ext_14389 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
kassidy62.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2006-05-26 07:50 pm
kassidy62.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2006-05-26 07:50 pm
Entry tags:
Someone Kneeling by Salieri (PG)
Fandom: STARSKY & HUTCH
Pairing:Starsky/Hutch
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
troyswann
Author Website: http://salieri.bonuspoints.net/
Why this must be read:
A short story, strong on the impressions it leaves behind: the glow of streetlights and the darkness of shadow; a cloud of breath on the night air; the urgent, desperate need for something or someone.
Excerpt:
... Hutch just stopped walking, shoulders hunched under the leather, and he was still, still, still. A hysterical giggle snaked up Gin's throat, and he thought *There she blows* and had to put his hands back over his mouth to keep it in. Hutch turned around real slow, head low. Gin could feel the slice of the guy's gaze as it swept past the dumpster and the electricity crackled and it wasn't just in Gin's head, no way, and even the Starsky guy could feel it because he said, "Hutch" again like you say the name of your favourite dog who turns on you all of a sudden, shows it's nowhere near tame like you thought.
"We got him," Starsky repeated. "Forget it."
Hutch's voice was a low, warning growl. "It could've been you."
"It wasn't."
Starsky didn't even take a step back when Hutch got right into his space. "If you weren't the luckiest sonofabitch on this planet," Hutch said, his face right close up to Starsky's, and his breath silver-hot in the cold black, and then he was moving, so fast that Gin lurched away, and Hutch had Starsky by the front of his jacket and was shoving him backward, against the wall, and then suddenly they were just one shadow, no spaces between them at all, and Gin didn't get it at first, couldn't, and then he did and the breath rushed out of him as his hand clutched the edge of the dumpster and he went up on his toes to see them, melded together at the mouth, and the street was silent and there was the sound of rasping breath and the squeak-creak of hands gripping leather, a struggle, force against force, to get away, to get closer.
Someone Kneeling
Pairing:Starsky/Hutch
Author on LJ:
troyswannAuthor Website: http://salieri.bonuspoints.net/
Why this must be read:
A short story, strong on the impressions it leaves behind: the glow of streetlights and the darkness of shadow; a cloud of breath on the night air; the urgent, desperate need for something or someone.
Excerpt:
... Hutch just stopped walking, shoulders hunched under the leather, and he was still, still, still. A hysterical giggle snaked up Gin's throat, and he thought *There she blows* and had to put his hands back over his mouth to keep it in. Hutch turned around real slow, head low. Gin could feel the slice of the guy's gaze as it swept past the dumpster and the electricity crackled and it wasn't just in Gin's head, no way, and even the Starsky guy could feel it because he said, "Hutch" again like you say the name of your favourite dog who turns on you all of a sudden, shows it's nowhere near tame like you thought.
"We got him," Starsky repeated. "Forget it."
Hutch's voice was a low, warning growl. "It could've been you."
"It wasn't."
Starsky didn't even take a step back when Hutch got right into his space. "If you weren't the luckiest sonofabitch on this planet," Hutch said, his face right close up to Starsky's, and his breath silver-hot in the cold black, and then he was moving, so fast that Gin lurched away, and Hutch had Starsky by the front of his jacket and was shoving him backward, against the wall, and then suddenly they were just one shadow, no spaces between them at all, and Gin didn't get it at first, couldn't, and then he did and the breath rushed out of him as his hand clutched the edge of the dumpster and he went up on his toes to see them, melded together at the mouth, and the street was silent and there was the sound of rasping breath and the squeak-creak of hands gripping leather, a struggle, force against force, to get away, to get closer.
Someone Kneeling