whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[He notes the way Larry's waiting and gets the door himself. Open sesame! What's in there besides a toucan enjoying the coolness by the window? Yeah, somebody left it open. Who's gonna argue with Sam? The way the outer wall is set up it's possible to keep it open without letting rain in anyway. Guess who also kept the room slug free.]

What's that.

[Freddy asks though, focusing on the new addition to their quarters. Duh he knows what it is. It's just a lot bigger than he expected.]

It's a bed. You know. For us to sleep on.

[Among other things. That is far more obvious. Larry steps in and he again feels compelled to remove his shirt. It'll need to air dry. Oh here. The beers are pulled from the sink. Wouldn't you know it that it's only Budweiser? A hot commodity when there's about nothing else around.]

So.

[Beer first. There could be so much more to go with this. He can tell by the phrasing of that question.]

[Awk. Sam swoops over to perch on Freddy's shoulder, saying hello. The kid returns the greeting with a finger rub to the toucan's chest. Dimmy's right though, he's got more questions that go beyond addressing how he got it to fit through the doorway. Beers. Okay. Beers. Freddy accepts one.]

How'd you get it?

I traded a few things.

[Down he goes to sit on his prize. Craaack goes the can. Saliva wells in his mouth anticipating the taste. It has too long they say. Bronw eyes focus on the kid and his bird.]

My things.

[A watch he won't be needing anymore. That kind of shit.]

Stuff you could've kept, Larry.

[They're only talking in the safety of their own room, four walls. If anything's tapped they're fucked. Well, not quite, who the fuck would think knowing Lawrence Dimick's name here would threaten the old man? Sam flap flap flaps away to sit with Larry know. E-ee-e-e-ee-e. He wants to peck at the can.]

Is it your back? Is it bad?

[There's a shrug for that. Sure he could have but then what? Keep sleeping on the cot? No.

He takes a sip.]

The cot did a number on me the first few nights but this'll be much better.

[Sam, too bad you can't help a brother out. Dimick would turn to you to try and change up the nature of the conversation. Looks like he'll have to do that himself. Thick fingers rub the down of his tummy.]

Freddy, we deserve more than a damn cot.

[After all they been through.]

[Oh that feels nice. Toucan purring rumbles from his fluffy throat. Too bad Freddy's become so accustomed to Sam stuff like that does distract him anymore. He hasn't popped his own beer open yet, still on his feet, still clothed.]

You deserved to have the other stuff too.

[It doesn't occur to Orange just yet that maybe Larry also fleeced whoever took his stuff for a whole fucking bed. What if it was the old man who made out with the better end of the deal?]

I got you. C'mon now. What more do I need?

[Guns? Nope. They got those.

Fleeced? That's not the whole story. If someone is willing to give up their bed for chump change, that's their problem.

Larry takes another sip of his beer before setting it down. He toes off his shoes.]

I know if we don't wanna keep it someone will want it.

[He says carefully, hoping that the option will be keep.]

........

[Ugh, Lawrence Dimick, of course you'd roll all over the damn thing. Show Freddy Newendyke how much you like it, how nice it would be to keep it while still presenting the kid with the option of trading it off. Ugh. Sam flaps away to duck over the window sill again. Hop hop and out. The bird's gonna bathe in the rain now that both men are present to guard the nest.]

You didn't have to.

[He repeats, moving to sit with Larry now. Crack. There goes the beer, popped open for a sip.] You think we're gonna be here for that long?

I wanted to.

[And Lawrence Dimick does what he wants. For better or worse. This time for the better, for the both of them. He breaks away his looking for details to watch Sam flutter on before slowly coming back.]

....I really don't know. It all happened so damn quick.

[Business as usual and then right here, right like this. Larry snaps his fingers to demonstrate.]

It's been too long to be a curse, and usually shit changes up after just a few days.

[There we go, kid. Sit down. Enjoy a beer with your old man. That's exactly what this is for.]

[And Mr. White, Lawrence "Two Guns" Dimick, does what he wants. Freddy works his shoes off so he can bring his damp feet up on the dry bed. It really is comfortable. Sure it's nothing like the majesty they'd kept in the apartment but it's better than a cot. Would it have been like this if they'd made a run for the border?]

Yeah, I was thinkin' the same fuckin' thing.

[Is this going to be where they fall asleep together for the next year? Sure they've got immigration going but they come from a world where sometimes immigration talk is just smokescreen and no one gets to leave at all. They come from a world where internment camps were standing when Dimmy here was born. Sip.]

D'you think we got soft?

[This is it's own sort of internment camp. It was nicer before. Now that they've done away with the varnish they are prisoners. He's gotta stop thinking like that or else it won't be such a pleasant rainy day.]

....you and I?

[Soft? Huff. The old man has to think on that one.]

Like not ready for action? Too damn simple like?

[In ways that makes a man yearn stronger for adventure and thrill of being a cop? No lie. It has crossed his mind frequently.]

Like that, yeah, I guess.

[He nods. There's not much conviction behind his own answer because Freddy's not sure himself and part of him worries he's bringing up the wrong subject at the wrong time. He's taken the day off, it's nice and cool from the rain, and this man just brought them a bed. Sip.]

Nothing's wrong with simple but nobody saw this coming.

[In a matter of a year and a half they managed to build completely brand new lives with all the comforts they would've loved in Los Angeles. All his toys and comics and records, gone. But losing that's still more preferable than losing Larry.]

