PIRATES VS CONDUCTORS
CHAPTER 5

Chasing butterflies was a very wearing activity for Brittany. For some reason she seemed to get more tired running after insects than fighting. Probably because butterflies flew randomly, while in battle she was able to predict her enemy's every move. Nobody knew why she would turn back to be the simple-minded girl she was the moment the brawl was over.

She was now laying on her back on deck as she looked at the bright sky above her, Santana's bracelet on her belly. Dave had to discuss strategies with his new allies – even though he insisted on calling them prisoners – and Santana could do without the manly meeting with all that testosterone washing over the maps. Dave would fill her in later and she would say to him if they had an actual plan or just some macho bullshits that they would need to change completely.


“So, did you catch any?” Santana asked, glowing a tender pink.

Brittany closed her eyes against the burning sun and enjoyed the wind. “There's no fun in the chasing if you catch things.”

“You are right, as always,” Santana said, and her voice seemed to smile. She always felt some kind of tenderness towards Brittany that was even stronger and deeper than love. She loved her, of course, but it wasn't just that. Santana didn't want just to be with her, she felt the need to protect her – emotionally more than physically –, to be the glass wall between her and the world around her. Something that Brittany could see through, but that stopped anything from hurting her. She was so special, so precious, but not anyone saw that. And off the ship, when everything was harsher, Santana took care of her. This, more than the ability to move, was the main reason why she missed her body. She couldn't hug her when she needed it. Her presence in voice was not enough.

Santana didn't remember the day they had met because it was like they had always known each other. They had started off as friends and then something changed, but so gradually, so undetectably, that she didn't know the moment she had looked at Brittany and knew she loved her. Maybe she always did.

The day she was shot by the soldiers, Brittany was somewhere else. Dave had waited hours to tell her, but when he did, she was the only one who didn't freak out. “There's nothing wrong with her,” she said. “She's still alive.”

Scared and upset after being deprived of her body and hurled in a world of stillness, Santana had laughed happily because Brittany had made everything easier once again. Nothing had been particularly unbearable for her since Brittany's comment.

She would have continued enjoying the happy reminiscence of her and Brittany's story, but she saw Blaine coming out alone from the captain's quarter and decided it was the right moment to do what she had plained to attempt for a few hours, now. “Brit, would you mind bring me to the conductor?”

“Hmn?” Brittany looked down at the bracelet and she looked at it like she would have looked at a real person's face, with the same intensity and expecting it to move and change expression. “That Blaine guy? Sure.”

Brittany approached Blaine who was intently looking at some knotted rope trying to make any sense out of it, and she tapped him on his shoulder. “She wants to speak with you,” she said, giving him the bracelet.

“Anderson, can I have a word?” Santana said when she saw the void in Blaine's eyes, looking at the bracelet.

“Oh. Of course,” he said then, clearing his throat and taking the armlet carefully. Clearly he had no idea how to deal with it. “How does it work? Do I have to put this on or...?”

“You can put it on or you can hold it, it doesn't really matter,” Santana said. “I will speak anyway. You can't even turn me off. I'm not an alarm clock.”

“I wasn't dreaming of...”

“Yes, whatever. Now, can we go some place quiet?” She ordered. He nodded again and brought her on the other side of the boat, away from working sailors. If Dave saw this, he would have been really angry. He would have feared Blaine could drop her overboard.

“So,” he was really embarrassed. “What can I do for you, miss Santana?”

“Santana is enough,” She hastily said. “It's not what you can do for me, but what you should not be doing. You see, my dear friend and captain of this ship has grown fond of young mister Hummel while he was taking care of him after you let Jesse kidnap him.”

“Excuse me?” Blaine asked, struggling to keep the irritation out of his voice. “It was your dear friend and captain of this ship that wanted him kidnapped.”

“Yes, but it was you who let him out of your sight and left him here, at our mercy, for countless days.”

“I was looking for him!” Blaine protested.

Santana glowed nodding, even though Blaine had no idea. “Yes, and when you found him, you let us capture you and your whole crew. A really good job. Seriously, is it your idea of taking care of him?”

Blaine was now totally irritated and only his ten years long education in a strictly all-male school was stopping him to be very unpleasant with her. “Things aren't exactly like this, miss Santana,” he hissed. “Your captain, who's a man of very low moral and with no sense of honour whatsoever, no matter how many times he talks about it, paid a mercenary to kidnap an innocent civilian and kept him segregated even though he must have known the poor boy couldn't help him with anything.”

