Work Text:
20:15 | August 22 — Dylan
HACKETT'S QUARRY CAMP FIRE PIT
It was strange, but it wasn't until empty nesting day that Dylan felt he really got to know any of his work friends. Of course, he knew the basics before. Nick was Australian, Abi was into art, Emma was a social media influencer. Ryan was hot and mysterious, and totally his type. As to be expected, these were very surface level facts about them. A lot of the counsellors had to pick up extra shifts, since the two others never showed up. Majority of the time, they only saw each other during meal-time and at the campfire, and even then Dylan was in charge of the announcements at the radio hut. He never seemed to stick around long enough to get to know any of them. Since the van mysteriously broke down on the day they were due to go home, and Mr. H had left them there without any adult supervision (correction: with only Ryan's adult supervision), He'd managed to convince all of them to have one last party together at the fire pit. It would be his last chance to get to know them all for real, before they all parted ways, never to see each other again. He very much didn't want that.
Bonfires were sort of Dylan's thing. Not that he could claim the concept of a bonfire party as his, but he enjoyed the atmosphere. It was mostly dark, the chill in the air of the night sky cut through by the powerful, homely warmth of the massive firepit in the centre. The crackling of the embers provided a nice ambient noise, and enough distraction that he was certain that nobody would call him out for staring. He could easily claim that he was not, in fact, staring at Ryan, and that the rosiness of his cheeks was due to the cold and the alcohol. So what if he was only pretending to take sips of his beer? None of the others needed to know that he hadn't really been drinking.
As the amicable conversations halted to a comfortable silence, Dylan did what he did best—speak his mind. He absently sloshed his beer around in the glass bottle, clearing his throat to garner his friends' attention.
"Okay, new idea. How about a party game? It goes like this, a game of truths and lies: Truth or dare Dylan style." He said, pausing for dramatic effect. "So basically, someone asks you truth or dare. You choose and then you do. No ifs, ands, or buts!"
He leaned back, feeling proud of himself as a few of his fellow counsellors laughed at the suggestion. He turned his attention to Kaitlyn, who sat beside him on the log.
"So... truth or dare?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Yes, exactly." He smiled lazily, his practiced care-free expression lighting up his face. "You got it."
"So I can make people kiss." She confirmed, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"If they choose dare, then yes. If everyone consents of course." He patted her gently on the shoulder, before staring intensely at the other counsellors. "But keep it in your pants until then."
His eyes landed on Ryan, and he forced himself to look away before the blush on his cheeks could no longer reasonably be explained away by the frigid wind or the effects of the alcohol he wasn't even drinking.
"Well, house goes. So, Abigail..." Dylan trailed off dramatically, his face lighting up. "Truth or dare?"
"Oh! Uh," Abi said, sitting up straighter under Dylan's gaze. "Truth."
"Ooh, you really dodged a bullet there, huh? Abi, have you ever slept with someone—" He said, pausing. He noticed Ryan's horrified look out of the corner of his eyes, and quickly added to it. "Have you ever slept with someone at this camp?"
"Oh, no." She said, seeming taken aback by the change in direction. She shook her head, a nervous laugh on her lips. "No, sorry. I haven't."
Abigail's gaze shifted to each of her friends in front of her. Dylan noticed with delight the way her eyes would linger for much longer on Nick, though Nick seemed completely oblivious. She seemed to be struggling to decide between people, and with half-hearted encouragements from the others failing to assist, Emma quickly cut in.
"Ugh, ding ding ding, too late. It's my turn now. Ryan," Emma grinned, an almost predatory smile on her face. "Truth or dare."
"Dare, give me what you've got."
"Your dare comes with a choice—"
Oh no.
