orangetoughguy | log post II

You honestly fucking think that I got a plan for what's to come? I don't, kid. I got ideas and they're nothin' right now but ideas. Feels like we'll get out of here, that we'll remember. Do I know we're goin' right back to LA? Not a fucking chance.

[That's something he can say solidly right now.]

I'm not asking you for jack shit right now.

[Woah. Larry's eying his hands in case if he's raring to make this fight into a fight. The verbal blows alone smart. Paris was sensitive but nowhere near as much as the kid's desire to see other people. Why the fuck is that relevant to this very moment now? Ain't it all behind them?

And then the killing.]

Why and the hell do you believe that I feel like you don't care enough? I know all you're dealin' with. All of it. Y'don't got to apologize either. Fucking shit.

[As he's talking he can feel his face still stinging.]

Stop acting like it's all bad, like I'm gonna fuck you over. I'm not. Can you get that through your thick skull?

[A big thick pointer points at that noggin.]

[No fights here. Not yet anyway, but he'll swat that pointing finger aside.]

Because you walk away! You walk away from me every time! You walked away now, for fuck's sake you walked away last week. [What do you expect from a rambling man, an ex-con-now-fugitive. Fuck don't think that way, Newendyke. Freddy shakes his head.] You turn around like it ain't no thing when I know that's bullshit, it hurts you.

[There's emphasis there because Freddy's fairly sure if Larry didn't want him to know he's hurt then Freddy would never ever know. Mr. White is a fucking professional.] Why does it hurt you, huh? Because it's not what you want or because it's not how you thought I'd be, huh?

[He's getting face to face with the other man, far within fists' reach though they aren't flying yet.]

[DING! If this were a carnival test of strength that Freddy has to get a rise out of the old man he'd have himself a big ol' prize.

Larry's toe to toe and his voice is far louder than it should be for a calm, collected conversation. Oh wait. That's not what it's become.]

What the fuck am I supposed to do? Huh? Beat a dead horse?

[Huff, puff. His face feels red and that's not because of the smack in the face.]

It's not what you want. I'm not gonna force you into anything you don't want or you're not ready for. No fucking boxes here, pal! It hurts because I know full fucking well I am never gonna be some stainless, straight and narrow. And even if I was that's not the kinda bright and rosy world we live in.

[Not like here. Then again, fucking shit town showing glimpses of things that can't be.]

[What the fuck is he supposed to do? Freddy feels too proud (or foolish) to say he'd like for nothing more than to have Larry rub his paw over his head and tell him it's all right, that it's gonna be okay, and that he's not rotten for thinking or feeling differently. Is he rotten? Is the kid a poor insensitive fuck up for telling him no? The more this goes on, the harder it is for him to imagine changing his own answer or that his answer can be changed at all.]

I don't want you to be some stainless straight and narrow fuck!

[He'd be sucking on therapist cock if that were the case, he'd be with a woman if he wanted an easy normal way of life, be there but empty for her. Be a good cop without any heart left to get the job done and done right. Easy and by the book. Except that wouldn't be easy at all would it? Freddy's not truly happy not being himself, no matter how much he's been taught differently.] I just want--

[Suddenly the kid's losing steam, he chokes. He licks over his dry lips, averting his greener gaze. Those sour apples have never lit up with more life for a person than for Mr. White, but it's not so simple to say "Yes, I'd run away with you." Freddy breathes quietly.] I gotta get outta here for a little while.

[It would be easy if Larry were an ordinary chump except ordinary chumps don't go in on diamond heists. And if they did they're not alive long enough to try and save a fallen comrade's life. Hearing that is not what the kid wants takes the piss out of the old man. A little.

What does he want? What the fuck does he want? After the cross business, Larry knows far better to to be asking way too many questions. It isn't enough that he's confronted with the curse matter, this now though? This cannot rest.]

Don't go running now too.

[Taking a risk for another hit, Larry reaches out to take a grip on his arm.]

We're in this right here. I don't want to have to pull it all out more than it has to be.

[Voice is stern but not shouting.]

