whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

Then you gotta get a new toy or some shit.

[Restless is a good word for it. He has a feeling he knows what's up.]

You wanna talk to me more about that hour business. I think that's what's on your mind about now.

[The thrill of the chase, the capture and turn over. Kinda like how they pulled that book keeper job way back when. Except tonight was more legal.]

Whatdyou mean?

[Asks the kid, clueless because of all that energy firing back and forth. And maybe because he's not sure Larry wants to hear about how he pulled a successful foot pursuit single-handedly. He's a cop after all.]

Spill it. You're bursting at the seams. I wanted to give you a call but didn't think that would help much. What the fuck happened after y'took off?

[Because he knows the ending. It's a happy one. The in between is Freddy's story to share. Far be it from the old man to deny him. He remembers why they had their talk Sunday. Maybe that would relieve a sliver of the pressure of keeping his badge under wraps.

The old man nudges physically too.]

[Oh. That. Freddy looks left then right like he's making sure the coast is clear. He feels the nudging too, knows what it means, knows what Larry's encouraging and goddamn does it make him feel good and proud.]

He took off through a [Locations and locations. Stuff in the way. Climbing and jumping was involved.] I kept up the pace until he ran right into a fuckin' fence he couldn't fuckin' climb. That's when he turned around and cut me. But I took him out.

[The kid has to leave the old man's wing to pantomime how he took the guy down. One hook, another hook, the same way an officer would move if he had his nightstick on him.] Bam, down on the fuckin' ground, asshole. I frisked him. He had an expired condom.

[As it should, kid. As it should.]

What kinda knife was that? [How did he go at it? the old man sticks Freddy in the ribs with a finger.]

He dunno what kind of a punch a guy like you packs.

[Expired condom? What a joker. Larry shakes his head.]

So he was lousy through and through.

[Like the bad guys in the movies.]

A little thing. This big, right up his sleeve.

[Freddy gestures the size of his thumb but they both ought to know something that small can be lethal in the right direction.]

Uh huh. Real lousy. Good runner though, I thought I was gonna cough up a lung.

Even coughing up a lung though he was no match for you.

[Lap it up, Freddy. Larry luffs his hair.]

So does the hero want a drink or anything? Least he can do for his services.

[Never mind that it wasn't the purse that the woman dropped. That was found later missing her network device and money. The purse itself was scuffed but salvageable.]

Now you're just pouring it on real thick.

[He returns the nudging to the old man's side under fluffed up hair. The kid may not have gotten a reward from her or any other commendation but he's dedicated his adult life so far to doing a thankless job. It just comes with the territory. Not that Freddy's one to brag about his own humility either.]

Sure. I'm not gonna say no to a drink.

[Then closer to the old man. Much closer.] After we fuck.

It's only what's deserved, pal.

[Close up now. And he's starting to see the line of thought. Dirty toy story, touching and all the adrenaline.]

I got a few bucks. You want a hotel?

[Answered just as close. He lets a paw start to creep on into the back of his jeans, fingertips at first.]

Are you gonna rough me up like your perp?

[Freddy is the only cop he doesn't mind being manhandled by. So far he hasn't seen any big titted Pam Grier types in blue. So far.]

[That creeping paw only makes him arch his back a little more, giving Mr. White some room as if Freddy can somehow lure in the rest of him.]

Set up a room.

[An interrogation room, or in other words, yes the kid wants a hotel and yes he'd like to rough up his old man.]

You gonna catch me?

[Hand moves away and he takes a step back. Don't worry, he's not gonna go on running. Larry shoves his hands in his pockets. Freddy is just going to have to follow.

They're getting a room alright. And the old man is gonna get some. Boy is he.]

You're damn right I am.

[Don't run, Lawrence Dimick, Freddy here will just overtake you then take you down. Well okay bringing a bear down might be a lot harder than racing one but come on, is Larry gonna deny him this? Don't think so. He'll follow at an easy pace though, eager to jump Mr. White the next second he can.]

[Just because he's not running doesn't mean it'll be slow. Swift pace and they are heading right to that questionable neighborhood. THey take cash. They don't ask for names. Larry heads to the first door. The man at the desk is old and whiskery. He's safe behind metal grating. Yep. This is their place. The old man takes a look over his shoulder to see if the kid is following.

Of course he is. Part of the game.

Cash down through the slot. Maybe too much, but whatever.]

The number of the room is on the key. Upstairs.

