WHAT'S IN A WORD?

Disclaimer: I own no part of these two boys - but I'd do anything to do so. I make no money from them, but get paid big time in the joy they bring me.

Warnings: It's interim therapy for my dark epics...so I turned up the heat a little bit. If you don't like it a little hot, don't taste it.

Starsky was bored.

Well not bored as in the sense that he had nothing to do, nothing to occupy him. In fact his everyday life and its fluctuating and prevailing demands really allowed little time for him to feel bored - not in the true sense of the word.

Maybe 'bored' wasn't the word for it. He rubbed at his jaw, scratched absently at his furred mid rift and regarded his bare feet where they lay propped on the end of the couch. They had been rudely placed there at least three times in the past ten minutes by two big hands that were intent on shoving them away. Hutch did not like – no in fact – he "really hated", how Starsky's hairy-topped feet kept messing with his attempt to get his "down time" as he called it, with the novel he had been reading.

One he had been reading for the past week, at every conceivable spare moment. Or so it seemed to Starsky.

Starsky resented that novel in his partner's hands. It was not as though he wanted to deny his partner his relaxation time but Hutch and novels just left Starsky feeling shut out.

It was like Hutch had gone away. AWOL – Hutch had left the room while his long lean blond body still remained – but the inside of him, the important parts, the parts that gave Starsky attention, had gone away and left him all alone.

It made his "bored' feeling even worse. Didn't actually cause it – just made it more pronounced.

Bored, bored, bored.

No, there was surely a better word for it. English was not his forte – particularly when it came to defining complex emotions and thoughts in any fancy expressive way.

"Eloquent" that was a word – that was a word he had heard Hutch use so many times – usually in describing what Hutch considered that his partner lacked.

"Starsk – you do lack – a certain eloquence…"

And - well that was true. Starsky knew it. His skills lay in different areas. He did lack eloquence. He also knew that it was true that Hutch had it in spades.

So if 'bored' didn't fit the bill, he suddenly had a deep-seated need to tag the correct word and attach it to his current feeling. Starsky knew where to find the answer.

Hutch would know – Hutch always had the right word, and even if he was irritable and moody which he had been of late, he couldn't help himself to deliver it up to Starsky. It was what Hutch did – provide the correct word, even if Starsky usually got to provide the last.

Starsky turned his attention from simply looking at his big toe to pulling it back and digging it hard into Hutch's side. It was a risk he knew, but when Hutch realized there was a challenge for him, an intellectual challenge, he would forget that Starsky had just dug him hard under his armpit with his toe and rudely interrupted his reverie.

"Starsky! I am trying to read here. Do you mind?"

"Hutch – what's another word for 'bored'?"

"What the hell are you getting at now?"

"I'm searching for some better word or words...better than just plain old 'bored'."

The pressed lips and gritted teeth of only a moment before, were replaced by a mild look of consternation.

There it was! Yes already he had him. Flashing anger quickly fell away when the enticement of a verbal challenge softened the annoying toe jab.

"Bored? Let me see…Ah….'uninterested', 'tired', 'jaded' "

"Nah – those aren't it either. I need a different sort of word altogether. Those sure aren't the right ones either. "

Hutch looked a little taken aback - as though his verbal prowess had been questioned.

"They're not? But they mean the same as 'bored'. They're perfect synonyms. I don't get you?"

"Maybe they are, but they're still not right. I'm looking for a word that is more than – more than just 'bored' – a bigger word, a more descriptive word – a better word. 'Bored' isn't enough. It just doesn't cut it."

"Cut what?"

"The meaning."

"Where is the meaning? Can't see a crossword, a puzzle, a book – what are you talking about Starsky?"

"Its just in my head – a feeling I need to describe better."

"Oh you mean you are having a thought. You're thinking Starsky! When did this start?"

"Hey, funny man, if you're not up to it, if you can't come up with the goods forget it. Go back to your boring book."

"My book is not boring. Not when I can actually read it through the forest of hairs sticking out from your damn ankles that you insist on thrusting under my nose. Now, getting back to this word or words you're after - if I understand you correctly here, what you are saying is that you want to define a certain feeling. A feeling that you have been having lately is that right."

Yep, Hutch sure loved an intellectual challenge.

