Chapter Forty-Three – Bats Eat Cats… Like Not Really!
Matty thought himself pretty clever about letting Rusty know that he would attend the scheduled interview, but he wasn't exactly prepared for the gift being pushed into his arms as soon as he opened the door. "What's this?" he asked, as he carefully unfolded the black thing.
It was a top with sleeves, skin-tight, by all appearances, and made of latex. And nothing else.
"Just something for you to wear while you perform your stretches," Rusty said with a smirk. "I can barely wait to see how it looks on you. Too bad I didn't bring the tail, too." He made a sour face like he couldn't believe himself capable of such an oversight.
So, it had to be all part of the strategy of turning him slowly into a cat boy, and Rusty was all for a slow version of opposite striptease. At the end of their game, Matty would end up in the situation where it would be impossible to deny that he was Slicky Coolplums if they kept at it like this. Funny thing, he didn't care about losing the game. As it's said, being part of it is the only thing that counts.
Therefore, although his breath hitched for a moment, he took off his t-shirt and put on the black top. It really looked as if it had been made for him, which meant that Rusty knew his size. That went to show how observant his crush was, and it tickled his vanity.
Rusty gave him a critical once-over and then began giving orders. "Those shorts won't do, although it's nice that I can see the shape of your dick through them. Take them off."
"Did you bring a pair of pants to match the top?" Matty asked.
"No. You will have to work out wearing only that," Rusty said with a satisfied grin.
"I'm stretching, not working out," Matty cared to make clear.
"Whatever floats your boat, man. Come on, give me some sugar."
Rusty looked so good, already stretched out on his bed, one hand suggestively placed on his crotch, while staring at him with burning eyes. People saw him as this carefree guy, who never gave a damn about anything, but Matty knew him to be intense, too. Right now, he was that and more. He only had eyes for him, and it wasn't so strange to feel the pressure of performing up to expectations.
With sure moves, to show that he wasn't intimidated in the least, he pushed down his shorts. Watching those beautiful eyes moving lazily all over him, stopping at the sight of his cock, already starting to grow under that intense stare, was totally doing it for him. Throughout his life, he had used to think of himself as quite shy, not always ready to take off his clothes in front of someone else, but it appeared that the notorious king of Sunny Hill had cured him of any traces of that. He was more than willing now to put himself on display and enjoy the unhidden admiration in Rusty's deep green eyes.
"You do your thing, Matty. Don't mind me," Rusty said in an urgent voice and bit his bottom lip suggestively.
He planned on minding him, but not in any way that would make either of them uncomfortable. Turning slowly, he didn't forget to throw a knowing smirk over his shoulder. That had the desired effect, as Rusty wiggled his eyebrows and laughed. "Look what you're doing to the Mighty Thor," he said and his cock sprang out, looking delicious and ready for battle.
"My stretching routine might take a bit," Matty warned.
"I don't mind it. I assure you – watching you is the best use of my time."
"But I thought you wanted it to be a quickie," Matty said in the most innocent manner possible.
"Quick, slow, short, long, it doesn't matter as long as I get to watch you in that awesome getup of yours."
"Which you got for me," Matty reminded him.
Rusty just hummed in appreciation. With a shrug, Matty began his routine. He had the Wednesday interview in the bag, but why risk pulling a muscle?
***
Now that was a guy who knew how to play. In his life to date, or at least the one he had led until knowing Matty, his games with his bed partners had been satisfactory, but superficial for the most part. None of the girls who ended up in his bed had been too keen on looking beneath the surface; and when they did, Rusty was quick to put distance between him and them. It was the only way he functioned.
The same could not be said about what was happening at the moment. Matty played into his kinks with a smile on his face. A cute, yet all-knowing smile. Yeah, that was the best partner for him.
He watched as Matty set himself to work for real. Wow, he really meant it about that stretching, and it was a good occasion to admire all those lean muscles, especially since his host offered him an incredible view from behind. Rusty squeezed his cock at the base hard to stop himself from shooting prematurely. Regardless of what he had said before, he was under no obligation to make it quick.
