orangetoughguy | log post II

But did you need to keep asking? I'm not the person I was then. I'm not a teenager. I got it together now.

[As together as a grown man with issues allows himself to be. Skeleton bones poke out from under the rug.]

It wasn't real. Right? Well, I kept it to myself back then.

[Tit for tat. Tell it like it is, old man.]

I made myself who I am.

And I'm not allowed to know that? I'm not allowed to know who you are or how you were?

[Freddy's tone is bordering frustrated. For one, he's a cop who already knows Larry's killed cops, robbed various people and organizations blind, did drugs, and participated in prostitution (as a client but knowing what he does now maybe as a trick too). Can't he know the other things that make Lawrence Dimick human? Not that Freddy needs convincing, but it doesn't hurt to know more, does it?]

And it was real you know what I mean. [When the kid says it wasn't really real, as in they didn't go back in time and change the course of history. Yeah.]

Why do you want to know? I had a shit past. There are good stories, good moments I want you to know and hold onto those because I do. Freddy, I got reasons why I don't tell you about getting beat into the shag carpet.

[Having to put to words what happened, having to deal with the memories and then see pain or anger in this kid's face.... it's different from pissing him off with requests like this. Both of them are helpless to do anything about it.]

It's not worth knowing.

[Brown eyes look at him steadily before taking another puff of his cigarette.]

[Hearing it put that way makes him frown. Why does it always have to sound like a smack to the face? Other than maybe that's how it feels to Lawrence Dimick, right Newendyke? Freddy's furrowing brow deepens.]

I like knowing more about you, the good and the bad. You like knowing everything you can about me, don't you? Growing up in podunk town USA, gettin' kicked around under the bleachers, all the cunt girlfriends I've had. [Not that Freddy hates women.] I feel like I can tell you that shit, Larry. It's worth knowin' to me.

[Or is this a one-sided arrangement? That's the green eyed look he's giving the other man.]

[He swallows thickly.]

I feel like I can tell you. I never said I couldn't.

[Trust is two ways, ain't it? There's a good, wide gander at Freddy's point of view and it's as distressing of Larry's side.]

The shit I got on my side it's not--[as simple, as easy...he can't say that though. It's not fair to spin it like that. Freddy had a hard time in its way. The cigarette is as good as gone, he deposits it in the ashtray on the table between them not bothering to snuff it out all the way. Smoke coils this way and that.]

I don't want you thinking different of me, okay? I'm not in the practice of talking about where I've been, what happened.

[Oh he's well aware what he's been through is nothing compared to what Larry's been through, all the more reason for them to share, right? Freddy's familiar with an amount of privacy too, he gets that, but the fact that it upset Larry gets to him. The fact that he gets the impression maybe the old man expected the kid to avoid the situation gets to him.]

How differently am I gonna think of you, Larry? [Freddy points at him before using his hands to count off.] I've seen you on junk, I've seen you fuck other people, I've seen you kill people. You think your childhood's gonna change how I think about you now?

[He shakes his head.] If you never wanna talk about where you've been fine, I'm sorry I wanted to know. I didn't mean to put you in a place. [There's only a mild hint of sarcasm there, more like some embarrassment and hurt for having crossed a line he wasn't sure was there.]

[So much for not getting angry.]

In all that, I had a choice. Bad ones. But they were mine.

[Not that it makes it clear or anything. A paw rubs at his forehead, he is looking hard at the table and the array of items there. Some of Freddy's, some of his own. Theirs.]

I did kinda think that you'd think different. [Admitting it out loud, to himself and to the man he fucking loves feels like he's pulling shrapnel out from under his skin.] ...That I'm just messed up through and through without a chance of ever meeting you half way.

[Big hands spread out with nothing else to offer there.]

I know you didn't mean no harm.

[Smaller but not tiny paws mirror those big open ones.] What am I some kind of fuckin' saint? I'm not a fuckin' saint, Larry.

