S/H Zine story: Hard Lesson (NC-17)
Title: Hard Lesson
Author: morganlogan
Pairing: S/H
Wordcount: 2,410
Rating: NC-17
Category: FT, h/c (sorta), PWP really
Beta: CC
Summary: Starsky gets into a fix. Hutch helps him out.
Notes: Originally published in the 2006 SHareCon Zine.
Hard Lesson
By Morgan Logan
Ow! MotherFUCK!
The pain spread like fire, and Starsky reached down hastily to try to suss out the damage, but the hurt sharpened to a needlepoint and he took his hand away.
I'm done for, he thought with resignation. Always knew this would happen. Dance on the edge long enough, and sooner or later you fall.
He looked down, keeping the rest of his body almost motionless to avoid another stab of pain, and then he took a despairing breath and called out.
"Hutch? I'm in trouble, man. Can you give me a hand?" Starsky winced with dread, waiting. He heard a clink as Hutch put down whatever he was messing with in the kitchen.
"Yeah, what's up?" Hutch said, rounding the bookshelf. His eyes dropped and he took a look at Starsky's crotch, the inevitable white-toothed grin showing he'd picked up on the score.
"Hutch, I swear to God, if you laugh at-"
His threat was drowned out by Hutch's snickering.
"Dammit! Hutch!"
"Okay, okay," Hutch said, wiping a hand across his mouth. He walked over, eyes still on Starsky's groin, where his dick was inconveniently trapped by his zipper.
Hands on his hips, Hutch said, "You realize I've been waiting for this to happen since I first met you?"
"Just shut up and get me out of this mess, would ya?"
"You're asking for a lot here, buddy."
Starsky pleaded mutely with his eyes, and Hutch nodded, a smile still twisting his lips.
"And wipe off that smirk, Hutch, or I swear I'll-"
"Yeah? You want my help or not?"
Starsky nodded miserably.
Hutch took him by the shoulder and tugged gently. "Come on, get closer to the light."
Starsky shuffled over, trying to keep his legs close together, and wincing at the inevitable pinching bite to his favorite body part. He stopped by the bedside table and waited while Hutch turned on the lamp and sat on the bed in front of him.
"Okay, let's see what we've got here." Hutch craned his neck for a moment and then raised his head to look up at him, the blue sparkle in his eyes decidedly unkind. "Yup, it's stuck, all right."
"Just get on with it, funny man."
He saw Hutch bite the corner of his lip before he reached out, looking a little hesitant. Starsky couldn't help gasping when Hutch took hold of his limp penis and lifted it carefully.
"Ow. Ow ow ow," Starsky chanted under his breath, anticipating another flare of pain. But it didn't come. Hutch just held him gently for a moment while studying the situation.
It should've been weird, having his partner staring at his crotch, holding his dick. In fact, it was weird. Very, very weird, Starsky realized. His earlier flush of embarrassment started to rise again, tingling the sides of his neck. He felt a familiar quiver in his stomach.
"Verrry iiinterestink," Hutch said in his stupid German accent. "Herr Doktor, I belief ve vill haf to...to amputate!"
"Ha. Ha. Ha. You're a scream." Starsky gritted his teeth.
Hutch took hold of something just below the area of concern, his knuckles brushing the underside of Starsky's cock. Starsky held his breath. He felt a tug, too tentative to do any good, and a tiny flash of pain that made him yelp in warning.
"Sorry, sorry," Hutch said. Finally, he seemed to have accepted the seriousness of the situation, because his voice had gone gentle. "I can't see well enough like this. Hold on." Hutch nudged him backward a painful step, and then sank to his knees. His head ducked down and closer, so close that his fine blond hair brushed softly against the tip of Starsky's cock, light as a feather's touch. So soft-
Oh, no. No, sweet Jesus. It was inevitable, Starsky supposed. But the unsettled feeling in his belly suddenly turned icy-hot, and he felt the blood thrumming lower into his groin. His cock twitched in Hutch's hand, and Hutch's head jerked up, his hair again sweeping across Starsky's stiffening flesh to fan the flame. His startled eyes stared up into Starsky's face.
