orangetoughguy | log post II

Battery? [No, he's not gonna unnecessarily shift or stiffen. We're cool. Fuckin' super cool in here. Everything's fine. Hopefully. The radio is now playing some girl group covering Simon and Garfunkel.]

Roams everywhere. [Getting in everything. Larry spreads his hands. No singular event or one thing that demonizes the bird.]

No. Get it right. He likes being around you the most. You and me, we go in some other room and he tries to break some sound barrier. I go about my business in some other room, nothin'. Hardly a peep.

[An exaggeration for a generally vocal bird.]

[Freddy opens his mouth like he's gonna say something about the roaming toucan then he stops because Larry introduces another argument. Get it right? The kid looks kinda offended by that remark (because it's true), as if he hasn't tried to get Sam to warm up to the old man and vice versa.]

He's not that loud.

[Freddy's music on certain mornings is definitely louder. He's sitting up now but not rushing to get his pants on.] So what do you want me to do, get rid of him? You paid off his cage.

[Not to point fingers or anything of course.]

[Okay. Show's over. This was the exact opposite of what it was supposed to go down after the great fucking. Larry takes a grip on Freddy's shoulder even as he's scooting aside.]

I didn't say anything of the sort. Keep your shirt on.

[Like it has been the whole time.]

You're his owner. He likes you best. [And the old man could do without him but he'll be damned if he's gonna say it out loud right now.

Paid for the cage? Yeah. Big deal. It's what the old man does.]

[The grip to his shoulder makes Freddy pause, looking up with eyes that are slightly cooler than the typical caramel apple. It isn't just about the bird, the kid curses his own short sightedness. Would Larry be more at ease with Sam if the bird liked hanging out with both of them? Judging from the way he introduced the toucan to Lawrence Dimick, Freddy figured Sam leaving him alone was ideal.]

Yeah, well. Maybe I saved him from getting stuffed or somethin'.

[Freddy shrugs, inadvertently giving away his want for being some stupid animal's hero. But come on, doesn't anyone question a guy trading in a pet for a car? How can the kid not feel a little guilty spending time with the bird now? Taking the toucan to work, tossing him grapes, just petting him while the TV is on. Larry doesn't not have a problem with the toucan, he just can't put his finger on what. That's what Freddy thinks.]

You don't think I'm spendin' more time with the bird than I am with you, do you? [Honestly?]

[They should ban the words don't get mad from all future conversations. All of them. That spearmint of a cool look that clear takes the old man by surprise. He knew Freddy was hung up on Sam, just goes to show how much. Chances are he was a hero to that bird. Fresh fruit is expensive. The same goes for the cage, for a person who can't pay for a car it wouldn't end well at all.]

I think he knows that or something. He really took to liking you from the beginning. [Larry knows the feeling. This as to be a salvageable night.]

...I can't go to work with you. [Sigh. He goes for a Chesterfield.] Other than that, I guess not know. Not really.

[That'd be a good idea, not that Freddy's the suspicious sort, but really let the record speak for itself. He's scooting to get his pants on anyway because they can't lay naked on the backseat for the rest of the night, the guys doing the detail might pick up on a double load instead of one. Oh but the way the old man says that Freddy just has to look at him. Green eyes are warming up all over again.]

Not all the time.

[He counters, something of a hidden invitation for Larry to visit him at work. The kid's not too sure if the other way around is possible, a floppy haired young guy making nice with casino security? And after what they did to him when they first made contact? Freddy hasn't forgotten Mamba's the one whose men dragged him off the street. Lucky seems like a straight up kind of guy now but Freddy ought to leave that shit to the pros, a pro like Mr. White. He's not undercover anymore.] Hey.

[I'm sorry. For what? Freddy doesn't really fucking know, but he leans over to kiss the corner of that mouth around a Chesterfield.]

[There's ground enough to mentally shake on it. Inhale, exhale. Still feels hot under Larry's skin. It's the agitation now. He doesn't look back into those green eyes just yet. The smoke with the lightening up fog on the windows makes a neat effect.]

Dunno how you'd work around the boss.

[With him there, and they'll have to keep up appearances. Shit with Pink, he's a man that sees enough. How much of it is observation and how much of it is inference? It's no skin off of his nose who they sleep with so long as no one is spilling any of the beans.

Maybe wanting to spend more time, more time than they already do, is asking for too much.

That one word brings brown eyes on him. He doesn't get enough time to pull away his cigarette for that light touch. Hopefully the kid won't go on pulling away because it only takes one movement. Can he have seconds even when he's not a big bird fan? The Dodgers don't live in their house, and it hasn't boiled to that level yet but it comes into the old man's mind along with the notion whatever Freddy wants, chances are the old man is gonna let him have it.]

Edited 2011-04-26 16:12 (UTC)

She likes you, it'd be easy.

