Hide and Seek
Title: Hide and Seek (drabble)
Fandom: Oceans Eleven/Carmen Sandiego
Characters/Pairing: Danny Ocean and Carmen Sandiego (and a bit of Rusty thrown in for spice)
Rating: R
Word Count: 533
Notes: Because I seriously have a fantasy about Carmen and Danny hooking up. It's a George Clooney/Catherine Zeta-Jones thing, what can I say? It's self indulgent bad porn :D
Could probably fit in with this.
Rusty always hid in the kitchen. Something to do with that food addiction he was always denying he had. Still, Danny would never complain. There was something sexy about finding Rusty digging through the fridge in nothing but bare skin. Sure, it meant the game was essentially over without any thrill of the chase, but Danny had a weakness for watching his blonde friend drink skim milk straight from the carton. He'd wipe tiny white dribbles of liquid away from his chin with the back of his hand and make some silly joke about replacing it with something else liquid and white…
Concentrate, Ocean. Concentrate.
He had to concentrate. Unlike Rusty, Carmen liked to hide. She was good at it. And the trail of red clothes and lingerie that had led him to the kitchen in the first place proved to be a false trail. She was good at those too.
It was a good trail. His kitchen was red. So were her panties, her bra, her garters, her shoes, her dress, and her lips. To Danny's credit, it would have made complete sense if she'd been hiding there. It all matched; and then it would just be him, Carmen, and those black stockings she'd been wearing with the seams that traveled forever up the back of her legs. The garter belt lay on the floor in front of him, but the stockings were nowhere to be found. There was some hope yet.
For once there was some merit to the accusation of thinking with his cock. He was. It was more than apparent as he was practically dragged in the direction of the bedroom by his erection. Obviously Carmen was more of a bedroom woman, it was saying. She was classy and he probably wouldn't have the pleasure of screwing her on the breakfast table until at least the second date.
"Well look who finally made it." Carmen had a husky voice. He liked that, a low voice in women. Call him crazy, but it just turned him on. Well, that and the black, back seamed, nylon stockings. Danny didn't even care that the red heels were back in the kitchen.
"You pulled an Addis. I thought you were in the kitchen." His pants couldn't come off fast enough and when he could feel the cool air against his cock it was all he could do to keep from jumping on top of her to make it warm again.
The smug grin that set on her lips as she looked down at his crotch only further enticed him. Her legs were bent and spread, with her feet planted firmly on the mattress and her toes hanging ever so slightly over the edge. She rested back on her elbows and watched him for a moment before beckoning him to come closer. "The kitchen? Do I look like Rusty to you, love?"
Danny approached, getting down onto his knees so that he could run his hands up and down the wonders that were Carmen Sandiego's legs encased in nylon. "Thank God, no…" Rusty didn't wear black hose (on a regular basis, at least) and he couldn't swing Rusty's legs over his shoulders like this before digging into the feast between them.
He would be quite occupied not thinking about Rusty for a good while.
Fandom: Oceans Eleven/Carmen Sandiego
Characters/Pairing: Danny Ocean and Carmen Sandiego (and a bit of Rusty thrown in for spice)
Rating: R
Word Count: 533
Notes: Because I seriously have a fantasy about Carmen and Danny hooking up. It's a George Clooney/Catherine Zeta-Jones thing, what can I say? It's self indulgent bad porn :D
Could probably fit in with this.
Rusty always hid in the kitchen. Something to do with that food addiction he was always denying he had. Still, Danny would never complain. There was something sexy about finding Rusty digging through the fridge in nothing but bare skin. Sure, it meant the game was essentially over without any thrill of the chase, but Danny had a weakness for watching his blonde friend drink skim milk straight from the carton. He'd wipe tiny white dribbles of liquid away from his chin with the back of his hand and make some silly joke about replacing it with something else liquid and white…
Concentrate, Ocean. Concentrate.
He had to concentrate. Unlike Rusty, Carmen liked to hide. She was good at it. And the trail of red clothes and lingerie that had led him to the kitchen in the first place proved to be a false trail. She was good at those too.
It was a good trail. His kitchen was red. So were her panties, her bra, her garters, her shoes, her dress, and her lips. To Danny's credit, it would have made complete sense if she'd been hiding there. It all matched; and then it would just be him, Carmen, and those black stockings she'd been wearing with the seams that traveled forever up the back of her legs. The garter belt lay on the floor in front of him, but the stockings were nowhere to be found. There was some hope yet.
For once there was some merit to the accusation of thinking with his cock. He was. It was more than apparent as he was practically dragged in the direction of the bedroom by his erection. Obviously Carmen was more of a bedroom woman, it was saying. She was classy and he probably wouldn't have the pleasure of screwing her on the breakfast table until at least the second date.
"Well look who finally made it." Carmen had a husky voice. He liked that, a low voice in women. Call him crazy, but it just turned him on. Well, that and the black, back seamed, nylon stockings. Danny didn't even care that the red heels were back in the kitchen.
"You pulled an Addis. I thought you were in the kitchen." His pants couldn't come off fast enough and when he could feel the cool air against his cock it was all he could do to keep from jumping on top of her to make it warm again.
The smug grin that set on her lips as she looked down at his crotch only further enticed him. Her legs were bent and spread, with her feet planted firmly on the mattress and her toes hanging ever so slightly over the edge. She rested back on her elbows and watched him for a moment before beckoning him to come closer. "The kitchen? Do I look like Rusty to you, love?"
Danny approached, getting down onto his knees so that he could run his hands up and down the wonders that were Carmen Sandiego's legs encased in nylon. "Thank God, no…" Rusty didn't wear black hose (on a regular basis, at least) and he couldn't swing Rusty's legs over his shoulders like this before digging into the feast between them.
He would be quite occupied not thinking about Rusty for a good while.