Rufus had pissed off for a late lunch, leaving Freddy alone to mill around behind the cash register, staring vacantly at the television screen. He'd already flipped through all the new issues from their last shipment. One middle-aged man with horn-rimmed glasses and a dubious haircut was loitering in the back aisles, grabbing all the issues with big-titted heroines on the cover. Freddy had quickly determined that he was harmless and subsequently blocked out his existence, electing to watch music videos instead. He rolled his head lazily against his hand, elbow resting on the counter. His lids drooped, eyes glazing over. Too pop-heavy. Not enough hip-hop.
The shrill ring of the telephone catapulted him out of his stupor. He picked up, cradling the receiver between his jaw and shoulder.
"Rufus' Pound. This is Freddy, how may I help you?"
A warm, familiar laugh rumbled through the line.
"What the fuck kind of name for a store is that?" Larry asked, smile evident in his voice.
"It's a remarkably unwitty pun," Freddy huffed in agreement, face burning.
"Uh huh. I'd tell Rufus not to quit his day job, but..."
Freddy laughed in earnest and glanced over to the back of the store. The cave troll was still mingling. He turned around and gripped the receiver closer.
"Why are you calling me here, man? Is mom okay?"
"Olivia's fine. Still at work. I got the afternoon off and was thinking about going to a movie."
"What's that got to do with me?" Freddy's voice was defiant. He felt light-headed, torn between resentment and flattery.
"I thought I'd ask the resident geek what movie's worth my money."
Freddy's stomach dropped. He licked his lips and rocked against the counter. His brain caught up a minute later.
"Um, Raiders is out in limited re-release. If you haven't seen that, it's really good. Tron is more sci-fi, but the special effects are fucking awesome. Oh! The Wall just came out. I dunno if you like Pink Floyd, but I heard it's pretty trippy..."
"Hmmm. I dunno if any of that is really down my alley, kid."
"Why don't you go buy something new on video?" Freddy asked, glancing back over his shoulder at the customer. The guy hadn't moved.
"It's just not the same to watch it alone. At least a theatre is kinda communal, you know?"
Larry trailed off. Freddy fidgeted and stared down at the carpet. He heard the contained exhale on the other end of the line and it all clicked into place.
"You're not calling me to get movie advice, are you?" he asked, voice low.
"You got me, kid."
"What are you wearing?"
The second he said it, Freddy's entire body burned hot in embarrassment and arousal. It was so cliche he felt like banging his head against the counter. The other end was static. Larry had probably hung up on him.
"Jeans, a polo shirt," came the husky reply.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Freddy had just initiated phone sex at his place of employment. With his mother's boyfriend. He felt suddenly giddy and struggled to tamp down a fit of giggles.
Re: Orange/White: Daddy Kink AU: Untitled (13/?)
Rufus had pissed off for a late lunch, leaving Freddy alone to mill around behind the cash register, staring vacantly at the television screen. He'd already flipped through all the new issues from their last shipment. One middle-aged man with horn-rimmed glasses and a dubious haircut was loitering in the back aisles, grabbing all the issues with big-titted heroines on the cover. Freddy had quickly determined that he was harmless and subsequently blocked out his existence, electing to watch music videos instead. He rolled his head lazily against his hand, elbow resting on the counter. His lids drooped, eyes glazing over. Too pop-heavy. Not enough hip-hop.
The shrill ring of the telephone catapulted him out of his stupor. He picked up, cradling the receiver between his jaw and shoulder.
"Rufus' Pound. This is Freddy, how may I help you?"
A warm, familiar laugh rumbled through the line.
"What the fuck kind of name for a store is that?" Larry asked, smile evident in his voice.
"It's a remarkably unwitty pun," Freddy huffed in agreement, face burning.
"Uh huh. I'd tell Rufus not to quit his day job, but..."
Freddy laughed in earnest and glanced over to the back of the store. The cave troll was still mingling. He turned around and gripped the receiver closer.
"Why are you calling me here, man? Is mom okay?"
"Olivia's fine. Still at work. I got the afternoon off and was thinking about going to a movie."
"What's that got to do with me?" Freddy's voice was defiant. He felt light-headed, torn between resentment and flattery.
"I thought I'd ask the resident geek what movie's worth my money."
Freddy's stomach dropped. He licked his lips and rocked against the counter. His brain caught up a minute later.
"Um, Raiders is out in limited re-release. If you haven't seen that, it's really good. Tron is more sci-fi, but the special effects are fucking awesome. Oh! The Wall just came out. I dunno if you like Pink Floyd, but I heard it's pretty trippy..."
"Hmmm. I dunno if any of that is really down my alley, kid."
"Why don't you go buy something new on video?" Freddy asked, glancing back over his shoulder at the customer. The guy hadn't moved.
"It's just not the same to watch it alone. At least a theatre is kinda communal, you know?"
Larry trailed off. Freddy fidgeted and stared down at the carpet. He heard the contained exhale on the other end of the line and it all clicked into place.
"You're not calling me to get movie advice, are you?" he asked, voice low.
"You got me, kid."
"What are you wearing?"
The second he said it, Freddy's entire body burned hot in embarrassment and arousal. It was so cliche he felt like banging his head against the counter. The other end was static. Larry had probably hung up on him.
"Jeans, a polo shirt," came the husky reply.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Freddy had just initiated phone sex at his place of employment. With his mother's boyfriend. He felt suddenly giddy and struggled to tamp down a fit of giggles.