The sight of that perky bottom really did it for him. Guys shouldn't have asses like that, but he couldn't say that he held it against Matty. It was, after all, an advantage he very much enjoyed. And now, like the cheeky cockteaser he was, Matty was flexing his butt cheeks in a very alluring fashion. "Stop it or I'll come over there and start licking that thing."
"That thing? I had no idea you shied away from dirty words," Matty teased him.
"I'm going to put my tongue in your ass if you don't stop," Rusty replied promptly.
"Is that supposed to be a threat? Try harder."
Rusty flaunted the Mighty Thor. "Any harder than this and it might become a life form of its own."
Matty laughed and bent over while shaking his ass. That was it; he couldn't take it anymore. In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet, and the next second, he was kneeling behind Matty, grabbing his ass cheeks. He buried his face in that ass and licked playfully, at first. Help came right away, and soon, the thing he so much wanted to lick was exposing itself more, as its owner took it upon himself to part the two mounds of perfect flesh and offer it completely.
No brainer there. He made a meal out of it, while Matty rewarded him in an entire harmony of soft moans and surprised gasps, peppered here and there with kinky encouragements. When he got back on his feet, he was quite pleased with himself and the state in which he had brought his partner. Matty turned and grabbed him by the shoulders, only to hike himself up into his arms.
"Weren't you busy stretching?"
"I'll do it while we go at it," Matty said with a shrug.
That worked for him, too. He put Matty on the bed and climbed on top of him. It took them a little to get into position, but they were there, ready for action. He locked eyes with Matty as he began penetrating him slowly. Fuck, that was so good. However, he needed not to forget that he was supposed to help with the stretching.
Matty grunted and then giggled as Rusty spread his legs as far as humanly possible. No wonder this dude had chosen to play the cat boy. That was some really good performance if anyone asked him. Not that he would share the details of his current session with anyone. Having secrets of this kind was major fun.
"Let's see how flexible you are," he said in a teacher-like voice.
Matty snickered. "Where have I heard that before?"
"Smartass." Rusty pushed Matty's legs so that now they were brushing his ears. That was quite the sight. Plus, it allowed for really deep penetration, which he very much enjoyed. "I might fuck you into the mattress today, Matty."
"Oh yeah?" came the breathless question. "Then go for it already."
And that he did. Nothing was hard with Matty, except their cocks. He watched the pair on his cat boy bouncing in front of his eyes. Too bad he was not that flexible; he couldn't fuck and lick those balls at the same time. That would have been something. The angle, however, allowed him to watch Matty rubbing his cock while closing his eyes and letting out small huffs of pleasure.
"Here it comes," he announced in a strained voice and pulled out only so that he could make a mess out of his baby dude.
The latex top was a total winner. Rusty watched with satisfaction how his jizz flew out of his cock and landed everywhere. Matty added his, as well, and soon the latex top was a beautiful mess. He groaned theatrically as he collapsed on top of Matty, only to be rewarded with a lot of giggles. Damn, it felt good to just lie there, and not only because of the sex.
When they came unstuck after a bit, the first thing he noticed was the clear look in Matty's eyes. Those were eyes trying to tell him something. He was about to press and needle, but that very moment, Matty looked lower and then exclaimed, "O. M. F. G.! Your shirt is a mess!"
He had rubbed himself against the messy top while embracing Matty, which, of course, caused that little disaster.
"How are you going to get back to your place?"
"Do you think you can put me up for the night? I am willing to pay with my body."
"Then I think you've already paid for the week," Matty joked.
"For real? And I thought you'd take advantage and use me like a tyrant only to have your way with me." He pouted for show, and Matty shut him up with a kiss.
And then, he ruffled his hair and made him purr like a cat. "Still, should I go to your house and get you a change of clothes? What are you going to wear tomorrow in classes?"
"Sounds like a good idea." Rusty pressed his lips together to stop himself from smiling. That afforded him a great opportunity to rummage more through Matty's closet for signs of that awesome outfit.
