It started with Nicky writing three sentences on an AU setting for me- a Physics class setting for S&H.
I decided to add more to it, and invited my friends who would like contribute to the subject matter.
Hilly and Chel came through with fantastic ideas. I combined all and wrote up the story.
This story is for my friends: Nicky, Hilly and Chel
Love with Subject Matter by Sam KW.
Starsky never questioned their partnership on the Physics classes. Hutch was an amazing student and they always excelled in all the projects they had to do together. Sometimes Starsky wondered how good they would be in Chemistry, not that he didn’t already know how well they worked in that department.
Starsky sometimes thought of them as the perfect stoichiometric combustion. Their partnership was something no one ever wanted to mess with when they were together in Nam. The ultimate chemical reaction that left no by-products. The impeccable connection that ensured the survival of not only the two of them, but a whole platoon. The perfect relationship that fulfilled all emotional needs, but what about their physical desires? How long before a vessel under pressure could hold its contents before blowing up?
"Starsk, we have to get to the Chem lab in time. You know how strict Professor Smart is," Hutch said, throwing his book-bag over his shoulder.
"I really don't understand why we registered for Smart-ass's classes. We could've taken this next semester with that Goodman guy. I heard he was fun and a real teacher, too." Starsky grumbled, hurrying along the hallway to keep up with Hutch's smooth strides.
"Oh, Yeah? What makes him real?" asked Hutch.
"He never sits down without checking the seat of the chair."
****
When Starsky leaned forward and lowered his voice as if he had inhaled sulfur hexafluoride, Hutch already knew the chemistry practical would be explosive. He froze like crystallized supersaturated sodium acetate with Starsky's knuckles brushing against his cheeks.
"Watch the dry ice and magnesium, 'cos that's how it's gonna be with us," said Starsky softly, just before the shell of solid carbon dioxide flared up, emitting a bright light that illuminated the entire Chemistry lab. "Fireworks are best watched at night."
There were too many lectures to attend before they could go home, and Hutch hoped Starsky was talking about the same fireworks he had in mind.
"Hope you are not thinking about anything illegal," Hutch said without thinking.
"Illegal? What are you talking about?"
"Fireworks."
"Fireworks? It's still January, Hutch."
***
Starsky made a mental note to never eat before Biology class, again. Cutting up frogs, bugs in jars, setting alight a girl's pigtails with the Bunsen burner was hard enough, but these classes with Hutch were something different; a time to knuckle down, be serious. Reproduction? A cinch! And 'epididymis' just rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? Wait a minute. What’s this about newly-formed sperm, straight out of the testes, not being mature enough to swim up to the egg? Hutch doesn’t have eggs!
"I need to get eggs," said Hutch, setting his pen aside and stretching his arms to wiggle the kinks out of his fingers.
Starsky choked on the pencil he was chewing off. "What did you say?"
"Need eggs," Hutch said nonchalantly.
"What for?"
"Because I don’t have any, dummy! If you're planning to stay over tonight, I need some for sure."
Starsky's brow furrowed and his deep blue eyes narrowed to slits. "Huh?"
"You want breakfast, don't you?"
***
The next day was Spanish class; Hutch got both of them registered at the last minute. Starsky never liked the idea, but Hutch insisted that knowing another language would come in handy.
"I think I have stomach flu," Starsky complained.
"You always come down with something, right before Spanish. Puede explicar esto, amigo?"
"Oh, God." Starsky stopped dead in his tracks. "You got to stop speaking like that. I'm already lost in translation without having another language to deal with."
Got you right where I want you, Hutch thought with a gleam in his eyes. "Me amas?" he asked, stepping closer to Starsky and speaking softly into Starsky's ears. "Estas enamorado de mi?"
Starsky stepped back to distance himself from Hutch. "Did you just ask what I thought you asked?"
"And what do you think I asked?" Hutch asked, a sly smile spreading across his face.
"That you wanted to stop by Café Enmonde on our way home."
***
One and one makes two... unless one of them is a girl, then they could make three. But Starsky knew that their addition exercises would never make more than two happy people. Hutch was all too ready to help multiply the pleasure, or did Starsky get the formula wrong?
Probabilities are all about possibilities. Correct? If so, what was the probability of two grown men, who were different as day and night, but were in-sync with perfect harmony--okay, maybe not all the time, but still… what was the probability of him and Hutch ending up together?
"If you ask me, Starsk, chances are very slim."
Starsky groaned. Did Hutch always have to come up with an answer he wasn't expecting to hear? "Chances of what?"
