[He shakes his head, though this doesn't mean Freddy's not fast too. He's practically at eye level with the front of the man's trousers. Green eyes draw a gaze upward from there, traveling over his hard muscled body, noting the tattoo, the scars. That one's definitely a bulletwound. Orange would know.]
Let me do it.
[The kid insists now as his fingers reach up to work open that button, that fly. It's not the brandy that's for sure.]
no subject
[He shakes his head, though this doesn't mean Freddy's not fast too. He's practically at eye level with the front of the man's trousers. Green eyes draw a gaze upward from there, traveling over his hard muscled body, noting the tattoo, the scars. That one's definitely a bulletwound. Orange would know.]
Let me do it.
[The kid insists now as his fingers reach up to work open that button, that fly. It's not the brandy that's for sure.]