The Kissing Contest

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“You’re not even a good kisser,” Hutch said, glancing in his rear view mirror at Starsky, who was lounging in the back seat of the old Ford.

Starsky straightened up and slid forward to crouch behind Hutch. “How would you know that?” he asked, frowning.

“You’re right, Starsk. I don’t know. Why don’t you come up here,” he said, patting the front seat next to himself, “and show me whether you’re good or not.” He turned to look at his partner.

“What? Are ya nuts?” Starsky squeaked.

“I’ve got an idea, Lover Boy,” Hutch announced. “Next time Kathy comes to town, let’s have a kissing contest.”

 

This story originally appeared in the SHareCon 2004 Zine.

This story was inspired by the tag of the Starsky and Hutch episode, “Death in a Different Place.”

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“You’re not even a good kisser,” Hutch said, glancing in his rear view mirror at Starsky, who was lounging in the back seat of the old Ford.

Starsky straightened up and slid forward to crouch behind Hutch. “How would you know that?” he asked, frowning.

Hutch turned to give Starsky one of those looks. It was just a joke; it didn’t mean anything. He expected Starsky to retort, “Whaddya mean? I’m a great kisser,” or something similar. The serious question threw him for a loop.

Now, frowning too, Hutch thought about it a minute. They had kissed each other on the cheek once or twice, as a gesture of comfort, but they had never kissed each other’s mouths. Maybe it was time. He pulled over to the curb.

“You’re right, Starsk. I don’t know. Why don’t you come up here,” he said, patting the front seat next to himself, “and show me whether you’re good or not.” He turned to look at his partner.

“What? Are ya nuts?” Starsky squeaked.

Hutch was amused by Starsky’s reaction, and he was warming up to the idea of discovering the feel of his best friend’s lips, so there was no way he was going to let him off the hook easily.

“What’s the matter, buddy? Afraid of proving to me what all the ladies know–that you can’t kiss worth a damn?” Hutch teased.

“Ya don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Starsky answered, as he sat back in his seat, obviously hurt.

This was not what Hutch wanted. Shifting as far around in his seat as he could, he reached back and squeezed Starsky’s knee. “Hey,” he said softly, and waited for Starsky’s dark blue eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m just kidding, Starsk. This John Blaine thing has really gotten to you, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Starsky replied, looking back down at the magazine he had been leafing through when the conversation started.

Suddenly it occurred to Hutch how he might cheer up his partner. “I’ve got an idea, Lover Boy,” he announced. “Next time Kathy comes to town, let’s have a kissing contest.”

“Huh?” Starsky glanced up from his reading in apparent interest.

Hutch knew that Kathy Marshall, the stewardess who went out and went home with whichever of them wasn’t busy when she happened to blow into town, would be game for a little joint fun with the two of them. “We’ll take her to the Pits, then take her back to your place or mine–it doesn’t matter which,” he said, planning the event out loud. “Then we’ll each kiss her–several times, of course, so she can get enough of a sampling to make an accurate judgment,” he said with a big grin, “and we’ll ask her who’s the better kisser. Sound like a fun evening?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does,” Starsky agreed, finally smiling a little.

“Good,” Hutch said happily, and pulled back into the traffic.

* * *

A Couple of Weeks Later

“Hutchinson,” the detective said brusquely as he picked up the phone. “Hey. Hi, Kathy.” His voice softened considerably, as he looked across the desk to his partner.

Starsky stopped filling out the form in front of him and glanced up.

“Tonight?” Hutch tilted his head up as he watched Starsky, as if asking if that was okay.

Starsky nodded.

“Yeah, that’d be great. We’ll meet you at the Pits at seven…? Good. See you then.” He hung up. “This is going to be fun, Starsk,” he said, pleased with their plans for the evening.

“Yeah,” Starsky answered, sounding noncommittal.

Hutch had been looking forward to this event for the past two weeks, ever since he had gotten the idea for it. It wasn’t because he enjoyed being with Kathy so much, though he did like her, and she was a good lay. No, it was because he was intrigued with the thought of the kissing contest. At first, he just wanted to watch Kathy and Starsky kissing. Soon, however, he moved beyond voyeuristic interest, and started thinking that maybe, somehow, he could get to kiss Starsky himself. He became obsessed with that idea. He found himself surreptitiously staring at Starsky’s lips, wondering how they would feel pressed against his own. Each day, he grew more excited with anticipation, determined to find a way to kiss his partner.

