Home Truths
by Lutra Cana (06/15/2000)
He knew the security people were watching him, but he didn't care. The only thing he cared about at that moment was on one of those planes up there, circling the airport. His life wrapped up in one lone person to whom he'd done the unthinkable.
Hutch paced with long, measured strides in front of the window over-looking the runways. Anyone watching would have been reminded of a tiger in a small cage, restlessly going back and forth. Waiting for someone to get close enough to take out his agitation on. But his agitation wasn't directed at any of the people in the waiting area with him. Nor was it directed at the one he waited for. It was aimed at himself. At what he'd done that had almost cost him everything.
Stopping his restless movements, Hutch leaned his forehead against the cold glass and thought. <Oh, Starsk. How am I ever going to make this up to you? What the hell was I thinking?>
It didn't seem possible that barely thirty hours before, he and his partner - his best friend in the world - had been just that, friends. Until he did the unthinkable and changed everything. He still didn't know how it happened, why it happened. Hutch only knew what had happened.
*****
Sitting beside Starsky, watching him watch the game on the tv, he felt something shift inside. He'd always loved this man, his partner. Trusted him, cared about and for him. Worried about his happiness, his well being. His heart.
But he never knew that he desired him.
He'd turned to say something to Starsky and felt overwhelmed by the beauty of the man. By the very physical power of him. Hutch felt his heart begin to beat faster, the blood rushing through him, and his breathe catch. <What...what am I thinking?> He had almost managed to push those feelings back into whatever dark place they'd popped out of when Starsky moved. Threw a warm arm around him and pulled him close.
It was too much. He breathed in the scent of his partner - part sweat, part the faint remains of sandalwood soap, and part male musk - and he was lost. Then Starsky turned his head and their eyes locked. Pale sky blue staring into dark as the ocean indigo.
Then...then he kissed him. Closed the meaningless distance between them and pressed his lips to the soft ones of his partner.
Astonishment flooded through him. Along with a heat that seemed to burn in his veins. In his brain. Until he no longer thought, reasoned. Until he could only feel and desire. And what he desired was the man he now held in his arms.
Moaning, he pulled Starsky closer and gave into that desire, that need for Starsky's body. The need to possess him, heart, body, and soul. Lips parted beneath his and his tongue took the invitation and explored the mouth that was so warm, so comforting that his head swam with want. Hands ran up strong backs, cupped necks to draw the mouths even closer. They parted for a brief moment, eyes searching. Starsky's looking scared even with the desire burning there. Somewhere in the back of Hutch's mind, a little voice was screaming at him to stop. To let his partner go and beg for forgiveness. But he couldn't. Hutch tangled his hands in Starsky's dark curls and roughly pulled until their mouths meshed again.
He took his partner's mouth and laid waste to it. Passion roared through him as a small part of his mind recorded every move. Observed the hands that undid shirt buttons and stroked the hard, furred chest. Watched as Starsky reached under his black t-shirt and caressed his smooth back. Felt the moment when Starsky's hand brushed against his groin and the erection that pulsed there.
They made their way into the bedroom, hands working to shed clothing from themselves and each other. One moment they were clothed, the next they were naked and lying on the bed. Hands holding, stroking. Raising a heat so strong, he thought he smelled smoke. Lips tasting whatever they could find, tongues licking and probing.
Hutch had never felt like this before in his life. This bone-deep need to make love to someone. To one particular person. A feeling beyond need, beyond desire. Even beyond lust. He felt alive with it. As if every nerve, every muscle, every cell existed for this and this alone.
Through passion brightened eyes he gazed at his partner...his lover...lying beneath him on the crisp white sheets. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin, contrasting against his own lightness as his hands took liberties. He wanted nothing more than to lower himself into the body spread so enticingly below him. To take everything he could that the other possessed and give it back to him a hundred fold.
Sinking down, he lay his body against the other's so that their groins pressed together. But that wasn't enough. He needed more. Pulling away from his partner's needy mouth, he held him in place as he worked his way down Starsky's body with his lips. Kissing, licking, biting down the body that thrashed and pleaded under him. Staking a claim on the very existence of this man he'd called friend for what seemed all of his life. Pushing the two of them past the point of no return. And took him in his mouth.
