orangetoughguy | log post II

[Freddy's been pretty ready and willing since the day he met Mr. White, albeit with some trepidation until Black Magic Woman came along.]

I don't doubt it. I was eighteen when this came out and I had a hard time figuring why Gozer was giving me a bigger hard on than the girl I was watching it with. You know, other than hiding a hard on herself. Gozer, not the girl.

[This may or may not be an exaggeration of what really happened on that date.]

Gozer's got balls that's for sure.

[Which can mean that the kid likes a woman with balls or... he likes balls and the appearance of them on a woman makes the woman more appealing.]

Eighteen. [He whistles softly. That whole teenager, boy.] Nice that you got to go to the movies though.

[And not be running the streets or bouncing in and out of good favors with a Maggie May.]

[Let's not get into any specifics that may or may not run the risk of Freddy having to endure another round of love-hate-women. Because seriously, he doesn't hate them...how could this green eyed kid hate anyone but scumbags?]

You got to go to the movies. ['Pictures' he calls them, right? But on that thought he can't recall going to see a movie in an actual theater with Larry.] Wanna go to a movie sometime?

[Yeah, it sounds like he's asking Larry out on a date. It's supposed to.]

[The man likes what the man likes. Thank God that it's Larry Dimick. It's his turn to pull back and tilt his head to one side.]

Well sure, what kind of a movie would you wanna see?

[A date. Dressing up a little, maybe holding hands in the dark.]

An action flick? Maybe we could find a picture show that plays grindhouse shit.

[Even if the old man walks out with gum on his shoe it'd be the best ever. Thinking on that is a beacon.]

I'd love to go to the movies with you.

I don't know, we gotta see what's out. A western, some sci-fi, grindhouse, I'm up for anything. Dinosaurs would be a big draw.

[Note the lack of romance in these options not that Freddy's against a romantic film either. He knows how Lawrence Dimick can be and it doesn't bother him one bit.]

Cool, so it's a date. [He turns a little to better face Larry head on, straddling that lap now. Whoops is he blocking the view or making it better?]

All those sound pretty great to me.

[Oh the view is better. Much better. No Gozer in sight. Just a chin, lips and a stately, beaky nose.]

Should I dress nice?

[The words are lazy probably because he's about half way to dragging his mouth along the kid's jaw. He's fighting the sleep. Now would be a lousy time to doze off. He can smell the soap on Freddy's skin.]

You should dress how you wanna dress orrrr you can dress for the movie. Maybe we'll have to call it a double date.

[An outing with the other actors featured in the flick. He sets his hands on Larry's shoulders, rubbing them idly. They're close enough to smell nicotine and caffeine among other things.]

How do you want me to dress? [Not that it's a guarantee the kid's gonna listen.]

If it's a western, I want you to wear jeans. [Paws grip the outsides of his thighs to pull him so that they're fitted together more.] If it's a spy film or a drama you gotta wear slacks and good shoes.

[And he will likely not listen. Mmmm. Shoulders are tense under Freddy's flappy hands. He feels like a miracle worker.]

If we watch a movie like one of yours, you don't have to wear nothing at all.

[Does he need to specify?]

Sounds reasonable I guess.

[Another irreverent shrug even as he fits closer together with Larry. Those flappy hands keep kneading his muscles, from shoulders to biceps and back up again. Nope no specification necessary.]

I don't know, do they allow that in those kinds of theaters?

[It's different going in as an adult rather than a stupid sneaky teen you know. Also, going in with company.]

[He'll just moan in a way that is very unghost like, nothing loud or dramatic.]

Not typically. Just don't get caught you know? And people keep their eyes to themselves. Who'll know what's coming from the movie or a few rows back?

[Larry's fixing to make a chain around the kid's neck of wet marks his mouth makes.]

You sound like you got some experience. A lot of experience.

[As if that comes as a surprise to anyone when it comes to Lawrence Dimick. The guy's got a whole fifteen or sixteen years of experience on top of the kid. That wet chain he's leaving around his neck is proof, no one's ever made Freddy feel this good. Then again, he's kind of a late bloomer to the man-on-man thing.]

