orangetoughguy | log post II

[He briefly thinks about what it would be like to have a clone. Would he still be able to take not one but two versions of the kid on? Pride affirms that he could. Nicotine stains add a twinge of flavor to the old man's tongue as he sticks it between Freddy's pointer and middle fingers. About time they part or else. Larry gives a nod.]

Nmmmm.

[Now that his body goes back into place he can privately marvel at how Mr. Orange went right at it. All that is in the old man now are those fingers that he slowly let slip out.]

Filled me right up.

[As though he is the car. The coup may be drying about now.]

[Two Freddy Newendykes could be too much for this world or any world, one too many Oranges piping up for comics and eating cans of spaghettios. More than likely a clone of him could never get as much work done as a clone of Lawrence Dimick. Just for this purpose though, well, there would be double the creativity. That's for sure.]

That's what you're good for.

[Freddy dares to say as he takes his fingers back only to pull his jeans up (without fastening them) then fish out a cigarette. Yeah he's playing up that role, the rough trade hustler. It's okay because Mr. White knows better, doesn't he? Freddy fucking adores him.]

[Two Newendykes would break an old mans back. Or he would trying to handle the double dose. Things are as they are for a reason. While his back isn't broken there's a distinct feeling of strain. Nothing serious. Only a firm reminder of what it's like to have someone go to town on you.]

Can't let it go to waste now, can you?

[As its happening, sometimes that's what he feels like. And that ain't bad. Larry pulls his own jeans back up. He'll peel away any remainder of tape from his wrists drinking in the kid standing before him, pants open and cigarette danging from his mouth. Two steps and he's there to fasten him back into place. Since he's there he'll kiss at his throat and let him try to be indifferent.]

Hey maybe I'll knock you up.

[Freddy quips with the freshly lit cigarette dangling. Now they're even. Kind of. Larry sort of has a huge headstart on him when it comes to that but hey maybe Freddy's the kind of guy who's seldom but very concentrated. He exhales through his nose as the old man takes care of himself. Drinking in that sight too, two can play at that game--oh. Green eyes drop down to the fastening only to look up as Larry takes over his throat. Damn.

Cigarette pinched aside he gestures for him to claim his mouth instead. Trying to be indifferent with Lawrence Dimick is an uphill battle.]

Is that what you want?

[A laugh rumbles in his chest before he latches his mouth on what bits of skin can be found by pulling his collar this way and that. The second hand Marlboro smoke has become one of his favorite smells. Oh and taste too. His tongue isn't as lazy as the rest of him as it wanders into Freddy's. Slowly easing the zipper up because any other round should be later tonight. Backward he moves slowly now this time to pull out his comb to fix up Freddy that way.]

Want a piece of yourself in me for a few months? That's no nice walk in the park. Maybe we should start wrapping up. Can't keep tempting fate.

Mmm...

[Tongue in mouth, grazing teeth, and tasting a mix of Marlboro and Chesterfield? How could he be indifferent to it. The kid purses his lips, briefly turning a deep hungry kiss into a smaller affectionate one. No need to get roused again, save that for tonight...as long as Sam keeps his beak shut. He tilts his head appropriately for that comb. Something about that gesture is gravely morbid in its memory and greatly intimate because of it.]

No fuckin' way. [About wrapping up. Fff. He hooks Larry by a belt loop.] Your load's all mine all the time.

[Puff. Have a smoke ring.]

[Heavy and deep or light and sweet, Larry will take his kisses any way at all. Noisy bird or not the kid earned himself a real treat later tonight. Later being the key word. His comb strokes are purposeful, sectioning the hair naturally with his part.]

All hot up inside you after you work so hard for it?

[Looped he eases even closer. Even though they're both bullshitting it's a delicious thing to hear and it's very true.]

Uh huh. [Freddy nods against Larry, against another kiss. Wait, break for a pull on his cigarette.] I love it. I love you.

[So much for being a rough trade hustler.]

[That comb is now in the old man's hair. He looks pretty together in the mirror, it's the only other witness. There are those words again. Each time he hears them they sound better and better. It's so fucking true.]

In that case you can keep it.

[Comb tucked away he holds aside Freddy's cig to take a puff himself.]

I want my baby happy. [Kiss then the cigarette is back where it belongs.] I love you, tough guy. [Cop, rough trade hustler and so much more that Freddy Newendyke is.] We better get a move on.

[How Lawrence Dimick can bend over and take it like a champ and still make Freddy feel like he's the one who got right up well-fucked is a mystery. Maybe it's the way he combs his hair and steals a drag from his own cigarette; supercool.]

I am happy.

[True words said after a kiss. Oh hey that's right though they're still in a carwash commode. How romantic is that. Freddy doublechecks to make sure they've left nothing behind before gesturing Larry to go first.]

[Well fucked is well fucked no matter how it comes no pun intended. The words the touching it all is coming so fucking ease. He feels so happy. Keep yourself a little in check, Dimick because they'll have to emerge sometime.]

That's all I give a fuck about.

[The old man smiles and turns the knob. The lock bounces out and there is the hallway and the phones. No line to the can hopefully.]

[Freddy's reading something or other on the network because looking busy is the best way to look like nothing's happened at all. Whatever was keeping the diamonds they have has been repaired to the best of his ability, made to look like no toucan had ever been there. The toucan himself is hanging out in the kitchen because he can. Nope nothing doing in this household. Nothing doing at all.]

[The bird gets noisy because the door is rattling. It's about that time of night a little later actually. Larry manages to come on in with the Chinese takeout.]

Ding-dong.

[As if no one is listening in.]

I'm home.

