whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

I guess. I wouldn't know, I didn't meet the guy, but I'll take your word for it.

[He gives the old man a little smile, somewhat sheepish still for holding it back even though he thinks in the end it was a better idea to give Larry the chance to tell him on his own anyway.]

You got me. I didn't shoot you. We got this. [Day. This situation they're still working out with days better than others.]

He doesn't.

[Bite the bullet, Dimmy.]

We fucked. I wrapped up for it, trying to be like any other notch in the bedpost.

............. [Oh. Freddy quirks a brow.] S'that why you waited to tell me?

[This isn't a trick question, Lawrence Dimick, honest.]

Yeah. Yeah it is. [Ahem.] I wanted to tell the whole truth.

[Because that is important. Honesty is tough shit, they're tougher than that.]

...Was he any good?

[Another question that's no trick. He wants to know if the older version of him had a body Larry could still find desirable, ability and attitude to match. Part of him doesn't want to know, thinks it's selfish to bother at all, but Lawrence Dimick did fuck him. He's entitled to having some curiosity satisfied...right? After all, it's Freddy's birthday.]

There was something cold about it. Like it was rough, rushed....must have been the norm for him.

[Difficult question that he must navigate the best he can.]

He knew how to take it.

[Leaning forward for a better look at that face and prominent nose.]

It wasn't like fucking you, baby. And I'm not saying that because of the condom. [There's always something right there between them. The old man's not mooney enough to forget what it's like to fuck someone you don't love. But that was different all together.]

Okay.

[He nods. Freddy knows he ought to get mad, ought not to let Larry off so easy, but he can't wrap his mind around an older version of himself, devoid of all the change this very man has helped to bring out. Why did he fuck him? Was it to see if there was a trace of the younger Freddy left? Was it to see if maybe the older one could find it in his heart to love him? Shit all these unfair questions...because Freddy would do the same had it been the other way around. He's sure of it.]

It's okay, Larry. [He nods.] I hope he's alright.

[It's strange to talk about himself like that but it's a genuine sentiment, and speaking like he's a completely separate human being makes the kid feel better, like he'll never turn out that way. But only time will tell.]

[Watching his face this close he's looking for tells that would let him know that he's going to get hit, or that this is not going to end up well. That is what most people get when they with hold truths. They have gone at it before because of that.

Larry was digging for meaning. Could it have been that their brief brush with one another mended a wound in that man? Sex isn't match, not by any stretch. The most he hoped for was a connection, some sort of proof that with age Freddy would still want him.]

Me too. [One paw now tries for another touch, pulling back his hair. This is where he's at. ]

[Caramel green eyes half-lid for the pull through his hair. It's a comforting gesture, the weight of his hand on the kid. If that other version of him had had this from the start maybe he wouldn't have been so angry. They'll never know.]

If anything like that happens to you, I'll let you know.

[Freddy Newendyke promises, leaning in until they're forehead to forehead.]

[They're so close now that the only other place for his arms to be are around this man.]

Thanks. [And Freddy can take as long as he wants to tell him the details.]

But I got a feeling it was one of those one time things, lightning doesn't strike twice.

[Thunder only happens when it's raining.]

Edited 2011-12-23 10:24 (UTC)

Never say fuckin' never.

[Because once upon a time a cop thought he would never fall so hard for a criminal. Freddy leans in just enough to then tilt his head and press his mouth to Larry's.]

[Older Freddy wouldn't do that. He had to be trampled on, made to do it like it was some dirty act. Hell, Dimick it still is. Their own world wouldn't be so indifferent as this place if they walked on down the street the way they did.]

What should I say then.

[Before he falls on into that mouth again and doesn't want to come back out.]

Wish me a good twenty-eight years.

[There. He'll acknowledge the actual occasion. Larry probably knows as much as a kid he can be Freddy's never been one for making a big deal out of his birthday. Must be something to do with always having his birthday eclipsed by Christmas. But with this old man that's not the case at all.]

I wish you the best twenty-eight years a fella could have.

