired man- as being whipped, but he was on the verge of passing out if it continued, and at this point he wished he would.

Moving back to observe his handy work, Flynn smiled at the angry red welts, noticing that a few were bleeding. He beckoned to this partner.

“Come, take a look.”

Flynn went around to the front of the couch, leaving Starsky hanging over the back, panting and moaning.

Rambo walked close to the brunet’s tortured cheeks and thighs. After observing his partner’s handy work, he let out a whistle.

“Man, you did a good job.” He went behind and crouched down to look into the suffering man’s face. “This must hurt like a motherfucker, huh, pig?”

Starsky just groaned.

Rambo straightened up and looked at Flynn. “Ya know, some of these welts are bleeding, and we don’t want em to get infected.”

“What do you suggest?” Flynn asked, rubbing his belt on the arm of the couch to wipe off the blood, then slid it through the loops of his pants and buckled it.

The big man jogged to Starsky’s bathroom and returned with a bottle. He held it up to the redhead, who beamed. “Rubbing alcohol. That’s a great idea. You do the honors,” he said, waving his hand at the battered flesh.

“Don’t! You fuckers!” Starsky yelled, trying to twist his body away from the impending torment.

Flynn ran to hold him down. “Go ahead.”

Without hesitation, Rambo unscrewed the cap and began pouring the liquid over the tortured skin.

Starsky shrieked in agony, causing both men to laugh with delight.

***S&H***

As the two men talked about what they were going to do next, the brunet lay slumped over the couch, moaning.

“Can I fuck him now?” Rambo asked eagerly.

Flynn glanced at the whipped, naked man.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s in too bad a shape. We don’t want him passin’ out on us. Let’s wait until later, when he’ll be more recovered. This way, when you ram him, we’ll have the satisfaction of him being alert and reactive. Lay him down on the couch and take off the tape.”

Rambo picked up the tortured man and flung him over his shoulder, then laid the limp body onto his stomach, then looked up at his partner questioningly.

“You think it’s a good idea to remove the tape?”

“Yeah. Look at em. He ain’t goin nowhere. Besides, we’ll be right here to make sure he doesn’t.”

After nodding, the big man ripped the tape off Starsky’s wrists and ankles, making the brunette groan from the strong adhesive being torn from his skin.

“How long are we gonna wait?”

Flynn glanced at his watch, and it was almost 10 a.m. They had been torturing the cop for about three hours. “A few hours — just go back and sit in that stupid chair, and we’ll watch some TV.”

Rambo watched as Flynn settled on an old western, then realized he was hungry. “I’m hungry. I’m gonna see what the pig has to eat.” He went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “He ain’t got nothin’ but stale pizza, a half case of beer and two bottles of root beer,” the burly man announced, glancing back at his partner.

“Gimme a beer,” Flynn answered, as he went to sit in the chair next to the couch, making sure to glance at the semiconscious prone figure every so often.

Rambo threw the can to Flynn, then went back to turn on the oven and heat the pizza. When it was done, he took out a bottle of root beer and the pizza and returned to the living room to eat. Afterward, the big man settled down to watch the movie, he occasionally eyed the brunet. He stared at the battered mounds of Starsky’s ass and ached to push his thick cock deep inside, but unfortunately he’d have to wait.

***S&H***

On Saturday morning, Hutch arrived at the station 8 a.m.. When he sat down at his desk, he glanced at the wall clock. He knew his partner was on his way to New York by now to see his mom. He smiled at the thought, then frowned as he glanced down at the stack of folders in front of him. After sighing loudly, he grabbed the top one, opened it and began the hours of work that lay before him.

After five hours, the blond pushed back his chair and pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He managed to get through most of the folders with only one bathroom break and grabbing a snack from the vending machine. He looked over the candy bars and thought fondly of his junk food addicted partner. In his honor, he decided to choose a Butternut candy bar- one of Starsky’s favorites.

He looked up at the clock and saw that it was near 2 p.m. Starsky should have landed at J.F.K. at 1 p.m.- 4 p.m. Eastern Time. He wondered why he hadn’t heard from him. He told him to call when he got there, but knowing his partner well, he probably forgot. He picked up the receiver and punched the numbers for Starsky’s mom’s. After a few rings, the sweet voice of Lorraine Starsky came on the phone.

“Hello.”

“Hello Lorraine. It’s Ken.”

“Ken, how are you?”

“I’m fine, and you?”

“I’m well, but I’m a bit worried. Davey hasn’t arrived yet. He told me his flight was landing at 4 p.m., and he’d be here around 4:30. Now it’s after 5 and he’s not here.”

“I wouldn’t worry, Lorraine, his flight was probably delayed. I’m sure he’ll be there soon.”

“I hope so. If you hear from him will you please let me know?”

“Of course. Now try not to worry, okay?”

“I’ll try Ken. Bye.”

“Bye Lorraine.”

Hutch hung up the phone and sat with a deep crease appearing between his brows. If Starsky’s flight was delayed, why didn’t he call me? He should have at least called his mother so she wouldn’t worry. He lifted the receiver again and punched in his partner’s number.

***S&H***

Starsky had passed out momentarily from the pain. When he came to, he heard the sound of the TV. He didn’t want them to know he was awake so they could start torturing him again or, worse—rape him—so he kept as still as possible. Suddenly he heard the TV turn off and someone approaching and his heart began to race as panic set in.

Two hours had passed, and Flynn decided it was time to get the cop up and continue the fun. Besides, he tired of his partner asking him how much longer—every ten minutes. The detective hadn’t stirred the entire time, and Flynn wondered if he had fallen asleep or passed out. He stared down at the beaten man.

“Wake up!” he shouted. No movement, so he swatted him hard on his abused butt-cheek. “I said, WAKE UP!”

The dark-haired man startled and yelped in pain, then lifted his head toward his torturer.

Flynn crouched down next to him. “Hey pig. I hope you had a nice rest, because it’s time to get up and keep the party goin’.”

Starsky groaned and turned his face back toward the couch, hoping by not looking at him he’d go away, but that wouldn’t be the case. The brunet was violently pulled to his feet by the burly man.

“Where do ya want em?” Rambo asked, gripping Starsky by his upper arm.

“That’s up to you. Where would you be most comfortable?”

Rambo looked around the living room for a good place to rape the man he was holding. He decided to bend him over the back of the couch, with his head facing the living room this time. As he half walked half dragged the injured man to the area, the brunet became more alert and began to struggle. The sudden burst of energy from the cop surprised the large man and he was caught off guard.

Starsky shoved him away and snatched the 38 from the end table. “I’m gonna blow your fuckin’ heads off, you fuckin’ bastards!” Starsky aimed the gun at the two intruders, nervously moving it from one to the other. His buttocks and thighs were throbbing, but he had to ignore his agony if he was going to prevent what was about to happen to him.

Flynn held up his hands in surrender, but Rambo pulled the Beretta and pointed at Starsky. Immediately, the brunet grabbed Flynn by the arm and pressed the 38 at this temple. “Put it down or I’ll blow his head off.”

“Take it easy. Take it easy,” the redhead said, holding up his hands, then glanced at his partner. “Put down the gun, Rambo. We don’t want anyone to get killed.”

The burly man obeyed, placing the gun on the coffee table and raised his hands.

Suddenly, the wall phone in Starsky’s kitchen rang, and the brunet momentarily took his eyes off the man to look in the direction.

Rambo rushed him, and in the detective’s battered, weakened state, he easily wrestled the gun from him. Then, he put a powerful arm around his neck and stuck the cold, hard barrel into his ribs.

As the phone rang a second time, all three men stared at it. With panic in his eyes, Flynn looked at Starsky. “Who the fuck could that be?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, with fear rising in his belly that it might be Hutch.

Flynn remembered his brother talking about this guy having a partner. This could be him. If the pig didn’t answer, he might decide to come over and cause trouble. The phone rang a third time, and the redhead told Rambo to release Starsky, then Flynn grabbed the brunet’s arm and pulled him toward the wall phone. He reached for the 38 that Rambo snatched from Starsky and aimed the barrel at the dark-haired man’s temple.

“Answer it, and if you let on what’s happen’ here, I’ll put a bullet in your brain. Do you understand?”

Starsky didn’t answer.

Flynn cocked the gun. “Do you understand me, pig?”

“Yeah. I understand.”

He hadn’t called Hutch after arriving at his mother’s, so automatically he’d be calling to find out what happened. He desperately wanted Hutch to come and end this nightmare, but he didn’t want his bestfriend to get hurt or possibly killed by these lunatics, so he quickly tried to come up with an explanation for why he was still home.

The brunet hesitated and felt Flynn press the barrel against his skull. “Answer it.”

The pain from the whipping was unbearable, and Starsky fought to remain standing. He leaned a hand on the table as he slowly reached up and took the receiver off the wall mount.

“Hello.”

“Starsk, whaddaya still doin home?”

“Um…I missed my flight.”

“Then why didn’t you call me or your mom? She’s really worried about you.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I…ah…fell asleep right after I got another one.”

Hutch listened to his partner’s voice. “Starsk, are you okay?”

“Yeah. I got another flight for later. I’ll call Ma and tell her.”

There was an awkward silence, then Starsky glanced at Flynn, who was mouthing for him to hang up.

“Hutch, I gotta go.”

“Okay. What time is your flight?…Starsk?”

The blond listened to a dial tone before placing the receiver back on its cradle. A crease appeared again between the handsome detective’s brows. There was definitely something wrong.

***S&H***

Dobey had come in to finish up some paperwork, since Edith and the kids were visiting her mother.

Hutch needed to talk to him about his partner, so he knocked on the door.

“Come in,” the rotund Black man said, keeping his eyes on the report he was reading.

Hutch entered and stood in front of Dobey’s desk. “Captain, something’s wrong. Starsky didn’t make it to his mom’s this afternoon, and when I called him, he was still home and didn’t sound right.”

Dobey looked up at his worried detective. “What do you mean—didn’t sound right?”

“He didn’t sound like himself, Cap’. It was like he was making up what he was saying, then he just hung up before our conversation ended.”

“Do you want to check it out?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Let me know what’s going on.”

“Will do, Captain.” Hutch turned on his heels and bolted for the door. He raced to his LTD and headed toward his partner’s home.

***S&H***

“You did good pig,” Flynn told the curly-haired man. “Now you’re gonna be rewarded or maybe it’s my partner who’ll be rewarded,” he sneered, pushing the gun in his pants, and glancing at Rambo.

“Here take em.” Flynn shoved Starsky toward the big man and he grasped the cop’s arm and tugged him back into the living room behind the couch.

No matter how much agony Starsky was in he needed to keep fighting. With his free hand, the brunet took a swing at the big man and his wrist was gripped by the meaty hand. Rambo spun the cop around, bent him over and held both of his hands at the small of his back, painfully wrenched them up. While holding his hands in place, he guided Starsky behind the couch and pushed him over the back. The big man thought about restraining him again, but with his arms held like this, he knew the brunet wouldn’t be able to move very much without causing himself great pain.

Rambo placed the Beretta on the floor, then pressed Starsky’s stomach into the top of the couch. While keeping a strong hold on the cop’s folded wrists, he began to open his fly with his free hand.

“No. Don’t. Get away from me.” Starsky no longer had the energy to fight or say those words with conviction. The whipping and other physical assaults to his body had left the detective weak. He wanted to desperately keep fighting to prevent this from happening, but he had no strength to continue.

He heard Rambo’s zipper being pulled down, then the unmistakable fapping sound as the big man jerked off to make himself hard.

After kicking his legs apart, Rambo abruptly inserted a thick finger inside Starsky’s anus, causing him to groan. The burly man was surprised to find that he wasn’t as tight as he thought he should be.

“Hey Flynn. Guess what?”

Flynn was enjoying the spectacle from the armchair. “What?”

“This pig ain’t no virgin. My finger went in too easy,” Rambo told him, pushing another finger in Starsky’s ass. “I was hopin’ to pop his cherry,” he stated disappointingly.

“Oh really?” Flynn got up and knelt beside Starsky’s head.

“So you’ve had a dick in your ass before. Do you take it up the ass a lot? Are you a slut, pig?”

The brunet couldn’t answer if he wanted to. The horrible burn and pain from this sick fuck’s fingers thrusting inside him, was all consuming.

After not getting any answer the redhead got up. “It don’t matter. I’m sure my partner is gonna give it to you good and make it hurt like you were a virgin again. After all, he ain’t got the name Rambo for nothin.”

“I wanna see how many fingers I can get in here.” The burly man added a third finger, then a fourth. Stretching Starsky’s anus beyond its limit causing him to groan in agony.

“Stop tryin to fist him. You’ll make his hole too big, and he won’t be in as much pain when you fuck him.”

Rambo pulled out his fingers and smiled as the brunet cried out again.

Flynn went around to the back of the couch to watch his partner sodomize the cop like his brother was, but he knew this was nothing like what his brother went through. He was raped repeatedly, so he had to make sure that the pig’s suffering wouldn’t end too quickly.

“Whaddaya waitin for? Fuck em already,” the anxious redhead ordered.

Rambo released Starsky’s arms and tightly grabbed the brunet’s narrow hips with both hands.

Starsky’s arms fell on the cushion, and he braced himself on his palms, with his head hanging down. Soon he felt the broad tip of Rambo’s cock press his tight opening.

“Stop you fuckin; asshole! I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya! You’re a dead man!”

No matter if his anus was stretched, Starsky knew this was going to really hurt. All the shouting and pleading in the world wasn’t going to stop this from happening, so he took in a deep breath and tried not to tense up. He needed to relax his sphincter and open up. The brunet remembered how much it hurt when the blond first penetrated him. The only thing was that Hutch was gentle and used lube and this fucker wasn’t. He tried to make one last attempt to stop him.

“Rambo, you don’t wanna do this,” the brunet implored in a calmer tone, trying to turn his head back to make eye contact with the big man. “You know I’m a cop, and assaulting a cop will put you in prison for a long time.”

“No, it won’t. I’ll get one year max, and I can do that standin’ on my head. Now, shut the fuck up, so I can fuck your sweet ass.”

Starsky felt the thick cock plunge deep inside him with one thrust. He tried desperately to relax, but as soon as he felt the head at his entrance, the dark-haired man tensed up and panicked. The pain was excruciating, and the brunet cried out as the girthy phallus pushed through the ring of muscle.

“Now the fun begins,” Rambo announced, as he began to ram into the cop harder and harder.

The pounding was inflicting more pain to Starsky’s already bruised buttocks and thighs as Rambo’s body made contact with every forward thrust. All the brunet could do was lay there and take it, praying it would be over soon.

Flynn wasn’t happy with the position of the brunet’s head. He couldn’t see his face with his head hanging down, and he needed to see it, to see his pain, so he went over to Starsky and roughly pulled his head up. He immediately saw rage in the cobalt eyes that quickly turned to despair as the handsome features contorted into a grimace of sheer agony.

“He’s rapin’ ya real good, huh, pig? Fuckin’ your ass hard and you have to take it just like my brother had to, but he had to take it many, many times- so don’t worry, this ain’t gonna end any time soon,” the redhead assured, with an evil grin.

He was pleased with what he saw. The cop was suffering, and it brought joy to his heart. He dropped the cop’s head back down, then walked to the back of the couch to watch the assault up close.

Rambo was living up to his name as he continued to ram into the helpless detective. The only sounds that could be heard throughout the room were the big man’s panting and grunting, and the man in front of him groaning and whimpering.

The redhead found himself getting hard, so he placed his 38 near his feet on the floor, and just as he was about to release his cock, he thought of something better. He moved back in front of the couch, and took his dick out, then grabbed a fist full of the brunet’s sweat dampened curls, bringing his head up again.

“You’re gonna suck my dick pig and so help me, if I feel any teeth, I’m gonna have Rambo shove something other than his cock up your ass.”

After the threat, Flynn placed the head of his penis at Starsky’s mouth, saying, “Open up.”

The brunet refused. Throughout the assault, Starsky was fighting back the urge to vomit. Bile would be on the verge of rising from his gut and out of his mouth. And with his head hanging down and his stomach being pressed against the couch, the brunet knew he’d be puking any minute. Now the idea that he was being forced to suck this asshole’s dick would surely make it happen, and he knew if he threw up while sucking him off, God only knows what the repercussions would be. Starsky really didn’t want to find out, so when the dick was pressed against his lips, he kept them closed tightly; like a child who didn’t want to take his medicine.

The redhead was about to squeeze the cop’s nostrils forcing his mouth open when a knock came at the front door. All three men froze and looked toward it.

Starsky knew it was Hutch. He was relieved and scared to death at the same time. He knew these men were crazed with vengeance and hate. Who knew what they would do to Hutch to make the brunet suffer more.

“Hey Starsk? Are you home?”

“Is that your fuckin’ partner?” Flynn asked as he quickly stuffed himself back into his pants, picked up his gun, then bolted to the door readying himself to attack.

Rambo had momentarily stopped thrusting into Starsky to focus on what was happening and soon a key could be heard in the lock and Flynn moved to the side of the door out of sight.

When the door started to open, Starsky yelled, “HUTCH HE HAS A GUN!”

With Python in hand, Hutch burst through the door, dropped and rolled onto on his feet, in a crouching position. When the blond caught sight of his lover lying across the back of the couch, naked with a large man behind him—his pale blue eyes grew wide in horror.

As soon as Hutch entered, the large man resumed thrusting hard into the dark-haired detective. It was obvious his partner was being raped, and he locked eyes with the brunet, seeing fear and pain in the deep blue orbs that broke his heart and unleashed his rage. Hutch saw Starsky’s head slump back down, indicating to him that his lover had given up.

Hutch moved closer to the couch, aiming at the big man. “Stop what you’re doing and get away from him. NOW!”

Rambo just ignored the blond cop and continued to ram into his partner.

“If you don’t stop, I’m gonna blow your head off!” Hutch cocked the Python and stood over the big man, pointing the barrel at his head, but he still wasn’t stopping.

Starsky raised his head just in time to see Flynn sneaking up behind his partner. “H…Hutch…b…behind you,” he told him weakly.

For a split second, Hutch gave Starsky a quizzical look, and before the blond could turn around he felt the cold barrel of a gun being pressed against his temple.

“Drop the gun, pig.”

Hutch froze and glanced down at Starsky, who was looking at him with hopelessness in his deep blue eyes.

“I said drop the fuckin’ gun or I’m gonna blow your partner away.” Flynn moved the gun off Hutch and pointed it at Starsky’s head. He knew that threatening to kill his partner would make Hutch comply.

Hutch dropped the gun and held up his hands.

The redhead snatched it up, then roughly shoved the blond forward and Hutch quickly turned to face the man who seemed be in charge.

Flynn turned the discarded gun over in his hand. “Now this is a gun. I think I’ll use it.” He pushed his 38 inside his jacket pocket and aimed Hutch’s weapon at him.

Hutch glanced at his partner, and the big man was still thrusting mercilessly into him at a fever pitch, grunting. In between each grunt, Hutch heard the sound of his lover’s groans of pain.

Flynn followed Hutch’s gaze. “He’s gettin it good, ain’t he?”

“Stop this! Please stop this!” Hutch pleaded for the man to stop defiling and abusing his partner, best friend, and lover.

“Oh that’s not gonna happen, Blondie. He’s too far gone to stop now, but I believe he’s almost done.”

Both men observed the burly man as he let out a loud roar and threw his head back, announcing the finality of his foul deed.

“See, I told ya,” the redhead said cheerfully.

Hutch watched as the man stepped back and delivered a hard swat to Starsky’s butt-cheek causing the brunet to scream in pain. He stayed hanging limply over the couch as if he passed out, and Hutch hoped that he had.

Rambo rearranged his clothes and bent down to retrieve the gun from the floor, then went over to stand next to Flynn.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Flynn asked, looking up at the sated big man, then over at the tortured one.

“Yeah. He was a nice piece of ass,” Rambo admitted with elation.

“That’s good to hear, now it’ll be his partner’s turn.”

Hutch blinked, then frowned. “W…what?”

“It’s your turn to fuck him. Go ahead, he’s waiting for you,” Flynn glanced over at the brunet who was looking at them.

“Are you outta your mind? I’m doin’ no such thing,” Hutch told him, adamantly.

“Oh yes you are, or your brains are gonna be all over the room,” Flynn said, cocking the gun. “Now move closer to the couch.”

Hutch’s light blue eyes darted around the room nervously, not knowing what to do. He looked from the big man who just raped his partner, to the redhead holding the gun on him, then at Starsky. The look of despair in the blue eyes was unbearable.

“I said MOVE!” Flynn yelled and aggressively propelled the blond toward the couch, then stepped back. “Go on, get on with it.”

“It’s okay, Hutch.” Starsky’s voice was barely above a whisper and hoarse from his cries of pain.

Hutch crouched down in front of his lover. He wanted so badly to take him in his arms and hold him. Soothe him and stop his suffering, but instead he reached out and caressed the sweat, damp curls and tear-stained face.

“Oh, God Starsk. Do you know what he’s asking me to do to you?”

“Yeah, and it’ll be okay.”

“No. I can’t Starsk. I can’t.” Hutch closed his eyes as he shook his head.

“If you don’t, he’s gonna kill you.”

“What’s the holdup, Blondie?” Flynn asked impatiently.

Hutch stood up, with fire in the pale blue eyes. “Look at him! He can’t take anymore!”

“He can and he will. You’re gonna see to that.” After a pause, Flynn asked, “Do I look familiar to you, pig?”

Hutch squinted as he tried to search his memory for all the redheads he’d encountered. After thinking about it, he did remember one. He and Starsky busted a group of young thugs and one had a mop of red-hair. It was about four months ago and they sent the redhead to prison for a long time.

“Flynn. It’s Flynn, isn’t it? Yeah, I remember you. You held up a liquor store at gunpoint, then tried to kill my partner.” The blond recalled the event with venom in his voice.

“It wasn’t me, pig. It was my twin brother.”

Hutch’s eyes widened with astonishment. “So, what is this? Revenge?”

“You’re a genius.”

“But why do this to him? He arrested your brother- he didn’t rape him.” Hutch was desperately trying to reason with this vengeful madman.

“No, he didn’t rape him, but a lot of the guys in there did—almost every fucking day he was in there. If it wasn’t for your partner busting him, he would never had been in prison, and he wouldn’t be dead.”

Hutch gave the redhead another puzzled look. “Dead?”

“Yeah pig. My brother couldn’t take one more day of it, so he killed himself.”

The crease between the blond’s brows deepened as he tried to wrap his mind around the predicament he and his partner were in.

My God, they want to force me to rape my best friend, but is it really rape if we’ve already had sex? But still, under these circumstances and in his condition, it would be an unwanted sexual act. They don’t know about our relationship, so they see it as I’m raping him. And after I’ve done it, they’re probably going to kill him or kill me first and have him watch, then kill him.

Hutch sighed and glanced at his partner again. Their silent communication was strong as Starsky gave his partner a small smile and a slight nod. This told him it was okay for him to do whatever he needed to do to keep the both of them alive.

The blond glared at the gunman, then slowly walked behind the couch, and gasped at the horrific condition his lover was in.

“Oh my God Starsk. What have they done to you?”

The brunet’s buttocks and thighs were a bloody mess and there was blood mixed with semen oozing from his rectum and running between his legs. It was apparent that they not only raped him, but violently beat him with something, too.

“Starsk, they ripped you up. I can’t do this. I just can’t.” Hutch was on the verge of sobbing. He knew his best-friend was in agony and there was no way he was going to hurt him any further.

“H…Hutch,” he whispered, lifting his head, and looking back to meet his friend’s eyes.

The blond leaned down to Starsky’s mouth. “Yeah babe?”

“If you don’t, they’re gonna kill you. They’ll probably kill me too, but I don’t think they’re done with me yet. They will kill you just to make me suffer more than I ready have.”

“But Starsk, they hurt you bad. How can I….”

“You can, babe. I know you can.”

Hutch shook his head and looked away.

“Hey, look at me.”

The blond met the pained, deep blue eyes again.

“Remember when you first made love to me?”

“Yeah,” Hutch answered in a small voice.

“You were so gentle with me, remember? You can do that again.”

“Starsk, Dobey knows I came here looking for you,” he whispered. “We were concerned when you never showed up at your mother’s. If he doesn’t hear from me, I’m sure he’ll call a black and white to come and check. I just have to stall.”

Suddenly, the wall phone rang, and everyone looked towards the kitchen.

The red-head became enraged. “Who the fuck is that now?” he asked, looking at Starsky, who had already dropped his head back down.

“Well, we’re not gonna answer this time. I’m tired of all these interruptions.”

After the third ring it stopped, and Flynn snatched the receiver, throwing it to the floor, then turned to Hutch.

“That’s enough whispering and stalling, pig. You’re gonna fuck your partner now or you and him are gonna die.” Flynn aimed his gun at Hutch, then motioned for the big man to aim his at Starsky.

“Okay, okay,” Hutch said, holding up his hands. “But I need to go to the bathroom first.” The blond was about to turn toward Starsky’s bathroom when he heard the gun cock.

“I don’t think so pig.”

Hutch turned back with his hands in the air. “If you want me to do this, I’m gonna have to pee first.”

Flynn narrowed his eyes at him. “Okay go, but you’d better be back here before I count to ten or when you do come out, curly here is gonna have a bullet in his head.”

“Can you make that fifteen? I have digestive issues,” he admitted, patting his stomach.

“Fine, but you’d better get back here before I get to fifteen, or your partner is gonna have a more serious issue.”

Flynn pointed his gun at Starsky and started counting.

Hutch quickly locked eyes with his partner before running into the bathroom and shutting the door. He stood running his hands through sweat dampened golden locks, anxiously hoping he’d see something that could help them. He wished his partner had gotten that bathroom phone they talked about.

He could hear Flynn counting quickly, and he was already up to ten. He was running out of time. Hutch wasn’t sure if he would actually kill Starsky, since he seemed very anxious to have the blond fuck him, but he couldn’t take that chance. He had a feeling that was Dobey calling and hoped he would be worried enough to send someone out. At least he could stall for fifteen minutes. The blond flushed the toilet and hurriedly exited the bathroom.

“Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. You just made it, pig.” Flynn kept Hutch’s Python at Starsky’s head. “Now, no more stallin’. FUCK EM NOW!”

Flynn wasn’t playing around anymore. Hutch couldn’t continue to stall. He moved back behind his tortured partner. As he looked down at the battered fresh again Hutch almost threw up, but he knew it would be perceived as stalling, so he fought back the urge. After swallowing hard, he blew out a breath, then unbuckled his belt. Maybe I could pretend to penetrate him, since I’m standing close behind him out of view, he thought. But just then, the big man walked behind the couch and stood next to him.

The blond looked up at the burly man with wide blue eyes. “Why are you standing here?”

“Cause I wanna watch dumb-ass,” Rambo replied simply.

Hutch saw the lecherous look in the man’s eyes and could tell he was a degenerate low life, who got off on seeing someone suffer as well as cause it. He looked from the man to Flynn, then to Starsky, who had lowered his head waiting for his lover to enter him. Now there was no way he could fake it. He had to fuck his abused lover.

He let out a deep breath, then slowly unzipped his fly and opened his pants. Hutch didn’t want the fabric from his cords to rub against Starsky’s tortured skin, so he let them fall on top of his shoes. After that, he pushed down his underwear and looked sideways at the big man, who was staring at his cock with large eyes.

“Whoa, you should see what the blond pig has in store for his partner.”

“I don’t care. Just get on with it,” Flynn barked.

Nervously, the blond pumped his limp organ, trying to make himself erect, but he didn’t want to get too hard. A full erection would definitely hurt his partner, especially without using lube, so he made himself semi-hard, or at least tried to. The pressure and the big asshole watching him were making it difficult, but he knew if he didn’t, the consequences would be dire. Hutch stroked his organ vigorously, hoping his erection won’t take too long to arrive.

“Come on Blondie. What’s the problem? You can’t get it up for your partner? Ya got that big dick, and you don’t know what to do with it?” Rambo teased, letting out a belly laugh.

Starsky could hear his lover struggling to get it up. “Babe, you can do it. Just relax, close your eyes, and picture us.”

Hutch did it. Shutting his cerulean eyes, he conjured up an image of the two of them lying naked in bed on a crisp white linen sheet. There was a warm breeze blowing through French doors leading out to a white sand beach. Starsky was on his belly with his legs spread wide and he crawled between them. He licked and nipped the brunet’s ample butt-cheeks, then ran his tongue along the narrow canal between the firm globes. He stopped at the puckered entrance and pushed his warm, wet taste organ inside. This elicited a soft moan from the man beneath him as his tongue sank deeper inside. His cock was hard and eager to penetrate the awaiting firm mounds before him.

“Hey Blondie.”

Hutch was lost in his fantasy. His surroundings disappeared, and only he and Starsky existed. He was making sweet love to his dark-haired lover, then suddenly reality came crashing back.

“PIG!” the redhead roared, startling Hutch back to their horrific situation. Flynn waited for Hutch to look at him before continuing, “Wake the fuck up and get busy!”

Luckily, the fantasy actually worked. Hutch was erect. There was a part of him that was relieved and happy, but then he remembered why he needed to be. He glanced down at his lover’s ass… his once beautiful, now marred ass. It made him physically ill, having to do this to him knowing how much abuse he’d already taken and how much damage there must be already.

“Okay, I’m tired of this shit.” The redhead rushed over to Hutch and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him away from Starsky. “Rambo, have at him again.”

It was difficult for Hutch to walk with his pants and underwear around his ankles and his hard cock bobbing. “No! Please! I’m ready! I promise! I’m ready!” Hutch yelled, pleading as he continued to struggle to move back to his partner.

The blond knew his buddy couldn’t take another round with that big fucker. He had to make Flynn believe that he was ready with no more stalling.

“Please,” he said quieter.

Flynn looked into the imploring blue eyes of the blond man. He was looking forward to seeing him fuck his partner, so the red-head gave him one more chance. Glancing at his burly partner, he saw how eager he was to fuck the brunette again. He had already dropped his pants and was jerking off.

“Stop Rambo. I’m gonna give the blond another chance, but if he fails again, you be ready to take over.”

The big man nodded reluctantly, pulled his pants up, and remained next to Starsky.

Flynn pushed Hutch back behind Starsky and stayed there to watch this time.

By the grace of God, Hutch didn’t lose his erection. Once again, he took a deep breath and placed the head of his cock at his lover’s anus. “I’m so sorry buddy,” he whispered, glared at Flynn, then slowly pushed the tip inside and heard the brunet groan.

“Take it easy. Just relax and open up for me. I’m gonna go slow, okay,” Hutch said softly. As horrible as it was, it was good that Starsky’s rectum was full of blood and semen. It would act as a lubricant, helping him ease in without too much discomfort, but as Hutch continued to slide more of his cock inside, he still heard his lover groan.

“I don’t think so, Blondie.” Flynn said, hearing Hutch’s promise to the dark-haired man. “You’re gonna give it to him hard, just like my big partner did, and if you don’t, I’ll have him take your place and show you how it’s done.”

Jesus, how am I gonna do this to him? How am I going to intentionally hurt my friend like this? It’ll kill me to hear him cry out in pain and know that I’m the cause of it. Please God…help me…help us.

Hutch couldn’t remember the last time he prayed, but if he was going to, this was the perfect time to do it. He just hoped that his prayers would be heard. He eased his cock all the way in to the base, causing Starsky to whimper.

Suddenly, they heard a knock at the front door.

 

 

Chapter Three

“Huuutch!”

The blond quickly rushed to the bedroom door and opened it. “Hey, you’re up. How ya feelin’?” he asked, sitting on the side of the bed.

“Where were ya?”

“I was making a few calls. I told you, remember?”

“Yeah, I think so.” The brunet raised his cobalt eyes as he tried to remember his partner saying that, but his mind was still foggy from the drug.

“How ya doin’, babe?” Hutch asked, leaning down to give his lover a tender kiss on the lips.

“Okay. I don’t feel a lot of pain anymore, but I’m really thirsty.”

“I’m glad you’re not in a lot of pain. I’ll get you a glass of water. Be right back.” Hutch jogged to the kitchen, took a glass from the cabinet, and filled it with water from the cooler. When he returned to the bedroom, Starsky was trying to raise himself.

“Whoa, hold on—let me help you.” The blond placed the glass on the nightstand and helped his partner raise his torso.

When Starsky had propped himself on one elbow, Hutch handed him the glass, and he gulped it. “Can I have some more?” he asked, handing it back.

Hutch took the glass, filled it again, and gave it to him. Starsky drank it down, then gave the empty glass back to his partner. “I guess I was really thirsty,” he admitted with a crooked smile.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Hutch grinned, then sat back down on the bed.

“Is Sammie still here?” Starsky asked.

“No, she left a while ago.”

“What did she do to me?” Starsky felt something on his buttocks and thighs.

“She cleaned the wounds and applied antibiotic ointment, then covered them with gauze.”

“Oh, that’s what I’m feeling, huh?”

“Yep.”

The brunet paused, assessing his body. “Did she put anything in my butt?”

“You have some ointment that will heal any tears as well as help with the pain. Are you in any pain right now?”

“No. Who put it in there?”

“I did, with my finger.”

“You did it?”

“Yeah, she told me what to do.”

“Was she there when you were doin’ it?”

“Yes Starsk. Where do you think she was telling me? The living room?” Hutch smiled.

“How often do you need to put it in?”

Hutch glanced at the nightstand clock. “Once a day, and after you go number two.”

“How long will the gauze have to stay on me?”

“Sammie said if the wounds are still bleeding, they’ll need to be kept covered.”

“Can I take a shower?”

“Yes, when it’s time to change it, then afterward I’ll put on more antibiotics and cover it again.”

Starsky thought about everything his friend had just told him. “You said you were makin’ calls. Who d’ya call?”

Hutch told him already, but his partner’s memory was still foggy. “Well, first, your mom. And all I said was that you’d call her once you’ve gotten another flight, but it might be a while before you’ll be able to get the time off.”

“Who else?”

“Dobey.”

“Whaddaya tell him?”

I told him that you had been attacked and beaten in your apartment. And that I’d give him more details at the office, in private. I also told him that because of its sensitive nature, you couldn’t be taken to the hospital, so I was taking care of you.”

“Did you talk to Bernie?”

“Yes. We’ve decided that in his official report, he’d leave you out of it. And just say that when he came to do a welfare check, he came upon two intruders who had broken into your apartment while you were away. I was there checking on you, and he saw men holding me at gunpoint. We exchanged shots, which resulted in the two intruders being killed.”

“Ya think Dobey’s gonna sign off on that?” the brunet asked warily.

“I’m sure he will. He wants to protect his men. Remember how he kept it a secret when I was hooked on heroin?”

Starsky nodded, then made an uncomfortable face. “Um… Hutch, I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Number one or number two?”

“I think one, but you think I can actually do number two, considering?”

“Sure, you can, and if you can’t, Sammie gave me a prescription for a stool softener.”

The brunet made a face. “Hopefully, I won’t need it. Can ya help me up, please?”

After turning him on his side, Hutch put his hands under Starsky’s arms and lifted him to a standing position. He tried to keep him from bearing weight on his buttocks and thighs. Starsky swung an arm around Hutch’s neck, and the blond plodded him into the bathroom. He stood him in front of the toilet, and Starsky braced one hand against the wall for support while the other grasped his cock.

“I think I’m okay,” Starsky stated.

The blond stayed beside his lover to make sure he didn’t fall.

“Hutch, I got this. You can go, and I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Starsk, I’m staying right here. I’m not gonna risk you falling.”

The brunet looked into the unwavering face of his lover. “Fine,” he said, not wanting to argue with his mother hen of a partner.

He relieved himself, and when he was done, the blond flushed the toilet and helped him to the sink to wash his hands.

As Starsky turned away from the sink, he felt light-headed and sagged against the big blond.

“Take it easy, Starsk. Let’s get you back to bed.” Hutch walked him back to the bedroom and laid him on his stomach. Luckily, the taped gauze covering his wounds managed to stay in place.

The activity seemed to have exhausted the brunet, and he dropped his head back on the pillow, shutting his eyes.

