orangetoughguy | log post II

[He tries so hard to be good for a fucking criminal. Though if he had it his way he'd blow away anyone who stood in the way. Vampire, cops or nose sons of bitches, whatever it takes to keep the kid safe and sterling. What does it matter what depths he sinks to in the end? Larry isn't trying to be a martyr but shit, he'd do anything for this man.]

Freddy. [It's not a warning yet, but his voice is tight and urgent. His chest is rising and falling with each pant. Now he can't stop his hips from moving with his mouth.]

[No words this time but there's an unmistakable sound of his mouth accommodating the pushing motion. He's not going to take it off that dick, not now. The heel of his palm puts pressure on his heavy balls, kneading them like doing so might coax him to come sooner. Freddy wants to the ability to say he'd do anything for Larry, but he knows that's not the case. On the other hand the old man wouldn't want him that way would he? They saw what a mess he made when he forgot he was a cop. In that form he was willing to do anything for Lawrence Dimick, Mr. White, under the assumption what Freddy wanted was what Larry wanted too.]

[What Larry wants is for Freddy to never change from what he is, from who he is. That was one of the many disturbing things about what he was like, not remembering that he's a cop. That he's not scum. It was dangerous, foolhardy and just not the whole picture he'd come to appreciate and see.

Larry moves, careful as he can manage this desperate, panting and grunting. His hands clench and release his hair a little like a pleased feline.]

Tough guy, I'm gonna blow.

[Freddy can probably taste it on the backward slide through from his throat. Fuck...can he fit that far? The pressure at his balls, that feel tight and snug under his hand.]

[Mouth too occupied for anything else this kid just nods once, twice, movements indistinguishable from his head bobbing up and down on that cock. He can taste Larry enough to mix saliva with precum, making his shaft even slicker. Freddy can't say the words but it's so obvious from his movements, he wants this old man to blow.

Bare chest to the floor, nestled between Larry's hard legs covered in wiry hairs, he's never felt more like he belonged anywhere else.]

[Not moving away tells him so much. Those legs on either side of him compress more to hold him some other way.]

Freddy. [This time it's not a warning, it's begging.] That fucking mouth of yours. Fucking...Freddy.

[And there he goes. For a moment Larry feels like he knocked a hole in the floor the way his head falls back and his eyes roll shut. Each wave that breaks over him has his whole body shaking. If those paws are holding too tight, causing any pain, he doesn't mean it.]

[Freddy only feels the sting of his hair being pulled but it helps to keep him in place just right to feel that hot burst in his mouth without choking on it. That wouldn't be pretty at all, not that he doubts Larry would respond right away. Knees on the kid and his hands on the old man he's not going anywhere and neither is a single drop of his load, save for whatever slips past his lips when he brings them up to the tip. Freddy licks down the center groove slowly once he's sure Larry won't buck anymore...this is after he swallows a little bit of him of course.]

Yeah, Larry?

[He has the audacity to ask while his stroking hand slows its pace.]

[If he felt he was chocking at all, Freddy can bet on his own life Larry'd be moving in a heartbeat. Even the rapid hard heartbeats that follow one after the other. Without any coaxing, he's given up all he's got right down into Freddy's throat. He hardly realizes that his eyes have been closed long.]

Get the fuck up here.

[Damn if he could have a second go. The grip of the kid's hand, it feels excellent, firm.

Though really, the star is that mouth.]

Okay.

[Freddy can't lie, he loves giving Larry not just the pleasure of his mouth but also the pleasure of an answer as simple as that, like the bear's got full authority on this loyal dog. It's sort of the case and it's sort of not, carrying with it a brief fantasy in which he doesn't have to hold himself accountable for anything else except this old man's happiness. Things aren't that easy and they'll never be that easy, just the way it should be, but a little respite between his legs? Fucking worth it.]

What do you want?

[He asks after relinquishing his dick to crawl up along that torso, back to being face to face with a man who ought to be a badge's lovely foe.]

