Hi everyone!
So, as I'm sure everyone else has been, I've been watching a lot of crappy reality TV over lockdown. And then I stumbled onto Below Deck- and it IS crappy reality TV, but it's also completely brilliant, and I've devoured every season of every show in the franchise. This idea came to me and I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I thought I'd write the first chapter and put the feelers out. This fic is outlined for around 12 chapters at the moment, but could end up considerably more, or a little less. For those who are unfamiliar with Below Deck, it follows the crew of luxury mega yachts and the crazy demands of their super rich guests. It's insane. I highly recommend it. But as far as the fic goes, you don't need to have seen the show to follow what's going on- the only thing I can think of right now is the term "Bosun", which is basically the name for the boss of the exterior crew/Deckhands. Typically, in real life, there's a First Officer above the Bosun, but BD doesn't usually show that and out of convenience I won't be either. Essentially, Kurt is Blaine's (and Finn and Puck's) boss.
And I think that's quite enough explanation, I hope you enjoy this first chapter- it's mostly just an introduction to the setting and characters/their roles, but I'm quite proud of it anyway! :)
It's never easy walking onto a new boat.
Kurt Hummel had been in yachting for six years now, and had worked on boats much bigger than this 150-footer, but there was still something about a new boat that made his stomach twist with nerves every time. M/Y Courage was beautiful; sleek and shiny and opulent in the way that all yachts are that still takes his breath away every time, but it was also scary, and foreboding, a looming vessel of mystery and uncertainty.
He knew that part of his anxiety was caused by his new responsibilities as Bosun. The promotion he had been awarded at the end of his last season hadn't exactly been unexpected- he knew he was a damn good yachtie, had proven it time and time again on every boat he had ever worked on. His reputation preceded him, despite the fact that it hadn't been easy to get there. But even though he knew he deserved this role, knew he was ready for it, that niggling feeling of self-doubt still lingered somewhere deep in the back of his brain. His success in this charter season would hinge solely on the proficiency of his deck crew, made up entirely of complete strangers, and their respect for him. So, if he was a little nervous… well, who could blame him?
Kurt paused on the passarelle, toeing off his shoes and hitching his bag higher on his shoulder. He was on the early side, but it was just good practice to arrive early when it came to yachts, especially as a department head. He had worked on yachts before that had been a disaster, the level of clean-up required disproportionate to the amount of time the crew had before the first charter guests set foot on the dock. He wouldn't allow that to happen as Bosun, wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him sweat. No, he would arrive early, and he would set to work turning the boat around, and he would make sure that every inch of the exterior gleamed.
He climbed carefully up the passarelle, adjusting his weight as it swayed beneath him, too experienced now to stumble the way he may have in the past, back when he was green. He took his first step onto the solid teak of the deck- his deck- and surveyed the boat around him, impressed by its condition. Sure, it would need some fixing up- he could see from here that the silver desperately needed to be polished, and the windows had a heavy build-up of salt, but there was nothing too drastic- at least, not that he could see so far. He would have time for a closer inspection later.
He wandered through the deck, searching for the Bridge, intent on making a good impression on the Captain. There were no other signs of life on the boat as of yet, but he had expected that, knew that it was unlikely anyone else but the Captain would be onboard. He paused in the Main Salon, admiring its striking interior, when a voice behind him made him jump, jerking around with wide eyes. Try as he might, the effect of his old high school bullies lingered on, even all these years later.
"Sorry, did I spook you?" asked a man with dark, curly hair and a prominent chin cleft, "I'm Captain Schuester. And you are…?"
Kurt took a breath, embarrassed with himself for showing weakness in front of his Captain, already resolving never to let it happen again.
"Kurt Hummel," he supplied, moving forward to take the other man's hand in his own in a firm shake, hoping that the strength of his grip would singlehandedly rehabilitate his image in his Captain's eyes.
"Kurt," Captain Schuester repeated, "so you're my Bosun?"
"Yes sir," Kurt affirmed, shoulders back and chin in the air, blue eyes unblinking as his Captain looked at him thoughtfully. He hated this part, hated the feeling of being assessed. He was aware that he didn't fit the typical mould of a Bosun- or even a Deckhand, but his abilities were undeniable- he just needed the chance to prove it before he was prejudged on his appearance, for once.
Captain Schuester had kind eyes, and he smiled at Kurt encouragingly, clapping a welcoming hand over his shoulder.
