orangetoughguy | phone post

Don't sweat it you're not the first brass who's had to moonlight in security.

[Distaste or no distaste, Freddy sympathizes. In his eyes, a job in security is an act of desperation when you can't support yourself or your family on the department paycheck. It's a step down for a police officer, a step he never wants to make. Except he works as a mechanic now so he's not one to talk, even when his boss is Tony Stark.]

Didn't know you've got magic skills.

[Really, one could make the argument that the bodyguards have got the better end of the deal where Raymond's from. It's much rarer that they encounter actual danger on the job, anyway.]

I'm not. She does.

[But he didn't miss that first part.] You know that from experience?

[Say it aloud so Orange here can out himself with the admission if less danger is a qualification for 'better' then someone ought to turn in his badge right now.]

Clients can be a killer. [That's a joke more than anything, considering turnover rate and the risk of a high profile celebrity throwing a bodyguard under the bus.] Naw, I never worked security.

[His non-smoking hand reaches out to press against Raymond's back, urging the guy to move farther away from other people milling.]

[Raymond goes where he's directed, though not without a glance spared for the others around them.]

It's a heavy industry where I'm from... The rich won't go anywhere, do anything without a shadow two steps behind them to make sure no one tries to cut their time short. But it's not an easy industry to get into.

[This corner will suffice. They're still within public sight, within witness range if something should happen, but nothing's going to happen. Right? Raymond's dangerous but not a danger to him, so Freddy likes to believe. They're out of earshot from other people, that's the important part.]

Is that why you're stuck in law enforcement?

[He doesn't think that's the answer, not for a guy who's supposedly spent, what, seventy years as an officer? Raymond doesn't fit the profile.]

[That gets a grim smile out of him.]

I find it easier to live knowing that what you're doing benefits the whole of society, not just the upper crust.

A true blue brotherhood.

[He says with what could almost pass as sarcasm but that bitterness is more for people who don't get it.] The most thankless job on the whole fuckin' planet. Guys go into it wanting to save the world, it takes less than month to learn half the world doesn't want saving. Least of all from a guy like you. Huh?

[Raymond thinks on that for a moment, then snorts. Truer words and all that...]

Except most guys where I'm from don't go into it wanting to save the world. They're just looking for a way out. [Like him.]

Well I feel sorry for your world.

[Sort of. Kind of. No actually Freddy can't imagine living in a place and time where the latter is the ultimate commodity. It already kind of is where he's from but at least no one as fallible as a human being can control it.]

I guess we're not that alike.

[Their worlds or as men, but he doesn't specify.]

Seems like everyone here does.

[He could laugh about that, but he won't. Most of the time he's never completely sure whether they really mean to say that they feel sorry for him, and that's something he'd rather not find out.]

Anyway... Fifty years on the beat can give anyone a little perspective on things.

Long time. That makes you one of the Old Guys, when they start telling stories about you to make boots shit their pants.

[Cop talk. It's obvious he's a cop. Does Orange even have to come out and say it? Damn he hasn't even negotiated some sort of trade off with Raymond either. It's too easy to fall into a rapport like he's a guy from another agency but in the end you're all still a bunch of fucking pigs to the rest of the world. As long as he's not federal though, Orange draws the line at feds, like that Olivia chick.]

[He'd already been coming to that conclusion himself; this just confirms it. Raymond nods, as if confirming it to himself.]

Not that it means much to the people at the top... Not in these times, anyway. No one respects experience like they used to.

Cops ain't immune. [He shrugs and takes the last pull of his cigarette.]

I don't have fifty years on me period, old man. [Weird to say it but he's able to divorce conversing with Raymond from conversing with Mr. White. It holds a different meaning with the latter.] But I got experience. Maybe nobody respects it, what matters is how I use it.

[He snorts again, shaking his head.]

Fifty years is a long time to spend being pushed around, and maybe you'll get to find that out for yourself...

But just try to imagine it with no end in sight, except for one that gets you killed. That's what it's like on the beat back home.

Damn.

