Chasing Cars

140

It’s 2012, and Starsky decides the old Torino needs a modern upgrade. But the best laid plans…

Originally published in the 2012 SHareCon zine.

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Starsky was outside, puttering around the Torino again. Standing at the kitchen window, Hutch watched him for a few minutes, a fond smile on his face. Even after all these years, Starsky still loved that car.

No matter how long it had been since it had been driven, Starsky still couldn’t part with it. The Torino was thirty-seven years old and sat under an awning in their backyard. Every couple of weeks, Starsky would go out and start it up.

“She still purrs, Hutch,” he would say with a nostalgic twinkle in his eye.

To Hutch, the sound of the Torino’s engine was more of a geriatric growl than the “purr” Starsky heard. But he didn’t argue with his partner.

Now, as Hutch watched, Starsky popped the hood, then climbed out of the driver’s seat and went around to the front end, raised the hood—with a bone-jarring screech of metal that Hutch could hear even inside the house—and bent to peer inside at the engine.

Hutch’s smile became a full-fledged grin as he was treated to a view of Starsky’s still gorgeous ass as he leaned over, the faded cut offs he wore riding up his tan thighs that Hutch swore looked just as they had back in the 70s when Starsky worked on the Torino on their days off. Back then, every petty crook, drug dealer, prostitute, and numbers runner knew that the cops known as Starsky and Hutch were on patrol in that striped tomato.

It never was a car for undercover work, Hutch mused, remembering that the old LTD he’d driven in those days had blended in better. To Hutch, a car had always just been a means of transportation; looks and style were totally secondary. But in Starsky’s mind, a car was a statement, a friend, an extension of yourself. If it got dented, you fixed it, got it repaired so that the dent never showed. If the engine wore out, you didn’t get rid of the car, you replaced the engine, the transmission, whatever the car needed.

Hutch remembered the three days he’d spent trapped under the original LTD in the canyon after he’d been forced off the road. He had thought he’d die there and spending that long as a prisoner of the car he drove nearly every day had been enough to make him despise the vehicle.

Starsky had never realized that. It had never occurred to him that after the LTD had nearly become Hutch’s tomb, the last thing he’d wanted was to obtain a duplicate model. No, Starsky had assumed that Hutch felt the same way about the old squash as Starsky did the Torino. When he couldn’t salvage what was left of the LTD after its trip down the canyon, he’d gone out and found Hutch a clone of the battered car, right down to the way the horn honked when the door was opened. Hutch had always suspected Merle had engineered that detail, but he couldn’t prove it.

He would never forget the proud look on Starsky’s face when he pushed Hutch’s wheelchair into the parking lot to bestow the “new” LTD on him. Hutch had just been released from the hospital, his leg had still been in a cast and he’d had to struggle to get up to use his crutch to slam the driver’s door so the horn would stop blaring. Yet in the face of Starsky’s enthusiasm, he hadn’t been able to let him know he would have been perfectly happy to never drive an LTD, of any description, again.

God, he loved me, even then, Hutch sighed. And he had known that Starsky’s gesture had another motivation besides replacing the LTD. He’d wanted to prove to Hutch that the experience in the canyon hadn’t been able to hurt him beyond the physical damage. He’d wanted to celebrate his rescue of Hutch by showing him that even being trapped in that gorge couldn’t destroy him.

And it had worked, Hutch remembered. Though part of him would have preferred forgetting all about the car he’d been trapped under, having it replaced by Starsky had gone a long way to making him feel as though the whole terrible episode had been nothing more than a bad dream.

Returning his focus to the present, Hutch saw that Starsky seemed to be trying to crawl inside the Torino. He was bent so far over in his perusal of the engine that the cut offs had ridden up his thighs, giving Hutch a tantalizing view of the bottom curve of Starsky’s ass cheeks.

It should shock me, how he still has the ability to so easily turn me on, Hutch mused, shaking his head. But it doesn’t. To me, he still looks the same as he did all those years ago, all hot, hard body and perfect tempting ass in constant motion.

Gulping as he realized the show Starsky was unwittingly putting on was getting him hard, Hutch abruptly turned from the window and headed for the door.

