Chapter Text
“Just ordered dinner. We got thirty minutes, Blondie.”
Hutch grinned, knowing what his partner was suggesting but didn’t lift his eyes from his book. Starsky scooted closer on the sofa as Hutch made a show of licking the tip of his index finger to slowly turn a page.
“Hear what I said?” Starsky gave him soft pecks along his ear.
Hutch bit his lip and hummed as he continued reading.
“That must be a helluva book.” His lips traveled down his neck. “Or maybe I’m losing my touch.”
Hutch kept his eyes on the page as he replied, “Maybe you’re not touching me in the right place.”
Starsky’s hand traveled up his thigh, fingernails scraping against dark brown corduroy. Hutch’s grip on the book was relaxing, and he pulled it out of his hand and laid it open on the table.
Hutch guided him onto his lap and stroked his thighs as he straddled him. “All eyes on you, huh?”
"Just those beautiful baby blues, please.”
Hutch’s hand glided under his t-shirt. “Well…since you’re using manners…”
He lifted the hem of Starsky’s shirt and stroked the dark hair on his stomach as he kissed him. “What can I do for you?” Hutch nipped at his bottom lip. “Since you have my undivided attention.”
His hands cupped his ass and gave it a good squeeze, making Starsky sigh.
“Suck me off, baby.”
Hutch smiled. “You like that, huh?”
“Mm-hmm. I know you like it, too.” Starsky gripped at his blonde locks. “Tell me, darlin’.”
Hutch pressed his lips against his neck and purred. “I love sucking your cock, baby.”
“Jesus…”
“Love how it fills up my mouth. I wanna swallow you up…”
“Fuck, Hutch. You’re killin’ me.”
They kissed again, hungrier now that their hands were exploring. Hutch guided him onto his back and unbuckled his belt as he kissed his stomach.
“Thirty minutes?”
Starsky checked his watch. “Twenty-eight now.”
He felt his zipper being pulled down at an agonizing pace. “You tease…”
Hutch giggled again as he pulled his jeans past his hips. “Patience is a virtue, Starsk.”
“I did say ‘please,’ remember?”
He felt his briefs being pulled down and then a pause. “Why’d you stop?”
“You’re not hard.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah. Not even a little.”
Starsky raised up on his elbows and sighed. “I don’t—”
Hutch took his cock in his hand. “It’s okay. I’m not new at this.”
He laid his head back as he felt lips envelop him. “That’s it, baby. Ah, your mouth feels so good.”
Hutch pumped his cock in his palm and licked his lips before sucking him. He moaned softly, hoping the vibrations would do the trick, but after a couple of minutes of trying, Starsky remained flaccid.
“Maybe you’re tired, hon. It was a long day.”
Starsky groaned. “I don’t feel tired. I feel horny.”
He felt his briefs being pulled up and then Hutch kissed him.
“We can try again later,” he assured him. “Maybe food will do the trick.”
They had a good dinner and watched TV before turning in for the night, but the result was the same.
Starsky fell asleep on Hutch’s chest but was awakened in the middle of the night by a muffled scream in his head. Hutch was still sound asleep, and the bedroom was quiet.
He put on his robe and stepped outside onto his patio, closing his wet eyes and breathing in the cool night air as his heart thumped.
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The next morning
It had been years since the incident. The dreams didn’t last long after that, though; Starsky had pressed them way down into himself in order to forget, and he had…until now.
The dreams had never affected his sex drive before, but last night was embarrassing. Although Hutch said he was fine with it, Starsky wondered if, deep down, he was actually disappointed and went to sleep unsatisfied.
That’s what irked him the most: the fact that he couldn’t give his partner every ounce of pleasure he deserved.
“You okay?”
Hutch’s voice snapped him out of it and Starsky realized he was staring in the mirror, the hot tap of the sink running as he held a razor.
“Yeah, I was just…” He put down the razor and wiped his dry face before flinging the towel onto the edge of the sink. “I think I’ll shave tonight.”
“You sure you’re okay, hon?”
Starsky turned and kissed him. “Yeah…”
He gently pressed him against the wall. Starsky’s hand went to Hutch’s semi-hard erection. He moaned as he stroked the shaft, and Hutch sighed against his lips.
Starsky closed his eyes and a muffled scream returned.
“Dallas!”
He pulled away from his partner, gasping.
Hutch’s bright eyes grew wide. “What is it?”
Starsky blinked and wiped his hands on his robe. “Nothin’. We’re gonna be late.”
“Are you sure you’re—”
“Yeah, babe, I’m fine. We gotta go.” He saw the slight frown on his face. “How 'bout we go to the gym tonight?”
He kissed the corner of his mouth. “Late tonight.”
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That night was indeed late as they pawed at each other under the hot water in the locker room shower.
Hutch pushed Starsky against the wall and positioned himself behind him, his thick cock pressed against his ass.
He growled into his dark, wet curls. “You ready for me, baby?”
Starsky laid one palm flat against the tile. “Been ready all day, tiger.”
He reached down to stroke his cock but sighed.
“Shit…”
Hutch kissed the nape of his neck. “What is it?”
Starsky gulped as he gripped himself. “Nothin’. I’m ready.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah, come on, baby.”
He was still flaccid as the tip of Hutch’s cock pressed into him, and he grunted at the sharp pain.
