Quiet Night In
by Candy Apple
(A missing scene "tag" for Ep501, "The Best Thing,")

SHSVS Missing Scene Showcase

**********

It was a little cool and a bit cloudy, the kind of day that disappoints most beach-goers. To Starsky, it seemed perfect. The private stretch of beach beneath the bluff where they had shared their first kiss the night before was peaceful and quiet except for the sound of the waves and the occasional cry of a seagull. They'd taken their time traveling down the long flight of wooden steps that led to the beach from the bluff, and Hutch had outlined in no uncertain terms just how slowly they'd make the return ascent, and how many pauses for rest would be taken. Walking along the shore with Hutch, hand-in-hand, Starsky felt as if he could scale that configuration of rock and grass without benefit of stairs.

The fine blond hair was doing its usual dance with the breeze, the light blue shirt Hutch wore loose over his jeans billowing a little as they walked. The long legs ended in rolled up jeans and bare feet that left their marks in the moist sand. Starsky had also just pulled on his jeans and thrown on a shirt, rolling up his own jeans into cuffs so they could meander out close to where the ocean kissed the sand.

This precious day was a gift. They were bound to face a lot of hardships and obstacles once the real world intruded on the magic that had grown between them out here, but for now, they were still safely wrapped in this fantasy, with nothing to distract them from loving each other and savoring each other's company. There was no reason not to hold hands, and no reason not to make love right there on the beach. Starsky fervently hoped Hutch would be willing to do just that.

"Penny for your thoughts," Hutch said, smiling as he looked at Starsky, who smiled back. He couldn't remember seeing Hutch this relaxed in weeks.

"Just thinking about lovin' you," Starsky answered honestly. "Thinking I was glad you showed up here last night."

"We'll have to send Anita some flowers."

"Or leave her a decent tip for a change," Starsky quipped, and Hutch chuckled, but it was a little hollow. "What's wrong, babe?"

"You went to a lot of trouble to be sure I couldn't find you."

"I just needed time to think, that's all. I knew I'd take one look at you and not be able to go through with calling it quits. So I figured I had to be on my own to think things through."

"Just don't take off on me again, Starsk. If things are rough, or I screw up, or something happens and we hurt each other...just don't...run away."

"This wasn't about running away. I didn't leave because I was mad at you for something."

"I know that. But you left to solve something that was between us, and I don't want to be left out of those decisions."

"That's fair." Starsky sighed. "Leaving wasn't exactly the right move, but stayin' didn't seem to be working out so great, either. I knew I'd never have the guts to tell you to your face what I wrote in the letter. I knew it would hurt too much and I couldn't do it."

"I just want you to get one thing straight," Hutch said, stopping and turning to face Starsky. "I want you. Only you." Hutch smiled softly, taking a hold of Starsky's free hand so he held both tightly. "I think it's always really only been you."

"I wanna do something real special for you, Blondie." Starsky moved in for a long kiss, then pulled back, grinning.

"We left a blanket back there by the steps," Hutch inclined his head in that direction.

"Guess we don't wanna get sand in any bad places," Starsky conceded, smiling mischievously as they walked hand-in-hand back to the spot where they'd left their little stash of supplies.

Hutch spread out the blanket while Starsky peeked under the lid of the picnic basket Hutch had packed. He could see there was wine and cheese in there, but he wasn't very interested in food at the moment. When Hutch reached toward him, he half expected the lid to be slapped down, since he'd been snooping into the goodies his partner had somewhat surreptitiously assembled, most likely to surprise Starsky. Instead, the hand cradled his chin and pressed upward gently until their eyes met.

"I love you so much, babe. I'm so glad you're here with me," Hutch managed, his eyes bright with moisture. "I...I'm just...I'm glad you're here," he repeated, and Starsky understood what he'd been thinking. Wishing he could erase the memories of their close call from his lover's mind to free him of the pain and the torment and the lingering fear those memories brought with them, Starsky pulled him into a tight embrace.

It felt good to have the strength to do so many things again, but mostly, it felt good to hug Hutch back. All the times Hutch had held him, hugged him, soothed him, lifted him...all Starsky could do then was hold on weakly and absorb that love and strength. Now he could give it back--he could hold Hutch, and he could share his strength. Hutch had been so solicitous and attentive throughout Starsky's recovery, and he'd taken each setback so hard...it was as if he'd been willing his very life force into Starsky, and had sapped himself of much of his own strength in the process.

