It was morning when Starsky awoke. At first, he wasn't sure he was awake. There was a sense of well-being about him that he didn't recognize. Mornings, when he was most defenseless, usually left him vulnerable to the choking grip of despair. But this morning something hopeful...almost joyful seemed to permeate his system.
Shifting, he felt soreness throughout his body, but it wasn't the familiar pain that he awoke to. This was more like the satisfying burn you feel when you've run several long, hard miles. He lay still for a while. basking in the relief of waking up out from under the dark cloud. As his mind and body relaxed, memory flooded him.
His eyes tore open and he scanned his bed, surprised to find he was alone. A quick search of the floor found only his own clothing lying there. Starsky fell back hard into the pillow, his heart rate increasing as the anxiety started to build.
Calm down, he instructed himself. Just think.
It couldn't have been a dream. The sticky remains both on him and inside of him confirmed that. Thinking harder, he remembered it was Sunday. Hutch wouldn't have had to go to work. He couldn't remember anything during the night...no good-byes...no conversations. The last thing he remembered was coming harder than he ever had in his life...and then sleep.
So what happened? Where was Hutch? Why would he leave?
Starsky heard sounds from beyond his bedroom door. Someone else was in the apartment. Hutch? It had to be. The sounds were coming from the kitchen. Starsky started to get up to check, but then he stopped himself. Something didn't feel right.
He could understand that maybe Hutch woke up before him and went to the kitchen, perhaps needing something to eat or drink. Starsky's own throat was as parched as a desert. But why would Hutch have gotten completely dressed just to go into the kitchen? Was he so eager to get out of Starsky's bed...perhaps even out of his home?
Despite his efforts to quell them, paranoid thoughts and questions flooded him. Did Hutch regret what had happened? Did he have second thoughts? Was he so uncomfortable about what they had done that he couldn't face Starsky? But then, why didn't he just leave altogether? Why was he, from the smell of things, making breakfast?
Because he's Hutch, a voice answered. Even if he regretted what had happened, he wouldn't just run away. He'd try to let you down easy; make sure you were OK. Hell, he'd even make you breakfast, ever the caretaker.
Hutch's voice echoed in Starsky's mind. "There's something there...something you need...something that's in me to give...something important and you won't tell me...."
Starsky suppressed the nauseous rush as he felt his skin grow cold.
Oh, God, was that what last night was about? Was that Hutch taking comfort to the ultimate level...trying to give me the thing that I needed the most because he's been so worried about me? So worried that he'd do anything...anything...to fix it?
Starsky's hand went to his stomach, feeling as though he had just been kicked there. With dread, he replayed the entire evening in his mind. It had been so amazing, so unexpected...so...unbelievable? Almost too good to be true. Hutch was everything he could have ever wanted him to be and more. The unselfish way in which he focused on Starsky's needs astounded his partner. Hutch had given him everything...made him feel a euphoria he had never known. At no time had he demanded anything in return. In fact, he took nothing for himself until the very end.
Starsky felt the tears begin a path down his face as he got the uneasy impression that his world was collapsing down around him again. Desperately, he tried to remember every word that Hutch had said...every facial expression...every gesture. He tried to remember beyond his bliss-clouded perspective of last night. Here, in the cold light of day, were there clues he missed, things he hadn't picked up on?
'I need this, Hutch. I've needed it for so long I can't remember a time when I didn't.'
'I love you, Hutch.'
Starsky's own words drifted back to him easily, but he couldn't remember any similar declarations on the other side. No admissions of secret longings...no pronouncements of discovered feelings. Just quiet acceptance of Starsky's feelings, Starsky's desires.
‘Too many tears,' Hutch had whispered before he kissed them away. And then he did his best to bring tears of joy to the eyes whose tears he had dried so many times.
He does love me, Starsky realized. Just not the way I love him.
Starsky curled up in a ball on the space in his bed where Hutch had lain. The sound of his heart breaking was almost audible. Ecstasy to agony in less than 24 hours. Everything then nothing. From hope to utter hopelessness.
