[For a return from the dog house. It's soothing and quiet now without the TV or the speakers threatening to die any moment. The kid really should make a point to turn it down. Don't want to blow them out or anything.
The quiet is better than arguing. They know each other enough to be okay with saying jack shit at all. Larry sucks down more of his cigarette before keeping at the kid. Why waste another fucking moment with apologies...but just in case.]
You know I'm sorry, right?
[Another kiss. That second bullet of Joe's could have hit bone. He could have never played ball again.]
[Does he have to say sorry too? Surely Larry knows that. Hell he said it yesterday at some point in the middle of bitching and moaning over his tits. Freddy brings his hand up to brush through Larry's slightly peppering hair.]
Just chill out for a little bit, then maybe we can go get tacos.
Nope. I don't. There are a lot of different ways to enjoy em.
[Who wants to go without it though. Cereal is good for you. And as for tacos that's what, two or three food groups. Brown eyes look into green and he shrugs.]
I know I like tacos all of the time.
[Does Freddy like tacos because the old man is crazy about em? Or did he just develop a taste of his very own?]
[The kid nods. He's always liked tacos but not as much since enjoying them with the old man. A lot of things he's used to doing feel more enjoyable whenever Lawrence Dimick is around. But Freddy doesn't have to say that for Larry to know, does he? That's sentimental and affectionate, the equivalent to those three strong words.]
[Cereal automatically makes him think of Freddy. Obviously, tacos have to do the same. One is best enjoyed at home, the other out and about. Larry smiles around his cigarette thinking of when they went out together, arm in arm for tacos.
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[For a return from the dog house. It's soothing and quiet now without the TV or the speakers threatening to die any moment. The kid really should make a point to turn it down. Don't want to blow them out or anything.
The quiet is better than arguing. They know each other enough to be okay with saying jack shit at all. Larry sucks down more of his cigarette before keeping at the kid. Why waste another fucking moment with apologies...but just in case.]
You know I'm sorry, right?
[Another kiss. That second bullet of Joe's could have hit bone. He could have never played ball again.]
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[Does he have to say sorry too? Surely Larry knows that. Hell he said it yesterday at some point in the middle of bitching and moaning over his tits. Freddy brings his hand up to brush through Larry's slightly peppering hair.]
Just chill out for a little bit, then maybe we can go get tacos.
[As men, the way they're meant to be. Fff.]
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Okay, tough guy.
[Leaving the apartment is something worth saving his strength for.]
You don't get sick of tacos do you?
[They're just talking about tacos. Not anything else.]
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You don't get sick of cereal do you?
[Either eating it or having to see boxes upon boxes of it in the kitchen cabinets, in Freddy's room, on Freddy's fingertips...]
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[Who wants to go without it though. Cereal is good for you. And as for tacos that's what, two or three food groups. Brown eyes look into green and he shrugs.]
I know I like tacos all of the time.
[Does Freddy like tacos because the old man is crazy about em? Or did he just develop a taste of his very own?]
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[The kid nods. He's always liked tacos but not as much since enjoying them with the old man. A lot of things he's used to doing feel more enjoyable whenever Lawrence Dimick is around. But Freddy doesn't have to say that for Larry to know, does he? That's sentimental and affectionate, the equivalent to those three strong words.]
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Shit. When did he get so fucking soft?]