Rusty Argent

“Yes, as it should be. Is the one that works the most often, after all.” Matt shyly pulled his gaze from Rusty’s and blushed bright red. He’d gotten better over the years and he was better when he was high, but deep down, Matt was still a shy introvert. He was afraid to mess up on words that he knew very well and he often did. He was afraid to look most people in the eyes. He was still a little afraid of the dark if he was honest, but having Rusty with him helped. If there was one person in the room that wasn’t going to judge him, aside from maybe a little teasing, it was Rusty. “It is not a surprise for me. I couldn’t sleep much when I was young either. My parents tried to force me to sleep for many years but it not change anything, so they let me sleep when my body wants and do other things when I can’t.” It was one of the reasons he’d started drinking so much originally. Alcohol calmed his anxieties, but also made him sleep. By the time anybody realized how big of an issue it was, Matt had already been struggling for years.

“Hey, hey, I never said I would smack you and you like it, I just said I would smack you. Not everything in life is happy fun time, sometimes is smack your fiancé on the noodle time.” For emphasis, Matt bonked Rusty on the top of the head with the first pillow he could reach. There was almost no force behind the blow, it was merely to prove a point. For which Matt grinned brilliantly to himself. He had no idea if he had proved that point, but it didn’t really matter, he was happy with himself regardless. “I’m not sure Pax even knows what Pax thinks half the time. That is one small person full of so many thoughts and those thoughts go,” Matt shrugged, “This why he have a therapist and not a boyfriend.” Not that Matt believed Pax didn’t deserve somebody to love him, he just also had a lot to work through. “Ah, yes, we would both be dead. Overdose and drank myself to death. If we honest.”

“Hm, it better stay that way.” Rusty teased, feeling very content hearing Matt talk about how often he thought of him, how much space he took up inside his brain. Maybe not in so many words, but it was more than enough. “I guess I do have your insomnia to thank for some of the treats I wake up to.” He admitted, though he would give up any number of baked goods in return for his fiancé’s wellbeing. “And some of the best sex happens at 3 am.” He added, referring to the many occasions he had woken up to Matt baking in the kitchen, and chosen to intentionally distract him. Laughing quietly when he was gently knocked on the head, he reached up to rub at the point of impact, grabbing for the pillow with his other hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. I wasn’t kink shaming.” 

“I don’t have to eat so much of it when it’s all I’m thinking about most of the days! I have one braincell for baking, one braincell for Rusty, and one braincell that sometimes reminds me to go to sleep, but most of the time that one is on vacation.” Matt’s insomnia had gotten better a time went on, but there were still some five and six am days when Rusty would wander out to go to the bathroom and Matt would be frantically baking. If there was nothing actually in the oven, Matt would wander back to bed with Rusty and lay there - whether he slept or not - and if there wasn’t, he would do his best to shoo the other to bed. Rusty didn’t always listen. “Good, I like you with a little bit for grabbing. You keep complaining, but I am very proud of myself for this. Do you know how many cakes this has taken? It was time and labor out of love, so you complain, I be smacking you.” He wouldn’t, Matt was a wuss and they both knew it.

“I’m not sure me and Pax are great references for how people think about you,” Matt teased, “I think very highly and I am sure to be telling you this all the days and Pax…” he trailed off because assuming to understand anything Paxton said or did was a mild waste of time. If he were honest, the twin he wasn’t marrying often shocked him more than the twin he was. That could be because of the tendency to wear fake boobs, Matt wasn’t sure. “Yes, you better, because you are about to be stuck with me and I don’t take not caring very lightly.” Deep down, Matt had mild abandonment issues, and the pair had lived to see them pop up a few times now. If something were to happen now, it would be significantly worse. “Good, I am glad you do, but don’t worry, I see your belief in the way you act to me, even if you not say it.”

“The braincell for Rusty is my favourite braincell.” Rusty teased, holding Matt’s gaze as he continued to smile at him. His expression was one of open, unguarded affection. He could still remember a time they were afraid to let each other in, to be vulnerable. Now, he couldn’t imagine their relationship any other way. Without Matt there to read him, to understand him, to look at him and just know immediately what might be wrong, he would be lost. He wasn’t afraid to admit that. “I know it is, Matt.” He said quietly, as always feeling guilty for his own insomnia fading steadily away as he got clean, and healthy, and less reliant on his addictions. Once upon a time they had both struggled, but maybe it was easier for his fiancé this way. At least he wasn’t being woken up by their out of sync body clocks. He could sleep when he could sleep without fear of being interrupted. 

