angelgazing (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
angelgazing) wrote2005-10-31 10:16 pm
angelgazing) wrote2005-10-31 10:16 pm
Entry tags:
ficlet: a movie's not worth seeing - o11 - danny/rusty
title: A Movie's Not Worth Seeing
fandom: O11
rating: PG-13
summary: Danny's distracted, and thinks that there should be some new rules put in place.
words: 666
notes: Big huge giant Hagrid sized thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
musesfool and luzdeestrellas because they totally win at helping (and making) me write. This never would've gotten done without them. :) Written for the Snackfood is Love challenge; the prompt was popcorn.
It takes three minutes and four fifths of one extremely long trailer for Danny to realize that this was a really bad idea.
He's not new to bad ideas, he's had too many ideas in his lifetime and the law of averages is pretty clear about how he can't be new to bad ideas. Well, the law of averages and his hair in the eighties, but he doesn't like to think about that. Those are hard times to remember, and he runs a hand through his hair briefly, before he goes back to contemplating his doom.
Rusty sucks the extra butter from his popcorn off his fingers, and even in the dark theater, Danny shifts uncomfortably.
---
Mentally, Danny is establishing rules for the next time he gets dragged into this, mostly because the movie is boring and Rusty's mouth is shiny from whatever they use that passes for butter but probably isn't really, and that's just distracting.
Rule number one is that he gets to pick the movie, because Rusty is apparently a girl. Rule number two is the banishment of popcorn. He's willing to go to extreme lengths for this one. He might pay them to be out of popcorn, or to have the machine suddenly break, so that Rusty's left with Jujubes as his only option.
Jujubes would not make Rusty's mouth shiny, and then maybe Danny could actually focus on the movie that he picked (as per rule number one) because Jujubes would almost certainly not inadvertently send him to distraction.
Almost certainly, he thinks again, just for emphasis, and steals a handful of Rusty's popcorn while Rusty's sucking salt and imitation butter off his fingers.
---
For the first time in what seems not unlike four and a half hours that the movie has been playing, Danny's actually paying attention.
Possibly it's the bloody death of the heroine that draws his attention, because he's not engaged enough to care, but if he were he's pretty sure he'd understand the motive. Possibly.
"Are you stealing my popcorn or giving me a hand job?" Rusty asks, and Danny can hear the smirk well enough that he doesn't need to see it. Which is a bit unsettling, actually, since Danny's usually the smirker. He's not sure how to go about being the smirkee.
"Popcorn."
"Liar," Rusty says, and Danny thinks the really unfair thing is that he's the one who taught Rusty to smirk in the first place. Turning the things taught on the teacher is just a little low class. It lacks manners. It's a badly dubbed kung-foo movie.
So Danny smirks back, smirks better, thank you, because on him it's natural, and nothing taught could ever be better than what comes naturally. "I'm not that cheap of a date."
"Pity," Rusty whispers, and shifts further down in his seat. His knee knocks into Danny's and Danny realizes he's still got his hand on Rusty's thigh. He pats it, in a manner that he hopes can come off as falsely sympathetic as he means for it to be, and shrugs.
He looks at his watch in the light from the screen, and realizes with a dawning sort of horror that there's still forty-five minutes left in the movie.
---
"You can't be serious," Danny says, as the lights start back up.
Rusty shrugs calmly and rattles the last of his jumbo popcorn in its jumbo tub and not-really-butter bath. His mouth is still shiny with grease and his fingers are too. To make matters worse, he keeps smirking, leaning against the wall as the crowd flees from the theater the second the lights go back up.
"Well," Danny says, after a seconds thought. Mostly he just doesn't care for being surprised, and isn't actually hesitating for a reason that much more girly or I've-Officially-Taught-You-All-I-Know-esque. Mostly. "Well," he repeats, thoughtfully, "okay."
And maybe he's going to have to rethink his stance on popcorn after all.
Maybe.
But first he's going to follow Rusty home.
fandom: O11
rating: PG-13
summary: Danny's distracted, and thinks that there should be some new rules put in place.
words: 666
notes: Big huge giant Hagrid sized thanks to
musesfool and luzdeestrellas because they totally win at helping (and making) me write. This never would've gotten done without them. :) Written for the Snackfood is Love challenge; the prompt was popcorn.It takes three minutes and four fifths of one extremely long trailer for Danny to realize that this was a really bad idea.
He's not new to bad ideas, he's had too many ideas in his lifetime and the law of averages is pretty clear about how he can't be new to bad ideas. Well, the law of averages and his hair in the eighties, but he doesn't like to think about that. Those are hard times to remember, and he runs a hand through his hair briefly, before he goes back to contemplating his doom.
Rusty sucks the extra butter from his popcorn off his fingers, and even in the dark theater, Danny shifts uncomfortably.
---
Mentally, Danny is establishing rules for the next time he gets dragged into this, mostly because the movie is boring and Rusty's mouth is shiny from whatever they use that passes for butter but probably isn't really, and that's just distracting.
Rule number one is that he gets to pick the movie, because Rusty is apparently a girl. Rule number two is the banishment of popcorn. He's willing to go to extreme lengths for this one. He might pay them to be out of popcorn, or to have the machine suddenly break, so that Rusty's left with Jujubes as his only option.
Jujubes would not make Rusty's mouth shiny, and then maybe Danny could actually focus on the movie that he picked (as per rule number one) because Jujubes would almost certainly not inadvertently send him to distraction.
Almost certainly, he thinks again, just for emphasis, and steals a handful of Rusty's popcorn while Rusty's sucking salt and imitation butter off his fingers.
---
For the first time in what seems not unlike four and a half hours that the movie has been playing, Danny's actually paying attention.
Possibly it's the bloody death of the heroine that draws his attention, because he's not engaged enough to care, but if he were he's pretty sure he'd understand the motive. Possibly.
"Are you stealing my popcorn or giving me a hand job?" Rusty asks, and Danny can hear the smirk well enough that he doesn't need to see it. Which is a bit unsettling, actually, since Danny's usually the smirker. He's not sure how to go about being the smirkee.
"Popcorn."
"Liar," Rusty says, and Danny thinks the really unfair thing is that he's the one who taught Rusty to smirk in the first place. Turning the things taught on the teacher is just a little low class. It lacks manners. It's a badly dubbed kung-foo movie.
So Danny smirks back, smirks better, thank you, because on him it's natural, and nothing taught could ever be better than what comes naturally. "I'm not that cheap of a date."
"Pity," Rusty whispers, and shifts further down in his seat. His knee knocks into Danny's and Danny realizes he's still got his hand on Rusty's thigh. He pats it, in a manner that he hopes can come off as falsely sympathetic as he means for it to be, and shrugs.
He looks at his watch in the light from the screen, and realizes with a dawning sort of horror that there's still forty-five minutes left in the movie.
---
"You can't be serious," Danny says, as the lights start back up.
Rusty shrugs calmly and rattles the last of his jumbo popcorn in its jumbo tub and not-really-butter bath. His mouth is still shiny with grease and his fingers are too. To make matters worse, he keeps smirking, leaning against the wall as the crowd flees from the theater the second the lights go back up.
"Well," Danny says, after a seconds thought. Mostly he just doesn't care for being surprised, and isn't actually hesitating for a reason that much more girly or I've-Officially-Taught-You-All-I-Know-esque. Mostly. "Well," he repeats, thoughtfully, "okay."
And maybe he's going to have to rethink his stance on popcorn after all.
Maybe.
But first he's going to follow Rusty home.