Hutch strummed his guitar and sang a few words quietly to himself.
“Whatcha playing?” Starsky was nestled into the couch, his knees pulled close, a book of little known facts balancing on his knees.
Hutch shrugged without looking up. “Just messin’ around. Seeing if I can write the next big hit.” He glanced up and grinned at Starsky for a moment before going back to his fretboard.
“Did you ever wonder what it would be like?”
“Being a big star. Walking on the stage and everybody yelling for you. Night after night a different town, a different stage, screamin’ girls, and everybody just throwin’ money at you.”
Hutch let out a bark of laughter. “It’s crossed my mind a time or two. But I really don’t think I’ll ever reach the point of screaming girls and getting money thrown at me.”
“Looked in the mirror lately? If girls don’t scream for you there’s gonna be somethin’ seriously wrong. You’re pretty than—”
“Starsky, if you say I’m prettier than a little red wagon I’m revoking your privilege of watching reruns of black and white sitcoms.”
“You’re prettier than… a golden sun?”
Hutch rolled his eyes and then said, “Might make a songwriter out of you someday, anyway.”
“I can just imagine you as a little boy with a dream of being the next big star.” Starsky had a lopsided grin.
“They say maybe dreams are only movies of the mind,” Hutch sang softly, a twinkle in his eyes.
Starsky took the book balancing on his knees and set it on the table next to the couch. He pulled his knees to him and set his head on top of them, a grin on his face.
“Still I’ve lived a few, Oh I’m not a star. Though in some ways I’ve made it.” He sang directly to Starsky. His smile getting bigger when he sang the line ‘In some ways I’ve made it,’ Starsky grinned back even bigger.
“Wonder what it would be like? If you were a big star. Don’t know if I’d like it.” Starsky shrugged. “Maybe you’d forget me on the road.”
“I'd leave it all, if you want me to, ” Hutch sang sweetly. “I'd leave it all if you tell me so.”
“Who’d you sing your songs to though?” Starsky asked, his eyes twinkling.
“I'll find a piece in me, Cuddled up when the evening's done. Playing to my audience of one.” Hutch set his guitar down then nestled back into the couch, opening his arms. Starsky grinned and crawled into Hutch’s arms.
“Love yah.” Starsky lifted his head just enough to glance back at Hutch.
“You’re still my biggest and best fan.”
“Always will be, babe.”
“Cuddled up when the evening’s done,” Hutch sang as he ran his fingers through Starsky’s hair. “Playing to my audience of one.”
Starsky turned and kissed Hutch softly.
“Love you, Starsk.” Hutch said in a voice almost a whisper.
“You really do have the voice of an angel. You know that right?”
“Do I?” His voice a whisper. If he leaned in just slightly their lips would be touching again.
“Mmmmhmm.” Starsky closed the distance between them. “Absolute angel,” He said as he broke the kiss. “Kiss like one too.”
“How would you know?” A slight laugh.
“Because, I’ve kissed you. You’re in a class of angels of the highest accord.”
Their foreheads were leaning against each other, Hutch’s hand threaded through Starsky’s hair, Starsky’s hand mindlessly caressing Hutch’s chest.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”