Do You Trust Me?
 

by MysticWhim

Hutch flipped open the magazine to an article he had begun earlier.  His partner sat beside him, staring at the building in complete boredom.  This stakeout was getting endless, and they both were feeling the frustration of it.  Starsky turned to Hutch and asked, "Whatcha reading?"  He didn't really care.  He was just glad for a distraction.

"It's an article about gender and trust," Hutch replies.  "It's talking about when each person in a relationship feels vulnerable, and needs reassurance."

"Sounds like psycho babble to me," Starsky comments dryly.

"It's written by a well respected psychiatrist."  Hutch pointed to the paragraph he was reading.  "Says here, the time when a man is most vulnerable is when he has his penis in another person's mouth, that this requires the greatest trust."

Starsky's eyebrows rose sharply.  "What the...?  Vulnerable?!  That's awful, Hutch!  Boy, you take a beautiful moment like that and turn it into something scary.  Why can't he just enjoy it, huh?  This guy got somethin' against blow jobs?"

"He's got a point here, Starsk.  I mean, just think about it.  You are opening yourself up to risk on a lot of levels.  You are exposed, unprotected, and you are putting yourself into someone's mouth, which is a threatening posture as it is.  Not to mention the emotional and psychological issues that could come into play.  You have to have a certain amount of submissiveness to do that.  It takes a lot of trust."

"Trust!  What's this guy know about trust?  You and I could write an article about trust there, buddy.  This guy don't know squat about trust."

Frustrated with trying to read in the scant light, Hutch tossed the article aside.  "The guy is an authority on interpersonal relationships, Starsk.  And he has a point.  You and I trust each other, but we don't trust each other like that."

"Whadda ya mean we don't trust each other like that?!" Starsky turned in his seat, ready to defend his position.  He leaned his back against the car door, curling his left leg onto the seat.  His arms were stretched along the passenger door, and the top of the seat.  "We trust each other.  Ain't no ultrapersonal shrink gonna tell me different."

"Interpersonal.  And no, you don't.  You don't trust me like that.  You would never be that vulnerable with me, that open with me.  You don't trust me that much.  I wish you did, but you can't."

"Just because I ain't gay, don't mean I'm not open with you, or that I don't trust you."

"It isn't just an issue of sexual preference, Starsky.  It's a degree of trust.  It's a manner of expressing an intimacy that we don't share.  It's a level of relationship."

"I don't know about all that.  I only know I trust you more than I have ever trusted anyone.  Period."

"I'm not saying you don't trust me.  I'm saying you don't trust me to that degree."

"Bullshit, Hutch!  I do trust you that much!"

Hutch's intense eyes were flashing.  There was a definite challenge in his tone.  "Do you Starsky?  Do you trust me?"

Starsky met his piercing stare with his own.  "Of course I trust you."

Hutch slid closer to his partner.  "Do you really trust me, partner?"  He slid his hand up Starsky's thigh, squeezing suggestively as he neared the man's groin.

Starsky did not break eye contact.  "Yes, I really trust you," he answered defiantly. 

Reaching for Starsky's fly, Hutch unfastened the jeans and lowered the zipper.  He again met Starsky's eyes.  "Still trust me?"

"Yeah, I still trust you."

Hutch put his hands down between Starsky's spread legs.  He slid both his hands roughly under the man's ass and squeezed, then quickly grabbed the back pockets of his jeans and yanked the pants down to his thighs. 

Starsky grabbed the car door and the seat back for support, his heart racing.  "How far you gonna take this, Hutch?"

"I'll take it until you stop me," Hutch stated.  "Do you trust me now?"

Starsky swallowed.  "Completely."

Hutch lowered his head, delighted to see Starsky's erection straining against his briefs.  He opened his mouth and took the man into his mouth, underwear and all, holding him firmly with his teeth.  Hutch did not hold hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough to have Starsky's full attention.  Letting his moist, hot breath heat the fabric of the briefs, and the phallus beneath, he waited.  No resistance was offered. 

Starsky was breathing heavily.  A line of sweat was tickling down the center of his back. 

Releasing his hold on his partner, Hutch took hold instead of the briefs, and slowly peeled them down, freeing the cock from its confines.  Hearing Starsky gasp, he met his eyes again.  "Feeling vulnerable, Starsky?"

Starsky didn't answer.  He knew Hutch would not stop, and at this point he wasn't sure if he wanted him to or not.  His voice was barely more than a whisper.  "I trust you, Hutch."

