[Yes he is. Especially when it comes to Lawrence Dimick. But for emphasis Freddy reaches back to twist his fingers into Larry's hair. This acts as some sort of 'punishing' gesture as well as a way to anchor them together, as if the paws on him weren't already enough. Now the kid can rock his hips back and forth, effectively fucking himself on the other man while fucking his fist.]
I'm gonna come on you.
[He says it loud enough for it to travel on out to the balcony. Freddy doesn't even care if the upstairs has already gone back inside. They're free to be loud considering the price. Is this some form of exhibitionism anyway?]
Oh fuck! [There he goes, writhing and shivering, looking like he might just collapse all over the chair.]
[Protesting doesn't convince at all. A man can't say he's not greedy for semen when he is rocking on a dick. Goddamn, Freddy Newendyke is beautiful like this. Flappy hands twisting into the old man's hair make him feel like he's the horse or donkey or whatever the shit since Freddy's taking himself to his own end practically on his own.]
Get it all the fuck over me. I want your whole damn load.
[They sound like two raging homosexuals, selfish and reckless fucking like wild animals at four in the morning. It feels so free.]
Yes. Yes. There we go, baby. [Both hands go to Freddy's groin, one furiously working his cock and the other cradling and kneading his balls like it'll help pull out more. Naturally there'll be a mess all over his fingers.]
[As long as Larry doesn't say that aloud Freddy won't have more to protest. Greedy for cum and cock? Sure. A raging homo? Uh. Best not to go there, not when the kid's still unready.]
God...
[That's a whine and whimper like he's in pain when his orgasm starts subsiding. Could be the way paws are milking him too which would make him the livestock in this equation right? It doesn't really hurt though and that's the important part. Instead there's a well satiated mess all over those thick fingers and a little bit on the chair. Oops.]
[To be honest, Larry wouldn't consider himself to be raging. He's sure that there's enough cocksucker in him to be homosexual or...whatever. It's their secret.
His pulse is no longer beating in his veins and brain. Woah. Now he's feeling bone tired. Thick fingers slowly let go of the kid and just hold at his hips a moment. No drying them off on his clothes because this is what they wore in. Dry cleaning it is for them.]
Good going, Angel Baby.
[Sugary sweet thing to say when the room is cooling down. Just another tune that hit the air before Freddy was alive. But it's just like heaven being here with him.]
[The tune is lost on the kid but it could be more so that he's recovering from getting fucked than it is his age. He draws his own fingers down and away from Larry's dark hair but not off him just yet. Fingertips run along his jawline.]
Thanks. I had help.
[Deep gasps have turned into slow shallow puffs. His body's cooling down but still warm to the touch. Looking over himself the kid can see those paws and the ivory links attached to his sleeves. Cuffs of a different sort.]
So was this...a morning fuck? [Considering the time and all. It's not really an important question, Freddy's just curious.]
Okay. [He nods, palm cupping even as he nips. It's the contact that counts and this compensates for the loss between his thighs. Freddy groans first then it turns into a low hiss when he's left feeling empty.]
Breakfast fuck huh? Fair enough.
[Where's the bed? Oh right in another room. Freddy needs a breather even though they've had rougher, longer, fucks. Something about where they are and what they've experienced up until this point is overwhelming. The kid chooses to sit on the floor, plush and soft as it is since they paid for top of the line amenities anyway.]
They should have one of those big open buffets right?
[There'll be a lot more touching before the night...day...morning...is truly out. Since they're apart the old man moves to the bathroom. It is big enough to be someone's room in a motel with the way the mirrors are. Both hands cleaned he then wets a cloth. Water feels particularly cool on his hot skin.
He'll share the wealth. When he comes back into the room his eyes move to the bed, the chair and then finally finds the kid on the floor. A whole damn expensive room and he sits on the floor. It makes the old man want to give him more rich, expensive shit so he can do whatever he pleases with it.]
They should. They better.
[The old man knows he'll be hungry, Freddy may be starving by then.
