orangetoughguy | log post II

[One paw is all it takes to have Freddy come scooting closer, knees bending so that now his thighs are on Larry too. One hand settles on this man's shoulder, the other over his thick wrist.]

Cool cause I might look young [-er, younger.] but I got a lot to show. I mean maybe a little bit comes out on the stands month by month but time goes by so fuckin' fast suddenly you're lookin' at a pile of storylines right in your lap.

[The hand on Larry's shoulder becomes a hand holding his chin.] And you know I'm a big fan of readin' all those back issues from the Golden Age.

[The more contact, the more at ease he feels. Making a fist then letting it go, he is loosening up.]

Every time I think that's it, there's a whole new dimension to you. [The things that these green eyes see that are and aren't there. Both arms move to pull up Freddy to sit more directly in the man's lap.]

There might be a whole mess of those. But they're all for you, don't you know? [Years and years of stories of victory and defeat, coming out as they will like remastered refined and presentable but unedited.]

I know, and I like it. I love it.

[So fucking close. Freddy nods, not at all resisting the pull that brings him sitting in Larry's lap while his legs kinda just hang over the couch arm. It's all cool. It's all dangerously close.]

When all this is gone. [When they have to relinquish the safety of their new (temporary?) lives here, when they have to go back to Los Angeles where at least one of them will have to be on the run.] It's just gonna be another break between here and New York or Mexico or wherever the fuck you think is a cool place to visit.

[Or to hide. The kid's not exactly saying he'd give up his badge for the old man, but he is just as well implying Larry will get away and wherever he gets away too Freddy's gonna find a way to see him.]

[Any resistance would have stopped the movement. A shoulder can serve to be a pillow if he wished to do so.]

In the movies they always meet at the Empire State Building. At the top and shit. [Departing then rendezvousing, he's getting it. Though it seems like a far off possibility. That will mean waking up alone, not seeing that face, not hearing that voice. It's the price to pay, isn't it? After all of this they have to face the music some how.] What about Vegas?

[They expect Mexico first. Border patrol will be on the alert at first. Then they get sloppy. New York is three thousand miles from LA. At least Nevada is a few hours drive. That's how Larry's mind is working. It isn't on the same couch, but it's closer than the other side of the country.]

I'd wait for you.

[It's a big price to pay because a crooked cop seems far more likely to survive amongst gentlemen felons than a felon is likely to survive surrounded by cops. That's just the way it goes. There may be an equal amount of people on each side of the law, but the law favors Freddy's side. That's the way it goes.]

You could pick me up on the strip. We can grade those Elvis guys for dinner. [He smiles.] Roll the dice. [Literally.]

I don't regret a damn thing. [Freddy says, leaning inward not to use his shoulder as a pillow but to rest his forehead against Larry's. These green eyes are looking straight on.]

[Ain't that the truth. The story of a cop doing everything it takes to keep their cover will be Freddy's safety. Larry would have at least ten years for this. It's a third strike.]

Couldn't gamble without you. [Kid is a lucky charm. Rabbits foot. Larry sighs when they're eye to eye.]

Neither do I. [Fingertips wander a moment to touch his scar, it's proof of where they've been. Freddy Newnedyke doesn't regret a bullet to his gut/]

[Larry killed cops. They'll give him life for sure. Well there goes Freddy lying again because he does feel bad for killing that woman and being unable to save Marvin. Shit he just can't fucking win. It only figures he feels the safest and happiest in a felon's lap. Larry touching his scar evokes those memories; he doesn't regret how being wounded brought them together. He just wishes that woman survived. Maybe if she had then Freddy would have a legitimate reason to run with Larry. Civilians can be vicious to cops who shoot out of self-defense.]

I fuckin' love you, old man.

[It comes out before he can even think about it but it's tempered too by tone and extra words...or something. Freddy's hands grab at the sides of Larry's face for a deep hard kiss.]

