Starsky and I had arrested Thomas Dresden that morning, with enough incontrovertible evidence to create a cheerfulness in the D.A.’s office usually only seen at Christmas. As a result, our captain, Harold Dobey, was so pumped up, he was babbling through the phone’s receiver I held to my ear. I could barely get a word in edgewise.
“Uh… yes, Captain… yes, sir, I’ll be sure to tell Starsky… as soon as he gets out of the shower…Yeah, that wine vat was handy but he and Dresden were in it so long, it’s taking some time, and a whole bar of Lava soap, to cut through the stain…. Yes, sir, I’m afraid so, his clothes are a total loss…. No, sir, I don’t think he really cares right now…. Yes, sir…”
Having heard the water stop running, I glanced toward the bathroom and nearly swallowed my tongue. Dave Starsky, my partner, buddy, pal, best friend, and lover, stood in the doorway. To me, he looked like a master sculptor’s dream. He’d regained the weight he’d lost after Gunther and — because getting back in shape with P.T., yoga, swimming, and running had become his new religion — the pounds were in all the right places.
I suddenly had great difficulty concentrating on what Dobey was saying. “Uh… yeah… yes, sir… dissolving the coke in the wine and then distilling it out after it got to this country was clever, even if it was inefficient…. Yes, sir…”
My focus strayed back to the sight of my partner. Shimmering with water droplets, his curly hair, muscular body, and exquisite masculine parts brought an image to mind that made me nearly drop the phone.
“Uh… no, sir… I’m listening… of course, I am…”
Standing barefoot, hip-shot, a towel held over his left shoulder, with that elbow pointed forward, and a fresh bar of soap in his dangling right hand, Starsky looked almost exactly like the marble statue I’d seen in Florence, Italy, many years ago. The David.
Only, this was my David. And I suddenly wanted a hammer and chisel in my hand. Wait! What the hell was I thinking? I’m not an artist; I can’t draw a straight line without a ruler. But Starsky’s always saying things like, “You sing, you play the piano and guitar, you write songs. You’ve helped me crop my photos so that they’re much more artistic. You’ve got a great eye, Hutch! You should try painting!”
“Wha’cha lookin’ at?” Starsky grinned, knowing the answer.
The Brooklyn accent was a discordant note. Instead of allowing it to ruin the moment, though, I gathered it to my heart. “You.”
Clearly having expected a different response, he blushed all over, raising his right hand. “This is the last bar of that skin-scrapin’ soap you had.”
I finally remembered I was still on the phone with Dobey and brought my thoughts back to our conversation. “Uh, yeah, sure, Cap’n, I’ll tell him right now…. Thanks.”
I hung up, wrenched my gaze away from Starsky, and wrote “Lava” on the shopping list.
I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. While Starsky was giving his deposition on the Dresden case, I went to the library and made copies of photographs of the famous statue from every angle I could find. The body style was different but the pose did wonderful things to the memory of my dripping partner. And his prodigious manhood made the original look like a travesty of the male anatomy.
I wondered if Michelangelo’s model really was that poorly-endowed, or if it was a sly editorial comment. Maybe it was something artists and sculptors of the period did – make light of a man’s equipment. Whatever! I decided that, if I could manage to come up with something half-way recognizable, I’d draw Starsky’s magnificence in its normal at-rest glory. The way he filled his jeans, slacks, cut-offs, or any other garment he wore in order to hide those jewels from the world would be more than enough to depict in this drawing. An eight-foot column of marble being unobtainable, I had decided on trying to do a sketch. That was daunting enough!
The art supply store’s clerk made recommendations after I explained that I was a beginner and wanted to draw a friend’s likeness. I left there with a pad of charcoal paper and several pencils. He also gave me a card with an art teacher’s name and phone number but I knew I’d either produce something I was reasonably proud of by myself, or give up the idea entirely. I could never allow anyone except Starsky to see what was in my mind.
But, my God, it was much tougher than I ever thought it could be, getting lines down on paper that came anywhere close to the picture I had in my head. I began to understand why not everyone was an artist. Still, I kept at it because a few of the scraps began to approximate what I had hoped to achieve.
“Wha’cha doin’ in there, Hutch?”
