whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[Whoops. Should he have left a note for the old man? Because Freddy does show up, just a little bit later than planned. Not so late that it's bedtime but surely late enough for dinner plans to go awry. The bear might not be able to tell he's concerned at all though judging by how the kid just waltzes on it.]

Hey, when did you get back?

[Asking ever so casually right as he's coming through the door. There's a bounce to Freddy's step that could be from being back in his own skin.]

[One hour. Then two. Man oh man. He turns on the TV after awhile and then also takes off his shoes. Then jacket. When Freddy finally comes on in, he's on the couch with a bowl of popcorn.]

Hey.

[He sits up and looks around. Another glance at the time.]

You know. Typical time. How was your day?

[Fun? Fully enthralling?]

What's typical time for you?

[Freddy's got to ask because he's already sensing just a tiny bit of resentment from the old man. Here he is, leaning over the back of the couch to look at Larry.]

It was okay. I worked.

Five. Five thirty.

[Brown eyes are watching.]

Yeah? I didn't know.

[Or else he wouldn't feel so...unfairly expectant.]

Hungry?

[Here, he'll offer up his bowl.]

[Just look at the way Freddy keeps his hands in the pockets of his nice thick cozy zipped up jacket. The better to lean down and open is mouth for Larry to put the popcorn in it.]

[Is he for real? Here, kid. One piece. He'll slip it between his teeth.]

This is all I've had.

[Figuring that if the kid really did eat, he'd order something. Without meaning to, he's fixed on that mouth. Lips parted and the gleam of saliva.]

There's more where that came from.

[He will not be hand feeding him like that.]

[Tongue curls and rolls--almost dangerously slow--to pop the rest of that popcorn in his mouth. Chomp chomp. Swallow. Freddy smiles.]

Thanks.

[Then he's off to bounce his way upstairs. Presumably to change.]

[Thanks? That's it? What. Really?]

Hey. Is your phone working right?

[Because there may have been a few attempts trying for a conversation there, kid. Conversing with a guy who's heading up stairs though. Larry looks long and hard after.

Huff. Bowl is back in his lap. Even though he glances back at Miami Vice he's not intent on it. Fuck it. He puts it down and stands.]

Yeah, it's working fine.

[He calls back down to the old man. Hey now he got those texts and he did write back. It's just hard to keep up a conversation when you're working under Tony Stark's hood. The hood of one of his vehicles that is. Nothing doing.]

You wanna put on a movie or something?

[Calling down some more from his room. He's planning on heading back down to join you, Lawrence Dimick. Gosh.]

[On his feet, yeah. Hesitating closer to the stairs. Get a grip man. He makes a detour to the fridge to grab a beer.]

Okay.

[There weren't THAT many texts but he sure was trying to bait the kid. Asking if he felt sore. Asking if he had any plans.]

Thirsty?

[Two beers.]

[Thump thump thump. Here comes Freddy Newendyke now.]

A little.

[The kid reaches out to take those beers away from the old man. Set'em aside on the counter. Surprise. Freddy's naked. Naked and carrying some leather strap deals draped around his neck.]

Take your clothes off. You gotta try on what I got you.

[It only makes sense, Larry bought him a new set of stuff just to last the weekend. Freddy bought him a new set of stuff guaranteed to last longer.]

[Double take to make sure he saw right.]

Here?

[Not that it matters anywhere. Freddy Newendyke's well-trained bear begins to disrobe, eyeing the leather and eyeing the original tried and true Mr. Orange.]

Stop by someplace?

[He might be a little slow, just because.]

Here. [Arms crossed. Ever so casual is Freddy Newendyke.] Sure did. Surprised?

[Okay you're too slow, Mr. White. Freddy starts pulling and tugging at his clothes to get it all off as soon as possible.]

Kind of.

[Why bother hiding a smirk. It's half way to what he wanted. Slipping out of everything, letting it fall wherever it's going to.]

Now what? ...since you got it all planned out.

[Larry up nods to those straps. He takes his time with his eyes. The correct height that the kid should be. All of those freckles.]

Just leave it to me.

[Now it's Freddy's turn to smirk. He puts a grip on that thick arm then forces Larry around to pull the harness over him. Sure it takes some cooperation from the old man's part but if he wants what's coming to him he'll comply. On top of that, Freddy's using his officer of the law grip. He knows Larry can take it like a champ.]

It's a harness, nothin' special. You wear it, it don't do anything to you.

[Not yet. When it's buckled into place Lawrence Dimick looks like he belongs in a dirty leather magazine.]

