orangetoughguy | log post II

So I gotta get drums then, huh?

[As if he's gotta ask. The guitar isn't here yet, but that's how it has to be. He noses the kid to try and hide his guilty planning face. Oh hey it brings them closer together.

This is fucking great.]

What you wanna call this outfit?

Sure, I mean if you wanna. I can always hold auditions or somethin' if you're too shy to join the band.

[Freddy quips while getting nosed. For a big old hardened criminal Lawrence Dimick certainly enjoys holding, touching, and squeezing. The kid don't mind (he loves it).]

How about Two Guys, Too Much Time. Then it's Two Too for short, or TouTou with dots on the last u or on the o's like in Blue Oyster Cult. Then everyone'll think we're really heavy metal and we have no rules.

Hey. Hey. Who said anythin' about being shy? It was a question.

[Larry pulls back with feigned seriousness. Though one can bet money he'll be back to making himself comfortable. The old man sure does like his physical contact especially when its with his man.]

And it sounds too much like tutu. That'd give the wrong ideas too. Or it could be Good Fellas. Though I think we're gettin' ahead of ourselves using good.

Okay. Some Fellas. Dots over the m.

[This is called compromise.]

[The old man rolls onto his back and writes it in the air.]

Some. Fellas.

[Dot. Dot.]

I like it.

[Elbows the kid.]

Good. [Oof. This does not deter Freddy's laughter.] When we get an interview with Rolling Stone we're gonna tell'em the dots were my idea.

Sure they are. So was tutu.

[If we're gonna go down that road.]

We gotta get em first. Then practice. Rolling Stone the week after that. From there... I dunno. What to bands do after that?

[Since it looks like Freddy is the head of this operation.]

[Arms stretching back then bending behind his head to rest easy.]

They tour.

[Where would Larry want to go, he wonders.]

Touring.

[His arms don't go above his head but he has the same dreamy expression.]

How about we do the East coast first, then we'll head West. After that head down South.

[Mexico. Naturally.]

You wanna go to Europe or somethin'?

Okay but if we go east first it has to be in the spring or summer. [Because this kid can't handle east coast or midwest cold weather. Winter in California or Mexico on the other hand is super ideal. Super dreamy too.] I don't know. You ever been there? Like Amsterdam or something.

[He's not just saying that because Amsterdam seems like the place for their type to go or anything...but Larry can't possibly say no to that right?]

To tell you the truth I haven't been over there yet. My passport guy isn't so damn good. I've been to Canada. I was gonna hop a flight out to Spain to see what the fuck it was like and had a hell of a close call.

[Now he feels the need to get a smoke. Larry rolls over to reach for the nightstand.]

Marlboro?

[Oh. Well that puts a damper on their global tour. Freddy slips a hand out from under his head to gesture for the cigarette.]

Light me up.

[A rock and roll fantasy is still just that, something fun to think about, where being a criminal and a cop means nothing. A non-issue. Freddy thinks about shielding their deeper partnership from the paparazzi then getting so famous maybe they can openly say who gives a fuck and blow each other on stage. That's more entertaining than dodging Interpol. Don't dwell on it, think of something more dreamy, Newendyke.]

Know any sweet places where rock stars stay in Mexico?

[Cigarette between his fingers. And a cigarette between Larry's fingers. Click flick of a lighter to light each. Maybe they'd play a few numbers that get the lighter lift. Only they'd know who it's really about.]

Not specifically but I can tell you there are some nice out of the way spots.

[He sucks in a deep drag along with the memories.]

[Freddy takes a shallow pull before blowing rings upward to the ceiling.]

Which one's your favorite?

[He's gonna be relentless in talking about you now, old man.]

[This is because the old man leaned on him to get the whole story of the guitar.]

Las Ventanas al Paraiso in Los Cabos. I'm not 100% on what it all means but it's got paradise in it. They know what they're talkin' about. It's a big property, huge right on the beach. They got golf, pools, salons...

[And they could go together.]

[Puff puff. He already said Spanish really isn't his forte so Freddy shrugs over the meaning, taking Larry's word for it. But damn does it sound nice...and so very Lawrence Dimick. Only the best for him huh?]

