In response to dipslikeramon's request (http://community.livejournal.com/meandthee_wish/2137.html) for a back story about Sugar, character from the episode Death In A Different Place. As there's no "pairing" category for "threesome" I'll add it here.
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Sugar: this whole thing with Blaine has really thrown him... All I can do is ask... Okay, let's aim for Friday night."
Hutch hung up the phone.
Since his poor taste comment about Starsky not being a good kisser, ideas had started to form. He wondered why he'd have made such a definitive statement with no evidence to back it up. Then he wondered why the thought of Starsky's kissing abilities even came to mind that day. One random thought led to another, and pretty soon he wondered what it really would be like to kiss Starsky.
They both liked Sugar - he was a good guy - but his lifestyle had them both curious. What attracted him to do drag? They'd had a couple of drinks with him at the Green Parrot, enjoyed the conversation, and kept hungry onlookers at bay. Now he had invited them to a ‘get to know you better' dinner. Hutch had more than dinner in mind.
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Sugar was an even better cook than he was a female impersonator, judging by the aromas emanating from the stove-top. Dinner would be ready in a few minutes - just time for a little conversation over a glass of whisky and appetizers.
"Have you ever kissed a man?"
Starsky answered "Only on the cheek" at the same time as Hutch's tentative "Yes." This was obviously news to Starsky, whose eyebrows shot northward as he pulled his head back in surprise.
"So you two aren't..." Sugar's eyebrows also raised, questioningly.
"No!" Starsky seemed affronted. "Why would you think that?"
"Because I've seen you together. You look like lovers to me: your body language, the touches. Trust me, if you're not lovers, you should be."
"This is bullshit. I thought we came here for dinner, not the Spanish Inquisition. I'm outta here!" Starsky stood, ready for flight. Hutch reached forward to place a calming hand on his partner's forearm: he stilled.
"Starsk, you wanted to know Sugar better - said he was an ‘okay kinda guy'", Hutch whispered in a reddened ear. A little louder: "Just stay. We'll change the subject. Alright with you, Sugar?"
"Sure, Honey. Don't mind me, Curly - I have an inquisitive nature. It's what got me where I am today." Sugar winked, stood and sashayed into the kitchen.
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Dinner was delicious, the company good and the wine a welcome loosener. Sugar really was an interesting guy.
"Don't believe the headlines, my treasures - we're not all from abusive, broken homes."
Stanley had two much older sisters, with whom he enjoyed playing dress-ups. None of his artistic family thought it unusual that he preferred his grandmother's old corsets and boas, and wore her heeled boots. Ever the performer from an early age, his characterizations of Bette Davis and Mae West entertained everyone during the family soirees.
Anyone who dared call him a sissy at school was soon put in their place by his protective siblings. He was enrolled in children's theatre, where he learned to tap and sing, and took drama. His family supported his move into amateur stage productions, while his comedy routines quickly earned him a reputation and a few gigs in nightclubs. Patrons and publicists could call him Sugar, ‘he' or ‘she' - but off-stage, he was Stanley.
Having grown his wings and traveled the country in search of work and new audiences, he eventually moved to San Francisco, where he took up a residency at The Gilded Cage. There he met his soulmate, and they settled in Los Angeles to help Jamie pursue his acting career. He'd lost Jamie several years ago, after the couple was attacked by a gang of thugs. And so he ended up at The Green Parrot, safe amongst friends - gay and straight - and doing what he could to get street kids out of the hands of predators. Underage was off-limits.
He now considered Starsky and Hutch amongst his friends. While Starsky was reticent at first, it was more that he was shocked at John's deceit, than judgmental of the lifestyle. He'd done the rounds himself over the years - losing his father at an early age, running with street kids, a couple of years in the army, and now a cop. Nothing he saw in The Green Parrot was news to him - it just wasn't his scene. ‘Live and let live' was his motto.
The earlier discomfort forgotten, the visitors shook Sugar's hand at the door, and surprisingly, Starsky drew him into a light hug, thanking him for sharing his story. He seemed genuinely touched by Sugar having lost Jamie, and having gone on to make a new life for himself.
"Good guy, huh?" Hutch asked as they got into the car.
"Yeah," Starsky answered thoughtfully, then "thank God he left his Mae West impersonation at the door". They both laughed lightly.
"Like the man said, dressing up is his profession. Not unlike us when we go undercover - playing a role." Hutch smiled at his friend, "And don't forget you've worn a dress more than once on a case."
Starsky shot him a doubtful look, then remembered how the evening had started. "When Sugar asked about us having kissed a man before, you said ‘yes'. Wanna share details?"
Hutch shook his head once, looked down a little, then over. "I'll just say it's very different to kissing a woman, Starsk. You'd have to try it to understand."
"Really." It wasn't that Starsky wasn't curious, but he'd never thought of it as a possibility. "Your place, or mine?"
The question surprised Hutch, and he responded with a dumb look, and "Huh?"