[He's a cop, he's seen things too, albeit from the other side of the fence. Is that what draws a line in the sand? Yeah he asked the kid not to get angry and now Freddy's getting angry. Good going, Newendyke. He huffs, trying to calm down now and not let his temper get the better of him.]

Maybe you're a little messed up, Larry, but so am I and you know what? It still doesn't fuckin' scare me.

[He folds his arms across his chest and glances away, feeling like some kind of stupid spoiled kid who got lucky on a bear. A bear who thinks he might not be able to handle the mess he is. It's one think to just value his own privacy but to keep private over that? No, Freddy wants Larry to know he's not afraid.]

[Yes, he is some kind of a saint to a man who guns down cops and has a problem with the big guy in the sky. And it isn't because he's a cop, it's because he's a fucking good kid, good as gold.

Damn it all though, Newendyke is a man, not a kid or a saint.]

A little messed up? [Let's hold onto that rather than the fear detail.] You wanna know what I went through? I was scared to get up to take a piss after I was told to go to bed. Any disobedience would get me into a onesided brawl. If I cried out loud it wold start all over again. Real men don't cry.

[The only thing about Larry he truly fears is his strength and temper. He believes the old man doesn't want it to happen ever again but sometimes certain circumstances are out of their control and floppy haired kids end up on the business end of a foot on the kitchen floor. Men will brawl, that's just the way it is, but Larry can pack a vicious hit.]

Yeah I do wanna know what you went through, okay! [Speaking of tempers, Newendyke here has his own to boot. He's getting up in Larry's face now, the bear who has paws twice as big as his own.] But you don't have to hand it to me like it's some kinda punishment. For fuck's sake I'm not--[He swallows.] I'm not one of those bastards who fuckin' hurt you.

[Am I? Freddy can be a menopausal bitch, after all.]

[Face to face and it looks like tonight won't be as good of a night as the one before it. Larry doesn't back down though he hopes he can be able to keep himself checked.]

You don't think I fucking know that? You're one of the best things that ever happened to me!

[With all the bullets and bloodshed. Joe, Eddie, fuck the old man feels like such a goddamn monster himself even thinking it but he would have never been this happy if all that didn't happen. They would have never met. Can Freddy honestly, truly say the same? Can he? There are good, law abiding cocksuckers out there.]

They don't come close to you, not by a long shot. It's like comparing sugar to dirt. Both don't even belong together.

[Which....could be another reason why the old man wants to keep them apart. Larry has to take a step away, turn his back and try to get it together.]

How am I even supposed to start?

[It's weird yet so right to hear Larry say words like that in such a heated angry tone. That's how Freddy feels. He feels like screaming in the old man's fucking face how much he fucking loves him even though he can be one stupid motherfucker sometimes. Larry can be, that is, not Freddy himself. Okay Freddy himself too.]

You don't need to get fuckin' poetic on me, Shakespeare. [The kid feels like a bad guy already, staring at that back like he might put a dagger into it. Then he'd apologize profusely and nurse the bear back to health of course.] I'm not demanding shit outta you.

[Yes you are, Newendyke. Billy Idol is singing about eyes without a face, someone who's got no human grace.] I don't wanna be cut off from a part of you. [They already have fifteen years between them and they're both grown men, but Larry has a childhood, adolescence, and prime behind him (though Freddy would argue he's still in the latter). It took this much effort just to know a little more about Alabama. He's still staring at Larry's broad back.]

Like I'm some kid who can't handle it. [Sugar that needs to be sheltered. Lawrence Dimick has been dragged through the mud on occasion, he knows it, Freddy just wants to say he'd gladly get road rash with him.]

[That dog has a hell of a bark. Not worth kicking. Though it gets this bear turning around.]

If I can't take it, how can I expect you to? Huh? [Is he talking about then? Now? Seventeen was just yesterday, it's all fucking fresh on his mind. Huff and puff. He shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair.]

I'm not fucking good at the sharing. S'not you, get it?

[Growling bear is simmering slowly.]

