A/N: Sorry I didn't update sooner, a flurry of Christmas shopping and end of year exams kept me busy. Thank you for the reviews and oh my gosh everyone that subscribed, kjshfksdjhf, there's so many people. I love you all. Any spelling mistakes are my own fault and the result of too much Mountain Dew and too little sleep!

I hope you enjoy this little chapter! There probably won't be another update until after Christmas, so hopefully this tides you through. :)


"A little off your game tonight, eh lady?"

"Oh, lady fingers, I need a little help over here!"

"Hey, missy, get back to the ladies rooms!"

Kurt ducked his head, walking quickly through the food hall. He was used to it now, used to the looks and the stares by the soldiers. To hate on someone based on their sexuality was the lowest of lows, but it was clear that these soldiers had no issue with morals.

Kurt couldn't be sure if Sam had spoken about the incident to anyone else – although he guessed not. His guess was that Sam was one of those cowardly men who brushed their attractions and sexuality under the carpet. He figured Sam would never be as brave as he was.

I am brave, that was Kurt's mantra. He told himself everyday, he reassured himself, because, honestly? Who else was going to?

What got to Kurt was the fact that he didn't know what kind of man Sam was, he had no character to base him off, no previous knowledge of him besides coming into his palm – a quick, fumbled, embrace. No conversations, no getting to know one another.

That's not how Kurt had wanted to do it.

Kurt shuddered, as the memories raked through him. He had been sexually frustrated, getting aroused at the tiniest things, so maybe Sam was exactly what he'd needed – maybe he could simply write it off as a one time thing. He'd needed it and Sam had been all too happy to give it to him.

Lowering his eyes and shoving his hands deep in his pockets, Kurt hurried to his sleeping quarters, thankful to leave the rude soldiers and all thoughts of Sam Evans behind.


He couldn't sleep.

No matter how hard he tried, how many sheep he counted or how many thoughts he shoved from his overtired brain, he couldn't sleep. He thought about Soldier Sam, and his family back home. Kurt had had a string of boyfriends before being conscripted as a nurse in the army, but they never … he never felt …

… he never felt like he did with Sam. The danger, the fear of being caught, the intensity and the quickness made the whole experience intensely unbelievable, it was breathtaking.

But wrong.

So, so, wrong. Kurt was a man with morals! He didn't settle for this – for hiding away, fearing what other people thought of him. He would never settle for anything less than what he deserved.

Because he deserved the very best. That's what his mother had told him all those years ago when he came out to her, but that was before …

He shook his head, not wanting to travel down that all-too-painful train of thought. He couldn't think about his mother, not when the pit of grief was still heavy in his stomach. Not when the pain was still all too fresh, despite the fact that it had been years … And so Kurt stumbled out of his uncomfortable bed.

He couldn't keep thinking, he hated his thoughts and he hated being alone with them. He hated that those other soldiers had gotten to him earlier and he especially hated that goddamn Sam Evans and his lips and his smile and shoulders and hair hadn't treated him like crap.

On the contrary, actually, Sam Evans had treated him quite well. And it was that that made it so much harder for Kurt to hate him.


Seeing him was inevitable.

Kurt knew, as he walked out of the hospital bay on Friday afternoon that he was going to run into Sam at one point or another. He also knew that he would make sure things went his way; this time, he would be the one in control.

So when Kurt turned to someone calling his name, he was more than prepared to face up to Sam – to tell the soldier that they had been a onetime thing and to never talk to him again. Until Kurt's eyes locked on the battered soldier; what Kurt had not prepared for, it seemed, was to see Sam dripping wet and topless.

Kurt swallowed. Hard.

"Could you give me a hand?" Sam said gruffly. "This … pump … broke and I can't. Quite. Fix it." He was speaking between grunts as he grasped hold of the water pump in the ground – the pump that led straight to the Hospital wing.

Kurt couldn't ignore him – hospitals without water were like humans with no air, it didn't work – but the nurse was getting quickly distracted by the strain of Sam's muscles as he grabbed the water pump.