"The probability of drawing two blue marbles if there are fifty blue and red marbles in a jar, at a one to four ratio of blue to red," Hutch said thoughtfully, working out the solution in his math workbook.
"Depends on whether you return the marbles back to the jar or not."
"And you know this, how?" Hutch asked, taking a break from his calculations.
"We came back from Nam. Not just you and I, but all nine of us in our group, Hutch. We survived because we made sure all our marbles remained in the jar, every day."
***
Starsky had been really quiet during the rest of the day, and Hutch was getting nervous. This wasn't good.
"What's wrong, Starsk?" Hutch asked, sitting beside him under an oak tree in the University arboretum.
"This is not going to work," Starsky said, staring into the distance.
"What?" Hutch panicked, feeling his heart pounding against his ribs.
"Another three years of this."
"You mean college?" Hutch wanted to be sure he heard right.
"Uh-huh."
"So… what do you want to do?" asked Hutch, relieved. He leaned forward, turning his head to get a good look at Starsky. At least Starsky wasn't talking about their friendship.
Starsky pulled a leaflet out of his shirt pocket.
It said, BCPD needs you, now!
"You want to go to British Columbia?" Hutch asked, his heart sinking. What the hell was he supposed to do if Starsky moved thousands of miles away?
"Bay City, goofball." Starsky folded the leaflet and pushed it back into his pocket. "Come on, time to go home," he said, bouncing to his feet.
"Err…" Hutch scratched his head. "What does PD stands for? Professional Development?"
Starsky shook his head, laughing. "I'll tell you what PD is, but first, we have to get you some eggs. Then we are going to eat at Café Edmonde, and then we are going home, to make the impossible possible."
"The impossible?" Hutch asked.
"You wanted fireworks, didn't you?"
Hutch blinked. "Fireworks?"
"My one and only," Starsky whispered "Voy a hacerte el amor toda la noche a través de."
Hutch's jaw dropped. "Did you just say what I thought you said?"
"Yep," answered Starsky. "I'm gonna give you all the fireworks you can handle."
Finally, they were on the same subject.
***END***
Notes:
Puede explicar esto, amigo = Can you explain this, my friend
Me quieries = Do you love me?
Estas enamorado de mi = Are you in love with me?
Voy a hacerte el amor toda la noche a través de = I'll make love all night
I decided to add more to it, and invited my friends who would like contribute to the subject matter.
Hilly and Chel came through with fantastic ideas. I combined all and wrote up the story.
This story is for my friends: Nicky, Hilly and Chel
Love with Subject Matter by Sam KW.
Starsky never questioned their partnership on the Physics classes. Hutch was an amazing student and they always excelled in all the projects they had to do together. Sometimes Starsky wondered how good they would be in Chemistry, not that he didn’t already know how well they worked in that department.
Starsky sometimes thought of them as the perfect stoichiometric combustion. Their partnership was something no one ever wanted to mess with when they were together in Nam. The ultimate chemical reaction that left no by-products. The impeccable connection that ensured the survival of not only the two of them, but a whole platoon. The perfect relationship that fulfilled all emotional needs, but what about their physical desires? How long before a vessel under pressure could hold its contents before blowing up?
"Starsk, we have to get to the Chem lab in time. You know how strict Professor Smart is," Hutch said, throwing his book-bag over his shoulder.
"I really don't understand why we registered for Smart-ass's classes. We could've taken this next semester with that Goodman guy. I heard he was fun and a real teacher, too." Starsky grumbled, hurrying along the hallway to keep up with Hutch's smooth strides.
"Oh, Yeah? What makes him real?" asked Hutch.
"He never sits down without checking the seat of the chair."
****
When Starsky leaned forward and lowered his voice as if he had inhaled sulfur hexafluoride, Hutch already knew the chemistry practical would be explosive. He froze like crystallized supersaturated sodium acetate with Starsky's knuckles brushing against his cheeks.
"Watch the dry ice and magnesium, 'cos that's how it's gonna be with us," said Starsky softly, just before the shell of solid carbon dioxide flared up, emitting a bright light that illuminated the entire Chemistry lab. "Fireworks are best watched at night."
There were too many lectures to attend before they could go home, and Hutch hoped Starsky was talking about the same fireworks he had in mind.
"Hope you are not thinking about anything illegal," Hutch said without thinking.
"Illegal? What are you talking about?"
"Fireworks."
"Fireworks? It's still January, Hutch."