For a moment, Matt wasn’t sure where Rusty was going with this or why he looked so utterly shocked. He didn’t think he’d said anything confusing or weird, but there had been more than one instance of him saying what he thought made sense only to be met by laughter. Or Rusty staring so blankly at him that Matt almost questioned if the boy had died of a heart attack and hadn’t fallen over yet. It was more or less a staple of their relationship at this point.

“I really?” There were many times Matt had tried to guess what Rusty was saying before it came out of his mouth, but after being wrong more than half the time, he was trying to learn not to guess. In this case, it turned out better that he didn’t. Matt still wasn’t fully following Rusty’s train of thought, but he had received a kiss on the nose, and that didn’t happen when he said something wrong. “Uhm, I don’t think is bad idea, if this is what you mean? Otherwise, I’m not sure I understand what I don’t do. You know my brain is small and full of cake batter.” Still, Matt wrapped his arms tighter around Rusty’s waist when they kissed. He craved having his fiancé close to him most of the time. “Oh, my love, it would never be fair of me to think that of you. I’ve seen how hard you work for this, and I know how hard it is. Expecting you to fail would have lead you to fail, because how are you supposed to believe you can do things if everybody in the world tells you that you cannot? It only makes things so much more difficult for no reason. You have not given me any reason to stop believing in you.”

“Yes, really.” Rusty laughed, waiting for Matt to catch up with the shift in the conversation. Hearing him say the words out loud, hearing Matt tell him he didn’t think his request was some terrible, dangerous thing, had his heart skipping a beat inside his chest. It was all he ever needed, to know the person he trusted most in the world trusted him back. “Matt, how can your brain be full of batter if you never eat what you bake?” He asked pointedly, reaching up to pinch one of his own cheeks. Once upon a time his face had been gaunt, his cheekbones prominent. He certainly wouldn’t have been able to find any fat to draw attention to. “This is your fault.” He teased, though he knew the weight was healthy. “If you ate your creations maybe I wouldn’t have to.” Smiling at the feeling of his fiancé’s arms slipping around his waist, he allowed himself to be pulled closer. 

“I insist.” Matt briefly debated if he insisted because the word didn’t immediately register with him as something that he recognized, but it felt like the correct thing to say. If not, he would deal with that issue when he got to it. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be a real issue if Rusty continue to gently touch his face was any indication. “You better.” Matt grabbed his fiancé’s left hand and brushed his thumb over the boy’s knuckles. He didn’t bother touching the ring or further pointing it out, but it was rather obvious that it was what his gaze had settled on. The details of their wedding were still slim and as the days passed, Matt debated with himself if they even needed a real wedding. Not for money purposes, that would never be a problem, but because he didn’t care about the formalities anymore, he just wanted Rusty. He craved that final piece falling into place.

“Hmm,” Matt finally looked up, recalling that their was a deeper purpose to their conversation than his occasionally mangled English and growing impatience with their relationship status. Which would have made him cackle two years ago. Wow, two years ago, almost to the day. He would love to go back and smack that version of himself, but he knew if they were any different then, it wouldn’t have worked. All the pain they’d been through together had been oddly necessary to get this far. “Yesss, this is something I do.” He’d hadn’t tried to hide per se, though he often did so when Rusty wasn’t home, or he was at the bakery by himself. Just in case. Matt didn’t want to come off like he was shoving things in Rusty’s face. “Of course, you could. We will only know if it’s bad when we try. If it seems like you can’t function without being high, we can reevaluate, but I don’t think is terrible idea. Especially if we more only do it together.”

Rusty smiled to himself as he watched Matt admire the ring on his finger. It wasn’t lost on him just how difficult this journey had been for them both, but it really was a beacon of light. A permanent reminder of how far they had come. It meant more to him than he would ever be able to say. But he also knew he didn’t need to say it. He had found the one person in the entire world who could understand him, who could look and him and just know. 

“Mmmm, maybe.” Matt knew better than to try and argue with Rusty about this because they weren’t exactly arguing the same point and they’d never agree about it anyway. They’d already had this discussion on more than one occasion. For now, he was also too busy focusing on the feet that he was very sure Rusty was going to teasingly shove in his face at any moment. Not that Matt actually thought his future husband would do that, because that sounded like a good way to no longer be his future husband. “I know what I’m saying, even if you think not.” He grinned at the kiss regardless, and tried his best not to push it any further than that. This wasn’t the time, even if his brain liked to think it was. “Yes, yes I am, but I am your idiot and you are stuck with me, and you must deal with it, ja?” Matt tried to keep his eye on Rusty’s, but despite their relationship, it was still difficult for him. He managed for a moment and then looked away only briefly before trying again. “I know you do, and I love you very much more, but you had a different question?”

