whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[Lists and calenders make him feel like he knows what's going on even though he doesn't. It's a sort of compulsion to keep track of things, jot down notes. He's got a little black book when network devices keep track of names and numbers for people. The old man nods and listens.]

That ain't bad, man. Figuring out who you are and what you want shouldn't ever be about what's wrong or what's right when you're trying to see the difference.

[Mighty fine words there, old man. He wets his lips.]

I love the man I know and I trust him.

[And Dimick hasn't been a sharing, open relationship sorta man in a coon's age. Can he? Stupid question. He wants to keep Freddy. And truly, would it be bad to venture on out for a catch of the day? That could mean tits.]

Have you been thinkin' about this for awhile?

It sounds real bad in a hideously stupid sounding kind of way when I say it. But thanks.

[There's just no finesse or slick fast talking facts checked spin to it unlike the way Freddy can talk about the Fantastic Four or Speed Racer. He wishes he could talk about this with that much authority on the subject. Regardless of all that, Larry's remark brings a grateful smile to Freddy's face.]

I care about you a lot too. [Now it's Freddy's turn to pat pat Larry's paw.] Not a while and not often. Here and there, a lot today.

[Steve Rogers might not know jack shit about how to do the deed but he sure as hell knows a lot about conviction, focus, and dedication.]

[Care. Okay. He can do with care. C'mon Dimick. Cut the guy a break. Shit. It's not the end of the world for Christ's sake. When Freddy smiles it's just another sign that this is another route, not the end of the road.]

It's okay to go talking about it with me. If we're weird, then at least we're weird in twos so it's not like it's some solitary happening.

[So that they can be working on out whatever's gonna be together. There are plenty of tacos. The coke may not last two long.]

I've had two dicks in me more often with you than with anybody.

[When he says it like that Freddy just wants to grin and drool. That's exactly what he means by being considered weird. Shouldn't he be raging fucking jealous? Shouldn't he be eyeballing the old man if he were to say half the shit that comes out of the kid's mouth.]

And I'm fuckin' happy I can talk to you about seriously ridiculous shit.

[Except it's not ridiculous, he means what he says even though it comes out garbled. Freddy craves that firm grasp, the one he believes Larry has, Steve has, Eames has, Stephen too. He won't get it without flexing his fingers first. He knows he doesn't want to fit in a box but he can't describe his own silhouette. That's something he wants to be able to do, for Larry and for himself. This isn't what they mean when they say you know you're a cop when you don't know how not to be one but somehow the shoe fits.]

Nobody's ever given me the kind of confidence you do. [That's not quite true, a sense of standing for right and wrong is innate in Freddy Newendyke, it just always seems to come out the most with regards, however direct or indirect, to Lawrence Dimick.]

[Maybe it would be different if Larry suggested it. Thinking on it right now, after the club jaunt it's not such a big step. Just...one in a direction the old man hasn't had his eyes open to. He's had time to fuck around. It has been enjoyable.]

I wouldn't have it any other way. How else are we supposed to live together and feel things out?

[Now, this is how he's approaching the issue bright and fresh. So. Heaven help the old bear to keep sight of what's important and not get swayed by his own jealousy. It's a matter of trust.]

Sounds like other people are full of bullshit.

[Pat, patting of paws.]

If we're gonna do this [we, Freddy, we] we should lay down a few guidelines.

[Being able to do this together, that's the most important part. And Freddy knows it means Larry gets to fuck around too, all the tits and bright eyed boy types he wants. Can you handle it, Newendyke?]

No dating.

[There we go. Come right on out and say it.] Having a drink before you reel it in is fine. No numbers. No kisses on the mouth. Always come home.

[He may have thought about it a little more thoroughly although Freddy can't help but wonder it being only months from the big 5-0, does Larry think he might be too old to be dealing with this shit?]

Condoms used for everyone else. No over nights. [Which may mean the same thing as always come home.] No gifts.

[Those are easy things to bring out off of the top of his head. He is all too aware of his own age. Agreeing to this is in defiance of that. It's only a number. He's not old. Not really. There's so much more living in his big body, really.

There is one of those questions hanging in the air that he must ask.]

...did you want to fuck any of your friends?

No gifts. [As if Freddy Newendyke hands out presents so easily.] No.

[He's going to be adamant and clear about that for reasons they both know; White and Orange have a fairly large pool of very good looking acquaintances. But that's not what this is.]

I didn't talk about this just to get out of feeling guilty cause I wanna fuck a buddy.

[Dammnit Freddy it's the receiving too, accepting mementos from other people, remembering them and becoming endeared to them. Larry doesn't want there to be any evidence of anyone but them in their house.]

It was just a question.

[Because there still are quite a few. Larry takes a sip of his coke.]

I can't think of much else right now.

[On the spot.]

[Yeah Freddy you need to think this through a little more except it's not aloud so the kid isn't thinking about anyone else wanting to give him anything either. Except for Lawrence Dimick.]

