Chapter 7 - Neta / Absolute
Neta / Absolute
"Shh!"
Dylan blinked at the sound, the pencil he'd been tapping against the table frozen in his fingers. He looked for the source of the noise, finding an entire study group glaring at him from where they were clustered around a trio of computers tucked into the back of the lab.
Heat rising in his cheeks, he hunched over his psychology textbook he'd been trying — and failing miserably — to read for the last half hour.
God above, but he was BORED.
He glanced at his phone to check the time. And his ManyFanz stats. And his email. And...
Oh.
Staring up at him from his unread messages was a sulky "Me" from one 'Ashton Navarro', sent when he and Ashton had grudgingly swapped numbers to work on their Ethics in Mass Communications term project.
We should probably get started on that at some point.
He sure hadn't been sulky the other week at the party when he'd been inhaling Dylan's face with the fervor of the famished.
But Dylan supposed that was how it was when you were some rich little strawberry fool and still too deep in the closet, metaphorically and in actuality, to bother texting the guy who sucked your brains out of your dick the other night.
Whatever. Straight, questioning, or on the verge; Dylan should've known better than to get mixed up in Ashton's mess beyond their simple hookup.
He edited Ashton's name in his contacts before setting his phone down on its face so he wouldn't have to think about it anymore.
Hit it and quit it. That's all it needs to be.
No more, no less. Dylan didn't have time to waste on some idiot who couldn't get his own head out of his ass long enough to figure out what he wanted.
Not that he couldn't have some fun with it though, right? So what if that fool hadn't texted Dylan? Why was he waiting around like some princess in a tower?
U up?
And hey, who knows? Maybe he'd luck out and Ashton would be up for a little — Dylan squinted at the time — midnight bootycall...
Sadly, his phone remained silent. Dylan sighed, reluctantly turning back towards his assigned reading.
Blooop, went his phone.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
No
Oh, ho! His strawberry fool was up. And maybe willing to play?
With a grin, Dylan settled his elbows on the desk counter, fingers flying over his phone's keyboard.
No?
U sleep texting?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
I'm at a party
Cocking his head, Dylan tried to think of which one it might be.
Is it fun? Should I come over?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
No
Dylan frowned, unsure which question that was an answer to.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
It's lame
Ah, the party then. Good.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Y u txt me?
Need some new material for the spank bank
Send me a photo
His phone went silent again. Long enough Dylan was about to give up and open Rockr, try fishing in gayer waters, when —
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Im str8
Straight guys don't send dick pics?
Since when?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
don't want you anywhere near my dick
Dylan's pulse thrummed as he seized the moment.
Tell that to my tonsils
The ones you coated in your jizz when I sucked you off
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
U CANT TEXT ME THAT SHIT
Sure i can. Free speech.
Delete your chat log and history if you don't want anyone to see
Dylan thought a minute.
No one's got a nanny app on your phone, right?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
NO
ITS MINE
im not gay
Never said you were. I'm gay. You're bi
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Im not bi either
Then ur straight and you love my dick
Simple as that
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
I DONT
Alright, so he’d been jerking Ashton around a lot. But in Dylan's — admittedly limited experience — he wasn't used to guys arguing the point so strenuously. Not ones who'd kissed him like Ashton had. Maybe…
If Ashton isn't into it, maybe I really should leave him alone.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
That night was just a night
An accident
Despite knowing better, Dylan's heart clenched even as he read it.
Just a bj
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
YEAH
Between bros
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
exactly
You came with my finger inside you
Dylan waited a minute, but no response seemed forthcoming.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Why are you texting me?
I'm bored
and want someone to sext with
Better question is: why are you texting back?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Bc U texted me
Sure
But I'm stuck at work with nothing better to do
Than think of your massive cock
And how good you tasted
And how amazing you'd feel making me take every inch of you
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
I told you
Stop
u really want me to stop?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
yes
Then stop texting back
Or use your safe word
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
asshole
Is that an offer?
Because sure
send me a pic of that too
I'm game however you want to do this
Ashton's typing animation popped up, disappeared, popped up again, then… went away.
Dylan sighed, turning back to his textbook.
Bloooooooooop.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Do what?
Dylan bit his lip, then decided, what the hell, and took a chance.
Go find a bathroom, lock the door, and text me when you've got your cock in your hands
A pause, then —
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
No way
Why would I do that?
Forgotten me already?
I'm hurt
Guess you need a reminder
You can't tell me it's because you don't have the balls
I sucked on 'em
Made you moan and squirm
I know how big they are
How heavy
Like 'em to be in my palm right now
Wanna play with 'em
You gonna play with them for me?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Im str8
Yes, and…?
Someone coughed in the computer lab, and Dylan looked up. But it was nothing, and he had much more important things at hand.
Did you like having your balls in my mouth?
How'd it feel when I swallowed your cock?
What would you want me to do if I was there right now?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
I'd make you shut up
Ooo, I bet you could
How?
Would you choke me with your dick?
Or bend me over and blow my mind?
Dylan's palms were sweating, and he could feel himself getting hard at the idea of Ashton jerking off to his words.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Both
First one, then the other
Okay… it wasn't exactly the hottest sext Dylan had ever received, but hey — it was a start.
Did you like my finger in your ass?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
no
Really? The way you were moaning said otherwise
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
It just...i felt good. Doesn't mean i liked it
But it felt good?
Dylan licked his lips, his heart racing.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
yes
What did it feel like?
No response. Time for a different topic.
Are you hard now?
Still nothing.
I'm hard just thinking about you
Thinking about the other night
About your big, thick cock
About the way my lips had to stretch around you
About how heavy you were on my tongue
Dylan closed his eyes, imagining Ashton's hands wrapped around his cock.
Fuck, Ashton. I want that
Do you want that?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
I'm not gay
Dylan rolled his eyes.
