Chasing Rusty Parker Ch. 32
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2023 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Gay Erotica
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong
language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
Consider making a donation to Nifty by clicking the little blue button
on the front page, as they help us all enjoy so many great stories, while
aiding authors like me to display their work.
~
Chasing Rusty Parker is the sequel to my story Good Guys Don't Date Bad
Boys that you can also find here, on Nifty.
~
Chapter Thirty-Two I
Used To Know You
Last night had been
electric. Rusty couldn't sit still. He had gotten up before everyone else,
aware that he would soon have to fend off a wave of questions from his besties,
and went out for a run. The campus was still quiet at that hour, while a thin
breeze, cutting a bit through his clothes, had just begun, an early morning
announcement that the weather would soon change for the worse. He sat on a
bench and took out his phone, hoping that the hour wasn't outrageous for the
call he was dying to make. "Mrs. May," he whispered in a heartbeat after the
short exchange of greetings, "I did it. I'll send you the video that's just
started circulating online. It was taken by someone on their phone, but I think
it's pretty good."
"You are moving fast. I
like it," she commended him. "Give me a little. I will tell you what I think
right away."
He waited, wavering
between excitement and worry. The people listening to him last night had
applauded him, but that wasn't enough. He needed to hear an educated opinion,
and he was just lucky that Mrs. May didn't like sleeping in on Sundays. When
the phone rang back, his thumb was already hovering over the screen.
"First of all,
congratulations, Rusty, on your first outing as a singer," Mrs. May said
brightly. "I am quite impressed with how well you held your own across the
range. A lot of singers have trouble with this kind of control. But you sounded
like yourself as you went low, as well as when you went high. However, there is
still some work we need to do on really low notes. Also, there was a bit of a
hesitation in the beginning. I suppose I can attribute it to first public
appearance jitters. Wasn't that it?" she added in a pleasant voice.
Rusty felt all giddy
inside. Of course, he had work to do on the lower notes, and he knew it. As for
that hesitation, Mrs. May was right, and he wasn't about to contradict her
because he didn't do stuff like that in front of an authority in the field like
she was. There was no point in bragging or pretending it wasn't so. "Yeah. And
you were correct to tell me to move more into those lower ranges. I mean,
that's one way to keep myself from sounding like a cartoon character."
Mrs. May laughed. "Along
with your voice, you must also cultivate your persona as a singer, Rusty.
There's a certain dignity that comes with this profession. For now, I won't
scold you too much. And I believe that before even being a singer, you are an
entertainer. That is not something I'm willing to stifle in your development.
You really know how to make a crowd fall in love with you, and that's no small
thing."
"Thank you, Mrs. May," he
said, while the patch of warmth in his chest spread until it filled him
completely.
"Don't forget about our
next session. I'm waiting with bated breath to teach you more, Mr. Rybalt," she
said in a playful tone.
"I still have eight or
seven sessions left. Afterward--" he started, wanting to find out what her
usual rates were and expecting them to be quite high.
"I already let Francine
know," Mrs. May interrupted him. "You don't have to worry about anything of the
kind. However, she told me that she expects nothing but excellence at the end
of our time together."
"Geez, man, talk about
pressure," Rusty mumbled. "I should talk to her and tell her that I can handle
my own stuff."
"I wouldn't dare if I
were you," Mrs. May said, and she was only half-joking by the sound of her
voice. "How about we both work hard and surprise her?"
"I don't think she's that
easy to surprise. She's listened to the best, like live and all that," Rusty
said, suddenly feeling little compared to the rest of the universe, or at least
the part of it that mattered.
"All the more reason to
put your all into it. I'll do my part," she assured him.
"Then I'm all in, too,"
he said solemnly. Francine was a tough cookie, but, man, that woman could
almost make him want to cry. There was so much trust in how she behaved toward
him that he had no idea what to make of it. If only the stuff could be bottled
and stashed away for later use; he'd make it last a lifetime.
"That's good to know,
Rusty. Or do you prefer Rybalt more?" she joked.
"Not when you're teaching
me. I can be myself then." He stopped in time. These women were making him
spill more than he intended to. "Bye, Mrs. May. Thank you for everything."
"Oh, I intend to put you
through hell to get your voice in top shape. You might not feel so thankful
after that. Bye, Rusty. I can barely wait."