“You okay, babe?” Hutch asked, looking down at his lover with concern.

“Yeah, that just took a lot out of me.”

“Are you in any pain?”

“A little.”

“I can give you some Tylenol.”

“Okay.”

The blond went into the bathroom and brought back the bottle of pain reliever. He handed two pills to Starsky, then ran to fill the glass with water again. Hutch handed the glass to him and watched him throw the pills in his mouth, then drink its contents.

“Can I get you anything else, babe?” Hutch asked, taking the empty glass from him.

Starsky turned his head toward the big blond. “Yeah. Can you get me something to eat? I’m hungry.”

It just occurred to Hutch that his partner should be starving. The brunet’s usually hungry all the time, but who knows when was the last time he ate anything.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Starsky thought about it. He remembered going into the kitchen to make coffee. Then all the shit went down. “I haven’t.”

“Starsk, I’m sorry. What can I get ya?”

“Whatever’s easy for you to make.”

“Babe, I can make anything you want. I can even go out and get you something. How ‘bout a burrito from that place you like?”

“No, that’s okay. Whatever you can find in there is fine. There should be some leftover pizza.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Hutch looked in the fridge, and there wasn’t anything there except a few cans of beer and one bottle of root beer. The blond grabbed the bread off the counter, inspected it, and discovered mold. After opening the cabinets and still not seeing anything edible, he went back to the bedroom to give his partner the bad news.

“Starsk, I don’t see any pizza, and you don’t have anything else. I have to go to the grocery store and pick up a few things. While I’m there, I’ll fill the prescriptions Sammie gave me,” Hutch said as he arrived back in the bedroom.

“Shit! One of those fucks must have eaten it.” The brunet looked up at his partner with sad puppy eyes. “But Hutch, I’m really hungry right now.”

The blond took one more look around the apartment and found some peanuts in a bowl on the coffee table. He brought them to Starsky.

“Here Starsk. This was all I could find, but I’ll try to hurry back with something.”

The brunet took the bowl and poured the contents into his mouth. After chewing a mouth full of legumes, he looked at Hutch.

“Can you put on the TV?”

Hutch glanced back at the TV, which was sitting on a room divider shelf at the foot of his bed. He wondered how he would be able to see it comfortably from his position on the bed.

“Starsk, are you gonna be able to see it?”

Starsky twisted his head toward the set and moved the pillow under it. “Yeah, I can see it.”

“Okay. What channel?” Hutch started switching channels.

“Don’t care.” He shrugged.

The blond turned to a channel where the movie was just starting. It was a Bela Lugosi movie called “Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla.” This was perfect. He knew Starsky loved his movies.

“Hey, Gordo. You never told me you met Bela Lugosi while you were in Brooklyn.” Hutch joked, then glanced back to see the reaction from the man lying on the bed. But there weren’t any. Starsky looked miserable and didn’t react to Hutch’s joke or the movie. He just stared at the screen. The blond kept his eyes on him, and eventually, the curly-haired man glanced up with a slight smile and sad, deep blue eyes, then his eyes went back to the screen.

Hutch suspected his dark mood was due to a lack of food. Starsky was always in a bad mood when he was hungry. He hoped it was that and not because he was falling into depression. God knows he wouldn’t blame him after what he’s been through, but he didn’t want that for his friend.

“Starsk, I promise I’ll hurry back with some food, and please don’t try to get out of bed until I get back, okay?”

Once again, cobalt eyes met sky-blue ones, and all the brunet did was nod with a small smile, lifting the corners of his mouth. Hutch smiled back and dashed out of the apartment.

After about forty-five minutes, Hutch returned with two full bags in each arm. He got the door open and shut it with his foot. Then he struggled to the kitchen and deposited the bags on the table.

“Hey, Starsk! I’m back!” He called out, taking items from the bags and setting them down. The first thing he took out was the brunet’s burrito. He quickly laid it on a plate and took it to the bedroom.

“Starsk, I have your…” He paused in the doorway, seeing that Starsky had fallen asleep.

Hutch put the plate on the bed and quietly sat next to the brunet, caressing the soft curls. “Starsk,” he whispered, and the long lashes fluttered open. “Hey, buddy,” Hutch said, grabbing the plate. “I gotcha a burrito.” He held it in front of the dark-haired man’s face.

Starsky lifted his head, looked at it, then put it back down on the pillow. “I’m not hungry,” he uttered in a low, melancholy voice.

The blond looked at his friend with sorrowful, pale blue eyes. It’s happened. Starsky had fallen into a deep depression. Hutch berated himself for not realizing his lover would have been hungry. He laid the plate back on the bed and leaned closer to him.

“Come on, babe,” he said, gently rubbing circles on the brunet’s back. “You said you were hungry, and I know you are. It’s your favorite.” He put the plate back in front of the man. “Come on. Eat. Please.”

The beseeching word seemed to have reached the brunet, and he opened his eyes again. He raised up on his elbow and locked eyes with the blond, seeing pleading in the blue depths, and then he glanced at the burrito.

Hutch opened the foil wrap and held it out to him, but Starsky only stared at it.

“Come on, Starsk. You need to eat. It’ll make you feel better,” the blond continued to urge.

Starsky looked at his partner again. The deep blue eyes held an expression as if to say, ‘feel better… I don’t think food is gonna do that.’

The blond read the expression in his friend’s eyes and regretted those words. He silently communicated his remorse. And once the brunet saw the pain on his partner’s face, Starsky knew he needed to at least try, so he took the burrito from his hand and took a bite.

Immediately, the brightness came back to Hutch’s eyes. “That’s it, babe. I’ll get you a root beer. You just keep eating.” Hutch jumped up from the bed and jogged into the kitchen.

Starsky looked after him and took another bite out of the burrito. The brunet was only doing it because he knew it would make his lover happy. He couldn’t enjoy much of anything right now. He was going through too much to experience the simple pleasure of eating his favorite food.

He looked up as Hutch came back to the bedroom.

“Here ya go, pal.” The blond handed the opened bottle to Starsky, who took it and brought it to his lips. After one swig, he placed it on the nightstand.

Hutch noticed his partner didn’t have his normal appetite. In the past, that burrito would almost be gone by now, but the blond knew there was nothing normal in his friend’s life right now. Even though he still tried to make things as normal as possible for his abused lover, he hoped that eating—one of his favorite activities—would help to accomplish that, but it didn’t seem to be working.

After taking only two small bites from the burrito and one swig of root beer, Starsky handed the plate back to the blond. “I don’t want anymore, Hutch.”

Hutch sighed and took it from him. “Okay, buddy, maybe you’ll eat more later, huh?”

The brunet nodded and handed the mostly full bottle of root beer to him as well. “I’m kinda tired. Can you turn off the TV, please?” Starsky requested and turned back on his stomach, clutching the pillow tightly.

Hutch went to turn off the TV. “Do you need to go to the bathroom or anything? I think I should check the gauze.” Hutch moved closer to the bed. When he touched a piece of the tape, the brunet lifted his head and yelled, “NO! NOT NOW! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

The sudden outburst made the blond freeze, then he straightened up. “Okay Starsk. Let me know if you need anything.”

There was no response, so Hutch slowly walked out of the bedroom, glancing back at the sullen man, leaving the door open. He went to the living room and threw himself on the couch with his head resting on the back. Suddenly, he jumped up, like the sofa had burst into flames. He had forgotten what took place on it, and as the images rushed back, the blond began to feel ill. He hadn’t eaten for a while himself, but there was no way he had an appetite now. The feeling of vomiting was overwhelming, and Hutch had to run back into Starsky’s bedroom to the en-suite bathroom. As he retched into the toilet, Starsky lay there, listening to his friend, feeling responsible. This made him fall deeper under the dark cloak of despair.

***S&H***

Hutch quietly exited the bathroom and glanced down at his lover before returning to the living room. He stood in the center of the room, looking around to find somewhere to sleep. Deciding on the armchair near the couch, he sat and laid back. His eyes roamed the room, landing on the sofa, then he quickly shifted his gaze to the pool of blood where the two intruders had laid. He wondered what else happened in this room. Had one of the assholes been sitting in the very chair he occupied right now? The thought made the blond get up and stand, rubbing the back of his neck. He realized that staying in the room where his lover was assaulted made it impossible for him to rest, so he went back to the bedroom to get some sleep.

Starsky had a wooden armchair next to his bed, so Hutch sat down and tried to get comfortable. He slouched down in the chair and propped his feet on the mattress, careful not to wake his partner. Soon, he fell asleep, only to be awakened by shouting. Immediately, Hutch’s eyes popped open, and he sat up straight, looking at the bed.

The brunet was yelling at some unseen person. “Get away from me, you fucking piece of shit! Leave me alone!”

Hutch got up and crouched next to Starsky’s head. “Wake up, babe. Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

The distressed man continued to thrash, and the last thing he needed to do was hurt himself or pull his bandages off.

He caressed his lover’s face and kept speaking to him in a calming, soft tone. “Starsk, babe. Shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe. Wake up.”

Starsky opened his eyes to see the handsome face of his lover.

“Hey. You okay?” Hutch asked.

The curly-headed man’s eyes roamed over the beautiful, smiling face of his lover. “Yeah. Was I dreamin’?”

“I think it was more like a nightmare, buddy. Wanna tell me about it?”

Starsky shut his cobalt eyes for a moment, then opened them when he was ready to speak. But he felt too ashamed to meet his partner’s. “Rambo was, um, ya know, and I was tryin to tell em to stop and leave me alone, but he wouldn’t. He just kept pounding into me. It hurt so bad, and they enjoyed it.”

Hutch leaned forward and touched his lips to his lover’s in a tender kiss, smoothing back his curls with gentle hands. “I know Starsk, but it was only a nightmare. They’re dead and can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Tell that to my subconscious,” the brunet said, with a small, crooked smile.

Hutch snorted and stood, straightening the sheet over Starsky’s naked body. “Ya think you can go back to sleep?”

“I’ll try.” Starsky watched as his lover turned to walk away. “Hey. Where ya goin?”

“I’ll be right here in this chair,” he informed, walking to it.

“Why can’t you sleep with me, like you always do?”

“I dunno, Starsk. I don’t want to hurt you accidentally.”

“It’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t wanna sleep alone.”

The sapphire eyes were pleading, and he could never refuse them. “Okay,” Hutch agreed, stripping down to his boxers and looking down at the bed. “Um, if you want me in bed with you, you’re gonna have to move over a bit.”

“All right, but I think I need you to help me.”

Hutch went to the other side of the bed and grasped the long side of the towel. “I’m going to slide you on the towel, so try to keep still.”

The brunet nodded and let the big blond slide him from the center to the side of the bed. After that, Hutch pushed the pillow back under Starsky’s head and climbed onto the mattress. After getting under the sheet, he stretched out on his back with his arm under his head. Then glanced at the brunet.

“Is this okay?”

“No.”

The blond frowned in confusion and watched as Starsky maneuvered himself so he could lay his head and an arm across Hutch’s smooth chest.

“Now it’s okay.”

Hutch kissed the top of the curly head and placed his hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles.

“I’m sorry,” the brunet whispered after a few minutes.

“For what?”

“For yellin’ at you.”

“Oh, babe, there’s no need to apologize.” Hutch continued, “I should be the one apologizing.”

Starsky raised his head to look into the blond’s face. “What are you apologizing for?”

He sighed. “I… hurt you when they forced me…”

The dark-haired man reached up to caress the blond’s handsome face. “Like you said, they forced you—it wasn’t your fault. If you didn’t, they would have killed you.”

Hutch had tears in his pale blue eyes at the memory of what they made him do to his already abused lover. “But I’m still really sorry.”

Starsky pushed out his lips for the blond to kiss, and Hutch quickly obliged. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Let’s just get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

Then the two settled down for some much-needed sleep.

 

Chapter Four

As dawn filtered in through the window, Starsky began to stir. He and Hutch were still locked in an embrace, but the brunet needed to go to the bathroom. He leaned up and saw that his partner was sound asleep. And he really didn’t want to wake him, so he carefully dislodged himself from the blond and tried to figure out how to get out of bed without his partner’s help.

He didn’t want to turn over onto his battered butt and thighs, so he had to maneuver on his stomach and get his feet on the floor. The brunet wiggled until his feet and legs were hanging off the mattress. With a little more wiggling and bending from the waist, he slid his knees to the floor. This would have worked, but he didn’t know how much it would hurt or how he was going to stand from this position. He had to let out a loud groan, which, of course, woke up Hutch.

Hutch sat up, shocked to see his lover’s body half off the bed.

“Jesus, Starsky!” The blond ran around and found Starsky kneeling on the floor with his chest on the mattress. He bent down, grabbed the brunet under his arms, and lifted him to a standing position.

“Starsk, what on earth are you doing?”

“I had to go to the bathroom and didn’t wanna wake ya,” he stated innocently.

The blond put Starsky’s arm around his shoulder. “And you didn’t think doing this would have awakened me? Come on.” Hutch walked his partner into the bathroom, and Starsky leaned his hand against the wall.

“Ya know, Gordo, you could have really hurt yourself. What if you had landed on that amazing ass of yours, huh?”

“It would have really hurt,” Starsky admitted, grasping his dick and aiming it in the toilet bowl.

“Damn right.” Hutch inspected his bandages and noticed some of the tape had come loose. “Now, I have to re-tape some of these.”

“Hutch, do you think I can take a shower?”

“I don’t see why not. Can you lean on the sink until I turn on the shower?

Starsky nodded and placed his hands on the edge of the sink. He watched his lover open the shower door and turn the valve. After adjusting the temperature of the spray, he went back to Starsky. The brunet looked weak, as if he were going to fall to the floor at any moment. He hadn’t been on his feet for some time, so standing for a long period was proving to be difficult.

“Starsk, hold on. I need to remove the gauze before you go in.”

The brunet leaned down on his elbows while his lover took off the gauze. Hutch carefully peeled off each piece of tape and removed the gauze from his buttocks, then his thighs. Afterwards, the big blond stepped back to observe the tortured skin. The lacerations were healing but were still pretty raw.

“Babe, how do you feel? Does it still hurt a lot?”

“Not sure. I mean, I haven’t been moving a lot, but it hurt when I slid to my knees.”

“I bet it did. Promise me you’ll never do that again. If I’m not around, you don’t go anywhere, got it?”

Starsky heard the sternness in the blond’s voice, so he glanced sheepishly at him and nodded.

“Good. Now, let’s get you in the shower. I made sure the water was lukewarm, so no hot showers right now.” Hutch took off his boxers, then helped Starsky into the stall and under the spray.

Starsky placed his palms against the wall in front of him for support while the warm water flowed over his battered body. The steady spray soothed the soreness from his muscles and the welts. Then he moved his head back so the spray could wash over his face and hair.

Hutch heard his partner moan, and he knew it wasn’t from pain. He grabbed the bottle of shampoo and poured some into his palm, then rubbed it into the thick curls. This elicited another moan from the brunet as his lover massaged and caressed his scalp.

“That feels really good,” Starsky admitted in a relaxed tone.

“Happy to hear it.” After applying conditioner and rinsing it out, the blond reached for the bar of soap and lathered up a washcloth. He proceeded to wash Starsky’s body, starting with his upper back, shoulders, and arms. Then he moved down to his calves and feet.

Once he was done, Hutch had to wash his front. He knew his partner couldn’t turn around and stand without support, so he instructed his lover to face him and grab the shower head with both hands. When he’d done it, Hutch soaped the washcloth again and washed the front of his body, including his genitals, and soon the brunet began to get hard. The blond ignored it and continued to clean his partner. When he was done, he turned off the spray and helped Starsky out of the stall.

“Hutch, that was terrific!” he exclaimed, holding onto the sink again.

“Good.” Hutch smiled and reached for a bath towel to dry himself, then got another one for Starsky. He carefully patted the lacerations, then dried the rest of his body and his hair. When he was at the brunet’s genitals, he noticed his lover had become even more erect, with his cock bobbing in front of him. The blond hung both towels over the stall to dry and prepared to help his partner back to the bedroom.

“Um…Hutch?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not gonna do anything about…this?” Starsky glanced down at himself.

Hutch glanced at his lover’s stiff member and shook his head. “Only you can get a hard-on while you’re in this condition. What do you want me to do about it?”

“Whaddaya mean, what do I want you to do about it? Ya gotta take care of it.”

“Starsky, you’re in no shape…”

“This happened while you were washin’ me, and now you’re sayin you ain’t gonna do nothin about it?”

Hutch stood back and watched his partner lean down on the sink, barely able to remain standing. “Starsk, you can hardly stand, and Lord knows you can’t lie down on your back. Ya got any ideas?”

After taking a minute to think, Starsky came up with something. “Maybe you can take me back into the stall, and I’ll hold on to the shower head again while you blow me.”

Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. At least this way, his arms will be supporting his weight, not his legs. “That’s a good idea, Starsk.”

The blond helped his partner back into the stall, and the brunet reached up and grabbed the shower head. Then Hutch knelt down, grasped his cock, and took the head into his mouth. When he felt the tip at the back of his throat, he moved his mouth back and forth on the stiff phallus while fondling the heavy balls.

Starsky moaned and shut his eyes as his lover replaced his mouth with his hand and stroked him from base to tip.

“God, it feels so good. I’m gonna come!”

His lover was close, so Hutch picked up the pace, pumping him faster. He took the cock between his lips once more, and soon a warm, milky liquid filled his mouth. When the brunet was depleted, Hutch smacked his lips and stood up. He noticed Starsky’s eyes were still shut, but after a few seconds, they fluttered open.

“You okay?” Hutch asked, with some concern in his pale blue eyes.

“I’m better than okay,” the brunet stated, grinning. “Thanks.”

Hutch still couldn’t believe his quite abused partner was up for that, but the brunet was always aroused when ever his cock was touched. He was also surprised that he could get an erection. This might mean that his partner was feeling better, and God knows he could use a little pleasure after what he’s been through.

When Starsky dropped his arms, Hutch held him and assisted him from the stall, and then the brunet leaned on the sink again.

“Are you in any pain right now?” Hutch asked.

“Not too much, just sore.”

“Let’s get you back to the bedroom so I can reapply the ointment and gauze. I should probably put more of that anal cream on too,” Hutch told him.

Starsky made a face, then let Hutch help him back to the bed and onto his stomach. He clutched the pillow and waited for his lover’s attention.

Hutch went back to the bathroom to get his boxers. After putting them on, he retrieved all the supplies he needed and placed them on the bed next to Starsky.

“Okay, I’m going to apply more antiseptic ointment. Let me know if I’m hurting you a lot.”

After putting a rubber glove on his right hand, Hutch squeezed some on his index finger and applied it to the first of many lacerations. He kept glancing at the brunet to see if he was in pain. When there was no reaction, he moved on to the next one. The welts that were closed probably wouldn’t be as painful as the open ones. He wondered if he should apply the ointment to those first, so his discomfort would be over sooner.

“Starsk, do you want me to apply the ointment to the open ones first, so the worse pain will be over quicker?”

“I don’t care, Hutch. Do whatever you want.”

The blond applied the ointment to the first open wound, and immediately the brunet hissed.

“Sorry. Ya want me to stop, babe?”

“No, just keep goin. I’ll be okay.”

“I think I’m going to put it to the open ones first. I’ll try to be as gentle as possible.”

“Yeah okay.” Starsky gripped the pillow, preparing for the next surge of pain.

As Hutch continued to apply the ointment, Starsky said, “Jesus, how many are there?”

“This is the last one. Now I’ll do the rest.”

The brunet lifted his head to look back at the blond. “The rest!”

“Yeah, Starsk, you have more than a few welts, but these are closed, so it shouldn’t hurt as much or at all.”

Starsky laid his head back on the pillow with a miserable groan. He knew the belt had done a pretty good job of covering his ass and thighs, but he didn’t know just how many times. It was a little hard to keep track. As Hutch applied the ointment to his other welts, the brunet realized he wasn’t in much pain, so he tried to relax into it.

“Okay, that’s the last one,” the blond announced, pulling off the gloves and dropping them in the wastepaper basket.

“Thank God,” Starsky said, blowing out his breath.

“Now the anal ointment,” Hutch stated, pulling on another glove.

“The what?”

“The anal ointment. I told you I needed to apply more. Sammie said, once a day.”

“But what if I don’t need any more?”

“How do you know that? You were bleeding, so there was some tearing.”

“Am I bleeding now?”

“No, but the ointment is to heal inside and stop the pain.”

Starsky was still making a face.

“Come on, Starsk. You know you need this, and it’s no big deal. I’ve stuck my finger in your ass many times.”

“But if there’s tearin’ like you say, then when you put your finger in, it’s gonna hurt, right?”

“Maybe, but if I don’t, then you might get an infection in there, and that will hurt a lot more.”

Starsky thought about it and sighed. “Okay fine… go ahead.” He folded his arms on the pillow and buried his face.

Hutch picked up the ointment and squeezed a small amount on his finger, like Sammie instructed him to do. “I’m only going to put it in at the entrance and coat the lining. I’ll do it as gently as possible.”

“Just do it, Hutch.”

The blond heard the impatience in the curly-headed man’s voice, so he got on with it. Just before he pushed in his finger, Hutch told him, “It’ll be best if you try to relax your sphincter, so it won’t hurt as much.”

“I know that, Blintz. Please, just get on with it.”

The tip of Hutch’s finger slid inside, slowly breaching the ring of muscle. Even though Starsky knew he needed to relax, Hutch still felt him clamp down on his finger and groan.

“Starsky, I told you to relax.” Hutch tried not to sound scolding.

“I’m expecting pain, so it’s kinda hard to relax, ya know?” Starsky admitted, sounding like a small boy.

“I know, buddy. Just try to, and it’ll be over in a second.” When Hutch made sure that the inside of the puckered entrance was well coated, he announced, “There, I’m done.” He straightened, pulled off the glove, and threw it in the trash. “You did great. Did it hurt?”

“Not really. I think anticipating the pain and clamping down hurt more.”

“Well, that’s a good sign that the tears have probably healed,” the big blond grinned.

Starsky exchanged smiles with his lover. “Now ya gonna put that gauze back on me, huh?”

“Yeah, but from the looks of it, today might be the last time. Sammie said she’s going to call and check up on you today. I can ask her to stop by and take a look.”

After unrolling more gauze, Hutch taped it on Starsky’s butt-cheeks and thighs, then put away all the supplies.

“Good….Um…Blondie?”

Hutch sat on the side of the bed, running his fingers through the dark curls. “What is it, Gordo?”

“I’m hungry. Can I have the rest of my burrito?”

It did Hutch’s heart good to hear that his usually ravenous lover was getting his appetite back. “Sure. I’ll throw it in the oven for a few minutes and be right back. Ya want me to turn on the TV?”

“Yeah,” Starsky replied, turning his head towards the TV. “I think they repeat the Saturday morning cartoons on Sunday.”

The tall blond smiled to himself — his partner could be so childlike sometimes, and he found him adorable. “Let’s see what we’ll find.”

As he started switching channels, Starsky yelled out, “Stop! Go back.”

Hutch went back one channel and watched the glee in the dark-haired man’s face.

“Super Friends! Leave it there.”

Hutch snorted, then left his lover to his Saturday-Sunday morning cartoons and went to prepare his burrito. He hadn’t eaten at all last night because he was worried about his partner, so he was hungry too. Hutch bought a taco salad for himself and wasn’t too sure about how it would be the next day, but he was too hungry to really care.

While the burrito was getting hot, Hutch got dressed before Sammie arrived, then brought the partially eaten burrito to his friend. “Here ya go, babe. Careful, it’s still hot,” he warned, depositing himself in the armchair.

Starsky leaned up on one elbow and took the plate. After setting it on the bed beside him, he picked up the burrito and took a big bite, immediately regretting it.

“Hashafashasha!!!” Starsky exclaimed, trying to cool his burning mouth.

Hutch looked up from his salad, amused. “I told you to be careful. It was hot.”

As soon as Starsky blew on the rest, he devoured it quickly. “I think it tasted better the next day. How’s yours?” He asked, glancing at the wilted salad his partner seemed to have difficulty consuming.

“Not better the next day, but I’m hungry, so it’s fine.”

After eating, the blond stretched out on the bed next to his friend. They cuddled while watching TV, with Starsky on his side with his head on Hutch’s chest and Hutch with his arm around the brunet’s back, holding him close.

Suddenly the phone rang, and Hutch reached over his lover to grab the receiver.

“Hello. Starsky residence,” he announced, smiling at his bedmate.

“Hey Hutch, it’s Sammie. How’s our patient doing?”

Hutch answered the brunet’s inquiring expression. “It’s Sammie.”

Starsky nodded, then put his head back down on his chest and turned his attention back to the tube.

“He seems a lot better. I gave him a shower this morning, applied more antibacterial ointment to the welts, and covered them with fresh gauze. I also put in more anal ointment.”

Starsky glared at that statement, and Hutch ignored him.

“Are any of them still bleeding?”

“No, they look pretty much healed. I told Starsky I might not need to put the gauze on tomorrow, but I figured you should make that call. Do you think you can swing by later?”

“I should be able to after work, but I won’t be able to stay long. I’m having dinner at Mama’s tonight.”

“Dinner at Mrs. Walter’s, huh? She’s some cook.” Hutch remembered many times when he and Starsky had been invited to dinner.

As soon as the brunet heard that, his ears perked up. “Is she makin’ blueberry pie?” he asked eagerly.

“Did you hear him?”

“Yes, and tell him…”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself?” Hutch suggested.

“Okay. Let me talk to him.”

Hutch handed the receiver to his partner, and he leaned up with his elbows on his lover’s chest. “Ow, Starsk, your elbow is really bony.”

“Oh, sorry.” Starsky moved off Hutch and supported himself on the mattress, then spoke to their friend.

“Hi Sammie.”

“Hi yourself, Starsk. How ya feelin’?”

“A lot better, thanks to you. Hey, I heard you’re eatin’ at Mrs. Walter’s tonight.”

“Yes, I am, and I don’t know if she’s made a pie,” Sammie told him, before her curly-haired friend had the chance to ask.

“Oh,” Starsky responded sadly and quickly changed the subject. “Ya think I can take off the gauze soon?”

“If there’s no more bleeding, yes. The welts can heal without being covered.”

“Terrific!” The brunet’s cobalt eyes brightened at the news.

“I told Hutch I’d stop by after work and take a look.”

“Okay. What about that butt stuff?” he asked, glancing at Hutch.

“I’ll check it out when I get there. Look, I gotta go. I’ll see ya later.”

“Okay. See ya later, bye.” Starsky gave the receiver back to Hutch to place back on its base. When the blond looked back at his partner, he was frowning.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

Starsky looked sideways at his lover. “No… I think I need to… um.”

“Need to what?”

“Go to the bathroom.”

“All right.” From the look on his partner’s face, he had to ask, “One or two?”

The brunet glanced sheepishly at his lover and held up two fingers.

Hutch figured that was it, so he got out of bed. “Okay, then let’s get you up.” He helped Starsky scoot on his side to the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor, then he put his hands under his arms and stood him up.

Starsky leaned on Hutch as he walked stiffly into the bathroom. Once inside, the brunet asked, “Do you think you have to remove the gauze?”

The gauze was only covering his cheeks and both thighs, leaving his butt-crack exposed.

“I don’t think so, but we’ll see. It might be good to leave it on to prevent your butt from making direct contact with the hard seat.”

The brunet heard ‘hard seat.’ He felt a little nervous. His butt hadn’t been in contact with anything since it happened, and now he was wondering how much it would hurt. He wished he didn’t have to go at all.

Hutch moved him to the toilet and turned him around. Then he stood in front of him, supporting him under his arms. “Okay, now slowly lower yourself down to the seat.”

Starsky did as he was told, but just before his butt made contact, he stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s gonna hurt.”

“Starsk, you don’t know that unless you sit, so sit.”

The brunet locked eyes with Hutch, then lowered himself until his gauze covered ass touched the hard, cold seat.

“You okay?” Hutch asked, not letting go of him.

He assessed himself, then answered, “I think so.”

“Good, I’m going to let you go, and you’ll be on your full weight. Let me know if it’s uncomfortable.” The blond removed his hands from under Starsky’s arms and stood back. “You still okay?”

Starsky’s body settled on his seat, and he assessed himself again, then looked up at his partner. “I think I’m good. You can go now, and I’ll call ya when I’m done.”

Hutch nodded. “But I’m leaving the door open.” Then he left his lover to his business and returned to the bedroom. He sat on the bed and waited until Starsky announced he was done. After a little while, Hutch heard grunts coming from inside.

“Starsk, how ya doin’?”

There was a pause, with more grunting. “Not so good.”

Hutch got up and leaned against the door frame. “Having trouble, buddy?”

The brunet gave him a pitiful look. “Yeah.”

“It’s okay. Sammie gave me a prescription for a stool softener.”

Once his partner was on his feet, Hutch walked him back to the bedroom and laid him on his side. Then he got the bottle and read the instructions.

“Ya givin’ them to me now?”

“It says here—to be taken at bedtime and on an empty stomach would make it work faster. So I’ll give them to you before you go to sleep.”

Starsky made a face. “But I feel stopped up now.”

“Babe, I think you should wait, sorry.”

The brunet let out an exasperated sigh. “Terrific.”

“In the meantime, I think you need to drink a lot of water. I’ll bring you a glass.”

When Hutch came back, he handed him a large glass of water and watched his partner drink it down. Starsky gave it back to him and laid his head back on the pillow.

“So, how did it feel sitting on your butt?” the blond asked, placing the empty glass on the nightstand, and sat on the bed. He inspected the gauze for blood.

Starsky propped on his elbow. “Better than I thought it would. I just knew I wouldn’t be able to sit for very long, though.”

“That’s good, Starsk,” he said, running his fingers through the thick curls. “Soon, you’ll be able to sit without any pain.”

“I hope so. I’m getting tired of lying on my stomach.”

Hutch observed his friend and saw that he was becoming depressed again. “Well, when Sammie gets here, we can ask her about having you sit, if you’re able.”

The brunet nodded with sad eyes and a pout.

“Hey buddy! How about a game of chess?” Hutch suggested to change his mood.

Starsky shook his head.

“Come on, you mean you’re not gonna give me another chance to beat your ass this time?” Just as the words came out of his mouth, Hutch regretted them. “I’m so sorry, Starsk. I didn’t mean to….”

Starsky looked at his lover. He knew Hutch didn’t mean to use that phrase after what he’s been through, so he needed him to know there’s no harm done. “That’s what you think, Blintz. I’m gonna checkmate you all over the place.”

“We’ll see, and this time I’m on to that ‘Starsky’s Law’ shit. That mouth of yours is gonna stay shut.” Hutch grinned and got up to get the board from the living room. “Where…oh, I found it.”

Hutch set the board up on the mattress next to Starsky and pulled the armchair close to the bed. The brunet got in his usual position on his side, propped on his elbow, and started the game.

“Checkmate!” Starsky yelled, with a broad grin on his face. “I told ya I’d do it and without sayin a word.”

The blond sat back and took in his gleeful friend. “Yeah, ya did.”

Suddenly, the brunet looked seriously at his lover.

“What?”

“You let me win, didn’t ya?”

Hutch’s pale blue eyes widened. “Whaddaya talkin’ about?”

“You heard me. I didn’t really win, did I?”

Shit! Hutch thought. He wasn’t playing to his full ability. He wanted to make his partner feel better, and he knew that wouldn’t happen if he won. Now what was he going to tell him, because he didn’t want to lie to his face?

“Um…Starsk…”

“I knew it!” Suddenly, the brunet violently shoved the board and all the chess pieces off the bed, scrambling them all over the floor. Then Starsky turned on his stomach with his face turned away.

Hutch knew this extreme reaction wasn’t just because he didn’t win, honestly. It was probably due to being frustrated and tired of everything. As he was about to pick them up, a knock came at the door. He glanced at Starsky, then went out of the bedroom.

He pulled the door open to see the smiling, beautiful caramel-colored face of his doctor and friend. They embraced, and Hutch stepped back for her to enter, then shut the door.

“How’s it goin’?” She asked, looking around and noticing the big blood stain was still on the floor. She figured the area rug would be thrown out in time.

“Well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at the bedroom. “He’s in a bad mood right now.”

“Really? Why?”

“I was trying to make him feel better because he was upset about not being able to use the bathroom, so I challenged him to a game of chess.”

“What happened? He lost?”

“It’s worse than that. He figured out that I lost on purpose, and now he’s pissed.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I think I have something that might cheer him up.”

Sammie set the bag she was carrying on the coffee table, reached in, and took out a plate covered with plastic wrap.

Immediately, Hutch could see what it was. “Oh, I’m sure that will cheer him up.” The tall blond grinned.

Hutch led Sammie to the brunet’s room. “Hey Starsk.”

“Just go away, will ya?” he said, without looking up.

“Oh, okay, then I’ll just have to eat it.”

“Eat what? What are ya talkin’ about?” Starsky leaned up, turned his head, and saw Sammie standing there holding a plate.

“Oh, Sammie, I didn’t know you were here,” the brunet stated, looking chagrined.

“Hey Starsk. Look what I brought.” Sammie held the plate in front of Starsky for him to see.

“Is that blueberry pie?” he asked with pure delight.

“Yes. It seems Mama did make a pie, and when I told her I was visiting you, she sent this with me.”

“Terrific!” Starsky exclaimed, trying to prop himself up higher on his elbow. He took the plate from her and pulled off the cellophane, seeing two big slices.

“Let me get a fork,” Hutch stated, leaving the room.

Starsky looked up at his lovely friend. “Did you tell Mrs. Walters what happened to me?”

“No, I just told her you got hurt while on duty.”

“Oh, okay.”

Hutch came back with one fork and handed it to his buddy. “Here ya go.”

Starsky took the fork, then looked at the two slices. “Hutch, I think one of these slices is for you.” He glanced at Sammie, who glanced at Hutch.

“No, they’re both for you, babe,” Hutch told him with a sweet smile.

The brunet’s eyes went from his lover to his friend, looking for confirmation. The doctor smiled, then said, “I’m sorry, Starsk, but I need to leave soon so I won’t be late for dinner. You know how Mama gets when you’re late. Can you hold off on eating the pie until I check you out?”

Reluctantly, Starsky placed the plate on his bed. “Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks.” She waited for him to turn onto his stomach, then pulled back the sheet and inspected the gauze. There was no bleeding, but she had to see the wounds. “I’m going to remove the gauze so I can check the lacerations.” She gently pulled off all the tape and the gauze, revealing the welts.

“How do they look, Doc?” Starsky asked.

“They’re lookin good, Starsk, but I’d like to leave it covered for another day, just to make sure the welts have healed enough. After that, you won’t need the gauze anymore.”

“Okay.”

“I heard you’re having trouble having a bowel movement.”

“Jeez, Hutch!”

The blond shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

“It’s okay, Starsk. Well, are you?”

“Yeah,” he admitted shyly.

Sammie looked back at the blond. “Tonight, give him two of the softeners I prescribed, and he should be good in the morning.”

Hutch nodded and glanced at his partner to make sure he heard.

“Starsk, when you tried today, how did it feel when you sat down on the toilet?” Sammie asked.

“Okay.”

“No pain?”

“No, just felt a little sore.”

“Good.”

“Can I sit now?”

“Well, I’d prefer you wait until tomorrow to make sure two of the welts are more healed. I don’t want pressure on them until they do.”

“Okay, Doc,” Starsky agreed, smiling at her.

She looked at the blond. “Hutch, come here. I want to show you something.”

Hutch went to her side.

“These two welts are still a little raw. See the redness, so keep them covered with gauze and apply the ointment.”

The blond nodded, then asked, “Oh, what about the anal ointment?”

Sammie grabbed two gloves from her bag and pulled them on.

“Starsk, do you mind if I look?”

Starsky looked at his lover and, after seeing approval, said, “Yeah, okay.”

She spread Starsky’s cheeks to inspect the area, then pressed the opening. “Does that hurt?”

“No.”

Then she pushed the tip of her finger inside. “How about this?”

The brunet felt the digit, but it didn’t hurt. “It’s okay.”

She removed her finger and pulled off the gloves. “Well, you’re not in any pain, so I believe the tears have healed, so you won’t need any more ointment.”

