orangetoughguy | log post II

[This is a lot harder than it looks on the backing card. Freddy quirks a brow and attempts the same step three different ways. Oh wait. He looks at Larry again.]

Did you wanna keep one?

Me?

[Come between the kid, the Human Torch and the rest?]

Nah. They're all for you.

[To take his mind off of the bullshit.]

Yeah you. [Tinker tinker tinker. Again he looks up, this time more expectant.]

Are you sure? [Last chance, Dimick.]

I kinda get the feeling it'd be more appreciated in your hands, pal.

[Larry knows he would be, besides. They're just some plastic. ...right?

Sip, sip.]

Well, okay.

[I agree. The kid gives another smile as he goes back to tinkering. Sipping. Tinkering. Now he's looking seriously concentrated on the Hulk, trying to put his huge tank barrel down...yep. This piece goes up. This piece goes down. Who knows how long it's taking Freddy, but eventually he speaks up again.]

I think I got it...! [Hear the enthusiasm.]

[In the mean time, the old man finds the clicker and gets more comfortable on the couch. Freddy's got his attention, don't you worry because the Andy Griffith show is on. Right now is all about fucking off.]

Oh yeah?

[Well hey now, he wouldn't guessed it fit together like that.]

[Freddy makes the mechanoid Hulk walk forward, big bulging arms...bulging about.]

This is so fucking awesome, who the hell came up with this idea anyway? [Jack Kirby? Stan Lee? No probably some corporate merchandising honcho but it's still badass.] The guy deserves some fuckin' world peace prize.

[Actually maybe you want to call it the Nobel Prize. Oh shit was that a giggle the kid just made?]

[Pretty fucking big, then again that's how the Hulk is.]

Somebody who knew their market I figure.

[Look at the effects! This is not the face of a man who could have had to deal with a fucker that set a cop on fire. That man is still in there, no doubt. Just sleepin'.]

I'm sure all the money he's made is a good enough condolence for being passed up.

[Getting a prize that big for a toy?]

[Oh well in that case...]

How much were they?

[This question is going somewhere, honestly, and nowhere bad.]

A green I think.

[Whatever that means. Though he still tries to think of it in dollars. It's a hard habit to break.]

It don't matter. [He hopes. Larry leans forward to put his beer down.]

[A green...a green...a green. Freddy does the math necessary to translate that cost into dollars which as far as he knows comes to something just right, maybe even downright criminal for such masterpieces.]

I gotta get some more.

[Says the kid who hasn't even opened up the other two. He gets up on his feet as if he might go out right this very second, except he's going over to the other man first because he's put the beer down. That means the beer's out of the way. That means Freddy can kneel right over Larry's lap.]

You smooth bastard.

[Let it be know that Larry keeps a few bills carefully folded in his wallet.]

I think there were three or four others.

[There were many other cool figures that almost made the cut. No doubt Freddy will find them. Brown eyes follow him, and yeah, with his enthusiasm it's believable that he'd set out for more right now. When he settles though, it's not only a relief but something worth being enthusiastic about.]

Knew you'd like em.

[Paws go right on him.]

You know me pretty well.

[Says the kid, neither surprised nor too factual. It's a statement confirmed by time and observation, evoked by the paws on him. Larry knows Freddy pretty goddamn well by now, enough to be aware even though he's all smiles and sly green eyes at the moment underneath is a man who draws a serious line at burning people alive.

In the meantime his own paws go for the old man's hair, fingers running through brown and silver, mostly brown.]

There any way I can thank you?

Well, I should after this long. [Paws go up his sides then down to lightly pull at his shirt, not off but enough to let him feel skin if he wants to. The kid must know the old man well enough to get the idea that it might be about now.]

There are plenty of ways.

Feels like a really long time.

[He notes almost offhand because those paws on his sides are doing wonders for warming his skin. Freddy brings one of his own hands away from Larry's hair to guide those thick fingers under his own shirt. He's got an idea, but...]

