He exited the shower stall, grabbed a towel and dried himself just enough to prevent his body from dripping. Then, he draped the wet towel around his hips. Next, he grabbed his shaving stuff, headed for the closet, opened it wide and put all the things away in his bag, smiling at the increasing untidiness in the closet. It was difficult to maintain a minimum level of tidiness when living alone, but when there's two people sharing the same space... Besides, the same thing could be said about his own apartment.

Making up his mind, he began putting some order to the closet, while searching for the clothes he intended to wear today at the same time. Boxers and socks were already waiting on the bed, so he just needed a shirt and jeans. No, his cutoffs would do. He chuckled excitedly in anticipation of the day off that awaited them. Whistling a sexy tune, he began jerking his hips in an unashamed mating dance. His body remembered blissfully the minutes shared with his partner after waking up that morning. His skin was still tingling, his body was humming, his soul was soaring.

He frowned when he couldn't find the sky blue cotton shirt he was looking for. He was almost certain it had to be there, not in his own apartment, even though after five months together, half his belongings were already here. He sighed happily at the thought, and his erotic dance reached a higher level.

"Starsk!" he called at last. "Have you seen my blue shirt?"

"God, Hutch, I could look at you all day and never have enough."

Giving a start at the husky voice right behind him, the blond turned about. Starsky, dressed in boxers and a Mickey Mouse white T-shirt, was sitting on his wicker chair, ogling him openly. Sprawled would be the correct word. The bulge inside the boxers made Hutch feel as if his blood was suddenly boiling in his veins.

Starsky stood up and approached his partner like a predator stalking its prey. "How can a man be so clumsy on the dance floor and perform the sexiest dance dressed in a towel and searching through a closet?" He wondered out loud.

Recovering fast, Hutch started issuing forth some pheromones of his own. "I think the subject of my thoughts has everything to do with it," he replied, licking his dry lips erotically.

Starsky wrapped his arms around the long neck. "My poor blond Blintz. You've had the wrong dancing partners all your life."

"Exactly," Hutch agreed, pressing the warm body to him needfully. "I was looking for my other half all this time, that's why I danced as if I was double-jointed."

Starsky laughed out loud. He loved Hutch's capacity to laugh at himself and his own inabilities.

"You've been watching me since I came out of the bathroom?" Hutch's voice dropped an octave. A sure sign of delightful things to come.

"Uh-huh," Starsky nodded, nuzzling Hutch's ear and playing with his earlobe like a kitten.

"Admit it, buddy. You're a voyeur." Hutch's hips began a helpless grinding movement that Starsky immediately reciprocated. His body was coming alive again, filling with goosebumps and shivering in anticipation. God, this man was everything he had ever needed and so much more!

"So, any complaints?" Starsky asked, his voice muffled by having his lips pressed up against Hutch's neck.

"None at all. Although it's a bit disappointing to know you only want me for my body."

Starsky spluttered and pinched Hutch's butt. "Your body and all the gorgeous things you can do with it, baby." His hand reached beneath the towel and fondled the smooth, silky flesh that filled his palm so wonderfully.

"Look, there it is!" Hutch exclaimed, never stopping his rhythmic undulating movements.

Not wanting to be distracted from his favorite pastime, touching Hutch all over, Starsky turned his head reluctantly, and saw Hutch's blue shirt sticking out from under the bed. It was turned inside out and grains of sand could be seen in between the folds. With a sigh, he turned his head again and buried his face in the fragrant shoulder, remembering the previous night with a dreamy smile.

They had been walking down Venice beach, hand in hand, in the darkness. Only the full moon illuminated their surroundings. Magically, they found themselves alone. Wrapping their arms around each other's waists and leaning on one another, they walked endlessly, burying their naked feet in the sand, feeling the alternately dry and wet grains of sand cushion their weight. The salty scent of the ocean filled their nostrils and they inhaled it deeply, awed and humbled by the immensity before them. Finally, they stopped and stared at the breaking waves. Hutch placed himself behind his partner and enveloped him in his arms protectively. Starsky pressed back against him and they lost themselves in their own cocoon of love. They lost track of time, until Hutch started nuzzling the curls on the back of Starsky's neck. Starsky's heart was full to bursting, exploding with more feelings he was able to contain. And every single feeling cried out 'Hutch!' in its glorious burst of light and color.

Suddenly, Starsky was inflamed. He felt as if he breathed hard enough, he would take everything inside him; his partner, the beach, the sky, the ocean. And yet, everything in the universe that mattered was right there, wrapped around him like a warm, blue blanket. He didn't know why, to him Hutch was Blue. Blue like the shirt he was wearing, blue like his eyes. Even his aura was blue; blue and gold.

And he wanted to fuse himself with that Blue. To cradle it inside him until the day he died. Never let it go. There, on that beach, where anyone could see them.

His body burned. He was pulsing as if all of him was a huge, fevered heartbeat.

He pressed back against his partner in a painful spasm of need, just as Hutch telegraphed his own need by pressing his hips against him.

Their legs gave out under them and they collapsed on the sand, practically ripping the clothes off each other's bodies.

And right there, under the moonlight, with the sky and the ocean as their only witnesses and the sand as their bed, Starsky lost himself in the deepest recesses of his partner's body. He forgot who and what he was, and when he thought he would never find himself again, Hutch tightened around him, bringing him back to the earthy reality of their joined flesh and the sublime ecstasy of their entwining souls. Hutch's hands were all over him. From his buttocks to his back, moaning his name time and again, clinging to his shoulders while Starsky pounded relentlessly into him, making him feel like a god. A god whose only wish was to become one with the only being who made him whole. His equal, his kindred spirit. They were two gods making love, defying whatever higher power to try and stand against them. Hutch's hands grabbed his head and brought it closer, so they could look into each other's eyes.

