any(+any); I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes

Filled at my journal page. http://spencer5460.livejournal.com/27683.html

Starsky; first day in the Army

Hutch; last day at college

The September heat should make it impossible to feel cold in his bed, but there’s a definite chill, and when he reaches his left hand over to the other side, he discovers the reason.

Starsky sits up and swings his legs over the side. It seems too early to be awake for a Saturday, but his body needs to be stretched. Hutch has probably already been up for an hour, having slipped off for his morning run quietly. Hutch had launched himself back into his health nut regimen over a year ago, working on himself as if he was the one in recovery. Starsky rubs a hand over the scars on his chest, and supposes that Hutch had been in need of recovery just as much as he himself had been, probably more so. The haunted look that Hutch had carried around for months had made Starsky mildly appreciate that he hadn’t been in Hutch’s place during the entire mess.

Starsky’s thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening. When he makes his way out of the bedroom, he’s taken over by irrational grumpiness. Well, petty jealousy. Hutch looks like a Nordic god, even sweating, even if he’s moving more carefully these days due to his own old injuries, whereas Starsky feels like Frankenstein’s monster.

It’s really a sense of panic, regret over wasted time, and astonishment that it’s taken this many reminders of their own mortality for them to get to this point in their relationship, a mourning over lost youth. Really, he should just feel grateful that they’ve been so lucky, that they’ve come through everything stronger, that the haunted look in Hutch’s eyes has been replaced with a kind of happiness that Starsky had forgotten the look of. Really, he knows better, but a scowl crosses his face all the same.

Hutch takes one look at him and sees right through it. He grins. “Wrong side of the bed, Starsk?”

“Sore,” Starsky clips, “and who gets up this early on a day off?” he grouses.

“Missed me, huh?” Hutch smirks, and suddenly he has the strangest expression, one that is equal parts indulgent, concerned, and predatory. “We’d better get you into the shower, work that soreness right out.”

Starsky suddenly feels weak in the knees. “What makes you think I want your sweaty hands all over me?” He complains as convincingly as possible as Hutch ushers him toward the bathroom.

Hutch’s countenance changes just slightly. “It’s not about what you want, Starsky. It’s about what you need.”

The game is in full swing. “And just what do you think I need?”

Hutch has turned the water on, adjusted it for exactly the right temperature. He shrugs out of his t-shirt and slides his shorts off. He places both hands on Starsky’s hips and hitches his thumbs beneath the waist-band of Starsky’s shorts. “I gotta be honest, Starsk. I don’t care all that much about what you need; this is really about what I want.”

Starsky wants to protest that he hasn’t brushed his teeth, but Hutch has his mouth in a kiss and it just doesn’t seem all that important anymore. Then they’re in the shower and suddenly Hutch’s actions belie his earlier words as he massages Starsky’s back and shoulders. Starsky returns the favor the best he can, sluicing soap and water over the smooth planes and lines of Hutch’s body, but it’s cramped in the shower, for one, and two, Hutch gives him a wicked grin and pulls Starsky flush against him, places his hands on Starsky’s ass and makes the filthiest, sexiest noises Starsky has ever heard as he rubs their cocks together.

They come moments apart, Starsky gasping and slumping against Hutch. The melancholy doesn’t leave him, not entirely. It never does these days. But Hutch has managed to chase the worst of the demons away, yet again.

They towel off lazily and Starsky is set to head back to bed and doze off, but Hutch has other ideas. “Let’s go to the beach,” he says, “or the park. I’ll pack us a picnic.”

Starsky groans. “And join the rest of the sunburned masses? No thanks.”

“You’re not going to burn, you’re just going to get that nice golden tan and be the best-looking guy out there.” Hutch is already pulling fresh clothes on and running a comb through his hair.

“How are you impressed with me when you see yourself in the mirror every day?”

Hutch pauses and takes a long look at Starsky. This game they play is a necessity, letting them say what they can’t seem to state directly, and his teasing is deliberate and careful. “Well, I’m not here because I love you. I’m not here because you inspire me, the way you don’t let the world change you, the way you keep fighting. So it must be because I can’t get enough of this.” Hutch has circled behind Starsky at this point, and he wraps his arms around Starsky’s waist. Slowly he lets his hands trail over stomach and chest, resting his palms over the scars, feeling the beat of Starsky’s heart. “I mean, if I could, I would leave you tied to the bed and just have my way with you at my leisure, but you require some maintenance. You know, food and sunlight. So I guess I’m just going to have to spoil you by packing all your favorites.”

This finally coaxes a grin from Starsky, and Hutch, knowing that he’s won, matches it with one of his own.
Starsky leans into Hutch. “Wanna drive my car?”
Hutch’s grin grows wider. There’s only two reasons Starsky would ever eagerly offer to let Hutch drive the Torino: to take care of Hutch or to let Hutch take care of him. “I don’t know, I really like watching you drive.” He places a kiss right behind Starsky’s ear, and relishes the shiver he feels in his partner.
“Yeah right. You just know I’m the far superior driver. Let me go get some clothes on.”