“Relax.”
“I’m trying…”
Hutch tried again but stopped when he gasped. He reached around and took him in his hand.
“Starsk?”
“I’m fine.” He didn’t mean for his tone to be terse like that, but this was getting ridiculous. Two nights in a row?
“Are you nervous we’ll get caught?” asked Hutch. “We can go to the car...or to my place.”
Starsky didn’t want to do that. He wanted to make love with his partner right in that moment, wanted to give himself over for his pleasure, wanted to hear his satisfied moan against his wet skin as he came inside him.
They had fucked in the shower room several times. Why was tonight different?
“What the hell is wrong with you, Brooksy?”
“Tell me what I can do for you, baby.” Hutch’s voice sounded far away from him.
The bright flash of white from that morning blinked against his brain.
“Why you such a square? You need to lighten up, man."
Starsky froze.
Hutch waited as he watched him stare at the blue tile and then took him in his arms.
“Please talk to me.”
Starsky knew it wasn’t fair to hold back from his partner. They shared everything.
But not this. What for? It was a long time ago. What difference did it make for them?
Why should it ruin their night?
Starsky turned and grasped Hutch’s hard cock and began pumping it with his slick, soapy hand.
Hutch moaned and braced himself by placing his hands on the wall. The tile was cold against Starsky’s back as he stroked and kissed him, his own cock still soft.
He did everything he could to keep that white light and dead voice from returning. He sucked Hutch’s neck, pulled his hair, slapped his ass; anything to keep his thoughts and Hutch’s hands away from him.
He began to worry if he was going too far until Hutch started thrusting into his grip.
“Starsk…baby…I’m gonna…ah! Yes!”
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Two days later
“You got a girl back home, Dallas?”
“Ha, yeah. Tammy. Gonna ask her to marry me on our first leave back.”
“Before we get shuffled out, huh?”
“She didn’t want me to join, ya know, but I wanted to make my old man proud. Kinda family thang.”
The knocking on his desk woke him and Starsky’s feet slipped off the edge.
“You’ve been studying that file for a while,” said Hutch as he grinned. “Let’s do lunch. I’m in the mood for a burger. My treat.”
Starsky closed the folder that had fallen to the floor and threw it onto his desk. “Yeah. Sure…”
The burger was good and greasy like Starsky preferred, but he couldn’t eat it all and caught Hutch’s glance as he wrapped it back in the paper and set it on the dashboard.
“Am I hallucinating?” Hutch joked. “Is Dave Starsky finally too full?”
Starsky hummed as he smirked but gave no reply.
Hutch put down his drink. “Something’s wrong.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“So you keep saying. In the meantime, you space out while you’re working, and you barely said two whole sentences since we left the station.”
Starsky bit his cheek. “Why stop there, Hutch?”
He sighed. “What do you mean?”
“You can say it. I’m not dumb to it.”
“Don’t do this, please.”
“’Starsk, you’re not satisfying me, hon!’ There…how hard was that?”
Hutch frowned. “Is that why you’ve been down lately? Because of—?”
“Well, what else could it be? I’m in my thirties and I can’t keep it up long enough to satisfy you.”
They were quiet for a moment until Hutch said something that made his heart drop.
“Maybe I’m not satisfying you.”
Starsky snapped his gaze. “Are you kiddin’? I’m crazy about you.”
"I just wanna help you.”
"I don't need help. It’ll pass.”
“Or something is actually wrong. Maybe a doctor can—”
“I’ll be fine, Hutch.”
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It happened again, and Starsky took out his frustration on his partner's neck.
Hutch gasped and clutched at his soft curls as teeth bit him.
“Starsk…” he whispered as his other hand gripped at his back. “Ow…easy.”
He sucked at his collarbone as he pulled his arm down and held it to the mattress.
“You like it rough…”
“Yeah but you’re going a little hard tonight.”
It was almost funny to him how the word hard affected him like it did in that moment, and he suddenly rolled off of him to lie on his back.
Hutch caught his breath before turning on the light, and when he did, Starsky turned away.
“Again?”
Starsky closed his eyes and didn’t answer. He felt the mattress shift, and Hutch placed a kiss on his shoulder.
“It’s okay.”
He huffed. “Liar…”
“I’m not—"
Starsky stood, taking his robe off the headboard. He pulled the sash into a tight knot as he made his way to the bathroom.
Hutch sat up and watched him. “Are you sure it isn’t me?”
He paused at the bathroom door. “It’s obviously me.”
“There’s obviously something wrong and you’re not telling me.”
“Because I don’t know what’s wrong, Hutch!”
He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, and he saw Hutch looking at him with those bright, loving eyes.
“You’ve been having trouble sleeping," he said. "I feel you tossing and turning, and I know you get up in the middle of the night. I hear the TV, but…I try to give you space.”
Starsky felt his eyes water and he sighed as he approached the bed. He sat on the edge near Hutch and took his hand, caressing his knuckles.
“I don’t know what it is. I’d tell you if I knew.”
“Is it stress? Did something happen that I don’t know about?”
Starsky saw a flash of light in his mind followed by a glowing red. It was wet and dripping against a rock and pooling in a patch of grass.
He closed his eyes as the tears came.
“It’s nothin’.” His voice broke, and he went into the bathroom, shutting the door and shutting out Hutch.