Partners in Grime
by Paula Wilshe

"Man, that was wonderful," Hutch sighed in bliss, and draped an arm across Starsky's midsection.

Starsky tugged at his partner's wrist, brought it up to his lips, and gently kissed Hutch's thumb. "What?" he asked, as Hutch chuckled.

"Your lips are still sticky," Hutch told him, brushing at them with an index finger.

Starsky's tongue snaked out and licked a knuckle. "Tasted so good, babe," he sighed. "So good."

"So you're saving some for later?" Hutch asked him mildly.

"Well, sure," Starsky answered. He leaned over and kissed Hutch on the lips. "You're all sticky too, you know," he pointed out.

"Yeah," Hutch agreed. "I guess I am." He cleared his throat once, then again.

"Whatsa matter?" Starsky asked, turning his head on the pillow to look at Hutch carefully. "You gotta sore throat or something?"

"No," Hutch massaged his neck and swallowed hard. "I think there's some stuck in there is all."

"Ah," Starsky replied, a smug smile on his face. "I was afraid I was givin' you too much."

"Never," Hutch shook his head emphatically. "Never too much." He leaned over and kissed Starsky on the nose.

"I can't believe you licked it off me," Starsky teased him playfully. "You never did that before."

"Never knew what I was missing," Hutch teased back. "You know, we oughta," he continued softly, dropping a line of kisses down his partner's jaw, "We oughta do this more often."

"I think you're right," Starsky agreed, closing his eyes dreamily. He opened one, and cast a cerulean eye on his partner. "You think we should take a shower or something?"

"Nah," Hutch leaned over him, drinking in the essence of the man with whom he shared his life. "I think we should just cuddle up and go to sleep like this."

"All sticky?"

"All sticky," he repeated. "That was like...the best it's ever been." He smiled shyly. "Thanks, Starsk."

"For what?"

"Talking me into that."

"Aw, Hutch." Starsky hugged him tight. "I told you over and over. You just never believed me."

"I believe you now," Hutch breathed. "I love you."

"Love you too, Hutch." Starsky squeezed him again. "So next time I say I want to do this, you're game?"

"I sure am," Hutch agreed. "I think we should make it a regular thing. Maybe like once a week?"

"I could go for that," Starsky said, nodding. "How about, like, Wednesdays? That would break up the week a little bit."

"Wednesdays are great," Hutch said sleepily. "That settles it. Every Wednesday night from now on..."

"Come hell or high water."

"Come hell or high water, in sickness and in health,"

"In sickness and in health,"

"For better or for worse,"

"For better or for worse," Starsky echoed. "Each and every Wednesday night..."

"...We eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in bed," Hutch finished firmly. He swallowed hard again. "But we remember to buy milk to wash it down."

"It's a deal," finished his partner. Starsky snuggled down under the covers, then lifted the side of the blanket to brush at some crumbs. "Night, Hutch."

"Night, babe." Hutch turned over, sated and content, eyes drooping, asleep as soon as golden lashes fluttered closed.

The End

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