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crack_van2009-10-11 06:48 pm
lauramcewan.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-10-11 06:48 pm
Entry tags:
The Salt Point by Isabel Ortiz (NC-17)
Fandom: STARSKY & HUTCH
Pairing: Starsky/Hutch
Length: 243k (nice and long)
Author on LJ: None
Author Website: Isabel Ortiz on the Starsky & Hutch Archive
Why this must be read:
This story hit a *lot* of my buttons. It begins at John Blaine's funeral and all the emotions and regrets and pain – and truth – that this event brings to Starsky, and to Hutch, as well.
It's so very beautifully written, with language that for me, truly illustrated the emotions and feelings. Very sweet and thoughtful, with a lots of thinky thoughts on the parts of both our guys as separately they come to a shared realization, but at different times. The love and caring is so very evident, and the writing flows, carries you on a wave and makes you not want to put the story down to do mundane things like make breakfast for your family. :)
As if on cue Starsky stood, stretched his arms high into the air and yawned, moving to silence the television set even before the credits had started rolling. He turned back to his friend, saying simply, "It's been a long day."
"Yeah," Hutch replied evenly. "I'd better be getting home." He gave Starsky a long, assessing look. "Will you be O.K.?"
"Yeah, sure." He contemplated a spot on the wall beyond Hutch's left shoulder. "Life goes on, right?"
And on and on and on ... Hutch thought as he lifted himself from the comfort of the couch. Starsky was standing quietly in the middle of the room, and though Hutch knew that he was doing all right in a relative sort of way he still looked mightily depressed. What did you expect?
"Listen, Starsk, if ... if you need anything, just call, O.K.?"
Starsky nodded. "Count on it."
He followed Hutch to the door, but before the latter could turn the knob to let himself out a hand on his shoulder and a soft voice stopped him. "Hey ..."
Hutch turned, for some inexplicable reason suddenly dreading the moment about to occur. He knew that look in Starsky's eyes, knew that shy smile. He didn't want to be thanked, didn't want to be reminded of how little he really deserved it. "Is for horses," he said absurdly, not smiling.
"That, too." Starsky held his gaze for a long time, staring at him with dark, serious eyes. Hutch resisted interpreting their expression and found himself wanting to break the gaze before he drowned in it, yet altogether incapable of looking away. Damn those eyes ... Starsky reached out for him then and Hutch had no choice but to respond, wrapping his arms around his friend, leaning his cheek into the thicket of curls. Damn the way this makes me feel ... Hutch deliberately blanked his mind but he knew that his body would later recall in detail the precious sensations of holding on, of being held. It always did. Starsky's voice broke through Hutch's mental haze and he distantly noted the way his breath warmed the shirt he wore.
"I know you don't wanna hear it, but I wanna say it. Thank you. For bein' here with me. For listenin'. For hard boilin' the eggs. For ... for just bein' who you are an' for always bein' honest with me." Hutch's chest constricted, making it a little harder to breathe. It had nothing to do at the moment with Starsky's arms around him.
"Starsk ..."
"No, I mean it," Starsky insisted, shaking his head into Hutch's shoulder, causing uncomfortable ripples of awareness. "You really can't know how much it means to me. After Pop died, I sorta stopped trustin' people. It was a long time before I learned how to do it again. John was a big part of that, but you ..." He drew back to look into Hutch's eyes. "Man, you wrote the fuckin' book, an' there ain't no way I can ever thank you enough for that." Starsky's arms gathered Hutch closer, even tighter than before, and when he finally let go Hutch thought fleetingly that it was perhaps in the nick of time ...
The Salt Point (part one – links to part two).
Pairing: Starsky/Hutch
Length: 243k (nice and long)
Author on LJ: None
Author Website: Isabel Ortiz on the Starsky & Hutch Archive
Why this must be read:
This story hit a *lot* of my buttons. It begins at John Blaine's funeral and all the emotions and regrets and pain – and truth – that this event brings to Starsky, and to Hutch, as well.
It's so very beautifully written, with language that for me, truly illustrated the emotions and feelings. Very sweet and thoughtful, with a lots of thinky thoughts on the parts of both our guys as separately they come to a shared realization, but at different times. The love and caring is so very evident, and the writing flows, carries you on a wave and makes you not want to put the story down to do mundane things like make breakfast for your family. :)
As if on cue Starsky stood, stretched his arms high into the air and yawned, moving to silence the television set even before the credits had started rolling. He turned back to his friend, saying simply, "It's been a long day."
"Yeah," Hutch replied evenly. "I'd better be getting home." He gave Starsky a long, assessing look. "Will you be O.K.?"
"Yeah, sure." He contemplated a spot on the wall beyond Hutch's left shoulder. "Life goes on, right?"
And on and on and on ... Hutch thought as he lifted himself from the comfort of the couch. Starsky was standing quietly in the middle of the room, and though Hutch knew that he was doing all right in a relative sort of way he still looked mightily depressed. What did you expect?
"Listen, Starsk, if ... if you need anything, just call, O.K.?"
Starsky nodded. "Count on it."
He followed Hutch to the door, but before the latter could turn the knob to let himself out a hand on his shoulder and a soft voice stopped him. "Hey ..."
Hutch turned, for some inexplicable reason suddenly dreading the moment about to occur. He knew that look in Starsky's eyes, knew that shy smile. He didn't want to be thanked, didn't want to be reminded of how little he really deserved it. "Is for horses," he said absurdly, not smiling.
"That, too." Starsky held his gaze for a long time, staring at him with dark, serious eyes. Hutch resisted interpreting their expression and found himself wanting to break the gaze before he drowned in it, yet altogether incapable of looking away. Damn those eyes ... Starsky reached out for him then and Hutch had no choice but to respond, wrapping his arms around his friend, leaning his cheek into the thicket of curls. Damn the way this makes me feel ... Hutch deliberately blanked his mind but he knew that his body would later recall in detail the precious sensations of holding on, of being held. It always did. Starsky's voice broke through Hutch's mental haze and he distantly noted the way his breath warmed the shirt he wore.
"I know you don't wanna hear it, but I wanna say it. Thank you. For bein' here with me. For listenin'. For hard boilin' the eggs. For ... for just bein' who you are an' for always bein' honest with me." Hutch's chest constricted, making it a little harder to breathe. It had nothing to do at the moment with Starsky's arms around him.
"Starsk ..."
"No, I mean it," Starsky insisted, shaking his head into Hutch's shoulder, causing uncomfortable ripples of awareness. "You really can't know how much it means to me. After Pop died, I sorta stopped trustin' people. It was a long time before I learned how to do it again. John was a big part of that, but you ..." He drew back to look into Hutch's eyes. "Man, you wrote the fuckin' book, an' there ain't no way I can ever thank you enough for that." Starsky's arms gathered Hutch closer, even tighter than before, and when he finally let go Hutch thought fleetingly that it was perhaps in the nick of time ...
The Salt Point (part one – links to part two).
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