Chasing Rusty Parker Ch. 11

Author's note: thank you for reading, everyone! JRSON, I think people around Rusty would expect him to figure this out on his own! Exluke1, thank you for your concern, and I believe that this time around there won't be other major interruptions. Rusty is thinking of some things, and they'll be revealed in time. KAMS, Rusty's naughty mind will go places, lol. Princera - yes, you are right, Dex is not yet in a relationship, and he will be... but that won't happen for a long time.

Thank you again, and I hope you'll enjoy the new chapter! Also, if you post a comment anonymously, it helps if you leave some sort of signature, so that I don't repeat 'anon' without being clear who I'm talking to.

Now let's get ready for some locker room fantasies :)

Chapter Eleven -- Do You Ever Dream Of Cat Boys?

Matty played with the straw by pushing it to hit the bottom of his glass and watching it being pushed back by the laws of physics.

"It looks to me like you're developing a little bit of an obsession," Rusty said, stopping his mind from wandering.

"What obsession?"

Rusty grinned. "It's a bit loose, but I think it's about penetration." He pointed at Matty's glass. "We'll get to that in our lessons."

Talking about penetration over breakfast at a fast-food place near campus seemed an unlikely way to begin the day, but there they were, and Matty couldn't say that he was surprised. With Rusty, everything was new, fun, exciting, and by laws of nature yet to be discovered, naturally surprising.

"So," Rusty continued without waiting for a reaction from him, and taking a large bite out of his hamburger, "what's your type?"

"My type?" Matty dallied. He needed to tread carefully. If Rusty began guessing that Matty was crushing on him, all bets would be off, for sure. That would make things awkward between them. Therefore, he needed to play it cool but without appearing like a pathological liar. "I'm flexible, I think."

"Hmm." Rusty examined him with his intense green eyes.

Matty licked his lips and looked away, and then sipped at his soda, pretending that everything was normal. Yeah, right. He had spent the night in the guy's bed. The temptation to shout his victory from the top of his lungs was high, but the logical part of his brain took over. "What's the 'hmm' for?"

"You're flexible, and yet, not one guy has ever been good enough for you. Are you like one of those chicks with a list?" Rusty asked.

Yes, if the list said, tall, blond, kinky, and his name was Rusty Parker. Of course, Matty needed at least a couple of pages to list everything he liked about Rusty, but in a nutshell, that was it. "What kind of list?" he dallied again.

"You know, no older than twenty-seven, playing the piano like Liszt, seven feet tall, in possession of a chauffeur and an army of help, battle scars from his stint in a third world country where he saved a bunch of kids from hunger while learning another -- the seventh -- foreign language... do you need me to continue?"

"I don't have a list like that," Matty said.

Rusty continued to examine him with narrowed eyes.

"What? I don't," Matty insisted.

"You're not getting away," Rusty warned him. "We'll do a short quiz. But you'll have to answer without thinking. If you take too long, I'll discard the answer."

"What if I say 'no'?"

"We'll be here all day," Rusty threatened.

"Fine." Matty sighed. "Go ahead."

"Hair color?" Rusty began immediately.

"Blond." Matty wanted to bite his tongue.

"Eye color?"

"Green." Fuck, he needed to think ahead if he wanted to fool Rusty. If he asked about height, he'd say average.

"Top or bottom?" Rusty wasn't playing by the rules.

"Both."

"Excellent answer. Momma's boy or the apple of daddy's eye?"

"Just eye candy is enough."

"Smartass," Rusty said under his breath. "Do you ever dream of cat boys?"

"What?" That was a question he hadn't expected.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Rusty said and seemed slightly disappointed.

"I like cats," Matty offered, although he felt like the moment was lost.

"How would you feel," Rusty said slowly, his eyes on Matty as if he wanted to hypnotize him, "about wearing a cat's tail?"

Matty swallowed hard. "How would I do that?"

"You know." Rusty leaned back in his seat. "Sex shops carry this stuff. Fluffy tails attached to butt plugs. I think they'd look good on you."

"I don't know," Matty murmured and searched for help in his soda glass once more.

"It's all right. How would you feel about making out with a cat boy?"

"You mean, someone who cosplays?" Matty asked cautiously.

"Yeah. Some pretty guy, not some alley cat," Rusty assured him.

