The Way You Look Tonight

No drama, no angst … Just a quiet evening together for our guys.

They sat at opposite ends of the sofa, Hutch stretched out with his stocking feet up on the coffee table, Starsky sprawled against the other armrest with his bare feet in Hutch’s lap. The only light in the room came from an old movie flickering on the television screen. Each had a cold beer within easy reach and an open bag of chips sat between them. A cool breeze occasionally fluttered the curtains at the window. Life was good.

As Hutch turned slightly to delve into the bag for another handful of chips, out of the corner of his eye, he once again caught Starsky studying him. He loved his partner, he really did. With all his heart. But this little game of glance-and-smirk-and-look-away-again was beginning to get on his nerves.

“Starsky,” he finally warned, a faint note of irritation disturbing the quiet contentment that, until then, had lain over them both like a quilt. “Cut it out.”

He didn’t have to look at Starsky to know he was grinning. “What,” he asked innocently, “You don’t like me lookin’ at ya’?”

“I thought you wanted to watch this movie,” Hutch shot back.

“I did,” Starsky said, “But then I decided I’d rather watch you instead. You should see yourself, Hutch! Sittin’ there, in this light. I swear, babe, you’re…”

“Don’t!” Hutch interrupted him, quickly turning to face his partner with both the patented Hutchinson scowl and the dreaded upraised finger. “I know what you’re thinking and don’t you dare say it!”

Starsky’s grin only broadened. “But you are, Hutch,” he protested mildly. “There’s no need to be embarrassed about it.”

“I’m not embarrassed and I am *not* glowing,” Hutch harrumphed.

“Well, then,” Starsky chuckled, undaunted. “How ’bout if I said instead that you were shining? Shimmering? Gleaming? Incandescing?”

Hutch snorted. “You sound like you swallowed a thesaurus,” he teased, hoping the dim light would hide the pleased blush his partner’s words were causing.

“You think you’re the only one around here who knows a few fancy words?” Starsky responded, then his smile softened and became a bit wistful. “You make me wish I could write poetry,” he said softly. “No kidding, Hutch. You’re that beautiful.”

By now, Hutch was blushing so hard he was afraid he might be “glowing” after all. “Jeez, Starsk! Where do you come up with this stuff?”

“I dunno,” Starsky shrugged. “I was sitting here, watching the movie…then you musta moved or something and the light caught you in a certain way and it just hit me all over again like a ton o’ bricks how much I love ya’. How lucky I am to have you in my life.”

Hutch felt himself melting. “Aw, Starsky,” he managed around the sudden lump in his throat. “*I’m* the lucky one. God only knows what I ever did to deserve you…but, whatever it was, I’m sure glad I did it.” Tossing the bag of chips onto the coffee table, he dropped his feet to the floor at the same time as he leaned over to pull his lover against him for a long, slow, sweet kiss. “You still wanna watch this movie?” he whispered, his warm breath against Starsky’s ear causing little shivers to dance down Starsky’s spine.

“I dunno. What else did you have in mind?” Starsky asked, a bit of his earlier mischief back again.

“How ’bout we take this into the bedroom and see if I can make you glow.”

“You already do, babe,” Starsky smiled as he took Hutch’s hand and allowed his partner to help him to his feet. “All the time.”