Again, that little voice in his mind expressed shock at what his actions. Gibbered at him to let his partner's cock go. Not to do this thing that was so unthinkable even an hour before. But the burning need to become one with Starsky hammered away at that voice until it was just a whisper. A whisper he ignored as successfully as he ignored Starsky's pleas to stop.
He felt the tension rising in Starsky's body. Knew that his partner...no...his lover...was about to climax. Something he was not ready for yet. Hutch needed to make sure that Starsky was his. To mark his territory. He released the pulsing organ and moved back up to take the whimpering mouth with his again. To rain little kisses down the body that lay panting in suspended release. To hold down the body that was trying to escape from him. To touch that body where he'd never touched him before.
Starsky stiffened under him as Hutch's finger thrust into him. Eyes widened in startlement, then closed in ecstasy. Or at least that's what Hutch's overheated mind chose to interpret the expression as. Starsky wrapped his arms around Hutch's back and pulled him down. The feel of Starsky's lips kissing him, licking his cheek gave him all the encouragement he needed. Forcing another finger inside that hot space, he felt his lover's body jerk in pain then flail in passion.
He pulled his hand away from between Starsky's legs and held himself above the almost incoherent man. Whispered to him, "What do you want? Tell me what you want, David, tell me." Using his partner's given name caused a thrill of intimacy to run through him. Hutch leaned in and kissed as hard as he could that mouth that made him ache. Until he felt the quiver of deep craving shake his lover's body. His voice harsher, deeper, he repeated, "Tell me."
With eyes heavy with carnal desire, Starsky stared up at him. Eyes almost black with need, he whispered, "You." That was all Hutch needed. Almost crying with the joy and hunger he felt, he fell on Starsky. Retraced his earlier path to take the urgent cock in his mouth. Sucked at the sac beneath it and mouthed the opening he planned to fill with something far larger than a finger.
Moving quickly he rolled away to grab the little jar of petroleum jelly from his bedside stand. Rolled back and retook what he desired. Ran greased fingers back up that passage to ease what was to come. Almost fainted when Starsky reached to hold his cock in his warm hand. Panting with urgency, he gently extracted it from his partner's hold and lubricated himself with the jelly remaining on his fingers. Moving the unresisting body of his partner onto his stomach, he positioned himself between the supple cheeks of Starsky's ass. Ignoring his whimpers, he took firm hold of Starsky and pushed the head of his cock past the resisting ring of muscle.
Starsky screamed. A sound that almost brought him out of the throes of wantonness that controlled him. But not quite. Starsky's panting seemed to beckon him onward, inward. Then Starsky moved back onto his shaft and he pushed further into that waiting sheath. The sensation of the muscles surrounding his cock squeezing against him was almost unbearable. And when Starsky moaned, when he jerked and whimpered out his name, he felt as if he was the most powerful creature on earth. Pausing for only a moment as Starsky thrashed under him he drew in a deep breath and completed the journey. Pushed until he felt the soft skin of his scrotum meet his lover's.
The two of them joined in the dance that carried them ever closer to the culmination that they craved. Hutch heard the little voice screaming at him. Telling him that what he was doing was wrong, evil. But the rolling waves of pleasure that ran through his body drowned out that little voice. Quieted it until all he could hear were the moans and grunts of demand for release issuing from the man he thrust into. The sounds of his own panting and groans from the effort to bring both of them to a final completion.
And then.... And then he was there. He heard Starsky scream out his name. Heard himself cry out his partner's as he felt his soul leave his body to crash against the ceiling and fall back into the almost unconscious form lying on top of an equally depleted being. It took every ounce of strength left him to pull his now flaccid organ from Starsky's body and gather his partner into his arms. To kiss him lovingly as they both allowed the darkness to claim them.
****
Dawn was flooding the bedroom with soft light when he awoke again. Stretching out, he wondered drowsily why he felt so content, so complete. Then memory seeped into his overwhelmed brain and he turned to look at his partner. To find only empty space where that dark head had laid.
Hutch sat up slowly, searching the room for Starsky. <Maybe he's in the bathroom.> Climbing from the bed, Hutch pulled on his orange robe and went to check. The bathroom door stood open on the empty room. Glancing around the great room, Hutch realized that his partner's clothing was gone. Along with his partner. But he made one unsettling discovery. Starsky's gun still hung on the hat rack beside the door where he'd placed it the night before.
