Category: Slash

Thanks, Starsk,” Hutch said in a subdued voice, sipping from his glass of red wine. “Great dinner.”

Starsky grinned. “My pleasure.”

“And thanks for… for keeping it low key.” Hutch looked at his lover over the rim of his glass, giving Starsky a warm smile.

“I know ya aren’t a big fan of Christmas. Since we had to work until 5 today, and it being just me and you, it was easy to toss the roast into a crock-pot with enough veggies to sink a battleship.” Starsky lifted his wineglass. They clinked their glasses together.

“That’s why I love you,” Hutch said. Continue reading “December 6th- Starsky’s Song by LilyK”

“…may your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmases be white…” Starsky sang along enthusiastically with the closing lyrics as Hutch stood up and turned off the TV.

“That’s my favorite Christmas movie. I miss havin’ a white Christmas,” he mused wistfully. “Don’t you, Hutch?”

“Sometimes. Although I don’t exactly miss the single-digit Minnesota winters or having to shovel three feet of snow off the driveway.” Hutch paused to pull something off the tree. “Trick or treat?” he asked suddenly, standing in front of the sofa where Starsky was sitting.

“You feelin’ okay, Blondie? I think you’ve mixed up your holidays.” Continue reading “December 19th- White Christmas by Daisy Morgan”

Their first Christmas in the new place — their place — and of course Hutch had to be the one to screw it up. He’d have thrown his hands up in regretful supplication if his arms hadn’t been pinned to the hospital bed by pain and plaster.

“I’m sorry, Starsk.”

“For what, giving me a heart attack?”

Starsky crossed the floor in two strides and leaned over him, forehead lined with worry, hands reaching out to touch and not knowing where to land. The left settled on his cheek, one thumb stroking under his eye, fingertips ghosting behind his ear. The briefest touch; mindful of the setting but still needed. By both of them, Hutch figured, from the faint tremble in the fingertips before they withdrew.

“I ruined Christmas,” he said simply. Continue reading “December 10th- Giftwrapped by hatstand”

“It’s really coming down out there,” Hutch says, watching from the hotel window. They’re in New York for a short visit with Starsky’s mother, brother and whatever other extended family happens to show up while they’re in the area. For privacy — not to mention sanity — they have opted for a hotel room that’s close enough for them to stop by easily but too far for her to want to pop by unexpectedly.

“Yeah. So much for the plans to go to Prospect Park,” Starsky grumbles, flopping down on the bed on his back. “It isn’t supposed to break much today, not according to the papers.” He tosses the offending section to the other bed. “I was looking forward to a trip down memory lane. We spent a lot of time there as kids. If Ma wanted to get rid of us on the weekend, she’d give us a few bucks for peanuts or whatever. If she really wanted us gone for a while, she’d give us enough for the zoo.” Continue reading “December 4th- Chrysalism by Suburbanboho”

Starsky tipped back his bottle of Corona, savoring the cold beer going down his throat. Beside him, Hutch watched him with a fond grin, as if simply savoring the fact that they had the evening off, had eaten some fine steaks at Huggy’s cousin’s Bull on a Grill, and now were sitting oh-so-close in the back booth at the Pits.

The place was hopping, a few couples dancing between the closely placed tables and bumping into the pool table. Luckily, no one was currently wielding a pool cue. Two women in short-short hot pants leaned against the juke box, feeding it dimes whenever they located a song they liked. Continue reading “December 2nd- Pardon My French by Dawnwind”