"See what you do to me," he whispered, before letting out a keening wail and beginning to contract around him. "My God, Starsk. Oh, my God! God, yes!"

And in the look of those angel eyes and in the sound of that voice he loved more than he thought he was able to love, Starsky saw eternity. Eternity and a feeling that would live forever, eons after their bodies had turned to dust. "Oh God, Hutch. Take it. Take it all, my love. All of me, in you. You, my God!" he cried out, emptying himself deep within his soulmate.

Their cries of searing pleasure were suffocated by the sound of the waves and a distant thunder, announcing an approaching storm.

When he opened his eyes again, Starsky felt deliciously enervated, but at the same time, a wonderful tingle was spreading up and down his spine. Hutch's legs were still wrapped around his hips, keeping him sheathed.

A second thunderclap, closer this time, brought an excited thrill to every nerve ending he possessed, and he began hardening again inside his partner.

"Oh, no, you gorgeous stud," Hutch whispered into his ear, in the sexiest blending of excitement and amusement. "My back needs some rest now."

"Okay, turn over," Starsky replied simply.

Hutch's bubbling laughter was the hottest, most erotic sound Starsky had ever heard, and he thought he would come again just listening to it. "You may find it comfortable having me for a cushion, but I wanna go home now. The rain'll be here soon, anyway."

"Do you wanna spoil my mood?" Starsky half-complained, making his eight-inch long point thrusting gently once across Hutch's prostate.

Hutch whimpered and bit his lower lip, closing his eyes to fully savor the gift of unexpected pleasure taking him over. "Far from me," he sighed, reaching down between their bodies and holding the root of Starsky's member in his loving fingers. "I'll keep 'up' your interest all the way home." He clenched his muscles around the organ he so cherished, making Starsky moan.

"Okay, if you can keep my interest 'up' all the way home, we'll do it any way you want," Starsky wriggled his eyebrows playfully, the child in him surfacing in the wink of an eye.

Smiling happily, accepting the challenge, Hutch slowly took the hard penis out of him and fondled it amorously, trying to soothe it for the loss of warmth and shelter inside him. He brought his thumb across the head and tickled the slit. The immediate answering wetness almost made him reconsider his proposition.

With a superhuman effort, Starsky began looking for his scattered clothes and dressing up. When he already had his shorts and pants on, he looked at Hutch. His partner had made no move to get dressed and he was lying naked on the sand, half-erect and staring up at him lecherously. Never breaking eye contact, Hutch stuck out his tongue and licked his lips in a suggestive circle, letting out a groan of pleasure. Starsky felt his organ jumping and throbbing like crazy in the tiny space his pants allowed.

The drive home was sheer torture, as Hutch huskily related to him the parts of his body he intended to suck, lick and bite in excruciating detail. The low, sensuous voice made Starsky grind his teeth and squirm on his seat as if he had Saint Vitus' dance. When they were only five minutes away from his place, the curly-haired man made the mistake of looking at his partner. Hutch was undulating on his seat as if he was being caressed by invisible hands. A big, strong hand moved up his thigh.

"Hutch, please!" Starsky was losing control rapidly. He had never been so desperate for sex in his life before. He had never needed anyone that much before. It was a compulsion far beyond his body's needs. A craving to become one with Hutch all the time. Only then was he truly free and at peace.

Somehow, he found himself parking by his place. They exited the Torino and raced upstairs. When the door closed behind them, they flung their arms around each other and ripped their clothes off for the second time that night. Unable to make it to the bedroom, Hutch took his partner on the wicker chair by the door, with Starsky sitting on his lap, wrapped around him like a baby monkey, as the storm outside unsuccessfully tried to measure up to the passion, need and fierceness of the love those two tiny creatures inside that small building lost in that huge city below, had for each other.

Starsky returned to reality when a juicy mouth took hold of his earlobe and started sucking on it enthusiastically.

Closing his eyes and giving himself to their loving, he briefly spared a few seconds for the sweet memories of their afterglow. How he had cuddled up to Hutch after their mind-blowing climax and how, when he was falling asleep there, Hutch slid his arms under his knees and around his back and stood up, carrying him to the shower. They washed away the sand and sea water. Starsky had tried to pick up their clothes afterwards, that were scattered all over the living-room, but Hutch had dragged him to bed, gotten into it and opened the sheets, inviting him in. Immediately forgetting about cleaning up, he dropped their clothes at the foot of the bed and slid beside the warm body. Giggling and frolicking like two kids who shared the most wondrous secret, they fell asleep just as they had been sleeping night after night for the past five months: deep in each other's arms.

That morning, he had been awakened by Hutch's reverent kisses all over his chest. Hutch's physical passion for him was his greatest treasure. His scars and incision marks always received lingering and extra thorough loving. At first, he had thought Hutch did it to make a point, but when he realized Hutch's scars received the same loving treatment from him, he felt like a fool for ever thinking Hutch would do something like that just to prove something to him. When he had clumsily tried to apologize for it, Hutch gave him the Hutchinson trademark roll of the eyes and shake of the head.

Hutch's mouth had gone down his chest, stomach and belly, until... Ahhhh, what a glorious 69 they had enjoyed!

