Title: Me And Thee
Author: Sparkle731

Type: Slash
Summary: During Starsky's recovery from Gunther's hit, Hutch discovers that his feelings for Starsky have changed.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Starsky and Hutch or make any profit from writing about them. Just writing about them for fun.
Sequel: Me and Thee Forever

Categories: Hutch Angst, First Time Story, Starsky H/C
Rating: NC-17


Me And Thee
by Sparkle731

 

 

 

CHAPTER 1

 

I sat beside the bed and watched Starsky as he slept, watching carefully for any sign of pain or distress. He had just been released from the hospital that morning. After three months, he was finally back in his own apartment and in his own bed. It had been a long and trying three months as he defied the odds and survived the ruthless attack by Gunther's hit men. I could still remember that day in the underground parking garage at headquarters as if it were yesterday. The sound of the gunshots that echoed through the confined space and the horror and fear I felt when I found Starsky lying on the ground on the other side of the car in a rapidly spreading pool of his own blood.

 

He had been hit in the chest and stomach four times by the gunshots. The internal injuries had been massive and life threatening. The doctors had told me then that he had literally no chance of surviving. He was just hurt too bad inside. His right lung was practically shredded, his liver was damaged, and his guts were a mess. They said it was a miracle he had lived long enough to make it to the hospital. None of them could believe it when he lived through the surgery to remove the bullets and make emergency repairs to the damage that had been done. And they still kept insisting that he was going to die because they had never seen anyone live with the kind of injuries he had.

 

I went half-crazy at the thought of losing him. We had been through so much in the eight years we had been partners. He was my best friend and we were closer than brothers were. He was the other half of my soul; together we made each other complete. Without him, I knew that I would never be able to go on alone. The only way I could deal with the idea of losing him was by concentrating all of my energy and grief on finding the bastard that had done this to him and make sure he paid for it. And I did. I hunted Gunther down and I brought him in. It was a close call because all I wanted to do was to put a bullet in that scumbag's head for hurting the one person who meant more to me than anything else in the world.

 

I remember getting the call from Captain Dobey telling me to get back to the hospital immediately that Starsky was dying. Half insane with my own grief and pain, I got back there only to find out that his heart had stopped. My own heart almost stopped beating as I watched the doctors frantically trying to bring him back. It took awhile, almost too long, but they finally got his heart started up again. And they continued to tell me that they didn't think he was going to make it. His mother had refused to let them make him a no code, so they were legally required to do everything in their power to keep him alive and to bring him back if his heart stopped again. She loved him as much as I did and she refused to let him go anymore than I did.

 

For over two weeks, he lay there in a coma, lingering on the edge of death. I spent most of my time at his side. The captain knew it was pointless to expect me to do anything else. As long as Starsky was hurt, I would refuse to leave his side. He'd have done the same thing if it had been me lying in that bed instead of him. I had plenty of time to think and to remember as I sat there, just watching him and waiting for him to open his eyes. In spite of what the doctors kept saying about his chances, I refused to give up. I refused to accept the fact that I was going to lose him.

 

We had met in the police academy and he had instantly chosen me to be his friend. Talk about a mismatched pair. A lonely rich kid from Minnesota with a college education and a tough, street-smart kid from New York with a heart of gold. I was never sure just why he chose me as his friend but I have thanked god ever since that he did. We each spent our eighteen months in uniform as probationary officers, working with different training officers but still spending our off duty time together as much as possible. Starsky made detective two years after graduating from the academy and I made the same rank two months later. When I did, we found ourselves assigned to the same precinct and badgered the powers that be into making us partners.

 

By then we were already the best of friends. I was married when we first met and my wife, Vanessa, never could stand Starsky. She was a spoiled bitch who thought he was a bad influence on me and beneath her lofty social standards. Needless to say, our marriage didn't last very long even though I tried to make it work. When she finally left me, Starsky was there to help pick up the pieces and put my shattered life back into order.

Before long, Starsky and I started getting the reputation of being the best and the baddest team of detectives on the streets. We were so close, both on duty and off; that we could almost read each other's minds and anticipate each other's moves. I knew I never had to worry about Starsky being there to cover my back in a dangerous situation. And, as the years passed, that unique bond between us just got stronger and more impenetrable. Nobody could even come close to our arrest record or our success in solving the toughest cases, even the ones that seemed to be unsolvable.

 

And through it all, we were always there for each other. We took care of each other, in sickness and in health. We nursed each other through major illnesses and injuries, through broken love affairs, and through broken hearts. We were inseparable. Our friendship and our bond made it difficult for some of the women we both got involved with to accept. We were a package deal and any woman who got involved with either one of us soon discovered that if it came down to choosing between them and our friendship, the friendship would win out every time. In all those years, there were only two women who even came close to understanding that bond and accepting it. For me it was Gillian and for Starsky it was Terri. And both of them were killed, leaving us with nothing but each other to lean on.

 

There was another unique quality to our relationship that made a lot of people uncomfortable and that was the way we interacted with each other. Besides being able to almost read each other's minds and to communicate without even speaking, we were openly affectionate with each other. Starsky had always been that way. It took me a little while to get used to that but once I did; I started expressing my own feelings for him the same way. It wasn't unusual for us to hug each other, to throw our arm around each other's shoulders or waist, to lean our foreheads together when we were talking, or just to hold each other close. A lot of people read that the wrong way and tried to make something out of it but we just ignored them and went on about our business. Hell, it wasn't even unusual for us to sleep together in the same bed, especially if one of us was hurt physically or emotionally. Neither one of us was afraid to give the other one the comfort they needed so we could draw strength from each other as needed. We bonded so deeply that we could feel each other's pain.

 

That's why I knew that if Starsky died from Gunther's attack. I would too. I wouldn't have any reason to go on living without him beside me. I would just give up and eat my own gun so I wouldn't have to go on alone. I had already decided that as I sat there in the hospital and waited for him either to live or to die. Because without him, my heart and my soul was already dead.

 

The doctors could not believe when he kept hanging on despite all the odds, despite the numerous surgeries to continue to repair the major damage to his insides, in spite of their ominous predictions about his chances for survival. He kept hanging on. And almost two weeks after the shooting, he finally opened his eyes for the first time.

He was pretty heavily doped up and didn't do more than open his eyes for a few minutes and then close them again but I knew then that he was going to make it. He was going to live. I couldn't tell you how I knew. I just knew. Even then the doctors still refused to hold out much hope, they kept saying that his body had been through too much trauma that it was just a matter of time before his heart gave out or some other major organ shut down. But they didn't know Starsky like I did. They didn't know what a stubborn S.O.B. he could be.

 

And as the days passed, he proved them wrong. He continued to hang on and slowly became more alert and aware of his surroundings. He had cheated death and now he would have to pay the price. And the price was pain, almost intolerable pain that swept through his body, reducing him to tears and whimpers whenever anyone touched him. It hurt so much to see him in so much pain, knowing there was nothing I could do to help him except be there and hold his hand when it got so bad, even with the high amount of drugs he was being given, that unconsciousness was the only relief he could find even for a little while. One thing I had learned early on about Starsky was that when he was in minor pain, like a bad cold or a toothache, he could whine and want to be pampered like a child. But when he was in so much pain that most people would have been screaming from the intensity of it, he would hold it all inside and refuse to acknowledge to anyone how much he was suffering.

