What if… What if the guys took up knitwear modeling in the early 1980s?
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Hutch probably has many nicknames for that sweater Starsky is wearing here: the knitted tomato, the mohair massacre…
Kids all over Bay City were opening the first door of their Advent calendars despite the temperatures being unseasonably warm. Ken Hutchinson sat on a boardwalk bench, huddled into his jacket, dark glasses keeping away the brightness of sunlight. He felt a chill right down to his bones as he looked out over the ocean at Venice Beach.
In his mind’s eye he saw his partner, Joon, smiling as he formed snow balls to chuck at his lover. Joon loved the snow and was born with skates on his feet. They had toyed with the idea of Joon trying out for the Olympic figure skating team, but he was happy with his work as a police officer. Skating as a job was a dream come true for him. And Ken Hutchinson was okay with anything that made Joon happy. Because Joon Kim made Ken happy. They were partners on and off the job and life was rich and full. Continue reading
“What are you reading?” Starsky asked, seeing his partner pick up the small paperback book. “Whatever it is, it must be good. That’s the third or fourth time this morning you’ve picked it up.”
Hutch closed the book and at the next stoplight, he showed the book’s cover to Starsky.
“Haikus?” Starsky shook his head with a soft chuckle.
“Do you know what they are?” Hutch asked, his voice taking on that pretentious tone Starsky hated.
“Of course I do!” Starsky hastily replied. “Japanese Poetry.”
Hutch groaned and went back to reading.
“What… I’m right aren’t I?” Starsky asked with a snide tone of his own.
“Yes, you’re right… to a point,” Hutch informed him, still using that tone. “It’s the most stringent and precise poetry ever written. No room to get off point. The number of syllables is locked in each line.”
“Right, I know. I remember the rules from my English class in high school.” Starsky smiled at the look of disbelief on his partner’s face. “I even wrote one once.”
“Do you remember it?” Hutch asked with genuine interest now.
“Give me a minute,” Starsky said, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“Well?” Hutch pressed for an example.
“Okay… here you go…” Starsky cleared his throat, then began.
“Tiny moth
“Seeking warmth in candle flame,
“You damned idiot!!”
Starsky sat back, obviously pleased with himself, and enjoying the look on his partner’s face.
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Starsky & Hutch |
Haiku by Lucy Gen Safe For Work |
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A Hallmark Christmas |
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Chapter Three
As they headed out for Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, the site of Hutch’s next concert, Starsky didn’t apologize for his blow-up of the night before and Hutch didn’t mention it. Instead, Starsky kept his focus on the road ahead while Hutch hunkered in the back seat of the Galaxie with his nose buried in a book.
Let him stew, thought Starsky. I’m not going to spend this whole trip coddling a temperamental artist. I got my own problems to deal with.
The scenery flew by mile after mile, with each man alone with his thoughts. Starsky cataloged the various state license plates in his head and took in how the busy cities morphed into peaceful rolling hills. The change in landscape mirrored the settling of his troubled thoughts, the way he was usually able to scramble his way back up after getting dragged down. It was one of his better qualities.
Twenty miles outside of Harrisburg, Starsky decided his biggest problem at the moment was his growling stomach. “I’m pulling off to get some lunch. I assume that’s okay with you.”
Starsky pulled off the exit without waiting for Hutch’s acquiescence and followed signs to a diner a few miles down the road. Several trucks in the parking lot told him the place met the approval of people who made their living on the road fueled by a hearty, hot meal. A good sign. Continue reading
STAVISH
My king, my companion and best friend is dying. I have some experience with battlefield medicine but a spear entering next to the spine and exiting the chest is a wound I have never seen anyone survive.
Radek and Axel gather on either side of us as I lay the king gently on his side on the ground. Blood bubbles from the full lips and I am more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life.
We had fought side-by-side through the afternoon and, as light faded, our force finally broke through the enemy’s line. The cowards threw down their weapons and fled but a villain rose from the mound of bodies behind us, savagely kicked Radek and Axel aside, and thrust his spear in Haajensen’s back. I slew the man with a single cut of my sword and caught my friend as he fell. Continue reading
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Looking at You |
Christmas in Bed by Onnakarot Starsky/Hutch Slash/Ship Safe For Work |
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Adventures of |
Swing Shift Part 2 |
Author’s Note: This story is a continuation of The Christmas Closet from the 2018 Advent Calendar. It can also be read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154836
Hutch stepped out of the shower and quickly dried himself before heading to the mirror. He used a corner of the towel draped around his neck to make a neat circle in the steam, and leaned in closely to examine his features one by one. Then, with intense concentration, he focused on the obvious feature, and the decision that hadn’t been made while he had cleaned earlier. The decision that hadn’t been made while he put fresh sheets and matching pillowcases on his bed. The decision that hadn’t been made in the shower. Now it was staring him in the face and he was almost out of time.
“Okay, do you stay or do you go?” Hutch asked the inanimate object sitting innocently enough under his nose. He ran a finger over the damp bristles. “You’ve been with me a long time now, and I like you. I like you a lot.” Hutch wiggled his nose, making the mustache move up and down. “Yeah, I like you a lot…but I love him, and he’s gonna kiss me tonight.” As he’d been doing for the last five days, Hutch took a moment to be swept away by the anticipation of that kiss. He knew, and didn’t care, that he wasn’t thinking like the highly-experienced man he was. One who had given and received more kisses in his lifetime than he could count. The fact that he had butterflies in his stomach only heightened the sense of awe.
He picked up the razor. Continue reading