Starsky couldn't believe them. They had always been very sexually active men. In his case, a rabbitt would have serious problems keeping up with him. But for the last five months, it had gone off the scales, any scales, for the two of them. And what amazed him the most was that neither of them had gotten sick, given the exaggerated sexual activity they had. Quite the contrary. They had never felt more alive, healthier and so fucking good! Hutch had commented a couple weeks ago over breakfast they only had to enter the precinct singing "Heigh-Ho" at the top of their voices. Starsky choked on his piece of toast at that. Energy and exuberance poured out of them in waves, and it seemed contagious. The precinct had become the happiest place. They didn't know if they were only projecting their happiness there, or if their workmates had actually become 'infected' by the obscene cheerfulness they exuded.

Jeeez, they had done it three times in the last twelve hours, and he felt ready to run a marathon. But it wasn't just sex for the sake of sex, not even as a way to express their love and passion for each other in the deepest, most meaningful way known to man. It ran far deeper than that. They only felt complete when lost in each other's essence. It was a soul deep need to join and join and join forever. The physical pleasure was devastating, but what they felt in their hearts and minds then... it defied all description. It was like fulfilling everything they were meant to be. Being together like this was touching heaven.

Hutch's soul was his heaven, and he ached to return there as often as he could. It was like a drug. The sweetest, most selfless drug.

Wherever he looked, there was a little corner that had seen some action. All his apartment and Hutch's had been ravaged and 'baptized' by their loving. He chuckled excitedly and let out a low moan when Hutch introduced his hands in his boxers and cupped his cheeks. He pressed back against those kneading palms, as the most delicious tingle spread from there all over his loins.

"Do you have any idea how much it turns me on to see you wearing my boxers?" Hutch purred into his ear, sticking his tongue inside.

"Almost as much as it turns me on wearing them," Starsky promptly replied, holding back a gasp and thrusting his hips forward.

Hutch snickered sensually and brought his beloved closer with a sharp movement, that almost swept Starsky off his feet.

"Mmmmmm, so sexy," Starsky whispered throatily, wrapping his arms around the broad back and grabbing the blond's shoulders.

"What?" Hutch asked, nibbling at his partner's neck.

"Your strength, your scent, your taste, all of you! God!" He moved back and devoured Hutch with his eyes. "I could come just looking at you," he gurgled, diving for Hutch's mouth and thrusting his tongue inside. Hutch greeted it with his own and sucked on it greedily for what seemed like forever.

"You have, several times," Hutch said smugly, when they came up for air. "You're so good for my ego."

"As if your ego needed any help," Starsky commented with a wink. "I'm sorry if I sound shallow, baby, but you have a body to die for; and I wanna crawl right inside and know every tiny part of it."

"And you're welcome inside me whenever you wish," Hutch invited with a delightful shudder.

"Is that a proposal?" Starsky's blue gaze intensified, oozing eroticism.

"Always!" Hutch exclaimed in surrender, hugging the man he loved passionately. "God, Starsk. If you only knew what your eyes do to me."

"I'll bet," Starsky said to himself, bringing one hand around to Hutch's chest and tweaking one already erect nipple gently. He felt Hutch growing larger and harder against his groin.

"You'll bet?" Hutch asked, forgetting about their conversation entirely.

Starsky brought his other hand up to the smooth chest that made him drool with need, and pinched the other nipple. They were so soft and hard at the same time. And their color... God, this man drove him crazy!

"I bet I could make you come just looking at you," he replied absently, totally lost in his caresses. He closed his eyes to relish every little sensation. His fingertips felt like exploding. His erection throbbed dangerously in his - Hutch's - boxers. Oh, yes, he could come just touching that silky flesh.

Hutch moaned and threw his head back in abandon, at the unbearable sexuality in Starsky's touch. He was aroused in body and spirit. What this man unleashed in him was insane! He was in a state of constant desire, constant hunger that only Starsky could satiate. And the more he had of him, the more he craved. And Starsky felt the same for him; that was what made it so beautiful. And so overwhelming. Closing his eyes, he remembered the night before, when he had kept Starsky hard all the way home just with the sound of his voice.

'And I bet I could make you come just with my voice,' he thought, naughtily.

"You think you could?"

The amused curiosity in Starsky's voice brought Hutch back to the present, and he realized he had said the words out loud. "What?" he asked, a bit dazed.

"You could make me come just with your voice?"

The wanton playfulness in Starsky's accent made Hutch consider his challenge seriously. "Well..." he trailed off, "...it'd be worth trying. It's easy to excite you through your eyes, but..."

"You made me come the other night singing to me," Starsky reminded him, and an endearing softness appeared in his eyes.

"Yeah, but you could see me then," Hutch pointed out, mesmerized by the dreamy look in those incredible eyes. It was so easy to read his beloved. The memories of the evening in question filled his mind too, and he trembled in remembrance.

The range of possibilities they could romance each other was infinite. And they had the rest of their lives to try them all.

"You don't have to say and do anything to excite me, Hutch. You only have to be you and I'm already on the brink." The childlike honesty and innocence of Starsky's words slid through Hutch's heart like a knife. "God, every time I think you're mine, that you want to me mine, I..." Starsky shuddered helplessly.

"Oh," Hutch moaned, hugging the hard and compact body with such a desperate need to protect that his eyes filled with tears. Starsky's ability to go from wanton to looking like a lost waif would never cease to amaze him. "I was always yours, long before we met, love. It was written. In my heart and yours. Before we were born and forever." He framed the shining face in his hands and kissed the pouted lips with all the tenderness and devotion that exploded from him. Every time he thought he couldn't love Starsky any more or he would die, his heart swelled a little bit more, and his partner occupied the new space Hutch had created for him, filling it up to bursting. "Come, darlin'. Let's see if I can find the magic words."

