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Moments In Time:
Fools Rush In
Hutch could hear the music drifting through the open balcony doors as he climbed the stairs to Starsky's apartment. The deep, rich voice of Elvis Presley filled the warm evening air and brought back memories of school dances and poodle skirts. Smiling to himself, Hutch opened the front door and walked in to find his partner spread out on the blue couch, sorting through record albums.
Starsky smiled at him over one shoulder. "Hi, Hutch."
"Hi yourself. What are you doing, partner?" Hutch found a place to sit by the simple act of picking up a pile of albums from the white chair and setting them carefully on the floor.
"Aunt Rosie was cleaning out the basement and ran across a bunch of stuff that I'd stored there when I went off to 'Nam. Forgot all about it until she called yesterday and asked me what I wanted to do with it." Starsky gestured at the bright covers on the couch beside him. "Some of these go back to when I first came out here. But most of them are from just before I got drafted." He picked up one album jacket and flipped it over to look at the song list.
"You've always loved music, haven't you, buddy?" Hutch could almost see the young boy Starsky must have been back in junior high. Visions of a slight, dark-haired kid flitted across his mind as he watched his best friend smile in nostalgia at the record in his hand.
"Oh yeah. Actually, it was Aunt Rosie that got me started on it in a big way. She'd take me down to the record store and we'd spend hours listening to the demos and picking out records to bring home. She especially loved Elvis and I bet she could still sing every one of his songs by heart. Rosie's the one who taught me how to dance." Starsky grinned. "I'd asked a girl to a sock-hop forgetting that I hadn't a clue on how to dance. When I told Rosie I was going to break the date she dragged it out of me why and then she spent the week before the dance teaching me." He put the album down and leaned back, arms draped over the back of the couch, smiling at the ceiling. "You should have seen her when she was young, Hutch. She was real pretty, with a smile that'd make you cry it was so sweet. I think I had a bit of a crush on her even if she is my mom's sister."
The record that was playing came to an end. The sudden silence remained unbroken as Starsky sat staring up at the ceiling and Hutch sat watching him. The next record dropped, the arm came back over, touched the needle down, and music once again flowed through the apartment. Starsky stirred, stood up, and came to stand in front of his partner. He held out a hand.
"Dance with me."
"Huh?" Hutch felt bewitched by the look on Starsky's face. Longing, melancholy, sadness--Hutch was not sure what to name it, but it made him want to see it leave.
"Dance with me, Hutch. Please." Starsky stood patiently, hand still extended, simply waiting.
Hutch shook himself, smiled, and laid his hand in the waiting palm. The slight tug that Starsky exerted seemed to pull Hutch into Starsky's arms. Starsky did not try to take the lead; rather he wrapped his arms around Hutch's waist, looped his thumbs in Hutch's belt, and leaned against the taller man. Hutch found himself copying his friend's movements, right down to the thumbs in the belt loops and they started to sway to the music. It was then that Hutch recognized the song--one he knew well. "Can't Help Falling In Love With You" floated over and around them, the slow, sorrowful beat directing their motion as the pair moved together.
Throughout the years of their friendship they had gone dancing together many times although they had never truly danced *together*. Rather, they had partnered up with women, taken to the dance floor, and then moved to the music watching only each other. Hutch had often wished that the two of them could come together like this, like now, and just hold on to one another.
Starsky's head was nestled against Hutch's shoulder--dark, curly hair providing a comfortable spot for Hutch to rest his cheek. Arms holding each other close, bodies moving in the synchronicity that served them well on the streets, they lost themselves to the music. Hutch closed his eyes giving himself over to the magic of the moment. There was no one else to watch them, to interrupt them. Just the two of them doing something that Hutch knew they had always wanted.
One of Hutch's hands relinquished its hold on Starsky's belt and slowly traveled up Starsky's strong back to cup the back of his head. Starsky moved back just enough that the warm places where their bodies matched stayed close, but enough that he could look up into Hutch's face. For what seemed a small eternity, they locked gazes, eyes saying what their lips had never spoken. Slowly, ever so slowly, Hutch lowered his face until their silent lips touched. The kiss that followed was as slow and gentle as the music playing around them.
Hutch released Starsky's mouth, running a light thumb over the slightly parted lips. He felt them twitch in a soft smile as the music ended. Starsky unwrapped his arms from around Hutch's waist, stepped away, turned and walked to the stereo to flip the records over and start them playing again.
end