He didn't like how Emma smirked knowingly in his direction, like she was piecing it all together. Dylan wasn't sure how Ryan could possibly feel confident in his decision, not with the way that Emma smiled at him. He could practically see the way the gears turned in her evil, evil mind as she sentenced him to his fate. A fate of heartbreak and loneliness, where Dylan would have to face the fact that his camp-crush was in fact not at all into him. He'd read Ryan's banter with him earlier as awkward flirting, but now he was convinced that he'd misread it all. That Ryan would chose whoever the other option was, and not him.
"You can either kiss Dylan, or—"
"I've heard enough." Ryan said, staring at Dylan with an unreadable expression.
Dylan's face fell as he prepared for Ryan to leave, to be so appalled by the idea of kissing Dylan that he'd exit the campfire and head back to the lodge for the night. His last day at camp with his work friends, and he'd be figuring out how to cry himself to sleep in a way that wouldn't wake up the others. A way that wouldn't alert them to the fact that Dylan wasn't quite as care-free and go-with-the-flow as he'd lead them to believe over the past two months.
"Hey," Ryan said, beckoning Dylan over. "Dylan. Are we doing this, or what?"
Dylan immediately dropped his beer on the ground, not caring that the full bottle tipped over and seeped into the dirt. He was vaguely made aware of Jacob complaining about a waste of beer, but he only acknowledged that by flipping him off over his shoulder. The few steps it took to get to Ryan's log seemed like they took an eternity, and by the time he reached Ryan it was like everything around him just ceased to exist. He stepped up close to Ryan, staring at him with a nervous smile on his face.
"No backing out now, Lenivy."
Ryan's tone sent shivers up Dylan's spine. He lifted one leg over the log, sitting sideways on it as Ryan shifted mirrored him. He hoped Ryan couldn't see how red his face was, or the way his hands trembled ever-so-slightly.
"Do you really think I want to back out?" He said, offering him a mischievous smile. "Or do I just make you nervous, Ryan?"
"Shut up."
Before Dylan could come up with another snarky response, Ryan had closed the gap between them, and Dylan's mind nearly exploded as he felt the soft, slightly cold lips of his camp-crush against his.
He quickly kissed back, letting his eyelids flutter shut. Dylan's hand came up, experimentally cupping the side of Ryan's face. He was vaguely aware of his fellow counsellors cheering loudly in the background, but he was so wrapped up in what would truly be the perfect end to the perfect summer, that he elected to ignore them.
He reluctantly pulled back, only to catch his breath. He hung his head slightly, trying his best to hide his giddy little smile. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, but the only one he cared about was Ryan. Ryan, who stared at him with interest, who's hands were inching closer and closer.
Oh.
Dylan had never seen Ryan in anything but his layered t-shirt-on-long-sleeves combo, so it had never occurred to him that Ryan was muscular. Of course, he was a sailing coach, so he had some upper body strength. Dylan blamed this delay in realization on the fact that he'd been putting on this persona all summer, of this super chill, laid-back and carefree Dylan. Blasé Dylan.
He hadn't used his brain power in a while, and he blamed that on the fact that he couldn't quite think straight around Ryan. He'd once seen Ryan in action during sailing classes, and had promptly kept walking until he bumped into a tree. He was studying quantum physics, for fuck's sake, and this brooding and mysterious man had him losing his basic motor functions. If he'd pieced it together earlier, he definitely wouldn't have let out such a loud squeak when Ryan fucking lifted him into his lap. Dylan was pretty lanky, but he was still significantly taller than Ryan, but he hadn't struggled at all.
"So," Dylan said, recovering from his embarrassing outburst. "Does this mean you'll finally give me your number?"
Ryan smiled at him—a rare, genuine smile that tugged gently on the corners of his lips. His hands settled on Dylan's hips, and he pulled him in for another kiss. It was much shorter and sweeter, but Ryan had already completed his dare. He'd decided to kiss Dylan again, and a little burst of euphoria flooded his veins at the thought. It wasn't just a dare for Ryan, either.
Yeah, Dylan totally owed Emma for that one, big time.
"I was always going to give you my number."