[Freddy doesn't swing again to hit Larry but he does shake and twist his arm like he's trying to get away. It's an instinctive reaction, not wanting to be touched by the one person who comes closest to being able to make Freddy Newendyke do almost anything for him. Almost.

He doesn't say anything more to that stern voice, the firm statement. Orange still can't look at him, Freddy can't look at him without feeling like his is the lightly freckled face of a screw up, a coward. But he doesn't try to flee his grip. Hell, where would he go anyway except walking alone?]

[Silence hurts too. Larry can't express that yet. Sometimes he feels like he's a menopausal bitch. All these fucking emotions coming out in a big, big way and with someone to articulate them too that don't think less of his masculinity. Fuck man.]

Hey. Come on now.

[It's a soft murmur. His arm slides down and his arms wrap around the kid whether he likes it or not. No other words to say but hold him. That's all the can do right now. Now is all that they got. Fuck tomorrow.]

Shit...

[Freddy utters, quietly again but not under his breath. He's caught in those thick arms, caught in a wildcat's clutches. This man would be happy running away together to a hacienda in some Latin American country. Cut off from his old life, maybe for Larry it's harder to imagine. Freddy's never told him he's thought about glimpses of a possible future too, has he? One where his mom and sister are fucking charmed out of their minds by Lawrence Dimick, much to Freddy's boyish disgust (and secret pride). He could never tell him, how? His hands fall low on Larry's waist.]

[Brief closed lipped kisses for each temple before just holding onto him. He thought about it, of course he thought about what it would be like day to day if they were on their own against the world away from the law that Freddy enforces and that Larry runs from. Nobody knows what'll happen. Larry doesn't even know if he would ever extend that kind of an offer. He wets his lips.

Nothing can be forced. That's the problem with curses. They'll drop all over a guy, get him twisted then leave them scrambling. Here they are, scrambling.]

It's not your fault, baby. It's not my fault. I didn't ask to get a peek into that. I know you didn't either.

[Those kisses, one to each side, feel so hot to the kid like they might burn him. Is it contradictory to want to be branded Dimick's while being incapable of running away with him at the drop of a hat? Fuck this is exactly what that city shit does, this is exactly what it wants isn't it? Freddy swallows a hardness in his throat.]

I don't know what else to tell you, Larry.

[He whispers, wanting to fix this or do whatever it takes to make it better because being imperfect with Lawrence Dimick is far more preferable to being righteous without him. The kid reaches up to frame where he hit the old man, not touching the mark but still edging around it.]

[Sure it's red and the size of a Freddy paw it isn't as bad as it could have been. Whatever hurt that comes out of the hit is not as hurtful as a fight with his man. He keeps looking into Freddy's face, trying for eye contact.]

Okay, Freddy. That's okay. There ain't much more you can tell me if you dunno.

[Nose hovers at his temple again. What a mess. Sure he wasn't expecting a good and easy conversation, but tis went down too hard and fast in the wrong direction. It's not their fault. He breathes in and out in the moment.]

[It takes a little while because he's so focused on the print he's left on Lawrence Dimick's face, then finally those caramel greens shift in focus to settle on warm brown eyes. Those fucking lines around them get Freddy every time. He's an old man who could do a lot better than this kid, as far as Freddy's concerned.]

Okay...

[Another swallow, then a nod. There's no good reason to get any madder, he's said what he said, he can't take it back. Part of him doesn't want to seeing how Larry's still holding him despite every biting word. Maybe Dimick was actually listening too.]

Okay.

[Here. He'll tilt his head a little if he wants to inspect the red mark. Eyes don't stray far from Freddy's if they do at all. There's a change in color too. The man's still in his twenties and after that he'll be in his thirties. There's so much more in this world to offer him, things that aren't accessible even by theft. Maybe he really does not have a clue what he wants at all even when he says he doesn't want a straight and narrow fuck. Far be it from Larry to tell Freddy what he wants. That's just it. No villas or haciendas, no matrimony.

Every word is deserved. Not wanting more doesn't mean that he doesn't want things to keep going. He sighs.]

