You’ll Be Sorry

Just a short slashy scene without any plot or substance. Just for fun.

This was originally a scene in another story of mine, but it didn’t seem to fit with that story. After a list friend read it by accident and liked it, I decided that others might like it too, so I re-wrote it a bit as a stand-alone scene.

Hutch got to the house first and beat Starsky to the bathroom. He locked the bathroom door, smiling but ignoring his irate partner who was knocking on the door and calling him a cheater.

“Sore loser,” he mumbled with a smirk as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. He turned the water on, successfully drowning out Starsky’s complaints.

After he showered, Hutch came out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around him. He absent-mindedly dried his hair with another towel.

“Your turn, Starsk.”

No answer.

The place wasn’t that big, and Hutch could see most of it from where he was standing. But he didn’t see his partner anywhere. An uneasy feeling came over him. They were on vacation, but that didn’t really matter. Who knew what thugs might be around waiting for them to let their guard down. Damn, Hutch thought, just once it would be nice to feel safe, really safe. But that wasn’t really possible with their job.

“Starsky . . .” Hutch called as he moved into the bedroom. Empty. He was starting to feel a little queasy. No sign of a struggle, he thought. Maybe he went outside to enjoy the ocean view.

Just as he turned around to go check out his theory, Hutch was jumped from behind and pushed face down into the bed.

“Gotcha!”

Hutch realized then – a little too late – that Starsky had been hiding behind the bedroom door.

Hutch had one arm pinned underneath him on the bed, and couldn’t move the other arm because of the way Starsky was laying on top of him. “C’mon, Starsk, let me up.” He thought he’d try reason first, especially since there didn’t seem to be any other alternative at the moment.

“Say you’re sorry.”

“For what?” Hutch asked exasperatedly into the sheet.

“For taking the shower first.”

“Hey, I can’t help you’re slow.”

“Say you’re sorry,” Starsky said with a menacing tone.

“C’mon, Starsk . . .”

“Okay, that’s it,” Starsky said, lifting himself for a split second just long enough to pull the towel off of and out from underneath his surprised partner. He re-positioned himself quickly, most of his weight on Hutch’s back, and his strong legs wrapped tightly around his partner’s longer ones. He rubbed his hand warningly over Hutch’s ass.

“Starsky, stop it,” Hutch said with as much authority and dignity as he could find, which wasn’t much right now.

“No, way.” Starsky was grinning. “I gotcha right where I wantcha, babe.” With that, he slapped the left cheek hard with his hand. He couldn’t really reach the other one the way he was laying, and if he moved, Hutch would have him.

Hutch flinched under him, but didn’t make a sound. His face was buried in the bed.

Starsky slapped the cheek again, harder this time.

Hutch flinched again, and moaned a little. He didn’t move though. Starsky knew he had an advantage over Hutch in this position, but he didn’t really think he could hold his partner there – that is, unless Hutch wanted to be held. I don’t have that much leverage, he thought, shifting his weight a little as a test.

Hutch still didn’t move. His face was still pressed into the bed. The fingers of his free hand were clenched in the bedspread.

Starsky slapped the same red cheek again three times in a row. Hutch flinched with each slap and moaned again on the last one. Starsky smiled a little. “You like that, don’t cha, babe?” he said softly.

Hutch didn’t answer.

Starsky moved again, completely off Hutch, and lay stretched out on his side next to his friend. He could reach the other cheek now, and he slapped it hard. Another moan, but still Hutch didn’t move, and there was nothing holding him down now.

Starsky resumed the spanking, applying a few more strokes to the right cheek to catch it up with the left. Both were pretty red now. Starsky rubbed his hand over one at a time, and said softly, “See what happens when you steal the shower and don’t say you’re sorry.”

Hutch still didn’t speak.

“Are you sorry now?” Starsky asked, still rubbing the red cheeks.

Hutch lifted his head, so Starsky could clearly hear the one defiant word, “No.”