Hutch wrapped his hand around Starsky's cock and began a slow stroke.  "Watch me Starsky."

Locking eyes on his partner, Starsky watched Hutch kiss the head of his penis.  He groaned, but maintained the eye contact.  He couldn't tear his eyes away now if he tried.

Hutch smiled, and swirled his tongue around the head.  He glided the cock into his mouth as Starsky watched, sucking and pleasuring him with his tongue down the shaft.  Starsky let out an almost primal moan...

Hutch awoke from this dream, drenched in sweat, his penis hard as a rock.  "Oh my God," he panted, wiping the perspiration from his face.  He looked about the room, focusing on familiar objects, reassuring himself he was not in his car on a stakeout, and that he was indeed alone.  He went into the bathroom to splash water in his face, the bright light blinding him momentarily.  The cool water helped bring him back into focus.  He reached down for another handful of water, noticing that his hands were trembling badly. 

He stumbled back into his bedroom, and grabbed the phone.  Dialing the familiar number, he desperately waited to hear his partner's voice. 

"H'llo" the sleepy voice mumbled.

"Hey, it's me," Hutch greeted, his own voice shaky.

"Hutch?  You okay?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm okay, Starsk.  I'm okay now."

"Wha' 'appned?"

Suddenly feeling foolish, he stammered, "I'm sorry, buddy.  It's nothing.  Go back to sleep.  Just got freaked out by a dream, that's all.  Sorry I woke you."

"Hutch?  You want me to come over?"

"No!  Ah, no, thanks.  I'm okay now.  Just wanted to hear your friendly voice."

"Musta been some nightmare."  Then he added, "Ya sure you don't want me to come over?"

"No, thanks, pal.  Sorry to wake you.  Go back to sleep."

"Night Hutch."

"Goodnight, Starsk."

Hutch got up and made himself some tea.  He was badly shaken by the dream.  Not only by the disturbing way he had come on to his partner in the dream, but by the way the dream had turned him on, even now that he was completely awake.

He had never had thoughts of this nature regarding Starsky before.  Never had thoughts about any man like that.  He assured himself that this was only a dream, and that it meant nothing, and he would be fine if he just let it go.  Refusing to think about the dream further, he finally settled down and returned to bed.

His best intentions proved useless however, when the dreams returned, night after night. 

Finally the inevitable came when both men were ordered to do a stakeout on an old abandoned factory on the outskirts of town.  The idea of sitting in a car all night with Starsky, the very scenario his dreams had been centered on, was rather disconcerting.  Laughing off his own discomfort, Hutch thought perhaps the stakeout would be a good thing, replacing his wild imaginings with pure old boring reality.

Sitting next to the object of his sexual desires from his dream state, and in the same environment, Hutch struggled to keep his thoughts on his work.  The whole scenario aroused and excited him, and he found himself struggling to repress it.  When Starsky suggested that Hutch take the first sleep shift, he jumped at the chance, exhausted from fighting his own demons all evening. 

But his sleep was not dreamless.  The dream returned, much as it did the first night, except that this time the car, the clothing, the circumstances of reality had all filtered into his sleep. 

"Feeling vulnerable, Starsky?"

His voice was barely more than a whisper.  "I trust you, Hutch."

Hutch wrapped his hand around Starsky's cock and began a slow stroke.  "Watch me Starsky."

Locking eyes on his partner, Starsky watched Hutch kiss the head of his penis.  He groaned, but maintained the eye contact.  He couldn't tear his eyes away now if he tried.

Hutch smiled, and swirled his tongue around the head.  He glided the cock into his mouth as Starsky watched.  He sucked and lowered his mouth down the shaft, writhing his tongue along the pulsing vein as he went down, stroking the flesh that was not in his mouth with his hand.  Starsky let out an almost primal moan.

"I'm gonna come," Starsky warned.

Hutch pulled back, releasing Starsky's cock.  "No you won't," Hutch smiled.  "I'm not finished with you yet.  Hang in there with me, partner."  Then he proceeded to lick Starsky's balls.  He sucked one into his mouth and laved it with his tongue.  He gave the other side the same painstakingly thorough treatment.  Reaching behind, he stroked Starsky's perineum teasingly with his finger.  Starsky's whole body was trembling.  "Not yet, pal.  I want to really make you feel good".  He chuckled "God, I love making you want this."  He ran his wet tongue slowly from Starsky's perineum, over his balls, and up his hard cock. "Trust me, Starsky..." As Starsky watched on, he again took him in his mouth, and lowered his head, taking Starsky right down his throat.