He felt full and content
as he put the phone back into his pocket. Life finally made sense.
***
There were so many pieces
he wanted to practice, he thought, as he began making a selection on his phone,
while on his way to eat breakfast. He felt too energetic to get back to the
house, and all his friends were still sleeping. Plus, this way, he could also
enjoy brunch with them later.
He grunted when he was
suddenly attacked from behind just as he got close to the fast food place.
Someone crashed into him and put their hands over his eyes. "So, Rybalt," a
cavernous voice began, "any last wishes before breakfast?"
For a moment, he froze,
but then he realized that there was only one person in the whole world who could
see through his charade so easily. He thrust one arm quickly behind him and
caught his attacker. Then, turning quickly on his heels he faced his opponent.
August burst into laughter, most probably because of the expression on his
face.
"How could you tell?" he
asked directly.
She tilted her head to
one side, giving him that legendary look of hers, the one that made you feel
like there was no one else in the entire world. Today, it only filled him with
fondness, but there had been a time when it used to do a lot more to him than
just that. "I used to know you, remember?"
Yeah, there was no doubt
about that. "Are you reading Xpress all the time now? Don't you have any
hobbies?" he teased her.
August's smile grew
larger. She wrapped one arm around his. "How about I buy you breakfast? We have
tons to catch up on, right?"
They did. That was
another thing he couldn't deny. "Nah. I'm going to buy you breakfast," he said.
"Finally, I have some pocket money," he joked.
"Sure, I won't argue. How
are things with your dad?"
He shrugged. "He's
himself. It's not like I have any hope he's going to change now. Although, he
seems like a better dad to my brother and sister than he's been to me."
"And how does that make
you feel?" she asked as they entered the fast-food restaurant.
"Are you majoring in
psychology or something? Stop picking my brain," he complained, but that was
the way they talked, provoking each other, giving each other stuff to think
about.
"Actually, I'm more into
trade these days," she said.
They sat across from each
other at one of the tables. To gain some time, Rusty pretended to be busy with
the menu, although that place barely had a handful of options to choose from,
and he usually picked the same thing. He wanted to ask her so many questions,
and yet, his tongue seemed tied. Maybe he was afraid of opening some Pandora's
box and then shutting it before hope managed to get out. Maybe he needed to
stop picking apart his own brain.
That summer had seemed
magical at the time, outside the boundaries of time in a way. It had only
lasted while it lasted, and yet, that mixed bag he had carried along all this
time hadn't grown old and moldy enough to stash away for good. August had known
he could sing. Besides the people at his old school before moving, no one else had
known at the time. He had tried showing off his skills to his dad, just to
prove that he had something special, and he had been promptly shut down. In
front of August, he had done it at first just to show off, too. Only she hadn't
shut him down; on the contrary, she'd told him that one day he'd become a star.
She had meant it. She meant everything she said, which was why, after that
summer, when she told him that she would never leave her husband, he'd gotten
so mad that he never returned her calls.
Only it looked like
something had changed. He went to place their order and waited for it, his back
turned to where she was sitting, trying to make sense of the nest of thoughts
inside his head. Had she woken up and realized that it was no way to live,
hoping that scumbag would finally see the light and change his ways? They had
that much in common, probably. They both hoped and hoped and believed in a
change that was bound to never come.
She took a sip from her
soda and smacked her lips in delight, the same way she'd used to while they
were gobbling down junk food, but only after arranging it prettily on plastic
plates just to make each meal feel festive somehow.
"So," he asked,
pretending to be busy with his burger, "how's it hanging, August?"
"It's not like you to
beat around the bush. Go ahead, ask what you want to know."
"Fine," he said and
leaned back in his chair, eyeing her carefully. "Did you leave him?"
August frowned slightly
and took another long sip from her drink. "You can say that."
"What is that supposed to
mean?" He couldn't believe that, after all these years, there were still traces
of pain inside him. It was only this much he could do not to yell at her.
"We're separated," August
explained. "Not yet divorced."
"So, did you finally have
enough of it?" he asked, hating how aggressive, how fucking entitled he sounded
as if he still had the right to ask her anything. Not that he'd ever had that;
August had made that perfectly clear.
