whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

Naw cause after the column you gotta write a book and after the book you gotta do interviews. I don't do public speaking real well.

[What a laugh and a half coming from Freddy Newendyke. As for where that person was for him, well. Eames has been a lot of help, no denying that, the guy's one of his closer friends in this crazy world.]

Yeah, whatever I can.

I don't remember if Ann Landers wrote a book.

[Not being the reader type he wouldn't know from experience anyway. Heh. He did now and then catch a column. Larry butters a small roll.

Eames was a trouble maker for a while. So was That Fuck that luckily doesn't pop on up in conversations anymore. He can stand Eames so much more.]

What's his problem?

You read that stuff?

[Teehee that would be a sight, old man Lawrence Dimick reading the papers for one Ms. Ann Landers.]

He don't know how to tell a guy he likes him.

[Oh shit wait does that come too close to home? Suddenly Freddy regrets bringing it up at all.]

When I got time to read the paper cover to cover, I read those kinds of things too. Sometimes it's funny to see what gets people riled, not being invited to parties or shit like that. I think it's pretty funny.

[Munch, munch on his dinner roll.]

Whatja tell 'im?

[Because he honestly wants to know. From a guy who is articulate most times, it would be interesting to hear about. They are about smack dab in the middle of a problem between the two of them. Lawrence Dimick isn't blind. He's not sure how they'll get on out. It takes two.

What sort of relationship advice comes on out of Freddy? Would it be an aspect of his own wants and wishes?]

Well... [Craft your words carefully, Newendyke.] I told him he's gotta know the guy a little first. A guy who doesn't care if he gets a number or not is a guy who's got nothing to lose. If you care about keeping this man around you gotta know what he's like. You gotta get an idea if being friends, acquaintances, whatever, is still an option.

[Sluuuurp his soda.]

I told him a lot of stuff goes into a decision like that, especially for a guy who likes another guy who might not like other guys. You don't wanna hurt anybody and you don't wanna get hurt either. Nobody's life should have to take a hit just cause some boy's got a crush.

[Freddy's cheeks grow hot with some mild embarrassment.]

It helps to have someone tell it like it is.

[Like how it should be. People should get to know one another thoroughly before jumping on in.]

Hope he really kept his ears open.

[A guy who likes another guy who might not like other guys. That one rings loud and clear to him. Don't go there. He takes a look at his soda pop.]

Give me a second. I need to refill. ...did you want any more?

[Of Freddy's own coke he means. Already he's reaching to refill whether or not its empty.]

I guess...

[You blew it Newendyke, you really blew it. Good luck trying to fix this one. Green eyes keep a lowered gaze before he nods.]

Yeah, that'd be cool. Thanks.

It'll be just a second.

[Elbow taps on Freddy since both hands are full. Are you a man or a child, Dimick? None of this should be a surprise. These are things that the kid is learning, things most people know. Not a personal jab. They're talking and sharing a meal. That last time they shared a kiss. (But that was days ago.)

He has to mentally shake himself as he watches the dark and bubbly carbonated drink fill the glass. One and then the other. Inhale and exhale then he's back at the table.]

Thanks.

[He repeats when Larry returns. Shit that's too many 'thank yous' between them already when even before they were fucking the 'thank yous' were a given. No one had to say anything, there was an unspoken understanding between them. Fuck what happened?]

Did your friend say it helped any?

[As he settles on back into the seat and into the conversation. He takes a drink of the coke to cut any trace of bitterness that might try to be up in his mouth.]

That's what's important.

Naw, too early to tell you know?

[Freddy shakes his head. His plate of food is getting emptier and emptier and his ability to have a conversation that doesn't somehow lead back to them is getting less and less.]

I see.

[Larry's own plate is pretty picked over. He focuses on his drink. There is still room in his stomach for dessert, he's not sure if it would be right to stick around for it. Their time together, while enjoyable, is starting to show wear and tear. It's meant to be light and short.]

Well. You've given him a good idea. I think that's something you can be proud of.

[Sip. Fuck it. He'll smoke in here too.]

Let's see how it all turns out first.

[Freddy can't help but smile a little here because it is kind of funny. It's sour faced Raymond Leon and fucking Leonard McCoy. It doesn't get crazier than that in this world, well maybe except for Captain America and Bucky. Who's Tony Stark bedding these days?]

