crack_van | Certain Mendacity by Vedette Ciel NC17

Hi, My name is Tat and I have taken the van for the month. I haven't driven't it before so watch out ;-))

Fandom: Starsky & Hutch

Pairing:Starsky/Hutch
Length: Long Series
Author on LJ: http://vedette-ciel.livejournal.com, http://community.livejournal.com/starskyhutch911
Author Website: http://meandthee.shahrazad.net/author.php?authorid=131
Why this must be read:

August of 1980 Starsky have returmed to duty and the guys seems to be better than before but something small is differend in the air but then the guys meet almost parallely a new lady. and that's is only the beginning.......

This is not a story for the faint of heart the author named it a thriler for a reason. It touch disturbing topics and have many hair raising scenes but it is also the closer to the series story that I ever read, is like you are waching a long and one of best episode. The enotions, the actions is all the guys, just a step further.

It is also one of the most heart breaking romantic!!!! whatever I could tell you it is not enough, just read it...
I will give you just the merest taste...

Hutch went to pull away, he had to get some coffee started. But Starsky squeezed his forearms hard. “No! Don’t go.” And pulled him an inch from his face.

Hutch could see the light in his eyes, from the dim nightlight glow of the hallway. At this distance, Starsky looked okay, and he didn’t smell like he’d drank very much.

Then in a second’s hiccup, Starsky took Hutch’s cheeks and leaned in for a kiss, a wet and wonderful kiss, with mouth locked, pushed, then pulled away quickly, making a smacking noise heard around the world.

Hutch yanked away. “What are you doing?”

Starsky grabbed him again, coaxing gently. “Kiss me, Hutch. Kiss me back.” He did it again, he did. This time his tongue lunged in to Hutch’s open mouth that was trying to say no to, to this ridiculous notion, this, this delicious coaxing, this, Hutch was losing a battle he didn’t know he was in. All of a sudden these lips, far from frail or narrow, these tender, full figured lips were the perfect portion…

Sinking, Hutch bent his head for a better sweet contortion as his tongue abandoned its need for words and instead craved the tip of Starsky’s asking, demanding one. It was sugared with a hint of chocolate, and a taste of rum, and his tongue continued to desire it until Starsky's gentle release left no sound this time, just a wisp of magic. Then gone.

Hutch stood there numb. Tongue numb. What happened here? Starsky took Hutch’s two hands in his. He was full of demands now. He needed to know something real bad. “Take your hands and touch my chest, Hutch.” Starsky placed Hutch’s hands there mechanically. Hutch didn’t move them, just stood, a mannequin. Starsky pulled on his own shirt buttons, opening it. He moved Hutch’s hands to his breastplate, then smoothed them across to cover each breast holding his hands above them.

Starsky lowered his head. “Feels good, Hutch.”

Hutch found his shaky voice. “Starsk, what--”

“It feels safe, Hutch. Please do it. Just for a minute.”

Hutch did was he was told, Starsky was talking to his soul, and his soul wouldn’t let him go without anything, not even the smallest need.

Starsky could tell Hutch knew him. The nipples didn’t hurt or send a jolt. “She--she tried to touch me there. And I, I couldn’t let her---”

Now the situation fell into place. Hutch understood. He tried to pull away a little, but Starsky begged with his eyes.

They fell into an embrace. They had to. There was nowhere to go but close, and yet, as the kiss that overpowered both of them distanced in time from the embrace, it all was the same somehow, a desperate attempt to hold on, Hutch thought, that’s what it was. Something that the alcohol brought on to get reassured that everything was okay to go forward, that’s all it was, Hutch concluded.

Starsky appeared unsteady and shaky all of a sudden, like he was fighting small shivers. Hutch pulled him forward and gripped his hand, coaxing him with small sentences that he’d help him to bed.

It didn’t take long for Starsky to just about pass out on top of the covers once he got there. Hutch sighed and got to undressing him from the formal clothes he didn’t wear too often. But when he got to the pants, he saw the open fly.

He stopped a minute and stood up, looking at him. So he had gone through with it, bedding this Charlie. He was just all mixed up about the scars, because it was his first time, and it probably was shocking or uncomfortable, the skin was taut in places, the nerve endings scrambled. With a new person that didn’t know him, that hadn’t rubbed lotion there or helped him bathe, they wouldn’t know how to handle the area.

Hutch finished his task, getting him down to his shorts, and covered by the quilt. Starsky was definitely out.

Hutch walked to the doorway, then looked back. The moonlight on his face through the window, it lit up those lips. Those wonderful lips. Hutch touched his own for a minute, suddenly lonely. He walked back to the bed. He had to, he just had to. He bent down, and made the contact again, very tender, very chaste. It wasn’t enough. It was too good.

He lifted. Waited. He did it again, this time running his tongue against the inner rim. That wasn’t chocolate. That was Starsky. And it was too beautiful for words, or to ever taste again.

He straightened himself and walked out, not daring another look into the moonlit face, into a place he couldn’t go.

Certain Mendacity: http://community.livejournal.com/starskyhutch911/196555.html#cutid1

Vedette is a Wich in the way she is using the words and will capture before you know it.