"Define? Yes that is even better than 'describe'. You know, you're so good at this stuff Hutch. A real natural."

"Ha! Flattery is so not going to work with me buddy – I know your style and your moves remember. I'm your partner - not some bimbo from down in records or some waitress at Huggy's. Now 'bored'. Tell me more about the feelings then – give me some ideas of what you mean."

Obviously, Starsky thought, flattery did work and it worked very well. Even with Hutch and even though Hutch thought he was immune to it.

"OK – well let me think here. This stuff - deep thought stuff is not so easy for me Hutch. "

While he thought he moved his toe about absently on Hutch's shirt, pushing the fabric this way and that, while he bit down reflectively on his bottom lip. Hutch had for the moment called a truce with trying to push his foot away and seemed to be giving Starsky his undivided attention. Even the novel had been dropped casually to his knee, and Starsky noted, he seemed to sit up a little straighter, turned his head a little more toward him, tuned in just that little more to him.

Hutch waited and looked – almost expectant.

Words really sucked Hutch in.

Starsky was determined to take full advantage of Hutch's focus.

"So ways to better describe my feelings? Hmmnn - Pointless, marking time, not having a goal, not getting anywhere, fed up with myself and what I feel inside. Standing still and not going forward. A bit like I need to be given something or find something or to give something."

"Oh.."

"Oh?" That's it? That's as good as you can do to help me out here with a better word Hutch?"

"No Starsky. Not at all I was just thinking. Those are pretty heavy sort of feelings Starsky. Go on…keep going – you're painting a picture here for me."

"A picture. I like that. So – I feel like there is something missing in my life. Like I haven't done what I need to do. But then I am not entirely sure what it is that I need to do. Or is it that I want to do it? There's …a hole – a missing piece. No that's not right either. Shit!"

Hutch now had a completely different look on his face altogether.

Confusion, sympathy, concern.

Starsky was a little shocked at the look.

"Take your time Starsky. Take your time. Keep trying to define it and I'll try to help you with the word. I'm sort of getting it."

Buoyed on by Hutch's empathy, and just a little guilty that he had caused his partner to look taken aback and worried, Starsky reached inside himself again.

More than he had thought he was prepared to do. More than when he had decided to dive into this conversation.

While he considered his thoughts, looked in at himself, his toe still pressed against Hutch's warm side, moved back and forth more urgently. He it pressed deeply into Hutch's firm flesh as though it alone might excavate meaning and definition. Either that or it gave him a measure of comfort. Contact with Hutch was always comforting and he found it allowed him to think more clearly.

"Like I'm trying to get to something but it keeps moving away and I can't grab onto it and it makes me feel – sorta' empty – sorta' pointless. Sorta' sad and alone I guess. Like I'm out there in life on a limb and I need something and soon or I could damn well go crashing down."

Hutch turned fully on the couch to face him and let his book fall lightly onto to the table. Forgotten and usurped. Starsky had his total concentration now.

Starsky wondered how dreary that damn book must be if even a guessing game to define a better word than "bored" could steal away its beholder.

The foot that had been working away at Hutch's chest and pulling on his shirt was now trapped gently in his hand. He looked off into the near distance while he stilled the roving foot and began to firmly massage the calloused sole, using his other hand to absently stroke along the hairy ankle.

His soothing ministrations were almost enough to make Starsky forget all about pursuit of another word for "boredom".

But then when he felt Hutch's gaze fall back on him and he reached again for a better way to express himself. He knew that his own face was now pensive – struggling with heavy thoughts that all of a sudden seemed so important to convey to his partner.

"Starsk…"

"I'm sorry I'm shit at trying to express myself. You know that better than anyone."

"Starsky, that is not true."

"Hey I'm not so eloquent – remember? You're always saying that."

Hutch frowned.

"Hey that is just one - upmanship sparring. You know that. I don't mean that Starsky. No different than you having your usual digs at me about my clumsiness or my chaotic housekeeping skills."

"Yeah well – maybe you're right about it. I'm am hopeless at talking about stuff."

"Starsky - you express yourself better than most people – you have a way of cutting right down to the wick. Like what you've already told me here now. That's what I'm concerned about here Pal."

"You're concerned?"

"Yes – the way you're talking I'm getting the feeling that you are reaching for a word to describe a pretty heavy feeling, an important state of mind."

