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Hearts and Flowers

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All work posted under my pen-name is my intellectual property and not that of AO3 or Live Journal

None of my stories may be used or copied without my written permission

No copyright infirngement of the original Starsky and Hutch is intended in my writing.

No financial or commercial gain results from my fanfiction.


The stereo was set to fill the apartment with music.
Streisand’s voice welled up into the room entwining itself round Diamond’s baritone
“You don’t bring me flowers…….”
Hutch stared at the wall.
You didn’t want flowers; you said it isn’t in the tradition.
“You don’t sing me love songs 
You hardly talk to me any more when you come through the door….”
Hutch hung his head and sobbed. He would never forget that day when Starsky had come through the door, speechless and scared.

They knew that they were getting older. You don’t run as fast in your forties as you did in your thirties – nor less in your twenties. But both of them thought that somehow they’d go on forever.
Then one day after chasing some punk along an alley and across a parking lot, Starsky had stopped short. “Hutch…”
Hutch had turned expecting to see the familiar sight of his friend limping to a halt as the old injury caught up with him. But that’s not what he saw. Starsky was down on one knee and he had his hand to his chest.
“Hutch…it hurts, I can’t breathe.”
He left the punk to enjoy his freedom and ran back to the best friend he had ever known. Don’t quit on me here buddy, not here, not like this.

He crouched down beside Starsky who was pale and sweating. Starsky gasped his breath back and looked up at Hutch with frightened eyes. “What is this?”
Hutch knelt beside him and hugged him close.
“Take your time; catch your breath then I’ll get you to ER.”
He held Starsky closer than he might usually have done in public and to hell with if anyone saw; he kissed him.
“Come on; can you get up now?”

Starsky raised a hand to grab Hutch’s shoulder and heaved himself up. “I guess you’d better drive.” He handed over the keys to the Torino and leaned on Hutch as they walked carefully back to the car.

“You couldn’t wait to love me; used to hate to leave me….”
Hutch fingered the photo.
You refused to listen to them…

The doctor was grim. “It wasn’t really a heart attack – but it was a warning shot. We’ll keep him in for a couple of days and run some tests.”
“Go home Hutch; I’ll be OK.”

Hutch did as he was told. He knew better than to make his lover angry with him; and yet he wanted to feel the full strength of Starsky’s wrath. Lately they’d been playing with domination games and Starsky had developed a mean line in chastisement for his partner. A soft spanking followed by…a long drawn out session that Hutch couldn’t get enough of although he pleaded with Starsky to bring it to the climax that he craved.
Starsky would grin and roll him over for another few firm blows on the butt before going back to work with his mouth. When he was sure that Hutch was almost there; when he tasted the first few dewy drops, Starsky would push his partner up over the pillow and go in as deep as he could until both of them came in a rush of moans and sperm.

Hutch returned home and wondered if they would ever play their games again.
He went to work the next day, ignoring Dobey’s suggestion that he take the time to stay with Starsky. He buried himself in paperwork and watched the clock, willing the day to pass.

He went home and lay face down on the bed holding his cock in his hand and trying desperately to conjure up the sensations that only his dark master could bring. He came, but there was no joy in it. He settled for the TV instead.

The apartment door opened and Starsky came in and sat down. Hutch could tell that he was upset.
“Why didn’t you call, I’d have come to get you?”
“I did, but you weren’t here.”
“I was only out for a few minutes putting gas in the car.”
“Hmm. Come here and let me ….No, maybe not.”

Starsky poured a couple of shots of whiskey and handed a glass to Hutch. “This might help what I have to say go down.”
“What did the tests show?”
“I have a heart condition; they reckon it’s probably the result of all the times I’ve been shot and injured and had to have painkillers and anesthetics and…anyway I’ve got it and it’s gonna kill me.”
“How long?”
“Any time that I, and I quote, ‘exert myself physically’.” He smiled wanly. “It could happen if I’m chasing a crook or going up the stairs – or making love.”
Hutch looked at him closely. “And?”
“Well I figured that I could hack sitting at a desk until I get my pension rights sorted out. And I can always use the elevator. But there’s one thing I’m not giving up and that’s you. So if I’m going to risk dying in bed, I guess I might just as well risk dying on the street or on the stairs.”

“It used to be so natural to talk about forever but used-to-bes don’t count anymore they just lay on the floor at the end of the day.”
You weren’t going to let anything change.

Starsky refused to listen. He was determined to live his life to the full; however long it took.

