orangetoughguy | log post II

Can't blame a guy for trying.

[The half finished Chesterfield meets the pavement and is crushed out by one of those fine Italian loafers. Off he goes. Speed is not on the old man's side. There's their building. Even though Larry wants to turn to look how far away the kid is, he steels himself. That'll only slow him down. Ears open he can hear footsteps. Book it, old man. Pretend this is football and your delaying the tackle.]

[Right through the lobby doors like it's no thing.

The kid is stalking, on the prowl, the guard at the desk just thinks they're weird. Oh yeah there are rumors but an apartment's an apartment and happy tenants make a guard's life easier. Better get that elevator, Dimick, or is he gonna take the stairs?]

[Pant. Pant. He wants to take the elevator but then wouldn't the chase be over? Stairs or elevator? Larry bites the bullet and makes his way up the stairs.

The guard gets a wave and onward he goes. Chances are there is talk. After all, he and his alternate see them about every time. Though no one has any proof. The old man and kid could be European. They're a damn handsy, strange folk.

Oh shit. There is the kid.]

[Freddy keeps his mouth shut until they're well within...the well. Up and up he goes, menacing turning into humor for a moment.]

Man don't you watch scary movies? Never run upstairs.

[Up and up the kid goes. His legs may be shorter but Freddy Newendyke is acquainted with vaulting steps. Really this is kind of a broken chase; Lawrence Dimick outruns the law with ease on a regular basis. Though he doesn't think Larry is slowing down significantly for his benefit either. And here's their floor.]

Cuz the elevator's so secure?

[Beasts like the one on his tail could cut the wiring and send him down the shaft. No pun intended. Though one thing is sure he's gonna end up screwed.

Key out, the old man steps back facing the menace.]

This where we'll do our stand off...or the roof?

[Stand off like he stands a chance. Mr. White knows the score. The surprise dinner, paying for it no less...]

[Now Larry's on the right track. Surprise dinner, paying for it, getting chased down, working up a light sweat, the kid has only two words for Lawrence Dimick. These hands paw at his blazer to pull them up close, face to face.]

Get inside.

[There's still breath in his lungs and plenty of fight left. That doesn't mean he'll win. His lip curls back in a silent growl. Reaching behind he turns the lock and fumbles with the knob. Snap snap like he means to bite that exquisite nose.]

You won't take me alive.

Wanna bet?

[Again with the hands around his midsection, except this time they're trying to pull his clothes apart. Home sweet fucking home all over again. Awk. Oops, quiet quiet, don't rouse the toucan. He bites at Larry's neck oh so silently.]

[A mouth full of protesting words and it's gone, fucking stolen from him. Sure his skin isn't breaking but the damage to his demeanor is severe. Larry might not recover. Freddy's coming on like a hurricane. The old man feels swept up.]

Fuck!

[Hissed softly. That awk wasn't at full volume either. Did those flappy hands turn into claws? Because his shirt is pulled up out of his pants and buttons are hardly fastened--maybe they're pulled apart. Could be his imagination. Larry's own hands are pulling at the kid's belt.]

[Hehehe, oh shit was that a giggle from the kid? Look he can't help trying to hide his amusement over Larry's reaction to his teeth, his hands. Sam's down here though so like the hypocrite he is Freddy starts tugging Larry towards the stairs. Up the steps and don't trip.]

Get in.

[The bathroom. Not the bedroom.]

[Laughing? Pffft. Toucan play at this game, Freddy. Larry shoves the coat off of Freddy's shoulders and claws at his back. His own shirt has to come off right? Buttons to undo. Shoes to move on out of. Whoops, whoops. Where are we goin' now?]

Easier mess to clean up, huh?

[Growl and clawing as he takes a nip of his own at Freddy's ear. He'll let go and fall into step. So there they are now in the bathroom. Larry pushes off to put his back to the wall. The old man loosens his tie panting open mouthed.]

[Tug tug on that ear.] You need a shower anyway.

[He utters that against Larry's skin. Up in the bathroom with the door shut they can make a little more noise. The running water helps filter it out. Somehow Freddy's lost a shoe, his jacket, his shirt, and his belt's loose too. Oh but his tie is still on. Yeah anyway in just a couple more pulls and pushes he manages to get one of them down to their socks and undies of choice.]

Fine.

[Like he's got an idea of refusing. Fat chance. The kid is the alpha calling the shots. The old man's gotta strip now too. Tie on the floor. His shirt is coming undone to barely hang on his body. Now his pants to hang open in the same way.]

Thought you liked it dirty.

Oh we're gonna get dirty, you nasty old fuck.

[Another nip and he's forcing those pants down. Hanging open isn't even halfway towards what Freddy plans to do to Larry. After some blind reaching he's got the shower running full too, warm water to get the mirrors slowly steaming.]

