orangetoughguy | log post II

Sure that's where I picture it but you can't tell a girl that before you see it on the floor. All in the timing, see?

[Slow walk to the bike, no rush.]

I'd tell her she looks good, ask her how she likes the place.

[Freddy's turn to sit bitch too, so, best ease into it. Only polite.]

Sounds like you didn't know a lot of easy girls in your time.

[A shrug, as if Freddy did, ahem. Taking his helmet he slips it on before climbing over the bitch seat like it's no thing, because it isn't. Something about building the bike with your bare hands and knowing ultimately she's yours makes riding bitch for the afternoon no big deal.]

No. [To put it simply. Larry fits his helmet on.] I knew some. There are benefits to treating them like ladies.

[Freddy one ups the old man in that way. To be honest he's looking forward to being held by those arms knowing that for a few more days everything will be the same as it has for a few months.]

I didn't say you don't have to treat'em like ladies. You know these days some of'em might get offended over it. She drops her skirt, you tell her she don't gotta, she tears you a new asshole for actin' like you said she can't be horny cause she's a woman.

[Not that Freddy knows this from experience either...not that many experiences anyway. Arms go around that thick torso now.]

Sounds like a man who's been around the block.

[Say, what kind of women has Freddy been involved with? He has wondered from time to time. Any that talk like that from a woman and all the time spells trouble.

Vroom, vroom says Christie Love. He gives Freddy's arm a pat.]

Enough to know which neighborhoods I oughta stick to.

[He replies over the sound of the engine. It's an offhand remark, something the kid thinks is a witty retort that just happens to be way close to the truth. Whether Freddy realizes it or not.]

[Nothing beats the cool sheets, Larry settles on his side and shuts his eyes. The bed feels mighty comfortable tonight. The mattress is more firm. He must be that tired. As his eyes are drifting shut a weight shifts in the bed, oh shit and those are hands.]

Fuck-! Hey!

[He fumbles a little too far to the edge of the bed and nearly falls off.]

Who are you? What's goin' on?

[Oh man, not again.]

You feel funny.

[Freddy remarks as he curls an arm around Larry only to have the other man pull away. Well it sounds like Larry but something's not right. Shit the kid dreads they might have tits again so on the lights go. For the record they're in Larry's room tonight, in Larry's bed, naked in Freddy's case. That is Lawrence Dimick on the other side but...but...]

What the fuck, Larry??

[Brown eyes squint as the lights go on then widen when he sees a naked man. He's not some wallflower virginal type to blush but embarrassment in plain on his face until he rubs a hand over his forehead and eyes.]

Who're you? What didja put in my drink? I didn't say anything about you takin' me home.

[Okay, he feels a little more together, the hand comes away. There is no wildcat clawing at him. Larry stands and steps out of bed, looking for clothes.]

........Larry? [Sorry, unlike that kid this kid doesn't quite have it all together just yet. No wildcat, no lines in his face, still got those warm brown eyes and a muscular frame though. What the hell.] It's me, Freddy. I didn't take you home, we--[Hold up.] You live here.

[Man what time is it? He looks at the clock oh great past midnight. That explains everything kinda, except not at all.]

[This kid with warm brown eyes has them narrowed, while he's not exactly in a decent state of dress he's crossing his arms regarding this person.]

I don't know no Freddy. And I know I don't live here.

[They look away to look around the room. Nice digs. He's momentarily distracted for a few more seconds before he attempts to find anything that looks like his clothes.]

Well, Freddy, you still haven't answered my questions.

You know me. [He pats a hand over his own chest. Would it be a good idea or bad idea to remind him Larry held his hand while he was bleeding to death? Probably a bad idea.]

I--[Freddy shakes his head.] I didn't do shit to you.

[They went to bed without getting busy in bed for once. Uh, right? Because the last thing the kid wants to explain to the other...kid...is why there's lube and a wet spot.] Look I live here too, we've been takin' care of each other for a little while. You smoke Chesterfields and take your coffee black.

[The pair of jeans that Larry grabs and is attempting to slip on are Freddy's.]

Yeah? Why should I believe you? I went out drinking. Obviously got drunk. I don't remember meeting you.

[His return is just as passionate. Trying to make an exit here. Thank god they didn't get down in here. That would be a blow to young Larry Dimick's mind. He pauses with Freddy's jeans--that are fitting pretty fucking tight--on his hips.]

So you saw me smokin' and drinking some coffee.

[Exact brand of smokes the coffee though...]

I don't drink coffee much...so you been followin' me?

[Not only are they tight on the hips they're a little uh....]

Those are mine. [He points at the jeans that are a tiny bit short on Lawrence Dimick. Sigh.] And you should believe me cause when you step outta here you're not gonna know shit about where you are and you're gonna wish you kept a line with good old Freddy cause I know what's what around here.

[Another sigh, he runs his fingers through floppy dirty blonde hair. Then comes an irreverent shrug.] I don't need to follow you, I know where you live, and I'm not talkin' Milwaukee.

No they're--[checks the brand, the fit woah] yours and you need to gimme mine so I can get the fuck out of here.

