Christmas Story Stub: A Tiny Treasure
A little Christmas Starsky & Hutch story stub...inspired by the season and by Moni's "Love is Real."
May your holiday and celebrations bring you much joy.
May the new year ahead hold many blessings.
Happy holidays to one and all!
-Angel
A Tiny Treasure
The lights on the small Christmas tree blinked yellow, red, green, and blue. Votive candles on the piano top lent a ruby swirl to the soft glow and shadows. Two half full glasses of spiked eggnog and two half eaten pieces of fruitcake were abandoned in a noose of straggling gift ribbon.
Two men, both lean and strong, sprawled over every square inch of the low-backed sofa. Both beautiful as angels, but angels in contrast - one tall with wispy fair hair and sky blue eyes, the other with dark curls, a strong compact build, and eyes the color of midnight.
Hutch, the blond, sat upright, long legs propped on a low coffee table. His hands cupped the face of the other, Starsky, who lay flat along cushions, head in his partner’s lap. Their eyes, framed all around with long, thick lashes, were locked in silent communication, the kind only possible through years of companionship, understanding, and love.
The clock chimed ten o’clock.
“Two more hours of Christmas.” Hutch’s quiet voice sounded like music in the warm room. One large hand moved to stroke Starsky’s neck.
“A good Christmas, partner.” Starsky reached up and rubbed the bridge of Hutch’s nose.
“I think Molly liked her new bicycle.” Hutch sounded pleased and relieved.
“Did you like your gift, Hutch?” Starsky’s voice, usually bouncing with uncontainable energy, was hesitant.
Hutch glanced across the room at his beloved Ovation guitar, propped against the wall and dressed up in the finery of a brand new guitar strap - a dozen shades of blue threaded with gold.
“Most beautiful guitar strap I ever got, Starsk. It’s perfect. I may write a song about it. And if you don’t behave, I may paddle your ass with it.” Hutch chuckled as he slipped a hand inside of Starsky’s shirt, fingers sliding over the taut muscle and soft chest fur.
“A song about the giver wouldn’t hurt.” Starsky’s’ voice was now filled with laughter.
“Shameless. Starsk, you’re shameless, always asking for what you want.”
Starsky tipped his head back, better to see Hutch’s expression.
“Maybe shameless, but - ”
“But what, Starsk?”
“Okay. I ask for what I want. But with you, I ain’t always sure I get an answer.”
“Ahhhh.” Hutch’s hand explored lower. He playfully pressed a fingertip into Starsky’s belly button and grinned at the resulting yelp.
“Did you like your gift, Starsk?” Hutch attempted his Grinch face.
“Y’know I did. I always wanted a telescope.”
“It’s for gazing at the stars, buddy. Don’t want you turning into a peeping tom.”
“Yeah.” Stasky relaxed against Hutch’s thighs.
“Yeah.” Hutch dropped a small box, tied with a red ribbon, into Starsky’s lap. He winked when Starsky’s deep blue eyes widened with surprise.
“Looks like there was one more box I forgot to give you, Starsk.”
Starsky turned the box over and over in his hands. He started to sit up, but Hutch held him firmly in place.
“Open it, Starsk.”
The clumsily tied ribbon slid off easily. Starsky pulled the top off and reached inside.
He chuckled.
“Awww. Awww, Hutch. You gave me your business card.”
To cover his confusion, Starsky read aloud.
“Detective Sergeant Kenneth Hutchinson, Bay City Police Department.”
Hutch snuffled. “Read the back, dummy.”
Starsky turned the card over. He saw more words written there, in black ink, in Hutch’s careful hand. He read them quietly.
Always.
I promise.
Never.
Believe me.
He looked back up at Hutch, confusion still playing over his angular features.
Hutch whispered.
“Starsky. Almost every time we make love - ” he paused to run fingers over Starsky’s curls, “you ask me the same four questions.”
Starsky blushed.
Hutch smiled.
“You ask. I answer. And you ask again.” His eyes were serious, the pupils huge in the dim light. “These are my answers. I wanted to put them in your hand, as solid and real as the way you put yourself in my heart.”
Starsky’s face broke into his dazzling, patented “for Hutch only” smile.
He looked at the card, his mind switching back and forth from “those same four questions” to Hutch’s handwritten answers.
How long do you think we’ll be in love? “Always.”
Do you promise to always be here? “I promise.”
What’s the expiration date on your promises? “Never.”
When you say you love me, can I believe you? “Believe me.”
Starsky slid the card into his pocket.
“No one ever said love could feel this good, Hutch.”
“Well, you’ve never been in love with someone like me before.”
Hutch’s mouth transformed from teasing to passionate in a single second.
He gently guided Starsky up.
Hands moved in unison, easing unbuttoned shirts off, revealing two sets of strong shoulders and two bare chests.
Face-to-face and breath-to-breath, they memorized each other in a private pledge.
In a sacred hush of peace and love, they leaned together.
Two pairs of blue eyes closed in anticipation of mouths touching.
And all thoughts and promises melted into a kiss as eternal as stars and music and Christmas.
~Finis~