I just gotta get you good enough to eat.

[Tugging off the last bits of fabric he urges Larry to go in first.] Clean up, I want to watch.

[Bare naked as the day he was born now he playfully shoves Freddy off to step in.]

Clean your food before you eat it. I get it. [Water hits his chest, it's warm and getting hotter by the second. Larry looks over his shoulder purposely reaching this way for the soap.] Greedy piece of shit.

[He puts the bar to his skin and starts to lather up.]

Just gonna stand there?

[Oof. Freddy leans right back in to catch the action. He's not in the shower but the glass door is open for the full view.]

I like what I like.

[The kid gives a big old shrug, then green eyes are narrowing for the angle, the way the old man starts touching himself. It's such a casual motion, the lathering. Hell they do this every day, how does a man not jump the other every time he sees it? Of course a morning shower before work usually doesn't leave much time for jumping. He starts discarding the rest of his clothes which isn't much, but the tie he saves for last.]

Don't rush me, smartass.

S'all about you.

[Bar over his chest a half a turn and the kid gets an eye full from head to toe. It's on the chilly side with the door wide open. Not enough for it to matter much other than keeping the old man's skin sensitive. Under the bar in his paw on his chest both nipples are more prominent. Toucan play Peeping Tom. Brown eyes are on him as his hand strays downward.]

Says the man who about chased me down.

[Is the kid watching? The old man uses his other hand to follow the bar up and down his shaft. Just a few times all this fast and slow, rough and tough bullshit is getting to him. There's a lotta other parts to wash.]

I paid for dinner. [So it better be all about Freddy Newendyke, as long as it's in good fun for Lawrence Dimick.] That's it, fuck you're gorgeous.

[Goddamn, his green eyes are almost shining with how this feels reminiscent of a locker room and Freddy here's a peeping creep. What was he doing again? Oh right, the tie. He slides the thing off his neck then steps his naked freckled ass into the shower with him. Tie in tow because it's going around Larry's eyes and no the kid doesn't give a crap that it's silk and it's getting wet. It's just a Hermes.]

You sure did, high-roller. Still ain't enough for your appetite.

[Since it all started with feeding a monstrous need.]

What are you gonna do with--?

[On his head, over his eyes. That's about one hundred and ninety dollars worth of wet silk covering his eyes.]

Wash your damn self then.

[Unless he wants Larry to do it on touch alone. It's hard to hear where the kid is with the water running. Should he move.]

[If they don't throw it in the washer and dryer it should be just fine, right? If he has to the kid can pay for those damages. In the meantime though he's looking to make a different kind of damage, the oh so good kind. With Larry unable to see Freddy makes a broad grin, a near goofy kind of kid in a candy store grin.]

Trust me. I'm a professional.

[Freckled hands take the soap only to put it aside while he positions White, hands to the walls, feet shoulder width apart. That's better. Soap in position again the dirty blonde works firmly in all the right places, practically massaging those back muscles first. This close Larry can probably feel how hard he is himself.]

[Aw, he happens to like those broad, goofy grins when he's the candy.]

A professional what?

[Professional bear tamer? That big bare back curves under his hand. A moan slips out to echo against the tile. He doesn't have a tree to rub against though he'll try and rub up on Freddy.]

A lion tamer, what do you think? [Fff. Smartass. Just for that he delivers a hard smack to the old man's rear followed by a firm clutch which turns into fingers sliding between.] Are you gonna keep on givin' me lip? Huh?

[Can Larry be as bold with the kid getting inside him, just one for now. Freddy props his chin on a broad shoulder.] Well?

Professional [voice tight, oh damn he has to swallow hard] ...a professional son of a bitch. [Damn there was no time at all and the kid is right there to the knuckle.]

I know what you want me for.

[A shaky breath out and a quick inhale.]

...so is uh...that it?

..........

[Right. He's totally asking for it and Freddy here, well he's lucky Freddy's just fucking dying to give it. A second finger works its way in but only for three quick thrusts, then the kid stills his hand, fingers curled to press right up against his prostate.]

Smartass. Back it up a bit.

[A little guidance here has Orange easing White back a few inches, enough to keep the old man's hands still on the shower tiles but bent enough that water falls on his back and slides right down to his rear. He pulls his fingers out.]

Nnnh! [Nope. Not all by a long shot. The three passes feel like the kid is trying to pry him open. The old man widens his stance and tries to keep on riding his fingers. It takes everything in him to not moan out too loudly when his prostate is touched directly. Now he has to follow directions? A half a step and he pauses.]

That good?

[Just when he's preparing himself for another onslaught he feels that hand pull away. No. Wait. Not yet.]

The fuck are you doing?

[Huff. Huff. And he can't see.]

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