Starsky sneaked up to Hutch and bent over him.
“I wonder…” Starsky said, letting his tongue run over the wiry hair of Hutch’s mustache.
“What?” Hutch caught Starsky’s tongue with his own and moaned in sheer bliss.
“We never kissed when you were clean-shaven.” Starsky disappeared in the bathroom.
“Oh, no. You wouldn't!” Hutch tried to get up when he saw the supplies Starsky put on the coffee
But Starsky’s puppy-look did the trick, and five minutes later, Starsky lay on top of Hutch, not leaving
one inch of Hutch’s body untouched – especially not that beautiful clean-shaven upper lip.
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