orangetoughguy | log post II

[That could be a grunt in the back of his throat that gets caught. Call it the Freddy Newendyke effect. Arms loop around his waist. He can taste Marlboros along his tongue, inviting him deeper into the old man's mouth. Fuck it's got him starting to breathe heavy.

There are so many things expressed this way, things Larry wants to say but knows it's best not to. Freddy's still a kid. Things are probably moving so much faster than it should. He's never done this before. Straight out of his mouth, though that was so many months ago. Did he have any idea it'd get here? All wants aside, did it ever cross his mind?]

[Anything that crossed Freddy's mind was all hopeless rock and roll fantasy. He still had a job to do at the time and he knew it, wouldn't let other things get in the way, to a point. Are there limits? Do limits matter anymore when it comes to them? Freddy doesn't consider himself a kid the same way Larry does, not anymore. He's been supporting himself since he dropped out, he's been on the force for six years, he's gone undercover, he's been shot at twice and lived to tell the tale. Freddy Newendyke is no kid. He's just a kid at heart, maybe heart is where all his kiddishness remains anymore, and he's got a lot of heart for Lawrence Dimick. Who knew.]

Mmf. [Freddy sounds against pressing mouths and probing tongues.] Larry...

[All that heart, all that kiddishness that only Lawrence Dimick sees only makes him protective. Already he considered himself to be something of a private guy, polite to anybody unless you crossed him. The more he gets out of Freddy, the more he wants to give. Until what? Until there's nothing left?]

Yeah, [pulling back in for one more lick at his bottom lip] baby? [Lips migrate to below his ear, so he can answer.]

[Oh God that feels so fucking good. He tilts his head to grant better and more access for that big old bear. Every kiss feels both fucking burning with urgency and soothing in its warmth.]

Think you'd dance with me at Rockefeller Center?

[Yeah, Freddy has to ask. It's the easiest way to express how much he wants to keep Larry's company, beyond this world. Beyond Los Angeles.]

[In the dark you can't see freckles or scars, for a moment he feels as though maybe that is a ghost of what was a vampire bight it's so damn faint. The question, the implications, make him pull up his head. Is it too dark to see eye to eye? Larry'll try anyway.]

Yes. If you'd want to.

[Would Freddy really want him to? All those eyes on them? He doesn't want to lose this. Not here, not there. Would braving it out where his ass could be a smudge on the pavement? How is that any different than being at gun point with Eddie and Joe Cabot. It's a treacherous step that Mr. White would take.]

We should go up to the Empire State Building too.

Why not?

[The unspoken part is how in New York City nobody knows who Freddy Newendyke is. Some people might know Lawrence Dimick there, either as Alvin or any other alias, but Mr. White has a rock solid reputation. Who would question that? It's something Freddy's noticed working on the other side of the law; people will look the other way if you're feared enough or in Larry's case he likes to believe respected enough.]

That'd be nice. [Eyes are seeing green to brown.] Then web up between the twin towers and go flying.

They got dance halls too.

[With their music. A city that never sleeps, and never gets into nobody's business if they can help it. All of Larry's contacts are underground. He'd make them understand, if they didn't? Well, forget them. None of them are all that near and dear of friends.]

We should practice before then.

[Sorry. e can't help it. A smile tugs at his face making wrinkles at the cheeks and corners of his eyes.]

I'm gonna have to get a spider bite first.

[He quips. There's all sorts of irony in that remark even Freddy doesn't know yet. But either way he does know the old man meant dancing. Still he returns the smile.]

I don't mind practicing.

How could I forget?

[Could it be that Larry is actually getting used to the Marvel, DC infused jokes infused here and there? Because he gets this is about Spider Man. That mean he's racking up a few gold stars?]

All about moving to the beat. We'll work on that.

[Because that is the only thing to sort out for their return to the real world. If only. Hard to tell from where they are but it could be Phil Collins in the air tonight.]

We got time.

[He nods, more than willing to work on it, work on whatever they need to. The kid didn't just jinx it by saying they do have time at all though, did he? His fingertips roam upward to feel along the collar of Larry's shirt. Nothing's wrong with Phil Collins, is there something in the air tonight?]

And I learn fast. [Here we go with that again.]

[Thank God. Yes, they do. That is, if Larry doesn't fuck it up. Damn, that's not what he's thinking. Not really. He just hopes greatly that he never jumps the gun.]

Sure do.

[The old man moves to pop open a few buttons on his shirt, then take a hold of Freddy's hand to place it at his sternum. Soft cotton is interrupted by the feel of an ink design.]

[At first the kid doesn't seem to notice something's different about that shirt. Soft cotton, that's pretty normal. But ink? And ink that Larry appears to be making him feel? With a purpose? He almost believes maybe the guy's just hinting at him to start divesting him of his clothes...which Freddy starts doing happily so. Button by button.]

Don't tell anybody.

[He's close enough to whisper into the man's ear which may be a ploy to be near enough to lightly scrape his teeth against his ear while he's putting the pieces together.

It was difficult to find a shirt like this that would fit him the way he likes it. All for a purpose though.]

[Button by button by button by...the kid stares. No really he's staring. It's a big old unmistakable S on a big old unmistakable man. His hands roam over the ink and cotton stretched over his broad chest. It lights his green eyes up immediately, moreso than they were already lit up before.]

You sneaky son of a bitch.

[He hisses under his breath as his fingers clutch onto Larry's outer shirt, bringing the guy in for a kiss.]

[For a heartbeat, he feels stupid. That's undone by how much those green eyes illuminate like the 4th of July.]

Gotta promise not to tell nobody. I gotta keep my secrets.

[Hard, super powered lip lock. Feel anything of steel, kid?]

I ain't gonna--

[...tell nobody. That's what he means to say before the man of steel just sweeps him right up. Those hands are grabbing at the actual shirt now only to slip under the hem to feel bare skin below. He's firm, that's for sure.]

Wait wait wait... [He breathes, forcing them apart.] This ain't some undercover report for the Daily Planet is it?

So what if it is?

[At least he can talk about it with a professional undercover....agent, not reporter.]

I promise I'll protect you.

[Those fingers on him really make him feel like he's invincible.]

You ain't workin' on a story about young guys who'd do anything to touch the big man of steel? [And touch touch touch the kid does. He's so fucking hard under his clothes, winter pounds or not.] Things like suckin'im off or bending over.

[Make no mistake, two can play at this game. He's hot and bothered by Larry wearing the S and he'll return the favor two fold.] That's nice, good thing I don't need no protection from you.

All that's just for me. I'm looking for the real story here. I go deep undercover.

[Like the way his hand is going to the front of Freddy's pants. He's pretty dam n hard in places too.]

Though I think you're onto something there. That's a story I could get into.

[Clever turn of phrase. Fuck it'd be so different to think of wearing a rubber ever again]

[That hand on his crotch is too much. Freddy can't resist grinding into his palm.] Take me--to your hideout, then we'll talk.

[Among other things. Green eyes are narrowing, fuck it's taking everything he's got not to jump Super White right here and now.]

It's a treacherous journey, do you think you can make it that far?

[That'd mean they gotta get in the boat. Is everything normal yet? Fucking hell. He should have thought that through a little more. This was a lot more effective than he thought it would be.]

You're the superhero, I'm countin' on you.

[Freddy manages to breathe out. Oh yeah, it's effective. Way effective. Seriously Lawrence Dimick what were you expecting pulling a stunt like this?]

Up, up, and away.

[One last kiss before stepping out of the protection of shade. To the the boat, to the house. And then it doesn't take x-ray vision to see that they're heading to the bedroom. As fast as possible.]

log post II

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