Starsky finished flipping through facebook, and closed his laptop with a sigh.
“I don’t know why you bother,” Hutch said, putting his book down to glance at his husband. Hutch himself avoided computers, and especially Facebook, as much as possible.
“Hey, most of the time it’s fun!” Starsky objected. “I get to see what’s up with everyone.”
“Then what are you complaining about now?”
“Who said I was complainin’?”
“Well it sounded like you were complaining. What was all that sighing about, then?”
Starsky sighed again. “It’s gettin’ very disharmonious. Lotta’ fightin’ and disagreein’.”
“It’s election season, what do you expect?” Hutch said without sympathy.
“And all the news about the pandemic is bad,” Starsky went on, ignoring him. “It’s taking so long to make a vaccine, I thought they could do something as quickly as they did with the Bay City virus back in the ’70s. I’m gettin’ tired of lockdown!”
Hutch sighed at that himself. “I know, I am too. But we’re old, now, Starsk. We’re in the vulnerable age group, and besides that, you’re missing part of a lung which makes you even more vulnerable.”
“Well, it all makes for depressing reading, that’s all I’m sayin’,” Starsky growled.
“Then stop reading it and do something more enjoyable.”
“I did stop reading it, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He gave a sudden, brilliant smile. “And do you have any suggestions for something better to do?”
“I think I might,” Hutch said, smiling in his turn. “Want to come over here, and we can discuss it?”
Starsky moved across the room and into his husband’s welcoming embrace.