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Starsky's Song

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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.

"That, and that I bought cannoli from one of the oldest bakeries in town helped."

"They were delicious."

"Coming from a guy who claims to not eat sugar." Starsky elbowed Hutch. "Cannoli aren't exactly Christmas or Hanukkah fare, ya know."

"Hey, watch it." Hutch drained his glass. "To heck with tradition. We'll make our own as we go along."

They sat together for a few more minutes, enjoying the quiet. No radio, no television. Peace.

Hutch finally said, "I'm ready to hit it. Shower?"

"Ya don't have to ask twice." Starsky finished his wine as well. He stood up, put his glass down, set Hutch's beside his, and with their hands entwined, hauled Hutch to his feet.

They moved together, leaning close, kissing gently. The kiss deepened until both men laughed into each other's mouths. Hutch pulled Starsky into a tight hug. "Love you."

"Back at ya," Starsky said with a grin. "Now come on."

They undressed quickly. Hutch's clothes went into the dirty laundry basket while Starsky tossed his to the floor. He grinned at Hutch's scowl. "My turn to do laundry so I get to pick them up twice."

Hutch sighed, shaking his head, his smile full of exasperated fondness. He ruffled Starsky's hair before turning on the taps in the large walk-in shower. When the water was at a perfect temperature, they entered together. Soap slid over warm skin, hands pressing and touching. Fingers explored; lips met. Each man grasped the other with soap-slick fingers and together they stroked. Hutch pressed his forehead into Starsky's neck, coming first, with Starsky close behind.

"Nice," Starsky murmured, kissing Hutch's shoulder blade.

Recovering quickly, Hutch held out the bottle of shampoo. Starsky did his own hair while Hutch washed his blond locks. They giggled and tickled each other, washing up, then each man dried himself with the over-sized fluffy towels Starsky had bought on sale last month. Starsky liked a thick towel, not those thin little things in the officers' locker room. Barely enough nap to dry a hand, let alone his ginormous cock, as Starsky often joked.

In bed, between clean sheets, the lovers lay quietly, whispering in the dark. Starsky had drifted off when Hutch said, "It's because Christmas Day was the day Van told me she was leaving."

Starsky started. "Huh?" He paused, letting the news sink in. "Really?"


"What a sucky thing to do. She could'a waited until the next day," Starsky said, annoyed at the woman although was dead.

"My fault," Hutch said softly. "I was a shitty provider."

Starsky remained still, waiting. Letting Hutch have the room he needed. He'd never told Starsky this before, not in their 10 years on the street, nor in the last three as lead instructors in the Bay City Police Officers' Training Facility. He heard Hutch swallow, sigh, and shift slightly. Hutch's arm circled Starsky's shoulder, and he pulled him close.

"We didn't have much money. I was at the academy and Van was chasing a career in modeling. I'd gotten a small tree. Like on Charlie Brown's Christmas." He hesitated. "My gift to her was a song I'd written, lyrics and music." Again, Hutch paused. "She hated it. Yelled at me for being a cheap bastard, and told me she'd gotten a job at a New York City agency. She was leaving in the morning. She said the only reason she hadn't left on Christmas Day was that the agency was closed."

Hutch's fingers moved restlessly on Starsky's shoulder. Starsky covered his fingers with his own hand, but kept silent. After a few quiet minutes, Hutch continued.

"She left the next day, and I didn't see her for three years. She sent the divorce papers through a local lawyer, which I signed immediately."

After a five-minute wait, Starsky decided to ask, "What song was it? Do you want to tell me?"

"Ah, yeah, s-sure. I don't want... Here's one stanza, and I'll try to sing it:

Don't give up on us, baby
Lord knows we've come this far
Can't we stay the way we are?
The angel and the dreamer
Who sometimes plays a fool
Don't give up on us, I know
We can still come through...

Hutch's voice cracked.

Starsky raised himself up on an elbow. He could just make out Hutch's face. He needed to see the reactions in those clear blue eyes. He reached across to the nightstand to turn on a small lamp. The glow bathed his partner in a warm, soft light.

"That was fucking beautiful," Starsky said, awe in his voice. "Some day, when you want to, can you sing me the whole thing. Maybe with your guitar?"

Hutch smiled, rubbing a finger across Starsky's upper lip. "If you like."

In the light, Starsky could see Hutch blushing. "Hey. I gotta question."

"Sure," Hutch turned to face Starsky, propping his head on his elbow so they were face to face.

"If you wrote me a song, what would it be?"

"Oh." Hutch chewed on his lower lip.

"Have you ever thought about it?" Starsky asked. "Or have I put your fine ass on the spot?" He grinned playfully.

Hutch chuckled. "You're such a moron." After a moment, he admitted, "Yeah, I have thought about it, but in all honesty, there's already a song that I sing in my head for you." Now he blushed even more.

"Really?" Starsky sat up. "I want to hear it. Please." When Hutch hesitated, he whined, "Pretty please, with a cherry on top? I'll give you a blow job every night for a week."

Hutch sat up to face Starsky. "It's a deal." He cleared his throat. "You ready?"

Starsky nodded enthusiastically.

Hutch sang:

You fill up my senses
Like a night in a forest
Like the mountains in springtime
Like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert
Like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses
Come fill me again

Come, let me love you
Let me give my life to you
Let me drown in your laughter
Let me die in your arms
Let me lay down beside you
Let me always be with you
Come, let me love you
Come love me again

Let me give my life to you
Come, let me love you
Come love me again

You fill up my senses
Like a night in a forest
Like the mountains in springtime
Like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert
Like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses
Come fill me again

When he finished, Starsky stared at Hutch, his eyes filled with tears. "Jesus, Hutch, that was... amazing. That's my- our song? Really?"

"Yes." Hutch met Starsky's gaze. "I do love you."

"Me, too. Love you so much." Starsky grinned. "It was great, except for the forest part. We ain't sleeping in no forest. Right? And the desert. We sure made a mess in the desert with The Baron and Terry."

Hutch laughed, pulling Starsky into his arms. "No forests, or bears. No Satanists. We'll skip the desert strongholds."

"Sounds good to me, partner."

Then they kissed. For a long time.


Don't Give Up On Us, Baby
Performed by David Soul

Annie's Song
Written and performed by John Denver