orangetoughguy | log post II

[That there is a stone wall resistance. The old man threads his big fingers together. Well, he started it. May as well start it right and completely. He'll go out on a limb for the kid gladly.]

I wanna say that...

[His forehead itches. It's not nerves.]

I never thought I'm the marrying type. [Not no more at least. Man woman thing doesn't work. The man man thing is okay. Marriage though that ruins people. Looking into the young man's face he tries to keep a gauge on everything. This is upsetting to the both of them.]

So it's hard for me to believe that I'd go about that at all. I want to ask if that's how it would go down on your end if I pulled that on you.

Pulled what on me? [Freddy asks incredulously. He can't believe his ears. Well more like he can believe his ears, he just doesn't want to hear it.]

Ask me if I wanna move down to South America and live in a fuckin' villa? What do you expect me to say? [Oh shit Newendyke, your voice is doing that reedy thing.]

Woah. Woah. Hey.

[Both hands up now to try and stop this kind of a start.]

I mean if I asked that we get hitched and I wanted to spend out or days settled like that.

[Which still sounds as though he's making a poor decision seeking to talk it out. If they stop now it won't get resolved.]

[Calm down, Newendyke, just calm down. Chill out.]

Why do you wanna know? Jesus Christ, Larry, you don't think that's fuckin' unfair to ask me? [Bring it back, bring it back, man. He rubs between his eyes and down to his nose.]

So in case I get stupid like that I know what to expect. I don't plan on doin' you wrong like that. I just wanna know what I'd be in for. And maybe [huff puff] it'd be heads up for you too. It ain't our doing. It's the fucking City bullshit.

[Though who can say how much of it is what's in them.]

[What? He laughs at the thought and it's not a humorous laugh either.]

Do you seriously think I'd have any idea what'll happen when there's City bullshit goin' on? How the fuck do you know you're gonna remember? How the fuck do I know, Larry.

[From laughter to desperation. Freddy's looking at Larry like he's backed in a corner.]

I got a feeling okay? I don't know for sure but I gotta hunch.

[How can this all fade away so fucking quick. Look at what they got. Look at what they've been through.

Freddy's bristling so damn much. It makes his heart sink. Maybe it is wrong to give too much weight to these curses.]

[A feeling....that makes his heart sink just as deep. How? Why? Freddy doesn't think he's ready for that at all, even when it's just some stupid city episode. Furthermore, how can Larry want something like that from him so soon? Flowers are one thing, but that...a fucking hacienda or villa. He can't handle it.]

Fine. No. The answer's no.

[He's being honest here, honest and sincere. Right now at this very moment Freddy Newendyke can't fathom committing to such a degree, not even as a city sham.]

Okay.

[The old bear has gotta let up. It is too much. Too much too fucking soon. Standing up he nods and looks to the kid then the toucan.]

That's all.

[To the kitchen he goes. It's not a retreat it's finished though. The kid don't want a new life complete with a ball and chain.]

.......

[Walking away? Just like that? He'll be damned if that means it's 'okay' for fuck's sake. The kid can't help but stare as the old man leaves. To him it's like seeing Larry turn his back on him, turn away and inward because it's not okay. He's a cop, he's a crook, for all they know they have unfinished business in LA, and Lawrence Dimick's turning away because Freddy doesn't feel like he can run off together.]

You fucking ass. [Freddy utters, not at all trying to keep it to himself, but it comes out quiet.] Sam. Get inside.

[Papaya--what's left of it--in hand, he goes over to the cage to get the bird locked in. Even the toucan seems a little anxious. Hop. Hop hop. Slow hopping up to the cage door.]

[The faucet water runs. Old ears can hear him talking. He switches off the water and just listens. Talkin' to the bird, the bird getting in his cage. Larry turns and takes a sip of water.

So they won't be getting away together. It's a fact to face. Right? Right? That's the fact. It's what they've known and have been wrestling with all along. Now he's the one doing the watching.]

[E-ee-e-e-e? Damn, stupid animal making him feel bad. Freddy gives the toucan a couple light pats to the head. Stupid bird didn't do anything wrong but he's gonna lock Sam up for now. Click.

Then there are heavy footsteps briskly padding towards a damn bear in the kitchen. No running away together, not now anyway. Freddy wishes he could say differently but he can't; wanting to be with him is one thing, wanting to be with him like that is another. How can a hypothetical situation get his blood boiling so much? It's because he knows it's what Larry wants and it seems to him it's the only way Larry will accept. The kid doesn't even say a word before his fist is swinging out hard and fast for the old man's cheek.]

