Chasing Rusty Parker – Ch. 57
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 Fifty-Seven – A
Different Kind Of Family
Rusty closed the door
quietly, throwing one last look at Matty, who was way into the world of dreams
by all signs. It was late in the evening already, which meant that his baby
dude slash cat boy wouldn't have to go back to his dorm room. Things worked out
well this way and much to his advantage. Not that he had any doubts about Matty
telling him `yes' to everything now. That thought alone filled him with
giddiness.
This wouldn't do. He had
a tough task ahead of himself, so he smacked one cheek then the other in the
hope that he would manage to wipe that grin of his face. It was no use. That
meant that he would have to call Francine while he was still smiling like an
idiot. An idiot in love, so maybe not that much of an idiot, although he would
only use that word to describe the version of himself before his first `I love
you' escaped his lips with Matty as the sole recipient.
He tiptoed downstairs because
he didn't need an audience for the conversation he wanted to have with
Francine. His besties were in their rooms, busy with studying and other things
before going to bed. In the case of Maddox and Jonathan, they were probably in
bed already doing the naughty, but Rusty didn't want to think too much about that.
More like he didn't want to think along those lines because the Mighty Thor
might nudge him in the direction of his sleeping fiancé with all sorts of
naughty intentions on his mind.
Back to the task at hand.
He sat gingerly on the sofa. People surely couldn't guess by looking at the
guy, but Matthew Han was a beast in bed. Not that he was complaining, but it
did make sitting a bit of a challenge.
Rusty took another deep
breath. Hopefully, she wasn't asleep yet. He just needed to talk to her for a
bit. During a very hard time in his life, she had been there in ways that his
own parents hadn't. Whether she liked it or not, she was part of this whole
thing. It was now high time for her to assume responsibility till the end.
Francine picked up on the
second ring. "Rusty," she said in her usual aristocratic tone which might have
come across as standoffish to most people. But this was her affectionate voice.
The lucky ones never got to hear the frosty version. "I hope you learned your
lesson."
"Of course. You're a good
teacher. The best," Rusty confirmed. "Sorry to bother you so late. I have no
idea if Jonathan told you anything, since it looks like he has a thing for
telling you stuff that's not necessarily about him--"
"Out with it," Francine
commanded in a tone that brooked no contradiction. "You must be more courageous
to get what you want, Rusty."
"Oh, well, I was hoping
to complain a little about Johnny boy and butter you up for what I'm about to
tell you, but it looks like I'm keeping you from your beauty sleep," he said
quickly. "I'm going to be meeting my future in-laws. I need every bit of help I
can get."
"What do you have in
mind?"
Well, he hadn't thought
about it in that much detail. "Give me a cowlick?" he said and winced at his
own choice.
"Really? A cowlick? How
about a kick in the seat of your pants?"
Rusty gasped for show.
"Mrs. Hamilton, your language is beyond the pale."
Francine chuckled softly.
"Be yourself, Rusty. Don't worry about details so much. Since their son loves
you, whether they do or don't is not that important. Maddox had the guts to
come knocking down our door."
"I was there, remember?"
Rusty said with phony pique. "I was brave, too."
"While someone else's
nuts were in the fire. Sure, you were brave."
Rusty snickered. "You
said `nuts'."
"Come on, Rusty, tell me
why you really called. And yes, I'm moments away from starting my beauty
sleep."
Rusty took one deep
breath and wiped his palms on his pants. "Walk me down the aisle, Francine. I
won't take `no' for an answer. You got me into this mess called love, not that
I wasn't there already, and--" He stopped to catch his breath. "Say `yes',
please."
"Did you sound this
tortured while proposing to Matthew? No wonder he felt compelled to help you
out of your misery. I'm joking, Rusty. Of course, my answer is `yes'. But are
you sure? Your father--"
"Let's say he's not
exactly sold on the idea. I don't think he'll attend the wedding, even. And my
heart is set on you, anyway."
Silence reigned at the
other end.
"Hey," he called out,
"Francine, are you still there?"
He heard her clearing her
throat. "Yes. I needed a moment."
"To... cry?"
"What nonsense. The only
way you'll ever make me cry is by singing out of tune."
Rusty grinned as he
smelled blood in the water. "I made you cry."
"Something got in my
eye," she said suavely. And then, she laughed. "Keep making me proud, Rusty.
And it will be my honor to walk this other son of mine down the aisle."
How long was his heart
going to last if things kept going like this?
