Page 12

Chapter five

Rusty Really is a Care Bear

Rusty

By the time Rusty was getting ready to clock out, his foot was starting to throb. He considered backing out of the plan to go clubbing tonight, since that would mean even more standing and walking, but in the end, decided against it. It would be more hassle than it was worth.

Since he hadn’t wanted awkward questions or attention, he’d removed the gauze Gem had wrapped around his foot after he’d walked home early this morning, his clothes still damp from the night before.

He’d exchanged the soiled bandages for one larger, flat one that covered the more egregious cuts, and it had the benefit of not being easily seen unless someone was looking for it.

Fighting the urge to limp, Rusty had made it through the day without anyone the wiser of his injury—except Gem, of course, who pulled him aside while Oliver was on break and asked how his foot was feeling.

He didn’t immediately accept Rusty’s dismissive assurances, but eventually, he relented after forcing Rusty to lift his foot so he could make sure he wasn’t still bleeding.

As Rusty hooked his arms through his rucksack, Gem trilled from behind the register, “Hey, Rus, do you wanna coordinate our shirts again for tonight?”

Oliver snickered as Rusty turned and sent him the Pyclese gesture for “get fucked”—his thumb under his chin, jerking forward like he was flinging spunk out of his fur.

It made Gem shriek with laughter, and Rusty hated how much he didn’t hate the sound. Rolling his eyes, he pushed through the kitchen doors and took the sandwich Toni had made for him.

“Thanks, Toni, how very thoughtful of you to make me a sandwich,” Toni said in a terrible impersonation of Rusty’s accent, before his voice returned to normal as he continued the one-sided conversation. “Why, you’re so welcome. I am a pretty thoughtful guy.

“Get fucked, Toni. I’m too much of an asshole to say thank you,” the Elas said, once again impersonating Rusty before responding as himself, “Oh, you don’t gotta tell me. This I already know.”

“You’re kind of douchey,” Oliver said as he trailed Rusty to the back exit. “You know that, right?”

“Thank you, Ollie,” Toni said.

“It’s not a compliment,” Oliver said.

“And yet, I’m taking it as one anyway. Ain’t that amazing?” Toni said with far too much satisfaction on his smug face.

Ignoring them both, Rusty trudged into the late afternoon light, the teal sand of Purgatory burrowing underneath his bandage and making his cuts burn.

Toni had never liked Rusty, and the feelings had always been mutual.

The Elas was arrogant and obnoxious and judgmental.

He’d taken one look at Rusty and decided then and there that he wasn’t worth the shit on his boots.

And, as Oliver had succinctly pointed out, he could be a huge douchebag.

Rusty didn’t understand why Gem and Toni were even friends, let alone best friends since secondary.

Granted, he didn’t know why Gem wanted to be his friend, either.

Maybe Gem was just a bad judge of character when it came to friendships.

“So…” Oliver said as he fell into step beside Rusty.

“So?” Rusty prompted as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“You and Toni?”

“Is that a question?” Rusty asked.

Oliver ducked his head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry.”

Normally, Rusty would have agreed, but he liked the human.

Oliver was sweet, and he didn’t care that Rusty was a Pyclon or that he’d worked Flesh Street.

Granted, as a human, he didn’t truly understand the weight of either of those things, but even if he did, Rusty didn’t think Oliver would care.

He was just a good guy, even if he was so K.O. it was embarrassing.

“Toni’s a douchebag,” Rusty said, “and I’m an asshole. That about sums it up.”

With a snort, Oliver shoulder-checked him. “I don’t think that’s true of either of you, not really.”

As they approached the doors to Purgatory Station, Rusty took another bite and shrugged. “We just got off on the wrong foot and never really righted it, I guess.”

Oliver hummed but didn’t respond with words.

He opened the station door and held it open for Rusty, following him in.

It wasn’t rush hour yet, but the station was still busy.

Rusty had never liked crowds; they set his teeth on edge.

He held his sandwich closer on instinct, and even though the risk of theft was low, some habits were hard to shake.

“If you wore that shirt to the club, I think Gem would probably die of excitement,” Oliver commented as they navigated the crowd.

Rusty huffed. “Probably.”

Dropping his volume like they were sharing a secret, Oliver asked, “Do you two actually coordinate?”

“What?” Rusty demanded, and Oliver’s brown eyes danced.

“The shirts? Is it, like, a bit you two secretly do?”

“No!”

Oliver’s head quirked. “Really? Because this is the second time since I started working here that you’ve worn those shirts on the same day.”

Grunting in annoyance, Rusty tore off another bite of his sandwich. “Glym texts him.”

