Favored Son & Boneyard by Kate (CMT) (R)

[nickygabriel]

Fandom: STARSKY & HUTCH
Pairing: none
Length: ~40900 & ~42300 words respectively
Author on LJ: not known
Author Website: HERE
Why this must be read:

There are many reasons I like the stories but I've chosen these particular two mostly because it's about Hutch and his father. In my opinion Grant Hutchinson is one of the best original characters ever written in this fandom. It begins as almost every such story – Grant is disappointed by his son's career choice, he does not like Starsky and he wants his son back. Suddenly they all are facing unexpected danger on some remote island and Grant takes a look into his son's life, into Hutch's relationship with Starsky and he has to prove how good surgeon he really is.
In the second story Grant discovers some disturbing facts about Hutch's past and again they have to decide what is really important for them. If you like what you read, give a try the rest of her stories (Grant is in almost all of them). You will not be disappointed. She has a specific style of writing and I just love the way she describes Starsky and Hutch's relationship.

Excerpt from Favored Son

“Trust me, babe. Relax and let the water do its stuff. You’ve got a nasty fever, Gordo. I know your gut reaction is to be stubborn as shit, but you’ve gotta listen to me this time.”

Starsky grunted. He turned his face against Hutch’s neck. “ ...sucks...”

Hutch chuckled, raising a dripping hand to stroke his cheek. “Yeah, it does, but the fact that you’re talking at all is a freaking miracle. Don’t get too bent out of shape if I try to kiss you.”

Starsky cracked a single eye, foggy-minded and lethargic but responding a bit as Hutch intended. “That’ll cost ya.”

Hutch grinned, his heart leaping at the bantering sound of Starsky’s voice. “Hey, buddy, I’ll pay. All those women who are always fawning all over you must know something I don’t. Either that or you’ve got a small fortune tucked away somewhere.”

Starsky snorted. His eyelashes dipped again, his voice thinning as sleep nuzzled close. “Doesn’t matter,” he murmured. “I don’t kiss... stuck-up snots... thought you were a conceited ass... first time I met you... know that?”

“Sure,” Hutch responded softly. “You told me - - bluntly too. Doesn’t matter though. I thought you were an uncouth jerk. Still do.” He dipped his head, lightly brushing his lips against Starsky’s brow. His breath caught in his throat with an audible hitch. “Guess you kind of wore on me.”

Starsky rolled his eyes. “So what... I’m gonna turn into a prince now?”

Hutch gave a short strangled laugh. “A frog, you ass.” He dropped his forehead against Starsky’s, imagining a time and place where danger and death didn’t linger around every corner. Where his father wasn’t off lumbering through a jungle, possibly captured or dead, and Starsky wasn’t a step away from dying himself. Where surgery meant more than a crudely sterilized knife and a cold set of handcuffs for restraint.

Hutch moaned softly, pulling away at the ugly memory. “Starsk?”

“Hmm?”

“I... I’m sorry I handcuffed you. I, uh...” His voice faltered as the repulsive image blundered back in glaring clarity. “I-I didn’t kn-know what else to do. I never wanted to hurt you like that.”

Excerpt form Boneyard

For his part, Hutch remained oblivious to his father’s presence. As upset as he was with Starsky, the perceived betrayal didn’t stop him from burrowing closer. Starsky guessed it was like choosing the lesser of two evils.

“Starsk, please. No morphine.”

Starsky scrunched his eyes closed, silencing the bitter sting. As hurt as Hutch was, his initial reaction was to promise his friend whatever he had to in order to make him feel better. Anything to put them on the same side again and right the ugly wrong. But helping Hutch now, would only hurt him later. As much as Starsky didn’t want to be the bad guy, he knew he couldn’t back down.

“Buddy, do you remember what I said?” He swallowed hard, wondering if the words even had value anymore: “Do you trust me?” How could he possibly ask such a ridiculous thing after Hutch thought he’d set him up?

But Hutch shocked him by nodding against his chest without hesitation.

Warmth flowed through Starsky, piercing and bittersweet. He exchanged a sharp glance with Grant, warning him still. How far did trust go? How far could he push the bonds testing the limits of heedless devotion? It was one matter for Hutch to be frightened. Another for him to step onto a limb, placing blind faith in Starsky to keep him from falling.

Starsky held his breath. “Then give me your arm.”

Hutch didn’t move and for an agonizing minute Starsky thought he’d failed . . .that the trust between them had been damaged after all. Then slowly, breathing a barely audible moan ribbed with fear, Hutch shifted and unfurled his arm.

Favored Son
Semi-sequel: Boneyard