"You will, babe," Starsky smiled joyfully, holding on to the outstretched hand and following Hutch to the bedside. "Half the game's already yours."

"Hey, you should play a little hard to get, otherwise I'm gonna think you let me won this one." Hutch said, looking into those awesome blue eyes that regarded him adoringly. What he saw in them made him feel unworthy.

Starsky shrugged. "I can't help it, Hutch. Just look at me."

The two men looked down at Starsky's tented boxers. Hutch moaned and licked his lips instinctively. Reaching out, he grabbed the T-shirt Starsky wore. On cue, Starsky raised his arms and let his partner take it off. Next, the blond got down on his knees and stared, completely enraptured, at the proof of Starsky's passion... for him! With a growl deep in his throat, he took hold of the boxers' waistband, and with a swift and smooth movement, pulled them down the sensual legs.

Starsky's erection bobbed several times, free at last of the garment that prevented it from showing off its assets to the man it loved.

Hutch bit his lips and clenched his fists, holding back brutally the overpowering need to make love to it with his hands, lips, tongue and everything he had. Starsky's scent enveloped him in a warm and musky cloud and he thought he would scream. He inched forward, inhaling deeply...

"Hutch, don't." Two gentle hands settled lovingly on his head, and stopped him just before his lips made contact with the flaring tip. "Only with your voice, remember?"

The taller man made a grimace, unblinking. "I'm beginning to wish I had kept my big mouth shut."

Starsky's thumb brushed across his lips.

"Don't even think about it. This perfect mouth his my greatest treasure, especially when it's wide open."

Hutch throbbed all over at the million images Starsky's words evoked. The throbbing was particularly intense in his nether regions, a feeling that had begun to accompany him two and a half years ago, when he acknowledged his deepening love for his partner and resigned himself to the fact his need would never be satisfied, and non-stop for the last five months, when they came out to each other and were finally granted the privilege of satisfying one another's every need, for as long as they lived.

With a wistful sigh, he gave up and stood up again. Starsky's sparkling eyes brought a helpless smile to his lips.

"C'mon, Blondie. Let's put your gift of gab to the test." Starsky bounced on his toes excitedly, making his erection swing from side to side. Hutch thought he would explode right then and there.

Impulsively, the blond unwrapped the towel around his hips and exposed his own raging erection to Starsky's bulging eyes.

"Hey, that's not playin' fair," Starsky's resolve wavered at the magnificent sight, and he felt his knees weakening. His mouth watered, too, and he swallowed hard.

In answer, Hutch reached out one hand and rested it on the center of the hairy chest. He kept it there a few moments, feeling the strong and fast heartbeat on his palm. Then, he started roaming around with such worship and reverence that it left Starsky breathless.

"I wonder why is it that since we're together, we seem to enjoy delaying our pleasure so much that I seem to live with a perpetual hardon." Hutch never looked up, and his eyes and voice got a distant quality, lost as he was in his own caresses all over Starsky's chest. His fingers splayed and he watched, mesmerized, how that soft fleece parted as his hand slithered through it. The sweet, ticklish sensation on his palm went straight down to his groin. His breathing started coming in short gasps. His penis swelled and oozed copiously. God, oh God! Just touching that chest and he was about to...

"Priapism," Starsky said immediately.

"What?" Hutch returned to the here and now at his partner's apparent non sequitur.

"Priapism," Starsky repeated, dead serious, "that's a constant and painful erection, even in the absence of sexual desire."

Hutch just looked at his partner, blinking rapidly, until he sputtered and burst out laughing, throwing his head back, his heart growing too big to contain the overflowing love he felt for this man, who was his perfect balance. He threw his arms round Starsky and hugged him tight. "Oh, my God! I love you. You're so good for me, Starsk. Even if you're killing me."

Starsky smiled and returned the hug, noticing with a satisfied sigh that Hutch's 'problem' had been alleviated distinctly with his words. His distracting tactic had worked. It had been difficult, considering the effect Hutch's caresses on his chest were having on him...

When they separated, Hutch took his wise imp's face in his hands and kissed him noisily. Their bodies filled with goosebumps at the sound.

"Lie down now, gorgeous!"

"This is your show," Starsky said happily, shrugging. "How do you want me?"

Hutch looked at the rumpled bed they had exited barely an hour before. Bending down, he put aside his forgotten socks and boxers, pulled up the sheets, unwrinkling them, and fluffed the pillows. "Be my guest, Mr. Starsky," he said, offering the bed with a flourish.

"Thank you, Mr. Hutchinson," Starsky answered, with a bow.

"Get on your back and relax," Hutch instructed, walking to the other side of the bed.

Starsky complied and lay down on his bed. He squirmed a little, looking for the most comfortable spot, and then, placed his arms parallel to his body. On second thoughts, he put them across his stomach. He pressed his head back against the pillow, making a nice niche for it. He took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh of total contentment.

Hutch stared down at his beloved, eating him through his eyes. That perfect body held everything he needed in life. Lying there, lean, compact, inviting, calling out to him. Only he could feel the call, the lure, the silent need, and only he could answer it. And that half-hard erection, straining upwards, waving at him! Hutch followed its bobbing movements with his eyes, his hand reaching out of its own volition towards it, sweaty and empty, aching to shelter it in his palm, stroke it up and down, squeeze it rhythmically, faster and faster, watch the changes taking place in his curly beauty. The flushed skin, the heaving chest, the increasingly fuller lips, the keening wails of pleasure, the sensual voice telling him how good he was, how perfectly he loved him. Increasing the pace steadily, while Starsky's body started dancing to the music his fist marked, thrusting into his hand, until...

