After snagging more supplies, they exited the house. He marveled at the impressive graphics—the grass swaying in the virtual wind looked so real—while their two avatars regrouped with the NPC, who had been their sidekick from the start.
“Well, look who’s here!” it exclaimed. “Ready to tackle some zombie hordes?”
“Do we have any other choice?” Jared’s avatar replied.
“I’ll track that guy down for you, don’t worry.”
“Wh-what guy?” Dylan’s avatar asked the non-playable character before taking a drag from its cig.
Yeah, they were all just chilling at dusk now.
“Quit pretending. You became a Pilgrim to track that fucker down. I found someone who knows him.”
“Wait. What? And you’re only telling us now?” Jared’s avatar spoke.
“When we sat here”—the NPC gestured to the incredible scenery in front of them—“I thought you guessed right away we were celebrating.”
The conversation went on for another five minutes as the character explained where they had to go next. Once it was done, theysaid goodbye and jumped into a beat-up truck, heading towards a column of smoke lingering over the horizon in the north.
The game had a few bugs here and there, but the story development, the scenarios... the parkour! It was so good. The best part, though, was being here, drinking, yelling at the TV as if it had insulted their mothers, and laughing at Dylan swatting the air instead of a zombie’s head. It was strange seeing him like this, so laid-back.
While Dylan wasn’t timid and he was nice to everyone at the office, he was quite serious and reserved too. Sure, he’d occasionally shared bizarre stories of him and his friends getting caught up in the middle of the weirdest situations, like fist fights in the rain and a cop with a black eye, but there was still a veil of mystery surrounding him that had Jared intrigued.
Motorbikes. Tattoos. Snowboarding. Everyone knew he loved those, but what about his goals? His dreams? Family? Partners? It was like he was wearing armour. Which for some reason, Jared wanted to rip off so he could really get to know him. And today, it felt like he finally could peek behind all that rusty, hard metal.
Two and a half hours zoomed by like a caffeine-charged squirrel, and only when Jared’s stomach serenaded them with a growl did they realize it was way past dinnertime.
“I think it’s time for me to hit the road...”
“Gotta be somewhere else?” Dylan asked, pausing the game and grabbing his phone from the coffee table when Jared moved to get up.
“No…” And he didn’t want to go back home either.
Tilting his head, not sure what Dylan meant by that, Jared waited for him to elaborate.
“You said Paul was going out with some friends tonight. We can keep playing and order some takeout?” He lifted a shoulder. “You can crash here tonight if you want. That way you won’t have to worry about the beer count.”
“You trying to get me drunk so you can do bad things to me?” Jared wiggled his brows, smirking.
“Maybe.” Dylan returned the cocky grin, then averted his eyes to look at his phone as he scrolled through the restaurants in the app. “So, what do you want? Pizza, burger, tacos...?”
“Chinese.”
“Of course you had to say the one thing I didn’t suggest.”
“What, you don’t like Chinese?”
“I do. I’m not picky with food.”
“Then stop whinging.” Jared stood up and stretched his back. “I want noodles with prawns.”
“That’s it?”
“Pork buns? Something spicy? I don’t know. Order whatever else you want. Stuff me good, Dyl.” He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
That had been like a cherry on the double chocolate fudge sundae of innuendos. But now, he was wondering if he had overdone it because Dylan was clenching his jaw, nostrils flaring slightly.
Jared didn’t hide the fact that he was gay. Everyone knew his partner had a cock. He was past all the fear and shame he’d felt when he was younger for being attracted to his same gender. However, despite a more accepting modern society, for some judgmental people, anything related to the word “queer” was a menace. Dylan was not part of that group. He had never once treated Jared differently or assumed he wanted to get into his pants. Awkward silences or discomfort didn’t exist between them. Yet here was Jared now, toeing the line.