"Now who's crying?"
Francine teased him from the other end. "I will have to check with Jonathan
first, however. I wouldn't want him to think that his mom is putting her other
kids before him."
"Sure, of course," Rusty mumbled,
still overcome with emotion. "I should have asked him if he'd be okay with it.
Damn, I always make such a joke out of everything that it's hard for people to
take me seriously, right?"
"I believe that people
who know you are very much aware of how you truly are. And Jonathan's father is
already bent on being the one to hand our son over to the Kingsleys.
I doubt that we would encounter any resistance on that front. Now tell me,
because Jonathan told me to ask you if I really wanted to know, did you sing
your heart out to win him back?"
"Oh, yes, you bet I did.
I woke up the whole campus with my singing. Now my cover is busted, though. But
I don't care. I have everything I need in my life right now."
"Good night, Rusty,"
Francine said with a low chuckle. "Feel free to call me anytime, but remember.
I want results and I have standards."
"I'll keep that in mind,
don't you worry. And I'll make sure to make you proud."
The
eddies of warmth rippling through his entire body took some
time to fade, long after his call to Jonathan's mom ended. So, Francine told
him to be himself and it was a good way to build self-confidence, but he wasn't
entirely convinced. At the very least, he needed new clothes.
***
Matty just couldn't keep
his mouth shut any longer. The collar of Rusty's shirt was so scrubbed and starched
that it dug into the poor guy's neck. Rusty had brushed his usually messy hair
into such an austere style that anyone getting a single look at him could tell
he was uncomfortable. Because Rusty had decided to allow him one night of
sleeping alone in his dorm room under the pretext that they had to be
well-rested before making the road trip to see Matty's
parents, he had had no chance to tell his fiancé anything about his choice in
clothes.
"Rusty," he demanded once
they were at a fair distance from Sunny Hill. "Stop being so stiff, for
heaven's sake. My parents are totally cool, I'm telling you."
A noncommittal grunt was
all he got instead of a clear reply.
"I mean," Matty continued
his assault, "look at me. I'm wearing my normal clothes."
"Well, that's because you
don't have to impress them. I do."
"Hey," Matty said, gently
this time, "I'd rather you be yourself. They will love you as you are."
"And if they don't?"
Rusty let out a short huff. He craned his neck and grimaced. He was obviously
so uncomfortable and miserable that Matty wanted to undress him to his
underwear on the spot only so that he would stop sighing like that.
"Well, if they don't, we
can always elope," Matty said promptly. "I've been a good kid all my life. I
have plenty of karma points to spend."
"You say that now, but
wait until my shine wears off. Then you'll see the error of your ways."
"You don't scare me, and
it's too late anyway." Matty waved the hand with the ring on it for Rusty to
notice. Then, he made up his mind. "Pull over."
"We're in the middle of
nowhere," Rusty pointed out.
"Which is exactly why I
want you to pull over. Come on. I'm supposed to be your lord and master, or was
that only last week?"
"Okay," Rusty agreed but
not without showing his displeasure. He waited until there was a fork and
pulled into the small side road, away from any prying eyes. "Now, what?" he
asked and turned toward Matty, his eyes anxious and expectant.
"Now this," Matty replied
and grabbed Rusty by the front of his scrubbed shirt. He placed his lips on the
soft mouth that immediately responded to his attack by opening slightly.
That was enough for him
to launch into a full-scale war against the stiff clothes and the annoyingly
proper hairstyle. He ran his fingers through Rusty's hair, making a mess in the
process, but distracting his nervous lover from it by kissing him deeply. Next,
the shirt had to get it, so he kept his lips on Rusty's, putting his all into his
ruse. Damn, those tiny pesky buttons...
The sound of something
ripping made them both stop.
"Matty!" Rusty let out an
appalled cry. "My shirt."
"Oh, shoot," Matty tried
to summon some regret he didn't feel. "I guess you'll have to wear something
else now."
"I don't have something
else," Rusty began fretting, "it's not like I packed more than what was necessary
for this trip!"
"We'll stop at some store
on the way. And no, you won't get a second horrible shirt to replace this one.
I'll choose."
"But--" Rusty started and
stopped just as abruptly when Matty put one hand up. "I wanted to look my best
for your parents."
Matty snorted and rolled
his eyes. "This isn't your best. It's your worst. Really, Rusty, I want my
parents to meet you, not some preppy version of yourself that, by the way,
doesn't even exist. What can I do to put your mind at ease?"