"I'm here, Hutch. I'm fine and I'm here. I'm never gonna leave you again." Starsky knew it was an impossible promise to make, but at that moment, he meant it with all his heart. Even death had taken a back seat to the love and connection he felt with Hutch. Huggy had been a bit unnerved by the fact that as Hutch slammed through the doors and ran down the hospital corridor, Starsky's heart had lurched back to life, just when the doctor was about to pronounce him dead. He'd relayed that story with some uneasy joking about timing being everything. Starsky knew timing had little to do with it--it was love. Love so powerful it wouldn't let him go even when his body tried.

"If you try, I'll hunt you down like a dog," Hutch responded, his voice a little shaky but holding definite humor. "I know who you know, what you know and how you know it, and there ain't no way around that," he added, pulling back as Starsky started laughing, hearing the echo of his own words from their last ill-fated game of hide-and-seek.

"Good. 'Cause I don't want a way around it," Starsky said, pressing a soft kiss against Hutch's lips, "ever."

They fell back together on the blanket, wrapped in each other's arms, kisses deepening. Starsky could feel Hutch's arousal under the denim, the warm firmness of it against his exploring hand sending shivers down his spine. Hutch was big, and he was powerful...he wasn't small and fragile and soft like a woman. They were equals in every way...at least, Starsky hoped they would be again someday. Still, held here in Hutch's arms, exchanging breath-stealing kisses, feeling the urgency and the passion of his partner directed at him, Starsky knew the ultimate performance of his healed body in a gym wasn't what made him precious to this man. All he had to do to be precious and necessary to Hutch was to simply exist.

He unbuttoned Hutch's jeans and pulled the zipper down carefully, breaking the embrace to slide one hand protectively under the metal teeth. Since their walk on the beach had followed a long morning of nude lovemaking among the pillows in the living room, all they'd done was grab the handiest clothing to cover themselves to go down to the beach. Underwear had seemed an unnecessary inconvenience. He smiled as he heard a breathy sigh from Hutch as the rigid cock sprang free. It was warm and silky and hard in Starsky's hand, and he pumped it gently.

"C'mere, babe. Let me--"

"Shh," Starsky interrupted. "This is just for you, darlin'. Because I love ya so much." Starsky smiled then, and Hutch returned it, putting his arm up behind him and resting his head on it, watching Starsky and lifting his hips as Starsky worked the tight jeans down the long, sturdy legs and then tossed them aside. Starsky felt the uncomfortable tightness of his own jeans now, but ignored it. He wanted to approach this act with the single-minded concentration it deserved.

"Starsk, what...?" Hutch sounded stunned as Starsky wrapped one hand around the base of the impressive cock and engulfed the head of it in his mouth. He hoped what he lacked in experience and technique, he could make up for with love and enthusiasm. He'd never thought there could be anything positive about sucking another man's cock, and before he could let all the doubts and fears and introspection freeze him from making love to Hutch the way he wanted to, he just...jumped in.

As Hutch moaned with a sound that was almost a desperate whimper of pleasure, the world became very small, and all the negative things society, cops, relatives, politicians, religious elders or shocked friends might think of this act didn't exist. The only thing that existed was the vulnerable and yet powerful part of Hutch that Starsky held captive, wrapped in his hand and entrapped in his mouth. Smooth, firm and salty at the tip, there was no moment of horror to overcome, no terrible sense of diminishing manhood, just the hard column of flesh in his mouth, at his mercy...one more part of Hutch over which he had the frightening power to hurt or love. One more part of himself, along with his heart and his will to live, that Hutch was entrusting to him.

He sucked gently at first, knowing what he liked to feel but having no idea how the person on the giving end would accomplish that. He ran his tongue along the underside, and when Hutch grunted a bit uncomfortably, realized he'd forgotten to keep his teeth completely off the sensitive skin. He drew back and kissed it in apology, then took Hutch into his mouth again and, careful to keep his teeth from scraping, started sucking. He increased the intensity, and when Hutch gasped and moaned in pleasure, he knew he was doing something right. He angled his head so he could run his tongue along the slit, tasting the fluid beginning to emerge there. He used his other hand to gently cup and roll the heavy balls.

