orangetoughguy | log post II

Concepcion y Manuela. At first I thought it was funny but the more we go to the taco stand the more I'm dead certain they believe we're related. Not everybody says it out loud.

[But he knows a look. Shaggy at the guitar store for one. Fuck when it's out in the open out loud it sounds ridiculous but this is what he has been wrestling with.]

Don't get for a second I'm ashamed of you, of us. I'm not.

What? That's bullshit. We're there like every motherfuckin' week man. If I saw a guy hanging out with his dad so much either he works for the old man--[Like Freddy did once upon a time.]--or he's a shitbag and has no fuckin' friends.

[And Freddy wonders why his dad's not his best buddy.]

Come on, we don't even look alike.

[A flappy hand flaps out onto a thick arm to bring Larry over side by side in front of the mirror. Nope, not alike at all. Which doesn't mean one's better looking than the other or anything.]

[Sigh. Larry looks in the mirror, he's a meat and potatoes fella. Freddy? He's lean. His hair is longer and lays wherever it damn well pleases. The old man's has a volume even when damp. Here, he'll move behind Freddy and put his arms around him.

Should he even start to explain how South American families work with and stick around family frequently? Naw. Best let it go.]

Maybe they figure you look like Ma.

[Thick arms are around his waist.]

[Hey now he knows how Mexican families work, gosh. He just doesn't think to think they might apply the same principles to him and Larry or something such. Fff. Thick bear arms around him are a nice touch and when they're like this Freddy can see just how well they fit together, one wrapped by the other. And here he is worrying about being forty-three and aging.]

If anyone asks I'm tellin'em mom's black.

[Freddy says this like he might actually be serious about it. Hey one day he might do it to someone bugging them about the age thing just to see how they react. It's not unbelievable that Larry would knock up some brown sugar either so it all works out. He turns in those arms to face the older man now, hands on his hips, closer to his ass.]

And it ain't like your back's gonna throw out any second.

[Mama brown sugar? Man oh man, does the kid know his appetites. Nosing his ear more he laughs. The undertones of it all, a Pop fucking his good looking kid. It ain't right.]

No. It ain't.

[Not while he's been generous with the Icy Hot and a hot water bottle. Those flappy hands are dangerous. Larry tilts his hips forward to press against him.]

Though I dunno. Somedays're better than others.

[Freddy busts bad guys like that, if anyone knows it ain't right it's Freddy Newendyke. They're nothing like that. And the age thing? Fuck the number, this man guided him up to the heist and kept holding his hand even as he was bleeding all over the fucking place.]

Am I---[Huff for the forward motion. Now they're really close.]--workin' you too hard? Should I lay off the rough stuff?

[He would do it all again in a heartbeat. Even if he didn't find the kid attractive. It was the right thing to do while breaking the law. Kids should be protected, even ones old enough to wield guns and know better.]

That is the very last thing I want.

[His lips brush over his hairline.]

No talk like that. Ever.

[Really, really close.]

[Larry's got some graying and Freddy's got a minor recession going on up there, all part of the stress of being a crook and a cop respectively. That mouth though, it doesn't feel any different from the first time he felt it, and it wasn't by a black magic woman's serenade. He barely felt them when Larry whispered to him in the warehouse.]

Okay. Whatever keeps you feelin'...good.

[Not young because Larry is timeless in ways Freddy can't explain without sounding a bit sentimental.]

[Holding his hand, holding him. The motions were so automatic, so damn easy. Most actions are when it's the two of them. Exposing what some people would call an insecurity is new even for an old man. Freddy can always teach him new tricks.]

You keep me feelin' good. I want it to stay like that.

[For as long as he can help it. It isn't about hair that's for sure. Every little bit could help?]

...so uh you didn't notice.

[His fingers bridge to settle over the small of Larry's back with his thumbs rubbing idly.] The feeling's pretty mutual.

[And a green eye winks before he quirks a brow.] No, I guess I wasn't lookin' close enough.

[What kind of cop are you, Newendyke.] You're real good at working a disguise into your routine.

Mmm.

[Magic hands.]

Careful, you keep doing that I'm not gonna let you stop.

[Toucan do rubbing like that.]

Hah. You should see me in a beard. [Though Larry prefers to be clean shaven. Facing this way he can see the box of dye on the counter.]

...all that shit's in my head then.

[His hands press a little harder.] You're fine without a beard.

[That's code for don't grow one if you want to keep me around. Locking mouths with a bearded man...he hasn't done it and he kind of doesn't want to. Stubble's good though, stubble arouses Freddy Newendyke.]

It's not all in your head. I know people look, I know people talk. I bet they say I'm way too fuckin' tall for you and you're some kind of trophy boy.

I always figured you're the trophy boy.

[This fucking kid. Way too tall. Heh. Beardless he'll press his mouth against his forehead now, along that hairline that's staggering in the face of stress.]

...I don't want to care, cowboy.

[God he loves that mouth. Freddy tilts his head to better fit against Larry.]

