title: the reservoir dogs
rating: PG-E
warnings: greasers, homophobia, violence, knives, rudeness, butchering of the english language because apparently being bad also means ya got no respect for the english language ya dig?, stealing, bad boys, ooc behaviour i think, this thing has a soundtrack cuz i'm a loser who wishes she was quentin tarantino, guns, violence, shy!freddy, historical inaccuracies, abuse of tenses probably, this is un-beta'd, make-outs, leather, probably a smattering of dubious everything, drugs, sex, cars, sexual tension, shenanigans, hot chicks and hot guys being baaad, a lot of shit will be going down, underage boys being bad, of age boys being bad, etc.
pairing: CREAMSICLE/Mr. White (Larry Dimmick) & Mr. Orange (Freddy Newandyke)
characters: Freddy Newandyke (Mr. Orange/age 14), Nate Johnson (Mr. Brown/age 15), Archie Delman (Mr. Pink/age 17), Eddie Cabot (Nice Guy Eddie/age 17),Vic Vega (Mr. Blonde/age 18), Larry Dimmick (Mr. White/age 18), and a smattering of OCs and canon characters
summary: It's the 50's, and rock and roll is alive, and being bad is so so good. At least, that's how it is for fourteen-year-old Freddy Newandyke. But, everything kinda seems pretty cool when you live a sheltered life, and read books and comics and get great grades and never even go out on Friday nights. But his whole apple-pie-life is changed when he crosses paths with eighteen-year-old Larry Dimmick; The baddest boy in school, and the newest leader of the local greaser gang, The Reservoir Dogs. Perfectly willing, he gets swept up into that man's life of rebellion, switchblades, hot cars, thievery and danger. And he loves every minute of it.
author's notes: so i'm writing a high school au. i've been ficcing since i was 11, and i'm finally doing a high school au. i'm working real fuckin hard on this.
Police-brat-freshman Freddy Newandyke was retrieving his homework and comics and books and and and when it happened. He was closing his locker and he started to turn away when a fist and an arm collided with the space above his head with a rattling bang. His breath caught in his throat when the shamefully familiar leather-and-cologne-and-hormones-and-hair-product smell hit him. He didn't even have to look at the man's face to know that the arm closing him in belonged to Larry "Mr. White" Dimmick, the newly appointed leader of a rough crowd-a gang-called 'The Reservoir Dogs'. See, they basically ruled the school, and this man got Freddy in late night tizzies since he first laid eyes on him three months ago at the start of the year. He looked up and caught his eye on the man's grin. His heart stopped.
"I seen you lookin' at me, kid." Larry said in a low voice from behind the toothpick in his mouth, brown eyes half lidded as he leaned heavily against the lockers.
Freddy opened his mouth but nothing came out except for vowels and air. Larry chuckled. "I don't want any trouble." Freddy barely managed, clutching his things close to his chest and Larry shook his head, saying no! no no no in an easy voice as he chewed absentmindedly on the toothpick in his mouth.
"Aww..There's no trouble, baby." He cooed, and it could have been construed as mocking if Freddy hadn't been looking at his eyes. His eyes were so kind, but with an edge that said i will shoot you in the face if you do me wrong. But their moment of solitude didn't last so long. There was a squeak of sneakers and a shuffle here and shuffle there, and then there were hands and voices surrounding the two of them.
Every single damned Reservoir Dog was crowded around Larry, and saying their goodbyes and their see-you-tomorrow's and their mocking, predatory remarks to Freddy, picking at his clothes and his hair before departing with fading laughter. One of them, only known to Freddy as Mr. Brown, who looked maybe one or two years older, turned around right before he was out of earshot and smooched at Freddy, and it made his skin go hot with shame, and his brow twitched downward. He looked back at Larry, who was shaking his head and staring after them through narrowed eyes. "I'm sorry about them." He sighed, and leaned free of the lockers. "They got no self-control, those guys.."
"No, it's...fine." Freddy muttered, forcing a smile. Gotta stay cool. He rubbed his neck with his free hand before switching his books from arm to arm to arm to arm. Larry smiled warmly, looking just a bit shy now, like he didn't know where to put his hands. So he shoved them into his pockets. He lifted his chin in a signature defiant-asshole-kid gesture that Freddy had yet to get used to.
"Come to the game with me." That mere suggestion, so innocent, had Freddy's heart hammering at a dizzying speed. He raised his brows.
"Tomorrow night?"
"Yea'. I'll pick you up." He looked at the floor, muttering,"or somethin'.." Freddy felt light-headed at his sudden change in demeanor. The way he held himself was more loose, eyes more shy and gentle. And then it clicked. He was playing it tougher around the other Dogs. They must have been watching before. Like freaking vultures.
"I'd really love that..but my old man's.." Freddy halted, chewed his lip, pulled at his stupid sweater. "He's this.." Another pause, and Larry's brows raised in expectation. "He's a cop.. " He finally finished in a heaving sigh, eyes flitting off to the side. The air seemed to turn to stone between them, and when Freddy looked back at Larry, he was tense, face hard and shoulders squared. Shit. Wrong words. He would have been better off shutting his trap, then saying fuck you to his dad on the way out the door tomorrow night. Fuck.
"A cop?" Larry echoed, looking wary. Freddy could have absolutely kicked the shit out of himself. Larry ran a hand through his hair, muttering, then rummaged in the pocket of his jacket for something. Amidst his mutterings, there were strewn utterances of fuckin thing, where, cop, jesus christ and so on and so forth. Freddy locked his locker while he had a moment to think. And then Larry's hand emerged from his pocket, and he grabbed Freddy's arm with his free hand, and pushed something cold into his palm. "See ya, kid."
Then he walked away. Freddy's knees shook as he looked down at the shining metal thing in his palm. It was a Zippo lighter. His eyes widened as he realized what this meant. Larry wanted to see him around. Often. He considered following the man as he turned a corner and out of sight, but he decided to end on a high note, and turn the other way, and walk home.