Part two from the Episode Series.
Missing slash scene from Savage Sunday.
This is the second story in what I am optimistically hoping will be a series with one slash scene from every episode.
Hutch glanced out the Torino’s passenger window and noticed it was close to dusk. They’d spent longer than they’d planned to at the Eastside Home for the Aged. After Counselman Brown had taken his hurried leave and the food Huggy had provided came out, the formerly quiet Tuesday lunch had turned into a party. Unsurprisingly, his partner had been the life of the party. Charming, funny, even dancing with several of the women once Huggy had found the radio and an oldies station. Hutch smiled and then whistled a bit of Moonlight Serenade.
“For a musical guy you sure don’t like to dance,” Starsky said. “You could have had your pick of any of the ladies there today. ”
“I didn’t want to risk stepping on one of their feet,” Hutch replied, glad Starsky was talking. He’d been too quiet during the drive. “I’m okay with my hands and arms during a slow dance, but my feet get me into trouble every time.”
“Hm. I’ll have to show you how it’s done someday.” Starsky pulled the car in next to Hutch’s cottage. “Okay, you’re home. I hope you enjoyed our weird day off.”
Hutch laughed but didn’t open his door. “I did enjoy it, Starsk. This was one of those rare days where we were able to make a difference; to do some good.”
“I’m not sure how much good we did,” Starsky said sourly. “We manipulated Brown to cough up a few bucks to improve the food in that rat-trap. I’m not sure that qualifies as doing any real good.”
“It’s a start. I mean, I know it’s not the new roof and structural repairs they need. It’s not going to make their social security checks any bigger, or make their kids come visit them more often, but it’s a start,” Hutch said.
“Spoken like the true idealist you are.” Starsky gave him a wink, one that Hutch knew was meant to take the sting out of his words. “Get out now, you live here.”
Hutch remained in the car. “What’s bugging you, Starsk? You’ve been quiet ever since we left Eastside, and now you’re, well, I’m not sure, but I know something’s bugging you.”
Starsky squared his shoulders a little and smiled at him. “Nothing for you to worry about, partner, I promise. Have a good night and call me tomorrow if you still want to go to that ski shop for the sale they’re havin’. Maybe our second day off can be better than our first.”
“I still say our first was good,” Hutch said, feeling the need to press a little.
“Why are you still sitting in my car?”
Hutch shot him a look. “Knock it off, Starsk, and come in with me. Have a beer.”
Starsky shook his head but turned the engine off. “Fine, if I need to get out of my car in order for you to get out of my car, I’ll go drink a beer.”
“It’s good beer,” Hutch said as he exited the Torino. “You made a wise choice.”
“Funny, doesn’t feel like I had any choice at all.”
~*~*~
Ten minutes later the partners were sitting on Hutch’s couch, beers in hand, and shoes kicked off. Hutch had found the same oldies station on his radio that Huggy had found earlier that day, and On the Sunny Side of the Street was serenading them.
“My mom used to love this song,” Starsky said, sounding a little less tense than he had in the Torino. “She used to clean the apartment floor to ceiling every Sunday morning and she’d always play stuff like this while she worked.”
Hutch loved to hear any tidbit from Starsky’s childhood. He knew all the big events already–Starsky had shared them with him almost from the start–but he didn’t share the little details as freely, and those interested Hutch just as much since they’d all had a part in making the man.
“What did you and Nick do while all this cleaning was happening?”
“Ma would give Nicky her cloth napkins to iron, and I’d polish the silver,” Starsky answered. “I mean, it’s not like we had a ton of silver or nothin’, so it didn’t take me long, but I did a good job.”
Hutch nodded, imagining old sliver and a determined little boy polishing it to a shine. “Did Nick whine about the ironing?”
“Nope, he liked it. He always liked his clothes to be ironed real sharp, too.” Starsky quirked his eyebrows and smiled a little sadly. “Which is kind of weird when you think about it, ’cause he sure didn’t grow up to have a wrinkle-free life.”
