whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

Nah. No face mask. Just a cream of some kind. I dunno. It's been awhile.

[Laughter at his expense or not is laughter. A busboy is coming around to take the unwanted plates. That doesn't disrupt the moment but it sure does bring about that the meal is over.]

These days if I want a massage I keep budget.

[Right now not at all. No flappy hands to rub him down.]

I guess you ain't got a reason to go in again so soon.

[Yes Lawrence Dimick that's a compliment for you. He notices the busboy clearing away the area but Freddy makes little to no reaction to it. They'll leave when they want to leave. Besides, he might partake in some dessert if this conversation stays happily afloat.]

A massage is no sugar scrub. A massage isn't tanning either.

[How's that for a gentle good-hearted metaphorical ribbing? The kind they could do so naturally before Freddy found...drove...imagined a wedge between them.]

[He's got a few reasons. And not all of em are because of the activity in his wallet. It's about feeling up to it. Larry could certainly blow quite a bit of his money trying to rehabilitate his spirits. So far though the most dramatic effects for the positive or negative have come from the man across the table. Should it be like that at all though?

His coke is getting slowly drained.]

Nah. It's all under the whole umbrella of personal care.

[He shrugs. Dessert does sound good about now. They've let their food digest and allowed for pleasant talk. And...not so pleasant in patches.

Hard to say what is exactly between them. Care couldn't properly wrap around it, love burns too much to the touch. Larry would want to curl up and die if the label of friendship alone was put on this. It feels too great in Larry, like all reactions Freddy evokes.]

Well you're the expert.

[Freddy concludes with a mock professional tone that's still all in good fun because Larry kind of is the expert when it comes to that stuff. He taught the kid the classic art of shaving even though Freddy still resorts to a basic razor most of the time. There are a lot of things, whether or not he put them to use, he still retains just from knowing Lawrence Dimick, from learning from him. Fuck.]

...You thinking about dessert?

[Not a trick question at all except there is an underlying motive that wants more time with the old man without having to express he's going to have dessert just to have more time instead of wanting dessert and conveniently receiving more time in return. How cowardly.]

Trial and error.

[Along with so, so much time to see what works and what doesn't. At least for himself. In his lifetime he hasn't been in the practice of using sunblock all that much, he's still smoking and still drinking even with a rather smooth shaven jaw. They have shared quite a bit. Freddy's treated him to so much mind candy movies and interesting culinary trials. No one else here can do that, he's sure of it.

When you've set your teeth to a flavor, nothing else will work. That's been his place for these long days apart.]

Yeah. I think I could go for something. Hopefully no one is putting gold in it.

[Don't fucking wag, Newendyke, don't fucking wag.]

I saw pie and ice cream. You wanna go first?

Nah. You go first. I can wait.

[So he can calm a bit. At first it was uncomfortable now it is feeling too comfortable. Too comfortable doesn't mean they're gonna trip on home together like nothing has happened. Boy, does he wish it would though. Larry sits tight in the booth.

They can't talk about personal hygiene forever.]

Okay.

[Thank christ he doesn't have a tail to betray the calm and casual demeanor Freddy's trying to manage. The away time gives him a moment to collect his own thoughts too, how can they spend this last part without fucking it up? Why the hell did Freddy even suggest they spend time apart again fuck. When he comes back it's with a slice of pie under two scoops of ice cream under a sprinkling of peanuts and cookie crumbs and syrups.]

You better hurry. It's hot stuff.

[No pun or veiled commentary there...not really.]

Mmm.

[Okay. Now he's standing. Larry takes the liberty of swiping his thumb near some of the syrup on his plate.]

You better have saved at least some for me.

[It isn't until he's walking on his way that he puts it on into his mouth. Other times he would have started eating off of Freddy's plate. That's not quite right at this moment. He loads his own plate with a brownie and ice cream. While some are crazy over nuts, he opts for some of the cherry syrup and a little whipped cream. For texture and because it needs something else, he puts walnuts.]

[Oh shit oh shit oh fuck don't watch him, Newendyke, don't do it--oh. Well Larry saves them both the trouble by turning his back. ...Why would he deny Freddy that? Shit you need to stop, man. He starts pecking at pie crumbs and nuts in an attempt to keep busy until Larry returns. When he does Freddy's had a moment and time to retain a cooler demeanor.]

Chocolate, huh? Typical. [It's a joke, honest.]

I like what I like.

[Sweet, chocolaty and warm. Though he does like his caramel. Best keep that buttoned on up.

Was he waiting to dig in until the old man got back? It touches him and also puzzles him. What are they really doing here?

Seated once again he takes a spoon to his dessert.]

All the things you could get and you get pie.

What's wrong with pie? It's a classic, it's comfortable, you can't go wrong with it.

[It doesn't occur to Freddy how that alone can have its own connotations. Fuck.]

