Where We Belong

Hutch is going to find out why Starsky has shut him out completely.

Hutch twisted and turned on his partner’s couch, unable to fall asleep. It wasn’t the couch’s fault. As a matter of fact, the cushions had molded themselves to his size and shape long ago, and Hutch considered it now the warmest nest for his exhausted body.

Starsky was feeling just as restless, twisting and turning in his own bed. He only had to close his eyes to feel his partner’s discomfort. He could feel even the beginnings of the pain that had been his friend’s constant companion for three months.

Just a couple weeks ago, doctors had eased up on the pain meds Starsky was taking. At first, the pain had seemed excruciating, but little by little, it had lessened. Still, at night, especially at night, after a whole day of moving around and forcing his body to its physical limit, Starsky paid the price for his courage and determination to beat the odds.

With a soft sigh, Hutch turned on his back and stared at the ceiling.

Two weeks. Two weeks since it had happened.

Instinctively, the blond man looked down at his hands as they gripped the light blanket that covered his body. His hands looked dangerous to him now. Foreign. And very much in need.

For two months he had been Starsky’s nurse, and he hadn’t wavered an instant. He had been strong, supportive, a rock for his partner to lean on. Every single day he performed chores that he never thought he’d have to perform. And it had been his greatest honor, for he knew Starsky wouldn’t have allowed anyone else near him.

He had bathed, dressed and changed his partner. He had tended his surgical incisions and bullet wounds with the utmost reverence, wishing to cover them with kisses, but holding back. Always holding back.

Starsky had gloried in every tiny victory, and the most celebrated to date had been the day he was capable of taking his first shower and taking care of all his needs unaided.

Of course, pain meds were kicking then.

But his first shower out of them had been a nightmare. Far worse than the worst times.

Starsky had insisted on doing it all by himself, and Hutch had relented. The water had been running only a couple minutes when Hutch heard a soft noise. Applying his ear to the door, he heard Starsky swearing weakly. Next, he heard a moan so full of pain that he bit his lower lip, almost drawing blood.

Starsky didn’t ask for help then. But every following moan cut through Hutch’s heart like a knife.

Finally, when Hutch already had his hand on the doorknob, he heard a sobbing whimper.

“Hutch, please!”

Bracing himself, thinking of what it must have cost his partner to admit defeat, Hutch entered the bathroom.

Starsky was curled up in the bathtub, arms crossed around his middle, holding himself, tears streaming down his face, but refusing to acknowledge them.

Hutch got down on his knees beside the tub and settled his hand on the hunched back, rubbing loving caresses all over it. He felt Starsky’s tensed body unknotting a little, and the bent head sought his shoulder shyly.

Hutch brought up his other hand and hugged the beloved head to him, his fingers sinking in the curls sprinkled with water. He began an unconscious rocking motion that Starsky followed blindly.

No words were needed. They were far beyond them. They stayed like that, soaking up each other’s touch, until Hutch took the sponge from Starsky’s fingers and began raining water on the back of his partner’s neck. He repeatedly introduced the sponge in the water and then squeezed it over the hurting back and chest. Time and time again. Grabbing the bottle of shower gel, he poured a generous amount on the sponge and washed away the pain in the trembling frame.

“Can you stand up?” He whispered into Starsky’s ear.

Nodding and holding on to Hutch’s soaked sleeve, Starsky rose unsteadily to his feet. Heart swelling with pride and love, Hutch sponged the much thinner body, lingering on every spot where he felt Starsky needed it.

They had long stopped wondering at the calming effect of each other’s touch. They simply accepted it.

Hutch lost himself in the soothing movement of his hands, that were easing a pain as deep as the one racking the body of the man he loved.

Minutes passed and they lost track of time. Starsky closed his eyes, apparently forgetting about his surroundings and their cramped position. Hutch couldn’t care less about where they were, as long as they were together. He could feel Starsky’s pain ebbing away, and he sighed in contentment.

Kneeling down again, Hutch concentrated his caresses on the lower part of Starsky’s body. He forgot about what parts he was bathing. He was only thinking about easing any lingering pain. Occasionally, he filled the sponge with water and poured it on knotted muscles and aching flesh. His left hand roamed soothing caresses all over the places the right one couldn’t reach.

All of a sudden, a loud gasp brought him out of his reverie. The sound seemed more of pain than pleasure, so he halted all movement and looked up.

What he saw in the drawn face wasn’t anything he had expected to see.