<Where...?> A cold, empty fear started to grow in his chest as Hutch went to look out the window overlooking the street below. To discover that the Torino was no longer parked behind his car.
He stood staring at that empty spot trying to put the pieces together. His partner had left. Without saying goodbye and without taking his gun. Something that Hutch could not remember Starsky ever doing before. That Beretta was as much a part of Starsky as his crooked grin or his curly hair. For him to leave it behind had to mean something was terribly wrong.
And the only thing wrong that Hutch could think of was what had happened between them.
Hutch stumbled across the small dining area and groped for a chair. Almost fell before he managed to pull it out far enough that he could sit. He stared at the window, trying to work his mind around what he suddenly knew in his heart. Starsky had left him. Ran from him because of what had happened in this apartment the night before.
Sitting on that hard chair in the suddenly cold room, Hutch's mind played back scenes from the last eight hours or so. Key scenes where he heard Starsky's pleading "No." Saw the fear in his partner's eyes. Felt the body he held down try to free itself.
<My God. My God. I practically raped him. Oh my God.> Hutch dropped his head into his hands. <Oh Starsky. What did I do?>
The shrill ring of the phone jerked Hutch from his recriminations. Praying that it was his partner, Hutch leapt to grab the receiver.
"Hello? Starsk?" He almost shouted into the mouthpiece.
"Hutchinson." Not Starsky, but their captain. "Starsky called me earlier this morning."
<Oh God.> "About what?" The cold empty fear in Hutch's chest spread tendrils of terror outward.
"He said he had a family emergency and had to leave." Dobey sounded more tired than upset.
"Emergency?" Hutch knew he sounded moronic, but at that moment, he didn't care. He needed to know where his partner was. And what he was thinking. "Did he say where he was going?"
"Home. To New York. Said he might not be back for a while. I asked him if he had told you. All he said was "no" and that they were calling his plane. What's going on, Hutch?"
"I...I don't know. I'll call his mother and find out. I'll...I'll get back to you, Captain." Hutch hung up the phone, cutting Dobey off.
Staring at the phone, Hutch felt his world crumbling apart around him. Starsky was gone. Gone as far away as he could from the man who'd violated more than just his body. Hutch knew that he'd done something truly horrible. Something so ugly and horrid that he felt as if he couldn't live with the shame of it.
Hutch dialed Mrs. Starsky's phone number. A number he knew as well as he knew his own parents'. He listened to it ring, shaking with emotion. When the soft, Brooklyn accented voice answered, he almost dropped the phone. Pulling himself together, he tried to form a coherent sentence.
"Mrs. Starsky...is St...I mean, David. It's about David. I...I...." The words twisted in his mouth.
"Ken? Is that you? What's wrong? My God, has something happened to David?" The worry and fear in Starsky's mother's voice shook him out of his almost stupor.
"No. No, he's fine. It's just that he called our captain this morning and told him that he was flying back to New York. Has he talked to you yet?" He hastened to reassure her. There was no need to hurt yet another person because of his stupidity.
"No, we haven't talked. Why is he coming home?" Mrs. Starsky's voice fell from near panic to motherly concern.
"Uh...he told Captain Dobey that there was a family emergency. I...I just wanted to leave him a message."
"Of course, Ken. But there's no family emergency I'm aware of. Did something happen?"
"Yes. No. Nothing I can explain over the phone. Please. Would you tell him that I said I was sorry and to please come home? Please?" He knew he was begging the wrong person, but his partner's mother was as close as he might ever get. As close to Starsky as he would ever be allowed to be again.
Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Hutch felt as if everything in the world that was important to him had just been snatched away. Or pushed. And he was the one who'd done the pushing. With both hands.
Deep in his heart, Hutch knew that Starsky would never forgive him for what had happened. That he'd never forgive himself. The friendship they'd shared for so many years was a precious thing and he'd destroyed it. There would be no going back this time. No absolution of sins as in the past.