Starsky's dick continued it's inexorable swelling. "Ow. Ow. OW! Oh, shit!"
Hutch's eyes changed and he moved fast, reaching below Starsky's dick to grab hold of the zipper.
"No! Please, Hutch!"
"It's the only way, buddy," Hutch said, firming his lips. He pulled down smoothly.
Starsky hardly even felt it when his poor, abused member was at last freed from its metal prison. He was too busy blushing with mortification. But he felt the stinging throb afterward, like a cigarette burn.
"There," Hutch said with satisfaction, his hand still cradling Starsky's full-blown erection.
"Um."
Hutch looked up, blue eyes guileless. "Better?"
"Uh." Thought was impossible. Speech was impossible. All Starsky was conscious of was the feeling of his cock still resting in Hutch's big hand.
Hutch blinked, then smiled slyly, his eyes dropping down again. "You know," he said conversationally, "that was probably the best thing that could've happened. See, I think you got out of it without too much damage." His hand shifted, thumb sliding around so the webbing circled just below the head. He lifted Starsky's cock and ducked down again to peer at him.
Starsky shivered. Hutch looked for a moment, then raised his head.
"It does look like you got a little pinch though, right below here." His thumb moved down to stroke the underside of Starsky's shaft.
"H-h-h-utch," Starsky's tongue was trapped at the look in Hutch's eyes. Humor, mixed with playful knowledge and a hint of heat. Then Hutch's tongue came out to wet his lower lip.
"Want me to kiss it better?"
This is a joke. He's gotta be pulling my leg. But Hutch was still looking up at him expectantly, his eyes knowing. Starsky took a shuddering breath. "Uh." Fortunately, the offer didn't take too much mental work. "Please...?"
Hutch smiled, a hot smile, full of promise. He bent his head again, and Starsky trembled at the silky touch of the wet tongue right near the base of his cock. Then Hutch's lips left him, and Starsky felt a cooling puff of air. It eased the sting, but made him ache with a whole new pain.
"Oh, momma," he said breathlessly.
But Hutch released him an instant later.
"Hutch?" Please, no. Don't stop now!
"My knees hurt," Hutch said simply. He rose to stand in front of Starsky, and touched his arm. "If you want to keep playing doctor, let's do it in comfort, huh?" His voice was smoky soft, and Starsky couldn't help shuddering again.
"Whatever you say," Starsky managed to stammer out.
"Oh, yeah? Since when?" Hutch gave a laugh.
The familiar banter slammed Starsky back into his body from the weird otherworld he'd been floating in. This was Hutch, his partner, offering to get horizontal and play bed games with him. His best friend, looking down at Starsky's cock, which was still hanging out, defiantly erect in spite of everything.
"Hutch....shouldn't we...talk about this?"
"What's to talk about?" Hutch said, his voice unbelievably easy. He took Starsky's shoulders and turned him, pushing him down onto the bed.
"I mean...shouldn't we think about what we're doing, figure this out, work out a plan?"
That husky laugh. "You're starting to sound like me. You always turn neurotic when you're about to get laid?"
Get laid! "Well, yeah. I guess," Starsky muttered.
"I'll have to remember that."
Then Hutch was unbuttoning Starsky's shirt, pulling it off his shoulders, and flattening him to the bed using both hands on Starsky's chest, big palms and fingers making mincemeat out of Starsky's thought processes. By the time he came back to himself Hutch had already stripped him of his shoes and jeans and was bending over him. He tenderly took Starsky into his hand again, and Starsky gasped.
"Still sensitive?" Hutch asked, sounding too innocent.
"V-very," Starsky said, and bit back a moan when Hutch kissed the spot again, soothing it with his tongue..