He tried to be quiet as he walked toward his partner and it seemed Starsky was so engrossed in the Torino’s engine that he didn’t notice Hutch’s approach. Hutch slid up behind him, both hands closing on the full curves that had called to him.

“You’re giving the neighbors quite a show there, babe,” he whispered, squeezing lightly on the globes he held.

Starsky turned his head, the twinkle in his eyes as youthful as ever. “You know they can’t see back here, Hutch. We picked this place for the trees that make the yard secluded, remember?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Hutch recalled the numerous times they’d made love outside without any of their neighbors being the wiser. It had been a while since they’d done anything like that though. Their activities these days were usually confined to the bedroom.

“Well, technology marches on,” Hutch told him. “Somebody could be watching us and recording on their cell phone. We’ll end up on Facebook before the night is over.”

Starsky straightened up, turning in Hutch’s grasp, his hands going to Hutch’s waist. “They should be so lucky,” he grinned, leaning in to plant a long, deep kiss on Hutch’s mouth. As they kissed, Starsky ran a hand down between their bodies, encountering Hutch’s erection.

“Whatcha got there for me, schweetheart?” he asked, his tone more sultry than teasing. He wrapped his fingers around Hutch’s denim clad hardness, giving him a delicious squeeze.

“Starsky!” Hutch tried to sound outraged, but he knew his voice was more excited than anything.

His partner kissed him again, bringing his body into alignment with Hutch’s rubbing their groins together. “Gimme a sec and I’ll catch right up to ya,” he promised.

“Did you come out here in those ridiculous cut offs and bend over the engine just to get me turned on?” Hutch asked between the kisses that were leaving him a bit breathless.

Starsky pulled back and met his eyes, a “who, me?” look on his face. “I was just checking the engine out,” he answered innocently.

“Wearing these?” Hutch slipped his fingers under the waistband of the faded shorts, not surprised to find Starsky wasn’t wearing underwear.

“It’s hot out,” Starsky replied, as if that really explained his attire. When Hutch’s hand slid lower, massaging his warm flesh, Starsky leaned into him again. “Keep that up and I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

“You wanta take this inside?” Hutch asked, his voice husky. Though they still had a fairly active sex life, it wasn’t often they spontaneously got like this in the middle of the day. He slid a finger low, between Starsky’s cheeks and smiled at the gasp his partner gave in response.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Starsky enthused. His lips closed on Hutch’s Adam’s apple, sucking at the tender skin. Hutch wrapped his other arm more tightly around him and they stood together, just enjoying the closeness for long, pleasant moments.

Finally, Starsky pulled back a fraction. “So, inside, babe?”

Hutch’s eyes were unfocused and all he wanted was to be in their big bed, naked, with his arms full of his partner. “Oh, yeah.”

“Then why’re we standin’ here wastin’ time?” Starsky turned away for a moment, retrieving a measuring tape and a small notebook where they’d been resting on the Torino’s engine, then wrapped an arm around Hutch’s waist and began pulling him toward the house.

***

Hutch disengaged from his lover, rolling off his back to collapse beside him. He moaned, his body limp with satisfaction and strain.

Next to him, Starsky rolled over and kissed Hutch’s shoulder. “Damn, babe,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse, “you’ve still got it.”

Hutch reached up, dragging his hand through Starsky’s short curls. “It’ll… take me… a month… to recover,” he panted, knowing that he was grinning like a fool.

Starsky jabbed his knuckles into Hutch’s ribs. “What? No round two?”

“Hey,” Hutch protested, shoving at Starsky with mock annoyance. “Sorry, Starsk. If you want another round, you’re on your own.”

Starsky laughed, a low chuckle. “Yeah, I think I’ve had enough.” He paused, then added, “Maybe after dinner.”

Hutch rolled his eyes. “Always the comedian. Put me on your calendar for next week.”

“What?” Starsky sounded affronted, then seemed to let go of the game. He settled at Hutch’s side, his head comfortable on Hutch’s chest, and sighed. “You know, I think maybe you’re right. Been awhile since we’ve done something that athletic.”

Hutch wrapped his arms around him, pulling Starsky even closer, enjoying the damp warmth of the man he’d spent the past thirty plus years loving. “Wish I could still be that athletic every night,” he smiled, “but I think we do pretty good for a couple of old guys.”

