whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[Freddy's not sure either because that ice and those fingers aren't just locked up tight, they're locked up right against his prostate. The chill is intense as fuck. Look Dimmy, his thighs are trembling.]

Have you--done this before??

[Maybe he's misinterpreting Larry's words. What the fuck does it matter it feels crazy. When his body reconciles with the ice's temperature Freddy finds himself wanting more.] Again...

[Like the sound of that, Lawrence Dimick?]

[Lips move on his hip and curve of his ass. The strokes to his cock slow and end up around the tip.]

No. I read about it.

[Man now he has to put his hand against one of those trembling thighs and grip tightly.]

Again? What a fucking tough guy?

[This time he won't be slick or shy about it. Larry reaches into the cup--no more drinking out of that anymore. He spreads his two fingers wide before slipping in the second cube. Both fingers come together to try to hold it deeper. It might make it melt faster. Oh well.]

Human Torch.

Edited 2011-11-24 11:59 (UTC)

[Focusing on the head like that while he ices his prostate just intensifies the trembling. The tighter the grip Larry puts on him the better it feels too. Everything about right now feels like some exercise in contradictory sensations.]

What the fuck are you readin' man.

[But Freddy nods, giving Larry the greenlight to fill him up some more. His back bows even more now that he's on his elbows and his knees spread a little wider as if it'll make taking a piece of ice easier. That only works for size, Newendyke. Nevertheless that second piece, like the first, slips in best when he tightens, practically a vice around Larry's fingers. Human Torch, says the old man?]

Why are you doin' this to me, Mr. Freeze? [Play along Dimick, even if you don't even know who Dr. Victor Fries is.]

Hustler. Playboy. Shit they got at the casino, baby. I modified it a little.

[More? Fucking hell does he love this man. Larry licks his side, tracing a rib.]

Because I know that you would try and stop my long, cold winter. I have to show you the benefits.

[Nope. Not a clue who Mr. Freeze is other than...he's probably a cold guy. Makes sense. Two fingers thrust a few times, keeping him prepped the next piece is not put in immediately. Larry runs it along the crack of his ass and around the entrance tracing his own fingertips. This is a task for two hands so his cock has to dangle abandoned for the time being. Now it slips on in.]

Nothing like a chill right to your core.

[That dirty dog. Here he is asking him about his dirty movies and all this time Larry's had his dirty magazines. Sneaky. His body seems to bow again when he feels that warm tongue.]

I didn't know...you cared.

[Breathe, Newendyke, don't fucking lose it yet. Oh hell the way he thrusts triggers a flow of precum that only seems to get thicker with a third piece. The first is long melted, the second one on its way. Freddy has to make it last if he wants to come with it on his prostate.] Shit I need to come, Larry.

[Old Dimmy's driven him wild enough the kid drops down to a shoulder with his cheek to the floor so he can start jerking himself.]

[Those magazines are right there. And they do have good articles. Larry didn't say that he beats off to those. He doesn't. He may think about those while he is beating off. A big breasted woman might look on their exploits and approve before joining. Or something.]

I care. I care a lot.

[Larry feels like one more should fit on in.]

Hey. Stop that shit. [He goes so far as to reach to grab his wrist.] I'll do it. And you'll get your ice. Got it?

[Having Larry forcefully stop him from jerking off sends a flash of...something clearly awfully aroused in those almost burning caramel green eyes. Freddy doesn't make another attempt to jerk off but he will nod against the floor and huff.]

Hurry.

[That's one other thing to take away from this, unlike being tied up, held down, shackled, fucked like a maniac, it's this slow aching drawn out sort of action that really puts the kid in a bind. It's in his face with cheeks flushed red as if Larry's been fucking the back of his throat instead of feeding him some fucking ice. Damn. Oh shit what if he plans to make Freddy cry for it as payback??]

[A squeeze for good measure. Now he'll take his and away. He was going to work him and stick the ice in with his mouth again but now it'll require two hands. How Freddy answers will effect the rest.]

Why? Will you blow it waiting?

[Slow and drawn out. That'll be the way it'll go next time. And Larry will have to work him off with fingers first before fucking him senseless. It's decided. The last bit of ice is now slowly working it's way between his fingers through that tight ring of muscle.]

Slips in so well.

[If he could read minds he'd ask the old man why even though he knows it's a lesson in waiting to get what you want, drawing it out so the last of it is a fucking knock out, showing who's the fucking boss to string his orgasm out like this. Larry's such a fucking professional, Freddy loves it.]

Shit I don't know. I fuckin' want it.

[Listen to him beg, voice thin and rasping even though Freddy doesn't have a cock inside him. Hell he doesn't have anything cock-sized inside him yet he's writhing like he's on Larry's dick. He needs to keep his hands occupied or he'll try to reach for himself again. Freddy folds his arms in front of him to rest his forehead on them.]

Fuck...fuckin' shit.. [The kid swallows that piece with ease. All this coldness running across his prostate, up and down his ass, his thighs are still trembling. Please, he's thinking but not saying.]

[Why? So that these old brown eyes can take in the sight of this man as a shaking, shivering mess. The better to wreck him completely. It's a favorite past time. Larry also feels that Freddy is playing catch up in so many ways. Don't want him to feel left out or anything.]

Whatever you want, tough guy.

[Larry's two fingers are feeling frosty. He pushes them deeper, reaching for the shaking man's prostate. Since he is sure that there is nothing else to occupy himself the old man crouches to fit his head under Freddy if there's enough room. He tilts the kid's cock to one side to suck it. See? He's not heartless.]

[A fucking professional and a gentleman. Freddy's so fucking lucky to have Larry, a patient bear of a man who wants to please him and care for him even if sometimes doing what's best for Freddy happens to also displease him. A fucking good old man and he's all his.]