"Starsk...oh, babe...God, it's good. So good," Hutch encouraged breathlessly. If Starsky had dared smile, he would have. He wanted badly to move his hand and swallow Hutch whole, but he knew he'd never manage it, probably hurt his mouth and throat in the process, and then Hutch would be so consumed with guilt that it would ruin everything. So, despite his temptation, he kept his hand gently in place, more to control himself than Hutch.

Soon, he felt Hutch try to pull back, and Starsky knew what that meant. He reached up with his free hand and laced his fingers with Hutch's, holding on tightly. Stay right where you are, you beautiful blond. I'm not finished with you yet.

When Hutch came, he let out a cry of Starsky's name that was accompanied by the cry of seagulls and the motion of waves on the water. Bitter fluid flooded Starsky's mouth, and he did his best to take it all, though he lost a bit and coughed a little as he tried to keep up with the swallowing. Still, he refused to release the softening cock until it had given him all it had. Until it had shared with him all of Hutch that it would surrender. He kissed the tender flesh gently, and licked the escaped fluid off his lips. Hutch reached down and grasped his shoulders then, pulling upward until Starsky lay against him, and they kissed, deeply.

"I don't know what to say," Hutch admitted in a whisper. "That was amazing. You're amazing." Hutch smiled, that sweet, sappy, goofy smile that spread over those beautiful features when Hutch was head-over-heels in love. Only this time, it was directed at Starsky. His heart swelled at that thought, and he kissed Hutch again.

"We're amazing." He ran his fingertips over Hutch's strong, perfect features, and smiled when his hand was caught and kissed thoroughly, fingers, palm and back.

"Somebody's getting sick of waiting," Hutch teased, slipping a hand down to gently squeeze the bulge in Starsky's jeans. Starsky couldn't help but groan against Hutch's neck. Just getting his pants open would be a joy in itself. Anything Hutch did to him beyond that would be heaven. He was so achingly hard now that the motion of Hutch's hands on the button and zipper of the jeans was nearly enough to finish him. He eagerly lifted his hips so Hutch could get the restrictive jeans out of their way.

Though he knew it shouldn't matter so much, he was overjoyed when Hutch left his shirt just as it was. They were probably both a sight out there on the beach, loose shirts still in place, naked from the waist down, but for just this moment in time, Starsky knew he didn't look any different to his partner than he ever had. The evidence of Gunther's hit was hidden from view, as was the unmarred perfection of the expanse of Hutch's chest and belly. No comparisons.... Starsky knew it wasn't Hutch making comparisons. In his head, he knew. In his heart, he still wanted to hide behind a shirt.

"Feeling okay, buddy?" Hutch asked, looking concerned now.

"Fine. Feeling great. Got a feeling I'm gonna feel even better in a minute," Starsky teased, reaching up to push some flyaway hair off Hutch's face. "Sometimes I just get to lookin' at you and forget about everything else."

"When I look at you, there isn't anything else, because you're already everything," Hutch said sincerely, his voice shaking just a little. He moved in for a kiss then, before moving down between Starsky's parted thighs.

"You don't have to do it because I did it," Starsky said, worried that Hutch felt a need to show his willingness to "repay" what Starsky had done.

"I want to do it. I probably won't be much good at it--"

"My technique wouldn't'a won any medals either, babe," Starsky responded with a chuckle.

"Got us to the finish line, didn't it?"

"Yours will, too, Blintz. Just make love to me. Whatever you do's gonna be great 'cause it's you doin' it."

Hutch smiled at that, and moved down to nuzzle the warm skin just below Starsky's navel, pushing the shirt out of the way. He kissed a path down to the dark curls at the base of the rigid shaft, and wrapped one of those large, warm hands around it, pumping gently. Starsky groaned and thrust into the familiar hand, and expected Hutch would either take him in his mouth or finish him this way. Instead, he felt a touch that was maddeningly light and heart-breakingly gentle at the same time. Those full lips were kissing the head of his cock. Then they were sliding down its length, sucking Starsky's cock into the wet heat until the lips bumped into the fingers of the hand still holding the base.

