“Mmmm something smells good.”
Hutch came out of the bedroom and nuzzled the back of his partner’s neck just where the dark curls disappeared under the collar of his bathrobe.
“I bought a different sandalwood cologne.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
Starsky turned and rolled his big blue eyes. “Oh really, what else do I smell of?”
Hutch kissed him in reply.
“Everything we’ve been doing for the past couple of hours.”
He sniffed Starsky’s musky salty smell on his fingers and kissed the tips in a gesture of affection.
“And Minnie says I’m the trashy boy!” Starsky grinned and went back to what he was doing in the kitchen.
Hutch decided to be the first to take a shower – although he had a feeling he might be wasting his time.

Starsky was flouring the rolling pin when Hutch reappeared. The big blond stopped and stared as his friend ran flour-covered fingers up and down the wooden utensil.
“Jeez Starsk, how do you manage to make that obscene?”
Starsky turned his head and winked over his shoulder. “Giving you ideas is it Blondie?”
“Oh shit, I knew I shouldn’t have taken a shower.”
Starsky turned back to the counter. Hutch poured them both a glass of orange juice and leaned against the wall to watch.
Starsky kneaded the dough one more time and then flattened it on the floured surface. He gave the rolling pin one more coating of flour and smiled at Hutch then he rolled out the dough and lifted it wrapped around the roller to neatly flip it over the baking case.
Hutch was impressed. “Wow; if I did that the pastry would fall in pieces.”
“The secret is in the kneading.” Starsky said in his best Mae West voice. “That… and the oil.”
“Oil?”
“Yeah.” Again Starsky’s voice was low and husky, “oiling things always make them easier to handle.”
“Hurry up and get that in the oven”
“Why, you heating up again?”
Hutch gritted his teeth to try to ignore his growing erection. How was it that Starsky could turn food into sex so easily?
Starsky pushed him to one side and took the pan from the top of the stove. Hutch sniffed again. “That’s what I could smell…”
“My mom makes the best pumpkin pie in New York and this is her recipe. She taught me how to make the pumpkin all caramely.”
Hutch sniffed the caramel-nutmeg-pumpkin smell and smiled. “Your mom knows a thing or two. What else did she teach you?”
“That’s for me to know and for you to….”
“…find out.” Hutch chorused.

Starsky poured the mixture into the pastry case and opened the oven door. As he stood up from putting the pie in the oven he licked the end of his finger…very…very…slowly before running it along Hutch’s upper lip.
“Did I ever tell you how much I love your vulnerable upper lip?”
“My what?”
“Your upper lip; it’s all curvy and vulnerable like a little kid’s; and when you get aroused it kind of swells…” He leaned forward and caught Hutch’s lower lip between his own and sucked gently. “That’s better, now they’re a pair.”

Hutch was getting desperate; once again Starsky had worked him up to full arousal with only a few words. But those words were full of double meaning; Starsky was not as dumb as some people thought!

Hutch pulled at the belt of Starsky’s robe. Starsky shook his head and Hutch got a whiff of the scent of his hair, a mix of the night’s sweat and yesterday’s shampoo.
“Please Starsky…how long do we have?”
Starsky set the kitchen timer and slipped into his pocket.
“Thirty five minutes. What do you think you can do for me in thirty five minutes that will be as good as what’s happening in there?” He pointed to the oven.
“Come into the bedroom and I’ll show you.”
“Thirty four minutes and forty-five seconds.”

The timer buzzed and Hutch grinned.
“Sounds like everything went off at the same time.”
“Yeah, didn’t it.” Starsky hopped out of the bed and ran into the kitchen.
“Hey Starsk, careful you don’t burn yourself!” Starsky grinned and wrapped his favorite frilly apron around his waist. Hutch watched as he took the pie out of the oven. As Starsky bent down then straightened up he got tantalizing glimpses of the perfect butt behind the white ties that hung down from the big bow Starsky had made. He sighed and decided to take his second shower of the day and get dressed before his partner could lead him to further trouble.

When Hutch emerged from the shower Starsky had made coffee and was putting something on a plate. “Eat your breakfast, I’ll take my shower.”
Hutch looked at the plate. Starsky had left him a perfect slice of pumpkin bread. He ate it greedily and found the loaf to cut himself more.
Starsky appeared still toweling his hair.
“Good?”
“Wonderful, where did you get it?”
“I made it yesterday while you were at the dentist.”
“What about the pie?”
“That’s for tonight – we’re invited to the Dobeys’ remember?”

Edith Dobey swallowed her last mouthful of Starsky’s pumpkin pie.
“What’s the secret David?”
“Whole-wheat pastry – it’s crispier. And my mom taught me that it’s all in the way you handle things too.”
Hutch tried not to choke.

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