Chapter Twenty-Six -- It's Because Of You
It appeared that it wasn't the diner Rusty was interested in, but rather the dark forest rising behind it, which provided plenty of cover at that hour. Matty didn't protest in the slightest as he was pushed with his back against a tree, and a hot mouth was on him, demanding and seductive at the same time.
Rusty Parker could be many things, indeed. But what he was, without the shadow of a doubt, didn't have anything to do with possibilities. King of Sunny Hill or not, he was the guy who had Matty's heart. That became more and more painfully clear as their relationship continued. It was as if they were navigating through muddy waters on a stormy night during moments like these, when their bodies got so close and offered a lot more honesty than their mouths could.
Not that Rusty wasn't honest, Matty thought. He alone was the guy with a hidden agenda. Even more mind-boggling was that he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty or sorry for it. The entire ruse he had worked on, playing the role of Slicky Coolplums included, had brought him here, flush against the hard bark of a tall tree, the only silent witness to whatever it was that they were doing.
Rusty had promised a ravishing. Matty could tell that his glasses stood crooked on his nose now, but his hands had been pinned above his head so he couldn't straighten them up or take them off. And stopping what was happening because of a pair of crooked glasses seemed terribly unnecessary at this point.
He fought to keep his voice down when Rusty released his mouth and moved to torturing his neck, making a meal out of each inch of his skin. How could he even think to live without this? Rusty was sucking his neck playfully, only to lick the tortured skin next. There would be a lot of hickeys the next day, but, since it was clearly a way to mark ownership, Matty couldn't give a damn.
"Fuck," Rusty muttered and pressed their foreheads together for a while. "Should I stop before we go too far?"
Was it truly an option? To stop? Matty didn't believe it so, but, at the same time, as the more practical part of his mind kicked into gear, he realized that they were hardly in the best place to go as crazy as they wanted. Case in point, Rusty couldn't ravish him as Matty wished to be ravished, and that wasn't an alternative to opt for.
Half-ravishing just wouldn't do.
"Your room?" Matty asked, while other thoughts floated to the surface, their roots like seaweed. "And maybe I can raise some of my own to your... intentions?"
Rusty laughed, low in his chest, making a sound that both tickled and excited Matty's hearing, while reverberating through him like a low-key earthquake. "What do you mean by that?"
"You'll see," Matty replied after a short moment of hesitation. He didn't want to let his intentions be known until he had brought Rusty where he wanted him, preferably close to the point of no return, when saying 'no' wouldn't be possible, simply because the usual defenses would be dropped.
Rusty couldn't know what kind of things he was thinking about. He had a dirty mind, for sure. As long as they took it as a joke, he could push forward and hope that the kinky part of Rusty, the one that wanted to experiment with everything and grab life with both hands to enjoy it to the fullest, would be onboard with everything he wanted to do.
Ravishing a superhero was on today's list, indeed, and Rusty didn't have to suspect that it was actually his ass on the line, so to speak. Matty could only wish that Rusty wouldn't find the tiniest fault with his plan.
***
There had to be something on Matty's mind since he had preferred to stop their little make out session in the woods, but Rusty was in favor of being patient for once. On their way back, he had focused on driving, impatient to get back to his room, where Matty had promised... that was unclear, what he had promised. But he could feel his excitement growing, and it wasn't only related to what was happening between his legs.
No, it carried a little more weight and went a little deeper than his usual interactions with other human beings when getting close to playing the horizontal cha-cha.
The rest of the guys were already asleep when they got home, so the only thing they had to do to avoid getting noticed was to tiptoe upstairs. Matty took the lead, being the first to walk into the room and throw himself on the bed.
Oh, fuck, Rusty thought, and his best friend since forever twitched at the sight. Matty was sprawled on the bed, looking like an aloof model, a wistful look on his face, his clothes fashionably crumpled, glasses askew. "You better come through with that plan of yours or whatever it is," he said, pointing at him, "or I won't be held responsible for what's going to happen if you keep looking at me like that."
Matty grinned and fixed his glasses, looking more like his usual self. That didn't work to make the beating of Rusty's heart slow down; on the contrary, it just reminded him why he liked this dude so much. It was that composure, the way Matty carried himself, like he was sure of things, not just someone carried to and fro by every wind and undercurrent.
So unlike himself. It had to be the contrast between them that made Matty so attractive in his eyes. It just had to, because, otherwise, Rusty didn't have an exact or logical explanation for why, of all people, he was playing buttfucking friends with him.
That gave him an idea. The proverbial light bulb flickered. "You helped me a great deal today, Matty. So, it's only fair that you make a wish." Matty opened his mouth, but Rusty hushed him. "Close your eyes first."
