orangetoughguy | log post II

[High pitched, reedy, like he's in pain except he's not and it ought to be deliriously obvious to Larry he is far from hurting right now. Thump. His foot falls to the mattress only to hook his heel on Larry again somehow, anywhere, his torso, the back of his knee, just to lock them together. Oh fuck yes he's taking it to his face too. What the fuck kind of rock and roll fantasy is this?]

Lee. [Larry. He's groaning the name out ragged.] Fuck. Oh fuck...

[And the come down. His breathing slows in pace but doesn't get any shallower. Freddy's taking deep ones with green eyes glued to the old man's face. Did he just say what he thinks he saw? Goddamn amazing.] Shit. Shit that was good.

[Fingers beckon for White to bring that face over here so he can kiss him.]

[Fucking in a place like this with hardly anything here brings to light that the most valuable thing he has in this city aren't diamonds. As much as they have fought and bled for them, they can be replaced. And what fun are diamonds in a run down motel with a 90s polaroid camera?

That foot hooks at the back of his knee, sticky with sweat. It could be both of theirs.]

Yeah, baby? You want some more?

[Fuck. He's feeling breathless too. Here he is happily hauled up to Freddy's face. Paws more carefully, still dirty and sticky in a different way.

No kiss refusal here.]

[In Freddy's case the diamonds were never considered a prize. There are legal reasons for that, sure, but if he had to throw those diamonds into a super massive blackhole to protect the people he loves (the man who helped get those diamonds) he'd do it.]

Yeah. I want some more.

[Some more affection this time. When Larry meets him face to face the bandana bandit pulls him in for a firm kiss. It's hard without being rough. It includes his tongue without being sloppy even if there's a bit of semen and saliva together. They'll have to take one hell of a shower for sure. When the kid gets a moment to breathe he smiles.]

You dirty son of a bitch. [Literally. Figuratively.]

It's all yours.

[All the affection.

Big fingers pull at the handkerchief to make use out of it. Easy enough task to accomplish while being swept up in a kiss like this. Even though they're about as low and seedy as dirty pictures are it is some kind of a movie kiss. All he could ever want.]

I say that's a wrap for now.

[He lets himself fall in for another.]

I think there must have been about a hundred shots.

[And three vital ones in that mix. Larry turns his head to look around the room. A few pictures are laying on top of one another mimicking the two men as they are. Flesh visible, hair here, hair there.]

....we gotta clean up before we go.

[He's never seen a dirty movie with this kind of kiss nope. That's one for the Oscars and Freddy would even settle for a nomination than an award. Either way he doesn't give a fuck as long as Larry's right here.]

That's cool. [The wrap he means. Lips purse for another as fingers rub circles around Larry's scar idly. The one he, Freddy Newendyke, basically caused.] We're gonna have to go through all of'em, weed out the crap.

[He shrugs once like it's no thing.] How'd you find this place anyway?

[Not a trick question. Honest.]

[There's a reason why there are skin flicks and Oscar films. People have to get their needs elsewhere. These two shits get about the best of both worlds most of the time. The rest it is more of grindhouse picture. And that's just the way that it is. Who gives a fuck so long as Freddy, badge or no badge is right here.]

Editing is a brutal process. Maybe we should leave the ones you don't want here.

[He is kidding. What would some fuck think though coming in here seeing everything they missed out on? Hah.]

I heard some of the fellas talking about how the motels around this block get a lot of action. And I made sure to go to one they don't.

[Tricky answer.]

Fair enough.

[On the motel question. He's not fishing for details or salaciously withheld testimony or anything. As for leaving pictures behind, the kid shakes his head.]

No way what if someone takes one and puts their name on it? Publishing's kind of a bitch you know. I think that's gonna stay though.

[He points at the briefs laying dirty, oiled, cum-stained, and who knows what else on the floor over there. He doesn't want to put them back on purely for sanitary reasons. Uh huh. Even this kid can have some standards.]

They also say alotta weird, down and dirty shit goes down here so I knew it was for us.

[...he may be joking. It does sound like it would be true though wouldn't it? Larry sighs and takes a slow look around them before resting his head on Freddy's shoulder.]