It's okay if you do, tough guy. I'm not gonna stop you doin' what you like. [Cocaine and other people more than once excluded.] But you look fine, Larry. Every part of ya.

[Hands grip his ass then roam upward to feel his back and shoulders then his tough biceps and those forearms, one which bears a wildcat.]

[They fit together so well that he'll keep on covering skin even as he's talking. This means he won't have to talk very loudly.]

Even if you'll fuck some silver haired bastard?

[Boy is Freddy slick with his touch and talk. Sweeping all kinds of shit away.]

You'll have to hold onto it when I suck your dick.

If you'll fuck a dishwater blonde kinda guy.

[Freddy counters with ease. They both have excellent characteristics and the both of them have not so excellent ones, ones the kid here can easily laugh over. Like his nose. And his height. Just don't cross the line between endearing and enraging okay?]

Keep calm, I'm not gonna pull it out or anything, I'm nice to my toys.

[Some of his toys would beg to differ.]

And you play real, real nice. [Paws massage his ass.] It makes your toys last.

[Even if it is one round. No, that's not a tender subject. He's proud of how well he holds up.]

We should check up on that roach deal. Fuckers like us are too good to live with vermin in the walls.

[Again he shrugs like the bashful guy he is soaking up in all the attention, affection, and appreciation. He might not admit it much but Freddy does in fact love being showered with whatever Larry's got. His ass is damn malleable in those paws. The kid's hands run back up to those broad shoulders.]

You're telling me. I was ready to take that little fucker out then the bird had to steal all the fuckin' glory.

[And the kid's thunder. So much for playing an exterminator's version of the Mighty Thor and his almighty hammer Mjolnir made up of a rolled car magazine from 2 months ago. Who publishes that stuff in this world anyway, imports?]

We should get in contact with the manager.

[The better to squeeze. He'll put his hands inside the kid's waistband. Lawrence is generous with his attention, affection and appreciation. Especially when it comes to Freddy. There's so much to enjoy. He's got a hell of a sense of humor. Even when they're talking about a sensitive subject he's managed to get a smile and a laugh out of him.

This might have been more difficult to handle with a woman. Then he'd have to explain it...except how much did he actually explain? The kid just fucking knew.]

Maybe someone else is havin' the same problem. ...did you have a window open? I don't think I did.

[We now that Sam can't open windows or doors. ...right?]

It was only one.

[Freddy reasons casually. If only Larry's seen his old apartment and all the potentially roach-rich corners. Some things about a super cool guy straight out of Fresno and into LA don't change. The squeeze has his mind off bugs and bug-eating-birds anyway, hands feel just right sitting under his waistband. White should be so grateful he's not a woman, or maybe Orange should be the grateful one because he's not a woman.]

I keep mine open a little.

[They got screens now specifically because of a certain toucan. Said toucan decides he's been neglected too much for the last 15 minutes so flap flap flap. Incoming and none too soon too. Chirp.]

One's enough. C'mon you see this place everyday. No place for a roach.

[An old apartment in LA is an understandable roach pad. This little slice of heaven in the sky though? Nope. No way. Not in the old man's book not no how. He'd be making a phone call if he wasn't...busy.]

If there are more he'll find em first. [A little louder, like the bird will know if it's being addressed without his name.] Won't you, tough guy?

Who says anyone followed'im?

[Knock on fucking wood, Newendyke. Oh hey speaking of Sam, the bird croaks in response only to hop up on the sink...and start inspecting the box. It's a shiny box. It smells funny. Tearing at it will get them to pay him more attention.]

Whoa whoa hey that's not for you buddy. [Sorry, Lawrence Dimick, the kid's gotta twist around and take the box away from Sam. Wouldn't want to use up whatever's left in there.]

You ever know a roach that took a walk all on his own?

[That's like only one love bird walking on its own. Anyway, no easy feat to pull away but the old man makes it happen one paw at a time. That bird. Larry shakes his head a little. It's uncanny how he can come on in and change up the scene.]

...You can throw it away.

[Because now that it's out in the open, now that they've talked...the whole box can go. If the old man feels a need for it, he won't hide it. Or he'd try a damn salon.]

Gotcha. [Freddy nods while emptying the box into the trash...then giving the box itself to Sam. Let the bird have a bone now and then.] Here buddy. Wait for it.

[The toucan stands patiently until Freddy lowers the box to beak length. Peck peck pinch tear. Look it'll probably keep the bird busy some more. Sam happily takes it back to his cage, at least he won't leave a mess all over the bathroom floor. Count your blessings, Dimick.]

Just to put it out there, I know you tan too.

[Wasn't the bone the insect prize? The kid wanted it first. Sam could have easily used that big ol' beak to get it off of the floor. He's an animal after all. He might be spoiling that bird. Might.]

I don't know what you're talking about.

[Leaning back against the counter he crosses his arms. Crocodile grin means he's bullshitting.]

Just the tone of my skin. I got a Greek uncle.

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