"It's late, and I'm tired. Are you gonna sleep on my couch, or am I gonna sleep on yours?"
"Yours is closer."
Starsky started the engine and headed for home.
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Until the Mayer child abuse case was over, it was hard for either man to think of anything but man's inhumanity to man.
After a depressing week, they finally arranged to meet with Sugar again, to soak in a little of his positive energy. Starsky went back to bugging Hutch for details of his ‘boy kissing' exploits, giving Hutch hope that he could be warming to the idea. He hadn't pushed the point, but maybe in the right setting, and with a little help, Starsky would see him in a different light. For his part, Starsky gave no clear indication either way.
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Starsky had a kink for blow jobs under the table. He had shared the gory details with Hutch during many of his ‘morning after' brag sessions: in the booth at a dimly lit disco, at the breakfast table after a wild night, and even once in a fine restaurant with a fancy date. More than once, Hutch had dropped his pencil under their desk, just to live a moment of fantasy.
Now as they sat for dinner during another evening with Sugar, Hutch was getting hard just from the company. He sat next to his partner along the long edge of the table, while Sugar sat at the head. Starsky completely missed the symbolism, oblivious to planned events.
As they sipped wine and thanked their host for yet another delicious meal, Sugar hinted with a wink: "I enjoy giving pleasure to my friends." Hutch's cock jumped, while Starsky moved in his seat, surreptitiously adjusting his pants.
Sugar asked, "Have you thought about the kissing thing, Dave? Kissing a man, I mean..."
Starsky nearly spat his wine, missed swallowing and choked a little. "I wouldn't know where to start."
That was an interesting reply, Hutch thought.
Sugar removed his shoe and seductively ran his foot up Starsky's leg, resting it on his groin. Starsky jumped, and Hutch rubbed his hand up and down his forearm. They looked at one another, Starsky with a question, and Hutch with an answer.
"Start here. Tonight. Sugar has offered to help us." Hutch's husky voice was more a turn-on than Starsky expected, and he hardened beneath Sugar's foot.
"You enjoy head, don't you Dave?" Sugar asked gently. "Just a meaningless blow job, same as with any other date. I promise we won't need to get married tomorrow."
They all laughed, then sobered as Hutch ran his thumb under Starsky's eye, and around to his brow. He leaned into the touch, and nodded lightly. He looked over at Sugar, "what did you have in mind?"
"You two loosen your pants, while I'll just pick up this napkin". He dropped the paper cloth, and disappeared under the table. There was no move below decks, so he called from his kneeling position, "c'mon boys - surely you're not shy! I'm sure you've seen each other naked before - in the gym showers, for example?"
"Yeah, right." Hutch agreed, distracted. He was still playing with Starsky's face, and Starsky was soaking in the moment.
Sugar muttered something under the table, then reached forward to work both cocks through their pants.
"Oh God," they both muttered, as Starsky kissed Hutch's palm. Hutch stood, took his pants down and knelt next to Starsky, putting their cocks at the same height - much to Sugar's delight. Hutch moved in, gently nipping his partner on the ear, raining kisses down his jaw line and throat, then back up again.
Starsky reached down and pushed his pants to his knees, from where Sugar moved them to his ankles. Sugar now had free access to one of his favorite fantasies - two throbbing beasts begging to be devoured.
As his guests gently explored each other's faces, but had yet to kiss on the mouth, Sugar went to work below. He pleasured both separately, lapping at the tips, running his tongue up and down their lengths. He took both heads in at once, but couldn't manage their lengths this way.
Starsky hesitantly leaned forward to Hutch, who obliged with a sweet kiss on his mouth. Starsky deepened the kiss until their tongues wrestled for supremacy. Sensing that Starsky was close, Sugar sucked in his balls, then ran his open mouth up Starsky's length, taking him in completely. He sucked hard, tapped Hutch on the knee with the pre-arranged signal, and sat back. Hutch took the rod in his hand, gave a couple of quick, hard jerks, milking Starsky to completion.
Starsky threw his head back, moaning "Oh god, oh my god, oh... my... GOD" and slumped boneless in his chair.
After a moment, he realized that Hutch hadn't come, and reached for his partner and new lover. He worked cock and balls by hand for a minute, sucked Hutch's tongue in deep, and followed as he slumped to the floor in ecstasy.
Sugar appeared from under the table, dabbed at his mouth with the napkin, and grinned triumphantly. "I'll leave you to it for now - I'm on stage in less than an hour."
"What about you? You haven't... umm... have you?" Starsky asked, suddenly shy.
"No, I can't," Sugar offered sadly, "not since Jamie". He brightened then - playing the part - and swooshed away flamboyantly to his room. "As I said, I enjoy giving pleasure to my friends" he called back over his shoulder with a grin.
Hutch leaned forward to gently kiss Starsky on the mouth, asking "Your place, or mine?"
"Mine's closer, remember?"