“If you insist.” Rusty teased. His smile only growing at the look on his boyfriend’s face, he couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward and capture his lips. The kiss was incredibly brief, but it still managed to warm his heart. “Ja.” He laughed, reaching up to run his fingers through Matt’s hair, brushing it away from his forehead. “I am more than happy to deal with it.” He said, leaving no room to argue. He had never been more sure of anything. Glancing down at the magazine that had fallen to the couch beside him, he caught a glimpse of a wedding bouquet. Every day their life was becoming more and more real. More grounded and certain than he knew even Matt had ever thought it could be. A quiet sigh escaping him as he was reminded of his initial question, he chewed on his bottom lip, waiting for his fiancé to look back up at him. 

“Well yes, okay, maybe you are liking more versions of Matt than just this one, but there are some of them that aren’t so good.” He could list at least five versions of himself that he didn’t like, so he couldn’t imagine any way that Rusty liked them. Drunk Matt was at the top of that list, but he was almost certain Rusty would argue something about how that was the version of Matt that he fell in love with, or some cute bullshit that would make him blush. It still didn’t seem worth the discussion. “Nee, nee, it isn’t a matter of not knowing how to say it, it’s about saying it in general,” he chuckled awkwardly and watched as Rusty sat up, “No what?” A slight pang of panic rang through Matt’s system and he immediately reached out to put his arms around his lover. If he could keep Rusty from scooting too far away, maybe he could fix whatever the issue was. Though it became clear that it wasn’t all that much of an issue. “Hey, hey, hey, we all have our limits,” he tried to tug at Rusty to pull him back to his lap, “Is not that I don’t want you to…is that I am preferring socks on the feetsies. Your feets prefer too because they warm. Like with the blanket! Warm, warm, yes?” It sounded ridiculous and Matt knew it did, but he had never really liked feet. It was just a thing, he didn’t know why, and it had only gotten worse after certain experiences.

“I like every version.” Rusty stated again, as though he could convince Matt he was telling the truth just by repeating his words. If only it were that simple. So many of their arguments could have been avoided. He knew what his boyfriend was thinking, that he was travelling back to who he used to be, the person he loathed, the person he had worked so hard to leave in the past. He could certainly understand that sense of disappointment, there were things he had done too that he often found himself wishing he could forget. But they had both been such different people when they first met, they fell in love regardless, and stayed in love by growing together. That was okay, who they used to be was okay. “Hm, sure.” He brushed off the assurance with a grin, laughing in surprise when Matt’s arms were suddenly around him. “Matt-” He said breathlessly, pulling back slightly so that he could reach up and cup his face. “I’m fine, I’m just- god, you’re an idiot.” He muttered finally, kissing his nose and each cheek before looking at him again, forcing him to hold his gaze. “You’re so fucking weird, but I love you so much for it. You know that, right?” 

There was a genuine moment that Matt debated if he could get away with setting a pillow on top of Rusty’s legs and not get questioned about it. He didn’t think he could, but the urge was there. Not that this was the first time they had sat like this, but usually, he could do something while Rusty was distracted, and that clearly wasn’t working today. “Well, I can work on that for you, but I think you like he other Matt less, you should be happy you get stuck with this one.” He tried to hide what he was doing in the brief moment before Rusty called him out, but it was too late. Matt looked from the blankets to Rusty, and shrugged. “Your feets,” he patted them, “Look very cold…very footses? Nice for you foot, but not….nice for me foot?” It sounded like gibberish even to Matt, who was more than prone to not realizing his mistakes. “I like you, and I like your feets attached to you, but I’m not liking the feets. Icky.”

Rusty laughed, shooting Matt a sceptical look. “I like all versions of Matt.” He insisted. “But I am very happy I got stuck with this one, I like this one the best.” He raised his eyebrows further as his fiancé began to ramble. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure Matt knew what he wanted to say, but he was always willing to humour him. It was part of exactly why he liked this Matt the best, and he was more than willing to admit it. “Als je het me in het Nederlands wilt vertellen, is dat oké... I think? I mean, if you want to.” He tried, second guessing himself the moment the Dutch left his mouth. He picked up languages easily but speaking them was always more difficult than understanding them. Matt seemed to find the words he was looking for, though, and all thoughts of Dutch left his mind. He couldn’t help but stare in disbelief. “No way. No, no, no, no, no...” He laughed, shaking his head. “Wait a second. Okay, okay, I need clarification.” He sat upright, withdrawing from Matt so that he could be at his eye level. “Are you telling me Matt De Vries, the Matt De Vries, doesn’t like feet? You’ve let strangers spit in your mouth- your list of kinks is longer than the menu at your bakery, and you don’t want your boyfriend to put his feet in your lap?”

