Danny is very careful about keeping Owen Wilson away from the rest of the people on the beach. It’s not that he’s ashamed , but this feels private. Something he wants all to himself. Todd would just be an asshole about it anyway, while everyone else would give him sympathetic looks and ask him to hang out. While it was nice to be invited, one day of Florence and Emma’s philosophical discussions, Todd’s crude remarks, and Karen’s attempt to wrestle, and Danny has been full up on people-time.
“Just you and me, little buddy,” Danny says, patting the green coconut. The face he’d drawn on it with a scavenged permanent marker looked nothing at all like his Owen, but it made Danny feel better to have something to talk to. The others wouldn’t understand, and if discovered, Danny would simply say he’d named it after Wilson from Cast Away . “An homage,” he’d explain dismissively.
How long could charting the island possibly take?
“Not long at all,” Danny reassures himself and coconut-Owen out loud. Coconut-Owen’s expression doesn’t change, but Danny feels better anyway.
Danny shivers at the feeling of male body underneath him, of the hot press of dick against Danny’s thigh. He rolls his hips and moans. Jesus, they don’t even have their clothes off yet and he already feels like he could come. Everything is new and all the more exciting for it, and he should have known, should have seen the possibility for this. Stubble rasps against stubble as Danny slides his lips along that well defined jawline, the frantic rocking of their hips getting stronger, sharper, until every nerve in Danny’s body lights up and he -
Danny jerks awake with a gasp in time to feel the last of his orgasm. He came in his pants, which is absolutely disgusting, but also rather shocking: he hasn’t done that since he was a teen and hormones were a controlling force in his life. More than that, he’s never had a sex dream about another man before. Is he - shouldn’t he have had this revelation before now? Has he always been interested in men and only suppressed it to avoid the inevitable confrontation with his dad?
“Crap,” he mutters. He sits up, glancing down the beach where the others are sleeping. Nobody had been awakened by him, which is more than Danny could have hoped for. Coconut-Owen lays at his side, tucked partially underneath a shirt to keep him from view. Danny hesitates before grabbing him, tucking him under one arm as he clambers to his feet. The beach curves in down the beach a ways, forming a little cove. They’d been using it as a place to bathe since its discovery. Danny needs a bath and it would give him an excuse to move around, to work off some of this restlessness.
He’s had a gay dream. About his closest friend, his island partner. The chocolate to his peanut butter. Should he feel as shaken by this as he does? Thirty-eight is late to revise one’s sexuality, but he feels an ease in Owen’s presence that he’s never found anywhere else. Hell, Owen is the only one who knows he isn’t really a cop and there has been times Danny has considered telling him about where he really came from.
A lot of things make sense, suddenly. The little quips and remarks some of their friends have made over the weeks. The looks they share when Danny and Owen banter. The thrill Danny feels when he makes Owen laugh, the way his eyes are squinty when he gets up in the morning, and how Danny finds himself staring when the light hits Owen’s eyes and lights them up...
Okay, so it’s definitely been there all along.
“Should I do something about it? Make a move?” Danny asks coconut-Owen.
The terror and instant, resounding NO he feels at the very thought of making a move really seals the deal. All Danny has to go on to judge Owen’s possible interest are the jokes and implied statements the others has made. No way is that enough, and Danny doesn’t want to risk scaring Owen away. He needs his island pal.
“Definitely not,” he says. “Who knows how long we’ll be stuck on this island.”
Finally reaching the cove, he sets coconut-Owen next to a tree to prop him up and removes his clothing. He sets the shirts off to the side, safely out of reach, but takes the pants in with him. It’ll be uncomfortable to wear them while they’re wet, but the alternative is to let his come dry. Todd, at the very least, would be rude enough to mention the smell and the stain.
“I’ll pretend the dream never happened,” Danny tells coconut-Owen. “The real you will never have to find out.”
Coconut-Owen’s smile seems sad, somehow.
The real Owen’s return is not the reunion Danny had been secretly hoping for. Though Owen seems pleased to see Danny, he is mostly focused on the giant tarp he’s found and his plans for it. Getting off the island is an exciting prospect, but Danny couldn’t help feeling a little let down. As Steve takes Owen aside for a little chat, Danny wanders back to where he’s left coconut-Owen, tucked under a shirt next to his bed. Glancing behind himself furtively, Danny pulls him out and sets him in his lap.
“That could have gone better,” he confesses. “I need to get this whole thing under control.” Would Danny have felt this disappointed before he’d realized his feelings? He couldn’t say. It’s not that their lives revolve around each other before Owen took off, but they’ve spent a significant portion of their time together. Is a little ‘welcome back’ hug too much to ask for?
“Why does this have to make things so hard ? Not that kind of hard,” Danny hastens to reassure coconut-Owen, who is still sitting in his lap. “But who knew gay epiphanies made things so complicated?”
“Uh,” Owen says from over Danny’s shoulder. “Are you talking to a coconut? Is that - is that a face ?”