Matty had a distinct feeling that he knew what kind of cat he liked best, as he looked into Rusty's mischievous green eyes. "I think I'd take the alley cat any day," he said in a heartbeat.

That earned him a surprised, yet pleased look from Rusty. "You don't mind getting down and dirty, do you, Matty?"

With you, any moment of the day or night.

"Why haven't you hooked up with anyone?" Rusty continued his string of questions.

"I like the boyfriend type of thing better," Matty replied promptly.

Rusty grinned, as if he was pleased by that answer. "So, why no boyfriend?"

Matty frowned, trying to form a reply that didn't say Because I've been crushing on you since freshman year. "I guess the right person hasn't come along or something."

"A-ha," Rusty said and pointed his paper napkin at Matty. "You do have a list. That's why no guy is good enough. There's no such thing as the perfect guy, I'm telling you. If you meet someone who seems perfect, something must be wrong with him. Something you can't tell at first."

"Like what?"

"Like, his feet smell bad," Rusty replied immediately. "Or he doubles at night as a stripper and can't get it up, unless you stuff his skimpy underwear with one-dollar bills."

"Kind of a cheap stripper, but okay," Matty admitted the argument. "Wait, did you meet guys like that?"

"I've never looked for a guy," Rusty said with a shrug. "But if I had, I bet I would've found some strippers."

"Loving your confidence," Matty said tersely. "Why cat boys?" he decided to ask a question of his own.

Rusty pursed his lips for a moment, but then he smiled. "Do you read Xpress?"

"Sometimes. When it's about Rusty Parker being into cat boys." That was a bit of a lie. Zoey was the one busy keeping him updated on everything the gossip rag had to say about Rusty.

"Well," Rusty began while stretching and putting his hands behind his head, "how much time do you have?"

Matty grinned. Rusty always liked a challenge, so he rose to the occasion. "Until I finish these fries." To show that he meant business, he grabbed one and dipped it in ketchup.

"Well, for starters, they don't mind showing everything," Rusty said.

Matty grabbed two fries and stuffed them in his mouth.

"I mean, you've seen how tight those costumes are? They need the perfect body for that kind of thing. And, it's like they're basically sex on legs, I mean paws, but because they need to behave like cats, they have to pretend that they don't want it."

"Want what?" Matty stuffed his face with more fries.

Rusty leaned over the table. "They're dudes," he whispered, "and they want to be petted on the butt."

"Just like gay guys," Matty pointed out.

"Nah, nah, you're missing the point. Boy, you have an appetite. Slow down."

"Right." Matty didn't know whether to grab all the fries and gobble them down, or to endure hearing all about cat boys and why Rusty liked them. The chances were that he wasn't any of that, at all.

"What they want is hidden," Rusty continued to explain. "But it's also on display."

"Very confusing." Matty eyed the last two fries. "How's that attractive?"

Rusty grinned again. "You can make them admit it. You can grab them by the tail, smother them in your arms," he illustrated his point by hugging himself, "and then, at one point, they sigh, and they realize that they cannot escape. And that they actually like it a lot. And then, they look at you, like, 'don't stop petting me or I'll scratch your face'. Do you get it now?"

"Wouldn't be easier to get a cat?" Matty suggested, down to the last fry now.

Rusty waved. "Nope. I want a life-size one. I want to pet him and smother him and pull at his tail to annoy him. It just makes things interesting. You can finish that now."

Matty took the fried slice of potato and looked at it. "Nah. I want to hear more about cat boys."

Rusty surprised him by snatching the fry from his fingers with his mouth. Then, he leaned back and chewed, pleased with himself.

"Are you going to come to the game next Saturday?" Rusty asked, changing tack.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Matty said. "Hey, you know there's a live one around here, right? A cat boy?"

Rusty seemed pensive, while Matty waited with bated breath. "So they say," he eventually replied.

Matty didn't know what to make of that. Why wasn't Rusty bragging about meeting the cat boy? And that would have been his chance to learn what Rusty really thought of Slicky Coolplums. Although, again, maybe not. Rusty didn't let on more than he wanted to.

Right now, he wasn't being honest, and Matty felt disappointed for some reason.

"Done?" Rusty asked. "Thanks for the food, man. And don't forget about the game."

"We're going to see each other before then. You can remind me again," Matty joked.

Rusty shook his head. "We'll have to skip our Friday thing."

"Yeah, of course. The game is more important."

