Hot Nuts

Post-Gunther, Starsky, recovered, returns from a trip back east to attend his brother’s wedding. Both men are eager to be reunited and work on their fledgling relationship, but duty comes first, as they have to immediately go on a long term stakeout.

Written by Lucy writing as Amanda Bradley.

Originally published in the zine Dance With the Devil, published by Lucy and Elaine in 2003

Hutch made the pass at the airport pick up lane as slowly as he dared, letting the taxis and hotel shuttles dash around him. It was his third time and he was still searching the crowd for a dark curly head. “Come on, buddy. Even stopping to flirt with a stewardess, you should have had time to grab your bags and get out here,” Hutch muttered, ignoring the passing taxi driver that flipped him off. Hutch’s comment about the stewardess had been said in jest, but he had to admit it filled his stomach with a flutter of fear. Their relationship was so new, and so fragile, Hutch wasn’t sure what it would take to shatter it, but he knew for a fact that he would never survive the crash.

Starsky had been back to work for only four months after James Gunther’s hit on them had injured him so badly It was a long hard recuperation and Starsky’s determination and single-minded, purpose-driven guts had been amazing to witness. Starsky was coming back to the force to be Hutch’s partner, on the streets just as before, and there wasn’t anything else that Starsky would settle for. Hutch had been beside him every painful and frustratingly slow step. But life did give second chances, after all, and they were back… together… bruised perhaps, but certainly not broken.

In the midst of that struggle, Hutch had found the courage to tell Starsky how he felt about him. The real reason behind the debacle of Kira and why Hutch had fallen into such a state of depression and burn out. The reason? Hutch was in love with his partner, his very straight, very male, partner, and he’d been too afraid of losing the partnership to admit it. Yet he was too blind to his own decline to be aware the partnership was in danger even without his admission.

In light of the daily evidence of his partner’s courage, Hutch eventually bolstered his own and one night over beer and Monopoly had opened his heart.

Hutch chuckled as he always did when he thought of that night. He could clearly remember, regardless of the beers he’d consumed, waiting and watching Starsky’s face for his reaction. What had his partner done upon hearing what Hutch considered his deepest darkest secret? The fucker had laughed, Hutch recalled. Then Starsky had promptly replied, “I wondered when you’d get around to realize that and admit it. Shit, it took you long enough.” Hutch had been slack-jawed and speechless.

That night had ended with the two of them sleeping together, and while they’d crashed at each other’s places frequently over the years, this was the first time they had slept together. Albeit the activity didn’t amount to much, given Starsky’s healing state and their levels of inebriation.

But the relationship progressed, slowly and naturally to things more physically intimate, and Hutch had never been happier. They had yet to actually penetrate one another, but Hutch was sure it would progress to that, too.

Then Starsky had gone back east to be the reluctant best man at his brother Nicky’s wedding. Eight days, Hutch thought and he had missed Starsky terribly. It was the first time they had been apart since becoming lovers, and while they had talked on the phone every day, there was a distance that was undeniable, and Hutch found himself becoming increasingly uneasy and anxious for Starsky to return.

He pulled the Torino over to the curb and parked, figuring he’d risk the airport security people’s wrath for a few minutes at least as he tried to see through the windows to the baggage area in search of his lover.

He spotted the leather jacket first, then the walk… There you are babe, Hutch thought and felt a dizzying wave of relief. You’re home.

Hutch jumped out and popped the trunk before he rushed to meet Starsky coming though the automatic doors with his luggage.

“Hey, here let me help you,” Hutch offered, grabbing the suitcase and taking note Starsky had returned with a guitar case he hadn’t left with. “You buy a new guitar?”

“No, it’s Nicky’s old one. He’s into the electric synthesizer shit now; he’s too good to play the acoustic anymore. It’s a-great guitar, wait ’til you see it, Hutch. I figured the way your place gets trashed by whako’s you could leave this one at my place. You know, so you’d always have one is escrow.” Starsky carefully rested the guitar case in the back seat.

Hutch looked at the big smile gracing his lover’s face and all his earlier worries melted away. He grabbed Starsky in a tight hug, hungrily soaking up the feel of him.

