orangetoughguy | log post II

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.]

That's what you do when you're a gentleman.

[No sarcasm here because in Larry's case it's true. He's got that old fashioned something when it comes to treating dates right. The kid nods now, feeling better already. They're actually talking, not fighting. Strange, but right.]

Oh yeah, I mean you gotta read between the lines. [The speech bubbles and panels, he means.] But it's totally there.

Somethin' has gotta turn out right.

[Even now he's reaching for the blankets to pull up. Kinda cold in here. And no one's wearing much. Maybe he will curl up more cozy.]

That didn't piss off anybody? That stuff usually makes the news. That's pretty big.

Nope. Comic books are for nerds don't you know?

[Cozy he can do. It's not the same as touching the new equipment after all.]

[A hand does go to his newly curved hip. Nothing funny about that, right? Hips are only hips. As close as Larry is, he is still thinking over how welcomed a kiss would be right now.]

You calling yourself a nerd?

[Why ruin this? Well...to make it even better. His mouth brushes against Freddy's temple, could be a bump too depending.]

Ain't no shame in it.

[He'd rather be a nerd than a woman--o-okay now he's noting the touch but does nothing about it for now. Hips are only hips, right?]

The all can't look like you. There's no way.

[Creeping up his shirt, not going for the breast though it'd be a lie to say he's not tempted. Freddy already said he didn't like being this way at all. That'd be like rubbing it in...unless he could show him that it wouldn't be so bad, right?

The real question is how lucky does Larry Dimick feel.]

Then they wouldn't have such a reputation.

Some of'em do. I just got lucky, no glasses.

[Freddy smiles, until he feels that hand. Green eyes go a little narrow for it and he reaches out to still Larry's fingers.]

Don't even think about it.

I'd take you with or without glasses.

[After all, not far off from sunglasses. Or so the thought process goes.]

How do you know what I'm thinkin'?

[Which in of itself is a moderately guilty question. The hand stops but rubs the pad of his thumb lightly.]

[Now his brow furrows but again more so in curiosity (and minor apprehension over the weirdness) than anger.]

I know you know what I think you're thinkin' and I know you know I'm probably right.

You're good looking one way or the other if that's a worry of yours.

[May as well tell the man the fucking truth. Larry swallows and gives up a few inches with that hand.]

I'd never do anything you wouldn't like, you know that.

[Heaven help him he releases an exasperated sigh.]

I'm. A. Woman. Larry. [Not that Freddy has anything against women.] I'm not the same, hell neither are you. Look.

[He rolls onto his side enough to drop part of his jacket off his shoulder to reveal a perfectly hairless (epilated clean via curse by City Salon Services, TM) underarm.]

Fuckin' weird.

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