[Freddy says against the other man's mouth. He brings his fingers up to stroke through Larry's hair, practically petting him, petting the big old bear. It doesn't escape him that Larry can be a little needy in his own way too. Have another kiss to the corner, tough guy.]

It's cool, dude.

[Right? We're cool? Please say we're cool. Larry won't actively make him throw the bird out then Freddy won't press him for specifics on what he doesn't like about Sam. And no car rides for him. Simple as that.]

I don't want her to get the wrong idea.

[With guys like them there are a lotta wrong ideas to get. The old man could be looking to try again with the lovely lady. Or he's casing the joint upon penalty of death. Or...

Larry lightly shuts his eyes to the touch of that hand and reaches up to pat that vulpine of a dogs jaw. They should head on home. Speaking of work Freddy may be going in the morning. That would have been something to think of before he hijacked him.]

I'm not gonna do nothing to him. Like I said the bird hasn't done me wrong. I didn't quite have many pets at lest pets that were mine in my time so...

[Maybe that's why? We all know he's got a cat tale and nothing against birds that would ever measure up that way.]

[That paw to his jaw feels so nice. If they had to give everything up and live in a fucking car the kid would be okay with it if he could have that paw on him. Mind, that's if he had to give up everything. Given a choice? Well, let's not go back to the business of getting out of this town and getting back to LA.

Freddy thinks about telling Larry he's kind of certain she won't get the wrong idea but maybe that's best left up to himself. After all he didn't confirm Saya's suspicion so. It's all good. Now it's the kid's turn to get a cigarette out, lighting up a simple Marlboro. It's got nothing on the class and unfiltered taste of a Chesterfield but it's Newendyke-like.]

I didn't have any. Three kids under one roof? No way were my folks gonna let us keep a pet.

[Lawrence Dimick already gave up so much. Whatever else seems trivial to hold back. They know each other so damn well. Fuck, he's fallen like a ton of bricks.]

You have a one or two story?

[Everything is as it should be then. The kid's ease into the next conversation proves it. And the old man feels proud of himself for not shying away for the sake of keepin' the peace in his hot car. The big pad of Larry's thumb smooths over Freddy's eyebrow before retreating with the rest into his hair.]

Either way, sounds like your folks felt like there were enough animals around.

One story.

[Further pawing gets green eyes to halflid from feeling so damn good under his hand. Freddy exhales through his nose.] Yeah I'll bet.

[He actually laughs over that assessment, because it's so true.]

Kids you know? Screamin' and runnin' all over.

[Freddy was no doubt like that. Larry was in his time too. Just what kids too, real ones. Not like the one sitting near him. More pawing, all above the belt. Idle touching because he fucking can. Larry straightens his shirt, combs his hair this way and that. It is pretty damn long.]

I had a dog. Big oaf of a thing. His name was Truck. I didn't give it to him.

[Touching above the belt is good. His jeans are on but the fly and button are still undone. Snort. Freddy laughs and no it's not because Larry had a dog it's because even though he didn't name it the name fits a Dimick dog perfectly.]

Before or after you jumped out of the pitbull pit?

[Don't think he hasn't been listening. He still remembers many of the old man's stories. They're unforgettable.]

Before.

[Nose to nose he's got to kiss again. Hearing that someone listens and knows his past too so it's not some distant place in his mind.]

It's easy with just one. Truck was easy going and never meant any harm. We played ball.

[What else are a boy and a dog supposed to do.]

The place I was at had dog liking people. Except they were movin' out of state and turned out there was something with the paperwork. Fuck if I know how the whole deal works. They were off to Montana.

[Smoothing down his shirt. Yep. Pants still undone though, that mean anything? Larry takes one last long drag from his Chesterfield before tossing it out the window.]

[Freddy holds his cigarette aside for that kiss. Truck. He's imagining a dog as bearish as Lawrence Dimick himself. A real big buddy, and loving too cause most dogs raised right love everyone. Playing ball though, that makes Freddy think of Sam. Sam can catch grapes?]

Sorry, about the dog. [Er. He adds more.] About the paperwork.

[Freddy's never had to deal with the system, with fosters. Hell he's barely done it as a cop, pulling in wayward children or keeping them protected during a domestic. Once the call's over where the kids go is out of his hands. As for his pants, it means he's feeling lazy which also doubles for feeling comfortable. It's a good thing, Mr. White.]

[Can birds be taught to play catch? That is truly the question. Though the old man's mind is far, far away from Sam. He's remembering how rough dirty fur felt when he tried to push off a long dripping tongue.]

Thanks. [If he were a more downtrodden slob, Larry'd think that every good thing will leave in the end. Thinking like that means that no one ever keeps a good thing. How can he explain Freddy and the diamonds though? There are always bumps in the road, he guesses.]