"Very," Hutch whispered, and then his mouth was slip-sliding over the head of Starsky's cock like a dream. Like the best wet dream ever, the kind he now remembered having, sweaty and aching so good, rubbing and swirling and Jesus, his mouth.
"Your mouth! Ohhh, Hutch."
Hutch raised his head and said roughly, "You like this? I thought I might be pretty good at it." He took Starsky back in, and his spine arched hard when Hutch took him deeper, soft heat sucking at him wetly.
"Good...yeah. Good," Starsky panted. He bounced his ass against the bed, trying to thrust up into Hutch's mouth. One of Hutch's hands slid under his cheeks to help, lifting him while squeezing firmly. Starsky moaned again. He was getting close.
Then he felt Hutch's fingertips boldly slipping into his crack, seeking....
Oh, yes. Pleasepleaseplease. Starsky spread his legs wider and felt the vibration as Hutch rumbled approvingly. The searching fingers found his asshole, circling the perimeter before one fingertip slipped right in, and the delicious tease was too much. Starsky came, clenching hard around the Hutch's finger, his thighs shaking as his cock jerked endlessly in Hutch's mouth.
"Oh, my God," Starsky moaned, his whole body going limp with relief after the brain-crushing orgasm.
"Better?" Hutch said, his damp hand still curved protectively around Starsky's lax dick.
"Jesus." Starsky felt the mattress shift and opened his eyes with an effort.
Hutch's face hung above him, clear blue eyes gleaming with hunger.
"Kiss?" Starsky raised one feeble hand before dropping it again at the look of startlement that tightened Hutch's cheeks. "What, you can suck my cock but you don't want a kiss?" Starsky said, his voice hoarse with disappointment.
He was taken aback with how fast Hutch lunged at him, his full lips smashing against Starsky's as if he could fuse them together permanently in one heated instant. Starsky groaned and opened his mouth to let Hutch in. He sucked his own taste from Hutch's tongue and felt a twitch in his tender groin.
When Hutch finally pulled back he was panting, and all his playfulness had disappeared, his expression now soft with need.
Did you think this was a game, buddy? Is that it? Starsky lifted his hand again, this time reaching all the way to Hutch's temple and the damp, silky strands there. Hutch closed his eyes.
This ain't no game, babe. Starsky gathered himself and then pushed, rolling Hutch onto his back and attaching his lips to Hutch's neck with a vengeance.
"Oh!"
"All's fair..." Starsky murmured against the sweet, soft skin. He trapped one flailing hand, pressing it down against the mattress. Hutch seemed to give in and accept the turnabout, because he didn't fight it when Starsky got down to the business of undressing him, stripping him fully until every inch of skin was vulnerable to his biting attack. He found a spot just at the crease of Hutch's armpit that made him shudder, and later, at the joining of Hutch's hip, Starsky's tongue danced a delicate path that had Hutch twisting and begging.
"Starsky!" Hutch's wrist turned in Starsky's grip, and Starsky responding by squeezing it hard, stilling it.
"Say the magic words, Hutch," Starsky whispered, his teeth scraping at the taut tendon beneath his lips.
"P-please?"
"Nope. Guess again."
But Hutch just stared dazedly at him, looking completely wasted, as if Starsky had fried his circuits. Starsky felt a thrill of power at the thought. Look what I can do to him.
"Ask me to kiss it better, Hutch," Starsky prompted, whispering it close to Hutch's straining erection. He watched, fascinated, as the skin of Hutch's balls tightened in reaction to his breath.
"Kiss it better. Kiss it better," Hutch moaned.
"What, didn't your momma ever teach you to say 'please'?"
A low growl answered him.
"Okay, okay," Starsky murmured, and he laid his tongue at the base of Hutch's cock, stroking upward in one long, twisting lick that ended just below the head.
"God, Starsk!"
The taste wasn't that different from his own, and Starsky tongued the crown, eager to try more. He heard Hutch gasp, and pre-cum seeped from the tip, slightly salty. Starsky settled his elbow against the mattress and started to suck.
