Starsky’s Halloween

78

Starsky makes plans for Halloween, Hutch gets carried along.  A little light hearted Halloween treat.

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It was a week to Halloween and Starsky didn’t have a costume yet. Hutch tried to tell his lover that that was okay.

“What do you need a costume for? You aren’t going trick-or-treating. And it’s not like we’re going to a party or anything.” But Starsky was determined.

“We’ll be going to The Pits after work, right? And Huggy’ll be having a party. We should show up in costumes.”

“Well, I’m not wearing one,” Hutch said emphatically.

“You are just no fun,” Starsky pouted.

“No fun at all,” Hutch agreed.

“I think I want to be a vampire,” Starsky went on thoughtfully. “I already have fake fangs.”

Hutch shuddered. “Reminds me of that Nadasy creep.”

Starsky ignored him. “You can be my victim.”

“I thought you were afraid of vampires,” Hutch pointed out, ignoring him in turn.

“Only the real ones,” Starsky said seriously. “Not the Halloween ones.”

“Starsky! There are no real vampires! Only sick whackos like Nadasy who think they’re vampires!”

Starsky went back to ignoring Hutch. “I’ll wear all black and the fangs, and get some makeup and fake blood… yeah, it’ll be great. I’ll get a cape too.”

Hutch sighed. “You’re really going to do this?”

“Yeah, really! And I want you to be my victim.”

“Absolutely not.” Hutch was emphatic.

“Please Hutch!” Starsky pleaded. “It’s a real simple costume.”

Hutch sighed again. “How simple?”

“A bloody wound on your neck with some of the fake blood dripping. That’s all.” He looked at Hutch hopefully. “Please?”

Hutch looked at Starsky’s puppy-dog eyes. “Oh all right. Just that and no more. I can wear my own clothes?”

“Yeah, sure, Hutch. And maybe a little makeup to make you look paler.”

“Starsky…” Hutch said warningly, pointing his finger.

“Just a little, that’s all. You’ll see! It’ll be great!” He smiled wickedly. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Hutch subsided, grumbling, but did not object.

As the week passed, Starsky got busy on his costume. He purchased a cape, and fake blood, and grease-paint makeup at a costume store, and dug out the shiny black shoes he had once meant to wear in a dance competition. He found black pants and a black turtleneck in his wardrobe and started practicing making up his face in the evenings.

Finally on Halloween he was ready. He donned his black clothing and the cape, and made himself up, chalky white with gray sunken eyes, and red lips with a drip of the fake blood. Then he turned to Hutch, who had been watching him in amusement.

“Okay, Hutch, your turn. Bring that tasty neck of yours over here.”

“If you insist,” Hutch muttered. He was wearing a flannel shirt open at the collar.

Starsky grinned around his fangs. “Yeah I insist. Who else am I going to be biting besides you, my big beautiful blond?”

He started making Hutch up, adding a little gray pallor to Hutch’s normally healthy complexion, and making a fairly realistic wound on his neck with the fake blood and some flesh colored putty.

When he was done, he had Hutch stand beside him in front of the mirror. “There, don’t we look great?”

“I gotta admit, Starsk, you did a good job,” Hutch said, with real admiration.

“Thanks. I learned somethin’ about stage makeup when we did Camille in high school. Now come on, lets get to The Pits.”

The Pits was crowded with people in costumes. Starsky and Hutch spotted Huggy by the bar and worked their way over. “Hey Huggy, trick or treat,” Starsky chimed out.

Huggy wasn’t wearing a costume, just a flashier, more colorful version of his usual attire. “Hey there, my brothers, Happy Halloween! What treats may I get Count Dracula and his minion?”

“I don’t drrrink… vine,” Starsky quoted, in his best Bela Lugosi voice.

Hutch snorted. “I know you’ve been dying to use that line ever since you started this.

“I do drink beer, though,” Starsky added, in his normal voice, ignoring him. “Gimme a Bud.”

“The same here,” Hutch put in.

“Two Buds it is,” Huggy said, getting them each one. They took them and went to find seats in the crowded bar.

They spent the next few hours nursing a few beers, eating ‘Huggy Special’ burgers, and doing some dancing, though not, to their regret, with each other, since they had to be careful. The department was relaxing its rules on gay cops, but they weren’t ready to come out just yet.

Finally though, Starsky signaled he had had enough Halloween fun. The crowd was starting to thin out, and Huggy had announced the winners of the best costumes, which, to Starsky’s disappointment and Hutch’s relief, they had not won. And both men were a little tired, having worked all day already.