“He has time, partner,” Hutch said. “He could still surprise you.”
The music changed to an instrumental version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.
Starsky was fidgeting with the label on his beer. “They played this one earlier today. I was dancing with Sarah.”
“I remember,” Hutch said. “I was talking to Henny and trying to get him to stop trying to tell me where he scored the dynamite from.”
“Sweet old coot.” Starsky leaned back against the cushion. “Bet he doesn’t have a clue how close he came to spending the rest of his life behind bars,” he said. “And Sarah, too. What a dumbass thing to do.”
“You’re right, it was a dumbass thing to do, but see that’s part of why I feel good about what we were able to accomplish, Starsk. We didn’t just get their food budget increased, we had a real part in keeping that sweet old couple out of prison.”
“Are we so sure that prison would be much worse than where they’re livin’ now, Hutch? Stuck in a falling down junk of a house, with a whole lot of other old, poor people. Hell’ve a way to spend your golden years.”
Now Hutch knew they were getting closer. “Is that what’s bugging you? That they’re poor?”
“Yeah, some of it,” Starsky answered. “I feel bad for them and all, especially the ones without a husband or wife with them. God, how lonely they must be, huh? But this case made me worry for my mom, too. I mean she’s okay now. She has her own apartment and plenty of friends close by. She manages on my dad’s pension and her social security, and I send her money for the extras, but what if she got sick? What would I do? I don’t have any real money. How would I take care of her? How would I keep her out of a place like Eastside?”
Hutch blew out a breath. This was more serious than he’d been anticipating. “That’s a lot for you to be worrying about, buddy. Especially since it might not ever happen. Your mom is as healthy as a horse, you’re always telling me that, and like you said there’s the pension.”
Starsky looked at him sadly. “I’m not sure you can really understand this one, partner, although I appreciate you trying.”
Hutch heard what he was not saying loud and clear: your parents are loaded.
“Okay, finished my beer and now I’m heading home.” Starsky put his empty bottle on the coffee table and reached for his shoes. “Stupid of me to have taken these off for just one beer.”
Hutch was still mulling over what Starsky had said and what it meant, so he was startled by him wanting to leave right then. He scrambled for more time. “Maybe you can stay for another beer. Or a soda. Or maybe you can stay the night?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “It’s been a while since we’ve spent the whole night together. We could play cards, maybe talk a little more–”
“Maybe have sex?” Starsky asked bluntly.
“Where did that come from?” Hutch asked, trying to not sound angry, and wondering if he’d sent off some secret signal.
Starsky smiled at him fondly. “Don’t be pissed. It’s not like I’ve never brought up some extracurricular activities when we have the time and opportunity.”
“But that’s not what I meant, Starsk,” Hutch said, and hoped he was being honest with both of them. “I just think we can both use the company and some relaxation, and, you know, the night.”
“We’re supposed to be careful about sleepovers.” Starsky was still sitting on the couch as he spoke, but he looked hesitant. “It’s one thing if one of us is sick or hurt–nobody would question us being together for the night, then, but without a good reason if somebody catches us there’d be hell to pay.”
“Who’s going to catch us?” Hutch asked. “We haven’t given anybody any reason to be suspicious. It’s not like we even fool around that often, and afterwards one of us usually goes home.”
“Usually, not always.”
“No, not always,” Hutch agreed, “but you’re forgetting how many times one of us has had too much to drink and we normally stay over then. Why don’t you ever worry about those times?”
Starsky sighed heavily. “I dunno, Hutch. I just don’t. That feels different and doesn’t make me nervous.”
Hutch decided to turn the conversation around. “Okay, forget spending the night. And forget sex, that’s off the table, but let’s just finish this conversation. No sex, no beer, no dinner. Just talk. Thirty more minutes and then I’ll kick you out.”
Starsky stood up. “I’m not sure what exactly you think you’re gonna pull out of me, but if you wanna talk, we’ll talk, but let’s go to the kitchen table.”
Hutch got up, too. “Fine, but why the table?”