Now the time had almost come; it was just a matter of a couple of hours more. He wondered if Starsky suspected anything. Had he caught him staring? Probably not, Hutch thought, refusing to let anything ruin his good mood.

They knocked off work around 5:30 and Starsky drove Hutch to Venice Place for a quick shower and change of clothes. Even after stopping at Starsky’s apartment so he could clean himself up also, they still arrived at the Pits before Kathy.

After chatting with Huggy a few minutes, the two detectives found a booth and had beers while they waited for the flight attendant, who showed up only ten minutes late. She looked pretty in a pink pantsuit, and her disposition matched her cheery clothes.

Her good spirits were contagious. As soon as she had drunk half her glass of wine, she asked Starsky to dance. Experience had taught her that he was the better dancer of the two men, especially for anything with a disco beat. Normally, Hutch might have felt a pang of jealousy to be left alone at the table while his partner and their friend danced, but this time he was glad that Starsky was relaxing and having fun. Besides, he knew he’d get his chance to dance with Kathy, too, soon enough.

After a couple of hours of dancing, drinking, and eating, Hutch suggested that they all go back to Starsky’s place. He would have invited them back to his own apartment, but he figured Starsky would feel more comfortable in his own surroundings. Kathy didn’t show any surprise at the idea. Whether she thought it was going to be a ménage a trois, or that Hutch would leave after a drink or two, Hutch couldn’t tell.

Starsky didn’t seem surprised at the choice of location either, but the suggestion sobered him up noticeably. He peered intently at Hutch a moment, then voiced his agreement. Throwing some cash on the table, they both escorted Kathy out of the bar.

On the way to Starsky’s, Kathy kept the mood light by telling a funny story about a slightly inebriated passenger on one of her flights. The ride went quickly.

Once they arrived, it took a few minutes for them to take turns in the bathroom and to open a bottle of wine and get out the glasses, but they settled on the sofa together quickly, with Kathy seated in the middle.

“We’re hoping you can help us with something, Kathy,” Hutch said, playing with her long brown hair.

“Me? Sure. What do you need?” Kathy asked, seemingly tickled to be asked for help.

“Well, we kind of have a bet going,” Hutch answered, glancing at Starsky, who was watching him with interest. “We want you to decide which of us is the better kisser.”

Kathy laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, we really want to know what you think. And we want you to do as much research as you need,” Hutch said, grinning.

“Oh…don’t make me choose,” she said, shaking her head. “You know I love you both. I can’t pick a favorite.” She took the closest hand of each man on either side of her and folded them together in her lap. “If I pick one of you, I’ll hurt the other one,” she said, looking in turn from one to the other. “And, whichever of you it is, you’ll wind up taking it out on me in the end. Because you love each other more than you love me…or anyone else, for that matter.”

They both just stared at her for a moment. Then Hutch said, “But Kathy….”

“No ‘But Kathy’s’,” she interrupted. “I won’t do it,” she continued with a smile, shaking her head forcefully. “I love coming to Bay City and knowing I can see either of you gorgeous, fun guys. I love you both the same and you haven’t had a problem with sharing me. We have a great set-up here; let’s keep it that way. The only good reason to pick one of you would be if we were going to get serious, and none of us wants that, right?” She waited for a response she obviously didn’t expect to get.

“Well, so,” she continued, “let’s forget about that silly contest. But I do like the research idea. And…” she looked at each man a moment, then turned to Starsky, “you look like you need a kiss more, so I’ll start with you.” She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

His response was halfhearted.

“Good thing there’s no contest, if that’s the best you can do,” she said, pulling away. “What’s the matter, Dave?”

“Nothin’,” Starsky answered, with a slight smile. “C’m’ere.” He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a decent kiss. And then another, apparently warming up to his task.

Hutch watched them closely, unconsciously licking his lips. He was starting to get aroused, but he suspected that it wasn’t from the anticipation of kissing Kathy.

Hutch had a theory about kissing. Men don’t close their eyes when they kiss unless they’re deeply in love with the person they’re kissing, or they’re imagining that they’re kissing someone else. He knew Starsky wasn’t in love with Kathy at all. So why are his eyes closed? he wondered.