Disbelief. Horror. Shame.

Worried sick, Hutch searched Starsky’s body, trying to find out what was wrong, what had horrified his friend so.

And right there, a few inches away from his face, Hutch met the erection rising from the plastered pubic hair.

All of Hutch pulsed in a delightful shiver of boundless joy. Right before him was the reward for his efforts. Now that no medication could prevent Starsky’s body from responding physically, it had blossomed before his eyes. He had turned Starsky’s pain into pleasure.

The most selfless feeling of accomplishment engulfed him. Love and tenderness as he had never known, swept him away. Not *that* kind of love. That was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. Just happiness and euphoria at the heartbreakingly vulnerable, and yet glorious affirmation of life.

Grinning joyfully, Hutch looked up at the devastated face. “Oh, Starsk,” he exclaimed ecstatically. “That’s wonderful!”

“Get me out of here,” Starsky snapped then, shaking himself out of his stupor. “I said get me outta here!”

Bewildered by the exaggerated reaction, Hutch sobered and swallowed hard, trying to reassure his distraught friend. “Hey, it’s okay, buddy. Don’t be ashamed. It’s just me. I don’t…”

“Hutch, please. Please, get me out of here. I wanna lie down now. Please!”

Starsky seemed about to burst out crying. He avoided meeting his gaze and squirmed helplessly, in a state of agitation so alarming that Hutch hurriedly complied with his request, unable to understand what had come over his friend. Ten minutes later, Starsky was in his pj’s and tucked up in his bed, and with a barrier thicker than the Iron Curtain firmly placed between them.

Hutch didn’t know what to do. Starsky had shut him out emotionally since that evening. He barely seemed to tolerate any physical contact now. Every time Hutch touched him, he ground his teeth, set his jaw and looked away, lost a million light-years away.

Everything was tense and awkward between them. They weren’t communicating anymore. It was so much like their bad times that he couldn’t stand it. He was getting the silent treatment and he didn’t know what he had done to deserve it. Not this time.

He had apologized to Starsky over and over if he had said or done something to offend him. And Starsky said he hadn’t done anything before returning to whatever inner world he retreated into.

It was two weeks later and he couldn’t take it anymore. Without Starsky, Hutch was falling apart.

Feeling like a dog begging for a few crumbs of affection, he found himself on his feet, walking towards Starsky’s bedroom.

Something was drawing him there inexorably. Not only his own pain and need of human touch, but Starsky’s equally unbearable pain and need. The closer he got to the room the stronger the emanations were. Starsky was hurting badly and Hutch had no pride left, not where Starsky was concerned.

He reached the partially open door and slowly pushed it open all the way.

Starsky was turned onto his right side, facing away from him, curled up in the farthest side of the bed. The bedcovers shuddered endlessly, revealing the searing pain of the body beneath. Starsky’s suffering came out of him in waves that slashed through Hutch’s soul.

Answering the silent call, Hutch padded barefoot to the bedside and carefully slipped into the bed. He moved over and spooned up behind the trembling frame, wrapping his arms around it.

Only then was he truly aware of how much Starsky was hurting. His body was feverish and yet some parts of it, like his hands and feet, were deadly cold.

And despite his physical agony, Starsky still found the strength to try and fight him off.

“Starsk, don’t,” he pleaded, profoundly wounded by the feeble attempts at shaking him off. “Why are you doing this to us? What have I done? You’re killing me and you know it.” He placed his left palm on the strong chest, reassuring himself with the wildly beating heart. “I need you.” He pressed his face against the curls on the back of Starsky’s neck, inhaling the oh-so-loved scent. “Forgive me if I’ve done something to upset you. Just tell me what it is and I’ll try to fix it.”

His only answer was a deafening silence and a renewed attempt to shake him off that made him want to scream in helplessness. Starsky was so stiff in his arms that it was scary. There was no communication between their bodies, only an unyielding resolve to fight him that hurt more than a burst of bullets. “Okay, babe. If that’s the way you want it.” Hutch felt his soul wither and die. “Just know that I love you more than I ever loved anyone.” He nuzzled his way in between the curls and pressed his lips to the back of the warm neck, kissing it tenderly in farewell. He hugged the beloved body to him one last time and began withdrawing.

A tiny groan froze him on the spot, and he strained to hear. Starsky was crying, but trying desperately to hide it from him.