“Because we should be looking at each other for a serious talk, and we can’t do that sitting side by side on the couch.” Starsky pulled out a chair when he reached the table. “Sit down across from me.”
Hutch detoured to the icebox first and grabbed a fresh beer for himself. When he joined Starsky at the table his partner narrowed his eyes at the frosty bottle. “What?” Hutch asked. “I’m not driving anywhere tonight.”
“You can be so mean… okay, what else do you want to talk about?”
“Nothing else, Starsk. Same topic. I don’t like knowing you’re worried about your mom, or even about Sarah and Henny. We have so much stress just doing our jobs…I don’t like knowing you’re carrying even more stress. I mean, I know how much you love your mom and I know about the extra money you send her occasionally, but I didn’t know you were worrying about her future.”
“I don’t worry all the time,” Starsky said. “Mostly, I know she’s good–for now. It’s just that Sarah and Henny made me realize I’m not planning for her future financial security. Hell, I’m not planning for my own.”
Hutch took a sip of his beer, then handed the bottle to Starsky who gave him a small smile before he took a sip of his own. “Maybe we could do that together?” he asked.
“Do what?” Starsky took one more swallow and handed the bottle back.
“Plan for the future,” Hutch answered. “Your mom’s financial future. Your financial future. Maybe we can get some solid plans down on paper and that might make you feel better.”
Starsky gave him a long hard look. “I’m gonna be a cop for the rest of my life, Hutch. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to be.”
“I know that. What does that have to do with financial planning?”
“It has everything to do with it!” Starsky said angrily. “Everything! Doing what I love to do for a livin’ is never going to bring in the kind of money that people need to do any future financial planning. I’m making a living, that’s it.”
“Starsky, that’s just dumb,” Hutch said, ignoring Starsky’s raised brows. “First of all, we make more money than a lot of people do.”
“Not by much,” Starsky said. “Unless you’re comparing us to minimum wage workers?”
“Geez, when you get in a mood… No, I’m not comparing us to minimum wage workers. You know we make a good living, well, a decent one.”
“But not the kind of one that makes you rich,” Starsky said sadly. “Or even gets you into the upper middle class.”
Hutch sighed and wondered if he should share some of the downside of being in the upper middle class, the one he grew up in. Quickly, he decided to stay focused on the matter at hand. “True, but it is enough to save a little money on. Not a lot, and maybe not out of every paycheck, but we can put some by.”
“You know I try to do that.” Starsky reached for the beer bottle again. “My checking and savings accounts are in the same bank yours are. I just don’t put as much in the savings one as I wish I could.”
“So, let’s make a plan on how we can get more in there,” Hutch said determinably. “I need to save more, too, so it will be good for both of us to live on a budget.”
“A budget, huh? Sounds like fun,” Starsky said, but he sounded a little more hopeful. “You really think we can fatten up our savings accounts?”
“I really do. But, Starsk, if anything happens with your mom and she needs more money than we have in our savings accounts, we’ll find more.”
“We, huh?” Starsky asked. “Hutch, I’m not going to drag you into any financial problems, if any happen. My mom is my responsibility.”
Hutch felt some color rise in his cheeks. “Yeah? Well, that may be so, partner, but you’re my responsibility. If you’ve got a problem, I’ve got a problem. Same as always.”
“Me and Thee, even with money?” Starsky asked and Hutch could hear a little hitch in his voice. “You know, you were raised a WASP, you’re supposed to be careful with your money.”
“I guess we can chalk that up to another failure of my upbringing, then, because I don’t have any interest in being a WASP.”
Starsky laughed at that. “You might want to take a look in the mirror, buddy, I think that ship has sailed. Besides, don’t you make the same the same amount as me? Just where would either of us come up with some huge pile of emergency money, even if we start saving like crazy right now?”
