Chasing Rusty Parker – Ch. 4
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2022 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 Four – I Almost
Touched A Pussycat Tail
"Tension. Knife. Knife.
Tension." Rusty gestured to compartmentalize, using both hands held at a
straight angle.
Maddox looked at him over
the table. One of the awesome perks of having Jonathan over most of the time
was that they got to eat pretty good food. They had to share him with Ray, or
otherwise, there would be a war on campus. Rusty could live with that. He took
the knife he had used to butcher his piece of steak and gestured into the air
like a duelist.
"What are you on about
now?" Maddox eventually asked.
Jonathan gave him a
pointed look. Unlike the rest of them, he held his eating utensils in what
looked like an effortless elegant manner. However, he knew what Rusty meant by
tension. He was clutching his fork and knife just a lil'
bit too tightly.
"Didn't Jonathan tell
you?" Rusty said innocently, ready to stir up some trouble.
"Tell me what?" Maddox
asked and looked at his Jonathan, half smiling.
That guy was so damn
smitten.
Jonathan groaned, patted
his lips with a paper napkin and threw it on the table. "Don't tell me you
wanted me to tell on you, Rusty."
"What? What did he do?"
Maddox asked, his interest piqued.
"I don't know exactly,
and from where I stood, it looked like he was the one having things done to
him," Jonathan enunciated every word carefully. He sighed and turned toward
Maddox. "Matthew is not allergic to orange juice. I just walked in on them, and
Matthew was all over Rusty, naked from the waist up." He returned to his food,
like he had just delivered the weather report.
Maddox grinned. "Oh,
shoot. What did you do, Rusty, to warrant such punishment? Wait, is Matthew
gay? I thought he had a girlfriend. Not that I judge if he swings both ways."
He put his hand up in self-defense.
"That is not his
girlfriend," Rusty said with importance.
"Who is she?" Jonathan
naturally asked.
Rusty smirked and glared
through his eyelashes. "Zoey," he said pointedly, "is just his best friend."
"Aren't you a bit too
interested in your tutor? Since I know you, it's not a good sign. Hell, how did
you get Matthew to undress?" Maddox sounded more and more alarmed.
"Chill, amigo," Rusty
said in a baritone voice, "I'm not going to ditch studying and stuff. But I
plan on bringing Matthew Han to his knees." Satisfied to have voiced his
decision out loud, he grabbed the ketchup bottle and made a little mountain on
the small piece of steak still on his plate. Hmm, it looked like a turd now. He
pushed the plate away.
"That didn't sound dirty
at all," Maddox said in a terse voice. "What did the poor guy do to you?"
"Nah, nah, nah, you don't
understand me. It's for his own good," Rusty started. "You see, Matthew's a
total stuck up. He can't even bend from the waist because of that big a stick
he has up his ass. Oh, man, you should see him. He's like all ice while
stuffing all that shit in my brain. It sucks."
"I have no idea what you
mean, and Matthew is just doing his job. Just don't chase him away," Maddox
warned.
"I don't plan to," Rusty
said brightly. "You see, I'm going to help him get, you know, looser, so that
he can finally land a date. That dude should kill it on the hookup scene, I'm
telling you. Instead, he's just busy sticking that stick further up his ass."
"That's a lot of
innuendo, even coming from you," Jonathan pointed out. "Maybe Matthew doesn't
want to hook up."
"Whatever," Rusty said
waving his head to and fro at a fast pace and rolling his eyes. "The least he
could do is get a girlfriend. I'll help him."
"Whether he wants one or
not," Maddox muttered under his breath.
Jonathan seemed to have
some unanswered questions. Rusty turned dutifully and pointed the fork at him
this time. "Speak now, or forever hold your peace."
"Famous last words,"
Maddox chimed in, uninvited.
"Silence in court," Rusty
called, still keeping the fork pointed at Jonathan. "Ask away, Johnny boy."
"From where I stood,"
Jonathan began slowly, measuring his words, "it looked like Matthew was actually
the one doing, let's say, the molesting."
"Ha! The person who could
molest me hasn't been born yet. It was totally consensual," Rusty replied
calmly. Well, Matthew did spring it on him, but that didn't mean that it hadn't
been all too pleasurable. Rusty felt the signs of an impending stiffy just
thinking of it.
"Are you going gay for
your tutor?" Maddox asked.
