***

What did he know so far about the cat boy? Rusty examined the white board in front of him and gestured artistically with the black marker right above the pristine surface. Once he had put his mind to making the board, gathering the supplies needed had been easy. Sure, he had to keep everything under wraps until he reached a conclusion, and when anyone else was in the room, he would just turn the board to face the wall.

First of all, he knew the cat boy’s name. Sure, it was only his name as a feline, and said nothing about the Sunny Hill student hidden underneath, yet it was an invaluable piece of information. Rusty wrote it down dutifully. What else did he know? Well, the cat boy was, indeed, a male. Those balls felt real, and overall, he looked male.

Next. His height. Rusty had had the time to gauge it while they had measured one another with the wire fence between them. Five foot nine or ten? That was a good enough estimate. He wrote it down, as well.

Real hair color. The wig was a stark pink color, which helped with identifying the cat boy from afar, but what lay underneath was a different thing. It had been dark enough the first time he had chased the cat boy down, but he could tell his hair color wasn’t too light, nor too dark.

Ass. Rusty nodded. A little plump, a little perky. Just right. Although he could have worn special padding underneath. That wouldn’t be too unusual.

Voice had to go to downsides. Rusty dragged a long line to separate the section. Yeah, that voice was good enough to scratch ears.

Personality. A bit timid, but brave and getting into his cat persona with definite enthusiasm. That was a plus. Not much to say about his face, as the mask rode down over his cheeks. The contacts were pretty awesome, though. Golden cat eyes. Top notch. Those had to be expensive.

Another thing had to be mentioned. Despite a bit of hissing, the cat boy hadn’t seemed easily shaken by Rusty’s risky propositions. Actually, it was as if he knew how much to allow and when to pull away to keep things interesting.

A knock on the door made him flip the board in an instant. “Come in,” he called out loudly.

Dex walked in but looked around warily as if he expected strange things or creatures to jump at him from every corner.

“Yeah?” Rusty asked, using as much insolence as he could muster. That should give Dex an idea about what to do next, which was walking out the same way he had walked in.

“A certain team misses a certain power forward at practice,” Dex cut straight to the chase.

“So…” Rusty could feel the tips of his fingers tingling. He wanted to ignore Dex and get back to his cat boy board. It was such a case of hidden identity, a mystery waiting to be solved. But in due time. Rusty had nothing against a game of cat and mouse, and he didn’t intend to be the mouse. It was more like cat versus cat. Or was he a dog, because he was so horny all the time? Not when he was thinking –

“Rusty!” Dex boomed at him to get his attention.

Rusty grimaced to express his displeasure in a non-violent way. “You don’t have to yell, you know.”

“You said ‘so’ and left me hanging for two minutes without saying a word.”

He had? All was possible. “Right. What I mean is, I don’t need the practice. I’m naturally gifted. Even the coach said so.”

“He only said it once, according to gospel. And he regretted it instantly. Why don’t you go to practice, Rusty? What secret project are you on?”

“Why do you care?”

“Don’t you at least need to train your voice or something? With that coach?” Dex had only a vague understanding of why Rusty needed a vocal coach. His first reaction had been something like ‘Rusty already knows how to sing, the way I see it.’ Rusty loved him all the more for being so pure and precious.

“Stop looking around, all suspicious like that. I didn’t hide the vocal coach under the bed,” he pointed out.

“You are hiding something.” Dex crossed his arms and watched him with half-hooded eyes. “Come on, spit it out. I’ll tell you if it’s a good idea or not.”

Rusty snorted, and, just like that, a sneeze came out. Dex watched him without hiding his amusement. Rusty managed to stop after the fourth sneeze or so.

“Some people might be talking about you. I bet it’s the coach. And the entire team,” Dex said.

With some difficulty, Rusty found a tissue and blew his nose loudly. “It’s said ‘bless you’, T-Dex. Where are your manners?”

“The same place you’re coming from,” Dex replied promptly. “If you’re not getting into that voice thing, at least go to practice. You’re going to cry later when you lose your crown.”

“I’m not going to cry,” Rusty protested. He would, a little. A little sniffle. But yeah, Dex was right, as annoying as he was. The crown came with responsibilities, one of them being an athlete, because what chick didn’t want to bag a king and a champion?

What were cat boys into? Or, at least, Slicky Coolplums? Hmm, Rusty needed a strategy in place until they met again.

“I’m already studying. Isn’t that enough?” he complained and opened his arms wide, as if too much was being asked of him.

“I’m telling you all this for your own good. I’m not going to force you or anything.” Dex put his hands up in surrender.

“Like you could force me,” Rusty said with a shrug.

That was enough of a challenge. The next moment, Dex was all over him, catching him in a deadly headlock, holding him tightly and making it impossible to fight back. Rusty knew better than to be subdued like that, so after his initial surprise, he let himself go slack and Dex eased his hold. That was enough to turn the tables and have Dex in the same position he had been in earlier.

“Okay, okay, you win,” Dex admitted, although Rusty had an inkling that he was being allowed that win.

Nonetheless, he let go of Dex. He didn’t have time to fool around with friends, when he had to design a trap to catch a cat boy. “I’ll go to practice,” Rusty said. “Just so that you get off my sexy ass.” He slapped his own bottom and brought two fingers to his mouth to blow on them.

Dex rolled his eyes. “One day, some dude might think you’re serious.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rusty asked.

“He might think you want your cherry popped,” Dex joked. “And he might catch you in a tight corner.”

Rusty grinned. “You said tight.”

“Derail the conversation all you want. It’s going to happen to you. We’re all going to have a laugh while you struggle to fend off some determined gay boy who thinks you’re into it for real.”

Rusty flexed his guns. “He’ll have to be one hell of a dude. I’m not that easy to bend over. I just wiped the floor with you like seconds ago. He’ll have to be bigger than you.”

Dex didn’t take it to heart but smirked instead. “It’s not all about size, Rusty. His strongest asset might be his power of persuasion. That, coupled with your natural curiosity might turn you into a --”

Rusty put his hand up. “Don’t say the word. Thanks for the warning. Bye, Dex. The door is over there. For the record, for the next half hour or so, you’re not welcome. I’m going to jerk off to the nastiest porn on the planet.”

“What’s that?” Dex asked, always the curious.

“Pollination in plants,” Rusty said right away.

Dex shivered and grimaced. “Nasty indeed. Okay, I go. It’s mission accomplished, anyway. You’ll go to practice.”

“Yeah, because you can’t bear the thought of not having the king as your close and dear friend. I’m doing it for you.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Dex said with a shrug. “See ya, Rusty. Make sure to play safe around thirsty gay boys.” He even dared to give him a wink on his way out.

Thirsty gay boys. Right, he had a project, beside the cat boy. So, he had Matty to turn into the coolest, most desirable gay bachelor at Sunny Hill, a cat boy to trap, textbooks to study, basketball to practice… No wonder he wasn’t getting laid! He had no free time.

No problem. He was happy for now. The getting laid part came naturally to him, anyway.

***