I’d lost count of the number of times Starsky had asked that question during the previous week. I knew he was terribly curious but I wouldn’t tell him, and blocked his view into our spare bedroom when I opened the door. “It’s a surprise, Starsk. I know you love surprises and I want this one to be special.”
“Is it a present for me?”
“Well, maybe it’s for both of us.”
“You’re killin’ me, here.”
“No, I’m not. I am tantalizing you though, for which I apologize. But I need you to promise that you will not, under any circumstances, come in here when I’m not home.”
“Aw, Hutch –”
“I mean it, Starsk. Not under any circumstances.”
“Okay.”
“You promise? You’ve never broken a promise to me and I’m going to hold you to it.”
“Yeah, I promise.”
“Good. Thank you. Now, leave me alone. I need to get back to work if the surprise is going to be ready on time.”
“On time?”
“Figure of speech. I meant when it’s done.”
Grumbling, he slunk off and I hated having caused him any distress at all. I just hoped, when he saw the drawing – if I ever finished it — he’d forgive me. His seeing it beforehand would not only ruin the surprise, it might even embarrass him. I didn’t want that. I wanted to give him something that would make him understand how I see him: the ideal human male form.
The fact that he was also the kindest, gentlest, most loyal, dedicated, compassionate, trustworthy person I’d ever known, simply added to the person that was David Michael Starsky. The man I love.
Author’s Note: I’m pretty sure just about everyone has seen, at one time or another, a photograph of Michelangelo’s masterpiece — or possibly seen the real thing — so I’ll hope readers can superimpose Starsky’s body over that of the famous statue.
Okay, DPP & elves, pat yourselves on the back. This is just downright sweet, sexy and adorable!
I’m patting the Elves on the back myself, MatSir; they outdid themselves! As for the story, I’m so happy that you found it ‘sweet, sexy and adorable!’ Thanks for the read, and the kind words. I’m grateful.
Oh that was so good. I enjoyed it. And Lava! Only Hutch… Thanks, DPP. Wonderful.
You’re welcome, Kat, I’m really glad you enjoyed it. I have a couple of bars of Lava in my house so, not quite “Only Hutch…” Thank you for reading my little tale and then for taking the time, in this busy season, to let me know it was enjoyable. That makes me smile all over.
I’m sure Hutch will do his David justice. Wink wink 😀
We’ll all hope so, Spencer (has Hutch ever failed at anything he really wanted to do? I doubt it!) Thanks for reading and then for writing your lovely comment. Happy, HAPPY Holidays, my friend.
Dear Admin,
I overthink things and worry too much, right? This image is perfection; thank you and them so very much!
They are thanked, and relieved that you liked it.
I always wondered what Hutch’s initial inspiration was for putting pencil to sketchpad. Shoulda known. 😉 And there may be something to his thought that male nudes were purposely underendowed so that male viewers could feel secure in the size of their parts. 😉
I never thought of that reason for the lack of sufficiency of masculine equipment in those paintings and sculptures, Chocolate Egg, but you could be right. At least, in Hutch’s hands, Starsky’s parts will be magnificent! Thanks for your lovely comment.
I’ve never seen the real David statue, but I have seen the replica at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas several times. I think Starsky would definitely make a much bigger impression, if you know what I mean, lol. So like Hutch to find a way to showcase his lover’s perfect form! Great job by the elves, too, for the “re-imagined” David/Starsky.
I’ve never seen the real one either, EditCee, but in my art school days, it was in every book we picked up. I loved the pose but was sad for the model. When the idea of Hutch drawing Starsky in that iconic pose came to me, I knew he’d do Starsky’s manhood justice!
Thank you for reading and for your lovely comment.
Such a clever way to get Starsky naked in Hutch’s place and then giving us enough of a description for us to savor. Other things to savor: Hutch swallowing his tongue (wonder what else later), Starsky’s full-body blush, Hutch happily sketching away, Starsky’s impatience. Loved it! Thanks!
I’m glad you enjoyed it, Maria. I don’t really know where the idea came from but I could see a dripping, glistening Starsky standing there and Hutch nearly swallowing his tongue (and other things later), so the story just about wrote itself. Thanks for reading, and for writing your kind words. Much appreciated!
Very sweet story, Pat!
