The first time ever I saw your face I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were gifts you gave to the dark and the endless skies

Kenneth Hutchinson had been rebelling against his family for the past ten years.
It started when he was nineteen and announced that he had no intention of following in his father’s footsteps and becoming a lawyer. He’d gone to college and endured the first year of pre-law studies but enough was enough. He switched to sociology and politics and then after another six months he dropped out. He traveled around the country taking any job that might keep him going and toting his guitar to every bar and folk club where a singer could try his luck.
He made one futile stab at reconciliation by marrying a suitable young woman. But Van had turned out to be a money-grabbing bitch who nagged at him because he wasn’t keeping her in the style to which daddy’s money had accustomed her. He’d married her because they were good in bed; and because she said she was pregnant. She wasn’t. Her nagging and bitching sent him to new bars where he looked for the solace at the bottom of a glass and not for his big break in the world of music. They both had sex with other partners; that was part of the problem. The day Van came home and found that Ken was in bed with her ex-lover things got out of hand. They fought and after it got more physical that Ken had ever imagined it could, he walked out. When he finally returned home his stuff was neatly stacked outside the door and his key no longer fitted the lock.
He found somewhere to live (his parents couldn’t take away the income from his grandfather’s trust fund) and let her know where her lawyer could find him.
It took him a few weeks of brooding and boozing to pull himself together and take stock of what he wanted out of life. Then one day it came to him: he applied for entry to the Bay City PD Police Academy; and he was accepted.

It wasn’t easy. The other recruits all seemed to be tough kids from the city. With his polite ways and clean-cut blond Midwestern looks he stood out a mile among the –ellis and -steins and O’whatevers around him. He was better educated than most of them too – but not necessarily more intelligent of course. He had no difficulty with the coursework but the physical training and the social life were not coming easy.
It didn’t help that he was one of only a handful of recruits who weren’t living on campus. Two guys were married and one other had a place of his own. As for the physical stuff, he thought he was fit; he’d played baseball and done a little track and wrestling at school, but either the last few years had taken their toll or he had never been in the same league as the others.

********************************

They were in the locker room now after their first encounter with the assault course. Most of the others had finished it with no difficulty – even the quiet guy with the slight limp had done OK; more than OK, he’d finished a close second! Some of the others were bantering Kenneth about his failure to get over the wall. Most of the other guys had nicknames or were addressed by their family names, but only he got the full first of his given name. “Oh Kenneth….” Someone would call in a high pitched voice.

He caught sight of the dark-haired man with the intriguing limp. He was one of the others who didn’t live on campus and he seemed to keep himself apart from the other recruits; Ken had heard that he was a Veteran. He was standing naked with one foot up on the bench and toweling his leg. Ken couldn’t take his eyes off him. He was lean and muscular and as he toweled himself his intercostals rippled. Ken let his eyes follow the dark line that led from the other man’s hairy chest down to the thick mass of curls that gave a tantalizing glimpse of his balls. He was what the jocks at Ken’s school had described as ‘well-hung’; his balls were slightly ovoid and covered with a dark fuzz and; his cock veered slightly to the left and Ken had a fleeting flashing memory of the way it showed through the outrageously tight jeans that the guy wore sometimes. Ken noted that he was circumcised and he found that even more attractive.
He could feel his reaction under his towel and turned away hoping that no-one else would notice.

The others were almost all dressed and leaving. One of them, a tall good-looking man with thick blond hair that flopped over his face, called over to the object of Ken’s attentions. “See you in the usual place Dave.” The dark-haired man grinned and nodded then stood up and slung the towel over his shoulder. He padded past Ken on his way to his locker. He didn’t seem to even notice Ken’s presence. Ken slipped into a vacant shower stall and let the towel drop. From where he was standing he could see the other man dressing; a reverse strip-tease that sent his hormones racing to his crotch. He leaned against the wall and started to slowly rub his cock and massage his own balls. The other man pulled a T-shirt over his head and again Ken saw the abdominal muscles tight as an old-fashioned wash-board. The T-shirt was white and it contrasted harshly against the dark hairs on his chest and the sun-tanned skin.
Ken’s hand quickened its pace as he watched the show.
Now his object of lust was pulling on his jeans. He had to wriggle his hips slightly to pull them over his hips and as he fastened the zipper and the thick brown leather belt that certainly wasn’t needed to hold them up, Ken noticed the clear outline of that beautiful cock nestling against the top of his left thigh.
Ken grabbed hold of the shower fitting and steadied himself as his masturbation came to a knee-trembling climax. His sperm hit the wall of the shower stall in with a splat that he was sure echoed around the locker room. If the other man heard him groan he didn’t react. He was pulling his jacket over his shoulders. As he watched the other man walk out of the locker room, Ken reached for the faucet and took a second shower. While he washed himself again he tried to remember the other man’s name. John Colby had called him Dave.
Ken came out of the shower and dressed quickly before running up to the cafeteria in the vain hope of seeing Dave again. He was disappointed. Some of the recruits were eating in a group at one of the tables but neither Dave nor Colby were anywhere to be seen. He shrugged his shoulders and decided to go home and study for the test coming up at the end of the week.

