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Mixed Signals

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Mixed Signals

The game was silly. Starsky knew who he knew, what he knew and how he knew it and there was no hiding behind that. Starsky knew his insecurities, too. But did he know how deep they ran and how hard Hutch worked to cover them up? Hutch put on a disguise while longing to shout “see me!” Mixed signals that confused them both.

Muscle weakness. He was so very tired. Catching the flu right now would be his karma. He should have called Starsky to let him know he’d found Pardee’s girlfriend. But he wanted to it make up to him for losing Pardee in the first place.

Abdominal cramps. A sucker punch to his gut doubled him over and had him reaching for a wall. This was no flu. He remembered the day in the alley when Starsky had been the one writhing in pain. They’d clung to each other to ride it out. What he wouldn’t give to have him here now.

Difficulty breathing, paralysis. He collapsed saying Starsky’s name. Iron bands squeezed his chest making it harder and harder to draw in air. He’d die on a mattress stained with sweat and semen, feeling like a fool.