Veal You be Mine

85

Before Dobey and Huggy arrive and they all get soaked, Starsky and Hutch have a chance to confess their love.

 

Some missing moments from the tag of Sweet Revenge.

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With arms tucked behind his head and a smile on his lips, Starsky lay in his hospital bed and gazed up at the ceiling. He hummed a tune to pass the time, his mood significantly improved since his doctor’s exam that afternoon.

The doctor used words like “remarkable progress” and “lengthy but steady path to a full recovery.”  The best words of all were “I will recommend you for discharge in another week.”

“I can go home?” Starsky asked the doctor enthusiastically.

“Yes, you can go home. Your partner assures me that you will have round-the-clock help and support. You’re a lucky man.”

Starsky smiled to himself. He had to agree with the doctor that he was a lucky man. Not only was he alive, but he was also surrounded by friends and family who loved him. His mother was prepared to fly in from New York whenever he needed her, many friends from the police force sent cards and flowers, and even his brother Nick paid a visit. Of course, Dobey and his family were regular visitors, and Huggy often came by just to cheer him up.

Above all, there was Hutch, his best friend, and partner. The man who would sacrifice his life for his, as Starsky would do for him.

Many people couldn’t understand his relationship with Hutch. He loved him like a brother, at least that was how he described it to anybody who wanted to understand. Yet he couldn’t put into words what was truly in his heart. He felt a mixture of life-affirming love and unwavering devotion whenever he thought of Hutch. They shared an unbreakable connection and Starsky had no idea what it was called. It simply existed.

So he hummed, overjoyed at this second chance at life. Starsky’s musings were cut short by the opening of the door and the sight of the very man who warmed his heart.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Starsky said as he sat up a little in his bed. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Shh,” Hutch said with a grin, placing a silver serving dish with a dome-shaped top on Starsky’s torso and crouching down to greet him. “What’s the matter? It’s only eight forty-five.”

Hutch’s eyes radiated with delight, and his smile was as big as the Minnesota sky.

“By whose clock?” Starsky asked, his gaze following Hutch’s every move. He chuckled, admitting to Hutch he was feeling no pain.

“Move over,” Hutch ordered gleefully, sliding into bed next to Starsky. Starsky gladly complied and cleared a space for his long-legged companion.

“How long do you think it takes to stuff veal, huh?” Hutch asked as he removed the top of the dish, perching it on his head.

By some people’s standards, they appeared absurd. Two male police officers, one with wild and curly hair, wearing dark blue pajamas with white trim around the edges and pockets. The other with silky blond hair, dressed in jeans, a green letterman jacket, a bandage around his left wrist, and a dome-shaped lid resting on his head. Neither one cared how they looked as they lay side by side on a hospital bed designed for one.  Both grinning from ear to ear, giddy like school girls at a slumber party, familiar friendship at the core, but unable to settle down due to unending excitement.

“Look at that, it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Hutch asked, admiring the tureen balanced on Starsky’s stomach. Hutch removed the foil lining of the dish, and the aroma of a delectable feast filled the air, succulent stuffed veal at Starsky’s fingertips.

“This is beautiful,” Starsky remarked with sincerity. “It warms my heart.”

Starsky picked up a piece of veal and took a bite, the tender meat activating his taste buds like divine ambrosia.

Hutch’s head pressed against the pillow, his head turned to gauge Starsky’s reaction, and he looked pleased. “I couldn’t have my buddy eating hospital food for another week, I’ll tell you that.”

Starsky took another bite, glancing at his partner. Hutch’s face looked stunning, and Starsky didn’t mind admitting it. His blue eyes sparkled, and his gleaming smile was bright enough to light up even the most dismal of hospital rooms.

Starsky understood that these kinds of moments – just brief flashes of happiness – were the building blocks of a life worth living. This kind of thrill did not require jumping out of an airplane, driving a race car, scaling a mountain, or even chasing a criminal. Simple and precious time with Hutch – there was nothing better.

Just then, the door opened and the nurse appeared. Starsky jumped up, helping Hutch duck under the covers while Starsky charmed the nurse and told her he was fine.

“She’s gone,”  Starsky said through laughter, as Hutch peeked out from under the blanket with a snort.

Before Starsky had a chance to take another bite of veal, the nurse returned, asking something about orange juice.

“Nothing, thank you,” Starsky replied as graciously as possible while trying to hide a six-foot-one blond who was giggling under the covers next to him. As the nurse left, Starsky clutched his nose to stifle his laughter, while Hutch chortled underneath his dome-shaped hat.

“She’s gone,” Starsky reassured Hutch as the laughter resurfaced, lasting several moments, their uncontrollable exuberance outweighing any concern for medical personnel.

“Did you bring anything to drink?” Starsky choked out as he readjusted himself in bed, his laughter controlled to a mere snicker.

With the lid poised on his head, Hutch reached into his pocket and pulled out a wine glass, handing it to Starsky.

“There’s nothing in there,” Starsky said, turning the glass around with disappointment.

“Oh,” said Hutch, “just a second, I forgot.” He dug back into his jacket and drew out a small, white envelope, placing it inside the wine glass.

