Marcus Goes Camping

Hiking

Marcus knew he was not what you could call an experienced hiker--or, well, a hiker. Some Girl Scouts as a kid, some Googling, and a fun situation-ship were all that he had to rely on. According to the hot woman with red hair at the shop, he was fit, had the proper supplies, and had survived much worse than anything the trip could throw at him, so he'd probably be fine. Probably. The shop had a sign that it was not at fault for any bear attacks or sun poisoning he may have experienced on the trail. So he just went for it.

And well... It wasn't a total shit show. He did well during the first week until he twisted his ankle. Some first aid and a single-use ice pack did the trick until it didn't. Sitting at a communal camping area, he considered just calling it quits. He knew he should do that, but he didn't want to be stuck in his tiny studio apartment. The sound of laughter stole his attention. While eating his foul-tasting instant meal, another group set up camp nearby and apparently noticed him as a blonde woman with blonde pigtail braids approached him.

"You look lonely! You out here all by yourself, sweetheart?"

He stuttered for a moment before answering honestly. "Y-Yeah-Yeah, I am."

"That's no fun. You don't mind some company, do yah?"

"I- I no, no, I don't mind."

"Oh good, this is such a nice spot." She lingers for a moment before pointing at his bound foot. "You hurt?"

He wants to say no and that he's fine, but he knows he won't be able to get away with it. He sighs, "I think I just twisted my ankle. It's fine."

"Oh no, that's no fun. You know hiking out here by yourself is not safe."

"I... Well, hindsight is a bitch."

"Yes... yes, it is." "How do you feel about camping over with us tonight? We can help move your tent and everything. I just can't leave you alone now that I heard that."

"I- I'm fine. I've survived a lot worse."

"Well... We have boose. How about just coming over for a good time? Got some smores, too and everything." She turns back to the group and yells back to them. "Y'all wouldn't mind him joining us tonight, do yah?"

"Oh, hell yeah!"

"Drag his ass over here!"

"Sounds fun!"

She grins, "Well, you heard them."

He thinks it over and, well, smores. "Well... It would be rude not to, too. Sure"

"Hell yeah, let me help you with your bag."

"I'm not that injured..."

"It's called hospitality."

"Oh..."

"It's okay."

Marcus groans as he stands; he realizes that the last of his Tylenol ran out. "Ah, fuck."

"You okay?"

"My adrenaline ran out."

"Oh, poor boy." She yells over to the group, "Brian! Camron! I need a little help over here. Twisted ankle."

Before Marcus can object, two men are already running over. Marcus can't help but notice the pure size of them. He's definitely over six feet and thighs the size of his waist. He wants to Shrink in on himself as each lifts him effortlessly by the shoulder.

"You okay, man?"

"Don't worry, you don't weigh a thing to us."

He knows he's blushing, he knows he's blushing, and in a flustered mess, he barely mutters a "thank you."

After being airlifted to a folding chair, a woman kneels before him, tending to his ankle. "What happened?"

"I-I was walking a bit too fast and stepped in a hole. I fell flat on my face, boom. Twisted ankle." She's also very fit; he assumes it's just what everyone looks like out here. He moans when she moves it. "Ahh."

"Sorry, but good news. It's not broken."

"Oh, good."

"But you shouldn't be walking on it for a few days. She said you're all alone?"

He nods, "Yeah. Just me."

"Why? That's so stupid."

"I... am sorry?"

"No- Sorry. I tend to be blunt. I'm an EMT."

"Oh- nice."

One of the men from before comes back with a hot cup of something. "I'm Brian; I should have introduced myself sooner. Do you like hot chocolate? We have a bunch."

"I'm Marcus, and I love hot chocolate."

Brian hands it to him with a smile. "Good to hear. It sounds like you'll fit in here just fine."

The other man is back, sitting beside him with an ice pack. "I always overpack and have a bunch of extras. Said your name was Marcus, ya? I'm Mitchell."

"Yeah. Thank you again for all of this."

"Of course."

"Don't worry about it."

"It's chill, man."

"You'll just have to pay us back with some entertainment."

His heart skips a beat. "Entertainment?"

"Of course, it's been us four for the past two weeks. I could tell you their favorite colours for all their bloodlines. I'm so bored."

"Oh, Oh, I see."

"We ate our dinners while walking, but we have plenty of beer and marshmallows left over. Are you in?"

"Uh- yeah, sure, it sounds like fun."

"Hell yeah!"