It didn't take long. Hutch was shuddering beneath him, a mumble of profanity streaming from his lips, urging him to suck harder, to take it all. Starsky was pretty sure his romantic, refined partner never let himself say stuff like that to his girls, and he felt a secret delight that he'd reduced Hutch to using such dirty language. He smiled around the shaft in his mouth and gripped Hutch's balls, working the lumps within the tight sac until Hutch shouted and tensed.
Warm stickiness pumped from the swollen head, filling Starsky's mouth. He stroked the thick shaft from below, and Hutch cried out again and then again, his balls moving in Starsky's hand.
Starsky pulled away and swallowed, then bent to lick the last tiny bubble of come from the slit. Hutch jerked and pulled away with a moan.
That good, huh? Starsky thought smugly. He knew how sensitive his own cock was when the coming had been especially intense. Crawling up the bed, he lay beside his partner, who was still breathing heavily, sweat beading his chest.
"Better?" Starsky asked the ceiling.
He heard Hutch give a shaky laugh, and turned his head to meet the pale blue eyes.
"The best," Hutch said, voice husky. Then he reached over and pulled Starsky in for another kiss, noses bumping until they settled into the right position, Hutch's lips pulling at his, sucking gently.
"The best," Starsky agreed, and let his head fall against the pillow. Hutch was still staring at him, a small smile on his kiss-reddened lips.
"Thanks for...the first aid," Starsky said.
"Teach ya not to wear underwear," Hutch said, smiling wider, a glint of wonder in his eyes.
"Oh, yeah, taught me the hard way," Starsky said, making Hutch groan. "But...."
Hutch rolled on top of him, trapping Starsky beneath his warm weight. "But?" he said, sounding a little anxious.
Starsky cocked a grin. "But I think there might be some more stuff left to learn."
Hutch grinned back and brushed a fingertip lightly across Starsky's eyebrow.
"God, Starsk, I sure the hell hope so."
Turned out they were both right.
Fin.
September 3, 2006
San Francisco, CA
Author: morganlogan
Pairing: S/H
Wordcount: 2,410
Rating: NC-17
Category: FT, h/c (sorta), PWP really
Beta: CC
Summary: Starsky gets into a fix. Hutch helps him out.
Notes: Originally published in the 2006 SHareCon Zine.
Hard Lesson
By Morgan Logan
Ow! MotherFUCK!
The pain spread like fire, and Starsky reached down hastily to try to suss out the damage, but the hurt sharpened to a needlepoint and he took his hand away.
I'm done for, he thought with resignation. Always knew this would happen. Dance on the edge long enough, and sooner or later you fall.
He looked down, keeping the rest of his body almost motionless to avoid another stab of pain, and then he took a despairing breath and called out.
"Hutch? I'm in trouble, man. Can you give me a hand?" Starsky winced with dread, waiting. He heard a clink as Hutch put down whatever he was messing with in the kitchen.
"Yeah, what's up?" Hutch said, rounding the bookshelf. His eyes dropped and he took a look at Starsky's crotch, the inevitable white-toothed grin showing he'd picked up on the score.
"Hutch, I swear to God, if you laugh at-"
His threat was drowned out by Hutch's snickering.
"Dammit! Hutch!"
"Okay, okay," Hutch said, wiping a hand across his mouth. He walked over, eyes still on Starsky's groin, where his dick was inconveniently trapped by his zipper.
Hands on his hips, Hutch said, "You realize I've been waiting for this to happen since I first met you?"
"Just shut up and get me out of this mess, would ya?"
"You're asking for a lot here, buddy."
Starsky pleaded mutely with his eyes, and Hutch nodded, a smile still twisting his lips.
"And wipe off that smirk, Hutch, or I swear I'll-"
"Yeah? You want my help or not?"
Starsky nodded miserably.
Hutch took him by the shoulder and tugged gently. "Come on, get closer to the light."