Rusty threw the fork on
the plate and began waving his arms. "Dudes can kiss other dudes without going
gay."
Maddox made a face like
he had just landed on Mars or something. "Were you two kissing? Babe, they were
kissing?" he insisted, turning toward his fiancé.
Jonathan nodded.
"Huzza!" Rusty exclaimed.
"Stop blowing things out of proportions. I was just testing his ability to
kiss."
"And?" Jonathan asked.
"Where does he stand?"
"Better not let him
handle any CPR, unless it's a life or death situation," Rusty delivered what he
wanted to be his last line for the evening.
"What's that supposed to
mean?" Maddox asked.
Ah, these children. They
knew nothing. Rusty was already on his feet, but a demonstration was better
than a thousand explanations. He picked his empty glass from the table and
stuck his tongue in it as far as he could. He waved it around while Maddox and
Jonathan both stared at him nonplussed.
"Yeah," he said and put
the glass back on the table. "He's that kind of kisser. The tongue-feeder
type."
Jonathan snickered.
Maddox was biting his lip not to laugh.
"What? It's a real term,"
Rusty protested.
Maddox grinned and threw
him a sideways glance. "You like this dude, Rusty."
Yeah. Maybe.
"I hate his guts," Rusty
declared and turned on his feet. "Keep this a secret from Dex and Kane or --"
"Keep what a secret from us?"
The two bros from different moms walked in at that very moment.
"Rusty got fed some
tongue by his tutor," Maddox ratted him out promptly.
"Oh, shoot. We need to
find another tutor?" Kane asked.
"No, Kane," Maddox
countered. "Hear my words. Rusty was the one on the receiving end."
Kane's face lit up like a
fucking street lamp. "For real? Matthew should get a medal."
"I vote yes," Dex hurried
to agree.
"Guys, guys," Jonathan
called for attention, "I think Matthew would be embarrassed if we mentioned
that."
Rusty snorted. "Like
hell. You don't know that demon."
***
Damn, it felt good to be
the king. Rusty stretched and placed his arms around two girls who giggled
instantly as soon as he touched them. They were new and very much willing to be
introduced to the lord of the realm. Still, as the true king, Rusty needed to
postpone his personal pleasure until later and see that everyone was having
fun. Therefore, he let himself be kissed on the cheeks by the two new
cheerleaders for one-man-team Rusty and moved on. He checked the drinks, the
music, the guy pretending to be the DJ... eh, they could do better in that
department, and maybe later, he'd take over. Some people didn't know good music
if it hit them in the face.
"Man, you gotta try
this." A dude from Kane's team pushed a plastic cup into his hand. "Top notch.
You won't know what hit you."
Rusty looked into the cup
with doubt. He was all for experimenting, and he had tried some crazy shit in
his life, so he knew exactly what he didn't want to try again. Like the guy could
read his mind, he added, "It's just booze, dude. My captain would kill me if I
slipped you something, what the heck?"
Yeah, Kane would totally
have the dude's ass if anything weird happened. So, Rusty shrugged and drank
all the content in one gulp. It was kind of bitter and gross. Rusty turned
toward the dude. "Did you piss in it? Just give it to me straight."
The guy made a face like
he'd never heard a joke in his life. "No, dude, what the fuck?"
Rusty patted him on the
shoulder. "Then we're good."
Ugh, but that thing had
been strong. It went right to his head. It was most probably something
completely unimaginative, like a combination of the strongest liquors college
kids could get their hands on. He sat on the nearest sofa, deciding to take a
break and admire his kingdom. Then he noticed a curly mass of hair sitting on
top of a head. And the head was attached to no other than the keeper of Matthew
Han's dirty secrets, Zoey. Since he had learned about her, he had been curious.
Yeah, so she and Matthew were the kind of people who flew under his radar,
usually, but.
He didn't finish his
thought and propelled himself to his feet. There was a chance a certain
stuck-up tutor was around, with Zoey in the house. Without wasting a moment, he
made a beeline for her. She was bracing the wall and examining the room with
avid eyes. Rusty observed her line of sight closely.
When her mouth went slack
into a heartfelt sigh like a heroine in a historical romance book, he was by
her side. "Hi."
He was so abrupt and loud
to cover the music, that Zoey had to catch her glasses, threatening to slide
off her nose. She gave him a rabbit-like look, but then cleared her throat and
regained her composure. "Your Majesty," she said.
