whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[It's when he puts his mouth to a spot behind his ear that Freddy leans back, shoulder once easily dislocated and arm easily broken if Larry ever wanted to do it. He could do it right now. Freddy's still leaning right here.]

I've seen a lot of fuckin' good too.

[Of Lawrence Dimick, of people in general. Maybe not three times or even twice that of the bad, but if it weren't for some amount of good in people Freddy Newendyke would not still be a cop. Hell he even wanted them to do right by Long Beach Mike.]

[Body to body, fuck is it ever perfect. All this time they spend together, sometimes the old man fears that he'll not only go to pot without this man near he'll be one hardened motherfucker.

Quit it. Why worry about that right now?]

Do you think sometimes that you've seen the bottom of the barrel?

[He carefully now alternates to the other arm. May as well keep on at it. It needs just as much care as the arm out of commission since it is picking up all the slack.]

Nope. I'm not gonna set myself up for disappointment. I've only seen everything when it's pretty fuckin' crazy.

[Because there's crazy good and there's crazy bad. Some cops have to scrape the bottom of the barrel, best not to hate what you do. The kid rolls his other shoulder now, some sort of reflexive gesture as those paws work him.]

What about you?

Sometimes I think I've seen about the most disgusting and dirty bullshit.

[Shoulders and neck now, one obviously has less pressure than the other.]

...then you shower.

[Heh. He had to get that one out. Larry chuckles then clears his throat.]

I thought about Blonde with other things today. Another ball game as far as he goes.

[And so far not a peep on out of him. Is it luck? Is it chance? Already not much of a prayer-filled man of God, he won't say blessing even though that sure is whatever keeps him on the level away from them.]

Hah hah hah.

[Have an elbow to those ribs, Mr. White, and there's less of a spare tire to soften the blow. Hah. Okay he doesn't jab Larry that hard but it's still prominent enough to make a point.]

Is that the bottom of the barrel for you?

[Mr. Blonde, he means. Freddy doesn't have the intention of probing the old man for his past experiences, the good, the bad, and the ugly, it just sort of comes out that way. Orange likes learning more about White and his life, the twenty some odd years he lived before Freddy was even born.]

[Ouch. That does hurt more than he thought it would. Unless Freddy has developed razor elbows in the past few seconds. He has checked before.]

Part of the collection, yeah.

[Not a fuck who goes and shoots his friends. Larry swallows. All things considered, he knows Joe has done worse things pushing the drugs he does, working with the people he does who aren't all Dimicks.]

I could have just killed him when he was on a rampage. I thought about it.

So did I.

[Freddy admits, leaning right back into Larry, fitting against him just perfectly. His admission puts him in the same league as Mr. White but for different reasons. Well, maybe not so different. How old was that black girl? He would have killed Blonde for being too dangerous to keep living with civilized people. Freddy would be no better for it, instead he stuck with his own mission. Larry knows how that turned out.]

I would have let you, covered for you.

[There's no telling how the rest of the crew would have carried on after. They all seemed just as surprised. Paws are no longer rubbing on him, just wrapped around to keep the fit so firm and perfect.

Fat lot of good talking about events that have passed and are only memories. Remembering is what keeps them alive. Pink isn't talking about them. And neither is Blonde, for him it hasn't even happened yet.]

We were meant to be in the same place, thinking on the same level.

[Did Larry really just...? Did he... Seriously...?

Freddy can't help but kind of smile at the whole fucking concept of a guy like Larry Dimick talking about fate.]

I guess so. Too bad I didn't bet money on it. [He reaches back to pat pat the old man on the thigh.]

[Fate. Destiny. Those aren't words he'd use heavily. There is no way of explaining how they fell together like they did. It wasn't easy, wasn't even that quick either. Sort of a matter of time and circumstance. He knew he liked this guy at the bar, how much and for how long there was no way to tell it'd be this much.

Elbows and pats, he's earned em all.]

You gotta deal with what you got right now, man.

[No extra dough besides whatever is remaining on Dimick.]

The job can support your arcade visits.