Hutch watches Starsky walk away, that old swagger nearly returned. Somehow the small triumphs are the best ones.

thank you for the comment, and the delicious prompt. :D I am glad you liked it :) And that you used the word cavorting; it's been too long since I've seen it in print.

Ah, you push all my "awww" buttons :) So very sweet and sexy. Thanks for sharing!

\o/

Aaaah...! I love that whole paragraph with "the game they play is a necessity". You're very good at keeping them *them* and avoiding the whole "chicks with dicks" thing. I'm so glad you're writing in this fandom.

Thank you! *blushing* I'm also ridic happy to have stumbled into this fandom :D

Oh yes, this is lovely. I like how you broke the story into two stages: reluctance and then, enthusiasm. "That old swagger nearly returned." :-D

Thank you! I just had to give them an upbeat ending ;)

Lovely!

thank you :D

So full of the love and strong spirit that these two share! I also loved the way you expressed, "This game they play is a necessity". It is in the "small triumphs" and these simple expressions that we find the most joy.

Thank you so much; that is exactly what I was most hoping to convey :)

I'm just catching up with all I missed in December. This is beautifully sweet and romantic. Hutch is thoughtful and tender, understanding Starsky's self doubt and what it takes to cure it. I loved this! And of course the happy ending...

"Hutch watches Starsky walk away, that old swagger nearly returned."

I have always thought the return of the swagger would be surely noticed and appreciated by Hutch more than anyone!

Thank you taass :D And yes, the return of the swagger would bring about rejoicing ;)

Starsky +/ Hutch; We're here!

“Starsky, just what are you trying to prove with this car?”

Starsky switched off the engine and turned to gaze quizzically at Hutch. “I’m not trying to prove anything. This high-performance machine will have ample opportunity to prove itself.”

“This is a muscle car, Starsky.” Hutch wished, for the third time today, for a cigarette.

“Oh, and I suppose that a muscle car is too much car for a girl to drive.” Starsky’s curls seemed to twitch indignantly.

Hutch tried to resist answering with a knowing smirk, and promptly failed. “So you are trying to prove something.”

“Listen to this.” Starsky opened the driver’s side door, then looked expectantly at her partner.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly.” Starsky grinned. “Unlike that bucket of bolts you insist on driving, the bad guys will not be able to hear us coming.”

Hutch sneered. “They’ll be able to see us from a mile away. This ridiculous car looks like a striped tomato.” She exited the passenger side and scowled, wondering why slamming the door didn’t give her any sense of satisfaction.

Hutch stalked out of the police garage and into the station, trying to ignore the sense of relief she felt when Starsky caught up to her longer strides.

“What’s eating you?”

Hutch had reached the coffee pot and was reflecting on the fact that the assured lousiness of what she was
pouring into a cup could most certainly be a metaphor for the varied disappointments of life. She spoke softly. “We already have to work twice as hard to be taken half as seriously.” Hutch paused, then stole a glance at her partner. She expected to see either irritation or amusement, but found contemplation instead.

“So you probably won’t believe me when I tell you that I just really love the car. You probably want me to tell you that the car symbolizes non-conformity, or something like that.” Starsky grabbed another cup and held it out expectantly.

Hutch opened her mouth to reply, and found no reply forthcoming. She swallowed a sigh and filled Starsky’s cup.

Starsky took a sip, made a face, and met Hutch’s eyes with her own. Beneath their familiar humor there was something else, just as familiar, but more seldom present. Something that usually went unnoticed by people other than Hutch, and often to their detriment. Hutch could only describe it as formidable. “If you don’t want to accept the simple explanation, then I’ll give you this. The Torino says “We’re here! We’re not going away, and we are not to be messed with.”

Starsky turned and sauntered to her desk. Hutch couldn’t help but think that Starsky was rather optimistic. But then again, one of them had to be.

Woohoo, awesome genderflip fic! What a great way to use the prompt. Thanks for sharing!

"The Torino says 'We’re here! We’re not going away, and we are not to be messed with.'”

That's the truth in any universe! Great idea for the prompt!

Love this! What a fresh perspective. That last paragraph really made me smile!

All most excellent, including how you introduced the gender flip.

Except, now I want to watch the television show, many seasons of it.

Edited at 2015-10-12 12:35 am (UTC)

Thanks for posting this. I really enjoyed the clever use of gender.

Woohoo! That was awesome! :D Very clever with the gender flip - And yup! They are here and nobody 'body' may mess with them.

Whoa! That gender switch was a surprise. Very clever. And yeah, I can see a female S&H feeling the need to arrive with a loud statement - Hutch is right; they *do* have to work twice as hard to be taken half as seriously.
I'm really liking your work.
Mary