Matty gave him a quick kiss and got to his feet.
"Don't go out like that," Rusty said with a pointed glare.
Laughter followed, naturally. "I'll take a shower and change into decent clothes, don't worry."
"And wipe that smile off your face," Rusty called out to him as Matty moved away. Then, after just a short moment of deliberation, he added, "Actually, don't. It suits you."
***
Matty felt like a burglar as he entered the house, although he had the key Rusty had given him, and everyone there knew about it. However, because the house was empty, the illicit plan he had come up with on his way there seemed all the more like the proverbial forbidden fruit. Slowly, careful of each noise he was making, he stalked up the staircase to the second floor. It really did look like no one was home.
Officially, he was there only to get a change of clothes for Rusty, but that wasn't all. Unwittingly, his partner had provided him with the perfect opportunity to inspect at length the contents of Rusty's closet. That beautiful cape had to be in there, somewhere. Also, from what he remembered, Rusty wasn't the most organized person in the world, so it might not take long to find the thing and get the final proof that the guy he was in love with loved dressing up at night – and sometimes during the day – and give the entire campus a show like they'd never seen in their lives.
As he put his hands on the door handles of the closet, he took a deep breath. There was a chance that a landslide of sex toys and whatnot would topple him over the moment he opened those doors, so he needed to exercise extra caution.
Relief washed over him as nothing like that happened. Actually, Rusty's closet was no longer the mess he remembered from those first tutoring lessons. The gifts, the sex toys, and the infinite number of seemingly useless things weren't there anymore. First he grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt to stuff into his bag. As soon as he was done with that, he took another deep breath.
Rybalt always looked impeccable, which meant that those clothes had to be kept in perfect shape in-between performances. After a bit of fiddling around and pushing clothing hangers about, he reached the end and then he saw the garment bag that was last on the rail. He took it out and placed it on the bed, and then pulled the zipper down. At first, he couldn't keep in a grin of satisfaction.
"Yes!"
Not like he'd had any doubts about it, but now he had the confirmation. The fabric of the cape felt so luxurious under his fingers. Rusty must have spent a lot on it, but it was worth every penny. Under the cape lay the suit, and a pair of black gloves peeked from the vest pocket. He was about to inspect the suit next when he heard noises on the other side of the door. His hands moved fast as he pulled the zipper up; he quickly stashed the Rybalt costume back where it belonged and closed the closet doors just as someone knocked on the door. "Rusty, are you home?"
Matty looked around for any signs of his reprehensible activities and saw none. He rushed to get the door, hoping that his face wouldn't betray him. Maddox was there and looked pleasantly surprised to see him. "Hey, Matty. Where's Rusty?"
"He's at my place. I just came to grab a change of clothes for him."
"Okay. Is he going to sleep over?"
"Yeah."
Maddox gave him a slow look and blinked a few times, making Matty squirm under that questioning gaze. "Why didn't he come himself?"
"Er, um," Matty began to stutter, "he was a bit… tired." That didn't make it sound any better than other options, such as 'incapacitated' or 'his t-shirt has cum stains'.
Maddox caught on right away and grinned. "Ah, I see. Is he playing nice with you, Matty?"
So nice. It took him a moment to realize that he must have been grinning, too, and forgot to reply. "We're good friends, yeah," he said quickly.
"Friends," Maddox repeated slowly. "Okay."
"I should be going," Matty said, a bit unnerved by the way Maddox was looking at him like he was about to say something but didn't think it a good idea or something like that. He couldn't exactly tell what was on other people's minds.
"Hey, Matty," Maddox called out to him when he was about to walk down the stairs. "Just to let you know, Rusty's worth it."
He nodded and swallowed. Maddox didn't look at him like that because he wanted to tease him or reproach him about something. That was a look that expressed a friend's care for his bestie. "Yeah. He is. He totally is."
Maddox gave him a broad smile as he waved goodbye. In a way, it felt like a blessing from Rusty's best friend. And, until that moment, Matty hadn't even realized how much he wanted that kind of thing.