“No way! Glyma’s in on it?” Oliver laughed as Rusty nodded. “I mean, it doesn’t exactly surprise me, I guess. How did you find out?”

“Well, it happens way too often to be a coincidence, and I’m not stupid. I used to think Gem just carried around the tank top in his purse, and any time I wore my shirt, he’d change into his.”

Rusty side-stepped to keep from getting run over by a pair of Incubi in business suits, and Oliver reflexively placed a protective hand at Rusty’s back.

It wasn’t necessary—Rusty wasn’t a damsel in need of protecting—and it had suspicion and fondness conflicting inside his chest. He wasn’t used to people looking out for him; he’d been looking out for himself so long it was all he knew.

So when someone tried, it was hard for him to accept it without looking for a catch or an ulterior motive .

Nothing in this life was free. At least, that was the lesson he’d learned the hard way. It was only in recent years, thanks in no small part to his coworkers at the cafe, that he was questioning how true that lesson was.

Fighting the urge to jerk away from Oliver’s touch, Rusty focused instead on their conversation.

“Uh, but then I looked up something for Glyma on her phone because her hands were doughy, and I saw the text she’d sent to Gem that morning, saying he was the man.

And sure enough, he showed up to work wearing that tank top with a shit-eating grin on his face. ”

“That’s savage,” Oliver said, and Rusty shrugged.

“Makes sense, though. Glyma and I are the first ones in to work, so she’d have to be the one to give Gem warning.”

“And you never called them out?” Oliver asked as they slowed to a stop at the spot they usually parted ways—Rusty to platform L to Lust. Oliver to platform HC to Chicago.

Shoving the last bit of sandwich into his mouth, Rusty said, “Meh, it’s not worth the hassle.”

“Right. ’Cause you’re all about the path of least resistance,” Oliver said sarcastically, before his golden brows shot up. “Oh my god, you just don’t want to ruin Gem’s fun. You big ol’ softie, you.”

Rusty’s defenses started to rise, along with his hackles. “That’s not even close to being right. I don’t care about Gem’s fun.”

“If Toni pulled this shit on you, you’d never let him get away with it.”

“That’s because Toni’s a douchebag,” Rusty said flatly. “We’ve already established that.”

“Okay, fine. But you wouldn’t let anyone else get away with it either,” Oliver said with a sly smirk. “And yet, you play along because Gem likes it. ”

Blushing under his fur for reasons he couldn’t name, Rusty bared his canines. “I do not! It’s just not worth the fuss. Gem would be insufferable if—”

“You like it.” Oliver poked Rusty square in the chest. “You act like it’s the most annoying thing in the world, but secretly, you think it’s fun, same as Gem.”

“Shut your fat mouth,” Rusty growled, but the human just continued to smile infuriatingly down at him.

“You, Rusty, really are a Care Bear.”

“I could eat you,” Rusty threatened.

“And yet, you won’t,” Oliver claimed triumphantly, poking him in the chest again. “Because you care too much.”

“I hate you,” Rusty lied, and Oliver cackled as he backed toward the hallway leading to the human world platforms.

“No, you don’t,” he said with a surety that should have bothered Rusty more than it did.

Still, he couldn’t give in, not when Oliver was grinning that smugly. “I hope your train derails and you die.”

“You don’t though,” Oliver called gleefully. “See you tonight, Cheer Bear.”

“Fuck you, Ollie!” Rusty snarled, but all the human did was laugh.

The club was just as Rusty had expected: noisy, crowded, and hot.

He hung out with Oliver, sipping his tonic with kili fruit as Oliver checked his phone every few minutes for an update from Liel, the Gymnot he was boning.

Or wanted to bone? Rusty wasn’t sure if any boning had taken place yet, not that he cared.

Gem, Toni, and Willow were already on the dance floor, grinding together—

“Oh my gods, look! I’d make such a good straight guy,” Gem cried as Willow rolled her ass into the cradle of his hips.

—While Tad and Zef bounced and swayed to the music at the edge of the crowd, Zef waving their four hands through the air while the black lights made their wings glow.

Tad looked like she was having a fit or something, her webbed hands and feet jerking wildly about as the black lights glinted off her bald head, but since Rusty wasn’t exactly a dancer himself, he wasn’t going to judge.

At some point, Gem forced him and Oliver to join them in the throng, and Rusty took Willow’s hand and spun her, ivy hair flying as she laughed.

When a passing Imp tugged on Rusty’s tail, he yelped and snarled at the invasive touch, but before he had a chance to defend himself, Gem was suddenly there, baring his fangs and shoving the Imp away.