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"Starsky, I swear…" "You promised." Hutch considered the man before him. Listing on his pillows and doped to the eyeballs on cold meds, Starsky should have been out for the count hours ago. But stubbornness, Christmas and Starsky were clearly not going to be separated this year by something as trivial as flu. "You know you’re Jewish, right?" "Hutch, it’s Christmas, it’s midnight, and you promised." Hutch bent his head to hide his smile. Starsky always sounded appalled when Hutch said things like that. When Hutch straightened he had a gift-wrapped box in his hands. And yes, there it was, the reason he trotted out this bah humbug routine year after year. It was that killer smile, the one that lit Starsky from within. "For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have." "Yeah, like you’d be liveable with if I didn’t. Just don’t eat them all at once and no chocolate crumbs on the bed." Starsky’s hand stilled on the wrapping. "Thanks.Way to kill the thrill, Hutch." Hutch waved his hand dismissively. There was a camera lens in amongst the Hershey bars. Just because it was Christmas did not mean Starsky was the only one who got to have a little fun. |
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Hutch patted the pockets of his leather jacket and looked around. "Keys, keys," he muttered. "Kitchen table," said a voice from the sofa. "Oh, right." Hutch grabbed them and took two more strides toward the front door. He turned before he got there. "Kiko’ll be here in about half an hour. The two of you going to be okay?" "Gee, I don’t know, Hutch. What if he wants to go to college or something?" Hutch stopped mid collar-flip of his jacket and took a deep breath. A chest infection was not the only complication Starsky had brought home from the hospital. An unhealthy dose of sarcasm had also hitched a ride. Didn’t matter. Hutch was still too antsy about leaving Starsky alone. Gunther was inside, his goons right along with him. But this was still the man who had turned down a shot at the presidency, so all bets were off when it came to believing that his reach was dead and gone. They’d fought about it, of course, with Starsky calling Hutch a piss poor excuse of a mom and not speaking to him. Hutch got around that the way he always did – a long, slow blowjob on the sofa. Starsky could barely remember his name after those, let alone why he was pissed at his partner. Hutch looked at his watch and wondered if he had time to fix this… A comic sailed past his head. "Stop thinking with your downstairs brain, Hutchinson. Get out of here, will you?" The tone and the look were fond, as they hadn’t been in days. So Hutch smiled, waited till he got one back, and then left. Starsky didn’t know it yet, but the biggest tree on the lot was about to show up with Kiko, pine needles and sentimentality be damned. |