Rusty let out a deep sigh
and checked the state of his shirt. "It must be all in my head and everything,
but I keep having weird dreams. You know, the kind where you find yourself
naked in front of the teacher and you didn't even do your homework."
"I find it hard to believe
you've never found yourself in that sort of situation in real life." Another
look at his very miserable fiancé convinced him that this was no time for
jokes, not at the moment. "You know what? The fact that you're willing to put
yourself through so much for the sake of meeting my folks... it's really
touching. So, how about," he said and caressed Rusty's chest through the ripped
shirt, "I give you a blowjob to take the edge off?"
Rusty sucked in a breath
and moaned. "You're so chill I want to strangle you a bit, Matty."
"You don't want a
blowjob?" Matty dangled the tasty tidbit in front of his usually horny as hell
better half.
Rusty groaned and tipped
his head back. "I do want a blowjob. From you, and only from you."
"That goes without
saying," Matty said casually as if they were talking about mundane things.
Well, if by mundane people meant everyday things, blowjobs would count among
them. Only this morning, waking up alone had left him with quite the wood in
his shorts. Within days, he had gotten so used to waking up to Rusty's lips
wrapped firmly around his cock that the change hadn't been welcome at all.
"What if someone sees
us?" Rusty asked, stealing looks over his shoulder as if he was expecting an
entire army of upstanding citizens to emerge out of thin air and lecture them
on the importance of public decency.
"Where is my future
husband and what have you done with him?" Matty asked, feigning shock. "Never
in my life would I have imagined I would become the guy in charge of the
naughty stuff."
Rusty gave him a lopsided
grin. "Nah, I'm not going to relinquish that role for anything in the world.
Which means that I'm going to be the one who gives you a blowjob."
"But I offered first,"
Matty countered and placed a bold hand on Rusty's crotch. "How am I going to
help you take the edge off if I'm the one getting a blowjob?"
"Well, maybe we can work
something out. I mean, a car is not really the place for a sixty-nine, but
maybe if we bend until we become a pretzel--"
A knock on the car window
on Rusty's side made them both jump.
A nice old lady was
smiling at them, and Rusty quickly lowered the window. "Are you boys lost? It
happens all the time. People take the wrong turn here instead of continuing up
the highway. You're lucky I went out to search for Poppy. Poppy's my little
dog. I live right there," she pointed somewhere farther back.
"I'm sorry, I had no idea
we were on private property," Rusty said quickly.
The old lady waved. "This
part is not, but Poppy and his friends might not like it if you continue down
this road. You see, Poppy is a guard dog."
Matty was busy hiding his
face in his t-shirt. Rusty had a harder time trying to keep a straight face
with his shirt hanging open in the front. However, he seemed to be holding his
own quite well, and soon, he was waving the old lady goodbye and making a turn
to return the car – and themselves – back onto the highway.
He was still shaking with
laughter when he heard Rusty laughing as well. It was a good sound.
"Can you imagine that
nice old lady catching us in a pretzel position?" Rusty was still grinning as
he tried to pretend he was serious about it all. "You're bound to get us in
trouble, young man."
"Young man... Like you're
eighty or something. Grandpa Rusty," Matty teased.
Rusty breathed out gustily.
"Well, there'll be a time for that, but let's not skip steps. Also, just for
the record, Grandpa Rusty is going to be the coolest grandpa that has ever
lived. Prove me wrong."
Matty could tell his eyes
were growing so big they threatened to pop out of their sockets. "Wow, you're
really thinking ahead," he said after a while. "On the upside," he added
quickly and grinned at Rusty, "you're no longer nervous, right?"
"Yeah, your little
attempt to commit indecent exposure worked wonders," Rusty agreed. "But you
still owe me a shirt. And what's wrong with preppy Rusty? Is he too much for
you? Can't you take the heat, Matty?"
"Right. You know that's
not true. It just pained me to watch you struggle so hard when you have no
reason to fret. Like none at all. Mom and dad have been properly prepared for
your making an appearance by yours truly. Do you doubt my powers of persuasion?"
"I shouldn't." Rusty kept
his eyes on the road, but his lips were still twitching. "Let's just say that
I'm still not over the fact that I'm getting the better end of the deal out of
this. You're a steal, Matty, let's face it."
"Forget about your folks
for a second, Rusty," Matty advised. "It's you I'm marrying. And you're free to
think of yourself as not being that much of a catch, but sure as hell, you're
my catch. And I don't practice that humane catch and release thing."