“Welcome home. I missed you!” Hutch whispered into the dark curls the breeze was lifting softly against his face. “I missed you, too, Blintz. Let’s go home.”

“Well…” Hutch hedged. “I have a little bad news about that.”

“What…did my apartment burn down while I was gone?” Starsky asked, looking at least partially serious.

“No, but Dobey put us on stakeout as soon as I picked you up.”

“What?”

“I know… I tried to talk our way out of it, but he wouldn’t budge. A lot of the guys are out for the holidays and there’s been flu going around. We’re really short handed. We have to get over to tag team with Collin and Gates for a stakeout of a house in the canals. Near where I used to live. We’ll get relieved in the morning and don’t have to be back at work until the twenty-sixth. So at least we’ll have Christmas Eve and Christmas off,” Hutch offered, hoping his partner would take the olive branch as it was intended.

“This is not how I envisioned my first night home,” Starsky answered sourly, snagging his car keys from Hutch’s hand and stomping around to the driver’s side of the car.

“I know, me either,” Hutch agreed as he slid onto the passenger seat.

“What time are we supposed to log in?” Starsky asked, palming the wheel and turning into the lane leading to the freeway.

“As soon as we can get there. The guys we’re replacing have been on duty fourteen hours already.”

“Terrific,” Starsky groused.

“I brought you a surprise,” Hutch offered, reaching in the back seat for a paper sack.

“There wouldn’t be a Don Jose’s burrito supreme in there would there, pal?” Starsky asked hopefully.

“No, better than that…”

“Only sex is better than that and it doesn’t come in a plain paper sack either. What is it?”

“Hot nuts!” Hutch pronounced happily.

“What? Hot nuts, as in ‘get ’em from the peanut man, yea, yea, yea?'”

“No. Hot nuts…chestnuts. You know, as in ‘roasting over an open fire.’ My grandmother used to fix them every year at Christmas.”

“You got to be kidding,” Starsky risked a quick glance at Hutch.

“No, you ever eat them before?”

“Nope. I’ve seen ’em in the store, though. When I was a kid anything that cost that much a pound had better moo.”

“I got them at the farmer’s market this morning. Before I knew we were going to have to work, I was thinking we could go down to the beach and roast them over an open fire. But after I got the word from Dobey, I went back to my place and roasted them in the oven. It isn’t quite the same, but they still taste good. They’re still warm, too. See, feel?”

“Hutch, the only hot nuts I want to feel aren’t wrapped up in a paper sack.” Starsky wagged his eyebrows playfully, his dark mood apparently lifting.

“W…w…well, when we get off in the m…m…morning, I’ll see what I can do—” Hutch stammered a little, feeling his face heat with the blush he was glad the darkness would almost cover.

“I’m glad to be home…even if we’re working. I really did miss you, babe. I’ve got so much to tell you,” Starsky said seriously.

“How was the wedding?” Hutch asked, figuring it was a safe enough subject.

“Fine. The girl’s nice, pretty, pregnant, and has no clue what she’s in for being married to Nick. But other than that it was fine.”

“How’s your Mom?”

“Older, and you know, I wasn’t prepared for that. I mean, intellectually I know she’s getting up there. But she’ll always be young in my eyes, I guess. Just sobering to notice that. She walks a lot slower now and her hair’s more salt than pepper. I saw some old friends, too. Not many left. Most of them are dead or in jail.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not.” Starsky’s face was serious in silent repose as Hutch watched his lover, expecting him to say more. The oncoming car lights bathed the dark face in bright light intermittently and still Starsky was quiet.

A short time later, they exited the freeway and Starsky pulled onto the side street at Hutch’s direction. He steered the car to a stop. A half block down the street, the lights came on in a sedan parked at the curb and the dark car slowly pulled up alongside.

“Thanks for getting here. I know you just flew in from back east, Starsky. Sorry, but we’re all spread a little thin. Hope you guys have a quiet night. Merry Christmas, if I don’t see you before then,” Collins said with a yawn and a wave as he rolled up the window and pulled away.

“Yeah, you, too,” Starsky replied as the car was leaving.

