I don't own Ocean's 11.
Warning - this is definitely slash and contains sexual situations.
More than slightly drunk, Danny crashed through the hotel room door and bounced onto the unoccupied bed.
"I'm in love." he announced loudly, and glanced over to the other bed to see Rusty's reaction.
He was slightly surprised to notice that the man sitting on the edge of the bed wasn't actually Rusty. He was even more surprised to notice that the stranger's pants were round his ankles. At that point though, he really wasn't at all surprised to see that Rusty was between the man's legs, head down.
Rusty said something. It was slightly muffled, but Danny was pretty sure it translated as "That's wonderful, Danny. I'm so happy for you. Get the hell out." He debated for a moment, the pros and cons of making a 'don't talk with your mouth full' gag, but decided to save it for another occasion.
"You remember that woman from the museum that time? Tess? The red-head?"
Rusty said something else. The stranger – who Danny noticed was tall, dark, and everything that Rusty thought he liked – said "Oh, Jesus", which was singularly unhelpful.
"Yeah, that's the one." he replied. "Well, I bumped into her at the thing tonight, and I love her."
Rusty made a non-committal noise. The stranger twisted round to stare at Danny. Danny stared back. To be honest, he was pretty sure that he currently had an advantage in a staring contest, judging by the way Rusty's head was moving. "Look, man." the stranger said eventually, and somewhat unevenly. "I don't know if you're his boyfriend or whatever but, I mean, like, oh god, he never said anything."
"Oh, we're not together." Danny assured him, carelessly.
He glanced down at Rusty and was somewhat distracted to realize that Rusty was looking straight at him. Looking right at him, while he . . . Danny pulled at his shirt collar. "Actually he's single right now." he added, trying to be helpful. Rusty rolled his eyes.
"Right. Fuck." The stranger sounded distracted. At least he wasn't the only one having trouble thinking.
"So I'm taking her out to dinner tomorrow night." He had no idea why his voice suddenly sounded so high-pitched. "You think she'd like Nouvelli's?"
Rusty nodded. Danny watched the motion of head and lips and tried very hard to think of something else. Stopping what he was doing for a moment Rusty raised his head and said "Remember to actually pay the bill this time. With money."
"Hey," the stranger began. "What's with . . . " Then Rusty put his mouth back, and the guy trailed off with the kind of self satisfied groan that made Danny just a little bit envious.
"I'm going to take relationship advice from a man who's had twelve first dates this month and no call-backs?" he demanded, unaccountably, a little angry.
Rusty sighed, pointedly, causing the stranger to grab onto his hair tightly.
Danny had always liked Rusty's hair.
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to clear his head. "Anyway, I think this could be something. I think she could be the one."
She was gorgeous, smart and witty. Everything he had ever wanted. Danny had to admit, he was something of a romantic at heart. He wanted that one, perfect relationship that would define his life. He wanted someone who would understand him as completely as he understood them. Someone he could be with forever without getting bored.
When he opened his eyes again, Rusty was watching him with a serious expression in his eyes.
Then Rusty leaned forward and, still looking right at Danny, did something with his tongue that had Danny gasping for breath, and knocked the stranger right over the edge.
When the screams had died down, the guy ran for the door, pulling his pants up as he went. "Fucking weirdoes, god."
Danny sniggered, and turned to say something to Rusty, but was arrested by the sight of his partner staring pensively at the door. Then he turned back to Danny, and, once again, staring right at him, slowly and deliberately swallowed.
Danny bit his lip hard, and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "So, who was that?" he asked, awkwardly, trying to break the tension.
Rusty was still staring at him, but there was a subtle difference in the meaning of the stare. "Name's Phillip. He said he was a stockbroker."
"He said?" Danny questioned, leaving aside, for the moment, the question of whether Rusty should be sleeping with anyone by the unfortunate name of Phillip.
"In that suit?" Rusty snorted. "Unlikely." He flopped onto the bed, in a peculiarly boneless manner, and retrieved a Hershey bar from under the pillow. "You know, this sort of thing is why I don't get second dates."
Somehow, Danny doubted that he was referring to his habit of stockpiling candy against emergencies. "If you're that upset about it, next time put a sock on the door, or something." he suggested, lying back carefully.
"I did. And the door was locked."
Oh. Right. That had been why he had to pick it. And he vaguely remembered throwing something with an argyle pattern away. "Maybe if you didn't give everything away on the first date, you'd get a second."
There was the rustle of candy wrapper. "Are you calling me . . . "
"Yep." he answered quickly.
Rusty hesitated for a moment. "Fair enough."
There was a pause. Rusty ate his candy. Danny thought, desperately, of algebra.
"At least I'm an equal opportunity slut though." Rusty began suddenly. "I sleep with men and women on the first date. You seem to be back in here, after your date."
"It wasn't a date. I just ran into her."
"That counts."
"No it doesn't. Anyway, some things are worth waiting for."
There was another pause. "Yes they are." Rusty agreed finally. Curious, Danny turned his head. Rusty was staring at the ceiling, expressionless. For once, Danny had no idea what he was thinking about.
Danny was thinking about Tess, and dates, and not at all about the look on Rusty's face, or the thing he'd done with his tongue. It should be easier than this. Actually, it shouldn't be hard at all.
"Hey, Rus'?" he said quietly, half hoping that he wouldn't be heard.
"Mmmmh?" By the sounds of things, Rusty was seriously considering falling asleep.
"You ever think that maybe our relationship is a bit odd?" he blurted out. There was silence and Danny seriously regretted being drunk enough to ask that kind of question.
"No." Rusty said eventually. "It makes perfect sense to me."
Yeah, maybe it did at that.
"Can you . . . " Another Hershey bar landed on the pillow next to him. "Thanks."
He reached out his hand for the remote.
Thank you for reading, please review.