“He didn't segregate him, Anderson,” Santana said, clearly calmer than him. “He kept him safe in a ship's cell and this accommodation proved to be the right one, since mister Hummel decided it was perfectly fine for him to run away and risk his life venturing in one of the most dangerous and unknown parts of the Floating Lands with no hope to get out of there alive.”

“What? Did Kurt risk his life?”

“You can bet he did, land boy,” Santana said. “Didn't he tell you? He escaped from the ship and got lost on a belt of rocks inhabited by giant earthworms. And for your information, Dave was already gone when this happened. He turned the fleet around and lost more than half of it to save him.”

“I didn't know that.”

“There's a hell lot of things you don't know.”

Blaine was still shocked by the news and took note of talking with Kurt about that ater, but there was another matter now that required his attention. “Listen, I will be forever grateful to Captain Karofsky for saving Kurt and I'll make sure to tell him so, but that's it. Kurt is my fiancée and, honestly, I find quite pitiable that you come here in Karofsky's place, asking me to back off. I don't know if this is the way of the pirates, but it's certainly not mine.”

“I'm not here to plead for him, Anderson. I came to tell you about the situation here,” she said. “Dave is not a man at peace. He had his bad luck in love some years ago. He was in love with this man, name's Sebastian. He was another captain of an ally ship. They got along pretty well and get past friendship really fast. Dave was happy, happier than I've ever seen him. But Sebastian was not the kind of guy who stays with you forever, you know? He didn't do relationship, and Dave ended up with his heart broken and a strong distrust in love.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, miss,” Blaine said, obligingly. “But I don't see why you are telling me this.”

“I'm telling you this because something has changed in him, maybe not enough for him to make the first step yet, but he's undoubtedly changed. He likes Kurt, I can tell, and I don't want him hurt again,” she said, in a serious voice. “Especially when I suspect Kurt is feeling the same.”

“How do you dare to imply that...”

“You've been away from him a long time, Blaine,” she continued, not letting him speak. “And it's actually your responsibility if any of this is even possible. You let Kurt be taken here and you were late enough for them to bond. You can see where this is going...”

“This is nonsense.”

Santana glowed red, but her voice stayed calm. “We have a war to fight and we're all supposed to work our ass off if we want a chance to win. If Dave is not okay though, this ship is useless. Now, you're responsible for the current situation, so it's up to you to make it right.”

Blaine frowned. “What do you expect me to do? Give him away to Karofsky?”

“If you see it fit,” she smiled, greenish. “But I don't know. I just wanted you to know. This is what Dave wants, and I usually make sure that nothing comes between him and what makes him happy. I just prefer talking to people before doing anything else.”

Blaine felt threatened but it didn't even cross his mind to get rid of the bracelet and the menace it carried. Also, when Santana ended the conversation and asked to be brought back to Brittany, he obliged. He was too confused and freaked out to say anything. Later, he sat back alone and thought about what she had said and wondered if it really made sense because somehow, somewhere deep inside himself he knew he had failed Kurt. Would it be really surprising if Kurt had fallen in love with the captain who saved him while he himself couldn't? With an incoming headache threatening to split his head in half, he went in search of the ship's doctor – if they had one – and decided that whatever decision he had to make about it, it could wait an aspirin.

*
The sail had been nothing but quiet and smooth, up to that moment, but when captain Karofsky saw commander Anderson walk up the stairs and then stop near him – honestly a little bit too close – he instantly knew the day was about to worsen.

“Hello, commander Karofsky,” Blaine said, waving a hand at him.

Dave turned to look at him, slightly shivering in a sudden rage fit. “It’s captain,” he snorted, grinding his teeth, “We’re pirates, we don’t follow your army’s hierarchy.”

“That’s undoubtedly true,” Blaine said, not even trying to hide the superior gaze he cold-showered Dave with, “I’m sorry, captain. Force of habit. I was wondering, do you think I could speak with you for a minute? Privately?”

“There’s nothing you could possibly have to tell me, that can’t be shared with the rest of my crew,” Dave answered, bringing his hands back on the helm and his eyes back on the horizon, pretending to be deeply caught up in sailing the ship while truth was he was dying to just hear what that man had to tell him, to finally get rid of him.