Good thinking. You have a nose for this industry. [And a nose to begin with.]

Fine by me. Goes to show a good time was had by all or whoever wore those.

[Ain't that right?]

You got taste for weird and dirty.

[Freddy remarks with another shrug and lazy smile. Where his nose is concerned, well yes he's got one. Some would call it a beak or a bill to rival even a toucan but it doesn't grow when he lies. Sometimes he wonders if it ought to.]

Oh yeah. Some old fuckin' pervert'll pocket that shit. Like he won the goddamn lottery.

[Would Larry like that? Someone else taking Freddy's undies for their own personal pleasure. The kid doesn't care only because there's no DNA database here so the skivvies can't be used against them for any reason.]

Who made who suck on who's feet?

[Wrong there, old man. No one made anyone do anything. Not really. That's not how they operate at all. Larry pretends to be indignant at the very suggestion. Freddy has to know it's the opposite. He's damn proud of himself and how this went down because he has a taste for weird and dirty.]

If a dumb ass finds a quarter in the street and he thinks he's rich, let him keep it. That fuckin' pervert has no clue.

[Paw strokes down Freddy's chest a little over to his shoulder he can rub at another scar that was earned.]

No one made anyone do anything.

[The kid states the obvious with as much slyness, it was a good try though, Lawrence Dimick. These fingers are combing through Larry's hair now.] Okay. He can keep'em.

[So he can't imagine a woman wanting to keep his briefs but that older lady down the hall isn't out of the running. The less Freddy knows the better, right? Unless it would be of Larry's interest. Anyway. That rubbing to his own scar gets a softer expression even though Orange only sub-consciously acknowledges its presence.]

Is our time up? Don't wanna have to pay for another hour over a couple minutes. And I wanna rub you down in the shower. [He says this with a kiss to the crook of the old man's neck.]

Maybe not this time.

[He's got to get in some kind of an edge. Though Larry knows he's wrong, wrong, wrong. All parties are giving full consent.]

Those briefs are probably the most action he'll get for a long, long, long time. Consider it charity even.

[Or she. Huh. That's one to think about sometime. Not now though. The ol' bear lets out one big, long sigh.]

Just about. [That kiss at his neck makes him want to hold Freddy's face there.] You get your clothes. I'll start with the pictures. And then uh when you're done you take over. [Somethin' like that.]

A rubdown sounds real nice about now. Though I don't think you'll get me clean.

Let's sort'em out at home. Don't worry about my roommate he won't know what's going on in these.

[Now he may be talking about the fruit-eating roomie and not just the fruity one. Freddy's already moving out from under Larry, despite not wanting to leave that heavy weight, to get his clothes on. Commando it is. The bandana he is definitely keeping too, stained as it is. He stuffs it into his pocket.]

I'll get you on a real bed and work on your back. How's that sound?

Put em in the suitcase. We can probably leave the rope. Someone'll appreciate it.

[Next time, if there is one, he'll bring a bag.]

One of these times I think he's gonna catch on. The way he looks, he's got some kind of a smart, knowing way to him. I dunno. I used to think it was rude.

[Scooping up the pictures now. Damn. Some of them are pretty great. Others a blur, abstract but that could be a nose or foot....something.]

Sounds like you wanna deliver me dreamland personally.

[And he can't fucking wait.]

[Freddy drapes the rope over the corner of the mattress opposite where his briefs are laying. Excellent scene, if he came in on a call and saw this he'd think someone got fucked real hard. Perfect.] Sure.

[He catches a flash of one of those pics and he thinks that foot might actually be a cock in motion with fingers around it. Who knows. Plus the lighting in here is great to get on film but not the best for looking at the results. Actually the kid just wants to be able to look at them without someone from the lobby looking in.]

Well people catch on when they live with me. [A moment of ego for the super cool kid. He gives Larry another smile, a couple more photos handed over to stuff in the case.] I think you deserve it, dreamlover. It was pretty fuckin' wild.

[Take subtle observation of the way Orange is walking, although part of it could be his balls against the denim.]

