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[by victoria p.]

 

Rating: Adult

Summary: "I'm a thief and a con man. How the hell am I the responsible one?"

Notes: For Nestra, on her birthday. Thanks to Bethy for looking it over.

Date: June 4, 2005


Danny stood behind the couch and slid his hands over Rusty's shoulders, heavy and warm through the silk of his shirt, heading for the waistband of his pants.

"We don't have time," Rusty said, not even looking up from the monitors. "Livingston'll be back any minute."

"Since when did you become a woman?"

"You mean, since when did I become the responsible one?"

Danny's clever thief's hands unbuckled Rusty's belt. "You've always been the responsible one."

"True. That's kind of scary." Rusty shifted a little, spread his knees wider and tipped his head back. Danny leaned forward over the back of the couch and rubbed his check against Rusty's, one hand slipping into Rusty's boxer briefs. Rusty let out a long, low breath that turned into a soft moan as Danny stroked him. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to concentrate on the conversation instead of the sensations coursing through him. "I'm a thief and a con man. How the hell am I the responsible one?"

"I don't know." Danny's voice was warm and rough in his ear.

He brushed his thumb over the slit and Rusty made a small choking noise. "Fuck."

"I don't think this is gonna take that long."

The bastard sounded amused. "Are you impugning my manhood?" Rusty managed, trying not to thrust into Danny's hand.

"Am I-- Rusty, those books were for your mother."

Rusty groaned and thumped his head against the back of the couch. "Could we not mention my mother right now?"

"I suppose I could refrain." Danny's teeth were sharp against his jaw, and his hand moved faster, delicious tension spiralling high and tight through Rusty's body. "But what do I get in return?"

Rusty knew quite a lot about negotiating from a position of weakness, but the jerk and twist of Danny's hand was too much. Bright lights sparked behind his eyes as he came, hips pushing off the sofa into Danny's grip.

When he opened his eyes, Danny was next to him on the couch. He took Danny's hand and slid first the index finger and then the middle finger between his lips; he'd missed the taste of himself on Danny's skin. Danny growled, eyes hot with need.

"I think we can arrange something," he said with a smirk when Danny withdrew his hand.

Danny opened his mouth, but they both heard the doorknob rattle as Livingston fumbled with the keycard.

Rusty sprinted to the bathroom, one hand clutching the waistband of his pants to keep them from falling off. He leaned against the door after he closed it, breathing a sigh of relief.

He heard Livingston ask, "Where's Rusty?"

"He got a little overexcited about something. He's in the bathroom."

"Oh."

As Rusty cleaned up, and resigned himself to going commando for the remainder of the day, he decided Danny would definitely be paying for that later.

end

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Disclaimer: All Ocean's 11/12 characters belong to Soderbergh and Warner Bros., etc. This piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.