[Up nod, up nod to the bathroom. There are a few boys hanging close there. Guapo chicos with their hair slicked back and their jeans fitting rather snug for this side of the nineties. Hips out or toward the wall, brown eyes scoping the cantina like heat seeking missiles.
[To a cop like Freddy Newendyke and a crook like Lawrence Dimick. Nothing doing. After what they've been through the kid really doesn't fear a bunch of punks who might want to start trouble. If only he understood the kind of trouble Larry means.]
[Harmless in a way that would be annoying, maybe even a little pay back of the old man were to hold bitter sentiments like the other night. Except they're across the room. That's just fine. Larry wants to shake his head. Best drop it. One thing is for sure, Freddy can handle shit himself.
Except a glance is all they need. Two scatter from their post to coast through their territory. Sniff out and see who's taking. These creatures do like money but they do it for the action itself, the ballsiness of it. The satisfaction.
Part of what drove the old man to Mexico those years ago. He'd like to talk to someone about that day and that time. Instead Larry drains his drink. Tonight he'll ask for another.]
Don't pay them any mind then they'll clear out sooner then later.
[Because of that Larry doesn't show a look. Right now he can't hide his lying eyes. Besides, he already got into trouble once before.
Don't look now, Freddy. He's being scrutinized from how he's dressed to what he's drinking. The hoodlum decides it is worth a closer look. He bellies up to the bar right between Freddy and Larry. At least the prostitute went to the far side.]
[Freddy noooo. Larry practically hears it in slow motion. The young man gives Freddy the eye and waits for the bartender to take his order for replying.]
Where you want me to buzz to?
[Hip out and tilted to Freddy, he loops a through his belt loop.]
[Isn't his bristling a warning enough? The kid is not one to be messed with, not one to be pick pocketed or conned. Freddy's unaware even a man of his stature and looks, testosterone-laded aggression can come across as exciting.]
[Say what?? In his condition?? No way?? Er. Not that Freddy isn't flattered in some aspect, he just doesn't know how to express it. He's totally caught off guard by this man's behavior, the words, the glance, the lipsmacking. Doesn't he know they're two intimately involved men on the run from the law. Ain't nobody like them got time for trash. Freddy's so caught off guard and insulted that he instinctively reaches out to give the guy a shove to the shoulder. Nothing too rough (yet).]
[A shove? What's a shove? He turns to Larry, his back and rump to Freddy which he pretty shamelessly tilts toward him. By now it should be known that it isn't an accident. Just multitasking.]
I wasn't talking to you yet, I was talking to him.
[Even knowing that this might happen, the old man is pretty unhappy. Small, string bean of a think that this chico is with no threat to pose it rubs him the wrong way.]
I'm talking for him.
[Which their unwelcomed guest finds funny. He presses back into Freddy and looks over his shoulder. Even if he doesn't get laid, chico is enjoying the provocative. All that masculine aggression.]
[Freddy yaps at Larry, growing more resentful by the second until he finally acknowledges the ass that's practically in his lap. His side is starting to hurt.]
I said fuck off!
[One hand goes for the guy's wrist to pull it tight and high behind chico's back. Then without warning Freddy gives him a tough push. At least he lets go before doing that.]
[A vital, unfortunate second slips away. The old man could have taken their company away physically before he is slammed into the bar. Apparently it is wrong for him to have tried to shoo away the pest.]
Hey! What the hell?
[Like it is out of the blue. The burst of action gets more attention around the bar. Larry feels eyes on em. Good thing he let go of his cop move before then.]
Both of you--quit it.
[Speaking as his own separate party now. The bartender is no longer part of the furniture. He says the two fag bashers gotta go. Meaning them. Chico's friends have come on close. Fuck it is like they're sharks.]
[With all those eyes on them Freddy still finds the time to glare at Larry with characteristic near boyish resentment: you don't tell me what to do. Oh but they're causing a scene now and...what??]
I'm not a fagbasher!! That cocksucker started it!
[A point at chico...who is quickly being surrounded by chico's friends. To Freddy they're more like piranhas than sharks. Yeah, better get out of here.]
[The old man is on his feet. And not for action. He is digging for cash to leave up on the bar. Mouth is buttoned shut in a grimace. What the hell did he do wrong now? Turning he bumps elbows with another fella, not part of the aggressive twinks but the air is so static and hostile he gets a shove back.]
