Time Enough

Starsky is there for Hutch after Abbey walks away. It’s time to take the next step.

Part 3: Always Enough Series

Written for the twentyminutefic challenge. The prompt words were snow and ice.

Starsky set the picnic basket on Hutch’s kitchen counter and peered inside. “There’s plenty of bread, crackers, olives, grapes, and that Norwegian cheese you like. There’s also wine, root beer, and orange juice. Do you want anything, Hutch?”

Hutch slumped onto the sofa, his head resting heavily against the back. “Not hungry, thanks,” he murmured flatly. “You go ahead if you want.”

“Maybe in a bit,” Starsky replied, opening the fridge to store the leftovers.

Starsky cursed Abbey’s name under his breath. He understood why she left—being attacked in Hutch’s living room would have been terrifying. Starsky got it, but that didn’t make it any easier. Her leaving had done the one thing Starsky hated most—it took away Hutch’s smile.

“Got any ice for this root beer?” Starsky asked, opening the small freezer inside the fridge, only to close it with a frustrated shake of his head. “Hutch, there’s enough snow in there to build an igloo.”

Starsky glanced at Hutch, hoping for a hint of a smile, but Hutch shifted his gaze without moving his head.

“Sorry,” Hutch said quietly. “At least the rat’s gone.” He sighed heavily. “Listen, I’m not the best company right now. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to drop in on Angela and thank her for hauling the picnic basket all over the park.”

“It’s Andrea,” Starsky corrected gently.

Hutch looked at him with tired eyes. “Right, that’s what I meant,” he replied, his tone apologetic. “I don’t know what I’ve been thinking.”

Starsky left the empty picnic basket on the counter and sat beside Hutch on the sofa. “Could it be that your girlfriend got hurt, and despite all your efforts to love and protect her, she decided to leave because she didn’t want to be with a cop anymore?”

Hutch ran a hand through his hair, letting it fall onto Starsky’s lap. “Maybe,” he whispered. “I mean, that’s part of it, but it’s not what’s really on my mind.”

Starsky placed his hand over Hutch’s. “So what is it?”

Hutch inhaled deeply and shook his head in wonder. “I can’t believe you dug through your old baseball cards last night and brought them to the picnic today because you knew Abbey was leaving and I would need a distraction.”

Starsky managed a small, knowing grin. “I was just worried about you and trying to find a way to make you smile.”

Hutch’s fingers gently combed through Starsky’s curls. “Starsky,” he said softly, “knowing you would do something like that for me—that’s what makes me smile. As long as you’re by my side, I’ll always have a reason to smile.”

“Yeah?” Starsky asked.

Hutch’s hand rested in Starsky’s curls, his gaze steady. “I haven’t stopped thinking about our kiss that night after we went bowling. Remember?”

Starsky’s thoughts drifted back to that night, as they often had in the months since. Hutch had been grieving Gillian, but that night, the pain had faded into a distant memory, replaced by hope for something new—something more real.

“That kiss only lasted a moment, but I can still feel your lips on mine,” Starsky said softly. “But that doesn’t mean we should rush into anything. We agreed we need to take it slow.”

“I know,” Hutch nodded, pulling Starsky closer. “We have been taking it slow, but even a tortoise doesn’t stay still forever. I’ve said it before, life is for right now.”

“Live for today, is that it?” Starsky asked with a grin.

Hutch drew nearer. “I promise that if we dive into the water together, I won’t let you drown.”

Starsky knew he couldn’t hold back any longer, anticipating the taste of Hutch’s soft lips again, sensing a new pledge between them. “If I have to,” Starsky whispered, “I’ll tread water for both of us.”

Starsky leaned in, the allure of Hutch’s lips overpowering any remnants of rational thought, and he became lost in a kiss that completely consumed him. As they separated, their quick, synchronized breathing was the only sound in the room.

“Was that better than kissing Annabel?” Hutch asked, his gaze lowered.

“Andrea,” Starsky corrected with a soft chuckle, his pulse racing.

“That’s what I meant,” Hutch replied, lifting his gaze with a small smile. “Whatever you want to happen next, slow or fast, it’s okay with me.” Hutch’s expression sobered as he cleared his throat. “It’s not like I’m saying you shouldn’t see other people, like Annabeth, ever again.”

He didn’t bother to correct Hutch again. He could barely remember her name anymore, either.

“So, you’re suggesting we do whatever works best for us?” he asked. He felt Hutch’s quick breaths against his neck, invigorating his senses like a cool breeze.

“We can worry about tomorrow when it comes,” Hutch said, his voice barely audible. “Just know one thing.”

“What’s that?” Starsky asked.

“That I’m not going anywhere. We’ll be two old men one day, griping about walking with canes, but no matter how this goes, I’ll still be by your side, smiling.”

A sense of calm washed over Starsky, despite his racing heart. He took Hutch’s hand as they moved to the bedroom for the first time.

It was the beginning of something, Starsky knew, but he didn’t know how it would end. Maybe it would be like a volcano, awakening and erupting, flowing uncontrollably when holding back became impossible. Or, maybe it would settle in something more permanent, a resilient bedrock for the future.

Starsky was sure of only one thing: the present. Hutch was here, he was here, and the future was too uncertain to worry about. There would be time enough to think about it another day.

He pulled the covers over their naked bodies and lost himself in the only moment that mattered: right here and now, together.