"I'll take care of you, Ashton; I will."
Oh.
Slipping his hand under the elastic waistband of Ashton's briefs, Dylan wrapped his fingers around Ashton's cock; so warm and sure and solid. Ashton couldn't help but curl into him, a thread of need underscoring his harsh panting as he buried his face in Dylan's neck.
"What if someone comes up here?" Ashton asked against the safety of Dylan's skin.
"They won't," Dylan assured him; thumb stroking over the crown of Ashton’s cock and smearing his own pre-cum around and around in slick splendor that set Ashton's thighs to quaking. "It's eight thirty at night on a Friday. Everyone's at the game, or partying. No one’s ever up here this late. It's just you and me, Ashton. Just us."
"But — "
"Trust me. If someone opens the door at the bottom of the stairwell, we'll hear it echoing all the way to the top and have time to hide. They'll think we're up here smoking or something. Unless… You want to stop?"
Ashton vehemently shook his head no.
"Words, Ashton," Dylan taunted. "Use your words like a big boy."
A laugh bubbled up from Ashton's chest then; filling his chest with a warm and tingly delight that multiplied the currents surging through his cock.
"Fuck you," he huffed out around it.
"Man, I amtrying," Dylan chuckled with a wide-eyed earnestness that helped ease Ashton's racing heart. "But you gotta work with me here, right?"
"I…don't want to stop," Ashton told him honestly, cupping Dylan's jaw in his palm. Sweeping his thumb just under Dylan's eye, he…
But Dylan ducked away from Ashton's hand, eyes flattening as he cleared his throat roughly. "Keep going then?"
Hesitantly, Ashton nodded, unsure what he'd just done wrong. Biting his tongue on what he'd been about to say for fear of ruining it again. Instead, he watched Dylan intently, waiting for his cues.
"Alright. You like my hand, or want me to blow you and stuff?" Dylan asked as simply as if he were asking what Ashton wanted on his pizza.
"Oh holy fuck." Ashton said, nearly swallowing his tongue. "Um.Wouldyou?"
And Dylan's grin would be etched in Ashton's memory forever; he was sure of it.Andthe sight of him dropping — fuckingdropping— to his knees in front of Ashton's straining dick.
"Are you kidding? Just look at this cock. I'll bet you taste so good," Dylan told him, already tugging Ashton's pants down to his knees. "You're big enough to wreck my throat, make it ache for days. Maybe I'll even let you. But you'll be good and hold still for me until I say, won't you?"
"Yeah," Ashton replied automatically, ready to agree to anything as Dylan took hold of his cock again.
Except —
“What’s uh,mmm…" Oh goodGoddid Dylan's hand feel good. And the way he was staring down the length of Ashton, like a tiger about to pounce? Distracting didn't even come close to it. And yet, Ashton urgently needed to know — "What’s ‘stuff’?”
“Hmm?” Dylan hummed quizzically, eyes locked on Ashton's cock, pink tongue flashing as it darted out to lick his lips.
“You s-said," Ashton swallowed. Hard. "‘Blow you, and stuff'… W-what’s that mean?"
“You tell me,” Dylan teased mischievously, further shredding Ashton's sanity with all the possibilities that could mean.
The cropped buzz cut at the sides of Dylan's skull tickled Ashton’s palms as he slid his hands up; steadying him, grounding him. He needed —
"Don't," Dylan warned sharply, and Ashton instantly froze.
"I don't like having my hair played with," Dylan said brusquely. "Grip my shoulders and brace against me instead."
And even if Ashton couldn't feel how the man's entire body had gone rigid, humming like a live wire under Ashton's hands? His tone alone was enough proof there'd be no use arguing the point, even if Ashton had wanted to.
Whatever Dylan might call him, there were times Ashtonwasn'ta fool. This, mercifully, was one of them.
