whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[Does it count if he combed his hair with his fingers? Because that's what this kid did. When Larry asks where he's been though, the hand flapping starts.]

At Tony Stark's. He's got me workin' on his cars, his personal cars.

[Cue a long drawn out babble about what kind of cars they are, how they differ from models he knows, how they're the same, how he plans to make them run smoother then better. He is right up in Larry's face too, wherever the old man happens to be in their home.]

It was supercool.

[Freddy, Freddy, Freddy. When will you learn to wear a blazer so that you can put a comb in it?

The old bear listens. He's making the leftovers into a sandwich. Near Dagwood. And he's listening.]

He's gonna pay you right? Y'didn't act like you'd do it for free there...

[Because the sheer bursting enthusiasm would sure make a more frugal person try to pull that one. Larry's stunned that the kid didn't insist on freshening up for his own personal benefit. Fuck it was like a date.]

[Except Freddy's no Blondie unless he is in the eyes of Dagwood Dimick. Also, what mechanic wears a blazer to work? Fff.]

Well yeah I'm gonna get paid...

[Except Freddy didn't have a chance to discuss how much. Oops.]

[Don't mechanics change? Or have those sort of outfits to protect the nicer clothing? Then again a grease monkey like Freddy almost relishes in the grime. And a man like Larry Dimick relishes in the state that the man comes on home in.]

Wait. So. [Pointing with the butter knife.]

Somebody's got a job?

[Nod nod nod.] With fuckin' Iron Man.

[So excite. WAIT.] You know which one's Iron Man, right?

[Fork down. He's gonna pull you in for a victory kiss. If he still smiles like morning breath and not some kind of a casual brandy or--god forbid--a suspicious breath mint. The question stops him but his arm is around his waist. The sandwich sits open faced still.]

The one made out of iron.

[Mmff. That takes the kid completely by surprise but he still conforms to the old man quite naturally. As for his breath, well, cigarettes, coffee, last night's whatever. Yep, it ain't pretty. Freddy'll still gladly hang out in Larry's arm though. What was that?]

Huh.

[Distractions. Oh right, Iron Man.] He's not made out of iron, he's got an armor suit.

[Ain't pretty but it's all Freddy. And that ain't bad just...unpleasant. Not enough to quit it for this Dimick.]

Red and gold suit.

[Like the action figure. He's trying to show off his observational skills.]

[A tap of his finger to Larry's chest. What's the old man wearing anyway, seeing as how he actually took the time to change his clothes unlike this kid.]

Very good.

[Praising Larry like he just got the correct answer to Question #14 on his oral exam.]

[Just a long sleeve henley with the sleeves pushed up so that the wildcat is on the prowl. For his bottom portion just denim. Real casual up in here for Mr. White.]

And so you're gonna be all under the hood.

[One more kiss. The man's got a sandwich here.]

Hoods. Plural. [Freddy grins, freckled fingers running up and down those bare bear arms.] You wanna finish that?

[No he's not asking because he wants a bite. Just asking in case Larry doesn't want to be distracted from his meal.]

[Good. He just got the correct answer to Question # 6. The old man knew he'd pass but...he had to check. If it were one hood that would be suspicious.]

At least half.

[Because it's become a monster. And the plate could always go in the fridge.]

Why?

[Distraction, yes. A bad one? Never.]

[Well it would be one hood if it was an extremely complex vehicle. One can't expect Freddy Newendyke to learn the ins and outs of the Batmobile in a day. Fortunately Tony Stark has no such thing...yet.]

Just askin'.

[Freddy remarks while he reaches out to pick at the sandwich, a little piece for him to nibble one before Larry can smack his hand away.]

[Batmobiles are great. The old man is making a conscious effort not to make this a rehash of Captain America conversations they've had previously. The impulse is there. A man should be happy and excited about something. Especially when it's a paid job.]

Hey.

[He makes like he's gonna make use of that knife again...except it's to cut a slice for him rather than brandish it.]

When do you start?

[Freddy doesn't even say thank you when he takes the slice...because his appreciation is in the way he smiles and stays close to Larry, right?]

Technically I started today but I think I'm gonna get real elbow deep next Monday. [Talking with his mouth half full too.]

[That's okay. First bite of his slice then he's going to the refrigerator for a beer...two beers. He's welcome for that too.]

That's fucking great, baby. And this is gonna be an all the time thing? Not just certain days or some thing?

[Clink of Coronas together. Look at him even open them up.]

Stark's got all kinds of shit goin' on at once. If it ain't every day it's gotta be every other day.

[Flapping his non-sandwich holding hand before he takes the beer for a clink and sip.]

Would you miss me if I went in every day?

[Munch. Munch. And gulp, gulp of the beer.]

What kind of a question is that?

[What a fisherman. Larry grins and leans back on the counter top. Why bother sitting.]

Y'know that I would.

[Chomp chomp. Sip.] I don't have to go in everyday.

[Typical Newendyke. Man gets job, man quits job, man whines about joblessness, man gets job, man tries to get less hours for said job.]

Might change. Would you agree to it if payroll and shit allowed?

[Payroll. Employment. These are things that the old man has become reacquainted with in the last year. A real job. Sure is on the more questionable side of legitimate but a real job. Who would have believed.]

I mean, if the pay is good.

[...how lonely it would be with a hand full of meals a week. Meals like this or fancier.]

I don't know I mean...that's a lot of work.

[His real concern is putting in too much work in the beginning. Eventually all those cars aren't going to need fixing anymore which means no reason to be hanging out at Stark's. He can't go in everyday if it means work coming to a halt in a matter of months. Oh shit Newendyke you're acting like you're gonna be living here forever.]

You ain't sick and tired of me at home? [All the time, in times of joblessness.]

Pace yourself then.

[Friendly elbow. Oops. A dollop of turkey falls to the floor in the process.]

I know it's been a while. [Shit. How long exactly? They haven't dignified the Saya fiasco with a conversation in sometime. After what they went through it was enough.]

Do I act like I'm sick and tired of you at home?

[Because if he does then that's something that needs fixing.]

Edited 2011-11-26 03:05 (UTC)

[Five second rule. Freddy picks that dollop of turkey right back up to put in his mouth. Chew chew. Swallow.]

Naw...you don't.

[The truth is he thinks Larry likes it.]

[Here, he'll step aside a little so he can get it better. It's no thing. Still good. Floor is pretty clean. Gulp of beer.]

Good.

[Another bite. Sandwich is pretty much over with. No regrets.]

Cugchz [oops needs more chewing] one of these times I might be the one.

[Not that he's got a rhyme or a reason. And if he does leave the casino it wouldn't be on amicable terms. Chances are he'd have to get roughed up. It's just the way the system works.

...The truth is Larry loves it. It's some sort of a perversion of typical domesticity. He can provide for his man to live in a beautiful apartment. Larry can also come on by on his own terms since work is pretty chill. There's a shred of disappointment that the kid is going to be gainfully employed again. Only a shred.

What about the kid though? Freddy is a grown man who likes to earn his own way.]

Edited 2011-11-26 03:15 (UTC)

You? Takin' naps on the couch? Doin' what, watchin' I Love Lucy?

[How close to home is that... Freddy's not thinking about it only because Larry's been gainfully employed by that casino for a long time now. He's not naive either though, he knows how that kind of system can work. But Larry, Lawrence Dimick, he's a fucking professional. Sometimes the kid thinks the old man's invincible.]

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