[When you pull a gun it's always about what's living as well as what's dying. He couldn't have known. The day was fucked in so many ways, even if he would have been given a second chance, Larry knows he would have done whatever it took to make a clean get away. If he could have known, he would have had them run for the border once they got that bitch out of her car and---

He starts to say something, something that doesn't compare to those words at all. His heart feels like it's jumped up into his throat trying to creep up more and shove it's way to the other man, tearing him to pieces happily. This cool, crazy motherfucker loves him. To say that his return for the way Freddy's going at him is enthusiastic is an understatement.]

[A clean getaway, a clean heist, that's all he could have asked for. Mostly what Freddy wanted was for no one to get hurt. No mess. No earless cops about to be burned alive. What the hell is the fucking point of all that savagery? Only scumbags pull shit like that, they're the only ones who really have to go down. What Larry did to those cops, Freddy knows he did it for them. It's a shame he didn't have to, if the kid had spoken up or done something...well, too late now. But God does he love this old man.]

Mmhm.

[Freddy sounds between their mouths as if he might have heard Larry trying to say something in response. Was it reciprocation? He can only hope so. Hands are pulling at that shirt, the big beautiful S.]

[Scumbags shoot at the scene of the crime. Can we all blame it on Blonde? That was the body that belonged in a bag that day at the jeweler's. All these chances, all these moments past. The facts remain the same, Lawrence "Two Guns" Dimick, known criminal is living with Officer Freddy Newendyke, fucking too. All because he loves this man. And he's got to know it.

How can he not? How many times has it tried to slip out? That hand at his stomach, creeps up his chest just for the joy of touching. If they parted now and he said the same, would it be too soon? There's no way Larry can't say it now. It's a ballsy thing for what they have, for what they are.

When he pulls back, and that's not easy to do, the old man pushes floppy hair away from Freddy's face.]

I'm in love with you, motherfucker. You know that right? I'm fucking crazy about you.

[He actually said it. Well of course he said it, he's Lawrence Dimick. He's sure of himself, he's been the patient one in all this. Which isn't to say Larry doesn't have weaknesses or insecurities either, but to Freddy Newendyke he seems stronger in this respect. Stronger because he's been there, done that. Freddy, well, that's a hard one. He's no nineteen year old and he's been there, done that, but not with anyone who truly made him feel this way. This is different, this is far more honest and thus makes him more vulnerable.]

I know. [Freddy nods once. Twice. Small but rapid nods.] I fuckin' know it, Larry.

[The kid almost sounds like he's bleeding out all over the place again, holding and being held, scared like he's been stripped down to nothing because he bit off more than he can chew. That's how you're genuine though isn't it? Refraining from taking that leap because you're scared of getting hurt is the most insincere thing to do.]

[Knowing that one day this'll be at an end and the flood gates of reality is hard to swallow. Doubts about this creep in the corners but one thing is for damn sure in Larry's mind, he loves this man.]

I've known for some time.

[Here, before he sounds like more of a pussy he assaults Freddy's mouth again. They're in too deep and sinking.]

Jesus.

[That's a groan from one mouth to the other. He's thankful for the action because if Freddy had to talk more he'd probably only sound more like a sentimental pussy too. The feeling's so fucking mutual. Speaking of...he pulls his mouth off to breathe then rush a command.]

Let's fuck.

[Well, more like a suggestion, a desperate request, something.]

[No pussies here. In both respects. A cocky smile, like a high roller in Sin City set for life, is distorted by how he lightly gnaws at the other man's bottom lip.]

You read my mind.

[Larry is pulling at Freddy's shirt again, this time to get it off.]

But I can see right through you.

[He's wearing the Superman shirt still, see.]

X-ray vision? Do you like what you're seein'?

[Shirt off, it's not much of a challenge and this point. He works his own thumbs to pull Larry's shirt up but not off, just enough for him to rub along his chest, particularly over his nipples. That's the ticket.]