 

 But I always knew. He didn't always tell me how much it hurt in so many words, but I could see it in his eyes or feel it in the bone crushing hold he had on my hand. And I was right there with him, feeling his pain as if it were my own. We'd had a lot of close calls over the years but nothing like this. This pain was slowly destroying his sanity and his spirit. I did everything I could to make it easier for him and I know I drove the nurses crazy with my demands. They finally gave up arguing with me, sensing that my presence had a calming effect on my volatile partner. I think they realized that my being with him was helping him more than their medicine or their expertise ever could. But I could still feel him withdrawing deep inside of himself, into a place where the pain couldn't reach him as easily.

 

For three months, I watched as he struggled to regain enough strength and stamina that he could be released from the hospital, so he could go home. And it was an uphill battle all the way. He had several additional surgeries that sent him back into the depths of hell in terms of his recovery. He was forced to endure grueling physical therapy sessions that would have broken a lesser man. And he had to learn to cope with the constant pain that never seemed to let up long enough for him to really relax. And I was there with him every step of the way, literally every minute and every hour of the day. I had taken an indefinite leave of absence from the department to be with him through it all. Luckily, I had a trust fund that my grandmother had left me that I had never touched that I could fall back on if I had to in order to survive.

 

Sometimes it seemed as if he would never be able to leave the hospital, that he would never be strong enough or well enough physically to go home. But eventually, that day had come and here we were in his apartment. He was still heavily medicated, still as weak as a kitten unable to do anything for himself, and still in constant pain but he was home and I was going to take care of him for as long as it took until I had him back on his feet. As I said, I had a lot of time to think while he was in the hospital and I had come to realize a lot of things during that time. I had always loved Starsky, as a friend and as a brother but now; I realized that he was my soul mate, the other half of me, the only thing that made me feel truly complete. God help me, I had fallen in love with my male partner, and I had no idea how to deal with that.

 

CHAPTER 2

 

A soft whimper of pain from Starsky caught my attention and I instantly moved to his side, gently reaching out to brush a curl back from his feverish brow. The doctors had done all they could do for him at the hospital but he was still under some pretty strict restrictions now that he was at home. He wasn't allowed to climb steps (except the ones that led to his apartment), he couldn't bend, stretch, or stoop, he wasn't allowed to get out of bed except to go to the bathroom or to spend a few hours a day on the sofa in the living room. He was still in constant pain and so weak he couldn't do anything for himself. But he was home. That was something the doctors had thought he would never be able to do.

"Hey, Buddy." I said gently "Do you need something?"

 

"Need to take a leak...." Starsky whispered, looking at me with dark eyes that were clouded with pain. Even with the pills, he was still in pain almost constantly. It was hard to watch him suffering so much. But I had made a promise to myself and to god that if he lived, I would devote my life to helping him get back on his feet. His insurance would have paid a full time nurse to come in and care for him at home but I had refused. I didn't trust anyone taking care of him except me. I had done it before. Never to this extent but it was still my choice.

 

"Okay...hang on and I'll get ya up. Just let me do all the work." As gently as I could I slipped one arm behind his shoulders and one arm beneath his knees and slowly helped him up into a sitting position on the side of the bed. His face was covered with sweat when we finished and he was panting for breath. I hated causing him more pain but there was no choice. No matter how gentle I was with him, it still hurt him. I tried to avoid looking at the numerous black stitches that covered his upper torso where he'd been stitched back together after his various surgeries to repair his mangled insides.

 

After he'd caught his breath, I slowly helped him to his feet, letting him lean heavily against me, supporting most of his weight, as I slowly walked him into the bathroom. When we reached the commode, I reached down with one hand and helped him free himself from his shorts so he could take a leak. I knew better than anyone did how hard it was for my proud, independent partner to need help doing something as basic as going to the bathroom by himself. He would have fought anyone else who tried to help him, everyone but me. I saw the pain on his face as he strained to go. His insides were still so messed up that it even hurt him to take a piss. I tried to ignore the hiss of pain as he did his business. When he was done, I helped him rearrange himself and then led him over to the sink so he could wash his hands. Finally, I led him back to his bed and gently got him settled back in as comfortably as I could.

 

It was almost impossible for him to find a comfortable position to lie in. He preferred sleeping on his right side but even that was painful. The best compromise I could come up with was to put pillows behind his back and between his legs so that he was laying half way on his side and half way on his back. Another pillow rested beneath his left arm, which was still almost immobile from damage to the muscles and tendons from the shooting. That made things even more difficult for Starsky since he was left handed. Although he'd had some basic range of motion exercises in the hospital to keep his muscles from tightening up and contracting, it would be a few weeks yet before the real physical therapy could start to help him regain movement and flexibility in his ravaged body and muscles. In the meantime, I would continue to give him the range of motions exercises to help maintain muscle tone.

 

"I'll be right back." I told him tenderly "It's time for your medicine." I covered him with a light blanket and went back into the bathroom to get the various pills he still needed to take along with a glass of water. He was on blood thinners to prevent blood clots from the various surgeries and heavy doses of pain medication that made him groggy and made him sleep almost all the time. He also took pills to regulate his blood pressure, antibiotics to combat infections, pills to help with his digestion, pills to help with his bowels, and muscle relaxants to help with the painful spasms in his back, chest, and legs. He hated taking the pills and I hated giving them to him but for now, there were no other options.

 

I slipped my arm behind his shoulders and help him to sit up enough to take the pills and wash them down with the water. He still got dehydrated easily and so I had to force as many fluids on him as I could get him to drink. I knew the meds would knock him out for the rest of the night. I gently laid him back down and then leaned down to brush a gentle kiss across his forehead. He didn't even seem to notice as his eyes drifted shut. I loved this man with all my heart and soul and I hoped that someday I would be able to show him just how much I cared. If I could have taken his place then I would have in a heartbeat. I would gladly have suffered so he wouldn't have to. He was a good man. He didn't deserve any of this.

 

Once I was certain that he was sleeping peacefully, I slowly straightened up and went into the kitchen to make myself something to eat. Starsky was still on a semi-solid diet consisting of things like Jell-O, puddings, mashed up vegetables, and blended fruit. All foods that he hated with a passion. I usually tried to break up the boredom of his meals which special treats like milk shakes and ice cream both of which he loved. He had lost almost twenty-five pounds since the shooting and he looked so thin and frail. I knew he needed to put some of that weight back on in order to regain his strength but it wasn't easy. His digestive track was still messed up and he got nauseated so easily. He had refused to eat for anyone else besides me when he was in the hospital. Not that I could blame him. Hospital food is so bland and tasteless. Now that he was home, I planned to try and find foods he could eat that would at least taste good to him, not that he had much of an appetite yet.

