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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[whitetwoguns]

[The warm, wet substance all over Larry's fingers isn't blood. May there never be another day like that fucking day. He never wants to feel Freddy's blood on his skin again. This on the other hand, well, within the next few days if not tomorrow would be good. The kid is addicting.]

Yeah.

[He does have it all. Though brown eyes look down anyway. Two hands, one mess and zero regrets. He lifts them up and out of the way. Side by side and skin to skin. More mouth to mouth too with this lovely foe.]

Thanks, partner.

[Took the edge right off of things.]

[orangetoughguy]

[All things work a certain way for a reason right? Take for example how Freddy finds that tequila towel within reach for Larry to wipe off his hands. They could clean those fingers with their mouths, certainly, but right now he wants to occupy the old man's with his own.]

Sure thing, cowboy.

[He breathes between kisses. Fuck if he ever has to give this up. That would be cruelty. Criminal.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Hands clean, somehow absolved. Even though there are moments when he blames himself for Freddy being shot at all. A man can't think of those kinds of things when you're speeding to the rendezvous. And now, it's all done. Nothing can be fixed.

His hands smell like tequila.]

Now I don't wanna move. Good going.

[Thank fucking God there's no one else to expect comin' on in here. Will anything be this good again?]

[orangetoughguy]

Lucky it's your house ain't it?

[Technically their house. Finally the kid rolls from his side to his back, green eyes looking up at the kitchen lights.]

Clean up can wait.

[whitetwoguns]

[Don't be going to far. Paws reach for him to get a grip on arm or fabric.]

Ours.

[Larry can't picture them living anyplace else. Wasn't it the kid's favorite choice anyway?]

Monkeys and diamonds aside [and after coming] how was your day?

[orangetoughguy]

[It sure was. Freddy's never lived in a place like this before, the city outside the apartment included. He can feel those paws on him, warm, tequila tinted, and comforting. Monkeys and diamonds aside...

Green eyes lower from those kitchen lights to nothing in particular.]

It sucked.

[He still hasn't told Larry why. Should he?]

But it's better now. [There's a little smile here as he snakes his arm to rest on the old man's broad chest.]