[Peeling those jeans off is about as easy as putting em on. He huffs in frustration.]

You're not making a lick of sense.

Real funny smart ass.

[He hands over Larry's jeans, probably fine in length but the waist, well...Freddy would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to seeing the difference. He's already put together that this is Larry...just from a different point in time. Which point though he's not sure. He definitely looks and sounds younger but there's something about his face, his demeanor...]

Look this isn't Milwaukee or Los Angeles or New York or anything like that. We're--[Don't tell him on another planet, Newendyke.] We're in the City.

[Also, he points at Larry.] You can't tell anyone you know my name, I won't tell anyone yours.

[Jeans grabbed without so much as a thank you, he pulls em on easily. There's at least four inches of slack.]

Now you're fucking with me. These aren't mine.

[Well fuck, off those go too. Sigh, he sits now and tries to focus on what the fuck this person is saying.]

What City and what are you talking about? [Larry rubs his face.] I'm gonna go home and pretend this never happened. Right? I mean....nothin' happened you said.

[Even though he's about in the buff he's asserting himself as much as he can with those brown eyes, an attempt at intimidation. This fella is well off by his digs and he don't look like much so maybe, just maybe Larry could take him.]

Man. Fuck. What time is it? Three am? Four? Busted my curfew again.

[Freddy's sitting on the bed now but still looking at Larry like what even.] Yeah, they are.

[Those four inches are equal parts muscle and meat though, this kid knows personally.] What're you gonna do, go around without pants? Even I'm not that ballsy. [Okay look he knows what'll calm them both down, a cigarette. Flick flick, Freddy's got two lit, one Chesterfield and one Marlboro.] Here.

[Puff puff.] It's just the city, that's its name. I know it's kinda weird but it ain't all that different from New York or anything, I mean by the looks of it. The people well that's a little... [He waves his hand.] Anyway nothing happened, kid. What's your curfew?

[His eyes light with the glimmer of the lighter. Without hesitation he takes it, cuz who heard of spiked cigarettes. He'll take a seat now to try and think over what to do.]

I'll figure it out.

[Second puff and he remembers something of his manners.]

Thanks.

[Third puff and exhale, he combs his fingers through his hair. Nothing happened. His memory is full of holes but he doesn't feel sore or stick so...that's good right? This guy Freddy, is he still naked? Larry's not trying to think about that.]

I was supposed to be in by 11. That was the agreement. I was gonna come in the back door.

Don't sweat it.

[He's not naked anymore after pulling his jeans on, but the kid's gonna stick to being shirtless for the time being. No tattoo on the other kid, but it still sounds just like Larry. Shit.]

By 11? That's kinda early, man. [He shrugs.] Well, your mom and pop won't find you here.

Says you.

[Know what? He'll take those jeans and grab a belt. He looks rather ridiculous but fuck that.]

They aren't my real parents. If I'm not back by midday tomorrow they'll call the cops or something.

[It's all said easy but there's a sharp downward turn of his mouth.]

So how did I get here?

Sorry. [For the parent thing, hell that's right Larry's mom is dead. His brow furrows.] The cops here won't do fuckin' shit about it.

[If that's any comfort to him. Aw shit, how did he get here...] We made friends and took a ride. Somewhere along the way shit got real crazy.

[That's no lie.] Look it's real late. I really don't think you wanna be out there at this hour, trust me.

Glad something is going my way. [Sigh again. He keeps sucking at that cigarette like it is going to help with the situation.]

More crazy than this? I'm sorry, none of that sounds familiar. I can't remember a thing.

[Seems alright enough. Larry knows he's got nothing to lose. The cash in his pocket isn't worth the effort it would take to kidnap him. And the Kline family doesn't have any assets worth leaching for ransom....that's the way it works in the movies.]

I'll stay then.

[Larry nods, he falls silent awhile processing everything coming to the same blanks in his memory. Instead he tries to piece back what they've said and what he woke up to.]

We were sleepin' together?

I'd get nothing out of turning you in. [He adds as a mark of humor, kinda, maybe ill-timed humor. Ahem anyway.] Yeah, we're cool now though. I mean everything's cooled down.

[Freddy corrects himself and nods. It's still weird playing the adult to Lawrence Dimick, Mr. White, of all people. It's almost like he's working vice or SVU.] Don't be sorry. [Yeah, about that...] Uh huh. We didn't do anything and we don't gotta if you don't want to. I ain't gonna tell anyone.

[Even odder, a Lawrence Dimick who isn't ready to jump his bones. He's a fuckin' kid.]

...Okay. Then. That's as good as bad is gonna be right now.

[Mmmm Chesterfields are good smokes. This one is gone, he's looking for a place to snuff out the butt. Oh. There's an ashtray right there. As he's doing that he tries to take a look at this man without trying to give him the wrong idea.

Wrong idea? Good one Dimick. He knows what you're about. At least he's not threatening you within an inch of your life to keep it down. So. Can't be all that bad, right?]

We'll see. Only when I say so and it isn't because I'm some creampuff, okay? I like women. I just do what I want. [Who is he trying to convince here?]

log post II

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