“Are you listening to me, Hutch? HUTCH!”
“Hmm?” He was staring out the window, not paying attention to anything in particular, as the Torino whizzed by familiar landmarks on their way home. He didn’t look at Starsky, but he recognized the faint exasperation in his partner’s tone that told him Starsky had been talking for a while and was expecting an answer. “I’m sorry, Starsk. What did you say?”
There was a heavy sigh, then Starsky said, “I was asking what you wanted to do for your birthday.”
He said nothing for a moment, but Starsky was making an effort and he didn’t want to blow him off. “Let’s just stay in. Maybe order a pizza, have a couple of beers.”
“But I’d planned—”
“Then why ask?” His impending birthday made him melancholy. “Let it go, Starsk. I don’t really need anything. Let it be just another day.”
The rest of the drive home was done in silence.
Starsky did as he asked and treated his birthday as just another day. Their shift was quiet, they got off on-time and they stayed in and watched Casablanca while they ate the pizza they’d picked up on their way home. They skipped the beer, washing the food down with a couple of Cokes, then Starsky cleaned up.
He was standing at the window in the darkened bedroom when Starsky came looking for him.
“What’s that you’re humming?”
“What? Oh, nothing. Just the song from that movie.” He stopped humming “As Time Goes By”, but didn’t turn from the window.
“Something wrong, Hutch?”
“No. Nothing’s wrong. I’m good. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Failed dreams,” he whispered, hugging himself. “Failed dreams and tarnished memories.” He waited, but Starsky stayed by the door and didn’t come close. Still melancholy, he sighed and said louder, “Nothing important. Maybe we should have those beers now, Starsk. I’ll come out.”
He heard Starsky head for the kitchen, heard the refrigerator door open and close, but he stayed at the window, humming absently. “…will you still love me…”.
“Hutch?”
He stopped humming and joined Starsky.
Hours later, they’d gone to bed and held each other. Starsky fell asleep, but Hutch didn’t. Couldn’t. He got up quietly and left the bedroom. Alone in the living room darkness, he went to the shelves, pulled out a hidden record album and put it on the stereo. The music played softly and he listened with his eyes closed, trying to remember how it felt to dance with the one he loved so long ago.
But he could only remember the ridicule – and it still hurt.
The song ended. Another started. Hutch sniffed and reached out to turn it off.
“Leave it on. Please? I haven’t heard that album in years. One of her Greatest Hits one, right? I always liked it.” The quiet voice cut through the darkness, but didn’t intrude. “I didn’t know you had a copy.”
He sighed, but left the stereo alone. “Yeah, I haven’t played it in years. It used to mean something.”
“Still does, I think. Why tonight?”
It was a memory he never intended to share with anyone. But this was Starsky, and maybe it was time to tell his lover, even if Starsky made fun, too.
“Because…because it’s my birthday. Because she’s dead. Because it’s time to admit she was right and let go of a silly notion I had.”
“She?”
“Vanessa.” It was as the self-named, pretentious, super-model wannabe he chose to think of his ex now, dead this past year. It blunted the pain associated with her.
“What notion?”
“I used to like…” He re-considered for a moment, but didn’t change his mind and continued. “I liked to slow-dance. Thought it was a terribly romantic thing to do. Silly, right?” He braced himself for whatever cutting remark Starsky would make.
“I don’t think so. Why would you?”
It surprised him that Starsky was accepting of the idea. “Nancy said it was. When we first got together, she would make a nice dinner and we would slow-dance on my birthday. I wanted to do it more often, but she said that made it special. Then I found out she was humoring me. She thought because I came from money, I had money, that we would have a more… lavish… lifestyle. When I became a cop, she stopped pretending and became ‘Vanessa’. Van had her own ideas about what was romantic and slow-dancing with me wasn’t one of them.” Hutch took careful breaths and admitted, “The birthday dinners and dances stopped, but the ridicule didn’t. Turns out, she didn’t even like Linda Rondstadt’s voice, so I put the album away. Maybe I should have destroyed it.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
His favorite song on the album started, and suddenly, he was in Starsky’s arms. “Dance with me, Hutch.”
Already, they were swaying to the music and he leaned against his lover and closed his eyes, humming along as Linda sang. Someone to lay down beside me, and even though it’s not real…
“This song is so sad, but I love it,” Starsky murmured in his ear. “And I love you. But what we have is real. Believe it, babe. And we don’t have to wait for your birthday. We can do this any time you want. It’s romantic as hell. Just like you.”
And Starsky kissed him.
Beautiful and sweet!!
My heart aches for Hutch and his pain and suffering over Vanessa’s lasting ridicule. Of course Starsky is there to set him straight with no judgment or reservation. Great big sigh for this lovely story.
OMGODDESS! This is my fantasy made real! I LOVE when the boys slow dance together.
You’ve done a wonderful job of capturing Hutch’s palpable melancholy–something he series wasn’t afraid to show–without all the baggage that TV shows often saddled character with. For example, I’ve watched shows where a male character could only share his sadness while drunk. Hutch’s depths have depths and he plunges right in, often stonecold sober. I’m so glad your Starsky was there to provide him comfort. This is one of my favorite types of H/C–emotional hurt/physical comfort.
I also like how you leapt right into Hutch’s mood from the very beginning and kept the pressure on until just the right moment.
Thank you, so very much, for writing and sharing.
Ahh, I’m so glad Hutch has Starsky with him to share his good and bad times. Thanks!
lovely story, so sweet
I also think slow dancing is romantic. So sweet that the guys are doing it together…
Just a wonderfully written story about slow, sweet, mature love!
What a beautiful story. I love that Starsky didn’t jump to jealousy (as many people do) when he found out that it was Vanessa that Hutch was reminiscing about, and I’m really glad that Hutch finally found someone who likes to slow dance with him too.
Thank you for this sweet story. You’ve given me one of favorites, two men slow dancing. So romantic, and sensual, and loving (have you read The Labyrinth?). It makes me happy to see their depth, and that they’re still discovering new things out about each other.
That was a sweet story! I love the image of them slow dancing. Thank you!
Well that was just gorgeous. I can picture them swaying softly together and I could feel Hutch’s lingering pain. Beautifully written.
Beautiful 💖 And can I just say, what a great tell on Vanessa’s character that she only pretended to like Linda’s voice. I’m sure Starsky will make it his mission to erase the painful memories with sweet, loving slow dances from here on out. Thanks so much for this, Jessica!
Very sweet and sad.