Chapter 8 - Absolute #4
The memory of two hundred dollars left sitting on the table next to a quarter bottle of brandy flashed in Ashton's mind. Cheeks heating despite the cold, he pulled out his phone — only to stare blankly at their messages, at a complete loss for what to say.
Feels like that note I sent to Lizzy Barlow in the third grade.
Do you like me back?
[_] Yes [_] No
Waiting for inspiration to strike, Ashton scrolled through the history. He had to stop and adjust himself; their chat logs proving to be just as hot the second time around.
He thumbed over to his email, his social media page, the football team's stats. And, okay — so maybe Ashton was stalling while he worked up the nerve. He'd never picked up a guy before tonight.
Not on purpose, anyway.
It really was quiet out here, peaceful in a way he never got at the frat house. If you'd asked him last week, Ashton would've called it boring, maybe, or lame. That all the noise and activity was what made the frat house so much fun.
Ashton looked around, letting the thoughts come to him instead of chasing them away. He found himself on Instabooklr searching for — in incognito mode, of course — blogs with advice on…
Wow.
With advice on everything. With detail. And images. And —
Ashton clicked a link.
"Hey, Papi."
PAUSE. PAUSE. PAUSE.
Frantically, Ashton looked around for anyone who might've overheard. Relief flooded through him; the parking lot was still just as deserted as before.
The guy on his screen was built wiry and lean, with a tone to his skin as deep as his voice. Going by the screen name 'Rey Verde', he wore a green luchador mask with gold accents that matched his single glove, and a sultry smile.
And absolutely nothing else.
Ashton swallowed sharply and — looking around himself one more time — hit play.
"Been thinking about you," the camboy said as he stroked his cock. Biting his bottom lip, he tipped his hips, letting his thighs fall open to reveal…
Everything. Ashton could see everything. And he liked everything he saw.
"You been thinking about me?" the camboy asked, pure mischief glinting in those eyes.
I sure am now…
A noise, a flash, a sixth sense of some kind — something made Ashton look up, thumbing the pause button reflexively.
There was a dark figure emerging from the glass doors to the computer lab, more of a shadow or a smudge of an outline than a true human form. And though it was hard to tell from here, Ashton thought he could make out the pink fan of a mohawk.
Quickly — before he could talk himself out of it — he opened his map app, taking a screenshot of his location in the parking lot and sending it to Dylan.
There. Now the ball's in his court. He can pretend he didn't see it in time, or —
Oh. The figure had reached for their back pocket, looked at the phone they'd presumably taken out, and —
It's him. He's heading this way.
Ashton hastily opened the video back up to save Rey Verde to a new private list, finishing and closing the whole app just in time as Dylan walked up.
"Wasn't sure if you'd gotten my text," Dylan said, both his tone and expression neutral when he drew near.
"Wasn't sure I… if I was going to come," Ashton admitted as he stood, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands. "But I thought — Look, I know you're always saying how busy you are and stuff, but… You got time to eat?"
"In public?" Dylan asked, tilting his head as if mulling it over. "Sounds suspiciously like a date, fresa."
He's waiting for something. What's he… oh!
Ashton had been leaning against the passenger side door earlier, which meant he was still blocking it now.
Smooth. Real smooth.
"No, I… maybe," Ashton replied as he moved around to the driver's side of the car, then paused, looking up at Dylan cautiously. "Is…that okay?"
But Dylan just grinned so brightly it made Ashton's heart skip.
Wordlessly, he opened the door and slid into the passenger seat with a grace Ashton couldn't hope to match just then.
He was all left feet and elbows, as if he'd never encountered anything like the driver's seat of his own car as he buckled himself with clumsy hands.
He looked to Dylan curiously, who shrugged.
"Willing to try it if you are."
"You sure?" Ashton couldn't help but ask. After wrestling with this question himself for so long, Dylan's calm confidence was addictive, leaving him desperate to bask in its glow. "I mean, if I'm keeping you from something, then…"
Please stay. Please stay. Please stay…
"For you, mi fresa,?" Dylan smiled, his hand so warm as he took Ashton's in his, the words 'my strawberry' — His? His! — dancing round and round in Ashton's mind. "Believe me, I will make the time."
They've taken the first steps, but what happens when Ashton & Dylan's secrets all come spilling out?
Don't miss the next chapter of their story!