August sighed and her
eyes drifted out the window. "Sometimes, feelings turn bad, I guess. Like
pudding."
"Joke more," he said
under his breath. Fuck, this wasn't him, and yet, he couldn't help himself. He
wanted to blame her, but he had learned it long ago that each and every person
was responsible for what they felt.
She looked at him and
smiled. There was something bittersweet in that smile, making her look older
than her twenty-five. "That's something no one can take away from me. When I
stop joking, feel free to turn me over to the big guy," she said, making a
vague gesture toward the ceiling. "That's when I'll know it's over for good."
Rusty shook his head. His
anger moved out of him, draining some of the energy of that morning away, too.
But it didn't feel entirely bad. Just different. "I'm glad for you," he said,
and it was the first completely honest thing he had said since meeting her this
morning.
She offered him a warm
smile. "So," she said, "what's the deal with this Rybalt persona?"
Rusty threw a quick look
around and made a gesture for her to keep it down. "Just some secret project of
mine."
"I see." She nodded, as
her smile turned mischievous. "Who dared to piss on your turf?"
Rusty rolled his eyes.
Yeah, she totally knew him. "Just some scumbags who think themselves smart or
some shit."
"Just to be clear, why do
you need this sexy ghost?" she asked and began stuffing her face with fries.
She had never been the
kind to eat daintily or make a fuss about greasy foods like other chicks. She
was real, and he had always liked that about her.
"No one knows I can sing.
Almost no one. My guys do, and they even had to learn about it because of some
crappy things I did last year," he said hastily.
To his relief, she didn't
ask what things. He had almost ruined Maddox's chances with Jonathan because he
wanted to keep everything hidden about his secret passion.
"I see," she said and
sucked on her forefinger with gusto. "Don't worry; your secret is safe with me.
I still don't know why you don't want to be yourself and just show the world
the middle finger while doing the things you want to do."
"Hey, I'm not asking you
why you can't leave your husband. Anymore," he added and looked away.
"Good point," August
admitted. "But that was the good thing between us, right? No pressure."
Yeah, it had been like
that. No pressure until he had wanted more. And no, not because he wanted her
to himself, like a selfish prick, because at seventeen, he had absolutely
nothing to offer, but for her sake. He had wanted her to be happy, and she had
chosen not to understand a simple thing like that.
"I guess," he said with a
shrug. "What are your plans now, as a free woman?"
August leaned back into
her seat and stretched her arms. "First of all, finish my education. Then, get
a diploma, start getting on the hamster wheel and all that. I suppose that even
people like me need to grow up."
He had nothing to add to
something like that. Supposedly, everyone needed to grow up, and that was a
fact. Only that he couldn't see himself doing that. Maybe later, when the level
of disappointment would be high enough to warrant that. For now, there was no
reason to change anything. He was completely fine where he was.
"How's your boy Matty
doing?" August asked suddenly, taking him by surprise.
"Why? What have you
heard?" Had he missed some juicy piece of gossip that pointed out his special
friendship with Matty?
August burst into laughter.
"You should see your face. What? Is he your secret lover or something?" He
didn't have to do or say anything. It had to be written all over his face, but
only she could read that cryptogram. Her eyes grew wide, and she grinned madly.
"Wow, Rusty. I've always thought it would be that pretty bestie of yours."
"Hmm," he mumbled and
now, he was the one busying himself with his drink. For fuck's sake. Well, he
had told August a bunch of crazy things that summer, even about that one time
when he and Maddox had measured their dicks and even touched a little, but it
was quite the jump from that to
He didn't know exactly to
what. Only that August, with her shrewdness, was low-key pissing him off now.
She had been there for like two weeks or something, and she already knew all
his secrets.
August grinned and looked
like that wasn't a bone she was willing to let go of. She leaned over the table,
her eyes glinting. "Come on, Rusty, out with everything. Your little campus
gossip rag talks about you like you haven't missed one girl from freshman to
senior year, and yet there's this mad cute guy who acts all possessive the
moment I do as little as talk to you."
Rusty snorted. "Yeah,
possessive." When had that happened? What had August seen? Did she have
different eyesight than the rest of the entire world?
August snickered. "Yeah.
