The machine began to whir, and Dylan quickly shoved the cartridge into an open slot, looking suspicious but pleased. Until he turned to face Ashton, when his satisfied expression instantly dropped into a glower. "What do you fucking want?"
"You weren't — " Hastily, Ashton swallowed back his words. He glanced over at Logan and Oz again, uncertain.
"You weren't upstairs," Ashton tried again, dropping his voice low so they wouldn't be overheard. “At the party.”
"Never said I'd be, did I?" Dylan shrugged, wandering over to the computer lab's help desk as Ashton followed. "Said that ifyouwent up there, you'd have your answer. So did you go?"
Ashton glared, but gave a slow nod.
"Really?Why?" Dylan asked, and Ashton wanted nothing more right then but to wipe that stupid smirk from his face —exceptfor a spell that could erase that irritatingly knowing tone from his voice.
Why? He fucking asksmewhy?
"Why? Uh, because you said — " Ashton cut himself off, scowling, then lowered his voice again. "I mean, I thought we were gonna…"
"Gonna what, straight boy?" Dylan taunted, scowling down at where the toner was stubbornly clinging to the —
Oh. Thethreefingers of his left hand.
Wonder what happened there?
Feeling eyes on him, Ashton glanced over to find one of Dylan's coworkers watching them both. She wasn't even trying to be subtle about it, either; scissors held mid-cut on one of the snowflake chains that'd been taped up all around the lab, adding a desperate sort of cheer to the place.
"Hey, Paige," Dylan said, holding up his hand. "Can you cover the desk for a bit? I inked myself."
She laughed, but waved him on. "Twenty minutes, then it's my lunch break. And you gotta swear to keep three feet on the floor at all time!"
"Him?"Dylan shot her a disgusted look. "Please, I have standards."
Hey!
"Uh, no you don't, Dill," she countered with an unrepentant grin. "Didn't I see you disappear last week with the new guy on the janitorial staff who doesn't speak a lick of English —orSpanish — and you'd met him, what… five minutes before?"
Oh?
"Um, excuse you. It was at least a half hour, and we have a connection that transcends language." Dylan wadded up the stained paper towel he'd been using, lobbing it in a long and beautiful arc right into the trash. Ashton glanced back up at him, impressed.
"Whatever you say," she said, the laughter thick in her voice.
"I do say." Dylan gave a mock sniff. "Besides, Pavlo is hung like ahorse.If you ever see it, you'll understand."
"Ah," Paige nodded sagely. "Now that I believe."
Dylan grabbed a water bottle from behind the desk, then indicated the double doors at the back of the lab with a tilt of his head.
"C'mon, fresa." Dylan grunted, already heading for the exit.
"What's that mean? Ashton asked, frowning at the unfamiliar term as he hurried to catch up.
"Fresa?" Dylan replied, cocking his head. "Oh, uh… slang for tough guy."
Oh. Really?
Ashton couldn't seem to contain the small smile curving his lips.
"Like that anime character?" he asked, glancing over curiously.
"Uh, sure," Dylan answered him without slowing down, heading right for… Wait.