Blaine watched the sunlight hit the golden bracelet wrapped around Dave’s wrist. The stone Santana talked from and apparently lived in shone for a second so brightly Blaine almost found himself blinded by its light. He wondered if that woman was laughing to herself, mocking him and the way she had so easily convinced him to take the first step and possibly cover himself in shame. He sighed, shaking his head as if to clear it from such negative thoughts. “I believe you’d rather keep private what I’m going to tell you.”

Dave half-turned to meet his eyes, frowning. “Is it something I should worry about?”

“No,” Blaine answered, “Not really, I just—”

“Why don’t you just shut up and take him to your cabin, Dave?” Santana’s voice interrupted him, sounding both impatient and irritated with the way they were conducing the conversation.

“Okay, okay… fine,” Dave scoffed, glaring at Santana but ultimately leaving his place to the helmsman. “This way,” he said, leading Blaine down the stairs and inside his cabin, the only one that could be reached directly from the deck.

Captain Karofsky’s cabin was nothing like Blaine expected it to be. He had imagined a cold, simple room with cold, simple furniture arranged in a cold, simple fashion, just like the man he knew – or thought he knew – was. He was surprised to find out it was quite a warm, welcoming personal space, decorated with taste and a clear sense of devotion for the pirate life. It was eye-opening, in a way. He had always thought the pirates were cruel, merciless people, but after all wasn’t that what he was taught to think? And weren’t the one who taught him following the orders of somebody who just wanted the hate to spread so to keep the war alive?

“So?” Karofsky asked harshly, standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest. His voice dragged Blaine out of the almost daydreaming state he had fallen in while wondering about him. “What was it?”

Blaine cleared his throat, moving a couple of steps away from him to try and look casual about what he was going to say. “So,” he started off, examining a map opened on the table, “Your lady captain friend tells me you may be interested in my fiancée.”

A sudden, icy silence fell on the room, and for a moment Dave seemed to have forgotten how to even breath. “E-Excuse me?” he asked, while Santana’s voice screeched from his bracelet.

“You idiot!” the woman screamed, glowing a bright, enraged red, “This isn’t the way you talk to people about this kind of things!”

“Santana, shut the fuck up,” Dave interrupted her, clutching his fists, “Commander, I don’t know how she became so convinced about this, but—”

“I can understand,” Blaine stopped him, turning around to search for the captain’s eyes, “Kurt’s very beautiful.”

“Now,” Dave frowned, starting to sound and look awfully irritated by the whole situation, “Let’s just stop it with this Kurt-is-very-beautiful thing, he’s not a fucking god and it’s not like watching him makes me all hot and bothered, so—”

“Is it true?” Blaine asked, staring intently at him, “Do you like him?”

Dave’s arms dropped, as well as his jaw. “Are you even listening to me?!” he screamed after a couple of seconds of astonished silence, “I just told you it’s something Santana made up in her mind! If— If you’re jealous of him because he shows himself off like some willing prey waiting for wolves to feed on him, and if you came here to search for an excuse to, I don’t know, repudiate him or something, I’m sorry, man, I can’t help you. This is not my problem! There’s nothing between me and your fancy boyfriend, I didn’t even lay a single finger on him, so leave me alone, ‘cause that’s all I want!”

At first, Anderson seemed a little taken aback by his angry monologue, so much that, for a couple of seconds that totally felt like an eternity or two, he didn’t even speak.

When he made his move, though, Dave distinctly thought he had preferred him when he was frozen still, and that’s because, after he considered what he had just heard for that couple of eternities, Blaine just walked closer to him, covered the distance separating them and kissed him. Just like that. It didn’t even took him that much.

In the blink of an eye, it was over, but not for Dave. He could still feel the warmth of the man’s lips against his, their soft pressure, Blaine’s masculine, strong taste.

It was like slamming open a door that had been kept locked for centuries, releasing the beast kept captive inside the room. He grabbed Blaine by his shoulders and slammed him against the wall, pushing himself against him the second after. While Santana screamed a worried “whoa, wait!”, he pressed his lips against Blaine’s, dragging him into a rough, hungry and open kiss.

Blaine took it like a man. He didn’t let out a single whimper, nor he gave Dave the privilege to even try and lead: he stood his ground, freeing himself from the forceful hold of Dave’s fingers wrapped around his shoulders and holding tight to his forearms, while Dave placed his hands on Blaine’s hips in a futile attempt to keep him still if he ever wanted to back off from the kiss – a thing he actually had no intentions to do.

