orangetoughguy | log post II

Sure. If that's what you want.

[His room, after all.]

You know what they say about this kind of a thing we have.

[If only there was a more indirect way to say it. That's a big part of what's bothering him right now about this. Fuck the kid can believe what ever he wants. He loves comics, old music... None of that though says the can't be how he is. Those things don't judge you.]

What who says about what thing?

[If Larry's gonna ask him questions then Freddy expects Larry to make more specific remarks, especially if they're going to talk about this.]

The church says faggots go to hell. Don't they?

[That was one of the many messages he got the last time he went to church. It's not a truth he believes, maybe part of it makes it easier to believe that there may not be a god of he can pick and choose which assholes go where when there are damn good people out there who don't live the same way as those holy believers.]

I'm not tryin' to start shit. I'm trying to get it.

It depends on the church.

[That's not exactly a lie though Freddy understands what Larry's trying to say and do, which is not start shit. He gets up off the bed now to spark up a cigarette. Smoking's probably against some rule too, isn't it Lent this season? Fuck.]

Your church?

[Brown eyes watching, wondering. He doesn't regret trying to talk it out....the it though is illusive in its way. Nothing is clearcut, Larry himself is full of contradiction.]

[He has to think about this one for a moment. Technically he doesn't consider himself a part of any church but to say he hasn't gone to one in a while would be a lie. He went to the only one here before getting his bite results.]

I don't really have a church right now. [He pulls an ashtray over.] A couple of the ones I grew up around? I'll give you that, 'faggots' go to hell.

[The way the kid says it clearly leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Faggots are guys like Pink trying to change their codename color for pussy reasons. Not guys like them.]

Do you believe that, kid?

[Regardless of what church. Bad enough that he's with a crook, like that's not some morally questionable activity. Would mounting a cross vindicate all of that? Maybe exorcise some evil between them? He's still watching.]

I remember that is what they'd say. You go to hell if you're born out of wedlock. You go to hell if you fuck before marriage. You go to hell if you disobey your parents.

[Freddy actually stares at Larry now. Really just stares.]

You're kidding me right? I mean, do you really have to ask? [It's not a trick question either.]

Do I look like I'm kidding?

[Fuck, can't they just talk about this? Okay. Maybe his tact has gone out the window. It's a sensitive subject on both ends.]

You still believe it even though that's what they say?

[Oh he's still staring.]

No I don't fucking believe it. Do I act like I'm ashamed to you? Or is this because I'm bred Catholic I'm supposed to be some guilt-ridden masochist?

Hey. I'm askin' because I don't fucking know.

[Larry stands up and folds his arms.]

I dunno how fulla pride you can be, we keep it to ourselves.

The fact that you thought I might be a little ashamed is kind of hard to swallow. [He's using his hands to talk now, cigarette waving.]

You know, after all the assfucking and cocksucking I've given you.

Hold up and fucking listen. I told you, I'm not trying to start shit. And you know how much I like that assfucking and cocksucking, better yet I love it.

[It's addicting. Maybe most of that portion is because it's Freddy.]

I didn't know you were the cross hanging kind. If that means somethin' to you then [Larry spreads his hands] there you go. Fine. Good.

[Huff huff. Huff. If he's not trying to start shit then why did he bring up faggots? That's what the kid wonders as he smokes down his cigarette. Huff.]

Does it bother you? [Green eyes are looking straight at brown ones. Ready to detect a lie.]

[Good thing he's ready to tell the truth.]

I have a problem with what it stands for. I don't have a problem with you.

[In case that wasn't clear enough. Why can't he fucking ask questions?]

Tell me what it stands for.

[In the world of Lawrence Dimick, that is.]

[Arms fold again. Things are really in the shitter.]

Making people feel guilty for being the way they are and calling it a sin when no one fucking knows for sure.

So it bothers you.

[Freddy repeats, trying to get the answer to that even though maybe, just maybe, he ought to be listening to Larry too. It's hard when the kid feels like he's already being judged.]

You can do whatever the fuck you want to. [Even though I don't care would sound good paired with it, the old man's not going to say it because he fucking cares. No lying right now.]

I mean, it's your room. This is our apartment.

[Now it sounds as though he's trying to convince himself rather than grip the common ground. Larry is trying in his way to listen and understand.]

Larry.

[The way he says his name is demanding the old man look at him. Square in the fucking caramel green eyes. Freddy may as well be an inquisitor, ironic considering his side of the law.]

Does it bother you.

[Despite his seemingly calm exterior the kid is incensed. He wasn't prepared for Larry questioning him, which in turn makes Freddy question his own decision to ever bring it into this household. What kind of home does he have where something so small causes such a big problem? Should've known better, Newendyke.]

[Damn. Was he looking away? Larry looks at him.]

If it makes you happy, then no. [The words I can live with it are on his mouth. Almost. Almost.]

We don't got a problem here, do we? Freddy, we're just talkin'.

And if I wasn't here, huh? What about that? I don't wanna hear if this or if fuckin' that, Larry. You got a problem with it? You gotta tell me.

[Hands, they're moving, even getting a little ash on the floor before he puts that cigarette out.]

Don't make it depend on me like somehow that makes it better. All you're doing is putting it on me and that's the kinda guilt I don't need.

I wouldn't ask about nothing that wasn't there.

[And he says that louder than he intended, arms fall at his side and he's stepping left to right, not gonna pass through the door way yet.]

I got a problem with religion. It's not your problem it's mine. I'm not gonna fucking tell you what you should and shouldn't put in your own fucking room in your own fucking house. Shit, you think I'm trying to guilt you too? I was asking. Can't I do that? Huh?

You don't see how you having a problem with something that makes me happy bothers me? This isn't a small tiny little problem, Larry, it sounds like a big fucking problem for you.

[He's in his face now with pointing finger pointing, close to poking, but not quite.]

But okay, you go on and be the big fuckin' man making all the big fuckin' sacrifices around here. I'll just sit and take it like a bitch cause it's my room and that's the kinda boundary you actually draw. [And then, as an afterthought.] A bitch that's gonna burn in hell.

I'm not trying to make it a big fucking problem. It's somethin' that sticks with me on my side. You didn't cause nothing. Fuck I didn't even know. And It don't make no fucking difference of how things should go in this house---

[Which is the beginnings of an apology. Except when he's gonna get all close and shout at him, talk about how he's making sacrifices for something he himself hasn't had a chance to sit on and think over is a red flag to a bull effect.]

I meant that as you got a right to what you got a right to. You like it. I don't think it's fucking fair to say anything wrong about it.

[Fuck this. Fuck all of it. Larry's not backing down. Though if he so much as pokes this bear he's going to flip his shit. It wasn't supposed to be a big deal.]

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