Disclaimers: The faces are familiar and so are the names, but the setting seems a little strange? I kidnapped a few cuties from television land. I accept that they never did and never will belong to me, but I am having oh so much fun while I have them.
Notes: This is part four of a planned series of stories in "The Coming Home Series". For parts one through three please see "He Comes Home To Me", "Going Home" and "Home Invasion".
Comments on this story can be sent to: creed_cascade@hotmail.com
SYMBOLS
OF HOME
by
Creed Cascade
The apartment was dark when Hutch unlocked the door. He moved around in the familiar space in the comforting blackness. Hutch dropped his keys onto a tabletop and slipped his jacket onto a nearby chair. He moved effortlessly to the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a beer. The flickering fridge light silhouetted Hutch's tall frame as he looked quizzically at the short stubby bottle in his hand. Funny, the bottle was still warm.
"Do you want to fuck him?" A sharp baritone rang out through the shadowy apartment.
Hutch jumped back and dropped the bottle to shatter on the linoleum floor.
"Shit!"
The beer was oozing over his shoes and pant legs. He squinted his eyes and looked out into the darkness.
"Starsk? Have you gone insane?"
Hutch barely could see the murky figure that prowled towards him. He stepped out of the puddle and shifted towards the rapidly approaching form. No words--not anymore, just action. Starsky pushed Hutch against the counter and his hand effortlessly pulled the blonde head down to be plundered. Hutch didn't fight it. He never did. Starsky was like a cat, rubbing his body against the larger man. He broke away from the kiss and pressed their bodies even closer.
"Starsky," Hutch moaned, "What's gotten into you?"
"This--" Starsky grabbed the front of Hutch's bulging jeans, "This is for me. Not for that red headed creature I saw you with."
"You mean Harris?! We're just friends," Hutch went on the defensive, "What do you care, you were supposed to out fucking that girl from payroll."
Denial--Big mistake--rang through Starsky's mind.
"Don't lie to me. I saw you, Hutch. I've been on the receiving end of all of those signals."
"He's just a friend. I swear. Don't you trust me?"
Starsky was too busy unbuttoning Hutch's shirt to answer. When the material fell open to reveal the hairless chest, one nipple was seized between his lips and the other was caressed between his fingers. Hutch ran his fingers through Starsky's curls and enjoyed the ride. He hissed when he felt cold air rush onto wet skin. Starsky had pulled away and was staring at him with those intense azure eyes.
Those same hands slipped into the loose shirt and drifted from his waist to his upper torso. Starsky cocked his head to the side and one hand drifted to rest against Hutch's cheek. He traced his thumb over damp lips and Hutch's tongue snuck out to lick the pad. Soon Starsky's right hand rested on one fair hip, with the edges of his fingers slithering into the waist. He traced the back of his left palm over those same lips and stopped to outline them with the two rings on his pinky finger.
"Do you remember why these are so important to me?" he questioned in a harsh whisper.
Starsky held up his left hand to display the rings in question.
"Yes."
"Tell me," the words slipped out like a silken caress, "The silver one first."
Starsky's hand had moved to rest between his shoulder and neck. Hutch gulped and licked his lips. His lover followed the rise and fall of his Adams apple with his thumb. Every part of his dark, intense lover was erotic, especially his hand at this moment.
"The silver one was from your father. He bought you and Nick a matching set on a trip to Coney Island when you were kids. You never took it off because it made you think of him after he died."
"What about the gold one, Hutch? Tell me about the gold one."
"The gold one belonged to Vanessa."
"You can do better than that. Tell me what you remember."
Hutch tried to move away, but Starsky tightened his embrace.
Hutch finally relented, "I remember when she left me, she threw her wedding band at me as she walked out the door. She said she wouldn't wear a false promise of forever anymore and that no one ever would again. You found me crying on the floor in that empty apartment. I told you what she said and you held me. I was such a mess."
"You're gorgeous even when you're a mess. What did I do to fix it, baby blue?"
"You picked up the ring and put it on beside your Dad's ring. You said she couldn't appreciate a promise of forever, but you could. You took one of the worst times of my life and made it forever for us."
"I admit now I've been taking that forever for granted, Hutch. I want you to know how much I love you."
"I already know that, you don't have to say it."
"I love you like no one else ever can. Let me show you much."
Starsky's hand moved from Hutch's hip to unzip his pants. In one swift motion the blonde's jeans and boxers were pushed down to reveal his leaking cock. Starsky palmed his erection and glided across the shaft. Hutch shuddered from the intense emotions and feelings flooding his system.
The brunette shifted slightly and gracefully dropped to his knees. Even in this position Starsky had control. A set of flaming blue eyes looked at a matching set of slightly hooded ones. Never losing eye contact, he lazily licked the head and gently fisted the full length. Starsky knew him too well and drove the blonde ever closer to the edge, but always pulled back.
"Starsk--please," Hutch groaned.
A lopsided smile ghosted across his lips just before he engulfed the shaft. He used every dirty trick in the book from just the right lick, a graze of his teeth and finally he deep-throated the silky organ. It drove Hutch into a blissful orgasm and Starsky happily swallowed his essence. Starsky was licking his lips and grinning like a wicked Cheshire cat. He was soon standing again and wrapped Hutch in a tight embrace. He rested his head on his partner's shoulder and nuzzled the sweaty neck. He lazy licked at the salty surface.
"I'll fix it again, just like I did before. You'll see, blintz."
Starsky was so good at promises.
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Next story in the series: He Never Asked For A Home Before