whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

I got no argument against those recommendations.

[Freddy insists, oblivious to the gears turning in the old man's head with regards to his nude form being worked over by a set of paws that ain't his. Hey didn't they have a conversation about this already? Or is it the sheer fact that this is not a sordid situation that makes Larry want to dirty it up? Hmmmmm.]

You know we got us a shower at home.

[And absolute free reign of what they can do in that space. Surely that's a notion that the kid can pick up on. The old man wants to see those paws work freckled skin to make him make those noises. Unbelievable that he's not getting fucked.

That's gotta be remedied.]

[Too bad it can't be remedied here, Lawrence Dimick, it's a classy establishment. What he's got in mind has no place in this place, that's why they have to go to some other place. Like that place. That place with a wider spread of various pools and foliage for cover. That place that happens to have one particular acquaintance soaking it up all by himself in a corner where it's unlikely he'd get bothered. That's exactly why the kid chooses the area to pull the old man with him into the water's edge.]

C'mere.

[Freddy grabs Larry by the face and pulls him into a kiss. From his lack of a towel either Orange has no idea they're not alone or Orange has no shame.]

[Well.

Elijah starts to move as soon as he senses the others approaching, all to keep his back turned away from them as much as possible, but seeing just what they're getting into brings him to a full stop. He recognizes Orange easily enough, more of the young man than he's ever seen, but he isn't quite sure whether that makes it more or less shocking.

He isn't quite sure whether or not he should say anything, either, or if he should make a move to leave. He just watches them for a moment, honestly surprised into silence.]

[The old man figures that there's enough pool to go around. If someone don't like it that much then they can find another place to slink of into. Heh. That's even before he really sees the other man. Paying attention to surroundings while Mr. Orange is in the buff wanting to suck face is hard, okay?]

I know what you want.

[His voice is low but audible. These words are for Freddy. His hands pull on his bare ass to pull him on closer.]

Wha' do ah wan'?

[Spoken around his mouth and such while his hands rub up and down Larry's broad sides. All this pawing means they certainly have no plans to stay still or even in one place. That's how he finally notices the silhouette of a man just over yonder. Not only does Freddy notice it, he recognizes it. The heat of the moment (actually that could be the water too) makes it hard for him to want to pause in the middle of it all. But for a second though, maybe there's direct eye contact with Elijah.]

[Oh, shit.

He didn't miss that eye contact for a second, and now he knows he has to do something. Something minor, at least, no matter how much the sight is causing certain parts of him to stir.]

Uh... Ahem. [Hopefully that will get their attention.]

Fuck.

[That's his answer and a correct response for the contact of their bodies. He's a little wrapped up to see direct eye contact but he does get a feel for distraction. Another voice in the vicinity confirms it.

Whoops. Larry doesn't disengage. He's too fucking comfortable to pull away completely, besides he had to keep his hands off the whole damn time at the other joint. A half a turn and he's looking Elijah in the face.]

Hey, pal. How's it goin'?

[The kind of man that Lawrence Dimick is, he's ready for confrontation.]

Hi.

[That's what he says to Elijah because the guy is still there and hasn't moved himself and if he hasn't moved himself by now and isn't gagging well. Clearly they've got something in common. Of course only a couple years ago in Elijah's place Freddy would have scrammed...to beat off sad and alone.]

Sorry uh...

[It seems like the most polite thing to say without specifying what anyone ought to be sorry about. Likewise his body is still tangled up with White's and because of it Orange can't help grinding against him. It's not enough to harsh his erection.]

Hey. [He nods to them, even though his brow is still raised. It's only polite, after all.] Goin' just fine.

[He swallows after that, shifting a bit, having forgotten about keeping the black marks on his back out of sight for the moment.]

And so are you, by the look of things.

Fine's a start.

[Fucking great would be his choice of words. This sort of a scenario lacking hash accusations from the get go has him grinning from ear to ear. It has a lot to do with grinding down south.]

You know how it is.

[His mouth dips to Freddy's shoulder to press his lips then take a nip. Brown eyes are on Elijah with as much caution as curiosity. Is he a fella that likes a show?]

Yeah...

[It's probably some kind of massive weird tribal back piece tattoo, not that Orange is really paying attention. He's got his own scars, a bullet mark to the stomach and another to his shoulder, though if he knew what really covered Elijah's back his own wounds would pale by comparison. Mr. White's got his own markings too, marks Freddy paws over with the ease of a man who's mapped out his body.]

You like to watch?

[He asks, no judgment here, just curious because they're all still in the water, no distance gained, no proximity achieved. Yet. He found Elijah Morgan attractive from the get go but his tastes didn't occur to Freddy until now. In any case he runs his fingertips through Larry's hair, encouraging the guy to mouth him.]

[Elijah only swallows again, feeling another stir. If he hadn't already been so settled in then he might have been well inclined to leave by now, but as things are...]

I don't mind it.

[Ballsy Freddy Newendyke. Questions like that poised to a man looking the way Elijah does makes him hard now. Not a bad sight to see on their end either with his meat and potatoes frame marked up with what he assumes to be a tattoo. Mr. White has his fair share of scars and ink. They're so much a part of him he doesn't think to judge strongly on those of others...merely taste. Tribal is not for him.]

If you change your mind... you gotta wrap up.

[And he's not talking about leaving. Larry grinds on back with Freddy. He's biting on him again.]

[Well that settles that. The grinding evokes a low groan from the kid. Wait wait. At least one of them knows Elijah's far removed from their time, though maybe Freddy ought to brush up on his own history with regards to prophylactics.]

