whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[Paw to peck. His heart is thumping right on under there.]

Already?

[Larry hopes he can actually manage to look surprised because he's not.]

Okay then.

[Like it's some kind of a let down. He puts a paw on over on Freddy himself, right on an ass cheek. It's the kind of behavior that club would frown upon because it is a clear indication that this guy is off limits for a solo act.]

I don't know maybe I could go for one more after warmin' up. [aka. sucking on Lawrence Dimick's dick.] What do you think?

[That paw on his rear is a damn temptation but before anything can get really started in his room the kid here is making off back to go downstairs. Now it's the old man's turn to follow.]

I don't like that word maybe.

[If he's gonna turn around the old man's gonna be burning holes in his back. Sure, he'll follow but the closer they get on down the harder it is for him to keep his hands to himself. Fingers thread on into his hair from behind.]

Not very fair.

[Rough and gentle all at once. Freddy's still the leader.]

[A paw on his head, thick fingers in his hair, both are like an appetizer for a taste of things to come (heh), the taste he wants in his mouth. Freddy resists the urge to turn and look at Larry.]

What're you gonna do about it?

[Play it super cool, Newendyke, don't let'im see you sweat. At least not yet.]

[Not gonna look? There is now an insistant pull. It would smart more if the old man didnt put an arm around his waist.]

I'm gonna shove my dick in you. I may not even wait until we turn the TV on.

[Except now he lets go continuing the game of chicken. Or is it catch.]

[Oh shit. That tug to his hair ought to upset the kid but because it's Lawrence Dimick it only makes him fucking hard for the very thing he's advertising--heeeeey. Upon being released Freddy turns around to stare at Larry. Really? Just like that? He sure is rough on a guy.]

If you don't do exactly what you just said I'm gonna put Batman on.

[The Michael Keaton one, obviously. Does Larry think he has what it takes to compete with him and Jack Nicholson's Joker? Look at these brows furrow, don't make him choose between his old man and the goddamn Dark Knight.]

[That is one solid trump card. Freddy would be transfixed and on a Batman kick that would definitely cloud over any sort of other wants and needs.]

Who's gonna be fucking who?

[Since it's become a more complicated power struggle.]

Huh?

[This friendly battle of wills sure gets to him. Is the kid gonna let those paws reach for him again?]

[Considering he has only one hand...absolutely. Freckled fingers tighten around the old man's wrist if that paw comes reaching. He doesn't pull though, in fact Freddy's fairly confident he doesn't have to. Any pulling and tugging is strictly for the arousing benefit.]

I'm gonna put on Temple of Doom and then you're gonna sit on me.

[Orange declares. White's more than welcome to fight him for it but part of the kid thinks the sound of it is even harder to resist than Larry's straight and to the point intensely erecting 'I'm gonna shove my dick in you.' because now Dr. Jones is involved. And it's the one with parts they can guiltlessly ignore without insulting the archaeologist.]

That gonna happen before [thicker fingers try to wriggle on out of Freddy's grasp] or after you suck on me?

[That's not a no. Or a yes. Fuck now he is getting that sort of ache. Lawrence Dimick sure loves to be the one to bed the other man in half but he also loves what it's like to ride to get speared. Maybe that nose can sniff it out.]

[If there's one thing Freddy is irregardless of his busted wing it's wily and foxy. Those fingers maneuver around to the point of almost tangling up with Larry's.]

After, so you better last.

[Not a knock on the old man's inability to come twice or anything, honest. Tangled fingers are being led this-a-way now. Foxes are good at rooting out hidden treasures too.]

[Lumbering right behind like the big ol bear he is. Since he has two paws and they have not yet reached their destination he opts to come on real close.]

At least tell me about where you found your dirty picture.

[And maybe how he got when he got to see it hanging on their linen closet. The other gals on the wall might be jealous.]

I told you, a leather shop. My leather shop.

[He says it like he goes there often, heh heh heh. Sit down, Dimick. This one arm pulls and manipulates like he might be ready to snap cuffs onto his thick wrist. But no, Freddy's just looking to get Larry's big old bear butt down on the couch. There's a lot he can do with one free hand and that includes getting the movie started.]

I had to bring'em home and show how much they're welcome. I don't know if your girls are cool with my guys.

[Orange talks like they're divided children, farthest from the truth.]

[That he did hear. And not too long ago. Huff. All the times that Freddy wants to diverge into a story it's not the time the old man wants about every detail. That they got hanging up there is a precious find in his book.]

How much fine art they got there?

[Maybe not enough to catch a caramel apple green eye. Once planted he doesn't do much but adjust. Riled in his briefs he'll have to sit tight.]

My girls got us. They gotta be cool.

[Brown eyes are following wherever he goes to set up the movie.]

You welcomed em with a movie and your hand.

A couple here and there. A couple solos too. Lots of holes.

[Freddy shrugs like he didn't really get that good of a look to begin with which is actually sort of the truth. It's the cowboy get up and the look of the pair that truly caught his attention. Hah of course the old man would vouch for the ladies. Freddy don't mind.]

