Chasing Rusty Parker

Chasing Rusty Parker Chapter 4

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.

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Chasing Rusty Parker is the sequel to my story Good Guys Don't Date Bad Boys that you can also find here, on Nifty.

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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