The feelings were not foreign, however, and Starsky found himself accepting them with fatalistic acquiescence. Such things had become common place in this roller coaster ride that posed as his life. What was the use in fighting against it? Better to just accept it and be grateful for the one perfect night of paradise, the brief respite from the weight of the shadows.
Lethargically, he pulled himself from the bed and headed for the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, Starsky emerged from the bathroom showered and dressed. Since he knew that Hutch had done the same upon waking, he decided it was best to follow suit. No need to make this any more uncomfortable for Hutch than it needed to be. Feelings buried as far down as he could stuff them, Starsky entered the living room on auto-pilot. But the walls of detachment he was trying so desperately to hide behind nearly came tumbling down when he saw his partner.
Hutch was sitting on the couch, on the phone, looking...beguiling. The clean blond hair shone like a crown upon his head. The white shirt looked crisp despite its night on the floor, and it clung to his body in a way that highlighted every contour. The shirt was tucked into the narrow waistband of the tight black jeans, which hugged his long muscular legs.
Visions of what lay beneath those clothes flooded Starsky. His mind taunted him with pictures of Hutch naked and aroused...Hutch's body rocking in the throes of orgasm....
Starsky forced the images away and headed towards the kitchen as he overheard some of Hutch's conversation.
"Yeah, I know it's short notice, but I don't see why that's an issue...Yes, the whole thing...no...wait...hold on a second...."
Hutch stood up and snagged Starsky's arm before he could disappear into the kitchen. His eyes seemed bluer somehow if that were possible...and they were positively shining. Why did he have to be so damned beautiful?
"Good morning," Hutch said cheerfully. He motioned towards the receiver in his hand. "Sorry about this, I'll be off in a second. I heard you in the shower, so I put breakfast on the table. Why don't you get started before it gets cold?"
Hutch squeezed his arm affectionately and gave him a warm smile. Then he moved back towards the couch and returned to his conversation.
Starsky stood where he was, momentarily unable to move. Hutch seemed awfully chipper for someone feeling the regrets of 'the morning after'...for someone who needed to find a way to extricate himself from such an awkward situation. Deciding that Hutch's veneer must be for his benefit, Starsky again strove to clear his mind and just get through this. He walked to the table where he found an expansive breakfast of pancakes, eggs and bacon. Hutch had gone to a lot of trouble. Too bad he didn't have the stomach for any of it.
"So, we understand each other, then," Hutch was saying into the phone in a tone that brooked no argument. "Good, then I expect this taken care of as soon as possible...no that won't work. I've got a tight schedule today, so I'll be in and out. I'll have to call you back...Yes, I'll be working those details out this afternoon...Right, take care of that, too...Yeah, I'll get in touch with him later when I have a free moment...All right, thanks." The receiver was set down in the cradle after that.
Starsky was still staring down at the breakfast when Hutch approached.
"Busy day?" Starsky questioned caustically.
"You could say that," Hutch said, smiling as though there were something amusing in the statement. He moved closer then, his lips seeming to zero in on Starsky's mouth. Starsky dodged the advance.
"Well, I guess you need to get going then. Don't stay around here on my account."
"Look Hutch, you did your duty. You even made me a nice breakfast to boot. So go on. I wouldn't want to keep you from your plans."
Starsky bit his lip, ashamed at how bitter he was sounding. He hadn't intended it to come out that way. It was just that when he heard Hutch going on with all his plans as though this were just any other day, his defense mechanism kicked in.
"Did you hit your head on the headboard or something?" Hutch asked, sounding genuinely confused. "Or did you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"
"I woke up alone in bed this morning," Starsky shot back. "I got the hint." He tried to walk away then, but Hutch grabbed his arm and spun him around.
"Whoa! Back up. What the hell is going on here?"
Starsky wrenched his arm away. "Don't, OK." Despite his best efforts to squelch them, emotions were slipping through. He found himself snapping brusquely. "Look, I'm sure you've got some flowery speech all planned so you can let me down easy, but save it. I don't need it. I'm a big boy and I can handle reality. So stop worrying about protecting my feelings and just go."
Pain did battle with confusion behind Hutch's eyes. He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "I don't get this. After last night...after everything...you're still pushing me out...dismissing me instead of talking to me."