"Watch the teeth, babe," Starsky cautioned gently, feeling only a little accidental scrape. Whatever Hutch did with his mouth then, he covered the offending teeth and began to suck harder, his tongue swirling around the head. Cursing the fact he didn't quite have the flexibility and stamina yet to hold himself up and watch longer, Starsky relaxed back on the blanket, closing his eyes and soaking up the wonderful sensations, letting go freely with his moans of pleasure, wanting Hutch to know how much he was loving this.

Hutch's hand was gently squeezing and massaging his balls now, teasing the sensitive skin behind them. As Hutch ventured to move his hand from the base of the long cock in his mouth, Starsky did his best not to thrust upward too hard into the virgin mouth that surrounded him. Hutch's hand found his and laced their fingers.

"Hutch...love you...I'm gonna...." Starsky felt his body stiffening and arching, glad the hand he wasn't holding was on his hip now, helping moderate the instinct to thrust. As he came, he shouted Hutch's name, squeezing the hand laced with his, loving that Hutch was doing his somewhat clumsy best to drink him down. Neither of them had perfected his technique yet, but Starsky sighed as he relaxed, thinking of how wonderful it would be to keep trying.

"Rest, babe. I'm right here," Hutch was whispering in his ear, and Starsky knew he was drifting. It was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to him, and he was falling asleep.

"That was...." Starsky managed to pull Hutch in for a long kiss. "Love you."

"Love you too, buddy. Let your body rest. We've been giving it a real workout today," Hutch said gently, a smile in his voice as he gathered Starsky close in his arms and pulled up a corner of the blanket to cover their naked lower halves.

**********

It was cooler when Starsky opened his eyes. There was still no sunshine, so it was hard to figure just what time of day it was. He was still in Hutch's arms and not eager to relinquish the comfortable position. Finally, he looked up and saw two beautiful blue eyes looking back down at him, filled with more love than it seemed any one human deserved.

"Hey," Hutch said quietly, smiling. "Have a good sleep?"

"Yeah. How long was I out?"

"I don't know," Hutch said, shrugging and smiling brightly. Another joyful, semi-sappy Hutchinson I'm-so-in-love-I-can't-see-straight smile. Starsky figured he could never tell Hutch how much those smiles meant to him, so he settled for kissing the little hollow at the base of Hutch's throat.

"I'm crazy about you, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know. Feeling's mutual. You want to put some pants on and have a little wine?"

"What, there's a dress code?" Starsky asked, sliding a hand around to squeeze one large, firm buttock. "I'm not gonna pour the wine in my pants, so what do I need 'em for?"

"You want to sit here on our bare asses and drink wine?"

"Why not?" Starsky asked simply, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He took in a deep breath of the fresh ocean air. "Wish we never had to go home."

"Me, too, buddy. This is like paradise." Hutch sat up next to him now, reaching for their picnic basket. He handed Starsky a glass, took one for himself and then pulled out the wine. "It was cold when I took it out of the fridge, but it's probably a little tepid by now."

"Isn't that the stuff you said we couldn't afford?"

"So? We'll pinch our pennies for a few weeks." Hutch worked the corkscrew with the panache of an expert, popping the cork smoothly before filling Starsky's glass.

"You got any food in there?" Starsky lifted the lid on the picnic basket with his finger.

"Our host had quite an assortment of gourmet cheeses. I made a list of what we took so we can tell Huggy to get us a bill."

"Something tells me our 'host' can afford it. Part'a me still wants to know what this guy does for a living."

"Really?" Hutch smiled, raising an eyebrow as he unloaded a couple of containers that held neatly cubed pieces of the cheeses.

"Maybe not."

"We should toast or something," Hutch said, holding up his glass, still smiling. Starsky was trying to remember the last time he'd seen Hutch smile so much.

"How about just drinking to loving each other as much as we can, as long as we can...every way we can think of," Starsky added, flexing his eyebrows wickedly. Hutch laughed with him, and they clinked glasses before taking their first drink of wine.

"Try this," Hutch said, holding up a cube of cheese. Starsky grinned and took it in his mouth, sucking and licking at the fingers that held it before moving away again. Starsky mirrored the gesture, amazed at how hot it could be just to have Hutch sucking his finger. With Hutch, even his fingers felt like erogenous zones. Every part of him felt treasured.