Hutch jerked on the bed, where he had lain down on his left side, facing the love of his life. His own naked frame was only one foot away from Starsky's, and his right hand only inches away from his object of desire. With a low moan, he moved his hand away.

"You okay, babe?" Starsky's sultry voice floated to him in a cloud of warm sensuality, that made him feel he had liquid fire flowing through his veins.

"That depends on what you consider 'okay'," he replied, swallowing hard to relieve his dry throat. Priapism, indeed!

Starsky's answering chuckle was the most erotic sound the blond had ever heard. Clearly intended to raise his desire to a fever pitch, it succeeded instead in giving him a delightful idea. He licked his lips in anticipation of the sweet revenge he was about to get. Oh, he was going to enjoy this. He would drive Starsky mad with need! Starsky would writhe and thrash all over the bed. He would groan and whimper and beg him to stop. And he would come. Oh, yes. The sexiest sight on earth - his beloved coming in the air like a fountain - for his hungry eyes only!

A devilish gleam appeared in his eyes. "Right, these are the rules. Well, there's just one rule, actually. You can't open your eyes. From the moment you close them, you can't open them again until you come. If you do, then I win. Deal?"

"Deal," Starsky nodded enthusiastically. "And if you touch me, even brush me with a finger before I come, I win."

"Fair enough," Hutch agreed.

Starsky reached out a hand, to seal the bet with a handshake. Hutch complied and they shook hands formally. When they let go of each other, Starsky drew back his hand very slowly, his fingertips caressing Hutch's palm all the way to the blond's fingertips. It was sheer electricity, and both hissed at the loss of contact.

Getting comfortable on the bed again, Starsky watched his partner rearranging the sheets and pillow to his liking. Hutch ended up on his left side again, his head propped up on his left hand, looking at him smugly.

"Are you ready?" The blond asked, clearing his throat and scratching his hairless chest absently.

Starsky couldn't take his eyes away from the sight of Hutch caressing himself unashamedly, all over that smooth, creamy chest. The long fingers moved leisurely until they reached the little nipples, and Hutch began twirling his index, middle and thumbtips all around them, making the sharp points stick out.

"Starsk? Starsk?"

Starsky blinked and made a huge effort looking away from the lustful display and up to the smiling, flushed face. Flushed with sexual excitement.

"Whenever you're ready. You can close your eyes." Hutch's hand strayed down his stomach in a straight line until it reached the gold pubic curls and the base of his erection. He wriggled a bit under his own ministrations and his thighs opened a little, allowing that big hand to wrap itself around the organ Starsky was itching to hold and worship.

'We should be scratching each other's itches, instead of playing these stupid games that send us up the wall. But then, I started this,' Starsky thought bitterly.

But he also knew that these games were a part of them. They were part of their relationship, even before they became lovers. Still, he knew that if he told Hutch he needed to make love with him, Hutch would drop all pretense and they would simply love each other with all the tenderness they had reserved only for one another.

Right now, they were two kids playing, and that was good. Playing was a healthy sign. A sign that told them everything was right and happy and exciting in their relationship. Absolute sincerity and openness, as it had been between them since the day they met.

He met Hutch's eyes joyfully then, and saw that his partner understood and shared every one of his thoughts. Hutch nodded once and winked at him, with a naughty snicker that brought a delightful shiver up and down Starsky's spine. Looking down, he saw Hutch pumping his flesh delicatedly, tantalizingly. Tempting him.

"Close your eyes, Starsky, or you'll explode before we start." The mirth in the deep voice was unmistakable.

"No, I won't," Starsky shook his head stubbornly, still feeling the need to hold his ground.

"Okay, take your time, then. We have all the time in the world," Hutch renewed his excruciatingly slow caresses all over his length, his thumb drawing circles all over the purple head, spreading the fluid all over his glans.

Starsky swallowed hard. Well, he'd better put an end to this needless agony. With a long parting look at the extremely erotic display, he looked away and directly ahead, closing his eyes with a sigh.

He felt Hutch squirming even closer to him. So close, that he could feel the warmth of his partner's body just a couple inches away, but never touching him.

"Ready now, babe?" The sweet caring in the beautiful voice filled his skin with goosebumps.

Starsky nodded his head.

There was a total silence for a few moments that became endless for Starsky, alone as he was in the darkness of his closed eyes. "Hutch?" He asked at last, in an almost frightened voice.

"I'm right here," whispered the most loved voice into his ear. "Right here, beside you, right where I'll always be."

Starsky let out the air he didn't know he was holding. He smiled softly, reassured, and relaxed on the bed. As relaxed as a man with a definite hardon between his legs could be, that is.

"Feel me next to you, Starsky. Reach out with your senses and feel me," Hutch said.

Following the instructions of that voice blindly, Starsky reached out with his hearing, his smell and all the other senses that had no name, but were there, nonetheless.