***
Starsky made a mental note to never eat before Biology class, again. Cutting up frogs, bugs in jars, setting alight a girl's pigtails with the Bunsen burner was hard enough, but these classes with Hutch were something different; a time to knuckle down, be serious. Reproduction? A cinch! And 'epididymis' just rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? Wait a minute. What’s this about newly-formed sperm, straight out of the testes, not being mature enough to swim up to the egg? Hutch doesn’t have eggs!
"I need to get eggs," said Hutch, setting his pen aside and stretching his arms to wiggle the kinks out of his fingers.
Starsky choked on the pencil he was chewing off. "What did you say?"
"Need eggs," Hutch said nonchalantly.
"What for?"
"Because I don’t have any, dummy! If you're planning to stay over tonight, I need some for sure."
Starsky's brow furrowed and his deep blue eyes narrowed to slits. "Huh?"
"You want breakfast, don't you?"
***
The next day was Spanish class; Hutch got both of them registered at the last minute. Starsky never liked the idea, but Hutch insisted that knowing another language would come in handy.
"I think I have stomach flu," Starsky complained.
"You always come down with something, right before Spanish. Puede explicar esto, amigo?"
"Oh, God." Starsky stopped dead in his tracks. "You got to stop speaking like that. I'm already lost in translation without having another language to deal with."
Got you right where I want you, Hutch thought with a gleam in his eyes. "Me amas?" he asked, stepping closer to Starsky and speaking softly into Starsky's ears. "Estas enamorado de mi?"
Starsky stepped back to distance himself from Hutch. "Did you just ask what I thought you asked?"
"And what do you think I asked?" Hutch asked, a sly smile spreading across his face.
"That you wanted to stop by Café Enmonde on our way home."
***
One and one makes two... unless one of them is a girl, then they could make three. But Starsky knew that their addition exercises would never make more than two happy people. Hutch was all too ready to help multiply the pleasure, or did Starsky get the formula wrong?
Probabilities are all about possibilities. Correct? If so, what was the probability of two grown men, who were different as day and night, but were in-sync with perfect harmony--okay, maybe not all the time, but still… what was the probability of him and Hutch ending up together?
"If you ask me, Starsk, chances are very slim."
Starsky groaned. Did Hutch always have to come up with an answer he wasn't expecting to hear? "Chances of what?"
"The probability of drawing two blue marbles if there are fifty blue and red marbles in a jar, at a one to four ratio of blue to red," Hutch said thoughtfully, working out the solution in his math workbook.
"Depends on whether you return the marbles back to the jar or not."
"And you know this, how?" Hutch asked, taking a break from his calculations.
"We came back from Nam. Not just you and I, but all nine of us in our group, Hutch. We survived because we made sure all our marbles remained in the jar, every day."
***
Starsky had been really quiet during the rest of the day, and Hutch was getting nervous. This wasn't good.
"What's wrong, Starsk?" Hutch asked, sitting beside him under an oak tree in the University arboretum.
"This is not going to work," Starsky said, staring into the distance.
"What?" Hutch panicked, feeling his heart pounding against his ribs.
"Another three years of this."
"You mean college?" Hutch wanted to be sure he heard right.
"Uh-huh."
"So… what do you want to do?" asked Hutch, relieved. He leaned forward, turning his head to get a good look at Starsky. At least Starsky wasn't talking about their friendship.
Starsky pulled a leaflet out of his shirt pocket.
It said, BCPD needs you, now!
"You want to go to British Columbia?" Hutch asked, his heart sinking. What the hell was he supposed to do if Starsky moved thousands of miles away?
"Bay City, goofball." Starsky folded the leaflet and pushed it back into his pocket. "Come on, time to go home," he said, bouncing to his feet.
"Err…" Hutch scratched his head. "What does PD stands for? Professional Development?"
Starsky shook his head, laughing. "I'll tell you what PD is, but first, we have to get you some eggs. Then we are going to eat at Café Edmonde, and then we are going home, to make the impossible possible."
"The impossible?" Hutch asked.
"You wanted fireworks, didn't you?"
Hutch blinked. "Fireworks?"
"My one and only," Starsky whispered "Voy a hacerte el amor toda la noche a través de."
Hutch's jaw dropped. "Did you just say what I thought you said?"
"Yep," answered Starsky. "I'm gonna give you all the fireworks you can handle."
Finally, they were on the same subject.
***END***
Notes:
Puede explicar esto, amigo = Can you explain this, my friend
Me quieries = Do you love me?
Estas enamorado de mi = Are you in love with me?
Voy a hacerte el amor toda la noche a través de = I'll make love all night