“That’s terrific!” Starsky exclaimed.

Sammie went into the bathroom to wash her hands, and when she came out, she proclaimed, “I’m gonna take off.” Then she remembered something. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, running from the bedroom.

The two men exchanged glances, and Hutch shrugged. Then they heard her call to Hutch from the living room.

“Hutch, can you come here, please?”

When Hutch reached Sammie, he saw her take out a container of chocolate ice cream. “Hutch, please put this in the freezer right away before it melts all over the place.”

The blond quickly carried the ice cream into the kitchen and placed it in the freezer, then returned to say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Sammie,” he said, kissing her on the cheek and embracing her. “Thanks for everything.”

“Again, it’s my pleasure, and I’m so glad to see Starsky recovering so quickly. Has he talked about what happened?”

“No. It kinda came up once, but he didn’t want to.”

“Well, he’s going to need to.”

“I know,” Hutch told her.

She moved closer to Hutch and spoke softly, “I want to ask you something, and if it’s too personal, you don’t have to answer.”

Hutch gave her a questioning look, then nodded.

“Was Starsky penetrated before the assault?”

The blond’s ocean blue eyes grew wide, and he could feel his face flush. “Um…yeah, why?”

“This would explain why his anus wasn’t more damaged, so that’s a good thing.” Sammie gave him a knowing look and a sweet smile, which made Hutch’s face even redder.

The blond’s only response was to look embarrassed and lower his eyes.

“Starsk, I’m leaving now! Call me if you need anything!” Sammie shouted toward the bedroom.

“Okay! Tell Mrs. Walter’s thanks for the pie!”

“I will!” Hutch gave her another kiss, then she left.

Hutch shut the door and thought about Sammie’s question. She was saying it was a good thing Starsky was in a sexual relationship with a man, and having had sex before the rape helped. He wasn’t a virgin, so the damage to his anus was minimal. It could have been worse, but it was still a brutal assault.

Hutch walked back to the bedroom as Starsky was about to put a fork full of pie into his mouth and shouted, “Starsk, wait!”

Starsky stopped with his mouth gaping open and watched his partner snatch the plate from him.

“I’ll be right back.” Hutch ran from the bedroom, plate in hand.

“Hey Hutch! Where ya goin’ with my pie! Come back here!”

The blond hurriedly took the ice cream out of the freezer and grabbed a spoon. He scooped some on top of both slices, then put the container back in the freezer. After grabbing up the plate, he raced back to the bedroom.

“Huuutch! Bring back my pie! Huuuut…” Starsky stopped yelling when he saw his lover return.

“Why d’ya take my pie?”

“This is why, Gordo.” Hutch handed the plate back to Starsky, and the brunet’s eyes lit up.

“Chocolate ice cream!”

The blond’s smile was radiant as he observed his friend’s joy. “Yeah. Sammie brought it with the pie.”

Starsky scooped up a fork full of pie with the ice cream and shoved it eagerly into his mouth. “Mmm, so good,” he uttered.

“Well, enjoy it, buddy. You deserve it.”

Starsky swallowed, then realized he should share. “Hutch, don’t ya want some?” He asked, holding up a fork full to his lover.

The blond made a face. “No, thank you. Vanilla ice cream goes with blueberry pie, not chocolate. You can have that weird combo all to yourself.”

Starsky shrugged, then devoured it. “More for me,” he said, around a mouth full.

Hutch snorted, then bent down to pick up the board and chess pieces.

The brunet stopped eating to look sorrowfully at his partner. “I’m sorry, Hutch.”

From his crouched position on the floor, Hutch glanced up at him. “It’s okay, Starsk, but rest assured, it’ll never happen again. The next time we play, I’ll win fair and square,” Hutch stated, reaching under the bed for the bishop.

“Yeah right. You mean when I win, fair and square.” Starsky happily finished the pie and ice cream, then handed the empty plate back to Hutch.

He took the plate. “I’ll put this in the kitchen, and when I come back, I’ll take care of those two welts.”

The brunet looked after his lover and sighed. He was so tired of all of this. He wanted all of this crap taken off him and no more lying on his belly. As soon as he was healed, Starsky wanted everything to go back to normal, or as normal as possible. He was going to try to forget what happened to him and just move on. As his lover came back into the room, Starsky looked at him and hoped that he would do the same.

Hutch pulled on one glove, then unscrewed the cap on the tube. “Okay, I’m going to apply the ointment to all the welts, especially the two that are not quite healed, then I’ll cover them again.” He wanted to explain what he was about to do, so Starsky would know what to expect.

He went about gently attending to his lover’s healing wounds, and, after putting on fresh gauze, Hutch went to the bathroom to rinse his hands. When he came back, Starsky propped himself on his elbow again, looking contemplative, so he sat on the bed next to him.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“It’s nothin’.”

Hutch knew it was something. They knew each other so well that it was hard to keep things from each other. He remembered Sammie saying that he needed to talk, and maybe this was the time.

“Come on, babe. Talk to me.”

Starsky turned his face toward his lover and saw sincere ocean blue eyes. Those eyes always melted the brunet’s heart and brought down his defenses. “Hutch, I want to forget about what happened, okay? I don’t wanna talk about it. I just wanna move on.”

Hutch sighed loudly. “Babe, I know you want that, but before that can happen, I think you should talk about it.”

The brunet propped on his elbow and looked at him. “Talk about what? That I was raped by a man? I wasn’t a fuckin’ virgin, Hutch, so what’s the big deal?”

“Jesus Starsk, you were raped. You were sexually assaulted, and you were beaten. It was a big deal. A very big deal. You can’t just make believe it didn’t happen.”

“What if that’s exactly what I want to do? What if I want to make believe it didn’t happen? Can you do that for me, Hutch, huh? Can you make believe it didn’t happen, so I can move on?”

“Babe, don’t forget I was there. I saw what they did to you and what they made me do to you. I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Fine, then don’t forget it, but I will.” Starsky laid back on his stomach with his head on the pillow, ending the conversation.

“Starsk, we’re in this together.”

Starsky glanced over his shoulder at his lover, with anger in the dark blue eyes. “No, Hutch, we’re not in this together. You don’t want to respect my decision to let it go.”

“And you don’t want to respect my decision that you should talk about it.”

“Then you’re not with me on this, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Hutch watched as his friend turned on his side, emphasizing no further discussion on the matter. He knew his partner could be very stubborn when he had his mind made up, but he hoped in time he’d see it his way.

 

Chapter Five

After glancing at the nightstand clock, Hutch noticed it was getting late, and he should give Starsky the stool softener. “Starsk, I think I should give you the stool softener now, so it’ll work by morning.”

Hutch stood on the side of the bed, waiting for a response. Just as he was about to repeat it, the brunet said, in a barely audible voice, “Okay.”

Starsky sat up, and Hutch placed two pills in his hand. When the blond returned with a glass of water, Starsky threw the pills into his mouth and drank them down. After handing the glass to his partner, he laid back down.

“Babe, do you need to go to the bathroom before we turn in?”

Starsky had to think about it. He did need to go, but he didn’t want Hutch to help him. He was too upset right now, but if he didn’t go now, he’d have to get up in the middle of the night.

“Yeah.”

Hutch moved toward his lover to help him, and Starsky moved away. “Let me try to do it myself,” the brunet said adamantly.

Hutch stepped back, holding up his hands. He watched Starsky wiggle on his stomach to get his legs off the bed, then pushed himself up with his hands and placed his feet on the floor. The blond waited for the brunet to decide his next move.

At this point, Starsky knew he had to be able to straighten up and walk toward the bathroom on his own, but this was something he’d never done. He had to admit he was a little scared, but he really didn’t want Hutch to help him. He glared at the blond before letting go of the mattress and standing on his own. He teetered a bit, but once he got his balance, he took a step forward.

From where Hutch stood, his partner looked like a mummy, with his naked body partially covered in gauze, as he walked stiff-legged toward the bathroom. He had to give it to his dark-haired lover—the man was pushing himself and, so far, doing a good job. He guessed it was due to stubbornness mixed with anger.

As Starsky moved toward the bathroom, Hutch stayed close behind. Once he made it to the door, the brunet held onto the door frame, obviously exhausted. He glared at his lover and continued inside, holding on to the sink for support.

Hutch leaned on the door frame with his arms folded as he watched Starsky turn around and place his hand on the wall. After grasping his cock, he looked at his partner.

“Can ya give me a little privacy, please?” he asked indignantly.

The blond raised his brows. “Sure. Call me if you need any help,” Hutch said as he moved out of the doorway.

“I won’t,” the brunet said, then pushed the door shut.

Hutch shook his head. That man of mine could really be a stubborn little shit when he wants to be. He’s upset because he knows I’m right. If he really wants to put this behind him, he needs to talk about it, and if not to me, then to someone else. But he is going to fight me tooth and nail until then.

The tall blond leaned against the closed door and listened. The toilet flushed, then the faucet came on. He put his ear to the door and heard him brushing his teeth. After about ten minutes, Starsky was about to come out, so Hutch quickly stepped back and resumed observing his determined partner.

The curly-haired man passed him, walking stiffly back to the bed.

“Starsk, you’re doin’ great!” Hutch beamed and received another glare from the cobalt eyes.

As he watched his lover try to figure out how to get back in bed, Hutch decided to ask, already knowing the answer, “Ya need some help, babe?”

“No.” Starsky laid his hands on the mattress, then slowly bent his leg and placed his knee on the mattress. He lifted the other leg, so he was now on his hands and knees on the bed.

Hutch wanted to applaud his lover’s efforts but thought better of it. He just stood and continued to observe him sliding his knees toward the foot of the bed until he collapsed flat on his belly again. It was obvious that took a lot out of him, as he lay breathing hard. The blond moved closer to the bed, looking down at him.

“Ya need anything else, Gordo? Ya want me to cover you with the sheet?”

“No. Goodnight.”

With the finality of that statement, the blond knew he should just leave him alone. He wondered if his lover wanted him to sleep with him again tonight, but considering his mood, he figured that would be a firm- no. So he glanced back once more at the man sprawled on the bed, then walked out of the room, keeping the door ajar—just in case.

Hutch looked around the living room, and his eyes stopped at the blood stain. He knew the rug needed to go, so he decided to remove it and take it to the large trash receptacle behind the building. Once he pushed the coffee table out of the way, he rolled up the large area rug and hoisted it over his shoulder. With one hand, he awkwardly opened the door, stepped through, and then shut it behind him.

When he got back, the phone was ringing. He jogged to answer it before it woke up Starsky.

“Hello.”

“Hutch?”

“This is he.”

“It’s Dobey. How’s Starsky?”

“Hi Cap’. He’s doing okay.”

“That’s good. When do you think you’ll be in to discuss what happened and write up your report? Officer Glassman already submitted his.”

“I can try to come in tomorrow.”

“Great. Give Starsky my best and tell him I hope to see him back at work soon.”

“I will, Cap’. See ya tomorrow.” As Hutch hung up, he heard Starsky calling him.

“Huuutch!”

Hutch peered inside the room. “Yeah?”

“Who was that?”

“Dobey. He wanted to see how you were doing and to ask me when I’d be coming in to discuss what happened and turn in my report.

The brunet turned to his side and leaned up on his elbow. “What did ya tell him?”

Hutch moved inside the room and stood next to the bed. “I told him I’d come in tomorrow; that’s, of course, if you can stand for me to be away from you for a few hours, but from the way you felt earlier, that might not be a bad idea,” the blond said, with a small smile.

Starsky reached out his hand, and Hutch grasped it and was pulled down on the bed. The brunet wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his chest, while Hutch held him tight.

“I’m so sorry, Hutch. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep getting angry at you, and I don’t wanna be angry at you. I love you and don’t know what I’d ever do without you.”

Hutch tilted the brunet’s face up to look into his eyes and saw the cobalt blue orbs brimming with tears. He lowered his head to kiss him on the lips.

“Babe, it’s okay. You’ve been through a lot in the last few days. It’s understandable that your moods would change from time to time.”

“But you don’t deserve it. You’ve been takin’ care of me so good, and I thank you by yellin’ and glaring at ya.”

“Babe, it’s okay; besides, you gettin angry and not wanting me to help you, made you see that you could do it yourself.” Hutch pressed Starsky’s face against his chest and caressed the soft curls.

“Yeah, but I still need ya. I’ll always need ya.”

“And I’ll always need you, Starsk. It’s me and thee forever, remember?”

“Always. Now come to bed.” Starsky moved over to give his big blond space, then watched as he removed his clothes, leaving on his boxers.

“Get rid of those.”

Hutch looked down at himself. “My boxers? Why?”

“Cause I wanna thank you for helpin’ me.”

The blond narrowed his cerulean eyes at him and wondered what his lover was up to. He shoved his boxers down his legs and stepped out of them. “Now what?”

“Bring that gorgeous cock over here.”

Hutch cautiously padded closer to his dark-haired lover. “Babe, what are you up to?” he asked, watching Starsky move closer to the edge of the bed.

“I told ya. I wanna thank you.”

The brunet reached out, grasped his lover’s cock with his dominant left hand, and started pumping it. Once it was becoming firm, he tugged it gently so the blond would move closer to him. Then he covered the head with his mouth, and sucked and licked it like it was a delicious lollipop.

Hutch closed his eyes and tilted his head back. His fingers danced in the thick curls as his lover pleasured him with his talented mouth.

“God, Starsk,” Hutch moaned, biting his bottom lip.

Starsky kept working on his lover’s rock-hard shaft, tasting pre-cum. He swirled it around the deep red bulbous head with his tongue, then resumed stroking him.

“Babe… Ahhh… I’m gonna come!”

Starsky moved his hand faster as his lover was near climax. With a loud, guttural groan, the blond came hard in his mouth, and the brunet swallowed every bit. When the spewing subsided, he removed his mouth from the softening phallus and looked up at the panting man.

“Did ya enjoy that, Blintz?” The brunet asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, giving his partner a lecherous look.

“Can’t ya tell Gordo?”

Starsky snorted, then commanded, “Now get in bed.”

Starsky scooted back to the center of the bed, and Hutch lay on his side so the brunet could cuddle close behind him. They spooned in silence until Starsky spoke.

“Hutch,” he said with his chin resting on his shoulder and his mouth near his ear.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I know I should talk about what happened, but I’m not ready yet. Maybe after I’ve healed a little more, okay?

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen.”

“Good.” Starsky let out a weary sigh. “Now let’s get some sleep before my bowels erupt.”

“Starsky.”

“What? It’s true.”

Hutch released a sigh of his own. “Good night, partner.”

“Goodnight, Blondie.”

***S&H***

Sometime around six in the morning, Starsky was awoken by a rumbling in his stomach. During the night, he had moved away from Hutch and was now lying on his stomach. He leaned up and observed the blond’s sleeping form. He was torn as to what he should do. Should he just get out of bed and go to the bathroom? He knew he could do it now, but what if something happened? Hutch would be pissed at him for not waking him up, so with one more glance at the blond, he shook him.

“Hey Hutch.”

Nothing.

Hutch, wake up.”

A little stirring.

“Hutch, wake up! I gotta go!”

The yell caused the blond’s eyes to pop open. Once he realized where he was and what was going on, he sat up and looked at his partner.

“Okay. Come on.” Hutch got out of bed and dragged the towel—which was still under Starsky—to the edge of the bed, then helped him stand.

Once Starsky straightened and was standing on his own, he wanted to try to walk without assistance again.

“Lemme try, okay, but stay close just in case.”

Hutch stood back and watched his lover make another trek to the bathroom unassisted. He seemed to be moving a little quicker this time, and Hutch wasn’t sure if it was due to the urgency of his need or because he was experiencing less discomfort now.

Starsky made it to the doorway and kept going until he was standing with his back to the toilet. He remembered it not hurting too much when he sat before, so he was hoping it’d be that way again. He glanced at Hutch, then gingerly sat down. After relaxing on the seat, he erupted, as he warned the night before.

“Hutch, I think you should go. This could get ugly.”

The blond didn’t have to be told twice and backed away. “Call me if ya need help,” he said, then shut the door.

While his partner was occupied, Hutch decided to put on a pair of sweat pants. He went to the drawer that Starsky had emptied for him and took out well-worn, comfortable ones and pulled them on, then decided to make breakfast. While doing so, he made sure to keep an ear open in case Starsky needed him.

After about ten minutes, the bathroom door opened. Hutch glanced back to see the brunet slowly walking out of his bedroom, rubbing his stomach.

“Did everything come out okay?” Hutch asked, with amusement dancing in the sky-blue eyes.

“Ha ha, but yeah, it did. I feel a hell of a lot better,” Starsky stated.

Hutch noticed that his partner was walking a lot better, but still a little stiffly, probably due to still having some gauze attached to his butt.

“Other than that, how ’ya feelin’?” The blond walked closer to his partner and stood in front of him, holding his upper arms.

“Pretty good. Are you gonna take off the rest of this gauze now?”

“I think so. Go back to the bedroom and lie down so I can take a look.”

Starsky padded as quickly as he could and laid down on his stomach, hopefully for the last time.

First Hutch examined the uncovered welts, and they all looked good. Then he removed the gauze from the other ones.

Starsky was trying to wait for the verdict, but he was too anxious. “So, what do they look like? Are they healed?”

“From the looks of it, yeah.”

“Terrific!”

Hutch threw the gauze into the trash with relieved finality, then stood back to see what his newly freed lover would do next.

Suddenly, Starsky started squirming, uncontrollably.

“Starsk, what’s wrong?”

“My butt’s itchin’ real bad.” The brunet continued to squirm and wiggle his hips. “Come on, Hutch. Ya gotta do somethin’, I’m dyin’ here.”

“Hold on, buddy.” Hutch grabbed the bag of prescriptions he brought in from the dresser and pulled out a tube of hydrocortisone cream. He stood next to Starsky and screwed off the cap. “Sammie told me to get this in case the welts started itching as they healed.”

As Hutch was about to squeeze some on his finger, he stopped. “I gotta get some gloves.”

When he moved away from the bed, Starsky grabbed his hand. “Forget the damn gloves; just put it on me!”

Hutch put some on his finger, kneeled on the bed, and applied the cream to every welt on his lover’s cheeks and thighs.

“Faster Hutch, please.”

Instead of applying the cream to each abrasion, the blond squeezed some into his palm and rubbed his hands together. Then he spread it over the entire surface, gently massaging it into the irritated skin.

“Mmm… that’s good,” Starsky moaned, blissfully.

Hutch got off the bed and looked down at his partner. “Is that enough, babe?”

Starsky paused to make sure the itching had stopped. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks,, Hutch,” he said, reaching out for his friend.

The blond took his hand and was pulled down to give his lover a kiss. “I’m glad it worked, Starsk. Now I need to apply more antibacterial ointment, so stay there,” he said going into the bathroom to wash his hands, then went to get the other ointment.

“Why? You said it looked healed,” he stated, looking back.

“Yes, they looked healed, but since I’m not a doctor, I don’t really know. I think we need to keep applying it until Sammie says to stop.”

After putting on a glove, Hutch proceeded to apply it to every laceration. “There, done.” He pulled off the glove and disposed of it in the trash, and looked down at his partner. “So ya gonna get up?”

Starsky was still afraid to roll onto his back, so he rose up on his hands and knees and crawled backwards off the bed. Once he was standing, he observed Hutch in his sweatpants .

“Hutch, do you think I could put on some pants? I’m kinda tired of being naked.”

“I’m not tired of it.” The blond grinned. “But if that’s what you want, I don’t see why not, as long as they’re soft. I’ll see whatcha got.”

Starsky watched Hutch pull a pair of blue cotton drawstring pajamas from the drawer and walk back to him.

“How ‘bout these?” he asked, holding them up for Starsky’s approval.

“Yeah. Can ya help me get em on?”

The blond knelt in front of Starsky and held the pants open. After holding on to Hutch’s shoulder for support, he lifted his foot into one leg hole, then the other. Hutch stood, raising the pants up the brunet’s muscular legs until they reached his waist, taking care not to rub the still-sensitive skin.

“Thanks. I can do the string.” Starsky tied it into a neat little bow.

“How does it feel to be wearing pants again?” Hutch asked, smiling.

“To tell ya the truth, it feels a little strange, but I’m glad I’m not wearing that gauze anymore.”

“Yeah.” Hutch walked out of the bedroom and through the living room back to the kitchen.

Starsky followed him but stopped in the living room and glanced around. It was the first time he’d been in there since the assault. He turned and stared at the couch, where most of it happened. He could feel the excruciating pain and the fear when he was bent over it being whipped and raped. He looked over, seeing the area where he was held, and whe his cock stroked and his balls painfully squeezed. When he looked down, he expected to see the blood stain from his two dead torturers, but the rug was missing. He walked toward the kitchen and stopped at the entrance.

“Ya got rid of the rug?”

The blond looked back. “Yeah buddy. I didn’t think you wanted to keep it.”

Starsky shook his head, then sniffed the air. “Is that bacon I smell?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d fix a little breakfast for us. How does scramble eggs, bacon, and toast sound?”

“It sounds great. You got all of this while you were out getting my burrito?”

“Yep. Have a seat; everything will be ready in a few minutes.”

Starsky looked down at the hard wooden chair, like it was something to be cautious of.

Hutch saw the worry in his friend’s sapphire eyes, put down the spatula, and then padded past him to the bedroom. When he emerged, he was carrying one of the pillows from the bed.

“Here, babe, try this.” He placed the soft pillow on the wooden chair and waited for his partner to sit.

Starsky glanced at Hutch, then lowered himself onto the soft padding. After settling, he sighed and smiled. “Feels good, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. How about some coffee?” Hutch went to the pot and poured him a mug full, then placed it in front of him. “Your sugar’s on the table, and I’ll get the milk.”

“You bought milk too.” The brunet was a bit surprised at how thorough his lover’s shopping had been.

“Well, ya didn’t have anything.” Hutch placed the carton on the table and went back to plate their breakfast.

After putting sugar and milk in his coffee, Starsky brought it to his lips and sipped the hot brew, savoring the taste. As he sipped his coffee, he glanced at the living room.

Hutch brought two plates and put one down in front of his partner and one at his spot. When he looked at the brunet, he was staring toward the living room with a haunted expression.

“Hey babe…babe.”

Starsky turned and blinked at his lover. “Yeah?”

“Your food’s getting cold.”

The brunet looked down at the plate, like he was surprised it was there. When he kept staring at it, Hutch became concerned.

“Starsk, you okay? Not hungry?”

Starsky looked into the worried eyes of his lover, then back down at his plate, seemingly deep in thought. “It was horrible.”

“What was horrible?”

“What they did to me,” he started in a small voice.

Hutch put down his fork and leaned forward to listen to his lover, nodding.

After glancing at Hutch, Starsky turned his head toward the living room again. As he spoke, it seemed like he was reliving everything.

“The whole time I was tryin to fight em, but after a while I just couldn’t. They wanted to break me, and in the end, they finally did.”

With his Adam’s apple quivering, Starsky continued without looking at his friend and stared straight ahead with his mind’s eye, recalling the horrendous ordeal.

“When he put his filthy hand on my cock and stroked it, I felt sick, but I had to stand up to him. I couldn’t let him know how I was feelin, and when he didn’t see a reaction, he needed to hurt me, so he squeezed my balls. I still didn’t give him the satisfaction, but it was really hard. I wanted to scream.”

Hutch saw the deep pain in his friend’s cobalt eyes as he was reliving the moment. “I know, babe,” the blond said in a soft, calm voice.

“The more I fought em, the more they wanted to hurt me. I didn’t think I’d get through the whipping, then he… raped me…”

Hutch stayed silent, letting his lover talk it out.

Starsky lifted his eyes to Hutch’s, then looked away again. “When he found out I had anal sex before—because I wasn’t very tight—he fucked me harder. Hutch,” he said, looking into his partner’s eyes. “He brutally raped me because you penetrated me the night before. He said he wanted it to hurt like I was a virgin.”

“Babe, are you sorry I did that? Are you sorry you’re in a relationship with me?”

The sapphire eyes looked into his lover’s sad, pale ones. “No. God, no Hutch! I’m not sorry at all. It’s just what happened, and I think because you did that, it wasn’t as bad as it would have been.”

Hutch remembered what Sammie had said, and he was glad his partner could see it that way too.

“Starsk, I remember you saying that because you weren’t a virgin, it wasn’t a big deal about you being raped. What did you mean by that?”

“Because it wasn’t like I never had a cock in my ass. I wasn’t a virgin, so raping a guy like me isn’t that big of a deal.”

“Jesus, babe, it is a big deal. It’s a very big deal. Do you think a woman who had intercourse and wasn’t a virgin can’t be raped?” The blond couldn’t believe his friend was feeling this way about being sexually assaulted.

“But a man is different. Most straight men don’t have anal sex, so it’s a really horrible experience for them.”

“Are you saying it wasn’t a horrible experience for you? To have a stranger fuck you against your will?” Hutch was becoming incensed by his lover’s illogical rationale.

“Hutch, you know it was. It was one of the worst things that ever happened to me.”

“Then, babe, please don’t lessen your experience because you weren’t a virgin. That makes no difference. Your experience was just as horrific as it would be for any other man.”

I always felt that Starsky thought less of himself because he was in a homosexual relationship with me. He didn’t want us to call ourselves gay. He thought of us as two straight men who fucked each other. Like society, he thought being gay wasn’t normal and, in some way, wrong. He liked to think the two of us having sex was just between us and not that we preferred men. We have this special relationship, unlike any other straight men. We were unique. I do agree that we have a special relationship and having sex is just between us, but at the same time, we shouldn’t see ourselves as less than.

The brunet looked away again. “And,” he continued, “while he was raping me, I kept thinking that he was ruining me for you. The only cock that was ever inside me was yours, and now this asshole has been inside me, and now I feel really dirty.”

Hutch kneeled down in front of his lover. “Babe, you can never be dirty, and that fucker hasn’t ruined you for me. That could never happen. If anything, it’s made me love you even more.”

Cobalt eyes looked confused. “Whadaya talkin’ about Hutch?”

“What happened to you has only made you stronger. Starsky, do you have any idea how strong you had to be to endure what they did to you? How strong you are. I’m so proud of you.”

“Proud of me, huh?”

“Yes—very.” The blond leaned up to kiss his lover’s mouth. It was a deep, passionate kiss—their first since that night Starsky left his apartment.

Starsky returned it just as passionately. When it broke, he combed his fingers into the silky golden locks. “Hutch, I love you so fuckin’ much. I would have never gotten through this without you.” He pulled the blond’s head to his chest, and Hutch wrapped strong arms around him.

They remained that way until they heard a growling sound. Hutch moved out of the embrace and looked strangely at Starsky. “Was that you?”

The brunet gave him a sheepish grin. “Yeah. Guess I’m hungry.” He glanced down at the plate of food Hutch had placed on the table.

Hutch followed his gaze. “That’s way cold by now,” he said, getting off his knees.

“I’m sorry, Hutch. You made a great breakfast, and now it’s ruined because I had to pick now to wanna talk.”

“Gordo, it’s not ruined.” Hutch grabbed the two plates and put them on the kitchen counter. “All I gotta do is heat em up.”

“How ya gonna do that?”

“Watch.” Hutch started going through the cabinets. “Do you have any metal pans, like a pie tin?”

“I don’t think so.”

“That’s okay; I’ll just wrap em in this.” Hutch unrolled two long sheets of aluminum foil and scraped the contents of one plate onto one and the other plate onto the other. After wrapping them tightly, he put the two packages of foil on the oven rack to let them heat up.

“Hey, that’s a great idea!” Starsky gave him a crooked grin, very impressed.

“Yeah, so they should be heated in about ten to fifteen minutes.”

Suddenly, the brunet became sullen.

“What’s the matter, babe? Whaddaya look so sad?”

“If this hadn’t happened to me, I could think of a way that we could have passed fifteen minutes,” Starsky said, smiling regretfully.

“Hey, we’ll be able to do that before you know it. Now we just have to wait a little, but just imagine what it’ll be like when you’re back in the saddle again.” The blond was beaming at the thought.

The brunet’s handsome face brightened. “Yeah, Blondie and I’m gonna ride you into next week.”

Hutch snorted. “And I can’t wait.”

They finished eating, and Hutch cleaned up the kitchen while Starsky remained at the table watching him, his chin on his palm. Once he was done, Hutch leaned back against the counter and turned to his curly-haired partner.

“Starsk, would you mind if I went to the station to give Dobey my report?”

“No. I’ll be fine.”

“It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Are you going to tell him what happened?”

“Yeah. I have to give him a statement protocol. Buddy, you know that.”

“Are you gonna tell him everything?” Starsky asked, a bit worried.

“No. I’ll give him the facts without going into too much detail, but he does know that what happened to you was too personal for you to be taken to the hospital.”

“I wouldn’t have to give a victim’s impact statement cause there won’t be a trial.”

“Right.”

Starsky blew out a relieved breath. “I’m glad, cause the last thing I want is for everybody to know.”

“Look, I’m gonna get ready. Do you need anything?”

Starsky rose from the table, placing a hand on it for support. “No. I’ll just watch some TV until you get back.” He slowly padded into the living room and looked down at what was once his favorite place to relax after a hard day of busting heads on the street.

As Hutch was walking back to the bedroom, he stood beside him with a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it might be better if you watched the TV in the bedroom.”

Starsky glanced at his partner, smiling. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”

Hutch put an arm around Starsky and walked him into the bedroom. The brunet stood next to his bed, trying to decide if he should try sitting on it.

Sensing his partner’s quandary, Hutch assured him. “Starsk, you had no trouble sitting on the chair, so the bed shouldn’t be a problem. If you find it uncomfortable, just get up.”

Starsky knew that was true. He’s already sat on the toilet seat and on the kitchen chair on a pillow. He wasn’t sure why sitting on the bed would be any different or painful. Maybe it was because he’d been lying on his stomach for so long that just the thought of lying on his back gave him anxiety, but he’d have to do it sometime.

He glanced at Hutch, then cautiously moved closer to the bed and turned around. Slowly, he bent his knees and lowered himself down onto the mattress. Not feeling any pain, he laid back and swung his legs on it.

The big blond thought Starsky looked like a vampire lying in a coffin. His body was so rigid. “Relax babe.” He smiled. “I think you’re good to go.”

Starsky gave Hutch a small smile and relaxed into the mattress, crossing his ankles and placing a hand behind his head.

“That’s it. Now what channel do you want?” Hutch started switching channels quickly, with barely a chance to see the show.

“Hutch, would ya slow down? I can hardly see anything.”

“Okay, sorry.” When he slowed down, Starsky had him stop on “Laverne and Shirley.”

Once his partner seemed to be settled, Hutch proceeded to get dressed. He shed his sweats and padded naked into the bathroom to take a quick shower. He had no idea that his lover was ogling his ass as he went inside.

Starsky once again had a forlorn look on his face at the realization that he couldn’t do anything about his lust for his partner. He was glad he was able to give him at least a blow job the night before, but being able to fuck that ass was out of the question right now. He focused on the TV until the blond came out of the bathroom with a towel around his narrow hips and rubbed another one on his head.

“Hey. What’s with the towel?”

Hutch looked at his lover and saw a lecherous expression. “Starsk, you know I’m not one for parading around naked.”

“Why can’t ya throw your poor old convalescent partner a bone, huh?” Starsky put on his best sad puppy expression, including a pout.

“Do you mean a boner?” Hutch asked in jest.

“Sure. Why not?”

“So you want me to put on a show for you?”

“Yeah. That would be terrific!” Starsky’s face lit up with a wide grin.

Already, Hutch could feel his face reddening. After all this time being lovers, the blond was still a bit shy when it came to doing things like this in front of the brunet. Starsky, on the other hand, would always give him impromptu strip teases, which he was very good at. Whenever he attempted them, he always felt awkward and stupid, but this time he felt he owed it to his partner to give it his best shot.

“Starsk, you know I’m supposed to go in to do the report,” he said, trying to make one more attempt to get out of it.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Then there’s no hurry, Blondie, so let’s get to it.”

Hutch threw the towel he was drying his hair with toward that bathroom, then blew out his cheeks. Well, here goes nothin.

Just as he was about to undo the towel, Starsky stopped him. “Wait a minute.”

The blond looked at his partner in surprise. “What? I haven’t even gotten started yet.”

“I know you’re not comfortable doin this, so how about I tell you want to do?” Starsky suggested, nodding enthusiastically.

Hutch wasn’t so sure about this. He knew his partner had a mischievous side. The blond didn’t want to do anything more mortifying than what he was already about to do.

He gave the brunet a wary expression. “I don’t know about that, Starsk. Are you gonna embarrass me?”

“What embarrass? Besides, it’s just us. You’re not performing in front of a crowd of sex-starved women or men.” He winked.

The blond sighed again. “Okay. Whaddaya want me to do?”

“Go stand in front of the dresser.”

Hutch did as he was told and looked to his partner for more instruction.

After contemplating it, Starsky instructed, “Pinch your nipples…hard.”

The blond put his thumb and index finger on each nipple, tweaking them until he made himself moan.

“Now, put your right hand under the towel and fondle your junk, while your left hand alternates between pinching both nipples.”

Starsky watched as his lover’s hand moved beneath the towel, arousing himself.

Okay, now come here and stand next to the bed, near me.”

He padded to the side of the bed, awaiting further instruction.

“Now turn your back to me and drop the towel. After that, I want you to stick out your ass and spread your cheeks.”

Hutch had to pause. This was getting really humiliating.

“Go ahead,” the brunet urged, sensing his lover’s apprehension.

The blond opened the towel and dropped it on the floor, then spread his cheeks, exposing his asshole.

After getting the KY from the nightstand, Starsky squeezed some on his index finger and knelt on his mattress. He pushed against the tiny puckered hole, then let his finger sink deep inside.

Starsky smiled at the moan he elicited from his lover and added another finger, twisting them inside the narrow canal. He searched for the sensitive prostate and knew he had found it when the blond let out a loud groan. He touched the spot a few more times, looking up at him each time and seeing his blissful expression.

“Let go of your ass and spread your legs.”

Hutch widened his stance and leaned on his knees. Immediately, he felt Starsky reach between his legs from behind to fondle his balls and stroke his perineum.

“Oh man,” Hutch moaned as his sensitive sacs were rolled in his lover’s hand.

“Okay, now turn around.”

Obeying, Hutch turned and showed off his semi-erect organ.

“That needs to grow a little more,” Starsky stated. “I want you to make yourself hard.”

Hutch’s blue eyes were wide. He had only masturbated in front of his lover once, and he found it to be one of the most embarrassing things he’d ever done sexually. And that’s including the time Starsky made him wear a butt plug in his ass with a tail on the end, then prance around like a horse.

Starsky saw the look of fear in the blond’s sky-blue eyes. “Come on, Blintz. I know you can do it. Just go wherever you want in the room where you’ll be comfortable. And close your eyes if you have to, but I’d like you to be lookin at me while you’re doing it.”

He gave Starsky a small smile, then glanced around the room. When he saw the armchair, he decided that would be as good a place as any. He padded over and lifted the chair to put it closer to the bed. Hutch didn’t want his lover to have any trouble seeing his performance.

Once he sat his bare behind on the seat, Hutch spread his strong, long legs wide, then took hold of his member and began stroking it. He wanted to close his eyes, but he remembered Starsky saying he preferred them open, so the blond kept them on his lover as his fist moved languidly up and down his hardening shaft.

The brunet’s eyes were locked on his, but at times he lowered them to watch the blond’s hand on his big, hardening cock. He remembered it being a lot easier to masturbate with lotion or some kind of lube, so Starsky threw him the KY jelly.

“Here, babe, this will make it a lot easier.”

The blond caught it with his left hand. “Thanks,” he said somewhat shyly, then released his dick to squeeze some of the gel into his palm. After making himself slick, he resumed jerking off.

Starsky watched mesmerized as his lover pleasured himself for his eyes only. A fine shine of sweat was forming on the fair skin, making it look luminous. He knew this was a special moment because Hutch wasn’t comfortable masturbating with anyone watching—even him. As he continued to look on, the blond’s thick shaft grew, turning deep red. His sky-blue eyes were hooded with arousal as they remained on the face of his curly-headed lover.