Gradually, Starsky realized he could feel something; more and more, the more he reached out. It was as if his senses expanded to encompass his immediate surroundings. He could feel the warmth of Hutch's body beside him, wrapping him in it and keeping him cozy and safe. He could feel his breathing, blowing on the right side of his face, so soothing and comforting. He could smell his breath. Oranges, the juice he had for breakfast. He smiled, pleasantly surprised at all the things he could make out with only a couple minutes of practice. He sniffed loudly this time and more scents reached his nostrils. Hutch's shampoo and aftershave. He tried again. Yes, it was there, too. Hutch's scent. Spice, musk and that 'something' that was uniquely Hutch. He would recognize that something anywhere in the world. So sweet and warm and exciting. That scent had accompanied him for over ten years, and he wouldn't be able to live without it. In the precinct, sitting right in front of him, riding beside him in the Torino or lying next to him on their bed. That scent was embedded in his every brain cell, and he'd die without it. "I can smell you, Hutch," he said, excited like a child who's just accomplished something very important. "I can hear your heart beating, I can feel your breath blowing on my face and the warmth of your body next to me, covering me, keeping me warm and safe."

"That's wonderful, Starsk." There was an unmistakable smile in Hutch's voice now.

"You're smiling, too! I can feel it, you're smiling!" Starsky couldn't hold back the bubbling joy at his every achievement.

Hutch laughed softly at the infectious joy in his partner's voice. "That's beautiful." He was bursting with pride for the man he loved. He edged as close as he could, his lips only a heartbeat away from Starsky's ear. "Can you hear me?" He whispered into the delicious feature, holding back the need to stick out his tongue and become reacquainted with the perfect form.

Starsky's breath caught at the unexpected closeness of Hutch's mouth. He held back the instinctive reaction to move his head and make contact with those soft, wet lips.

What a minute! How did he know Hutch's lips were wet?

"You felt me licking my lips, didn't you?" Hutch asked into his ear, as if he had read his mind.

He had felt it! He realized just then he had. But damn him if he knew how!

Starsky nodded, blown away by everything that was happening.

Hutch readjusted the hand supporting his head. He slid a bit lower on the bed, until his lips were directly in front of Starsky's ear canal. "Are you listening to me?" he asked, oh-so-softly.

Starsky nodded, and a slight tremor enveloped his body.

Hutch smiled.

"Can you hear me? Really, really hear me, partner?" He insisted, in a whisper.

Starsky nodded again, wondering why Hutch was so insistent.

"Really hear me?"

Starsky nodded for the third time.

"All right, Starsk. Listen to me now."

Starsky strained to hear whatever his blond angel had to say to him. For a long moment, he could only hear the sound of silence, but he was unafraid now. All of Hutch was around him, beside him, inside him. He was safe. So, he just waited, with a sweet and trusting smile on his face.

He felt Hutch taking a deep breath and somehow, he could feel him opening his mouth. Hutch was about to say something to him. He focused all his senses on his beloved.

"Te amo."

The words hit Starsky like a shockwave, and he shuddered down to every corner of his soul. The fact that Hutch had pronounced them in a language other than English only made them even more devastating. He knew what those words meant in Spanish, but he also knew that if Hutch had pronounced them in Turkish, he would have understood them, as well.

It took him a long time to recover from the mind-blowing sensations spreading all over his being. He simply couldn't stop trembling. His closed eyes began stinging helplessly.

Hutch was very much aware of what his words had done to Starsky. He had felt his beloved's reaction right down to his bones. Somehow, pronouncing them in another language made them even more real. They gave a new dimension to his love for his partner.

He had stopped fondling himself some time ago, and now all of him ached to touch Starsky. The need was killing him. His right hand was hovering over Starsky's heart, feeling the comforting heat emanating from the gorgeous body.

'Keep on beating and don't ever stop. At least, until I'm gone first,' he prayed.

His eyes contemplated his partner hungrily, and Hutch felt like crying. So strong and vulnerable he looked, lying there. But, despite his sexual arousal, there was a sense of peace coming out of Starsky in waves. And Hutch's heart skipped a beat when he realized he was the reason for Starsky's peace.

All his intended plans to tease Starsky evaporated right then and there. He suddenly felt the need to tell his feelings to Starsky in a whole new way. They had spent countless hours the last five months telling and showing each other how much they loved one another, and it would never be enough. But all his feelings were gathering inside him now like a rising tide, and he couldn't, wouldn't hold them back.

Cuddling up to the man he loved, a breath away from his skin, Hutch struggled to speak past the lump in his throat. "Te amo, Starsk." A small part of his brain wondered at his strange need to speak in Spanish, but he dismissed any rational thought and let his heart take over.

His bulging eyes saw Starsky's skin filling with goosebumps from head to toe. Every hair on his front stood on end and a visible ripple spread all over his body. Hutch shuddered in empathy.

"Eres hermoso. En cuerpo y en alma." His voice was only a bit higher than a whisper. He pronounced slowly, needing Starsky to understand what he was saying. If not with his intellect at some point, at least with his heart, for it was Hutch's heart that was speaking to him.

Starsky threw his head back, biting his lower lip.

"Te necesito a mi lado, ahora y siempre. Tú eres el amor de mi vida."

The cadence and rhythm were very different from when Hutch spoke in English. The vibrations of his voice resonated on Starsky's ear, on his face, and spread all over his body, making it sing. Despite the breathtakingly romantic nature of those words, the novelty of having the man he loved speaking in a foreign language into his ear, was the single most erotic thing that had ever happened to him, and Starsky's body responded as quick as lightning. Hutch's voice sounded so sensual, so... new. It made him feel as if he was being seduced by another side of his partner he had never seen before. That strangely familiar voice was coaxing his body into responding to his deepest core. And Starsky found it the easiest, most natural thing in the world, to give everything it demanded from him, precisely because it wasn't asking for anything, only giving. Giving him the greatest gift he had ever known.