Starsky shuffled over, trying to keep his legs close together, and wincing at the inevitable pinching bite to his favorite body part. He stopped by the bedside table and waited while Hutch turned on the lamp and sat on the bed in front of him.
"Okay, let's see what we've got here." Hutch craned his neck for a moment and then raised his head to look up at him, the blue sparkle in his eyes decidedly unkind. "Yup, it's stuck, all right."
"Just get on with it, funny man."
He saw Hutch bite the corner of his lip before he reached out, looking a little hesitant. Starsky couldn't help gasping when Hutch took hold of his limp penis and lifted it carefully.
"Ow. Ow ow ow," Starsky chanted under his breath, anticipating another flare of pain. But it didn't come. Hutch just held him gently for a moment while studying the situation.
It should've been weird, having his partner staring at his crotch, holding his dick. In fact, it was weird. Very, very weird, Starsky realized. His earlier flush of embarrassment started to rise again, tingling the sides of his neck. He felt a familiar quiver in his stomach.
"Verrry iiinterestink," Hutch said in his stupid German accent. "Herr Doktor, I belief ve vill haf to...to amputate!"
"Ha. Ha. Ha. You're a scream." Starsky gritted his teeth.
Hutch took hold of something just below the area of concern, his knuckles brushing the underside of Starsky's cock. Starsky held his breath. He felt a tug, too tentative to do any good, and a tiny flash of pain that made him yelp in warning.
"Sorry, sorry," Hutch said. Finally, he seemed to have accepted the seriousness of the situation, because his voice had gone gentle. "I can't see well enough like this. Hold on." Hutch nudged him backward a painful step, and then sank to his knees. His head ducked down and closer, so close that his fine blond hair brushed softly against the tip of Starsky's cock, light as a feather's touch. So soft-
Oh, no. No, sweet Jesus. It was inevitable, Starsky supposed. But the unsettled feeling in his belly suddenly turned icy-hot, and he felt the blood thrumming lower into his groin. His cock twitched in Hutch's hand, and Hutch's head jerked up, his hair again sweeping across Starsky's stiffening flesh to fan the flame. His startled eyes stared up into Starsky's face.
Starsky's dick continued it's inexorable swelling. "Ow. Ow. OW! Oh, shit!"
Hutch's eyes changed and he moved fast, reaching below Starsky's dick to grab hold of the zipper.
"No! Please, Hutch!"
"It's the only way, buddy," Hutch said, firming his lips. He pulled down smoothly.
Starsky hardly even felt it when his poor, abused member was at last freed from its metal prison. He was too busy blushing with mortification. But he felt the stinging throb afterward, like a cigarette burn.
"There," Hutch said with satisfaction, his hand still cradling Starsky's full-blown erection.
"Um."
Hutch looked up, blue eyes guileless. "Better?"
"Uh." Thought was impossible. Speech was impossible. All Starsky was conscious of was the feeling of his cock still resting in Hutch's big hand.
Hutch blinked, then smiled slyly, his eyes dropping down again. "You know," he said conversationally, "that was probably the best thing that could've happened. See, I think you got out of it without too much damage." His hand shifted, thumb sliding around so the webbing circled just below the head. He lifted Starsky's cock and ducked down again to peer at him.
Starsky shivered. Hutch looked for a moment, then raised his head.
"It does look like you got a little pinch though, right below here." His thumb moved down to stroke the underside of Starsky's shaft.
"H-h-h-utch," Starsky's tongue was trapped at the look in Hutch's eyes. Humor, mixed with playful knowledge and a hint of heat. Then Hutch's tongue came out to wet his lower lip.
"Want me to kiss it better?"
This is a joke. He's gotta be pulling my leg. But Hutch was still looking up at him expectantly, his eyes knowing. Starsky took a shuddering breath. "Uh." Fortunately, the offer didn't take too much mental work. "Please...?"
