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.
Forhim.
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 willmakethe time."