"Your parents will want
to know who my parents are. I'm not going to lie."
The conversation had
turned serious, but Matty was all right with that. "I wouldn't want you to lie.
But my mom and dad taught me not to judge people without getting to know them
first. They're the kind that practice what they preach. You might be surprised,
but I'm sure they won't ask about your parents at all."
***
If this was the house
where Matty had grown up, Rusty didn't wonder for a moment that his future
husband had turned out the way he had. It was a wonderful two-bedroom unit
tucked away behind a garden full of rose bushes, and the place looked like it had
been given a lot of love. The front door opened before they had a chance to
knock, and Rusty's eyes fell on a petite woman in her late forties with an
amazing head of red hair. That was a bit of a surprise, but he didn't have a
chance to wonder at it because their host quickly took them both by their arms.
Her grip was surprisingly strong, given her pint size. From behind a pair of
glasses, another version of Matty's eyes observed him with unhidden joy.
"You boys are early! You
should have called at least half an hour in advance and given us a chance to
get ready."
"Mom, you were born ready
for the apocalypse," Matty replied, hugging her
tightly.
"And this is the famous
Rusty," she said, turning her full attention on him.
For a moment, he
hesitated, not knowing if it was all right to hug her, too, given how they had
only met two moments ago, but she took the decision out of his hands by hugging
him herself.
"Come in, come in, Kevin
is just applying exact science to roasting a chicken. So, don't make any sudden
movements. We might end up with either an undercooked or overcooked meal,
depending on the unfortunate second we choose to disturb the uncrowned chef of
the neighborhood." And then, completely out of the blue, she shouted, "Kevin!
The boys are here!"
He turned toward Matty,
to check if his mom was joking or not. His fiancé winked at him and then leaned
closer. "A couple of weirdos, I'm telling you. With all the affection in the
world, of course."
Someone poked his head
out from around the corner, where the open kitchen was located, as Rusty
noticed. Matty's dad was almost a dead ringer for his son – a thirty years
older version, the only differences being his hair being darker, and his eyes,
too. Once his entire body emerged, he looked like a college professor, save for
the apron he wore on which the words Kiss the Chef were written in bold
lettering.
"Emma, I was in the
middle of a scientific experiment. I almost got it right."
"Almost?" Matty's mom
hurried toward the oven.
Kevin flashed a big smile
at them, while his wife inspected the contents of the oven with a critical eye.
"I lied. I turned off the heat two minutes ago."
At that, Emma turned on
her heel to throw her husband a withering glare. "You should have said so."
"And miss my chance to
offer you yet another occasion to glare at my imperfect cooking technique? By
the way, in this family, she's the perfectionist. In other words, the low
hanging fruit when it comes to teasing. Welcome to the Hans, Rusty. I hope we
haven't scared you off already."
Kevin's handshake was
firm and warm.
"I'm happy to be here,"
he replied, and he truly meant it.
"Taken," Kevin read the
second word imprinted on the front of Rusty's t-shirt with a checkmark by its
side, that element of his attire having been carefully chosen by Matty from a
gas station store on their way there. "I believe I know where that's coming
from." He grinned broadly. "I'm sure Matty was the one who picked this one out
for you."
"It wasn't my first
choice," Rusty admitted. "But we encountered a little wardrobe malfunction on
the way here."
"Don't we all?" Kevin
said and waved, using both hands. "Let's get seated before Emma starts
suspecting that I'm usurping her position in the household in the most
nefarious of ways."
***
Rusty had always gotten
along with people. It came naturally to him, to lie, to pretend, to fake a good
disposition all the time so they were pleased with him and left him alone. The
people he didn't have to do that with were few, but he loved them all to
pieces. On their way here, he had worried that he might have to rely on his old
charm so he didn't make a bad impression on Matty's parents.
Just as Matty had told
him, his worries had been all in vain. The conversation flowed naturally
between them, and the food was amazing. Kevin's special brand of scientific
approach to chicken roasting was spot on. He doubted he had ever tasted anything
as tender, that is, of course, if he pretended for a moment that he had never
had any food cooked by Jonathan. That was all right. He shouldn't compare apples
to oranges, and Jonathan wasn't a fan of roast chicken anyway.
Emma and Kevin both asked
him directly about how he felt about giving up basketball for opera. They
weren't the kind to make idle conversation, but Rusty liked them very much for that.
