Not Your Instagram Boyfriend

107

Starsky and Hutch are detectives in modern day Bay City. Starsky’s  Instagram account has Hutch feeling a bit left out.

 

I challenged myself to write a fic with the guys that show their ages in the present day. In other words, a modern day Starsky and Hutch.

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“Here. Hold this.” Starsky handed the tray holding his seafood special taco trio in one hand while he held a large cup of horchata and a boat with an ear of street corn in his other.

Hutch nearly dropped his own shrimp taco and only some fancy juggling saved everything.

“Damn it, Starsk.”

But the phone was already out before Starsky even had his ass on the picnic bench and he was moving the tray, the boat, the cup, and Hutch’s hand, adjusting the angle until it satisfied him.

“Just a minute, Hutch,” Starsky murmured and then the familiar flash of the phone’s camera followed.

“Am I allowed to eat now, your majesty?” Hutch snapped. “You know, before my food gets cold?”

Starsky waved a hand as he pulled the tray closer. “I needed to get this one. Rosalita’s Taco Truck could use some more business.” He took a bite of his fish taco as he typed with one thumb.

Hutch shook his head and watched as Starsky forgot to chew, intent as he was on getting the latest pic posted to his Instagram account. He continued eating, pausing now and then to type some more.

“There.” Starsky put the phone on the table and grinned at Hutch. “BayCityBoyzStreetEatz has done his duty.”

“Your ‘duty’ is not posting every goddamn thing you eat and giving a review of it. We’re detectives in case you’ve forgotten.” Hutch gave his taco a savage bite and almost bit his tongue.

“Can I help it if my followers demand my expertise on where to find the best food in Bay City?” Starsky held out his hand and made a gimme gesture for the horchata which Hutch grudgingly acknowledged was pretty damn good.

Hutch sighed and handed it over. “All five of them?”

Starsky laughed so hard horchata came out his nose. “Five? Try twenty thousand.”

“You do not have have twenty thousand followers.” Hutch grabbed Starsky’s phone as he stuffed the last of his taco in his mouth. He quickly typed in the passcode to gain access. “Holy…”

“Told ya so.” Starsky smirked. “Now let’s go do some detecting of our fair city.” He swallowed the last bite in his mouth and got up, wiping his hands on a napkin Hutch handed him.

“Besides the department approved the account. Providing we don’t accept any free food,” Starsky continued as they got in the car.

Hutch rolled his eyes. “Okay. You win. I wish we’d never gotten the damn phones in the first place.”

“Damn phones? Hutch, you don’t even have a damn phone. You’re still using that BlackBerry from what? The late 90s?”

“It’s not that old,” Hutch grumbled. “And it works doesn’t it?”

“Yeah if ya still wanna live like you’re in the last century,” Starsky said as he pulled out into traffic. “You want I should get you a horse and buggy for your birthday?”

“Shut up,” Hutch said. “I just can’t see spending all this money on new tech every few years when something still works. Do you know how much all this consumerism is contributing to…”

His tirade was interrupted by Starsky’s phone ringing. Starsky hit the button on the steering wheel and a familiar voice came out the speakers.

“Hey my dudes. The Bear may have some new intel for you on those latest jewelry robberies.”

“Got it, Hug. Give us a few. We’re on our way.”

Starsky turned right at the next light.

“Think of what my post did for Huggy and The Pits,” Starsky said.

“Think of how we can no longer even get in for a quick bite. Now everyone needs reservations,” Hutch shot back.

“Think of how we can sneak in the back door and he always has a place for us.” Starsky reached over and put his hand on Hutch’s thigh and squeezed gently. “C’mon, babe. It isn’t that bad.”

Hutch crossed his arms over his chest, not willing to concede.

There was a line of people waiting to get into Huggy’s for whatever special there was for the day, and Starsky turned down the alley to park by the dumpster in the back.

They walked into the kitchen where controlled chaos reigned. Hutch grabbed Starsky’s collar when it looked like he might beg for a few tastes of whatever Paolo was cooking up.

“I’m coming. I’m coming.”

Huggy was at the bar and motioned for them to go back to his office.

“Be there in five,” he called to them.

They went into Huggy’s office—a place of surprising quiet after the noise of the dining room. Just a year ago, Huggy had been worried he’d have to sell, but the combination of his new chef Paolo, his own considerable charm, and Starsky’s Instagram photos and stories about the wonderful food had made The Pits into one of the trendiest places in Bay City.

Hutch sat quietly watching Starsky scroll through his phone.

“Got two hundred likes already,” he said as he tapped out some replies to comments. “Maybe it’ll help Rosalita’s get some more business.”

If it wasn’t that Starsky believed he was truly doing a public service, Hutch would have felt angrier. But as usual he felt guilty for staying mad at Starsky for long. Except…well…sometimes he felt more as if he was an accessory to Starsky than his actual lover. Just once, he’d like to go out for a meal or even stop for a coffee and not have to watch as Starsky took a photo and thought up some clever caption to go along with it.

He sighed.

Starsky looked up. “You okay?”

Hutch opened his mouth but Huggy came in at that moment.

“Don’t have much time to talk,” Huggy said, his words coming out in a rush. “But word is that Louis the Lemon has his fingers in the jewelry pie.”

“Louis the Lemon,” Starsky said.

Hutch leaned forward, snapped his fingers. “You remember him, Starsk. The guy was busted three years ago when he was running that numbers game out of his bakery.”

“I thought he was in the slammer,” Starsky said.

“Nah.” Huggy shook his head. “He got off with parole. Remember there was that big stink about it on the news? The mayor’s daughter was getting her wedding cake from him.”

