orangetoughguy | log post II

Thanks.

[Careful paws hold it up. Now he's thinking maybe sunglasses might be a good idea again. It's so bright. It only makes his eyes crinkle more as he smiles.]

I used to pretend it was the Olympic torch.

[Larry pantomimes a running pose.]

Really? Did you wanna run?

[That's a joke kind of since it's established the kid here's the better runner but damn wouldn't the old man be good at boxing or wrestling. Those crinkling eyes are a wonder. Freddy laughs at the pose he's striking before setting off two red sparklers himself.]

Not all the people who carry the torch are runners. ....though I think it helps.

[Okay now he'll put on his shades but only foolin'.]

Shit we shoulda brought a radio.

[They do have the car. That could work huh? Larry's not springing to do it because they're chin deep in sparklers right now.]

We can use the car.

[Freddy recommends almost like he's reading Larry's mind. Great ones just think alike, honestly. But likewise he's not doing anything to make it happen. Yet. These green eyes are too busy watching the red and green sparks fly.]

Does it feel any different from a lake?

[Like he is a mind reader. It's magic. All of it.]

Different?

[This wasn't a question he was expecting. He's still smiling because well, this is different because it's them. Because what they got is different. Larry can admit in his heart that he truly did love Alabama is it because of how much time has passed that it feels pale in comparison? The last time at the lake he didn't feel the same hurt, rage and frustration with that woman, did he? No. It was there. Waiting. That was what made him walk away.

If this was a time at they lake they would have fucked by now. It was more secluded.

The old man shakes his head. He leans a little closer, careful of the burning sticks.]

It's not the same, baby. It's better.

I wasn't asking if it's better.

[He says quickly because the last thing Freddy wants is for Larry to think he has to say it's better to make it feel real. It's nice that it is though, the kid couldn't lie about that. Just different was all he wanted to know, and he suspected it is. What a dumb question, Newendyke, good job putting him in a spot.]

But it's good to know.

[Another smile as he crosses his red sparkler with a green one.] Want me to put the radio on?

[May as well do that now than later when it's possible they aren't the only ones setting off loud fireworks.]

I know. [...it could have been what he had wanted to know underneath it.] I wanted you to know.

[Because that much is important. He doesn't feel put on the spot or else he wouldn't still be smiling.]

Sure. Find us somethin' good to listen to.

[Good ol' time jams for the new times.]

Thanks.

[It's a quiet sentimental and genuine expression. Freddy nods just as the sparklers fizzle out, first the left then the right. And just like that the kid's enthusiasm is back up, tossing these aside in the sand (a litterbug in addition to being a firebug) he turns to crawl through the passenger side of the car.]

Good? What's good? What're you in the mood for?

[A nod is his thank you. They don't need to go and be more fond. More soft. Today is about blowing shit up.]

A lil' rock and roll. CCR. Hell, maybe Hendrix. [Which seems more up Freddy's alley.] Who would be good too.

CCR it is my man.

[For some people that's a friendly statement, nothing more. For Orange it's just a little more meaningful in ways most don't know. He turns the radio to something like the equivalent of classic rock. They do blocks, hear? Eventually CCR will roll around, starting with Suzy Q. Freddy leans out of the car to return to the trunk.]

It's your turn.

[Uh huh. His man. Mr. White likes knowing that. He likes hearing that too.]

Gimme somethin' real big, hotshot. May as well get the party really started.

[No innuendo. Ah. The jams are in the air. Larry takes a sip of his beer.]

[The kid lifts what looks like a rocket out of the trunk. It's not a very big rocket but the wrapping around the body suggests it makes an incredibly big bang. No innuendo or anything. He hands the thing over to the old man.]

Do you know how to light one of these or do I gotta teach you?

[He's holding onto it while making subtle movements to the guitar riff on the radio.]

[Glasses fall right down his nose. he whistles.]

Must not be very comfortable to walk around with that when it's all ready to blow.

[Once it's started, the shit can't stop.]

Shove it into the sand, light it and back the fuck up. That about all?

You just gotta find the right place to shoot it, a real good fit.

[Freddy adds because it's a contagious sort of affair. As for how to use it, the kid nods.] Uh huh.

[He tucks his lighter into a paw.] Do it.