***
Rybalt took in a deep breath. At night, the air was different, as artists had often wrote music and lyrics about it.
It was true, down to the last chord dying down as the stage curtain fell. While growing up, he had had no one to share such ideas with. His mom was too out of it all the time, now that he thought about it, for as long as he could remember; his dad was a practical man – he couldn't be bothered with aspects that went beyond the comprehension of the way things worked in the real world.
Real world. He snorted at that. There wasn't anything more real than what music and songs and art in general revealed to the unaware eye, or ear, or soul. If anything, such people who created things out of thin air, using nothing but the power of their imagination to make them come alive, knew of a world that bubbled and lived way under the surface, and they must feel responsible to bring it up for everyone else to see and hear and feel.
He caressed his naked hand with the gloved one and smiled. So, after all, he wasn't the only one with a propensity for snooping around. He had searched for the misplaced glove for a while, but when he found it, the dust bunnies under his bed had already done their loving work. It was too late to wash and dry it, and it also offered him the perfect chance to give his accomplice a hint that he knew about certain trespassing activities.
Although he expected Matty to be there at ten on the dot, he had come earlier only so he could take his time and slip into his Rybalt persona while taking in the kingdom lying at his feet. A few scattered students were already there, some snapping pics of him with their phones, waving at him, and calling out. He waved graciously and offered prompt replies about the evening's scheduled entertainment. First, he needed his muse, however.
"Well, well, well," a voice with a nasty hiss to it interrupted his basking in the attention of his – sparse for now – audience. "If it isn't the wannabe vampire Rybalt."
Rusty turned on his heel and eyed the intruder. He munched on his lips trying not to laugh. Not that Connor looked bad in his black suit and cape, as well as bat mask, but it was funny to consider that the guy thought he could take him on.
"Oh, I feel quite offended by your mischaracterization of my person," he replied in a haughty, aristocratic tone he had cultivated lately so that he could adapt to certain roles with ease. Mrs. May had warmly recommended him nurturing his inclination toward the art of acting as a useful skill to have in his future career. "I am," he added while making a convoluted, exaggerated bow, "the prince of cats. Also, the protector of all things raunchy and kinky and fun. You wouldn't know about them." He took a moment to examine his opponent as if he needed that to make up his mind about what he was about to say next. "You look like you've never enjoyed a moment of that in your life. Am I right, Flappy?"
"Flappy?" Connor oozed indignation through all his batty pores. "Well, let me tell you something, prince of alley cats. Bats eat cats!"
And, as soon as he said that, he lunged toward Rusty.
***
To reach the science building, Matty had to walk along the wall until he got to the arts building, climb the high tree by it and then, from there, go straight to his destination. He was about to grab the ledge and hike himself up, when someone seized him suddenly from behind, making him lose his balance. His adrenaline kicked in before any rational thought as he stumbled and rolled on the ground with his attacker still clinging on to him. As soon as they stopped, he got on top of the other person and pinned him down.
He stared in shock at a masked character, dressed in a suit that seemed quite familiar. There was no guessing required, as the black and blue colors revealed under the light coming from the street lights were enough to identify that thing for what it was. The surprise was too much for him, and it made him lose focus for a moment.
The next thing he knew, the tables were turned and he was on his back, with the mysterious attacker on top of him.
"I got you!"
What the hell? Was that John? And was he wearing the Nightwing costume he had destroyed when Matty intended to join Rusty for his brother's birthday party, both dressed as superheroes? No, that couldn't be, first, because the costume had been destroyed, and second, because he had personally returned its earthly remains to the rental shop and paid for the damages.
That could only mean that John had rented or bought a similar outfit. What a copycat. And not only that, he was an annoying copycat because, celebrating too soon, he reached for Matty's mask, trying to snatch it off his head. That move, however, only made his balance more precarious, something that Matty took quick advantage of.
John cried out as the tables turned once more, and now he was the one pinned to the ground. Matty held both of his attacker's wrists tightly. He used his squealy annoying Slicky voice. "Who are you and what do you want?"