Starsky cried out in his ecstasy, "Hutch!"

Starsky woke Hutch, shaking his shoulder.  "Hutch!  You okay?"

Hutch snapped awake, only to find Starsky hovering over him, a worried look on his face.  Alarmed, he tried to back away, only to find himself trapped against the car door. 

"Hutch?  Relax, buddy!  It's me!  You were dreaming.  Musta been a doozy."

The familiar voice did anything but sooth Hutch, who was still trying to separate reality from fantasy.  "Starsky?"

"Hey, come back to the living, pal.  You were dreaming.  I think you had a nightmare.  You were callin' my name, asking me to trust ya."

"Oh Jesus," Hutch moaned, dropping his face into his hands.  He desperately wanted to flee this car, this man.  He climbed out of the car and tumbled away from the vehicle, followed closely behind by a very concerned partner.  Falling to his knees, Hutch sat on his heels.

"Hutch?"  Starsky called to him.  He reached out placed a calming hand on his friend's back.  Hutch jumped as if he had been burned.  Hutch threw up his arms, knocking Starsky's hands away.

"I'm all right!" he snapped.  "Gimme a minute, will ya?  Lemme get my bearings."

"Sure, Hutch, just settle down.  You were dreamin', okay?  I'll get ya some coffee."  He returned to the car to fetch the thermos he had brought.  "Sorry it ain't fresh, but it's still hot."  He handed Hutch the cup.

Hutch was still kneeling on the ground, feeling the chill of the night air.  He was shaking, but not from the cold, and grateful for the darkness that hid his aroused state, and the lust in his eyes.  The coffee helped to bring him back to reality, and back to the awkwardness of the situation.  The absurdity of it all, and his nervousness, combined to give him an ironic amusement at his circumstances.  He started to quietly laugh. 

Starsky had been worried for his friend, and felt immense relief to see him laugh.  "Ya with me now, pal?" he asked.  "For a minute I wasn't sure you knew who I was.  Ya looked like you're afraid to have me touch you."

Hutch tried to suppress the laughter that wanted to bubble forth.  He couldn't very well tell Starsky that he actually was afraid to have him touch him.  Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he smiled to his friend.  "No, it was just a dream.  I wasn't sure where I was.  Sorry."

"You gotta lay off the anchovy pizzas and ice cream before bed, Blintz.  It's givin' ya bad dreams."

"Starsky, that's not my dinner, that's yours," Hutch reminded him.

"Then maybe we should switch," he joked.  "You eat my pizza, and I'll eat your roots and seaweed."  He thought about it a moment.  "Hey, eatin' that rabbit food would probably give me nightmares, too."  He placed a hand on his belly for emphasis.

Hutch was feeling a bit of normalcy return, and rose to his feet.  They both headed back to the car.  "Starsk, why don't you get some shut eye.  We've still got a long night ahead of us."

"Sounds good to me," he grinned.  "Wake me at sunrise, will ya?"

Hutch had hoped that his friend would stretch out in the back seat; giving him a respite from the amorous feelings his partner was stirring in him.  Much to his chagrin, Starsky instead slid into the front passenger seat and stretched out, using Hutch's lap for a pillow.  At first he felt uncertain as to what to do with his hands, but finally relented and dropped his right arm down gently onto Starsky's chest.  Starsky twisted onto his side, perfectly content with Hutch's arm draped over him.  It took all of Hutch's restraint not to run his hand over his friend's body as he wanted to. 

Soon he could feel the soft rhythmic breathing of his partner, and marveled at the man's ability to fall asleep anywhere.  He found himself watching Starsky sleep, unaware of the passing time until the sunlight began to peek over the distant treetops.  He discovered he didn't want the moment to end, but rather wanted to savor this time, just watching and soaking up the sight of the man on his lap.  He ran a tentative hand through Starsky's curls, yet the man continued to sleep soundly.  Emboldened by his partner's deep sleep, Hutch began to caress Starsky's cheek with the back of his fingers.  After several strokes, a huge grin broke out across Starsky's face.  He turned a sleepy glance to Hutch, saying, "My ma used to wake me up like that."