Paws take the cloth from toucan grade nose to balls cleaning where the kid needs it. Oh and touching because he can without the frenzy and build up of not one but three very risque shows.]
[Hey the floor is convenient and comfortable, why wouldn't he pick the floor? Freddy can sit up or lie down or roll over onto his stomach and not kick any furniture while he's at it. Lots of space to use mmkay. Maybe he's getting an idea of how many ways they can fuck on the floor after brunch. Presents from Lawrence Dimick though? The kid can't refuse, he's given him some really good ones before.]
I'm hopin' with lots of pancakes and bacon and waffles.
[Not that Freddy's hungry right now or anything. Oof. He tries to look indignant while getting wiped down like some kind of dirty dog but really Orange is smiling. He loves being touched by White, who knew they could be so fucking made for each other.]
You look good. [He adds as he widens his thighs to make his work easier. The kid's talking about wearing just the shirt and cuffs of course.]
[The carpet is comfortable. Soft even. Any carpet sitting with Freddy is a magic carpet ride.]
If it ain't here there'll be one on the town. [That he doesn't even need to promise. That's how it is. Now that they're as clean as they're gonna get for dirty dogs, the old man starts to take off the cuffs for Freddy in the same easy, casual manner that he took them off.]
[Freddy argues in an equally casual manner even as he offers both hands to make removal of those cuffs easier. After the cuffs comes the shirt which he unceremoniously tosses aside. Expensive clothing is still just that; clothing. And it's not like it's torn or anything.]
Is it made out of clouds or somethin'?
[He uses Larry to pull himself up to his own feet too.]
[Right. Whatever that means. Freddy knows it all amounts to something luxurious and expensive which is fine when Larry can afford it. Are they still technically maintaining separate expenses? It's all kind of odd to live with a felon like they've been doing for the past year.]
I'll take your word for it--
[Oof. He stumbles onto the bed, green eyes narrowing for the shove. In retaliation he tugs Larry onto the bed and into an immediate roll so Freddy can wind up half on top of him.]
Yeah cause I got plans for you. [Orange gives a firm near sloppy kiss to the jaw.]
[Breathy laughter is interrupted by the wrestling, then the kiss.]
There's a lot to look forward to.
[Paws move up his spine slow and easy before he rolls to pin the man under him.]
Any shows? Ones you mighta missed?
[An arcade? Now he's getting excited underneath his wave of sleepiness. Sorry Freddy, he's got to move away to pull back the blankets. Don't worry though. He intends to pull him under like he's a dog with a bone.]
[Freddy says in a matter of fact manner before he's flipped onto his own back. Fff. It's fast and firm enough he has no time to fight back (as if he really wants to anyway).]
I gotta think about that one.
[The kid doesn't say he has a mind to orchestrate his own show for two, let that be a surprise for the old man.]
[Walking the Strip even in the daytime is enjoyable. Behind his sunglasses Larry freely looks at all the glitz of gems and outfits....and opportunities he won't act on. Some people really should not talk about what they brought with em so loudly. The walk is just what the old bear needs to walk off that breakfast buffet.
It's all worth being here longer. Even the late checkout fee. And the dry cleaning bill. Suits are just as well kept when delivered back to them. Like anybody'd notice.]
I gotta tell you, some of these casinos I don't recognize.
[Freddy remarks, hands in his pockets. Is it still suit attire time or is it okay to walk around in jeans and a t-shirt like a tourist or a transplant from Reno yet? Either way, these flappy hands are tucked away except to remove a cigarette when he talks.]
It's okay we can't all be kings of Sin City, not even you.
[Because it's not the real Vegas Mr. White knows or else Orange here could be eating his words on top of that buffet. He doesn't doubt in Vegas--the Vegas they know--this man probably has a connection on a couple blocks.]
Tch. [A shove for you, Mr. Orange. Yeah. They can go casual. No problem at all.] I know it's been a while...and I know it is what it is. C'mon.
[There's an issue of pride. He's a prideful old man. So he may not be a king. How about a lord or a White knight? Knights don't have connections a man can count on both hands in a questionable city.]