"Let go of me," John whined. "I'm your punisher…" His voice cracked and tumbled into a real moan of distress, although Matty wasn't hurting him, just merely incapacitating him for any attack.
"Do you think it's so easy to catch a cat?" Matty hissed at him and now he did increase the pressure on the guy's wrists to make a point. Funny how his disguise had allowed him to go undetected for so long, and he had been able to see John under his Nightwing costume from the start. Getting into this cosplay thing was an art in itself, Matty considered for a moment. Not every guy in a mask could pass as the character he was trying to impersonate. And John didn't even have a wig.
He would have clucked his tongue at that, just to show his superiority in dressing up, but it was neither the time, nor the place, for such things. Rybalt was waiting for him, and he didn't want to make a bad impression by being late for his interview.
"I am going to let you go, but you must promise that you won't follow me," he said.
John nodded and sniffled, so Matty pushed him away as he released him. Then, trusting that his former roommate had learned his lesson, he turned on his heel and rushed to the wall, determined to get to the science building on time.
However, it appeared that his goodwill had been misplaced because, behind him, a roar arose and soon he was being grabbed again from behind. "Bats eat cats! Bats eat cats!"
In hindsight, he should have expected a low blow like that from John. A pure knee jerk reaction, he drew back his elbow hard and heard a gasp of pain, while the grip on his body loosened. He turned just in time to witness John falling to the ground like a rag doll.
Cold sweat materialized on his back in an instant. He quickly knelt by John's side to check on him. "John," he shouted in his normal voice, "hey, man, don't play, wake the fuck up!"
His shaking had the desired effect, eventually, because John opened his eyes and blinked at him, seemingly dizzy. "Bats eat cats," he said softly.
"Are you okay?" Matty asked, still very much worried.
John rubbed his face. "You caught me right in the chin. That hurt, Matty."
"Oh, damn," Matty whispered softly. "Come on, let me help you up. Seriously, you're such a lightweight. Don't mind me. I'm sorry. Can you stand?"
John leaned against him and it appeared that he could stand on his own feet without too much help. Still, Matty didn't want to take any chance. "We should have someone look at you."
"No, no need," John said and shook his head.
"No way. I'm not having you on my conscience."
"I'm fine, Matty." He did appear so. He even took a few steps and seemed capable of walking straight. Then, suddenly, he stopped and grabbed Matty's mask. "Ha! I got you!"
"Seriously, dude?" Matty didn't even bother to take his mask back. John held it like some sort of prize. He could keep it since that was a small price to pay for socking the poor guy in the face like that. "How are you really feeling?"
"Fine. Awesome!" John exclaimed and held Matty's mask high in the air, as a trophy. "I need to let Connor know--"
"Did Connor put you up to this?" Matty shook his head in annoyance and grabbed John's arm.
"Hey, where are you taking me?" John complained, still holding Matty's mask to his chest as if someone were about to take it away from him.
"My dorm room," Matty said with determination. His interview was compromised, but he didn't want to take any chances with John. He had never seen anyone in his life crumple to the ground like that. The guy said he was all right, but Matty was no doctor. He'd call an emergency service and ask for advice. Then, first thing in the morning, he'd take John to the health service office on campus.
"But I need to get to Connor!" John protested.
"I elbowed you in the face and you fell like a doll. No way I'm letting you roam the streets or worse, get behind a wheel. You'll listen to me, do you understand?"
"Oh, Matty," John said in a suddenly reverent tone, "you care!"
"I'm the cause of your injury, so I must."
"It's more than that," John declared. "You care about me."
Matty didn't contradict him, especially since John stopped digging his heels in and followed him of his own accord. Good. That was all he wanted.
***
"Tonight, I'm going to unmask you, pest!" Connor roared.
"Well, I have to say, catch me first!" Rusty replied as he dodged out of the way.
