Writing Your Name In Indelible Pencil

Kiko asks a question, and gets more of an answer than he reckoned for.

A/N: Lowkey inspired by freddie’s post. If you’re reading this I apologise for making the asshole’s name the one in your url. I didn’t realise that’s what I’d done until just now.

“It all started with a flat tire.”

“It didn’t- what the hell are you talking about?”

“Who’s telling this story, Starsky, me or you?”

“You are.”

“So let me tell it.”

“Okay, okay.”

“It started with a flat tire. It took me a minute after college to really decide I wanted to be a cop, so I didn’t get a spot in the Academy dorms until a few weeks into classes, when someone else dropped out. So it was week three, and I was on the bus in when it got a flat tire.”

“It may not surprise you to learn, Kiko, that this guy was painfully punctual. Like, five minutes early to every class punctual. He was wound even tighter then than he is now.”

“Well – will you let me talk?”

“What’d I do?”

“You interrupted me.”

“I’m adding commentary! Every good story has commentary. Opposing viewpoints, y’know.”

“You weren’t opposing me.”

“Additional viewpoints. Like I said, the punctuality shouldn’t be a surprise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Go back to your story.”

“…Fine. Like I was saying, week three, flat tire on the bus. First and last time I’ve ever seen a bus have a flat tire.”

“It was fate!”

“Starsky. …Maybe it was. At the time, though, it was just nerve-racking. The five minutes early tactic paid off, though – I got on the next bus, and managed to get there only a few minutes late, and luckily it was the lecturer who was always late himself.”

“Old Mr. Jordon. Bless. He was great.”

“The problem, though, was that someone was already in my seat. Not that we had assigned seating, but, I mean, it had been three weeks worth of classes. I’d sat in that seat for all of them. It was my seat. Second row back, three seats to the left of centre.”

“You still remember that?”

“Of course I do. I remember all of this. I remember the guy who was in it, too. Dark-haired, manic, incapable of just sitting in chairs-”

“Dazzlingly handsome.”

“…Good-looking enough that I might have noticed him even if he hadn’t come in five minutes late to every class and draped himself across a desk in the back row like he was a Roman emperor at a feast.”

“Aw. Tell Ma that next Pesach, she’ll be thrilled.”

“I never learnt why you were there on time that day.”

“Finish the story, then I’ll tell my side.”

“You mean that’s not what you’ve been doing this whole time? There’s not that much more to tell, anyway. I walked up to him, and – there was always an empty seat next to it, the one at the far left, because we’d all got our seats fixed by then and no-one had picked that one. I was just standing there, about to squeeze past and take that one, when he looked up at me. He was sitting- like he is now, actually. One leg up to his chest, the other one stretched out in front of him, chair rocked back onto the back legs.”

“I’m providing visual aids.”

“You just never learned how to sit on a chair. I guess he’d noticed me too, because he said, ‘Sorry, this is your seat, isn’t it?’ To which I responded-”

“-‘Uh. Yes.’ Talk about a meet-cute.”

“Talk about famous last words. End of life B.S. – Before Starsky. Thank god.”

“Awwww. I love you too.”

“Anyway, he stood up, almost knocking the chair over in the process, and moved over to the empty one. Then almost turned the desk over looking for a pencil until he finally asked me for one.”

“He fails to mention that he actually did knock the chair over tryin’ to sit down.”

“Yeah, we were a pair. I never did get that pencil back. I think it might have taken up permanent residence inside his hair, had a little pencil wife and kids.”

“Hang on, you two, don’t go anywhere.”

“Where’s he going, Hutch?”

“Who knows? Maybe he’s going to check his hair for the pencil family.”

“All that clattering, sounds like he’s evicting the whole neighbourhood.”

“Any case, he kept sitting in that chair next to me every day, talking to me, and we just… fit together. He stopped being late every day, too. Eventually-”

“Ah-ha!”

“Starsk?”

“Here.”

“You did pull the pencil out of your hair?”

“No, out of the cupboard.”

“Wait, is that-”

“Yep. The pencil you lent me that day.”

“…I don’t think it’s ‘lending’ if you still have it, Starsky?”

“You’re getting too much like Hutch, kid.”

“You kept it? All these years?”

“Yep.”

“Starsk…”

“Aw, blondie.”

“Okay. Okay, if you kept it through those first weeks, it’s definitely time to hear your side of the story.”

“Yeah, okay. Of course I’d noticed you. Guy who looks like he should be modelling briefs in an angel costume somewhere, and instead he was a neurotic mess hunched over in the front row chewing on a pencil.”

“I did not look like an underwear model.”

“Well, maybe that was hopes and overactive imagination, huh? I saw it clear enough in my head, full centerfold. Oh, babe, you’re blushing.”

“Don’t think we need to dwell on this part.”

“Whatever you say. I didn’t figure you’d click with someone just coming up and talking to you, though. Given the neurotic-mess thing.”

“You’re supposed to be telling this story to Kiko, not me.”

“Hey, I can tell the both of you at once. I’m a skilled multi-tasker and all that.”

“And you’re the one who told him to tell it, Hutch.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Fine, go on. Just stop looking at me like that.”

“What? Like I love you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good luck with that one, blondie. My end, it didn’t start with a flat tire, though, it started with a head cold. My dorm-mate had come down with one and was snoring horrendously all night, so I’d woken up at some godawful hour and was just glad to get out of there. Class or no class. That’s why I was there on time – just about – but it was a beautiful day and I guess everyone wanted to be able to get out as quick as possible, because the back row was already full. There were a few empty seats all through the room, but, well- I noticed Hutch wasn’t there. Not that I knew he was Hutch yet.”

“So you knew that was my seat all along. Your first words to me were a lie.”

“Not technically! But yeah, it was kinda premeditated. Gave me the perfect excuse to finally say hello, though.”

“…Why?”

“Apart from the underwear model looks? You were a mystery. I wanted to solve you.”

“That’s…”

“Did you? Solve him?”

“Ha. Not yet, kid, but I’m still trying.”

“And the pencil?”

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t deliberately keep it at first, I just walked out with it in my pocket, put it in a cup in my dorm room meaning to bring it back and kept forgetting till it would have been weird. But… by a few weeks in, I knew this was something special.”

“The Jimmy incident?”

“Nah, babe, earlier than that. I was long gone by then. It was nice seeing you almost punch out a guy for me, though. Why, was that when it clicked for you?”

“I think that was when I… realised it had clicked. I didn’t think about what I was doing at all, it was all just… rage, and- not protectiveness, I knew you didn’t need protecting, but-”

“I get it, blintz.”

“What did Jimmy do?”

“Was generally an asshole. Called Starsk- something not nice.”

“I’ve heard not-nice words before, Hutch.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t want to repeat it, though.”

“But…”

“He called me a kike, Kiko.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s fine, it’s just a word, I’d heard it before, but… Anyway, Hutch almost got himself kicked out of the Academy going for the guy’s throat. Which he sure got a shock out of, coming from the picture of Aryan beauty here.”

“Starsky, don’t…”

“Sorry. But that wasn’t it. I’d already pulled the pencil out, stuck it in my bedside drawer. I had a feeling it was something I’d want to keep.”

“How’d you know it was the right one?”

“Ha, I said he chewed on his pencils. See? Baby Hutch teeth marks. Like a mouse.”

“Hey!”

“What? Mice are cute.”

“You mean you took a pencil he’d had in his mouth?”

“Not the worst thing I’ve done with his mouth.”

“Star-”

“UNCLE STARSKY!!”

“So- oh my god. Sorry, kid. Ouch, Hutch, will you stop kicking me?”

“Only if you stop traumatizing my little brother.”