************************************

He couldn’t get that glorious cock out of his mind. He tossed and turned and finally threw himself face down and wrapped his arms around the pillow. He imagined nuzzling his face into the thick wavy hair as he pushed his pelvis hard into the mattress. Suddenly he understood how well he had observed the other recruit in the locker room. He has deep blue eyes that scare me. He was too far gone now; his cock was throbbing and screaming for more friction, a semblance of what it would be like with him. He slipped his right hand down under his hips and milked himself until he came with a scream that he muffled with the pillow.
He felt hot tears welling up as he thought about the impossibility of his dreams. Dave was tough; one of the toughest. He was a veteran and rumor had it that he had been a ‘street soldier’ before he was called up – and maybe after he came home. He was said to have connections that were not entirely in keeping with his chosen profession. It was also said that the department had turned a blind eye to that on the recommendation of one of its most respected officers. Ken was sure that a man like that wouldn’t tolerate the slightest advance. He’d probably punch me out and leave the others to finish me off.
He rolled over to his back and stared at the ceiling. Sunlight was already coming through the gap between the drapes at his window. He dragged himself out of bed and staggered to the bathroom; as he sat up he noticed another tell-tale stain on the bottom sheet. He’d dreamed more than once that night.

************************************************

Over the next few days he found himself thinking about Dave Starsky all the time. He watched him as he went about his training. Starsky was the best shot in the group and although he gave the impression that he wasn’t too strong at the academic part of the course he consistently got just-above average marks. He seemed to understand the law instinctively.
They were out on the assault course again. Ken managed to keep up with the last group but each obstacle put him further back down the formation. He was dreading the wall. He glanced up ahead and saw it towering above the first group of men to reach it. Dave was there with them. Ken watched secretly hoping to get a glimpse of tanned flesh as Dave reached for the top and jumped. He stopped in his tracks as Dave fell to the ground and rolled to one side, apparently in pain. The sergeant came running over, he seemed concerned and was talking to the man still lying on the ground hugging his thigh to his chest and muttering something under his breath. The sergeant held out a hand and Dave stood up carefully before testing putting some weight on the leg. He nodded to the sergeant and stepped to one side.
Oh god if only I could kiss it better

“Hutchinson, get your sorry ass over here and over this goddam wall!” The sergeant yelled. Someone sniggered and he was aware of the other men running past him and on towards the wall.
By the time he got there, the sergeant had gone but Dave was still leaning against the wall rubbing his thigh ruefully. The others cleared the wall and Ken took his second jump.

“You can make it if you really want to.” The voice was low and Ken recognized the strangely flat Brooklyn accent.
“I guess I have to if I want to graduate.”
The other man grinned. “Teamwork is important too.” He made a stirrup with his hands and winked.
As Ken scrambled over the top of the wall he felt rather than saw Dave arrive at the top and vault himself down to the other side. Ken looked down and groaned; he closed his eyes and jumped.

The sergeant arrived in the locker room. “Hutchinson, come over here.”
Ken zipped his pants and walked over to the door.
“Ok smart ass let me tell you this once and once only. You get over the wall on your own or you stay on the other side until you can! And one day, Hutchinson, you’ll be at the end of an alley with a gun behind you and the only way out will be over an eight foot wall. Think about it!”
Ken nodded with embarrassment and turned to finish dressing; some of the others were laughing but not Dave. “He should find himself at the end of an alley sometime.” He said quietly.
“And Starsky!”
“Yes sir?”
“Don’t ever let me see you do a thing like that again!”
“Yes, sir!” This time there was a beat before the second word. Dave winked at Hutch again and flashed a lopsided grin that set fire to the blond’s groin before skipping up the steps out of the locker room.

That night Ken dreamed of strong arms lifting him. There was a wall. The strong arms pushed him and slammed him against the wall. He felt the other man push up against him and hands were pulling at his sweat pants. He felt his cock hardening, constricted by the wall. He tried to pull away but the other man was too strong for him. He waited to be entered; dreamed of it, prayed for it. His cock was throbbing and his balls felt as if they were going to explode. He pushed hard against the wall, bracing himself. He came into the rumpled sheet and woke sweating.
He groaned and turned over to try to sleep again.

