log post II

[orangetoughguy]

third person narrative, action bracket spam, anything goes
log post I | log post II | log post III

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[orangetoughguy]

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.]

[whitetwoguns]

[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.]

[orangetoughguy]

[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.]

[whitetwoguns]

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.]

[orangetoughguy]

[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.]

[whitetwoguns]

[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?]

[orangetoughguy]

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?

[whitetwoguns]

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.]

[orangetoughguy]

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.

[whitetwoguns]

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]

[orangetoughguy]

[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.]

[whitetwoguns]

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.]

[orangetoughguy]

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?]

[whitetwoguns]

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.]