whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

He put the knife away to use his hands? Musta been personal.

[You know what they say, guns are for business, knives and everything else is personal. Munch munch munch, no further comment on the foreigner. He could've been an alien too although in that case one wonders why he didn't pull out a laser or shoot a proboscis from his mouth.]

More power to em. All I know is that I had to get 'em apart. I told him to take his own damn money to the booth and that was that. So maybe the guy gave him a dirty look or didn't like his face. Who knows. Besides that, he seemed like a okay but confused guy.

[Chew, chew, chewing.]

Really sorta packed a punch. Nothing too bad though.

[He's sitting right across the table after all. As much as it prides him to tell Freddy about a successful work day, he's not bragging.]

[That remark gets him leaning over the table a little more to scrutinize Larry's face for any small cuts and bruises. He didn't see any when he came in but can't be too sure.]

Are you sure he didn't take a little off the top? [You know, that hair Larry seems to be caring for.]

[His face is okay. There might be a bruise under that alligator though. He did knock his head against a support pillar but plaster can come out of hair pretty quick.]

Nah. I got a trim a few days ago.

[Licking barbecue sauce off of his fingers now.]

[Stop watching stop watching stop watching. Ugh.]

I gotta do that some day. It's all over the place.

[Freddy puffs and blows some floppy hair out of his freckled face.]

In your own time. Y'got plenty to take care of.

[Larry up nods looking his blonde and brown sort of flop. Nothing wrong there, just the usual. Their exchange is all familiar territory.

Bury that relief in food, old man.]

Plenty of time or plenty of things I gotta take care of.

[The kid asks, just teasing though. Teasing in a way only someone really close to Lawrence Dimick could tease him. Close like in bed, which they are not at the moment. Stop it Newendyke.]

I meant hair. But you make a good case for it to mean more.

[Woah. Woah now. Stop grinning like a fool. Larry briefs the combination of KB toys. Brown eyes lower some again trying to pull it on back to whatevers on the plate. Still pretty full.

He would love to joke like they're close in bed.]

Hah hah very funny.

[He flicks one of his cleaner peas at the old man. His shirt's green anyway so it shouldn't matter right? It's not like it's going to splatter on him anyway. And besides...it feels so good to shoot the shit like nothing's changed. It's just a break, anyway, just a break...]

Hey. Hey.

[The pea bullet bounces off and rolls toward the salt and pepper shakers. Even though there's nothing there, he still dabs it with a napkin.]

What've you been up to at work? No knives?

Naw, just experiments.

[A more hushed tone as if it weren't already public information.] Stark wants to start a weapons division. I'm thinking of transferring to that department.

[He leans on closer. Such an attentive audience of one. For a moment he is filled up with worry. Weapons? Why? The questioning stops. Freddy keeps powerful company with super heroes. They protect people. He leans back.]

I know plenty of people don't like greens. You got it made with pea shooters.

Derringers are for small time cowboys.

[No offense to anyone who carries one. He's just shooting the shit with an old man he loves.]

None of the cowboys I know settle for those these days.

[No Name is in his own category. They keep on digging on in. There are still issues hanging around. What can be said about them though?]

Will you get a raise for the department move?

[Freckled hands go up like a 'sorry scuze me didn't mean to offend none' gesture for the misinformation on cowboys.]

I don't know, the raise ain't too important to me. I just wanna do something. [Something meaningful, something to protect and serve.]

You're always doing something.

[Going for a fork now so he can nosh on some pasta salad.]

I hope that it works out. Will you let me know?

[There must be more. They haven't seen one another in days. And it's been a little more than a week since they've slept under the same roof. Larry doesn't allow himself to think about them fucking right now.

...He does that alone.]

Anythin' elsh?

[Around his food.]

[Well that makes two of them in the thinking about fucking only when you're fucking alone department. Freddy munches on macaroni.]

Thanks. Sure I'll keep you updated. [Nom nom nom.] Naw. What else with you? What's goin' on?

[There's been more fist fucking than actually. Well. The prostitute that night after the strip club and a handy in an alley but...]

On? Uh. Not too much. Trying to sort out what I kind of moved out. It's a nice opportunity to clean.

[Edging in on the conversation. He almost hates to do that. They're getting along so well! Fuck. He's moving onto the potato salad. It needs salt.]

Oh?

[Suddenly the kid's not so enthusiastic about the conversation anymore. He has no right to ask the old man what he's tossing out. That would be a dumb question, dumb beyond belief. So he shoves another spoonful of cheesy macaroni into his mouth.]

Gonna move anything in?

No. Just going through my own stuff. Nothing's really going. I got some better suits, some that need to go to the tailor.

[As expected it's like a season change. Lucky for him when he drops his eyes he's got the plate.]

I'm uh [He rubs the side of his nose thoughtfully] not really moving out I decided.

[Not yet anyway.]

[DON'T WAG DON'T WAG DON'T WAG.]

That's cool...I can help clean up.

[Because parts of that place do belong to both of them. Hell all of it does really.]

[Cool he says. Is it though?]

Sure. Let me know what you want to get rid of. I'll haul it since I'm using the car.

[Which is theirs as well. So many damn memories in that car and apartment. How can he even stand it? Even right now, Larry's not too sure.]

Anything else new with you?

[Any new developments he should know about? This isn't a request to kiss and tell. ...If Freddy wanted to though he is in a stable mood over all.]

Sure, I'll let you know. [Eventually. Like when he feels like moving more of his stuff out which might be never.] Naw...

[Oh wait.]

I think I might be like the gay godfather or something. [How's that for a more upbeat swing in conversation?]

[Of course. On his own time. This is what would be considered breathing space. The old man is feeling pretty proud of himself. No venturing, no grabbing or trying to haul him on back to the apartment like they're cave people. The desire still hangs in the air. He can't help it. Huff.]

You're--?

[Cough. Cough. Better wash it down with the remainder of his coke. He'll need more. With his windpipe free he can laugh.]

Gay godfather?

Uh huh. [Nod nod nod. There that's better, clear the air with some Orange brand humor.] You heard me.

[He's eating off a skewer or meats now.]

A guy I know's been needing help in talking to another guy. [He is leaving the part where he's already fucked said first guy out.]

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