"So the word isn't 'bored' is it?"

Hutch ignored the half smile.

"Why didn't you tell me that you've been feeling like this? For God's sake these are damn worrying sorts of thoughts and emotions. This isn't just about being bored is it Starsky. Is this your way of telling me that – that –"

"That what? "

"That you're unhappy, you're - shit – Starsky – you're not feeling that low that you're depressed are you?"

"'Depressed' ? Nope – seen enough guys in the Department with that over the years for Christ Sake and that sure ain't where I'm at. No that sure doesn't fit how I feel either."

Hutch blew out a small breath and patted the hairy ankle.

"Good – I didn't think so – after all, I'd have picked up on that."

"Maybe there is no word to describe how I'm feeling. Maybe I just have to live with it."

"Well is finding the word or the words so important anyway?"

"No – guess not. Just that I thought you'd have it. You always have every other God damn word. And – you always go on about how important it is to talk about feelings and shit like that. "

Hutch shrugged.

"Words and talking aren't all there is to behavior and feelings Starsky. I know I say that stuff – and I like to read about that stuff- but you know, rather than worrying about describing the empty feelings you might just try to change them."

"Oh yeah? So if I can't describe them, how do I change them?"

"You said you feel like something is missing, or you need to get something, be given something. Is that right?"

"Yep."

"Well then – you could simply say – today I am going to do some different things, try some new ways, bring about some changes – and then see if any of that makes the empty feelings go away."

"Yeah? You mean like just by trying new things I could fill up that empty space in me that I can't describe - even without knowing what the empty space is?"

Hutch beamed and slapped the hairy ankle with a resounding clap.

"See! That's what I mean buddy! You are just so …so good at cutting through the crap and laying it on the line. Exactly Starsky! Who needs fancy words and heavy descriptions when you can just act differently and get rid of the blues or the emptiness that you're feeling."

"Well that makes sense because I am an action sort of guy as you know."

Starsky took back control of his own foot now, pulling it away from Hutch's enclosed hands. He commanded his toe and foot to resume its pushing and rubbing on Hutch's chest and he could see Hutch relaxing into the deep penetration of the firm toe as it worked along tight abdominals. But the shirt was a barrier and Starsky knew that his toes wanted more – a lot more. They busied themselves by tugging teasingly but purposefully at the fabric of Hutch's shirt, working their way systematically under fabric until they found bare flesh. Starsky liked the way Hutch's jolted and jerked just a little when the his big firm toe stroked slowly over the warm smooth skin of his torso and belly.

"Ah – ah …Yes, action is ….your middle name. So …so …as I was saying Starsk – you should consider waking up tomorrow with a new game plan. Don't do the same things you do every day. Try something new – say something different, experience a new sensation, a new outlet."

"New sensation eh? New outlet? You think that I should try it Hutch?"

"Y…Yesss. Starsky that …Starsky ….. Starsky….what…the hell are you doing with your toe?"

"And you think this could cure my empty feelings? My feelings that I can't put a word to?"

"Well – it – it – it certainly couldn't hurt. Changed behaviors can be better than changed thoughts. Changed behaviors can ….can ….can change thoughts. I've been read…READING! - "

He squeaked, literally squeaked when Starsky's toe dug down beneath the top of his jeans, found there way under a firm elastic band of briefs and gently brushed through some springy pubic hairs.

"And….so you think that it's best - best to wait till tomorrow morning to start these new behaviors, to try out some of these new experiences?"

"Tomorrow morning? Did I say…. that? " Hutch choked back a tortured gasp as willful foot made its way further down inside his briefs. The foot and its explorative toes were stroking and kneading with a firm purpose, coursing over the stiffening flesh with a dexterity that surprised even Starsky. Had he ever known that human toes, that his toes were capable of such flexibility? Had he ever known that they could give so much pleasure and receive such feedback? The stiffening rod of satiny flesh beneath his toe literally sent a shooting arc of neural satisfaction to his brain. Within moments he felt the mirrored swell of his own cock jumping in unison to his partner's arousal.

He twisted a little on the couch as his own jeans pulled tight across his pulsing groin.