He means a condom.

[Freddy clarifies for Elijah. Look don't blame him for thinking condoms were invented during World War II. It's still an open invitation however which way he cuts it.]

I know what he means, son.

[The son is automatic, no matter how much his languid tone might suggest otherwise, but it doesn't come without a slight groan at his own, not at the thought of just what he might be getting into. One of his hands slips below the water; the other two can take the gesture any way they want.]

Don't suppose either of you got one handy?

[There's a quiet understanding between the man and Mr. Orange. White takes it to mean they must have at least spoken before. Maybe they bumped into each other in the locker room or on the network. Interesting. The way he's got the freckled man wrapped around him he is sure that it is nothing to worry over.]

Heh. I might have somethin'.

[Because he knew that one way or the other they were gonna get action in a place like this.]

C'mon over.

[Closer to the both of em. The old man is sure that there's something going on in the hot water.]

[Oh excuse him, gosh. There's a shameless truly harmless roll of his eyes that actually means to cover up some of the arousal he gets from being called 'son'. Though kid will always have a particularly special place with Freddy, so it's a convenience that Elijah's got his own separate term of...whatever it is.]

You planned this.

[He accuses the old man--oldest of the men--with amusement. Did he pack lube too? Damn. As for already knowing Elijah, well, the way Freddy's holding onto Larry and talking to him should be an indication of where they stand. Just based on instinct, Freddy doesn't think Elijah Morgan is going to get attached.]

What do you like. [He asks the other man now, noting the disappearance under the water.]

Depends on what I'm bein' offered.

[He makes his way over as he says it — not too quickly, but he sure isn't wasting his time either. Seeing the two of them up close like this is only making his arousal kick in even faster, which they ought to be able to see for themselves by now.]

Guilty as charged, tough guy.

[To Orange. Elijah gets a healthy look over as he turns away. Their things are outside the pool. Unlike the fancier establishment, he is pretty sure this place is as prone to thieves as the Underground. Mr. White gets thieves.]

How's about you keep our friend entertained, Orange.

[That's not a suggestion. It isn't gonna take the old man long finding a condom in his own pockets. He will get his own sort of show.]

We'll take care of you, man. Wrap up, enjoy the ride.

[Larry pats Freddy's ass for good measure.]

[It's like speaking a second language with Lawrence Dimick. He doesn't have to ask for any kind of explanation or detail to know what the guy's getting at. Freddy'll gladly put on a show for the guy. And he has to admit, there's something exciting about the opportunity colliding with them over setting up the entire encounter, not that he regrets anyone's paid time. They've gotten their money's worth.]

Sure.

[The pat to his rear acts like a green light. Now he's turning to Elijah and reaching out to circle his fingers around the guy's cock.] There's only one condom, you either want to fuck or get fucked. Unless that's not your thing, we all got mouths and hands.

[He'll stroke Elijah now, slowly and deliberately, as if that alone is going to milk out an answer.]

[He wasn't expecting to have his cock handled so soon, and the touch brings forth a slow gasp and forward push of his hips. He glances over to the other man, apparently even older than himself, but not for too long before he returns his focus to the younger one in front of him; he has to lick his lips and swallow again before he can respond.]

Don't think I'd mind, ah... receivin'. [Even in a situation like this, with another man's hand already on his dick, he can't help but keep his language from being anything but delicate. For now, at least.]

[Condom retrieved. He almost drops it hearing what he's hearing. A grown man, virile looking and wanting to get fucked except it's the choice of words. With the wrapper held between his fingers he keeps a paw on Freddy's shoulder as he leans on in to catch Elijah by the mouth.

Oops. Did they have a rule about kissing? It's the endearment of having a body willing for what they got, knowing there's a slew of personal frets and conceptions that are hiding in the wings...sorta brings it all around to be a healthy experience for everybody. Stubble itches above his lip and the corner of his mouth. When he pulls on back he gives the man's broad shoulder a pat.]

We'll take care of you, buddy boy.

That's one way to put it.

[Freddy tightens his hold to rub around the rim of his cockhead. He doesn't have to see it to know how Larry must be feeling, hearing those words from a man who looks like this. Maybe it's an old guy thing. Orange isn't going to question it or make any other sort of judgment, which is not the same as saying he's not taking notes on Elijah's character. He's watching the man unabashed, eager to see how he reacts to Mr. White's mouth, his heavy hands. He's watching Larry's reaction too.]

He's good at it.

[Freddy insists, already making the call just because he can and because he really doubts Elijah is going to speak up otherwise. Who wouldn't want to get fucked by Mr. White? Maybe Orange is biased. He has to let go of the middle man now to position himself seated on the edge of the pool. These wiry arms are working to have Elijah's face situated right at his lap.]

[At any other time, he might have something to say about being called buddy boy. Between the kiss and the hands on him and the rubbing on his cock and everything else, though, he doesn't really have much of anything to say at all.]

Christ...

[That's all he manages past another groan. This isn't his first time having an (at least mostly) anonymous encounter in a bathhouse, but it's not exactly an experience he'd ever actually expected to repeat.

He moves as Orange directs him, his own arms reaching past him to brace himself against the pool's edge, but doesn't take any further action than looking up at him, almost expectantly. He's not an idiot; he can sense nothing but a total lack of magic capability from these two, knows logically he has no reason to fear plunder from either of them. But that does little to ease the anxiety he feels at having his grimoire so blatantly exposed, power already and instinctively tingling throughout its inner hexagonal phalanxes and wild outer curves, or the tension that plainly shows in the muscles of his back and arms.]

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