 

After a quick meal of soup and a salad for myself. I went back to his bedroom. Stripping down to my shorts, I slipped into bed beside him and carefully removed the pillows from behind his back, letting him lie back against me for support. I knew that he seemed to rest better that way. The nurses had been pretty understanding the first few times they had found me lying like that with him in the hospital. They had already seen the bond between us and knew that if I was there, Starsky was much more cooperative with them. All I cared about was the fact that my being there with him comforted him and helped to ease his terrible pain. And it comforted me too to be able to hold him in my arms and feel the warmth of his skin against mine, to feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, to know that he was still alive in spite of all the odds. He was my miracle. My living, breathing miracle and I intended to do everything in my power to keep him that way.

 

We had always been protective of one another but I had become even more so since I realized that I had fallen in love with him. I knew he loved me but I wondered how he would react when he found out that I loved him "that way". Neither one of us was prejudiced when it came to alternate lifestyles even though up until the shooting, we were both straight heterosexual males and had never even thought about taking our relationship to another level in spite of our closeness. But once I realized how I really felt about Starsky, I realized that I wanted to take things to that level if I ever got the chance. I wanted to show him how much I loved him, to give him the ultimate pleasure that can be shared between two people. I just hoped that he would feel the same and not reject me or turn away from me because of the way I felt now.

 

I had done some 'experimenting' in college. Nothing much, just some mutual masturbation with a close friend but I still remembered how good it had felt even if my partner was another man. But I had never had any interest in a sexual relationship with another man beyond that until now. Now, all I wanted to do was take care of Starsky and love him as much as he would let me. I knew that he had done some 'experimenting' of his own when he was in Viet Nam. We had never gone into a lot of detail about it but he'd said enough that I didn't think anything suggestions I made would come as a shock to him. But above all, I was not willing to jeopardize the friendship and closeness we already shared. So even if it turned out that he didn't want to be with me that way, I would learn to live with that as long as we could still be friends.

 

I gently eased my arm around his waist, avoiding putting any pressure on the incisions that were there and leaned my cheek against the top of his curls. Slowly, I let sleep take me, still attuned to any needs Starsky might have during the night. It had been a long day and tomorrow promised to be more of the same.

 

CHAPTER 3

 

Starsky clutched at my shoulders desperately as I held him close, cradling his head against my chest. He'd had another nightmare that had left him shaking and short of breath. "Easy, partner...." I said in gentle soothing voice "Take it easy....I'm right here. I got ya." I gently rubbed his back trying to calm him down. Nightmares had become a grim reality of his life since the shooting. They had started in the hospital and had continued on a regular basis, almost every night since he'd come home.

 

"It hurts, Hutch..." he whimpered "Oh, god...it hurts so much..."

 

"I know it does, babe." I told him, trying to keep my voice steady and calm in spite of the lump in my throat. "I know....just try to relax...just breathe slow and easy...." I could feel the violent muscle spasms in his back as I tried to get him to relax and hear his ragged gasps for air as he tried to draw enough oxygen into his tortured lungs. "Shhhh....." I soothed him, as I tried to give him some of my strength to get through this latest assault on his battered body.

 

"Hutch....make it stop....please make it stop..." he pleaded in an agonized voice that tore at my heart. I could feel the wetness of his tears against my skin and I felt so helpless knowing there wasn't anything I could do but hold him. It was too soon to give him any more of his medication.

 

"Hang in there, buddy.....just hang in there...." Slowly I felt his body starting to relax, the spasms starting to ease enough that he could finally catch his breath. I continued to hold him, soothing him with my voice, giving the only comfort I could give him at the moment. Starsky moaned softly and leaned against me, still breathing heavily, but a little easier now. I stroked his silky curls and softly started humming a song I knew he liked.

 

After several long minutes, I heard his breathing return to normal as he drifted back to sleep. I lay there in the darkness, continuing to hold him in my arms, reluctant to let him go. Finally, I fell into a restless sleep, still holding him as close to me as possible.

I awoke early the next morning and quietly slipped out of bed, letting Starsky sleep. Rough nights left us both exhausted and on edge. I made myself some breakfast and put on some coffee. I grabbed the morning paper off the front steps and sat down to read it while I ate.

 

When I finished my breakfast, I put the dishes in the sink and walked back into the bedroom. Starsky was still sleeping and I found myself standing there looking at the face of my beloved. There were dark circles under his eyes and new lines around his mouth and eyes that hadn't been there before the shooting. His face was drawn and gaunt from his weight loss, leaving his cheekbones much too prominent. But what bothered me the most was that the sparkle was missing from his eyes; they were dull and flat, filled with pain constantly. I wished I could bring back that sparkle and see that 1000-watt smile on his face again. I missed that. I missed it so much.

 

I walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain to let in the early morning sunlight. Starsky was not much of a morning person, he never had been. Me on the other hand, I loved the mornings. Even on my days off, I was usually up at dawn taking my morning run along the beach near my apartment. In most ways, Starsky and I were as different as night and day but somehow we complimented each other and balanced each other out. Underneath that tough, street cop exterior, Starsky was the kindest, gentlest man I knew. He was loyal and trustworthy, the best friend a man could ever ask for. Without his friendship, my life would be so empty and lonely.

 

"Hey...." I turned as I heard the soft echo of his voice behind me and smiled. His eyes were open and I knew he probably needed to get up and go to the bathroom. I crossed over to the bed and reached down to gently brush his hair back from his face. "Morning, buddy." I said softly "You need to get up?"

 

"Yeah..." he admitted, "Unless you wanna change the sheets."

 

I chuckled as I helped him to sit up on the bed, giving him a minute to orient himself, before helping him to his feet. Slowly, I guided him into the bathroom and helped him through his morning routine. When he was done brushing his teeth, I helped him back into the bedroom and dressed him in a pair of sweat pants and a oversized tee shirt so he could lie on the couch in the living room for awhile.

 

Even walking the short distance from his bedroom to the sofa left him exhausted and panting for breath, a thin sheen of sweat on his face. I settled him down into a comfortable position with plenty of pillows under his head and behind his back. I turned on the TV and went into the kitchen to find him something for breakfast. Hopefully, I would be able to get him to eat something this morning, then I would give him his morning meds. I opened a container of strawberry yogurt and fixed a small bowl of oatmeal with plenty of sugar and maple syrup. Carrying the tray back over to the sofa, I sat it down on the coffee table and then sat on the edge of the sofa beside him.

"You hungry?" I asked even though I already knew what the answer would be.

 

"No..." he muttered flatly

 

"Come on, Starsk." I insisted. "You have to eat something....come on, just a few bites.....for me." I spoon-fed him all of the yogurt and half of the oatmeal before he refused to eat anymore. I hoped the doctor would put him back on regular food soon, maybe then he would eat more. His stomach had been so torn up by the bullets that had ripped into his body that he still had trouble digesting food and keeping it down. In addition, the various medications he was taking tended to make him nauseous, which only added to his discomfort and decreased his appetite. I made a mental note to call Huggy later and have him pick up a strawberry shake and a chocolate Sundae from the Daisy Queen.

 

"I'm sorry, Hutch...." Starsky said, drawing my attention back to him. I glanced at him, arching my eyebrow questioningly. Even in the best of times, Starsky could change the subject so fast sometimes that I had trouble keeping up with his train of thought.

"Sorry about what?" I asked quietly, reaching out to gently massage his shoulder.