Soon Hutch was panting, with his mouth gaping open as if he were having trouble catching his breath. He was moaning non-stop, and his hips were bucking up and down on the seat. It seemed like his previous inhibitions were fading away as he took the liberty to insert a finger into his anus with his other hand.

The dark-haired man was quickly feeling the effects of his lover’s erotic show. His arousal was increasing and his cock was stiffening, so he untied his pants, freeing them. As he began to stroke himself, he watched his lover doing the same.

The quiet of the room was disturbed by moaning and fapping sounds, and they managed to keep their eyes on each other. This made their mutual masturbation even more intense. But as Hutch was nearing orgasm, he could no longer maintain that connection with his partner, needing to shut his eyes tight and throw his head back. His hand moved rapidly on his cock, desperately seeking release.

Starsky wasn’t far behind. He too had to break eye contact as he was quickly nearing his completion. It had become a race to their orgasmic crescendos, but when the brunet sensed his lover was about to reach his, he opened his eyes to bear witness.

With a few more hard strokes, Hutch cried out—semen squirting in the air onto his chest and belly. As he milked all that he had from his softening phallus, the blond opened his eyes and glanced at his lover. The brunet looked close to his own release, and Hutch watched intently. This was a rare chance to see his lover in ecstasy as he pushed himself to completion.

As the brunet feverishly worked on his cock, he began to moan and bite his lower lip. He shut his eyes again, and the handsome face grimaced as if in pain, and Hutch wondered if he was since his hips were bucking on the mattress. After a few more seconds, he groaned, shooting his load all over his chest. Once the tremors subsided, Starsky laid back, totally spent.

“Hey, you,” Hutch called out.

Starsky raised his head. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“I’m terrific. How bout you?”

“I’m great. That was really somethin’, huh?” Hutch stated, grinning broadly and leaning back with his legs still spread wide and his limp cock resting against his thigh.

“It sure was. I can’t remember us ever doin that before,” the brunet realized, leaning up on his elbows.

“That’s cause we haven’t. I’m not one for masturbating in front of anyone, remember? But I do recall you doin it a few times.” Hutch grinned, observing him. “Did any of that hurt?”

“I’m feelin’ a little sore now, but while I was doin it, I didn’t feel a thing.”

“That’s good. I was afraid all that thrashing would be painful. It seems to me that you’re pretty much back in business.” The blond beamed.

“If you mean that I’m back in the saddle, then you’re gonna have to wait, Blondie—that took a lot out of me.”

“Me too. And there’s no rush.” Hutch glanced down at his naked body with cum on his chest and belly. “Looks like I’m gonna have to take another shower.”

Starsky leaned forward to get a closer look. “I think all you’ll need is a wet washcloth.”

“Ya think so?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” The blond got up and padded to the bathroom.

Starsky looked down at himself, noticing there was cum all over his belly and the front of his drawstring pants. “Hey Hutch! Can you…”

Just as he was about to ask for a washcloth for himself, Hutch exited the bathroom with one. “Here,” he said, throwing the damp cloth at him.

After catching it, the brunet thanked him and proceeded to clean himself. “Shit. I should have removed my pajamas. There’s cum all over it,” he said, wiping at the stains.

“Just change ’em,” Hutch said, then glanced at the clock. “Damn, it’s after noon. I need to get down to the station.” He quickly threw on some clothes, then looked back at his lover. “Ya need some help changing into another pair of pajama bottoms?”

“Nah. I can do it.” Starsky swung his legs to the floor and stood, feeling a little weak from his orgasm.

“Okay, if you’re sure, you’re good. I’m gonna get going… and Starsky?”

The brunet looked at his partner. “Yeah?”

“Do not, and I repeat, do not leave this apartment, is that clear?” Hutch’s face couldn’t be more serious, with his blue eyes showing intent.

“Yes, sir,” he said, saluting.

“I mean it, Starsk.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll stay right here, and don’t forget to send my love to the cap’,” the brunet said, blowing a kiss.

Hutch gave him an exasperated expression, then grabbed his car keys. “If anything happens or you need to get a hold of me, call the station, and they’ll put me through.”

“Okay Mom.” Starsky grinned.

After shaking his blond head and giving the brunet a small smile, he went out the door. Even though Starsky seemed a lot better, he was still worried about leaving him alone so soon after the assault. But he figured it shouldn’t take that long to make his report, and then he’d be able to get back to his lover.

As soon as Hutch had shut the door, Starsky padded over to the dresser and pulled out another pair of pajama bottoms. He carefully stepped out of the soiled ones and was about to step into the clean ones when he paused. He realized that he hadn’t taken a shower this morning. It would be the first time he was doing it alone, but since he was feeling pretty good with not much pain, Starsky figured it shouldn’t be a problem. So he went into the bathroom and stepped into the stall.

***S&H***

Hutch arrived at the precinct, hoping that Dobey wasn’t taking a late lunch. After exiting the elevator, he strode toward the squad room and pushed open the door. Dobey’s door was closed, so he knocked and waited to be called in.

“Come in.” Dobey announced, looking up at the fair-haired detective. “It’s about time. How’s Starsky?”

“He’s doin a lot better, cap’.”

“Good. Sit down.”

Hutch took one of the two chairs in front of Dobey’s desk—the one he usually takes beside his partner. Then he glanced at the empty chair, feeling the brunet’s absence.

“So give it to me,” Dobey said, shutting the file he was reading so he could pay attention to his detective.

“Well, when I got to Starsky’s place, I went inside, and two men were there. One was holding a gun on Starsky, and the other one held one on me.”

The big man leaned on his desk, clasping his hands. “Go on.”

“When Bernie showed up, we got the drop on them, and they were killed in an exchange of gunfire. He shot one, and I shot the other.”

“Did you recognize these men?”

“Only one. He looked familiar, and soon he told me that he was the twin of a perp Starsky had taken down about four months ago.”

Dobey sat back in his chair and crossed his arms on his large belly, with a distinct frown on his face. “Is that all?”

Hutch nodded, but his captain knew that wasn’t the whole story. “Hutchinson, you’re not telling me everything.”

The blond blinked innocently. “That’s what happened, cap’.”

“You told me Starsky was injured and you couldn’t take him to the hospital; why?

“Sir, I believe I told you on the phone that it was too personal.”

“Yeah, ya did, and what’s that supposed to mean?” Dobey asked in his usual annoyed tone.

Hutch looked away as he thought about how he should answer that without giving too much away.

“Hutchinson, spit it out! I don’t have all day!” Dobey shouted, exasperated.

“He was assaulted,” Hutch stated, bringing his blue eyes up to meet brown ones.

Dobey kept his frown as he tried to get the story out of his detective. “What do you mean assaulted?”

After sighing, he realized there was no way around telling him. “Cap’, Starsky was whipped with a belt, and one of the men assaulted him… sexually.”

The chestnut eyes widened in disbelief. The word rape wasn’t mentioned, but by the look on Hutch’s face, he was sure that’s what happened. Dobey knew now why Starsky couldn’t be taken to the hospital. Having this get-out would be horrible for his curly-haired detective. It’s understandable that Hutch wanted to keep it a secret to protect his partner, and the big man would do what he could to make sure it happened.

An awkward silence filled the room as both men tried to come to terms with this horrible situation. Dobey shook his head, sighed, and then glanced at Hutch. His earlier stern demeanor softened, and he asked sympathetically, “And you say he’s doin a lot better?”

“Yes sir. You know, Starsky, he’s not gonna let anything keep him down for long,” Hutch said, with pride for his friend.

“Yeah, I know. He can be really stubborn sometimes, but in times like this, it’s a good thing.” A rare smile appeared on his chubby face.

“Yes, it is. Cap, Bernie, and I agreed that Starsky should be left out of the official report for his own sake.”

“I noticed that his report didn’t mention Starsky.”

“No, sir, and we hoped that you’d be okay with this omission.” Hutch looked at his captain with hopeful ocean blue eyes.

Dobey sat back and watched the anguished features of one of the finest officers the precinct ever had. He was one half of a dynamic duo, and when one was suffering or in trouble, the other would be right there with him. This situation would definitely be problematic for Starsky, and he’d already suffered enough. Plus, there wouldn’t be a trial because the two assailants were dead, so there’s no reason to involve him.

“Okay, we’ll leave him out of it. All the report needs is to state the facts of the intruder’s deaths, and I believe Officer Glassman stated that their intent was probably robbery.”

“Yes sir.” Hutch nodded in agreement, and after another uncomfortable silence, he said, “Captain, if there isn’t anything else, I’d like to write up my report and get back to Starsky,” he stated, rising from the chair.

“All right, get out there,” Dobey ordered with a wave of his hand. “And have it on my desk before the end of the day… Oh, and Hutch,” Dobey continued. “Send him my regards and tell him I want to see his butt back here soon.” The big man produced another smile for the blond detective.

“For a moment, Hutch almost told him that Starsky sent his love, but thought better of it and just smiled. “Will do, cap’.”

Hutch left Dobey’s office and went to sit behind his desk. He looked across at Starsky’s. It was strange not to see his animated chatterbox of a partner there, but he knew he’d be back soon enough. He was so relieved that Starsky was recovering so well. Smiling at the thought, Hutch reached in his desk draw and took out a sheet of typing paper and loaded it into the typewriter. As he began to formulate what he would include in his report, he was relieved that Dobey agreed to leave Starsky out of it. Like the rotund black man said, the report had to include the facts that explained the deaths of the two ass-holes that were killed, so that’s what Hutch intended to do.

 

Chapter Six

Starsky managed to take his shower without incident. He knew a hot shower was still out of the question, so he made sure the water temperature wasn’t too hot and let the warm spray wash over him. Once he was done, the brunet stepped out of the stall and dried himself with a bath towel, letting his butt and thighs air dry.

He realized that he hadn’t seen the results of the whipping, so Starsky turned his back to the mirror above the sink and glanced over his shoulder. He wasn’t able to see much below the waist, so he padded naked into his bedroom and stood in front of the full-length mirror on his closet door.

When he saw his lower body, Starsky’s eyes widened at the sight. The area from the top of his buttocks to just above the back of his knees was covered with angry red marks. They still appeared to be quite raw and he figured it might be due to the warm water, but they looked a lot worse than he thought they would. Even though he felt better he was still sore, especially after sitting but the pain was nowhere near what it was just a few days ago. And despite the subsiding pain, it seems the unsightly lacerations would remain.

Starsky turned away from the mirror and gingerly slid his pajamas up, then glanced at his reflection. He didn’t look like someone who had gone through an assault that would have had most men hide from the world in shame and self-loathing. He had to admit it probably was partly due to his indomitable spirit and the fact that he had Hutch. Without his partner, Starsky knew he wouldn’t be recovering this well, but after seeing the visual evidence of his assault, the brunet knew that he wasn’t going to get over this as soon as he’d hoped- if at all. He’ll definitely have permanent scars…scars that his lover would see every time they made love.

Every time he made love to me and fucked me. Every time he rimmed me. Hutch would always be reminded of what happened to me. Many times he’s said that I had an amazing ass, but now it will be ugly and disgusting…forever.

***S&H***

Hutch left the precinct and made a stop at Starsky’s favorite chili dog stand. He ordered one with the works for his partner and a plain one for himself. He drove back to Starsky’s place and raced upstairs. After announcing his arrival, he used his key to open the door and as soon as it opened, he saw the brunet sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey, Starsk! I bought ya one of your favorites! A chili dog with everything!” Hutch shouted as he shut the door and walked to the table, putting down the bag. He looked at Starsky, noticing his sullen expression.

“Starsk? Buddy? You okay?” Hutch sat down on the chair closest to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Slowly Starsky turned his head to look at his lover, meeting his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“How bad it was.”

Hutch frowned in confusion. “Babe, I don’t understand.”

“My ass and thighs. Why didn’t you tell me how bad they were?” the brunet asked, with pain in his voice.

It was obvious Starsky had seen his wounds. Hutch couldn’t tell him the extent of them while he was going through so much after the assault. Telling him would have made him feel worse and that was the last thing Hutch wanted to do to his suffering partner.

“Starsk, ah…” Hutch said, trying to find the words.

The brunet stared at him, searching his face for the answers. “You didn’t tell me and neither did Sammie.”

“Starsky, don’t bring Sammie into this. She was treating you and tried to tell you as much as she could about your condition.”

“Well at least she tried- you made it seem like I was doin’ okay.”

“Starsky, you were doin’ okay.”

“No Hutch. I’m not doin okay. My ass and thighs are fucked up. Why didn’t you tell me that?” The dark blue eyes were filled with hurt and disappointment.

The blond rubbed the back of his neck and blew out his cheeks. “I just didn’t want to tell you while you were recovering. I didn’t want to make you feel worse.”

Starsky became quiet, then said in a low voice, “I looked at em and didn’t think they’d still look this bad, cause I wasn’t in a lot of pain anymore. Now it looks like the scars will never go away.”

“Starsk, you need to give it time. You’re still healing. When you’re all healed up, I’m sure they’ll eventually fade away and it’ll be like they were never there.”

He looked into the pale blue eyes, with unshed tears.

“You don’t know that for sure, do ya? For all you know, I’ll have these horrible, ugly scars on my ass for the rest of my life. A constant reminder of what happened to me. How could you ever…?” Starsky’s gaze shifted to the table top, not able to bear the look on his lover’s face as he told him the reality- that he wouldn’t be desirable to him anymore.

His eyes met Hutch’s once more. “They look so ugly Hutch. How could you ever wanna… fuck me again?”

The blond saw an errant tear slide down the dark-haired man’s cheek. He cupped the sides of his face with both hands and wiped it away with his thumb. “Starsk, babe, please…please don’t go there. Your ass will always be beautiful to me.”

Starsky got up from the table, breaking contact with his lover. He walked to the kitchen window and stared out. “I know you’re just sayin that Hutch. They’re gonna be scars, fuckin’ ugly scars!” he shouted, slamming his hands on the edge of the sink.

Hutch got up from the table and stood behind, wrapping his arms around him. “Starsk, please, you gotta believe me. I love all of you—every scar that’s on that gorgeous body of yours.”

He turned Starsky around so he’d be facing him, then bent down and kissed the three scars on his chest—souvenirs from Gunther.

“This one,” the blond whispered, kissing the first scar. “And this one.” He kissed the second one, then moved onto the third. “And I love this one most of all.” He kissed, then licked the final one which was near his heart.

After straightening up, Hutch looked into Starsky’s sapphire eyes. “Now, turn around,” he ordered in a loving soft voice.

As the brunet complied, Hutch grasped the slender hips assisting him. Once Starsky was facing the sink, the blond knelt down and carefully lowered the cotton pajama bottoms, exposing Starsky’s naked marred butt-cheeks and thighs.

“Whaddaya doin’?” he asked, looking down over his shoulder at Hutch.

“This.” The blond began kissing each of Starsky’s welts.

“Hutch, no, you don’t have to…”

Gazing up, Hutch uttered, “Shhh.” Then resumed giving love to all of his lover’s abrasions. After covering both cheeks, Hutch moved down to each battered thigh.

Starsky leaned on the edge of the sink and closed his eyes, as he drifted away on the heavenly sensations of his lover’s soft, tender kisses.

Once he had given loving attention to all of the lacerations, Hutch pulled the brunet’s pajamas back up, and embraced him, nuzzling his neck.

“Do you know how much I love you, Gordo? I love every single part of you and that means all of your perfect imperfections.” He kissed the side of Starsky’s face, then moved to his neck, breathing in the soft curls.

Starsky bent his head to give his lover access to the sensitive skin behind his ear. He moaned softly as Hutch continued to kiss his way along the bare muscular shoulders.

The brunet turned in Hutch’s arms facing him. He grasped the sides of his lover’s face with both hands stilling him, then plunged his tongue deep into the blond’s hungry mouth.

Their kiss was deep and passionate, as tongues aggressively explored each other’s mouths, giving rise to moans of pleasure. But Starsky needed to stop abruptly. His sore butt was being pressed against the front of the sink, causing pain. He moved his head back and out of the kiss. “Hutch, babe, we gotta stop.”

Hutch blinked. “Why? What’s wrong?”

After gently pushing Hutch backward, Starsky leaned off the sink, then glanced down and touched it. “This was kinda hurtin’.”

Alarm came across Hutch’s face. “God Starsk. I’m so sorry. Let me see if there’s any harm done.” He turned Starsky around, but the brunet wouldn’t allow it and moved away.

“No Hutch, I’m fine.” Starsky walked past him to the living room and stood in front of the couch, staring down at it.

Hutch looked over at the couch and knew it had to go. It was a constant reminder of Starsky’s violent attack. He went to stand next to his lover with an arm around his shoulder. “Whaddaya say we get rid of it?”

Starsky looked at him. “Then what am I gonna sit on?”

“We’ll get ya another one, dummy.”

The dark-haired man looked at it again, sighing. “I guess so, but I really liked this couch,” he admitted forlornly.

Hutch heard the despair in his friend’s voice. “But I’m sure you’re gonna like the new one just as much,” he said cheerfully, squeezing the back of his neck, gently shaking him.

The brunet shrugged and padded toward his bedroom. “I’m feelin’ a little tired. I’m gonna lie down for a minute.”

Hutch followed him and stood in the doorway. He watched as he climbed on the bed and laid in a fetal position, facing away from the door.

“Starsk, are ya hungry? I bought you a chili dog with everything.”

“No thanks.”

As he looked at his dejected lover, Hutch began to absorb his pain. He felt a deep sense of sorrow for what his partner, friend and lover had gone through. He wanted nothing more than to take away that pain- to turn back time to where this never happened. While his physical wounds were healing, Starsky’s emotional ones would take a lot longer.

***S&H***

While Starsky was sulking in his bedroom, Hutch decided to call Sammie. He punched in the hospital’s number and was connected to the nurse’s station.

“Memorial Hospital. How may I help you?”

“Yes. This is Detective Hutchinson. I’d like to speak with Dr. Samantha Mason.”

“Just a moment.”

Hutch kept glancing at the bedroom as he waited for her to come back on the phone.

“Are you still there sir?”

“Yes. I’m here.”

“Dr. Mason’s with a patient. If you leave me a number where you can be reached, I’ll have her return your call.”

“She has it. Just let her know I called. Thank you.”

Hutch hung up the phone and stood in the kitchen, then looked down at the bag of now cold hot dogs on the table. He was hungry even if his partner wasn’t. A cold hot dog didn’t sound very appetizing, so he switched on the oven, wrapped his dog in foil, and placed it on the oven rack. Then he glanced again at Starsky’s bedroom. He knew even though the brunet was sulking, he was probably hungry…he always was…so Hutch decided to wrap his in foil too and place it alongside his in the oven. If anything the smell might lure him out.

He waited 10 minutes hoping that the hot dogs would at least be warm. As he was taking them out the oven, Hutch heard movement behind him. When he looked back, his curly headed lover was approaching.

“Hey buddy. Did ya get some rest?” he asked, putting each of the foil wrapped hot dogs on plates.

Starsky shrugged, and sat at the table on the pillow. “Is one of those mine?”

“Yep.” Hutch placed Starsky’s in front of him. “I hope it’s hot enough,” he said, placing his on the table and going to the fridge. “Ya want something to drink? I bought some more root beer.”

“Yeah, sure.” Starsky began to unwrap his chili dog.

After taking out a bottle of root beer and regular beer for himself, Hutch sat down and started unwrapping his, then watched Starsky take a bite.

“Is it hot enough? I can pop it back in the oven.”

“No it’s good,” the brunet answered around a mouth full.

They sat in silence while eating their meal. Hutch noticed that even though Starsky was consuming the chili dog, he wasn’t doing so with his usual gusto. The blond observed him for a while, until Starsky was aware of it.

“What?” he asked, pausing to look at Hutch.

“Nothin’. You enjoying the dog? I got everything you like on it.”

“Yeah. I said it was good,” Starsky replied, sounding irritated.

The blond’s blue eyes were soft and caring as he regarded his friend. “Starsk. What’s wrong? Ya wanna talk about it?”

The dark blue eyes shifted from his hot dog to his concerned partner. “What’s there to talk about Hutch?”

Hutch shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe why you’re so upset?”

Starsky snorted. “Why I’m so upset? Do I really need to explain that to you?” The brunet’s simmering anger and frustration were reaching a boiling point.

“Starsk, calm down. I just want to know if you wanna talk about the way you’re feeling right now.”

“Okay Mr. Shrink. Ya wanna know how I’m feelin’, then I’ll tell ya how I’m feelin’.” Starsky got up from the table so he could pace. “I’m fuckin’ pissed! Those mother fuckers came into my place and fucked me up. They fucked my ass and ripped it up! And now I gotta get rid of my damn couch because every time I see it I’ll be reminded of all the shit they did to me on it! I can’t even sit on my ass Yes, comfortably and I’m sick and tired of being in this fuckin’ apartment!”

Hutch stayed seated at the table and watched his partner’s ranting with sympathetic eyes.

When his tirade ended, Starsky let out a sigh and stood in the living room, looking lost. He wanted to go somewhere. No, he needed to go somewhere, but there were so few places he could go to escape in his small apartment. When he was feeling pent up, he usually went for a run. But knowing he wouldn’t even be able to do that, Starsky continued to pace in his living room, raking his hand through his curls, extremely agitated.

Suddenly, he stopped and walked back to the table. “Hutch, I gotta get outta here. I can’t take it. I’m goin bat-shit crazy. Please, I gotta get outta here. Just for a little while,” the brunet implored.

Just then the phone rang and they both looked toward it. Starsky punched his fist into his right palm in anger at the intrusion and resumed pacing, while Hutch answered it.

“Hello.”

“Hutch, it’s Sammie. What’s happening? Is Starsky okay?”

Hutch glanced at his partner. “He’s going stir crazy.”

Walking toward Hutch, the brunet asked, “Is that Sammie? Tell her I’m losing it and I need to get outta here.”

“Did you hear that?” Hutch asked her.

“Yes. How’s he feeling otherwise? How are his wounds?”

“They look pretty much healed and he’s not in much pain, just sore.”

“Have you been applying the antibacterial ointment?”

“Yes. I applied it yesterday, but not today.”

“Well, it sounds to me like he’s feeling a lot better, so there’s no reason why he shouldn’t go out if he wants. Just make sure he’s wearing loose pants sans underwear. We don’t want to irritate his still sensitive skin.”

“Okay.” Hutch smiled at the brunet, nodding.

“What? What did she say?” Starsky asked with hopeful blue eyes.

He moved the receiver away from his face. “She said if you’re feeling up to it, there’s no reason why you can’t go out, but you need to find some loose pants.”

“Terrific!” he shouted, dashing into his bedroom.

“Well, you made a particular curly headed cop very happy.” Then Hutch continued, “Sammie, he’s been really concerned about scars. Is there anything that’ll make em fade?”

“Yes. You can apply aloe vera gel twice a day. You can buy it over the counter at the pharmacy.”

“That’s great.”

“Huuutch!”

“He’s callin’ me. I should go. I’ll pick up that gel and start putting it on him. Thanks again, Sammie.”

“Huuuutch!!”

“You’re welcome. Let me know how he’s doing. I’ll drop by when I get the chance.”

Hutch hung up the phone and looked back to see his persistent lover standing in the doorway of his bedroom. “Hutch, I can’t find any loose pants.”

The blond wasn’t at all surprised. His lover enjoyed wearing tight jeans to show off his magnificent behind, so he didn’t own a pair of sweats. He followed Starsky back into the bedroom.

“I can’t wear my jeans, and all I have are pajama bottoms. Ya think I could go out in these?” Starsky pulled out the leg of the pajamas for emphasis.

“I have a better idea.” Hutch pulled out a pair of his sweatpants from his drawer and handed them to Starsky. “Here put these on and no underwear.”

After taking the pants, Starsky removed his pajamas, then stepped into the sweatpants. He pulled them up and noticed that they were a little long.

“I think they need to be cuffed.”

“Hold on.” Hutch knelt down and rolled up each leg, then straightened. “Now let’s get you a shirt.” He went to Starsky’s dresser to pick out one for his partner.

Starsky grabbed his arm. “Thanks Hutch, but I can get my own shirt.”

He took out a red t-shirt and pulled it over his head. After slipping on his Adidas without socks, he walked to the door and placed his hand on the knob.

“Hey wait up,” Hutch called, coming up behind him.

“Hutch, you don’t need to come with me. I’m just goin for a walk.”

“I thought you’d like some company.” The blond smiled.

Starsky pulled the door open and looked back. “No thanks.”

When he stepped over the threshold Hutch grabbed his arm. “Starsky wait, please.”

“Why? You don’t think I can go out alone? Those fuckers are dead, so they’re not gonna attack me again and I can walk on my own now.”

“It’s not that. Sammie told me about something that will help fade your scars.”

Starsky’s scowl disappeared and his eyes brightened. “There’s something that will get rid of em? Really?”

“Yeah. She said it’s Aloe vera gel. I think there’s a pharmacy near here, right?”

“Uh, huh. About two blocks away.”

“I thought since I need to go get it, we could walk there together.”

Even though Hutch needed to get the gel, this was a ploy to go out with his partner. It wasn’t that the big blond didn’t think Starsky could go out by himself, Hutch just wanted to make sure he’d be okay. He was still in full protective mode after all his friend had been through.

“Okay, terrific. Let’s go.” Starsky eagerly went out the door, with Hutch shutting and locking it behind them.

As they trekked to the pharmacy, Hutch kept glancing at the brunet. He made a point not to walk too fast, but Starsky still walked a step behind.

“How ya doin buddy?”

“I’m okay,” he replied, sounding a bit winded as he tried to keep up with the leggy blond.

Starsky hadn’t walked much since the assault, and it was obvious he didn’t have much stamina.

“Let me know if you need to stop for a minute.”

“Hutch, I said I’m okay,” he said, a little annoyed.

After finishing a block, Hutch noticed his partner was lagging behind even more, so he stopped and waited for the brunet to catch up. As Starsky was coming toward him, Hutch noticed he looked uncomfortable and was pulling the fabric away from his butt.

“Babe, what’s the matter?”

“They’re rubbing a little, but I’m fine. Let’s go.” Starsky moved off again, with Hutch following him this time.

When they made it to the pharmacy, Hutch started looking for aloe vera gel, while Starsky stopped at the magazine section and thumbed through the latest issue of Wrestling Monthly.

After searching the aisle and not seeing it, Hutch went up to a counter to ask. A petite teenage girl with blonde hair was reading a glamour magazine; no doubt belonging to the store. She looked up as Hutch appeared before her. The girl’s green eyes brightened as she took in the tall, handsome man.

“May I help you, sir?” she beamed.

“Yes. Can you tell me where the Aloe vera gel is?”

“It should be on aisle fifteen with the other lotions and creams. I’ll take you there.” The girl strode in front of Hutch to the appropriate aisle and searched the shelves for the gel. When the sales girl found it, she handed it to the fair-haired man. “This one is good.”

Hutch read the label and agreed. “Sounds good. I’ll take it.”

“Follow me sir, and I’ll ring you up.”

As Hutch followed the girl, he glanced around for his partner, not seeing him. He paid her, then watched as she gave him the change and placed the jar into a small paper bag.

“Thank you, sir. Please come again,” she said, handing him the sack with a broad smile.

Hutch smiled back at her and started roaming the aisles to find his wayward lover. After looking down at each one, he finally found him where the snacks were. I should have known, he thought.

“Starsk, I’ve been looking all over the store for you.” He noticed the snacks the brunet was holding- a bag of potato chips, two candy bars and a magazine under his arm.

“I was gettin some snacks.”

“I see that.” Hutch snorted, shaking his head.

Starsky sauntered off and went up to the same sales girl. “Hi, I wanna get these,” he said, laying them all on the counter.

The girl’s eyes danced at the sight of the handsome curly-haired man as she rang up his goodies. Hutch came to his side, pulling out his wallet to pay. Once the transaction was done, the girl handed Hutch the receipt and placed the items in the bag. When she handed the bag to him, Starsky intercepted, snatching it away.

“Thanks.” Starsky gave the girl a charming smile and turned away from the counter as she told the both of them to come back soon.

When they were outside, Starsky immediately reached into the bag and extracted one candy bar. He tore off part of the wrapper and took a big bite as he started back to his apartment, with Hutch following him. As they got closer to his place, Starsky began to fidget.

Hutch realized the fabric must be irritating his abrasions, but he decided not to say anything this time and would take a look once they got back to the apartment.

Starsky squirmed as he waited impatiently for Hutch to open the door. As soon as it was, the brunet rushed past him, dropped the bag on the coffee table and started rubbing his backside.

“Jesus, Hutch, my ass is burning and really itchy.” Starsky needed to lay his hands on his agonizing flesh to get some relief. He shoved down the sweats, stepped out of them, and kicked the offending garment to the side. Then he began to rub the irritated skin frantically.

“Starsk don’t! You’re going to make things worse!” Hutch yelled, grabbing his hands.

“No Hutch! Let me rub it, please!”

“Starsk, stop. Go lie down and let me put the Aloe vera on you. If you rub or scratch the skin, the abrasions won’t continue to heal and become more irritated.”

“Okay Hutch, but please hurry up.” Starsky dashed into his bedroom in only his shirt and sneakers and laid down on his stomach.

After taking the jar of gel out of the bag, Hutch hurried into the bedroom and unscrewed the lid, taking out a dollop.

Starsky’s butt-cheeks were twitching as he tried to get some relief. He placed both hands on his butt and jiggled the firm globes.

“Starsk, I told you not to rub your ass. Stop.”

“I’m not rubbing it. I’m just shakin’ it to stop the itch and burn.”

“Move your hands please.”

Once Starsky complied, Hutch saw how red and irritated the skin looked. He moved the shirt out of the way, then immediately spread the soothing gel over both cheeks.

“Ahh, that feels so good,” Starsky moaned into his folded arms.

Hutch dipped his finger into the jar again and spread the gel across the backs of his thighs. When he was done, Hutch straightened and screwed the lid back on the jar.

“Feel better?”

“Oh yeah. Thank you. I love you!”

Hutch chuckled. “You’re welcome and I love you too mush-brain.” He leaned down and kissed the brunet’s lips.

“What does it look like?” Starsky asked, propping his chin on his hand.

“It’s very red. Looks like the skin became inflamed because it was rubbing against the fabric of the sweatpants.”

“Christ. Am I ever gonna be able to wear pants again?”

“Of course you are Gordo. I’m just sorry I had you walk to the pharmacy with me. I think it was too far,” the blond admitted, guiltily.

“It’s not your fault, Hutch. I wanted to go.”

“Babe, you just gotta give yourself more time to fully heal. And the next time you’re feeling stir crazy, you could just walk around the block, okay?”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone.”

“Okay. Great. So how long do I have to lie here?”

Hutch read the back of the jar. “Well, it says leave it on for five to ten minutes, then you can rinse it off in the shower.”

“Let’s time it so I don’t have to lie here any longer than necessary,” Starsky stated.

Hutch glanced at the clock on Starsky’s nightstand and checked the time. “I think you should leave it on for ten minutes to make sure it gets absorbed.”

Starsky sighed and reluctantly agreed, then laid his head on his folded arms.

“Are you hungry? I can fix you something,” the blond stated, leaning in the doorway.

Starsky turned his head in Hutch’s direction. “No, just bring me the bag of snacks.”

Hutch went to the living rooms and brought back the bag, handing it to him.

“Thanks.” He took out the bag of chips and tried to tear it open from his position on the bed, but it was difficult.

“Lemme have it.” Hutch took the bag from him and tore it open, then handed it back.

“Thanks Blondie.” He pulled out a chip and threw it into his mouth, savoring the taste, then offered the bag to his partner.

“No thanks, babe. All for you.”

The brunet shrugged and popped another one in his mouth, crunching loudly.

“Do you want me to turn on the TV?” Hutch asked, moving to turn it on, knowing he would probably say yes.

“No.”

Hutch glanced back at Starsky, surprised.

“Could ya sing somethin’?”

Hutch smiled at the hopeful look in his lover’s eyes. “Sure. Let me get my guitar.” He went into the living room and walked over to the balcony doors, where his guitar was leaning against the desk. Starsky had given him a guitar for Christmas one year and since he had already replaced the one crazy Diane destroyed, he decided to keep this one at Starsky’s place.

He carried it into the bedroom and sat on the chair. He crossed his legs and propped the guitar on his knee, strumming a few chords while glancing at his friend. “Whaddaya want me to sing?”

“I dunno, anything.”

After pondering it, Hutch began to strum the chords of the beautiful, classic love song by John Denver, as he sang:

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high
If I had a day that I could give you
I’d give to you a day just like today
If I had a song that I could sing for you
I’d sing a song to make you feel this way
Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high
If I had a tale that I could tell you
I’d tell a tale sure to make you smile
If I had a wish that I could wish for you
I’d make a wish for sunshine all the while
Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high
Sunshine almost all the time makes me high
Sunshine almost always

Hutch ended the song, grinning broadly. “How was that?”

Starsky had stopped chomping on his potato chips to give his full attention to the blond and the brunet’s sapphire eyes were brimming with tears.

“Now ya gone and got me all mushy,” he admitted, wiping away a single tear that escaped down his cheek. Then he crooked his finger for Hutch to come to him.

After placing his guitar on the floor, he got up and went to his lover. He stood by the bed, looking down at the man that he loved more than life itself.

Starsky kept beckoning him until Hutch was leaning close to his face, then he grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. When the kiss broke, the brunet looked into his fair-haired lover’s handsome face.

“That was beautiful, babe. It’s one of my favorite John Denver songs and you sing it even better than he does.” Starsky grinned, then glanced at the clock. “Is it time to wash this off?”

Hutch looked at it. “Yeah it’s time.”

Starsky quickly got off the bed, toed off his sneakers, and pulled the shirt over his head. Once he threw it on the bed, the brunet padded naked to the bathroom, turning to Hutch before going inside.

“I can do it by myself, okay? I did it while you went to the station.”

Hutch smiled and nodded, then watched his lover disappear into the bathroom. While Starsky was taking a shower, he looked around the apartment and his eyes landed on the couch.

We need to get rid of this, so Starsk would have some place to relax other than staying in his bedroom, he thought.

Starsky came out of the bathroom and put his pajama bottoms back on and went out to the living room. He found Hutch standing there, staring down at the couch.

“It needs to go, huh?” Starsky asked, already knowing the answer, as he stood next to his partner.

“I can have someone come and pick it up today,” Hutch told him.

“What are they gonna do with it?”

“Probably take it to the Goodwill or The Salvation Army,” Hutch told him.

“The person who’s gonna get it will never know what happened on it,” he said, reliving the assault as he looked at the now abhorrent furniture.

“Where’s your phone book? I’ll call someone right now.”

“It’s on the table near the kitchen.”

Hutch went over to the table, sat down, and started thumbing through the Yellow Pages.

“Hutch, I’d prefer you call The Salvation Army. They raise money to help homeless shelters and disaster relief efforts—the other doesn’t.”

“Right. Okay.” Hutch found the number, then got up to grab the receiver and punch them in.

Starsky came into the kitchen and leaned down on the counter with his chin propped on his right palm, and listened to the transaction.

“It’s a three-seater. Yeah. Okay. You’ll be here within an hour? Great. See you then.” Hutch hung up the phone and turned to his partner.

“Well, that’s settled. They’ll be here within an hour to take it away,” he told him cheerfully.

“Yeah, I heard,” Starsky stated, not sounding too happy.

“Babe, what’s wrong? I thought we decided that it would be a good idea to get rid of the thing.”

“Yeah, but where am I gonna get another one?”

Hutch gave him a strange expression. “Starsk, why are you making this so hard? We’ll buy another one from the furniture store, dummy.”

The brunet gave his lover a ‘I’m not stupid’ look. “I know that, but I’m not really up to going shopping right now.”

“Well, if you trust my taste, I’ll pick out one for you.”

Starsky narrowed his eyes. “If your taste in couches is anything like your taste in cars, then no thank you,” he stated, getting a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water from the cooler.

