KimberlyFDR (
kimberlyfdr.livejournal.com) wrote in
crack_van2006-07-17 09:25 pm
Entry tags:
Let's Not Talk About That by Jat Sapphire (R)
Fandom: STARSKY/HUTCH
Pairing: Starsky/Hutch
Why this must be read: Starsky's telling a bedtime story and Hutch has to listen, but he does more than that. He adds to the situation with hands-on activities.
"Wait," said Hutch, voice low.
Starsky wouldn't. "She played me like a guitar," he said.
"Wait," Hutch repeated. "See? You waste it. Think about the guitar, Starsk." His voice sank even lower. Starsky listened, loving it that Hutch had been drawn in. "The way a guitar looks. The smoothness of the wood. The shape of it ..." and the tips of Hutch's fingers, the light edge of his clipped nails, moved around the curve of Starsky's ass, in to his waist, out to his upper ribs, back down the diagonal of that guitarlike curve, not as pronounced as a woman's, but there. Starsky shivered.
Hutch sat up and bent over Starsky's body. "And the strings," he said, his fingers strumming through the hair just below Starsky's navel.
"I -- I'm glad she didn't use a pick," Starsky said, trying to joke though he'd closed his eyes at the sensation.
The two of them have an on-again/off-again kind of sexual relationship. Starsky's more in favor of the on-again if you ask him. And Hutch is not really that big a fan of bedtime stories, especially when it cuts into his one on one time with Starsky.
Let's Not Talk About That
Pairing: Starsky/Hutch
Why this must be read: Starsky's telling a bedtime story and Hutch has to listen, but he does more than that. He adds to the situation with hands-on activities.
"Wait," said Hutch, voice low.
Starsky wouldn't. "She played me like a guitar," he said.
"Wait," Hutch repeated. "See? You waste it. Think about the guitar, Starsk." His voice sank even lower. Starsky listened, loving it that Hutch had been drawn in. "The way a guitar looks. The smoothness of the wood. The shape of it ..." and the tips of Hutch's fingers, the light edge of his clipped nails, moved around the curve of Starsky's ass, in to his waist, out to his upper ribs, back down the diagonal of that guitarlike curve, not as pronounced as a woman's, but there. Starsky shivered.
Hutch sat up and bent over Starsky's body. "And the strings," he said, his fingers strumming through the hair just below Starsky's navel.
"I -- I'm glad she didn't use a pick," Starsky said, trying to joke though he'd closed his eyes at the sensation.
The two of them have an on-again/off-again kind of sexual relationship. Starsky's more in favor of the on-again if you ask him. And Hutch is not really that big a fan of bedtime stories, especially when it cuts into his one on one time with Starsky.
Let's Not Talk About That
