orangetoughguy | log post II

No kidding.

[A stranger in his own skin, a stranger in this room. Fuck man, there is no winning at all. He isn't forced out though so Larry gets a little more comfortable.]

Never thought this would ever happen to me, not by a long shot. Never say never I guess.

[The shrug is implied.]

It'll pass though, that sure helps to think about.

[It'll pass he says, simple as that. Fff. Freddy's green eyes are scowling but not in anger like what he's displayed before. This is just...just...annoyance for their situation ugh.]

I'm not going anywhere.

[Code for I'm staying home you can't make me do otherwise. He doesn't stop Larry from getting comfortable either.]

I don't think I am either. Nothin' fits, you know?

[Seriously, look at the shirt. What more can he do from there? Even Larry's socks are not fitting right.]

Can't go out looking like this. Lucky'd piss himself.

[A not angry scowl, that's a pleasure to look at. Though how strange to see his face, know who it is and still have a hard time recognizing it. Larry's own reflection is a trip.]

No shit.

[Freddy replies with only a mild hint of sarcasm and a bigger helping of despair. How fucking strange to have the old man sitting right here when only a night ago Larry wouldn't have dared come in uninvited. How fucking strange he looks the way he does.]

This is such bullshit. [He turns around to hide his scowling-turned-furrowing face.]

Not like anybody'd blame us for callin' in sick.

[No shit there either. Goddamn, Dimick say something that isn't predictable. Larry rubs his forehead, the tips of his fingers are rough as they usually are but...feels different all fucking over. At least one thing is normal, sitting here with Freddy. Kind of. Hell, that's the most normal thing he can want right now. And they aren't fighting. Yet.]

You okay?

You can't tell anyone what happened to me.

[Of all the fucking things to be embarrassed about, he'd rather be a talking dog than a woman. At least talking dogs are fucking supercool.]

...No.

Okay.

[Why would he? Well, except in passing to Pink but come on. The man himself is a joke.]

...I'll listen if you want to talk about it, kid.

[He lightly touches a hand between those shoulder blades.]

I don't wanna talk about it, Larry.

[No flinching for the touch to his back but the way he says well, he means it. Just for different reasons all together. Oh shit was that a sniffle?]

Hey.

[Was that really a sniffle? It's a completely undoing sound. Women crying is one thing, a woman that's Freddy that's not wounded crying that's a whole fucking other thing. Maybe he's got a runny nose.]

We don't gotta if you don't wanna.

[What to do? What to fucking do? Larry scoots a little closer.]

[He's gonna have a runny nose soon enough.]

I don't.

[Oh fuck oh fuck. The tears are coming down and he thinks he knows exactly why but he can't tell Larry that either. Men and women crying are two different animals, it's way easier to do it this way.]

[Both hands are on his shoulders, giving a squeeze.]

Freddy.

[Oh shit. He leans forward, trying to make eye contact. The further into Freddy's personal space the more aware he is that breast contact is a given. Oh well. Forgive him for that.]

It's gonna be okay.

Being like this sucks, Larry.

[Like a woman, he means. That's all. Like a woman. That's why the kid's not freaking out over breast contact right? Right.]

[Fuck it, Larry pulls Freddy in for a hug.]

We'll be ourselves again. Gotta wait it out.

[Being close together feels alien and familiar all at once. The kid's hair has always been soft but now it's especially long and especially soft.]

Don't let it get you down.

[Freddy leans into that familiar yet foreign weight. He's a woman but the size, the build, the tattoo, all of that seems right. And maybe in the wake of this week it doesn't really matter.]

Well I fuckin' hate it man. It's fuckin' bullshit.

[Being a woman. Right. That's what he means really. Nothing more.]

[God, it feels good to just touch him. It's been a week after all.]

I do too. I wonder how many fellas like us are out today.

[This is an attempt to distract. The bed doesn't groan under Larry's weight as he scoots even closer, almost spooning.]

Who would believe it?

[That wildcat tattooed arm stays around him with the other.

Who gives a shit those guys aren't me.

[What's that supposed to even mean, Newendyke?? Freddy shakes his head. How can Larry be so comfortable this way? Of course, one could also ask how can Freddy be so comfortable with Larry around him like this? It's because he's still Larry and he hasn't felt that touch in a week.]

Such bullshit. [Sniff. He wipes his delicate but still somewhat larger than average nose. See, runny.]

Thought maybe it might help you feel better to know we're not the only ones with a problem today.

[The being women problem. They got others. That...shouldn't be important right now. Larry's comfortable because he's focusing on the kid, not on how lost he feels in his own skin. Another lean and he finds that Freddy smells the same.]

We're tough guys. It's strange and we're gonna get through it. We're not real tranny's.

[Oh, that runny nose. He fumbles for something to wipe his nose with.]

[Sniff sniff. Breathe. Sniff. Wait what? Green eyes are looking at you now, Lawrence Dimick.]

You know a real tranny?

[Freddy does too, kinda, not personally though. That makes a difference.]

[Those eyes are so, so green. Larry brushes the back of his pointer finger across that cheek to brush away any tears.]

Uh huh. A few.

[Now to the other cheek. Just touching. Helping. Can't do much about the nose for now. He's got a sleeve though.]

Stop that.

[Freddy swats at the tear-wiping hand but only lightly so, like a kid being teased instead of a man--er, woman being comforted.]

Friends of yours?

[Swatted he then combs his fingers into the other man's hair.]

One I knew for forever in my neighborhood grownin' up. Nobody talked about her, but people weren't nice to her. And heh, I met one at a bar. Took her to a room, and uh...well, I was too embarrassed. We stayed in touch though.Sweet lady.

[Bet you like that one, huh kid. Larry leans close to his hair to tell him that.]

The other one, I saw her at this show...

[Finger combing his hair is far more tolerable because...because the kid loves the feeling of Larry's fingers on his head, okay? Man or woman, as long as it's Larry.]

You couldn't do it?

A show huh...you got a thing for them?

[Freddy's just asking since it sounds like the old man's had more than his fair share of close encounters. The kid on the other hand, he's tried not to arrest the ones looking to make some money. They're safer indoors than on the streets.]

[Comb, comb.]

Not at the time. Besides, I thought she was a she. And she wasn't quite. Not yet anyway. So...I mean, didn't know how to take it at the time.

[Shrug.]

Don't get me wrong though, we ended up okay.

[Not fucking but, okay.]

Featured in a show. Vegas for you. [Larry laughs though. A thing for him when he's got this freckled, muscled Newendyke in disguise.]

That's fuckin' weird. I mean, the whole get up, not getting'em in bed.

[Er, that just sounds dumb now, Newendyke. Freddy tries to recover as quick as possible.]

...There's this mutant in X-Men, her name's Mystique. She's one of the bad guys, changes shape and stuff. She totally fathered some of her own kids.

[That's Freddy's theory anyway.]

She gave me a hand job. I took her to dinner, a show. Treated her like the lady she was.

[All of which could sound as dumb as not getting em in bed. Larry's okay with it. Just more twists and turns in that road of his that isn't quite straight.]

Bullshit, they do that in comics?

[He welcomes the subject change, especially to something that makes Freddy happy.]

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