NOTE: This is fan fiction based on Supermassive Games's "The Quarry". All copyright belongs to them, this is just a work of fiction and I claim no ownership of the characters or their stories. I have tried my best to emulate them, however. I might consider making this into a series, let's see how it goes...
***
Dylan was high.
Mr H. was taking over radio duties tomorrow morning, so hit didn't matter if he got stoned out of his mind tonight. There were a few spots around camp where he had stashed the good stuff, but this one was his favourite. Siting here, at the base of the tree, he had a good view of the lake, and he could just make out the radio tower too. Best of all, it was secluded.
He took a drag and looked out at the calm waters. His mind drifted - as it did often these days - to Ryan. He rubbed the growing bulge in his pants as he let the smoke escape his lips. The stoic, brooding councillor had been dropping hints that he was interested over the past month, but refused to make a move.
Dylan acted blasé, laughing each failed flirtation off, but sometimes - like tonight - it got too much. He needed to relieve some frustration. The weed had done some of the work, but it wasn't enough. He took a final drag then pulled up his shirt and slid his hand down his pants. His fingers wrapped around his growing cock and squeezed, forcing an involuntary groan to escape his mouth. He rested his head against the tree and bit his lip as he began to stroke.
He started out slow, picturing himself in the bunk back at the lodge. He imagined a hand reaching up from the bunk below and starting to touch his chest, his stomach, fingers trailing down towards his crotch.
As he stroked, his free hand followed the imagined motions. He let his fingers trace his nipples, his stomach, then started to play with his trail.
He began to stroke faster. Imaging Ryan pulling himself up to his bunk - naked and erect, a wild, desperate look in his eyes. This Ryan knew what he wanted. This Ryan wasn't afraid to take it.
Dylan slipped his pants down and kicked them off, enjoying the gentle breeze that caressed his legs. He licked his thumb and massaged his saliva into his cockhead. His back arched in response and he let out another groan-
He stopped suddenly.
A sound had alerted him. A rustling in the bushes. Someone was mumbling. Incoherent, nonsensical mumbling. It was getting louder - closer.
He had a choice to make - quickly get dressed and risk getting seen? Or, stay as still and quiet as he could and hope that he wouldn't be noticed?
Dylan froze. The voice was clearer now, and it didn't sound like it was coming his way. He'd be fine, right? He held his breath.
"Goddamn bitch!" Jacob exclaimed as he burst from the bushes into Dylan's private clearing. Jacob stumbled forward, hiccupping, with a half empty beer bottle in hand, and proceeded with his incoherent soliloquy.
"I can't believe she'd- No, I shouldn't have said. She's the best thing that ever happened to you, Jacob! You're lucky - lucky that she - she's such a fuckin tease though - I just don't understand. One minute she's all like - and the next it's: 'Jacob, why y'gotta take stuff so personal, this is just' - it means she likes me though, right? She wouldn't get like this if she - I dunno man, i'm kidding myself, i'm not good enough for - but is it too much to ask, I don't want it all the time, just every now and then, y'know? Oh, hi Dylan."
Jacob finally noticed Dylan who sat half nude on the ground, with his back pressed against a tree.
"Hey man." Dylan swallowed, trying to grip his discarded pants with his foot, "what's- er- what's going on?"
"Emma's being- grr- you know what she's like, man!" Jacob spun around and squatted in front of Dylan. Somehow, he managed not to topple over, despite wobbling - a lot. Dylan could see now that Jacob's shirt was hanging on by a single button, and his shorts had clearly been pulled up in a rush. One side of them was hanging so low that he could make out the counsellor's pubes. His well defined 'v' was clearly on display, as was his toned glute.
"Sorry man," Jacob continued, oblivious, "I don't mean to - what you doing all the way out- woah!"
Despite Dylan's desperate attempt to retrieve his pants - he'd just managed to hook them on his toe - it was too late. Jacob had finally seen through his anger, or his intoxication, to see what was going on.
"Dude!"
"What?"
"DUDE!"
"WHAT?"
"Dude, what are you doing?"
"What are YOU doing? I was out here by myself, I didn't invite you out here - you snuck up on ME! Can't a man enjoy some private time anymore?"
"Jesus! I didn't - oh fuck!"
"Don't bring Jesus into this!"
"Christ!"
"Same person!"
