A bright red Gran Torino and a brown clunker car sit side-by-side outside of a charming oceanside home. The sound of the lazy waves complement the dusky Summer evening, the musk of salt and humidity threads itself in with the scent of char-burgers and french fries. The soft and alluring sound of an acoustic melody catches the wind, carrying itself over the white picket fence and out to sea.
Inside, Starsky stands rocking back and forth, rolling his weight from the back of his heels up to his tip toes. Cozy blue sneakers bend to his will, cushioning his antsy impatience.
"Stars, would you cut it out? You're wound way too tightly, it puts a strain on the heart you know." An over-relaxed Hutch coos at his partner, lazily plucking away at his guitar.
"Well that's easy for you to say Mr. Health Nut with your magic seaweed smoothies, but I'm the one with my life on the line." Starsky snaps back, flailing his arms in nonsensical directions as he speaks, his anxious rocking evolving into little in-place bunny hops.
A smile spreads over Hutch's face as he eyes his partner, silently adoring the cute little things that he does without even realizing it. Putting his acoustic guitar down gently, Hutch beckons the brunette, spreading his arms wide and welcoming, "Come here, you have nothing to worry about, I'll be here for you no matter what, I promise."
Starsky lets out in a exasperated breath, "Jeez Hutch, I thought you'd never ask." Moving to his partner in three quick lunges and falling into warm welcoming arms, Starsky buries his head roughly into Hutch's shoulder.
Hutch pets his partners' thick curly hair, "Just take a deep breath. Hutch has ya, everything will work out just fine. You'll see." Starsky clenches his eyes shut, breathing in deep through his nose and then slowly out his mouth, the comforting and familiar scent of his partner filling his lungs and settling his nerves like a smooth drug.
Mumbling hotly into Hutch's neck, "I swear on my badge, no, I swear on my car, after all of this is over I'm gonna do better. I don't care what doc says, I'll..." Starsky cringes slightly, "Eat healthy. No more pizza for breakfast." Starsky starts to work himself back up into an excited state, pulling away from Hutch to stare at him with wide misty eyes, "Yeah, I'm gonna eat better and even join that stinkin' gym of yours!"
"Shh..." Hutch gently holds Starsky's face in his hands, pressing his slender thumbs over those rambling lips. He places a quick kiss on his partner's forehead, easing away the worry lines. "I know what will fix you right up, my secret remedy."
"Aw, come on Hutch, no more of that voodoo hoodoo mumbo jumbo. Last time you made me one of those drinks I couldn't taste anything for a week, you..." Hutch cuts him off mid-sentence, vigorously digging his fingertips into Starsky's rib cage.
Instantly Starsky bursts out in giggles and wiggles, desperately trying to escape his partner's grip, "Hutch! You've got to cut it out!" Starsky feels like his smile will tear his face right in half, "Come on, you know what happens when..." He stutters as he gasps for breath in between his laughter, "I get tickled!!" Starsky attempts to roll into a fetal position, laughing, trying to repel his insistent partner, "Please, I'm beggin' ya!" He paws at the deathgrip Hutch has on his rib cage, "It's embarrassing!"
Hutch smiles ear to ear, relentlessly attacking his squirmy partner with speedy fingers of doom. "I know exactly what happens, Stars. Why do you think I'm doin' it, ya dummy?"
Hutch stops his assault long enough to throw one long leg on either side of Starsky, straddling and trapping him, warmly and gently pressing his body into Starsky's erection.
Starsky stares up at Hutch, breathing heavily, laughter tears wetting his face, "See what you did? Now what am I supposed to do?" Leaning in close to Starsky, Hutch rubs their noses together affectionately, "I'm sure we'll come up with something."
Just as their lips touch, a shrill ringing pierces the night air. A frenzied tangle of limbs race across the carpet towards the phone, hands clutching and grabbing at legs and feet, each of them trying to prevent the other from getting there first. A table falls victim to the sparring duo, sending wine glasses and dirty plates crashing to the floor.
Swiping the phone off of the receiver, Hutch answers sweaty and breathless, "Hello...yes, yes it is." Starsky frantically tries to press his ear to the other side of the phone, each time being batted away by Hutch. "Okay...great. Yes, of course...I will, thank you Doctor." Hutch hangs up with a slow *click* as he turns to his partner. Having worked himself up into an 'arms crossed in front of him' pout, Starsky grumps, "Well? Are you gonna tell me or let me die guessin'?"
Hutch places his hands on Starsky's shoulders, doing his best to maintain a grim face, "Starsky, I hate to tell you this." A big grin gives him away, "But it's just a little stomach ulcer."
Starsky's eyes light up, "You wouldn't lie to me, would ya Hutch?? Oh come here you beautiful bastard!" Starsky wraps his arms around him, spinning them round-n-round until they're both collapsed back onto the plush carpet in a clumsy heap. "So what else did the doc say? What do I have to do?" Hutch smiles wide at his partner, "Just lay off of the spicy food and alcohol, and we can pick up your prescription first thing in the morning."
"Oh this is great, just fantastic!" Starsky smiles ear-to-ear, "Listen, as soon as I'm all better there's this really killer italian food joint I want us to try..."
There was that adorable quality again, making Hutch smile. "Oh, and one more thing, you'll need lots of this." Hutch kisses him on the lips, "And also," Hutch wiggles his fingers just under his partner's rib cage, sending him back into squirming and giggling fits. "Lots of laughter."