"Welcome to Motor Yacht Courage, Kurt. I'm lucky to have you. I've heard a lot about you from Captain Sue. You're familiar with the Caribbean circuit, I've been told."
Kurt nodded, the tension melting away at the mention of his old Captain. Of every Captain he had ever worked under, none had seen his potential quite like Captain Sue. It was she who had awarded him his second stripe, had made him Bosun, and he would be grateful to her for the rest of his life. Knowing that she had spoken to Captain Schuester about him was calming.
"Thank you," he replied, "I'm very lucky to be here. The boat is beautiful."
"Isn't she?" his Captain responded, smiling enthusiastically and casting an adoring gaze around the salon, "she's one of the most beautiful boats I've ever worked on. She's not in bad shape, either. It won't take much for you and your deck crew to flip her before charter."
Kurt nodded thoughtfully, his interest picking up at the mention of his deck crew. He had no idea who would be working under him this season, and that fact was enough to make some of his apprehension come creeping back in. It was always difficult meeting a new crew- he had worked with his fair share of douchebags who had made it their mission to ridicule and belittle him at every turn. He wasn't so naïve to believe that all of that would go away just with a title change- the fact remained that he was different, and it was obvious, and that made him a target.
"Do you know what I have to work with?" he asked, trying his best to sound nonchalant, hoping his nerves weren't too apparent. His Captain nodded, gesturing towards a staircase on the far left and starting towards it.
"I have staff files up on the Bridge," he explained, "come with me and we'll have a chat."
Kurt followed his superior up the winding staircase, emerging out into the ship's Bridge. He looked around at the control panels with admiration- knowing that such tiny buttons and levers and switches could power a vessel of this size was something that never failed to impress him. He dreamed of becoming a Captain one day, of controlling a boat and a crew and having the respect that seemed to automatically come hand in hand with that coveted fourth stripe.
"Have a seat, Kurt," the Captain instructed, gesturing to one of the plush benches that looked out onto the bow, the glittering water of the sea reaching as far as the eye could see. Kurt sat, perching delicately on the edge, glancing surreptitiously at the stack of papers on the table in front of them. Beside him, Captain Schuester reached for the stack, rifling through what Kurt assumed were files for the interior crew before plucking one out, handing it to Kurt to look over.
"I recommend this one for your Lead Deckhand," the Captain suggested, nodding towards the application in Kurt's hands, "he has the most experience. Mostly smaller boats, but he has an idea of the standards we're looking for. He's big, too- around 6'3", which always helps."
Kurt hummed in agreement, eyes darting from side to side as he read through the application belonging to Finn Hudson. He seemed promising on paper, but he would reserve his judgement. Too many Deckhands had let him down before.
Captain Schuester handed him a second sheet of paper, this time belonging to Noah Puckerman. He was slightly less experienced than Finn, with more experience on sailboats than motor yachts, but he had at least worked on deck before, most recently on a 147-footer, and knew what he was doing. Kurt guessed he couldn't really ask for much more.
He glanced over at the Captain expectantly- a typical crew on a boat this size would have three Deckhands, meaning there was one more application left to review. He noticed a slight furrow in the Captain's brow as he handed over the final application, a look of apprehension behind his dark eyes. Kurt took the paper from him, his eyes immediately darting to Blaine Anderson's sparse "Previous Experience" section and his heart sinking.
"I know what you're thinking," Captain Schuester interrupted, "and yes, he's pretty green. But he seems like he's willing to learn, and he has a good work ethic. He's been on a couple of private charter boats, and he was highly commended by the Captain. He might need a little mentoring to get up to speed with a boat this size, of this calibre- but you could pair him up with Finn for the first couple charters. I have a good feeling about him."
Kurt stayed silent, instead acknowledging his Captain with a slight nod. He had worked with green Deckhands on boats this size before, and they usually didn't make it to the end of the charter season. He wasn't sure if Blaine Anderson would be any different.
"Hey. Everyone has to start somewhere. This is an opportunity for you to really show your leadership skills," the Captain smiled, his kind eyes alleviating some of the worry clouding Kurt's brain as he stared at Blaine's application. The Captain's words were true- everyone did have to start somewhere, but starting out on a 150-foot luxury motor yacht wasn't Kurt's idea of an ideal introduction to the industry.
He had started out on smaller boats, privately owned, his first a 42-footer- and worked his way up, deferring to dozens of power-hungry Bosuns, First Officers and Captains along the way. It had been hell at times, and it had been impossible to escape his tormentors on the small boats, but he had chalked it all down as character building, and carried on pushing as hard as he could to prove himself. To throw yourself into working on a mega-yacht after working on a 37-footer and a 64-footer like Blaine had… well, it wouldn't exactly be Kurt's idea of fun.