"Sorry about making you take care of me like this." He said, "Sorry I got shot. Sorry I can't even take a leak by myself without somebody helping me...." His voice trailed off and I saw the tears glistening in his eyes. Since the shooting, his emotions had been dangerously close to the surface, spilling over without much warning.

 

"First of all, you have nothing to be sorry for." I told him in as firm a voice as I could manage. "You didn't ask to get shot....there's no way you could have prevented it and neither could I. You were right in their line of fire and you had no place to go. Second....I'm here taking care of you because I want to not because I have to. Do you really think I would let anybody else take care of you right now? I know you don't want anyone else to see you like this. But I also know that you will get better....it's just gonna take time." I smiled to take the sting out of my words and added "And as for not being able to take a leak by yourself, well....you had trouble doing that by yourself even before you got shot." I saw the ghost of a smile tug at the corners of his lips at my feeble attempt at humor. I cupped my hand against his cheek and made him turn his head to look at me. In a somber tone, I said, "I know how hard this is for you, Starsky. It's hard for me seeing you like this but you can't give up. You've already beaten the odds so many times. I know you're depressed and I know you hate feeling like an invalid....but you will get better. Count on it. You just have to keep fighting no matter how hard it is."

 

"I'm tired, Hutch...." He whispered, a tear slowly slipping down his cheek "I'm so tired of it hurting all the time....I just want it to stop....just for a little while...." His voice choked up "I can't even remember what it feels like not to hurt all the time...."

 

"I know...." I said, gently pulling him into my arms and holding him close. "I know." I could feel the slight trembling of his body as he began to silently cry, burying his face against my shoulder. If Gunther and the men he had hired to shot Starsky weren't already in prison, I would have hunted them down and torn them apart with my bare hands and I would have enjoyed every minute of it. I felt my own eyes filling with tears as I brushed my lips across the top of his curls. Starsky had never done anything to deserve this kind of living hell. He would survive this. I would make sure of that. Even if it took every penny I had and every ounce of my energy, every piece of my pride, he would survive. And I would never let anyone hurt him like this again.

 

CHAPTER 4

 

I helped Starsky out of the car and up the steps to his apartment. The doctor's appointment that morning had gone exceptionally well. He had been home from the hospital for just over three weeks and the doctor had decided to finally put him back on a regular diet, hoping that he would start to gain back the weight he had lost. He still couldn't have anything real spicy but at least he could eat some of his favorite foods again. He had also removed the stitches from his chest, stomach and back, a long agonizing process that had taken almost two hours and totally exhausted Starsky's limited stamina. The incisions and scar tissue were still sore and painful but with the stitches finally removed, he would be able to at soak in a bathtub. No showers quite yet, not until he was a little stronger. He had also discontinued and reduced some of his medications. He was still on some heavy-duty pain medication, that had not changed, but he had discontinued the pills for his blood pressure and the blood thinners. He had also prescribed a new medication to help with his nausea and some new antibiotics.

 

The visit had gone well and been encouraging. Every little step forward was a reason to celebrate. But the visit had also left Starsky completely exhausted and in a lot of pain, his body not accustomed to so much activity. The doctor had given him a shot just before we left his office that had pretty much knocked him out and would probably make him sleep for the rest of the day once I got him back to bed. Starsky was so out of it that I literally had to carry him upstairs and into his bedroom. I laid him down without bothering to undress him and covered him with a light blanket. I pulled the curtains to darken the room and then went back into the living room to relax for a while myself. I called Captain Dobey and Huggy to let them know the news from the doctor. I also called Starsky's mother in New York with an update on his condition. Then I stretched out on the sofa and took a short nap of my own.

 

I felt better when I woke up a couple of hours later. I cleaned up the kitchen and decided to make something special for supper since Starsky could finally eat 'real food' again. I finally decided on a casserole, rolls, and baked potatoes with sour cream and cheese. I whipped up the casserole and put it in the oven, then went into the bedroom to check on Starsky. I took him a glass of orange juice since the doctor had said to continue to push fluids as much as possible. He was still sleeping but was showing signs of starting to wake up. He opened his eyes when I softly spoke his name and brushed my knuckles along the side of his cheek.

 

"Hey..." I said with a gentle smile, "I brought you some juice."

 

"What time is it?" he asked as I helped him to sit up against the pillows that I plumped up behind him.

 

"Around five." I told him

 

"Something smells good." He said with a crooked smile as he accepted the juice I handed him and took a sip.

 

"Figured I fix something good for supper now that the doc said you could eat 'real food' again." I told him with a grin.

 

"Yeah...just hope I can keep it down." He said with a soft sigh.

 

"The doctor said that new medicine should help with the nausea." I reminded him "And maybe after supper, you can soak in the tub for a while if you feel up to it."

 

"Instead of a sponge bath?" He said with a faint smile "Sounds like heaven" A ghost of his old smile played around his lips. "Never thought I'd ever say that about lying in a tub."

 

"I know you prefer showers but that's gonna have to wait for a couple of weeks at least. I don't want you fallin' on your face trying to take one by yourself."

"You could always join me." He said with a hint of his old humor. I turned away so he wouldn't see the flush that crept into my face at the images that suggestion brought to mind.

 

"Afraid people would talk, babe..." I told him trying to keep my voice light and casual."

"Let 'em talk." he replied, "Won't be nothing new." It felt good to hear him chuckle again. Because of our open affection for one another, there had always been rumors about the two of us floating around headquarters. With the chance in my feelings towards Starsky since the shooting, the rumors suddenly took on a completely new meaning that made me uncomfortable.

 

When he finished his juice, I carefully helped him out of bed and into the bathroom to attend to other needs. He needed a shave but I would help him take care of that later. Shaving, even with his electric razor, was enough to wear him out without some help. He was a little stronger then he had been when he first came home but not much. I helped him out to the living room and settled him down on the sofa. I gave him his evening meds (all except the pain pill which he'd get just before bedtime so he'd sleep through the night unless the pain got too bad before then) I turned on the TV for him while I went into the kitchen to finish supper.

 

I was pleased when it came time to eat to notice that he actually seemed to have an appetite for a chance. He was even able to feed himself most of the meal, even though he had to eat with his right hand, which was a little awkward for him since it wasn't his dominant hand. He ate everything on his plate but then I hadn't given him very big helpings to begin with. I could tell he was getting tired by the time he finished and knew that he'd be ready for bed again soon. I took our dishes out to the kitchen and cleaned up, putting the leftover casserole in the refrigerator. Going back into the living room, I said,

"You wanna lie back down or you wanna take that bath first?"

 

"Bath..." he said with a hopeful tone in his voice that I couldn't ignore. I hid a smile as I helped him to his feet. After almost four months of nothing but sponge baths, I'd be looking forward to a real bath again myself.

 

"Okay. Bath it is then." I told him "But if you can't handle it...then you let me know. Okay?"

 

"Okay." He said with a slight nod of his curly head. I guided him into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed while I went into the bathroom to start the water for his bath. I adjusted the water to a comfortable temperature and let the tub fill while I went back into the other room with Starsky. Helping to his feet, I slowly guided him into the bathroom and helped him to undress. Carefully, I helped him into the tub and eased him slowly down into the water. When he was all the way in the tub, I turned off the water and looked at him with a smile. He was leaning his head back against the wall with his eyes closed and such a look of complete bliss on his face that it made my heart swell with joy. Starsky had always had a child like enthusiasm for the simplest things. That was one of the things that I had always loved about him.