"Last night is over," Starsky declared as headed back towards the living room. Hutch was right behind him, indignant.
"So what does that make me? Some kind of cheap one-night stand?"
It was Starsky's turn to be confused now. Why was Hutch pressing this? He had given him an out. Why wouldn't he just take it?
"No, of course not." Starsky tried to soften his tone. He had never intended for this to go this way. None of this was Hutch's fault. He didn't deserve hostility. "Look, Hutch, last night was wonderful. It was an incredible gesture and I'm grateful to you in more ways than I can say. But it's morning now and it's time to face reality. You don't have to feel any obligation to me."
"Gesture? Obligation?" Hutch was shaking his head as though they were foreign words. He looked at Starsky with a droll smile. "If how I treated you last night felt like obligation then I need to work on my technique."
Starsky was completely bewildered now. None of this was making sense. He turned away from Hutch, unable to think straight when those eyes were distracting him. He fought for words, babbling whatever came to his mind. "You don't owe me anything, Hutch...it's OK...I understand...I mean you're my best friend...you were there for me...you wanted to comfort me...that means more to me than you'll know but...I don't want you to think there's any strings attached...feel like you have to do anything more...feel obligated...."
Hutch's hands were on his shoulders urging him around. When he turned he saw startled concern in the face perusing his features.
"Jeez, Starsk, you really believe that, don't you? It's so easy for you to believe the worst right now, isn't it? So hard to get out from under all the pain. I should have realized that. I should have been more sensitive to it. I'm sorry."
He wrapped Starsky in his arms then, squeezing him into a tight embrace. Starsky was afraid to move...afraid to breathe. He didn't know what was happening, but at this moment he didn't care. At this moment he just wanted to stay inside those arms forever.
It was Hutch who broke the hug, pulling back so that he could look into Starsky's eyes. His voice was tender.
"Let me be real clear about what's going on here so you don't have any more reason to misunderstand. Last night was not about obligation. Yeah, maybe a small part of it was about comforting you, but I'm not going to apologize for enjoying being able to make you feel good." He lifted his hand to Starsky's face and trailed his fingers over the features. His eyes glimmered in a way Starsky had never seen before. His voice was steeped in emotion. "Starsky, last night...when you kissed me...it was like all the pieces of my life suddenly fell into place. Everything felt clear for the first time. It was like having the answers to questions I didn't even know I had. And it all seemed so obvious. How could I have not seen what was so clearly always in front of me?"
"You're talking about how I feel about you...."
"No. I'm talking about how I feel about you. I'm talking about finally understanding it...about finally understanding me. All the countless relationships that never satisfied and always failed. All the times I felt frustrated and unfulfilled and I couldn't figure out why. All the times I wanted to feel close to you, but I could never feel close enough. Fragments of dreams denied...voices ignored...yearnings that didn't even have words. Realization that I never felt whole unless I was with you. It all finally made sense. In that one moment when you kissed me, I understood it all. It was like my life began right then...my life the way it was supposed to be."
Starsky's head was reeling. He was frantically trying to assimilate all of this...to hear what Hutch was saying. But something inside him was fighting it. For some reason these words were more frightening than the rejection he had anticipated. He shook his head forcefully, unable to accept this.
"No...you're just confused. You don't want to hurt me. You're mixing up my needs with yours."
Hutch smiled at him indulgently. "You can't run away from this. It's not going away."
"You need some time to think about this..." He was backing up but Hutch was moving forward.
"I thought about it all night. I couldn't sleep; I was so heady from it. Why do you think I got up so early?'
"To get away from me."
"Come here, you big dope," Hutch caught him in his arms and kissed him then, a kiss that ignited all the same sparks as the ones last night. When he pulled back, Hutch whispered softly. "Does that feel like I want to get away from you?"
"Hutch, wait...stop...we need to talk about this."
"Oh, now you want to talk," Hutch said with amusement.
"Yeah, I think we should." Starsky was trying to dislodge himself from the embrace, but Hutch pulled him closer.