So that's where you tan.

[It could be about the guitar. It could be about wanting to know more of Mr. White. It could be both.] I'd check it out.

Down there the water is so fucking blue. Takes your breath away.

[Like a few things. A plume of smoke floats up to mingle in the air with Freddy's above em.]

I tan where there's sun.

[Man made or otherwise.]

You won't regret it. Not at all. Any more relaxed at a place like that you'd be sleeping.

I've never been to a beach like that.

[All the more reason for this kid to go huh? Over the sun comment though Freddy can't help but laugh. Yeah he's seen the old man where if someone looked at juuuuust the right angle they'd stumble upon him naked. A tanning bed on the other hand, that doesn't even occur to Freddy Newendyke.]

Are you on a first name basis with the owner or something? You tan together?

Sounds like you're over due.

[He wets his lips before another drag. They got those on Catalina, but Mexico is where it's at. They should go there first. Though it would ruin the rest of the resorts for life. Ah well.]

One of the managers had a brother who fell into deep, deep horse shit. Down in Mexico they have drug lords and it's all about turf and profit. Well, this brother rolled in the wrong neighborhood and ran into the wrong fucking car. I was passing through, got finished with a job. It was clear he was going to get left in the desert to die. It didn't seem fucking fair.

[Larry leans to tap ash before laying back once more.]

Long overdue. [A nod and puff of agreement. It'd be nice to see blue water, to dig his bare feet into warm wet sand, with Lawrence Dimick sunning himself like a damn seal not far behind. Shit is that too ideal? Too optimistic? Even if it was just for one day, he'd still want it.]

Over a fender bender? [Road rage in LA, sure, but in Mexico? Well he's never been so Freddy just has to imagine it.] Sounds like you both got lucky.

[Tap tap, puff. He shifts again as if there were anymore ways to stick close to Larry.] You're gonna show me around the place one day, man. [He can't promise when or for how long but it's a goal.]

You might have to get a double dose to make up for it. Two or three weeks. Something like that. [Lawrence Dimick is dreaming big. If that's too ideal or too optimistic well, he is guilty as charged.]

A fender bender turns into sabotage or attempted murder in the right kinda eyes.

[It's just something criminals, fucking guilty ones, do.]

Top to bottom. The beach chairs are remarkably comfortable.

[Inhale, exhale.]

I'd fuck you in one.

[Oh yeah, Freddy knows that too. It's just the nature of crime and some cops can also be guilty of it. Not this one though, he's never gone batshit enraged over a fender bender although if someone wrecked his motorcycle...anyway. The kid taps his cigarette for another deeper pull. Then green eyes are looking that-a-way at the old man.]

Are you tryin' to make me hard?

[With the fucking comment, with the dreamy optimism, with the rock and roll fantasy.] Cause if your body's ready I could go for seconds.

[Criminals have the wrap for being stupid to the average Joe. They're shifty eyed and frantic, twirling their mustaches and ready to bust like a powder keg. Not this one though. A lean to the nightstand and he leaves his cigarette in the ash tray. Now he's leaning toward Freddy.]

Somethin' is always ready for you.

[Already spent the man's got hands and a mouth.]

Why? Does that make you hard? Thinking of being on a beach over lookin' the ocean on a resort where nobody knows your name and everybody minds their business where I can bury my cock in your ass as much as I please...that get to you?

[He's not putting his own cigarette away just. The kid sucks down another shallow pull then exhales ring-like patterns.]

Oh yeah?

[Larry does have paws and a muzzle. As for thinking about it, being out on the beach under the warm sun with waves rolling up every other second while Lawrence Dimick plows the shit out of him, yeah it gets Freddy hard. Two can play at this game except he's at a disadvantage of Larry is literally physically spent. Damn.]

Would you fuck me on my hands and knees or put those chair marks on my back?

Well.

[Disadvantage? Maybe. Who can lose when they play like this though? Larry rubs Freddy's chest idly with the back of his knuckles staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.]

I want you to be comfortable. So I could fuck you on your back but then you wouldn't get to see the water. That's the point of going beach side. I think I'd fuck you on your hands and knees.

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