**************************************************

The assault course again! Ken was beginning to think that it was a torture specifically designed to prevent him from becoming a cop. He was beginning to master most of the obstacles but the final wall loomed above him and seemed to get higher every time. This time Dave was over it without mishap except for the brief moment when his sweatpants snagged on the wall and Ken got a tantalizing glimpse of a tan line and the deep crack between his buttocks.

In the locker room Ken got a better view of Dave’s butt. It was rounded and muscular and Ken had to sit on his hands as Dave walked past him.
This has got to stop.
But it didn’t stop. Night after night Ken’s dreams were dominated by Dave Starsky. He woke sweaty and sticky every morning.
If only I could get to know him better.

*******************************************

The cafeteria was the usual noisy mix of clattering dishes and men’s voices. Ken picked up a salad and yoghurt and looked around for somewhere to sit. He didn’t sit with the rest of the group – they never included him in their conversation anyway. Dave Starsky was sitting alone and looking subdued. Ken made his way over to the table.
“You mind if I sit here?”
He was rewarded by a steady stare; two of the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen in his life seemed to be staring right through him to the wall behind.
“What the hell are you eating?”
“Salad, yoghurt – it’s good for you.”
Starsky pointed to the ruins of a burger on his plate. “Burger and fries…energy; we hit the assault course again this afternoon.”
Ken grimaced. Starsky left before he could say anything else

.

***************************

He didn’t make it over the wall the first time but he did finally manage to scramble up and allow himself to drop down. That was almost as bad as getting up there; Ken was scared of heights.

“Don’t be such a baby, Kenneth. Get up to the board and dive.”
His father was standing by the poolside at the Country Club and shouting and his trembling nine year old.
“The top board Kenneth! Get up their boy or do you want me to come after you?”
He climbed the steps, not daring to look down. He walked out onto the diving platform and looked down. He couldn’t do it. He turned and slowly made his way down the ladder – backwards – not daring to look at the ground below.
When he got home his father beat him. “Don’t you ever defy me in public again!”

******************************************

The first time ever I kissed your mouth, I felt the earth move in my hands
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird that was then at my command.

They graduated and Dave surprised everyone – especially himself – by coming joint second with Colby. Ken had finally mastered the assault course and he came in top of the class.
He was watching Dave talk to two older women. Dave looked amazing in his dress uniform and Ken was battling his hormones as he stood alone; the only recruit who didn’t have family at the ceremony. One of the women was weeping and she kissed Dave in a way that only a mother can. As the three of them walked away Ken decided that the other woman must be Dave’s aunt – they all had the same mouth.

And what a mouth! Even at rest an amused smile seemed to play on the sensually curved lips. Dave had a mouth that was handsome on a man – Ken acknowledged that it was pretty on the two women. His upper lip was well-defined - a real cupid’s bow; and the lower lip was just full enough to be sensual. Dave could communicate without saying a word – and when he was annoyed his mouth set in a hard straight line that signaled an almost feral danger.
Hutch dreamed of taking that lower lip between his….
He dreamed of it every night even when he was with a new lover. He was playing the field now; men or women – whichever. But all of them were just a substitute for what he really wanted;
He had to keep his bisexuality well hidden at work. There wasn’t as much tolerance in Bay City as there was in the Bay Area further north. Cops were no different from anyone else.

They were assigned to different precincts.
Once or twice they both arrived at the same call; Ken had been assigned to Bob Carter, an old-fashioned by-the-book cop who made him go through all the hoops. Dave was riding with Fred Wilson from the metro headquarters at Parker Center. It seemed to Ken that the two men already knew each other. One day Ken and his partner took a call to a reported stolen car. Dave Starsky’s flat voice echoed Ken’s “we’re on our way.” Ken and his partner caught sight of the stolen car and Carter hit the siren and gunned the engine of their black and white. Before they could get closer another black and white streaked past them and ran up an alley to the right.
Carter shook his head. “Where in the hell does that young fool….” He didn’t finish. Suddenly the stolen car was coming towards them and the other patrol car was in hot pursuit. Carter grabbed the mike. “Hey Fred; was that you I just saw?”
Laughter echoed from the radio then Fred said “this kid should be driving in the Indy!”