Dragging himself to the bathroom, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. At a man who'd gone from being a perfectly happy heterosexual to someone who could rape his own best friend. He hated himself more at that moment than he'd ever hated anyone in his life. More than he had ever hated any of the people who had tried to destroy him and his partner in the past. More than he hated the ones who had tried to take his partner away from him. More than Prudholm. More than Vic Bellamy. More than Simon Marcus. Even more than John Gunther.
More than any of them because he'd succeeded in doing the one thing that none of them had. He had hurt Starsky beyond healing. He had taken the one person in the world he knew loved him, the one he loved in return, and hurt him so badly that he might as well have killed him. Because Starsky would never be a part of his life again. Never.
Hutch sank to the cold bathroom floor, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him any longer. If he had the strength, he would have gone for his gun. But even that didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He fell in upon himself and moaned the loss of his life.
******
The apartment was silent. The phone didn't ring. There was no sound of footsteps tromping up the staircase. No off-key whistling in his kitchen as his friend ransacked his refrigerator. No soft breathing of shared company. No nothing. Just silence.
The day wore on. Hours dragged by as Hutch waited for something, anything to happen. He'd called Dobey back and made up something that seemed to satisfy him. Begged off of work for the day with a feeble excuse of a pounding headache. Or was that heartache?
Somewhere between the call to Starsky's mother and now, he'd pulled on some clothes. Forced down bitter coffee and some food. Nothing he remembered now. Simply that at sometime that day he'd eaten.
And now, here he sat. On the couch where it all started. And ended. Waiting. The phone ringing in the silence startled him so badly he could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Picking up the receiver, he didn't have the interest even to speak. Not until a voice he was sure he would never hear again spoke his name.
"Hutch?"
"Starsk? Oh God, Starsk." The beloved name stuck in his throat. "I'm so sorry, Starsk. I don't...I don't know what happened. I never meant to hurt you. Please.... Oh Starsk, please come back. I won't ever touch you again. I promise. Just please don't leave me alone."
His voice broke. Tears threatened to choke him. Then the cool reasonable voice spoke in his ear.
"Hutch, listen to me. I'm coming home. You and I have to talk, but everything's going to be okay. I promise." All Hutch could do was breath. And listen to that voice he loved. "Hutch? You still with me?"
"Yes." A single word. Filled with every ounce of pain and heartache in his entire body.
"Good. Because I've just one thing to tell you. Well, two I guess. Are you listening?"
"Yes."
"Okay. I'll be landing about two o'clock in the morning. Will you come and pick me up?"
"Yes."
"And, this one is important, Hutch. Are you still listening?"
"Yes."
"I love you, Hutch. I want to love you for the rest of my life. You got that?"
<Oh God, he still loves me. Thank you Lord. Oh, thank you.> "Yes. And me too. Forever, Starsk, forever."
"Good. I'll see you in just a few hours, buddy. Got to go now. Good bye, Hutch."
"Good bye, Starsk. I love you."
"I know."
Hutch sat and held the receiver against his face as if he could draw his partner through the lines stretching from New York to Los Angeles. Feeling as if...no....knowing that his life had just been handed back to him.
*****
A tinny voice announcing flight numbers broke through his black study of the last few hours. Looking up at the flight board, he saw that Starsky's plane was ready to disembark. Walking rapidly to the designated terminal, he felt expectation and apprehension war for dominance in his chest. At least it was a better feeling than the cold fear that he'd lived with for most of the previous day.
As the passengers filed out of the long corridor from the plane, he shifted from one foot to the other, ever watchful for a certain dark, curl-covered head. Starsky was not in the first wave off the plane, or the second. Hutch was beginning to have doubts that his partner had even gotten on the plane when he spotted him.
Starsky looked tired. As Hutch watched him approach, he was once again struck by the beauty of this person he loved. And how much he needed him. If not as a lover, if that wasn’t what Starsky wanted, then as a friend. His partner. It didn't matter as long as Starsky stayed with him. This jeans-clad, sleepy-eyed man with the almost two days growth of beard and a worn leather jacket was all that was important.
Hutch stood back from the doorway as Starsky walked through and looked around. He watched as Starsky's glance roved by him then came back to rest on his face. Watched as a slow, warm smile spread across those tired features. Watched as the only thing that had ever meant home walked up to him and opened his arms. Hutch knew his home was here, in Starsky's arms.
Just as it always had been.