...you ever try to keep a pet anyway?

[Ain't that the truth? Freddy doesn't have similar thoughts either, he's got some faith in somehow keeping this together whether or not it's better for him in the long run. Lawrence Dimick makes a stupid kid who went by Orange of all names feel so much better.]

Naw, I tried to adopt a squirrel once. You know like to see if it would come back to the same spot on the same tree every day? [He waves his cigarette hand.] Didn't work.

[Another pull of his smoke, then Freddy's sitting up straighter to turn towards Larry.] This one call I was on, back when I was a boot, we lit up a car that belonged to the girlfriend of a wanted toerag. She kinda looked relieved to see us. The toerag was in the car of course. So we made it look like a routine traffic stop, "Did you know your right brake light is out?" "No I did not sir now get the fuck out of my fuckin' face, pig." He didn't say it like that but you know that's what he was thinkin'.

[Tapping ash out the window.] While my FTO was handling the fucker I was on the girl's side. I hear this crying coming from the car, kinda like somethin' was tucked up in the seat or whatever. It sounded like a fuckin' baby and I knew it was comin' from the dash so I asked to see the glove box. She looked like she was gonna do it but the cocksucker just gave her this killer stare. So, I reach in to pop the box open myself and this thing rolls out. The perp books it right away and the girl starts screamin'. My FTO took the guy down real quick, made it look so damn easy. Anyway turns out the guy stuffed the pet ferret in the box. Little fella was okay though. I thought about taking him in as evidence you know, then skim a little bit off the top for myself but those things have rabies or something I don't know. I let Animal Control take it.

[Freddy shrugs. Just another failed pet story. It'd be so much easier to keep a beast, like Ace or Krypto.]

[If it feels so good who is to say that it isn't? That's not the logic of a dummy but a person who wants so badly to be happy in life. This same person is leaning in hearing these gems.]

Woah. Woah. A fucking ferret? Jesus Christ. I thought those were illegal? [Then again in the arms of criminals, go figure right on over there Dimick. He waves off his own question through the laughter.] Fuck man, rodents are inherently vicious. Thank god you weren't rabid or nothing after that. One bite and that's it.

[To emphasize bite he squeezes on the kid's earlobe. Fooling around.]

Like Cujo.

[Failed story or not the old man loves em. Hell, even the ones with other cops.]

A fuckin' ferret. [Freddy confirms with another grin--hey hey now. He bats that paw off his ear with ease. Nothing violent of course.] Don't ask me I just cuff'em.

[That's a joke Lawrence Dimick, don't read too much into it. Freddy's not gonna cut the cop part out of his life anymore than Larry can cut the criminal part out of his life. Funny how in this city they both have something to hide and don't much share it with anyone else but each other. In Newendyke's case, he's still Orange to everyone but Larry. Only one person knows he's a cop--uh, three actually--and only one person really knows who is Freddy Newendyke.]

I'm no Cujo. [As in a drooling St. Bernard mess...however the kid's not the proper stature to be a Cujo either.]

[Yeah well paws don't wanna go anywhere else.]

Sure, sure, Sheriff. [They're laying off the nose. How about that? Mussing up his hair however.]

Back up a little. How are you so certain you're not? I mean, rabid naw. Or else you'd be making a meal out of me. I'm looking besides that. Though I seen you pant all wide mouth, howling too.

[That'd make the two of them. Paws are still on you Freddy, Larry moves in the back seat. Still a comfy place to stay, this beautiful car. And it's not no hot blazing summer in Castle Rock.]

[Floppy hair gets mussed floppily, there's just no way to stop that from happening. Freddy takes the last pull on his cigarette before putting it out.]

I can make a meal outta you.

[The kid says with all the coolness of a wifebeater leather jacket wearing new guy on the up and up, under a pair of paws. He's looking at Larry now as if daring him to argue otherwise. What's the plan for tomorrow again? Another spin before getting the car detailed? Maybe he'll corner the old man in the john with all the weight of four LA County sheriffs and a german shepherd.]

Don't be biding off more than you can chew.

[There we go. Mr. White can see some teeth in this fox hound. Brown eyes look over his face feeling combative and thrilled all at fucking once. He leans in for a rough kiss to taste the fullness of his cigarette on his tongue before pulling away.]

Wanna head on home now, tough guy? We can take it in to get her all cleaned up tomorrow.

I wou--

[Whoops there goes that word, swallowed whole by another mouth laced with Chesterfield. Freddy meets the kiss head one, so close it almost threatens to give him another hard one. Whew, breathe tough guy. He's gonna take that as some sort of acceptance for his thinly veiled challenge.]

Okay. [Freddy relents, giving another nod before scurrying into the front seat. And not without a medium-firm step on Larry's knee to get there.]

log post II

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