S/H Snippet: Fond (G)
Title: Fond
Pairings: Starsky/Hutch,
Words: 372
Rating: G
Categories: ER
Summary: Starsky's had a bad day.
Fond
by Molo
Starsky babied the Torino over to Venice Place, then grumbled his way up the stairs and grouched on into Hutch’s apartment until he bitched to a stop at the foot of Hutch’s bed where he found Hutch lazing and reading the Sunday paper.
“Do you have any idea how much a new master cylinder costs? Do ya?”
Hutch tilted down the corner of his paper and raised an eyebrow at him. "Nope."
“And it’s all your lousy fault because of that heap of junk that always breaks down, so I think you owe me,” Starsky groused, kneeling onto the bed and crawling on top of Hutch’s long, bony body, ignoring the yelps of complaint, because what was the point of having a partner with added pluses if he couldn’t roll on top of the guy and mash up his Sunday paper and tussle him into the messed up sheets while he yelled, “Hey! Jeez, what’s with you, you cretin?
Finally, when Starsky had one slightly less bony shoulder under his cheek and Hutch’s big hand rubbing up and down his back, Starsky sighed and said, “Where the heck does Merle think I’m going to get fifty-two bucks, anyway?”
“Maybe from your big, dumb sucker of a partner?”
“Yeah. You are a pretty soft touch, that’s the truth.” Starsky rolled his head back and caught Hutch looking down at him with a weird look, the corners of his mouth just barely turned up, like he was trying hard not to smile. “What’s with the look?”
“What look?”
“That look. Like you’re not sure what to do with me.”
“Well, sometimes I really don’t, Starsk. But I figure I’ll work it out eventually.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, let me know when you do.” Starsky prodded at Hutch’s chest to see if it would soften up a little, but it was nothing doing. “You know, you make a pretty lousy pillow, Hutch.”
Hutch laughed a little, softly. “Never had any complaints before.”
“Well, I’m awfully particular.”
“Yeah. I noticed that about you. Once or twice.”
Starsky was pretty sure he should come up with a response for that one, but the fondness in Hutch’s voice made it hard to care.
Anyway, Starsky thought, it was a sure thing he had a master cylinder coming soon.
Fin.
Pairings: Starsky/Hutch,
Words: 372
Rating: G
Categories: ER
Summary: Starsky's had a bad day.
Fond
by Molo
Starsky babied the Torino over to Venice Place, then grumbled his way up the stairs and grouched on into Hutch’s apartment until he bitched to a stop at the foot of Hutch’s bed where he found Hutch lazing and reading the Sunday paper.
“Do you have any idea how much a new master cylinder costs? Do ya?”
Hutch tilted down the corner of his paper and raised an eyebrow at him. "Nope."
“And it’s all your lousy fault because of that heap of junk that always breaks down, so I think you owe me,” Starsky groused, kneeling onto the bed and crawling on top of Hutch’s long, bony body, ignoring the yelps of complaint, because what was the point of having a partner with added pluses if he couldn’t roll on top of the guy and mash up his Sunday paper and tussle him into the messed up sheets while he yelled, “Hey! Jeez, what’s with you, you cretin?
Finally, when Starsky had one slightly less bony shoulder under his cheek and Hutch’s big hand rubbing up and down his back, Starsky sighed and said, “Where the heck does Merle think I’m going to get fifty-two bucks, anyway?”
“Maybe from your big, dumb sucker of a partner?”
“Yeah. You are a pretty soft touch, that’s the truth.” Starsky rolled his head back and caught Hutch looking down at him with a weird look, the corners of his mouth just barely turned up, like he was trying hard not to smile. “What’s with the look?”
“What look?”
“That look. Like you’re not sure what to do with me.”
“Well, sometimes I really don’t, Starsk. But I figure I’ll work it out eventually.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, let me know when you do.” Starsky prodded at Hutch’s chest to see if it would soften up a little, but it was nothing doing. “You know, you make a pretty lousy pillow, Hutch.”
Hutch laughed a little, softly. “Never had any complaints before.”
“Well, I’m awfully particular.”
“Yeah. I noticed that about you. Once or twice.”
Starsky was pretty sure he should come up with a response for that one, but the fondness in Hutch’s voice made it hard to care.
Anyway, Starsky thought, it was a sure thing he had a master cylinder coming soon.
Fin.