 

I got a clean towel and washrag out of the bathroom closet, along with some bath gel that I had bought when I stayed overnight a few months ago. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I wet the washrag and said softly, "Hey, don't fall asleep yet. Here....wash your face." Starsky's eyes opened reluctantly and he took the washrag in his right hand. He couldn't do much for himself but I continued to encourage him to do as much as he could to help with his personal care. At least that gave him some sense of independence. After he had washed his face, I squeezed a little of the gel on the rag so that he could wash his neck and left side. When he had finished, I took the rag from him and gently washed his back and his left side.

 

With infinite care, I washed his chest and stomach, taking care not to put too much pressure on the still healing scars and incisions. As I was finishing that task, Starsky kept his eyes locked on my face, refusing to look at the scars that marred his upper torso. I knew that it still upset him terribly to see the damage that had been left behind from the shooting and the necessary surgeries that it had taken to save his life.

 

"You doing okay, partner?" I asked him quietly.

 

"Getting tired." He whispered so quietly I could barely hear him. There was a crack in his voice that told me something was wrong but I wasn't sure what it was. "Think I need to lay down."

 

"What is it, buddy?" I asked him in concerned voice. He refused to answer, just shaking his head stubbornly. I knew better than to push it. Whatever was bothering him, he would talk about it when he was ready to. "Let's finish up here and get you back in bed." I suggested, skillfully changing the subject. I helped him to finish bathing and shampooed his hair. Then I carefully helped him out of the tub and got him dried off. Back in the bedroom, I quickly dressed him in a pair of sweat pants and helped him to get positioned in the bed.

 

When I finished, he looked at me anxiously and whispered "You're gonna sleep here with me, aren't you?"

 

"Of course I am." I assured him "Just gonna grab a quick shower myself first." He nodded and accepted the glass of water and his pain pill. I knew that he would probably be asleep by the time I finished my shower and climbed into bed beside him. I grabbed my sweatpants and hurried into the bathroom.

 

When I came back into the bedroom forty-five minutes later, Starsky appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Crawling in beside him, I curled up behind him and wrapped my arm around his waist protectively. I was mildly surprised when he mumbled in a slurred voice "I'm glad you're here, Hutch....I couldn't do this without you...."

 

"I'm glad I'm here too, buddy." I told him, impulsively kissing the back of his left shoulder. "Now go to sleep. You've had a long day." Within a few minutes, I heard his breathing slowing down and deepening as he fell asleep. As I felt myself drifting off, I found myself hoping that he would have a good night so we could both get some much-needed rest.

 

CHAPTER 5

 

I had been sitting by the bed most of the morning just watching Starsky sleep. He had always been a restless sleeper, tossing and turning, stretching, talking in his sleep. It was if all that nervous energy he had inside of him and the tension that built up during the day still had to have some kind of release even in his sleep. The only time he slept without much movement was when he was heavily medicated as he was now. A soft whimpering sound alerted me that he would be waking up soon. Almost on cue, those sapphire eyes slowly opened and he smiled at me sleepily.

 

"Hey..." he whispered

 

"Hey, yourself. Coffee?" I offered him my cup with a grin. I watched as he struggled to pull himself to a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard. Finally, I reached out and grabbed his right arm to help him shift around in the bed.

 

"Thanks." He said gratefully. He took my cup and took a drink before handing the cup back to me. I took a moment to access his condition. Although it had only been a week since the doctor had put him back on a regular diet, he had already gained back a few pounds. His face was starting to fill back out and his color was getting better. He was also starting to use his left hand a little. He would still need extensive physical therapy to regain full mobility and flexibility and to restore his muscle tone but with each day that passed, I could see a little more improvement in his overall condition.

 

"You wanna come out in the living room and I'll make you some breakfast?" I suggested. He nodded and waited patiently while I got him out of bed and helped him with his morning routine in the bathroom. Then I helped into the living room and settled him down on the sofa while I made him toast, coffee, juice, scrambled eggs with cheese, and hash browns. Sitting the plate on the coffee table in front of him, I sat down at the other end of the sofa and watched him eat. I could tell that he seemed distracted about something, lost in his own thoughts. After watching him push his food around on the plate more than he ate, I finally said,

 

"What's wrong, Starsky? Are you hurting? Do you need something?"

 

"I'm always hurting." He said with a thin smile "That's nothing new....I just want my life back, ya know?" There was such a pleading tone in his voice and a deep sadness in his eyes that I instinctively slid closer to his side and put my arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to me. With a soft sigh, he leaned his head against my shoulder and added "I hate this...I hate having to depend on you for everything......"

 

"Hey, I thought we went through this before...." I told him, "I'm here because I want to be. I'm not about to let some stranger take care of you....and you're getting a little bit better every day...I can see it."

 

"I wish I could." He sighed "I'm scared, Hutch...."

 

"Scared about what?" I asked sensing that this was something he needed to talk about.

 

"Scared that I'll never be a cop again..." he said quietly "That I'll never be able to be your partner again...." His voice trailed off and I had the feeling that there was more.

 

"What else?" I probed gently

I saw him swallow hard and then he said, "I'm scared that I'll never be a real man again.....I...I...haven't...I can't...." His voice cracked and he fell silent but I realized what was bothering him.

 

"Hey, buddy...." I said as gently as I could "You're on a lot of pretty strong medication....that's bound to mess things up right now ....."

 

"Don't matter...." He whispered in a dejected voice "Even if I could get it up....what woman is gonna wanna be with somebody that looks like some kind of freak?" Suddenly, it all made sense. His scars. The physical evidence of his ordeal. The permanent reminder of what had happened to him.

 

"Oh, Starsk...." I said softly "If a woman doesn't wanna be with you just because of your scars, then she's not a woman you wanna be with anyway." I gently cupped his chin in my hand and turned his head so that he was looking into my eyes. "Do you know what I see when I see your scars?" He shook his head slightly and I saw the fear in his eyes as he waited for my answer "I see a miracle...each one of those scars is proof that you're still alive and just how much it cost you to survive." My voice lowered to a whisper as I added, "You're my miracle, David Michael Starsky. My living breathing miracle."

 

Without thinking about what I was doing, I leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. At first there was no response, he just sat there and let me kiss him. Then he moaned deep in his throat, made a sound almost like a whimper and opened his mouth, allowing me to deepen the kiss. Our tongues met as we explored the sweetness of each other's mouths. I felt a jolt that surged though my whole body at the pleasure of that kiss. It took all of my self-control to keep from taking things any farther than just that one kiss.

 

I was shaking when I finally pulled away and so was he, I could his muscles trembling and there was a look in his eyes that I couldn't immediately identify. I sat there waiting for some kind of response from Starsky. My heart pounded frantically in my chest, terrified that I had just destroyed our friendship beyond repair. I heard him take a deep shuddering breath, then he slowly reached up and touched my cheek with his right hand.

"What was that all about, Blondie?" he asked with a crooked smile.