So they said good bye to Huggy, and made their way to the Torino. Starsky took out the fangs and Hutch started peeling off the fake bloody wound.

“Hey! I worked hard on that!” Starsky complained.

“I can’t leave it on forever, Starsk. And it itches.” He tossed the used putty in the ash tray.

“Oh all right,” Starsky said grumpily. Then he brightened. “But you did enjoy yourself, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” Hutch admitted. “Some of those costumes were very creative. And,” he continued, “don’t forget. You said you would make it worth my while to let you make me up.”

Starsky chuckled ominously. “I haven’t forgotten. Wait til I get you home.” He put on his Lugosi voice again. “I vant to suck your…” he paused dramatically, “bloood.”

“A little more than that, I hope,” Hutch said dryly.

Starsky just chuckled again. They parked at the apartment they had shared since Starsky recovered from Gunther’s shooting and got out of the Torino.

Starsky took hold of Hutch in a fierce embrace and kissed him passionately, and Hutch responded equally passionately. Their tongues met and mashed together, but then Starsky slid his mouth across Hutch’s face and down his neck to where he had put the fake wound.

He playfully bit Hutch’s throat and kissed and sucked at the spot. Hutch moaned. “Oh Starsk… oh yes…”

Starsky pulled back and away. “We should go inside,” he said huskily. He stepped to the door with a flourish of his cape. “Velcome to my home,” he said in the Lugosi voice again. “Enter freely, and uf your own vill.” He opened the door and ushered Hutch in.

As soon as they were in, and the door closed and locked, he was on Hutch again. He pushed him back against the door and down onto the living room floor. He stripped off Hutch’s flannel shirt, pausing only to undo the buttons, and moved his mouth over his chest, biting and sucking at his nipples. Hutch moaned and reached for the fastening of Starsky’s cape, but Starsky batted his hands away.

“No Hutch, you’re my victim tonight remember? I’m Count Dracula and you are my minion.”

“Anything you say,” Hutch gasped. “Just don’t stop.”

By now Hutch was rock hard in his jeans and humping hard against Starsky’s body. Starsky moved down Hutch’s abdomen, tracing a line towards his navel, tonguing and nibbling and sucking hard.

“Not going to stop,” Starsky murmured. “Going to make you mine.” He unbuckled Hutch’s belt and unfastened his jeans, then slipped his hands inside and started working the jeans down. The black cape billowed around him as he moved.

Freed from it’s captivity in the jeans, Hutch’s cock stood firmly up, fully erect and engorged. Starsky stroked it, pumping up til he was leaking precum. Then he put his mouth down over it and licked the tip. Hutch gasped.

“Oh yes, please, Starsk…” he whispered.

Starsky took Hutch full in his mouth. He sucked hard, and then lapped and nibbled on the throbbing member. He didn’t actually bite, but ran his teeth slowly and sensuously down the length. Then he returned to sucking.

Hutch writhed under Starsky’s attentions, his hips rising and falling rhythmically as Starsky held him and ran his tongue up and down while using his hands to cradle his balls and play with them.

Finally, in a crescendo of moans and whimpers, Hutch came with a rush of cum down Starsky’s throat. Starsky sucked it down and swallowed the entire load, Hutch fell back on the floor, gasping and sweating, his pants around his knees.

“Now, my minion, you are mine. I have sucked your essence.” Starsky intoned in the Lugosi voice. “And it’s your time to show your gratitude for my attentions.” He directed Hutch’s hands to his crotch, where he was himself fully erect and hard.

“Oh yeah,” Hutch muttered. “Whatever you say.” He unfastened the black pants and freed Starsky’s cock. Then he in turn took Starsky in his mouth and, far more gently, sucked and fondled his member.

He pumped him with worshipful hands, and sucked and lapped his balls. Starsky moaned softly, and twisted and gyrated under Hutch’s loving touch, his pelvis shaking with passion as Hutch took his entire length down his throat.

Finally, it was Starsky’s turn to cum with a gasp and a shout of release as he shot his load down Hutch’s welcoming throat.

For a long time the pair just lay on the living room floor, tangled together, the black cape pooled around them. Then Hutch pulled himself up, and pulled his jeans back fully on.

“Happy Halloween, Babe,” Starsky said, pulling his pants back up too. “All treats, no tricks.”

“Happy Halloween, Starsk,” Hutch replied. He gave Starsky a hand up. They leaned together for a moment. “Come on, lets wash off this makeup and get to bed. It’s after midnight, Halloween’s over.”

Starsky sighed. “Yeah.” Then he brightened. “But I’ve got this great idea for next year’s costume…”

Hutch shook his head. “Here we go again.”