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Sounds

by Callisto

In all their years he’s never heard it before; something between a plea and a growl. He can’t help but raise his head and take a second to marvel at what he’s done to six tall feet of Nordic restraint.

Another sound, clearly a groan. Hutch’s cock has been left to shiver in the cool night air while Starsky uses his mouth for something else. He knows Hutch can’t see the smile, but this sense of control is intoxicating, and he hauls himself up on an elbow to watch. The writhing under him slows, and the half dozen years on a broken road it has taken to get here makes him wrap his hand around the base of that cock to see if he can do it again.

He can. Another sound, another shiver, and this time an eye opens.

Even in the half-light Starsky knows he’s got Hutch dipping over the edge, so strung out on hand and mouth that he can barely breathe. He slicks his right hand up in a motion he knows he’ll perfect later, and swallows the next sound whole, straight from Hutch’s mouth and tongue.

Hutch convulses and Starsky knows, balls to bone.

Mine.

The End

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