Later that day the pursuit was the talk of all the cops who gathered in a popular bar in the town. Bob had dragged Ken along with him. “You spend too much time alone, kid. You have to get to know your fellow officers a bit better.”
There’s only one I want to get to know better and I don’t think he’d return the compliment.
Fred was already at a table surrounded by cops that Ken recognized from his precinct and a couple of others. The subject of the conversation wasn’t there. Fred was regaling them with a commentary of the chase.
“When the call came in the kid grinned and told me to hit the lights. He gunned the engine like that old b and w ain’t never been gunned before. Hey they ain’t performance cars but this kid could make a Model T fly. We spotted the car up ahead and he went after it; slowed off a little and then hit the gas again; he was grinding his lips and totally concentrated. The other guy pushed up the speed and young Dave was right there behind him. Man I can tell you I nearly reached for the safety strap!” That got a laugh, despite all the law-enforcement and safety ads, few cops strapped in when out on patrol – they had to get out of the car quickly.
“The stolen car was a Corvette. Didn’t bother Dave any that we were in an old Ford. I saw the car take a left up ahead and Dave muttered something about ‘heading ‘em off at the pass’ and off we went. He took the next left. Jeez, it was an alley about one inch to spare either side of the car. I glanced at the speedo – the kid was doing 55 and not flinching. I asked him what the hell, and he just said ‘trust me.’. We got to the end of the alley and there’s a tight right turn, kid didn’t even scrape the fenders – and I swear he didn’t brake either. So now we’re in another alley and the Corvette is coming towards us. Remember what Jack Kennedy said about the missiles. ‘The other guy blinked’? Well I’m tellin’ you guys, the other guy must have done more than blink. The kid didn’t even ease off the gas. The Corvette slowed right down then hit reverse. That’s when Joe and Wally came up behind him. Boy that kid’s something; a real hot rod!”

A hot rod.
Ken’s mind went flying off on its own track. He sipped his beer carefully, fighting to keep control of his thoughts and his body.
“You Ok, kid?” Bob asked him.
“Yes. I was just amazed at the story. I could never drive like that.”
“I heard the kid learned his tricks before he was really old enough to have a license.” Fred continued. “You all know who brought him up don’t you?”
A few cops nodded but most shook their heads. “He’s really from New York, his dad was a cop out there but took a final bullet when the kid was thirteen. They say he saw it. Don’t know why but his mom sent him out to her sister…and her sister is married to Al Kauffman.”
A few cops looked up at that name. Ken was totally in the dark.
“Kauffman the used car dealer over near West Hollywood?” one of them asked.
“Yes. The kid grew up knowing a lot of people. But he also had John Blaine as a mentor. So I guess that’s how come they took him onto the force. Not exactly the track record the Academy usually requires.”
Another cop nodded in agreement. “Sometimes it takes a thief to catch a thief; the kid’s obviously clean but his connections will either come in handy or kill him one of these days.”
Ken swallowed hard. The knowledge that Dave Starsky came from a shady background excited him even more. He had a taste for what he’d heard called ‘rough trade’; men from a background less advantaged than his own. The possibility of danger made Dave even more enticing.
Another cop chipped in. “I heard he had a tough time in ‘Nam too. Any of you notice the way he walks?” A couple of them chuckled. Ken closed his eyes. “I have to go to the restroom” he whispered to the cop blocking his exit from the booth. He shut himself into one of the stalls and leaned against the wall;

Yes he had noticed the way Starsky walked. A slightly bowlegged strutting limp that seemed to exaggerate the load he carried visibly inside his tight jeans….his hot rod.
Inside his uniform pants his already stiff and throbbing cock was fighting his underwear. He didn’t want any tell-tale stains so he undid the belt and dropped it on the floor. Thinking that anyone coming in might see it, he picked it up and draped it over the pipe leading from the water tank above the toilet. He unzipped his uniform pants and sat on the toilet seat. He took his penis in his hand and started the rubbing and slapping motions that he knew would bring him quickly; all the time he was thinking of that ‘hot rod’ that he’d seen all those weeks ago in the Academy locker room and with which he was still totally obsessed.
Someone came into the men’s room and Ken hesitated….giving himself the sweet torture of holding it back until the coast was clear. He heard the other man relieve himself and then the door closed. Ken finished his masturbation and wiped himself carefully with toilet paper. He dressed and returned to the bar. Most of the others had left. Bob was waiting for him.
“You OK?”
“Yes, I guess I ate something that didn’t agree with me.”
“Go home and rest – you look kind of flushed, maybe you have a fever.”
Ken made his way out of the bar and went out to his car. The only fever he had was a desire for that ‘hot rod.

