Chapter Twenty-Five -- How Many Kids Does Rusty Parker Have?
Guys and gals of Sunny Hill, did you know that while you were getting ready for your end of the week smash or pass, your beloved king was doing nothing of the kind? Or the usual, we dare to add.
The regular royal haunts miss Rusty Parker these days. And there's an explanation for it. Because the king of Sunny Hill spends his now-a-days being a doting father. We have an enigma to solve, and anyone who knows the answer is eagerly invited to step up and grab the mike. Here's the case at hand.
Sexually-accomplished Mr. Parker was spotted shopping for toys at one of the local stores. Yes, you heard us. And they weren't the crib toy type, either! No, obviously, the selection picked from thousands of products was very much intended for a much older kid than one who'd still need his or her pacifier.
Color us shocked. Does this mean that our king has sowed his wild oats more than once, while inconveniently forgetting about the basic use of a French letter? My, my, the quest to identify the heir apparent announces itself as a complicated issue. We'll be on it, and that's a promise.
Rusty munched on his lower lip, not knowing whether to laugh or get pissed at Xpress' latest account of his so-called family life. If he needed any proof that those idiots were talking out of their asses, it was right in front of him. Let them gossip all they wanted; it wasn't like anyone could make them shut their pieholes, so the best thing to do was to ignore them. Plus, all that shit kept him relevant in the weirdest of ways. What other student could brag about being a father of at least two kids? This also justified why he wasn't hooking up like he used to, another thing that Xpress had lunged at like a stray dog at a bone.
And that meant, very conveniently, that no one was looking into the budding bromance developing between him and Matty. Sure thing, there was not much romance in that bromance, but he liked that word and had always wanted to try it for himself. Too bad Maddox, during the times when he had still thought himself straight and had been Jonathan-less, had never played into the enticing traps he had laid out. He had had more success with Dex, who was as straight as they came and didn't give a shit about gossip since he knew he only had to stare at anyone yapping their mouths and make them shit their pants.
Hmm, could that mean that Maddox just didn't find him attractive as a dude? That would be a bummer, and he would have to ask. Because Maddox was now gay, and Matty was also gay, and if he, Rusty, didn't have something essential that gay dudes liked, he was in big trouble.
He put his phone back into his pocket and leaned against the car. He had a lot more pressing matters to mull over, such as impressing a ten-year-old so much that some of all that impression-ing would seep into the powers that be, with the result of Roy Parker giving his eldest a break for a change.
Matty hurried out of the dorm, but he wasn't wearing his superhero costume just yet, something that Rusty was willing to overlook since the guy could change once they reached their destination.
However, he thought as his eyes narrowed of their own accord, Matty did look like he was wearing a costume of sorts. His hair was brushed neatly, parted on one side, and those weren't his usual glasses. Also, he wore a very nerdy costume that somehow made him look very sexy in, well, a very nerdy way. The initial irritation was replaced quickly by something a lot more irresistible.
Matty was hot, while wearing the nerdiest clothes in existence, but in a fashionable way. What he also wore was a guilty apologetic expression on his cute face, and Rusty forgot why that was there.
"Rusty, I'm so, so sorry," Matty hurried to say. "Apparently, I'm sharing a room with a complete idiot. He tore through my Nightwing costume as if it had killed his dear mother. And this is all I could come up with in such short notice."
Rusty grinned and pulled Matty close, resisting the impulse to kiss him then and there with much difficulty, in broad daylight, with Xpress and its minions lurking about, or ruffle the hair that he had so neatly and probably painstakingly arranged in Superman's alter ego's fashion. "Don't tell me you woke up like this," he joked.
By how Matty shivered and looked away, he wasn't the only one having a small embarrassing moment by pitching a tent at inappropriate times. Since he was wearing his superhero costume, that would be hard to hide, pun intended. Matty, the way he looked in his costume of choice, had better means of concealment, and yet, Rusty was dying to check.
He shook his head. This particular Clark Kent wannabe was so going to be ravished later. "Wait," the info Matty had just delivered caught up with him, "that roommate of yours destroyed your Nightwing costume?"
"What I said," Matty confirmed. "Let's go and forget about idiots. And don't worry," he said, his hand already on the car door, "I gave him a shaking he won't soon forget."
Rusty grinned. Matty on a warpath? He would have to place a special request for that to happen when he had time to admire the guy at leisure and observe him from all angles.
***
He felt relieved. Rusty hadn't looked disappointed in his last-minute change of costume, but now, his handsome face had acquired a somber look as the car rolled smoothly on the interstate.
"Tell me about your siblings," he said, wanting to break the silence.
Rusty shrugged and his frown deepened. Maybe that choice of topic wasn't that inspired, after all. "They're kids. Like light years away from everything I know."
"But I think you're a lot like a kid," Matty joked.