[Into the kitchen he goes with the bag. Oh. And there's the bird. He sets the bags far away from that big ol' beak. Rustle, rustle of the bags before heading to the closet. Yep. That's where the diamonds are kept. Coat removed the door shuts. Back to fussing with the food and...oh fuck what is Sam---]

[Tok tok? Hop hop perch, peer. Oh it's just that other guy who lives here. Sam flutters because Larry's not the type to make excessive room for him, fff, fortunately their kitchen's big enough.]

You bought dinner? Cool.

[Everything's just supercool and superfine man. Freddy looks over just to make sure--fuck noooooo. Oh whew, coast is clear. The split second dread is already gone from the kid's face and just when he's about to relax again there's a single plink of Sam not caring to use the bird pan. Can anyone blame him? Dropping a diamond isn't pleasant.]

[Gosh bird. Mind your space. Sheesh.]

Yeah. Figured I'd pick up somethin' on the way. I'about starved.

[Huff of an old man sighing in frustration. Not to complain or anything but for fuck sake, seems like every time the fucking bird is holding it waiting for him. He grabs a paper towel, ready to clean it up.]

Holy shit. Freddy!

He's supposed to use the pan.

[The fact of the matter is the bird tends to use it only when Larry's not around. Anyway. Now the kid's getting up from his seat.]

What? What is it?

[Flap flap flap. Sam hops away from the scene of the crime to preen.]

[Larry holds the paper towel just so. No not right in his face but up at an angle to examine.]

You wouldn't believe it.

[The rest of the mess is soaked up. No problem but whatevers in the old mans hand is worth looking over.]

Look at it and tell me I'm not seein' things.

[The flimsy tissue is right before that stately Newendyke nose.]

........

[Freddy stares at the paper towel with a look on his face, the kind that says "Yes I know what bird shit looks like." But then something catches his eye, that shine, a piece of pure ice. No. ...He didn't. ...He did.

Whatchu gonna do now, Newendyke? Green eyes glance over to the toucan who in preening shifts from a brown and yellow bill to a warm orange one.]

Did he just shit a diamond?

Yes!

[Look at this grown man's face. Right here it's Christmas and his birthday and holy fuck man. Larry carefully pulls it away to shine it against the counter top.]

That's--it's crazy. [Shaking his salt and peppery head he's still grinning.] Must be some kind of a curse or something. He didn't do this while I was out right?

[The old man throws a glance at his watch. Nope, not quite midnight.]

How in the fuck?

[Shit look at that grown man's face, it's like it's Christmas or his birthday which is coming up soon isn't it? Oh Newendyke, what have you done? What has the toucan done? Freddy gives Sam a look before turning his focus back to Larry. Hop hop flutter. The bird lands on Freddy's arm to see what's going on.]

Nope he definitely did not.

[The kid says with a pat to the bird's head. You're really in for it now, both of them actually. E-e-e-ee-e-ee-e. The bird croaks cheerfully.] Maybe it's just a one time thing, I mean he's probably not even from Earth or whatever so anything can happen, but I doubt he's gonna shit gold too. He hasn't done it before and the only different food he's been eating's papaya. I gave it to him this morning.

[That's right Newendyke, downplay it only to give Lawrence Dimick a reason to rationalize the diamond; a change in diet.]

Fuck, you know what this means? We got a diamond mine. The toucan that lays diamonds.

[Now he's laughing. The absurdity of it all. Then again, it changes colors don't it? Who says it can't do anything else.]

Are you sure? I mean, you clean it's cage. You'd have seen something in there. We could be throwing out rubies or hell even cubic zirconia there's a market for that too.

[Larry looks at the toucan now, so rarely does he keep eye contact so long it's usually the other way around.]

Does he want more papaya?

[This is getting bigger than he wants, but what did you really expect Newendyke??]

I'm pretty sure, Larry. [About the cage cleaning. But hey if Sam doesn't do it again (which he won't as far as Freddy's concerned) then where's the harm right? He thinks about it another moment before offering a harmless suggestion. Yep totally harmless.] ...Maybe if we feed him cherries he'll drop a ruby.

[Though, the purple grapes haven't produced any amethysts. Hm. The bird gives Larry a look for that question, like Sam just knows the word papaya. Flutter hop. Now he's on the bear's broader perch. E-ee-ee-e-e-e. Yes please.]

More papaya comin' up.

[The mysterious diamond comes to rest on the cutting board away from the Chinese food (which is forgotten for now) and far away from the sink. Larry cuts the papaya in his hand and hands a piece to the bird perched on him. Aren't they the best of friends now?]

We could try that. See what happens.

[Still grinning he looks at the kid.]

What are the fuckin' chances?

.......

[Why would Freddy want to wreck something so beautiful? Just look at them. The toucan nips the piece out of that paw gently before doing the toss back where he swallows the piece whole. That would explain how a piece of fruit can digest into a whole diamond, right? He gives a mental sigh.]

I doubt Sam's gonna mind, huh dude?

[E-ee-e-e-ee-e. Yep. What are the chances? How can he fucking know anymore? The kid goes to the other side of the counter where he can get dinner ready.]

Maybe it's like a special thing it does every once and a while.

[Slicing up another bit while Sam is chewing. Say, he's not so bad. Loud sure but he's a bird. They do that. How many birds shit diamonds? Not very many.]

Or maybe they're special papayas?

[Brainstorming a little more because it just doesn't happen.]

Anyway, fellas gonna have a buffet.

[His own stomach growls. Oh yeah. They got dinner waiting. Larry shakes his head, still caught up in the miraculous and ridiculousness of it all.]

This fuckin' City.

log post II

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