"Starsk, Starsky, amor mío," Hutch whispered now.

"Ooohh, Hutch," Starsky whimpered, turning his head to the right, almost brushing those magical lips.

"Te amo. Te deseo. Tu alma, tu cuerpo, todo tú. Te necesito con todo mi corazón, cariño. Para siempre."

Even Hutch's scent had changed a little, Starsky noticed with only a tiny part of his brain. "I need you too, Hutch. All of you. Always and forever," the words came out of his lips in a gush. "Your heart, your soul, your touch..." He just couldn't stop.

"Shhhh, no hables ahora," Hutch murmured languidly, inhaling the musky scent emanating from his partner, and finding it the most arousing aroma on earth. He spared a swift look at himself and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sight of his rock-hard erection. He squirmed a little on the bed, trying to ignore his brutal awakening to his own blinding need. He shifted his eyes to the only thing in his life that mattered. He had to hold back a moan.

Starsky was harder and bigger than he had ever seen him. The beautiful organ was pointing upwards like a rocket, all flushed dark pink and covered with the fluid that seeped out of the open slit in a steady flow. The wide head glistened in the sunlight, trembling and straining upwards, as if ready to take off.

Hutch had to close his eyes and bit his lips mercilessly to control the searing pleasure taking him to the verge of total annihilation. When the darkness surrounded him, he felt a silver thread connecting him with his beloved beside him. They were on equal terms now. Blind and totally vulnerable to each other's love. "Siénteme, Starsk. Siénteme a tu lado. El calor de mi cuerpo, la fiebre de mi alma. Oh, Dios, ¡cómo te deseo!"

Starsky wailed as if in physical pain. He moved his left hand away from his stomach and brought it to the bedcovers, gripping them until his knuckles went white.

"Tu olor me excita, tu amor me penetra hasta el fondo. Dios mío, Starsky, nunca antes me había sentido así."

Starsky's respiration started coming in shorter and faster intakes of breath, and Hutch recognized the signs of runaway excitement. Unable to support the weight of his head any longer, Hutch's arm gave way and the blond head collapsed on the pillow, next to its curly counterpart. Totally gone now, Hutch said everything that came to his fogged with desire brain. "Mis ojos están cerrados, igual que los tuyos. Quiero sentir las mismas cosas que sientes tú. Estoy muy excitado, Starsk. Estoy muy cerca. Muy, muy cerca. Y ya no me estoy tocando. ¿Lo sientes tú también? ¿Estás excitado? ¡Dímelo!" He exclaimed.

"¡Sí, sí, Hutch!" Starsky's words seemed to explode from him.

Hutch's erection oozed precome at the sound of Starsky answering to him in Spanish, and he could feel it sliding down his shaft. Oh, God, everything was so warm, so wet.

The two lovers started writhing on the bed, as if they were being caressed by invisible hands. In unison, at the same rhythm, in perfect synch.

The tingle in their bodies was unbearable. The warmth of each other's presence felt like a soothing blanket, wrapping itself around them, tickling them delightfully. They were beating from the inside out, hot and powerful.

They couldn't believe what was happening to them. They weren't touching and yet, they were about to orgasm! They felt enveloped in the other's skin. They were reaching out so desperately, so needfully, that they had found a way to touch beyond their physical bodies.

"¡Oh, Starsk! ¡Estoy a punto de correrme! Puedo sentirlo. Te siento tan cerca. Tu calor está volviéndome loco. Dios, ¡qué bien hueles!"

"Hutch! Huuutch!" Starsky cried out.

"Muévete conmigo. Córrete conmigo, ¡por favor, Starsk!" Hutch implored, beside himself by now, metaphorically and almost literally, for Starsky was the best part of him.

"¡Sí, Hutch, sí! ¡Juntos, juntos!" Starsky was delirious. Never in his entire life had he felt anything remotely comparable to this. It was insane. They were about to come, not even lying a finger on each other!

All his senses reached out and encompassed Hutch. He felt him wriggling and squirming beside him, he could hear his ragged breathing and smell his musky and spicy scent, which got more spicy the closer he was to orgasm. In his mind's eye, Starsky could see the angelic face contorted in pleasure, the flared nostrils, the perfect teeth biting on the lower lip. He could see Hutch shine, as he did every time they made love. It was as if he lit up from the inside. So beautiful!

Their hips started jerking simultaneously. It was unstoppable now.

Hutch's head began thrashing from side to side, his long blond strands falling on the dark curls and sliding away. "Oh, mi amor. ¡Me voy a correr! ¡Ya me viene, ya me viene!"

"I'm coming too, Hutch. ¡Yo también!"

They grabbed the bedcovers and arched their backs, riding the wave of pleasure washing them away.

"¡Ahora, ahora!"

"¡Sí, síiii! Huuuuutch!!"

Hutch saw Starsky's organ erupting in his mind. He saw the purple tip shuddering and beginning to spurt semen all over the quivering thighs and hairy belly. It was indescribable. That gorgeous erection coming alone, without any physical stimulation!

The notion that he had managed this, that they had managed this, together, was more than he could bear. A heartbeat later, he was melting into the most devastating orgasm his body had ever known.

Starsky cried out at the mental image of that long and thick erection squirting its seed all over those strong, creamy thighs and hairless belly. The image was enough to turn his cry into a groan and he shook on the bed, coming endlessly.

"Staaarsk!"

"Huuuutch!"

They spasmed and convulsed on their bed, instinctively turning toward each other, to receive the full impact of their joint orgasm and feel its shockwaves entering them through their naked and open flesh.