I want you to do stuff too.... [The kid's trying to approach a different angle of conversation now.]

Do stuff? Like what?

[Stuff is a concealing word. Larry turns his head and exhales that Chesterfield smoke out of anybody else's way in the booth.]

I don't know anybody who's gonna have me as their mentor these days.

[Following him around or having the old man follow him around.]

Lots of stuff.

[Go and see people, except Freddy doesn't have the balls to tell him that, to doubt the old man's certainty in loving a stupid kid like him. Freddy shakes his head.]

I don't believe that at all. You're smart, patient, you got a way of talking... [Stop before you gush, Newendyke. Now it's his turn to take out a smoke.]

I am.

[Sort of. He's trying to not be in a rut. The other day he went shooting with Eames. That was an on the fly sort of outing. He should do more. It's so hard to meet people when you're older. People call you grandpa. Larry keeps buttoned up. That's all cop out bullshit. As many brushes with death as he's had he's not gonna waste living holed up in the motel room even though that might help him feel better now and then for a few moments.]

Guys like you are gonna put me out of commission.

[It's said with a short laugh because it is a joke. Really though, what else could the kid mean? This is the sort of dance they've been going on at. This was the talk that they tried to have before everything went to pieces.]

What's that supposed to mean?

[Sorry the kid can't help but ask regardless that he can tell it's meant to be a joke. It's a way of carrying on the conversation, a way of turning the tables on each other because it's okay to do. Hell sometimes it's fun. When did it stop being fun? Ah, right, when Freddy realized how serious it had become and suddenly being fun turned into being scared.]

You being easy, approachable. You're the godfather here.

[Shrug. And ain't that the truth though? For a moment he thinks that Freddy's playing dumb but he knows. He has to. Putting this conversation to bed, what more will they have?

Will they start arguing gain?]

Are you gonna ask for favors in return? Get some sort of a payment out? I mean, why not.

No.

[Close to home, ain't it? He already got a favor out of Raymond so to speak, even before helping the guy out with a more genuine object of his affection.]

I'm not that kind of godfather...

[Yep. Feels like the end of the line. Why can't they talk? Why can't they be friends despite everything else? Maybe it's unfair of Freddy to enforce that desire on Lawrence Dimick.]

[That is a nerve. Cigarette out of his mouth he licks his lips.]

Hey. I didn't mean anything by it.

[His voice drops to a softer tone, no sign of making fun here.]

Just talking.

[Like they used to. Man oh man. Larry takes another puff before he says something like I miss you.]

[Huff. Puff.] ...I know. I'm sorry.

[Freddy nods, insisting upon sincerity because he does feel bad for becoming defensive. He feels bad he can't do what he sought out to do, to be separated yet still friends, still acquainted. Maybe it's true what they say, amicable break ups are the exception to the rule. Are they broken up? For real? Or just being stupid and denying everything?]

Don't be, man. I too it wrong, anyways. I don't know why you're sayin' you're sorry.

[Hearing him say something that at all helps patch up a leaky space in his heart somewhere. That's not what he meant, Dimick. And that's not what he's gonna mean. They haven't gone much further than that talk in the square. In fact, Freddy still stood his ground. It's what he wants. Bristling in return for him being himself, talking like he should is proof the old man needs to spend more time cooling out and thinking.]

Say, how's the shoulder?

Better. I still wake up a little sore but I have a lot of movement in it now.

[He rotates his arm to show the old man. This is way easier to talk about than taking things the wrong way and telling him he's sorry anyway and expressing how much he misses Larry even though this is something Freddy insisted they need and god why is it so messed up? With the damage done can Freddy even hope to have things go back to the way they were.]

Yeah? Good. You get it massaged steadily too? That would help.

[Not offering to takes about all the effort he has. Smooth, old man.]

I can't think of any places but uh you should give it a try.

[Going for massages on your own is something, ain't it?]

Naw, not really. I get up, go to work, come back to a hot shower. I rub it myself sometimes but after a while I don't bother anymore.

[Because there's no one else he can fathom doing it except for a pair of large professional paws poised across the table. Oh fuck.] An oriental place?

[It just comes right out without any real rational thought because that's exactly what his mind turns to when Lawrence Dimick talks about massages.]

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