 

"I...I...I " I stuttered nervously, cursing myself for the stutter that always surfaced when I was anxious or upset. I took a deep breath of my own to calm down and said "I'm sorry.....you can punch me if you want to....but I've been wanting to do that for a long time..." I could feel the flush that crept up my neck into my face, making my cheeks burn. "I'm in love with you, Starsk." I admitted reluctantly. "I..I..I have been for a long time."

 

A smile tugged at the edges of Starsky lips and he looked deeply into my eyes as he whispered, "It's about time you figured that out...."

 

"You knew?" I asked in a startled voice, looking at him in surprise.

 

"Let's just say....I hoped I wasn't reading the signals wrong..." he replied with a thin smile. "I'm in love you too, Hutch.....I always have been."

 

"But I....you never..." I said, my mind still trying to comprehend that Starsky was telling me that he felt the same way I did.

 

"Shut up, Blondie..." he told me "You try to analyze things too much....I'm okay with this as long as you are.......I...uh....just ain't sure how much I can do right now...."

 

"I know..." I said, blushing again "I didn't mean....I don't ya to think...."

 

He laughed softly and put his fingers against my lips, silencing me. "Just be quiet and kiss me again.....that's one thing I can do...."

 

I didn't need to be asked again. I reached out and gently wrapped my arms around his waist as I bent my head for another sweet kiss. This time, he responded with the same fiery passion that characterized everything else he did. His response to our second kiss made it clear that he felt the same way I did.

 

CHAPTER 6

 

I sat there on the sofa with Starsky leaning against me, his head on my shoulder and my arms still wrapped around his waist. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Starsky apparently felt the same way I did and wasn't opposed to taking our relationship to an entirely new level.

 

"I guess we should talk, huh?" I said quietly as I raised one hand and gently brushed a curl back off his forehead. Starsky turned his head so he could look at me, another one of those unreadable expressions in his eyes.

 

"I guess...." He said but he didn't sound too anxious to begin. In spite of all the years we had known each other and how close we were as friends, I knew there was still a part of Starsky that I didn't really know and that was the part of him that I was seeing now.

 

"Starsk....I just want ya to know that....I never expected anything like this to happen...I'm not even sure how it did.....all I know is that I fell in love with you and I wanna be with you for the rest of my life."

 

"Is that some kind of proposal, baby blue?" Starsky asked with a weak smile, a hint of his old humor shining through.

 

"If you're asking me if I want this to be an exclusive relationship....then yeah....I guess I am."

 

"You sure you're ready for that, Hutch?" Starsky asked quietly, his eyes searching my face anxiously "Have you ever really been with another man before?"

 

"Kinda...." I said with a deep blush. "I mean there were a couple of guys in college and we...uh...sorta fooled around a few times."

 

"Fooled around, huh? What did ya do? Steal a couple of kisses? Jack each other off?"

 

"Yeah...." I admitted, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

 

"No blow jobs? No going all the way?" Starsky asked in a strange almost hypnotic voice.

 

"No....nothing like that." I looked at Starsky, trying to read the expression in those deep sapphire eyes.

 

"So I got myself a real live virgin, huh?" Starsky said with a soft chuckle, followed by a wince of pain.

 

"Yeah, I guess you do." I said feeling myself blushing again at the bluntness of his words "What about you?"

 

"Oh...I've done it all, Blondie." He said in a subdued voice "In another life....another world."

 

"Viet Nam?" I asked already sensing the answer.

 

"There was the usual kid stuff when I was a teenager....circle jerks and all that crap." He said softly "Then when I got sent to 'Nam, I met this guy named Jeremy. He taught me the rest...."

 

"Where you in love with him?" I hated to ask but there was a part of me that had to know.

 

Starsky seemed to consider the question for a long time and then he said, "I guess I thought I was at the time."

 

"What happened?" I asked, not really sure I wanted to hear the answer.

 

"Well, when the guy you've been lovers with for over a year dies in your arms with his guts hanging out in your lap....it kinda turns ya off on the idea of getting involved with another man anytime soon...." He said his voice barely above a whisper. Instinctively, I tightened my arms around his waist.

 

"God, Starsk....I'm sorry...." I knew my words sounded empty but I really didn't know what else to say.

 

"That's okay...it was a long time ago." He told me in an offhanded way with a soft sigh. "When I came home, I decided to go 'straight'...seemed like the best idea at the time, ya know? Did a damn good job of it too.....until I met you."

 

"Starsk, are you trying to tell me that you've always felt that way about me?"

 

"No, not exactly....I mean I was attracted to you from the start but I knew you didn't swing that way....and neither did I, not anymore anyway." He paused to gather his thoughts and then continued "We became friends, partners....and I fell in love with you like a brother....I guess I realized that I loved you as more than that just before I got shot....but I was too chicken to say anything. I didn't wanna screw up what we already had."

 

"Ya know, that's when I realized that I had fallen 'in love' with you...when you got shot and I didn't know if you were gonna live or not. I couldn't even begin to imagine my life without you in it."

 

"I guess now is a hell of a time for us to come clean with each other." Starsky said with a grin "I ain't exactly in any condition to do much about it right now...." He looked deeply into my eyes and reached out to touch my cheek "To show you just how much I love you...." I felt an immediate reaction in my groin as his words made me think about a future that included a sexual relationship with my partner, my very male partner.

 

"Hey, I ain't going nowhere." I told him as I caught his hand and gently pressed my lips against the palm of his hand. "We got the rest of our lives to get around to that part...."

"We gotta do something about that blush of yours...." He told me with a dirty laugh that sent a chill down my spine as I felt the blush that colored my cheeks again. I shifted positions again as my jeans became noticeably tighter.

 

Before I realized what Starsky was going to do, he dropped his hand to my lap and rubbed his palm against the bulge in my jeans. I yelped and almost jumped out of my skin at his touch. With a strangled moan, I involuntarily bucked my hips against his hand and then I blushed an even deeper shade of red with embarrassment. Starsky chuckled softly and leaned closer, whispering in my ear "What's the matter, Baby blue? Did you blow your load?"

 

"Damn you, Starsk." I muttered, lowering my eyes self-consciously "I haven't done that since I was a teenager."

 

"Guess you really do want me after all." He replied a hint of that old sparkle slipping into his eyes.

 

"You have no idea..." I growled, silencing him with a kiss. I was panting heavily when I released him. He smiled faintly, his eyes flashing with lust. I wanted more, so much more but I knew he was in no condition for that right now and so did he. I could also tell that he was getting tired and needed to rest. "How about I make us something to eat and then get you back to bed?"

 

"Okay." He said, letting me stand up so I go into the kitchen and decide what to cook us for supper. As I puttered around the kitchen, debating on what to fix, I kept stealing glances at the couch where he had curled up to watch TV while I cooked. I found myself smiling as I admired the graceful lines of his body and found myself imagining holding that body in my arms as his lover instead of just as his friend. Sternly I reminded myself that would have to wait until he was stronger and not in constant pain.

 

CHAPTER 7

 

I woke up the next morning with an armful of Starsky. The same way I had fallen asleep the night before. No, we didn't do anything, other than a few deep lingering kisses and some gentle caresses. We knew that anything more than that would have to wait until Starsky was in better physical condition than he was in now.

 

It's funny. Starsky and I have seen each other naked so many times over the years that we've been friends that I've lost count. And we have always been openly affectionate with each other, touching, hugging, patting. We've even shared the same bed more than once (not to mention the same a woman a time or two). But last night, to sleep with him lying naked in my arms, to feel his bare skin against mine, and to caress him with a lover's touch, was so special to both of us that there just aren't any words to describe it. We both knew that we had found our true soul mate, the one we were meant to be with for the rest of our lives. I almost felt like a teenager again with his first major crush on a girl. Almost, but not quite. I finally felt a peace with my life, my sexuality, and myself.

 

I couldn't help smiling as I looked at Starsky snuggled up against me with his head resting against my shoulder, sleeping so peacefully. He looked so much like a tired little boy when he was asleep. That was the part of him that I loved the most, that mischievous little boy who never quite grew up completely.

 

But, he was also one of the strongest, most fiercely independent, strong willed people that I know. He'd proven that last night by exhibiting more self-control than I would have ever imagined in spite of his obvious desire for us to take our new relationship to a higher level. He knew he wasn't physically ready for that much exertion yet so he'd been content with just some heavy making out.

 

He'd refused to take his meds, wanting simply to enjoy the sensation of lying in my arms and feeling my touching him in the most inmate way possible. Finally, his pain became too much for me and I made him take his meds, then held him tenderly in my arms as he fell asleep. And for the first time since he'd been shot, he actually slept peacefully the whole night through. No restlessness, no pain to disturb his rest, no nightmares, just a peaceful restful sleep, something he needed so badly. I'd like to think that the shift in our relationship was responsible for finally giving him that kind of peace.

 

I hated to wake him, he was sleeping so soundly but he had a doctor's appointment that morning and I needed to get him up and ready for that. So I claimed his lips, gently kissing him awake. A sleepy smile pulled at his mouth as his eyes slowly opened and he looked deeply into mine. He immediately returned my kiss with more than a little enthusiasm.

 

"Whoa, partner..." I teased him gently "Don't get too carried away. You got a doctor's appointment this morning and we need to get you up and ready."

 

"I'd rather stay here like this." He teased back, awkwardly running his right hand through my hair.

 

"So would I." I admitted with a soft chuckle "But first things first. Let's get you to your appointment and then we can come back here and crawl back into bed for the rest of the day if you want to."

 

"By the time I get done at with the doctor, I won't be able to do nothing except take my pain pills, crawl back in bed and sleep for the rest of the day." He complained, "After all that poking, turning, prodding and twisting around he makes me do."

 

"I know." I said gently as I stroked my hand through his hair. I knew that the appointments with the doctor were still quite painful and exhausting for him. "But you are getting better....let's just take it one day at a time. Okay?"

 

"Okay." He said, "I guess I really do need to get up. I gotta take a leak."

 

I climbed out of bed and walked around to his side. He had gotten to the point where he could roll over in bed by himself with only a moderate amount of pain but he still needed my help to sit up and to actually get on his feet. I helped him and into the bathroom to start another day.

 

The doctor's appointment did wear him out physically and made his body hurt even more than usual but there was some good news at least. The doctor felt that he was strong enough to start physical therapy to help regain his muscle tone, his coordination, and his flexible. Starting at the end of the week, a therapist would come to the house three times a week to work with him and to help get his muscles and stiffened joints back in shape. It was one more step in the right direction. The therapist would also be showing me some simple stretching exercises that I could do with Starsky in the evenings. The doctor was pleased with how Starsky's injuries were healing.

 

The incisions from the various surgeries were almost completely healed but his right lung, which had been seriously damaged by the shooting, was taking longer to heal than he had originally anticipated. He still could not predict how much of his lung capacity Starsky would be able to regain. Only time would tell. He still had a long road to recovery ahead of him. Once again, he had cut back on his meds and the only drugs he had to continue to take was his pain medication, medication for the nausea that continued to torment him, and some strong antibiotics to help prevent any infections. His immune system was still severely impaired so even a slight cold could be dangerous to him in his weakened condition. With his injured lung, pneumonia continued to be a constant threat.

 

I got him home and settled back in bed, giving him an extra dose of his pain meds so that he could rest. While he slept, I cleaned the apartment. I decided to order Chinese food for supper that night as a special treat. After calling Huggy and Captain Dobey to let them know how it had gone at the doctor's appointment, I joined Starsky in the bedroom. I carefully slipped into bed beside him and gently cradled him in my arms as he slept. My protective instincts where he was concerned had kicked into overdrive. I would have done anything to take this burden away from him. He had already suffered so much. I made a silent vow to spend the rest of my life taking care of him.

 

CHAPTER 8

 

I sighed softly as I brushed a curl back from Starsky's forehead. He'd had his first therapy session that afternoon and it had left him in excruciating pain as muscles and joints that had stiffened up since the shooting were forced to started stretching and moving beyond their limited ability. I had tried giving him a massage when we got home hoping that would help to relax his strained and cramped muscles but it didn't seem to help much. So, I settled for just cradling him in my arms, feeling helpless because I couldn't do more to relieve his pain.

 

His breathing had finally leveled out as he rode out the pain stoically. But I knew how much pain he was still in by the thin sheen of perspiration on his face. I had given him some of his pain meds but they hadn't kicked in yet.

 

"That was rough, huh?" I whispered gently

 

"You could say that." Starsky whispered back, the edge in his voice betraying the pain he was still feeling. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath "But it helps just having you here.....feeling your arms around me...."

 

"Anytime, buddy....anytime." I said leaning down to kiss his forehead.

 

"God, Hutch....it hurt so bad..." he whimpered, "I didn't expect it to hurt so bad...."

 

"I know....But it'll get better....it can't get much worse..." I tried to keep my voice light and easy but my heart was breaking as I was forced to watch him continuing to suffer so much.

 

"I wish I could make love to you...." He said with a crack in his voice even as a crooked smile tugged at his lips. "That's always relaxes me....."

 

"Don't even go there, babe....you know you're not up to that yet....and we're not about to do anything more than we already have until you are." I said firmly. I pulled him closer so he could rest his head on my chest. I knew how much of a 'physical' person my partner was. He communicated his feelings and emotions through touch just as much as he did verbally. And I knew he felt inadequate and insecure since all we had done so far was kiss and share some intimate caresses. Between his physical condition and the meds he was on, Starsky wasn't able to get an erection. And even though he had made it clear that he was more than willing to pleasure me, I had refused to let him even give me a hand job until he was well enough to be a willing and active participant in our lovemaking. (even if it meant a lot of cold showers for me in the meantime)

 

"This sucks..." he muttered in a tired voice as he snuggled closer to me.

 

"Yeah, tell me about it." I told him with a soft chuckle. "You're not the one who has to take all the cold showers."

 

"Hey," he said in a slightly hurt voice, "I offered to take care of you..."

 

"And I told you nothing doing.....not until you can have some of the fun too..." I reminded him firmly.

 

"What if I can't ever get it back up again, Hutch?" he said in a barely audible voice "You really want damaged goods?"

