Chapter 8 - Absolute

Absolute

The bar's light transformed the tumbler of aged bourbon into liquid garnet as Ashton held it aloft, rolling it gently so the sphere of ice clinked slowly inside.

Darker than its younger cousins, he'd spied the rare bottle tucked in the back on the top shelf; a surprise, even in a bar as upscale as this one.

Deciding it was a sign to treat himself to something special, he'd told himself it could only mean more luck would follow, but…

He set the tumbler down, still untouched. The under-lighting danced across the lip of the glass in flashes of cyans and magentas, shifting and shoving in almost the exact same shade of pink as…

Turning away, Ashton leaned his back against the bar's edge, surveying his territory instead. Or trying to. It'd been like this all night.

The flash of a smile? Dylan's.

The cut of a chin? Dylan's.

The way he'd strut in, not bothered by what anyone here thought of him.

The way he didn't need to; so confident, so competent; able to take care of himself.

Ashton grunted, trying to focus. There were dozens of gorgeous, available, respectable women here. He needed to get his act together.

Find some chick who'll take you to bed and fuck all this out of your system. Things will be back to normal by morning.

The problem was, Ashton just wasn't feeling it tonight. He was too in his own head, making him stiff and awkward.

Maybe it's this place. Maybe that bottle of bourbon meant I should make myself scarce too, try my luck somewhere else.

It was only Tuesday, so none of the houses were throwing a party. Ashton might be able to round up enough of the guys to go hit up a campus bar, but —

But it's not Logan or any of your fraternity brothers you want to hang out with, is it?

Ashton scowled, drumming his knuckles on the lacquered bar top, successfully distracting himself by making concentric ripples in his drink.

"Need that freshened up?" one of the bartenders came over to ask; his name tag reading 'Xavier', his eyes fixed on the fist Ashton was thumping against his bar.

Taking the hint, Ashton flattened his hand over the grain of the wood, shaking his head no.

As he reached for the tumbler, Ashton's phone dinged; hear the sound, check the time.

9:14 pm, and a message from…

Ashton's heart landed with a thud in his shoes.

[ Dylan ]:

U up?

He frowned at the bright rectangle of his phone screen. And while Ashton knew — he knew, okay? — that he shouldn't say anything, that he'd be better off saying nothing; even if he wanted so badly to say everything, to spill his guts about it all?

No

There. Better for both of us if I just cut him off.

Blooop, argued his phone.

[ Dylan ]:

No?

U sleep texting?

Ashton snorted.

Should I tell him? Or will Dylan think it's lame, going to a bar alone?

I'm at a party

There, that should be close enough.

Ashton hadn't meant to come out tonight by himself. When Logan said he might show, Ashton had decided he'd arrive and hope for the best. But he'd bailed — again — at the last minute. Something about Oz helping him with an essay for a final or something.

Again.

It's always Oz.

Which… might be for the best, honestly. After what Dylan had implied at the party, Ashton's attempts at befriending the felt like it could be veering into dangerous territory.

Logan's cool and all, but there's no telling if he'd still be cool if he knew I was — had, past-tense — fucked around with a guy. Might start wondering if I was looking to fuck him too.

And… Well.

Ashton would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it, now wouldn't he?

But only because Dylan put the thought in my mind!

Nerves wound tighter than a harp string, Ashton scanned the room, desperate for a distraction. But nothing in particular caught his eye. And despite his best efforts, when his phone buzzes with a new message, he checks it.

[ Dylan ]:

Is it fun? Should I come over?

Is it fun?

Honestly, Ashton had never really considered the question before. Sometimes it got him laid, that's for sure. It always got him drunk, which was far easier. Coming to bars to pick up dates was… it's just what he did, right?

Noah had his streaming, Logan had football, most of the other guys were studying or playing games or making time with their girlfriends.

But Ashton never was much into video games, he ran his miles in the morning, and what was the point of studying, really?

All he needed to do was pass and get his diploma; his future was secured whether he got an A on his history final, or a C.

And as far as girlfriends go?

That's why he was here tonight, wasn't it?

Whoever said dating was supposed to be fun?

No

It's lame

There was a stunning brunette a few seats down, toying with a glass of something dark and amber.

A bachelor party was already going full swing over in the corner, which in Ashton's experience usually meant at least one or two likely prospects.

A few other likely pairs and trios were scattered here and there throughout the club, eyes flicking this way and that in the way employed exclusively by a woman on the prowl.

One of a trio of blonds waves at him from where they are clustered around a nearby high table.

Ashton nodded back, returning to his phone.

Y u txt me?

[ Dylan ]:

Need some new material for the spank bank

Say what?

"Hey, there," the blond who'd waved said, interrupting Ashton's thoughts even further and providing a much-needed distraction.