"Well you suggested it Hutch. But being a man of action as I am – and being all ….spurred on by your psychological advice, I'm wondering if it'd be better if I got started on trying out new things a lot sooner. Like maybe even now. That way, I can get past this terrible feeling of -missing out on something that I've been missing out on. The thing or things in my life that I've been wanting – been looking for. Been waiting for - for so…OH MAN – for God Damn so long."

"You – have?" Hutch's voice was almost strangled, his breathing shallow, rapid and his body taut as he locked eyes with his partner and unconsciously began thrusting toward the incessant grope of Starsky's foot. "You've been want – ing - wanting this – ah something – something – oh - shit so good – yeah like that." His pelvis was now tilting up off the couch, blatantly bucking wantonly toward the foot's rhythmic stroking. Thrusting closer toward the foot's magic.

Starsky's own pelvis began to make small mirroring gyrations in response. Hutch's actions sent him spiraling and even his trusty foot began to lose its concentration as his brain flooded with R rated images of Hutch and his long lean blond body –divested of shirt and jeans and – and any reservations of which he might still be in possession.

But Starky was pleased to see that Hutch's reservations if any were quickly falling away as his beautiful blue eyes locked on to his – transmitting arousal and awe in equal measure.

He wanted Hutch to let go and let go fully – to join him on this quest for something beyond where their friendship had ever travelled before. But – not so far beyond that it was untenable.

They had danced around these perimeters so many times before – just in different ways.

New behaviors. New sensations. New actions.

Not words, not talk – not now. Maybe later. But now – now Starsky knew was time for action.

That is what would make the difference. That is what would push the boundaries of what they had together. Daring to tracing new demarcations.

"You like that Hutch? Like the feel of that? Like where this is going? Hope so Hutch. Hope so, because – oh Christ almighty Hutch look at that will you! Look at what you have for me right there!"

His foot had worked Hutch's fly completely open, pushing almost feverishly at the briefs, until Hutch's fully erect cock sprang free and weeping from its confines.

"I hope you like this babe because ….This – this is the first new sensation I was hoping to try."

"Oh my God - Oh fuck Starsk! Fucking want you."

I WANT TO FUCK YOU SO MUCH. "

Hutch shouted the words and Starsky growled low in his own throat in response.

Hutch pushed Starsky's foot from his groin and pivoted pulling his long body up on the couch, knees beneath him so that he was sitting on his haunches facing Starsky. His jeans were now down at his knees, his hard cock thrusting before him and his eyes shining with something that Starsky had never seen before. Starsky had also moved. He'd pulled himself into an upright position and was regarding Hutch with equal hungry anticipation.

"Hutch …. I think you - think that you just found the words I was looking for. I want to fuck you so much too – have wanted to for so long. I couldn't have said it better myself babe – and oh man, ain't this so much more than the word "bored".

Starsky sat up completely and the two of them closed the distance on the couch, half falling onto the floor, lanky legs, hairy ankles and twisting torsos tangled together as groans and expletives peppered their contortions.

Hutch made a grab for Starsky's jeans but got waylaid by the bulge his hand encountered and he seemed preoccupied with assessing its contours with a cupped hand. Starsky found the damp skin beneath the collar of Hutch's shirt and his lips seemed to want to fascinate over that one small area, sucking and nipping at the soft vulnerable flesh.

"Come here you big blond – you liked my toes and foot – wait till you see and what my hands and fingers can do to you."

"Starsk? Starsk?"

"Yeah babe?"

"I …hate to say it…but I'm sort of glad…that you've been feeling like this …that you've been feeling lost and empty …Oh shit yes, there like that… I mean …..maybe its good that you've admitted to ….Oh Christ I love what your tongue is doing…. feeling unfulfilled."

"You do?"

"Oh yes – oh yeahhhhh…..fuck, yes….because…because now – now I can make it better for you. I get to fill up the empty …..the empty spaces in you."

"Now Hutchinson – that is just plain dirty ….oh yeah ….there Hutch ….like that….the top of my cock yeah….that is just plain dirty talk. But how about you shut up with the words and show me the action."

He finally pulled his lips from the succulent neck and slid his wet mouth up to an ear where soft tendrils of already damp blond hair, brushed its surface.

An inquisitive tongue licked at the lobe while lips pressed against the shell pressing out breathy labored words.

"Fill up my empty spaces right now babe - make it all better for me Hutch – only you. I just knew you'd have the right answer for me."

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