"It's not that," Rusty said, but then looked away as if he regretted saying too much. "See you then, Matty. Don't let me down," he added in a playful tone.

Matty just nodded. Why did it feel like Rusty had cracked open a window, only to slam the door in his face? Maybe it was just his imagination. He was overthinking each and every one of Rusty's actions and words. And that wasn't healthy.

***

The annoying part of having his dad attend the game on Saturday wasn't his mere presence, although that was on the list, too. It was everything that came with it, his dad's insistence, his own resistance to whatever the man wanted for him, but without telling it to his face.

Everything was a barter between them. Do you want that new shiny toy, son? Shoot that ball. Do you want me to visit more often? Shoot that ball and be a man. Do you want me to tell you that I love you? Nah, the thought didn't even cross his dad's mind, ever. Rusty doubted Roy Parker really loved anyone, in the sense that he had seen other people doing it. Everything was a strategy with him. He had married Rusty's mom young, and he had considered that a mistake for a long time. Rusty didn't dare to go as far as to ask if he was included in that mistake, because he feared that he knew the answer. Going for validation of that guess wasn't at the top of his list.

His dad had a new family because the woman lived where he worked now, and he needed someone to take care of the house. Someone to have other kids with, because perpetuating his genes had to be somewhere on a list. Rusty had two younger half-siblings he rarely saw, a nine-year-old boy and a seven-year-old girl. He didn't need to be that good at math to know when the boy must have been conceived. A little before his mom and dad had divorced. That said a lot about Roy Parker and his penchant for solid planning. Since it was so important for him to come home after work to a warm home-cooked meal and a woman who didn't have any other purpose in life but to serve him, he had made sure to replace Rusty's mom with someone who fit the bill a lot better.

Words muttered under his breath had said a lot about what Roy Parker thought about his first wife. That hadn't been a well-planned choice. Sharon was a fragile soul -- his words when he was nice -- too inclined toward self-inspection to be practical. Therefore, they were a bad match and had been so from the start.

Rusty shook his head. He was letting his dad get to him without even being present, and that sucked. Even late in his teenage years he had hoped that his dad would come back and admit to having made a mistake. And that he would also assume responsibility for Rusty's mom's melancholies instead of leaving his son to deal with them.

He had dealt with them, in his own way. His mom loved his voice. Sometimes it worked to get her out of her funks, but not always. It was a thankless job, not because she didn't appreciate his singing, but because she always told him not to disappoint his dad. The unspoken words: the way she had done.

That was it. He needed to get into game week mindset. That meant, regretfully, abandoning any thoughts of fooling around with Matty and Slicky Coolplums, the two very bright highlights of his life at the moment. They represented everything his dad hated or, at least, what Rusty was doing with them: superfluous, strange, and - what was another nice word his dad often used? -- indecent.

When he had told him over the phone during the summer that he couldn't come visit because he was working as a stagehand alongside Maddox and Jonathan, that conversation had been a weird one. His dad didn't know who Jonathan was. So Rusty had just said the words 'Maddox's boyfriend, soon to be fiancé', just to get a rise out of him. Always thought that boy was a queer one. That had been directed at Maddox. No, his dad hadn't always thought that. On the contrary, he had kept on using Maddox as an example of what it meant to be a man, along with Dex and Kane, because he expected Rusty to develop what he called a healthy competitive spirit, directed against his closest friends.

At least his dad had refrained from telling him to ditch Maddox as a friend. At least he understood Rusty was no longer a boy he could impress with one hard, cold stare or a hurtful word.

Senior year would end, eventually. After that, Rusty was free of his deal with his dad. Roy Parker had asked his son to finish damn college, and that was what he would do. There were no outstanding contracts to consider afterward.

Rusty closed his eyes as he threw himself on the bed. It was a lot more pleasant to think of Matty and his pretty lips. Or about Slicky Coolplums and his tail. Ah, damn, he had to restructure some of his fantasies. While his cock still twitched at the thought of having the two play with each other, just earlier, he had had a revelation: he felt rather possessive of both. Who was to say that he wouldn't get jealous if he had both of them in the same bed?

Wait, the answer was simple. It had been revealed by that weird dream from after just having met Matty in the cafeteria, right? He could be the meat in that sexy tutor and cat boy sandwich. Both of them would go for the Mighty Thor, while Rusty could just chill and enjoy the treatment.

