orangetoughguy | log post II

You think I might bust a nut just like that? I'm a professional too you know.

[Freddy carries on, sinking his teeth into that apple happily. Moving onto the next corner he's got his washers and bolts ready for the twisting. This prevents the kid from putting his full attention on the bird, only because he figures the old man will tell him if something's up. What's he gonna say now? Because the beast shifts its attention from Freddy Newendyke to Lawrence Dimick. Headtilt, headtilt, tok. It takes a gentle stab at the bear's ear.]

Oh yeah, that one's going in. A little grease and nothin' doin'. [Insert more gruff exerting sounds.]

Even professionals can be rough. Not your fault if the pieces can't take it right.

[Nngh bird. He tilts his head to one side, trying to bend it away from that big ol' beak. Lucky it's gentle. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that if it wanted to it could bring the pain.

This doesn't effect his cooperation with the cage construction.]

Stick it in right, fella. Like that.

Oh shit this is a tough one.

[The kid's not making reedy pain level noises but the grunting and the huffing ought to be familiar to one Lawrence Dimick who had evoked these sounds from Freddy Newendyke himself. Twist twist twist, oh yeah he's got it in there. With the blondie's attention elsewhere the bird focuses on the brunette. Strrrreeetch and now it's 'combing' through Larry's hair with the tip of its beak. Some people call this a grooming ritual. Too bad most people don't do this kind of thing with watermelon still sort of sticking to them.]

I think you're growing on him. [Freddy remarks, finally taking a break from his 'strenuous act' to watch this unfold.]

Not too tough for you. Do it.

[Goddamn those noises. Naturally, he wants more of it out of Freddy Newendyke. The real shit with the reedy gasps and moans. There are two obstacles in the way though: the bird and the cage. But if they complete the cage then the bird can hang out there.]

He's getting his foot all over him.

[Larry lifts a hand to try and stop the motion without hitting at him.]

Hey. Quit it, pal. I don't want any mess. Don't be a slob.

[All of this to the bird.]

Nnngh, that's it...that's it, baby...

[He's talking to the nuts and bolts of it all of course. Come on now Larry, the bird's not that much of a distraction is it? Oh wait.]

You're a funny bird. [How the kid can break character and slip right back into it so fluidly is his secret. An undercover cop's gotta be Marlon Brando after all. Flutter flutter, the handwaving stops the toucan only momentarily. Pinch. It's going after those fingers now, but not harshly. Honest.] I think he's just getting to know you better...giving you an excuse to get in the shower later.

[How's that for a hint, Dimick?]

[That one earns an exasperated pant from the old man. What a performance, kid.]

Yeah well. We're working up a sweat anyway.

[He says trying to be as cool as a cucumber, attempting to wag off the grip the bird has on his fingers.]

I could go for a shower. How about you, Mr. Professional?

[That's a blinking neon sign.]

[Twist twist twist, twitch. Okay the bird relinquishes that finger to hop on down to the floor. Tok tok. It's inspecting its soon to be new home within a home.]

Yeah, after all this I'm feeling pretty fuckin' filthy.

[Reading that sign loud and clear. But first! Freddy stands up while dusting his hands.] All that's left is the door. Then we'll throw in the log, some fruit, and see how the little dude likes his new corner. [Regular Jekyll and Hyde, this Newendyke.]

[The old man is on the door. Talk about eager. Thanks for surrendering his other hand, bird.]

Sounds like a cleaning job that needs two people.

[Wedging, twisting and fitting it into place.]

Gimme a bit. How about you make your friend a salad, I'm about done with the door.

To get the hard to reach places huh? Find parts you didn't know existed all the way up in there?

[In here. He'd gesture to his own body but he's pretty sure Larry's on the same wavelength. Besides, Freddy has a fruit salad to prepare. Hop hop the toucan follows after the kid.]