"Hey," Ashton replied, mind still doing loop-de-loops at Dylan's message.

The phone buzzed in his hand. He frowned down at it.

Send me a photo

Ashton sucked in a breath.

He…he couldn't.

Right?

"Is that your girlfriend?" the blond asked.

Ashton huffed a laugh, the shape of it lodged heavy in his chest, wedged between his ribs.

"No," he said. "Just a classmate. Don't have a girlfriend."

The blond smiled coyly. "Would you like to?" she asked, taking a sip from the straw in her garishly colored drink.

Ashton cocked his head, taking in all the gifts she'd made such an effort putting on display, and smiled.

Im str8

"I'm Ashton," he said, setting his phone down on the bar and holding out his hand to shake.

"Veronica," she replied as she took it daintily, her perfectly painted lips curving into a sultry smile.

His phone buzzed again, clattering against the wooden bar top.

Veronica frowned. "Your classmate seems kinda needy."

"Yeah, he — "

[ Dylan ]:

Straight guys don't send dick pics?

Since when?

"He's looking for help with a… a project," Ashton lied, already typing a reply.

don't want you anywhere near my dick

[ Dylan ]:

Tell that to my tonsils

The ones you coated in your jizz when I sucked you off

Ashton nearly choked.

"Hold on," he told Veronica. "I need to… just, hold on."

U CANT TEXT ME THAT SHIT

[ Dylan ]:

Sure i can. Free speech.

Delete your chat log and history if you don't want anyone to see

"No girlfriend, huh?" Veronica asked, one shapely eyebrow lifting.

"No," Ashton replied. "No, girlfr— "

No one's got a nanny app on your phone, right?

" —Hang on," Ashton said, typing furiously.

NO

ITS MINE

Veronica hummed. "I think I can see why."

im not gay

[ Dylan ]:

Never said you were. I'm gay. You're bi

"Y'know what? I'm going to go back to my friends over there," Veronica said. "If you and your 'classmate' finally break up, you should come say hi."

Ashton nodded, making some noncommittal sound of agreement. Or at least, he thinks he did. He wasn't really paying attention.

Im not bi either

[ Dylan ]:

Then ur straight and you love my dick

Simple as that

I DONT

That night was just a night

An accident

Oh, crap.

It felt like a mistake as soon as he'd sent it. Ashton's thumb hovered over the [UNSEND] option, even though he knew it was too late.

With as fast as he'd been replying? Yeah, there was no way Dylan hadn't already seen.

[ Dylan ]:

Just a bj

Well… Alright then.

Good. He'd understood.

YEAH

[ Dylan ]:

Between bros

That was…

That was good.

Exactly

Right?

[ Dylan ]:

You came with my finger inside you

Ashton sucked in a sharp breath as lightning zipped down his spine. He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand, then froze, realizing something.

Wait — where did the chick I was just talking to go?

What had been her name again; Virginia or Vicky or…something? Was that her over at the table, talking with her friends? Or…had it been one of the women in the bridal party?

Shit. She'd been hot. Seemed pretty into me too.

That could've been Ashton's rebound chance right there, if he'd just paid attention.

Ashton sighed.

Why are you texting me?

[ Dylan ]:

I'm bored

and want someone to sext with

Better question is: why are you texting back?

Oh God.

Why was he texting back?

Bc U texted me

Lame. So lame. He's gonna see right through that.

[ Dylan ]:

Sure

But I'm stuck at work with nothing better to do

Ashton's eyes did not jump to his phone's clock, thank you very much. Nor did he calculate what time he could get to the school's computer lab if he were to leave right now.

Because that'd be ridiculous. Why…

Why would I even do that?

The memory of Dylan flashed in his mind, the stretch of his lips as he'd just…gone to town on Ashton's cock.

Ashton shifted judiciously, trying not to be obvious about it. Trying to shove the image in his mind away.

Than think of your massive cock

Fucking.

And how good you tasted

Damn.

And how amazing you'd feel making me take every inch of you

It.

I told you

Stop

[ Dylan ]:

u really want me to stop?

No.

yes

[ Dylan ]:

Then stop texting back

Or use your safe word

Ashton leaned against the bar.

asshole

[ Dylan ]:

Is that an offer?

The. Fuck?

Because sure

send me a pic of that too

Ashton scowled, unable to believe this guy. Dylan didn't seriously expect Ashton to take a photo of himself and send it to him to jerk off to, did he?

Except… you've gotta admit, that's kind of hot.

No. No, it wasn't.

You enjoyed those nudes Allison sent you last month, didn't you?

That wasn't the same thing.

How?

Well, because… because Ashton was absolutely not doing…that. Ever.

…Probably.

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