“I know what you like, Gordo, so I think I should be able to find something,” the blond said resolutely. He watched as Starsky made a face before bringing the glass to his lips. “Fine. How about Huggy coming with me? Do you trust his taste in furniture?”

Starsky placed the empty glass in the sink, sighing. He ran his fingers through his thick curls in frustration. “Hutch, I can go with you and pick out my own couch.”

“And how is that supposed to happen? We can’t walk there, and I doubt you’re in any shape to ride in a car.”

“I can if I sit on a pillow,” Starsky reasoned.

“I don’t know Starsk. The streets have a lot of bumps, potholes, and other road hazards. It won’t be a smooth ride.”

“You can take it easy. Come on Hutch. I wanna go.”

“All right. We’ll go after they take the couch.”

Starsky walked to the couch and stared down at the multi-colored, striped fabric that covered the back. “I guess I need to get rid of the blanket, too.”

Hutch heard the sadness behind the words. He knew it held sentimental value for his dark-haired partner. It was a Serape blanket that his father got from a trip to Mexico and gave it to his mom. Then his mom gave it to him when he moved into the apartment. He walked up next to his friend and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“Starsk, you don’t have to get rid of it if you don’t want to, ya know?”

Starsky sighed. “But it happened right on it. Now every time I see it…”

“I know, buddy.” Hutch squeezed the back of his neck. “Well, I guess, along with a new sofa, you’ll be getting a new blanket. It’ll mark the beginning of positive energy in this space and getting rid of the negative energy.”

The brunet rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with all that energy stuff, Hutch. Next, you’ll be getting me some kind of crystal.”

“Starsk, that’s a great idea! I can get you a Quartz crystal. It destroys all negative energy around it. Also stores positive intentions, thoughts, and other important vibrations. It helps clear your mind and allows you to focus with renewed inspiration on the most positive aspects of your life. I think it would be perfect for you!”

Starsky realized the big blond hadn’t been this excited in quite a while. So he figured he would humor him, even though the brunet thought that stuff was ridiculous. “Sure Hutch. I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

After getting a bright smile from his lover, Starsky jogged back to his bedroom to change back into the clothes he wore to the pharmacy. But this time, Starsky knew he needed to put something on his skin in case the sweatpants started rubbing again.

“Hey Hutch!” He called from the doorway. “Can you put more of that gel on me, so the sweats won’t rub the welts this time?”

“Starsk, you can only leave that on for five to ten minutes, and we’re going to be out longer than that.”

“Then what am I gonna do?” Starsky was worried. He didn’t want to feel that horrible itch and burn again.

“You have a jar of Vaseline, right?” Hutch asked, going into the bathroom.

“You know I do. We used that before I got KY Jelly.”

Hutch came out, pulling off the lid. “Okay. Let me put some of this on you. It should work just fine.”

Starsky went to the dresser, pushed down his sweats, and placed his hands on the top. Then stuck out his butt, anxiously waiting for Hutch to apply the petroleum jelly.

He stood behind Starsky, scooped some out with two fingers, and applied it, gently spreading the soothing ointment over the abrasions smoothly and evenly.

“Make sure you put a lot,” Starsky reminded, sticking his ass out further.

Hutch smiled to himself, thinking that his partner looked like he was about to be frisked and possibly concealing something where the sun doesn’t shine.

“Okay Starsk. That should be enough.” Hutch snapped the lid back on the jar.

Starsky straightened and gingerly pulled his pants over his Vaseline coated ass and suddenly realized. “Aw shit, Hutch! I ruined your sweatpants. This stuff is gonna be all over it.”

“It’s alright. I might be able to wash it out and if not, it’s no big deal. They weren’t my favorite pair, anyway. Besides, the most important thing is for you to be comfortable.”

Starsky padded out to the living room and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch. He carefully folded it, then placed it on one of the cushions. Then sat at the table and the two played the card game Uno while waiting for The Salvation Army to arrive.

Just as the game was coming to the end, they heard a knock on the door. “Man, I was just about to yell, UNO!” Starsky shouted, as if he won.

“Yeah, but the keywords in that statement are just about.” Hutch grinned as he went to answer the door.

“We can finish the game when we get back.” The brunet laid his cards on the table and joined his partner.

Hutch opened the door to two burly white men, one with short blond hair and the other with dark brown—almost black—shoulder length hair.

“Hello. We’re here to pick up a couch,” the blond said in a pleasant, professional voice.

“Yeah. It’s right there.” Hutch stepped back, pointing in the direction.

As the men walked past, Starsky’s eyes grew wide as he backed up and stared at the dark-haired man.

Hutch immediately saw the look and followed his gaze to the man who looked a lot like the ass-hole who had raped him. He went over to Starsky and laid a hand on his shoulder, feeling a slight tremble. “It’s okay babe. It’s not him.”

Although his heart was racing, Starsky didn’t want it to show. He looked at Hutch with an absurd look on his face and said, “I know that.” He quickly walked away from his lover and away from his touch. And stood with his arms folded, observing the men preparing to remove the couch.

The blond mover took the cushions off and stacked them on the floor, while the one with the long dark-hair picked up the blanket and held it up to Starsky.

“Ya want us to take this too?”

Without meeting his eyes, Starsky answered, “Yeah.”

The mover threw the blanket on top of the couch cushions to retrieve once they loaded the couch into the truck. Both men gripped the frame of the couch and hoisted it up. As they moved toward the door, Hutch pulled it open wider to ensure that it would go through.

Starsky picked the blanket up from the top of the cushions and held it until they came back for it.

Hutch watched his lover hug the thick fabric tightly to his chest in a fond embrace. Even though the blanket was a reminder of his assault, Starsky struggled to part with it.

The dark-haired mover returned to the cushions and the blanket. He picked up the three cushions, then stood in front of Starsky, waiting for him to place the blanket on top.

Starsky kept the blanket clutched to his chest and stared the man in the face as if to say, I dare you to take it from me.

“Sir?” The mover was wondering what was going on with this guy.

Realizing his partner’s resistance, Hutch gently urged them, saying, “Come on. Give it to him, Starsk.” Then gently took it from his arms and placed it on top of the cushions.

“Thank you for your donations,” the mover said, smiling at both of them, then carried the bundle out the door.

“You’re welcome.” Hutch closed the door, then turned to his partner, who was staring at the floor where the couch had been.

“Starsk, buddy? Are you okay?” he asked, grasping his shoulder again, hoping this time he wouldn’t move away.

“It’s just weird not seeing it there.”

“I know,” Hutch said, moving onto another topic. “Starsk, why were you looking at the mover like that?”

Starsk looked at him in confusion. “Looking like what?”

“Like you wanted to punch his lights out. Was it because he looked so much like that asshole?”

“If you already knew the answer, why are you asking the question?” The brunet went over to lean a hand against his bookcase.

“Cause I noticed it and wanted to see if you wanted to talk about it?”

Starsky turned to his lover, glowering. “There you go again, wanting me to talk about everything. The guy looked like him, okay? And for a minute…it brought me back, but I’m fine, okay?”

Hutch gave Starsky a small smile, realizing that even though his partner didn’t want to talk about it, he still did. The blond held up his hands in surrender. “Okay.”

Starsky let out an audible sigh, as he tried to calm down from the unsettling moment.

Hutch saw it and figured this would be the perfect time to make a suggestion. “Babe, come on,” the blond urged. “Let’s go get you another couch.”

Starsky looked at him. “Can we stop by a drive-thru? I’m hungry.”

Hutch smiled, glad that his lover was coming out of his mood and had an appetite again. He knew food always had the power to cheer him up. “Sure,” Hutch replied, slapping Starsky on the back as they walked out the door.

Suddenly, Starsky remembered the pillow. He jogged back, grabbed it off the kitchen chair, and caught up with Hutch. The blond threw his arm around his lover as they strode toward the LTD.

***S&H***

“Why are we takin your car?” Starsky asks, frowning at it.

Hutch left Starsky at the passenger side door and walked around to the driver’s side, opening it. “Because I’m driving,” he stated, then got in and leaned over to unlock the door.

Starsky pulled open the door and set the pillow on the seat before getting in. After settling himself on the cushion, he reached for the door handle, shutting it, then glanced at his partner.

“You could have taken my car. It would have been better than this hunka junk,” Starsky said, folding his arms across his chest.

It was obvious that the brunet was still in a foul mood, even though he always bitched and moaned whenever he was in Hutch’s car.

Hutch started up the LTD and glanced at his sometimes-incorrigible partner. “Well, Gordo, if you want me to take you to get another couch then we’re going in this car, or you can go back upstairs and sit on the floor.” He watched his lover glare at him and settle against the door.

He drove for a few minutes, then Hutch glanced over at his partner. “So how’s ya butt doin?”

Starsky could hear a hint of teasing in the question, so he scowled at him before answering, “My ass is just fine, thank you very much.”

“I know that.” Hutch grinned. “And I’m glad to hear that it’s doin’ okay.” The blond watched a slow smile curl the corners of the brunet’s mouth, then headed to the Jack-in-the-box drive-thru. After ordering their meals, they ate in the car, and Hutch drove toward a local furniture store.

“So, where we goin?” the brunet asked, watching the scenery whiz by.

“There’s a furniture store about a mile from here.”

“Really? Who told you about it?”

“Huggy. His cousin Ray owns it.”

Starsky looked at him suspiciously. “His cousin, huh?”

“Yeah. He said he had some good stuff at affordable prices. When I told him I was looking for a new coffee table, he sent me there.”

“That table’s beautiful. You got it from there?”

“Yep.”

Once they arrived, he and Starsky spent about an hour in the store before the brunet found the couch he wanted. It was the same as the one he had, but this one was olive green. After arranging for it to be delivered, Hutch drove them back to Starsky’s.

“I’m beat,” Starsky stated as he walked into his living room and turned toward Hutch. “I guess I have to go in my bedroom to stretch out.”

Hutch shut the door and joined his friend in the living room. “Yeah, but it’ll only be for an hour or so.” Then he remembered their Uno game.

“Hey Starsk. Ya wanna finish the game?” He suggested, glancing at the table.

“Nah, not now. I think I’m gonna lie down for a minute. Call me when the couch gets here.” Starsky went into his bedroom and crawled on the bed and stretched out on his back.

The blond figured their brief excursion would have tired him out. He also wondered if Starsky was hurting. It didn’t seem like it, but his partner was good at masking his discomfort sometimes. He went into the kitchen and sat at the table playing solo Uno until the couch arrived.

***S&H***

“Starsk! The couch is here!” Hutch went to answer the door and pulled it open to two young men- a tall, thin Black man and an average height and build Hispanic man.

“Hello,” Hutch greeted them as his partner emerged sleepily from his bedroom.

“Hello, sir,” the Black man said. “We’re here to deliver a couch.”

Starsky stepped forward. “Yeah. You can put it right over there.” He pointed to the large, empty space in the living room.

“Yes, sir.” Then he and the other young man left to retrieve the couch.

“You think they should put it in that same spot?” Starsky asked, scratching his head.

Hutch stood with his arms akimbo, thinking. “Where else could it go?” He asked, glancing around the small apartment.

The brunet looked around also, not finding another suitable place. “I guess this is the best place for it. Besides, the TV is right…” Starsky’s words suddenly trailed off and his eyes moved from the TV to the space where his couch had been.

“Starsk? You okay?”

Starsky blinked himself back from where he’d gone. He wasn’t about to tell his partner that he went back to when they placed him on his belly and he heard the TV as he pretended to be asleep.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Just then, the movers were coming back with his couch. They carried it into the living room and Starsky directed where it should go. “Right there is perfect.”

As the men were about to leave, Hutch called to them, “Wait a second.” He reached into his jacket pocket for his wallet and pulled out two fives and handed one to each man.

“Thank you, sir. Enjoy your couch,” they said in unison and walked out.

After shutting the door, Hutch turned around to find Starsky lying on it, ankles crossed, with his arm behind his head.

“So. How does it feel? You look pretty comfortable,” Hutch acknowledged, smiling.

“It’s good. It needs a little breakin’ in, but it’s good.”

“Glad to hear it, but something’s missing,” the blond admitted, with a slight frown.

Starsky turned his head toward Hutch. “What?”

“A blanket on the back. You think you’re going to get another one?”

“I dunno. Probably, but there’s no hurry.” Starsky gazed at the ceiling, then slowly shut his eyes.

It looked like Starsky was going to sleep, so Hutch ended the conversation and quietly went back into the kitchen to finish playing solo Uno. Once he was seated at the table, he glanced at his partner with a smile on his face. The brunet looked so content and peaceful for the first time in many days. His physical wounds seemed to be pretty much healed. Hopefully, the psychological and emotional wounds would soon follow suit.

 

Chapter Seven

After removing Starsky’s sneakers, Hutch covered him with a blanket from the closet. He let him sleep on the couch, not wanting to disturb him, and he slept in the bed.

Being an early riser, Hutch awoke first and went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. As he walked by his partner, the blond heard him snoring. It brought joy to his heart that his friend seemed to be sleeping better and that the nightmares had stopped.

He tried not to make noise while he was preparing breakfast, but accidentally he bumped the handle of the frying pan, sending it crashing to the floor. When he glanced at Starsky, the brunet was sitting up with a panicked look on his face.

“Oh, babe,” Hutch said, rushing to his startled lover. “I didn’t mean to wake you like that,” he said, rubbing Starsky’s back to relax him.

Starsky’s eyes were wide, darting around the room until they centered on the calming face of his lover. “Man, I didn’t know what the hell happened. I thought someone was breaking into the apartment,” he admitted, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I’m so sorry, Starsk,” Hutch apologized, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“It’s okay,” he said, giving Hutch a small smile.

“How was sleeping on the new couch? I left you there because I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Comfortable. I think I slept well. How about you? Were you able to sleep without me next to you?” Starsky asked, getting up from the couch and stretching broadly.

“Of course I missed your warm, sexy bod, but I managed to sleep well anyway.”

Starsky looked toward the kitchen. “You makin’ breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Hutch replied, going back into the kitchen. “Whaddaya say to pancakes?”

“I say bring em on. I’m famished.”

The blond smiled. “They’ll be ready in a minute, so if you’re gonna take a shower, you should do it now.”

“Okay bossy.” Starsky went into the bedroom with a bounce in his step. He was obviously in a good mood this morning, and Hutch hoped it would last.

Hutch finished making the pancakes and placed a tall stack on the table, along with butter and syrup, then called his lover.

“Starsk! Come on! Hotcakes are ready!” Hutch yelled, pouring hot coffee into two mugs.

“Okay, okay. I’m comin’.” Starsky came out of the bedroom dressed in another pair of Hutch’s sweats, a blue T-shirt, and his Adidas. When he got to the kitchen table, he sat on the pillow and immediately stabbed the top four pancakes with a fork, then deposited them on his plate.

Hutch speared the last four, placing them on his plate, and glanced at his partner. “You’re dressed. Ya goin’ somewhere?” he asked nonchalantly while pouring syrup over his pancakes.

“After breakfast, I thought I’d go for a walk.” Starsky shoved a fork full into his mouth and gave Hutch a side glance. It was apparent the brunet wasn’t asking for Hutch’s permission. He knew Sammie said it was okay for him to go out if he wanted to, and there didn’t seem to be a reason why he couldn’t go out alone.

The blond studied his confident lover. Starsky was telling him he wanted to go out, not with him. He still wasn’t comfortable with the idea, but he did tell Starsky that he could go alone the next time he needed to get out.

“Sounds good.” Hutch smiled, taking a sip from his mug.

Starsky blinked, then scowled. He was surprised his lover was agreeing so easily. He just knew Hutch would have a problem with it.

“Really? You’re okay with me going for a walk by myself?”

“Well, you are feeling better, and Sammie said it was okay.”

The brunet narrowed his eyes. “But she didn’t say I could go out alone.”

“But if you recall, when we got back from the pharmacy, I told you that you could go the next time.”

“Yeah. So you’re good?” Starsky still couldn’t believe Hutch wasn’t giving him an argument.

Hutch snorted at the skepticism of his friend. “Yes Starsk. I’m good. Go and enjoy your walk.”

Starsky scarfed down the pancakes, deposited his plate in the sink, and moved quickly to the door. “See ya later.”

“Hold on, Speed Racer,” Hutch said, walking toward his impatient lover. “There are some ground rules first.”

Starsky’s handsome features contorted into an incredulous frown. “Ground rules? Whaddaya talkin’ about? I’m just gonna for a walk, not on a date.”

“I know that, but I want to remind you that you’re still recovering, so I don’t think jogging would be a good idea for now.”

“Who said anything about jogging?” the brunet asked, cocking his head to the side and staring his friend in the face.

“I know. I just want to make sure.”

“Anything else, mom? Do I have a curfew too?”

“No, smartass, but I don’t want you to go too far.”

“Jesus, Hutch. What if I wanna walk a mile? Are you gonna send me to bed without supper?” Starsky stated it sarcastically.

Hutch sighed. “Starsk, I think a mile is way too much for your first time out. Maybe a half-mile at best. I don’t want you to tire yourself out, that’s all. I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I appreciate you caring and looking out for me, Hutch, but I’m a big boy who can take care of myself.” With that final statement, Starsky walked out, closing the door behind him.

Hutch blew out his breath and imagined how much of a handful the brunet probably was to his poor mother. Laughing to himself, he went to the kitchen to wash the dishes and straighten up.

***S&H***

It was a sunny morning in Southern California. Once outside, Starsky stood with his face turned up to the sun. The sky was a beautiful shade of cerulean blue. Like Hutch’s eyes, he thought. He started walking—not too fast, just strolling. He felt renewed, almost giddy that all that shit was behind him. The temperature was a pleasant seventy-seven degrees. And he wasn’t the only one enjoying this wonderful day. He saw an attractive, tall man jogging past him, and they exchanged greetings. He would have enjoyed a short jog, but his mother-hen partner forbade it. Besides, it didn’t seem like a good idea anyway. The last thing he wanted was for his ass to start itching and burning again.

Starsky took in his neighborhood. There weren’t any sidewalks, just paved roads that, at some points, became pretty steep. Walking down wouldn’t be a problem, but going up was another story. It was rare for him to do much walking in the area since he and Hutch usually went to the park to jog or power walk.

So far, the only person Starsky saw was that jogger. Other than that, he didn’t see any people, but that was the norm when you live in SoCal. No one walked. They drove everywhere. He missed that about New York City. It was a walking town. Everyone strode to their destinations, took mass transit, or hailed a cab from the curb.

As Starsky continued to walk, he came upon a rare occurrence. A woman was hauling boxes from a driveway to the trunk of her car. It was obviously difficult for her. He could hear her huffing and puffing loudly as he got closer.

“Ma’am, can I give you a hand?” Starsky asked, moving quickly toward one of the boxes.

“Oh, thank you! You’re a lifesaver, young man.” The woman was middle-aged, with long red hair that was covered with a green silk scarf tied behind her head. She wore brown polyester slacks with a plaid multicolored top and low-heeled pumps. She stood around 5’ 6” with an average body. You couldn’t call her a looker, but she had intense green eyes.

Starsky leaned down and picked up one of the boxes, surprised to find it wasn’t as heavy as the woman was making out. Once he had it in his arms, Starsky waited for her to tell him where to put it.

“Just put it in the trunk.”

The woman stood back and watched the curly-haired man lay the box down, then turned to get the other one. “Oh, young man. I don’t think there’s enough room for that in the trunk.”

“Then how ‘bout the back seat?” Starsky leaned down and, for the first time, noticed that someone was sitting there—a man. He was pressed against the far door, like he was trying to keep out of sight.

“Oh, I didn’t know someone was back there,” Starsky said. “Hey, do you think this box would fit next to you?”

Suddenly, it dawned on the brunet that if this guy was in the car, why wasn’t he helping the woman? Just as he was about to turn toward her, he felt a hard blow to his head. As darkness enveloped him, Starsky felt someone catch him before he hit the ground and shove him into the back seat.

***S&H***

Starsky’s eyes fluttered open. He was lying on a metal-frame hospital bed with vertical metal bars at the head and foot. He sat up on a thin mattress and immediately felt a sharp pain in his head. It was so intense that he had to squeeze his eyes shut and rub his temples to relieve the throbbing.

When he opened them, Starsky got off the bed and stood, swaying a little before getting his balance, then took in his surroundings. The single-sized bed was placed against the wall of a room that was approximately 500 sq. ft. with one window that was near the ceiling and too high to look through. The door to the room was taken off and replaced with bars like a prison cell. Beige-stained wall-to-wall carpet covered the floor, indicating this was possibly a bedroom in a house.

His clothes and sneakers had been removed, and he was dressed in white cotton elastic-waisted pants and a white T-shirt. He looked at the front of the shirt and saw the word prisoner written in capital letters with a black marker. He felt his neck and his coin necklace were there, along with his pinky ring, but his watch was gone. Then the brunet padded to the barred exit, gripping them with both hands.

“Hello! Anyone there!” The brunet yelled, trying to peer through the steel bars. There was a long, dark hallway on the other side, and he couldn’t make anything out.

After getting no response, Starsky moved to the center of the room and looked up at the window. It was rectangular, with dimensions of 32×22. This is the type of window that would be in a basement. He didn’t think he was in the attic because the roof wasn’t triangular.

Starsky sat cross-legged on the carpet and tried to remember the events before his imprisonment. He left his apartment and went for a walk right after breakfast, which was around 8:30 a.m. He walked for about a minute before running into that woman. As the memory became clearer, Starsky recalled being hit in the head and pushed inside a car. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in this room. He didn’t know how long he was out. Was it minutes or hours?

Hutch. He must be worried sick. I should have been back long before now.

Starsky needed to get out of here. Wherever here—was.

He knew his captors had to be that woman and the man he saw in the backseat. He closed his eyes to bring up her image in his mind.

She had long red hair and a scarf. She wore dark pants—no, brown pants—and a flower-printed blouse. The car was a Dodge Challenger, and it was purple.

What else? What else? The man in the backseat What did he look like? Starsky squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to remember. It was too dark, but I think I saw facial hair—maybe a mustache and a beard. I saw his thigh, and he was wearing jeans—blue jeans.

The brunet felt good about remembering this much. They were the two people who kidnapped him and brought him here. But why? And who were they?

Just then, Starsky heard a door opening and closing in the darkened hallway. He ran back to the bars, grasping them as he shouted, “Hello! Is anyone there?”

The clicking sound of heels was growing nearer, and soon a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. As the figure came into his sight, Starsky was able to see who it was. The red-haired woman whom he had been a good Samaritan to.

“It’s you. I knew it. What’s goin’ on? Why did you kidnap me and put me in here?” he asked impatiently.

The woman stood and stared coldly at the detective. Her intense green eyes seemed to look right through him and made him uncomfortable.

“Did you hear me? Why am I in here?” Starsky screamed.

She continued to stare at him with a smirk pulling at the corners of her thin lips.

He’d had enough of her silence and suddenly reached through the bars to try and grab her. But she stepped back just in time and resumed her cold stare.

“Fuck you!” Starsky spat and turned away.

“I believe that’s what he did to you,” she said in a cold, unemotional voice.

Starsky turned back, grasping the bars again. “What do you mean by that?” His sapphire eyes were full of fury.

“He fucked you.”

Was she referring to my being raped? And if she was, how the hell did she know?

“Whaddaya talkin about?” He asked, having a feeling he already knew the answer, and that’s exactly what she was talking about.

“He raped you, and my baby whipped your ass. And from the way it looks, I’d say he did a very good job.” Now an evil grin appeared on her face as she continued to stare into his confused eyes.

“Your baby?” He blinked, trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about.

She slowly moved closer to the bars, making sure she was out of the brunet’s reach. “When you were stripped, I saw my son’s handiwork. He told me what he and his friend were going to do to you.” As the woman looked into Starsky’s eyes, she saw the moment of recognition.

“Your son? You’re Flynn’s mother?” Starsky’s cobalt eyes widened in astonishment.

“Yes. Maggie Flynn. And my sons. My twin baby boys, Patrick and Shaun.”

Starsky saw the cold, intense green eyes suddenly well up with tears as she looked off in the distance, remembering her sons. Then, in an instant, they were filled with rage.

“You killed my babies!” Maggie shouted.

Starsky frowned. “I didn’t kill them. Your precious babies were criminals. One was robbing a liquor store at gunpoint and was arrested. The other one held me captive, and after firing at a police officer, he was shot and killed.”

“SHUT UP!” she screamed.

The brunet jumped back, startled at her sudden outburst.

“I’m not going to let you stand there and tell me my babies deserved to be killed. They’re both dead, and it’s all your fault!” The woman abruptly turned on her heels and stomped back down the hallway. As her figure disappeared back into the darkness, a door could be heard in the distance slamming shut.

With his hands still gripping the bars, Starsky pressed his forehead against the cold metal. He closed his eyes as fear gripped him, and the taste of bitter bile rose in his throat, threatening to make him vomit. He couldn’t believe this nightmare wasn’t over. But what scared him the most was that this time Hutch wouldn’t know where to find him.

***S&H***

It’s been over an hour since Starsky left for his walk, and he hasn’t returned. Hutch tried to calculate how long it should have taken his partner.

Starsky said that he was going to walk a mile. And to walk a mile would take about twenty minutes, but in his present condition, it would probably have taken thirty. If he did what I suggested and walked a half-mile, it would take him ten to fifteen minutes. And this is only one way. He wasn’t sure if Starsky would walk a mile, including the walk back home. The total time would be about 45 minutes to an hour. If only he had told me exactly how far he’d walk.

The blond felt panic growing in the pit of his stomach. Immediately, he changed into a pair of cords and a T-shirt. He slipped on his shoes, grabbed the apartment key, and headed out to look for his partner.

As Hutch started walking, he noticed the lack of pedestrians and sidewalks. He was always puzzled as to why Starsky wanted to rent this treehouse apartment. It was off the beaten track and wasn’t on a street like Venice Place was. Being a city boy, he would assume the brunet would want to be closer to the city, where there were at least sidewalks.

There weren’t the usual trash cans outside the houses. He figured they were probably in the back of the homes where Starsky’s was located. He didn’t see any signs of disarray, but as he looked in the distance, he saw a box that had fallen over in a driveway. It seemed out of place, and as he got closer to it, he noticed it was filled with stacks of newspapers.

Hutch looked at the driveway of the house and got a sense that something had happened here. Why was this box just sitting out here? He glanced at the front door and decided to ask the occupants if it belonged to them and, if not, if they knew anything about it.

He walked up to the front door and pressed the bell. He waited until he heard someone approaching and peering through the peephole.

“Hello.” Just then, he realized that he had left his badge back at the apartment, and now he couldn’t use his authority to get some answers. He was just some guy showing up at their door.

“Hello,” he continued. “I noticed there’s a box that fell over in your driveway and was just wondering if it belonged to you.”

After a pause, Hutch heard the door unlocked and opened a crack, just wide enough to see the face of an elderly woman. She looked like she might be in her late 70s or early 80s. She had silver gray hair and wore gold wire rim frames that were perched on the tip of her nose.

“What box are you talking about, young man?”

Hutch stepped back and pointed to the box in her driveway. “That box, ma’am.”

The woman opened the door a little more so she could see what Hutch was pointing at. “That box doesn’t belong to me. That woman probably left it.”

“That woman?”

“Yes, she was taking them out of her trunk and stacking them in my driveway. I went out and shouted for her to not put them there, and she told me to go fuck myself. When I went back inside, I was just about to call the police when a man came along to help her.”

“What did this man look like?”

“He had curly, dark hair. I thought it was strange that she had just taken the boxes out of her trunk, and she had the young man put them back in.”

“Do you know what the woman looked like?”

The elderly woman suddenly looked up at the blond man with suspicious, aging gray eyes. “Why are you asking all these questions? Are you a policeman or something?”

Hutch gave him one of his warm smiles. “As a matter of fact, ma’am, I am. I just don’t have my badge with me right now, or I’d show you.”

The woman frowned. This man was handsome and seemed nice, but so was Ted Bundy. She knew she needed to be cautious, but she felt it wouldn’t hurt to answer his questions.

Hutch saw the apprehension in the woman’s face and decided to be honest with her. “Ma’am, I’m trying to find my partner. He went for a walk almost an hour ago and hasn’t come back. I think the man you described might be him. I’d appreciate anything you can tell me so I can locate him.”

She looked up into his handsome face again and saw sincerity in his kind blue eyes. There was something in them that told the woman he wasn’t a serial killer, and he was being truthful with her.

“The woman had red hair that was covered with a green scarf.”

“Did you see her face?”

“I don’t see well anymore. These are my reading glasses,” she admitted, removing them. “But she was average-looking; there wasn’t anything that stood out that I could remember besides her red hair.”

“It’s okay,” Hutch said, not wanting her to feel bad for being unable to say more.

“I was looking out of the window and saw the curly-haired man put a box in her trunk, then my phone rang, and I had to leave to answer it. When I came back, everyone was gone. The only thing there was that box.”

“Do you remember what the car looked like?

“Yes. It was a color that you don’t see every day—purple. A 1970 Dodge Challenger. My husband had one, but it was black.”

“Did you happen to see the license plate?” Hutch asked, knowing she probably hadn’t since she mentioned that she didn’t see well anymore.

“Oh. Yes, I did.”

As the woman went back inside to get the number, Hutch held the door open and smiled to himself.

How could a woman who didn’t see well be able to read a license plate from a distance, he thought.

The woman came back with a small piece of paper in her hand. “Here it is, young man. I was only able to get the first three numbers. It was hard to read because of where the car was.”

Hutch took the paper and glanced at the number, then had to ask, “Ma’am, how is it that you were able to see the license plate?”

After quickly going back inside, she returned holding a pair of binoculars. “When I was about to call the police on that horrid woman, I knew I’d probably need to get her license plate. I watch all those crime shows, and they say they need that.” She grinned, feeling proud of herself.

“That’s good.” Hutch smiled. “It’ll give us something to work with. Was there anyone else with the woman?”

“No, I didn’t see anyone else, but I did see the dark-haired man lean in the backseat like he was talking to someone.”

“Thank you for all the information, ma’am.” Hutch smiled, grasping her hand and giving it a tender kiss.

The gesture from the charming, handsome man made the elderly woman blush and giggle like a schoolgirl. “My pleasure. I just wish I had gotten the whole license plate.”

“It’s okay. What you did give me is very helpful. Thanks again.” The tall, blond man turned to walk away.

The woman opened the door wide and stepped out. “I hope you find your partner!” she shouted and waved.

“I hope so too.” Hutch waved, then walked back down the driveway.

He stood near the box and looked down the road, where the car would have gone. He had a gut feeling that Starsky had been taken away in that car. But was it against his will, or did he get in willingly? And if it was willingly, why would he do that? He had to know that I’d be worried sick when he didn’t come right back.

Hutch walked back to Starsky’s apartment, hoping that he might have taken another way and was back home. But unfortunately, when he got there, his lover was nowhere in sight. He left immediately for the station. When he arrived, he went right to his desk and called dispatch.

“Hey Joe, it’s Hutch. Can you run a partial plate for me? Yeah, right away. Thanks Joe.”

Hutch hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair, and thought about Starsky.

What if that woman had something to do with those assholes who attacked him before? What if she wants to do the same things? And what if there was a man in the backseat? What if? What if? Please don’t let them hurt him like they did before. He glanced at the ceiling, whispering aloud to some unseen entity who could hear and help him.

 

Chapter Eight

Starsky was pacing around the small room as he thought about the situation he was in. The mother of those assholes had kidnapped him, no doubt avenging her sons deaths.

They put a T-shirt on me and wrote the word- PRISONER, even though it’s obvious that’s what I am. So why write it on the shirt?

Starsky continued to try and figure this out. Maybe she wanted this room to be like a real prison and wanted me to dress like an inmate but couldn’t get her hands on an orange jumpsuit. Who the fuck knows?

Then a horrifying thought came into the brunet’s mind.

What if she not only wants to imprison me like her son, but to do to me what they had done to him? Oh my God. Not again.

He gripped the top of his curly head as he paced getting increasingly agitated.

It’s not gonna happen. There is no fuckin’ way that I’m gonna let that happen to me again. No fuckin way. They’ll have to kill me first.

Suddenly, Starsky stopped in his tracks. “Hutch,” he said aloud. “If I let them kill me…what would that do to him?”

Starsky crossed his ankles and dropped down on the carpet. It made his ass hurt, but he didn’t care. He sat crossed-legged with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands and cried. He knew he couldn’t show this kind of emotion in front of that woman or anyone else who was involved. But here and now- he needed to do this. Afterwards, he’d need to be the tough street cop who relied on his resilience to get through any ordeal. He was determined to survive whatever they were going to do to him in this room. He needed to survive for Hutch.

Babe, please hurry up and find me.

There was the sound of a door closing and Starsky got to his feet, wiping tears from his eyes. He placed his hands on the bars, as he listened and tried to make out who it was. He expected to hear the clicking of a woman’s heels, but this time he heard the heavy footfalls of someone wearing boots.

Soon the person came into view, and it wasn’t the woman—it was a man with dark hair and a mustache, looked to be in his late twenties. His black leather jacket hung loosely on his tall, bulky frame. As he got closer, Starsky looked at his face and it seemed familiar. The man walked right up to the bars and the look in his eyes made the brunet back away. He was determined not to show any fear and the only sign that he was afraid was the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard.

***S&H***

Hutch decided to let Dobey in on what was happening, so he went up to his office door, knocked and went in. He stopped abruptly when he discovered there was a meeting in progress, with two men seated in chairs in front of Dobey’s desk. All three men looked toward the blond detective.

“I’m sorry captain. I didn’t know you were in a meeting,” he said, chagrined.

Captain Dobey rose from his chair. “This is one of my best men. Detective Sergeant Hutchinson- Deputy Chief Stevenson and Deputy Chief Sanchez.” The men exchanged handshakes.

“Is this an urgent matter Detective Hutchison? As you can see I’m right in the middle of a meeting.”

“It is captain. It involves one of your men.”

Dobey looked in the blond’s blue eyes and saw concern, mixed with fear.

“Gentlemen,” Dobey began. “I apologize, but we have to reschedule this meeting for another time. An urgent matter has come up with my detective.”

The men rose from their chairs nodding their understanding as they shook hands with Dobey, then turned to exit the office. Both men acknowledged the blond with a cordial nod as they passed.

As soon as the door closed, Dobey eyed the detective. “Is it Starsky?” He asked, with worry in the brown eyes.

“Yes cap’. I believe he’s gone missing.”

Dobey frowned. “What do you mean missing?”

“He went for a walk almost two hours ago and he hasn’t come back.”

“How far was he going to go?”

“I’m not sure. He said maybe a mile and given his present condition, it probably would take him thirty minutes or more when it would normally take twenty.”

“You just said given his present condition. Starsky’s probably taking a little longer because of that and he’s just late.”

Hutch shook his head. “No captain. When I went to look for him, I came upon a box that was turned over in someone’s driveway. When I went to the occupant’s door to see if it belonged to her, she told me it didn’t. She said she saw a man, fitting Starsky’s description helping a woman with boxes.”

“So, Starsky’s a helpful guy,” Dobey said flippantly.

“You’re not getting it Captain. The lady said she saw the woman taking the boxes out of her trunk and putting them in the driveway. Why would she have Starsky put them back in her trunk? I’m tellin’ ya cap’, somethin’ ain’t right. I think that woman kidnapped him.”

“What makes you think that? Do you think there’s a connection between the men who assaulted him and this woman?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I just have this gut feelin’ that there might be.”

Dobey got up and sat on the end of his desk in front of Hutch. He pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his suddenly sweaty face. He knew the two men had always had a special psychic bond between them. They could sense when the other was in danger. It’s happened on more than one occasion. He looked the blond in the face, seeing his sincere pale blue eyes. “You really feel like something’s wrong?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Okay. Do you have a description of this woman and her car?”

“Yes. And better than that, the woman gave me a partial plate.”

“That’s great. Did you give it to dispatch?”

“Already done. Joe’s running it through right now.

“Okay. Let me know when he gives you the list and we can go through it together.”

“Will do cap’.” Hutch exited the office and sat at his desk, trying to patiently wait for dispatch to call.