“Oh, God,” Hutch exclaimed. “Why are you doing this?” He wrapped his arms around the shaking body again. “Whatever it is, we can sort it out together. Together, like we’ve always done. Don’t shut me out. Please Starsk, talk to me!” He implored, not bothering to hide his own crying any longer.

Then, impulsively, Starsky turned about in his arms and buried his face in his chest, clinging to his T-shirt like a drowning man to a life preserver.

‘My love!’ Hutch cried out in his mind, crushing the madly loved man to him.

After so many days of forced estrangement, this embrace felt like a welcome home. They roamed each other’s bodies, caressing and rubbing their faces all over one another. Even their legs got tied up in knots. They were frantic, sighing and moaning, becoming reacquainted with the bond they had depended on for years, that blossomed fiercely once again.

Hutch kissed the top of the curly hair non-stop, holding it to his chest with one hand, while the other stroked the long back all over, rubbing circles on it.

Starsky seemed to want to lose himself in Hutch’s chest. He pressed his face against it with such need that the blond throbbed with his own overwhelming need to protect this treasure who lay so trustingly in his arms.

They hugged so tight that no pain had ever felt so good. They breathed in each other’s scent, feeling inebriated with the joy and peace it gave them.

When the frenzied bout of touching eased up a little, Hutch resumed his familiar, leisurely caresses all over Starsky’s body, as he had been doing each and every one of the days they had shared that bed. How much he had missed sleeping here! Wherever that precious man was, he belonged. For the rest of his life.

Starsky let out a long sigh and seemed to relax for the first time in two weeks. He rested on the body that molded so perfectly to his own, providing him with all the soft and hard spots his battered flesh needed so badly.

“Are we okay now?” Hutch asked in a thick voice.

After a couple seconds of hesitation, Starsky nodded, and that hesitation told Hutch they were far from being okay. He closed his eyes, trying to calm down and think rationally. “Is it something I did?” he inquired softly, desperate to understand.

Starsky shook his head immediately, leaving Hutch more confused than ever. “I don’t understand it then, baby,” he murmured, easing up the pressure of his arms a little.

Starsky turned his head to the side, right on Hutch’s heart, as if trying to find a semblance of peace in the lulling sound.

“Is it something *you* did, then?” the question came out of the blue, without thinking.

Starsky nodded.

Hutch blinked stupidly, in complete bafflement. “Is it because of your erection?” It suddenly dawned on him.

He felt the burning heat of Starsky’s shame as he nodded reluctantly.

If it hadn’t brought them both so much pain, Hutch would have laughed. “Starsky, for Christ’s sake. I told you a million times. It was an involuntary reaction. When my caresses eased your pain, your body reacted instinctively. Just like when they hit our knee with those little hammers to check our reflexes and our leg moves, whether we want it or not. It wasn’t your fault!”

With a sob, Starsky buried his face in his chest again, desperate for some cuddling. Hutch enveloped him in his arms. “What am I gonna do with you?” he asked, in pretended exasperation. “Did you think I’d read something different in your reaction?”

Silence.

Hutch shook his head, slipping one hand below the T-shirt and sliding his fingertips over the warm back, lingering on the scars, as he had been dreaming of doing for so many days. He bent his head and kissed the broad forehead reassuringly, as Starsky rubbed his face against him like a sorry puppy. “You dummy. I know you don’t feel any physical attraction for me. I’m not that…”

The suddenly stiffening body interrupted Hutch in the middle of his sentence. Even the air around them seemed to still, as if time itself had stopped, waiting for him to make the connection.

And Hutch made it, right as a throbbing hardness pressed up against his hip, awakening him to the unmistakable erection that Starsky was subtly trying to move away from him.

The blinders came off instantly, and Hutch felt as if Truth had punched him on the face.

It… it couldn’t be! Starsky couldn’t be in love with him! The mere possibility was preposterous. His tough, macho partner, whose list of women he had bedded could paper the precinct, attracted to someone with a flat chest and a dick below the belt?

True, the same could be said about him, but the fact that it had happened to him didn’t mean it also had to happen to Starsky.

Hutch’s heart almost beat right out of his chest when he realized that his love was requited.

Starsky’s attempt to hide the evidence of his passion brought him back to reality with a start. “No!” he exclaimed, more forcefully than he intended. His right arm tightened around Starsky, keeping him firmly anchored, and his left hand moved up to his own chest. He grasped the sweaty hand grabbing his T-shirt and moved it down his body. “If you think what’s pressing up against my thigh is gonna shock me, wait till you feel this,” he whispered sensually, molding the trembling hand round the hardness in his own groin. Now that his hopeless dream had come true, his body was totally out of control.

