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]

[Feathery head, big beak, comfortable right where he is and thus making it impossible for Freddy to get up and pull Larry into his arms without crushing the toucan. Maybe that's Sam's plan, maybe Sam's just a dumb bird who doesn't know better.]

I fuckin' love you, Larry.

[So instead he squeezes that paw, hard and firm. Almost too hard and slightly shaking.] You can have a thousand Bobbys and Bamas, it don't change a thing.

[Seeing the old man die twice (Three times? Does the gunshot he suffered when they came here count?) really fucking gets to him.]

[whitetwoguns]

[That damn bird. Is Sam able to feel meaningful looks in the same way that he deals them out? He's got one right now however short. Since he can't hold him or go into his arms Larry lifts his hands to his mouth to kiss before leaning forward.]

One Freddy.

[All this man needs. And Freddy needs one Dimick. The other two...not so hot.]

One Larry. Good enough from there.

[orangetoughguy]

[E-ee-e-ee-e-e-e-e. What? Oh. The toucan stares at Lawrence Dimick for a few beats before beating it. Hop hop flap flap. Up to perch on the back edge of the couch instead, fff.]

Good enough for me, man.

[He presses his fingers to that mouth before freeing his other hand to pull Larry towards himself. Freddy utters with conviction and fear.] I don't wanna see you down like that again, you stupid son of a bitch.

[whitetwoguns]

[That's what he thought. Get a move on little bird. This bear is being pulled. Larry lays however he can with the kid, half on the couch not putting anymore weight than he has to on Freddy.]

You won't.

[Not in his book. The city is never going to ask what he thinks. Until that day he can only offer up his word.]

I'm right here, cowboy. I'm right fucking here.

[Lips touch his forehead. His paws touch against his stomach.]

Are you still hurting?

[orangetoughguy]

[Half on him, half not. That's how that's gonna work. Freddy locks his arms around Larry, green eyes half-lidding when he feels the other man's mouth on him.]

A little. I'll fuckin' live. [That's the goddamn important part.]

[whitetwoguns]

[This close Larry can breath in Marlboro, chocolate and booze flavoring Freddy's breath. His own eyes shut a few moments to appreciate the warmth of his skin. Not much bloodshed for putting a body to rest, no matter what he looks like. It don't matter. This here is worth fighting for, worth all the bullshit from all directions.]

You better. Don't make me go and get you. You wouldn't like it.

[He's mildy impressed with his own delivery, like it was possible. A long exhale and he opens his eyes again.]