3 (<--pretend that's a fancy heart. I WOULD LIKE WIPs, PLS)
I’M IN THE MIDDLE OF AN AU RPF FIC DON’T JUDGE ME.
“Go out with me?” Tyler says, quick, like ripping off a band-aid. “To the batting cages. Or wherever. After the game this Saturday.”
“Absolutely,” Dylan breathes, without even pausing to think about it first. “Yes. Okay. Let me put my number in your phone, and you can text me if you change your mind, because otherwise I’m showing up at that game with a seriously obnoxious giant poster. It’s going to have glitter, I promise you. And possibly a cringe-worthy pun on your name.”
“I won’t change my mind,” Tyler tells him, handing over his phone and suppressing a gasp when their fingers brush. He can’t remember ever being this charmed by someone in his life. So what if Dylan sleeps around a lot? Tyler can handle casual. He can totally—
“I’m thinking my poster will either say Give ‘em Hoechlin! or CHoechlin Yourself Before You Wrecklin Yourself,” Dylan muses while he punches in the numbers, and, oh, no.