"Don't mess around!" The worn soldier snapped, as Kurt shook his head, willing to stop himself from staring. "Come and help me!"

Kurt gulped, before jogging over to the pump. He'd had to fix this pump before and it wouldn't be an easy feat with just two people, but it seemed that everybody else was otherwise occupied. So Kurt reached over, hesitantly grasping the part of the pump that Sam couldn't keep a hold on and twisting hard.

It wasn't going to budge soon, but Kurt pressed on, hoping his and Sam's combined strength would somehow stem the flow of water splashing out of it.

"Come closer," Sam muttered through gritted teeth. "Standing that far away isn't going to help, I'm not going to bite."

Oh god.

Kurt didn't bother mentioning that the thought of being bitten by Sam didn't scare him whatsoever. In fact, Kurt was struggling to keep his arousal in check, even now.

No.

Kurt shoved his energy into stemming the flow of water spewing from the pipe when Sam grabbed Kurt by the collar, dragging him in closer to help with the pipe. Both boys were soaking now, Kurt could feel his white shirt turning see through but he didn't care about that – all he could focus on right now was fixing the pipe and not looking at Sam.

Because, god, the soldier was attractive; his hair was all plastered to his forehead, his chest wet and dripping … damn. It was most definitely a distracting sight.

For a moment, the boys were silent – bar a few grunts here and there – as they attempted to get the pump under control. Sam was struggling for breath, his muscles shaking as he gripped the pump, attempting to twist it back into place. Kurt was gripping the pump too, but his eyes were focused on Sam. God, he made it so hard to hate him – he made it so hard to keep his morals.

"Fuck … this won't … stick," Sam muttered, shoving the pipe hard.

Kurt was losing his grip, his fingers were slipping and he stepped forward. Sam stepped behind Kurt, grabbing the pipe and pulling it forward.

Oh god, how was Kurt supposed to concentrate when Sam was pressing against him like that, muscles straining, hips moving as he thrust the pipe against him? How was Kurt meant to breathe with Sam pressing against him like that?

Kurt was still losing his grip, and his footing, and his mind. His fingers were slipping on the wet plastic of the pump as he and Sam worked together to pull it into place.

"One the count of three we give it one hard pull," Sam muttered against Kurt's ear. There was no way that Kurt could ignore the way Sam's breath was coming an jagged pants against his ear, or the way the soldiers hips were rocking forward, grinding against Kurt in an absolutely delectable manner.

"One … "

They gripped the pipe tight, Kurt scrunching his eyes shut, praying that this would work. He had to get away from Sam as soon as possible, before doing something stupid … like ripping off those soaking pants and taking him right there.

"Two … "

Sam was breathing hard, his chest heaving against Kurt's back, his hips rocking forward, pushing Kurt into a constant state of arousal. The men groaned as the pipe slipped against their fingers and they tried to regain control. Sam's shoulders were straining against Kurt's back, his pelvis thrusting forward as he dragged the pipe forward.

"Three!"

With a gush of breath and a particularly big spout of water, they fell backwards. "Fuck," Sam's voice was merely a breath of air against Kurt's ear as Kurt fell backwards, slipping in the sludgy water. The pipe was pulled into place, but the boys were covered in mud.

Kurt was on his feet before Sam could say anything, wiping mud from his eyes, hair and arms. He was absolutely caked in it … and sporting a very obvious erection.

"Thanks," Sam grinned up at the nurse. His eyes trailing over Kurt's muddy body. "I needed your help."

"Okay, yeah, okay. I have to … go. Yeah, bye," Kurt was slipping and stumbling to find words as he stared down at the shirtless Sam – who, despite the fact that he was covered in mud, had never looked so attractive.

Kurt had spun around and was briskly walking towards the bathing tent, when he felt an arm on his shoulder.

"Come on," it was Sam breathing in his ear. "Let's get you cleaned up."

His voice was that purr, that purr that had been plaguing Kurt since he first heard it, the purr that sent all his blood rushing down south, that had his heard thudding in his chest.

It was that purr that came seductively from Sam's lips, that Kurt absolutely couldn't refuse.