This was entertaining if he thought about it. However, it annoyed him because it threw a wrench into his interview of the sexiest cat boy alive. He needed to solve this Connor problem and fast so that he could see about getting back to the evening's program.
Connor wasn't in that bad shape since he managed to keep up with him while chasing him around. He had to give it to the guy. He was tenacious, but that was par for the course, seeing how he had managed to rally so many people under that shitty acronym and his high-morals waving flag.
Still, this wasn't a game he intended to lose. He enjoyed jumping around and letting Connor waste his energy. Apparently, the guy had plenty of it. Maybe being a little batty, no allusion to how he was dressed, offered an untapped source of stamina.
"When are you going to give up?" Rusty laughed while moving out of the way at the last moment.
That gave him an idea. Using the respite offered by his tireless opponent, he took off his cape and began waving it in front of Connor. "Hey, Connor, cows go moo."
Oops, he hadn't meant to use the guy's actual name, or his own normal voice.
Behind his stupid mask, Connor's face seemed to transform. Even in the low light conditions, that was obvious. "Rusty Parker! How come I'm not surprised?"
"Oh, you're also delusional," Rusty commented in his Rybalt voice, but it looked like the cat was out of the bag with this one. Well, too bad. But Connor was just one guy, and Rusty believed that he would be able to spin the tale the way he wanted, still.
"No, I'm not! I heard you, loud and clear!" Connor rushed ahead, his head low, his pointy ears like impotent horns, much to Rusty's satisfaction. He flipped the cape with the grace of a toreador and watched as his attacker stumbled and barely got his bearings back at the last moment.
"Well, we can do this all night, but, as you may well know, I have an important appointment lined up."
"Oh, really?" Connor laughed, annoying Rusty for a moment. "I don't think your furry friend will make it, Rusty Parker."
Now that made him feel a bit uneasy. "You don't say. And how do you know that?"
"You're not the only one with a sidekick," Connor replied. He straightened up. "You know what? My job here is done. I know who you are, and tomorrow, everyone will know. Tootles, Parker, say 'hi' to public shame."
Rusty would have followed after Connor, but he had his interview with Slicky to consider. Those words about the sidekick and Matty not coming had rubbed him the wrong way. There was only one way to find out what was what, without calling off the game only for the sake's of Connor's stupid crusade.
He pulled out his phone that had been put on silent for his show and fired a quick message off to Matty. If he didn't reply, it meant that he was on his way; that suit could hardly conceal a phone, and Matty would need to leave his in his dorm room.
A small twitch in his upper lip betrayed his uneasiness when his phone pinged with a return message.
Just getting ready for bed. See you tomorrow?
What the fuck? Rusty stared at the phone. Matty was the cat boy, without a doubt. And Matty, Slicky, whatever, just stood him up. What the hell had Connor's sidekick done to his baby dude? No way would Matty flip him off like that unless there was a good reason.
One option was to call off the game and ask Matty for details. But were Connor and his stupid acolyte worth that? Well, the interview would have to wait, no matter how much he disliked it.
***
Matty sighed as he set his phone aside. Rusty must have realized he wasn't coming. And he was probably disappointed, as there was no follow-up message to his question. He'd have to make it up to Rusty for that. For now, he turned his entire attention to John.
"You are so going to spill everything about what you and your leader are getting up to these days," he warned.
John fidgeted in his place. "But I might have a concussion! Because you hit me!"
"It doesn't look like it, as that emergency nurse told us on the phone. Also, I'm supervising you for the night, which means that you're not getting away. Yeah, I got you, not the other way around. So talk."
"Or else?" John put his chin up defiantly. "Are you going to hit me again?"
"It sounds quite tempting." The look on John's face was priceless. "I'm joking. But only about hitting you again. I'm very serious about finding out what you and Connor are scheming."
John seemed to consider for a moment, but then, he looked at Matty with unfocused eyes. Yeah, it looked like he hadn't taken his glasses with him on this little adventure of his. So, he was as blind as a bat. Ironic. "Okay," John admitted with a self-encouraging sigh. "I'll tell you everything."
TBC