"Fine, we'll talk," he said into the ear he was nibbling. "I'll tell you all the things I should have been telling you last night...all the things I was feeling and was too overwhelmed to say." He kissed him again then, long and hard. "Did you know that I didn't understand what kissing was until I kissed you? Your mouth is like nothing I've ever known before. Just the taste of it sends me soaring."
Starsky was shaking all over. His emotions were in turmoil. Part of him was screaming inside to give into this, but the fear of doing so was outweighing that urge.
"That's not what I meant we should talk about," his unsteady voice pleaded. He turned his head to keep his lips out of Hutch's path, but Hutch simply rerouted his course, kissing down Starsky neck. He spoke between each kiss.
"Oh? Well then how about I talk about what it's like to hold you in my arms...how we fit together like pieces of a puzzle...how the lightest brush of you against me makes me shiver with desire...."
"Breakfast...what about breakfast..." Starsky desperately tried another track.
"It's cold...but you're hot...and I'm hungry for you..." Hutch's hands moved down his back to rest on his butt, which he squeezed tightly, pressing Starsky hard against him. Hutch's demanding erection dug into Starsky's rapidly growing one, causing Starsky to gasp. His body was quickly veering out of control.
"You...said...you...had...plans...busy day... remember...."
"The plans are just going to have to wait." Hutch trailed his tongue along the outside of Starsky's lips. "It seems to me that you need more convincing that I'm sincere. So, I'll just have to prove it to you." He moved his hand around to cup the bulge in Starsky's jeans. "That's my number one priority right now."
Starsky's knees buckled then as his head spun. He couldn't fight this, though he knew he should. He looked up into Hutch's eyes pleadingly, desperate to make him understand.
Starsky felt himself pushed against the back of the couch. He was leaned down across the top, his back pressed into the cushion as his left leg flopped over the edge. His right leg was still planted on the floor, but it was not stable enough to balance him. Hutch's upper body flattened down over him, pinning him there to keep him steady. Hutch clasped Starsky's cheeks in his hands and gazed down into his eyes as though he could see through to his soul. His voice was compelling.
"Don't be afraid of this, Starsk. Don't be afraid of us. Most of all, don't be afraid of yourself. Don't be afraid to feel and dream and want. I know those are scary things for you right now, but I promise you, it'll be OK. Close your eyes," he said as he kissed the lids closed. "Now just relax and let it happen. Feel it babe, let it come."
"Hutch..." Starsky heard his broken voice appeal as he grabbed onto Hutch's arm.
"I'm right here. Feel me with you. Open yourself up to that connection that's always existed between us. Trust it. Know what's between us is real. Somewhere inside of you, you know it. Let it come out. Don't push anything down anymore."
In the maelstrom of his mind, Starsky was shocked by how hard it was to do what Hutch was asking. Every reflex inside him fought to shut down...to find a place to hide. The need to do so was nearly paralyzing. But he focused with all his strength on Hutch's voice...the sensation of Hutch's hands stroking his face and hair...the wave of assurance he could sense emanating from the body beside him....
"That's it. Just relax and breathe. Take your time. Don't push anything. Just feel it...accept it...."
Starsky wasn't sure he knew how to do that anymore. The idea of letting the light cast its glare on the darkness was terrifying, and he couldn't even articulate why. He felt the panic grip him and his muscles tensed. The clutch he had on Hutch's arm increased.
"It's too much...it's too hard...."
"Look at me," Hutch said softly. "Look into my eyes."
Starsky did, wishing he could climb into the sanctuary he saw there.
"I love you," the solemn words were spoken like poetry. "Believe that. Trust it. If you can do that, the rest will come in time. Tell me you believe me, babe."
With an almost painful sense of relief, Starsky realized he did believe it. Somewhere deep inside of him, he knew Hutch loved him. He grabbed onto that thought like it was a rope being lowered down into a deep, gloomy pit, and tried to use it to climb upwards.
"I do believe you," he said breathlessly. A smile brighter than the sun's core beamed down on him. Then the brilliant mouth moved to his and took him in a soul-searing kiss that seemed to last forever.
In the wake of it, Starsky found himself disconnected from the groping tentacles that were trying to pull him down. Right for this moment, all that existed was him and Hutch.