Oh, I do, baby. Shit. [Hiss for how good that touch is. Larry reaches between Freddy's legs.]

Feelin' even better. Get more comfortable and fucking straddle me.

[Shit that's somethin'. He bites back a groan as he feels himself already reacting to that hand.]

Okay.

[Do you like the sound of that, Lawrence Dimick? The way Freddy submits so easily, putting his trust into those big old hands? They both know it's neither true naivete nor truly just an act. It's part of something he feels he can be around Mr. White, something afforded to him when he donned the name Mr. Orange. Of course, to Larry now he's also Freddy. Lawrence Dimick is the only man on the fucking planet--Earth and otherwise--who knows both. He straddles that lap with ease, knees parted to really lay into him.]

[Oh he feels it too.]

Mmmm.

[Friction, pressure and being face to face, fuck he's panting like a dog.]

Smuggling steel? Kryptonite?

[He'll check for himself reaching into that man's pants. Yeah, there will be more maneuvering to actually fuck but hey. Larry loves to touch his cock.]

I ain't no Lex Luthor, let's get that straight.

[Freddy manages to growl out between huffs of breath. His hands anchor on the other man's chest, still working his nipples in firm circles. It's almost a battle now as he grinds again, trying to be as much of an aggressor.]

Anything you got to give though, I can take it. [No need for superpowers, no need for a green ring, no need for the tape. Just his body. He's so fucking sure of it.]

Got too much hair.

[Challenge met. The kid isn't quite as handsy, as blatant but he's sure turned on by it. He rubs even harder to show him. That's no pistol in his pocket, not that Sups is party to those. Cowboys are.]

I know you can, my man. [One long stroke from base to tip, slow the first time the next rapid all to get him hard.] Take your pants off.

I ain't rich either.

[He breathes out before dragging his teeth along Larry's solid jaw. If there weren't so many hands and pieces in the way he'd reach down for Larry's magnum too. Oh shit that particular stroke's got the kid groaning. His hands fall away from that chest as he swallows.]

Okay.

[There's that word again. The way he gets off Mr. White is shaky at best, evident in how hard he's become. The kid stands on the floor to unbutton, unzip, slowly strip. Yeah, it's for your benefit, Larry. When he's naked and clearly stiff he just stands there like he's on display, which he is...but he's also waiting for orders because if there's one other way to show who's boss around here it's to make the other guy beg for it.]

Sure about that?

[What they got sure ain't diamonds, but it's golden.]

Stay right there.

[Larry opens his pants and pulls himself out. Brown eyes never leave Freddy though they roam over him as he stands their in their living room. Scars, freckles, wiry and muscled. He takes it all in giving himself a stroke before standing, slowly removing his own pants.]

I'm comfortable, we can leave it at that.

[Golden. Freddy folds his arms across his chest, green eyes watching every flex of muscle and movement of his skin, the way the wildcat contracts. Christ it's got his blood boiling but he won't jump the old man just yet. He can wait, he can wait and not start jacking himself off even as he drinks in the sight of Lawrence Dimick doing it. Needless to say, Freddy's focus is square on the paw working that dick.]

Real comfortable...

[Not. His balls are starting to feel a little tight.]

You deserve to live in the lap of luxury.

[Or this one. Larry stills his hand. Now he feels like he's got special vision, because he can see the tension under the kid's skin.]

Come back on over here. But no coming. Not yet.

[How Freddy would like to get back to the couch, he'll leave that as taster's choice.]

You think so? You think I deserve a big house up in the west hills?

[He can feel those warm brown eyes on him damnit, raising every hair on his freckled skin among other things. For that remark of guidance he just nods, arms coming loose so he can kneel on the couch, first with his bare rear to Larry, legs spreading...only so he can turn over and sit on the cushions again. Those wiry arms reach up and curl to anchor over the back of the couch. His knees part wide.]

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