Note: The Car Talk stories are a group of stories connected only because the action in each story takes place in a car. The stories are not continuous.
#3 – Uncovered
Starsky was so engrossed in the evening newspaper that he didn’t notice Hutch clear his throat. It took a jab to his thigh to grab his attention.
“You’re gonna hurt your eyes trying to read the paper with just the dome light, Starsky. Besides, it’s not the best thing to be lit up like a whorehouse for anyone to see us. This is a stakeout after all.”
“Almost done with this article. And are you callin’ my beautiful car a whorehouse?”
“If the description fits… What’s this article about, anyway?”
“Teddy Kennedy proposed this bill today that’d guarantee full health care to all Americans.”
“That would cost a boatload of Benjamins, though. Who’s gonna pay for that?”
“How do I know? But think about it, Hutch. Me or you gets a serious illness or injury, we wouldn’t go broke, or take years to pay it all back.”
“Well, it would be better if you did healthful things so you wouldn’t get sick, like eat a few vegetables and some fruit every once in a while.” When Starsky opened his mouth to protest, Hutch cut him off with “the finger-sword of Viking menace,” as Starsky had dubbed it years ago. “And the tomato sauce on the pizza or spaghetti isn’t enough.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll think about it. Anyway, we’re more likely to get hurt. Only way we can stop that is ta give up playing sports, stay outta bar fights, not pet stray dogs or bears or snakes, not date psycho nurses, not be cops no more. Oh, wait, we tried that, but people still tried to kill us.”
Hutch stiffened in his seat as a frigid breeze blew through him. Inexplicably panicked, he looked at Starsky, who seemed frayed and feathery around the edges, pale, distant, as if drifting away. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and when they reopened, everything was back to normal.
Starsky put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hutch, you okay, babe? You got this kinda weird look on your face for a couple seconds and you went kinda… frozen. You gettin’ sick?”
“Uh, no, no, I’m fine. Just a little… indigestion, I guess.” His reply sounded uneasy to his ears.
“Yeah, gas can be life-threatenin’, ya know. You gotta belch, well, let ‘er rip. You’re among friends here.” After a quick, reassuring squeeze, Starsky’s hand returned to holding the paper.
Hutch laughed softly through his nose. “That I am.” Quickly, he turned serious. “Uh, Starsk, let’s change the subject, okay? Let’s not talk about illness or injury or anything life-threatening. Okay?”
Two beats of silence, then Starsky said, “Sure thing, Blondie. Oh, did I tell ya I got some more ping-pong balls to replace the broke ones? Figured we could have a rematch tomorrow if things are still quiet.”
“Sure. You do know I’m gonna beat your sorry butt this time, right?”
“No way, ya big lummox. I’m more fleet of hand and foot than you.”
“More like hand-foot-and-mouth disease.”
“What’s that? Sounds like an insult, and not a very good one. Don Rickles you ain’t.”
“Look it up, mushbrain. You wanna make the game interesting?”
“Sure, if there’s a decent bet on it. Whatcha got in mind?” Starsky rubbed his hands together in delightful anticipation of a coming competition.
“How about country-western song titles while we play? Let’s work out the details while we wait for Boyle and Larson to show up.”
Author’s Note: According to Ultimate70s.com, Senator Edward Kennedy proposed a national health insurance bill on May 14, 1979.
Car Talk Part 3
by Amber Raine
Safe for Work
Safe For Work
“Hearts Live By Being Wounded” ― Oscar Wilde
“Sorry, Hutch,” said Starsky, bowing his head and exhaling.
“It’s ok, don’t worry about it.” Hutch tightened his embrace.
“I am so sorry.”
“Starsk,” said Hutch quietly. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I love you so much,” whispered Starsky, not daring to look up.
“I know… And I don’t need your proof. I love you too.”
Starsky let his head drop sideways on Hutch’s shoulder and let out another long breath. Continue reading
Starsky and Hutch are two detectives in the Bay City P.D., Metro Division, in their mid-30s. They are partners on the street and off.
“I know you work homicide! But it’s crazy out there,” Captain Dobey bellowed at the roomful of detectives. “Everybody’s on supermarket duty – as of now! So get your butts out there!” He made a sweeping gesture that included everyone else in the squad room, then returned to his office, slamming the door behind him.
It was kind of crazy, Hutch had to admit. They’d noticed how full the parking lots of the stores were on their way into Metro this morning. The news and social media were full of speculation about the new disease that was affecting other countries and was reportedly on its way to the United States. It was something new and deadly, with no cure and more questions than answers. Everyone was feeling anxious and people had become fearful of shortages, seemingly overnight. So Dobey’s plan was to make sure there weren’t actual riots by assigning everyone to the local grocery stores to help out.