***************************************

Ken’s apprenticeship followed it s boring course. He learned the basic skills of what he had chosen to be his profession. But he had hoped for something more exciting than a beat near one of the best neighborhoods in the city where as Bob said, the biggest excitement was putting a ticket on a star’s car parked by a hydrant.

It was less than a year later that the department buzzed with the news that a big bust was going down. Rumor said that at least four of the local capos would fall. Ken watched and listened with interest; but his attention was being diverted by his divorce that had reached the final stages – and Van was still trying to take him for everything he had. For once his father took his side and signed an affidavit confirming that Ken had a private income from his grandfather’s estate and that provision had been made in the will to prevent any wife from benefiting from it in the event of a divorce, “not even if there are kids involved” – the old man had been determined that it go to his grandson and no-one else. Ken wasn’t even on duty the day the bust went down.
When he came in the next day Bob greeted him with a question. “Weren’t you in the same group at the Academy with that kid who drives like a stuntman?”
“Yes why?” Ken’s heart skipped a beat. Oh god, don’t say he was killed!
“Seems that the bust went down because if information he had….the chief just announced that he’s made detective as of next week.”
Ken’s heart slowed down and he sighed. He dreamed of being a detective. He was already studying for the exams although he wouldn’t be eligible for another few months. And that brash uneducated…he stopped his thoughts and smiled. “Wow, I’ll bet that doesn’t happen very often.”
“No, only in exceptional cases; the kid must be as good a cop as he is a driver. Either that or his uncle’s buddies owed him one.”
Ken didn’t try to find out what that was meant to imply; he simply nodded and started to check through the list in the glove compartment.

The bar was rowdy by the time Ken walked in. He was dressed in tan slacks and a tan leather sport jacket; his shirt was open at the neck and the print was tan plaid. He strolled across to the bar and ordered a scotch on the rocks.
He was on the second glass when a young man sat on the stool next to him.
Ken looked at him carefully. He was slightly shorter than Ken (who stood at six one) and he had dark curly hair….For a moment his heart skipped a beat. Could it be that the object of his fantasies and increasing desires was a regular in this bar? The other man turned to watch the couples swaying on the dance floor and Ken lost interest when he saw that it wasn’t Dave.
He decided that he didn’t really need another drink anyway and went home.

He spent the night dreaming again.
This time he was the prey. He was running from the cop in the alley and he wasn’t trying too hard to get away. The other man caught up with him and pushed him roughly over a nearby trashcan. He yanked Ken’s arms behind his back and cuffed him.
Dreams leap quickly from one unconnected scene to another and Ken’s was no exception. Now he was naked and cuffed. The arresting officer was pushing him over the side of a couch. He pushed his face down hard into a pillow and felt the strong hands as they grabbed his balls from behind. The hands began to stroke and massage him but the other man was silent. Soon one hand was on his cock; stroking and milking it and bringing it to its full engorged length. He waited with bated breath for the release – but this was torture and he was a willing victim. The other man knew just when to stop and let him down before starting the movements again. He felt fingers ease his buttocks apart and the cold contact of a lubricating gel. The fingers began to explore while the other hand continued to bring him close to his climax. Suddenly the finger was replaced by something hotter and stronger. He was being penetrated like he’d never felt it before. The entry was firm but gentle and he felt his anus expand in welcome. The hand on his cock stopped its work and his wonderful tormentor was holding him by the hips; drawing him back to remount the cock that was pushing its way to its final goal. Ken came as the other man’s cock found his prostate through the anal wall. He screamed into the pillow. He waited for the spurt of cum in his ass. Nothing. Ken opened his eyes and remembered that he was alone and in bed.

**************************************

The exam was tougher than he expected to be but at least he didn’t have to prove himself against that wall. The results were posted a week later and Ken was now Detective second class Kenneth Hutchinson. He looked at the precinct that he’d been assigned to; Parker Center, temporary home of the newly created Metro division. He noted that he was expected to be there the following Monday at eight am.

Monday morning found Ken standing in front of his closet wondering what to wear. He settled on the tan pants and a shirt under his tan jacket. He checked himself in the mirror and decided he looked just right; neat but casual. He ran his fingers through his hair and went out to his car.
He parked in the parking lot in front of the Parker Center building and walked in. The desk sergeant stopped him.
“Where do you think you’re going young man?”
“My name’s Hutchinson. I’m a new detective assigned here.” He flipped his shield.
The sergeant grinned. “OK. Your first stop is Firearms. You’ll be issued with a gun and holster. Then you report to Captain Dobey. Firearms department is in the basement.”