Oh, look, a smartass. No
wonder Matthew kept her company. Birds of a feather, he would bet.
To raise the stakes, he
planted one hand on the wall over her head and leaned in. "I didn't catch your
name."
Zoey grinned at him,
looked at his arm above her, then back at him. "Bark up another tree, dude. I'm
not into royalty."
Ouch. Was that a slap in
the face? A cold shower? A kick right in the eggos?
"Everyone's into royalty," Rusty said with emphasis.
"Come on, cut to the chase.
You don't even know who I am. So you either placed a weird bet with someone, or
you're drunker than you think."
Her frankness left him
speechless. For like a second. "But I do know who you are," he drawled and
paused for effect, "Zoey."
Her eyes grew wide, just
like Matthew's, so big and shiny behind the glasses. "Did Matty tell you
something weird about me?"
"Matty?" Rusty asked,
forgetting to keep the charm turned on.
Zoey rolled her eyes.
"Your tutor. Wait, did he introduce himself to you under a different name?"
Rusty blinked. This chick
was nuts. And he was nuts for talking to her. Not quite. "You mean, Matthew,"
he said. "Does he like Matty better?"
"Why don't you ask him
yourself?" Zoey said and grinned.
Good. Straight to the
matter at hand. "Where is he?"
Zoey's smirk turned
mischievous. "Why do you want to know?"
"He's my tutor, and I
have questions," Rusty delivered in a deadpan voice.
"On Saturday night? At a
party?" Zoey gestured around.
"My thirst for knowledge
never sleeps. Take me to him. Minion." He wanted to get on her nerves a little.
Chicks were usually more tactful, not like this mini-beast.
Zoey made a face. "But I
just got here. I'm not taking you halfway across the campus only so you can
wake up Matty."
"What? He's sleeping?" Rusty
didn't know whether this Zoey chick was pulling his leg or not.
"I kid you not. How do
you think he keeps his skin like that? With sacrifices, obviously."
"I can't let this happen.
That old man will turn eighty and be full of regrets before he knows it. Where
is his room?"
"You're actually a bit
older than him, and your signs--" Zoey stopped and closed her mouth tightly.
"I'll tell you where his room is, but don't tell him you heard it from me," she
added quickly. "Be warned. The little prince turns into a demon at night."
"You mean he's not one
all the time?" Rusty asked and smiled broadly.
Zoey matched his grin
with hers. "Don't let appearances fool you. If you like cookies, he's it."
Rusty licked his lips. He
was much in the mood for some cookies, actually.
***
Matty took a deep breath.
Some college kids were at parties at that hour. Others were asleep. Some others
surely played video games.
And he was the only one
doing the most abnormal thing in the history of college kids everywhere.
However, according to extensive research on the matter, in order to get into
character, so to speak, he needed to push his boundaries, test his limits, and
walk outside... dressed as a cat boy.
He kept to the shadows,
avoiding the groups of rowdy young men and women hopping from party to party.
It was beyond strange to be out in the open, wearing that tight latex suit that
glued itself to his body like a second skin, fully equipped with a mask and cat
ears. At least people who saw him by accident would think there was a costume
party somewhere, or that they were a bit too drunk.
Also, it was a college
campus. Maybe dudes dressed as cat boys weren't the norm, but they wouldn't be
as frowned upon, either.
He shook his shoulders
trying to relax. Did people wear this kind of thing in a non-ironic way? And if
yes, how did they do it? Matty felt extremely foolish. Good thing no one paid
him any mind since he was careful to move behind the leafy hedge, being sure not
to make any noises.
How long did it count as
significant exposure for a first try? Not even Zoey knew about his crazy plans.
After arguing with him for an entire hour to convince him to attend the same
party Rusty was going to, she had decided that he was hopeless. She would have
such a laugh right now if she saw him. He just didn't have the guts to face
Rusty, not after that bold kiss... that he was still thinking of every waking
moment. Before Jonathan had come knocking, he could swear Rusty was starting to
react... but that was probably his wishful thinking and nothing else. What he
needed was to put some distance between that moment and the next time he faced
Rusty Parker. And experiment with the cat boy suit, obviously.
Hmm, he was starting to
feel a little better. Actually, the costume was pretty well made, and it granted
him excellent freedom of movement. Maybe he couldn't do an entire parkour run
dressed like this, but it didn't mean that he was hindered in any way while performing
quite taxing physical tasks.