“Zebra Three to Victor One,” Hutch said softly into the radio.

“This is Victor One, go ahead.”

“We’re in place at the west end; Collins and Gates just left. Has there been any activity?”

“Nope, quiet as a church and it’s getting cold as a witch’s tit. We’re going to go out of service for a few minutes and get something to eat. Want us to bring you something back, or you want to go out for yourselves later?”

Hutch looked up at the tap on his knee to see Starsky mouth ‘later.’ “We’ll cover you now, and go out for ourselves later on. Thanks anyway. Zebra Three, out.”

Starsky moved the seat back to give them more leg room. “Reach me the guitar, please,” he asked with a motion of his chin to the back seat.

“You’re going to play in here?”

“Hutch, it’s in the forties out there. Nobody has their windows open, our windows are up, and I’ll play softly. I want you to hear something.”

Hutch stretched to reach the guitar case in the back seat and, flipping the latches, he lifted it out carefully and handed the guitar to Starsky.

He fingered the strings tuning it for a few seconds, then began a soft picking.

“I know I’ve talked to you about home…how I felt connected there, but it was never a place I ever wanted to go back to. I’d never live there again. This song really struck me when I heard it. It says it all…I want you to hear it.”

Hutch leaned back against the side window and watched Starsky as he inclined his face toward the strings and began to play and sing softly.

In my little town,
I grew up believing
God keeps His eye on us all.
He used to lean upon me
As I pledged allegiance to the wall.
Lord, I recall, my little town.

Coming home after school,
Flying my bike past the
Gates of the factories.
My Mom doing laundry,
Hanging out shirts
In the dirty breeze.

And after it rained
There’s a rainbow,
But all of the colors are black.
It’s not that the colors aren’t there,
It’s imagination we lacked,
Everything’s the same back
In my little town.

There’s nothin’ but the dead
And dying back in my little town.
Nothin’ but the dead and dying
Back in my little town.

In my little town,
I never meant nothin’,
I was just my father’s son.
Saving my money,
Dreamin’ of glory
Twitchin’ like a finger
On the trigger of a gun.

There’s nothin’ but the dead and dying
Back in my little town.
Nothin’ but the dead and dying
Back in my little town.

Starsky stopped and looked at Hutch. “That’s really the way it is. It’s a dead end, going nowhere. You work at a dead end job just like your Dad did, and his before him. I didn’t realize it at the time when my Mom sent me out here; she was trying to save me from that. After I heard the song, I mentioned it to her. I felt like I needed to thank her.” Starsky rubbed his hand along the side of the guitar for a second. “She knew… I hated what she did, but at least now I can fully understand why she did it. I thanked her and she cried. She was afraid I’d wind up like the rest of my friends. Dead or in jail.” Starsky met Hutch’s eyes. “She was right. I would have.”

“Surely not everybody…what about the guy who wrote that song…?”

“His wife played it for me. He died about three months ago. Shot by the cops when they caught him committing an armed robbery at a liquor store.” Starsky reached over to carefully put the guitar back in the open case. “He left her to raise two kids alone,” Starsky said sadly.

“I had a lot of time to think about things while I was home, Hutch…”

Hutch looked up sharply at the stony profile of his partner. Starsky sat staring out the windshield, unmoving.

“And…?” Hutch asked as he felt his heartbeat speed up in fear-driven anticipation of Starsky’s disclosure.

“Make love to me, Hutch.”

Hutch blinked, unsure for a second if he had heard correctly. “What?”

“I love you. I want you to make love to me. I was wrong to talk you out of it before I left for New York. But I was afraid of it. Not afraid of you,” Starsky hurried to assure. “I was afraid of the physical act, of what it meant. The commitment. Like crossing that last line, and there’d be no going back. Well, I want to cross it. I love you and there ain’t no going back about that.”

“Starsky, we’re working. I love you, too, babe. But I sure as hell don’t want our first time to be in the back of the car.”

“Oh, come on, Hutch. You’ve done it in the backseat of a car before and so have I.”