Hutch noted that once again Starsky was not mentioning his parents, probably assuming that Hutch would never go to them for a handout. He was wrong, though, if Starsky needed money Hutch would go to them on bended knee and be grateful to take any shit they gave him along with the cash. Starsky didn’t need to know that, though. There was something else he could do before he had to take that step. “I can always sell the land my granddad left me. It might take a little while, so maybe we’d have to scramble while it was being sold but after that we’d be okay. It’s a lot of acreage.”
Starsky stared at him for a full ten seconds. “You love that land! That’s your inheritance! I could never… Hutch, you love that land!”
“Love you more,” Hutch said simply.
Starsky left his chair and went to Hutch, resting his hands on Hutch’s knees. He leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. “You’re really sexy when you’re being stupidly sweet.”
Hutch smiled. “So, we have a plan and now you can stop worrying?”
“That’s not a plan, it’s a nuclear Hail Mary, and I hope to God I never have to ask you to throw it. The plan is that we both start shoving more money into savings. That’ll drop my worry back out of sight.”
Hutch felt relief wash over him as he watched Starsky’s face relax and he knew this was behind them for now. “Wanna make it interesting?” Hutch asked, grinning hugely. “Let’s make a bet and see who can be the first to save $2,000.”
“And what does the winner get, a piece of the loser’s not quite $2,000?”
“Or a piece of something,” Hutch said, tapping Starsky’s hands off his knees so he could rise. “And now our thirty minutes is up, and I’m a man of my word–get out. Go home.”
Starsky sat down in the chair Hutch just vacated. “I’m not really in the mood to go home right now.”
Hutch narrowed his eyes at his partner. “Cards?”
“Nope, not in the mood for cards.”
“Monopoly?”
“Nope, not in the mood for monopoly, either,” Starsky said, and laid a hand on his fly. “Got any other suggestions?”
“No, I don’t, because if I did you’ll feel manipulated in the morning, like I planned this or something and that’s why I said sex is off the table.”
“We’ve never had sex on the table,” Starsky said, and rubbed the hand over his fly provocatively. “Have we?”
“You know damn well we haven’t, and we’re not having it on the table now. Sex is off the table!”
Starsky gave his crotch a little squeeze and gracefully got to his feet. He stood next to Hutch and lightly trailed his fingertips down Hutch’s cheek, then moved to the window and pulled down the shade. “You’re right, Hutch, the table would be stupid.” Starsky moved to the lamp by the couch and switched it off. “You’d probably fall off the table and bruise your sexy ass.” He started to unbutton his shirt. “Yeah, the table makes no sense at all when we’ve got a perfectly good bed right over there.”
There was now only one light burning in his cottage, but Hutch could still see Starsky clearly. He was beautiful and lusty and ready for some special fun, the kind of fun they tried to keep to a minimum. After all, they weren’t gay, they both loved women, they just also loved the occasional romp with each other. It was harmless fun, maybe even stress-relief, he thought. Maybe it even strengthened their partnership?
Hutch had gotten a little lost in his thoughts, so he didn’t notice that Starsky was now standing by the bed.
“You comin’?” Starsky asked, and he drew the bedspread down.
“Not yet,” Hutch answered, moving quickly to his partner. “But I bet you can do something about that.”
They both laughed and went to work on each other’s belts and zippers. Pants, underwear, and socks came off at almost the same time, then Starsky removed his unbuttoned shirt and reached for the hem of Hutch’s turtleneck. “Raise your arms.”
Hutch did, and in seconds his turtleneck was mingled with the rest of their clothes. He pulled Starsky in close and ran his hands up and down his partner’s bare back. “It’s always so hot to be naked with you.”
“Hmmm,” Starsky purred in agreement, his hands petting Hutch’s ass while he started a slow rub against him with his cock. “Let’s see how hot we can get. Climb into bed.”
Hutch crawled in slowly, flexing his butt cheeks because he knew what Starsky wanted to see and he wanted to make sure Starsky had a taste of everything he enjoyed tonight.
“Stay like that for a second, don’t lie down,” Starsky ordered. “So gorgeous, you’ve no idea.”