“Mmmhmm.” Starsky nuzzled Hutch’s chest.

Running a hand through his hair, Hutch remembered how they’d gotten started. “By the way, Starsk,” he asked, “what were you doing out there today? Why were you measuring the engine?”

Starsky didn’t answer. Instead, Hutch detected a light snore. He decided he could use a nap himself. He’d ask Starsky about the Torino later.

***

Starsky flipped the steaks as Hutch poured the wine. It was seven o’clock. They’d napped for two hours and woken ravenous. Getting up first, Hutch had put some potatoes in the oven and thrown together a salad. While he waited for Starsky to finish showering, he had found the notebook his partner had brought in from the car.

It contained figures, measurements, small sketches of the interior of the space under the Torino’s hood. Several pages of the notebook had other notes, and then there was a list:

Batteries—$1,000 to $2,000

Motor—$1,000 to $2,000

Controller—$1,000 to $2,000

Adapter plate—$500 – $1000

Other (motors, wiring, switches, etc.)—$500 – $1000

For the life of him, Hutch couldn’t figure out what Starsky was doing.

Starsky brought the steaks to the table and Hutch sat across from him. For a few moments, they dug into their meal in silence. Hutch watched Starsky eat, then took a sip of his wine. “Starsk,” he asked finally, “I was looking at that notebook you had outside. What’s up?”

“Oh, yeah.” Finished chewing and swallowed. “I was just doing some thinking.”

“About what?”

Starsky picked up his wine glass. “How I could… you know, drive the Torino again.”

“You drive it every couple of months,” Hutch pointed out.

“Around the block,” Starsky said. “Even when we’ve taken it to those car shows, we take it by flat bed. I miss drivin’ it, Hutch.”

Hutch sighed, knowing how much his partner loved the car. “I know you do. But it’s nearly forty years old. What if something happened to it? What if you got it in an accident? And the price of gas for it—”

“That’s just it, Hutch,” Starsky broke in. “I wouldn’t be puttin’ gas in it!”

“What?”

“I’ve been doin’ some research on the computer. I’m gonna convert the Torino to an electric car!”

Hutch sat back in his chair, speechless. The idea was absurd. Starsky had always gotten weird notions in his head and latched onto them, thinking he could make them work—breeding chinchillas, buying that fixer-upper… and now what? Making the Torino run on electricity?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Starsky said. “But it’s not that far-fetched. People are doing it all over. You get an older car, take out the engine and put in batteries. No more gas guzzler!”

“But, Starsky—”

“No, listen. I read this article where they said using an old muscle car really works better, ’cause they’re so big and heavy. There’s more room for the batteries and all the other stuff.”

“Those notes of yours,” Hutch said, “Looks like this idea could cost upwards of eight grand.”

“Yeah, doin’ it right isn’t cheap,” Starsky nodded in agreement.

Hutch sighed. “I’m not telling you how to spend your money, but—”

“Hutch, I wasn’t gonna do it without telling you,” Starsky said earnestly. “It’s our money. You have a say.”

“That’s not what I mean, Starsky. What if you spend all that and it doesn’t work? And what about the cost of labor?”

“I’m gonna do a lot of the little stuff myself,” Starsky answered. “I’ve always tinkered around with the car. And I’ve been e-mailing with a guy down in Encino who’s done this a coupla times already. He knows what he’s doin’, Hutch.”

Starsky wasn’t exactly pleading, but his eyes were so full of hope and need. Hutch wasn’t convinced, but he could see Starsky had already set his mind on the idea. And there had never been much he could refuse his lover.

“When do you want to take the Torino down to Encino?” he sighed.

“Really, Hutch? I was thinkin’ this weekend. I’ll show you some of the web sites I’ve been lookin’ at, too. Once you see what a great way to give an old car new life this is, you’ll understand. And I know you care about the environment.”

Starsky’s grin was infectious. Shaking his head at his partner’s irrepressible zest for life, Hutch picked up his knife and fork. He finished his meal while Starsky continued enthusing over how the Torino could be converted to an electric car.

***

The next day, the two drove over to Encino to meet Jed Murray, the guy who had done so many car conversions. He and Starsky talked for an hour while Hutch mostly listened. While they talked basics that afternoon, it was decided that Jed would come over to their place that weekend once he had a chance to do some more research on the parts Starsky thought he wanted to use.