Didn't ask if you were gay
i asked if you were hard
And horny
And maybe wanted to do something about it
Nothing. Dylan's stomach sank.
Then, finally.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Y
Dylan grinned.
Any lotion around?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Hold on
yes
Get some on your hand
Think about how my mouth felt on your cock
Dylan shifted, glancing around the computer lab. His cock was so hard he was burning with the need to undo his jeans and palm himself. Maybe he should have planned it better than to do this here in public.
You thinking about me, handsome?
There was a long pause, but then —
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Yeah
You want to fuck my mouth again, don't you?
Want to sink that thick cock of yours between my lips
and pound my face hard
Feel my throat clench around you
Make me swallow you down
Silence.
or maybe it’s not my mouth you want
Maybe it’s my ass
Oh, I bet you'd feel so good
More silence.
Are you still hard?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Yes
How hard?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Fuck you
I want you to
Jerk yourself
Pretend it's me
A few seconds later, his phone went off again.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
FUCK YOU
Grinning, Dylan shifted again; the tightness of his jeans was driving him mad.
That's the idea
I'm stroking myself too
Thinking about you
Your body
The taste of your mouth
All those sounds you made for me
Do you ever finger yourself when you jack off?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
No
that's gay
This guy.
Dylan sighed.
Imagine it’s me
Think about the way I opened you up the other night
Think about how good it felt with just one finger
Dylan's heart was pounding in his ears, his breath coming fast.
Did u do it?
u still there?
A few seconds passed, then
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Feels weird
Dylan grinned.
Oh, my little strawberry. You're full of surprises, aren't you?
Do you like it?
Another pause.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
No
Dylan rolled his eyes.
Then stop
Dylan waited.
Did you stop?
And waited.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Doesn't feel like when you did it
Be still my heart.
Dylan licked his lips, unexpectedly anxious if he was about to push too far, but…
But fuck it.
He typed anyway.
u want me to come over and help?
This time the silence went on so long Dylan was sure Ashton was done with him.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
No
Well.
Fuck.
Dylan groaned, dropping his phone on the IT desk and scrubbing his face with his hands.
Why'd you have to go and push him like that, idiot? You know he's —
Bloooop.
If there was a sonic boom left behind him with how fast Dylan scooped his phone back up, he didn't hear it, too busy reading Ashton's reply.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Im not alone
Dylan grinned wide enough to practically crack his face.
Oh. Right, right — the party. And Ashton lives in that stupid frat house of his.
come to my place then
Ill be off work in half an hour
More silence.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
I'm not gay
Dylan couldn't help but laugh.
still have your finger in your ass?
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
NO
Dylan rolled his eyes.
whatever
stop bitching and come over
we can suck each other's cocks
or you can fuck me
no one will know
Dylan was pretty sure he wasn't going to hear from Ashton after that, but a few minutes later his phone vibrated in his pocket.
[ Bobo Fresa ]:
Where?
Dylan grinned, then quickly typed in his address.
I can be there in 30 min
Faster, if you've got a car and come pick me up from the computer lab
No response. Not right away, nor in the final twenty minutes of his shift.
Glancing at his phone as he went, Dylan did his rounds down the rows and rows of lab computers, checking the cubicles for trash, making sure none of the headsets or cameras had been destroyed or stolen, and straightening the chairs.
Paige was running late today. Not that Dylan could grouse, really.
Not after cutting into her break last week when he and Ashton had been up on the roof hooking up.
She’d signed in barely in time for Dylan to sign out, shouting a quick “Hello!Goodbye!” as he skidded out of the door, across the lobby, and nearly twisted his ankle jumping the building’s front steps.
There was a parking lot close by with a bus stop at the end, but the bus timetables were a long-standing campus joke, and both were in the opposite direction of Dylan’s apartment. It’d probably be faster to just hoof it, but…
He glanced at his messages one final time.
Nothing.
Great, just fucking great. He'd scared the guy off after all.
Except — when he stepped outside the building housing the computer lab?
Bloooop.
Dylan told himself not to get excited. Not even when he saw the notification for [Bobo Fresa] on his lock screen…
Dylan tilted his head, trying to work it out. Ashton had sent him a link to a satellite map of the campus, with a little red pin marking the closest corner of the nearest parking lot.
When he arrived, there was Ashton leaning against the door of his car, looking every inch Dylan's silly strawberry in his polo and slacks as he waited.
"Wasn't sure if you'd gotten my text," Dylan said neutrally when he drew near.
Ashton's head jerked up from where he'd been bent over his phone, his face flushing as if he'd been caught watching something he shouldn't.
"Wasn't sure I… if I was going to come," Ashton admitted in a low voice. "But I thought — Look, I know you're always saying how busy you are and stuff, but… You got time to eat?"
"In public? Sounds suspiciously like a date, fresa," Dylan teased him, just as Ashton seemed to realize he was blocking the passenger door.
"No, I… maybe," Ashton replied as he zipped around to the driver's side faster than one of those little geckos that were everywhere here. "Is…that okay?"
Dylan hummed as he slid into the car and buckled his seatbelt. "Willing to try it if you are."
"You sure? I mean, if I'm keeping you from something, then…"
And he was. Of course he was. It felt like every minute of Dylan's damn day was taken up with classes or papers or working in the lab. Any time he had left over was spent trying to grow his cam channel, just so he could afford the rest of it.
Yet here was Ashton — nervous, eager, adorable — going out on a limb.
For him.
And just then, Dylan wanted nothing more than to join him on it.
"For you, mi fresa?" Dylan grinned, taking Ashton's hand and reveling in the hesitant smile unfolding on the other man's face; warm and fragile and oh-so-sweet, growing into all of Dylan's empty places. "Believe me, I will make the time."