morganlogan: (prettyboy)
Title: Fond
Pairings: Starsky/Hutch,
Words: 372
Rating: G
Categories: ER
Summary: Starsky's had a bad day.

Fond )

morganlogan: (theguys)
missing scene from Shootout. unbeta'd little thing.

Myriad Ways

By Morgan Logan

The rain fell, and Hutch's eyes marked the motion, following the paths
of the droplets as they crawled down the windowpane set above the
desk. The pattern was unpredictable--two drops that started at the
same point wended their ways to different destinations without reason.
continue... )
morganlogan: (theguys)
[wrote this in honor of Mr. Britwizz and his enthusiasm for crinkle-cut fries, and for being such a good sport at SHareCon. Written on the plane ride on the way home. --molo]

Wanna Share?

By Morgan Logan (

God, I hate this. Hutch slouched in the passenger seat, already annoyed and unsure why, except he always felt this way when Starsky dragged him on one of his 'special trips'. This time it was to a classic car show in Pomona. Why Starsky would think Hutch would be interested in driving for an hour and a half in Sunday traffic to go look at old cars beat the life out of him.

Starsky made a joke about the car he'd recently bought for Hutch not being a candidate for the show, and Hutch grumbled an irritated comeback, regretting it a second later. He wasn't sure why he was so annoyed, except maybe it was because these long trips reminded him a little too heavily of his father's 'Sunday family outings,' and sitting squeezed in the back seat of the sedan with the ice chest and his bratty little sister, only they weren't allowed to squabble because 'Damn it, a man works hard six days a week he deserves a little peace and quiet on Sunday with a happy family.'

continue... )
morganlogan: (closet)

By Morgan Logan (

We hide who we are.

We do it with macho posturing and sexist by-play next to the coffee machine; with girls, girls, girls at discos, at work, and at bars, but never at home. At home it's just me and him, dark, sweaty and hot under me in my big bed, the brass railing knocking against the wall as I fuck him into oblivion. Or at his place, the big mirror overhead showing me his back and hips moving sinuously as he pounds into me or curls over me, sucking me deep.

The girls are strangely absent.
Read more... )
morganlogan: (must_hurt_wubbie)
Lapsus Calami

by Morgan Logan

lap·sus ca·la·mi n. slip of the pen

"Starsky's Bedtime Alphabet

Arroomellephs with squishy feet
Will swallow only tender meat.

The Bihnderbinch has jointed paws
And traps you with its sharpened claws.

Watch out for Creefeelimoes
Who slither close to chew your toes—"

"Starsky! Stop it." Hutch's face looked pained. "Just stop it. What the hell is that you're reading?"

"It's a bedtime story I'm writing for my nephew." Starsky bent his head and licked his pen.

"Doohoodlehumps are big and gray/They'll bite your nose and schlump away...."

"Jesus. You're gonna give the kid nightmares!"

"Nah." Starsky grinned. "It'll toughen him up."

Hutch groaned. "I don't want to hear the rest."

"But you haven't heard the best one." Starsky rattled his writing paper and cleared his throat.

"The Hutchywubb will eat you whole/And make you wish he'd do it more."

Hutch rolled his eyes so hard the blues almost disappeared.

"Pretty good, huh? No one will ever figure it out, that's the best part."

"The meter is weak," Hutch said, sniffing. "Also, 'whole' doesn't go with 'more'."

"Depends on whose hole," said Starsky said slyly, making Hutch blush like crazy.

Later, Starsky put his pen to even more creative use.

Fin. Finitum. Done. Dammit.

[with apologies to Edward Gorey's Gashlycrumb Tinies]
morganlogan: (peterpan)
[And this one is all moon's fault. just a quick simultanequel to
Lapsus Linguae, because dammit.]

Lingua Franca

by Morgan Logan (logan117666@...)

lingua franca n. common tongue; any language used as a means of
communication among speakers of other languages.
©2006 From the Hutchinson Encyclopaedia.

Starsky was dreaming. The arroomellephs were after him again,
squealing in their alien language, making those soggy, squelchy sounds
they always did as they crept so slowly up the stairs. They wanted to
feast on him.

He knew his gun would be useless against their black, shapeless
bodies. Fortunately, his apartment had expanded somehow, with a big
deck in back that he ran to in slow motion. Hutch's plants were
there, and they'd grown huge, blanketing him easily. He backed into
their green embrace and waited.

He felt something grab his leg, shaking it. He yelled.
Read more... )
morganlogan: (sadly_hutch)
[This is all CC’s fault.]

Lapsus Linguae

By Morgan Logan (

It was the end of their shift, and a double one at that. First they’d taken the swing shift cruising their beat, and then the stakeout they’d been pulling every night for a week. Hutch was exhausted, but the soft, puttering snores coming from the back seat made him smile as he started up the LTD.

“Arroomelleph,” Starsky said, then snorted something even less intelligible.

Seemed like Starsky could sleep anywhere, anytime. Sometimes Hutch could nap okay on stakeout, but tonight he hadn’t woken his partner for his stint on watch, hoping when he got home he’d be tired enough to be able to sleep, himself. Lately he hadn’t been, very much.

His dreams were getting too...disturbing.
Read more... )
morganlogan: (peterpan)
This is slash. Just a little snippet, for CC and Keri, for their patience.

Bananas and Jiffy Lube )

MS: Easy

Dec. 27th, 2005 05:07 pm
morganlogan: (like)
a little missing scene from Death Ride.


Title: Easy
Author: Morgan Logan
Genre: slash
Warning: no nookie!
Feedback: yay
Critique: always helpful
Disclaimer: not firing on all cylinders
Category: missing scene
Complete (~600 wds)
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