“How long do you think the whole conversion will take, Jed?” Starsky asked finally.

“I’m thinking a month or two at most, assuming the undercarriage is in good shape. No rust, no welds. Has it been in any accidents? Was it driven gently or…?”

Hutch nearly choked on the coffee he’d been sipping.

“Well, Jed,” Starsky answered, “I told you we were cops. I used the Torino on the job, so, I wouldn’t exactly say it was driven gently. But I took good care of it. Always kept the motor in tune, fixed it right up after any bumps it took. I used to go to Merle’s in L.A. Ever heard of him?”

At Jed’s blank look, Hutch spoke up. “Starsk, you know Merle’s been out of business for years. And before he retired, he moved his shop out to Ventura, remember?”

“Oh, right. Well, he was great with body work,” Starsky said. “I’ve missed having him around to take the old car to these last couple of years.”

Jed nodded pleasantly while Hutch shook his head. It had been much more than a couple of years since Merle had been in business, though he thought his grandson might have taken over at one point.

Eventually, they were on their way back home. “So you’re really going to go through with this?” Hutch asked as he watched Starsky drive.

“Yeah, I’m more convinced than ever, Hutch. I think it’s a great idea on every score. We can still use the Torino, we won’t be expanding our carbon footprint and it’ll just be fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yeah, you know I’ve been kinda bored the last few months.”

Hutch put his hand on Starsky’s shoulder. “I know.” Since they’d retired, both of them had been trying to find things to do. The last class Starsky had taught at the Academy had been a year ago.

Jed came over to look at the Torino on Saturday. He brought his own measuring tools and an iPad he used to show Starsky pictures of the components he was thinking would be best for the conversion.

“So, first,” he said, standing under the awning with the hood of the Torino up, “first we’ll pull the engine, the gas tank, the exhaust system, the clutch and… yeah, I think the radiator too. I can get a water-cooled controller so we won’t need the exhaust.”

“You’re takin’ all that?” Starsky nearly squeaked.

Jed looked surprised. “Of course.”

Hutch grinned at Starsky’s pale face. “He’s thinking about you pulling out parts of his baby, Jed. To him, this is like removing an organ.”

“Think of it as a heart transplant,” Jed told Starsky. “After we take those out, we’ll attach an adapter plate to the transmission and mount the motor with custom mounting brackets. You’ve got manual transmission, which is great. We’ll pin it in second gear.”

“Pin it?” asked Starsky.

“Yeah, for maximum efficiency, the electric motor needs a reduction gear. The best way to do that is to pin the transmission in second. We could create a custom reduction gear to save weight, but… ”

“But what?” Hutch cut in.

“That’s pretty expensive to do. So most people usually just pin the transmission.”

“Okay, that sounds fine.”  Starsky said. “I’m not really worried about the cost but if we don’t have to go overboard, that’s all right too.”

“What comes next?” Hutch asked.

“We mount the controller, then decide where all the batteries will go and build and mount brackets for them and install them. Sealed batteries are the best way to go since they can be turned on their sides and fit into all the nooks and crannies.”

“At least we’ve got a lot of room in the Torino,” Starsky pointed out.

“Then, the batteries and motor get wired to the controller. We’ll need an electric motor for the power steering too and one if you want to use the air conditioner. Do you want a heater?”

“This is Southern California, Jed,” Starsky said, “I think we can live without a heater.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Jed smiled in response. “Did you tell me you also had power brakes?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then we have to install a vacuum pump to operate the brake booster.”

“I’ve been readin’ articles for weeks and I still never realized it was so complicated,” Starsky said.

“The details do sound kind of daunting,” Hutch added.

“I’m not changin’ my mind,” Starsky assured. “Are you sure you can do this in a month?”

Jed rubbed a hand through his spiked hair. “Well, don’t hold me to that. It all depends on what parts we might have and how much time some of the things we have to build take. You said you wanted to do some of it yourself.”

“Yeah, and I have lots of time.”

“Starsky, how many things have you welded?” Hutch asked. Starsky shrugged.

