It's maybe their fourth, fifth time playing blackjack together at the D.I. when Danny looks over at Rusty, takes a sip of his drink, and says, "You need a new suit."
Rusty looks down at his busily-patterned shirt in shades of blue and the serviceable brown slacks. "You don't like my ensemble?" When Danny doesn't answer, he adds, "I know Reuben set you up with his tailor. No ruffles, all right, man?"
"Reuben makes them work," Danny replies, the corner of his mouth tugging into a soft smile.
Rusty returns it with interest. "Yeah, but we're not Reuben."
Reuben's tailor is an elderly Italian man named Egidio, who looks critically at Rusty in his yellow polo and slacks with lifted brows and declares he'll have no issues. Rusty's swept into a smaller room, with Danny trailing behind them, indulgent expression on his face. It's one he wears a lot and Rusty thinks sometimes about protesting, but every time he wants to, he gets distracted enjoying it, and Danny will usually buy him some food or something right about then.
Egidio's shop is immaculate, so Danny won't be smuggling in any donuts - Rusty could really go for an apple fritter right now - but his assistant offers them coffee while Egidio gathers whatever tailoring things he needs to gather. Rusty has to stand up on a little platform, but Danny settles into a chair in the corner, unbuttoning his jacket as he does. Rusty can feel Danny watching him over the rim of the cup. "You can relax," Danny says after a minute. "It's a fitting, not a trip to the doctor."
Rusty hums at that and finishes his coffee as Egidio returns with an armful of material.
It's not the doctor, but Rusty does get nudged and prodded, turned this way and that, as Egidio takes what seems like a thousand different measurements. Then he's directed to put on some sort of prototype jacket - carefully, as it's half made up of straight pins. Danny smirks from the corner. Save me, Rusty mouths at him in the mirror, and Danny smirks some more.
Egidio moves a bunch of the pins as Rusty holds himself perfectly still. "Si, eccellente," Egidio murmurs, then something else in Italian to his assistant. Chalk is involved for a few minutes, and then Rusty is released from his pin-studded prison. "Give me twenty minutes to make changes. Roberto will bring you more coffee."
Roberto refills their cups, then disappears.
Danny comes up behind him. Warm hands readjust the collar of Rusty's polo. "I know I shouldn't," Danny murmurs, close to Rusty's ear. "Don't proposition your friends, right?" A finger strokes down the back of Rusty's neck and he shivers, meeting Danny's eyes in the mirror. Rusty doesn't have any issues with what he sees there. Danny adds, "But I would have enjoyed doing that fitting myself."
Danny's hands move over his arms, fingers circling Rusty's biceps, then tracing the lines of Rusty's abstract tattoo, still fresh enough that the light touch makes him inhale sharply. Maybe one day he'll get it filled in, but for now he likes the double swirling lines. Danny traces them down to the back of Rusty's hand, and from there puts his hand on Rusty's thigh.
"Like, from here to here," he says, still close to Rusty's ear, and his fingers walk from Rusty's hip to his knee. "And here." The fingertips glide up the inside of Rusty's thigh.
There's a polite cough from outside the heavy drapes blocking off the room. "Signor Egidio is nearly finished with his work and should be with you in a moment," Roberto calls.
"Thanks, Roberto," Danny says, as easy as ever, and slides back into his chair.
Rusty thinks about getting lost in the Arctic circle, tornadoes (a fear since childhood), and Bambi the movie non-stop for thirty seconds. When Egidio returns with another slightly more well-fitted mock-up, he's fine. He'll just pretend Danny's not there for the remainder of this.
"You can't do that to me, Danny," he says in the cab.
"I didn't think you were so young that a simple stroke of the thigh would get you all hot and bothered," Danny replies, smiling. Rusty gives him an unimpressed look.
It's a little earlier than either of them like to gamble, so Rusty goes up to their room with Danny ambling along behind him. Inside the air conditioning is set to freezing, which Rusty appreciates. He does decide it's not too early to break open the minibar, and grabs two Absolutes and a pair of glasses. Danny's going through what he's hung up in the closet. He approaches Rusty with a jacket, saying, "Try this on, it's one of Egidio's."
"You don't have to manipulate me," Rusty replies, letting Danny help him into the jacket. Danny settles it onto his shoulders, turns the collar down correctly, and smooths the material down Rusty's arms. Then he urges Rusty to turn around. Danny adjusts the lapels, fastens the single button, and presses his palm against Rusty's cock through his slacks.
"I think you could wear this jacket fine with a polo," is what he says. "It's maybe a little tighter in the shoulders than Egidio would make for you, but you can move all right."
