Jack & Cam
Cam almost hadn't gone to the bonfire this weekend. As much as he loved it and he appreciated that they were creating a tradition, whether or not most of the might have realized it, he was so tired after a week of manual labor. How some of those guys worked twelve hours a day every day — even the days when most people weren't working at all — was beyond Cam. Some of them were werewolves, he thought, so that made sense, but some of them weren't and where they were getting all of their energy was a mystery to Cam. But after half on hour of laying in bed and staring at the ceiling of his shelter, unable to actually fall asleep even though his body was weary, Cam finally gave up on the attempt to sit this one out.
He headed out to the main camp in his boxers and a pair of sneakers, because who gave a shit what he looked like as long as he wasn't sweating balls and uncomfortable. Patty walked around half naked all the time, no one seemed to care. Then again, Patty was a beautiful woman and Cam was just this side of a goddamned Sasquatch at six foot two and over two-twenty. Still. Fuck 'em if they didn't like it. He was kind of too tired to care.
It was the raise of the man's eyebrows that did it, admittedly. Ever since that goddamned post about threesomes — not that he could complain as it had earned him a few rounds with Sara and Ruby before Sara had gone home and the novelty had worn off — he'd been curious about the men around here. Nick had been pretty open about his interest in both of the sexes and that had thrown Cam for a loop. Where he came from, in a world full of jocks and WASPs, being gay was social suicide and bisexuality was a fancy word for "gay but pretending to be indecisive." Having a man openly look at him like that was still very new. It caught his attention.
"Coffee, huh? I figured I'd leave this pot to the die hards and grab some the next time around," he started the conversation off as casually as possible. "Is it any good?"