“There are plenty of things you can do,” Jed said. “For one thing, you’ll be ordering some of the parts and you might want to even drive to pick some of them up. And you need to be there for all the major decisions. Plus, you can use a screwdriver, can’t you?”

“Right. Right, Hutch!” Starsky declared cheerfully.

“Next, we’ll install the charging system, a DC to DC converter to power the accessory battery and a volt meter to detect the state of charge in the battery pack.”

“I guess that’s a good idea,” Hutch said, “if you want to know how much farther you can go.”

Jed nodded. “We put that meter where the old gas gauge used to be.”

“Really?” Starsky asked. “That is really cool. What comes after that?”

“Potentiometers get hooked to the accelerator pedal and connected to the controller. You are going to need some kind of reverse switch and wire it to the controller, of if you go with the DC motor, you can just run the motor in reverse and use a simple switch to send a signal to the controller to back up. After that, you’ll install a large relay, or contactor, that connect and disconnect the car’s battery pack to and from the controller.”

“What’s that for?” Hutch asked.

“That’s how you turn the car on when you want to drive it,” Jed grinned. “You need a relay that can carry hundreds of amps and that can break 96 to 300 volts DC without holding an arc.”

“What, or you blow up?” Hutch said.

“It’s not gonna blow up, Hutch. Is it finished then, Jed?”

“Almost. The last step is to rewire the ignition so it can turn on all the new equipment. Then, you’re on the road.”

“Do you really think we can do it for under five grand?” Starsky asked.

“At least you already have the car you’re converting. Some people have to go buy one to use.”

“Well, there is that,” Hutch observed dryly.

“What I really want to know,” Starsky asked again, “is how far and how fast. So many of the web sites aren’t clear on this. Or it depends on what stuff you put in the car.”

“It does,” Jed answered. “You’ll be able to get at least fifty miles per charge.”

“That sounds decent. What about speed?”

“Well, acceleration can be slower than with a gas car,” Jed told him. “It could be like driving a mini-van—”

“Uh… ” Starsky said worriedly.

“Or we can do our best to make it really quick for you. A drag car I read about recently managed zero to sixty in a little over eight seconds and did a hundred fifty in a quarter mile.”

“Jed,” Hutch put in, “I think that’s more what Starsky is looking for.”

“Well, I don’t suppose I’ll have to use it to chase anybody these days, but I don’t want to poke along like a mini-van either,” Starsky said.

“So, when do you want to start?” Jed asked, looking at his newest client expectantly.

“Any time you’re ready!” Starsky shook his hand with all the enthusiasm Hutch knew he was capable of.

***

The conversion actually took nearly six months. Time was spent looking for just the right batteries and other equipment, and several times, Jed and Starsky re-designed the whole interior plan so that the most power could be obtained for the Torino. Hutch felt like his partner was spending more time in Encino than he did at home, but he didn’t really mind. Starsky was so excited about the project, it was like he was a new man. He was happy, animated and when bedtime came, ready to have fun with his lover. Hutch couldn’t complain about that.

Finally, seven thousand dollars and five and a half months later, Jed declared the Torino ready. Hutch drove Starsky to Encino to pick it up. When they got there, he proudly showed Hutch all the new parts that had been installed since the last time Hutch had been to Jed’s and explained how they had managed to get just the right gauges and dials that matched the old ones so the dash looked just as good as it used to. Starsky had even installed a new GPS and satellite radio to bring the car up to the twenty-first century. He’d polished the leather seats and waxed the exterior so the old Torino looked as shiny and new as possible. He couldn’t seem more proud than if he was a father on graduation day.

Hutch agreed that the car looked great. He smiled as Jed walked over and handed Starsky the keys.

Grinning like a kid, Starsky opened the door, climbed in and sat in the driver’s seat. He inserted the key into the new slot and turned it. The Torino quietly hummed to life.

For a moment, Starsky’s look of happiness wavered. “Is it on?”

“Of course it’s on,” Jed told him. “Can’t you hear the hum?”

“It’s pretty quiet.” Starsky shook his head. “Yeah, I guess I’m used to the old engine growling when I start her up.”

“Well that’s a thing of the past,” Jed said. “No more noise is an added benefit of conversion. No air pollution and no more noise pollution either.”