[No doubts there. The old man is getting his clothes on. Buttons done but the shirt isn't tucked into his pants. Tie is looped about his neck but not as pristine. Yep. Since they're going straight to the car and they are in a place like this, why hide it? He fucked.]

Anytime, baby. [Especially if he is Freddy's dream lover that he can see in his waking hours. How old was he when that song came out anyway?]

[Another smile as he gestures for Mr. White to get a move on first.] Thanks.

[The answer is not yet born. As they are now though, with a whole teenager between them, Lawrence Dimick looks like one handsome fuck and Freddy a cool casual kid who just got fucked. The look suits and Orange doesn't care either who puts two and two together. Who's gonna believe Lee Marvin plowed the shit out of Hal Jordan anyway?]

[The old man starts his day with a smoke at the kitchen table. He's already dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and a wifebeater that he knows is his own. Of course the kid is up.]

So. You got any ideas of what to do today? We got beer. I think there's some place that's got a grill out there worth buying from.

[Freddy doesn't even have one on to beat the heat. All he has is a lighter weight button down that's showing off an archaic looking map of the Hawaiian islands. Never say Freddy Newendyke can't be a little festive with his gear. Chances are he picked it up at the same place Larry got his shirt. The kid's got jeans on to top it all off and they're slung low, showing a sliver of skin across a fair bare belly. He's smoking with one hand while holding a piece of papaya out for a toucan with the other.]

I didn't know you're an independence day kind of guy.

[He's a good looking all American glass of water in that get up. Well, ain't much of a get up when it's everyday Freddy wear.]

I'm an American, ain't I?

[Larry leans back in his chair.]

We could hit the sand and surf and launch fireworks. We used to do that out on the lake.

Sure. Why not.

[Fireworks make this kid's green eyes light up a little. It's the closest Freddy will ever get to being bomb squad. He breaks the papaya pieces up for Sam to eat with ease.]

Who's we?

[He's not prying, just curious, curious about anything to do with Larry's life prior to meeting a new kid at Smokey Pete's.]

We should hit the roads soon and see what they got on the street.

[Assuming already that fireworks are illegal.]

Bama, me and whatever friends we had at the time. The lake always changes.

[Because they were traveling types, outlaws on the road. This air conditioned apartment in a nameless City is pretty luxurious in comparison to some Winnebago they stumble upon to exploit to rough it.]

How many lakes?

[How many summers? He catches her name and in his own mind he couches the woman in a cradle of nostalgia when it comes to Lawrence Dimick. How does his life with her differ from his life with Freddy? Is one better than the other? Newendyke, that's an unfair question to wonder.]

Christie or the car?

[On one hand the former feels a little more wild with the wind whipping at them. On the other hand the latter probably fits more food, fireworks, and a toucan. Scratch the last one actually, Freddy doesn't want to risk the toucan getting worked up over fireworks. Nevermind how Sam's braved zombies and--in Pink's own words--ate some of the motherfuckers.]

Pyramid Lake, Prien Lake, uh.... I wanna say Lake Michigan. There's one more. Can't think of it right now.

[Four. There were four. Each of them are ticked off of his palm. He names them as though the interest is in what lakes and where.]

Let's take the car. Christie should get a joyride next time. Don't want our girl to feel left out.

[The only girl in on this to date.]

I dunno how big of a thing this is around here. [The holiday. Not that he care too much what everyone else says or does. It is kinda nice to be walking around though with so many people in an easy, fun loving kind of a mood. It's like Thanksgiving barbecue style everywhere.

From where he sits he watches the bird eat those carefully selected bits of papaya. If he wanted fingers they'd be in his belly and the last meal he'd ever eat. Pink might be on drugs.]

All those lakes but not a beach? [With her? On 4th of July? To watch fireworks on the water? It's kind of the same thing although maybe the horizon on a lake feels more cozy than the endlessness of the sea.]

Okay. Sorry buddy you're staying home, you'll thank me later.

[A nudge to that big old bill. E-ee-e-e-ee-e-e. To placate the toucan he'll be going to the fridge to get a big old batch of grapes.] Any excuse for a summer party. If no one's making a big deal out of it you and I can.

log post II

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