whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

Yeah, I did.

[A nod. He can tell Larry's not happy with him at all but it's better than how Freddy felt, leaving the apartment over their argument about his back. There are more important more serious issues to consider these days.]

I know it was him, Larry. I know his fuckin' face and--

[What. His brow furrows.] I wasn't fuckin' around out there. That guy hit me.

[Talking while a pissed off is so much better than not talking at all. Can they not do that for the rest of the year? That would be wonderful.]

I know. What I mean to say is we gotta keep extra tabs close on one another.

[Freddy went out. That much he knew. But where and how long he'd be away. That wasn't a very clear fact.]

If you hadn't picked up I dunno where I would have started.

[Matter of fact, old man. Yeah. Stick right about there.]

...smoke?

[It's a new years resolution they can work towards, sure.]

I know, Larry. I didn't plan on tradin' blows.

[He's not going to apologize for getting into a fight against his will but he's sorry the old man worried at all. He's sorry Christmas sort of didn't go off like he'd envisioned it too. Shit they even have themselves a little tree to match that wreath from the flower shop. Real domesticated romantic fairytale shit. He's sorry it wasn't ideal.]

...Sure. [He reaches out for a smoke. Have they really spent any time talking about what to do with that guy here?]

[One step at a time. Right now the best step he can think of is to shut the fuck up and consider what he's asking when he asks it.

A nice quiet day at home sleeping in for hours ain't so bad by the old man's count. Tree? Who needs one. That wreath was about as close to decorations as he thinks they'll get being tough guys. All that domestic bliss are things he has yearnings for, and sometimes he does everything in his power to squish those impulses. There's a time and a place, and rarely are they in his reach when it comes to big statements like that.

For Freddy's birthday it was a gamble. He thought for a moment it would get turned down since it was so fucking sentimental and romantic, hell even could be typical. It's what straight and cozy couples do in the winter. Their fancy dinners are more common, it's like breaching that typical average barrier that keeps both men and their relationship out.

Right now he's busying himself to get Freddy his Marlboro. So far the plan has been 'keeping in touch' which they do anyway. ...No they haven't quite talked about what they are going to do.]

We need to figure out what to do from here on out since...looks like he's not gonna make himself known easily.

[Larry will light it in his own mouth then pass it off to the kid.]

I should tell my boss, you should tell yours that uh...we got some people that want some trouble and we're not lookin' for that.

[He takes that smoke for a much needed pull, even against his cut lip. Fuck that feels good. His exhale sounds a lot like a sigh, then caramel green eyes focus on Larry again.]

What the fuck do I say? Shit Larry I can't tell if he's dead or alive.

[That scares Freddy the most. If he's dead then he'll already have a good reason to want the kid's head, if he's not...then...well what the fuck do you do? What if Blonde hasn't gone fucking berserk yet? Do you tell the whole town he's likely to? Leave it alone? Fuck fuck fuck.]

[Sounds like? Isn't that a sigh. Larry takes his own puff and then scratches his eyebrow with his thumb nail.]

I think we should be cautious either way, even if he don't know about how the heist went down that's no reason for us to get involved with him. [Provided they see him again at all. Larry leans forward and rests his arms on his knees, cigarette between his lips.]

We need allies and people to turn to just in case. They don't need to know everything. Fuck, if anything we just gotta say the whole damn story.

[Cigarette has to stop bobbing as he speaks to tap off the ash in the ash tray.]

How, Larry. Keep tabs all day every day? Don't walk home alone anymore?

[Freddy won't say he can take care of himself because he knows that's not what this is about. They can't ever say with absolute certainty neither of them are safe with Blonde around.]

I don't know if he knows we're here. Nobody's fuckin' talked to him.

[At least the weasel hasn't said anything about it. Watch the kid suck on his cigarette real fast, stressed.]

[Why does he have to use a tone like that? Honestly the old man doesn't know. H erubs his forehead.]

We got the devices, that wouldn't be bad to check in to let me know where you are, when you're heading back. You know I'd do the same for you.

[Even though it would put him at better ease, Larry knows that Freddy would never go for a body guard.]

Nobody we know of yet. Someone's gotta have talked to him.

[He looks like he's about to say something more but then Freddy just runs his freckled fingers through his dirty mess of brown-blonde hair.]