 

"Hey," I said catching his chin in my hand and lifting his head so he had to look into my eyes. "You are not damaged goods! You got that?" His eyes were half-closed, his long dark lashes masking his pupils so that I couldn't see his eyes clearly. When he didn't immediately answer me, I repeated myself "You got that?" Slowly, he nodded his head.

 

I let out a soft sigh as I let go of his chin and rested my chin against the top of his soft curls. I also knew just how passionate a man Starsky was and how terrified he was of being left impotent from the attack on his life. But I had talked to the doctor and he seemed confident that everything should be okay when Starsky got healthier and his medications were reduced. I just wished I could convince Starsky that it would all be okay eventually. His sexuality was as much a part of him as his stubborn streak and his little boy persona. I listened as his breathing slowly deepened and leveled out as his meds took effect and he finally found some peace and some much-needed rest.

"Hang in there, babe..." I whispered under my breath "We'll make it through this. Just like always....me and thee."

 

I closed my eyes and tried to rest myself. This man in my arms was my life, my very soul, my entire reason for living. He had cheated death and now death wanted revenge. I wondered how much more he could take before he lost it completely. The doctor had warned me that he could become depressed, especially since his recovery would be so slow and painful. I could already see him starting to slip into a mild depression but who could blame him after all he had been through so far?

 

Most men wouldn't have even survived the attack in the first place. He had not only survived that but he had survived the ride to the hospital. The triage in the emergency room. Emergency surgery that lasted over ten hours just to stabilize his condition. A cardiac arrest that left him dead for over five minutes. A coma that lasted two weeks. Six more surgeries over a three-month period to repair his shattered body, most of that time spent flat on his back in a hospital bed. And now, over six weeks of constant pain since he'd been home, forced to be dependent on me for even his most basic needs. Who the hell wouldn't be depressed after all that? If I had been in his place, I would have lost it a long time ago.

 

Sometimes I wondered if it would have been better to wait until he was recovered before telling him how I felt but in another way, I knew that my confessing my true feelings had given him another reason to fight that much harder to recover. For me and for himself. We were in this together for the duration. Our hearts and our souls were linked now for eternity.

 

CHAPTER 9

 

Starsky moaned softly as I dug my fingers into his back and shoulders trying to ease the spasm that had his muscles in knots. Finally, I felt the tightness in the body beneath my hands beginning to relax. I heard Starsky sigh softly as he finally relaxed against the bed.

"That better?" I whispered, brushing my lips gently across the back of his neck.

"Yeah. Thanks, babe." He said softly, rolling over onto his side with one arm resting beneath his head.. I curled up against him, molding my front to his back, my hand casually resting against his hip. I sighed in pleasure as I let my lips nuzzle against the back of his neck.

 

"Feels good." Starsky murmured in a sleepy voice. It hadn't taken me long to discover just how sensitive certain spots on his throat were. I was slowly discovering all the other places that turned him on too as we gradually became bolder and more comfortable with exploring each other's bodies. Two weeks into his physical therapy sessions and already Starsky was starting to show improvement. Slowly the pain from his physical injuries was starting to fade and was being replaced by the pain of his therapy. Two very different types of pain but both signs of his recovery.

 

"Just relax and enjoy...." I told him as I continued nuzzling at his neck while I slowly ran my hand down across the muscles of his thigh and then back up over his side and his ribcage in a gentle caress. Suddenly, I felt his body tense up but I wasn't sure why.

"What's wrong?" I asked anxiously "I didn't do something to hurt you did I?"

 

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all..." he said in tightly strained voice. I wished I could see his eyes but with his back to me, I couldn't see his face. Then I felt him take my hand and move it from his lower ribs to his stomach and then down. I caught my breath as my fingertips brushed against his semi-erect cock. "I'm sorry..." he whispered, "I didn't know that was gonna happen....." I could feel his chest moving rapidly as his breathing deepened and he tried to move away from my arms.

 

"It's okay, buddy...." I reassured him quietly, tightening my embrace so he couldn't pull away from me. "It's a good thing....remember?" I let my fingers brush lightly against his cock, feeling him growing harder beneath my touch. He moaned softly and leaned his head back against my chest and I heard a strangled sob catch in his throat.

 

"Please....." I heard him whimper in a broken lost voice that almost broke my heart. "Touch me, Hutch...... I won't last long....."

 

"Just relax, partner...." I whispered "And let me take care of everything....." I gently rolled him over so that he was laying on his back, looking at me through heavily lidded eyes, his eyes almost black with desire and need. Smiling, I lowered my head and gently started trailing kisses across his chest, pausing momentarily to pay a little attention to his nipples before continuing my quest downward. I had waited for this moment for so long. I wanted to make it good, for him and for myself, for both of us.

 

I could hear him moaning as his body started squirming beneath my lips but I didn't want to rush this moment. I sensed how dangerously close he was already and I knew he'd come the minute I got anywhere close to his cock. I let one arm fall over the top of his thighs to keep him from bucking his hips as a made my way to the dark cluster of curls at the base of his shaft.

 

"HHHUTCHHH...." He cried out "OH GOD...PLEASSEEE...."

 

Unable to resist his pleas and not wanting to cause him any unnecessary pain, I ran my tongue up the length of his shaft to the end. With one final glance at his face, I opened my mouth and took as much of him into my mouth as I could. I felt the shudder that ran through his entire body at my actions and heard his sharp intake a breath. I could smell a combination of musk, sandalwood and that distinct aroma that was pure Starsky. My own heart was pounding in my chest and my cock aching with my own need and desire. I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt Starsky's fingers curling around my own erection, stroking firmly even as I suckled him.

 

I groaned in response and bucked my own hips in rhythm to his strokes. I felt his hips starting to move, matching the rhythm of my mouth as we each fell into our own natural rhythm, concentrating on our own pleasure and the pleasure we were giving to each other. I could feel the tingling deep inside of me that built in intensity as I edged closer and closer to my own orgasm. Starsky came first, filling my mouth with his essence. Like a man dying of thirst, I swallowed it all. With a strangled cry, I heard Starsky scream out my name as his body exploded, every muscle trembling from the intensity of his orgasm. Within seconds, my own body exploded, my seed spilling out over his hand and to the sheet beneath me.

 

Gasping for air, I let his softening cock slip out of my mouth as I twisted around so I could reach for him, claiming his mouth in a deep kiss, letting him taste himself on my lips. Finally, I collapsed onto the bed beside him, both of us breathing heavily as we waited for our breathing to return to normal and our heart rates to slow back down. Starsky curled up in my arms, our lips meeting in another long lingering hiss, my hands tangling gently in his curls. It may not have been perfect but it had still been a satisfying first time for both of us.

 

"I love you, Starsky..." I whispered as I leaned down to nuzzle the side of his sensitive neck. At that moment, I knew that I was lost forever, my soul and my body owned completely by this man I held in my arms.

 

"I love you too, Hutch..." he said, sounding suspiciously close to tears with a catch in his voice. I knew that he was relieved because he had been so afraid that he might never be able to get it up again because of his injuries. He still wasn't up to a lot of exertion but at least now, we could have some kind of sexual activity between us even if it was relatively mild. We drifted off to sleep cradled in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of our newfound love. He would survive and our love would flourish, nurtured by both of us, joined together forever in our hearts and in our souls.

 

THE END