Hutch smiled down at him, embarrassed to be caught, but relieved the man didn't think anything of it.  Starsky sat up and stretched, then began to root around for the thermos.  Hutch sighed.  He was glad he got through the stakeout with Starsky, and hoped the next few nights would be easier than this one.

The following night on stakeout, Hutch slept soundly without the recurring dream that had plagued him for the past week.  Starsky had decided to wake him in the same manner that Hutch had used the morning prior.  He used the back of his fingers to stroke Hutch's cheek.  It surprised and amused him when Hutch opened his sleepy eyes, smiled and turned into his face into Starsky's hand, placing a loving kiss in his palm, complete with a darting caress from his tongue.

"Whoa there, big guy," Starsky laughed.  "It's Starsky.  I take it it wasn't your mom who woke you up like that."

Hutch blushed when he realized what he had done.  "Sorry, Starsk.  Dreaming."  Starsky brushed off the gesture without a second thought. 

The next night Hutch dozed off first, Starsky keeping watch on the warehouse.  This time his dream took a different twist.

Hutch folded the newspaper he had been reading and turned to his partner.  "Dobey sounded like this stakeout wasn't going to be coming to an end any time soon."

"Well, there's no telling when the Cranston's will be returning to town.  I'm just surprised he's willing to put so much time into this.  We could be here for weeks, ya know?"

"Damn.  I hate this stakeout shit."

"Gee, Hutch.  Give a guy a complex.  You'll get me thinkin' you don't like spending time with me," Starsky grinned.

Hutch tossed the newspaper roughly to the floor in frustration.  "I'm sorry Starsk, but I just am not up to being cooped up all night in a car with you."

Starsky turned to Hutch with a lustful gaze and a big smile.  "What's the matter Hutch?  Don't you trust me?"

Hutch's eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright in the front seat.  He gripped the steering wheel, trying to calm his breathing.

"Hutch?"

Hutch finally looked to Starsky and found him staring at him with concern.  "Sorry.  Another dream."

Starsky reached over and squeezed Hutch's shoulder.  Hutch flinched, but did not shake off his touch.  "Hey," Starsky began in a soft voice.  "What's goin' on with you?"

Hutch sighed, but did not answer.

"I know something's bothering you," he continued.  His voice was soothing and gentle.  "You're all jumpy, havin' bad dreams, and ya act like it kills you to have me touch ya."

Hutch affectionately squeezed the hand that was still on his shoulder.  "Sorry."

"You gonna tell me what this is all about?"

"I've been having these dreams," he confessed.  "They're freaking me out and I don't know what to do about it."

"What kinda dreams?"

"Sex dreams."

Starsky grinned broadly.  "Now those are the kind of dreams to have!  What flavor?  Busty blonde?  Fiery redhead?"

Hutch chuckled.  "No, more like a hot brunet with a great ass," he replied ruefully.

"So what's the problem?"

"Um, I know the person in the dreams."  Hutch glanced out the window, wondering if he should be telling him this.

"Anyone I know?"  Starsky was enjoying this.  His mind was cataloguing all the brunettes at Parker Center.

"Yeah," Hutch answered.  He met Starsky's eyes with his own soulful ones.  "You."

Stunned, Starsky's eyes grew wide.  "Me?" 

"You."

"Oh," was all he could manage.  His thoughts were racing.

Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, Hutch got out of the car.  He started walking, and with no real purpose other than to get away, he walked toward the warehouse.

Starsky came running up behind him.  "Hutch, wait."

Hutch stopped and turned around.  The harrowed expression on his face touched Starsky.  He clasped Hutch's arms, ignoring the alarm his touch inspired.  "Don't shut me out here."

"Starsk, I can't talk to you about this.  I'm not trying to shut you out, but I'm not going to get into this in depth with you either."

"Why can't you talk to me?"

"Because it's about you.  Look Starsk, these dreams are affecting me, affecting the way I feel, and the way I look at things.  I'm changing.  My feelings for you are changing."

Starsky let go of Hutch's arms.  He was clearly worried.  "Changing how?"

Saddened, Hutch replied, "I'm attracted to you, Starsky.  Sexually attracted to you."

Shrugging, Starsky stated, "So we'll deal with it.  We'll work this out, Hutch."

"That's just it.  I'm not dealing with it.  I can't change the way I feel, or stop these dreams.  I feel like I have no control.  I don't know how to work this out."

Hutch's pleading eyes tugged at his heart.  "How can I help?"