Promise me that what I tell you won't change anything?

[The pitch of his voice and the magnitude of his request is greatly increased from the lug of a lad he was. It matters more than anger, that Larry Dimick can stand.]

[The immediate response is to ask if Larry thinks he's stronger than Freddy but he knows better, he knows that isn't what the old man means. Right? So this dog manages to hold his tongue and get his hackles back down.]

I get it, Larry. [Give up, Newendyke. He's not gonna open up. Maybe it serves you right for being a shit when it came to the cross in your room. Just when Freddy's about to let the matter go though (for tonight) he hears Larry and green eyes look up once more. Warmer caramel green.]

Nothing's gonna change what I know about you, man. Unless you're like an axe murderer or somethin'. [That's a joke, Larry. If he'd been paying attention to the network maybe he's get it too.]

[Freddy is steel, still bright and silvery from the factory. What other man would go undercover and deal with Mr. Blonde types? Those warm caramel green eyes, he can't say no to them. Not for long. It's not worth hurting the kid.]

It's not gonna be comin' out all at once. But I'll tell you, kid.

[Because he deserves it. The more of a fuss Dimick makes of it, the more he can see that he's letting it take a hold of him, stand between em. It doesn't miss his attention that this could be his crucifix on the wall.]

Axes aren't my thing, remember? [Joking right back though the enthusiasm isn't there.]

I'm sorry, baby.

[Larry hasn't even shared anything else yet and Freddy already feels like his tail could be fucking wagging. Either he's that easy to please or he's that relieved the old man isn't as mad at him anymore for taking advantage of his teenage self. Wag wag wag fucking wag. Wait don't give in so fucking easily, Newendyke. Real men don't slobber for attention. Real men play stupid and stay angry and ignorant.]

I'm sorry, I got mad. Just...sometimes. [He swallows and takes another step forward.] Sometimes you drive me up the fuckin' wall.

[Paws are eagerly reaching for that older face complete with deeper lines around his eyes, across his forehead, framing his mouth. A mouth he wants to kiss. It doesn't escape Freddy's notice, that maybe Lawrence Dimick also grew older faster than most kids had to. How long was it before that bright shiny seventeen lost its polish or had it always been slowly slowly tarnishing?]

I drive you up the wall?

[Now that's some funny shit. Still not worth laughing out loud. Damn he loves to be in these hands at any age. Larry leans so that they can touch lips. Two tails are wagging. It's a relief that he didn't put Freddy off too much.]

We're crazy period.

[Paws ruffle his longer hair. Should they spring into everything now? Unfortunately, he's sure if he lets it slide once it'll keep going. Both muscular arms go around Freddy and ease them onto the couch.]

The first place I stayed at, I was with five other kids. A much older lady and her grown daughter took care of us. The lady didn't know much English, we stayed with her the most. Her daughter was the moneymaker.

Yeah you do.

[Wanna make something of it? That's the dare implied in his tone but it's still in better humor, it's endearing. Shit everything he fucking does these days is endearing to Freddy Newendyke, from the way he rolls his dice to the way he folds his fucking laundry. He's got it bad for the old man.]

Were they nice to you?

[Eased onto the couch--making sure the comic book is on the table so they don't squash it--the kid's hands are working to remove whatever it is Larry's wearing. It's not because he's getting horny (yet), he just wants to see that wildcat clawing up a thick forearm. It's one of the memorable differences between the older man and the teenager. Whereas Freddy could see the beginnings of these features that make a Lawrence Dimick there was no indication of a panther at all.]

Fine then.

[No, he wants it to stay that way. They've been at it for the better part of a year now. It hasn't been perfect and they've had their troubles like any other couple. Larry wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Comic book check with one hand. Thank God has two. One to stay on Freddy at least until he needs to shrug the shoulders off of his coat. Nothing but a simple white button down is underneath that. The wildcat is a sleeve roll away.]