Matty
pondered the wall in front of him. Well, since he was supposed to get inside
the mind of a feline, maybe he could try that. It was no feat for him to catch
the edge with his hands and then pull himself up. Once on the ledge, he
crouched for balance and looked around. What did you know? It felt quite liberating
and fun.
The back wall went around
a part of the campus, so, if he wanted, he could walk slowly and remain out of
sight. Emboldened by that decision, he stood straight and put his hands on his
hips.
It was kind of fun to
pretend to be a cat boy.
***
Hmm, what was a good way
to make Matthew, no, Matty, come out of his shell?
Rusty was pretty sure the guy would both hate him and be grateful for it later
if he followed the proper advice on dating and hooking up. Rusty knew himself
as the expert and he was in a generous mood tonight. After all, he had to get
back at Matty for that kiss.
The tip of his tongue
tingled at the memory. Now that had been a kiss. What business did Matty have keeping such expertise to himself? There had to
be a flaw, a faulty connection between Matty's tongue and his brain if he
didn't see what he could do and how much he could score. He'd probably be an
oral sex guru, too, if he tried. With that kinky tongue, everything was
possible.
Shock therapy it had to
be, Rusty decided. Now, where was that dorm again? He looked around, a bit
confused. Whenever he thought too long and hard about Matty's tongue and what
the dude could do with it, he tended to forget where he was going.
Establishing that he had
walked in the wrong direction, Rusty made a sharp turn to the right and then
remained glued to the spot, his mouth gone slack. There, on top of the wall
that surrounded the east side of the campus, tall in the moonlight...
Stood a cat boy. Rusty's
perfect unicorn. The cat boy was sniffing the air, most probably in search of
prey, and his latex suit showed his lithe, yet strong body. Rusty looked
around, waved quickly at a couple of people and then jumped over the green
hedge, making sure not to make a sound. If he knew one thing about cats, it was
that they were skittish. Also, it always served to approach them by placing
yourself below them if it was possible so that they felt safe.
That wasn't a problem,
seeing how the cat boy was up on the wall. The costume looked good on him, like
it was made to order, which could only mean that the dude was dedicated to the
cause. For some time, Rusty stood there and admired him. Now that was a good
body for rocking a cat boy suit.
Rusty got as close as he
believed it was safe. "Here, kitty, kitty," he called in a gentle voice.
That startled the cat boy
enough to make him lose his balance. Rusty shrugged and threw open his arms,
ready to catch him if need be. But the cat boy wavered and swung his body a
couple of times back and forth, only to find his footing and regain his
bearings. Perfect feline moves.
Then, he grabbed his
tail, wrapping it around his arm, and started running along the wall.
"Hey," Rusty called for
him and began running, too. "Hey, come back. I have treats!"
The cat boy didn't seem in
any mood to listen. Rusty stopped and hiked himself up onto the wall. He
staggered for a moment. Damn that strange drink. At one point, the wall stopped
and then he'd have the cat boy properly cornered. He'd probably hiss and try to
scratch, but those were nothing compared to Rusty's desire to pet him.
At the mention of treats,
the cat boy only started to run faster. Now, what kind of cat didn't like
treats? Well, one couldn't catch a feline with the same means intended for a
canine. A dog boy would have been in Rusty's lap by now. "All right, I lied and
you know it! I don't have any treats."
He was balancing himself
on the wall, but it wasn't easy to catch up with the quick cat boy who seemed
to fly along the top of the wall, that fast he moved. At one point, he risked a
look to one side, and he was about to fall. He couldn't have that. Maybe he
shouldn't have drunk that weird booze Kane's teammate had handed to him.
"Stop chasing me!" the
cat boy whined at him.
He had a strange, pitchy
voice, and for a moment, Rusty felt tempted to stop. His ideal cat boy needed a
voice like silk and velvet combined. Eh, he wasn't about to look a gift horse
in the mouth, or a cat boy in the way he talked. Maybe he could be trained.
The wall ended, as Rusty
predicted, and the cat boy stopped. "Gotcha!" He rushed to grab the cat boy
from behind, but right then, the dude made a leap of faith, landing, quite
effortlessly, in a nearby tree. Rusty braced himself to avoid falling and
jumped to the ground. From the tree, the cat boy was staring at him, or at
least, that was what he guessed from his body language in the dark.
