orangetoughguy | log post II

You're gonna have to try at some point. Me too.

[Brrrrr, the kid shivers at the very thought.]

Great.

[Meaning that he'll have to sit pissing. However that is meant to go. Just...sit and do it? Is that all?]

Any of my smokes in here?

[...after a week.]

I dunno, you might have to dig around.

[But look at how helpful Freddy's being now, wriggling a bit to search around his bed, the nightstand, inside the nightstand where he keeps lube and rubbers they don't even use anymore. Marlboros are right on top but them ain't no Chesterfields. Urgh. Oh hey wait.]

Hold up.

[Look this is just what he has to do to get what he spies between the bed and the nightstand okay? The kid leans off the side of the bed, rear up, tits hanging. Reeeeeaaaach. There we go. A single unlit Chesterfield. It's only slightly bent, he presents it to Larry.]

[While looking around he can roll his eyes at...everything. of all the dumb luck and circumstances. The shelves are filled with figures. At the hold up, he stops. And now he's got an eye full. Oh fuck. All that right there.]

Thanks.

[For the cigarette. Though Larry's thinking over going to the bathroom already. He'll light it up himself.]

How'd you know it was there?

[Back on the bed Freddy just shrugs, hands flapping slightly.]

Don't know, I mean you're always in here. [Except for the past week.] Knew somethin' had to be lying around.

[He'll light his own smoke up too. Sitting in bed is just damn warm and comfortable.]

[Larry keeps his legs off the bed, he doesn't want to burn the bed after all. The better to be closer to the ash tray, maybe to also hide how utterly and completely cut down he feels.]

I should keep a spare in here.

[For always, man or woman, fight or not. Preferably male and not fighting when it gets down to it.]

A whole damn day like this.

[. . . . . . . . .] Oh come on Larry. What's wrong.

[As if he can really hide that look from Freddy Newendyke. Reading faces is part of his calling, nevermind how he does better with people he actually likes.]

[Heavy sigh. There is no lying to him.]

I'm glad we're talking again. I feel like we can't make up properly.

[And he's upset that it's been a week. Are there any other pieces of evidence they sleep together in here?]

....really nothin' big.

[Could be worse, they could be fighting.]

[Well, well. Freddy can't blame Larry for feeling the way he does. He feels the same way too, just another reason why he hates being a woman. Oh fuck what if they aren't really women but happened to swap bodies with a pair of dykes?? But wait, Larry does have his tattoo...hrm.]

...Think if I give you a hickey it'll go away when you're a guy again?

[Inhale and slow exhale. He thinks it over.]

I think it would, if you shot me right now I'd likely still have a mark.

[Taps ash.]

You're welcomed to try.

[Though he's not making the first move.]

[Freddy takes a particularly deep pull from his cigarette, slow and steady, then streams the rest of it through his nose. Green eyes are looking on.]

Okay.

[Cigarette held aside, the kid leans in for the kill, teeth clamping down on the other man's neck as if the pressure will convince him (and himself) that he's still a man under those tits.]

[To be honest, he didn't think much of it. The man talked about pissing when they were swapping saliva. That was a big red stop sign for Larry. Color him a few shades of surprised.]

Ah! Fucking shit! [Damn lucky the hand that reaches to get a handful of his hair is not the one with the burning cigarette. Larry hisses from pain and the other extreme. It process the same in this dickless body.]

[Oops. Freddy releases.]

Too hard for you, tough guy?

No.

[Maybe. Yes. Fingers lighten up on his hair.]

I can take it.

[Though he feels like there could be blood now. Shit. Swallow, pant pant. Larry takes a drag from his cigarette.]

Well, okay.

[No blood, just teeth marks that'll go away. Eventually. Freddy thinks about that answer then shrugs, taking a pull from his cigarette before closing his mouth around the same spot again. Jesus even his mouth feels smaller, no doubt something Larry could have enjoyed with a dick. Ah well. The sting of teeth turns into the constant pressure of someone sucking to bruise the skin.]

[Woah. Back again? Okay. Larry drops his cigarette into the ash tray.]