Matt often had to be convinced to take a day or two off, and it was both because he was an overachiever, but he adored his job and was doing it not only for the money, but the love of it. It still resulted in him overworking sometimes, and breaking down as a result, which wasn’t fair to Rusty. They had - as a couple - learned had to combat that for the most part, and today was a good attempt at preventing him from losing his mind. If it happened now, it wasn’t because of work, it was because he had more issues than the magazine Rusty was currently flipping through. One which Matt was vaguely staring at over his fiancé’s shoulder, though he was more focused on discreetly covering Rusty’s legs, and feet, with a blanket. All while trying not to be weird about it. “This is my name,” he picked his gaze up and tilted his head, “Uhm, I think so. It depends on what you’re planning to ask, because I have two braincells on a good day, and I can’t promise to have any sort of answer.”

Watching with a bemused expression as Matt worked to rearrange his blankets, Rusty held back on asking what he was supposed to be doing. He was more than used to his fiancé being weird. For two people who were so vastly different, they really had learned to work around each other’s eccentricities. “Is it?” He deadpanned. “Sorry, I wanted the other Matt.” Grinning easily when Matt looked up to catch his eye, he shifted slightly so that he could better see him. “Well, get those two brain cells ready. You’re going to need them.” He kept his tone light-hearted, trying to hide the fact that his heart was steadily creeping to his throat. “Wait- okay, what are you doing?” He dropped his magazine so that he could give Matt his full attention, gesturing to the mass of blankets now surrounding his feet. “Seriously, I can’t concentrate with you doing that.” 

Kit was on her way home when she answered a call from her brother asking her for a favor. Even though she had met Rusty once before over dinner, she still felt a little weird showing up at his meeting. She was quick to identify Rusty once she pulled over, not quite killing the engine as she stepped out of her beemer. “Hey you! I’m your ride. I know. You were expecting some odd looking fella but nope, you got me! I hope you don’t mind!” Kit still smiled as she let her arms drop at her sides theatrically, tilting her head towards her car for Rusty to join. 

Rusty wasn’t always in a very good mood after an hour of begrudgingly discussing his struggles. It was why he figured Wes was so determined to always be there. The banter between them in the car was usually sharp and sometimes a little harsh, but his friend took it with a smile. It meant a lot to him, and it was something he consistently felt grateful for. Not many people grounded themselves and stubbornly refused to budge when he petulantly pushed them away. Leaving his meeting, though, it wasn’t Wes waiting for him. It was somebody else he recognised, despite only meeting her once or twice. His expression brightening considerably, he laughed at Kit’s joke, exhaling a breath of smoke as he tapped ash from the cigarette he had sparked the moment he stepped outside. “An upgrade?” He teased. “Did Wes force you to do this? I’ve told him more than once that I’m good to walk if he can’t make it.”

Chasity was very good at approaching people at the park, whether they were strangers or not. The blonde would walk up, ask if they’d like to do a Youtube video with her, and see their response. Most of the time the Youtuber got a no, but today she was asking anyone, as she needed to assemble a group of – well she was hoping at least twenty people would take part in this video. “So, think dodgeball – but with balloons full of paint. You’d be dressed head to toe in white clothing, and we’d see how colorful you’d be by the end. What you think? Interested?”

Rusty couldn’t quite hide his amusement as he lowered his cigarette and exhaled a steady breath of smoke. It wasn’t unusual to be approached by strangers in New York City, but this had to be one of his weirder interactions. Decidedly closing his text book, no doubt creasing the pages of notes he had been taking, he grinned easily up at the woman standing before his bench. “In the nicest way possible, because my fiancé likes to tell me how much of an asshole I can be, I don’t do exercise, I don’t do paint, and I definitely don’t do cameras or large groups of people. This sounds like a hell of a project though. Are you an art student?” 

   𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 out by the Euro trip, in parts to visit her family and also work her spy job. – She barely had back to the US again, when she received the news from her superior she had to leave for Germany. She was annoyed at her own parents, in spite of her being an independent woman, she has a reputation to uphold, the name of her family. As if it wasn’t enough, even living in modernity she was told that her parents ‘sold’ her to another millionaire… Summing up, she was engaged to a stranger to save her family or sealing the deal? Her father wanted to do it in a while. She was wandering on the streets, lost in thoughts, drunk. She rarely drinks to get this wasted, on the streets, in general, she is the one to pick up her drunk friends and driving them home. Tonight is everything contrary, she bumped into somebody, holding her bottle of wine nearly empty. ❛S-sorry…  ❜