I know you would. I can do it. [Because Freddy doesn't want Larry to work himself up like this.]

If only until we know what's up. Maybe he's from years ago. Fuck, we don't even know.

[They can't live paranoid. That's no way to be at all.]

We know he's out there, we know what he's capable of.

[And it scares the shit out of the old man that no body can stay dead here or else he'd be on it. Listen to you, Dimick. You've kept your nose clean for a decent amount of time and you're raring to kill someone.

Larry reaches over to pat Freddy's knee.]

I don't like it as much as you do but...we gotta do something.

That's why we gotta find out.

[Freddy insists, not playing the overeager gumshoe or anything, it's just something they ought to know for their own safety. Shit man where the fuck is Pink when you need him, he'd be the best of the three to fish out information from Blonde. Then again how would they know the weasel wouldn't defect to his side? Fuck.]

Gotta start somewhere.

[He adds, putting a freckled hand over that broad palm on his knee. It briefly occurs to him that Larry very well could kill for him, but funny how in this case it doesn't matter, Freddy's already killed Blonde once before.]

Should we approach 'im on the network?

[We? Listen to yourself man.]

...maybe me. You know. Just in case.

[Could it be that you have to kill a person a cetain number of times until they're dead? Three strikes then out like a light would be the fairy tale way.

Sucking on more nicotine he curls his fingers around Freddy's.]

[What if he hurts you, that's the first thought on the kid's mind but he doesn't voice it because the old man can take care of himself. Larry's far more versed in that realm, where men take the risk to commit crime, do time for it when they're caught, then come back and do some more because for them it's a goddamn way of life. Freddy Newendyke isn't that kind of man no matter how many times the things a cop does can be construed as criminal; they almost always have the law on their side regardless of who's right or wrong. Probably why men like White, Pink, and Blonde don't care for them enough to not consider a cop a real person.]

You talk to him, I'll check out who's already made contact with him.

[He curls his fingers back in kind and looks at Larry, giving him a nod. They'll work together on a fucking plan.]

On the network first. I'm not gonna say jack shit about you or Pink.

[Jesus fuck, Pink would be great about now. Stupid weasel. He's never around when you actually have a need of him. Sour thoughts, Larry has more faith in Pink than he ever will in Mr. Blonde. That's not to say much, the weasel ratted him out to Blonde when they were trying to figure out which way was fucking up at the rendezvous.

Feels like so long ago. Hell, feels like a whole other world. They're gonna jump right on into it again.]

Keep tabs on you and me, keep an eye open. If it turns out we gotta lay low, then we'll figure something out. The guy can't be everywheres.

Yeah.

[Freddy nods again, agreeing. Sorry, Dimmy, he's just not good with his words right now but he knows what needs to be done and damn he will get this shit done to protect what they've got. To protect his own hide too.]

I'll kill him again if I gotta.

[The kicker is, Freddy Newendyke doesn't give a damn how many times he has to do it.]

If there's two sons of bitches that deserve to be dead its Hitler and Blonde.

[One more long inhale then he crushes out his Chesterfield in the ashtray.]

Don't go hogging all the fun. I'd love to take a crack at him.

[That says more about Freddy as a person and Freddy as a cop.]

[Sometimes he thinks Larry says shit like that only because he had to leave Freddy alone with the guy and look how that turned out, but he doesn't say this aloud. The old man can feel however he wants to feel.]

It's not fun.

[The kid clarifies however he won't dwell on the difference either. Freddy leans in to press his forehead against Larry's.]

It's okay. [They're gonna be okay...right?]

[Larry didn't want a witness and he truly didn't care about one more dead cop but the minute Blonde would have sauntered on to touch the kid, shit would have been ugly. Real ugly.]

Kidding. [Head to head now he rolls brown eyes upward to look at this man.]

I know. We're gonna be fine. I hate dealing with bullshit.

[If Blonde tries anything at all, Mr. White is going to make him sorry in every which way.]

[Suited, tied, buttoned and waiting. The last song to play was "As Time Goes By" and there were plenty of couples on the dance floor. A sip of wine and he elbows his date.]

We should get the next one.