***S&H***

Both men stared at one another, with the brunet looking at him quizzically.

“You’re wondering if you’ve seen me before, aren’t ya?”

Starsky’s eyes narrowed, and he didn’t reply.

“I’m sure you remember Rambo. He’s very memorable. Well, I’m his baby brother, Dylan. It’s nice to meet the man who killed him,” he smirked.

I don’t fuckin believe this shit. Another avenging relative of someone I’m supposed to be responsible for killin’, even though it wasn’t at my hand.

The relatives of the two dead men who assaulted Starsky were notified, and their bodies had to be identified. Dylan came to identify his older brother, Rambo and Maggie came to identify her son, Shaun. Both families had known each other since her sons and Rambo were teenagers. Rambo and Patrick were best friends. While Dylan and Maggie were in the waiting area, they began to talk about the person who was responsible for killing their family members. It was one David Michael Starsky. And Maggie was doubly angry because she felt that this man was also responsible for her other son’s suicide in prison.

They both wanted to get even with the cop and decided to devise a way to do just that. Dylan went to Maggie’s house and together they made a plan to kidnap the detective. Maggie was glad her son told her about his idea to attack the curly haired man and in doing so, gave her the cop’s address. Neither one knew when Starsky would show, so for about a week, they took turns staking out the tree-house. They didn’t park too close for fear of being discovered, so they found a spot in front of another residence a few houses away to wait.

One day, they witnessed the brunet walking with a tall blond. Patrick told his mother that when he was arrested, the cop had a blond partner, so she assumed it must have been him. They were happy to see that their soon-to-be victim was now up and around, so it was only a matter of time when he’d go out alone. The conniving duo patiently waited for that day and soon it was upon them. The detective had ventured out on his own and now their plan could go into action.

***S&H***

“Whaddaya want with me?” Starsky asked, with an angry tone.

Without saying a word, Dylan took a small key from his jacket and unlocked the gate.

Starsky watched the man slowly pull open the gate, keeping his eyes on the brunet. He walked up to Starsky, stopping inches from his face and in a cold, menacing voice said, “I’m here for your first conjugal visit.”

The brunet backed away and observed the large man turn back to pull the gate close with the key still in the lock.

Dylan moved toward the detective until he was backed against the wall. He got into Starsky’s face again and the brunet remained unflinching as he kept his defiant gaze. His attitude brought an evil smile on the man’s face. “This is gonna be fun,” he stated.

“Back the fuck up, mother fucker! Your breath smells like shit!” Starsky shouted, then kneed the man in the balls and pushed him back hard.

While Dylan was clutching his aching testicles, Starsky ran for the door. He quickly turned the key and was pushing it open when Dylan slammed it shut. He gripped a fist full of Starsky’s curls and yanked him backward. The brunet fell to the floor with the man dragging him painfully by his hair. Starsky grabbed Dylan’s fist to try and release the hold on his hair and to prevent it from being ripped out by the roots. He was dragged kicking and screaming to the center of the room, then abruptly released. The brunet laid on the floor panting and rubbing his sore scalp.

The big man crouched down in front of him. “I bet you fought my brother like this, didn’t ya, pig? But he still managed to fuck the shit outta ya anyway and I’m sure he did a good job. They didn’t call him Rambo for nothin’.”

Starsky looked up into Dylan’s face with cold, dark eyes. “That ain’t gonna happen again, you sick fuck.”

Dylan snorted. “And what makes you say that?”

“Because I’ll kill ya first.”

The man got up and let out a loud belly laugh. “Is that so?”

Starsky got to his feet with a determined stance. “Yeah, that’s so, asshole.”

He watched as the large man sauntered around him, eyeing every inch of his body. “Well, you talk big for someone in your position. You must have a set on ya, boy. Let’s see em. Strip.”

The brunet’s heart began to pound as panic set in, but soon his rebellious spirit returned. “No,” he said adamantly.

Dylan’s hand disappeared inside his jacket, and he pulled out a 38, then aimed at the brunet. “I said strip,” he repeated resolutely.

***S&H***

Hutch was desperately trying to remain calm as he waited to hear from Joe with the list from the DMV. When he couldn’t sit anymore he started pacing to the dismay of the other officers in the squad room, who were trying to get their work done. He wanted to be out there looking for his partner, but he knew he’d be wasting time without having more information.

He sat back down at his desk, blew out a breath and mournfully glanced across at his friend’s desk.

We’re gonna find you Starsk. Just hold on babe. Just hold on.

***S&H***

Starsky stood in the middle of the room, motionless. He’d gotten a direct order to remove his clothes from a man who was now holding a gun on him, but the brunet’s will couldn’t be broken…at least not yet.

Dylan cocked the gun and straightened his aim. “I told you to take off your clothes and I’m not gonna say it again. I’d prefer to have some fun with you first, but if you don’t do what I say, I’ll just shoot you now.”

The brunet saw the look in the man’s eyes and the deadly tone in his voice. He didn’t want to comply knowing what it would lead to, but he didn’t have a choice. If he refused, this fuck would definitely shoot and kill him.

I would rather die than be raped again. I’d want to die, but I couldn’t do that to Hutch. I need to get through this and stay alive…for him.

He blew out a slow breath and began to remove his clothes. He kept his eyes locked on his captor, giving him a cold, deadly stare. He slowly raised the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. He dropped it on the carpet and waited for the asshole to give him further instruction. He wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

“What the fuck are you waitin’ for? Get em down.”

After wetting his suddenly dry lips with his tongue, Starsky took hold of the waist band of the cotton pants and pushed them down his narrow hips, letting them pool on the top of his bare feet. He stepped out of them and stood before the man completely naked. His heart raced as the man eyed him hungrily.

Dylan smirked and strolled to the door, rapping the 38’s barrel against the metal bars, making a loud clanging sound. Soon the familiar clicking of heels was heard approaching in the distance. The red-haired woman appeared, opened the gate, shut it, and stood beside her companion.

“I see you’ve got him ready,” Maggie said, as she eyed the naked man, with the hope of vengeance in her green eyes.

Starsky’s eyes shifted from the woman to the man, as they stared at his body. He took on a strong stance with his hands at his sides, while he tried to keep himself from trembling.

“Yeah. Do you have the cuffs?” Dylan asked, giving the brunet an evil grin.

When Starsky heard the word, cuffs, he felt his heart rate elevate, and his body shutter. He hoped he wouldn’t be bound. His wrists and ankles were duct taped before and that feeling of being restrained again terrified him.

The woman handed Dylan four pairs of metal cuffs. He shook them like jingle bells as he sauntered up behind Starsky. He noticed the brunet was trembling. “Are you cold or scared, pig?” He whispered into his ear.

Starsky felt the tall man’s hot breath inside his ear canal, and it made his skin crawl. He turned his head to look the man in the eyes, with a murderous gaze.

Dylan snorted. “You should be scared. Get on the bed and lie on your stomach.”

The brunet glanced back at the bed, then looked from one person to the other.

Dylan lifted the 38 and pointed it at Starsky as a reminder of what would happen if he didn’t do as he was told.

Giving them one more deadly gaze, the brunet padded toward the bed, and stared down at the mattress. Without warning, Starsky was violently shoved onto the bed, landing on his back with a bounce and looking up at the man, stunned.

“I told you if you don’t do what I say I’d put a bullet in your head.” The man aimed the barrel of his gun at Starsky’s forehead, cocking it.

“Stop!” Maggie shouted, grabbing Dylan’s arm. “I don’t want him dead yet. First he needs to pay for what happened to my boy in prison. You can kill him once it’s done.”

He looked into the woman’s face and reluctantly lowered his hand, pointing the weapon toward the floor. “You’re lucky she wants to see you get fucked. Otherwise you’d be a dead pig, right now. Get on your stomach.”

Starsky rolled onto his stomach with his arms at his sides and his face turned toward them, glare intact.

“That’s a good boy. Now, as long as you listen to us, you won’t be shot,” the woman stated calmly, tousling the dark curls.

Starsky looked into the woman’s face and saw sympathetic eyes, but behind them held their true sadistic intent.

No, I won’t be shot and killed, just raped, he thought sarcastically.

She stood next to the bed and let her eyes roam over the detective’s prone naked body.

Dylan gave Maggie his piece. “Here- hold this on him while I cuff him to the bed. We don’t want another sudden surge of his rebellious spirit to return.”

She held the gun on the brunet as Dylan grabbed Starsky’s left wrist and cuffed it to the first bar on the headboard. Then he leaned over Starsky to cuff his wrist to another bar on the end.

Starsky’s hands were restrained, and panic began to set in. He tugged at the cuffs making a loud clashing sound that resonated throughout the room.

“You don’t have to cuff me. I won’t fight,” Starsky told him, trying to keep the ever-growing desperation from his voice.

Dylan walked to the head of the bed and crouched down at the brunet’s face. “You don’t want to be cuffed?”

“No. I promise I won’t fight. Just take em off,” Starsky said, continuing to rattle his cuffed wrists.

Moving closer to the bound man, Maggie said, “He’s freaking out about being restrained.” She looked at her companion with a big grin. “This should make him suffer even more. Go ahead. Do his feet,” she ordered, holding the gun in front of his face to make sure the brunet could see it.

After going to the foot of the bed, Dylan grabbed one of Starsky’s flailing feet.

“Stop! Don’t! Please!”

The woman cocked the gun and pointed it at his face. “I said if you’re a good boy, we won’t shoot you. But if you’re not, then I’ll have to blow a hole in that handsome face of yours? Got it?”

Starsky lifted his head to look up at the woman. “You won’t do it. You just said you want me to pay for what happened to your son. That won’t happen if I’m dead.” The cold, deadly tone was back, and the brunet wanted her to know that her threats were full of shit.

“That’s true, but if you continue to be a problem, one of us will kill you. And Dylan wants to do it now, so I’d watch yourself if I were you.”

Dylan roughly grabbed the brunet’s left ankle and cuffed it to the end bar at the foot of the bed. Afterward, he took hold of his right foot, spreading his legs apart and securely cuffed it to a bar on the other end, then straightened. He stood beside his redheaded companion, and they stood back, observing the bound, naked detective. His arms and legs outstretched like a starfish on the mattress.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Maggie admired the dark-haired cop’s well-toned body and firm, round buttocks. A fine sheen of sweat covered the bronze skin and sight aroused her. She leaned down and placed her open palm on one of Starsky’s butt-cheeks. When she gripped it, the brunet shuttered. “It’s a shame my boy had to spoil this amazing ass of yours,” she stated, seeing the scarring from her son’s whipping.

She climbed on the bed between Starsky’s splayed legs and put a hand on each buttock squeezing them, eliciting a groan from her captive. The corners of the red head’s lips turned up in delight, thinking she was causing the cop pain. But she wasn’t. Starsky’s wounds had healed to the point of no longer hurting when pressure was applied. His groan came from the intense compression of her grip digging into his flesh.

“Still tender, huh sweetie?” Maggie gave Starsky’s butt-cheeks a final squeeze, then smacked him on one before crawling off the bed.

Dylan quickly took her place, kneeling between the brunet’s legs. He gripped his cheeks with both hands, dipped his thumbs into the crack and roughly spread them apart, exposing his butt-hole.

Starsky tried to remain still and not protest, but the firm hold on his ass was becoming painful and he groaned softly.

“Come take a look at this.”

The red headed woman stood next to Dylan and looked down at the brunet’s stretched asshole.

“This is gonna get a lot of action. And ya see how tight his hole is?”

Maggie nodded.

“When they fuck him dry, it’s gonna hurt like hell…every single time.”

The woman grinned, very pleased. “Just like they did to my baby boy.” She glanced at Starsky, who was looking back- his dark blue eyes wide with terror.

They? What the fuck did she mean by…they?

Starsky had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what he meant. Jesus. More than one…They’re gonna…I’m gonna be…gang…raped.

“Wait a minute. I got something to get the party started.” Maggie walked to the bag she brought in.

Dylan released Starsky’s ass and watched what she was getting.

Starsky was also trying to see what it was. When Maggie took out the object, the brunet saw what it was, and it made his stomach lurch.

She brought it to Dylan and held it up.

“A dildo?” He chuckled.

“Yes, a dildo.” She was offended. “You don’t think I would have a dildo?”

Dylan looked at his deceased friend’s mother. “Um…I dunno, Miss F.”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to called me that? It makes me feel old. Call me Maggie.”

He chagrined, nodding.

“Hold his ass open again,” she ordered, positioning the silicone phallus in her hand.

Dylan grabbed Starsky’s cheeks again, exposing his sensitive center.

The brunet’s cobalt eyes widened. The thing wasn’t the size of a normal man’s cock. It looked at least twice the size. He had to admit that Hutch wasn’t normal by any means, but this was much larger than him.

“No…please. It’s too big. Don’t,” he pleaded hoping it wouldn’t fall on deaf ears.

Maggie held the head of the dildo over the brunet’s butt-hole. “Looks like it’ll fit to me. What do you think Dylan?”

“Well, it looks like it’ll stretch him out too much and he won’t be nice and tight for the guys.”

Maggie held up the dildo, studying it to see if she agreed with her tall companion. “You may be right,” she admitted reluctantly and went to put it back in the bag.

Thank you Jesus. Starsky laid his head on the mattress, feeling relieved, but that was short lived. He felt something push its way inside him. He looked back and saw Dylan behind him. Starsky knew it was his fingers, and couldn’t tell how many there were, but from the feeling of being ripped open, he knew it must be about two or three. He prayed that Dylan didn’t know anything about fisting. The thick digits began to thrust in him hard and the burning was unbearable. Then the man stopped and withdrew his fingers abruptly, causing the brunet to groan in pain.

“Man, he’s so tight,” Dylan stated, and leaned down close to Starsky’s back, putting a hand on both sides of his head. Now his semi-erect cock was lying against Starsky’s crack.

“Get off me mother fucker!” Starsky yelled, trying to twist his body to get the man off him.

Dylan ignored the brunet’s protests. He propped himself up on one hand next to Starsky and stroked himself with the other. After that he positioned the head of his cock at the tiny, puckered entrance.

“Why can you do that, and I can’t?” the woman asked, a bit angry.

“I hate to say it, but I’m not as big as that thing. Plus, I promised him a conjugal visit, so I’m gonna give it to him right now.” After breaching the dark-hair detective’s sphincter he rammed his penis all the way in, then placed both hands on the mattress, thrusting hard and fast.

“Oh yeah, nice and tight,” Dylan moaned loudly.

“Fucking asshole! I’m gonna kill you!” Starsky continued to shout, as he was pounded into the mattress.

Dylan chuckled. “You got that right. I’m fucking asshole—yours and it’s fucking fantastic!”

Starsky gripped the bars and grimaced as the burning in his ass increased with every thrust. He was desperately trying not to make a sound so he wouldn’t let on just how painful it was, so he gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut.

Maggie watched, enjoying what was happening to the brunet, but she knew they needed to get on with it. She moved closer to the bed and leaned down at Dylan’s ear.

“Sweetheart, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to stop. We have other things in store for him.” She ruffled Starsky’s curls tenderly, as the brunet was getting his ass fucked hard.

Dylan pulled out of Starsky and stroked himself to orgasm, spilling his seed all over the brunet’s ass and upper back.

“Great. Look at him. Now I have to clean him up,” Maggie said irritated.

“Why bother? The guys are just gonna mess him up again.” The tall man moved from between Starsky’s legs and stood up, stuffing himself back inside his jeans.

“You’re right,” she agreed.

Dylan glanced down seeing Starsky lying still with his head facing the other direction, away from all those in the room.

“Did you enjoy that, pig?”

There was no response.

“Well I did, but the fun’s not over, not by a long shot.”

***S&H***

“Cap’!” Hutch shouted, running into Doby’s open door.

The big man looked up. “Did you get the list?”

“Yes and there’s a total of twenty people who have that license plate. Now all we’ll have to do is call each one and ask if they’re a woman with red-hair, who owns a purple Dodge.” Hutch was so excited he could burst.

“Purple, huh?” Dobey commented.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Edith’s cousin bought one of em. The color was called Plum Crazy. So, let me get the straight. We’re looking for a red headed woman who owns a purple car?”

“Yes, cap’.” Hutch took his half the list and handed the other half to the rotund man, then sprinted to his desk to start calling.

 

Chapter Nine

The guys… That phrase kept running through Starsky’s head. That fucker raped me without lube, and it really hurt. Now more are coming to do the same. God, I wish he had come inside me, so at least there’d be some lubrication.

Anxiety grew as the brunet thought about what was going to happen to him. He tried to lift his head to see if anyone was still in the room with him because it was so quiet. He couldn’t tell if they both left, but he knew someone had after hearing the door shut.

The waiting was torture. He felt like he was having palpitations, and fear gripped his gut like a vice. He almost wished something would happen right now so this would be over.

This… my gang rape. Oh God. How am I gonna get through it?

He shut his eyes and saw his beautiful, blond lover.

Hutch, babe, where are you? You have to find me. Don’t let this happen to me… please.

Just then, Starsky heard footsteps coming from down the hall.

***S&H***

Hutch was down to one more person on his list. Before dialing the number, the blond held the receiver to his chest and closed his eyes.

Please let this be the one.

He began to dial and waited anxiously for someone to answer.

“Hello.” It was a man’s voice.

Hutch’s heart sank. “Hello. This is Detective Hutchinson from the Bay City Police Department. I need to know if you have a red-headed woman in your household who owns a purple—Plum Crazy 1970 Dodge Challenger.”

There was a long pause on the other end.

“Sir?”

“No.”

The next sound Hutch heard was a dial tone. He sat back, thinking. It was pretty obvious that this person was lying and hiding something. What he needed now was a search warrant so he could pay this lying son of a bitch a visit. Hutch got up and ran into his Captain’s office.

“Cap, I think I found the woman. I spoke to this man, and he sounded like he was lying. I’m going to need a search warrant so I can go and check it out.”

“Got it.” Dobey immediately placed a call to the Los Angeles County criminal court.

Hutch paced in front of Dobey’s desk, rubbing the back of his neck as he waited.

***S&H***

Starsky looked back to see that the red-haired woman had returned with five men following behind her. When she opened the gate, they all entered and stood beside each other in a row and stared at the bound, naked man on the bed.

“There he is boys. I want you to have fun with him. And make sure he feels every inch of you,” Maggie said, winking at the eager men.

All five men had reasons to be there. Each of them was seeking vengeance for wrongs they believed the dark-haired detective did to their friends and family. The men varied in size and age, but they all looked like they were from the wrong side of the tracks—unseemly. These men probably weren’t gay, but they didn’t have a problem fucking another man because they knew this would be the worst thing that could happen to the cop or any man. So they were eager to fuck him themselves because, the way they saw it…a hole is a hole.

Starsky managed to see the men, and his stomach turned at the sight. Some of them already had their cocks out, stroking themselves to hardness.

Shit! They’re all gonna take turns raping me. Oh God!

Maggie went over to get the folding chair she brought with her and opened it close to the bed so she would have a front-row seat to the action. She was about to sit down and tell the first man to get started when Dylan came running in.

“Maggie! Brian needs to talk to you!”

She glanced back and waved her hand. “Tell him I’ll talk to him later.” She turned and gestured for the man to move to the bed.

“I think it’s important. He said he got a phone call, and he needs to talk to you right away.”

“FUCK!” she shouted, rising from the chair. “Don’t do anything until I get back. I don’t want to miss a second,” she told the men, then looked at Dylan. “Stay with them.”

The tall man watched the woman leave and glanced at the men, who were quite disappointed.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be back soon, and we can get started.” Dylan said, smiling at Starsky.

Starsky let his head fall on the mattress and let out a breath. He had a little more time before his rape. He had a feeling that the phone call involved Hutch, so he lay there, praying that somehow Hutch would get here soon.

***S&H***

The red-headed woman stormed upstairs to the living room, where her husband was. “What is it?”

“Some cop called, asking about you.”

Maggie frowned. “What was he asking?”

“If a woman with red hair owned a purple 1970 Dodge Challenger.”

“Is that all he asked?”

“Yeah.”

“Then they still don’t know it was me. What did you tell him?”

“I just said no and hung up.”

“Good. Let me know if anything else happens.”

“Is it gonna start now?” he asked.

“It was until you interrupted,” she said, not hiding her annoyance.

“Did the guys I found show up?”

“Yes. Now if you don’t have any more questions, I need to get back so they can get what they came here for.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come and watch? They’re gonna rape the shit out of him.”

“I’m sure they will, but it’s not my thing to see guys fuck. I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it anyway.”

“I certainly will. I might decide to take pictures if the guys will allow it,” she chuckled.

“Sounds good.”

Maggie went back downstairs to get the party started.

***S&H***

Because this involved a missing detective, Dobey was able to expedite the warrant. After signing off on it, he handed it to Hutch, and the blond raced to the LTD. The address was in Lancaster, California, which was about an hour and a half from Los Angeles, so he drove like a demon to the place where he prayed his lover was being held.

***S&H***

While Maggie was gone, one of the five men moved closer to the bed, continuing to stroke himself, and looked down at the cop.

Starsky kept his face turned away, trying desperately to make believe they weren’t there. But suddenly he felt his hair being grabbed and his head forcefully twisted to face him. He looked up at the face of a bald, forty-something man with a beer belly and bad teeth.

“Hey, Cop. I want to get started now. I’m tired of waitin’.” The man stated this, placing the head of his cock at Starsky’s mouth. “Come on. Let’s begin with you suckin’ me off.”

Starsky tried to twist his head out of the man’s tight grip on his hair but couldn’t, so he pressed his lips firmly together, preventing entry.

“What the hell are you doin!” Dylan shouted, getting up from the chair to address the man. “You heard her say that we weren’t to start until she got back.”

“She ain’t the boss of me!” the man shouted. “I wanna get on with it.” He resumed trying to push his dick into the detective’s mouth when Maggie pulled open the gate.

“What the fuck is goin on here? Didn’t I say to wait until I got back?” Maggie strode quickly toward the man.

“I told him,” Dylan said, not wanting to take the blame for the eager man’s actions.

“Just for that, you’re goin’ last,” she told the man, then crooked her finger at the second man in line.

The man glared at Maggie as he stepped back in line, letting the other man step forward.

This guy was in his thirties, tall, and had an athletic body with blond shaggy hair and dark blue eyes. He quickly pulled out his cock and began to stroke himself. Then he noticed the position of the cop’s ass.

“Can you put a pillow under his hips? It’ll raise his ass up for better penetration.”

Maggie gave the cop a once-over and agreed. “Fine, but this time you’re going,” she said to Dylan. “And hurry back.”

Dylan jogged upstairs and quickly went to fetch a pillow from the living room.

Maggie walked over to the brunet and leaned down. “Did you enjoy his cock in that sweet ass of yours?”

Starsky turned his head toward the woman. “Go to hell, you fucking bitch,” he said in a deadly low voice. His blue eyes were blazing.

The woman straightened with a brief look of shock on her face, then turned to one of the men, pointing at him. “You. Fuck em. And fuck em hard.”

The third man in line came forward.

“Hey. I’m supposed to be next,” the blond yelled.

“You’re waiting for a God-damn pillow, and I don’t want to wait any longer.” Maggie went and sat back down on the chair, crossing her legs.

The next man was a burly Mexican with a thick dick, which he had already stroked erect. He awkwardly crawled on the bed between the brunet’s spread legs and laid a hand next to him while he guided his cock into the tiny hole.

Starsky managed to catch a glimpse of the man and shuttered. He began to rattle his cuffed wrists and ankles in a useless attempt to hinder the man’s advances, but the only thing he managed to do was make him more aggressive. The next thing he felt was a large phallus being rammed into him. Starsky pressed his face into the mattress and gritted his teeth, trying not to cry out, but as the man started thrusting, the brunet grunted loudly with each deep plunge.

***S&H***

By the time Hutch made it to the freeway, traffic was grid-locked. Apparently there was a crash ahead, so the blond decided that once he got to the next exit, he’d take surface streets, then get back on once he’d passed the accident. Since he was now on the streets, Hutch placed the strobe light on the roof to quickly clear out traffic.

***S&H***

The burly man came inside the detective and let his limp cock slide from between his cheeks. He backed off the bed, stuffed himself back into his jeans, and went over to stand next to Maggie.

“Thanks for this opportunity. I fucked him good, huh?” he told her.

“Yes, you did, and you’re welcome. Do you think you got enough out of his ass to justify him putting your uncle in prison?”

“Yeah, and then some.” The man looked from the worn-out man on the bed to the rest of the men. “Enjoy yourself, gentlemen. I think he’s ready for more.” He lumbered out of the room, shutting the gate behind him. As he walked down the hall, he passed Dylan, who had returned with a large pillow.

“It’s about time,” the blond said. “I’m gettin soft.” He began to stroke himself again as he walked toward the brunet.

The woman took the pillow from Dylan and brought it to Starsky. “Lift up your ass,” she ordered, but Starsky didn’t move an inch. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?” Starsky asked weakly.

The blond man looked at the woman and made a face, frustrated at yet another delay.

“You need to pee?” Maggie asked with a smirk.

“Yeah.”

The woman went to the large tote bag she brought with her and pulled out a bedpan. “I had a feeling this might be needed. Lift up so I can shove this under you.”

“Can’t I go to the bathroom?” Starsky’s sapphire eyes pleaded with her.

“No, you can’t. Use this or pee yourself.”

Starsky jangled the cuffs. “I can’t.”

“Christ. Dylan, lift him up.”

Dylan grasped the brunet’s hips and lifted him so Maggie could push the pan under him, letting his cock hang down in the opening.

“Now, get to it. We don’t have all day.”

Starsky was hoping he’d be allowed to go to the bathroom, but he should have known better. He wanted to have a little respite from this horrific ordeal and give Hutch time to get to him. Since it was a ploy, he really didn’t have to pee, and even if he had to, it wouldn’t be easy doing it in front of all these people, or rather, all these perverts and assholes. He sighed just when I thought my humiliation couldn’t get any worse.

A minute passed, and Starsky still hadn’t gone.

“Pee already! You’ve got thirty seconds before I remove it, and you can just pee on the bed.”

“It’s hard from this position and with everyone staring at me,” Starsky complained, knowing that she probably didn’t give a shit.

“How much longer are you gonna wait?” the blond man asked, becoming more and more irritated.

Maggie pulled the pan from under the cop. “I’ve wasted enough of our time,” she stated, looking at the blond. “Go ahead.”

He walked back to the bed and glanced at Dylan. “I’m gonna need you to lift him up again, so I can put the pillow under him.”

The tall man crawled between the brunet’s spread legs and lifted his pelvis. Starsky began to struggle, pulling on the cuffs and causing his wrists to become more painful and raw, but he didn’t want to make this easy for them. He wasn’t going to let them do this to him without a fight.

Dylan dropped the brunet’s hips and swatted him hard on his butt-cheek, causing Starsky to still instantly and hiss from the sharp sting. “Keep still, or I’ll take off my belt and whip your ass, like Shaun did.”

After hearing that threat, Starsky resigned to comply. The last thing he wanted was more pain. His butt-hole was throbbing from being fucked so hard. His throat was sore from trying to suppress his screams. His arms and legs felt numb from being kept in the spread-eagle position for so long. His wrists and ankles were hurting, and his mouth was dry. His tongue felt like it was swollen and about to choke him.

Starsky let the man lift his hips while Maggie pushed the pillow underneath him. Even though the pillow was comfortable and relieved the ache in his lower back, his buttocks were now raised, giving his next rapist better access to his ass for easier penetration. He turned his head toward the man who was about to go next.

“Please…please, can I at least have some water?” The brunet pleaded through parched lips.

The blond man looked back at the woman with an annoyed expression. “Aw, come on! Are you gonna let him keep stalling like this?

“You don’t want to wait for him to have some water?” she asked, amused, knowing what the answer would be.

“No, I don’t. I’ve waited long enough. I want to plunge into him and fuck him senseless,” he said, crawling onto the mattress.

“Sorry, handsome, the man’s out of patience.” She watched with enjoyment as the man put his cock at Starsky’s entrance.

Starsky laid his head back down in defeat, turning his face away once more. He knew the last man had come inside him, and he prayed it would be enough to lubricate him and prevent the horrible burn and agony once this guy entered him. Starsky steeled himself for the tip of his cock to push through the ring of muscle. He tried to relax and open himself up, but he still felt the sharp pain, although not as bad. This one must not have been as big, and the semen that filled his anus helped. Starsky was grateful and just laid there, enduring it. He had no choice but to lay there and take it…every inch of these fucking assholes.

While he was lying there, Starsky overheard the woman asking if the guy had gotten enough out of him to justify putting his uncle in jail. Now the brunet realized that all of these men wanted vengeance, just like Maggie and Dylan. Just like Flynn and Rambo. They had found men who wanted to get even with him. Now he thought about the last guy being his third rape, so there were two more to go. Two more times to be violated.

Hutch, where are you? Please find me, buddy…please.

Just then, the blond man began to pump hard and fast into the brunet’s already abused butt-hole. Once again, Starsky gritted his teeth and shut his eyes, trying to bear the continuous onslaught, and wishing he had just let them shoot him.

***S&H***

Once Hutch was able to get ahead of the crash, he made his way back on the freeway and raced to Lancaster. When he exited, he pulled over to take a look at the address. He’d never been to Lancaster, so everything was unfamiliar. He drove up to a gas station and went inside the 7-Eleven to ask for directions. The man told him he was about three miles away, so the blond jogged back to the LTD and drove according to the store clerk’s instructions.

The LTD pulled up to 5606 E. Ave., and from the curb, Hutch observed a single-family house with a Plum Crazy 1970 Dodge Challenger parked in the driveway. This has to be the place. Hutch immediately got on the horn and contacted Dobey.

“Captain, I’m at the address, and a purple car is in the driveway. I’m sure this is the place,” he announced with joy in his voice.

“That’s great! I’ll be there as soon as I can with a black and white.” Dobey ended the call and got things in motion.

Hutch exited the car and jogged up the path, stopping near the Dodge’s rear window. He looked inside, trying to see signs of his partner, then went to the front door and pounded on it.

***S&H***

Inside, Brian crept to the window and peered through the sheer curtain. He saw a tall, blond man and immediately knew it was the brunet’s partner.

“Shit,” he whispered. He needed to get to Maggie and alert her, so he hurried down to the basement. When he got to the gate, he observed the dark-haired detective being fucked by a tall Black man. Brian’s eyes grew wide, and he couldn’t take them off the sight. He’d never seen a man be fucked by another man before, nor did he ever want to. He was so mesmerized that he didn’t notice his wife coming toward him.

“What are you doing here? Decided to come check it out,” she smirked, glancing back at the assault. “Things are going well.”

“No, they’re not. His partner is here.”

“What!” Maggie shouted, causing everyone in the room to stop and look at her, including the man who was presently pounding into Starsky. “Don’t stop. Keep going,” she ordered him.

The Black man, who was fourth in line, nodded, then resumed ramming his large cock into the dark-haired detective, making him grunt in pain.

Maggie got up and quickly went to the gate. “Are you sure it’s him?” she whispered.

“I think so. He’s a tall blond.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“No. I didn’t answer the door.”

“You idiot!” she screamed, catching everyone’s attention once again, as well as Starsky. He raised his head weakly toward the angry woman. “Go answer the door before he breaks in!”

“What am I supposed to say?” Brian asked, panicking.

“That’s up to you; just don’t let him come down here and don’t say anything about me. Now go!”

She watched her husband scurry down the hall, then turned to Dylan.

“Dylan.”

He came to her with wide, fearful eyes.

“His partner’s here, and I need to leave. I want you to stay here and make sure that last guy gets his chance with him.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll contact you when I can.” Maggie pulled open the gate, shut it, and disappeared down the hall, leaving Dylan in charge.

“Okay. Hurry it up!” Dylan shouted at the fourth man, who was close to coming.

Starsky lay helpless as he continued to be penetrated by each man. His butt-hole was so sore that it was beginning to feel numb, but not numb enough. He still felt the tearing, burning sensation each and every time he was penetrated. As he lay there, he overheard the conversation with Maggie and the man. He told her that someone had come. Was it Hutch? God, please let it be Hutch.

The fourth guy finally came, shooting his load on the detective’s bare ass and upper back. He smacked the brunet on the butt before crawling off the bed and stuffing himself back into his pants. Then he turned to the last man.

“I guess you’re up, buddy, but I’m not sure how tight he’ll be now. That hole has gotten a real workout.”

“I don’t care. I’ve been waiting too long for this.” The last man, the balding forty-something, approached the worn-out, abused man on the bed.

Starsky lifted his head toward him, gazing with dark, weary eyes that were still full of fury. “No more. Just leave me the fuck alone. No more.” He tried to sound assertive, but in his weakened state, his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Shut the fuck up! You’re gonna take every inch of me!”

***S&H***

Brian rushed back to the door. “I’m coming! I’m coming!”

Hutch was just about to burst through when he heard the man approaching.

Pulling it open a crack, he said, “Yeah?”

The man looked to be in his fifties, with graying hair and an average build. Right away, Hutch could tell he was very nervous from the anxious look in his eyes.

“I’m Detective Hutchinson from the Bay City Police Department,” Hutch said, producing his badge.

“Whadaya want?”

“I’m looking for a red-haired woman who owns that car in your driveway,” Hutch said, looking back at the car.

Brian followed his gaze. He told Maggie to hide it in case someone came sniffing around, but she said, Who’s going to find her and the car all the way in Lancaster?

“Shit!” he said out loud.

“What was that?” the blond asked, actually hearing the expletive.

“Um…nothin. There’s no redhead livin’ here,” he said with false conviction.

“Well, do you mind if I come inside?” Hutch asked, moving to go in.

“Yeah, I do. Now get outta here!” Brian tried to shut the door, but Hutch’s body and foot prevented it.

He held the warrant up to the man’s face. “That’s not gonna happen. I have a warrant to enter, so I suggest you let me in, or I’m going to make this situation very unpleasant for you.” Hutch’s usually kind, pale blue eyes were now a shade darker and more threatening.

Brian swallowed at the look in the detective’s eyes and stepped back, letting him in.

“What’s your name?” Hutch asked, walking past him.

“Um, Brian.”

“Thank you, Brian.” Hutch told him, glancing around the living room, then moving to the kitchen with Brian on his heels.

“What exactly are you lookin for?”

“I’ll know it when I find it,” Hutch replied, checking out the kitchen. He looked in the sink and noticed that there were two sets of used plates and mugs.

“Brian, is there someone living here with you?”

The man saw the dishes in the sink from his and Maggie’s breakfast that morning. “Um…no. My neighbor came by this morning to have breakfast.”

Hutch eyed him suspiciously. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Back there, but we don’t have any toilet paper.”

“That’s okay. I won’t need any.” Hutch went into the bathroom, with Brian following him, looking confused. While inside, Hutch picked up a small trash bin and took a pencil from his pocket. He pushed the contents around, hoping to find evidence of the person he was searching for. After not finding any, he looked for a hair brush and found one on a shelf under the medicine cabinet. When he picked it up, the fair-haired man saw strands of red in the bristles and held it up to Brian.

“Who’s hair is this?”

The man’s eyes darted around nervously.

“Okay. Now you listen to me,” Hutch said in a dangerous tone, pointing his finger at him. “You’d better tell me where my partner is right now.” The blond’s 6-foot frame loomed over the shorter man, causing him to swallow hard.

***S&H***

“I don’t believe this!” the last man shouted, with a look of disgust on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Dylan asked, getting up and walking toward the bed.

“This mother fucker has something comin’ outta his ass.” He took a closer look at Starsky’s butt-hole. “Looks like blood, semen, and…shit,” the man stated, appalled.

Dylan looked down at the detective, and sure enough, it looked like a combination of semen, blood, and feces were oozing from his anus.

“Fuck!” Dylan exclaimed. “What? You don’t wanna fuck him now?”

The man thought it over. “I’m gonna have him do what I wanted him to do before that red-haired bitch stopped me.” Once again, he stroked his cock and went closer to the brunet, grabbing a fist full of curls to yank his head up. “Instead of fuckin’ your ass, pig, I’m gonna fuck your pie hole. Open up.”