[Those damn hands. Oh fuck. He cooperates. Gulp.]

Am I the only one with a get up?

[Looking over his shoulder as a perp would.]

Be sure you got it fitting right.

[A harness like he's a horse? Hips tilt back as this happens.]

Yep. [He answers like it's no thing because it is no thing. Only Lawrence Dimick is going to get fitted like some kind of ritzy main course, and by ritzy Freddy really means fucking trashy. Hey now is he mouthing off already? Tighter pull, tighter than it needs to be.] I know what I'm doin', jackass.

[Loosening it up (just a little), there we go. Now it's perfectly formed to the old man's broad torso. The kid reaches around to pinch his nipples firmly because obviously that's what White wants when he's tilting his hips back like that, right? Right. Then freckled hands are roaming farther down because hah there's another strap here, one that attaches to a ring, a ring that's about to slip over Larry's cock and balls.]

Think of it as a leather jockstrap. [And yes, it wasn't cheap, Dimmy.]

You always do, toughguy.

[Tighter? He can handle it. In fact feeling the straps press into his skin feels so much better than he thought it would. It's a different sensation than a too tight belt. Even when it comes on loose he feels his skin tighten.

How can he not get hard under this treatment. Ritzy or trash, as long as the kid keeps on doing what he's gonna do.]

Don't hold back any.

[Hissing for the pinch and leaning for more. Woah. It's over too soon. Now he watches as the kid works to fit the ring over him.]

Nicest one I ever had.

[The way it flexes and feels, it was not cheap at all.]

How'd you know it'd fit?

[How'd he know it'd fit...this freckled hand smacks one side of his ass so hard it might leave a print. It will now since he's also curling his fingers to turn that smack into a clutch.]

I took notes.

[Who knows the old man's body better than the kid? Actually don't answer that, he doesn't need to hear about anyone who came before Larry who has just as intricate knowledge. His other hand creeps over to stroke Larry, get him filling the ring space up to test its proper width.]

Feelin' good?

Shit. [Smarts in the best sort of way. The old man reaches back to grip on the kid any way he can, hip or wiry arm.]

Shoulda known.

[Cops take notes, pay attention to details. He clutches back just as hard when Freddy get's stroking.]

Uhuh. [That's one word.]

Guess the movie's out.

[Who needs a fucking movie. Freddy knows his body so well. How to grip his dick and how to pump it.]

[The old man really doesn't need to know to preserve the magnitude of his ego, but the sizing on that cockring is LARGE. As if Larry wasn't already aware of his blessing in that department. Ahem. Larry's paw gripping in return really evokes a groan out of Freddy.]

What would you put on, huh? What would you watch while I'm squeezing my dick in you?

[Now he's hands off his dick just to turn the other man around to face him again. God does he looks fucking good.]

I dunno. I don't care. Wouldn't really be watching.

[Shoulders are about heaving with the way he's breathing heavy so fast. Now he's swelled up to the right size to fill up that cockring. Brave kid going out and picking up a get up like this. He's flattered enough as it is that this was hand picked by Freddy.]

How about we skip to the next part.

[He wants it. Bad.]

[Look at this old man, so fucking willing, waiting, and ready. To think, just days ago Freddy was sitting on his dick, riding it fucking mad and coming all over Larry's stomach. That's the way people see it (those who know or suspect) he bets, that the smaller Mr. Orange is Mr. White's favorite cum dump. If they only knew the truth. Heh.]

The next part is you get on your knees and suck me off. Get it ready.

[He pulls on Larry via the harness towards the living room. Flop. He sits in the special chair, the reclining one, knees parted.] Do it.

[What's to come is worth the wait. Worth waiting more than a few days and worth not even rubbing one out in the meantime. It's a fucking privileged to be Freddy's cum dump.]

Y'got it.

[Harnessed and hauled. Getting on his knees the minute after that freckled ass is pressed into the cushions.]

I was thinking about this all weekend.

[Hands behind him and now he's got to pretty much bury his face and head in Freddy's thighs. His mouth is gaping like a fish taking it all in. At least Freddy's got the TV going.]

Oh yeah? Why?

[Freddy asks before threading his fingers into Larry's hair. He gives his head a slow deliberate push while tilting his own hips up. Sort of a counterproductive gesture, this. Ah well, he doesn't really achingly have to hear an answer from him so soon. Those paws are free to roam as they will but the kid's not exactly making use of them. It's as if right now Freddy thinks all Larry is good for is the pie hole in his face. At the moment, that's very true.]

But I ain't no madman.

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