Okay, Joker. Since we're here...you feel lucky? Think they gotta have some slots worth visiting.
[Oof. The shove doesn't send him over a curb or anything but it sure gets the kid moving. And laughing.]
I know you know I'm just sayin' the planet's gotten bigger since I Love Lucy.
[Knocking Larry's age is okay right? Because Freddy likes him that way so it should be no thing for a joker, a jester if they want to go by court metaphors. Maybe Larry's a mercenary, and don't the Japanese have a word for a warrior without a lord? That's what Larry would be to him. Oh ho green eyes narrow upon hearing what he's pretty sure is a challenge.]
No shit, Sherlock. Lucy's small fish. The world's bigger since you came around too. I'm sure you find that hard to believe.
[Another shove, not so rough. Freddy'll no doubt recognize it's the old man wanting a little more contact because he can. Except it's a street not a lower balcony.]
Let's go on in and enjoy the air conditioning. Maybe make a buck after you loose three.
[Better than Larry can at least, or so he thinks so there. Oof. Freddy recognizes that need for more contact however subtle because sometimes he gets that feeling too although pushing and nudging each other is preferable to holding hands in public. Sorry old man, the kid's got to accept a couple things about himself before that can ever be a reality.]
Oh yeah? If I make more money at any table you owe me a drink.
[Challenge on, Mr. White. But 'any table' is a necessary handicap because this is Lawrence Dimick versus Freddy Newendyke at old school gambling. Realistically the kid doesn't stand a chance and this ain't baseball or Traveller or Guess Who.]
I know how to use the internet and learned how to use a cellular phone. Anything you can do [pointing at that schnoz] I can do [thick thumb pointing at himself] better.
[A friendly challenge. That's the reality. He would love to hold this man's hand out in the open. Because their wants, those kinds of wants, haven't been talked about Larry believes the kid wants the same. Sometimes he takes for granted how much distance the kid has covered in his personal journey. People say too much, too fast can leave a person not completely sorted out.]
Fine. And if you make more money at any table you owe me a drink. Something from the bar. Maybe a mojito.
[Pointing at his toucan-like bill gets a snort out of the kid. For all the lack of handholding this kind of exchange is just as intimate and affectionate despite the challenges laid down.]
Deal.
[Then he looks up at the chosen place. Of course, a Roman affair as the kid walks into the arena ready to play some gladiator games with the big dogs, or big dog in this case.] You first.
[He gestures for Larry to enter because age before beauty.]
[Open paw and grinning because he's a smug sun of a gun at this game. Freddy is equally matched in that way. They're evenly matched for being so different. That's just how it goes though, ain't it?]
You wanna fly solo and we'll meet up in an hour? Maybe the bar by the pool. You gotta find your own trunks.
[Separate accounts but it always ends up that whatever is purchased is shared from flowers to comics.]
[Flappy hand to open paw is the closest they'll get to holding hands in public right now but he shakes on it gladly.]
Fine that's fair.
[He agrees because seriously White and Orange at the same table wouldn't end well, possibly for anyone else at the table. Freddy looks at his watch to double check the time then he looks up at Larry again.]
Don't stand me up if you don't got anything. [Talk about cocky.]
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[Yes he is. Especially when it comes to Lawrence Dimick. But for emphasis Freddy reaches back to twist his fingers into Larry's hair. This acts as some sort of 'punishing' gesture as well as a way to anchor them together, as if the paws on him weren't already enough. Now the kid can rock his hips back and forth, effectively fucking himself on the other man while fucking his fist.]
I'm gonna come on you.
[He says it loud enough for it to travel on out to the balcony. Freddy doesn't even care if the upstairs has already gone back inside. They're free to be loud considering the price. Is this some form of exhibitionism anyway?]
Oh fuck! [There he goes, writhing and shivering, looking like he might just collapse all over the chair.]
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Get it all the fuck over me. I want your whole damn load.
[They sound like two raging homosexuals, selfish and reckless fucking like wild animals at four in the morning. It feels so free.]
