Makes for fucking perfect. [Now it's his turn to tilt his head this way and that to give his mouth free reign. Mr. Orange was fucking his hand thinking of him before the heist. Larry had his green eyed hooker, and here we are. Still blows his mind.]
License or no license. You know what you're doing.
[Fuck if he could go hard again sooner... ]
You still got one more gun to go.
[Larry's shirt can do the cleaning. Their apartment is always warm enough to be comfortable in various states of undress.]
[Oh yeah and fuck his own hand desperately he did to the very thought of Mr. White...among others, but mostly Mr. White and nowadays only Lawrence Dimick. They've come pretty far to land in this nice home with nice ladies hanging on the wall like their dicks are hanging out while there are handguns on the table. Next to a bucket of chicken. It's almost criminal.]
Right back to business huh? Alright alright.
[That's right the least Larry can do is loan him that shirt. Wiping up doesn't take much but Freddy grabs a couple tissues just to make sure the job gets done. He tosses the wad into the nearest can from his seat. Slamdunk. That he starts working on the second gun with his pants still undone is just for Larry's benefit, he's the only one who gets them.]
[There's an opportunity to mention stopping on skates but it's not that good of a joke. Though in every other way, Larry knows that the kid is dead on. Fast at learning how to mimic a criminal, fast at becoming a pro at fucking... Not so kid like at all.]
Hey, no lip. I might have something nice for you for doin' that for me.
[Criminal life style? Maybe. Mr. White wouldn't want to live any other way if he had the choice. Cleaning gives him more opportunity to touch over his dick hanging out. Makes the whole gun cleaning process even more enjoyable than before.]
How would I know, why should I care, please don't bother tryin' to find her;
[Saya steps into the garage, bundled up, a little later than she usually is, bags and boxes in her hands. She looks like she just came from a shopping trip, and her cheeks are pinker than usual]
Hello? I know I'm late, are you here?
How would I know, why should I care, please don't bother tryin' to find her;
[Fsssssttttsssssss. That's the sound of someone using some kind of machine to take the bolts off a wheel so he can remove the tire. He catches Saya's voice at the tail end of the process. Up goes a floppy haired head before Freddy gets to his feet.]
I'm here.
[Where the hell that scrawny kid is Freddy doesn't know.]
Need help? [Regardless of the answer he's already wiping his hands off in case she needs them.]
How would I know, why should I care, please don't bother tryin' to find her;
[That's all, he says like it's no thing cause to a grease monkey it really isn't. So Freddy takes one of those fancy looking bags. He's careful not to bump it (too much) against any of the stained surroundings.]
How would I know, why should I care, please don't bother tryin' to find her;
[Once her coat is off and hung up, she shifts her weight quickly, her heels clicking on the cement of the Garage - it's just a habit that she has, before she takes one of the bags from Freddy and takes it over to a nearby worktable to set it down]
You know where the hospital is, yes? Do you know Doctor Robert Chase?
How would I know, why should I care, please don't bother tryin' to find her;
[When you already take the guy out for joyrides in the sports car. You try seducing Larry but you don't make a single pass at me. You know, that kind of stuff. Surely by now Saya can appreciate Freddy's candidness?]
How would I know, why should I care, please don't bother tryin' to find her;
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