[One look and one touch (discretely) to the old man's rear and Freddy's heading on up to the room. When they're at the door that touch gets bolder because they're alone in the hallway. So bold his touching has gone from the back to the front, eager to make Larry hard.]

You're takin' your sweet time.

[The kid comes on strong. It's that authoritative quality he needs working the streets. Larry is the beat now. He almost drops the keys.]

Look man, whatever you want. I don't want any trouble.

[Click. The door is unlocked and he shuffles on in, not far or fast enough to get away from Freddy. He loops is arm back to grip on him in return.]

Should we even bother with the lights?

Just comply.

[He insists, pushing into the hotel room now and nudging the door shut behind them. Watch out for those bandaged up stitches, Mr. White, because Mr. Orange is barely giving them a thought. Fetch rolls onto a desk, discarded now though at least not on the floor.]

I want them on.

[The lights he means. Freckled fingers work to remove the other man's clothes.]

[He'll be gentle. This is his hero after all.]

Yessir. Listen. I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you want.

[Lights are on. Standard sort of a room. It smells clean.]

It's not what it seemed I thought you were a friend or else I wouldn't have offered to suck your cock.

[Oh Dimmy. Dimmy Dimmy Dimmy Dimmy.] Cut that shit. I don't want to fuck a stranger. I want to fuck you.

[This isn't a dirty little scenario anymore, this is the real deal. This is an undercover cop who just took out the trash and now he wants to fuck around with his old man. Push. Right onto the bed. Somehow Freddy here is already without his jacket and shirt.]

You know I'm only givin' you shit because you have been known to like it.

[Out of character, out of step and out of his clothes. The old man allows himself to fall on back to the bed.]

So fuck me. I know you know how. How many times you gotta say it before you do?

[Pawing at the door and all the cut the crap dismissal of previous tactics have the old man hard.]

[He does like it when Larry gives him shit. How does a guy argue the truth? Easy, he doesn't.]

You know I give as good as I take.

[Straddling Lawrence Dimick now to pull whatever layers are left apart and off. He doesn't pop a button or seam or anything though.] Too bad I'm out of zipties.

[Like the old man cares if any clothes are a casualty. He was concerned in the beginning yet only a little. Now he's beyond it. They have ways to clean or mend. Moments like this are irreplaceable.]

Good. Hit me with your best shot.

[Both paws are at his ass, squeezing and rubbing.]

If I got my hands fixed I won't be able to touch you back, cowboy. God only knows how much I enjoy that.

[Insistent hands now press on him rub cock to cock if that's even possible.]

You got a point there.

[He concedes before curling over to take hold of Larry's face and kiss him. It's a deep wet open mouthed kiss. Note Freddy's still in his briefs, dark green ones with a white waistband but no lantern symbol in sight. They're cock to cock and getting worked up, like every push of those paws is making him thicker.]

I ain't done a thing like that in a while. [He knows what the kid's talking about, he has to.] You know they got a sayin' for it?

[Freddy leans back enough to look Larry in the eye. He's grinding with him still, so fucking hard now.]

[The pushing and rubbing don't stop. Larry can almost feel Freddy getting worked up in his briefs. Chances are Freddy can feel the same too. Kissing like this lets them not commit to one mouth or the other.]

No time like the present.

[Huff. Eye to eye and not breaking away even though the impulse to roll them right on back into his head is pulling hard.]

What do they say?

[Fuck is this all they'll be doing? It's great but now that Freddy mentioned it...the old man is aching to be filled on up.]

[Bright warm caramel green eyes to those older deeper brown ones framed by the creases that show Larry's age. Floppy dirty blonde hair's fallen forward, close enough to brush against Larry's face.]

You're a cop cause you don't know how not to be one. If you feel that way, you're a cop. If you don't, you're not.

[That's no outright declaration of which one he is or where he is on the spectrum at this point in his life, but it's something Freddy Newendyke's never forgotten. It's something he'll probably take to the grave.]

Turn over. [There's your cue, Lawrence Dimick, and despite his solid tone, the way Freddy's touching him suggests of course he would like to have the man's full cooperation.]

[Hair smells like sweat, cigarettes and faintly of smoke. There was a fire around after all. The words are stark, almost cold. Freddy will always be a cop. That's something that can't be changed. A cop did what he did the day of the heist. It was fucked before it started.]

When you're talking like that it's hard not to try and call you sir.

[As he turns on over to hand over himself to the kid. Full cooperation, otherwise it's a crime.]

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