Yes. Yes. There we go, baby. [Both hands go to Freddy's groin, one furiously working his cock and the other cradling and kneading his balls like it'll help pull out more. Naturally there'll be a mess all over his fingers.]
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God...
[That's a whine and whimper like he's in pain when his orgasm starts subsiding. Could be the way paws are milking him too which would make him the livestock in this equation right? It doesn't really hurt though and that's the important part. Instead there's a well satiated mess all over those thick fingers and a little bit on the chair. Oops.]
I'm fuckin' spent.
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His pulse is no longer beating in his veins and brain. Woah. Now he's feeling bone tired. Thick fingers slowly let go of the kid and just hold at his hips a moment. No drying them off on his clothes because this is what they wore in. Dry cleaning it is for them.]
Good going, Angel Baby.
[Sugary sweet thing to say when the room is cooling down. Just another tune that hit the air before Freddy was alive. But it's just like heaven being here with him.]
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Thanks. I had help.
[Deep gasps have turned into slow shallow puffs. His body's cooling down but still warm to the touch. Looking over himself the kid can see those paws and the ivory links attached to his sleeves. Cuffs of a different sort.]
So was this...a morning fuck? [Considering the time and all. It's not really an important question, Freddy's just curious.]
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I'm gonna pull out.
[Hopefully he won't keel over. That's what he feels like he could do.]
Breakfast. [The bear growls regretting the removal but there's no way the'll sleep like this.] So we can sleep in I guess until lunch.
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Breakfast fuck huh? Fair enough.
[Where's the bed? Oh right in another room. Freddy needs a breather even though they've had rougher, longer, fucks. Something about where they are and what they've experienced up until this point is overwhelming. The kid chooses to sit on the floor, plush and soft as it is since they paid for top of the line amenities anyway.]
They should have one of those big open buffets right?
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He'll share the wealth. When he comes back into the room his eyes move to the bed, the chair and then finally finds the kid on the floor. A whole damn expensive room and he sits on the floor. It makes the old man want to give him more rich, expensive shit so he can do whatever he pleases with it.]
They should. They better.
[The old man knows he'll be hungry, Freddy may be starving by then.
Paws take the cloth from toucan grade nose to balls cleaning where the kid needs it. Oh and touching because he can without the frenzy and build up of not one but three very risque shows.]
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I'm hopin' with lots of pancakes and bacon and waffles.
[Not that Freddy's hungry right now or anything. Oof. He tries to look indignant while getting wiped down like some kind of dirty dog but really Orange is smiling. He loves being touched by White, who knew they could be so fucking made for each other.]
You look good. [He adds as he widens his thighs to make his work easier. The kid's talking about wearing just the shirt and cuffs of course.]
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If it ain't here there'll be one on the town. [That he doesn't even need to promise. That's how it is. Now that they're as clean as they're gonna get for dirty dogs, the old man starts to take off the cuffs for Freddy in the same easy, casual manner that he took them off.]
Nothin' out of the ordinary, tough guy.
[Both cuffs off.]
Let's test out that bed.
[For sleeping.]
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[Freddy argues in an equally casual manner even as he offers both hands to make removal of those cuffs easier. After the cuffs comes the shirt which he unceremoniously tosses aside. Expensive clothing is still just that; clothing. And it's not like it's torn or anything.]
Is it made out of clouds or somethin'?
[He uses Larry to pull himself up to his own feet too.]
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No. But I'm pretty sure it's goose down and Egyptian cotton. I forgot to order satin.
[...Larry could be kidding.]
It's a worthy vessel for dreamland.
[Shove for the kid to get him on it.]
Better rest up for tomorrow.
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I'll take your word for it--
[Oof. He stumbles onto the bed, green eyes narrowing for the shove. In retaliation he tugs Larry onto the bed and into an immediate roll so Freddy can wind up half on top of him.]
Yeah cause I got plans for you. [Orange gives a firm near sloppy kiss to the jaw.]
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There's a lot to look forward to.
[Paws move up his spine slow and easy before he rolls to pin the man under him.]
Any shows? Ones you mighta missed?