Fuck. [He'll say it again, hissing. Though his voice doesn't sound as deep and low as usual. Reaching back he expects to feel the touch of that freckled, furred arm. No, not quite. It throws him off.]

Mmmm. [Goddamn, he sounds like a woman. While the size of Freddy's mouth has changed it's still as talented in its way.]

[Sucking sucking sucking. He still tries to think of Larry, imagining the light stubble he'd normally feel along that jaw instead of the smoothness of a woman. Instead the kid's afflicted with a yearning for their natural equipment and that just makes him feel...strange. Strange because in both forms he obviously harbors a hankering for cock and his body reacts appropriately. Suckling at Larry's neck and trying to think out some rationalization takes so long his cigarette's already burned itself out on the rim. Pity that.]

Mm.... [Oh God, breathe Newendyke. He parts his lips to lean back.] Um, wanna get breakfast?

[Soon, before they cause anymore trouble for themselves. One other thought does occur to the kid, which is that they can hold each other in public and no one will be the wiser. Women do it all the time.]

[No doubt now he is well and truly marked. Something he'll wear proudly in this skin and the next. When Freddy pulls back the first brush of breath against his neck gives him goosebumps.]

Breakfast?

[Even though his voice is at a higher pitch, it's absolutely sandpaper rough right now. No matter what the kid looks like, he gets the old man damn good.]

...Sure. We need to figure out what to do about [cooling it without a shower] clothes.

Huh...

[Shake it out Newendyke, shake it out.] Nothin's wrong with just what we got right? I mean a shirt, another shirt, and a jacket...

I'm gonna need to borrow a belt. [Since he's got smaller hips normally anyway. Larry's isn't going to cut it today. And in case Freddy needs to know why, he lifts the hem of his Superman shirt to show the safety pin keeping his underwear on. Shirt back down. On his feet now, stretching. Normal, normal, normal times because everything is fine. He's not hornier than shit.]

But...yeah.

[Brown eyes keep drifting back to look at his mouth.]

Where uh where do you want to go?

What're you trying to say?

[Not a trick question. Just a question. Note how although his own clothes feels loose at least they're still staying on him. Ahem. Maybe it's just the sheer displacement of Larry's muscles. Yep. Anyway, have a belt tossed your way, Ms. White.]

Wanna get tacos?

[Probably too late for a real breakfast anyway. Freddy actually smiles here, looking forward to being able to be affectionate in public. Maybe.]

Thanks.

[For the belt. As for the rest, he waves that right on off. The kid's small but not tiny.]

I'd never say no to tacos.

[Okay. More productivity now. Out of the room he goes to find pants. Jeans today. Once they're on they notably fit differently. Oh shit. Shoes...for some reason fit okay. Small mercies. Larry's not exactly thinking of the pros to going out in public. In fact, it makes him nervous. There are actually flutterings of apprehension going on.]

Sure.

[When Freddy throws clothes on it's the equivalent of a girl throwing on clothes to make it through a comic shop without detection of her different status. He's seen his fair share of such ladies, hell he's seen the same around academy too. And just like in academy Freddy pulls his hair back into a ponytail...a ponytail he sticks through the hole in his Iron Man cap. Jeans, t-shirt, jacket. All good. His shoes are a little loose but not unwearable. Overall...he looks like a tomboy or a woman trying to hide her feminity...same thing in his book.]

You got long sleeves on?

[So no one will recognize the big old bear of course. The last thing they need is Lucky getting wise to them, unless Lucky himself is now Lassy.]

[Superman can't be worn out alone. Especially when a glance in the mirror has Dimick noticing that it's kind of cold in here. Yeah, no. A simple button up then. Looking real Annie Hall right now. Oh fucking well.]

Yeah. I do.

[In true fashion, Larry's combing his hair. May as well leave it alone, looks like it's gonna behave on its own. Good thing. Here he comes back to you, Freddy. Same clothes, same smell.]

[Giving Larry a once over he can recognize each article of clothing down to the last time he remembers seeing Larry in it. Sometimes his memory is shit but when it comes to something that (or someone who) matters, then, well.]

Okay. You're Jennifer Walters and I'm Carol Danvers.

[A beat.]

That's She Hulk and Ms. Marvel.

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