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Two Trash Bins and a Curb

Summary: Asher isn't a very good driver. Yet. He needs help. And apparently, Blake has nothing better to do.

Summer 2017

It was the summer before sophomore year when Blake made the decision to trust Asher with his life. Literally.

Cameron had called him after breakfast, saying he needed help with something urgent. At first, Blake thought it was something serious since Cameron rarely asks them for help unless he's dying or caught in the middle of a bad date. But the moment he opened the door, he knew it was gonna be way worse than either of those.

Asher stood in front of his door, wearing shorts and a Dodgers shirt, looking less than pleased as his fist hung in the air mid-knock, phone pressed against his ear as if he was waiting for someone to answer a call. His eyes swept over what Blake wore, or rather what he wasn't wearing, and dropped both hands immediately to express his disappointment.

"I thought Cameron called you ten minutes ago," he said.

Blake scratched his waist, red marks on pale skin leaving the wake of his fingernails as he combed his other hand through his hair.

"He did," he answered, while Asher stared at him head-to-toe. "You didn't though."

"I didn't think I had to."

Blake shrugged. "Really?" he said. "Because the last time I checked, that's what people do when asking someone a favor."

"Cameron asked you a favor," Asher clarified, and Blake laughed.

Blake looked around to see if the streets were clear today, spotting only a few kids playing in their parent's front yard and Ms. Lewis walking her cat across the street (apparently that's a thing now).

He looked back at Asher, stepping forward when he noticed the boy staring back at him impatiently. "What makes you think I said yes to Cam? I have better things to do, you know."

Asher crossed his arms. "Do you?"

Blake's lips curled in a half smirk as he stepped back, prepared to slam the door on his friend's face before Asher's hand met with its hard surface, wearing a look Blake was so used to seeing on his mom, and he almost laughed.

He didn't know why he found it entertaining to toy around Asher's emotions like this. They weren't as close as the others. Hell, he's closer to Cameron a lot more than he knows Asher, and that's saying something. Blake figured it was maybe because since the first time they met, Asher came across as someone a lot easier to annoy than anyone Blake knew, and that impression stuck.

For the sake of their friendship, he should probably stop messing around, but it's hard not to be annoying around Asher when Blake gets to look at a wide range of priceless reactions every single time.

This one, today, was particularly new.

"Say please," he said, and Asher looked petrified. His neck seemed to fold backward when he leaned away out of disgust, retracting his hand from the door and stepping back. Blake stepped outside, pushing the door open slightly with the back of his foot, letting Asher see what he was doing before an impatient visitor came knocking.

Asher kept his eyes glued on Blake's TV. A rerun of Scrubs was on. His dad used to like that show.

He blinked and turned his attention back to Blake. "Why?"

"I'm not asking for too much here, you know," Blake smirked, leaning against the door frame.

"Other than me kicking this door down?" Asher asked, glancing briefly at his hand that was keeping Blake from closing the door.