"You can't!"  Hutch softened at the disheartened look on Starsky's face.  "Hey, I'm going to make an appointment with Doc Schroeder.  If she has any suggestions, I'll let you know."

"The department shrink?!"  Starsky shook his head.  "Hell, you must be desperate."  He wrapped his arm around Hutch and guided him back toward the car.  "I'm glad you're doing this if you think it'll help."

"I'll give it a try and see how it goes."  He wrapped his arm around Starsky's shoulders.  "Thanks for not giving me a hard time about this."

Starsky grinned.  "Actually, it's kinda flattering."

"Flattering?"

"Well sure!  My all-American macho partner has the hots for me.  I must have a hell of a lot of sex appeal to turn a straight guy's head."

Hutch laughed.  "It's nice to know my sexual crisis is somehow a big ego boost for you.  But how do you know it's not your feminine side that appeals to me, huh Starsk?"

Starsky's face fell.  "Feminine side?"

~*~

Dr Schroeder was young and lovely, with long blonde hair French-braided down her back.  Her elegant and shapely legs made even her classic navy business suit look sexy.  She slid her glasses back up her nose and looked at the handsome blonde detective before her.  "Ken, it's good that you came in today.  I know you are frustrated, but I think we can find some answers for you.  Dreams often reveal your subconscious mind, showing your true feelings.  Analyzing them can help you solve your problems and make decisions."

"You think the dreams are showing my true feelings for Starsky?"

"We would have to explore the feelings you have for your partner.  It's possible the dream could be pretty straightforward and literal.  It is also possible that it could be symbolic, say for example of a power struggle between you two.  In either case, you haven't been helping yourself by desperately trying to forget the dreams because of their unapproved contents.  They are a message to you."

"So where do we go from here?"

"First step would be to acknowledge your dread.  It is a valid truth for you that you need to explore.  It doesn't mean that you're definitely headed toward that particular sexual behavior.  Think of it as a wake up call for you to look at these issues and really define them for yourself.  Some homosexual dreams, for both heterosexuals and homosexuals, have their roots in fears of emotionally loving and being physically affectionate with members of one's own sex."

"I've never had fears of being emotionally or physically affectionate with Starsky."

Perhaps not consciously.  But you also said you were raised in a rather strict and puritanical home.  This can affect the way you perceive your sexuality now, act as a framework for the views you hold today."

"I am not homophobic.  Sexuality strikes me as polymorphous, complex, and not at all concerned with classifications and fixed categories, much less our prejudices."

"Yet your dreams disturb you."

"Yes!  On many levels.  Not the least of which is how I forced the act in the first place."

"You say forced.  Yet you also stopped at several points and asked him if he still trusted you.  Also, when he asked how far you would take it, you stated that you would go 'until he stopped you', indicating that he had the ability to do so.  I don't recall at any time you telling me that he tried to stop you and you didn't stop.  I'm not clear where the force is in this."

"I backed him into a corner.  I was aggressive; challenged him.  It was akin to playing chicken."

"I see.  And challenges of this nature are not common to your relationship."

Hutch laughed.  "No, I wouldn't say that.  In fact, we are rather competitive."  He stopped and thought for a moment, giving her and understanding smile.  "I see your point."

"What else disturbs you about these dreams?"

"That it was Starsky."

"And why does this disturb you?"

Hutch looked away, staring at something unimportant off in the distance.  He returned his gaze, speaking softly, "Because I never realized before then how much I wanted him."

"Tell me about your partner, Ken."

~*~

Starsky watched as his partner tended his plants.  He seemed more at peace lately, not nearly as jumpy or troubled as he had before.  He had been dubious that Schroeder would be of any real help to his friend, holding great skepticism in her profession, but he had to admit, Hutch seemed to be coping much better, though he had never broached the topic with him since he started sessions with her nearly two weeks previously.  "How're things goin' with Schroeder, Hutch?  She helpin' you any?"

Hutch smiled at his friend.  He knew Starsky's dislike of psychiatrists, and thought he showed great restraint in muffling his disapproval as Hutch sought her aid.  "Yeah, she's helping.  I do feel better about things.  I still have those dreams quite often, but they don't upset me like they did initially."

Starsky crinkled his nose.  "Still havin' the dreams?  I woulda thought she'd 'ave takin' care of that for ya."

Hutch shrugged.  "I suppose they'll always be a part of me, as long as I'm not following through on my feelings for you."  He put down the now empty watering can and went to sit beside Starsky on the couch. 