In the squad, sheepish looks were exchanged. Before anyone could blame Starsky and Hutch for the captain’s latest tirade, Starsky grabbed his partner’s arm and shoved him toward the door. Continue reading
Friends in a Window
|Grocery Store Duty
by April Valentine
Safe For Work
Safe For Work
Starsky was glad Hutch had chosen the bed to receive his reciprocated orgasm. Had Hutch chosen the chair, they wouldn’t have been given the gift of simply collapsing into each other’s arms when the sex was over; Starsky would have ended up on the carpeted floor and Hutch would have fallen asleep in a sitting position. But Hutch chose the bed.
“Here in the shower,” Starsky had asked him, “or on the bed… or?”
“The bed is good,” Hutch had replied.
“So, not the chair?” The position for fellatio had a better angle for Starsky if Hutch had chosen the chair, but he was relieved Hutch’s choice had been a mattress; he simply wanted to make certain Hutch was sure of his decision.
“The bed is fine,” Hutch reiterated.
“And do you wanna sit on the bed… against the headboard, I mean? Or do you wanna be on your knees?”
Hutch scratched his head. “On my knees?”
“At the edge. Down in front and hugging a pillow. I’ll do it from behind—that way, I can lick and kiss all your parts the way you did mine.” He slapped Hutch’s bared butt when the boy walked past him after choosing the kneeling position at the edge of the mattress. “Good thinkin’,” he told Hutch. “Last question: you want me to tease ya for a while—or do you want me to just do it the way I usually do—given how long you’ve been on now—but take my time?”
“Do it your way,” Hutch had told him.
Starsky took his time.
They lay in each other’s arms afterward, sprawled across the sheeted mattress, panting heavily, laughing, naked and exhausted, on their backs staring at the ceiling, not seeing. And then they slept for an undisturbed quarter hour while Hutch held Starsky’s forearm tucked between them. Starsky was the first to rouse, as always seemed to be the case. He rolled into Hutch, wrapped Hutch’s calves under his leg, propped his temple in his palm, and poked Hutch’s belly. When that didn’t get a reaction from his partner, Starsky gently pinched one of Hutch’s nipples.
A hand immediately swatted his away. “Touch me again and I’ll punch you in the head,” was Hutch’s non-serious threat. He opened his eyes and looked at Starsky, feigning contempt. “You can never not be an asshole after sex, can ya?”
Starsky ignored the dig and smiled at him. “You tasted good, too, by the way.”
“You’ll eat anything.”
“Not anymore. Besides, I’m not the only one around here who eats cum.”
“I wasn’t judging.”
“Just stating a fact, hm?”
Hutch affectionately stroked Starsky’s hair; his expression and his voice softened. “Thank you for that amazing experience.”
“The one here on the bed? Or the one in the bathroom?”
“All of it.”
“Even what we did in the bathroom?”
Hutch squinted at him. “Seriously.” He stroked Starsky’s cheek and then dropped his hand to his chest. “What impression did you get that I didn’t enjoy the bathroom experience?”
Starsky shrugged. The only impression he’d gotten was the most obvious one: that Hutch couldn’t produce his own orgasm while Starsky was bolted to the wall. Had Hutch forgotten that part? “Well, I mean—”
“You were done,” Hutch explained, having then read Starsky’s mind. “I did what I said I’d do—and I think I did it well.” He smiled as if Starsky owed him a confirmation on that claim.
“Yeah,” Starsky agreed, “you fucked the cum out of me; job well done. But, I mean, if you couldn’t come for yourself, how’d you feel about the rest of it?”
“All of it? I’m saying… did you love all of what we did, no bad feelings?”
“No bad feelings,” Hutch promised.
“So you didn’t mind that I was in bondage.”
“So long as you were still turned on, I loved that you were—because it was obvious you were getting off on it.”
“Okay, but did you get off on me being in bondage?”
“Because you did, I did.”
“You were gettin’ off on my gettin’ off, but not because I was tied up. Is that what you’re saying?”
Hutch paused them by looking toward the ceiling for a minute to give the question serious soul-searching. He made eye contact again. “I don’t think I can separate the two things, Starsky. If you weren’t enjoying being held like that, I couldn’t have enjoyed it, either.”
“So that’s how we’re different.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, that first time I took you in bondage, remember? I mean, you agreed to it, but you weren’t all that thrilled about it. You did it because you knew I wanted to do it to you. It was some time before you liked it—and that was, I think, that you liked what I did to you while I had you tied up, not because you were tied up.”
“You’re saying that the act of bondage, by itself, is exciting for you.”
“If that’s okay.”
“Whatever turns you on, baby,” Hutch said with a light laugh, stroking Starsky’s hair again, and seeming to melt. “All I know is this: sex with you is the best I’ve ever had, the most rewarding, the purest and most honest, and that I don’t have to beg for it is a dream I never knew was possible. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: unless there’s pain involved, anything goes when it comes to you. I think we’re of the same mind on that.”
Starsky loved the feel of Hutch’s fingers in his hair, and the look of love that sparkled in Hutch’s crystal blue eyes. He felt the warmth between them, their cooling skin where it touched, but also that proverbial connection that warmed Starsky’s heart, made him feel accepted and safe, desired and equal, despite their differences, or maybe because of them. He pulled Hutch’s hand to his mouth, closed his eyes, and tenderly kissed the inside of his palm, appreciating its size and strength in his own, breathing deeply, inhaling Hutch’s familiar scent, one that belonged to him. When he opened his eyes, they shared an unspoken dialogue that expressed a rare kind of love that could not be transcribed into words.