[Yeah after all that Freddy thinks he's totally leaving with Larry like that was the plan from the start which it is to him because chico's being an asshole and this whole bar's got his back so clearly it's the kid and the old man who are unwanted but whatever Freddy doesn't want to stay in a place like this anyway.....!!]
[Agreed. Silently at that. Larry rubs the side of his nose and turns. Jeez. Was there no other activity to pay attention to around here?]
Gonna move?
[To let them pass that is. Begrudging, in the way that folk do, there is a little room for a big Dimick to go through. Trusting that Freddy is right behind, he starts moving.]
[It's a drink. The ice rains on Larry while the contents splash over Freddy. The glass? Well. It doesn't shatter until it hits the floor at least. He whirls around and even though he has been trying to keep them cool, even though he knows it won't do a lick of good both fists come up. It's just what the bar crowd itching for action wants.]
[No need to put up your dukes, Lawrence Dimick. Freddy Newendyke is just a lightning step ahead. Out goes a freckled fist to deck the attacker. Nevermind that it's just a drink, only Freddy can throw a beverage on Larry or at least give permission to do so!!]
[Ooohhh--is the crowd getting what they want. And fight, fight is a chant that's universal. Larry's there and ready but mostly to get them out of there. It's bad. Real bad. Everyone could be the one to get them.]
Fuck off, all of you!
[The third fist to fly is Larry's. The other guy is working up retaliation a one two, right for Freddy. The old man tries to get between them.]
[Look, Dimmy, know that the kid loves you. He loves you a lot. You've been through a ton of shit together. You're going through a ton of shit now. And you've put yourself between them, voluntarily. Don't blame Freddy for taking the opening...and tucking himself just behind the old man enough to avoid the blow. He has a good reason to do this okay!! Right away he's grabbing at his clothes to start hauling ass for the exit!!]
[Love means being there for one another, through thick and thin. Love means saying you're sorry and admitting you're wrong. Love means that you make mistakes and still carry on loving.
Larry gets a mean slug in the jaw and has little time to recover right because he takes one to the chin. Luckily he's scrappy. Prison has done him worse. He gives right back even as he's backing on up.
[He doesn't let up until they're far away enough to consider themselves safe. Those guys won't call the policia, the policia are just as likely to break up their sausage party too. This isn't the city and it's definitely still just the 90s.]
That was fucking retarded.
[Freddy huffs as he offers a shirt sleeve to dab at Larry's nose.]
[Puff, puff, puff. Worked up and smarting he is trying to play it all off like he could go again for longer. He could. And take em all out with his fists and bullets. Cool it, Dimmy. You can't. That's jail time, Mexican jail time because there's no way they have enough cash to bribe for a joint shoot up. And they're already running.
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orangetoughguy) wrote2010-08-06 11:39 pm
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[Up nod, up nod to the bathroom. There are a few boys hanging close there. Guapo chicos with their hair slicked back and their jeans fitting rather snug for this side of the nineties. Hips out or toward the wall, brown eyes scoping the cantina like heat seeking missiles.
They could just be hoodlums. Could.]
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[To a cop like Freddy Newendyke and a crook like Lawrence Dimick. Nothing doing. After what they've been through the kid really doesn't fear a bunch of punks who might want to start trouble. If only he understood the kind of trouble Larry means.]
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[Harmless in a way that would be annoying, maybe even a little pay back of the old man were to hold bitter sentiments like the other night. Except they're across the room. That's just fine. Larry wants to shake his head. Best drop it. One thing is for sure, Freddy can handle shit himself.
Except a glance is all they need. Two scatter from their post to coast through their territory. Sniff out and see who's taking. These creatures do like money but they do it for the action itself, the ballsiness of it. The satisfaction.
Part of what drove the old man to Mexico those years ago. He'd like to talk to someone about that day and that time. Instead Larry drains his drink. Tonight he'll ask for another.]
Still okay on the soda?
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[Sip sip sip. Eyes glance up under a ridge of butterscotch blonde lashes. He sees those "gentlemen" on the move.]
Here comes the hood brigade.
[Freddy says, still thinking they're just going to try and swindle the pair of gringos.]
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[Because of that Larry doesn't show a look. Right now he can't hide his lying eyes. Besides, he already got into trouble once before.