[An arcade? Now he's getting excited underneath his wave of sleepiness. Sorry Freddy, he's got to move away to pull back the blankets. Don't worry though. He intends to pull him under like he's a dog with a bone.]
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[Freddy says in a matter of fact manner before he's flipped onto his own back. Fff. It's fast and firm enough he has no time to fight back (as if he really wants to anyway).]
I gotta think about that one.
[The kid doesn't say he has a mind to orchestrate his own show for two, let that be a surprise for the old man.]
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It's all worth being here longer. Even the late checkout fee. And the dry cleaning bill. Suits are just as well kept when delivered back to them. Like anybody'd notice.]
I gotta tell you, some of these casinos I don't recognize.
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[Freddy remarks, hands in his pockets. Is it still suit attire time or is it okay to walk around in jeans and a t-shirt like a tourist or a transplant from Reno yet? Either way, these flappy hands are tucked away except to remove a cigarette when he talks.]
It's okay we can't all be kings of Sin City, not even you.
[Because it's not the real Vegas Mr. White knows or else Orange here could be eating his words on top of that buffet. He doesn't doubt in Vegas--the Vegas they know--this man probably has a connection on a couple blocks.]
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[There's an issue of pride. He's a prideful old man. So he may not be a king. How about a lord or a White knight? Knights don't have connections a man can count on both hands in a questionable city.]
Okay, Joker. Since we're here...you feel lucky? Think they gotta have some slots worth visiting.
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I know you know I'm just sayin' the planet's gotten bigger since I Love Lucy.
[Knocking Larry's age is okay right? Because Freddy likes him that way so it should be no thing for a joker, a jester if they want to go by court metaphors. Maybe Larry's a mercenary, and don't the Japanese have a word for a warrior without a lord? That's what Larry would be to him. Oh ho green eyes narrow upon hearing what he's pretty sure is a challenge.]
Maybe. Whatcha wanna do about it?
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[Another shove, not so rough. Freddy'll no doubt recognize it's the old man wanting a little more contact because he can. Except it's a street not a lower balcony.]
Let's go on in and enjoy the air conditioning. Maybe make a buck after you loose three.
[Yessir. He said you.]
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[Better than Larry can at least, or so he thinks so there. Oof. Freddy recognizes that need for more contact however subtle because sometimes he gets that feeling too although pushing and nudging each other is preferable to holding hands in public. Sorry old man, the kid's got to accept a couple things about himself before that can ever be a reality.]
Oh yeah? If I make more money at any table you owe me a drink.
[Challenge on, Mr. White. But 'any table' is a necessary handicap because this is Lawrence Dimick versus Freddy Newendyke at old school gambling. Realistically the kid doesn't stand a chance and this ain't baseball or Traveller or Guess Who.]
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[A friendly challenge. That's the reality. He would love to hold this man's hand out in the open. Because their wants, those kinds of wants, haven't been talked about Larry believes the kid wants the same. Sometimes he takes for granted how much distance the kid has covered in his personal journey. People say too much, too fast can leave a person not completely sorted out.]
Fine. And if you make more money at any table you owe me a drink. Something from the bar. Maybe a mojito.
[Woah. Wait. Stop. Here. Caesar's Palace.]
We'll start here.
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Deal.
[Then he looks up at the chosen place. Of course, a Roman affair as the kid walks into the arena ready to play some gladiator games with the big dogs, or big dog in this case.] You first.
[He gestures for Larry to enter because age before beauty.]
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[Open paw and grinning because he's a smug sun of a gun at this game. Freddy is equally matched in that way. They're evenly matched for being so different. That's just how it goes though, ain't it?]
You wanna fly solo and we'll meet up in an hour? Maybe the bar by the pool. You gotta find your own trunks.
[Separate accounts but it always ends up that whatever is purchased is shared from flowers to comics.]
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Fine that's fair.
[He agrees because seriously White and Orange at the same table wouldn't end well, possibly for anyone else at the table. Freddy looks at his watch to double check the time then he looks up at Larry again.]
Don't stand me up if you don't got anything. [Talk about cocky.]
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