“Really.” Looking a bit less gung-ho, Starsky nevertheless put the car in drive and carefully took his foot off the brake. “You want to go around the block with me, Hutch?”

“Sure, babe.” Hutch climbed in on the passenger side, not really sure why Starsky seemed less pleased. “Drive on.”

They pulled out of the parking lot and Starsky carefully steered them around the block. The car seemed to perform as expected. The ride was smooth, quiet and turned and accelerated easily. They pulled back into Jed’s ten minutes later.

“Jed, I wanta thank you for everything,” Starsky said, getting out to shake hands with the younger man. “I know I’m gonna love being able to use my car again.”

“It was fun for me, Dave,” Jed responded. “It’s a beautiful old piece of equipment and I’m glad to have helped you make it new again.”

Hutch shook Jed’s hand as well. He was grateful to the guy for all his help and for understanding all the many concerns Starsky had had during the process. In a short time, they were on their way back home, Starsky driving the Torino and Hutch taking his own Toyota.

Hutch arrived home first and put the champagne he’d bought in the fridge and turned the oven on to keep the dinner he’d picked up at the Italian place they both loved down the street warm for Starsky. He knew his partner was probably going to put the car through its paces and see what it would do on the way home, so he set the oven on low, not wanting the lasagna to dry out.

It was only about twenty minutes before Starsky arrived home. Hutch had expected him to be gone much longer. He went out to find him parking under the old awning where they’d always kept the Torino out of the sun.

“So, how’d it do?” he asked, putting an arm around his partner as he locked the driver’s side.

“Okay.”

“Just okay? What, no speed?”

“Yeah, it was actually pretty quick.” Starsky sighed as he said it. “Maneuvered just right. It actually felt almost like it used to.”

“So what then?” Hutch asked. “I know something’s wrong. Ever since you first turned the key…”

Starsky shrugged. “It’s dumb.”

“Aww,” Hutch scoffed, “when have I ever thought anything you told me was dumb?”

“All the time.” Starsky managed a grin, then went on. “But you never mind, do you, babe?”

Hutch kissed him. “What is it?”

“No noise.” Starsky looked back at the car, his expression as glum as a kid who’d torn the colorful wrapping off a present only to find clothes instead of the toy he’d asked for.

“No noise?”

“It’s so quiet, Hutch,” Starsky explained. “Nothing when you turn the key and when you step on the gas, nothing then either.”

“Starsky, what did you think it was going to sound like? You took out the entire engine. That’s where the sound came from.”

Sighing once again, Starsky nodded. “I know. That’s why it’s dumb. I guess I just never thought about it that way. It’s great and all, but half of what I loved about drivin’ the Torino was the sound. Don’t you remember how in the old days we’d scream down the street, growlin’ at the perps before we even got to them?”

“Some of that was the tires,” Hutch offered, but it didn’t seem to help.

“I know.” Starsky was still gazing somewhat mournfully at the Torino.

“Come on inside,” Hutch urged. “I got lasagna from Vinnie’s. I thought we’d celebrate.”

They entered the dining room and Hutch had Starsky sit down at the already set table. He lit the candles he’d arranged earlier and switched on some music, some disco he thought Starsky would enjoy after driving his car from the same era. He carried in the lasagna and handed Starsky a serving spoon. “Go ahead. I’ll just get the champagne.”

“You got champagne?” Starsky asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah. To toast the Torino.”

Starsky closed his eyes momentarily. When he reopened them, he met Hutch’s.  “I really appreciate the dinner and everything, Hutch. This all looks great. But… I think I’m really just in the mood for a beer, if that’s all right with you.” He scooped a slice of lasagna onto his plate. “I know it’s silly, but I’m just not in the mood to go all the way with champagne tonight.”

“It’s okay, Starsky. I’ll get us some beers.” Hutch returned to the kitchen. He really felt badly about Starsky’s disappointment in the car. His gaze went to the window and he recalled how, months ago, he’d found Starsky out there looking over the engine in those cut offs, thinking about making the Torino electric. Hutch’s impulse would have just been to buy an electric car, but he knew how Starsky felt about the Torino. It was like a part of him. And the whole idea had been to find a way to put it on the road again. It had never dawned on Hutch that the sound of the car had been so essential to Starsky or that he wouldn’t realize that would be one of the things to go when they made it over. He wished he could think of a way to make it better for him, but at the moment, Starsky was in the dining room alone, waiting for his beer and Hutch knew standing around thinking wasn’t doing any of them any good.