"I want us to be
friends," Rusty explained. "Get down and I will pet you."
"Go away," the cat boy
replied in the same annoying pitchy voice. "I hate being petted."
"All right, I'll do as
you say. Can I at least touch your tail?"
The cat boy huffed and
found his way up to another branch. From there, he gained momentum and jumped
onto the low roof of one of the buildings, but it was too high for Rusty. Ah,
damn, he was losing him. "Hey," he called again.
But the cat boy was
already gone from view, much nimbler than Rusty.
The disappointments he
had to live with in life. Rusty pondered for a moment. Well, if the cat boy was
that adept at finding shortcuts to evade him, it could only mean one thing.
The cat boy had to be a
student here at Sunny Hill.
Now, what was he about to
do before having all his attention hijacked by the cat boy? Ah, right, he was
on his way to pester Matty to wake up and get his ass to the party. Funny how
the mind worked. Since yesterday, this little chase had been the only reprieve
from thinking about the annoying and obnoxious, the tongue-feeder kisser
Matthew Han. It only took a cat boy in flesh and blood.
***
Matty closed the door
behind him and pressed his back against it. No one had seen him walking inside,
and he had had the inspiration of leaving some unsuspicious clothes in a bush
behind the dorm so that he could change and walk back inside the building
without making people think that he was out of his mind.
He folded the cat boy
suit and turned it into a bundle, which he threw into the bottom of his closet.
The hell had he been thinking? So early into his mission, and he had been about
to blow his cover.
He was sweaty all over
and his heart wouldn't stop beating fast. Rusty had almost caught him. What the
hell was he doing there instead of rocking some party? Good thing Matty was so
good at climbing. But that had been a close call, and one he hadn't been ready
for. He focused on his breathing and ran his hands through his hair. Damn, he
had forgotten about the ears, but good thing that he hadn't put on the wig, as
well. He began untangling the cat ear band from his hair when a loud knock on
the door made him freeze. What on earth? Was there some sort of emergency?
For a moment, he didn't
move. If someone from his floor was trying to prank him, they would go away
soon if he just ignored the knocking.
The someone in question
insisted, the knocking more and more persistent.
"Who is it?" Matty asked
sharply. "Zoey, if it's you--"
"I'm your student,
bearing questions," someone whose voice he knew well now replied from behind
the door.
He hadn't frozen in place
before; no, this was the moment for him to freeze in place. That was Rusty.
Beyond any shadow of a doubt, Rusty Parker, the king of Sunny Hill and of
Matty's most private dreams, was threatening to knock the door down. Just after
he had just chased Matty up on a wall, like ten minutes ago.
"Can't they wait?" Matty
asked, his heart beating fast again. "You can just message me with whatever you
don't understand."
"I can't wait," Rusty
insisted and knocked again, with increased ferocity.
"Would you cut that out?
People might be sleeping at this hour on this floor."
"Nope, you're the only
one. Nerd."
It was so strange to talk
to Rusty through the door. "If I answer your questions, will you go away?"
"Let me in, and we'll
see."
Matty pondered. Well, the
cat suit was safe at the bottom of the closet. He put his hand on the handle
and pushed the other through his hair. He stopped as he felt the cat ear band.
Fuck. Rusty pushed against the door. Matty pulled off
the band, ripping some hairs out of his head, and threw it under the bed with
dexterity he had no idea he possessed.
Rusty was inside that
very moment. Matty stared at him. Act
normal, act normal, act normal.
Rusty sniffed the air.
Then he looked at Matty. Then he looked around the room. "Were you jerking
off?"
"What?" Matty asked,
nonplussed, and watched Rusty walk into his dorm room, stopping by his bed.
A book, opened in the
middle, was resting face down on the coverlet. Rusty picked it and began
leafing through it. Matty continued to watch, like at an accident of some sort from
which he couldn't look away.
Rusty made a face and
looked at him as if he was growing horns out of his head. Matty put his hands
to his hair, alarmed. Phew, he really had gotten rid of the cat ears in the
nick of time. That would have been a disaster.
"Dude, are you beating
your meat to alien wizard zombies?"
Matty groaned and grabbed
the book from Rusty's hand. "I wasn't," he said.
"Then why the fuck are
you so sweaty and breathing like you've just run a marathon?"