The kiss didn’t stop: it wore off. At some point, they just slowed down and parted from each other. By then, Santana had already fallen into a shocked and quite embarrassed silence, after having screamed for ten minutes straight that she was still there and she didn’t want to be a part of what was happening. Both of them had just ignored her.

After literally almost a decade since his last kiss, Dave found himself in need of a couple of minutes to regain his composure. He felt hot, embarrassed, confused, and awfully self-conscious, at least enough to sense he was starting to sweat. It had to be a nightmare. Nightmares could be that pleasant, after all.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t surprised to see Anderson smile with clear satisfaction. He didn’t even have a single hair out of place, that bastard.

“You better wipe that smug smile off your face, Anderson,” Dave growled, “If you don’t want my fist to wipe it away for you.”

“There will be no need for that,” Blaine answered, smiling brightly and patting Dave on his shoulder, “Everything’s alright. Now I have confirmation of what your captain lady friend told me, and—”

“Stop it with this captain lady friend thing!” Dave barked, “She’s—”

“It doesn’t matter, really,” Blaine chuckled, opening the collar of his uniform and giving Dave the first real sign that he had been affected by that kiss just as much as Dave himself, after all. “What matters is that now I know.”

“What does this even mean?!” Dave screamed, staring blankly at him, “You know nothing, commander Anderson!”

“I know just enough, captain Karofsky,” Blaine chuckled again, shrugging lightly. “Listen, I really appreciate you as a person. You’re honest, strong, proud and brave, and you seem like a good man. I understand your feelings, and I don’t think there’s a reason why I should keep you from your happiness, if that’s what it takes you to get it.”

“…excuse me?” Dave breathed heavily, arms dropping by his sides.

“Besides,” Blaine kept talking as if he didn’t even hear him, “Tough times are ahead, and I can’t have you weak and unfocused. So you can have Kurt for one night, given that you manage to convince him, and that I can be there, in the room, watching while it happens.”

“You… You dirty pervert!” Santana scoffed, glowing a wild, blazing red.

“It’s not a matter of perversion, my lady,” Blaine answered, looking even a bit outraged by her words, “I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly and Kurt is safe. He is my fiancée, after all.”

After that, he just turned to look at Dave, waiting for an answer.

“You’re completely crazy,” Dave said, his voice still too weak to sound threatening in any way.

“Maybe,” Blaine smiled, “But a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. They say that all’s fair in love and war. Let’s find out if it’s true.”

Unable to even think about something to reply, Dave stood still and silent, and watched as Blaine turned around and left the room, clearly satisfied with himself for having solved such a complex and delicate problem.

“Is this really happening?” he asked Santana, still staring at the open door through which Blaine had left.

“I guess it is,” she answered. He heard her swallow. “Just, Dave… next time, make sure you pass me over to Britt, before you find yourself alone in a room with that man, ‘right?”

*
When Dave found him, Kurt was alone on the prow, nervously watching the landscape as it changed in front of his eyes with every hour of sail. They had chosen to take the longer but safer way, sailing around the whole continent to reach the Capital from the mountains that naturally covered it back instead of sailing through the desert sky to meet breach in it by the principal gate. It was probably going to take them several days more, if not a whole week, but it was worth it, not only for security reasons, but also because the sight was breathtaking. They were now sailing along the cliff, several feet above the surface of the sea that shone brightly with sunlight hitting the waves under them.

Kurt often went there on the prow to enjoy the view. Dave knew it, because he barely could manage to take his eyes off him the whole day long. It wasn’t unusual to find him there, what was unusual, though, was to find him there alone.

Walking towards him, Dave started to wonder if Anderson had already talked with him, if he had sent him there alone knowing Dave would ultimately find him there, ready to hear what he had to tell him – and probably slap him in the face.

The whole thing just felt so wrong, and – unsurprisingly – having Anderson’s permission to move wasn’t making it any better.

“Kurt?” Dave called out, walking slowly in Kurt’s direction, arms crossed behind his back to try and look as unthreatening as possible.

Kurt turned around in a sudden, nervous movement. He was biting at his lower lip and torturing his hands, and he was so unnaturally pale that, for a moment, Dave wondered about his health and asked himself if maybe something was wrong with their last meal.