Hutch stayed on his hands and knees and felt Starsky move behind him. In moments, Hutch felt Starsky’s cock–warm and hard and demanding–rub up and down his crack. It felt delicious and shocking and Hutch felt his cock surge even as his muscles stiffened. They’d never done that. Hutch had never even considered it.
“Relax, babe,” Starsky said, continuing to rub. “Don’t get tense, we’re not doing that. I just wanted a feel.” Starsky pulled back a little. “Lie down.”
Not knowing if he was feeling disappointment or relief, Hutch crawled onto the mattress and laid on his back. He opened his arms wide and Starsky filled them. “Thought you might be feeling a little adventurous.”
“Our regular menu is plenty adventurous for me,” Starsky said, and reached for Hutch’s cock. He gave it a long, appreciate stroke. “You got good and big from just a little feel.”
“Kind of a sensitive area you were feeling up, Starsk.” Hutch closed his eyes and enjoyed the tight fist Starsky had on his cock. “I could show you?”
Starsky released his hold. “You want me to get on my hands and knees for you?”
“No,” Hutch said. “You don’t need to do that, just get on top on me and spread your legs. I could show you with my fingers. Show you how sensitive you are there, too.”
Starsky didn’t say a word, but he did lay on top of Hutch, chest to chest, and he gave Hutch a nice slow kiss while he spread his legs wide.
“Yeah, just like that,” Hutch whispered. “All relaxed and open for me. Let me show you how good this will feel.” Hutch captured Starsky’s eyes with his own, while his hands roamed down Starsky’s back until they reached the luscious globes of his ass. There he lingered and squeezed and petted, all while holding Starsky’s gaze. “God, your ass…love your ass.” His fingers started at the top of Starsky’s crack, slowly, as slowly as he could manage he made his fingers dance until they reached the warm, damp, mysterious hole. He circled it lovingly, tantalizingly, until he stroked the center hard and fast and felt Starsky’s heart beat hard against his chest and felt Starsky’s breath coming out in gasps on Hutch’s face.
“Oh, goddamn, Hutch, that feels so good…incredible.” Starsky began to grind against Hutch’s thigh, and Hutch kept up his stroking. “More!”
Hutch used the heel of his hand on the hot hole, separating Starsky’s globes as far as they would part while Starsky continued to grind. “Do you still want more,” Hutch whispered, feeling his own cock begging for attention. “Do you want to finish like this, or do you want to slow down a little and finish in my mouth?”
The grind against Hutch’s thigh stilled to a stop, and Starsky let out a little groan. “You got me so hot, so fast… that’s quite a little trick there.” Starsky took a few deep breaths and rolled off of Hutch’s chest. “I’m not finishing anything, though, until I get you caught up and feeling just as hot as I am right now.”
“I feel pretty hot, partner,” Hutch said and put one hand on his balls and the other around his cock. “I think I’m caught up.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Starsky climbed to his knees and then positioned himself between Hutch’s legs. “Let go of those,” he said, swatting at Hutch’s hands. “I’ll get you off all by myself and you can just lay there and take it.”
Hutch laughed, and that part of himself that he would never admit existed, thrilled to Starsky’s commanding tone. “I’ll take it, Starsk, I’ll take it… do it hard!”
Starsky took Hutch’s needy cock in his left hand. “I know how you like it.” With that, Starsky’s wonderful hand moved hard and strong, faster and faster, base to head until Hutch felt light headed and knew he was writhing under Starsky’s firm control but was absolutely unable to hold still as the delectable stroking went on and on.
“Here we go,” Starsky said. “Give it all to me, Hutch, give me every last drop.”
Hutch’s cock spurted over and over, while Starsky continued to pump him dry, to turn him inside out. Moments later, his breath still coming fast, Hutch was vaguely aware that Starsky was murmuring something at him and tried to rouse himself enough to respond. “Whadda ya say?”
Starsky laughed. “I said, no sleeping on the job, Hutchinson, you’ve got work to do.”
“I do?” Hutch asked stupidly, then memory returned. “Oh, yeah, I’ve still got you to do.”