Matty obeyed, but his lips quirked into an amused expression. "Am I in some story with fairies?"
"Only if you consider this strapping six five footer," Rusty pointed at himself, although Matty couldn't see him, "capable of pulling off a fairy act."
"I believe you can pull off anything you want."
That was high praise. Rusty caught it, gave it a little mental kiss, and put it into the box of wonderful things, truly wonderful things, people had ever said to him. "Then, wait for me."
He disappeared into the hallway, with just one destination in mind. Was anyone going to wonder when they found his Hawkeye costume hanging in the bathroom? Eh, he couldn't be bothered with housekeeping when he had something completely different in mind.
***
Letting Rusty be in charge wasn't exactly aligned with his plans, the ones that had taken root in his brain the moment the guy had mentioned that he'd be the only one to have his ass, but Matty found himself in the impossibility of refusing whatever was offered. Not even knowing what Rusty had in mind, he believed that he could steer the night in the direction he wanted. After all, what was a man without confidence?
It was better not to go there. This was all new. What if Rusty didn't want... Matty covered his eyes. Confidence, confidence, confidence. Good things come for those who wait, but those who take action can have the upper hand. Ugh, he sucked at mental prepping, didn't he?
He had no time to reflect on his inadequacies for too long, because Rusty was back. Propping himself back on his elbows, he had to let his jaw hang low.
Because Rusty was completely naked, wearing a smile on his handsome face and nothing else.
"Did you just prance around the hallway like that?" he asked, without thinking twice.
"Jealous?" Rusty grinned. "And it's not like these dudes haven't seen worse. Also, don't you remember how Jonathan walked in on us while we were all buck naked?"
"Yeah, but this is different. You were alone."
Did he sound jealous? All right, he sounded so, so jealous. He could hear it in his voice.
Rusty's smile broadened. He walked toward the bed and climbed on it. Then, he straddled Matty and began fiddling with his tie. "What the hell is wrong with this thing?"
It was hard to focus with the king of Sunny Hill riding him like that, his skin smelling of spicy bodywash, damp hair in his eyes, and that heart-snatching smile lighting up his face. It took him a couple of seconds to realize why Rusty was fighting a losing battle with his tie.
"It's actually sewed to the shirt," he explained.
Rusty nodded as if he had just been offered a piece of vital information and proceeded to get Matty out of his suit jacket and then his shirt, all the while very careful not to disturb the glasses. They had gotten to the point where they didn't need words to communicate their thoughts to one another.
Now, he was down to his pants, underwear, socks and glasses. And Rusty was still in charge. When was a good moment to intervene and speak up about what he wanted? His train of thought was interrupted by nimble fingers moving slowly across his chest, teasing his nipples, and then going lower, making him shiver and suck in a breath. "I thought the word 'ravishing' would involve somewhat more brutal action," he squeaked.
Great, even his voice was a traitor now. How could he act like a man with confidence when he sounded like someone on a helium diet? Things, he had to admit, didn't look very good right now.
Rusty laughed, ignoring his distress. Then, he set his green beautiful eyes on him. "Sometime today, I said something. And you took that something like it was some kind of chew toy and now you're munching on it furiously."
"I'm not a dog," Matty moaned and threw one arm over his eyes. So, he had been found out, and it hadn't even been that hard.
"No, you're not," Rusty agreed. "But, you have to tell me, Mr. Kent, what exactly is your big brain getting busy with?"
Matty blushed even though his face was obscured from the other's scrutinizing eyes. "You tell me," he mumbled.
Rusty played with his nipples, as if he intended to tweak them until all was right in the world. "See, this is the thing. I was caught up in other stuff, but that doesn't mean that I didn't feel a disturbance in the Force. So, you have to tell me. What do you want, Matty?"
An honest question demanded an honest answer. He took one deep breath. "I," his voice became steadier and firmer, "want to be the one to--" a small gulp followed, "--to fuck you."
Silence followed, so deep, so stunned, that Matty didn't have the guts to remove his arm from his eyes and take a good look at the disaster he had just caused.
In the end, he didn't need to. Rusty grabbed hold of his hand and forced his arm down. Then, his face unreadable, but his eyes burning, he said, "Then how about you say it to my face?"
***
So, it had to be about that thing he had said about allowing Matty to be the single person to have his ass. At the time, the words had just flown out of his mouth, completely natural. But, of course, there was truth in wine, and also in the time when you were pissed and stressed, which could only mean that he hadn't said it simply by accident.
Sure, it was a good way to tease Matty to high heaven. It served as a little spice in their already spicy relationship, but he was the kind to reach for the hot sauce, regardless. Now, with great anticipation, he let the ball drop in Matty's court, waiting, unlike other times in his life, for the other's move.
