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All I Have to Do is Dream

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Dream, dream, dream, dream

There were certain things that Starsky loved. The feel of Hutch’s arm around him. The sound of Hutch’s laugh. The smell of that shampoo that Hutch always used. 

Dream, dream, dream, dream

There were certain things that Starsky loved. The feel of a warm summer night enveloping him. The sound of the ocean crashing onto the shore. The smell of wildflowers in the distance.

When I want you in my arms
When I want you and all your charms

There were only two things that Starsky was certain of at the moment. His bed and blanket were incredibly soft, that new fabric softener really was amazing, and the sounds of “All I Have To Do Is Dream” by The Everly Brothers on constant loop. At the end of the song Starsky would pick up the needle, place it at the beginning, and repeat the process all over again. All while staring at his ceiling and not moving any muscle of his body more than he had to in order to restart the record player that he conveniently placed next to him.  

Whenever I want you
All I have to do is dream 

There were certain things that Starsky knew he would love. To feel Hutch’s arms around him, a summer breeze caressing them. To hear Hutch gently laughing, the ocean waves crashing onto the shore as they lay intertwined together. To inhale deeply and to smell such a lovely combination of scents intertwining together so that he wasn’t sure which were the flowers that nature gave, and what was just simply Hutch

  Dream, dream, dream

It was an odd thing. To be in love with your best friend. Not just to love him, but to be in love with him. It was odd, to put it mildly. Because, the thing was, you didn’t quite understand why you were in love. What was so different from being in love to simply loving your best friend. Love was such a wonderful thing. Love between friends, between parent and child, between siblings, it was all love. But, there were different types of love. That didn’t make any of the other loves any less than the others, it just meant they were different. The thing was, Starsky wasn’t quite sure why, when, or how his love for Hutch had become something more than friendship. He would stay friends with him forever, if Hutch let him, but the thing was...Starsky not only wanted to feel Hutch’s arms around him, like they so often were, but to feel his lips press against his. To feel Hutch’s hands exploring his body, to trace every single inch of Hutch with his fingertips and follow with his lips. He was in love with his best friend. So desperately, and so passionately, in love.  

When I feel blue in the night
And I need you to hold me tight
Whenever I want you
All I have to do is dream

Starsky could almost feel Hutch’s warmth next to him. If he closed his eyes and let himself drift, he could pretend to hear a soft I love you, Starsk. He could have everything he ever wanted, just so long as he was allowed to dream. For what are dreams for? To be able to grasp what your heart so yearns for. To hold what your soul longs after. To hear the words, to feel the touch, that your very spirit sings out for.

I can make you mine
Taste your lips of wine
Anytime night or day

Starsky moved higher up on the bed. Maybe when the song finished this time, he’d simply let himself fall asleep. Maybe, just maybe, he would dream of Hutch. A real dream. Not a daydream, but the dreams that you wake up from and for a fleeting moment you believe they’re real. For a fleeting moment, everything is okay. For just that sliver of time, your dreams are reality and the one you love, simply loves you back.

Only trouble is
Gee whiz
I'm dreamin' my life away 

The problem with dreams though? They were temporary. Perhaps, they weren’t exactly lies, but they weren’t the truth you had to live with day to day. For a fleeting moment when he woke up, he could believe that Hutch loved him the same way he loved him. But then when he woke fully to his surroundings, he would realize he was alone. Hutch’s arms weren’t around him, he hadn’t been awakened with a good-morning kiss, and his heart would begin to yearn once more. 

  I need you so, that I could die

“Starsky?”

Wasn’t it funny how you could believe your daydreams and think they were real to the point you could really hear them?

“Starsk?”

He was almost tempted to open his eyes. But, he knew Hutch really wasn’t there. It was simply his soul longing so desperately that he had convinced himself that maybe dreams do come true.

“Starsky, are you okay?”

He jumped. The hand he felt on his shoulder was too real to not be real

“Hutch?” He sat straight up in bed. His heart racing as fast as he wanted to race out the door.

“Starsky?”

“I,” Starsky inhaled sharply. “How long have you been here?”

“About three replays of “All I Have to Do is Dream” by the Everly Brothers.” He let out a small laugh. “I was trying to see how long it took you to notice me but you, well you never did.” His hand was still resting on Starsky’s shoulder, and when Starsky realized he pulled away sharply.