“What if we get caught?” Hutch continued to reason. “Dobey’d bust us all the way back to walking a beat, if we’d have jobs at all …”

“We’re not gonna get caught. We’ll go out of service like we’re going to make a food run.”

“And go where?”

“To the back of that alley behind us. There’s no street light,” Starsky punctuated his words with a warm hand that ran tantalizingly up and down Hutch’s thigh.

“What about stuff for… I may not know much about it, but I know you need to use something for lubrication,” Hutch offered.

“There’s some suntan lotion in the glove box. That should work.”

“Starsky…”

“I mean it, Hutch. I want you, real bad.” Starsky took Hutch’s hand and drew it down to his crotch and pressed it against the considerable bulge there.

“Now do you believe me?” Starsky asked.

“I didn’t think you were lying. I was just questioning the timing,” Hutch answered, shifting in the seat to rearrange his own blooming erection.

In less than an hour, the radio crackled to life giving them the word that Victor One was back and in service. Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances in the stillness of the car.

“Go ahead,” Starsky said nodding. “Log us out, Hutch.”

Hutch’s hand shook as he picked up the microphone’s hand-piece.

“Roger, Victor One, we copy. Now it’s our turn. Nothing to report while you were gone. We’ll grab a bite and be right back. Zebra Three, out.” Hutch replaced the hand-piece as Starsky started the car.

In no time they had circled the block and returned up the back entrance to the alley and parked in the darkness.

“Starsk, I wish you’d reconsider,” Hutch said as he dodged the guitar case Starsky plopped in his lap effectively emptying the back seat. “I mean, what if I hurt you or something goes wrong. We’d have a hell of a time trying to explain a trip to the ER for this. I don’t think workman’s comp would cover it.”

Starsky was all but ignoring him, hastily dropping his jeans and briefs and rolling into the back seat. “It’s okay. You’ll be careful. Come here.”

Hutch rolled over the seat to join his partner who was already positioning himself on all fours.

“It’s not like it’s my first time…” Starsky said, his voice slightly muffled.

Hutch had just placed his hands on Starsky’s hips when the comment froze him.

“No, wait, that’s not what I meant. It is my first time with a person…”

Hutch felt his eyebrows reach to his hairline. “What?”

“I went to a gay book store in the village…” Starsky hesitated, then… “I bought a dildo. I practiced a little while I was gone. Felt like in fairness to you, I needed to know if I could do it.”

Hutch felt his erection come back with a vengeance and the mental picture of Starsky and a dildo almost tore away his tenuous control.

“You should have seen all the different ones they had. Man, some of them were as big as your…”

“Starsky—!” Hutch hissed sharply. “Shut up!”

The order was met with a soft chuckle and Hutch took a minute to take a few deep breaths and try to calm down. He squeezed some of the suntan lotion onto his hand and coated his fingers. Placing a kiss on Starsky’s low back he spread the globes in front of him and moistened the small puckered opening. He carefully probed the tight opening with the tip of his finger. Starsky eagerly pushed back, driving Hutch’s invading finger in deeper.

“Come on, babe. We don’t have all night and I’m not made of glass. I swear. Just do it!”

“I won’t risk hurting you. We’re gonna take it slow and safe,” Hutch insisted.

Hutch eased out and returned with two fingers and was blown away to find his lover was just as responsive as he had been originally. It became more and more difficult not to give in to Starsky’s encouragement that he get to the main event. He was amazed at seeing Starsky writhing in passion in the darkness and hear the moans of his desire fill the car.

Hutch reapplied the lotion and inserted three fingers this time and noticed Starsky moved a little less vigorously for a few strokes.

“Are you okay with this?” Hutch asked, concerned.

“Yeah, just feeling the stretch. Come on. I want to feel you, and not just your fingers.”

Hutch could feel that Starsky was becoming more relaxed, his thrusts again apparently welcomed.

Hutch withdrew his hand and liberally coated his shaft. His hands trembled as he aligned himself with Starsky’s opening. He pushed in just past the initial resistance and waited, allowing Starsky’s body to become accustomed to the invasion. “You okay?” Hutch asked again.