I sure did. I had Rough On The Ranch playin' while I...

[He licks his fingers as if he's about to demonstrate what one does before tickling the neck of a giraffe, but instead the kid's just putting the DVD case with all those oiled naked ranch hands on it aside. Here we go, The Temple of Doom. By the way are you getting a good look at this rear while he's bent over doing stuff to the TV, Dimmy?]

We should go next time. Y'don't need to keep it a secret.

[Unless it's become like cheers. He does have plenty of those movies.]

Rough On The Ranch. [Funny title that sounds more than appropriate. The DVD case and that rear sure don't cut him a break. Since his back is turned Dimmy might be more handsy in his adjust. This might be moderately visible from the reflecting television screen.]

Did you work your arm any?

[Wow. Something that doesn't involve the gutter grade subject matter. Dimick has his priorities straight.]

I don't keep it a secret, I'm totally open for a date if you're gonna ask me out.

[Freddy says with his best impression of a teenager. Oh he can tell too and it ain't stoppin' him, in fact it just makes the kid keep on truckin'. Here we go; press play. Now he's joining Larry at the couch again, just standing in front though, looking down at the guy (because it's the only way he can).]

Which one.

[You get lots of points for trying, Mr. White, but it's semi-pointless because Orange he's already taken a dive. Fingers reach on down to do the rest of the adjustment for him, by which Freddy really means to take Larry out of his pants.]

[A date. ...They have gone on a few of those haven't they. Except to say boyfriend isn't accurate. They're not boys. It's flimsy, endearing and oh so true. What else can be said? White grins like a school boy as he answers.]

Sure I am asking. Would you go and wear my pin too?

[Pins are different than rings. Less marriage oriented and more going steady. Nothing fucking new.]

The bad one.

[He tenses with the help but then ends up spreading his knees.]

Why you got one for me?

[It's not a trick question, honest, because if Larry really does have a pin Freddy here would really consider wearing it on him somehow. The inside pocket's not a cop out right? He's known guys on the job who hid their rings and special photos because the less scumbags on the street know about you the better. Funny how it worked out the other way for his cover. Oof. Here we go, out of the sling. The kid sets it aside before kneeling between Larry's thighs.]

A little, you do it a lot better.

[Freddy admits as he presses his cheek to the inside of the old man's leg. For a moment he looks sweet and affectionate, a doting young guy, like that thick cut cock isn't waiting for him just inches away.]

[Is that a yes? Really?]

Not yet.

[Now he'll want to find the perfect pin. Something that really says that he cares and that the kid would be proud to wear. Huff.]

Better?

[He's not talking on arms anymore. Blame that mouth and the contrast between his shaven cheek to bristled thighs.]

I'll take care of it.

[That arm. Yeeeep.]

[Well it's not a game of chicken...is it? The kid would feel like a fool if the old man was just trying to test his loyalty. A real honest to goodness pin is not outside the realm of possibility, Freddy wants Larry to understand that.]

Way better. It's kinda weird working on yourself with just one hand when you're used to two now, you know?

[Well, Lawrence Dimick, do you? Freddy purses his mouth to brush his lips along the underside of Larry's very much cut yet very much savory head.]

[If the old bear had it his way it would be something bigger, something that really made a statement that would let everybody know. That is not ideal for their lifestyle when they don't want people to know their real names, the differences between them. It's best left to a small token. Saying anything of the sort was a slip. This subject should be revisited later.

It'll have to be one fucking great pin.]

Y'could have waited up. I got two hands.

[One of them is in Freddy's hair again. His legs splay at the knees even more, the rest of his legs hook around the freckled kneeling man. He's trying not to let out a shuttering sigh. Fat chance.]

Suck it.

I waited after. Here you are.

[Freddy explains like it was magic and lots of praying that brought Larry back home today. Maybe that's exactly what it was one time before. Oof, hugged by these thick legs, there's really nothing else he can do but suck, right?]

Okay.

[The kid's mouth hoods over him, wet and warm, pursed tight.]

You know I can't keep away.

[Oh there's magic alright, the kind that people work for.]

Damn, Freddy.

[The film is rolling and they're not paying attention. Who needs to.]

Wanna--wanna know something? I promise I'm not bullshitting.

[Huff. Combing on through his hair, encouraging him to take it all in.]

[But Short Round demands attention!! Not that Freddy here plans to give him any. He's too busy pushing and pulling his mouth over Larry's cock, slow and even-paced. Steady. Until the old man asks a question so his lips drag back up to suck on the head momentarily before his mouth is off.]

What's that?

[Another kiss to his cockhead. Green eyes are peering up. Bullshitting about what? And no it's not an innocent act.]

You're so much better than that guy at the club.

["Docktah Jones!" Short Round is gonna keep on shouting for it. Larry grins like a school boy.]

More of a natural.

[Less sloppy. That must be what some shits enjoy. The old man is so hardwired to Freddy that it could be another reason for that.]

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