[A gulp of breath before he's covering his face with presses of his lips. It's not worship, but fuck, what else can it be. This loyal dog has a man who loves him so. Mr. White is a bad influence. He can't be solely responsible, yet not innocent.]

Smug son of a bitch.

[He finally settles to pulverize his mouth, tasting for any drop of salty come. He swallowed.]

I wanna watch your face as you come.

[As he says this he's going for his pants.]

[Let it be know Freddy is not unprepared for the attack on his face, his mouth, everything those hard lips can manage. He purses his own whenever theirs come into contact, tasting Chesterfields, liquor, and that unique flavor only Larry has. His tongue still wet with semen slips into Mr. White's eager to taste the entire clash of flavors. Oh, and then there's that command.]

You're gonna have to make me.

[He dares Lawrence Dimick with narrowed green eyes. Freddy hardly interferes with the way those paws go for his pants. He's hard too.]

[Button, fly, and a fabric ah, there he goes now. Large fingers wrap around him. They move up and down Freddy's length with more certainty as he welcomes the man's tongue. That clash is complimenting as it is mismatched. What about them isn't though? Pulling back, he sighs with feigned exasperation.]

Have it your way then. Since you won't yourself.

[The old man doesn't want it any other way. On top of him, on the floor close to that face. Naturally his fist tightens.]

Oh fuck.

[That puts the burden on Freddy to stay on his hands and knees doesn't it? Well, forearms and knees now. His face contorts in expected fashion, stimulated with no end in sight, well at least not so soon. He breathes close to Larry's cheek as his hips pivot forward like he can just fuck that fist however he pleases.]

Kinda isn't it.

[Now it's his turn for cheek.]

I mean, you got your dick in my hand.

[In case that was forgotten by anyone at all. Here though, he move faster.]

Lay on your side.

[And he's not gonna stop. Just means he'll have to handle with more care.]

[Green eyes narrow again for that cheek. Fff. But he's too far invested in thrusting into those fingers to fight fire with fire. Dick in his hand and all. When Freddy does try to get a word in all that comes out is a hitched groan for that sudden increase in speed.]

O--kay.

[Breathe, Newendyke. Be careful too, Dimick. He slowly slowly...rolls onto his side. No need for an accident.]

[Larry turns onto his side too, better to face the guy, and encourage more movement if that's what he wants.]

Better?

[He asks nipping at his chin and moving to his throat.]

Oh yeah.

[The kid grunts then gasps as his leg twists with Larry's, providing an anchor of sorts as well as leverage to keep fucking away in his big paw.]

Like a roll...in the bed of a pick up truck.

[Don't ask why that image comes to mind, it just does. If he were sixteen and this handsome fucker came by with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, yeah, Freddy'd let him have it.]

That pick up be in some driveway?

[It's not in his pocket. Larry uses both paws now, both stroking in separate directions leaving a thumb to rub over the top.]

Or how about outside, under the stars? Summertime'll be here before we know it.

[Larry pulls his head up, watching for any change of expression. Though it strikes him that this is something like the position they had with the kid on the ramp, bleeding. Brown eyes blink it away.]

The shocks would give more bounce.

I like the idea. [Grunt.] Of being outside. [Huff.]

Somewhere no one's gonna find us...cause they're right next door but they got no reason to come out lookin'.

[The kid swallows, writhing from those separate movements that go so damn well together. He's thinking beer cans and cigarette butts in the flatbed, loud noise from the nearest establishment designated as their rendezvous. People could come out any moment and catch them, but they won't cause nobody ever comes out back to this area. As for the shock, well...]

Depends on your suspension. [Car talk? While getting handled? Surely that's like an added treat.]

It's gotta happen then.

[Christ, he's a good looking motherfucker.]

We gotta scope out the right car and place. Even with the right suspension that's not the only noise we need to worry about keepin' down, huh?

[Oh yeah. If it's gonna be near nightfall there will be crickets and a few birds. The muted hubbub of people close but far away to add to the experience.]

Hard to keep it down, don't you think?