[Making it to fifty as a cop, working his way up to Detective III or maybe even Metro, that's a dream come true. But even wide-eyed Freddy knows the possibility is a longshot. There are boots who get killed less than a year out of academy, like Marvin fucking Nash. He shakes off a shudder.]

You got a lady back home?

[He thinks he knows the answer to this one but it's always appropriate to be sure.]

[Now there's a question he wasn't expecting.]

No. There's not enough time to keep up anything serious. [A beat.] In either sense of the word.

[Then he looks back at Orange. He could ask him why, but he has a feeling he already knows.]

[Haha, he said time, but Freddy's not laughing over it or anything. To him it's just conversation. Maybe if he were from Raymond's world he'd see more irony.]

I gotcha.

[Not enough time, not enough patience, and too many issues to maintain what he thought was a serious relationship. Maybe it was too serious. Freddy doesn't have to tell Raymond the failure rate for relationships with LEO types is pretty damn high in his world. Hell, he doesn't really take Raymond for the emotionally attached type anyway. That's exactly what Freddy thinks he needs right now.]

I can take you back unless you're just up the street or something. [Is his ulterior motive coming through? It's hard enough being an undercover cop, being a gay one is like asking for career suicide. But this isn't their world and that's why it shouldn't matter. Right?]

[Just as he suspected. Not that Raymond has any particular reason to suspect him of anything else, of course, not whatever issues or relationship troubles he might have or anything else; despite whatever camaraderie they might have, it doesn't interest him, and he doesn't care.]

Your place would be better.

[But he needs this, too.]

Fine.

[Guess what his place is, Raymond, it's going to be a goddamn motel. But they're going to take his bike to get to it so none of these people have to see them walk in and walk out. Anonymity doesn't really matter because they're acquaintances however some sense of privacy is preferable.]

[Nice. Anonymity doesn't matter much to Raymond at all, at least not in a place like this, but the privacy is appreciated, even if the motel itself causes him to raise an eyebrow.]

Nice digs.

[Are you going to complain, Raymond? Because you can, then Orange might just elect to use a wall instead of a bed. But really, part of using a room here is to keep him from being detected at where he's currently calling 'home' which is the City Solutions building. He's already sure JARVIS is on to him and for whatever reason is keeping its mouth shut. Who knows.]

Haven't you seen worse?

[Keys tucked into his pocket, he's already moving off to the little lobby desk to pay for the place. It gives him the power to throw the other man out if for whatever reason he has to.]

Much worse.

[Which means that no, he is not complaining. But that doesn't mean he wouldn't mind the wall. Maybe.

He watches Orange, waiting for him.]

[He is thinking about using the floor of their room to be quite honest. Other key in hand Orange motions for Raymond to follow him. It's exactly like a two story revolving-vacancy little lot. You can find them all over Los Angeles, more than likely all over Dayton too. A handful of people would call it home. Up they go to the second floor, he's working the key into the door and when it opens up he's pulling the darker haired man in by the collar. Freddy doesn't feel proud of himself at all but pride's hardly coming into play when he makes an attempt on Raymond's mouth. Well, not that kind of pride anyway.]

[Raymond follows close behind, and when Orange pulls him in, it's almost expected. This isn't the first time he's been tugged into a seedy motel room, after all.

He meets him in a rough kiss, hands going to his hips as he presses against him. There's no curse affecting his judgment this time; this want is all his own.]

[Sorry, Raymond, that's not supposed to be a kiss. He's purposefully evading a full liplock to instead pinch his teeth around Raymond's bottom lip. It's a bite that doesn't draw blood but it might leave an imprint. Hands on his hips are okay, he doesn't carry his sidearms there. One's tucked high under his arm in a shoulder rig, the other's strapped to his ankle. Freddy's hands are moving up his sides to simultaneously feel his body under his fingertips and perform a quick informal pat down. It's an unspoken courtesy; take the guns off.

And it is still surprising that there's no curse swaying Raymond Leon now. Guess the guy really does swing both ways or he's desperate. Not that it matters to Orange whose mouth is grazing the edges of his teeth down Raymond's chin now.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject