Work Text:
Instruction Manual for Kenneth Hutchinson
By M&M
Or, how to maintain and fine-tune a lifelong best ever partner-in-all-ways
The fastest way to short circuit (in the good way) Hutch’s brain is to run my fingernails up the back of his thighs. The funnest way is Starsky Logic. The longest way is a warm, wet tongue applied to every inch of him except his magnum. Just remember doing this can cause it to go off without warning and he packs a lot of ammo, so make him clean the mirror. And my hair. The crudest way is to moon him. (Hoping it’ll get to the point Hutch can’t roll his eyes without getting an erection)
As annoying as it can get, praise Hutch using that 'positronic reinforcement' like the K9 squad uses (a kiss for Hutch; not a kibble or bits) when he quotes Shakespeare or that Arab guy among other word-heavy dudes. (That Arab, Kahili Gibbon, wrote something like, “My life is more important than yours because you are my life” - Hutch said he kinda shortened it a bit. Melted me like a chocolate bar in the hot sun and then I let him lick me...) When he whispers “Me and Thee” in my ear while he’s stroking my hair after our lovin’, I can feel his breath all the way down to my toenails. Who knows what else he’s got in that big brain of his that’ll tickle my fancy and my nuts?
Don’t mention you know about Hutch’s Monty Python’s Flying Circus video cassettes. The guy does deserve some secrets. Ideas: get him some Spam for his next birthday; talk him into getting a parrot. (Note to self: teach the freakin’ bird the ‘I’m a Lumberjack’ song.)
Hutch’s song book is his version of a personal journal, but more honest, so only tell him you really like those songs. That’s honest, too, ‘cause he’s never written a crummy one.
I swear he’ll pick a fight just to have sex both ways – angry then make up. Of course, let ‘im. (I ain’t no dummy.)
Keep a list of subjects that get him going, just in case he can’t get fractious on his own. Some things that can always get his tongue and motor going (first one way, then the other):
-- Music related: “All that…
…Jazz sounds like they can’t decide what to play or even what key to play in”
…Country-Western sounds like they’re all ready to drink the bar dry and dance like squares, or force the listener into doing it”
…Classical sounds the same”
-- Technology stuff: “Computers are the best thing for humanity’s future”
-- Any modern art: “That picture looks like the floor, walls, and residents of the drunk tank on Sunday morning”
Make sure he’s always got a cause, ‘cause white knights need a cause (or they feel lost and think they’re worthless). Or a windmill if a cause isn’t showing itself (and seeing him go righteous on something (other than me) is sexy-scary)
Say “I love you” at least once a day and show him you love his flaws as well as his perfections, which, face it, are too many to count. (Too many people said “I love you” to Hutch, but they only meant when he was a better student, more ambitious, made more money, etc. Damned fools.)
-- My favorite so-called flaw: that divot in the middle of his chest. Actually, it comes in handy. If I lay my head just right on his chest, my nose don’t get squashed. A close second is his stammer. Only shows up when he’s stressed. He’s so vulnerable then, and I get to help him un-stress, and I have a whole long list of what I can use to make that happen.
-- Favorite perfection (damn! there’s so many!): The way his eyes light up when he looks at me or when he puts clues together, but mostly when he looks at me when he wants me. Close second: His shoulder-length hair; I get a big kick running my hand from his neck to the top of his head and watching that gorgeous hair fan out. Close third: The way he treats the street people on our beat with respect and kindness.
Don’t be stupid and confess to Hutch that I actually like green beans. I’d be an idiot if I didn’t do my part in proving his theory that they’re Viking aphrodisiacs (like I need any aphrodisiac other than Hutch himself). I’ll keep making that face and keep gettin’ good lovin’.
-- Now that Hutch responds enthusiastically to the smell of cinnamon (a Starsky aphrodisiac), keep stocked up on scented candles, breath mints, flavored lube, fabric softener, etc.
Don’t let Hutch know I’m onto his scheme of “misdirection by chocolate.” Smell of M&Ms, Snickers, and Kit Kats (great for sharing) everywhere? You know that means it’s time to snoop for both presents and chocolate! Gawd, I love March and December! But not more than I love that big lummox.
Every year, go on vacation wherever he wants during the week that has May 15 in it. Be sure to pack our guitars and his song book. (And don’t forget the emergency real food stash!)
Pretty much do anything for him, whether he asks or not.
the end
November 2020
