log post II

[orangetoughguy]

third person narrative, action bracket spam, anything goes
log post I | log post II | log post III

Comments

[orangetoughguy]

That's total anti-California bullshit. Our football team's made of motherfuckin' pirates. Your football team's made of cheese.

[Yeah he went there. He's going over to the foot of those stairs too.]

[whitetwoguns]

We're talkin' ball. You didn't want to talk about the Giants and we all know what the Padres aren't worth the dirt they play on.

[Okay. Now he's facing the stairs. Might be peering down there.]

Stick to one fucking sport.

[orangetoughguy]

Don't blame me we kick ass at all of them.

[See this cocky pose.]

[whitetwoguns]

Would you listen to yourself for two seconds? This is fucking outrageous.

[Arms folded, shaking his head.]

[orangetoughguy]

What's fucking outrageous is [Up up up a step to emphasize each word he says.] You. Think. The Brewers. Are better.

[That's four steps towards Larry. What a far cry from bleeding to death in a wagon.]

[whitetwoguns]

I didn't say better. You're putting words in my fucking mouth.

[Give him three steps. This sure isn't cradling that body and telling he's gonna be okay.]

[orangetoughguy]

So what are you sayin'? Cause I don't have a clear picture you know?

[Up up up. Poke to Larry's chest.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Woah, woah. Who the fuck is this? Larry's stunned but not enough to back on down.]

I'm sayin' the fucking Dodgers ain't all that. Not no number one. I got no reason to respect em.

[He backs up because he doesn't want anyone tumbling down the stairs.]

[orangetoughguy]

But the Brewers are? You got reason to respect them? Sounds like you think the Brewers are better to me.

[Give the kid an inch and he'll swim all over you, old man. That's what Freddy's doing, now fully upstairs.]

[whitetwoguns]

You know what, yeah. They are better to me than the Dodgers. A shit ton in fact. Not no flash in the pan they got a steady flow, sure it ain't perfect but anyone who thinks the Dodgers are perfect they're delusional.

[More than a few inches, fuck he tries waving off this gruffness. Down boy.]

[orangetoughguy]

[Waving him off? Really? Freddy kind of just looks at Larry.]

Do you know what you sound like?

[whitetwoguns]

I ain't deaf. I sound like I'm being reasonable.

[Or....no, no he doesn't have any idea what he sounds like. His arms cross once again, and he side steps to give the kid room but it's not a retreat.]

[orangetoughguy]

You sound like a cranky old man.

[Freddy answers happily, looking up that small distance between them, height thing and all. Then a hand comes whipping out to smack Larry on the rear.]

Loosen up.

[whitetwoguns]

What the fuck did you call me?

[Huff, huff. Sure their heights differ but that doesn't mean it's impossible to glare into those green eyes. Larry's running so hot he feels like he's going to boil over. Of all the people in all the world and all time, he hasn't been called a cranky old man.

And that touch to his ass, seals the deal. Rather than using his fists to pulverize the kid, they ball into his shirt and he attacks with his mouth in a different way now.]

[orangetoughguy]

Cranky old man.

[He's got to say it fast to get the words out because he also sees those paws coming at him. He doesn't manage to stop Larry from grabbing his shirt but Freddy's hot his own tough hands on those wrists. Then up the wild cat. Then up his biceps. Kinda anchoring here now as their mouths mash together. Well okay, this is a good fight as any.]

Mmmff fmmf mmph.

[That may or may not have been a reiteration of the original insult. Oof, the kid uses his own weight to try pinning the other guy to the wall.]

[whitetwoguns]

[The hot button subject is baseball but the way Larry's tongue is working it's more like football, tackling, gaining ground. Teeth drag as his hands remain in fists to hold the mans shirt but he takes a step forward, groin to groin.]

Fuck the Dodgers for all I care.

[It's a hiss, defiant and stubborn as some kid may be for being a cranky old man.]

[orangetoughguy]

You're--[Breathe.] Gonna regret--[Another mashing.] That.

[Maybe, maybe not. Going groin to groin is an instant erection-springer for this kid. Whoa hey don't let him have it so easy, Newendyke. Freddy pulls away just enough to make it seem like he's trying to gain more yards and only dragging Larry along because he's got no choice. Into Larry's room no less cause that's where he's planning to score a goal. Unlike some other people, scrappy dogs don't have what it takes to carry bears into their caves.]

[whitetwoguns]

Fat chance. [Solid answer and a growl he can squeeze in before the kid takes the play and runs with it. Goddamn, he feels the kid hard and the cranky old man is not far behind. Dragged along works only because he's attempting to wrestle back a bit. Why here? Though he has vague ideas spinning in circles. all of them don't matter right now.]

[orangetoughguy]

[Freddy holds no illusions about his size (except that he's closer to 5'8 than 5'7) so in order to get Larry on the bed he has to literally throw all his weight onto him. The kid does so and attempts to top it off with straddling the old man's chest. Note, not so cranky anymore.]

Oh yeah?

[whitetwoguns]

[Not ready for a shove and boy does he put his back into it, the old man's on the bed. If he wasn't hard before, he sure is now. Big hands go on either side of him, not shoving him off as he straddles but gripping him tight. Oh shit.]

Yeah, big man. I'll say it again.

[He doesn't but the words are poised on his tongue.]

[orangetoughguy]

[That's more like it. Now it's Freddy who balls his fists into Larry's shirt, pulling him up while curling over to meet him near face to face. He can't deny those big hands on him feeling so good.]

Say the Dodgers are number one.

[whitetwoguns]

No.

[Face to face and his breath is getting heavy. Those big hands clutch.]

Fuck the Dodgers.

[orangetoughguy]

[So he wants to play hardball huh? Freddy lets go of that shirt only to start undoing his own pants.]

You asked for it.

[He's hard enough it doesn't take much for that erection to rear its head.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Suddenly his mouth feels fucking dry. That dick is pretty damn close. Is this how the play is going to go.]

Bring it on, tough guy. I can take it.

[His hands now move a little to grip at the hem of his shirt..]

[orangetoughguy]

[No need for a safe word right? As for his shirt, well sorry Larry but this kid doesn't want you holding onto that. He pulls the shirt right off and tosses it aside.]

Okay.

[Spoken passively to contradict the way Freddy grips brown slightly peppering hair before shifting forward. Aw come on he's not gonna force it into the old man's mouth...just nudge it against his lips.]