Weird. There was absolutely no reason why that should've stung.
"You are so full of shit, dude," Ashton said, shaking his head and not caring that Dylan couldn't see it. "I know the stories. Hell, I'veseenyou, with that big flashy pink mohawk of yours. Always too busy to work on our term project, but plenty of time to make out with half the guys hanging out on the quad, huh?"
"Not your 'duuude', asshole," Dylan replied, and — doth protest too much, hey? "And I don't know what you think you've heard or who's been running their mouth, but you sound like a fool repeating it. A stupid, jealous fool who — "
There was a dangerous sort of pause.
"Oh," Dylan gasped out. "Oh, you're trying to bait me."
Wait, what?
"Didn't peg you for the type to play coy, but… Somehow you’ve gotten it into your twisted fat head that I’d go for anarrow-minded, bigoted, fresa like you. But you want me to make the first move, don't you? Shove your pathetic ass up against the wall and show you what arealseven minutes in heaven is like, Papi?"
"No!" Ashton huffed, backing away quickly. "Like you could. I'd stop you before you could even try it."
Dylan chuckled, the sound low and full of teeth. "Pretty sure I just proved you can't — orwon't— stop shit. Or is that it? You gave up and let me win, hoping to get a piece of this? Wishing the villainous homo would have his wicked way with your sorry ass? Hard pass. I'm not here to seduce you, no matter how bad you want me to."
"I'mnotgay!" Ashton sputtered, practically folding himself in half to put as much distance between himself and — and thisutter lunaticas possible.
"Yeah, you'd like everyone to believe that, wouldn't you?" Dylan scoffed, sounding pretty damn pleased with himself now. "But we know the truth, don't we,Asssss-sh?"
"Fuck you," Ashton spat back at him, the little space around them growing uncomfortably warm.
"Oh look! You can use your words after all," Dylan cooed. "But again,no. I'm not interested in helping you pull your head, or anything else, out of your sorry ass. Your homophobia's just too exhausting."
Ashton bristled. "I'mnothomophobic!"
"Yeah, sure," Dylan taunted, the feigned boredom thick in his voice. "You walk into a closet with everyone and start in on how much youdon'twant to fuck them? Fuck off."
"You fuck off," Ashton shot back at him, snarling as Dylan just chuckled.
"Told you, you're not my type."
Ashton snorted. "Got a dick, don't I?"
"Eh… Got one, are one, sucks one; I don't fucking care man," Dylan replied. "Just keep it the hell away from me."
Ashton was silent; beyond irritated this bastard thought he knew anything about Ashton's life, and trying to think of a way to rub Dylan's nose in the fact he didn't know shit about fuck all.
"Fine, I'll prove I'm not homophobic," Ashton found himself saying. "If you're so picky, then tell me whatisyour type."
"Tall," Dylan replied before his brain could catch hold of his mouth, because apparently Ashton's chatty germs were spreading. "Athletic. Shoulders I can hang off of. Massive swinging cock, and he knows how to use it."
"Thought you said I wasn't your type?" Ashton smirked.
Hah. Take that, asshole.
"Intelligent, which immediately rules you out," Dylan gritted out. "Brave; not afraid to stand up for people, no matter the consequences to himself. Oh — and doesn't hate me. That one's pretty important."
"Yeah, well," Ashton grumbled as some sulky beast skulked around in his chest. "Makes you a bit of a hypocrite, then, doesn't it? Pretty sure I saw you in the bathroom by the science labs, blowing the guy who keeps getting chased off the quad for passing out bible tracts."
"Blew him, changed his religion, and the world is now a better place for it. Why, you looking to chat with God too?" Dylan bragged, the dramatic little ass. "You can't seriously be giving me shit for this. Weren't you in the computer lab bragging to your friends about all the women you've dated? In fact, pretty sure it was right before I gave you a warning for the noise,then banned you from the lab when you called me a 'fucking cocksucker'."
"So?" Ashton huffed, a bit embarrassed now, actually. He wouldn't have said it if he'd known Dylan wasactuallygay, but anyway — "It's true, isn't it?"
"¡Ah la verga! Eres un idiota," Dylan snapped at him. "Un idiotahomofóbico."
Ashton grunted, annoyed that he hadn't paid better attention in his high school Spanish class. But the teacher had been so impressed by his essay on 'Important Latin Figures in Texas History' Ashton had written about his own ancestor, José Antonio Navarro; from drafting the state constitution to being a slave owner, and all the other sordid, grisly bits between. He'd even been allowed to bring in the quill his ancestor used to sign the Texas Declaration of Independence, and from then on Ashton had pretty much been able to coast for the rest of the year; enough to earn the language credit he'd needed to graduate, and then on to bigger, better things.
