When it is just them and this house out of the way he can lean in to give his man a kiss. A hello. No deep, resonating or primal thoughts to it. Isn't that just what they should be? Given and taken like pennies. Larry still feels like somehow it makes something better. His mouth brushes on Freddy's lips and up close he about noses the bullet scar in his cheek. Years have made it another mark, another notch.

Without asking he can tell that dinner is heated. All is well. That saves a few words.

"How was your day?" There he goes on asking. Guns and light jacket are removed as he steps further in. His shoes click over the terracotta tiles. There's the TV on again. It could be their other roommate. He suspects once again that this has been the most eventful happening. All the same he asks.