"I love you, too." His voice was unsteady. "I've always loved you...feels like forever. I never thought it could be like this...I never thought you would want me like this."
"Want you?" Hutch smiled. "It's more like a necessity at this point." He slid his hand up under Starsky's tee shirt, carding his fingers through the thatch of chest hair. "My soul calls out for you to quiet the ache that has lived there forever. My body craves you for sustenance."
Starsky shuddered. "You sure have a way with words."
"You ain't heard nothing yet." There was a gleam in his eyes that told Starsky he fully intended to make all this thoughts and desires crystal clear. Starsky silently prayed he could withstand it. Hutch's hand rubbed across his belly.
"I love that...the way your body quakes when I touch you." The hand traveled back upward where fluttering fingertips traced the outline of his nipple. "And right here...you're so sensitive...one touch and this little nub springs to attention."
Starsky felt his nipple come alive in Hutch's hand. He arched up into the touch as Hutch's breath whispered into his ear.
"The feel of you drives me crazy. Just the simplest touches make my balls ache. Do you know how hard it was last night? How hard it was to go slow and not just devour you? How hard it is right now...."
Letting out a frustrated growl, Starsky tangled his fingers into that silky hair and pulled the sweetly talking mouth to his, searing it in a kiss that demonstrated he understood full well how difficult it was to maintain control. Hutch moaned into him as their tongues danced and dueled. When Hutch pressed his palm against the mound between Starsky's thighs, the leg that had been supporting his weight on the floor gave out. He lost his balance, clinging to Hutch as his weight shifted downward to the seat of the couch. This threw off the blonde's balance as well and they both tumbled down onto the sofa cushions, mouths still sealed together.
Hutch's weight was on top of Starsky, pressing him into the deepest recesses of the sofa while pinning his right arm below them both. The bandaged hand of this left arm was fairly useless, but Starsky dragged it back and forth across Hutch's back in an effort to get closer. The wily hand that had snagged his groin before was back now, kneading through the denim, which was the only barrier that separated it from its prey.
Hutch tore his mouth away, impassioned words spilling forth as he fumbled with the fastening to the bursting pants.
"I need to touch you...I need to see that incredible cock...I want to see it all thick and hard, blood pulsing through it in primal need. I almost came from looking at it yesterday...I've never seen anything that turned me on so much in my life...."
As the words sang through Starsky's brain, that tireless hand got inside his jeans and was pulling him free. Starsky lurched upward, his cock surging into Hutch's hand.
"Oh yeah, babe. I love the feel of you in my hand. It's another place where we fit together so perfectly."
With fervid zeal, Hutch began squeezing and stropping in earnest. At the same time, he maneuvered his body up off Starsky's a bit to help free the trapped right hand. Grasping it by the wrist, Hutch pulled it to rest on top of the angry bulge that was threatening to tear his pants.
"See what you do to me. It started getting hard the minute you came out of the bathroom this morning. It was hard all night just from thinking about you. I need you to touch me, babe. I need to feel your hand against me...please." The moan then was pain-filled.
Starsky hastened to oblige. It took a few minutes to work the pants open with his right hand, particularly with the distractions Hutch was providing to his own flesh, but with concerted effort he reached his goal. When he had drawn down the zipper and rescued the needy cock from the strangling confines of briefs and denim, his lover let out a wail.
"Oooooooohhhh...shit, Starsk...oh yeah...."
While their hands worked in a frenzied rhythm, their mouths found their mates. Legs tangling, arms pumping, bodies humping, mouths pillaging...the frenetic motions soon became more than the limited confines of the couch could withstand. Once again, they found themselves tumbling, this time onto the floor. Barely missing a beat, Hutch stripped the cushions from the couch and tossed them to the floor, rolling his partner on top of them as they continued their foraging.
It was hard to distinguish whose moans were whose. They were both on fire. Clothing was removed in a fumbling rush...sounds of tearing blithely ignored. Any doubts Starsky may have had about whether this passion was mutual were becoming quickly dispelled. Hutch was more spirited and alive than Starsky had ever seen him. Starsky could feel the pleasure burning in the fair body almost as intensely as he felt his own. They couldn't seem to get enough of each other...each touch eliciting a voracity for more.