Okay dude, how does watermelon and grapes sound huh? [The bird likes the sound of that if its purring is any indication. It nudges Freddy with its bill too, like urging him to get on with it.] I'm on it I'm on it, don't have a fuckin' cow. You're lucky you're a tame bird.

[That's a laugh too. Freddy's genuinely entertained by this goofy looking car payment. He takes the quickly sliced and plucked treats back to the cage, Sam in tow on his shoulder.]

I'm going for thorough. You better be ready for it.

[Ah hah. Looks like the cage now has itself a door. Larry gives it a try opening and shutting it a few times then trying the latch.]

Your bird has got himself a home.

[No lie that he worked up a sweat. Larry wipes his face with the bottom hem of his shirt. May as well take it all the way off. Seeing Freddy coming, he holds the door of the cage open.]

You're kidding me right? My body is always ready. [For Lawrence Dimick anyway. In go the treats followed by the log with the hole in it. He doesn't really know what the toucan will do with it since it seems to like open perches better but there are prongs and things on the inside for that too. Last but not least is the bird itself.] Okay dude.

[Er, the kid pauses to stare at the shirtless old man, all firm muscles and scars and dark clearly suntanned skin and ink. He's really something, this Mr. White. Tok tok, the bird takes a couple knocks at Larry's abs.]

Hey hey, those aren't yours.

[Hear that, Larry? Now Freddy's the one being mildly territorial. He sticks his arm into the cage waiting for the toucan to hop off. A grape helps to entice that bill with a bird into his new place easily.] Well, that was simple.

That's what I like to hear. [Fuck there's no one like Freddy Newendyke, the car fixing, badge wearing, comic reading, bird owning son of a bitch that he is. He waits nearby hoping that the bird can get a move on.

The knocks at his abs don't hurt any. Puzzling kind of an action. That remark from the kid has him grinning like a fool.]

Who's are they?

[Because the old man wants to hear it. Aaand the door is shut. Without a bird in the way, this bear can set his paws on Freddy's waist.]

[E-ee-e-e-e-ee-e, clicks the third wheel before it buries its massive beak into a piece of watermelon. Good bird. Pawed upon and empty handed the kid can drag his fingertips down Larry's chest then back up to pinch those nipples.]

Mine, Property of Freddy Motherfuckin' Newendyke.

[Tok tok tok. The toucan briefly shifts attention away from the fruit top stare at Larry and Freddy. Just staring.]

[Freddy earns a hiss. A half a step and they're hip to hip so the old man rubs on up against him.]

Goddamn right.

[No lip locking yet. Larry's content to breathe the same air that the kid is. He looks past Freddy to see that bird frozen in its staring.]

Ready for that shower?

[The one away from the feathered third wheel.]

[Staring. Still just staring. Freddy doesn't notice because he's too involved in Lawrence Dimick. His hands splay out again to slowly rub over those pecs.]

Lead me on up, cowboy.

[His words sound like a purr but it's actually the bird behind him making that noise before it returns to picking out the seeds from that melon.]

[He gladly dips his fingers into the waistband of Freddy's pants at both sides of his hips before meeting in the middle to pull him along toward the bathroom.]

Gonna get you good and wet.

[Yeah, still talking like that. Thank god the bird is fixed on the seeds. Up the stairs now out of sight he lays a kiss on his mouth. Unziiiip those pants.]

[Oof, that pressure makes him hiss pleasantly, not that Freddy needs to be coaxed to come along. He does however cock a brow for that remark. Talk about making him feel like the bitch. Freddy fucking loves it.]

Gonna get you hot and hard.

[Wait that's not even a shower metaphor. Oh well, Freddy's not exactly Shakespeare, and actions can speak just as loud as words, actions like his freckled hand reaching between those thighs to grab Lawrence Dimick. Mmff, he parts his lips to suck on whatever he can in that invading mouth. Feeling those paws on his jeans, getting them unzipped, he wonders if they'll even make it to the shower.]