“No,” Danny says instinctively and winces. “Well, yes.”
“Did you just say something about a gay epiphany?” Owen asks, stepping around Danny to loom over him. He looks tired, grumpy, and like the best thing ever. Danny’s heart is pounding and his palms are damp.
“I named him Wilson! From, from the movie, with Tom Hanks?” Danny says loudly. “I thought, wouldn’t it be funny, you know, an homage to a good movie. We’re stranded on an island, we should totally have a Wilson -”
“That’s weird, buddy,” Owen comments, sitting across from him.
“It’s not weird ,” Danny says defensively. He clutches coconut-Owen to him like he’d be snatched from his very arms. “You were gone and I was bored.”
“So you made your very own Wilson? Have you been sleeping with it?”
“Coconut-Owen and I don’t have that kind of relationship,” Danny jokes. He freezes. Owen freezes. After a moment of stunned silence, Owen licks his bottom lip. It’s shiny and looks really soft.
“What?” Danny repeats.
“Did you just call it coconut-Owen? I thought its name was Wilson?”
“It...it is,” Danny says. “Well, I call it Wilson as a reference to the movie, but. Uh. Owen Wilson is a favorite actor of mine.”
“Uh huh,” Owen replies skeptically. His brow is furrowed. He tilts his head and stares at Danny. The silence between them grows uncomfortable for the first time. The small breeze ruffles the blue button-up Owen is wearing. Danny curses his stupid feelings and his dumb mouth and wishes he was instead fending off Karen’s persistent offer of wrestling lessons.
“Okay, so maybe I missed you a little and wanted, you know, to talk to...you,” Danny mumbles. He waves a hand around before settling it on coconut-Owen’s head. He should probably move it out of his lap.
Owen squints. It’s unfairly attractive. “That’s...sweet of you.”
“Todd wanted to rate the attractiveness of all the women on the island. Emma and Florence were talking about experiences of consciousness and Steve’s been busy leadering -”
“Leadering,” Owen repeats. The corner of his mouth curls up. “That’s not a word, you know.”
“It is now! I just used it.”
“Hmm,” Owen hums. He was looking at Danny with an expression he’s never seen before. It is speculative and warm and maybe a tiny bit amused. This is not at all going how Danny has imagined - and dreaded.
“It’s just a little crush,” Danny explains. “I think it started when you left. I’m sure now that you’re back now it’ll fade and we can go back to being friends. Don’t let a little thing like this get in the way of our epic bromance.”
Owen wrinkles his nose. “Bromance?”
“That’s...what Jess called it. She thought it was cute?”
Owen shakes his head. He rubs a hand over his face and sighs. Danny doesn’t know what to say, so he waits while Owen stares at him, biting his lip. Danny’s heartbeat, which has started to slow when Owen hasn’t reacted negatively, starts to pick back up.
“So...are we dating or not?” He scratches at his cheek, trying to look casual.
Danny hasn’t heard that right. “What? I - what? Are you serious?”
“You named a coconut after me. You have it in your lap, and you made a little nest for it by your bed.”
“He deserves to be comfortable too!”
“Dude.” Owen gives him A Look. It takes a moment for Danny to return to the pertinent bit of their conversation.
“Oh. Oh! Yes, we could be...you know. Dating.” Danny smiles nervously. He feels his face brighten when Owen smiles back. They sit there, beaming at each other, for some time. This time the silence feels right, feels good. Danny is practically giddy. Danny has been on that plane to meet the woman of his dreams. He didn’t intend to meet the man of his dreams, but this is good. This is better.
“You should know that I’m not...I don’t usually date ,” Owen confesses. He scooches closer, plucking coconut-Owen out of Danny’s lap, turning him over in his hands. He is avoiding Danny’s gaze, so Danny nudged him with his foot.
“I’m not really gay experienced,” Danny tells him.
Owen starts to laugh. “Gay experienced? That’s - that’s how you want to put that?”
“You know what I mean!” Danny laughs. “Shut up, stop laughing. Is this what I get for pouring my heart out?”
“You did not. You tried to explain everything away. ‘ Owen Wilson is my favorite actor.’ ” Owen mimicks.
“I hate you,” Danny grumbles. “You are the worst.”
“I’m not the coconut fucker,” Owen counters.
“I did not fuck the coconut!” Danny protests. Turdhole, who has been walking by, does a 180 turn and goes back the way he came. Nothing is worth hearing more about whatever this is.
“You are coconut experienced,” Owen continues. “A connoisseur of coconut loving, well trained in the art of -”
Danny tackles him.
Later, when the shouting and laughter goes quiet, Turdhole remains vigilant.
“Don’t go down there,” he warns everyone. “They’re into some weird stuff. Sexual stuff.”
Everyone nods knowingly. Danny has a suitcase full of sex toys and has been pretty depressed after Owen departed. They need time to reconnect.
“Tell me more about the weird stuff,” Todd asks, because he likes gross things.