'Logan, this is Dylan. Dylan, Logan," Ashton said, gesturing vaguely between them.
"You into punk music?" Dylan offered, throwing him a bone despite knowing just by looking at the guy the answer had to be 'no'. He would've remembered moshing with a guy that stacked,damn. "Could've seen me at one of the clubs."
What Dylan didn't expect, however, was for this ‘Logan’ guy’s eyes to zip back to his mohawk as a pretty pink blush lit up those cheeks. He choked out a strangled “No,” then abruptly disappeared.
"You've got weird friends," Dylan informed Ashton, hiding his confusion in his beer. He was used to the mohawk making himrecognizable, but Dylan didn’t really get out much aside from the odd punk show or hitting up the gay bars…
His eyes snapped to the doorway, but the guy was already long gone. Ashton’s attention was still fixed on the place where he’d been, and Dylan almost wanted to laugh at the poleaxed expression on his face.
Oh, you are having somethoughtsnow, aren't you? Ones that aren't nearly as easy to push aside as they used to be…
"Man, you are so twisted up," Dylan said in a low voice, smirking as Ashton drug his eyes away from his retreating friend and back to Dylan. "You don't even know what to do about it, do you?"
Ashton scowled. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about."
"No?" Dylan cocked his head, reconsidering the man in front of him. "Tell you what. I made a very loud promise to princess out there, so people will be watching if I try to head upstairs in the next ten or fifteen minutes. But if you really want to prove yourself? Come find me in the second bedroom upstairs in half an hour."
"What? Why the hell would I do that?"
"You tell me, straight boy." Dylan winked. "You want to show me, to show yourself — hell, to showhim— that you aren't into guys? Thirty minutes, asshole; that's all it'll take for you to get your answer."
When Dylan walked off, Ashton was still gawping like a fish, which was already kind of funny all by itself.
But the best part? Oh, that was yet to come.
Dylan hadn’t ever been to this house before tonight. He'd certainly never gone past the first floor. He didn't know if there evenwasa second bedroom upstairs. Didn't matter. Just as it didn't matter that he took that as his excuse to leave, practically jogging down the dark, deserted streets back to his apartment and the safety of his own empty room.
Because whether Ashton did or didn't find a second bedroom in that house; as soon as he went looking, hoping to meet up with the guy who'd kissed him, who might do more than just kissing?
Yeah, he'd have his answer if he was completely straight or not.
And Dylan would be far, far away; safe from wasting any more time on that strawberry's stupid, confused ass.