Hutch smiled, a hot smile, full of promise. He bent his head again, and Starsky trembled at the silky touch of the wet tongue right near the base of his cock. Then Hutch's lips left him, and Starsky felt a cooling puff of air. It eased the sting, but made him ache with a whole new pain.
"Oh, momma," he said breathlessly.
But Hutch released him an instant later.
"Hutch?" Please, no. Don't stop now!
"My knees hurt," Hutch said simply. He rose to stand in front of Starsky, and touched his arm. "If you want to keep playing doctor, let's do it in comfort, huh?" His voice was smoky soft, and Starsky couldn't help shuddering again.
"Whatever you say," Starsky managed to stammer out.
"Oh, yeah? Since when?" Hutch gave a laugh.
The familiar banter slammed Starsky back into his body from the weird otherworld he'd been floating in. This was Hutch, his partner, offering to get horizontal and play bed games with him. His best friend, looking down at Starsky's cock, which was still hanging out, defiantly erect in spite of everything.
"Hutch....shouldn't we...talk about this?"
"What's to talk about?" Hutch said, his voice unbelievably easy. He took Starsky's shoulders and turned him, pushing him down onto the bed.
"I mean...shouldn't we think about what we're doing, figure this out, work out a plan?"
That husky laugh. "You're starting to sound like me. You always turn neurotic when you're about to get laid?"
Get laid! "Well, yeah. I guess," Starsky muttered.
"I'll have to remember that."
Then Hutch was unbuttoning Starsky's shirt, pulling it off his shoulders, and flattening him to the bed using both hands on Starsky's chest, big palms and fingers making mincemeat out of Starsky's thought processes. By the time he came back to himself Hutch had already stripped him of his shoes and jeans and was bending over him. He tenderly took Starsky into his hand again, and Starsky gasped.
"Still sensitive?" Hutch asked, sounding too innocent.
"V-very," Starsky said, and bit back a moan when Hutch kissed the spot again, soothing it with his tongue..
"Very," Hutch whispered, and then his mouth was slip-sliding over the head of Starsky's cock like a dream. Like the best wet dream ever, the kind he now remembered having, sweaty and aching so good, rubbing and swirling and Jesus, his mouth.
"Your mouth! Ohhh, Hutch."
Hutch raised his head and said roughly, "You like this? I thought I might be pretty good at it." He took Starsky back in, and his spine arched hard when Hutch took him deeper, soft heat sucking at him wetly.
"Good...yeah. Good," Starsky panted. He bounced his ass against the bed, trying to thrust up into Hutch's mouth. One of Hutch's hands slid under his cheeks to help, lifting him while squeezing firmly. Starsky moaned again. He was getting close.
Then he felt Hutch's fingertips boldly slipping into his crack, seeking....
Oh, yes. Pleasepleaseplease. Starsky spread his legs wider and felt the vibration as Hutch rumbled approvingly. The searching fingers found his asshole, circling the perimeter before one fingertip slipped right in, and the delicious tease was too much. Starsky came, clenching hard around the Hutch's finger, his thighs shaking as his cock jerked endlessly in Hutch's mouth.
"Oh, my God," Starsky moaned, his whole body going limp with relief after the brain-crushing orgasm.
"Better?" Hutch said, his damp hand still curved protectively around Starsky's lax dick.
"Jesus." Starsky felt the mattress shift and opened his eyes with an effort.
Hutch's face hung above him, clear blue eyes gleaming with hunger.
"Kiss?" Starsky raised one feeble hand before dropping it again at the look of startlement that tightened Hutch's cheeks. "What, you can suck my cock but you don't want a kiss?" Starsky said, his voice hoarse with disappointment.
He was taken aback with how fast Hutch lunged at him, his full lips smashing against Starsky's as if he could fuse them together permanently in one heated instant. Starsky groaned and opened his mouth to let Hutch in. He sucked his own taste from Hutch's tongue and felt a twitch in his tender groin.
When Hutch finally pulled back he was panting, and all his playfulness had disappeared, his expression now soft with need.