Maybe you can teach me how to behave right. [He leans in against Larry.] Show me the ropes.

[Now at least one ear lobe. It'll be something of a matched set.]

I got tossed out once. Got wise with my date the next time.

[She had a skirt that helped. These fucks will have to be creative. But hey, it's not impossible. Goddamn does this kid feel good with the massaging and leaning.]

Maybe I could. I dunno. You sure misbehave. I kinda like it.

[Kinda is putting it lightly. The strain in his voice gives him away.]

Petty crime.

[Tossed out of an adult theater, that wasn't on Larry's rap sheet. Maybe he was a juvenile at the time. The kid grinds lightly, nothing hard enough to give him a stiff wake up call but enough to keep him conscious. How much longer do they have until the day's over?]

I don't give a damn about my reputation.

[Freddy quotes one of his favorite girlfriends.]

The chumps that run it don't want any trouble so...they don't call the cops. Unless you wanna wear cuffs or something.

[Seventeen actually. Hah. Fake IDs weren't even checked at the door. The old man loves Milwaukee.]

Oh but it's a good one. [Something is waking up. The old man grinds back, one dormant bulge to another there's bound to be something happening.]

That clock on the VCR right? Says it's 11:23.

[Paws slip under his shirt to move up the kid's back.]

Cops got better things to do than bust kids at theaters anyway.

[He would know. Back on the beat his training officer would call it a garbage call. Stupid shit to cover when there are real crimes happening. Oof, now there's a particular grind that gets the kid moving just right. These hands rub down to Larry's sides now.]

Does it? Shit you drank a lot of coffee, what're you gonna do all night long? [Orange wonders with the best shit-eating innocently curious face.]

Harmless.

[It's a hurried breath out. The old man's putting more into it now, getting hard rather fast. That's no spell of a black magic woman. Just Freddy.]

I think I should do something to wear myself out.

[Larry tilts his chin up to take a nip at his mouth and ruin that face.]

Something hard.

[One had decides to slip south at Freddy's back to clutch at his ass.]

I'm here to help... [Orange volunteers like the good man he is, knees spreading a little wider to better lay flush against White.] If you got any ideas.

[Provocation? Maybe. Except it'd sound a lot more threatening if the kid didn't choke on a groan for the grip to his ass and the mouthing to his face. Already Freddy's pulling his hands off Larry to start peeling off his shirt.]

Don't blink. You might miss the good parts. [Of 'the show' so to speak. No nightmares here.]

[Oof. Direct contact now there's no doubt about it that the old man's got a stiff one for Freddy.]

Not for long at all.

[The more skin revealed the more those paws can touch on. Or paw rather, that one doesn't want to let go of Freddy's rump yet. He squeezes and rolls the flesh between his fingers.]

[Amidst low restrained groans those touches also evoke a few choice words.]

Sounds like you're gettin' at somethin' there, Larry. Wonder what.

[Freddy questions 'curiously' as he grinds against the stiff one. Lo and behold who should provide an answer but a certain toucan? Flap flap flap. Sam lands on the back of the couch to croak in the old man's ear. E-ee-e-e-e-ee-e. If they throw him some fruit he'll go into his cage peacefully.]

...Wanna head upstairs? [There, a compromise between man and bird.]

You're smart. [Oh fuck man. He pushes Freddy even closer against him to really stick it to him.] I know you probably have it figured out by now.

[Sleep deprived and horny as hell he can't hide the groan of frustration at the big colorful beak in his peripheral vision.]

To your bed?

[Whichever one he goes to he's not going to get up out of it for at least eight hours. He's pretty sure it'll be a toucan free zone.]

My bed'll do.

[Freddy nods, eager to get a move on as well...but he'll still have to toss the colorful buzzard a piece of sweets to keep Sam happy too. Pat pat to the old man's shoulders, he climbs off his lap clearly hard from the experience and does a quick shuffle to the kitchen. Here bird, have a kiwi.]

log post II

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