Hutch felt Starsky’s body stiffening again, this time in surprise at the unexpected turn of events. He felt the confusion and the denial that Hutch’s erection could be for him.

“Yes, it is for you, Starsky. It’s been only for you for so long…” Hutch couldn’t hold back the poignant longing in his voice.

“Hutch…” the hoarse voice spoke for the first time, as Starsky struggled to raise on his elbows, reluctantly moving his hand away from the impressive package filling it up. He looked down at his partner, desperate to see for himself. And despite the dim street light filtering through the window, Starsky saw the truth in the eyes that worshipped him. “Oh, baby,” the words were out of his lips before he could even think about them. He hurled himself at Hutch and they hugged for all they were worth.

They clung to each other, unable to believe it was really happening. They’d given up all hope from the moment they realized the love they felt for the other had changed, and it turned out it had been theirs all along. All along!

They started raining kisses all over each other, lost in the despairing need to love one another now, to make up for lost time now. They kissed all over, bumping their noses, trying to reach every place at the same time.

When the fit of kissing calmed down somewhat, they found themselves staring deep into each other’s eyes. One second was all it took before they slowly crossed the short distance separating them. They closed their eyes one heartbeat before the first touch shook them down to the marrow of their bones.

They whimpered in need. Just a brush of their lips and their bodies burst in an explosion of heat and sensation so unfathomable that it changed them forever. Everything they had been up to that moment burned to ashes, and their next kiss put those ashes back together in perfect harmony.

Hutch’s arms came up and embraced the still powerful back of the man covering him with his body. He’d never known such perfection, such happiness. He felt Starsky’s shy hands framing his face as he tilted his head and his lips opened again, taking his own in a reaffirming kiss that obliterated everything in its wake.

Hutch returned the kiss avidly, conveying all the love and need that had consumed him for so long that he couldn’t remember what it was like not to want it.

Time ceased to exist as they loved each other with such tenderness and devotion they ached from the beauty of it.

A moan of pain intruded into their perfect world, sobering them instantly. Starsky collapsed on Hutch, his chest muscles twitching and spasming. The effort of supporting his weight on his arms had been too much.

Immediately knowing what was wrong, Hutch turned Starsky onto his side and his hands began a gentle and infinitely loving massage, soothing the pain gradually.

“I’m sorry, Hutch. Dammit, I’m so sorry!” Starsky apologized time and again, in an endless string of painful gasps, blaming himself for interrupting their sublime communion of souls.

“Don’t, love. Don’t,” Hutch reassured sweetly. “It’s okay. Your body needs some more time, that’s all.” He buried his fingertips in the hard pectorals, instinctively knowing how to touch, how to knead and rub to unknot the cramped muscles. Before he knew, Starsky was sighing in blissful relief.

“Thank you,” Starsky breathed, from the bottom of his heart.

“My pleasure, always,” Hutch replied, unable to stop his roaming caresses.

Starsky stared at the ceiling, a wistful expression on his face. “I wish…” he trailed off.

Hutch knew exactly what his partner meant to say, and settling comfortably beside his love, he began nuzzling him playfully. “Just think about all the beautiful and sexy things that await us. I’m sure they’ll be the most effective incentive,” he wriggled his eyebrows.

Starsky laughed. “Oh, yeah; they will be, they will be.” He became serious and met Hutch’s gaze. “Will you wait for me, until…?”

Hutch reached out and cradled the pale face in his hand, sweeping Starsky away with the intensity he oozed in waves. “I’ve been waiting for you all my life, and I’ll wait for as long as it takes.”

The blue eyes filled with tears and a heartbeat later, they fell on the warm palm.

“Hutch…” Starsky was out of words. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed his partner to know…

Hutch nodded. “I know. But you’re halfway there already. You’re getting stronger every day. And you’re already responding physically,” he inched closer and bestowed a comforting kiss on the pouted lips. A kiss full of promise. “Soon, my love. Soon.” He wiped away the tears with his thumb. Then, he kissed the reddened eyes, lingering on them until he healed their soreness.

With a moan, Starsky sought refuge in the open arms, that welcomed him and closed around him, keeping him safe and protected. “Soon,” he found himself repeating like a mantra, cuddling up the cozy body and holding it until it hurt again. But he smiled now, because this pain he could live with.

This was the only pain he would never give up.

THE END.