Ken took the elevator to the basement. He was taken to a firing room and given a selection of guns to try. He felt most comfortable with a big Colt Python. The female officer in charge of issuing the firearms grinned as she signed it out to him and filled in the paperwork that would forever connect his name with bullets fired from this gun.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Nothing. It’s just a joke I have with a couple of the others about the size of a guy’s weapon! Not that it applies to all the cops here.”
Ken blushed. “I have to go report to Captain Dobey. Can you tell me where his office is?”
“Third floor.”

Ken took the elevator yet again and made his way along the hallway to the door marked Captain of Detectives Harold C. Dobey. He was about to knock when he heard voices inside the room. The discussion was heated.
“But Captain….I don’t want to break in some rookie. I have enough on my plate with this case as it is.”
“I don’t have any choice. You are the only man in the squad without a partner while Rick is in the hospital.”
“I’d rather work on my own.”
“That’s out of the question and you know it!”
Ken heard the other man say something that earned him a gruff yell. “That’s enough! You are assigned to train Hutchinson and that’s an order!”
“Yes…sir!” Ken had heard that missed beat before. His heart in his mouth he knocked on the door.
The gruff voice shouted ‘come in” and Ken walked in.

Dobey was sitting behind his desk that was piled high with paperwork. He was a fat black man in his mid-forties; although he looked older. He was leafing through a file. He motioned to Ken to sit down.
Ken stared at his new ‘trainer’ and partner.
Dave Starsky was perched on the filing cabinet beside the water cooler. He was sipping from a goblet and seemed to be staring into space. He crumpled the goblet and lobbed it deftly into the waste basket behind Dobey’s chair and stood up.
“We have the night beat. Be back here at six pm sharp. And if I were you I’d get a little sleep!”
Before Ken could say anything he was gone.
Dobey grunted and said “you’ll get used to him” as he stood up. “Come on Hutchinson, I’ll show you your desk and introduce you to the others. He led Ken to the squad room where a couple of other plain-clothes cops were typing up reports. Dobey introduced them and both smiled when they heard that this was Starsky’s new partner.
“Best of luck,” one of them said. The other grinned and muttered something about taming the tiger.
Dobey showed Ken to a desk that was pushed up face-to-face with another. Both had a standard issue three-shelf filing tray, a blotter, a pencil pot and a hole-punch. There was a rolodex on both desks and a flip calendar. The calendar on one of the desks was open at a date two weeks ago and the rest of the desk showed no sign of anyone using it. The other calendar was open to the correct date; someone had been doodling on it while writing an appointment down; the rolodex was open. There were no files on the filing tray but two files were neatly stacked on the desk and another lay open beside them. Both desks had extensions at right angles holding a typewriter. There was a half-completed report form in the typewriter.

When Hutch returned at five minutes past six pm Starsky was sitting at his desk reading a file and glowering. He put the file down and stood up. “Lesson number one if you’re working with me – you get here on time.” He showed no sign of remembering Ken from the Academy.
Despite being slightly taller than the other man Ken had to quicken his pace to keep up with Starsky as he strode down the hallway and started skipping down the stairs to the parking garage. Again he noted the strange way Starsky walked, as if he had difficulty moving one ankle at times. He decided not to say anything and made a big effort to keep his emotions controlled.

Ken stared at the car in front of him.
“Come on,” Starsky said impatiently, “get in.”
Ken opened the door of the bright red car with a white blaze that started wide at the back as it crossed the roof of the car and tapered to a fine point just above the front wheels. Ken glanced at the badge by the wheel arch – he thought Torinos were cars for the suburbs…obviously not this one! The car was higher at the back than at the front and the engine was already growling. So, it seemed, was the driver! Ken recalled the other cop’s comment about taming the tiger and wondered whether he meant the man or the car.
“Check the list.” Starsky said abruptly. Ken automatically reached for the glove compartment and pulled out the list of everything they should have with them and ran through it item by item.
Satisfied that all was where it should be, Starsky gunned the engine and the Torino sped out of the garage with a squeal of rubber on concrete. He drove out into the road and deftly joined the traffic.
“OK, let’s get a few ground rules here.” He said as he swung the car round a right turn that sent Ken sliding across the bench seat.
“One; I can’t drive with you in my lap so learn to balance or either do up the seat belt or hold on to something – not me! Two; we got to find a name I can call you. Kenneth sounds like mommy’s little boy, Ken sounds Barbie’s boyfriend and Hutchinson is too damn long in a tough situation. So I guess I’ll call you Hutch. You can call me Starsky. No-one calls me David and only a few are allowed to call me Dave – if I ever decide you can I’ll let you know. Ditto if I decide I like you enough to let you call me Starsk….”
Ken swallowed his anger. Who the hell does he think he is?
Starsky hadn’t finished. “OK now I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but here’s a few things you need to know. I grew up in the neighborhood; I know people that cops aren’t always supposed to know and I’m friends with a few more. I was in ‘Nam…I’ll bet you were singing songs on campus and hoping you’d get the grades to keep your ass out of trouble by going to grad school.” He shot a sidelong look at Ken to see if he was getting the rise he hoped for…the blond was blushing slightly. “Oh yeah, I forgot, you dropped out didn’t you – guess you must have struck lucky.” Ken was about to ask him how he knew that; then he remembered the open file on the desk. “I guess you read my file.” He said quietly.
“Yeah.” Starsky said no more. He turned into an alley and parked between an old red and white Caddie with big fins and a fence with a sign that said ‘no parking’. Ken…no I guess I’d better get used to Hutch… looked at the sign and then at Starsky who was already getting out of the car.
“Should you leave the car here?”
“Aw shit! OK next lesson. That sign is there to stop anyone else from taking my spot. This is the back entrance to a bar and it belongs to an old buddy of mine.” He led Hutch into the bar.