Then he realized, and he knew what he had thought was true: Kurt already knew all, Blaine had already told him everything.

Dave instantly blushed, looking at the wooden floor under his leather boots, unable to speak a single word more.

“Captain,” Kurt greeted him with a little nod and a forced, uncertain smile. His voice was shaky and he sounded on the verge of bursting into a nervous cry.

“I assume your fiancée already told you what... what this is about,” Dave tried, scratching his nape and looking away, his cheeks flushing red.

Kurt nodded, eyes locked on the ground. “Yeah...” he admitted, “But I still would like to hear it from you own voice, if it’s not too much to ask for, Captain.”

Dave swallowed. Embarrassment was starting to cloud his judgement, and Kurt was proving himself to be a tough nut to crack. “Is this another proof of your frankly quite unbearable pride, Hummel?”

Kurt frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course you had to go and be unpleasant about it, didn’t you?” he scoffed, nervously tapping his feet against the wooden floor, producing a regular and unnerving clicking sound, “Stupid me, trying to be polite despite the inappropriate situation you’re putting me in.”

Dave’s lips opened up in a half smile. “That’s more like you, don’t you think?” he asked in an amused chuckle.

Kurt opened his eyes wide, looking at him with clear embarrassment as his cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. “What... What do you even mean?!” he asked, clutching his fists in a fit of sudden anger.

“Calm down,” Dave smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder and brushing it quite roughly, though weirdly pleasantly, before letting his fingers slide down Kurt’s arm in a sweet caress, “I just meant that I know you’re well-mannered, but you sound more... authentic, I guess, when you’re acting superior and arrogant.”

Kurt instantly looked down, blushing even more. “That’s... not really a compliment, you know?”

“Isn’t it?” Dave arched an eyebrow, still smiling at Kurt, “I meant it as one. I like those traits of your character. They’re the most honest and straightforward part of yourself. You wild side, I’d say,” he added in a sly laughter.

“W-Wild?!” Kurt snapped, looking up again. His whole face was now red as a cherry, and Dave laughed again, almost tenderly, feeling unreasonably proud for having cornered Kurt’s smart ass that way – actually, in more than just one way.

“I guess I’ll have to be the first one to admit it,” he conceded at last, taking a deep breath to try and gain some courage to do it, “It’d be pointless to keep denying it anyway. It’s true, I do... have an interest in you.”

Kurt swallowed, biting at his inner cheek. “How did it happen?”

“I don’t know,” Dave answered honestly, shrugging a bit, “I guess you really are outstandingly beautiful, as they say.”

“They?” Kurt asked, looking up at him and arching an eyebrow. Gods, that raising eyebrow did unspeakable things to Dave’s self-control.

“Mainly, though,” he continued, nimbly avoiding Kurt’s question, “I just want to... protect you, I guess.”

Kurt’s lips parted in surprise, as he tried to remember how he used to breath up until a second before. “Protect me?”

“Yeah,” Dave nodded, “I don’t know why. I should probably just hate you for the troubles you caused me and my crew, or despise you for the kind of people you represent, but really, I just want to be the one keeping you safe. You...” Dave swallowed, “Make me feel warm like nobody else has been able to do in a very long time.”

Kurt stood still for a moment, blushing and slightly trembling. He had never felt that way either. It had been completely different, with Blaine, it had felt natural, as if they were born to meet and ultimately own each other. The tension cracking the air between him and the captain was of a completely different nature, instead. It felt uncertain, dangerous, potentially painful, and so, so wrong. Pleasantly so.

“Well...” he started off, clearing his throat, “I guess... Considering the hard times ahead of us... It’s a very peculiar situation, I can’t... You know, I can’t just ignore the fact that we could all be dead by the time we try to break the Capital’s frontline, and...”

“Your boyfriend taught you well, didn’t him?” Dave grinned, looking down at Kurt with his hands on his hips.

Kurt pouted, crossing his arms over his chest once more. “And,” he resumed, “I actually happen to like you too.”

Dave blinked, holding his breath. Caught off guard, for a couple of seconds he couldn’t even gather his thoughts. He had none. “Do you?” he asked, almost chocking on his own voice.

Kurt looked away, blushing again. “Yes,” he nodded, “You... make me feel warm too. So, if you really do want... me, I guess...”