Starsky knew he was close. His body was so far gone he thought he would surely melt down at any moment. But then he felt Hutch untangling them...moving away. The sense of abandonment was crushing. He let out a strangled moan.
"I know, lover," the breathless voice that leaned to kiss his face soothed. "Me too...just hang on...I'll be right back."
He called to Hutch as he heard him leave the room. "Huuuuuutch...."
After an eternity, that was really only half a minute, Hutch was back beside him again. Half sitting up, Starsky fought to clear his hazy vision and understand what was going on. When he glanced down to Hutch's hand and saw the familiar tube, all became clear.
"Oh. God, yes," he heard himself growl as he flopped back down against the cushions. Glorious images of their joining flooded him...that perfect joining of body, mind and soul. He needed that again more than he needed air.
"Making love to you last night was the most incredible thing I've ever known," came the silky voice beside his ear. "It was as though my whole life was spent in a coma and I only woke up when we became one. I felt it in my body; I felt it in my soul...I felt it in places I didn't even know I had. I felt connected to you in a way I've never felt with another living being. It's like you became part of me. And I became part of you." When he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on Starsky's lips it became obvious he was trembling. "I need to feel that again, Starsk." The entreaty was spoken in the faintest whisper.
Starsky wrapped his arms around this man that he loved with everything he had. "Me, too."
Hutch's smile could have lit up the world. Starsky felt himself smile, too...the broadest, most enveloping smile he could remember experiencing in a long time. They were kissing again then, their mouths unable to resist each other. As Hutch's tongue probed deeply in his mouth he felt the hands upon his groin. One hand wrapped around his cock while the other began to fondle his balls. The touches sent him into orbit as he anticipated what he was being readied for. His legs fell open in invitation as he waited impatiently for Hutch to claim him.
The sensation of something cool and slick being worked along his cock made him shudder. He opened his eyes to see Hutch spreading the lube liberally all over his cock which was writhing from the stimulation. Starsky watched in frozen bewilderment as Hutch straddled him and lined his anus up with Starsky's straining organ. Afraid to move, afraid to breathe, Starsky held stock-still as his partner lowered himself down upon him.
The sight of it was astonishing enough, but the feel was staggering. He felt the head of his cock become sheathed by the tightest pressure he'd ever known. Searing heat was everywhere and he had to finally breathe...a long, gasping breath...to keep from exploding on the spot.
He looked up at Hutch, struggling for clarity. "Babe...what? I don't...."
Hutch's face was twisted in concentration, yet he still was able to form a more coherent sentence than Starsky. "It's my turn," he said lightly, then sobered as his eyes appealed to Starsky. "I need to feel this, babe. I need to feel you in me...please...."
Starsky was floored. Not only did Hutch want him in this way, but he actually thought he had to coax his lover into it. As if Starsky would refuse this. As if he could. Starsky once again struggled to communicate, needing to reassure.
"Hutch...love...of course...of course I want this too...I just...I don't want you to be hurt."
Hutch smiled the most charming smile. "Not to worry... I'm a careful guy." He inched down a bit further then and Starsky nearly dissolved into the cushions.
So many things were flooding him at once that he couldn't get a firm handle on any of them. There was this overwhelming sense of love for Hutch; this mind-blowing realization of how deeply his partner's feelings for him ran. There was wariness of causing this beautiful man pain. There was the awestruck disbelief that anything like this could really be happening. And eclipsing it all, there was the blinding elation pulsing through his cock as it was slowly swallowed up in rapture.
With determination, Hutch had managed to encase half of his length. But the discomfort was becoming apparent as he groaned with the exertion. Starsky reached his hand up to caress his face as he whispered with concern. "Babe, don't...."
"Please, Starsk...I need this...it's so incredible...I just...just help me out a little, OK?"