"Wish we'd'a brought the guitar down with us," Starsky said, thinking how much he'd love to hear Hutch's soft voice singing him something--anything. Even the latest insurance commercial jingle.

"I'll do what I can without the guitar, if you want," Hutch offered, almost shyly.

"All I really wanna hear is your voice, babe." Starsky moved closer and Hutch pulled him close, one arm around him while he still held his wine with the other hand. Though he rested his head against Hutch's shoulder, Starsky could still sip his own drink.

Tonight, tonight let's not go anywhere,
Let's turn the latch on the door,
And if the phone should ring,
Then let's just let it,
The way we have before.

And let's have a quiet night in,
Together by the fireside.
We can talk without anyone else
Around to hear...

Hutch tightened his hold, and his hand slipped into Starsky's hair. He turned his head and kissed Starsky's forehead, then rested his head against Starsky's.

Every night it seems the music plays,
Voices talk too loud,
I seem to lose you in the crowd
'Til it's time to go.

Starsky closed his eyes and listened to that sweet, light voice caressing him almost as lovingly as the physical caresses they'd shared earlier. Sometimes he marveled that someone as beautiful and talented as Hutch could possibly have found happiness in his world, working a gritty, dangerous job, and loving another man who was a far cry from perfect when he could have his choice of curvaceous beauties.

So tonight, tonight, let's not see anyone,
If the party's on, we're not free,
I hardly see you now more than a minute,
So just this once for me,

Let's have a quiet night in,
Together by the fireside.
We can dance in the candlelight
Just as well alone.

Taking the words as a promise of things to come for the evening, Starsky smiled and thought about slow dancing in the candlelight, kissing by the fireside, falling asleep in each other's arms. The thought of how close they'd come to not having this chilled him, but not enough to dispel the warm glow of the love he felt inside.

It's time for a heart to heart,
Before I'm left behind you...

Starsky heard almost a raw pain in the voice on those words, and he kissed Hutch's neck. I'm so sorry I hurt you, darlin'. I'll never leave you. Probably couldn't have left you this time, even if I'd followed through on trying.

Don't they say every night at a party
Soon wears thin?
Let's have a quiet night in,
We can dance in the candlelight
Just as well alone.

Let's have a quiet night home
Together, just this time.

Hutch ended his song by kissing his biggest fan gently on the lips.

"That was beautiful," Starsky said quietly. "You should'a been famous, not--"

"If I'd been a famous singer, I wouldn't have you. Don't wish that on me." Hutch was silent a moment, then the hand in his hair flexed gently. "Besides, you're my best audience. You don't even notice when I hit a flat note."

"You don't hit flat notes," Starsky protested, sitting up.

"Like I was saying," Hutch responded, laughing softly. He reached over and cupped Starsky's cheek in one large hand.

"Loving you doesn't make me tone deaf." Starsky covered the hand with his own. "I still say you've got a voice like...like...like a cool breeze on a summer day." Starsky felt even that was inadequate, but it was the closest he could come to capturing the beauty of the sound in words.

"M-maybe we ought to go up to the house and get comfortable, huh?" Hutch asked, his voice a bit strained. The little stutter and slight flush that spread over his fair complexion told Starsky that his compliment had touched and moved his partner deeply.

"Okay. It's gettin' chilly out here."

"It was your idea to sit here with no pants on," Hutch reminded, laughing as he got up and pulled on his jeans. Starsky followed suit, laughing a little, too.

"It wasn't such a bad idea, was it? Not like we can sit around on the beach at home with no pants on."

"Can't argue with that," Hutch said, shaking his head. "All set to start the trek? Now remember, we're taking it slow with lots of breaks to rest," Hutch added as they approached the long flight of wooden steps. Only the picnic basket in one hand and the supporting hand under the elbow he seemed to think Starsky needed for the ascent kept him from adding emphasis with a wag of his finger.

"Yes, Doctor," Starsky teased as they started up the first few steps. Breaking Hutch's contact with his elbow and putting his arm firmly around his lover's waist, Starsky smiled when Hutch's arm came up around his shoulders. "Let's get up to the house so we can get started on our quiet night in."

**********

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