“Mmm,” Kathy said as she released Starsky. “That was nice.” Hardly pausing to take a breath, she turned to Hutch. “Let’s see what you can do, Ken.” Hutch noticed her lips were very red, and it wasn’t all from her lipstick.

Hutch leaned into the kiss, closing his eyes and thinking of Starsky. Realizing he had just demonstrated his kissing theory, his eyes flew open and he broke the kiss.

“Ken? Now what’s the matter with you?” Kathy asked, sounding confused and peeved.

“Nothing. I’m sorry,” he answered sheepishly. He took her mouth in a long, wet kiss, but his eyes focused on Starsky. Surprised to see Starsky watching them with a longing look on his face, he barely managed not to break the kiss again. Encouraged, he gave it everything he had, all the while holding Starsky’s gaze. When Kathy started to pull away, he held her by her shoulders and kissed her some more.

Finally, pushing Hutch away, Kathy gasped for air. “Ken!” She panted for a few moments. She had opened her eyes when he wouldn’t release her, and she had figured out what was going on between the two men. “Okay, that’s it. I’m going,” she announced, finishing the wine in her glass, then getting up and heading for the phone.

“What? Why?” Hutch asked in surprise.

“A kissing contest? That’s pretty funny. Well, you two had better talk. If you can figure out what’s going on here, you’re both winners. If you can’t, you’re big losers,” she said with a smirk as she called for a cab.

Both men sprang up from the couch.

“Wait!” Starsky spoke up at last.

She finished the call, then turned to face them. “Ah, Dave, I think you really don’t know what I’m talking about. You poor thing.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. “But Ken does,” she said with utter conviction. “You’ll explain it to him, won’t you? You know you should.” She gave Hutch a piercing look.

He turned pale. All he could do was nod in agreement.

“Good. I hope you didn’t do this intentionally, Ken. I know some people would say you guys are just using me when I spend the night with either of you, when I have a stopover in Bay City. I don’t look at it that way, though, because I’m having a good time myself. I could just as easily say I’m using you. But I don’t like the idea of being a substitute for someone else. That’s kind of degrading, you know?” She looked at each of them in turn. Opening the door, she stopped midway before going through it. “I’ll be curious to know what happens tonight, so I’ll call you guys next time I’m in town, okay? Maybe you’ll be in the mood to kiss a woman then.” She snickered. “I’ll wait for the cab outside. The air will do me good,” she said, closing the door behind her.

Now even Starsky looked pale.

Silence filled the room oppressively as they both stared at the closed door.

After a minute or two, Hutch finally got up the courage to glance over at Starsky, who was looking at him searchingly.

“Hutch?” Starsky sounded puzzled. “You’re the smart one here, so you’d better explain to me what she’s talking about.”

“Ah, Starsk,” Hutch answered, rubbing his partner’s right arm. He was glad to see Starsky didn’t flinch or step away from him. “You’re smart, too. But this has nothing to do with brains; it’s a matter of the heart. Or soul. But definitely not the brain.” He smiled weakly.

Starsky continued to look at him curiously, but said nothing. His silence unnerved Hutch.

“Look, ever since we had that conversation in my car, after John Blaine died, when you said what kind of kisser…I mean, when you asked how would I know what kind of kisser you are….” He was getting flustered and could feel his face getting hot. “All I could think about since then is kissing you. It’s always on my mind.” Hutch grabbed Starsky by the shoulders and pulled him closer. He instinctively knew how to get Starsky to respond to him. “You’ve got to help me, Starsk.”

The ploy worked. “How?” Starsky asked with concern.

“Kiss me, for crying out loud!” Hutch said urgently, as his mouth approached his partner’s. But when their lips were a mere inch apart, he stopped. “Please?” he begged. As badly as he wanted this kiss, he wouldn’t take Starsky’s mouth without his permission.

Starsky closed his eyes and closed the distance between their mouths.

As keyed up as he was, Hutch almost didn’t feel the gentle pressure on his lips. He tried to kiss back just as softly, but it was so hard for him; he wanted to plunder this mouth with all the passion he now felt inside him. As soon as the first exploratory kiss was done, Hutch initiated another one, not quite as gentle. He was encouraged when Starsky responded in kind; he had been afraid that his friend would stop after only one kiss.

Emboldened, Hutch wrapped his arms around Starsky’s back when the kiss was done, and pulled his body close. He was delighted when he felt Starsky’s arms around his neck and one hand in his hair. He felt hot breath in his left ear, making his heart pound wildly in his chest.