“Here you go, now it’s full,” Hutch said, sobering, removing the lid from his head and placing it on his chest. “I, uh, I got you a card for the occasion. It sort of goes with the veal.”

“Oh yeah?” Starsky asked with excitement. “What is it, a get-well card?”

“Not exactly,” Hutch said, hugging the shiny lid to his chest. “Guess you’ll have to open it to find out.”

“Ok, I will,” Starsky replied with a smirk. He slid his thumb beneath the sealed envelope and tore it open, tugging at a flat white card inside, pulling it out just far enough to reveal a short note scribbled in Hutch’s handwriting.

Starsky read the four little words on the card.

“Veal you be mine?”

Starsky threw his head back with a smile as warmth swept across his body. It was the boldest, bravest question that Hutch could ever ask. Lighthearted, direct, romantic, and cautious all wrapped up in a corny one-liner. That was his Hutch.

Hutch remained silent, averting Starsky’s gaze as he caressed the metallic knob.

“Hutch, look at me,” Starsky said smiling. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

Hutch slid his eyes to look at Starsky. “That depends, what do you think it means?”

Starsky’s grin expanded. “I think it’s the cheesiest, sweetest, most exhilarating thing anybody has ever asked me.”

Hutch’s face stayed tight, his brow wrinkled as he continued stroking the rounded sides of the dome. “So what’s your answer?”

Starsky responded with a loving headshake. He reached over and stroked Hutch’s bandage-covered wrist, then moved his fingers to his fine, soft hair. He ran his touch along his face, to his mustache, covering Hutch’s mouth with his fingertips.

“I’m already yours,” Starsky said as he continued stroking his lips. “I always have been, dummy.”

Hutch’s expression calmed, and he threaded his fingers through the mass of curls atop Starsky’s head, his eyes intense and full of love. “In that case, turn the card over,” Hutch whispered.

Starsky stared inquisitively into Hutch’s eyes, then pulled the card out of the envelope and flipped it over.

“Assuming you haven’t punched me in the face by now, would you mind if I kiss you?” 

Starsky beamed, and let out a breath. He turned to Hutch and nodded.

Hutch’s face was glowing, as he rolled over to face Starsky, cupping his chin with his bandaged hand, and pressing his lips against Starsky’s mouth.

Starsky closed his eyes, a sense of full surrender sweeping over him as if his own heart had been transplanted next to Hutch’s, and they were pounding together in unison.

As their mouths separated, Hutch held his forehead to Starsky’s and said, “I love you. I was afraid you would think this was the dumbest attempt at seduction you ever saw.”

“Are you kidding?” Starsky said smiling. “That note blew me away. So did the kiss, for that matter.”

“Me too,” Hutch said, his voice hushed. “Are you sure this isn’t the painkillers talking?”

“I know what’s in my heart and nothing could ever obscure that. You give me joy, Hutch, not to mention love, friendship, security, and a million other things. Like the sexiest long legs and blue eyes that I’ve ever seen in my life. Along with a few other endowed traits that I won’t mention until I’m out of this hospital bed and home with you where we belong.”

Hutch’s eyes crinkled as a smile spread across his face. “I want to stay here and kiss you all night, but I know for a fact that Dobey and Huggy will be up here soon.” He lifted his hand and ran his fingers along Starsky’s mouth.

Starsky kissed the finger that was pressed to his lips. “Don’t worry, we have plenty of time because I’m never letting you go.  And in case you were wondering, I’m keeping this love note forever.” Starsky stuffed the envelope into the white-trimmed pocket of his pajamas and patted it securely in place.

“Next time, I’ll try to be a little less sappy,” Hutch said through a nervous giggle as his cheeks flushed.

“Hey, I loved it and don’t you ever doubt it,” Starsky said, then added with a straight face, “I veal always love you too.”

Hutch erupted in laughter, his shoulders heaving and his mouth open wide.  Starsky joined in, tears running down his face from the infectious happiness, understanding, and love.

“Shh,” Starsky said again, as he reached out and covered Hutch’s mouth with his palm, trying to suppress Hutch’s laughter along with his own. He gently tapped his hand against Hutch’s wet lips, the feel of Hutch’s tongue on his fingers running a shiver through his body.

“Dobey and Huggy will be here any second. We better shape up,” Starsky said, trying to be serious.

Hutch looked into his eyes. “I can’t help it. I feel like I’m on cloud nine.”

Starsky lightly stroked Hutch’s cheek. “I thought I couldn’t have been happier, just being alive with you as my best friend.  Now I finally have a name for what we have.”

“What’s that?” Hutch asked tenderly.

“Soulmates,” Starsky replied. He tilted his head and extended his lips, one finger under Hutch’s chin as their mouths connected. Starsky felt the world spin again, and no other pleasure could compare.

“I’ll remember this night for the rest of my life,” Starsky said as he drew back, his eyes filled with love for Hutch.

His next words were interrupted as the door burst open and Dobey entered, a tray of antipasto in his arms.

Starsky swiftly locked eyes with Hutch one more time, conveying his feelings without words, a quiet assurance that this was not the end, but the beginning of the rest of their lives.