Can I get a hint?

[Is it counterproductive to want to repay a man by first making him work for it?]

That bad huh?

[Joking of course. The old man leans up to be closer to the kid's face. With a hand up under his shirt, Larry rubs the rough pads of his fingers over his ribcage.]

Involves not wearin' so much.

[Both of them have active imaginations. None of it is counter productive so far.]

I think you'll wanna go back down by the beach if you're lookin' for that all over [He waves a hand all over Larry's face.] California tan. The roof ain't so nice.

[As if that's what Larry wants. Not that Freddy doesn't already know, it's just a matter of sportsmanship first. See, he's already giving the old man a free one by turning his waving hand into a clutch at his chin for a hard kiss.]

Who says? I haven't tried the roof. Have you? Nice few up--[He doesn't finish because he's happily, willingly pulled into that hard kiss. The old man hits back just as hard. The hand up under Freddy's shirt roughly rubs over and rolls the first nipple he touches between his fingers.]

Tape too.

[Bound and ready for anything is what he means except now that they're kissing, he's not ready to stop. This is what they got for bleeding, for suffering. Blonde can't touch it. And if he even tried, that's a death sentence in Larry's book.]

[His breath hitches in the middle of that kiss for the touch to his chest. It's got Freddy arching further into Larry's hand, wanting every pinch and pull.]

Your--[Breathe.]--call. Baby.

[Aw hell he's getting so damn hard already, it's gonna take some effort to get the roll.]

[Larry can hear and feel the change of his breathing. He better the way his tongue is in the kid's mouth. Both hands go at it now. Pulling back is hard to do with the way Freddy's arching forward.]

Go [tongue traces his bottom lip] get it.

[Who is treating and thanking who again? Everyone wins anyway.]

[This man has a way of taking charge whether it's over tape or tacos, goddamn. He's gonna have to stop those hands despite the fact that playing with his nipples has the kid bearing a lead pipe under his jeans. He almost hits the corner of the table on his way too but his fetching is successful and when Freddy comes back with the tape it's with the roll resting carefully between his teeth. He stands just like this in front of Larry to peel his own shirt off which he tosses onto the floor.

What next?

He can't talk, see. Tape in mouth.]

[It's all automatic like lethal arms, all of it comes naturally. The fact that Freddy is so receptive, it's perfect. From heist tips to tape. He couldn't ask for more.]

Good man.

[Shit it makes his mouth water looking at this man standing expectant and willing. The better to pull him closer. Larry reaches out to feel over Freddy's stomach still sitting on the couch.]

Hand it over.

[Because he's not gonna reach for it. Though he presses his mouth to the gunshot scar.

[This time the touching and feeling and squeezing doesn't cause too sharp a sound because Freddy sees it coming. Lips pressed over his scar still stimulate him a little differently from other places but it isn't a bad feeling, because Larry has one two. Hell the kid's got two thanks to the last bullet in his shoulder. Who knew he'd get so many trophy scars after less than a decade on the force.

Oh yeah and here's your tape, Lawrence Dimick. He hands it over as told. Sorry it's got a little saliva on it now. Freddy didn't bring any scissors over but one can always count on the Swiss savior in his back pocket.]

You gonna eat me up?

[Freddy Newendyke has been shot enough for this decade. Add it to the growing list of reasons why Blonde's presence in the City and any antics that follow would be tolerated.]

I just might. I'm pretty hungry.

[And he'll even lick his lips for the other man to see.]

Hands now.

[Never mind the teeth marks or saliva on the tape. It rolls out between the old man's fingers just the same. Worst case scenario, without tape he'll use his teeth. How about that, kid?]

[He talks like a bear's appetite is endless.]

You've been hungry for me since day one.

[What's day one? Since they met? Cause that would be bold words for a kid who took a near immediate liking to Mr. White too yet held out for weeks and might have held out for more had it not been for Santana. Anyway he offers Larry his hands.]

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