...You don't have to put up with this if you don't like it.

[That's unavoidable because he can hear it in Larry's voice and detect it in his pattern of questions. The unspoken implication being you don't have to put up with me if you don't like me right now.]

[How do you head out from here and keep things at an even keel? The old man has no idea. All he wanted to know is about the strange talk with Captain America and feast on tacos until he pops.]

How are we supposed to sort this shit out if I can't ask questions.

[Because he wants answers. What desire is lacking for the kid? Is he gonna end up meeting another exception to the rules? Larry pulls back to stand, his cigs are on the coffee table.]

I didn't say you can't ask questions. I don't want you to have to put up with it.

[Oh fuck what misstep did the kid take now?]

[Rustling at the coffee table a little bit. The old man finds his Chesterfields. The box only has about three more. It won't last him the night.]

What do you want me to do?

[How did Freddy think that it would be? It's not a threat or even a spiteful outburst. Another question. He lights his cigarette and looks out to the City lights outside their sliding glass door. Not long before he turns.

Who is doing what wrong? The old man's fumbling for better words.]

I want you to do what you wanna do, man. If you don't like somethin' tell me.

[It doesn't even occur to Freddy that maybe what Larry wants to do is to keep him however way he must, even if it includes tolerating something like this.]

Shit I'm sorry I brought it up. [On his feet too now but not going to join the old man's side.]

Will you just fucking stop for just a minute?

[Words first before he physically makes his way on back. Paws have the impulse to grab him and grab him hard for fear that he will slip away now. Remembering he's got a wound and the history of this sort of thing makes him stop short.]

I didn't say no. I'm not saying no. Can you cut me a goddamn break to process this? You're ahead of me thinking this over.

Okay okay. I'm sorry.

[Ugh stop apologizing, Newendyke, it's just going to make things worse. Without even thinking the kid bites into a taco, like that's going to somehow stop the crap spilling from his mouth.]

I'm gonna run out of cigarettes.

[As though they're carrying on like usual. Larry licks his lips and takes along drag. Now that he has his moment.]

You have any extra?

[Back to the counter even though Freddy may not be there any more.]

[He's still there, with a taco, which he holds by his teeth while getting his cigarettes out. Look he puts a first issue Captain America on the counter too, no doubt getting a greasy finger print on it in the process but Freddy could care less. In just a moment he produces the one Chesterfield in his pack of Marlboros. He holds it up to Larry, like a peace offering.]

Thanks.

[He'll put it with the last few in the box.]

I'll step out in a bit to get more. Did you need anything?

[Words. Where are they? He should be asserting that everything's fine. He should be working his way to kissing and making up. Another puff of his Chesterfield.

Brown eyes are on the comic book. Then right on up to Mr. Orange's face.

The lights from the bar when they first met obscured the freckles on his skin. Music made it hard to hear him at first and coming on closer he got to see a pretty vibrant, cool motherfucker. It'll be great to work with him, he thought. All those rushing longings that are spent out in motels and alleyways came onto him like an ambush. At the time he wished for a few more moments with Mr. Orange.

How many more moments are left? A long moment's passed in silence, there's no music on or the TV. He didn't think to when he first came in. Boy can silence be deafening.]

I'm in it for you man and nobody else.

Naw...

[Freddy shakes his head, acting anything but the vibrant cool motherfucker. Right now he feels more like the stupid kid who asks for everything and gives nothing to warrant having someone like Lawrence Dimick at his side. Even when he says something like that Freddy just doesn't understand why. It's so painfully obvious to him everything he's said tonight has only hurt Larry with his honesty, his stupidity.]

Thanks.

[What else can Freddy say that isn't going to make things worse beyond recanting everything that came out of his mouth when he walked through that door?]

[The old man nods. He's making a list in his head. Cigarettes, hair dye, shaving cream, more Jack Daniels...condoms. Take it, Dimick. You pulled the trigger. You chose this man. And goddamn this isn't worth it to ruin everything you've got.

Like a tough guy he's trying to hide his own wounds, knowing that emoting has already threatened their open honesty.]

You're welcome.

[It feels funny to say.]

I'll head out. Fill up the car and get a few things. If you think of anything we need, lemme know. I'll get it.

[Because going out is something he needs.]

Sure. Yeah I'll let you know.

[Taco out of his mouth, obviously. Listen to this part though, Lawrence Dimick.] I'll be here.

I'll be back.

[And not roam the streets or bury his sorrow in any place or person that'll hold it. He's a liar, a criminal and a killer but he's not that kind of a person. Not right now at least. Larry gets his jacket and makes for the door.]

Coke right?

[Freddy nods, putting on a little smile.]

Uh huh. Coke.

Okay.

[Out the door now, into the night again. Keep on moving, Lawrence Dimick. If there are answers they'll come on to you. Until then, he repeats what he needs to himself. There's something solid and certain in that. Certainty isn't going to be stocked on a shelf for a bargain though.]

But I ain't no madman.

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