No. I don't think that's going soft. All this time we're making the best of it. We have thought of running and were ready before.

[When they could see Los Angeles beyond them. The time after they didn't even consider it. There could have been zombies, their choice was not unfounded. Another sip of beer.]

I think that if we saw it comin' there wasn't a lot we could do. If we'd have backed out the car with our shit we wouldn't be able to look out for people on the outside so easily

[Is it soft to want to stay so involved with one another? Now and then he believes that is the detail.]

[Freddy's thinking of the same time too, that one incident where they thought they were driving into Los Angeles, but that's different isn't it? They thought they were going home, picking up and leaving this city life for the one they'd left behind. What's happening here...it's different, it's the same place but horribly changed.]

Some people can't look out for themselves.

[The kid says in agreement with all the confidence of a law enforcement officer. It's not patronizing when he says it, it's just the truth. That's why there are cops and firefighters and EMTs. Just another way for Freddy to concede he thrives on maintaining justice even though he can be a damn wild child too. Just another way for Freddy to ignore that detail Larry can already see lurking in the background. Of course the answer is 'no' but at the same time Freddy thinks not being a cop makes him soft, and the detail he plays deaf to is he can't be a cop if he wants to stay so involved with Lawrence Dimick.]

Kind of wished I coulda saved Silver Surfer. [There, a joke. Orange isn't all somber.]

[It wouldn't be absolutely untrue to say that they make one another soft. Their definition is not typical. Freddy brings out all sorts of emotions and motivations in the old man, they're not always introduced in a kind and lawfully acceptable way.

The beers they have are stolen. The cigarettes they're going to have are stolen. He's got his eye on a barbecue that they'll be able to cook on if they want. He's waiting for the right opportunity. That is only for this circumstance.

Larry took a job from some other idiot so that Freddy had some employment. He killed one of Mamba's goods thinking that kid had been harmed. They have always had some sort of blood staining their relationship.]

That all?

[Of all the things in his collection. Dimick gulps down more from his share.]

Naw.

[But does he have to talk about all his great finds? The Fetch Larry won? His bass guitar? His Green Lantern ring he ate a shitload of cereal for? What about Larry's cufflinks or his pin ups? Freddy wonders if it's easier for him because he's used to having to pick up and leave but he won't voice this thought. No need to patronize him too especially if the kid doesn't mean to patronize him, he just doesn't know better. Leaning in now, Freddy gives Larry a little nudge.]

So. How much did it cost?

[The bed, he means. Let's get back to the bed, get back to what they do have, including each other.]

[What about the baseball mitts that they have? Or the ice skates? All that junk. All those memories. The objects aren't meant to last but the meaning behind em, the motivations that shit sticks.]

The Silver Surfer? Not gonna tell.

[He knows it's the bed. And he's thinking of how to come about and say he traded. It's so medieval. Another sip as he pretends to be surprised that there may be a pause or a look.]

Oh. The bed you mean?

[Were he to voice those sentiments aloud the kid would agree. The stuff matters less than what they went through together to get them, to enjoy them, how they decided to put what up and where. But they're like souvenirs too and Freddy likes having souvenirs.]

Smartass.

[He gives Larry a hard push with his free hand.] Yeah I mean the bed, come on.

Not my fault you weren't specific. But the bed only cost a little time.

[His watch. The clever fox will likely be able to sniff it out soon enough. The old man isn't wearing his watch there's a lighter tan beneath, not a full out band of pale as some do. If there was one good thing to say about this change its that a body can tan completely. A full body tan is difficult to keep though with everyone in such close quarters. Usually the old bear lays out someplace in the buff.]

Why? Do you want another one?

Just like that? That's it? Time? You're not gonna tell me what?

[He's looking at Larry like he might be offended and not already piecing the answer together by noting his wrist. He's looking at Larry like he's not really thinking about throwing himself at the old man and pulling his pants down.]

I did tell you.

[Kind of. Why is it so fun to get a rise out of him one way or the other. The old man stretches and sets his beer on the floor. They don't even have a box spring. Just a mattress on the floor. Skeevey in a different context.

Larry pretends that he's lost his train of thought by stretching more and peeling off his wet shirt.]

Is there something else you'd want more then?

[Objects. Not whatever is in his pants.]

[Beer down too like he might be getting ready for a verbal fight. Sorry, Lawrence Dimick, but Freddy Newendyke is already there.]

I want what's in your pants you sneaky son of a bitch.

[Freckled limbs go on stretching out to throw his weight against the old man. The new bed can take it, there ain't no delicate frame to creak under them.]

Shit. Don't waste no time, do you?

[He sucks in a breath. Freckled skin might be rain wet but it sure ain't cold. Freddy has the element of surprise on his side. The old man lets himself fall back on the bed. He knows what's gonna follow. That is what he wants too.]

You want another cock?

[Inviting more protest or an effort to prove a point. Who cares. As long as they got this time, this bed. Say. Pretty comfortable so far.]

[Shirt peeled off, that makes two of them shirtless now. Shirtless and toned up, scarred, inked for one of them. Rain showered. His hands are rubbing down White's chest to his pants, working quickly to open them.]

Uh huh. I love your cock. [Kiss to those lips.] Know what else I like though?

[Pants open, fingers slipping in, searching to stroke said cock already. Freddy mouths at Larry's chin too, chin and jaw, the stubble.]

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