“Way to sneak up on a guy,” he muttered, eyes downcast.

“Starsk, what’s wrong? Love gone wrong?” his tone was almost joking, but his blue eyes held such a sincere concern that Starsky would have began to cry immediately if he would have looked up. 

Love that hasn’t even began. Or rather, maybe it has began. I’m just a fool that wants to kiss you. “Can’t a guy listen to The Everly Brothers?” He tried to laugh but it caught in his throat.

I love you so and that is why 

“Starsk?”

He pulled back further, wishing Hutch’s voice really had been just his dreams. Actually having to talk to him was somehow worse. God, what was happening to him if he didn’t want to talk to Hutch

“It isn’t important, Blintz.”

“It looks like it is.”

“Looks aren’t everything, you know.”

“I’m well aware.” Starsky let out a melancholy laugh.

“Starsk?”

“You know, looks really aren’t everything. Sadly.”

“Are you,” he shook his head at Starsky’s self-pitying rant, a rant that didn’t seem to make any sense at the moment, “Are you okay?”

“Do you know, Detective Hutchinson, how many people assume that maybe there’s something more going on between us besides simply friendship?”

“I haven’t exactly been keeping a tally. It doesn’t matter what they think, Starsk. We know who we are and that’s all that matters.” His voice was softer somehow than normal. He reached out to place a hand on Starsky’s shoulder and Starsky pulled away sharply again.

“Do we? Do we really?”

“Tell me what’s wrong, Starsky. I can’t help if you won’t tell me.”

Whenever I want you

“You.” There were certain things that Starsky regretted the moment he said them. But, he knew he would regret not saying them more. He didn’t want to lose Hutch. He didn’t want to lose his friendship or the love they shared. But, a part of him wanted to love him the way he so desperately wanted even more than to go on dying this way.

“Wh-what?” Hutch’s voice was a whisper. A confused whisper.

“You asked me what the problem was. I told you. You.”

“What?” There was no anger in his eyes, which is what Starsky had somehow been expecting, but rather just confused hurt.

“You are going to hate me,” he said with a tight jaw, and an even tighter ache in his chest. 

“Why?”

Dream, dream, dream, dream

Wasn’t it funny how your life could change so quickly? How wanting your dreams so desperately made you make the stupidest decisions, and then regret them the moment it was just a fraction of a second too late to take it all back.

“Because,” Starsky forced himself to look into his eyes, “I love you, Hutch.”

“Why would I hate you for that?”

“You should.”

“But, why? I’ve always loved you, Starsk.”

“Not like this.” Starsky’s voice was just a whisper. Hutch had to lean in to catch his words. 

I can make you mine
Taste your lips of wine

Starsky leaned the rest of the way in and took Hutch’s face between his hands and kissed him gently. What surprised Starsky more than the fact of Hutch not pulling away, was the fact Hutch wrapped his arms around Starsky and pulled him in closer. Maybe this really was a dream.

 Anytime night or day
Only trouble is
Gee whiz
I'm dreamin' my life away

“Exactly like this.” Hutch whispered. An answer to Starsky’s denial of his love. How could Starsky not realize how much he loved him?

“What?”

“I’ve always loved you, Starsk.”

“Like this?” His fingers tangled in blond hair. 

Hutch leaned in and kissed him again.

I need you so, that I could die

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Starsky asked as they broke the kiss.

“I thought you knew.”

“What?”

 I love you so and that is why

“There hasn’t ever been a moment I didn’t love you. I just thought,” Hutch let out a quiet laugh, “I don’t know, what I thought. Maybe I was waiting for you to make the first move. Maybe I was scared. I don’t know.”

“I love you, Hutch.”

“I love you, Starsk.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you.”

Whenever I want you
All I have to do is dream

“This is real?” Starsky asked, his arms wrapped around Hutch and his head resting on his chest.

“As real as my love for you.”

Starsky almost shot back a smart reply—something about Hutch’s inner poet being corny—then realized there were none coming to mind because Hutch was in love with him also. This was real

“Hutch?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you.”

Hutch kissed the top of his head and pulled Starsky even closer against him. “Love you, Starsk.”

Dream, dream, dream