“Starsky; how are you my man?”
Hutch looked over at the bar where a tall skinny black man was wiping glasses. He had a cigarette hanging from his lips and he looked like he was dressed to appear in Mr. Bojangles. His jacket was a patchwork of denim and plaids; he was wearing plum colored flares and a green shirt that was open at the neck; the outfit was topped by a big fedora. Ken noted that there was a sexual ambiguity about this man…it turned him on.
Starsky ambled over to the bar and perched on a stool.
“Hi Huggy. Things are fair to middling.”
“That bad huh?” Huggy caught sight of Hutch. “Who’s the blond?”
“This is Ken Hutchinson…Hutch. And he’s my new partner.” Starsky made it sound like a ball and chain.
“Hutch, this is Huggy Bear. We go back a long time and he knows everything I don’t about what’s going down out there in the jungle.”
Hutch held out a hand and Huggy stared at him. Starsky chuckled. “Shake his hand Hug; it makes him feel better – he’s terminally polite!”
Embarassed, Hutch didn’t know whether to withdraw his hand but Huggy took it and shook it with a wide grin. “He’s not always as grouchy as this. Sometimes he’s worse; but most times he’s a nice guy.”
Starsky ordered beer for both of them and made his way to the pool table “Hope you can hold your own Hutch – you’ll be playing for the tab!” Huggy said as Hutch joined his new partner.
Starsky was leaning over the table cueing his first shot. Hutch had to make a big effort to walk around him. Starsky’s jeans were as tight as they’d been back at the academy and his buttocks were clearly defined through the denim; as he leaned forward Hutch caught a tantalizing glimpse of the bulge that hung below the other man’s pelvis. He wanted to brush up against that tempting butt. He swallowed hard and chalked his cue. Starsky continued to down his shots before missing an end pocket. He stood back and smiled. “You figure you can finish it?”
Hutch was ready to take his shot; he lined up his cue and as he glanced up to check the trajectory he saw Starsky’s jeans from the front. He missed his shot….his mind was not on the right kind of balls. Starsky leaned over the table again and Ken excused himself and ran for the john.

Once again he was in a toilet stall jerking off at the thought of Dave Starsky.

He went back into the bar as calmly as he could. Starsky glanced at him and turned back to Huggy. “Hey Blondie come on over here.” Ken flinched inwardly at what appeared to be his new nickname and joined them.
“Huggy tells me that he knows where my pusher is. Come on; time for you to learn the finer arts of a stake out.”
Ken followed him out to the car. Do I dare call him Curly? Oh shit…which curls do I have in mind?

Starsky took a left and started to make his way through the maze of roads and canals of Venice. Hutch looked at him. “Is the stake out around here?”
“No.”
“Then where….”
For an answer Starsky parked alongside Ken’s cottage. “You need to change your clothes.”
Starsky followed him into the house. He looked around and smiled. “Hey the only thing I got wrong was the paintings!” he sat down at the kitchen table and grinned.
“What do you mean?”
“Well I figured you’d have plants and a guitar…maybe a piano. I reckoned the place would either be a tip or you wouldn’t have much personal stuff. Yeah, the paintings, I didn’t expect.”
Hutch walked slowly to his bedroom area.
“Why do you say I should change my clothes?”
“Look in the mirror.”
Ken didn’t need to. He looked again at Dave Starsky. Apart from the enticing jeans he was wearing a high necked black sweater and a beat up looking flier’s jacket. He wore sneakers…blue with three white stripes; Ken recognized the newly fashionable Adidas trademark. Apart from the shoes everything else looked like it might have come from a thrift shop.
“I dress for the streets – you still dress for the office! Plus your gun shows….can you see mine? No; I wear a jacket that hides it. Hurry up we need to get going.”
Ken undressed and pulled a pair of jeans out of his closet. He selected a turtle neck sweater and a thick plaid jacket that hung loose to allow for the holster’s bulk. He found a pair of soft suede boots and pulled them on.
He followed Starsky out into the cooling night air.
So near and yet so far!

