Welcome To The Media (Dylmas AU)

24. Cast Parties

37 days remaining

Dylan's pov

You know what's not a good look on me? Sweat. You know what I'm dripping in right now? Fucking sweat.

I stood in the corner of our trailer, straining in the scorching heat of June to clean up the mess Thomas and I had left. Not that we really had spent much time in here over the past month and a half, but we were two--rather immature--men. We hadn't exactly been cautious towards cleaning up our trash before we left each time. I thanked the Lord that Thomas had cleaned up a bit a few weeks ago, or gosh knows I'd be wallowing in a pile of grime up to my elbows. I shudder just thinking about it.

I scooped up some empty water bottles, grumbling slightly under my breath. You'd think I could hire someone else to do this for us, but when I voiced that idea to Wes all he replied was, "ya gonna hire someone to wipe your ass after you shit too?" That didn't exactly feel like an encouragement to hire help.

The only thing getting me through the back-breaking work and death-defying temperatures (okay shut up, I'm only exaggerating a little) was the little flutters of excitement that bit at my chest every time I thought about last night. About my...my date.

I blushed, even though I would have claimed it impossible for my face to heat up anymore with how hot I already felt. I couldn't explain it though, why a smile formed on my face as I recalled the night, why my heart seemed to flip whenever I pictured us dancing in the rain, why my cheek still seemed to tingle whenever I touched it. I'm sure I was just imagining it, but still; I hadn't been on a date that fun since my last serious boyfriend. By the time he had dropped me off at my door, I was just about ready to melt into a big, lumpy pile of mush.

I felt too much like a teenage girl, obsessing over her crush. It's not like I'm in love with him--gosh no. I have a small crush on him, a crush that keeps growing faster than I'd like. Kinda like a tumor. Yeah, Thomas is my tumor. A really cute, funny, charming tumor that takes me on blissful dates, but that's besides the point.

I bit my lip. It was really hard to stay grumpy about cleaning when I kept thinking about last night.

"Stop it."

Jumping, I spun towards the doorway. I fought another blush when I met Thomas's gaze; I didn't want seem like a complete puddle of mush around him all the time.

"Stop what?" I asked, releasing my lip.

Thomas smirked. He was wearing his leather jacket again (what the fuck--how???? Does he not get affected by heat????) and with that goddamn smirk, I could definitely see why he'd be mistaken as a 'bad-boy'. Of course, anyone who knows him would say he's really just a precious little puppy that needs to be protected at all costs--

That's my heat-infested mind talking, I swear. I would never think that if I was in my right mind.

"Stop biting your lip," he said casually, "it drives me fucking insane."

I stiffened, turning away to hide the blush that finally broke onto my cheeks. Maybe he didn't mean it like that--like he wanted to kiss me. Maybe he was just really passionate about dental hygiene and didn't want me to mess up my jaw. Either way, if I spoke up, I had a feeling that I'd only end up muttering something embarrassing, so I stayed silent instead.

"What are you doing?" he continued like he hadn't just melted my insides, stepping into our trailer. He left the door open like I had done, to allow a little bit of the breeze into the room.

"Cleaning," I answered with my back still facing him. I knew that if I said anything more I'd probably end up regretting it. I turned towards him again, squeaking when I almost bumped chests with him.