I especially loved this part:
“Standing barefoot, hip-shot, a towel held over his left shoulder, with that elbow pointed forward, and a fresh bar of soap in his dangling right hand, Starsky looked almost exactly like the marble statue I’d seen in Florence, Italy, many years ago. The David.
Only, this was my David.”
So I just had to google why Michelangelo’s David is so non-well endowed! This is an interesting article that answers the question. I should have known the answer myself (I was an art history major).
The article also talks about why the statue’s hand is so large.
http://www.howtotalkaboutarthistory.com/reader-questions/why-do-all-old-statues-have-such-small-penises/
I’m glad you enjoyed the story, DM, and I’m very grateful for the link. It’s fascinating and I probably should have known it, too, except that I studied Art History back when such things as penises weren’t even talked about – even in history class! So Michaelangelo was influenced by the Greek and Roman sculptors and was also dramatizing David’s anxiety over the upcoming confrontation. Okay, I accept the David’s lack of endowment for those reasons, but, for Starsky? Naw, Hutch’ll draw him anatomically correct.
Thanks for reading and then for taking all that time to research the subject and leave your considered comment. I really appreciate both!
Lovely!
When the heart feels love
No task is too hard to do
Drawing is a breeze
Thanks so much, Nancy, so glad you enjoyed it. Your Haiku reads well in this version, as well as the one below.
I knew what you meant
and I agree completely;
the heart does feel love!
So, I turned that around. It should have read:
Drawing is a breeze
No task is too hard to do
When the heart feels love
So, I turned that around. It should have read:
Drawing is a breeze
No task is too hard to do
When the heart feels love
I like it this way, too; both are really great and I thank you for them!
Backwards and forwards
upside down and right side up
the end is still love
This is so adorable and cute.Loved this a lot.Thank you so much for this wonderful and lovely story.
Oh, I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Beena; that makes my day! Thanks for reading and then for your kind words; both mean a lot to me!!!
Awww this was so sweet! I loved Hutch’s pov here. Thanks so much for sharing!
You’re more than welcome, Anne. Thank YOU for reading and then for leaving your lovely comment. I greatly appreciate both!
Love Hutch trying so hard to make a special piece of personal art for them. Very sweet!
Thank you, Jenn, I’m glad you found it so. I really appreciate your reading and then taking time to leave your lovely comment.
Thank you for this gift, Pat! This is great, for so many reasons: not just their happy, loving relationship, but the surprise of Hutch having no art-making experience until now, post-series, and the way he struggles at first but will get there – so true, drawing is a skill that one can learn! The Starsky-faced David by the Elves! I’ve never been a fan of Michelangelo’s David (weird body proportions – the big head and hands), but I can definitely imagine Starsky in that pose. Mmm… And the comments your excellent story have inspired: Daisy’s educational link, and your and Nancy’s haikus! I love it when someone’s creative efforts encourage even more fanworks, fun and research!
You’re very welcome, Mortmere; I’m so glad you enjoyed it for all the reasons you noted. Wasn’t the link Daisy provided fascinating? Really interesting to know and something we never discussed in Art History. Nancy introduced Haiku to the fandom a few years ago and some of us have taken the form to heart.
Thanks for reading and, even more, for letting me know you thought it was great! That means a lot to me!
I loved this! So sweet! And I bet Lava soap would definitely have been a staple in their homes. Police work can be pretty dirty! I love the ideas of Hutch seeing his Starsky as a work of art. I have to say I agree! Thank you so much for sharing this lovely story, Pat! ❤️
You are so very welcome, Donna; your lovely comment is the best post-Christmas present I’ve gotten. I’m really glad you enjoyed Hutch’s vision of Starsky and his attempt to put it all on charcoal paper. I really appreciate your reading and then taking time to leave your kind LoC. Happy New Year!
Lovely story, Pat. Such a creative story idea, and I can really see Hutch taking time time to draw a gift like that for Starsky!
When a single glance
Inspires a work of art
You know that it’s love
Aw, Laura, I hope you’re notified that I have replied to your lovely comment. I’m afraid I gave up too early and haven’t checked my stories since late January.
This is so kind of you, not only to read into the New Year, but to take the time to leave an LOC. Very much appreciated, my friend. And your haiku is perfect for the story.
Nearly missed comment
from a dear friend and poet
makes my whole new year!