[Ocean spray and smoke make it kinda hard to see beyond a few feet. Larry knows he's gonna smell it in his clothes, they might have to be dry cleaned.]

Good show, man.

[He claps a hand on Freddy's shoulder, hard and rough in a tough guy kind of a way.]

I think we've done our country proud.

[With the excessive amount of money spent and firepower used. An America block is playing mellow now with "Sister Golden Hair" though the party just ain't over yet.]

I think we're fucking tapped. [The kid remarks noting there are no fireworks left in the trunk. Nothing doing, they put on a good show. He pats the paw on his shoulder, standing proud with Mr. White.] Nothin' like smoke on the water huh?

[Oh wait that's a different band playing.]

It was bound to happen eventually. We had what? An hour's worth?

[Paw squeezes and he comes a little closer.]

So now what're we supposed to do?

[He looks long one way and then the other. Someone in the distance has a bonfire on the beach. That's pretty darn far away. Larry stands behind Freddy and puts a paw on his hip, now. Is this too close for out doors? It's still pretty smokey.]

[He can feel that pawing, that squeezing, the holding especially on his hip. The bonfire is visible out the corner of Freddy's green eye. Sometimes he wonders if Larry truly would be able to live 'out' so to speak, no secrets from the world at large. Nothing to fear. Only brave men with absolute conviction can handle that, someone braver than himself. Like Lawrence Dimick. But right now the kid doesn't shy away from his hold.]

Don't know. What do you wanna do?

[A flappy hand settles over the back of his paw though he doesn't turn to make eye contact. Yet.]

Oh. I got a few ideas.

[His lips move near Freddy's ear.]

We could head home. Get some sleep. [Which is absolute bullshit.] Or we could get something sweet. Shaved ice, ice cream....

[The hand at his hip is dipping lower and looping with his belt buckle.

Living out. Hah. Well, that's never been an option not in his lifetime. He'll have his secrets about the source of his wealth and the reason why he's a rambling man. That's without even considering his tastes for men. It's really something to think about. Holding hands in front of everyone sure isn't a feat for the weak.]

[Brrrr, the kid doesn't really shiver but the mouth on him feels fucking amazing. He tilts his head back into Larry.]

Naw, I ain't tired. [That rules out sleep.] Where?

[Freddy asks not because he has no idea but because it's another way of telling the rambling man he'll ramble on anywhere after him. Hooked on a feeling after all, or at least by a belt loop.]

[Freddy is a strong, smart independent guy, make no mistake. The old man loves it when the kid leans on him physically or allows him to take the wheel.]

Well. We could go someplace up the street I think I seen as we passed. Think that maybe they got lemon or Orange? I like those.

[Could this be a coincidence?]

Except I forgot that I got something sweet here.

[He takes a careful nip at Freddy's ear lobe.]

They probably got vanilla too.

[To make orange cream. Being a cereal eater the kid's got a sweet tooth on him. The nip to his ear makes him squeeze his shoulder up and smirk.]

Fuckin' flatterer.

[Finally Orange turns around in that hold to face White. The bonfire's far away enough but it still counts as public right? He takes Larry by the face and pulls him into a kiss.]

You like it vanilla?

[He can interpret it however he pleases. How can a bear not like this heavy, rich grade of honey? Freddy tastes like the booze and smokes. Body to body and far away enough that people won't think much so he reaches down to cup the kid's ass. Larry figures they don't look much like two men from far away, this close they could be one big fella. That's if they can see anything past the smoke. Fog should be rolling in too.]

Smoke on the water, huh?

[He licks at the kid's lips.]

You know how I like that song.

[Breathe.] It's a--[Mouths pressing.]--Comfort food.

[Freddy explains, hands on Larry now to hold him in place in the sand, by the car, whichever. Oh shit he's grabbing him. This makes the kid stiffen up a bit in more ways than one.]

Uh huh. You too? [The heels of his palms are rubbing over his biceps.] That's a funny coincidence.

[Once it starts it's hard to stop even in a public place, although with how far off everyone is on the shore Freddy wonders if he's only kidding himself by thinking this is bravery.]

So are you saying [press and tongue slide in and then out slowly] you want some?

[Freddy is sparking another fire with him rubbing over him even if it's just his arms. This alone is pretty ballsy. There's no building to duck behind or alley way.]

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