That earned him the usual signature smirk that flashed for a moment on Rusty's lips. "I suppose I can fake it for one lousy afternoon."
What was with that self-deprecating tone? Was it really that? Or Rusty was only attending his brother's birthday party out of obligation? No one bought a bag of toys to rival Santa's just out of obligation.
"I bet your brother's going to be over the moon when he sees you. Did you let them know we're on our way?"
"Nah. Mr. Parker expects me to play nice as long as he pays for my education. A lot of good that is doing me," Rusty added under his breath.
"Have you thought about what you'd like to do after we finish college?" Matty maneuvered the conversation slightly away from the touchy topic of family.
"Not really. I'm not the kind to get stuck in some corporate job, running up and down ladders while kissing ass. Not that there's anything wrong with that," Rusty said. "Just in case you want to become a little mouse in the rat race."
"A little mouse?" Matty smirked and crossed his arms, giving Rusty a confident look. "You're underestimating me."
"Yeah." Rusty laughed, and while it wasn't his full laughter that could be heard from the other end of the campus, he was getting warmer. That was enough for a win, in Matty's book. "I guess I shouldn't. What are you going to become, professionally wise, Mr. Han?"
"I'll work my way from the ground up. I'm not the kind to be that much into marketing, but product design might be my thing," Matty explained. He suspected that Rusty wasn't that interested in his post-college plans, but it was only polite to offer a reply.
Rusty gave him an encouraging smile. "You're a bit of a brainiac. Are you going to use your powers for good?"
Matty pointed at his disguise. "Doesn't my costume tell you that already?"
"Good point."
The conversation stalled again. Matty wanted to ask a million questions, but he didn't want to blunder into any touchy topics once more.
"Are you worried that I might become a bum on the streets?" Rusty asked suddenly.
"It hadn't crossed my mind."
"You don't have to worry. If nothing comes through, I'll just become a busker."
"I see. You could be an actor," Matty said. "It's clear that you can slip into any costume you want with ease."
Rusty quirked an eyebrow and then groaned for show. "Stop talking dirty, Matty boy. The only costume I want to slip in right now is yours, and it's really not the time, nor the place."
That was enough to give Matty pause. For the remainder of their trip, he chose silence, and it no longer bothered him. The thought that Rusty wanted him, even while dressed in a nerdy suit, was enough to keep him company.
***
He had been there several times, and each of those times, his only thought had been to get out as fast as he could. This house looked so well-maintained compared to the unkempt sorry state of affairs of his mom's property. Sure, if he put his mind to it, he could whip the place into shape, but after trying that twice or thrice, when he had still been a kid, he had given up. His mom just didn't care.
It was time to get this over with. He climbed out of the car and waited for Matty to do the same, before going to grab the big bag of toys from the trunk.
"Rusty, Rusty, Rusty, Rusty," someone shouted and rolled out the front door like a force of nature.
He turned and received his baby brother's blunt force right in the ribs. The little one didn't know how hard his melon was. He quickly grabbed Gabriel and threw him up in the air once. That was the kind of thing the boy used to like.
When he was five. Or seven? However, he didn't appear to protest too much as Rusty made him straddle his shoulders. Matty hurried to grab the toy bag and followed quickly.
"I am not Rusty," he announced in a thunderous voice, "I am Hawkeye!"
"You're totally Rusty," Gabriel said promptly, showing that he didn't intend to be fooled by the cosplay thing. "But who's he?"
"Don't you know? Kids these days," Rusty let out a sigh. "That's Clark Kent."
"No, he's not," Gabriel contradicted him again while swinging his legs from overwhelming excitement without realizing that he was kicking his brother in the ribs again, but from another angle.
"Yeah, you're right. This is Matty, my friend," he explained. How fast they grew up, right?
"No," Gabriel protested once more, even more vivaciously, "he's Superman!"
That was probably a ten-year-old's logic. And it meant that Matty was rocking his cosplay as he should without even trying. No wonder he was such an accomplished student.
They were at the door, and his dad was blocking the entrance. His face was unreadable as his eyes set on Rusty. "You're here. Good. Get inside."
"Dad, Rusty brought Superman with him!" Gabriel shouted.
When had been the last time he had seen Roy Parker smile like that? Rusty was tempted to say 'never', but it wasn't true. His dad opened his arms wide and took Gabriel from his brother's shoulders to get him down. "I hope Superman's going to like the cake," he said.
"Hello, Mr. Parker," Matty said politely.
"This is Matthew -- Matty, my friend," Rusty explained while Roy held Gabriel with one hand and extended his other. "He has like the second-best GPA score in the whole school." He had no idea why he was saying things like that. As if he wanted to impress his dad with another guy's accomplishments.
"Who's first?" Roy inquired, in his usual fashion, while shaking Matty's hand.