Starsky was a little surprised, but he smiled a little at that. Want some more, do ya?

Starsky slapped him hard again, and Hutch flinched and hid his face in the bed again.

Starsky kept up the spanking, alternating between slapping the now blushing cheeks, and gently rubbing away the sting. He continued to ask for an apology, but he never did get one. Hutch was moaning more and more now, and finally he was begging.

“Starsk, please . . .”

“What cha need, babe?” Starsky asked, stretched out beside his partner, whispering the words seductively in Hutch’s ear.

Hutch shivered with his whole body at Starsky’s breath in his ear. He could feel Starsky’s cool hand on his ass, which was burning as much as his cock. Then the hand was moving up over his back and was in his hair. Then Starsky was kissing his neck and down his back.

“Starsk, please . . .”

“Please what?” Starsky asked with a smile.

“God, Starsk, I’m gonna die if you don’t do something.”

“Just tell me whatcha want.”

“Anything . . . something . . . I don’t care.” With that Hutch rolled over, and Starsky was confronted with what he had created.

He was a little surprised, even though he was pretty hard himself, but Hutch was huge and weeping. “Wow,” he breathed. If he had known how Hutch would react, he would’ve found a reason for a spanking sooner.

Hutch clutched his fingers in the sheet to keep from doing something about it himself. He really wanted Starsky to do it. His eyes were shut. His butt and his cock were on fire with want and need. “Please, Starsk . . .” he pleaded again, opening his eyes now.

Starsky saw the hungry, almost painful, look in the cool blue eyes, and realized the urgency. But when he took Hutch’s swollen, weeping cock gently in his hand, his blond partner nearly jumped off the bed.

“Shh,” Starsky whispered soothingly, “Easy, boy. I got ya now. I’ll take care of ya”

He kept up the soft, soothing whispers, as he stroked Hutch’s cock. Seems so right somehow, he thought. Before Hutch he had had no experience being with another guy, but it just seemed so natural with Hutch. He just did it the way he liked it himself.

And it didn’t take long because Hutch was already on the edge.

“Oh, Starsk . . . ” Hutch whispered hoarsely, and let out a long, low groan of completion as he came all over Starsky’s hand. Starsky could feel the energy seep out of the warm body next to him, as Hutch relaxed all the way down to his toes, nearly melting into the bed.

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Starsky’s face. It felt so right. Hutch was so completely his at times like these. Starsky knew that it had little to do with sex really. He just felt so filled up when he was with Hutch. So complete. That reminded him of a line he had heard somewhere. He couldn’t remember where he’d heard it – a movie maybe – but it seemed so appropriate.

“You complete me,” he said it softly, but out loud, not whispering now.

Hutch was still feeling like mush. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to move again for a month.

Finally, he found some strength to open his eyes and found the dark blue eyes gazing at him with such . . . warm, undisguised, unconditional love. Hutch swallowed hard and closed his eyes again. He felt overcome sometimes by that love. Like putty in the hands of the master.

He even had a hard time accepting that love sometimes because he felt somehow that he didn’t really deserve it. But Starsky could always set him straight. Starsky would always somehow make him understand that he was worth it.

Nobody had ever made him feel worth it before.

But what they had – he and his partner – was pure and sweet and strong . . .

“You complete me.” Starsky’s voice echoed in his mind.

Yes. How perfectly simple. Yet perfectly true.

Hutch opened his eyes again then and gazed into his friend’s dark eyes and he hoped with everything he had that Starsky could see what was in his heart. He wanted Starsky to always feel as warm and loved and complete as he made Hutch feel.

Hutch raised his hand and touched his friend’s face lightly. His words were soft and gentle, simple but complete.

“I love you, Starsk.”

And Starsky could plainly see all that Hutch had hoped he could.

(PS: But since Hutch couldn’t know that for sure, he’d have to show his partner just how much he was loved later – when he got his strength back : )