Don't look now, Freddy. He's being scrutinized from how he's dressed to what he's drinking. The hoodlum decides it is worth a closer look. He bellies up to the bar right between Freddy and Larry. At least the prostitute went to the far side.]
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[Freddy snorts once his personal space is invaded. Rude. Stupid Newendyke, don't five them any attention!]
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Where you want me to buzz to?
[Hip out and tilted to Freddy, he loops a through his belt loop.]
Gotta be specific.
[Larry shifts in his seat.]
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[Isn't his bristling a warning enough? The kid is not one to be messed with, not one to be pick pocketed or conned. Freddy's unaware even a man of his stature and looks, testosterone-laded aggression can come across as exciting.]
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You sound like you wanna pound my ass, man. I dunno if hell or outside would be good for that.
[Brow eyes dip low to take a look and see at what he's packing in his jeans. Shameless. He even ends it with a lip smack.
Larry snorts.]
Look, pal. Fuck off.
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[Say what?? In his condition?? No way?? Er. Not that Freddy isn't flattered in some aspect, he just doesn't know how to express it. He's totally caught off guard by this man's behavior, the words, the glance, the lipsmacking. Doesn't he know they're two intimately involved men on the run from the law. Ain't nobody like them got time for trash. Freddy's so caught off guard and insulted that he instinctively reaches out to give the guy a shove to the shoulder. Nothing too rough (yet).]
Back off, dude.
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I wasn't talking to you yet, I was talking to him.
[Even knowing that this might happen, the old man is pretty unhappy. Small, string bean of a think that this chico is with no threat to pose it rubs him the wrong way.]
I'm talking for him.
[Which their unwelcomed guest finds funny. He presses back into Freddy and looks over his shoulder. Even if he doesn't get laid, chico is enjoying the provocative. All that masculine aggression.]
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[Freddy yaps at Larry, growing more resentful by the second until he finally acknowledges the ass that's practically in his lap. His side is starting to hurt.]
I said fuck off!
[One hand goes for the guy's wrist to pull it tight and high behind chico's back. Then without warning Freddy gives him a tough push. At least he lets go before doing that.]
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Hey! What the hell?
[Like it is out of the blue. The burst of action gets more attention around the bar. Larry feels eyes on em. Good thing he let go of his cop move before then.]
Both of you--quit it.
[Speaking as his own separate party now. The bartender is no longer part of the furniture. He says the two fag bashers gotta go. Meaning them. Chico's friends have come on close. Fuck it is like they're sharks.]
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I'm not a fagbasher!! That cocksucker started it!
[A point at chico...who is quickly being surrounded by chico's friends. To Freddy they're more like piranhas than sharks. Yeah, better get out of here.]
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[The old man is on his feet. And not for action. He is digging for cash to leave up on the bar. Mouth is buttoned shut in a grimace. What the hell did he do wrong now? Turning he bumps elbows with another fella, not part of the aggressive twinks but the air is so static and hostile he gets a shove back.]
Fuck this.
[Fuck all of it.]
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[Yeah after all that Freddy thinks he's totally leaving with Larry like that was the plan from the start which it is to him because chico's being an asshole and this whole bar's got his back so clearly it's the kid and the old man who are unwanted but whatever Freddy doesn't want to stay in a place like this anyway.....!!]
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Gonna move?
[To let them pass that is. Begrudging, in the way that folk do, there is a little room for a big Dimick to go through. Trusting that Freddy is right behind, he starts moving.]
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Fuck off, all of you!
[The third fist to fly is Larry's. The other guy is working up retaliation a one two, right for Freddy. The old man tries to get between them.]
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Larry gets a mean slug in the jaw and has little time to recover right because he takes one to the chin. Luckily he's scrappy. Prison has done him worse. He gives right back even as he's backing on up.
Oh shit. Is that blood up his nose? Maybe.]
You're fucking lucky you piece of shit!
[Leaving! Leaving officially!]
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[He doesn't let up until they're far away enough to consider themselves safe. Those guys won't call the policia, the policia are just as likely to break up their sausage party too. This isn't the city and it's definitely still just the 90s.]
That was fucking retarded.
[Freddy huffs as he offers a shirt sleeve to dab at Larry's nose.]
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The dabbing brings him back. Sniff. Snuff.]
I'm okay.
[He wiggles his nose.]
Is it bleeding?
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