As nice and welcoming as they could be. A lotta mouths to feed, they didn't do me no wrong though I missed my Uncle and my parents. Didn't quite hit me what was goin' on until the agency said they found me a place. Then another one and another one.

[Easing into it, bit by bit.]

[If it's just a sleeve roll away then Freddy's rolling rolling rolling, up until he can stroke the black feline like it might purr under his touch. Somehow this means the kid's in his lap, if not that then sitting sideways right up against him so his legs are draped over Larry's thighs.]

Ramblin' man.

[That's you, Lawrence Dimick. Maybe not so much anymore though since they've got this place to themselves. He wants to ask about Larry's first time, with a boy (a man) but he won't. The old man will get to it when he wants to get to it, now that he knows the kid will listen, unafraid.]

[The kid's got prime property in Larry's lap for all time. Draping, fucking, whatever he's welcomed to stay there. And he notes the attention to his tattoo, flexing and relaxing accordingly.]

The third place was the woman with her fucking prized cats. I must have been there a half a year. Then I was in a colored folks family. It'd have been better if I didn't become a brother of some brothers. They didn't take kindly to me being in their home, elbowing in. Like it wasn't tough enough. The father was a gorilla and went to town on about everyone, blowing a gasket treating his family like trash. ...He wasn't the one I was talking about though.

[It's easier to say this so damn close to Freddy, kinda quiet below the music. ]

I thought I was some stony big shot because I got knocked up side the head a few times. It was nothing.

[He said 'colored', sometimes it's moments like this one that remind him Larry really is a different generation. When Freddy was a kid the people who said 'colored' were all the grown ups, Larry practically lived in civil rights while Freddy was toddling around as people got assassinated. He also hasn't forgotten that conversation in Eddie's car and subsequent conversations afterward. Mr. White has a fondness for black women, black men however can kiss his ass. Is this when it began? Does Larry know how much Freddy loves origin stories? Swamp Thing's reinvention by a certain snake worshipper is sitting on the table.]

Maybe not a big shot but you're one fuckin' tough guy.

[The kid remarks quietly, close to his jaw and still pawing the tattoo.] Do you wanna tell me more? [Can I hear more?] Do you wanna talk about Vickie? [Did you really like her? Did you want to like her?]

[Is it bad that he thinks nothing of it? It's what he's used to saying. Of course Larry isn't ignorant of the change from one terminology to another, it doesn't stick though. Recounting the years in his head, when he was on his way to being a man, Freddy was working on becoming a boy. Fucking funny world they live in.]

Tough kid having it out with anybody.

[Not a discouraging word yet, though honestly he would not expect one after the talk. And the questions that are asked really aren't a fuss. He is so fucking lucky every which way. Larry moves splaying his legs a little, leaning farther back into the cushions. That arm bearing his old ink is surrendered into the kid's hands.]

Vickie. Heh. [Freddy loves a story too.] She went to my school. I wasn't sure what to make of her wanting to be around all the time, though it didn't take me long. She'd doll herself up, you know? So we were everywhere together. Holdin' hands first. That was what was okay for the most part.

[Once surrendered he's not getting it back. Well okay not entirely, but Freddy is really into having that arm at the moment. He works from stroking the inked feline to pressing his lips against it starting at the tip of the tail and working upward to its fangs.]

How old was she? Was she pretty? [He wonders if Larry's ever dated a young black girl or are those different from black women too?]

[That kinda tickles. Not enough to say so but enough to keep the edges of his mouth upturned. Would the kid ever get a tattoo? Larry tries to imagine what and where for a moment. Probably somethin' out of a comic book.]

She was fifteen. Her hair was a chocolate brown and she always wore it up in a ponytail, all the time. Was she pretty? Well, she kinda looked like Natalie Wood except her eyes were smaller and had more to speak of in the nose department.

[Speaking of which he lightly grabs Freddy's between his thumb and forefinger. It's for just a second then he lets go.]

We had a good time, Vickie and I. Her daddy didn't like me. See...he used to be a cop.

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