“I will be when you get all the way in. Keep going,” Starsky said. His voice seemed calm compared to the tensing up of the muscles of his back and the tight vise of the channel where Hutch was partially impaled.

Hutch eased out a fraction and Starsky’s hand slammed into his hip. “Don’t you dare stop! You hear me? I want this. I want you. Come on. It’s okay, push.” Starsky rocked back to help the process, his hand holding Hutch from any further withdrawal.

“Okay, okay…just relax then, relax and let me love you.” Hutch rocked gently forward feeling himself slide in a little deeper. His next rock was met by Starsky pushing against him and he slid almost half way in. “That’s right, we’ll get there. Oh, God you feel so good. I can’t believe this. I want this, too. I want this to be as good for you. I love you.”

“I know you do. I can feel it. It’s getting better, you are making it good. Keep going, I want to feel you in my soul.”

Once Hutch was completely inside, it felt incredible. Hot and tight, the urge to stroke hard and fast was almost overwhelming. He leaned over Starsky’s sweaty back and nuzzled kisses in his neck, desperate to maintain control.

“I love you, magic man. Thank you for giving me this. Oh my God.” They began to move. Starsky moved with him, leaning back to increase the depth of each stroke. Hutch reached to wrap his fingers around Starsky’s erection and stroke in a counter rhythm.

“Oh God, Hutch. You feel so good. Angle up a little—” Starsky requested, and when Hutch complied Starsky rose up from where his head had rested on his forearms to push stiff-armed backward hard and fast. “Oh God, yes, just like that. Oh, fuck…I can’t… I’m gonna… Oh, God. I’m commmmmiiiinnnnggggg” Starsky moaned loudly and Hutch felt the hot wetness on his hand at the same time he felt the incredible spasms milking his cock from inside Starsky’s body.

“Oh my God…Starsk…” Hutch rode out the blinding waves of pleasure, driving into his lover as he climaxed, then folded over Starsky’s back as they both gasped for breath.

When Hutch gently pulled out, reaching for a few tissues from a crushed Kleenex box on the backseat’s floor, he glanced around. All of the Torino’s windows were fogged up and he started to laugh.

“What…” Starsky said as he accepted a handful of Kleenex for himself.

“It looks like we’re at the drive-in,” Hutch said. “Check out the windows.”

Starsky raised his head and ran a finger down the one nearest him. “I guess we heated up the place pretty good. We’ll have to drive back with the windows down to cool off the car in case one of those guys comes back to talk to us.”

“You okay?” Hutch asked raking his long fingers through Starsky’s disheveled curls.

“I’ve never been better, babe. How ’bout you?”

“I think I like your idea of hot nuts better than mine.”

“I’m glad, but where is that bag? Those things smelled good. I’m starved and it’s a cinch we don’t dare risk taking the time to go get real food.” Starsky rolled back into the front seat and began pulling on his clothes. Once dressed he handed Hutch the guitar case and began feeling around the seat and the floorboard.

“Found ’em,” he announced with delight as he opened the bag and sniffed the rich nutty aroma.

Hutch scrambled back to the front seat and, reaching in the bag, withdrew a chestnut. Peeling back the scoured covering, he held out his fingers to Starsky’s mouth. Starsky opened and accepted the sweet nutmeat with a lick to Hutch’s fingers for good measure.

Smiling around the nut as he chewed, Starsky began to sing the old rock and roll song, “Nuts, hot nuts, get ’em from your peanut man…” then pounced on Hutch to give him a enthusiastic chestnut flavored kiss.

In a matter of a few minutes the Torino was back in place for the stakeout with two very satisfied detectives in the front seat and no one else the wiser.

Hutch cupped the flashlight tightly against Starsky’s wristwatch, to charge the luminescent dial, then holding Starsky’s wrist up he saw in the enhanced glow that it was well after midnight.

“It’s officially Christmas Eve,” he said. “When we get home in the morning, you can have one of your presents early since you’ve been such a good boy.”

“I get the impression you think I’m going to like it,” Starsky’s voice purred suggestively.

“Oh yeah, you’ll like it. Just like you did the hot nuts.” Hutch let his fingers run up the inside of Starsky’s thigh as both men laughed softly.