[Mouth moves on his nose, his cheeks, his eyebrows, his jaw.]

And then some.

[Meaning that they gotta have more champagne. And get real warm and cozy.]

Like the rug?

Thanks, it's been pretty crazy. Maybe I'll make it to thirty.

[Questioning his own (im)mortality is just a joke. He'd like to make it to thirty, to forty, to an age where he can say with pride this is my kid and maybe even this is his pop. Just dreams though, far off fantasies that need no sharing when he's only twenty-eight. Freddy tilts his head to shape against Larry's mouth.]

I do. Too bad we can't take it home. It's pretty classy.

I think you could easily do about thirty five with your eyes closed.

[Lets get him to lay back on this classy, furry rug. Say, there must have been some kind of another curse that had one in it. Which one was that...]

You want one of these? For Christmas?

[To go with the few things he got for the kid.]

[Looks like someone's going down. Down down down. Now his back is flat to the dead furry beast. Weird he feels like he's been on one of these before. Ah well.]

It ain't necessary. What am I gonna do with it without a fireplace, huh?

[That's good for starters except he needs to get out of all these clothes.]

What would you want first?

[As if the most interesting thing in this cozy cabin is the furniture. Belt off, kiddo. That tee is gonna get pulled way, way up. The better to feel fur on skin.]

I don't know, man. You ask some pretty hard questions.

[Because Lawrence Dimick always does well with the right responses, like removing pieces of Freddy Newendyke's clothes. He'll help out too, wriggling where necessary until he's shirtless on the rug, knees parted so Larry can settle between his thighs.]

[Settle he does after taking off his own shirt. Skin to skin to fur.]

Only because I care about answers. Kinda demanding I guess but uh....I get results.

[His mouth is on the move again. He's got half a mind to pour that champagne all over him. But then that'd spoil the nice, nice rug they're working on appreciating completely.]

Yeah, you sure do...

[Like how those paws and mouth can have him melting in seconds so soon after finally telling the kid he fucked his older self. Freddy really doesn't have any ground to stand on where that's concerned anyway, and he doesn't want to argue it. Whatever made that older version of himself so miserable, Lawrence Dimick was obviously not the cure. He was too far gone. Freddy doesn't want to be like that, he wants his days from here on out to be like this moment. Freckled arms wrap around that bigger broader body.]

[The timing has worked out. Even though he tried to play it as cool as possible, the truth was starting to develop into an anxiety on a physical level. And we're not taking about headaches and pains. It's a great release. Getting worked up with a guest star helped but one on one? Well... Freddy's soreness had certainly helped him skate by a day longer.

That Freddy Newendyke was not the kind of man that Lawrence Dimick could make love to. He would probably find a cold night and a warm cabin to be too unrealistic to bear.]

Still sore, baby?

[With a big, rough hand pressing between his legs to feel for a bulge.]

Please.

[Those caramel apple greens roll over that question. Playfully of course. He knows Larry's concern is always genuine but he has a feeling this time it's meant to be more of an egostroke and--oh there we go. He arches his back, pivoting his hips right into a paw.]

I'm--fine... [Huff. That bulge is getting warmer with all that blood rushing to it.]

Probably won't be as bad, you know. Because it's not a third leg.

[Larry's chuckle ends up in the crook of Freddy's neck. Jeans have been peeled off and kicked away, now he's buck naked before this fire. Good enough to fucking eat. They make good, long videos about this. And this is their life.]

You sure are fine, my man.

[The better to nip and suck at. If it bothers Freddy enough he can wear a scarf.]

I think I'll--live.

[His breath hitches from the way he breathes into his neck. Damn that was fast work, Lawrence Dimick. Now he's completely bare under the old bear but that doesn't make Freddy completely useless.]

Bullshit. I'm a piece of work. So're you.

[He squirms under the heavier guy only to press on his shoulder then hook their legs to roll them over. Yes, the kid wants to be on top, and if he succeeds he'll make quick work of White's clothes too. Whatever he still has on anyway.]

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