Turn About

Silence Hutch challenge.

Something had to give.

Correction, Hutch had to give.

All because Starsky had nuzzled some information out of Long Legged Alma. Or rather, out of her ear.

Geez, Hutch’s slept with suspects and informants while on a case. Granted, that was before they were lovers.

But still… this silent treatment shit was a crock.

All afternoon he’d basically been ignoring Starsky, who tried everything.

He offered Hutch a bribe of his onion and sauerkraut ladened hot dog; tried to antagonize him with mindless chatter and useless information; even tried a knock-knock joke – only to get a withering glare for the latter.

Hutch had to snap out of it before they got home, or at least before bed.

Just because Hutch was giving him the silent treatment, didn’t mean that he couldn’t hear him.

Time to put phase 1 in action, Starsky thought with a dawning plan.

“I’m taking off, Hutch. My reports are done and we’re off tomorrow. I’ve got a headache. You drove separately, so you can find your way home.”

No response. Not even a glance upward from his own paperwork.

“Hutch? Did ya hear me? I’m…going…home.” Starsky enunciated each word carefully and for effect. Mentally, Starsky crossed his fingers. “Do what you want.”

That got a response, albeit a non-verbal one. If Hutch’s eyes were daggers, Starsky’d be needing first-aid real bad right now.

~~@~~

Hutch fumed as he drove home.

His unreasonable anger had died down during the course of the day, but when Starsky left abruptly, leaving him to pick up the pieces with Dobey, it came back.

He knew the jealousy was unwarranted and spiteful, but he couldn’t help himself. Watching Starsky’s eyes light up when his arms went around Alma’s middle and the way he snuggled up to her, his groin nestled tight against her and his hips wiggling just so… that green-eyed monster broke free of the chains he kept it tied to in his mind and heart. It was just that Hutch knew how those arms felt, how that mouth tempted his sanity when it nibbled his ear and neck, how that bulge between his legs tantalized and teased his body and his sanity. To see those charms poured onto another – especially a female – turned Hutch so jealous that if he had a mirror he would see his eyes change from sky blue to golf-course green.

So many times Hutch had doubts and concerns that his lover missed the alluring softness of the female form and that he – his hard bodied partner – would always be just short of enough.

So he was more than prepared to forget and make it up to his partner when they got home, but he didn’t want to just give in, especially at work and in front of all the other cops, so he decided to wait and surprise Starsky at home. Ha! Those plans went out the window when his partner decided to leave him to give their oral report to Dobey and the anger surged anew.

He wasn’t giving in, he kept telling himself. No way. Not until Starsky explained why he left him alone. They were partners Goddamnit, and Hutch believed Starsky’s headache excuse like he believed Nick was a legitimate businessman.

During the half-hour drive, his anger seemed to simmer. The whole day was just a crap shoot. Might as well start over from dinner. Don’t want to go to bed angry.

But when he arrived home, everything was closed up and dark, including the front door. Starsky never locked the door when he was home, even alone. For an instant Hutch worried that his silent treatment and jealousy had done more damage than Starsky’s flirting could ever do.

Seeing the envelope taped to the front door with his name on it, did nothing to ease his concern.

One sentence was all that was written on the paper inside… Blondie, don’t say a word. Just wash up and come into the bedroom.

The affectionate title was all it took to calm Hutch’s fears…’Blondie.’

As Hutch made his way into their home, he realized that it wasn’t completely closed up and dark. The dining room lights were on dim, and the light above the kitchen sink appeared to be on. There was the flicker – probably candlelight – coming from their open bedroom door, and the sound of smooth jazz – one of his Vic Rankin albums Hutch realized – wafting down the hallway.

After finishing his necessities, and putting on his robe over his briefs, Hutch walked into their bedroom across the hallway, to find Starsky standing there with nothing on up a towel wrapped around his hips.

He opened his mouth to apologize, all thoughts of frustration, anger and jealousy gone; whipped away like amnesia upon seeing the husky, muscular and tight body.

Starsky strode forward and placed his finger over Hutch’s lips, “Shhh…” he instructed. “Not a word. I’m gonna take care of you tonight and I don’t want a sound from you.”

Any sound? Hutch raised his eyebrow in question.

“Any sound. Promise?” Starsky confirmed with Hutch’s nod of agreement. He set his hands on Hutch’s chest and drew them up his shoulders and down his arms, barely skimming the golden skin. He grasped Hutch’s right hand with his left and led him to the bed, nudging him down.

As Starsky knelt next to his sitting partner, he leaned in and lightly kissed Hutch’s lips, grasping the lower lip between his teeth and pulling gently.

As he pulled away, Hutch reached up with his hands and grabbed Starsky by the sides of his head and pulled him down for deeper kiss, tongues searching for and finding the touch and comfort of each other. Hutch leaned back onto the bed pulling Starsky with him, reluctant to let go.

Starsky reared back while pulling the towel from his waist, “My show. Remember…not a sound, Hutch.” And then began Starsky’s oral mapping of Hutch’s body.

From his earlobe down the long neck to circle the small moles on his neck. Small, tender bites of Hutch’s collarbone; a long swipe of tongue down his sternum and back up to burnished nipples. Starsky nipped, sucked and flicked them before continuing down to explore Hutch’s belly button and lower belly.