“Oh yeah, that big one that looked like a castle with the chocolate ganache and fondant looking like ivy. Didn’t her groom come dressed as a knight and she was some princess in a tower? He pretended to rescue her.”

“Trust you to remember the cake,” Hutch said. “I’m surprised you can say the words ganache and fondant.”

Starsky ignored him. “Thanks for the info, Hug. We’ll see you later this week. Dinner on Saturday.”

“Your table’s already reserved,” Huggy said. “Gotta go.”

Louis the Lemon was not happy to see them, especially when he was caught using real diamonds to decorate one of his cakes.

“You gotta admit it was pretty clever. Someone orders a cake and gets the goods. Too bad Louis was such a stickler for keeping track of all his orders. Robbery is gonna have a field day tracking down everything,” Starsky said as they drove home that evening. He reached over and put his hand on the back of Hutch’s neck. “What’s going on with you today? Huh? Someone piss in your yogurt this morning?”

“The expression is piss in your Cheerios,” Hutch said. He wasn’t going to admit how good Starsky’s fingers felt there as he kneaded tight muscles.

“I know it is,” Starsky said. “But you eat yogurt so…”

“Ha ha. You’re so clever.” Hutch hunched his shoulders.

Starsky withdrew his hand and they drove to their apartment in silence.

“Scrambled eggs okay?” Hutch asked as he pulled the carton out of the fridge along with some turkey sausage.

“Hmm…” Starsky came up behind him as he put the skillet on the stove. “I can think of something else I’d rather have.”

“What? You mean you don’t want to record this meal too? Post it to all your followers?” Hutch cracked an egg on the lip of the pan and watched as half the shell went in. Crap.

Starsky pinched his ass. “Nah. Home cooked food doesn’t…”

“Look as good? Satisfy you? You wanna cook your own damn meal tonight?” Hutch waved the spatula at him.

Starsky looked at him, midnight blue eyes going wide. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Hutch didn’t answer. He knew he was being ridiculous. Even worse, he knew he was being petty. He detested it in others—he hated it more in himself. But yet the thought of admitting it all to Starsky felt wrong. It was harmless fun—and Starsky was helping the small business owners and enjoying himself along the way. How could he tell Starsky he was…

“You’re jealous!” Starsky snapped his fingers in front of Hutch’s nose.
“You’re jealous of my followers.”

Hutch could feel his face redden. God, a thirty something man, a decorated detective blushing at being found out by his lover.

“Hutch.” Starsky’s voice went low—the way it did in their bedroom. “Look at me, babe.”

Hutch turned off the burner but looked down at the floor, not quite able to bring himself to look at Starsky. “I know it’s wrong.”

“Ah Hutch.” Starsky moved closer, opened his arms, pulled Hutch into a hug. “They don’t mean anything to me. You know that, right?”

Hutch relaxed into the embrace. Starsky smelled of that sandalwood soap Hutch had found at a little stand at the farmer’s market. He was all hard planes and strength.

“I don’t want to just be your Instagram boyfriend,” Hutch said against Starsky’s neck. “I thought we were more.”

Starsky’s arms tightened. “We are. You’re my everything.” He loosened his hold. “Hang on.”

Hutch let him go and felt a sinking in his gut when Starsky retrieved his phone. He watched as Starsky opened up the app.

“I can delete my account. If you want, I’ll delete it right now.”

Had it been any one of their past dates, Hutch would have accused them of using it as a test. But he didn’t even need to look into Starsky’s eyes to know his partner’s sincerity. Starsky would do it. He had no doubt.

Hutch shook his head. He wasn’t a game player either. He was acting like a lovesick teen. “Can we start the day over?”

Starsky made a show of turning off the phone, putting it on the counter. “Can we start it over by not waking up late and having time for some fun?”

Hutch held out his hand. “I’m up for it if you are.”

“Oh I’m up for it.” Starsky put Hutch’s hand the front of his jeans. “You wanna see how up for it we can both get?”

Hutch grinned. “Wanna have a contest?”

Starsky covered Hutch’s hand and thrust his hips forward slightly. “Ain’t no contest with you, babe.”

The phone vibrated on the counter and Hutch looked at it.

Starsky reached up and put a finger on Hutch’s chin. “Just you and me. Okay?”

Hutch nodded. He licked his lips.

“C’mon,” Starsky said as he walked backwards. “Don’t ya know by now you’re my only follower who counts?”

Hutch joined in the laughter as they stumbled out of clothes and tumbled into bed.

“Starsky,” he said as he raised himself up on his elbows. “How about I give my Bay City Boy some eats right now?”

Starsky laughed again and pulled Hutch down for a long lingering kiss. They came apart, slightly breathless.

“Go ahead, Blondie. I’ll give you my review when you’re done. You know me—always want to help the little…”

“Little?” Hutch pulled Starsky into his arms. “You wanna revise that?”

“I’ll let you know later.” Starsky kissed the tip of Hutch’s nose.

Much later, after Hutch had done his best, they lay side by side, content and drowsing.

“So? How was it?” Hutch asked. “You know me and performance pressure.”

Starsky turned on his side and lay his head on Hutch’s shoulder. “Oh I’d definitely come back for more. Not that I’m gonna share the info with my followers. You’re the best kept secret in Bay City, babe.”

Hutch let his fingers drift through Starsky’s curls. “Mmm.”

“There’s just one problem,” Starsky said. “All this work? I am really hungry. You wanna scramble me some eggs?”

Hutch groaned and slapped Starsky’s butt as he got up. “Only for you, Starsk. Only for you.”