“That’s right,” Starsky confirmed, “and I’ve been simmering the whole time I was getting you off, so hop to it.”
“Hop? You want me to hop right now?” Hutch shook his head. “I’m not even sure I can make a fist, but for you I’ll try. C’mere,” Hutch said and reached out a hand.
“You don’t even know which way you’re reaching,” Starsky said. “We’ll have to work on the order we go off next time, if you turn into a noodle so easily.”
“It’s really your fault, Starsk,” Hutch said helplessly. “I saw stars!”
Starsky sighed. “Do you think you can open your mouth up wide?”
Hutch gave it a cautious try and was happy to find that he could do it. “Yes, I can do that.”
“Good,” Starsky said. “You just open your mouth and I’ll do all the work.
Hutch kept his mouth open and waited while Starsky manipulated him into a halfway sitting position and shoved a bunch of pillows behind his back. He then put each knee on either side of Hutch’s chest and stuffed himself inside Hutch’s mouth. “Mmmfffmmm,” Hutch said.
“Shhhh,” Starsky said. “This won’t take long.” Starsky slowly rocked back and forth on his thighs, using one hand to guide himself in and out of Hutch’s mouth. “I’m really close, but you should feel free to use your tongue for a second if you’d like.”
That got Hutch moving. He was letting his partner down, and he couldn’t do that. He gently pushed at Starsky’s chest until he disengaged him.
“Hey!” Starsky cried. “That’s not fair!”
“No, it wasn’t,” Hutch agreed. “I’m coming back to life now, so let me see if I can do you right.” Hutch motioned for Starsky to get on his back while Hutch stretched out next to his groin. He used his tongue to slide a wet trail up Starsky’s bobbing erection. “Let me see if I can make you see stars, too.” Hutch covered his teeth and went down on Starsky with a vengeance. Sucking hard and using his hands to play with Starsky’s impossibly tight balls.
Starsky was right, he was very close, and before Hutch thought he’d even really gotten started, he felt Starsky’s hands clutching his head, pulling at his hair, trying to get him to pull off but Hutch wasn’t going to let that happen. Starsky was going to come in his mouth and Hutch was going to swallow every drop.
“Hutch, babe, Hutch…” Starsky sounded frantic, and that made Hutch happy. He gave Starsky’s balls the tiniest squeeze and relaxed his throat for the explosion.
“Hutch, Hutch, Hutch,” Starsky cried out softly. “Hutch, damn….”
Hutch’s mouth was filled with Starsky’s briny, salty flavor, a taste he loved and craved, although he’d never told Starsky that. He released Starsky’s spent cock, and gratefully felt Starsky’s arms pull him up, and then his head was resting on Starsky’s chest. How did Starsky stay so strong after an orgasm, Hutch wondered, then filed it away with all the other questions he’d maybe ask Starsky one day.
“Not bad, huh?” Hutch asked, when he had enough breath to speak. He felt Starsky’s arms tighten, and Hutch pressed his cheek into the soft fur on Starsky’s chest.
“Partner,” Starsky said. “That was one rockin’ good time. I can’t believe I almost went home tonight and missed all this.”
“We had a good talk, too,” Hutch said. “You would have missed that if you’d gone home, and then I would have wondered what was up with you all night.”
“Yeah,” Starsky agreed, “it was a good talk, and the sex was spectacular. My definition of fun.”
Something pricked at Hutch’s heart, but he ignored it. “Yep, good, clean fun. Um, do you want to make sandwiches or something? Are you staying?”
Starsky kissed Hutch’s forehead and gently pushed him aside and got out of bed. “Better not stay, Hutch. Why push our luck, right?”
Hutch watched as Starsky found his clothes and headed for the bathroom. “Right,” he called after him. “See you tomorrow, Starsk.”
“Sleep good, babe,” Starsky said, and then the bathroom door closed.
The next story in the series is Defining a Subculture.
Have any thoughts?
Share your reaction or leave a quick response — we’d love to hear what you think!