When the man pressed the tip of his cock to Starsky’s lips, the brunet closed them tight.

“Oh no, you don’t—not again.” He squeezed Starsky’s nostrils shut, forcing the dark-haired man’s mouth open. Once he gained entry, the man shoved his dick inside.

Starsky started gagging and tried to twist his head away, but the hold on his hair was too strong.

“Come on. Suck,” he urged, shaking the curly head to get him started.

Starsky felt like he was suffocating and about to pass out, so he bit down hard on the man’s shaft.

The man screamed and abruptly pulled his cock out, causing Starsky’s teeth to scrape his sensitive skin. It was sheer agony, and the man continued to shriek, then punched Starsky on the side of his face. He fell to his knees and rolled onto his side, clutching his aching cock as he groaned.

At that moment, Brian appeared with a very angry blond man behind him. Hutch was holding his piece at the man’s back as he ordered him to open the gate. The man did as he was told, then Hutch shoved him roughly into the room. He glanced down at the writhing man on the floor, then at the man standing near a bed where his partner lay naked, spread-eagle, and cuffed. Hutch immediately raced to his partner’s side.

“Starsk, I’m here, buddy. I’m here,” he said in a soothing, hushed tone while caressing his damp curls. He waited for his lover to respond and meet his gaze.

Dark blue orbs met pale ones, as the lover’s connected. “Hu…Hutch. Wha…what took ya so long, huh?” he asked weakly.

“I’m sorry, babe. I got here as soon as I could, but I’m here now, and everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Can ya get these cuffs off me?” The brunet stated, rattling the ones on his wrists.

Hutch glanced back at Dylan and Brian, who were slowly creeping toward the gate. “Where the hell do ya think you’re going?” Hutch asked, aiming the Magnum at them. “You stay put and shut the gate.”

Brian closed it and turned to the tall blond.

“Which one of you has the key to these cuffs?” Hutch asked, gesturing his head toward Starsky.

Dylan and Brian exchanged looks, then Dylan pulled it out of his jacket pocket.

“Open them. NOW!” Hutch bellowed and stepped back to give Dylan room. “Take it easy,” he warned as he watched him carefully unlock all four cuffs, then hold them.

“I want you to give one to him.” He observed Dylan as he went to Brian and handed him a pair of cuffs.

“Now, cuff yourselves to the gate.”

When it was done, Hutch went to his partner, who was still lying spread eagle. “How ya doin buddy?”

“I can’t move my arms and legs. I was in this position for a long time.”

“Lemme help you.” Hutch put his piece back in its holster, then kneeled close to the bed and massaged the stiffness from his lover’s shoulder and hip joints. With Hutch’s assistance, Starsky gradually lowered his arms to his sides and brought his legs together. He massaged his sore wrists, while Hutch massaged his ankles. Then he watched as Starsky groaned and turned away, drawing his knees to his chest in a fetal position. At that moment, Hutch noticed blood mixed with some other fluid leaking from his partner’s ass.

Damn. They raped him.

Hutch glanced back at the two cuffed men with rage in his eyes. He rose quickly and lunged at Brian, placing him in a chokehold. “What did you do to him? Tell me or I’ll choke the life out of you!”

Brian struggled with the big blond, trying to remove his arm from across his throat. It was hard for him to answer, but he managed to rasp out, “No…not…me. Wasn’t me. I didn’t…do…anything to him.”

“Then who!” Hutch shouted, not letting up on pressing the man’s larynx.

Hutch looked Brian in the eyes and saw them shift to the other man.

The blond abruptly let him go, and Brian clutched his throat as he coughed violently and struggled to breathe.

After releasing him, Hutch grabbed Dylan’s throat with both hands. “You son of a bitch! Did you rape him? Did you!”

Enraged, Hutch had a death grip on Dylan’s neck, and the man fought to keep from being choked out, but he managed to say, “Wasn’t…just…me.”

“Whadaya mean, wasn’t just you?” Suddenly, Hutch saw Dylan’s eyes roll back in his head, a sign that he was about to black out. Hutch knew that if he was going to get any answers, he needed to stop. So he removed his hands from the man’s throat and slammed him against the gate, aiming his Magnum at him.

“Talk!”

Dylan held his throat, coughing and unable to speak, but Hutch wasn’t having it. He pressed the barrel to the man’s temple. “I said talk, or I’ll blow a hole in your skull,” the blond threatened, cocking the gun.

“It wasn’t only me! There were five guys!”

Hutch’s sky-blue eyes widened in shock. “Are you tellin’ me that five guys, including you, raped him?”

Dylan only nodded, with fear in his eyes, as he saw the fire in the tall detective’s blue ones.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you!” Hutch shouted, pushing his gun into his holster so he could kill the man with his bare hands. He resumed his choke hold, determined to choke the son of a bitch to death this time.

“Hutch!”

Through his blind rage, Hutch wasn’t able to hear his friend calling out to him.

“Hutch! Please! I need you! Hutch!” Starsky was using every ounce of strength to shout at his lover to distract him from killing the man. He would have wanted him to do it, but Starsky knew how horrible Hutch would have felt afterwards. Killing someone in cold blood would eventually destroy the flaxen-haired detective.

Somewhere in the distance, Hutch heard a voice. A familiar voice called him. Pulling him away from the dark, murderous place he’d gone to. As the voice became clearer and stronger, he knew it was his partner. His best friend. His lover. His everything who was calling to him…needing him, and there wasn’t anything on this earth that would prevent him from going to him.

Hutch loosened his death grip on Dylan’s throat and backed away. He watched the man drop to his knees, gasping for air. When he looked down at him, Hutch punched his head into the gate, knocking him out.

Brian looked on in horror, as did the other man, who was still lying on the floor. The man cowered as the big blond turned his attention to him.

“Did you rape him too?”

The man looked up into Hutch’s cold, steely blue eyes, afraid to answer.

“ANSWER ME!”

“No. I didn’t get the chance,” he said meekly, hoping his answer would appease the angry blond.

After leaning down to pick up the remaining set of cuffs, Hutch dragged the man to the gate, with his bitten cock still hanging out of his pants. He cuffed him to one of the bars, then gave him a swift kick to the face, causing him to pass out.

With all three men restrained, Hutch ran to his partner and kneeled beside him. “Buddy. I’m here.”

“Hutch, I’m cold.” Starsky was shivering, folding himself into a tight ball.

Hutch looked around the room and saw a discarded pair of white pants and a t-shirt. He picked them up and brought them to Starsky.

“You can put these on.”

“No, not those. I can’t put those on Hutch.”

He heard the anxiety in Starsky’s voice. “Okay buddy. Let me go find a blanket. I’ll be right back.” Hutch turned to go upstairs when Starsky grabbed his arm.

“Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me here.”

Hutch looked down at the pleading dark blue eyes of his lover, and it broke his heart. He knelt back down. “Never babe. I’ll never leave you.”

Hutch straightened, then bent down to lift Starsky up and carry him to the closed gate in his arms.

“Open it!” Hutch ordered, and Brian quickly obeyed, struggling to pull it with the two unconscious men leaning against it. He managed to open it wide enough for Hutch to get himself and his abused, naked friend through. He carried his partner down the hall and up the stairs with only one conscious man looking on.

***S&H***

When Hutch was going through the house earlier, he came upon a bedroom. He took Starsky there and laid him softly on the bed, on a patchwork comforter, gathering it around Starsky’s trembling body.

“Th…thanks Hutch,” he said through chattering teeth.

“You’re welcome, babe. Are ya hurting bad?”

“My butt-hole. It’s really sore. Hopefully we still have some of that ass ointment left, huh?” Starsky said, managing a small smile.

“Ya got a shiner blossoming too.” Hutch examined the bruise just under the brunet’s eye.

Hutch sat on the side of the bed. “I know you were raped again, Starsk, by at least five men. And I know they hurt you bad.”

Starsky glanced up at his lover with soft blue eyes. “But I’ll be okay, Hutch. Just like the last time,” he assured, trying to make light of the horrific situation.

“Starsky, I’m not gonna let you get away with that attitude this time! You were gang raped, for God’s sake! It’s not like the last time at all!”

Hutch didn’t try to keep the anger from his voice. Starsky needed to know how serious this was.

“You’re going to the hospital,” he continued, and before the dark-haired man could object, Hutch pointed a finger in his face. “I don’t want to hear it! You’re going to the hospital, and that’s that!”

Starsky knew that look on his partner’s face and that tone in his voice. There would be no arguing with him. The brunet also knew that he needed to go to the hospital this time, and he’d just have to deal with the consequences later.

“Okay Hutch. Whatever you say,” Starsky whispered with weary sapphire eyes.

The intense cerulean ones softened, and Hutch lowered his finger. “Good. Now, I’m gonna call for an ambulance. There’s a phone on that end table over there, so I won’t leave you, okay?”

Starsky nodded and closed his eyes, exhausted.

***S&H***

Once Hutch was done, he wanted to go check on the cuffed men in the basement. He glanced at Starsky, who appeared to be asleep, so he thought this was a good time to do it. He made his way to the basement and discovered the two men were still out, with Brian sitting on the floor next to them. The man got to his feet as soon as he saw the big blond, and fear went through him again.

Hutch stood at the gate and stared at Brian. “What’s your part in all of this? And you better not lie to me.” His tone and blue eyes were menacing.

Brian gulped. “I just found the men for her.”

“For whom?”

“My wife.”

“The red-headed woman?”

“Ye…yeah.”

“You found men to rape my partner. Why?”

“Your partner sent one of our boys to prison, where he killed himself and the other one was killed. She needed to get even.”

“Where is she now?”

“I don’t know.” After seeing the look in the blond’s eyes, he quickly added, “I swear, I don’t know.”

“Do you have the men’s names?”

Brian nodded.

“Good. You give them to the police when they arrive.” Then he glanced down at Dylan. “And who’s he?”

“He’s the brother of the other guy who was killed with my son.”

Hutch thought about it and saw that he resembled Rambo, the big asshole, who had raped his partner. So he and the redhead got together to avenge their family members. Great.

“Would he know where she went?”

Brian shrugged.

At that moment, Hutch heard a scream come from upstairs. He bolted up the stairs and found Starsky thrashing and crying out, “Get off me! Leave me alone! Stop!”

After sitting on the bed, Hutch gathered the brunet into his arms, rocking him. “Shhh, babe. It’s okay. I’m here. Shhh.”

Starsky calmed down and opened his eyes. “I was having a nightmare,” he said, trembling.

Hutch brushed sweat-dampened curls away from his forehead and kissed it tenderly. “It wasn’t real, babe. It’s all over now. You’re okay.”

Starsky moved out of Hutch’s embrace to look him in the eyes. “God, Hutch…what they did…all of them,” he said with haunted dark-blue eyes.

He pulled his partner to his chest and caressed his curls. “I know, babe. The woman was the mother of those twins, and the guy was the brother of that big piece of shit, who raped you. But it’ll only be a matter of time until we get all of them. Her husband knows who the other ones are.”

The abused man looked up at his lover with pained cobalt eyes. “Why Hutch? I was only doin my job. Why?” Hot tears welled up in Starsky’s eyes, and as usual, Hutch took in his pain, embracing him and letting him cry. “It’s gonna be alright, Starsk. I promise. We’re gonna get every last one of them. I promise.”

“Until the next one comes along,” Starsky said miserably.

“There won’t be a next time.”

“You don’t know that, Hutch. What if every fucker I busted decided to have someone come after me?”

“Starsk, please; don’t think like that. How long have you been busting shit on the street?”

“Seven years.”

“And in all that time, this is the first time anything like this has happened. This is an aberration.” Hutch saw the perplexed look on Starsky’s face and explained, “It’s out of the norm. It’s not something that should have happened.”

“But it did.”

Hutch tried to convince Starsky that this probably would never happen again, but shit, he wasn’t even sure of that. All they could hope is that it wouldn’t.

He sighed. “God, Starsk, we can only hope it wouldn’t, but you can’t keep thinking it might. This just happened, and it’s a raw, open wound that, in time, will close and heal. And like you said, you’ll be okay…just like the last time.”

“With your help, huh?” he stated, giving Hutch a small, crooked smile.

“You know it, buddy.” He put a finger under Starsky’s chin, tilting his face up, and pressed his lips against his. The kiss lasted a few seconds before they parted and gazed into each other’s eyes. The look conveyed everything that wasn’t said aloud between them.

Suddenly, a knock at the front door interrupted their tender moment. They announced themselves as the police and Hutch got up from the bed. “Babe, I have to let them in, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Starsky nodded and curled up in the comforter, turning his back.

Hutch opened the door to two uniformed officers, stepping back to let them through. “They’re downstairs in the basement.”

Captain Dobey rushed in behind the officers. “How’s Starsky?” he asked, breathing hard.

“He’s in bad shape, Cap’. I want to thank you for coming to handle things, while I go to the hospital with him.”

“Of course. Are they in the basement?”

“Yes, and talk to the men named Brian and Dylan. They’ll give you all the information you’ll need.”

“Okay.” Dobey went downstairs, just as two EMTs—one male and one female—arrived pushing a stretcher. They stopped to let Hutch lead them to the injured man, but beforehand, Hutch needed to go ahead of them and prepare his partner for the journey.

“Hold on a second. I need to talk to my partner.”

The EMTs were waiting outside the bedroom to give them privacy.

“Starsk, babe, the ambulance is here.” He waited for Starsky to turn toward him. Once he did, Starsky glanced at the two EMT’s in the doorway, then looked at Hutch. The blond saw the fear in the cobalt eyes. “It’s okay, Starsk. I’ll be with you the whole time, okay?”

With a slight nod, Starsky laid on his back and let the EMT’s lift him onto the gurney, with Hutch assisting and making sure it was done right. Once they secured and covered Starsky with a blanket, he was pushed out to the awaiting ambulance. After hoisting the gurney in back, Hutch climbed in and sat on a bench beside Starsky, gripping his hand tightly.

Once the ambulance door was shut, the driver got behind the wheel and took off for Memorial Hospital with the siren blaring.

“What happened?” the assisting female EMT asked.

“He was assaulted.” Hutch glanced at Starsky before he continued, noticing the brunet’s eyes were shut. “Sexually…by I believe five men.” His voice was just above a whisper.

The woman frowned and shook her head. “I’ll let the attending doctor know.”

Hutch nodded and looked down at his friend. With his eyes closed, Starsky looked so peaceful, but the blond knew he was anything but. Hutch washed a hand over his face, not believing this had happened again. Like Starsky said, he was only doing his job.

 

Chapter Ten

The ambulance arrived at Memorial, and the EMT’s transported the brunet to emergency, with Hutch running along beside the gurney, still gripping his lover’s hand. Just as they got inside the swinging doors, a female triage nurse stopped him.

“I’m sorry, sir. You’re going to have to wait in the waiting area.”

“No. I’m going in with him. I’m his partner,” Hutch said adamantly.

“Sir, it’s not allowed. You have to wait in the waiting area,” she said, trying to block the tall man from following the gurney.

“You don’t understand. He’s suffered a trauma and needs me to be there with him.”

A thirty-something male physician was observing the agitated man from behind the nurse’s station and came to assist.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said, touching Hutch gently on his arm and turning to the nurse. “Nancy, I’ll take it from here.” The young woman nodded and went back to her duties.

“Hello. I’m Dr. Mitchell,” he said, extending his hand.

“Detective Ken Hutchinson.” Hutch shook his hand abruptly. “Doctor, I need to be with my partner.”

“Who’s your partner?”

“Detective David Starsky.”

“We received a call that an officer had been assaulted. Is that him?”

“Yes, and he’s going to want me there with him,” Hutch implored.

“I understand, Mr. Hutchinson, but you need to let the attending physician and nurses do their jobs to treat him. You’ll be notified immediately after they’re done.”

Hutch looked forlornly toward the ER entrance, then at the doctor. “Can you at least let him know that I’ll be waiting out here for him?”

“Of course. Now, please, go to the waiting area, and don’t worry. Your partner will be well taken care of.” He smiled, touching Hutch’s arm again.

The blond nodded, then slowly walked toward the area and slumped in a chair with his head in his hands. Strangely, he was the only one in the ER. It must be a slow night for a change, he thought. But he was grateful. The last thing he wanted was to make small talk with anyone.

***S&H***

Hutch jumped up from where he was seated as a doctor approached.

“Hello. I’m Doctor Khan. I’ll be Mr. Starsky’s physician while he’s here.”

The two men shook hands.

“How is he?” Hutch asked anxiously.

“Mr. Starsky is doing well under the circumstances. On getting the information that he experienced sexual assault, we tested him for a number of sexually transmitted diseases.”

“And?” Hutch asked, eyes widening.

“Your partner tested positive for gonorrhea.”

The blond’s eyebrows were raised. “The clap?”

“Yes. We’ll be giving him an antibiotic that should clear it up quickly.”

Shock turned to relief as Hutch nodded.

“He also had some tears.” Dr. Khan didn’t think it was necessary to go into detail.

“Does he need surgery?”

“No. We just applied nitroglycerin ointment.” The doctor noticed a small nod of recognition from the tall blond. “You’ve heard of this?”

“Yes, I have.”

Dr. Khan continued, “We also noticed that he has welts and abrasions on his buttocks and thighs.”

Hutch saw the questioning look in the doctor’s brown, almond-shaped eyes.

“Yes, um, someone wanted to get even with him.” He briefly made eye contact with the doctor, then lowered his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain.

Dr. Khan gave him an odd look but didn’t say anything further. His patient wasn’t being treated for those injuries.

“Can I see him?” Hutch asked, hopefully.

“Yes. He’s in room 259.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Hutch shook his hand again, then headed for Starsky’s room.

***S&H***

When Hutch entered the room, Starsky was sitting up and smiled when he saw his lover’s beautiful face.

After turning to shut the door, Hutch moved quickly to him and leaned down to kiss his lips. When he straightened, he looked into the handsome face. “I’m so sorry, babe. They wouldn’t let me come in with you. How ya doin?” he asked, grasping the hand that was lying on his chest.

“Well, the examination felt like I was being assaulted again, but I guess they had to do it.”

“Yeah, they did, babe; I’m sorry.” Hutch whispered, caressing his face. “Other than that,” he continued. “How are you doing?”

“Okay. Did they tell ya?”

“Tell me what?” Hutch asked, sitting on the side of the bed, not releasing his hand.

“About one or more of those fuckers givin’ me the clap?”

“Yeah,” he replied, more embarrassed than his partner seemed to be.

“I had it in high school. Got it from this chick, who everyone said was a slut, but I still wanted to do her…ya know, to save face.” Starsky glanced at his partner for confirmation, and the blond smiled.

“Well, the doctor said you’d get an antibiotic, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I hope not. The last time it burned like a son-of-a-bitch when I tried to pee.”

An awkward silence filled the room until Hutch asked, “So, babe, how ya feeling? Really.”

Starsky couldn’t handle the look that was in the pale blue eyes, so he looked away. “Like I said, I’m okay.”

Hutch held his gaze until Starsky looked him in the eye, and once he did, the brunet saw the intensity in his partner’s eyes.

Looking away again, Starsky sighed. “I dunno, Hutch. I’m tryin’ to deal with it, ya know?”

“I know.”

“The thing is, I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to move on from it…this time.” Starsky took in a ragged breath. “I was trying so hard the last time to get over what happened, and I think I was beginning to…then this happened. Now… I kinda feel like I don’t wanna try anymore.” Starsky met his partner’s eyes.

Hutch laid down next to him and wrapped his arms around him. “But you have to Starsk. You have to keep trying.”

“Why?”

“Because if you give up, I’m gonna have to give up too.”

Starsky’s brows furrowed, and he looked into his lover’s face. “Why would you have to give up?”

“Because without you…there is no me.”

The brunet let that statement hang in the air for a moment, then said, “I feel the same way, Hutch,” he said, tears welling in his sapphire eyes.

“So, you see why you can’t give up. Why you can never give up.”

“Yeah, but what am I supposed to do? Please tell me, Hutch, what I’m gonna do to get through this…this time?” Tears were streaming down Starsky’s face.

Hutch held him tighter, pressing the dark head to his chest. “Baby, you’re gonna take it one second, one minute, and one day at a time. And we’re gonna get through this just like every other time—together. The two of us can get through anything as long as we do it together. Me and Thee.” Hutch’s words were reassuring as he held his friend, letting him sob.

After a few minutes, a knock came at the door, and a male nurse came in. He was a tall, attractive young man with bright hazel eyes and short, cropped brown hair. Once he came in, he stood in the doorway, watching the two men in their embrace before speaking.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have to give Mr. Starsky his antibiotic now.” The young man pushed a cart toward the bed and began to prepare the syringe.

Hutch stepped out of the way and stood by the window with his arms folded, observing. He glanced at Starsky and saw the look of panic in his lover’s dark blue eyes.

Starsky was never a fan of needles. Hutch remembered the time the brunet had given him a pep talk when crazy Diane was about to give him a shot. He was telling him to be a brave little soldier. Now it feels like the table has turned. He got closer to the bed.

“What’s wrong, Starsk?”

Starsky glanced at the nurse’s name tag. “Paul, I thought it was gonna be a pill or somethin’?” He asked, staring wide-eyed at the needle.

“No, it looks like it’s going to be an injection,” Hutch answered. “So you’re just going to have to be a brave little soldier.” He patted the side of the brunet’s face. “Oh, wait a minute,” he said, searching his pockets. “Damn, no bullet for you to bite, so I guess you’ll just have to grit your teeth.” Hutch couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

Starsky narrowed his eyes. “Ha ha, you’re really funny.”

The nurse held up the hypodermic needle, giving it a tap, then looked down at Starsky. “Okay, Mr. Starsky, please turn on your side.”

The brunet gave a worried glance at Hutch, then the nurse. “Why?”

“So I can give you the injection.”

Once again, Starsky looked at his partner with a puzzled expression.

“Starsk, he has to give it to you in your butt.”

“My butt?”

“Yes sir. Please turn to your side.”

With fear in his eyes, Starsky glanced at his best friend.

Hutch smiled. “It’ll be okay, buddy. I’ll be right here. You need him to give this to you.”

Starsky’s eyes moved to the smiling, nodding face of the nurse, then reluctantly turned, and the nurse pulled open his hospital gown to expose his butt-cheeks. While the injection site was being sanitized with alcohol, Starsky scrunched up his face, anticipating the prick.

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Hutch asked, in baby talk.

“No, thank you.” Starsky glared, and before he realized it, the nurse had injected him.

“There. All done, Mr. Starsky.” Paul covered the brunet’s bare ass and began to gather his supplies.

“Oh…really? Thanks,” Starsky grinned.

“Would you like a lollipop, sir?” Paul asked with a smile.

Starsky raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure if the young man was being funny, but he decided to ask anyway. “Do you have one?”

Hutch snorted.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Paul said with a wink, then left the room.

Starsky blinked and looked at his lover. “Did you see him wink at me?”

“Yeah. I think he was flirting with you.”

“Flirting with me?”

“Sure. Why not? You’re a gorgeous, hunka man with a great ass. I saw the way he was looking at it when it was unveiled.”

Starsky made a face. “With all the scars, I doubt it. And how did he know we weren’t a couple? I mean, he saw us in bed when he came in.”

“Well, maybe that didn’t convince him, or maybe he wants to challenge me for you.”

“Ya mean, fight over me?” Starsky asked, his eyes brightening.

“Yeah.”

“Would you fight for me?” Starsky asked innocently.

Hutch looked at him incredulously. “What do you think, Mush-brain?”

“Did it make you jealous?”

“Nah.”

“Why not?” Starsky was a bit offended.

“Because he doesn’t pose a real threat. Besides, once he knows that we are a couple, he’ll back off.”

Hutch sat back down on the side of the bed and placed his hands on the sides of his lover’s face. Then pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

Just then, the door opened, and it was Paul. He looked astonished at the two men.

“Um, excuse me again, but I found a lollipop for you.” He hurried over and gave it to Starsky, then quickly left.

“Well, I guess he’s got the message now, huh?” Starsky smiled, unwrapping the candy and popping it into his mouth. “Mmm, cherry, my favorite.”

Hutch went to sit in the bedside chair to observe his friend. For now, it seemed like Starsky didn’t have a care in the world. All thoughts of his horrific gang rape forgotten…for now. For this moment, he was able to enjoy the simple pleasure of sucking a lollipop. Hutch knew this moment wouldn’t last, and reality would come crashing back. But until then, he hoped this moment would last as long as possible.

The curly-haired man began to stare into his blond lover’s eyes as he sucked and licked the hard candy on a stick. His tongue moved so sensually that Hutch felt his cock twitch.

“Starsk, what the hell are you doing?” He asked, shifting in his seat to relieve the pressure building in his cords.

“Nothin. Just lickin’ my lollipop,” he said, continuing to do it very, very slowly while not taking his indigo eyes off the sky-blue ones.

“Um…Starsk, I think you should stop.”

“Why? You’re not enjoying it, Blondie?” Starsky knew his lover was, from the way he kept fidgeting in the chair. Besides, he could see his semi-erection from the bed.

“We’re in a hospital, Gordo. Anyone could just walk in at any moment, like Paul did.”

Starsky stared at his anxious lover for a moment, then sighed. “Okay, Blintz. I’ll stop,” he said, still licking the lollipop but not erotically. “It’s just that…” he trailed off.

“What?” Hutch inquired.

“I just wanted a distraction from…all this.” His upbeat mood became sullen.

Now Hutch regretted stopping him, but he knew that wasn’t the best distraction considering where they were. Wanting to bring back Starsky’s good mood, Hutch needed to come up with something.

“Okay, Gordo. What did you have in mind?”

“It doesn’t matter. It was a dumb idea anyway,” Starsky admitted solemnly.

“Tell me. I wanna know.”

Starsky saw the serious expression on Hutch’s face, so he admitted it. “I thought…maybe…I could…ya know.”

“No, I don’t know Starsk. What are you talkin’ about?”

“Can’t we…do something that no one would see if they came in?”

Hutch frowned. “And what might that be?”

“I dunno—maybe a handjob under the blanket?”

“You want me to give you a hand-job?”

“Yeah,” Starsky replied sheepishly.

Hutch bit his bottom lip as he glanced at the door. “I don’t know about this Starsk.”

“Okay. Fine. We won’t do it.” Starsky settled down to sulk.

After blowing out a breath, Hutch got up and walked to the bed. “Move over.”

Starsky looked at him with questioning eyes. “What?”

“Move over, Gordo, so I can get in the bed.”

Starsky eagerly slid over and pulled back the blanket. Once his partner was covered, they lay there staring at the ceiling until Hutch turned toward Starsky.

“Okay. Now what?”

He met Hutch’s eyes. “Um…I guess we do it.”

“You, or me?”

“Me,” Starsky said quickly.

“Why you?”

“Because you’re the one who got hard while you were watchin’ me suck the lollipop.” Starsky lifted up the blanket. “And by the looks of it…you still are.”

Hutch observed his cock and knew he needed some relief. After a quick glance again at the door, Hutch unzipped his cords, lifted his hips, and pushed them below his buttocks, along with his underwear. He began to stroke his cock, and Starsky batted his hand away.

“Hey, that’s my job.” Starsky turned on his side and propped his head on his hand, while the other one grasped the thick phallus and fondled it beneath the blanket.

The blond closed his eyes and began to moan. He had to make sure he wasn’t too loud so as not to alert the hospital staff. But as his lover continued to stroke him, it was becoming difficult.

Starsky looked down into Hutch’s face, seeing the handsome features contort as the ecstasy of pleasure was building in his loins. He started pumping him faster, causing the big blond to moan louder. With his hips bucking off the mattress.

“God Starsk. That feels so good.”

“Are ya close?”

“Ye..yeah.”

“Okay. Let’s get ya there, partner.”

All of a sudden, the door opened, and a middle-aged female nurse poked her head inside.

The two men looked toward the door, and Hutch slumped down, pulling the blanket over his head in hopes that he couldn’t be seen.

Starsky immediately removed his hand off Hutch’s dick and placed it on top of the blanket. He looked at the nurse and noticed she was staring wide-eyed at the bed. When he followed her gaze, he saw that his partner was tenting.

Mortified, Starsky tried pushing it down, causing Hutch to let out a yelp, making his presence known.

“Um…I wanted to know if you needed anything.” She asked with a polite smile.

“No, thank you. I’m good,” Starsky said, embarrassed.

“I’d say you are.” She smiled, her eyes shifting from Starsky to the lump next to him.

Starsky watched her leave, then he glanced at Hutch. “Did you hear the way she said that? I think she knew what we were doin’.”Hutch rose from beneath the blanket. “I’d say she did.”

“Do you think she’s gonna tell?”

“I dunno, Starsk.”

Once again, the door opened, and the same nurse stepped inside. And Hutch didn’t have a chance to disappear under the blanket this time.

 

“I wanted to let you know that I won’t tell on the two of you. I’ll just put this on the door, so no one will bother you.” She held up a sign that read, “Procedure in Progress. Do Not Enter.” After hanging it on the door knob, she winked and shut the door.

“Well, I guess that answers your question, Starsk.”

“Yeah. So she’s giving us permission to get busy?”

“It would seem like it.”

Starsky sat up and pulled the covers off them, exposing Hutch’s waning erection. “Terrific! So let’s get it on!”

“Hold on. Just because she’s letting us do this doesn’t mean we should go crazy.”

“Why not?” Starsky went about getting his lover hard again.

“For one, we’re still in a hospital.”

“And what’s two?”

Starsky’s hand was making Hutch’s brain start to falter. “What’s that?”

“Two. What’s two?”

“Two what?”

“Never mind,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Just lie back and keep your mouth shut.”

Once his lover’s cock was hard again, Starsky dipped down and took him into his mouth. While this was happening, he squeezed and rolled the blond’s balls. In seconds, Hutch cried out.

“Shhh!” Starsky uttered.

When Hutch came down from his climax, they laid together in silence until he recovered. Then he turned to his lover. “Okay. Now it’s your turn.” Hutch lifted Starsky’s hospital gown and grabbed hold of his cock.

“No, Hutch,” he said, removing his hand from his dick.

“Whaddaya mean? Now it’s your turn.”

“I don’t want you to. So don’t, okay?”

Hutch looked into this lover’s serious eyes. “Okay.”

Hutch adjusted his clothes and got out of bed. “I gotta use the john.”

Starsky watched his friend, feeling bad. He knew Hutch was upset. He wanted to return the favor, but he didn’t want it. He just didn’t want to be touched that way. He knew it was because of what happened, and he prayed that this feeling would go away soon.

After peeing, Hutch washed his hands, and as he was drying them, he thought about what just happened. Starsky had never turned down a handjob before. It was obvious that what happened to him was making him feel like this. The violation of his body was too much, and he just couldn’t take being touched intimately—even from his lover. Hutch understood that, but it still hurt. He longed to touch him in that way and hoped Starsky would let him soon.

***S&H***

Starsky was released from the hospital the next morning. Before his discharge, Hutch took a cab back to Starsky’s place to pick up the Torino. He decided not to bring his beat-up LTD because he knew his partner wouldn’t be happy about it. And with all he’d been through, the last thing Hutch wanted was to make him unhappy.

When Hutch pulled up at the entrance, Starsky was sitting in the required wheelchair. As soon as he saw his beloved candy apple-red baby, he leapt from the chair and ran to the driver’s side.

Hutch opened the door and got out. “Where do you think you’re going?” the blond asked, stopping Starsky from pushing him aside to get behind the wheel.

“I’m drivin’. Move,” he replied, still trying to shove Hutch out of the way.

“No, you’re not. You were just released from the hospital.” He glanced at the nurse, who had wheeled him out. “Besides, do you want to make me look bad in front of the pretty nurse over there? What kind of friend would she think I was to have you drive yourself?”

Starsky looked over at the nurse, who smiled and waved. After smiling and waving back, he reluctantly walked to the passenger side. “Fine.”

Once Starsky was in, Hutch gave the nurse a wave over the roof of the car, then got behind the wheel. He glanced at his partner, who was staring straight ahead, sulking.

“Come on, Starsk. There’ll be plenty of opportunities for you to drive this tomato on wheels.” Hutch thought he was being funny until he saw the look on his lover’s face.

Starsky glared at him until the car pulled away from the curb, then he resumed staring out the front window.

***S&H***

Hutch pulled up in front of Starsky’s place and shut off the engine, then turned to the brunet. “We’re here.”

After his partner didn’t react, Hutch wanted to ask, ‘You okay?’ but instead of saying it out loud, the blond waited for Starsky to make eye contact. Once he did, the two friends spoke silently to each other through their eyes. Then Starsky gave him a small smile with a slight nod, and Hutch did the same.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you inside.” Hutch got out of the car and waited for Starsky to walk around to his side, then wrapped his arm around the curly-haired man.

Once they got to the apartment, Hutch reached over the door sill to retrieve the key. He opened the door and let Starsky move past him before shutting the door. He turned to see Starsky standing in the center of the living room, looking around, seemingly lost. He let his partner have a moment before he approached him.

“Hey Starsk. Are ya hungry? I can fix you something,” he said, walking to the kitchen.

“Nah. I’m really tired. I think I’m gonna lie down for a while.” Starsky turned and slowly went into his bedroom, closing the door.

Hutch stood in the kitchen and watched his lover disappear into his bedroom. He knew this homecoming wouldn’t be great for his dark-haired friend, considering all that happened here, but it was his home. He didn’t want his best friend to sink deeper and deeper into depression. Hutch knew Starsky needed to talk it out, so he went up to the door.

“Hey Starsk. Can I come in?”

Nothing.

“Babe, can I come in, please?”

“Yeah,” he replied after a minute.

Hutch pushed the door open and observed Starsky lying on his side, on top of the blanket. After quietly shutting the door, Hutch walked up to the bed and sat down.

“Starsk, ya wanna talk?” When he didn’t respond, Hutch continued, “Come on. Talk to me, please.”

Starsky slowly turned on his back, and Hutch saw tears in his eyes.

“Babe, are you hurtin’ bad? I can get you some Tylenol.” Hutch stood to get it, and Starsky grabbed his hand.

“No.”

Hutch sat back down and held the hand in his. “Then what is it?”

Starsky looked into the pale blue eyes of his lover. “It’s…everything Hutch. Everything that’s happened to me. They messed me up. I feel…I feel broken. Like a part of me is destroyed.” The last statement was spoken so low that Hutch could barely hear it, but he did.

“You feel like this now, but…”

“But in time, I won’t,” Starsky interrupted. “It’s that ‘time heals all wounds’ crap, but you don’t know that. What if I feel like this for the rest of my life?”

“It won’t, because that’s not how the human mind works. Right after a traumatic event that has affected your body and mind. Your body is immediately in the process of healing, but the mind takes a little longer, but it does heal in time. The feelings that you have now won’t always feel like this. It can’t. As a human being, your body and mind are in a state of flux, constantly changing. Therefore, you won’t be the same as you are now or think the way you do now. Sorry, pal, but it’ll take time for that to happen.”

“But what about the spirit—my spirit? I feel like they’ve destroyed that too.”

“Do you want them to have done that to you? Do you want them to have destroyed your spirit? Do you want them to have accomplished what they set out to do?”

Starsky frowned. “No, of course not.”

“Then you’re the only person who can make sure that doesn’t happen. They won’t win. They won’t destroy you. Do you understand Starsk? I will do everything I can to help you, but when it comes down to it, it all depends on you.”

Starsky thought about it and knew that his wise partner was right. He can’t let them win. This is what they wanted to do—destroy him, and he can’t let that happen—to him or Hutch.

“Just gotta wait and in time…huh?” Starsky managed a small smile.

“That’s right, partner.” Hutch squeezed his shoulder, shaking him gently.

“Ya feel like eating something now? I can make a couple of omelets.”

“Sounds good, but I think I should put some more ass cream in my ass first.”

“Need any help.”

“No. They taught me how to do it myself.”

Hutch wasn’t sure if that was true because he knew Starsky didn’t want to be touched there, even by him. So hopefully he’ll actually be able to do it to himself correctly.