[Larry sucks in a sharp breath for that grip between his legs. The kid is gripping a hardening cock.]

Half way there.

[This is growled along his jaw. They're nearly to the top of the stairs now. How can his paws not go into Freddy's now opened jeans.]

What do I have here? Huh?

You--[Huff.] Tell me.

[Damn the kid's really hard now, hard enough to let go of Lawrence Dimick's hard-on only to pull the old man up that last step and into a wall. Again their mouths meet followed by a bite to the old man's bottom lip.] Show me how dirty--[Bite and suck.]--I am.

[Peel peel peel, and the kid's shirt tumbles to the floor.]

Feels like a hard, long cock.

[One that he's gonna wrap his fingers around to roughly stroke at his find. Oof up against the wall and swapping saliva. Larry growls at that bite. He's shoving his pants down. His own shirt must have fallen off of his shoulders on the stairs. Ah well. No matter.

Freddy's cock slips from his grip so that they can rub dick to dick. His hands plant themselves on either cheek of his ass fingertips very close to pressing in.]

You asked for it.

[He almost has a witty retort for that, something about soap and dropping it, but the hand stroking him takes the words right out of his flapping mouth. Shit, he's got to hold onto Larry's side or else his knees might buckle out from under him. They do spread though upon feeling those fingertips so damn close, like some kind of automatic response to a gesture his body knows so fucking well.]

Come at me with all you got, old man.

[Freddy growls, egging him on quite enthusiastically, as enthusiastic as the thrusts he makes cock to cock.]

I don't think you're ready just yet, baby. You always got big talk.

[A long lick across his bottom lip. Huff, rubbing up on him feels so damn good. Since he's the one leaning up on the wall, he slides a foot to move Freddy to widen his stance. He moves a paw a way and presents Freddy with three fingers.]

Suck on em. Be sure they're good and wet.

[The other paw reaches between them to rub both of their cocks.]

Now. [Kiss at his neck.] I gotta figure out just how I wanna fuck you.

Big talk to match a big fuck.

[In terms of a noun or a verb? Hm. Either way Freddy's still talking as he's rubbing and touching and squeezing--hey now. His legs widen without much protest beyond a look of defiance in those green eyes. Except fuck he loves the way Larry's treating him, especially with those big fingers hovering in front of his face. He wants to talk back, talk shit, but he wants to fuck too and for fuck's sake that paw holding them together is pushing Freddy towards begging. Don't beg Newendyke, that would be too easy. So instead the kid opens his mouth to start suckling. First one finger, then two, then three, all three at once, like it's a dick he's sucking.]

Mmhm?

[He sounds around Larry's knuckles, encouraging him in that 'creative' process.]

[All three fingers wag in his mouth, scissoring then fitting together. A cock looks nice between his talkative jaws.]

There we go. That's it. All wet.

[Larry's fist keeps on stroking them, but stops at the tips, rubbing and pinching lightly. Watching that mouth he can't help but then move his fingers in and out.]

Mmmm. Okay, that's enough. Know where they're going right? Right into that ass of yours.

[Watch this now, he slips away from the wall. Freddy gets to face it while the old man works him from behind. Words might be rough, but this ol' bear isn't. He kisses the freckles on his shoulders. One finger at a time, easing because it's only saliva.]

Uh huh.

[Still can't form real words like this but the kid's wrapping his tongue around those fingers like it's Larry's dick. Licking and sucking and wetting them for all they're worth because he does in fact know where they're going--oh shit. A hiss escapes for the way he handles his cock. Almost got the kid thrusting, old man. Almost.]

Uh huh. [Hey he can talk now.] Stick'em in me, tough guy.

[Now he's gonna make real sounds, not ones mimicked while turning a wrench. Manipulated to face the wall--hey is Bettie up on this one--he crosses his arms against it, overhead, to bow his back. Thighs spread a little more followed by a low hiss as Larry eases them in. Fuck, his body is getting ready.]

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