Later that night, Hutch made careful love to his partner, trying to ease his disappointment with tenderness. He sucked him with all the skill and knowledge he’d gained in thirty years of making love to the man, drawing out Starsky’s orgasm until he was trembling and smiling at Hutch from under heavy eyelids. Then Hutch moved to cover him with his own body, rubbing his hard cock against Starsky’s spent one, letting the sweat and semen ease the sliding until he couldn’t take any more stimulation and he came too, growling low in his throat with the pleasure. Starsky’s arms wrapped around him as Hutch gasped for breath.

“Now that’s a sound I know I’ll always get to listen to,” Starsky said with a low chuckle. “I ever tell you how great you sound comin’, Hutch?”

Wiping a hand over his sweaty brow, Hutch shook his head. “I don’t think you have.”

“See? Always somethin’ new between us, babe.” Starsky kissed him, then urged Hutch to roll to his side. “When we first started… you know, being lovers? I used to think about how you sounded when it was really good for you. I wanted to make a recording of it, but I never could figure out how to sneak a tape recorder into the bedroom.” He laughed at the memory.

“You’re really weird, Starsky, you know that?” Hutch said fondly.

“That’s what you love about me.” Starsky pulled up the sheets to cover them both.

***

A week went by and Hutch wasn’t really surprised when Starsky didn’t drive the Torino. He didn’t actually have that many places to go, but Hutch had thought his partner would hardly be home the first few days he had the car back. It bothered him that Starsky wasn’t enjoying it. And he’d gotten an idea of how he could help.

“Where are you going?” Starsky asked, looking up from the sports page as Hutch came in wearing his jacket.

“I’ve got some errands I need to run,” Hutch said, knowing he was being evasive.

“Want some company?”

“No, that’s all right. I’ll pick up dinner. What are you hungry for?”

Starsky thought a moment. “How about Chinese?”

“Okay. Oh, you know, I wanted to ask you, Starsk,” Hutch began.

“What?”

“Would you mind if I took the Torino? I’ve kinda been wondering what it’s like to drive it now.” Hutch could just imagine how that request would have been answered in the old days; with an emphatic ‘no.’

Starsky hesitated. The subject had been like the elephant in the room for the past few days. Finally, he shrugged. “Sure. Go ahead. The keys are on the hook in the kitchen.”

It certainly showed how really unhappy with the conversion he was if he was going to let Hutch drive his prized Torino, but Hutch said nothing as he went to get the keys. He’d contemplated just taking it, knowing that it was so quiet Starsky wouldn’t have heard him start it up, but he didn’t want him to wander out to look at it or even glance through the window and notice it was gone.

Three hours later, he was back, a bag of hot Moo Goo Gai Pan in the backseat of the Torino and a huge grin of anticipation on his face.

Instead of getting out, he honked the horn a few times. When Starsky didn’t appear, he pulled out his cell phone.

“Yeah?” was his partner’s sleepy answer.

“I thought you might doze off,” Hutch responded, chuckling.

“Wha time zit?” Starsky slurred. “Hey, you been gone forever!” he went on, obviously checking his watch as he woke up.

“It’s six-thirty,” Hutch said. “I honked but you didn’t hear me.”

“Why’d ya honk?”

He could picture Starsky running a hand through his tousled curls and frowning as he tried to figure out what was going on. “Because I want you to come outside.”

“What for? The Chinese too heavy?”

“Something like that. Will you just come out here, Starsk?”

“All right. Keep your pants on.” Starsky cut the connection and Hutch could picture him grumpily refastening the snap on his pants, knowing that Starsky often undid them to be more comfortable when he napped these days.

Hutch climbed out of the Torino and stood next to it, waiting.

“What’re ya draggin’ me all the way out here for?” Starsky complained. “You get ina wreck or somethin’? I been feeling guilty, Hutch, not drivin’ her. Then when you took her today, I started thinking about something happenin’—you better not have damaged my car. ”

“That’s the spirit, babe,” Hutch smiled, pulling his disheveled lover into a brief kiss. “I was beginning to think you didn’t care about it at all anymore.”