Did you think this was a game, buddy? Is that it? Starsky lifted his hand again, this time reaching all the way to Hutch's temple and the damp, silky strands there. Hutch closed his eyes.
This ain't no game, babe. Starsky gathered himself and then pushed, rolling Hutch onto his back and attaching his lips to Hutch's neck with a vengeance.
"Oh!"
"All's fair..." Starsky murmured against the sweet, soft skin. He trapped one flailing hand, pressing it down against the mattress. Hutch seemed to give in and accept the turnabout, because he didn't fight it when Starsky got down to the business of undressing him, stripping him fully until every inch of skin was vulnerable to his biting attack. He found a spot just at the crease of Hutch's armpit that made him shudder, and later, at the joining of Hutch's hip, Starsky's tongue danced a delicate path that had Hutch twisting and begging.
"Starsky!" Hutch's wrist turned in Starsky's grip, and Starsky responding by squeezing it hard, stilling it.
"Say the magic words, Hutch," Starsky whispered, his teeth scraping at the taut tendon beneath his lips.
"P-please?"
"Nope. Guess again."
But Hutch just stared dazedly at him, looking completely wasted, as if Starsky had fried his circuits. Starsky felt a thrill of power at the thought. Look what I can do to him.
"Ask me to kiss it better, Hutch," Starsky prompted, whispering it close to Hutch's straining erection. He watched, fascinated, as the skin of Hutch's balls tightened in reaction to his breath.
"Kiss it better. Kiss it better," Hutch moaned.
"What, didn't your momma ever teach you to say 'please'?"
A low growl answered him.
"Okay, okay," Starsky murmured, and he laid his tongue at the base of Hutch's cock, stroking upward in one long, twisting lick that ended just below the head.
"God, Starsk!"
The taste wasn't that different from his own, and Starsky tongued the crown, eager to try more. He heard Hutch gasp, and pre-cum seeped from the tip, slightly salty. Starsky settled his elbow against the mattress and started to suck.
It didn't take long. Hutch was shuddering beneath him, a mumble of profanity streaming from his lips, urging him to suck harder, to take it all. Starsky was pretty sure his romantic, refined partner never let himself say stuff like that to his girls, and he felt a secret delight that he'd reduced Hutch to using such dirty language. He smiled around the shaft in his mouth and gripped Hutch's balls, working the lumps within the tight sac until Hutch shouted and tensed.
Warm stickiness pumped from the swollen head, filling Starsky's mouth. He stroked the thick shaft from below, and Hutch cried out again and then again, his balls moving in Starsky's hand.
Starsky pulled away and swallowed, then bent to lick the last tiny bubble of come from the slit. Hutch jerked and pulled away with a moan.
That good, huh? Starsky thought smugly. He knew how sensitive his own cock was when the coming had been especially intense. Crawling up the bed, he lay beside his partner, who was still breathing heavily, sweat beading his chest.
"Better?" Starsky asked the ceiling.
He heard Hutch give a shaky laugh, and turned his head to meet the pale blue eyes.
"The best," Hutch said, voice husky. Then he reached over and pulled Starsky in for another kiss, noses bumping until they settled into the right position, Hutch's lips pulling at his, sucking gently.
"The best," Starsky agreed, and let his head fall against the pillow. Hutch was still staring at him, a small smile on his kiss-reddened lips.
"Thanks for...the first aid," Starsky said.
"Teach ya not to wear underwear," Hutch said, smiling wider, a glint of wonder in his eyes.
"Oh, yeah, taught me the hard way," Starsky said, making Hutch groan. "But...."
Hutch rolled on top of him, trapping Starsky beneath his warm weight. "But?" he said, sounding a little anxious.
Starsky cocked a grin. "But I think there might be some more stuff left to learn."
Hutch grinned back and brushed a fingertip lightly across Starsky's eyebrow.
"God, Starsk, I sure the hell hope so."
Turned out they were both right.
Fin.
September 3, 2006
San Francisco, CA