What if they got jealous? He didn't expect it from Matty since he was an uber-cool guy who was only interested in studying; threesomes had to be brought up as a topic to examine during their lessons. However, the cat boy was a different matter. He might just get very jealous of Matty, regardless of having no reason to do that.

Ah, damn, he needed to think things through. Maybe that could be his prize after the game on Saturday, to have those two together, with him between them. It might not happen right away, because he needed to catch the cat boy first, but it was a cool idea to toy with. Would Matty be able to tame the little beast? Rusty liked to think that his sexy tutor had it in him.

But first, he needed to focus on the game and the game only, and boy, that was boring.

He sighed and got up. Ah, but he knew how to make it more interesting. Quickly, he fired out a message to the guys on the team. If they played just for fun at least once, they'd endure game week a lot better.

***

"So, you remembered," Zoey said the moment he answered his phone.

"Remembered what?"

"That you have a bestie, obviously," Zoey pointed out. "Who's just dying to find out all the details. Spit it out. Did you two do it?"

"Zoey, you know it's not like that. And it would be way too gay of him to jump to that, don't you think? He just gave me some, you know, instructions on how to handle guys and such." Matty was sure he was blushing, even though he was completely alone.

"Ah, I see how it is," Zoey said, sounding as sly as a fox that wanted to be caught.

"How is it?" Matty asked, against his better judgement.

"You can't talk about it, which only means one thing."

"Which is? Are you going to make me extract each word from you?"

"It's a little punishment for not telling me everything, but I get it, Matty. It must have been really intense. You two must have crossed lines that have never been crossed before--"

"Dream on," Matty interrupted her.

"It was good, Matty, am I right or am I right?"

"Okay, you're right." Matty sighed and dropped on the bed. "It was good. Or even more than good. I can't describe it."

"I totally get you, my friend. Now, are you ready for us to go watch some basketball practice?"

"What basketball practice? It's Sunday."

"And yet, the guys are practicing with some friendly sparring or something."

"What guys? Do you mean, our guys?"

"Word has it that Rusty convoked an emergency meeting to think up their strategy."

Matty didn't say a word for a moment. Rusty hadn't mentioned that. Not that he had to, since he was free to do what he wanted, but it just felt like, between friends, it should have come up. Maybe they weren't friends. How had he even gotten that idea?

"How do you know about it?"

"It's all over Xpress. All the chicks on campus are there, ready to show their tits to the king."

"Good for them," Matty said dryly. "And him."

"What's with the sour tone, buddy?" Zoey asked.

"I'm not sour," Matty protested.

"You know that's what you're going against. Tits."

"You really like that word, don't you, Zoey? For the record, I'm completely flat in that area, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Not entirely flat," Zoey insisted. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Thanks for the pep talk, but what do you want me to do? Go there and flash my naked chest? People are going to think I'm mental."

"Well, I'm sure Rusty would appreciate it."

"Weren't we supposed to hang out and do stuff that is not Rusty-related?"

"What could be more fun than watching a bunch of sexy dudes sweating it out while passing a ball between them?"

"So, this is more for you than me," Matty concluded.

"As long as you're coming, it sounds good to me. Let's go."

"Rusty is going to think it strange that I'm following him everywhere, don't you think?"

"Everyone is going to be there. We'll get lost in the crowd."

Matty had to admit that he felt tempted. The more time he spent with Rusty, the more he wanted to be around him. Not that it was healthy, but otherwise, he lived a pretty healthy life, so he was allowed one vice. "Okay. But we're not going to make ourselves noticed or anything like that."

"Okay. I get it. I concur with your strategy. You need to seem uninterested."

That boat had sailed a long time ago, but there was no reasoning with Zoey. "Yeah, totally," he agreed.

***

Half an hour later, he was hiding in the last row, a baseball cap on his head, and wearing too many clothes. He felt guilty for acting like a stalker, but he couldn't help it. Rusty probably needed a break from all that gay stuff they were doing together. Seeing how electrified the audience was, especially the female part, the king of Sunny Hill would get all the attention he needed from the fairer sex, which he had notoriously neglected lately.

So many times before, he had been in the same situation, watching Rusty on the court, so fast, so precise, like a machine made to score. This informal practice was looser, he could tell. Rusty and the others were clearly having fun, and that made their play all the more entertaining. One guy from the team hugged Rusty tightly and patted his butt briefly after another perfect shot.