“I do,” Dave said in a hurry, before the courage he had hardly gathered slipped out of him, “I do.”

Kurt looked up at him, his eyes shining of a new, jaunty light. His gaze sent shivers up and down Dave’s spine, and that was really all they both needed to know to decide that, despite how wrong that whole thing felt, it was probably the best they could do too.

*
Kurt insisted on keeping the lights off. Dave had offered to light some candles, since Blaine seemed so eager to watch whatever was going to happen between them, but when Blaine had asked Kurt how he preferred the lights to be, he had instantly asked if it was a problem to not have any light at all.

It wasn’t. Actually, Dave thought it was better that way too. He felt embarrassed and out of place enough not to really feel any kind of need to have the room thoroughly illuminated. The moonshine coming in from the portholes was already enough to see the silhouettes and, if watched closely enough, even facial expressions. Dave wasn’t exactly aching to be able to see anything more.

“Please, don’t mind me,” Blaine said, looking around the room and then deciding the best place to place himself in was the huge armchair behind Dave’s wooden table. He dragged it closer to the bed and sat there with his legs crossed, sipping from the glass of red wine he had accepted when Dave had asked him and Kurt if they wanted anything to drink.

Sitting still, almost paralyzed, on the edge of the bed, Dave looked at him and snorted. “How could I ever stop minding you? You’re sitting on a fucking throne sipping wine like an evil mastermind.”

“I was just trying to be polite,” Blaine answered with a light, clearly amused chuckle.

“Blaine, come on,” Kurt sighed, approaching the bed but standing right beside it, uncertain on what to do next, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Alright, alright,” Blaine scoffed another laughter, shrugging, “It’s just that you two look like somebody who could use to have their mood lightened up a bit. Don’t be so serious about it, let’s say we’re just giving it a try and see how it works out.”

Kurt sighed, muttering an uncertain “fine” under his breath and finally climbing on the bed, while Dave looked at them both in complete disconcertment.

“You’re both completely out of your fucking minds, you know that, don’t you?” he said, turning around a bit to watch as Kurt started to peel off himself the numerous and, frankly, kind of useless layers of clothes he was wearing.

“Captain, please,” Blaine said in a sigh, “Don’t make this even more awkward than it already is. Just try and be natural about it.”

He said it like it was actually something simple to accomplish. Dave snorted, growling a “fine” that mirrored the one Kurt had said just before. He was starting to understand Anderson’s charm, after all. He was one of those people that ultimately managed to had things done their way despite how much people surrounding them could complain about it, and what amazed Dave the most was that he didn’t even have to struggle to get exactly what he wanted. He sure had a talent for bossing people around. He would have made a perfect king.

When Dave finally turned around, Kurt was standing on his knees, right in the middle of the bed. He had his jacket, vest and shirt off, and he was holding himself in an uncertain, embarrassed embrace. His skin looked pale and smooth in the moonlight they were bathing in, and he was looking at Dave with eyes filled with a mixture of fear, anxiety and anticipation, the same Dave could feel burning inside his own spirit, firing it up.

He moved on the mattress, getting closer to Kurt. He placed his hands on Kurt’s shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin under his fingertips. It was inebriating, just like feeling his breath so close to himself it kept caressing his face like waves on a shore.

Dave lent in for a kiss, brushing his lips against Kurt’s. They were soft too, and tasted good, and even if Dave knew it wasn’t true, they still felt somehow untouched.

Feeling like a conqueror, he let his hands run down Kurt’s arms, and then wrapped his own arms around Kurt’s waist, pulling him in while he deepened the kiss, his tongue eagerly searching for Kurt’s while Kurt tilted his head and parted his lips, offering his mouth to Dave in such a sweet, surrendering way that Dave felt like he had won him over.

He unbuttoned Kurt’s tight pants and slipped a hand inside, palming his crotch with studied slowness, swallowing Kurt’s moans while he felt strikes of electricity run through his own body, under his skin, at the mere thought of having him naked and eager and restless, spread on his bed, under his body.

By the moment Kurt had finally sat down on the bed, parting his legs to make room for Dave’s body, Dave has almost forgotten of Blaine’s presence in the room.

That, of course, until he felt his touch on his own chest.

“Anderson…?” he asked, unwillingly parting from Kurt’s lips, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine chuckled, untying the lace keeping Dave’s shirt closed and opening it up, uncovering his broad chest and flat stomach, “I just couldn’t stay away from this.”

