Work Text:
The dilapidated house that Starsky bought for an investment had turned into a labor of love. Starsky & Hutch were spending even more time together cleaning and pounding a hammer every day they had off from work.
This bright Saturday afternoon Hutch was tackling the gutters hanging dangerously off the roof, while Starsky was in the basement fiddling with circuit breakers and new wiring. His camera was by his side filled with black & white film. Starsky was taking before pictures of every nook and cranny. Hutch had complimented the photos from the first roll saying they were artistic and soulful. Starsky's creativity grew with the praise.
At first Hutch was mad as hell. He thought the house was a waste of space and money. Till Starsky dusted Hutch off, calmed him down, plied him with a cooler full of Dos Equis and pulled him into the spacious back yard. Hutch's eyes lit up as he listened to Starsky's dreams of a brick patio & BBQ for himself and a yard filled with eco-friendly native Californian flowers for his plant loving partner.
Since then Hutch had been 100% in favor of sweat equity.
Hutch was almost finished with the roof line gutters. They were full of muck and moss and after an afternoon of hammering and hosing, the gutters were looking good and Hutch was the one covered with muck and moss.
"Sat on the roof, kicked off the mooooss." Hutch sang loudly, making a squirrel in a nearby tree swish his tail and chatter.
"Hey! Squirrel Nutkin! I'm not gonna hurt you! Leave it to Starsky to have a house with an angry squirrel in the yard." Hutch smiled. He felt happy and content.
"La da da da da daaaaaaa." Hutch sang.
Hutch's thoughts turned to his guitar leaning against the not so rickety any more porch rail. The thought of a cold one sealed the deal. He was done for the day. Hutch carefully climbed down the ladder and waved goodbye to the angry squirrel. He washed his hands with the hose and a few drops from a bottle of dish soap left for that purpose. He grabbed a beer out of the cooler on the porch and sat on a wire milk case adorned with a tattered pillow. Hutch reached for his guitar.
Starsky was proud of his finished work. He picked up his camera and snapped several frames of old wire curled on the cement floor like ancient mummified worms. Then he noticed the old chimney base. Light from a small window highlighted the faded brick. Starsky zoomed in on some words branded into a brick. "Bay City Brick Works, 1920." He smiled, thinking how much Hutch would love that. Starsky headed upstairs.
Hutch knew what he wanted to play. It had been in his head for hours. He closed his eyes and let his fingers find the chords. The words he knew.
It's a little bit funny this feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide
I don't have much money but boy, if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live
Starsky smiled as he reached the top of the basement stairs. Hutch was playing guitar on the porch. Starsky loved to hear him play. But Hutch was so shy, he hesitated to play even for an enraptured audience of one. Starsky treasured the moments like this one when he could hear Hutch play with confidence. A sudden feeling of warm hearth and safe home overwhelmed him. He sat on a five gallon paint bucket and listened, making sure Hutch couldn't see him through the open door.
Hutch was chuckling softly. He repeated the line.
Starsk if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live...
Hutch strummed the chord again, softly.
We both could live...
Starsky's heart skipped a beat. Hutch wanted to live with him! This old house could be their home someday. The thought of it brought a grin to Starsky's face.
If I was a sculptor, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show
I know it's not much but it's the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one's for you
Hutch hesitated a moment then continued.
Starsk, you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind that I sang out in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world
Starsky gasped. These were Hutch's own thoughts drifting through the air and reaching out to him.
I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss
Well a few of the gutters well they've got me quite cross
But the sun's been quite kind while I sang this song
Starsk, it's always been you that keeps me turned on
So excuse me forgetting but these things I do
I do for that trust in your eyes so blue
Anyway the thing is what I really mean
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen
Hutch closed his eyes and his voice quivered at the last note.
Starsky closed his eyes and something deep inside warmed and stirred.
Starsk, you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind that I sang out in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world
Hutch strummed loudly. The vibration traveling through the old wood floors right into Starsky's heart. Hutch's voice was strong and passionate.
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind that I sang out in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world
The notes faded and Hutch slowly put down his guitar and walked off the porch to put the ladder and tools away before looking for Starsky.
Starsky went out to the porch. He glanced at Hutch's guitar. Starsky raised his camera and took several shots of the guitar from different angles. Satisfied, he smiled at Hutch rounding the corner of the house. Starsky had captured the fleeting memory of a gift of a song.