 

Chapter Eleven

It’s been a little over a month since Starsky’s assault and release from the hospital. The perpetrators were all apprehended with the information Brian provided for the police. That red-haired bitch was picked up a few hours after Starsky was taken to the hospital. She was spotted at a gas station, filling up her tank.

Starsky wrote a statement about his assault, and I handed it in for him. I tried to leave out the gory details, but it had to be enough to put them away for a long time, and thankfully it was. Brian got less time because he supplied names and addresses that led to their quick capture. Also, his statement and my testimony made for a speedy trial.

Physically, the welts and tears have healed. His mental and emotional state seems to be improving as well. He’s becoming his old self again—cracking jokes and being a smartass. I have noticed that he no longer sleeps on his stomach, and I can understand why. Other than that, he’s been trying hard to get back to normal.

He’s getting back in shape and building up his stamina, so he’s been running. But he’s still not comfortable going alone, so I tag along, and I don’t mind. In the past, we’ve gone jogging together many times, and now I want to be there to look out for him anyway. Considering the last time he went out alone, I don’t blame him for being anxious. And when we’re out, he seems to be wary of people, keeping his distance.

Things seem to be moving in the right direction, except when it comes to being intimate. We kiss, and he fondles me. He’s even gone down on me, but he won’t finger me or penetrate me. It’s like he doesn’t want to have anything to do with my ass. Ever since the hospital, I’ve been trying to get him to at least let me jerk him off or suck him, but he declines every time. And he doesn’t let me get anywhere near his ass.

I remember this one time, when we were kissing- hot and heavy—and one of my hands traveled near one of his butt cheeks. He freaked out. I understand why he feels like this, and I’m trying my damnedest to be patient, but it’s getting harder and harder—no pun intended. I mean, my curly-haired lover is sex on two cute, little, bowed legs. It’s so difficult to keep my hand off every inch of his body. And he still thinks he has scars on his ass and doesn’t believe me when I say they’re barely visible anymore. He refuses to take a look himself, but I’m not going to give up trying to get him to do it.

There’s also been an issue of when we’ll be getting back to work. Dobey calls to see how Starsky’s doing and asks when he can expect us back. I told him I didn’t know. I feel that if Starsky got back to work, it would be a great distraction for him and aid in his recovery. So after three weeks of being home, I spoke to him about it when we were sitting at the kitchen table.

“So, Starsk, when do you think you’ll be ready to go back to work? Dobey’s been asking me.”

He looked at me with those big blue eyes and shrugged.

“Starsk, can you at least estimate a time for me to tell him?”

He sighed. “I dunno, Hutch. I can’t say right now.”

I tried to remain calm and not show him how frustrated I was. “Starsk, I know it’ll be hard, but maybe you should try.” I looked at him with kindness and understanding.

He lifted his eyes, then lowered them, staring at the top of the table. “I’m not ready, but if you want to go back, go.”

I wasn’t sure if that statement was meant to be biting, but that’s the way it felt. “Starsk, you know I wouldn’t want to go back without you. I could never imagine being assigned to another partner.”

He looked at me. “Then stop pushing me, Hutch. I’ll go back, or…

“Or what?” I asked him.

After looking me straight in the eye, he said, “I won’t.”

I raised my eyebrows at his declaration. I never thought that would be an option for him—not to go back to a job he loved. I watched as he got up from the table and went into the bedroom, shutting the door. I didn’t discuss it with him any further.

Now it’s over a week later, and I want to bring it up again. I’m sure I know why he’s hesitant to return to work, but I want to hear it from him. I’m at the kitchen table this morning, waiting for him to come out of the bedroom. When he does, I watch him do the same thing he does every morning. He drags his ass into the kitchen, yawning. Then he pours himself a cup of coffee and slumps in the chair opposite me.

“Good morning.” I’m my usual cheerful self in the morning, which I know he hates. He glares at me and grunts.

“So, what’s on the agenda this morning?” I say, taking a sip from my mug.

He takes a sip and looks at me over his. “Nothin.”

“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we go down to the station for a little while? We won’t stay long; just say ‘Hi’ to the captain and Minnie. They’ve been worried about you.”

Starsky’s looking at me like I’ve grown a second head.

“What’s wrong with that suggestion?” I ask.

“What part of ‘I’m not ready to go back to work right now’ don’t you understand?”

He can hear the anger building in his friend. “You’re not going back to work, Starsk. We’re just stopping by to say, ‘Hi.’

“Yeah, so everyone could look at the cop who was fucked by five guys and not just any guys. Guys who he busted and wanted revenge—so they decided to take it out of his ass. No thanks.” Starsky got up from the table and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

I go to the door and lean against it. “Starsk, I think we should talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about? I just told you why I don’t want to go.”

“I still want to talk about it.” I wait until I hear the toilet flush and he comes out, rushing past me. I follow him into the living room, and he switches on the TV, then sits on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. I sit next to him, and he’s trying to tune me out, so I get up and turn it off.

“Whadaya doin? I want to watch that,” he complained.

“And I want to talk to you.”

“Fine. Talk.”

Starsky sat with his arms folded, glowering at me.

“You said you don’t want to go to the station because of what everyone will think when they see you.”

“Yeah. So?”

“Starsk, you don’t know what they’ll be thinking when they see you.”

“Oh, so are you tryin to tell me that they’re all going to ignore what happened and treat me like they did before? Like it’s just another day at the station. Are you sayin that Dobey won’t look at me with pity in his eyes? That Minnie won’t be giving me a hug because she feels sorry for me?”

I had to admit that he was probably right. A lot of people might not be able to hide their feelings, but he shouldn’t let that stop him from trying to get back to some kind of normalcy in his life.

“And let’s not forget,” the brunet continued. “What do you think Simonetti and Dreyden are gonna say, huh? Do you think they’re going to tell me how sorry they are that that happened to me, or are they going to say that they always thought I liked taking it up the ass, faggot? Tell me, Hutch, what are they gonna say?”

I blow out my cheeks. He’s making a lot of sense, but he can’t let these assholes control his life.

“Oh, and what about the street?” Starsky asked, sitting on the edge of the couch.

“The street?”

“Yeah, once what happened to me hits the streets, no one will ever respect me again. My reputation will be ruined. And every sewer rat I bust in the future is going to want to get revenge the same way those assholes did. Every time I bust someone, I’m gonna wonder if he’ll be planning to get back at me for sending him to jail.”

Once again, my curly-haired partner was right. What happened to him was probably all over the streets by now, but Hutch needed to find out for sure. He needed to talk to Huggy to get the lowdown. Maybe there’ll be a chance that his street reputation can be salvaged, if not his job.

First things first. I need to deal with Starsky’s rage and concerns. I stand up, not wanting him to say anymore. “Okay Starsk. You can stop. I get it. You never want to step foot in the precinct ever again, but tell me something.”

“What?”

“Have you thought about what you’d do if you didn’t go back? What would happen to you? What would happen to us? Have you thought about that?” I couldn’t contain the frustration in my voice. He threw all those questions at me; now I had a few for him. “Huh, Starsk? Can you answer those questions?”

Starsky stares at me for a moment, then gets up from the couch.

“Where are you going?”

“To get dressed, I need to get outta here.” He goes into the bedroom and, moments later, comes out in cutoffs, a t-shirt, and his Adidas.

“Hold on. I’m going with you,” I say, rising from the couch.

“No, I don’t want you to go with me. I need to be alone…to think. I promise I won’t go far.” When he gets to the door and pulls it open, he turns around. “And I promise not to get kidnapped this time.” He gives me a small smile, then walks out.

I immediately leap to my feet and get dressed. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let him go out alone. The last time, the scenario was similar. He was pissed at me and needed to get out, so I let him go. I wasn’t going to let that happen again, so I grabbed my keys and headed out.

***S&H***

After getting into my old LTD, I drive slowly until I spot him. He’s running, and his stamina has improved a lot. He’s moving at a pretty good pace. I continue behind him, and within a few minutes, he stops to catch his breath with his hands on his knees. When he looks back and sees me, he jogs over.

“Hutch, what the hell are you doing here?” He shouts.

“I’m following you. There’s no way I was going to let what happened to you happen again.”

“Oh, so now you believe that can happen. What I was afraid of could actually happen to me again.”

“Starsky, get in and let me take you back so we can talk.”

“No. I’m out for a run,” he said, jogging in place. “I’ll jog back myself, and if you want to drive along, be my guess, but you’ll have to keep up with me first.”

Suddenly, Starsky took off like a shot, running down the road and turning into a side street to make sure I wasn’t able to follow. I sigh and drive back home to wait.

***S&H***

When I get back to Starsky’s apartment, I’m so nervous that I can’t sit. I pace, running my hand through my hair. I keep glancing at the clock, and it’s now ten minutes later. I can’t take it anymore, so I grab my keys again and decide to head out to look for him.

Just as my hand was on the knob, the door opened. We’re both startled, then Starsky brushes past me. “Headin’ out to look for me, huh?”

“Um…no. I was just going to check the mail,” I say, chagrined.

“Yeah, right, Blintz. You never were a good liar.” He pulls open the fridge and grabs a can of beer. “Ya want one?”

I shake my head and watch him guzzle it down—his throat muscles moving with every gulp—then he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Sweat is running down his face, forming tiny wet ringlets on his forehead. The front of his t-shirt is soaked, and suddenly he pulls it over his head and wipes it over his face, bare chest, and underarms. God, he looks so fucking sexy.

I’m watching him. No, I’m leering at him.

His eyes move from my face to my crouch, and he smiles. “Hey. I’m gonna take a shower,” he announces and saunters into the bathroom.

He gave me a hard-on and he knows it, but I can’t deal with it right now. I need to talk to Huggy before he comes back out, so I go to the phone in his kitchen and punch in our lanky friend’s number.

“Huggy here; have no fear.”

“Hey Hug, it’s Hutch.”

“My blond brother. What’s shakin? Haven’t seen you and your other half in here in a while.”

“I know, Hug, a lot has been happening. Look, have you heard anything on the street about a cop being kidnapped?”

“Lemme think. Yeah, I remember three miscreants sitting at the bar. I heard them sayin somethin’ about a pig being taken and messed up bad. And I know they weren’t talkin’ about the pork variety.”

“Did they describe this pig?”

“No, but they did say it had somethin’ to do with revenge. Why? What’s with the questions? By the way, where is your other half?”

After pausing, Hutch responded, “Hug, I believe they were talking about Starsk.”

“What?”

“Starsky was kidnapped, and they messed him up. I’m trying to find out if it’s hit the streets.”

“Aw, man. Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s doin a lot better. Well, Hug, I guess you just told me what I needed to know.”

“Well, tell em I’ll have a cold brew and an extra special, special waitin’ here for him.”

“Will do, Hug. Bye.”

I go back to sit on the couch as he comes out, with a small towel wrapped around his hips, showing a portion of his left thigh. He’s vigorously rubbing another towel on his head, drying his curls.

“Who was that?” he asks.

“Huggy.”

“What did he call for?”

“He didn’t; I called him.”

Starsky looks at me, puzzled.

“I needed to ask him something.”

“Spill it, Blondie. What’s gonna on?” He asks.

After sighing, I explain, “I wanted to know if what happened to you hit the streets.”

He pads closer to me with wide eyes. “And?”

“Yeah. It has.”

“How do ya know?”

“Huggy overheard three thugs talking about a cop being taken.”

“How do you know they were talkin’ about me?”

“Think about it, Starsk. There were no other cop abductions recently except you. We can’t be one hundred percent sure, but I believe they were talking about you.”

“Terrific.” Starsky looks off in the distance again, then looks at me, his dark blue eyes weary. “Hutch, I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay?”

I wanted to say that we had to, but the pain in his eyes made me change my mind. “Sure Starsk. We can talk about it later.”

***S&H***

I know Hutch and I need to talk, but I just don’t want to deal with it right now. I know what I said earlier took him by surprise—deciding not to return to work. To be honest, I was a bit surprised to have said that out loud myself. But now, after hearing that what happened to me had hit the streets, I’m thinking that might be the best decision. Like I told Hutch, I don’t want to subject myself to all that ridicule. When tough, macho cops catch a whiff of homosexuality, they’re like a dog with a bone. They’ll make my life a living hell. There were too many homophobic cops in the department, and knowing that I was raped would make them look and treat me differently.

Also, we were always looked at funny. They think we spend too much time together, and they see us touching each other; therefore, we’re probably gay. Well, the truth is, that’s kinda why we initially hooked up in the first place. We did spend a lot of time together and became even closer when we had to care for each other. We would be there for one another in every way possible. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for Hutch, and the same goes for him.

There was that time after Gunther when Hutch was my sole caregiver. He didn’t hesitate to do whatever he could to make me feel good. One evening, because my muscles were aching, he gave me a full-body massage. I only had a towel over my groin, and from his adept administration, I became erect. It was really embarrassing. I remember looking into his face and shrugging, feeling myself flush. Hutch smiled and suddenly took hold of my dick and started milking me. After the initial shock of what he was doing wore off, it felt fucking incredible. Having that big, strong hand on my cock, and I came in a matter of minutes. Afterward, it was awkward as hell, but we just went on like it didn’t happen until another opportunity came up.

Hutch would always complain about his neck hurtin’. I was sure it was due to stress. He’d roll his head on his shoulders to relieve some of the ache. There was this one time when we were at his place. I noticed him doing it, so I decided to massage his neck and shoulders. I thought he’d resist, but he didn’t. He just shut his eyes and started moaning. It sounded like he was getting off on it. The more I massaged out the knots, the more he’d moan. Then I glanced down at his crotch, and a nice bulge had blossomed. His eyes popped open, and he glanced down at himself, then looked at me with panic in his pale blue eyes. At that moment, I remembered what he did for me, and I thought this was a perfect opportunity to repay the favor.

So, I kneeled between his legs and locked eyes with him. I silently communicated that I wanted to do this, and I hoped he was okay with it. He smiled and nodded, so I opened his cords and pulled out his stiffening dick. I pumped him until he climaxed, but afterward, I didn’t want to make believe it didn’t happen.

I sat next to him and cupped the side of his handsome face. “Hutch, I have to tell you something, and if ya wanna punch my lights out, I’ll understand.”

At first, he frowned, then searched my eyes as if to try and read what the hell I was talking about. When he nodded, I continued,

“I…um…feel something…um when we’re together.” I can no longer look into his eyes, so I lower them to my wringing hands. “Now I can’t help…um, getting…ah…aroused sometimes. Like, just then. You weren’t the only one who got hard.” I glance down at the bulge that was in my jeans, then look in his face. “Ya wanna sock me, don’t ya?”

Hutch looks away, smiling sweetly, like he was contemplating my words. This look always went straight to my groin. Once our eyes meet again, I see tears in his.

“Starsk. I can’t believe you said that. I’ve been feeling the same way for a long time now. Ever since I gave you that hand job, I’ve felt turned on when we were together. It was so damn hard sometimes. I hated to walk behind you because I couldn’t stop myself from staring at your ass.

I snort and feel myself blush.

So from that point on, me and Hutch have kept it our little secret. There’s no reason why anyone had to know. It was between the two of us—me and thee. Soon, all the hand jobs turned into more. We experimented with doing things to each other to find what we liked and didn’t like. We knew we enjoyed women going down on us, so we tried it on each other, and to our surprise, we were pretty good at it.

Then we became daring and tried some ass play. At first, we were both scared—not because we knew it would hurt, but because of what it might mean—that we were gay. Since it was just the two of us, we decided to go for it. After buying a large jar of Vaseline, we started with one finger, then two, and then three.

Once we graduated from that, we went on to try the unthinkable. We figured we got through three fingers; how bad could a penis be? Well, it was bad…at first…for the both of us, but soon we started to like it. And not only did we like it, we craved it. Shall I say, we began to fuck like rabbits.

Now, we’re partners in every sense of the word, and we love each other…really love each other. There’s not one without the other, so I know what I said has to be discussed. If I don’t return to the job, I know he won’t either. The problem is, I haven’t thought past what I said. I don’t know what I’d do…what we’d do. I dash into the bedroom and throw on some clothes before he comes out, and I wait for him.

 

Chapter Twelve

Hutch walked out of the bathroom, still looking flushed, as he moved toward the couch and sat next to Starsky.

“So Starsk. Have you thought anymore about the questions I asked you before you went out for your run?” Hutch asked, turning toward him with his knee on the cushion.

Starsky leaned down and rested his elbows on his knees. He cast his eyes at the floor, wringing his hands nervously. “Yeah, I have, and I don’t think I can go back, especially after hearing that it’s on the street.” He looked back at his lover with sorrowful eyes. “I’m so sorry, Hutch. I know how much being a cop meant to you too.”

Hutch sat next to his lover, their thighs touching, and wrapped a long arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. “The only thing that means anything to me is you, Gordo. I don’t care about being a fucking cop. All I care about is you. And whatever you want is what I want.” He turned the brunet’s face and tilted up his chin, then kissed him. They both slid back on the couch and looked into each other’s eyes.

“You sure?” Starsky asked.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Starsky narrowed his eyes.

“Besides that time, I faked amnesia,” Hutch grinned.

“No, you haven’t. So, what do we do now?”

“Well, after sending in our resignation letters, I’m thinking we’d join that Canadian Football League for real this time.” Hutch tried to keep a straight face but had to chuckle after seeing his lover’s expression.

Starsky snorted. “I wonder what the Cap’ would say about it?”

“About us joining the Canadian Football League?”

“No dummy. About us resigning?” He asked seriously.

“Well, he won’t like it, but I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Starsky rested his curly head against the big blond’s shoulder. “I hate this so much. Having to change our lives because of what some assholes did. I just wish we could go back in time before any of this happened.”

“That would be wonderful, babe, but unfortunately we can’t. There’s only the present and the future.”

“Then can we at least change the present and this conversation?” Starsky put his hand on Hutch’s knee and slowly slid it up his inner thigh.

“Whadaya doin babe?”

“Whadaya think I’m doin Blintz?” Starsky’s hand continued its journey to his groin, teasing the growing bulge with his fingertips.

It had been a while since they’d been sexually intimate. After Starsky’s assault, he wasn’t interested in sex, but soon the brunet was feeling guilty that he wasn’t attending to his lover’s needs. So he gave Hutch blowjobs and handjobs, still not being able to penetrate him or go near his ass. This didn’t bother the blond much, because at least it was some kind of sexual contact.

In the past, Hutch would just lay there and let his lover take control, not wanting to do anything that would upset or turn him off. Now, he watched as Starsky gripped his scrotum through his cords and the big blond raised his hips to meet the hand.

All of a sudden, Starsky leaped off the couch. “Hutch, let’s get naked,” he suggested, grabbing the blond and pulling him into the bedroom.

“Take off your clothes and lay on the bed,” Starsky ordered as he feverishly removed his own clothes.

While naked and flat on his back, Hutch looked wide-eyed at his lover. It seemed like his insatiable partner was back. And just as he was about to wonder what made this happen, Starsky spread Hutch’s legs and knelt between them. Then he took hold of the base of the large cock, devouring the bulbous tip.

The blond laid back with his arm under his head, observing his lover’s curly one bobbing up and down on his stiffening phallus. He shut his eyes tight as his balls were rolled, making him buck uncontrollably.

“Jesus, Starsk.”

Starsky withdrew his hand from Hutch’s scrotum and sat on his heels. “Lift your knees and spread em.”

Hutch obeyed, and Starsky laid down between his thighs. And soon the blond felt something warm and wet move across his puckered hole and his perineum. The sensation of that tongue made Hutch moan loudly, and he wondered how far Starsky was going.

Suddenly, Starsky got off the bed, and Hutch raised his head. “Where ya goin?”

“Just need some lube. I know it’s been a long time since we’ve done this, so you’re probably a little tight.” Starsky coated two fingers with the lubricant and pushed them in slowly. “Relax and open up for me, babe.”

After taking a breath, Hutch felt Starsky’s fingers sink deep inside his narrow canal. The brunet twisted the digits, then bent them upward. The big blond got a sudden jolt of pleasure that ran through his loins, causing him to cry out. Mischievously, Starsky did it again, enjoying the way it made his lover react, then extracted them.

“Okay, babe, I think you’re ready for me now. Just lemme get a bit harder,” he said, pumping his cock.

“Starsk, you’re okay with this?” Hutch asked breathlessly, not sure he could handle Starsky stopping at this point.

Starsky locked eyes with him and smiled. “Yeah, I am.” He touched the tip of his cock at Hutch’s entrance. “Now relax.”

Soon Starsky’s penis was sheathed in the blond’s hot center, and the feeling of being so full was overwhelming. Hutch needed him to move. “Please, Starsk, fuck me. Fuck me hard.” His body was twitching with anticipation.

Not having to be told twice, Starsky was just as anxious to do this to his lover. He wished this could have happened sooner, but being violated twice was too devastating. He didn’t want anything to do with that part of his body or anyone else’s. Just thinking about anal play would bring back those horrific experiences. But now he felt differently. Starsky wasn’t sure why, but looking at his beautiful blond lying there so vulnerable and waiting for him was enough to make him forget all about any issues he had. It was about pleasuring his lover, and he’d missed this, and he knew Hutch did too.

Starsky placed his hands on the mattress, on either side of the blond’s head, and gazed down into the pale blue eyes. “I know you’ve been wanting this for a while, babe. And I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to ya, but I’m gonna try to make up for lost time.” With that statement, the brunet began thrusting into him hard and fast.

Hutch threw his head back with his mouth falling open, as if needing to take in more air. A grimace formed on the handsome features from Starsky’s relentless pounding and the feeling of being very close to orgasm.

Looking down at Hutch’s rock-hard cock, Starsky gave him an order: “Pump yourself along with my thrusts.”

The blond reached down, lifting his abandoned dick off his belly, and started pumping it like there was no tomorrow. Soon they were in a steady rhythm, and Hutch’s breathing became erratic. An assortment of unintelligible sounds started emanating from his usually eloquent partner. And in a matter of seconds, hot semen squirted all over his belly.

Starsky still wasn’t there yet and continued to thrust into his partner until his load flowed deep inside the tight canal, then collapsed onto the blond, breathing heavily.

Hutch wrapped his arms around him and let Starsky’s head rest on his smooth, hairless chest. And the sated lovers lay not moving for a few minutes in the darkness of the room, listening to each other’s breathing.

“God, Hutch. I missed that so much. I’m so sorry,” Starsky declared.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, babe. I’m surprised you were up to it now.” Hutch ran his fingers through Starsky’s sweat-dampened curls. “You have to realize the magnitude of what you’ve been through, buddy. It’s no wonder that you weren’t up to anything. And I would have patiently waited until you were ready, and if that never happened, I’d be okay with that too.”

Starsky raised his head to look at his partner’s face. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You like being fucked too much.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the only one.” Hutch swatted Starsky on his naked butt-cheek and immediately regretted it.

“Shit! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Calm down, Blondie. It’s okay. You can touch my ass if you want,” Starsky told him, grinning and wiggling.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Besides, I know how much you love to do it, but…”

“But what?”

Starsky turned on his side and propped his head on his hand. “Does it look…I mean…is it?”

“Babe, I’ve been trying to get you to take a look at it for yourself.” Hutch left the bed and pulled Starsky up. “You’re going to take a look right now. I’m tired of you not believing me.”

The brunet let Hutch push him to the full-length mirror hanging on the closet door and turned Starsky’s back to his reflection. Then Hutch went to get a hand-held mirror and handed it to him.

“Now, look in the mirror.”

Starsky hesitated, not wanting to see what he’d been afraid of.

“Come on, Starsk. Take a look.”

Gradually, he raised the mirror and saw the unmarked flesh on his buttocks and the backs of his thighs. “Hey, I don’t see anything,” Starsky said with bright cobalt eyes and a crooked smile.

“I told you. You’re all healed, buddy,” Hutch said, loving the happiness in his lover’s face.

Starsky handed the mirror to Hutch and ran his hands over his cheeks, feeling no scars. “I’m so relieved, Hutch. I was so scared that every time you fucked me, you’d be reminded of…ya know.”

“I know, babe. But that’s not gonna happen.” Hutch turned his partner around to face the mirror and wrapped his arms around his body. They looked at their reflections, and Hutch observed, “You are so fuckin’ sexy, and I can never get enough of this body.” He began to slide his large hands over the soft hairs on his lover’s chest and belly while nuzzling the sensitive skin on the brunet’s neck.

Starsky enjoyed the attention for a while, then said, “Hutch, we need to talk.”

The blond stopped abruptly and studied his lover’s face in the mirror. “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just think we should discuss what I said earlier.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. I’m ready to talk about it now.”

He saw the distress in his partner’s eyes, and it pained Hutch to see it there.

“Okay, partner. Let’s talk.”

The lovers went back to the bedroom and sat on the bed, pushing themselves back against the headboard. They held each other, both still naked, in the darkened room—Hutch with his arm around Starsky and Starsky’s head resting on Hutch’s shoulder with an arm around the front of the blond’s body.

“Ya know, buddy, I’ve been thinking. What about transferring to another precinct? That way, no one there would know what happened. It would be like we were starting fresh,” Hutch suggested, caressing the curly head.

Starsky sighed. “I dunno Hutch. Everything will be different. We’ll have to get new snitches, and it was hard enough to get the ones we have.”

“For the right price, anyone could be a good snitch, Starsk.”

“And what about the captain?”

“What about him?”

“Ya have to admit, he’s been a really good boss. I mean, we’re like family, and moving away from his, especially little Rosie would be hard.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Oh, and let’s not forget Huggy and The Pits. Where would we go after work to hang out?”

“Starsk, I’m sure whatever precinct we’ll be transferred to will have good places to do that.”

“Yeah, but there’ll be no Huggy or his specials. Plus, he’s been a really good informant.” The more Starsky spoke, the more disillusioned he was becoming.

They lay together quietly for a moment until Hutch stated, “It seems like you’re having a change of heart, partner, but what about all the worries you had about the station and all the assholes?”

Starsky sat up cross-legged on the bed to look at Hutch’s face. “The way I see it, if they give me any grief, I can see to it that they’ll have a little less teeth.”

“So, your solution would be to punch their lights out every time they said something to you?”

“Yeah.” Starsky saw the look on his partner’s face and reconsidered that idea. “Or when it happened, you could stop me…like you always do.” The brunet grinned, feeling that was the best one.

“Or maybe you could just ignore them.”

The brunet raised an eyebrow. “That might be easy for you to do, but have you met me?”

Hutch chortled. “It’s just a suggestion, Starsk. Have you thought about when you’re on the street and someone says something?” Hutch asked, leisurely rubbing his hand along the hairs on Starsky’s bare thigh.

Starsky contemplated it. “Well, I could tell them I’ll throw em in jail for verbally abusing a cop.”

“Starsk, you can’t do that. Now, if they physically abuse you, then you’d have that choice.”

“Okay, then if they say anything, their face will accidentally fall into my fist.”

After snorting, Hutch shook his head. “Okay. So, it sounds like you want to stay in Bay City.”

Starsky laid back down and rested his head on the blond’s chest. “Yeah.”

“And continue being cops.”

“Is that okay?” Starsky asked, looking up in Hutch’s face.

He touched his dark-haired partner’s cheek. “Of course it is, babe. I told you whatever you want is what I want.”

Starsky tilted his face up and kissed Hutch’s lips tenderly, then put his head back down. “Terrific. Now everything’s back to normal.”

“That’s right, partner.” Hutch held him tight, giving him a light peck on his thick curls.

Starsky sat up again, looking worried. “No, it’s not.”

“Whadaya mean?”

“Everything isn’t back to normal. We’re not back to normal.”

Hutch moved back against the headboard. “I’m not following, babe.”

“I want you to…”Starsky looked away, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed to voice his need.

“You want me to what?”

“Love me,” the brunet stated simply with large sapphire eyes.

“I do love you. You know that, Gordo,” Hutch responded incredulously.

“Yeah, I do Blondie, but I’m not talkin’ about that kind of love.”

He read his lover’s face and the need in his eyes, and it dawned on Hutch that his lover was asking him to make love to him. Starsky finally wanted that physical contact with him that he was too afraid to do before. But Hutch needed to make sure. “Babe, are you saying you want to have sex? You want me to penetrate you?”

Starsky nodded.

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

Starsky sat in front of his lover and grabbed his hands. “Yeah, I am. I want to feel you inside me. I need us to become one again. It’s been too long, babe, and I’m not letting those fucking bastards stop me from living my life anymore. My life with you,” the brunet stated with conviction and sincerity in his dark-blue eyes.

“I’d like nothing more.” Hutch brought one of Starsky’s hands up to his lips, kissing the palm tenderly.

“Terrific, but not on my stomach, okay?” Starsky asked, lying down on his back.

“Whatever position you want,” Hutch stated, knowing the reason and wanting to make this as comfortable for his friend as possible.

“Ya want my legs up?”

“Yeah. Bring your knees to your chest and hold your legs open.”

Once Starsky did as instructed, Hutch got on his belly and put a hand under each buttock, raising the brunet’s hips and groin to meet his mouth. Then he dragged his hot, moist tongue between his cheeks and over the puckered entrance, making the opening wet.

Starsky watched as the blond’s tongue moved from his anus up to his perineum. He alternated between sucking and licking the sensitive area, causing the brunet to gasp.

Hutch continued to the underside of Starsky’s balls to the tip of his cock, which was lying on the flat belly. When he was done, Hutch went back and sucked one of Starsky’s sacs into his mouth.

“God…Hutch.” Starsky moaned as he bucked and gripped the blanket.

When it felt like his lover was good and horny, Hutch sat back and snatched a pillow from the head of the bed. He pushed it under Starsky’s ass, then reached for the lube and squeezed a generous amount on his index finger.”

“I’m going to slowly slide my finger in. Tell me if it’s too painful.”

“Okay.” Starsky braced himself and tried not to tense up. It’s been a while since anything has penetrated his sphincter, and he knew there would probably be some pain.

As the big blond’s finger began to enter the tiny opening, he felt some resistance. “Starsk, ya gotta relax and open up.”

Starsky shut his eyes, concentrated, and soon Hutch’s finger slid right in.

“That’s good. Now I’m gonna start thrusting.”

“Blintz, you don’t have to give me a blow-by-blow account of what you’re gonna do. It’s not like I’m some kinda virgin. Just prepare me, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry. I just don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I know, but I’m not made of China.” Starsky smiled.

He started thrusting his finger into his lover’s ass, then decided to add a second. Suddenly, he heard Starsky take in a sharp breath and remove his fingers immediately.

“No, Hutch…don’t stop. Keep goin, please.”

“I think two fingers are too much for the first-time babe,” the blond warned.

“Your dick is thicker than your index finger, and if you’re gonna fuck me, you need to at least put in two.”

Hutch sighed. He knew his curly-haired partner was making sense, so he slid his fingers back in.

“Now, fast. Do it fast,” Starsky urged.

The flaxen-haired man obeyed, thrusting his fingers into his lover hard and fast.

“Yeah…that’s it. Yes!”

After a few more thrusts, Hutch curved his fingers up to locate Starsky’s prostate. When the brunet arched up and cried out, he knew he’d hit the target. And in retaliation for what Starsky did to him, the blond touched it a few more times, smiling at the reaction.

“Hutch…I…need…you in me…now.”

Hutch removed his fingers and lubed up his cock with a good amount of the slick substance. Once he’d figured there was enough, he put Starsky’s legs on his shoulders and positioned his blood-red bulbous tip at the puckered hole. He didn’t think Starsky wanted or needed another warning, so he pushed in, easily breaching the ring of muscle. He paused for a second to let his lover adjust to his girth, then started pounding into him with fervor.

“So good, Hutch…so fucking good.” Starsky pressed the back of his head into the mattress, holding onto his knees. His sapphire eyes shut tight from the intense pleasure. “Can I touch myself, huh?” he asked, panting.

“Sure…babe. Go…ahead,” Hutch replied, continuing to ram into his partner.

Starsky lifted his rock-hard phallus off his belly and pumped it until he let out a loud groan of ecstasy. He lay sated until his lover’s body stiffened and his cock released its load deep within him.

Once Hutch’s cock slid limply from his ass, Starsky let his legs drop on the mattress, and Hutch fell over beside him. Both men were breathing heavily as they lay together on their backs.

“How ya doin, Starsk?” Hutch inquired, placing his arm over his eye and chest heaving.

After a moment, the dark-haired man answered, “Just terrific. How about you?” Starsky turned his head to observe his wary lover.

“A bit worn-out, but good…really good.”

“Same here. I’ve forgotten how great you are at fucking,” Starsky complimented, closing his eyes.

Hutch removed his arm from his eyes to look at his partner. “And I’ve forgotten that you’re a really good lay.” He grinned.

Starsky opened one eye to look at Hutch. “Now that we’ve established that we’re both really good in the sack, I’d say we’re back to normal now, huh?”

“Yep.” Hutch turned on his side to look at the clock. “It’s almost midnight. Are we goin in tomorrow?” He asked, turning toward Starsky with his head propped on his hand.

The brunet took on the same posture, facing him. “Yeah.”

His partner sounded sure, but Hutch needed more confirmation. So he gazed into Starsky’s eyes and saw sincerity and a renewed strength in the cobalt depths. He smiled and caressed the side of the handsome olive-toned face.

“That’s good, babe, but if you have any doubts, we don’t have to go in tomorrow. We can always do it another day.”

“No Hutch. I’m ready, and as they say, ‘there’s no time like the present’.” Starsky gave him a crooked smile.

“Okay, then I think we’d better get some sleep,” Hutch stated, yawning.

Starsky let out a loud yawn. “I’m with ya. Shower in the morning? I’m too tired now.”

“Me too.”

Hutch turned on his side, and Starsky scooted close behind him, with his arm around his blond lover and Hutch grasping that arm. Soon, snoring filled the room as the lovers slept more soundly and were content for the first time in a while.

 

EPILOGUE

It’s been six months since the boys returned to work. Everything was back to normal, but it took a little time. As they figured, the assholes in their department gave Starsky strange looks, and when any of them dared to tease him, the brunet gave them one of his intense, deadly stares, and they backed off. He did his best to ignore them, like Hutch suggested, and his blond partner was always by his side in case things got too rough.

The same went for the street, but surprisingly, there weren’t too many who had heard about what happened to him. But there was this one guy who was standing on the corner as they were walking back to the Torino. The detectives needed to head to the station to finish up some reports. The guy smirked at Starsky, and when the detective walked past him, the man whispered, “Faggot.”

Hutch heard the remark and glanced at Starsky. The brunet looked at his partner with pleading eyes, and after getting a nod of approval, Starsky took care of the jerk with his fist abruptly running into the man’s nose. Afterward, he crouched down to the man on the ground and said in a menacing tone, “Now, you go and pass the word about what will happen if anyone messes with Detective Dave Starsky. Do you understand?”

Hutch stepped up to stand near his partner, looming his six-foot frame over the man.

“You can’t hit me like that. I didn’t do nothin,” the man protested, holding his broken, bloody nose.

Starsky straightened and looked at Hutch. “You saw him take a swing at me, didn’t ya partner?”

“Yep. And he would have connected too if it wasn’t for his pansy ass swing. “Should we take him in?” Hutch inquired with a small smile.

Starsky glared down at him, and the guy looked from one to the other with fear in his eyes. “Okay, okay, man. I understand,” he said, holding up his hands and fending them off.

“Good,” Starsky said in a dangerously calm voice. “Now, go away.”

The man quickly got to his feet, glanced at the two detectives, and then took off down the street.

Hutch watched him. “Ya think he’s gonna spread the word?” He asked, turning to his partner.

“I’m sure he will. I mean, I still have a rep as a bad-ass cop on the street.” Starsky stated proudly, grinning at his blond lover.

“That’s true, as well as an amazing ass in the bedroom.” Hutch returned the grin, accompanied by a wink and a discreet pat on Starsky’s denim-clad butt.

“How ‘bout I take said ass home for you to have your way with it?” the brunet asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Sounds like a fine plan, Stan,” Hutch agreed.

“Terrific Ollie. Now let’s put the reports to bed, then head home so you can put me to bed.”

“You got it, partner.”

The two detectives completed the reports in record time, making their captain very happy, and then went home to spend the evening doing what lovers do.

 

The End