In their minds, they pictured their own hands reaching out and squeezing and fondling each other hard and fast, milking their shared pleasure to the fullest.

They screamed together, their hands automatically reaching out to one another and meeting halfway. They clasped each other's hand and held on tight, almost breaking their bones, entwining their fingers.

The final contractions were almost painful in their searing intensity, and they whimpered and sobbed, almost passing out.

Little by little, the glorious agony began receding. Their bodies slowed down their helpless squirming, but not quite. It had been too much, in every way. They took in deep breaths, trying to calm down their wildly beating hearts, that seemed about to beat right out of their chests. They gasped and panted and swallowed hard, trying to relieve the hoarseness in their throats. Finally, they lay totally still, trying to digest what thay had just done.

Starsky tugged feebly at the hand he was clinging to, and responding immediately, Hutch turned and rested his body on top of his beloved, right leg between the damp thighs, right arm around the strong chest, and spinning head on the cozy shoulder that was more comfortable than any pillow. Both moaned at the feel of their wetness mingling with each other. They undulated a little bit, enjoying the sexy sensations, despite their sensitivity.

Sighing blissfully, Hutch nuzzled the sweaty neck, and Starsky brought up one trembling hand and cupped the back of the long neck, his fingers sliding through the soft hair there, that was plastered to Hutch's scalp. Bending his head a bit, Starsky kissed his partner's forehead, just as Hutch began raining sweet, little kisses all over his throat.

"Did it really happen or I just flipped?" Starsky finally asked.

"Both," Hutch answered.

Starsky reached down and pinched the lovely bottom playfully. "Will we ever top this?" He asked again.

"Whenever we want to," Hutch replied, burying his face in the muscled shoulder.

"I like the way you think," Starsky smiled, sniffing at his partner's scent.

Hutch's arms reached around the warm body and hugged Starsky for all he was worth. Starsky returned the embrace passionately, wanting to make certain this was truly happening.

"If this is what making love with you feels like after five months, I can't wait for our ten month anniversary," he whispered into the perfect ear.

Hutch chuckled, his right hand holding on to the back of Starsky's left shoulder and cuddling up to him.

"Hey, Hutch."

"Mmmmm?" the blond answered, lost in the feeling of Starsky's body under him. He loved to listen to the sound of his beloved's life.

"How did you come up with that?" The strong hand started massaging Hutch's head all over.

"With what? Speaking in Spanish?"

"Uh-huh."

"I don't know. It just came up." He looked up shyly at the handsome face. "Did you like it?"

"Like it? Like it?" Starsky asked rhetorically. "My God, Hutch! For a second, I thought my dick was gonna take off like a rocket on the launching pad!"

Hutch burst out laughing at the outrage in the loved voice.

"It was the sexiest, more erotic thing that ever happened to me, babe! Your voice sounded so incredible, so sensual. You pronounced so slow, so sexy." He squirmed helplessly in remembrance. "I didn't come, I exploded!"

Hutch bit his lower lip in satisfaction and closed his eyes. Bringing pleasure to the man he loved made him feel so proud of himself. "I felt the same when you started answering to me in Spanish. I didn't expect that. It was the biggest turn-on of my life, cause I wasn't sure if you understood what I said or not. To tell the truth, I don't remember what I said. I was too far gone to think." He began rubbing his face against the silky fur on the broad chest like a playful cub. God, he loved to do that! He loved to feel that soft hair tickling his body.

"I understood most of it. There were some words here and there I didn't know what they meant, but I got them anyway, from the context."

Hutch exploded into gales of laughter. "From the context?! Oh, Starsk. You're delightful, you know that?"

"Of course I am. It takes one to know one," Starsky smiled smugly.

"Thank you," Hutch said.

"My pleasure, Blintz."

They hugged comfortingly and snuggled up to each other, finding their favorite positions to take a nap.

"Hutch."

"Yes, Starsk?"

"It was awesome. I could feel you all around me, I could see you in my mind. I could see what you were doing, I could hear everything. It was as if we were touching. You were so in me!"

Hutch swallowed. "I know. I felt the same. I knew what to say to excite you. I could feel what you needed me to say to turn you on more and more. I didn't intend to come with you, but the moment I stopped touching myself and closed my eyes... God, it was as if I had entered another dimension. And you were there with me, so warm and sensual, all wrapped around me..."

"Oh, yeah," Starsky agreed wholeheartedly, stroking Hutch's back and shoulder up and down with his fingertips. "We were just meant to be, babe. From the very beginning."

"Yeah," Hutch started roaming Starsky's chest with his right hand, feeling it all over, occasionally rubbing the cute nipples, and making Starsky sigh appreciatively. The rightness of their love brought a sense of peace so absolute he knew that no one and nothing would ever be able to take it away from him. From them. He kissed his human pillow, as the most delicious drowsiness began taking him over.

"Angel," Starsky whispered, pressing the blond head to his chest in a heartbreaking blending of passion and tenderness.

"Mmmm?" was the sleepy answer.

"Now that we managed to make each other come just with our voices, what next? Over the phone?"

Hutch giggled like a child, and Starsky could feel the blush on the cheek settled on his breast.

"Nah, too easy," Hutch mumbled, at last. "By letter?" he suggested.

Starsky snickered and closed his eyes, kissing the top of the blond head. "It'd take us weeks," he argued.

"Even... better," Hutch said, falling asleep.

"You're right," Starsky nodded, clasping the big body to him and joining his beloved into slumber.

THE END.