Rusty takes a swallow of the cold vodka and pushes against Danny's hand. "Ah, so this is about me wearing your clothes."
Rusty ends up sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning back and braced with his hands, as Danny frees his cock. He's still wearing the jacket, and Danny doesn't do much with the rest of his clothes besides opening his fly. Rusty feels like he can't take a deep enough breath to really satisfy the pounding of his blood, not enough oxygen to stop his head from swimming.
Danny takes a sip from his glass, then licks his lips. The first touch of his mouth is cold. Rusty moans. Danny looks up at him from under his lashes and the heat rolls in Rusty's veins as Danny curves his tongue along the underside of Rusty's cock, vodka-wet as he takes Rusty a little deeper. Then he pulls off to take another sip. Rusty shudders in anticipation.
Danny empties the glass, then - the only way Rusty can describe it - gets to work. Rusty's dimly aware of the sounds escaping from his throat as Danny slides his mouth down Rusty's cock until his lips meet the hand he's curled around the base. His other hand runs slowly over Rusty's side, over the jacket, like he's stroking the material. Rusty figures he is.
"Danny," he gasps, curling forward a little, touching Danny's cheek.
"You look good in my jacket, Russ," Danny says before he swallows around Rusty's cock.
"Where the fuck did you -" He loses the rest to a groan. Danny speeds his movements and Rusty can feel himself sweating. He's close to coming, so he nudges at Danny, but Danny just looks up at him and pulls on Rusty's polo. "Danny," Rusty says again as his pulse rockets wildly. Danny makes a soft sound in the back of his throat; it sends Rusty over the edge. He's barely aware of Danny swallowing, then licking Rusty's cock clean before sitting back on his heels.
"Wow," Rusty manages to breathe.
Danny gives him a sly grin and carefully tucks Rusty's dick back in his pants.
Once Reuben gets wind of Rusty's visit to Egidio, he insists on buying Rusty's first suit. "No arguments, none," he says, over poker and Sidecars at the Stardust. Rusty has no choice but to agree.
"You put him in something classic, yes?" Reuben asks Danny. Rusty glances briefly at the ceiling, then back down at his cards, and finishes his drink.
Danny's gaze tracks over Rusty's gold button-down. "Nothing but the best for Rusty."
"I know that look," Reuben says to Rusty. He signals for another round. "Danny's going to light that shirt on fire."
Danny doesn't cause Rusty's shirt to go up in flames, but he does rip it from Rusty's body in a fairly ruthless fashion before shoving Rusty down on the hotel bed and pushing his thighs apart.
Danny comes with to Rusty's final fitting and watches from the chair in the corner of the dressing room as Rusty stands on the platform. Roberto helps Rusty into the new jacket as Egidio watches critically. "You have a belt that will properly compliment this suit?" Egidio asks.
"Sure," Rusty replies, as Danny says, "No, but I'll get him one."
Rusty narrows his eyes at Danny. Egidio walks around him in a circle. "Button it."
Rusty does, then unbuttons it at the next order. "Eccellente," Egidio murmurs. "And check the pockets? There. Roberto, now the slacks."
"I think I can put the pants on myself," Rusty says dryly, and Danny snorts. "Hey, no comments from the peanut gallery over there."
"This one you can take today," Egidio tells Rusty once he's tried on the slacks. "I will make one in gray, and one in black, all right?"
"Grazie," Rusty says as Danny's mouth curves in a smile, clearly pleased. Rusty's definitely getting laid tonight.
"I really did not expect clothes to do it for you," Rusty gasps out as Danny rubs his cock through his slacks, slow and dirty. "Are you going to buy all my underwear for me now too?"
Danny makes a contemplative noise. "What you wear now is fine," he says after a minute, then pulls on Rusty's brand-new belt. "You been down to Luxor yet?"
"You want to move?"
"I heard the steak place there is amazing."
"Yeah, from who?" Rusty manages to ask, even as Danny's hand slides into his briefs. "Fuck, Danny." He pushes his leg forward to press against Danny's crotch and feels Danny's cock start to swell.
"Two a.m. blackjack crowd."
That's right, Danny had been gone when Rusty woke up thirsty around three, one man in a very large bed with sheets that were somehow soft yet crisp, like Danny's shirts. The pillow still smelled like Danny's woodsy cologne. "The steak, huh?" He unbuckles Danny's belt now, a very straightforward classic leather.
"I suppose I can't do anything about your love of shirts in shiny and outlandish colors," Danny says instead.
"It's Vegas," Rusty laughs, and Danny doesn't even try to hide his smile.