Nips and licks to the muscle that connected Hutch’s legs to his torso, and behind the knees gave him further torment. A quick glance up by his partner reminded him of his promise to keep quiet. Tender kisses back up the sides of his thighs gave Hutch an indication of Starsky’s next target.

And when his lover finally brought tongue to cock, Hutch had to place a balled fist to his mouth to hold back the words and sounds of passion.

After spending what seemed like hours licking, suckling, and scrapping his teeth lightly up and down his lover’s cock, Starsky pulled away and glanced up at Hutch. His eyes were closed tightly and his teeth were clenching down on his fist. Hutch’s breathing was deep and heavy, his face and chest flushed with passion. This is more of a turn-on then I thought! He realized as drank in his lover’s passion-filled body.

Starsky adjusted a pillow beneath Hutch’s head and straddled his partner. He knee-walked up to Hutch’s shoulders so his buttocks rested against his partner’s chest. “Open up, babe. I’ve got something to keep your mouth filled and keep you quiet.”

Obeying Hutch opened his eyes and mouth, letting Starsky feed him his burgundy red, pulsating cock.

Starsky hissed at the overwhelming sensation of heat and wetness, “Only for a few, gotta make it last.”

When sucking on Starsky, Hutch usually liked to hum, knowing how the vibrations affected his partner and made him lose it, however it wasn’t possible this time, so Hutch settled for making slurping and sucking noises. This is harder than I realized.

Too soon, the sensations were too much for Starsky to handle without losing it – both his senses and his semen. He pulled back and covered Hutch’s face with kisses, diving into his open mouth as if he was deep sea fishing with his tongue.

Shimmying back down Hutch’s body, Starsky helped him turn over and proceed to pay oral homage to his back, his shoulders, the small of his back…his underside of his buttocks.

Rubbing those buttocks with his hands until they were red with warmth, Starsky then parted Hutch’s cheeks and delved intimately with his tongue to gently lave the oracle of their passion. Paying homage to the receptacle which would take them to the peak of their love.

Beneath Starsky, Hutch was having an even harder time, biting into the pillow his cheek was mashed into. The voice in his head and passion in his body screamed to be released out loud. Oh, God! I can’t take this! Please, Starsk…

Sensing that Hutch was reaching his limits, Starsky gently urged him over onto his back. Another gentle kiss as he reached for the tube of lubricant; another gentle swipe of his hand down Hutch’s chest. He watched Hutch’s face as he slowly and tenderly prepared his lover for entry. The beautiful blue eyes were closed again, trying to hold in the emotions he could tell were overwhelming Hutch.

Fingers delving, probing and burrowing inside him caused Hutch to hold his breath and gasp several times, the only way he could verbally express himself; yet still keeping his promise to Starsky.

He opened his eyes, sensing that Starsky was ready; he, himself was more than ready. The sensations of his body stretched to their limits, with his self-imposed silence adding to the waves of feelings that crashed upon him like waves upon the shore in the aftermath of an earthquake.

As Starsky entered his body, Hutch exhaled long and slow, as if Starsky’s penis was pushing out the air in his lungs to make room for it. The feeling of fullness in his lower body was not of one of physical fullness, but of being filled with love.

Time seemed to stand still as they gazed into each other’s eyes; yet was belied by the fast approaching peak their bodies were yearning to reach.

While Starsky pumped his love into Hutch with the pistoning force of his fluid hip motion, he reached down with his right hand and rubbed Hutch’s cock as it throbbed against his body.

He wasn’t under a vow or order of silence and he made his feelings known in several grunts; some “I love you”s in sync with his pounding action; and finally in one long breathy sigh of “Hutch”.

Stifling a groan, Hutch tipped over the edge of passion’s peak; spilling the milky product of passion onto his belly. Swallowing that groan was one of the hardest things he ever did, but oddly it added to the orgasmic sensations pulsating through his body.

Starsky was mesmerized by Hutch’s throat as he watch him gulp back the groan. He leaned down to capture the movement of Hutch’s Adam’s apple beneath his lips.

The shivers of Hutch’s body as it released all the feelings it was unable to hold, sent Starsky reeling past the point of no return.

Starsky collapsed as his strength was poured out into Hutch. He snuggled on his side next to his lover, soothing blond strands between his fingers. He reached behind him and grabbed the towel he’d been wearing earlier to wipe down Hutch’s belly and the sweat from Hutch’s face and still-heaving chest.

“You are beautiful, babe. Especially now lying there all glistening and glowing. Still mad at me?”

Hutch was unsure if he was allowed to speak, so he shook his head ‘no’.

“You can speak now, Hutch.”

Gathering his thoughts from his still reeling mind, Hutch reached up and stroked Starsky’s cheek, a finger tracing around the mole near Starsky’s eye. “Wasn’t really mad. Just…jealous, I guess.”

“You’re not mad I wouldn’t let you talk or anything?”

Hutch smiled into those dark blue eyes that knew him so well. “You kidding? The silent restriction just intensified everything. All I can say is…Wow… And thank you. For all that love.”

Starsky grinned impishly. “Well then, maybe we’ll make that a permanent requirement.”

Abruptly, Hutch reared up and over to lay on top his partner. “Don’t even think it, lover of mine. Next time it’s my turn to impose something on you.” And he nudged a growing hardness against Starsky’s belly; his cock showing interest in the idea forming in his mind.

Like handcuffs…