[There's a wink. Larry's half kidding. Dancing is one thing, dancing in public is another. Besides looks like they're not quite playing their songs. This seaside grotto joint throws a nice party. Sinatra starts up and is drowned out by an announcement. The big count down has arrived.]

Fuck, can you believe it?

[Nine. Eight. Seven...]

Are you serious?

[About getting the next one. Freddy asks, not offended or anything, but maybe...maybe a little shy. It's not because he's nervous of being seen being that intimate with Larry in public, no...it's because the kid doesn't think he's that great of a dancer. Especially the kind of dancing suited up men and party dressed women do.]

Yeah, I believe it.

[Freddy adds, hearing the countdown. It's almost a bit shmaltzy in his opinion which he would never say aloud, he knows Larry enjoys this kind of thing and to be honest Freddy does too. If only he could just admit it in spoken words. Until then though the kid's got action on his side. As soon as the numbers roll down to one, he's taking his old man by the face to press their mouths firmly together. Who knows if they'll get to see the next new year together.]

[The only people who really have been paying them the most attention are the waitstaff to give them more drinks or offer more food or now and then ask if everything is satisfactory. Whatever. They're here.

Larry is looking back through the months in his head. They were at Pink's last year. It was nothing close to this. They kept the shit on the down low. Now here they are at a party like this and--

Lips locked. It's a dream, a fucking rosy colored fantasy. He was going to look on over and give the man a kiss, sure but not the same effect. Freddy wanted this. Freddy wants him. He'll be the last man he'll kiss for that year and the first man he'll kiss for the next. It really does something to an old rambling man like Mr. Lawrence Dimick. They shy away from topics that approach commitment playing hide and seek with their insecurities. This here though is something else.

This'll be the first slide of tongue that Freddy'll get. Surely not the last. These two gunning hands want to hand over the world to him.]

[The kid doesn't mind at all that the old man is his last kiss of the year and his first kiss of the next. He was the last man he fucked and the first he'll be fucking too he's pretty sure. Is that too presumptuous of Freddy Newendyke? Too romantic or ideal or shit naive? He can't help it, Larry didn't just take his cherry, he reached in, curled his heavy paw around it, then yanked the thing out before going back for seconds, thirds, fourths. It's been a wild ride and while he can't say he's loved every fucking second of it he can't say he regrets anything either. Whether they want it or not, the taste of Mr. White is a flavor he won't ever fucking forget.]

Mm...

[Make it two tongues pressed against each other and his freckled hands knead over Larry's sides. If they're getting looks he just doesn't care. Let them grow green with envy.]

[Who can see anyone when you're fixated on the face right in front of you. Heavy, cherry yanking paws touch on his face, in his hair and smoothing on down his back. He can't help it if he's going for Freddy's ass. It may as well be his anyway.

Everyone who isn't staring is singing along with the band to Auld Lang Syne. Champagne is a-popping. Larry's deaf because he wants to hear more of those sounds. They could both get gunned down by Blonde and be dead, he could rat em right on out to return the favor. Right now is as high as they can get.

There have been lows for both of them. Drugs, truths, pains and places that they have had to visit together. But they're still standing.]

Wanna get out of here, baby?

[Broad tongue sweeps over Freddy's bottom lip before going on in for more because he cant' help it. Their New Year's kiss that wasn't the year before. It's so good that it could kill somebody.]

[Paws on his ass only make him lean right into that bigger body, groin to groin but who's really going to make a big deal out of it? Who's ready to take on Mr. White and Mr. Orange? That's right, nobody, he didn't think so. Another stroke of that tongue and warm caramel green eyes are looking that slight distance upward at soft brown ones framed by an older man's age.]

Okay.

[Freddy says loud enough to be heard with all the new years commotion and yet it still somehow manages to sound like an intimate whisper.]

[One possessive squeeze and they're off to collect their coats. They've had their money's worth of fun. The band is starting up. No one's gonna know or care because whatever they do is their own damn business. Mr. White is always armed.]

We're not gonna stay at home tonight, you know that right?

[Number handed to the fella working the coat room. They also have their car in valet. Yep. Why not make things even better since they're dealing with enough bullshit. Someone may also be trying to improve on how Christmas went on over. Truly though, being with this man here and not fucking dying is fantastic.]

But I ain't no madman.

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