I'm sorry.

[Not yet anyway, that's the part the kid doesn't know how to articulate right. Maybe it won't always be no and neither can he promise a yes. Who knows how he'll feel in a week, a month, another year. Shit how long have they been living together? No way in hell could Larry have wanted to run away together so soon after their ordeal...except that's what they did isn't it? When they circled this island they were looking for the border. Nevermind what was going through the kid's head at the time, the old man clearly had their safety at the top of his list. Their safety first.

He finally stops pawing at the mark to embrace Larry, hard and firm, like he almost lost a friend.]

Me too. I care about you, okay? [Breathe, Newendyke. He talks with a shake to his voice like he's trying to fight off that fuck Orange became when Freddy lost part of his memories.] I want you and I need you, man.

[Getting the fuck out to safety where no one would find them. That was the initial plan. Everything else has been a surprise. Friends first, then fucking one another, then seeing other people...this.

They're different. Freddy's got a cross hanging in his room and comic book heroes on his shelves. What does he know and want about settling down? What does a forty-three year old man, steadily fucked and constantly adored have to worry about other than a warrant?

Brown eyes blink rapidly to keep seeing clearly. The bullet hole grade words feel better hearing that this old fuck that says the wrong things is still wanted and needed.]

I love you.

[And he'll hold him tighter. Be glad for what he's got at all. Who knows if it'll be fucked up by some real blow that's not a curse that ends.]

I need you too.

[His fingertips dig into the other man's back, that's how intense he feels. Enough to claw into Lawrence Dimick just to make sure he knows Freddy doesn't want him going anywhere.]

Right back at you, old man.

[Freddy says with a shudder only to amend his seemingly noncommittal remark in a whisper.] I fucking love you, Larry.

[Larry shuts his eyes and holds him just to hold him. No one needs to be fucking dying to clutch at him like this. They don't even need to be fucking. He's slowly fitting back together after being blown apart.]

We're fine as we are.

[His voice breaks a little at the end.]

[Part of what makes Lawrence Dimick so damn hard to resist is the fact that they don't have to be fucking or dying to be held. Freddy can hardly call it resistance too because he has no desire to resist, not anymore.]

Go for a walk with me.

[Something normal, some fresh air even though Freddy has every intention of smoking along the way. No he doesn't plan on bringing the toucan, as long as he can spoil the beast with a huge stem of grapes to keep him busy.]

[Larry combs back his own hair with both mitts than Freddy's a little to make it look a bit more put together.]

Okay.

[Huff. The bear looks to the bird a second. Where did he-? Oh. He was hiding out during all that. Good idea. Shoes on now. He holds the door open for the kid when he's ready to go.]

[His hair just flops right back into place without any gel or wax to keep it styled but that's okay with Freddy. That's how this hound is. After sticking grapes in the cage, prompting a toucan to hop out of the log and perch happily, e-ee-e-e-ee-e'ing cheerfully before feasting on the stuff, Freddy locks the cage door again then grabs a hoodie and pulls on his shoes. He gives the old man a look just as he's stepping through the doorway, something soft but wordless.]

[That look. Larry shuts the door enough to obscure them and the inside of the apartment as he leans forward to say something wordless with his mouth against Freddy's.

I'm sorry.

I love you.

You make me so happy.

Sometimes he can be a stupid old man who thinks he knows and wants everything.]

[This kiss doesn't surprise him even though he can't say he saw it coming, but when it does these hands are on Larry and this mouth right on his to return the sentiment.

I don't know what I'd do without you. You piss me off so fucking much. I love you.]

[You're the best thing I got. Slowly as it simmers down he pulls away. That's a smile just for Freddy Newendyke right there. Now he'll open the door.]

[Freddy's smile isn't as wide, not quite like a floppy haired kid's usual grin, but with good reason. When they're on their way out, at some point (granted where they're in a less crowded place in which people won't know who they are) he'll guide one of those bear arms around himself to stuff Larry's paw into his own hoodie pocket. That's where it's easiest for him to slip his own hand on top of the other, subtle and out of sight.]

log post II

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