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]

[He's not bleeding to death on a ramp or anything but Freddy's patting and rubbing away at his forehead before he balls up the paper and tosses it.]

It's okay, Larry. You did good. Nobody thinks you gotta get through this like you're fucking untouchable, okay?

[The kid means it, fucking sincere.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Damn. He didn't know his skin was so hot. The wet paper towel feels better than it should. Larry tilts his head this way and that after a few dabs to best enjoy it before it's thrown away.]

Okay.

[Freddy Newendyke, his own personal hero.]

I'm trying. Believe me.

[Please. Two more seconds and he could have tried to get into the stall and get the coke.]

[orangetoughguy]

I believe you, baby.

[They're in a mens room in a casino that's have a crazy party farther out. What's the likelihood of someone coming in now? Probably not. So the kid wraps his arms around Larry for a tight squeeze.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Chances are if anyone did they're wasted enough to think it's two fellas and a bad trip rather than two love birds. Big arms go around Freddy.]

I needed that.

[Belief, intervening flappy hands and the whole damn deal.]

Take me home.

[Escorted by Christie.]

[orangetoughguy]

[He can be a superhero too, see? These flappy hands give firm pats to those thicker arms. Mr. White's not a small man, that's for sure, but even the hardest toughest guys need a little help sometimes, and Freddy certainly is little. Just don't ever call him that.]

I got a helmet with your name on it.