[Brown eyes follow from the cage and over. He knew that the guy was angry. How angry he didn't know. And if he did he didn't have any inkling it'd be close to this. The old man would have put the glass down. It doesn't go flying but it hits against the cabinet taking a good chip out of it. Most of the water gets on the old man and the counter top. His face stays in the direction of the well laid hit only until he sets the glass down.

Head turns slowly. His jaw clenches and unclenches as he processes the sting.]

You got somethin' to say, say it.

[Larry's own anger is now spiking. What the flying fuck did he do wrong trying to get something cleared out. Nobody said he'd get a good answer, one that he wanted. The kid's got is own goddamn life.]

[Shit that bear's got a strong steel trap jaw, not that this surprises Freddy. He knew it would hurt his fist as much. He shakes out his own paw a little but the words come quickly as soon as Larry tells him to say it.]

Do you think I'm fuckin' stupid? Like I'm fuckin' naive enough to believe "Oh it's just in case, in case of more bullshit." You think I don't know it means a little more than that to you? Like I wasn't there when you blew people away for me? [Oh yeah, he'll bring that up now. His hands are moving.] D'you think I don't care about it? Cause not wanting more than everything we already got means I don't want anymore to do with you? You motherfucker.

[He looks like he's about to retreat himself only to lean in again.] You make me feel like shit cause I don't fit in to what you've got all planned out or down on your fuckin' lists. Like I'm not thinkin' enough or I don't care enough. I'm fuckin' tired of tellin' you I'm so damned sorry I don't know what I want or I don't know what I'm gonna do. I'm so damned sorry I can't keep up with you.

[Look at that, no toucan. Sam's gone to hide in the little log nest, not liking the noise.]

And I'm sorry I wasn't real sweet over Paris, I'm sorry I lied about the diamonds, I'm sorry I wanted to see other people, and I'm sorry I'm a fuckin' cop.

You honestly fucking think that I got a plan for what's to come? I don't, kid. I got ideas and they're nothin' right now but ideas. Feels like we'll get out of here, that we'll remember. Do I know we're goin' right back to LA? Not a fucking chance.

[That's something he can say solidly right now.]

I'm not asking you for jack shit right now.

[Woah. Larry's eying his hands in case if he's raring to make this fight into a fight. The verbal blows alone smart. Paris was sensitive but nowhere near as much as the kid's desire to see other people. Why the fuck is that relevant to this very moment now? Ain't it all behind them?

And then the killing.]

Why and the hell do you believe that I feel like you don't care enough? I know all you're dealin' with. All of it. Y'don't got to apologize either. Fucking shit.

[As he's talking he can feel his face still stinging.]

Stop acting like it's all bad, like I'm gonna fuck you over. I'm not. Can you get that through your thick skull?

[A big thick pointer points at that noggin.]

[No fights here. Not yet anyway, but he'll swat that pointing finger aside.]

Because you walk away! You walk away from me every time! You walked away now, for fuck's sake you walked away last week. [What do you expect from a rambling man, an ex-con-now-fugitive. Fuck don't think that way, Newendyke. Freddy shakes his head.] You turn around like it ain't no thing when I know that's bullshit, it hurts you.

[There's emphasis there because Freddy's fairly sure if Larry didn't want him to know he's hurt then Freddy would never ever know. Mr. White is a fucking professional.] Why does it hurt you, huh? Because it's not what you want or because it's not how you thought I'd be, huh?

[He's getting face to face with the other man, far within fists' reach though they aren't flying yet.]

[DING! If this were a carnival test of strength that Freddy has to get a rise out of the old man he'd have himself a big ol' prize.

Larry's toe to toe and his voice is far louder than it should be for a calm, collected conversation. Oh wait. That's not what it's become.]

What the fuck am I supposed to do? Huh? Beat a dead horse?

[Huff, puff. His face feels red and that's not because of the smack in the face.]

It's not what you want. I'm not gonna force you into anything you don't want or you're not ready for. No fucking boxes here, pal! It hurts because I know full fucking well I am never gonna be some stainless, straight and narrow. And even if I was that's not the kinda bright and rosy world we live in.

[Not like here. Then again, fucking shit town showing glimpses of things that can't be.]

[What the fuck is he supposed to do? Freddy feels too proud (or foolish) to say he'd like for nothing more than to have Larry rub his paw over his head and tell him it's all right, that it's gonna be okay, and that he's not rotten for thinking or feeling differently. Is he rotten? Is the kid a poor insensitive fuck up for telling him no? The more this goes on, the harder it is for him to imagine changing his own answer or that his answer can be changed at all.]