"Singing was something
I've been wanting to do for a long time. Ever since I can remember," he added.
"Why the basketball
detour?" Kevin inquired.
"My dad liked me playing
basketball," Rusty explained. "I was good at it, too. I'm sorry, that came out wrong--"
"We know how things stand
from Matty. You were good, indeed. That is an amazing thing in itself. Most
people tend to be good at only one thing. Well, some aren't even good at one."
Emma intervened. "We
replayed that performance of yours Matty sent us hundreds of times already."
Her eyes turned shrewd. "I'm afraid you're already a celebrity as far as this
family is concerned. Everyone received it and had to watch it, down to the last
cousin and aunt. And I checked to make sure they had. Now, I've been meaning to
ask. Do you think you could sing for us?"
That was the easiest
thing he could do and yet, when he got up, he felt a short flash of
nervousness.
"You won't even know
we're here," Matty's mom promised, as if she could guess what was on his mind.
"Let's take our drinks to
the backyard. It's a beautiful evening," Kevin suggested. "And maybe Rusty
would feel better performing for the mother-in-law from hell somewhere it's
easy to make a run from."
"Dad," Matty complained.
"Stop scaring Rusty."
"He should be prepared,"
his dad continued to joke. He couldn't help smiling, but there was something
there.
Of course, Kevin had said
it already. Matty's mom was a perfectionist. That meant that he needed to give the
performance of a lifetime. After all, the quest for obtaining Matty's hand in marriage included convincing the dragon mom
her son would be in good hands once he left their home.
Starting from there, it
became easy. It was all down to what was worth fighting for. At least, that was
what people kept saying. One thing was certain, though: this time around, Rusty
knew exactly what he was fighting for.
***
Matty didn't mind being
squeezed between his mom and dad, since that was one of their many ways to tell
him they loved him. His eyes were on Rusty, however, and the way he widened his
stance in the same way he had now noticed some opera singers do before starting
to sing.
Rusty closed his eyes for
a moment and his voice boomed suddenly, making both Matty's parents jump in
their seats only to laugh at themselves right after.
He was a performance in
himself, more than just a star. He opened his arms as if to welcome the whole
audience, an imaginary audience of thousands, perhaps, while he controlled his
voice with the precision of a heartbeat. Matty couldn't help but feel
enthralled beyond words with the way Rusty performed. It wasn't only his voice
that made it so. It was his entire being, expressing the joy of singing, of
sharing such a gift with the world.
When the last notes died
down, he began clapping at the same time as his mom and dad did. And then,
there was applause coming from both their left and right, from their neighbors'
backyards.
"Mom?" he whispered.
She smiled all-knowingly.
"Let's just say that I might have let them know that if they were in luck, they
might have a chance to listen to my future son-in-law's amazing voice."
Rusty shouldn't have
doubted himself for a moment. His future in-laws were already proud of him.
Now, he was graciously accepting the applause and words of praise being thrown
his way, bowing like a true star of the stage, one who knew how to display modesty,
as well as confidence in his art.
As demands for more came
pouring in, just as courteously, he accepted them.
And that was how Rusty
Parker, soon to become Rusty Han, kept the entire neighborhood where the Hans
lived awake and happy until a little after midnight.
***
"Your parents are uber
awesome," Rusty said with stars in his eyes the moment they were alone in Matty's
old bedroom. "I mean, I totally dig them."
"And they dig you big
time. By the way, my mom's usual MO is over the top. As you might well expect,
she has already recorded your entire show. And she's going to make every last
member of our extended family watch and listen to it. According to the last
census, at least a couple of them are no longer hearing and seeing very well,
being into their nineties and all."
"She's one hell of a
supporter to have in your corner, I gotta say," Rusty
continued. "And they were cool with us sleeping together here, in your room."
"Hey, we're engaged. Of
course, they'd be fine with it. So, how do you like my family?"
"Do you even have to ask?
They're the real deal. I hope they like me, too."
"That goes without
saying. Although, I must say, you're setting quite the high bar, Rusty. My mom
might start pestering me again about not beating Jonathan's GPA."
"That's not the same
thing." Rusty scrunched up his nose. "Studying is hard. Singing isn't."
"For you, it isn't,
obviously. You really shine, have I told you that? You'll definitely be a
star."
"I hope I'm already one
in your book, my darling fiancé." Rusty grabbed him and made him spin into a
complicated pirouette with him.
Matty flashed a big grin
at him. "Do you even have to ask?"
TBC
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