Matty pressed the book to
his chest like a small shield. Could it be that Rusty already knew that he had
been the cat boy from earlier? Was he here to make fun of him? That would be
bad. He wouldn't survive. So, he sighed. "Yeah, you got me, I was masturbating
to tales of the ancient kingdom of Lo'ar. It was just
getting good, with the half-zombies assaulting the palace of queen Kamara." If
he went down, at least he would go down swinging.
Rusty examined him with
what seemed like genuine interest. Then, he shrugged. "Eh, whatever floats your
boat, man. But, for the record, you're one sick fuck. In a good way."
Matty sighed in relief.
Rusty would be teasing him already over the cat boy incident if he knew
anything. "What are your questions?"
"What questions?" Rusty
asked while continuing to inspect Matty's small room. "You don't have a
cellmate?"
"Cellmate?"
"Yeah, I'm sure there are
prison cells bigger than your room," Rusty pointed out.
"My roommate has other
arrangements, most of the time."
"Like what?"
Rusty's curiosity made no
sense. Could it be that he was playing with Matty, wanting to make him sweat
first? "I have no idea. He's seeing an older woman or something," Matty said as
he came up with something ludicrous only so that he could throw Rusty off his scent.
Silently, he addressed his apologies to John, his roommate. The guy had a
sister and the sister had a boyfriend with a small apartment for rent. He
didn't charge John anything, and John could study in peace there all he wanted.
"A milf,"
Rusty concluded. "Now that's a player," he said, pointing a finger at Matty.
"Unlike someone else who's living here."
Matty scoffed. "Rusty,
you woke me up because you wanted to ask me something. Come on, say what it is,
and beat it."
Rusty gasped and pressed
a hand to his chest. "So damn cold. You know, not even chicks who are heavily
into the brooding type would fall for that. And I didn't wake you up. You were
choking the chicken while reading about an army of zombie wankers doing the
unspeakable to the queen's four-poster bed. I bet they're jerking off all over
her iron and leather throne. She's some kind of dominatrix, isn't she? And
they're all into punishment. Tell me I'm right."
"Whatever," Matty said in
what he hoped sounded like a vexed enough voice.
Rusty plopped himself
down on Matty's bed, bouncing a few times, as if he wanted to check the spring
resistance. That wasn't exactly how Matty had pictured having Rusty in his bed,
but beggars couldn't be choosers.
"There's a party
somewhere, and you're here," Matty pointed out. "Please, tell me there's a good
reason why you're not there instead."
Rusty yawned and
stretched. "Dude, your bed is so soft. It's like a chick's." He began to feel
the pillow case. "Silk?"
Matty narrowed his eyes.
"What did you have to drink tonight? Or... oh, fuck, what are you on?"
Rusty decided that the
pillow case was much to his liking because he grabbed it and rubbed his face
against it. Then, with a sly grin, he stared at Matty. "I'm not high,
four-eyes." He threw the pillow back to its place, but instead of getting up,
he just stretched out on the bed and kicked off his sneakers. "I'm tired,
though. And a bit drunk."
"Do you really want me to
believe such a thing?" Matty crossed his arms. "Rusty Parker always leaves the
party last. Any party."
"A guy gave me something
weird to drink. And I had to chase down a cat. I almost touched his tail."
Matty tensed. Any moment
now, Rusty would jump to his feet, point a finger at him, and laugh. He waited,
but nothing happened.
Then, Rusty looked at
him, only one eye open. "How about you read to me about those zombie wankers?"
"Are you sure? Do you
mind if I jerk off while I'm doing that?"
Rusty moved closer to the
wall and patted the place by his side. "Not really. I'm actually quite curious
about your pecker. Is it a reason for you to have an inferiority complex?"
"Is this your nice way of
asking me if I have a small dick?"
"Yeah," Rusty admitted
without one shadow of remorse.
"For the record, it's
completely normal," Matty said.
"Define normal."
"What do you mean? Normal
like in average."
"You're a guy jerking off
to alien zombie porn. Normal might have a completely different meaning for
you."
Matty groaned. "I wasn't
jerking off. The reason I was sweaty and all is because the damn book gave me a
nightmare and I woke up like that."
Rusty threw him a
sympathetic, yet very clearly fake, look. "I believe you, man. Now, come and
read to me from your kinky book. I'm just going to rest for like five minutes.