I don't want you to be some stainless straight and narrow fuck!

[He'd be sucking on therapist cock if that were the case, he'd be with a woman if he wanted an easy normal way of life, be there but empty for her. Be a good cop without any heart left to get the job done and done right. Easy and by the book. Except that wouldn't be easy at all would it? Freddy's not truly happy not being himself, no matter how much he's been taught differently.] I just want--

[Suddenly the kid's losing steam, he chokes. He licks over his dry lips, averting his greener gaze. Those sour apples have never lit up with more life for a person than for Mr. White, but it's not so simple to say "Yes, I'd run away with you." Freddy breathes quietly.] I gotta get outta here for a little while.

[It would be easy if Larry were an ordinary chump except ordinary chumps don't go in on diamond heists. And if they did they're not alive long enough to try and save a fallen comrade's life. Hearing that is not what the kid wants takes the piss out of the old man. A little.

What does he want? What the fuck does he want? After the cross business, Larry knows far better to to be asking way too many questions. It isn't enough that he's confronted with the curse matter, this now though? This cannot rest.]

Don't go running now too.

[Taking a risk for another hit, Larry reaches out to take a grip on his arm.]

We're in this right here. I don't want to have to pull it all out more than it has to be.

[Voice is stern but not shouting.]

[Freddy doesn't swing again to hit Larry but he does shake and twist his arm like he's trying to get away. It's an instinctive reaction, not wanting to be touched by the one person who comes closest to being able to make Freddy Newendyke do almost anything for him. Almost.

He doesn't say anything more to that stern voice, the firm statement. Orange still can't look at him, Freddy can't look at him without feeling like his is the lightly freckled face of a screw up, a coward. But he doesn't try to flee his grip. Hell, where would he go anyway except walking alone?]

[Silence hurts too. Larry can't express that yet. Sometimes he feels like he's a menopausal bitch. All these fucking emotions coming out in a big, big way and with someone to articulate them too that don't think less of his masculinity. Fuck man.]

Hey. Come on now.

[It's a soft murmur. His arm slides down and his arms wrap around the kid whether he likes it or not. No other words to say but hold him. That's all the can do right now. Now is all that they got. Fuck tomorrow.]

Shit...

[Freddy utters, quietly again but not under his breath. He's caught in those thick arms, caught in a wildcat's clutches. This man would be happy running away together to a hacienda in some Latin American country. Cut off from his old life, maybe for Larry it's harder to imagine. Freddy's never told him he's thought about glimpses of a possible future too, has he? One where his mom and sister are fucking charmed out of their minds by Lawrence Dimick, much to Freddy's boyish disgust (and secret pride). He could never tell him, how? His hands fall low on Larry's waist.]

[Brief closed lipped kisses for each temple before just holding onto him. He thought about it, of course he thought about what it would be like day to day if they were on their own against the world away from the law that Freddy enforces and that Larry runs from. Nobody knows what'll happen. Larry doesn't even know if he would ever extend that kind of an offer. He wets his lips.

Nothing can be forced. That's the problem with curses. They'll drop all over a guy, get him twisted then leave them scrambling. Here they are, scrambling.]

It's not your fault, baby. It's not my fault. I didn't ask to get a peek into that. I know you didn't either.

[Those kisses, one to each side, feel so hot to the kid like they might burn him. Is it contradictory to want to be branded Dimick's while being incapable of running away with him at the drop of a hat? Fuck this is exactly what that city shit does, this is exactly what it wants isn't it? Freddy swallows a hardness in his throat.]

I don't know what else to tell you, Larry.

[He whispers, wanting to fix this or do whatever it takes to make it better because being imperfect with Lawrence Dimick is far more preferable to being righteous without him. The kid reaches up to frame where he hit the old man, not touching the mark but still edging around it.]

[Sure it's red and the size of a Freddy paw it isn't as bad as it could have been. Whatever hurt that comes out of the hit is not as hurtful as a fight with his man. He keeps looking into Freddy's face, trying for eye contact.]

Okay, Freddy. That's okay. There ain't much more you can tell me if you dunno.

[Nose hovers at his temple again. What a mess. Sure he wasn't expecting a good and easy conversation, but tis went down too hard and fast in the wrong direction. It's not their fault. He breathes in and out in the moment.]

log post II

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)