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Part 4

Charlotte Frost


Starsky waited while Hutch inserted the key and turned the lock. They both grinned at the satisfying noise of the lock pulling back. Hutch turned the handle and they entered.

They'd come straight over after the closing, for which they'd dressed formally. The house was now theirs. Starsky still felt a bit overwhelmed at owing some $250,000 plus interest over the next thirty years, but he had to admit that he loved the house. They both did. It was in the high end of a middle class neighborhood. A sprawling 2200 square foot ranch layout with four bedrooms. The roomy kitchen had a dishwasher and a microwave oven built right in. There was a separate laundry room. The master bedroom had a large walk-in closet and its own connecting bath. They didn't even know what they were going to use the other bedrooms for.

Added to that was a fireplace in the living room, and small pool out back and covered patio. From the front, the house didn't look all that big. But once inside, it was larger than any place Starsky could have ever imagined buying in his life.

Hutch's arm came around him as they stood in the living room, looking out at all the empty space. At least the carpet was fairly new. They were going to spend a lot of money furnishing the house, but at least they had agreed that they would only worry about the bare essentials initially. Though Starsky still hadn't figured out what he wanted to do with the Torino, purchasing new cars was next on the agenda. He could hardly wait.

They needed a new wardrobe. Hutch had emphasized the importance of dressing well for the clientele they hoped to attract. They had named their firm Starsky and Hutchinson, Incorporated. They would have liked to have simply called themselves Starsky and Hutch, but since it was necessary to put the "Inc.", at the end, it sounded better with Hutch's full name. Emerson had stressed the necessity of incorporating, as there were tax advantages, and their personal assets would be protected in case of a lawsuit. They'd flipped a coin, and Starsky was amused that he now carried the title of "President". He'd never in his life expected to be president of anything. Hutch was Vice President and Treasurer. They'd made Emerson the Secretary, but it was only for paperwork purposes. Emerson would have no say in their company, except when specifically asked for advice.

That advice was becoming more and more comprehensible to Starsky. He and Hutch had enrolled in a personal finance class at UCLA. Starsky had discovered that his desire to learn wasn't restricted to things financial. He wasn't sure if it was his brushes with death in past years, the abduction, the fact that simple survival was no longer a daily issue; or merely finding how much enjoyment he got out of his current class. But now all subjects fascinated him. He felt an intense desire to know all about everything from world history and different customs of various cultures, to how mechanical things worked, to understanding the process of hypnosis and related sciences. Whenever he looked at the UCLA catalog, he wanted to sample nearly every class available.

"Now the real work starts," Hutch noted.

Yes. It would be two months before the new yellow pages directory was printed with their ad. In the meantime, they intended to contact the human resources divisions of large companies and offer their services for doing background checks. They also intended to contact law firms and hoped to be hired for gathering evidence. Of course, they also hoped Dobey could push a few things their way.

"Yeah," Starsky said, hugging Hutch back. "We'll make it, partner. We'll make everything work." Then, mischievously, "But before the real work begins...," he started toward the master bedroom, his arm still wrapped around his partner's waist.

They'd already picked out a king-sized water bed, which was scheduled to be delivered tomorrow. But now the room was completely bare, except for the blush-red carpet that ran throughout the house. They were in the center of the bedroom, and Starsky turned to his partner and kissed him. Enticingly, he muttered, "We need to make this house officially ours. Right now." He kissed harder.

Hutch's arms were around him and he was kissing back, eagerly. "We don't have anything," he gasped.

Starsky hugged him closer, brushing their erections together, working on his pale-skinned throat. "Guess we'll just have to use spit." In fact, he liked that idea, though he'd have to make sure he was extra careful when he entered Hutch. He'd already decided that's how it was going to happen, and he kissed more aggressively, wanting to leave no doubt as to who was going to be on top. He was President after all, he silently snickered to himself.

Hutch got the message and dropped to his knees. He unzipped the fly of Starsky dress pants. He obviously intended to make him extra hard, since they could only count on spit to assist with penetration.

Starsky spread his legs as Hutch took his length from his fly. He looked down at that blond head working him, and felt the same sense of wonder that always came over him whenever he watched Hutch pleasure him. It was so amazing that someone like Hutch would be so in love with someone like him. Not that he wasn't worthy of it; but just that, with his all-American good looks, Hutch could have just about anyone he wanted.

And he wanted Starsky.

Starsky dropped to his knees, gently pushing Hutch away, then he kissing him. "Wanna fool around a while first," he mumbled through a mouthful of chin, his hands starting on the buttons of Hutch's shirt.

They lay down on the carpet together, hands feeling, mouths searching.

Starsky was facing the east window which, like the other windows, didn't have curtains. While kissing his beloved, he looked up at the bright blue sky broken by an occasional cloud. Out there, somewhere, were other beings. Other living creatures. Because of his contact with them, Starsky now felt that he, truly, knew no fear. He and Hutch had faced a terrifying experience, and they'd come through it alive and even healthier than before the abduction.

The only thing that could hurt him now, he acknowledged as he closed his eyes to give the pleasuring of Hutch his full attention, was if any harm ever came to this most special of human beings.

He would never let that happen. Starsky wondered if, some day, he'd ever have a chance to return the courageous way Hutch had saved his life. Some part of him hoped he never had a chance to find out; yet, if such a chance occurred, he would face it without fear. And save Hutch.

"Hey," Hutch whispered, having pulled back. "What are you thinking about so hard?"

Starsky blinked. He was hovering over Hutch, his hand rubbing at the pleasant smoothness of his lover's chest, exposed by a few open buttons. He looked into those deep blue eyes. "About how much I love you. How very, very much I love you."

Hutch tugged impatiently at his shirt. "Then stop thinking about it and show me instead."

Starsky grinned widely, then lowered himself on top of Hutch. And obliged.

The End