Title: Moonshine
Season, Episode: Season 4, Episode 5
Rating: T
Note: No Copyright Infridgment inteded. I do not own the boys, just play around with them occassionally.
**Snippet**
Moonshine
Starsky is drunk. Not just drunk but very drunk. The bootleg he is drinking is going right through him and going straight for his brain. Many times, whilst throwing his head back and drinking shots of the stuff, I had to stop a wondering hand from fondling me in public. I like this side of Starsky, not that I would admit it to my drunken partner once he sobered up.
This Starsky is more… relaxed than he has been since our long time friend, John Blaine, turned out to be gay. This Starsky is more open with his feelings, more like I am, as he says. Of the duo, Starsky is the more closed off, the one who would only give people glimpses into his mind (unless angered, then the volcano hidden under that unruly curly hair would erupt and then everyone was screwed). Only I was privy into his thought without restrictions, or so I'd thought. Me and thee, he said some many times over the years that I'd begun to believe it.
But since Blaine… he became distant. I've known him for nearly eight years and he's never acted this way. I don't know if it was me - asking if men who spent most of their time together had certain 'tendencies' - who made him this way. He knew what I was speaking off; he's not stupid, he understood what I implied about our own relationship. Hell, we act like a married couple already, something that most guys at the precinct made fun of us for. It wasn't like I was asking if he as in love with me. That topic wasn't something I wanted to get into.
And yet, that's what made us a good match as partners. We just know when something is up by a simple cocked eyebrow or quirk of lips. We know each other so well that we can just tell if something is up. Sometimes we can even tell without even seeing one another. It was a good partnership that no one, no matter who tried, could destroy.
It seemed to deteriorate after that, however. Starsky became distant, quiet and closed off to a point that I, aggravated, gave up. I became snappy, I know I did and I felt bad about it most of the time. If Starsky gave up, I thought, then so should I. Why continue pretending that I am someone who I am not? Why pretend to be like everyone expects me to be? If my best friend can't accept who I am, then no one will. Although, thinking about it, he doesn't know who I really am. He, like the rest, only sees whom I want them to see.
And, as the ten-gallon hat wearing men leave the bar, I allow a little part of the true me escape as my faithful partner's traveling hand makes his way to my thigh once more. I don't stop it this time; I welcome it. When his hand makes contact, I bite my lower lip and wait. Soon the wandering hand is gone and with it a glimpse into my own thought. I lean on the bar, waving the bartender over and present my badge.