[To prove a point, both of Larry's hands move in the same direction hard.]

You wanna borrow a truck?

[Freddy rushes the words under a deep sigh because fuck yes it's hard, too hard to keep down. His hips keep moving in that same way and now it's his own hands curling into Larry's hair, stroking, squeezing, touching. They'd have to borrow one or buy one. Mostly though, for Freddy, it's something he'd like to experience in Los Angeles or even in Fresno or hell Milwaukee. A good harmless memory in their own world, like getting those tacos. Which isn't to say what they have here is second rate, not at all, but a kid can dream for that ultimate rock and roll fantasy can't he? No harm in that either.]

I'm gonna come. Fuck.

[He squeezes his eyes near shut before guiding his mouth to Larry's jaw. Oh wait the old man wanted to see his face right? Freddy leans back, cheeks flush and floppy hair swaying as his dick starts to leak out the very beginnings of his orgasm.]

For starters. If we like it, we can keep it. Shouldn't own a car without a test drive, you know.

[Watching him move, fuck his hands and paw him...the whole package makes Larry breathe heavy too.]

Come away, hotshot.

[Just like he would if they were in a pickup about anywhere. They'll have memories there in their neck of the universe. Larry holds onto that hope with both hands.]

I'm watchin' you.

[He slicks the kid's lips with his saliva, there'll be a kiss at the end of it like he wants.]

You dream--real big--

[That's the best he can come up with knowing grand theft auto is really nothing doing for a guy like Lawrence Dimick. Shit just looking into his brown eyes he knows this man is a fucking felon and that's alright with Freddy Newendyke because he's Larry too. Larry who held his hand in the car and held him on that fucking ramp. Larry who wanted to fuck him when he saw the kid swaggering in his jacket.]

--Larry.

[He groans, spilling over into those hands that cradled him when he was fucking dying. His expression looks pained but that wave is brief, just a physical reaction to losing it on those thick fingers. How close this kind of gesture is to actually dying is a bit morbid but the French got it right, because just as he did on the ramp, his expression changes to heady affection.]

Goddamn...

Ain't no other way to dream.

[Lawrence Dimick had always been a big dreamer. Someday he was gonna be a ball player, astronaut, explorer and then he was gonna get a big house with a wife and a lotta kids. Then he was going to strike rich, live big and happy with...someone. Then he was going to live outside of the law like an old time cowboy looking to settle down someplace when the mood struck him. And then he met Mr. Orange. And big dreams were living through the day and making sure they got out alive. Now it feels like there's no ceiling, no matter how ridiculous it's alright to dream big.

After all, he gets to fuck that kid who can swagger like a pro in a leather jacket. And he's not writhing on death's door. The similarity between the way Freddy emotes to that fucking day and now doesn't slip Larry's attention, the transition is absolutely different though.]

Gimme all you got now. Don't cheat me.

[As though that were possible. Larry is on that mouth again, full force. His fists move more slowly but keep a move on.]

[Those are dreams he'd love to make come true somehow, even if they're substituted fantasies. He's curling inward now as he writhes, fingers tightening as the one in his hair moves to anchor onto Larry's shoulder. His breathing is reedy and thin, just like that fucking day, until there's nothing left in him and even then Freddy's thrusting. Slower, but still thrusting.]

Christ...

[That's muffled into the old man's mouth. Finally the kid's stilling, but that only pertains to his hips. Between their lips he's still moving, tongue licking out the insides. He leans back only briefly.] I think you got it all.

[The warm, wet substance all over Larry's fingers isn't blood. May there never be another day like that fucking day. He never wants to feel Freddy's blood on his skin again. This on the other hand, well, within the next few days if not tomorrow would be good. The kid is addicting.]

Yeah.

[He does have it all. Though brown eyes look down anyway. Two hands, one mess and zero regrets. He lifts them up and out of the way. Side by side and skin to skin. More mouth to mouth too with this lovely foe.]

Thanks, partner.

[Took the edge right off of things.]

log post II

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