I could tell. Nah, I'm pulling your leg, actually. All right, so maybe he
didn't give away much, and you didn't either, when I met the two of you, but
you just confirmed my hunch. You wouldn't take just anyone to your brother's
birthday. And since he wasn't one of your well-known besties, I just wondered
how he's special. I believe I got my answer." She leaned back again, with a
satisfied look on her face.
"How in the world--"
Rusty started and then shut up, frustrated with her keen insight. "How do you
even do that?"
August shrugged. "I'm
just good at putting two and two together, I guess. I mean, back then," she
said, without saying the words both of them had to be thinking when we were together "you were
talking about your bestie Maddox an awful lot of the time."
"Yeah, `cause he was my number one bro. He still is," Rusty
argued.
"I know. There's nothing
wrong with having a bro whose ass you're checking from time to time," August said.
"When did I ever tell you
something like that?"
"Hmm, it must be true
what they say about guys having short-term memory after," she explained while
making a vague lewd gesture that suggested exactly what he thought she meant.
"You told me that Maddox must have gotten that ass by fucking a lot. You know,
a lot of action from the hip." Her lips quirked into another roguish smile.
"Fuck me," Rusty groaned
and looked around, although there weren't many people there yet, and the place
was too far off campus anyway for many students to have breakfast there and be
able to eavesdrop on their conversation. "Did I really? Fuck, I can't
remember."
"Well, then it's my curse
that I do," August said and grinned, looking pretty satisfied with herself.
"So, Matty."
"You're not going to let
it drop, are you?" Rusty asked, feeling a bit pissed at August's powers of
deduction. "Fucking cockless Sherlock Holmes."
She just laughed,
throwing her head back, wild and free as usual. That was another thing he had
loved about her at the time. Thought to love. Rusty wasn't that sure he
understood all the fuss about that word. It got thrown about a lot; no wonder
it got bruised easily. "Let me get this straight," he said, straightening in
his chair. "Or not so straight," he added after a short moment of deliberation.
"Did you think I was gay while we were fucking?"
August shook her head,
still amused enough to piss him off a little more. "No, what the hell? Just a
little bi-curious. Wait, do you fancy yourself gay now?"
Rusty snorted. "I don't
fancy myself anything. I like what I like."
August wiggled her
eyebrows. "And, in this case, the ass on that delicious BTS look-alike dude."
"I know, right? That's
how cute he is," he confirmed. Then, realizing that he still needed to be pissed
at August for unmasking him way too easily, he frowned. "Still, you're pissing
me off," he declared.
That only made her shake
with laughter a little more. Great, now she was even wiping tears from her
eyes.
"Wow, you've fallen for a
dude, eventually," August said matter-of-factly.
"Psh,
I don't fall for anyone," Rusty replied, puffing out his chest, a sort of
knee-jerk reaction to being accused of impossible things.
August's laughter died
down. She wasn't even smiling. "It's just sex, then? Damn, and I thought no one
could even hold a candle to your bestie's ass." She was hiding behind a joke,
but her eyes held no humor in them. If anything, she was pinning him down with
a hard stare.
"No, it's not just sex,"
he hurried to convince her, because that was a convenient truth he could live
with. "We're like best buds, too. He has a good head on his shoulders. And he's
tutoring me. Matty's like... you can't know `cause
you're a chick, and you chicks don't have friendships like that."
August sighed, smiling,
this time with mirth, and put one elbow on the table, rubbing her forehead with
one hand. "Then why don't you enlighten me a little more. You know how much I
like learning all kinds of things about guys. And, it feels like I need to
remind you that, on more than one occasion, you told me that you felt like you
were with one of your besties when you were with me. You even accused me of
being sort of a dude, but one with a pussy."
A couple went past them
that very moment and they both turned their heads in surprise at the last word
leaving her mouth.
August waved and smiled
pleasantly at them. "I have a kitty at home, she's this big," she explained,
"and she's really furry. Yeah, she leaves hair everywhere."
Rusty pretended he needed
to tie his shoelaces. August was killing him, as usual. He only emerged from
under the table once the couple had moved away. "Damn, girl," he laughed, "I
can't believe I'm saying this, but you're embarrassing me. I'm the one who does
that to others, just for the record. Anyway, about what you said, I wasn't
accusing you. I was complimenting you."
August rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, I suppose it was the manly part of me you liked in the end."
"That's not true. I liked
all your parts," Rusty protested.
They stopped for a
moment, looking at each other fondly. "We had fun," August concluded for the
both of them. "Now, let me just understand this. Is Matty a secret, too?"
"Kind of," Rusty said
hesitantly.
"What's that supposed to
mean? Kind of shouldn't be in Rusty Parker's vocabulary."
"Well, the guys know, but
not anyone else."
August's eyebrows shot up
and not in surprise, but more like in an incredulous dissatisfaction. "Is he
okay with that? Wait, is he exploring his bi-curious tendencies, just as you're
doing?"
"That's not what I'm
doing," Rusty shot back. What exactly was he doing? Now, that was a good
question. "He's not bi-curious. He's very unapologetically gay."
"Well, at least one of
you knows his own deal," August commented and shrugged her shoulders. "You
still haven't answered. Is it really fine with him to fool around with you on
the downlow?"
"Yeah, totally. He's only
in this to get practice. One day, he wants to get a real boyfriend."
"Why, you're a fake one?"
August sent the ball back into his court with her usual precision.
"I'm not fake, how can
you even..." Rusty scoffed and pursed his lips. "Look, it's like this. Matty
wants to get good at gay sex, so he's using me to do that. We talked about it."
"He uses a seemingly
straight guy to learn about gay sex," August said slowly, as if she wasn't sure
those words meant their literal sense. "Wait, do you play the passive role
while he does the, you know, good ol' to and fro?"
Rusty groaned. "I'm so
not going to answer that."
"But why?" August
fake-complained. "Really, it doesn't seem like a good strategy at all, to go to
a guy with no experience whatsoever for that kind of practice."
"I've had lots of sex
since I was fifteen," Rusty argued.
"Sex with girls," August
pointed out. "I don't think it's the same."
"Well, Matty's more than
pleased with what he's learning from me," Rusty said.
"Of course, because he
has not had that much practice under his belt, so to speak, therefore, he has
no basis for comparison."
August was so freaking
infuriating with her logic. "Say what you want, but we know it's good," he
said, not knowing what else he could say to convince her.
To his relief, she began
laughing again. "I'm just pulling your leg. I know very well what a fast
learner you are, as well as how dedicated you are to everything involving sex.
However, forgive me if I'm still a little puzzled. He doesn't mind at all that
he's your dirty little secret?"
"First of all, he's not a
dirty little secret. He's only a partial secret. And there's nothing little
about him."
August raised her soda.
"Good for you, then. You obviously have a weakness for big dicks."
"Oh, screw you, you
witch," Rusty threw at her, biting his lips not to laugh.
She smiled and then wiped
her hands. "Speaking of which," she said pointedly, "I believe I need to get on
my broom already. Do you want to come along and see where I live? It's not far
from here, and it was a really good deal, seeing how close it is to the
campus."
Rusty hesitated, but only
for a moment. He'd see Matty later tonight, and his bros wouldn't care if he
was missing in action some more. Also, it gave him more time to prepare for all
their questions, something he didn't want to face just now. "Why not?" he said
and got up from his chair.
***
Matty lay on his belly,
textbooks open in front of him, trying to keep his mind busy after the events of
last night. Xpress had already reported on the appearance of a new hero on
campus, but left out the cat boy, which miffed him a little bit. After all, he
had hoped Rusty would see news of Slicky and be content with that. For reasons
he didn't fully comprehend about himself, he didn't want his cat boy persona to
be considered a coward by Rusty. Now it seemed that all that dangerous
enterprise had been for nothing. Xpress had grabbed the bigger bone and was now
chewing on it.
He touched his lips for a
moment. Not that the mysterious stranger, with his magnetic personality, wasn't
bound to steal the show. The kiss, albeit short, had been so cocksure that
Matty didn't know if it warranted a slap or to just melt into it. It was too
late for such debates, and, at the moment, he had been too surprised for
either. Maybe he leaned a bit into the melting option.
Matty shook his head
energetically. He had Rusty in his life, so he wasn't supposed to kiss other
boys. Only that this was a genuine case of his being kissed by other boys; did
that absolve him of any feeling of guilt?