I don't drop that much at the arcades. Less than what you drop on pretty dancers.

[You think he doesn't notice the kinds of bills you slip them, Lawrence Dimick? fff.]

Do the machines gotta eat?

[Paws are on either thigh. Yeah. The kid sure would notice things like that. He isn't taken in by curves and tits, not like Mr. White. There are no curves under his hands as they move lazy like.]

Guys who run the place gotta eat.

[Come on now, just because a machine isn't a busty dancing wonder doesn't mean someone's not trying to pay the rent with it. In a world without any need for badges Freddy'd probably be that guy, running his own arcade...his own comic book store...his own collectibles gallery. In a perfect world where he'd meet up with his man after closing for the night every time.]

And if a machine doesn't get enough quarters they toss it out like it's junk and that's sad.

[Like machines are people too. Yep. He can feel those paws roaming but Freddy here has a point to make before reciprocating the attention.]

Sounds like you should spare some more on your machines. Ladies don't need it all.

[He noticed after all.]

Must be harder to make a dollar with all of those quarters.

[Freddy and his quickly made points. Coming home is the best option after all.]

Is it a new one or one you just found?

[Not too handsy so the kid can answer him.]

Heavy too, all that metal. Not every guy can handle it.

[Heavy metal, he means, and guys who happen to like heavy metal too as Larry might know first hand. Seeing as how they're sitting just so, Freddy shimmies and shifts to get even more comfortable against the bear of a man.]

One I just found, kinda small, real cozy. Not many kids either.

[Woah now. Getting close can give a guy a stiffy.]

Do they have any skeeball? Maybe air hockey?

[Games that the old man would like or know by name outside of Pacman. Paws massage the outside of Freddy's thighs.

Captain Planet is rearing his green mullet head nearby.]

Yeah they got classics.

[Hehehe. Classics, the kid calls them, just like this pawing old man right here. The way Larry's doing it Freddy can't help but spread those thighs.]

What's air hockey to a guy like you though?

Classics. Shit.

[Oh he caught that one. Thanks, Newendyke. Seamlessly paws are going to the inside of his thighs since they're spreading.]

I like air hockey. When it's not winter it's the closest thing.

[...for a non-roller blade guy.]

Why does that place keep the kids away? Is there are bar in there or something?

[Heh heh heh. There's more leaning followed by spreading and sprawling back.]

I couldn't tell you why, maybe it's got a special machine in it. [Like Flynn's.]

Sounds like you dunno.

[Damn. They're gonna start rubbing up on one another like fucking dogs at this rate.]

Or you don't want to tell me.

[Pushing right back up against him. Agitation from everyone, including himself has fallen to the wayside. Yet another perk of living together with no one else, there isn't any interruptions or one more chance for bullshit from the outside to get in.]

Maybe I'm too scary for kids.

[Freddy suggests as he turns around within those bear paws. Well, rolls around is more like it so he can sprawl on Larry from the front. He steals himself a kiss.]

Rated R type shit.

Higher than that. But I'd say R at a glance.

[That's more like it. Front to front. This next kiss isn't a brief greeting. Have something longer and stronger, kid.]

I don't think you're the stuff of nightmares only because kids don't know better. You keep me up at night.

[A long deep kiss really hits the spot. Seems like Lawrence Dimick isn't so glum now after all. When he finally has a chance to breathe Freddy leans back just enough to speak.]

And I'm not even trying.

[He quips with a one-shoulder shrug before pressing his mouth to Larry's again, tongue snaking through. It's no kiddy shit up in this apartment.]

Go ahead and try. I might like it.

[Meanwhile he'll get on into his pants. Being glum is hard when you got a bright orange ray of sunshine or something like it. They still gotta be mindful of that shoulder while fucking around.]

[Oof. There's not a lot of space in those pants with paws in them not to mention the swelling those paws induce. Now Freddy has to squirm a little, comfort taken away because goddamn how does a guy stay lazy when another guy's rubbing him up and down like that.]

Are you sure? Sometimes even I don't know what I'm capable of.

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