“Blaine…” Kurt whined, blushing wildly and covering his face with both his hands, his legs still firmly wrapped around Dave’s waist.

“I thought you said you just wanted to watch,” Dave growled, turning around just enough to throw Blaine an half-mocking gaze, that was ultimately ineffective, because Blaine was already grinning like he had just won the war already – and maybe he did.

“I said I would do it,” he answered, “Not that it was what I wanted to do. Or the only thing I would have done, for that matter.”

Dave scoffed out a resigned laughter, shaking his head. “You know, Anderson?” he said, “You’re an asshole.”

Luckily, that was just about all he wanted to say, because after that he really didn’t have the time, or the chance, to speak again. Blaine undressed him and pushed him down, forcing him to rub himself against Kurt’s shivering body. He didn’t really know if Kurt and Blaine had already had the chance to consummate, and if yes, he didn’t know if they had had the time to do it again since when they had reunited, but surely Kurt felt like he was dying to be touched, dying to feel a man against his body, inside it.

Feeling Blaine’s lips over his shoulder, and the graceful touch of his fingers all over his back, Dave lifted up his hips, giving Kurt time and space to get rid of his pants, and when he finally felt him naked under himself he prayed not to come too soon, with just that – the warm touch of another human being on his skin – because that would have been too embarrassing, too awkward and too shameful to stand.

He didn’t. Following the lead of both Blaine’s touch and Kurt’s needy whining, Dave found the path between Kurt’s thighs and inside the warmth of his body. He felt Kurt arch under himself, he felt him open around his cock and then close on it like a clutch, he felt the friction driving him insane as he pushed and pushed, getting lost in him, diving inside him like he was an ocean, with Blaine grabbing him and keeping him up for air every now and then, just enough to keep him focused and strong.

Blaine slipped a hand between their bodies, holding Kurt’s erection between his fingers and stroking him fast. Dave focused on the movements of his wrist, on the way it twisted and turned and moved up and down so quickly to mesmerize him, and set his own thrusts to that same pace, pushing inside Kurt every time Blaine’s hand travelled down Kurt’s length, and pulling out of him when his hand went back up, making Kurt’s body shake violently with every move they made.

Kurt’s desperate moans were addictive, but somehow not as much as knowing to be a part of the perfect mechanism that was bringing so much pleasure to all the interested parties, and when Dave came, grunting and gently biting at the perfect curve of Kurt’s shoulder, it was that thought that made him shiver, even after the orgasm had wore off.

He lifted himself up on his arms, looking down at Kurt. He was smiling blissfully and kind of dumbly, his chest and stomach, covered in his pleasure, moving up and down with every deep and heavy breath he took.

Dave turned his face to meet Blaine’s gaze. He found him smiling uneasily, trying to get off the bed unnoticed. “Where the hell are you going?” he growled, grabbing him by his wrist.

“Um, I don’t really know, actually,” Blaine answered, letting Dave drag him back close to him and Kurt both.

“Good. Then stay here. I’m not finished with you,” Dave said, grinning as he looked down at the bulge filling Blaine’s pants at his crotch.

Ten minutes after, the three of them were already lying on the bed, Kurt in between them, crouched against Blaine’s side and already starting to doze off, while Dave, turned on his side, watched them both with a puzzled yet somehow indulgent expression.

“You know,” he said, staring at the squared line of Blaine’s jaw as the man looked lazily at the ceiling, a serene smile curling his full lips, “This has been by far the weirdest experience of my entire life. And I battled giant carnivorous earthworms.”

Blaine chuckled, circling Kurt’s shoulders with an arm and not really minding if that arm ended up resting against Dave’s chest too, in the process. “Really?” he asked, “I have to say I found it quite enlightening, though.”

Dave looked down, blushing a little. He had felt the same, but he didn’t know if he could actually say that without sounding to demanding, or the Gods only knew what else.

“Captain,” Blaine said, his voice strangely but pleasantly soft, “I think we should try it again, sometime in the future.”

“If we manage to survive,” Dave added with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Blaine chuckled again. His voice kept sounding so weird and unsettling, like all those things you refuse to acknowledge you like, before you finally give up and admit it. “I think we will.”

For that night, and that night only, Dave chose to believe in him blindly, and with Blaine’s voice still echoing in his ears, he swiftly fell asleep.