Fuck, Larry.

[He gasps for the depth of those fingers, the chill of the slow melting ice, and then the sudden hotness at the tip of his own dick before it runs down his shaft in the form of Larry's lips. Without even thinking he starts thrusting against his face. Nothing hard and rough like how he fucked Larry but it's eager to race towards the finish line.]

[It all goes both ways. Freddy is such a good man. A better man than Larry thinks. Not a murderer and all the things he ever said were not meant to harm people. Fucking the kid, buying him things won't take away from the fact that the old man is a criminal. He wants to treat this man like he deserves to be treated. Why isn't there someone else here doing it

Who is more deserving of Freddy?

Lips lock and show no sign of letting up. The rest of his fist strokes what he can't fit in. Face fucking is welcomed. The salty tang of precum and warm skin are far warmer than the ice water.]

[Sometimes Freddy asks himself the same question, who is more deserving of Larry? It's not their place to answer though, not entirely, and so far being together regardless of whether or not they deserve each other has turned out pretty okay. Just look at them fucking around twice in a row on the floor of their comfortable safe apartment. He would never have thought this was possible in Los Angeles, a dream perhaps, but nothing more.]

You're such a bastard. [Panting like fucking his face is payback for his payback. He's pushing forward only to push back on those fingers.] You're so good to me.

[Wait what happened to being a bastard? With nothing to hold onto, Freddy has no choice but to dig his fingertips into the floor as he unloads cum down Larry's throat. The kid is fucking shaking and groaning.]

[A bastard is right. A low down, inglorious sort of a bastard that somehow is able to do good things.

This may as well be a dream. It's wonderful. Each day even with a curse they get to have time together that was far fetched. They talk about everyday things and strange, unique things that make that conversation just different. Could this truly be replicated any other place?

All that shaking and release makes the suffering and build up worth it. That's why Larry does it. The more fight the better it ends out to be.

He plans on swallowing it down, moaning once again like a cocoa colored woman getting fucked hard in the ass by some Hercules.]

[He's shaking all right, shaking and shivering and writhing and making sure he doesn't lose a drop of cum to any place except for Larry's hot mouth. Freddy's fucking thoughts can't seem to catch up with him either, all of a sudden he's so fucking tired it takes every ounce of strength and willpower to not just lay down on his stomach, on the old man's face. Words don't suffice, right now Freddy's just huffing and panting, then groaning and panting, then just panting.]

Holy shit...

[That was intense. The kicker is not all of the ice in his ass has melted yet so he still feels a chill inside, albeit not as sharp as before.] Fuck, Larry.....come and kiss me.

[The kid breathes in exhaustion.]

[One good long draw on him like he's trying to get the very last cherry coke from the frosted glass. Then he pulls away, dragging himself a little on the floor to that panting mouth. There might be a little left for him if that's what he was looking for.

His mouth collides with Freddy's. It may not be easy to breathe but that's what he feels like. In case the message wasn't clear that this old man cares so fucking much about this shivering body.]

[Larry's right on the money there but even if there's no wad for him to swallow too he'll happily carve the taste out of the old man's mouth with his own tongue. Tired wiry arms around him too, Freddy wanting to settle against Larry, on top of him or under him. Whichever way.]

[Whatever way he pleases, the old man will just lay there. It's more clean then last time. His hands don't stay still as they fall into a lazy roving and petting. Usually this kind of a mouth to mouth contact has some sort of a swelling wave crash over the lovers or swelling music. Nope. Just them in their apartment, the smell of cigarettes and sex in the air.]

Mm...Larry.

[Another kiss then another lick to the inside of his mouth. Another kiss. No music or surf here, no Hercules and two big titted ladies either.]

...You're crazy.

[As if Freddy Newendyke is one to talk. What's ice in the ass compared to being locked up in the x-bar or sucking his dick off after it's been in his ass.]

All because of you. [Just them on the floor. Shit. Larry's not sure if he broke into another sweat or it was the same one but he feels half stuck to the floor. Paws grip at the back of Freddy's head and one of his thighs to keep him close.]

Drive me so fucking crazy.

[Getting him all hot and ready for action all the way home and falling into a clever fox's trap.]

You started it.

[Freddy retorts with a smile. Well it's true ain't it? The old man came home huffing and puffing and looking to bend him over but he got folded instead. Hah. Freddy fucking loves it and he loves his old man. Enough to sleep on him. Look at the way he closes his eyes, stuck in those paws.]

Naw. You did. Writing stories with some pretty apparent innuendos.

[Huff. Well, not to say he didn't bring it on himself. He would do it all over again. Even if it means that his ass is gonna feel raw tomorrow. It already has an aching feeling to it.]

Are you down for the count?

[Stroking his hair which is in quite an interesting state. With those eyes hidden behind long lashes and freckled eyelids he is pretty sure he has his answer already.]

Everything's got innuendo man.

[The kid argues, then he waves a hand which turns into patting and settling on a broad shoulder.]

Naw, just resting my eyes.

I know. Seldom does it have a neon light pointing right to it.

[When he does that it makes him think of an animal. Shit. They got that sort of quality between the two of them. Not just for fucking. For sticking together and surviving too. They gunned down zombie motherfuckers through the streets of LA.]

Let me know if you're cold.

[Laughter doesn't ring out. He manages to stifle it but his belly shakes silently.]

I don't got no neon lights. Maybe a bat signal.

[That's called packing up if you ask Freddy and now that he's run on four legs with a few other dogs he really knows what he's talking about. No need to discuss who's the alpha though, thanks.]

Inside or out?

[He asks with regards to coldness. Freddy rubs a palm over that slightly shaking belly, hairs, softness over hard muscle, and all.]

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