So this is how Starsky’s lips feel, he thought, soft, like a woman’s, but surrounded by a man’s rough beard starting to grow out. Now I have to know how his mouth tastes.

Turning his head to look at Starsky, he saw love. His heart nearly burst in response. He wanted to tell his partner how much he loved him, but was afraid that any talk might ruin the moment. Instead, he covered Starsky’s mouth with his own, slipping his tongue inside the yielding entrance. Trying to bank his passion, he slowly licked the roof of Starsky’s mouth. Immediately, he felt the sensuous movement of Starsky’s tongue against the underside of his own. He moaned into the mouth that was providing so much pleasure.

God, I love this! he thought. He studied the taste. Hmmm. Wine, beer, steak. What else? Something unrecognizable.

Suddenly it dawned on him that the unfamiliar taste was Starsky’s own unique flavor. Giving up on trying to classify it, he simply savored the taste and the experience of making such intimate acquaintance with his partner’s mouth. He knew he had probably just acquired an addiction.

After a few minutes, Hutch withdrew his tongue from its wet paradise. This was perhaps the happiest moment of his life so far, but he knew that if he ever wanted to experience it again, he’d have to make sure that Starsky was enjoying it, too. Opening his eyes, he drank in the sight of the man in his arms. Starsky’s face was flushed and his parted lips were red and swollen. He looked altogether wanton. Hutch wanted to ravish him.

Starsky’s eyes slowly opened, freezing Hutch in place. He wondered what Starsky would say or do now. Was he happy or horrified about what they had just done? When a smile formed on those bruised lips, Hutch’s heart leapt for joy.

“I love you,” Hutch said, as he buried his face in the dark curls. He hadn’t meant to utter it aloud, but the words escaped him. He held his breath, afraid he’d pushed his luck too far with such an admission.

“I know ya do. I love you, too,” Starsky whispered in his ear.

Hutch was rendered momentarily speechless. “Really?” he finally asked into the curls.

“Of course, really,” Starsky answered. “We’ve been best friends almost since we first met at the Academy. I’ve loved you for a long time.”

“No, I mean I really love you,” Hutch said, pulling back to look in Starsky’s eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean? That I don’t love you?” Starsky looked hurt.

“No, no, babe, that’s not what I meant,” Hutch hastened to correct him, softly stroking his cheek. “It’s just that I love you more than as a friend, even a best friend. You’re so…special to me.” He was getting frustrated that he couldn’t find the right words to express himself.

“That’s how I feel about you, too. Don’cha understand, Blondie? We feel the same,” Starsky told his partner.

“Do we, Starsk? I don’t know. I don’t even know exactly how I feel, let alone know what’s in your heart!” He shook his head. “All I know is that I love kissing you. I could do it forever. Is that how a guy usually loves his best friend?”

“Well, it’s how we love each other, and we’re best friends. So what’s the problem?” Starsky asked, smiling.

“You don’t mind that I want to kiss you?” Hutch asked doubtfully.

“Why should I mind? I want to kiss you, too.” When Hutch just stared at him incredulously, Starsky added, “Ya know what your problem is? Ya think too much. Stop thinkin’ about kissin’ me, and just do it!” He puckered up as he pulled Hutch closer.

Hutch returned the kiss quickly, then drew back. “But, Starsk…I thought…I mean, the way you reacted when you found out John Blaine was gay, I thought… How come it doesn’t bother you that we want to kiss each other?” Hutch asked in confusion.

“I dunno. It was the shock of findin’ out John was gay that bothered me so much, not the fact itself. I never cared what two consenting adults did in the privacy of their own home. That’s nobody else’s business. And, anyway, we’re not gay. We just love each other and wanna make out.” He laughed.

“Do you know how ridiculous that sounds, Gordo?” Hutch asked fondly, twirling a dark curl around his index finger.

“Yeah, I guess so. But ya know what? I don’t care. I told ya, ya big blond beauty, you think too much. Let’s not worry about labels or anything else. At least not tonight. Let’s just enjoy this new experience, okay?” Starsky asked as he moved in to kiss Hutch again.

“See, you are smart,” Hutch answered, giving himself up to the pleasure of kissing his partner, whom he loved so much. He could worry tomorrow. Right now, Starsky’s lips were waiting for him.

The End