They were sitting in the Torino and Hutch had to keep his mind off the proximity of Starsky’s body. He sniffed discreetly and took in the unique perfume of his partner’s body – a mix of sandalwood after shave, sweat and…yes…that tell-tale musky smell of a man who had been sexually active recently. He sighed.
“You got a girl?” Starsky asked, he was staring into the side mirror but Hutch knew he was listening.
“N-n-no not at the moment. I uh- uh - my divorce only came through a while back. I guess I’m still finding my feet.”
“Divorce? What’d she find you in bed with her best friend?”
Hutch swallowed; “yes, something like that.”
Starsky smiled slightly. “I have a girl. Her name’s Helen; she’s in vice.”
Hutch looked at him, wondering if he’d understood what he’d heard.
“Huh?”
“She works with the vice squad….she’s a cop.”
“Oh right.”
Starsky’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I think maybe….no that’s not him.”
He reached into the back of the car and pulled out a thermos and two cups “Coffee?”
Hutch accepted gratefully.
“Yeah, Helen’s one hell of a beautiful lady, I’ve never been struck like this before. I mean OK we have our little fights but…I…” He started to re-screw the cap of the thermos. “Coffee will have to wait.” He said as he turned the key in the ignition. “Hang on to your kishkas Blondie – we’re going hunting!”
My what?

The car swung across the street and Hutch started to fumble for the Mars light. “NO!” Starsky roared at him. “This is a stealth chase.”
He stepped on the gas enough for the Torino to hit a cruising speed of around thirty and stayed at a steady distance from the motor bike that had pulled away from the curb just a few yards from the back entrance of the building.
They followed the bike for a few blocks and watched as the rider parked it in front of a store that looked to Hutch like it had been closed down for a while.
“Well, well, well,” Starsky said, “looks like Rolly is doing a little more than fencing these days.”
He parked and switched off the lights.
“Rolly?” Hutch asked.
“Yeah, Fat Rolly the fence, fink and all-time lard-ass. His place makes Ali Baba’s cave look like a five and dime. Funny though, I’ve never heard he dealt in anything you cold smoke or sniff.”
They waited for a few minutes than Starsky opened his door. “Come on; time to make a little bust. If you are a very good boy I might even let you take the credit.”

Hutch followed him to the store’s door; it was slightly ajar and they could hear a whining voice arguing with a lower angrier voice.
“I’m telling you I don’t keep cash here!”
Starsky pulled his gun out of his holster and clicked the safety. He nodded to Hutch to do the same. He pulled Hutch over to the other side of the door and whispered “You go high, I go low. Only shoot if you have to.”
He kicked the door open and yelled. “Hey Rolly!”
Hutch heard the shots before he felt the pain in his leg. Starsky lay on the ground grabbing his left arm with his right hand. Hutch fired blindly and heard the thud of a body hitting the ground. Somewhere in the mists he heard the whining voice say “I’ll call emergency.” Then he slipped to the floor and passed out. He thought he heard Starsky whisper 'teamwork'.

Hutch woke in a hospital bed. His leg was numb and he could see the cage that kept the covers from weighing down on it. He was not alone. He turned to the other bed where Starsky was either asleep of unconscious. The brunet’s arm was bandaged tight to his side. He was attached to a tube running from a bag of blood.

A couple of days later Starsky was still more asleep than awake. The bullet had hit his brachial artery and it was only Rolly’s swift action that had saved his life and his arm. Hutch had only taken a flesh wound and had been discharged the day before. He came and sat with Starsky every day, willing him back to health.
Starsky started to moan; the moans became cries of panic. “No…No…don’t cut it off, please…don’t….”
Hutch did the instinctive thing. He lay on the bed and held Starsky in his arms. “It’s OK buddy; whatever’s scaring you I’m here.”

He knew that this was the closest he would ever get to lying with Starsky; Helen had visited enough times for him to understand that …but for now it was enough.

The first time ever I lay with you
I felt your heart so close to mine………….