Recalling Hutch's words that day as he told him that his feelings for him were changing, Starsky looked to Hutch apprehensively.  "How do you feel about me now, Hutch?"

Hutch studied Starsky's face.  He saw the anxious expression, and accepted that Starsky would not welcome the truth.  He steeled himself to that fact, and admitted the truth to him anyway.  With a gentled voice and tender expression he admitted, "I'm in love with you, Starsky."

All along Starsky had feared that this sexual attraction would turn Hutch away from him, and he would lose his best friend and partner.  Hearing that Hutch loved him, in any form thrilled him.  He grabbed the man and yanked him into a tight bear hug. 

Surprised at his friend's positive response, Hutch relaxed into the embrace.  It relieved him to know that Starsky was compassionate about his feelings, and was not running in the face of them.  The two men clung together tightly for a moment, and Hutch was the first to pull back.

As soon as Hutch pulled away, Starsky cupped his face in his hands and covered his lips with his own.  He lovingly kissed his astonished partner. 

Hutch had been unresponsive at the start, but soon flung himself fully into the kiss, completely submerging himself in all the love and adoration he held for this man.  He held nothing back, owning this moment, expressing the passion and devotion that defined his love. 

When at last the kiss ended, Starsky softly said, "Thank you."  Then he looked upon Hutch's blissful face, and lit up in a huge smile.  "Ya know, you look beautiful when you're all sappy like that."

Hutch pulled back but could not yet bring himself to let go.  "Starsky, you kissed me!"

"Of course I kissed you!" Starsky laughed.  "You just told me you're in love with me.  Ya think I wouldn't wanna kiss you after hearing somethin' like that?"  He caressed Hutch's face.  "It's okay I did that, isn't it?"

Hutch smiled.  "Yeah Starsk.  Don't go getting inhibited on me now.  I wouldn't know you."  Suddenly a realization struck him and he spoke of it out loud.  "You never kiss me in the dreams."

"I don't?"  He gave a puzzled look.  "Why not?"

"You aren't exactly a willing participant," Hutch said carefully.

"Tell me about the dreams, Hutch."

Hutch stood and distanced himself.  His back was to his friend.  "I can't do that, Starsky.  You really don't want to hear about this."

"You don't have much faith in me here, do ya Blintz?"  He shook his head.  "Ya know, I know you better than anybody.  Maybe I could help."  He walked up to Hutch and placed a hand on his shoulder to turn him around and face him.  "Hutch, please trust me."

His words had an obvious and significant impact on Hutch, who lowered himself into a chair and ran a hand down his face.  "Sit down, Starsky.  I'll tell you everything."  With a wave of his hand he gestured to Starsky to take his previous seat on the couch.  He sat in a chair where he could tell the details without looking directly into Starsky's face. 

Hutch's recount of the dreams was excruciatingly detailed.  By the time he was done, Starsky was shifting in his seat, clearly affected by the graphic sexual encounter Hutch described.  After Hutch had finished, Starsky let out a long breath.  "Wow, Hutch.  I not only never kissed you, but I never even touched you.  But I guess this isn't just about sex, though, is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's really about trust.  Will I trust you to touch me, to please me...  Will I trust you to enough to take this step with you."

Hutch stared at Starsky.  His simple statement had targeted right to the heart of the dream, an answer that had been elusive to the trained psychologist he had been working with, and to himself. 

Starsky walked up to where Hutch was seated, and knelt at his feet.  "Honest, Hutch.  I do trust you.  If you want to go down this road, I'll go with you.  Just give me some time, okay?  This isn't where I expected my life to go, ya know?  If we can take it slow, I can handle this.  I love ya, Hutch."

Hutch's voice came out raspy.  "Starsk, you aren't attracted to me.  I'm not going to push you into..."

"Hutch, when you were telling me what you did to me in those dreams, it excited me.  And not just the sex.  It excited me 'cause it was you.  You know, the only thing we haven't been to each other is sex partners, and I can see that with you.   Especially after you described it so well."  Hutch laughed at his words.

"I gotta tell ya, though," Starsky said with a grin, "that's not how I picture our first time together.  I want it to be more fair, you know?  Shared.  That okay with you?"

"Ah Starsk.  I love you."  He pulled Starsky into a kiss, enfolding the man in his arms. 

"Love you too," Starsky smiled.

The end