That why you like it so much?

[The pie. Ears are open as he chews thoughtfully. He is debating on whether or not this conversation needs breathing room. Coffee would counterbalance the sweet.]

An old standby.

[It's the old standby part that makes Freddy think maybe this wasn't the right direction for the conversation. Shit. He takes another biteful of cinnamon apple.]

It ain't no standby if everyone wants a piece.

[Just a casual remark, no implications here, although it's true he thinks Lawrence Dimick is one hot commodity.]

[Hot tempered, hot blooded. They're talking about what's on a plate. He can reign himself in to that mentality. Right? Dimmy, right? The cream gets a little sloppy and he flicks his tongue out to eat it rather than wear it. Just eating as he would.]

Pie's not always my first pick.

[To emphasize the subject matter for his own good he holds up a piece with his fork.]

Good shit.

I don't have a first pick either. I like what I like. If I didn't have a taste of everything on the table I wouldn't know that.

[Talking about what's on the plate. Just talking about what's on the plate. Oh shit don't look at him doing that thing with his tongue don't fucking look. Freddy points his own fork at the old man.]

Brownies? I love that shit, I wouldn't say no to a piece. [Watch him reach over and knock off a little corner of Larry's for himself.] But I picked the pie cause it's how I felt tonight.

[You are still talking about what's on the plate, right Newendyke??] ...It went really good with the ice cream.

I'm surprised tasting everything don't upset your stomach.

[Talking about food more. Yeah. Man is it hard to shake the notion otherwise. Why is the kid being so damn---shy isn't what you would call a guy that steals from anothrt guys plate. Ballsy. Possibly baiting.

Don't make the first move and fuck it, old bear. It may not even be that way.]

About anything goes good with ice cream.

[Blowjobs do. ...Fuck.]

I got a cast iron one remember?

[Whoops talking like they have a past together, which they do, but is it right to bring it up? Shit. Freddy rubs a hand over his belly anyway, ballsy as he is, it just seemed like a natural thing to do. It's hard trying not to be comfortable in Larry's presence. Sometimes it's just that, a natural unspoken way between them, the kind Freddy absolutely adores. Other times he questions, doubts, second guesses. Striking a balance between the two wasn't on the menu.]

Even bacon.

[Freddy says in agreement without thinking much. He can't help how he feels...about ice cream and bacon.]

Oh I remember. That's not shit a guy forgets. [Chuckle, chuckle. Oh. That's too fond. He clears his throat.] I mean, after watching you shovel away so much canned pasta.

[Ravioli, Spaghetti-Os... That still is bringing on up the history they have. Pretending it never existed is about as hard as retaining this balance of friendliness.]

Not bacon in ice cream. It's just not right. You can't have it all.

Canned pasta's good to eat any way or they wouldn't sell it, man.

[Om nom nom. He shovels more of this pie into his mouth and proceeds talking with his mouth half-full.]

You ever try it? I bet you haven't so you dunno what you're talkin' about.

I think that it tastes best piping hot and heavily salted.

[Shoveling is not what he's going to do with his melting brownie delight. However his spoon fulls have become larger.]

It sounds rotten to me. ...More power to you.

[Trying everything. They're talking about food so it's okay.]

My stomach's pretty sturdy but they don't put nukes in there to die.

[Despite his breath and healthy burps. For a moment he is about to say it's a good thing Freddy knows what real food tastes like. Food like the restaurant by the sea with the menus mostly in French. He keeps on filling his maw with walnut and ice cream covered brownie.]

It ain't containing the blast it's called de-escalating the situation.

[Freddy explains because...because it's just food right? Bacon and ice cream, brownies, pie, food and a time spent not fighting. For all the bumps in tonight's road it hasn't been bad, right?]

[Smooth joyride for today. Except Lawrence Dimick, like a criminal he is keeps on checking his mirrors.

Don't ask nothing. Don't ask!]

De-escalating.

[Another lick of his lips to see if he's got all of the ice cream before his napkin.]

Are we de-escalating a situation right here?

[Between them, from one plate to the other. He's trying not to look so serious, trying to leave it wide open if they're gonna keep on talking about food.]

[Caramel green eyes flick upward to look right at brown ones. Did he really just ask? Yes, yes he did. Freddy quickly shutters his gaze. He focuses on the rest of his pie and ice cream.]

I don't know.

[And that's all he's got to say on the matter. He keeps forking bites into his mouth like it ain't no thing.]

Oh.

[Yield. Detour. Merge traffic.]

Okay.

[He nods even as he says it. Larry takes a grip on his coke, it's hardly enough at the bottom of the ice. By now it is pretty watered down. And to top it off, it's a noisy slurp.]

This was a good place.

[Is their conversation and time all run out? Shit. What a dumb thing to say, Dimmy.]

But I ain't no madman.

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