Cursing himself for being so self-absorbed, Starsky slid his hand down Hutch's body to take hold of the now semi-erect penis and began to caress it. Pissed that he didn't have two working hands to bring pleasure to his lover, Starsky tried to make the best of what he had. He released Hutch for a moment to wet his hand and fingers with his saliva, then he coated the stirring cock and formed a slick channel with his hand. After a few minutes of this diligent attention, Hutch moaned, his clenched muscles loosening around Starsky's organ. He gripped the base of the couch behind them for leverage and began to work his way down again.
Starsky had to concentrate to keep himself from ripping Hutch's cock from his body. The pressure around his own groin was electrifying and it was becoming nearly impossible to stay still. Starsky wondered fleetingly how the hell Hutch stood it as long as he did last night. The need to thrust was more powerful than the need to breathe.
At last, Hutch's ass came flat against Starsky's thighs as they were fully united. They both seemed unable to move for a few moments, staring at each other through glazed eyes as the gravity of it all washed over them. Despite his arousal, Starsky felt content to stay in that moment forever. But then Hutch shifted, stroking Starsky with his body, causing his control to snap like an over-stretched rubber band.
Starsky's back arched off the floor as he thrust up into Hutch. Hutch strengthened his grip on the couch and moved to parry every thrust, creating the most consummate friction. They moved together in synchronized splendor. Starsky worked the engorged cock in his hand hard as he lunged to nail the point inside of Hutch that sent him howling. All too soon it became too much to bear, as their sweaty, quivering bodies pinnacled. Starsky felt Hutch's hands grab hold of his shoulders, nails digging into the skin as he began to convulse. The walls of the tunnel that housed Starsky's cock began to collapse onto him in constricting waves as hot semen splashed his hand and chest. He had to let go of the spewing cock then, for fear of hurting it, as his own body began to spasm. Starsky wrapped his hand around the couch leg and held on as his head bent back to emit a strangled cry. His balls tightened harshly as he felt his essence flow from his body and into Hutch's. There were stars then...magnificent, shooting stars that rocketed within him and all around.
In the aftermath of the powerful orgasm, Starsky helped his lover ease off him. Hutch slipped down into his waiting arms, and they held each other quietly until their breathing regulated enough for speech.
"So, are you convinced?" Hutch said teasingly into the silence.
"Are you convinced? I said I was going to convince you that I was sincere about my feelings for you. Did I succeed?"
Starsky looked down into the expectant face that was nestled on his shoulder. He sighed, speaking with uncertainty. "I don't know."
"You don't know?" Hutch said indignantly.
"Well, if I say yes, does that mean you're going to stop trying to convince me?"
Hutch laughed as he started to sit up. "Yup." He leaned down to plant a kiss on Starsky's nose. "Now that you're convinced I love you, all that's left is to spend the rest of my life demonstrating how much."
"If you demonstrate as good as you convince, you're going to kill me," Starsky groaned.
The laughing blond started to stand up. Starsky snagged his hand to stop the motion. "Hey, where you going?"
"I've got plans, remember," Hutch said with a wicked glint in his eye.
"Just what the hell are these plans anyway?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
"Do they have to do with me?"
"Well then, that's not fair. You gotta tell me. Or at least give me a hint."
Hutch smiled indulgently at him. "OK, you want a hint? While I'm gone, I want you to pack."
"Pack?! Pack what?"
"A suitcase, Einstein. And while you're packing, think at least two weeks-worth of stuff and think cold...very cold."
A confused Starsky was still sputtering as Hutch stood up and gathered his clothes from the floor.
"Pack...cold...2 weeks...what are you talking about? Don't you have to go to work tomorrow?"
"Nope. It's all been taken care of. While you were sleeping like a log this morning, I was busy with details. I am officially on vacation."
"You really need to stop repeating everything I say. You're starting to sound like a parrot."
Hutch was obviously enjoying this immensely. Now that he thought about it, Starsky was too. It had been a long time since they had been like this together...like them.
"But Hutch, I don't get it. What vacation? Where are we going? Why do I have to pack?"
"Those are all the hints you're getting for now. Just be ready when I get back. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to shower."
"Huuuuutch..." Starsky whined to the retreating back. Hutch merely waved him off and kept walking. Starsky slumped down on the cushion in an exasperated pout.
"Cold?" he grumbled to himself. "I hate cold."