They would come home from a day’s work and Starsky would start preparing dinner while Hutch set the table and sat to watch the news. After dinner Hutch would wash the dishes and Starsky would go over the day’s events. 
He’d always find a reason.
“Hutch, come here!” He was already in the bedroom.
Hutch walked in pretending to be reluctant.
“Yes?” said meekly
Hutch stood before him waiting for the next move.
Starsky undid Hutch’s belt pulling it through the loops of his jeans with a sharp snap. Then he’d undo the zipper and put his hand inside the gap in the denim. He fondled Hutch’s hardening cock through the cotton of his jockey shorts. Fondling just enough to get the first heady moments of arousal.
“Drop them!”
Hutch eased his jeans down and waited for the next order. Starsky could make it last; to Hutch it seemed like his cock was trapped in his underwear, fighting desperately for some sweet release.
Using his free hand Starsky grabbed Hutch’s face and their mouths met. Starsky sucked and chewed at Hutch’s lip before thrusting his tongue hard almost to the back of Hutch’s throat. Hutch’s tongue found the warm soft cavity and they kissed.
Hutch was going to come, he could feel it but somehow Starsky kept him at the point of not-quite-no-return.
Starsky’s tongue continued its exploration of Hutch’s mouth.
His hand was still there; kneading the bulging scrotum and fondling the stiff cock. He felt what he was waiting for.
“Dirty boy. Your pants are wet!”
He pushed Hutch over the bed and used the belt. Not so hard that he caused real pain; but enough to bring Hutch’s excitement to its full. 
A hand grabbed his balls again.
“Now they are really wet aren’t they. Got to take your punishment.”
A few more strokes of the belt and then Hutch felt Starsky’s tongue in the small of his back. He squirmed in pleasure as the soft mouth made its way down to the elastic. Starsky reached into Hutch’s shorts and slipped them down to his knees.
“Got a sore butt? Want me to kiss it better?”
He started to kiss the rosy-pink buttocks that showed some sign of the gentle beating.
His tongue went into the crack and Hutch hardened again.
“Oh please Starsk…please no, not that…”
“Shut up, you know it’s what you were waiting for.”
Hutch sighed. It was all part of the game.

Sitting alone Hutch remembered those games. The song went on…
“Now after loving me late at night;
Well it’s good for you, babe, you’re feeling all right…”

Starsky had his ways to make it last. With Hutch almost helpless he would pull away and start to undress. If Hutch tried to move he would feel a gentle lick of the belt to remind him to wait.
“You can turn round now.” The voice was always gentle and thick with arousal.
Hutch would raise himself up from his position of submission and turn to admire Starsky’s fantastic body. His muscles still rippled under the slightly graying curls on his chest. The fur line still ran down to his navel and on to the thick mass of pubic hair. Gently he’d take Hutch’s face between his hands and pulled him towards his belly.
“Make it happen; sweetheart.”

Hutch started with the nipples that peeked out from the curls; he traced the line of an old wound that ran below the left nipple like a line of emphasis. He traced his way down to Starsky’s navel and darted his tongue in and out of it as he sank to his knees.
Starsky pushed his head gently into place.
Hutch held one of Starsky’s fuzzy balls in his hand and started to lick it like an ice-cream cone. He felt Starsky’s penis harden against his cheek and turned his mouth to take the tip between his lips and nibble gently.
“Go on…”
Hutch started to lick the length of Starsky’s cock and with each stroke of his tongue he felt it extend to a full erection. He took it in his mouth and began to suck hungrily, waiting for the sharp shot of salt liquid, his ambrosia, the food provided by his sexual god. But Starsky was too quick for him. Strong arms lifted him away and pushed him onto the bed. Starsky lay beside him and Hutch felt his hands on his buttocks again; gently parting them and making way for the final act.
Starsky slipped into Hutch’s anus easily enough – his cock was lubricated by Hutch’s saliva and his own pre-cum. He pushed in a little way and started to move slowly but carefully against Hutch’s back.
“What do you say?”
“Please…please Starsk do it…now….please…”
“Hmmm what else?”
“I’m sorry I wet my pants…please give it to me like I deserve…
Starsky bit his ear gently. He nuzzled his mouth in the nape of Hutch’s neck and thrust harder and deeper into his partner’s welcoming ass.
Finally Hutch felt the release. His own cock exploded again into the bed covers – he’d take his punishment for that willingly. Starsky flooded his ass-hole with his own hot juices. Hutch waited.
Starsky fell back and sighed. He rolled over and pulled Hutch on top of him. Mouths locked, they rolled into the center of the bed and sunk into a post-coital doze.

Starsky was standing over him. He was looking at the stain on the bedcover. He smiled.
“Looks like you’ve been a dirty boy again.”
And they were off for another round of pleasure.

It lasted for a few months. There were days when Starsky preferred to be the passive one; allowing Hutch to make love to him in his way. Hutch preferred to tie him to the bed and use and abuse him. He didn’t care; as long as they were happy.

They weren’t even chasing the kid…just running over to him to ask a few questions.
Starsky stopped and leaned on a car. Hutch threw him a worried look but all was well this time.
That night they were playing the usual game. Starsky had Hutch across his knee and
was applying a soft espadrille to Hutch’s butt. “If you don’t clean up in the bathroom you have to be punished.” Hutch moaned and giggled. Starsky had the espadrille in his left hand – his right hand held one of Hutch’s balls.
Once again Hutch found himself in a state of arousal and totally at his partner’s mercy.
The spanking finished Starsky pulled Hutch back to kneel at his feet.
Hutch knew what to do. He buried his face in Starsky’s lap and worked hungrily until he was pulled up to his feet and pushed onto the bed.
Starsky started his usual torturing slow game. He brought Hutch to a near climax and deflated it with a few more blows of the espadrille. He licked and tickled and fondled until he was ready.
Hutch lay across a pillow and waited. He could hear that Starsky’s breathing was a little more heavy than usual. He waited. He was relieved when he felt Starsky’s penis nuzzle it’s way into the crack of his ass and then push into his waiting hole. He moaned with ecstatic pain as Starsky went all the way and hit the sensitive spot behind the prostate. Starsky groaned as he came and fell away.
Hutch waited.
He turned.
“That’s how I wanted it to be.” Starsky whispered before his eyes closed.

“I learned how to laugh and I learned how to cry…so you’d think I could learn how to tell you goodbye….”

Hutch stood up and put the flowers that someone had sent him into a vase.