No, don't sit over there. This is your bed."
"Which you took over
without asking."
Rusty grinned and his
eyes narrowed. "Can I please sleep in your bed, Matty?"
"Okay," Matty said with a
sigh. "Hey, when did I say you could call me Matty?"
"That's what your friends
call you, right?"
"Are we friends?"
"We are if you read me
some cool BDSM bedtime story and let me sleep for like half an hour. It's hard
work chasing cats."
So, Rusty didn't use the
term cat boy, and Matty wasn't about to bring it up. He plopped himself down
next to Rusty, trying hard not to touch him, a difficult thing to achieve in
his very narrow bed.
Rusty pulled him closer
and rested his head against Matty's flank.
"This is uncomfortable,
you know," Matty complained and squirmed.
"Do you have a problem
with people touching you? Okay, I'm moving my hand, but I still want to rest my
head on your belly. Consider it exposure therapy."
Matty was damn sure he
had had enough of that for one night, but Rusty had already put his head on top
of his belly. He held the book tightly. From where he sat, he could so easily
imagine Rusty going down on him.
"I knew you were getting
a hard-on for those zombie wizards," Rusty commented. "Dude, I don't think your
dick is normal."
Matty cursed his decision
to change out of his cat boy suit into sweatpants. Sure thing, Rusty had a
front row seat to his growing hard-on that had to be quite visible through the
soft fabric. The zombie wizards weren't to blame for that, but he wouldn't make
the mistake of contradicting Rusty.
"Wait, what do you mean
it's not normal?"
Rusty tipped his head
back until they could look at each other. The conceited ass grinned. "It's more
than average. I think it's pretty big."
"If you're using my belly
as a pillow just so that you could stare at my boner, be my guest," Matty said,
picking up the glove.
"I would, but I'm too
sleepy. Just wake me up in half an hour. Then, I'll let you jerk off to your
weird-ass stories."
"You're really serious
about this," Matty commented.
"As serious as I am about
everything. Read."
Matty had a mind to
protest, but he was already in heavenly hell, or hellish heaven. He had Rusty Parker
in his bed, his blond tousled head inches away from his dick. It was one
strange situation, but maybe that was the only thing he'd have to jerk off to
on the many lonely nights from here on out.
So, he started reading.
***
Rusty woke up with his
head as heavy as a wooden log. He blinked as he looked around. Damn, those new
cheerleaders were heavy into grit fantasy. He touched the poster on the wall
and forced himself up on his butt. That booze he had drunk was strange all
right. He had dreamed of chasing cat boys on the campus walls for like hours.
And then, of his tutor reading him BDSM bedtime stories.
Wait. His memories were
coming back to him. He turned to his right and stared at the strangest bed
partner he'd had in a long time.
Matty was sleeping
soundly, his glasses still on, his mouth slack, and his sweatshirt hiked up
enough to reveal his awesome abs. And a book was resting on his chest, rising
and falling with each of his breaths.
Right. Rusty remembered
now. He carefully took Matty's glasses, folded them and put them on the
nightstand. Then, he took the book and closed it with satisfaction. Let the
kinky demon figure out where he left off.
He moved quietly and
landed safely on the floor. This had been a weird night. And he was still
curious about one thing. Carefully, he leaned over Matty's sleeping form and,
using his pinky, he lifted the waistband of the guy's sweatpants. A little peek
wouldn't hurt anyone. Hmm. Yeah. That dick looked bigger than average, even
limp. It was also cute. Matty had another point in his favor. Chicks always dug
cute things, especially if they were big.
Just as carefully, Rusty
slipped his finger away. Well, now was a good moment to make an exit, and leave
Matty to his alien zombie porn. What was that book about, anyway? He couldn't
remember. Next time he saw Kane's mate, the one who had given him that weird
drink, he was going to have a serious talk with him.
But now, he needed to
slip out of the room without making a sound. It would have been pretty weird
for two straight dudes to wake up in the same bed. Rusty was doing everyone
involved a service by saving Matty and himself the embarrassment.
Actually, he was never
embarrassed. Rusty walked out and closed the door behind him, all the while
making no noise whatsoever.
And then, he promptly
slapped his crotch by accident with the back of his hand while trying to fix
his t-shirt.
"What are you on about
now?" he asked his dick that was shamelessly pitching a tent. "I need to do
some waiting for this morning wood to go down."
TBC