orangetoughguy | log post II

[He's about to argue Larry on that point but for once Freddy keeps his mouth shut. It's what his room mate...something or other guy...wants, not that he stops talking but that he stops talking about this. Freddy's not dense, he knows that. Would it count if these green eyes do the talking for him? Scoot scoot, he makes room for the old man and just looks at him. These eyes are saying:

I'm so fucking sorry please forgive me, if you forgive me maybe someone up there will see to it Sam still has a good chance to live the rest of his days as a happy toucan.]

[A meaty forearm comes to rest along Freddy's thigh and a hand touches at his knee. He sees those green eyes and they way they look at him as though asking for punishment or permission to speak more apologies or promises for amends.]

It's been a long day, cowboy.

[That's about all that can be said about that. Larry's head leans just so to touch hear his shoulder. He's not going to lean but this close maybe the kid can see this is what matters. And this is what makes it hurt so much that the kid believes that little fibs can make this any better than it already is.]

[Maybe a part of him seeks a little punishment from Larry because Sam himself can't dish it. Stop that Newendyke, stop being such a fucking fool for everyone's approval. The weight on his thigh feels so good and still feels undeserved, but he won't push it away because Larry does what he wants. Larry still wants to touch him. Freddy appreciates that.]

Yeah....

[A freckled arm snakes out to curl around the old man's waist, pulling him flush up against the kid so Freddy can be the one to lean in instead, face to the crook of Larry's neck. If he'll allow it.]

I hope he's gonna be okay. [Because if the toucan dies he'll be taking along a little piece of Freddy's own confidence with him.]

[Oh, he'll allow it. Larry isn't a heartless man. He wants any touch he can get still after all this time. They can only touch each other in privacy. There are so many hours in a day too. He'll take whatever he can get. Being skin to skin even now makes him sigh.

What a mess, Sam. Is it easy to at least be sick and not know why? That's complicated enough as it is right now.]

The doc will take care of everything. Wait and see.

[Experience has lead Larry to know when it's alright to take liberties on the truth without any proof. Times like now it's okay. Freddy needs certainty. The refrigerator hums in the quiet that settles. It's nice to sit this way. No words.

Very nearly midnight now.]

[That bohemian cultured fuck doesn't get this. Ever. Never will as far as this comic cultured kid is concerned too. Touching like this when they can, out of the public eye, that's what Freddy fibs for--er...lives for. Sorry, the white lies (as opposed to white lines) come at a fucking price because they're not so white after all. Shit he's twenty-seven now, not far from thirty at all, but he's got a bit to grasp about keeping people happy and why overreaching can be just as poor as not reaching far enough.]

Alright, Larry.

[He presses a kiss to that thick neck. No one sees this, no one has that privilege although some days, in moments just like it, Freddy wants to proudly show off what a fucking good man he has. Criminal record and all.]

[Another sigh for the touch of that kid's mouth on his skin. The effect is like a slow acting, highly potent drug. More contact they have the more the fire in him is altering. Freddy Newendyke is is favorite drug, addicting and reckless he couldn't do without it. The longer he is with this man the more certain it is that he couldn't tolerate to part.]

Everything's gonna be alright, baby.

[Bullshit like this is for no one else's ears. Would that bohemian motherfucker even have this kind of control over the matter? Would he even know where to start with a kid who would readily try and convince his man that a bird can lay diamonds when it's a boy? ....then again, Larry believes that dick would not have a problem with the bird at all. Or have diamonds stashed in a closet.

Larry turns his head enough to plant a kiss on the other man's cheek.

Midnight.]

Thanks, man.

[Freddy may not have much experience with men but he knows what he likes and what he likes is Lawrence Dimick. Okay fuck that, who he loves is Lawrence Dimick. A kiss to the neck, a kiss to the cheek, those aren't even seals of fucking approval. They're just a natural given.]

Take your shower, I'll be in bed.

[He pats the paw on his knee. As for whose bed? Larry's of course.]

[After that shower he took a particularly long time to get to bed. And while there he kept to himself. Maybe he's not the cuddling type but usually they sleep closer together. Or contact just happens during the night. The old man woke tight lipped. It remained that way after the first cup of coffee.

Three cigarettes have been sucked down by this man already.]

You hungry?

[Yeah, Newendyke. He means you.]

I don't think we got much around.

[Honestly, Larry doesn't want to go out. But the man is hungry. So...]

A little.

[Minimal contact, tight-lippedness, and chainsmoking have all not gone unnoticed by one Newendyke. He thinks this may be about the bird because Freddy also didn't not notice the tension in the old man's body, the lines in his face. Maybe Larry's just decided to keep it all in and that isn't fair to him. Come on Newendyke, speak up.]

Are you okay?

[Basic question to gauge. Sure it makes the kid look kind of dumb as a rock because White does not look okay, but it's better than presuming the man wants to blow. Larry's temper can be explosive however he's just...different around Freddy.]

We can go out.

[His lips move like he is going to say more but he stops and looks to a place away from Freddy. Frustration is apparent on his features as he shakes his head.]

I didn't sleep good.

[Which is not a lie. And not an answer to the kid's questioning like a seasoned pro to interrogations.]

[One pluck and he's got a Marlboro between his lips too. This kind of seasoned pro to interrogations still knows a perp on the edge when he sees one, except this time he has no reason to believe Larry's perpetrated anything. In fact it's Freddy who caused a breach in trust, and its more his familiarity with Larry than his experiences as a cop that tells him the old man's not cool.]

We don't have to.

[He still hasn't lit the cigarette yet.] Do you wanna yell at me? [You you you, you always think it's about you, Newendyke. Well considering the bird biz...]

[Lawrence "Two Guns" Dimick should know better. He's giving away too much in his body language. It's too fucking tense. There's something seriously distracting him. He's listening for something else in the quiet of the apartment. Something that isn't the words coming out of Freddy's mouth.]

I wanna get out of here.

[Though he doesn't extend from that. There it is again. The looking away after saying it to the air or...something. It's highly evasive. When Freddy asks if he wants to yell all attention is on the man.]

Yell at you? [Brown eyes squint and he spreads his hands his open hands.] No. I don't. Just--let's just go. Please.

[The fact that Larry wants to leave the apartment is a different kind of telling all together. That's unusual for him and clues the kid into the fact that this isn't about Sam at all. They were out for hours yesterday just because of the toucan. This is something else.]

Okay. [Freddy nods. 'Let's' he says, together. 'Please' he says. That's both a relief and a worry. He gets up while lighting the cig, smokes on an empty stomach, ain't no thing to this kid. He looks at Larry, trying to make that curiously intense eye contact again.] What's wrong?

[Again he'll ask just because he can. Freddy's got the keys and his jacket.]

I don't want to talk about it.

[Seldom is he this directly evasive. It's cowardly to a man who always says what he wants even though it is an expression of wants. As far as he's concerned the investigation is shutting down. The questions will multiply. She'll hear.

He'll busy himself getting his coat and yet another smoke. He isn't going to hold off on lighting it like Freddy. It's ignited instantly.]

Come on.

[Get on with the day it needs to start with breakfast and ending this conversation.]

[That sort of evasion makes Freddy put the brakes on. He stops with himself between Larry and the door, in other words he's a foxy wizard and the old man's a bearog.]

You don't have to talk about it but maybe there's something I can do man.

[Come on the kid still wants to achieve atonement somehow even if the old man doesn't quite need it. If Larry has an unrelated problem Freddy wants to back him up all the way.]

No. There's nothing you can do.

[That solid and certain of a statement comes out without hesitation. Another brick wall. Roll again, foxy wizard. Bearog is intent on trying to pass.]

How do you know that?

[Freddy asks, rolling the dice again because he thinks he can risk possibly going down the endless mine.]

Fuck! You just can't okay?

[Fatal hit to whatever defenses he's attempting to hold up. Larry steps back trying to recover from his slip.]

Gimme a minute. I'll be fine.

[Watch him as he tries to slip away a moment to a room or the bathroom attempt to "reason" with whatever the situation or emotion he's trying to reign in. He wants so badly to grab a hold of that line for all he's worth.

She's saying the most horrible things he'd ever dream she would say to him.]

Hey.

[Now Freddy's the one getting a little angry. He stares at Larry only to watch the other man just slip away as if from his fingertips. What the fuck is wrong? Whatever it is sounds ten times worse than a missing toucan, and to the kid a missing toucan was a big deal. Even though they're to get word on Sam sometime today, Sam is not the main concern on his mind. He follows Larry to the bathroom but only hovers in the doorway, at first.]

What happened? What happened to you?

[In the movies the fella grasps his head and crumbles to his knees. They keep on shouting shit like Make it stop! Shut up! Someone help! This old man is doing it except in his own way last night and thought it was done. Maybe it wasn't as explosive--Freddy was trying to sleep but he can feel it bubbling up.

The only son of mine living a life like this. I would have believed you would grow up stronger than the both of us now I see you've taken after your father. ...and Worse. You could have gone to college or joined the military! Look at the choices that you've made.

Such deviance. All swearing. You should know better! And you're fornicating with a man! Oh, Lawrence that's a sin! And would you look at him? There's still hope for him. You best let him alone. How disappointing.

This bathroom is full of dust. You should scrub it on your hands and knees. That's the only way to do it right. It keeps rolling on and on in her voice.

Paws fumble with the faucet sink as he fills his hands and douses his face. It's not going to wash away what these words are doing to him. Maybe they'll hide anything his eyes are betraying.]

Gimme a second.

[He's trying to push the door shut with his toe.]

[Oh hell naw that door ain't shuttin', Freddy puts his hands on it and if that's not enough well the bear will have to wrestle him out. However he doesn't ask anymore questions, at least not yet, giving Larry some time to collect his thoughts or soak his face or whatever it is the old man needs. It almost scares Freddy, the way he's carrying on, but for Larry's health instead of his own. He doesn't think there's a beatdown coming his way (Larry promised it would never happen again).]

Here.

[When it seems like the other man's face couldn't get any wetter he offers a towel.]

[See? He's a good boy. Helpful. I know what you're thinking, Lawrence. You better stop that. That's not how you are supposed to feel. If your father knew about this. Well. Thank God he doesn't know. I would have thought better of you. Larry flinches as he looks away from Freddy's face to take the towel at least.

Fine. No shut door.

Are you a complete brute? Say 'thank you', son. It is the very least you can do. Show some manners. Then I think it would be prudent to go upstairs and think about all that you have done.]

For God's sake! Yeah. Yeah I took the Lord's name in vain. I'll do it again if it pleases me shut up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You don't know a thing about me. If you're surprised well then maybe it's because you weren't fucking there!

[This outburst is directed right beside Larry. He doesn't get any time to be satisfied with it as his now dry face is covered with both paws.]

Edited 2011-05-08 07:00 (UTC)

.......

[Holy fucking shit on a pogostick bouncing up and down an orc's nutsack. The bearog's gone berserk but the foxy wizard still stands. Just keep calm, Newendyke. Keep calm, Larry's not crazy, this is beyond unlike him. Freddy swallows a lump in his throat. That cigarette's totally burnt out on the floor from his own surprise.]

Larry. Who are you talkin' to?

[Super effective. The bear stands still and looks at Freddy with more of a deer in the headlights kind of a stare then that of any monster. The was trying to prevent himself from anything like that. He remains on the retreat combing his hair and attempting to fix the towel so that it sits on the rack perfectly folded in half. That doesn't take long. What other ideas can he have? What else can he say?]

You can't see her or hear her.

[Great that sounds perfectly reassuring and sane. Huff. Larry rubs his eyes as though putting it out for someone else to hear pains him....because it does.]

It's my Ma. She's right here.

[He motions to the air once more beside him but there's nothing there at all.]

Fuck. Okay. Fine. Mother this here is.... [Is what, Lawrence? What do you call him? This is highly irregular. There are plenty of women out there who could suit yo--] Shut up. This is Freddy.

[When he came apart at the seams at the warehouse the day everything went to hell Larry thought that was the worse. Maybe he's wrong.]

Freddy. [Brown eyes beg for all he's worth that something can allow the foxy wizard to continue in this leg of the dungeon however deep and dark.] This is [the word my breaks on his lips, he recovers quickly unwilling to fall that fast Ma.

Edited 2011-05-08 07:15 (UTC)

Who.

[Freddy pushes on, wanting to know the name of this person, this...phantom, haunting his Lawrence Dimick. Is it someone he knows? Is it someone he killed? Shit is it someone he once loved? Still loves? What if it's--oh. Oh fuck. No fucking way. Is this the city's idea of a sick fucking joke? Not even sick, it's fucking cruel. Freddy doesn't know what to fucking do at all. Should he say something?

At the very least, Freddy does not think Larry is making shit up. Either she's cursed to be there back from the goddamn dead or he's cursed into hallucinating her. Drugs don't enter the equation for a second.]

Larry...

[He swallows, heart racing. He doesn't know what to say to the dead mother of his closest friend. It all sounds so fucking ridiculous, maybe even demeaning to all those involved.] I can't see her...

[The kid doesn't mean 'therefore you've gone loco' the kid means he doesn't know where to start with Ma.]

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