“I’d do anything for you,” Starsky eventually said, answering what he heard in Hutch’s silence.
Starsky laughed, knowing Hutch’s one-word reply was meant to break them out of their sentimental seriousness. “Yeah, I know. I’m the one who doesn’t like mush, and here I go… getting weird on ya.” He ruffled Hutch’s already mussed hair. “So you wanna do that again sometime? Chain me to the wall and fuck me, I mean? Or to a bed… or to… whatever?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“Well, I got carried away because it was new, you know? Maybe next time I can last long enough so you can come first.”
“But, for the record, it’s not all my fault.”
“I wasn’t blaming you.”
“I didn’t say you were. I’m saying that coming so soon wasn’t all my… doing. You pack a powerful fuck.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Not like that. You have this way… it’s just who you are. Maybe I’ve told you this already—”
“You probably have by now,” Hutch said with a shy smile, “but tell me again. I’m sure you’ve bruised my ego since then, so let’s hear it.”
“Well, first, you see, is the size of you. I mean, if I’m bigger than average and you’re bigger than me, we agree you’re huge.”
“So you’ve said, but do say more.”
“Not porn huge,” Starsky clarified, loving the look of mixed emotions in Hutch’s blue eyes when he wouldn’t give Hutch everything he hoped to hear, “but by everyday standards—”
“Okay. So, the size of me packs a powerful—”
“In that I feel you go in a long way—and then I feel you come out a long way. Right? That makes sense, doesn’t it? You’ve got more to go in—”
“Therefore, more to come out.”
“—so you fill me up damn good. There ain’t no missin’ that there’s a huge dick in my ass.”
“I don’t miss when there’s one in mine.”
“Well, there’d be a lot more dick in yours if it was your dick we were using.”
Hutch laughed. “Why are you bringing all of this up again? Not that I mind, mind you, but make your point.”
“That I have a different experience than you have.”
“Only slightly. Only in the difference of our sizes.”
“Here’s the part where it’s not slightly: because you got a bigger dick, you go in and come out that extra bit of difference. Can we agree on that?”
“But add to that the part that’s you.”
“There’s a part of my dick that isn’t me?”
Starsky laughed. “Will you let me finish? Maybe I’ve never told you this particular thing before.”
“I’ll bet you have, but tell me again.”
“The part that’s you… the part of this comparison… is the part that can only come from you. When you fuck, you don’t just fuck.”
“So you’ve said.”
“You’re not in there to see how hard and how long and how deep you can bang me.”
“I wouldn’t enjoy it for that reason.”
“Right. The person who is you has got this slow and steady rhythm…” He stared off for a moment to reflect on Hutch’s method or his technique or just his nature, looked back at Hutch, who was being remarkably patient with Starsky’s elaborate retelling of praise he’d more than once told Hutch, and said, not ashamedly, “You make love to me—as corny as that sounds.”
Hutch smiled, warmly that time. “It’s not corny. And I do love you. You know I do.”
“Yeah. I know you do. You fuck me like you do, is what I mean.”
“I’m glad you still think so.”
“Can’t not. So get what I’m saying overall, okay? When you fuck me like that—all slow and steady and full of love for me—and you do it using that huge dick that fills me up real deep and then back again, over and over… and then add to that how you use your hand on my dick at the same time—down when you’re going in, up when you’re backing out—I mean, goddamit, Hutch, that’s some awesome sex-making, and I just gotta tell you about it again. Do you understand?”
“I understand that you getting carried away was my fault.”
Starsky laughed, knowing he was being razzed, and pinched Hutch’s nipple more firmly than he had the first time, causing Hutch to wince and slap his hand again. “I know you’re all embarrassed,” Starsky said, appreciating Hutch’s sensitivities in that regard, “so I’ll let this go for now because I’m sure I’ll tell you about it again.”
“I’m sure I’ll love hearing about it again.”
“So, down the road, when you tie me up, I’ll try not to get ahead of myself like I did today.”
“But if you do, you won’t mind if we finish how we ended it this morning—I do love what you do to me while I’m on my knees—and no hard feelings on your part, either?”
Hutch appeared relieved then, sleepy eyed, and content. “You’re good to me, Starsk,” he said with sincerity, combing Starsky’s hair again with his fingers. “That was some pretty hot sex I got at the edge of the bed. You take care of me in ways no one else has or could—and leave me wanting for nothing. You know how much I love you?”
“How much?” Starsky wondered, excited to hear a new measurement of Hutch’s fondness for him.
“Enough to make you spaghetti tonight.”
Starsky rolled his eyes. “I thought you were gonna say something else.”
“My question was rhetorical.”
“Whatever that means.”
“That I love you more than I have the words to say.”