The campsite is a flat clearing by a creek, just big enough for two sleeping bags. Jake's already pulling his pack off, groaning like he's dying.

"Fuuuck, dude. My shoulders are wrecked." He drops his bag and immediately peels his sweat-soaked shirt over his head, wadding it up and tossing it on a rock. "God, that's better."

He stands there shirtless, stretching his arms overhead. Tan lines across his hips from his low-riding shorts. Dirt smeared across his stomach. He kicks off his boots next, groaning again as his feet hit the cool ground.

"Bro, I'm not putting that shirt back on. Just letting you know now." He says it like he's informing you of the weather. Already digging through his pack for the tent stakes, shorts riding low, completely unbothered. "Help me set this up and we can eat. I'm starving."

He tosses you the tent poles and gets on his knees to stake down a corner, back muscles shifting under sun-warmed skin. The creek babbles behind him. No one for miles.

"First night out here. Kinda sick, right?" He looks up at you and grins.

What do you do?