___

He's accepted into the group instantly. Before he knows it, they are all trading stories about their past injuries. Brian and Mitchell play for the same Rugby team, and injuries come like flies to sugar. Both have broken their noses twice, and Mitchel has cauliflower ears. Sarah the Emt has never broken anything but has had two concussions. And Tina, the woman who came over first, has broken her legs in horse riding incidents. Not that they ever stopped her, she made sure to add. Marcus keeps holding back and only tells them about a couple of childhood injuries.

Brian leans in with one hand on Marcus's shoulder, holding a beer as he digs for more details. "How did you break all of your fingers falling down a flight of stairs? That's cosmically unlucky."

"I am just cosmically unlucky."

"Apparently." He takes Marcus' hand and examines it. "You can't even tell."

He laughs, "Oh fuck off. Yes, you can."

"Okay, yes, I can."

"You have nice hands. Take it from the resident lesbian; we have good eyes for hands."

"Crooked, scared hands are good hands?" He laughs a little too hard. "You don't need to lie now."

"Sarah- tell him. Good hands, right?"

"I don't know. I would have to take him for a spin." She winks.

Marcus can only stare at the ground as he feels his ears burn.

Brian cuts in, "Sarah..."

"I said what I said."

"Let's play spin the bottle kiss or dare!"

"Oh, hell yes!"

"You in Marcus?"

"Kiss or dare?"

"Well, obviously, we aren't making someone kiss someone they don't want to, so we added dare. If it lands on someone, you can kiss them, or they will dare you to complete it."

"You in?"

"Uhh, sure."

"Hell, yes!"

"I'll go first." She spins the bottle, and it lands on Brian. "Hmmmm... garbage breath or dare this is a hard one..."

"I do not have garbage breath!"

"Dare."

"Hmh... I dare you to hold this open beer on your nose like a seal."

"For how long?"

"Uhhh, ten seconds..."

"Deal."

She balances the beer on her nose for two seconds before it spills down her face and drenches her tank top. The neon pink sports bra underneath is completely revealed. Marcus adverts his gaze and pretends to find the grass very interesting suddenly.

"Ugh- my shirt! I'm out of clean clothes now... You are washing this tomorrow."

"Hey, you're the one who split it!"

"Because of you!" She stands up, "whatever. I'll be back. You keep playing."

"Don't get eaten by a bear!"

"I'll try!"

"Okay, my turn." He spins the bottle, and it lands on Tris. "Oh, I know your answer."

"Obviously." She walks around the fire and kisses him on the lips. "Don't want to ruin my favorite shirt."

She returns to her seat and spins the bottle. It lands on the empty seat Sarah left. "Awe... Would have been fun." She spins again. It lands on Marcus. "Oh... Well, pretty boy... I wouldn't mind a kiss?"

Marcus can barely find the words. "Uh-okay."

She shakes her head, walks around the fire, and leans down in front of him, both hands on the armrests, forcing him to make eye contact. "I need a yes, Marcus."

"Ye-Yes. Yes, please kiss me."

She laughs, "a please? Oh, how fun." She straddles his lap and kisses him. He barely reciprocates until she tugs his hair, opens his lips and deepens the kiss. She only pulls away when she's out of breath. "That was fun."

"Mhmm..."

"You're so flustered."

"Mhmhmm..."

"I think you broke him."

"Mhmhmm..."

"Marcus..? Are you good?"

"Mhmhmm..."

She slides off his lap and smiles. "I'm just that good."

"Oh please, he's petrified by the smell of not showering for a week."

"Dick!"

"It's your turn to spin again."

"If you want to keep playing."

"I- Uh, yes." He leans forward, almost falling out of the chair. He spins it, and it lands on Mitchel. They lock eye contact for a moment. "I- I don't know."

"What if I'm not good enough for you?"

"No- I don't want to make you uncomfortable-"

"Then kiss me. Or I'll be offended. You don't have to straddle me like somebody."

"Hey-"

"O-okay." He tries to get up, forgetting the twisted ankle, and stumbles forward, falling directly into Mitchel. "Ah- I'm- I'm sorry."

Mitchel laughs, holding him in his arms. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah- I'm- I'm so sorry- I forgot!"

"It's okay."

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, you weigh like one hundred and sixty pounds. I have guys almost three times your weight plowing into me all the time."

"Sorry..."

"You already said that."

"I- Sorry, it's a bad habit."

"It's okay."

"I-I still owe you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah..." He climbs up from his knees and kisses him on the lips. Pulling away quickly. "There."

"Oh, she gets a whole make-out, but that's all I get?"

"I-I- I..."

"I'm joking."

"Oh."

"You need help getting back to your chair?"

"Yes..."

"Okay, let me help you."

"Thank you..."