“Nah, I was just tryin’ to get used to knowin’ I cut her heart out.”

“How can you get used to it when you haven’t been driving it?” Hutch asked. He shook his head, realizing it was Starsky-logic he was up against. “Never mind. I think I’ve solved the problem.”

“What? Solved what problem?”

“Are you getting old, Starsky? The problem with the sound. You’ve been acting like a big baby since you got the conversion finished, whining about how it’ll never be the same and you haven’t even so much as taken it to the store.”

“Well, you couldn’t exactly put back the old engine now, could you?”

“I think I did the next best thing.”

“What?” Starsky sounded suspicious. “Where’d you go today?”

“I took the car over to Ventura. To Merle’s—well, to his grandson’s actually. Merle the Third.”

“What’d he say about how I killed the Torino?”

“He didn’t think you killed it,” Hutch said, getting exasperated. “He thought it was a great idea, wished you’d brought him the business instead of Jed. I told him you’d be over to apologize next week.”

“Oh great, as if I don’t feel bad enough.”

“Look, will you just get in the car?” Hutch shoved the keys at Starsky.

“All right. Whatever you say.” Taking them, Starsky climbed inside, then looked up at Hutch expectantly. “Well?”

“Turn it on, babe.” Exasperation forgotten, Hutch couldn’t wait to see Starsky’s face when he did as he asked. He almost pulled out his phone to take a picture, but he knew Starsky hated that kind of thing.

Looking baffled, Starsky slid the key into the switch Jed had installed and turned it.

The Torino growled to life.

“What?!” Starsky’s hand jerked back from the key as if burned. He looked at Hutch, then back at the key. Gingerly touching it, he switched the car off, then on again.

Again, the familiar growl of the Torino blasted through the air.

“Hutch, what—? I don’t believe it? How?” He was grinning that beautiful grin from ear to ear and the sight of it filled Hutch’s heart up.

“You remember that video we got from the last car show?” he asked. Starsky nodded. “I thought the audio was pretty good on it, so I made a copy of the sound of the Torino from it, took it over to Merle the Third’s and he worked his magic. When your turn the car on, a switch makes the sound of the engine come on. He put it through a loud speaker he installed, which was pretty hard since you and Jed didn’t leave much room for anything else after you put so many batteries in this thing. When you gun the engine, so to speak, it really roars. You have to hit a toggle when you’re driving to do that—I tried to get him to see if he could somehow make it work just by stepping on the accelerator but—”

Starsky was out of the car and in Hutch’s arms before he could finish, kissing him as hard as he could.

“Hutch, you’re too much! I can’t believe you did this! We already spent a small fortune on it and this musta cost plenty more. What made you think of it?”

Hutch stammered at the praise. “I don’t know. I just wanted you to be happy with the car, after all that work. The only thing missing was the sound—how hard could it be to put that in? And then that night, you talked about wanting to record me…” he trailed off, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks, even after all their years together. Still, it was mainly the look on Starsky’s face of open love and gratitude that made him embarrassed.

Starsky kissed him again. “Is there still enough charge left for me to try her out?” he asked eagerly.

“Yeah, there should be.”

“I wanta take a drive!” Starsky reached for the car door.

“Hey, I’m starving,” Hutch pretended to complain. “I picked up the Chinese.”

“Just a short drive, babe,” Starsky promised. “We’ll heat up the food and have that champagne you bought. It’s still in the fridge, isn’t it?” He was already in the driver’s seat, looking like a happy teenager with his first prized car.

Hutch went around and climbed into the passenger seat. “Yeah, it’s still in the fridge. We’ll open it when we get back. And Starsky?” he asked, looking at his partner expectantly.

“Yeah, Hutch?”

“Does this mean I can get fucked tonight?” Hutch said, his voice turning sultry and hopeful.

“Are you sayin’ the sound of my car is related to my sexual prowess?” Starsky asked as he turned the key, once more bringing forth the sound of a powerful 1970s engine, even if only as a recording.

No one could hear Hutch’s answer as the Torino peeled out of the driveway and onto the street.

*end*