It wasn't about the kiss,
though. It was about how what the hell could the right word be? seduced he had felt in that moment. Was he really that easy?
He wanted to slap himself silly or just laugh. Along came a dark, handsome
stranger and all his passion for Rusty went flying out the window. He really,
really needed to have his head checked. Self-checked.
His internal debate was
brought to a halt by someone coming in. Although he knew that it could only be
his obnoxious roommate, he looked over his shoulder only to notice, much to his
surprise, that John wasn't alone. He and Zoey walked into the room, single
file, both with mournful expressions on their faces, dragging their feet. Then,
as if they were coordinated by a magical wand, they stopped in the middle of
the room, turned and then fell exhausted on John's bed, leaving a decent arm's
length between them. If it hadn't been for that, Matty would have started to
worry that his roommate and his bestie were getting into some nefarious union
together. Wait, actually, they were doing that.
"Who died?" he asked
after the pair sighed in the same freakish unison.
"Decency," John said and
shook his head, as his eyes filled with sorrow.
Matty pressed his
eyeglasses against his face to take a good look at Zoey. She seemed just as
devastated, only her pursed lips were making counterclockwise circles which
meant much to his relief that his bestie was still in there and he didn't
have to run an ad-hoc intervention to save her soul.
"Come on, John," he
teased, "that can't be true."
"Do you know what
happened last night, Matty?" John asked with a long-suffering exhalation. "No,
how could you? You were here, studying, then asleep, like the last vestige of a
dying world of decency."
Matty had a hard time
stomaching that image of himself. If only John knew. He'd probably try to
smother him with a pillow while in the world of dreams. Better not take any
chances, he decided, hoping that he wasn't the kind to talk in his sleep and
thus give himself away. Zoey had turned her head away from them, and her
shoulders were shaking.
John, sensing what he
believed to be distress, took Zoey by the shoulders to comfort her. "We will
have other chances. This isn't over."
"Guys, come on, it's
beautiful outside. Both of you, stop being so gloomy," Matty advised in a
cheerful voice. "However, I need to ask. Were the two of you up all night?"
"We slept together," John
said solemnly.
"You what?" Matty tried
to catch Zoey's eyes, but his bestie had her head buried in John's chest.
"Some of us who felt too
defeated after last night," John explained. "We went to our nest and slept
there, with our heads on the table."
Nest? Really? One meant
for nursing velociraptors, probably, Matty thought. "Zoey, let's take you out
to get some food. I guess they're still serving breakfast someplace. If not,
we'll grab lunch. John, you need some proper sleep and study time," he addressed
his roommate, to prevent any demand from him to come along.
His phone buzzed with a
new notification. He threw one look at it and saw that Xpress had just posted
some new piece of gossip. Maybe they were finally acknowledging his presence at
the scene of last night's events. He'd read it later. Now, he had a bestie to
save.
A bestie, who was now
checking her phone. He watched helplessly while Zoey's face metamorphosed into
an expression of shock and then into a frown. Then, she looked at him with what
looked like some sort of compassion, the corners of her mouth dropping. The
following moment, she began to type a message on her phone, moving her eyes
away from him.
Matty felt his stomach
starting to twist into knots. The second buzz was a message from her. He took
the phone.
CHECK
XPRESS!!!
All caps. That couldn't
be good.
***
Well,
well, well, did we just identify Rusty Parker's main squeeze of the moment? He was
suspiciously AWOL from campus this whole weekend, which, of course, made us
wonder...
Now,
the mystery is solved. Rusty was spotted off campus, in the company of a young
Joan Jett, according to the tip we got. Who's Joan Jett? Yes, we had to google
that, too. Our anonymous tipster must have lived his youth in a completely
different era. Whatever, we must give credit where credit is due, because now
we know what to look for. And it was all at an hour that points to a single
logical conclusion: the happy duo must have spent the night together.
Who's
the mysterious rock star look-alike Rusty's seeing at the moment? Is Rusty into
older women now? Sunny Hill ingιnue does oops, we almost misplaced a letter
there, good thing we caught ourselves at the last moment it looks like you
have nothing on this hot lynx. As you can see, we have our terminology in
place. If you intend to rise up to expectations, upgrade yourselves from does
to wildcats, and then maybe you'll stand a chance.
TBC
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