He was torn from his thoughts by a polite knock at the door, and his eyes darted upwards to see a pretty blonde lingering in the doorway. He didn't even need to ask what her position was- her entire demeanour exuded Chief Stewardess, her posture stiff and her appearance immaculate, not a single blonde hair out of place.
"Welcome to Motor Yacht Courage," Captain Schuester greeted from beside him, moving to greet the new arrival with a jovial handshake, "I'm Captain Schuester. This is your Bosun, Kurt. I'm assuming you're my Chief Stewardess?"
The girl nodded, haughtily but confidently, her green eyes landing on Kurt as she affixed him with a small smile. There was that feeling of being assessed again, of being typecast in this strange woman's brain, and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.
"Quinn Fabray," she replied, her voice low and almost raspy, but somehow simperingly sweet at the same time. Kurt smiled politely back despite his discomfort- it was critically important to establish a good relationship with the Chief Stew. As department heads, they presented a united front in front of their subordinates or dealt with the consequences. If there was tension between the Bosun and Chief Stew, then the entire crew felt it.
"Great to meet you, Quinn. I'm leaving you in charge of cabin assignments, if that's okay with you? I can take you both down to the Crew Mess and you can figure those out and get into uniform. The rest of the crew should be arriving throughout the day," the Captain explained.
Quinn agreed, and Captain Schuester gestured to Kurt warmly, indicating for both crew members to follow him as he headed down towards the lower decks. Kurt cast one last glance at Blaine Anderson's application before setting it down on the desk in front of him, sliding out of his seat and wordlessly following the others.
The Crew Mess was small, and cramped, and entirely unremarkable compared to the rest of the boat- but it was homey enough, and Kurt had definitely seen worse. Captain Schuester handed them each a bag stuffed with carefully folded uniform and excused himself back to the Bridge with a smile, leaving Kurt alone with Quinn for the first time. The girl immediately turned to look at him, all business, a look of steely determination in her eyes. Kurt could tell just looking at her that she was experienced, and it was somewhat comforting, if a little intimidating, especially with a fairly inexperienced deck crew joining him.
"So," Quinn started, "about cabin assignments. I think it's probably best if you and I room together, as department heads. Is that okay with you?"
Kurt shrugged, nodding in confirmation- her tone suggested that that was the only acceptable answer anyway. So far, Quinn seemed okay. Intense, but okay, and Kurt figured sharing a room with her was easier- and potentially safer- than sharing with any of his Deckhands.
"Fine with me," he affirmed, "you don't snore, do you?"
Quinn cracked her first genuine smile, and she really was very pretty- high cheekbones and beautifully straight teeth, exactly the kind of girl Kurt was sure his entire deck crew would lust over. He could only hope that Quinn would be professional enough to rebuff any of their inevitable advances.
"No, I don't. And I hope you don't, either," she warned, her tone light-hearted and warm, a teasing spark in her eyes, "because I won't be impressed if you keep me up all night. I have an important job to do, you know. Unlike some people…"
He was about to answer, an indignant rebuttal dying on his lips when they were interrupted by the arrival of another girl, her entire personality immediately filling the tiny space as she bounded into the Crew Mess.
"Good morning," she announced enthusiastically, "Captain Schuester told me I would find you both down here. I'm Rachel Berry- I'm Second Stew. You must be Quinn, my Chief Stew. It's great to meet you! I'm going to hug you now!"
And with that the tiny, dark-haired girl threw herself at Quinn in a tight hug, ignoring the way the other girl stiffened in her grasp. Before Kurt could make any effort to move out of her path, she had tackled him too, earning an awkward pat on the back as an unimpressed Quinn looked on. Eventually, she released him, and he stood back in a daze, still coming to terms with the whirlwind that was Rachel Berry.
"I'm so excited to be here," Rachel enthused, "I just love being on boats. My dads used to sail before they had me, but they stopped because it wasn't safe for a baby- but they passed on their love for all things nautical, of course!"
Kurt glanced at Quinn, and bit back a laugh at the incredulous look on her face. It was almost comical, the way that the Chief Stewardess was glaring at her Second with barely concealed distaste, but Kurt had seen Stew-on-Stew fights get ugly before. He was just glad that it wasn't his department. As long as his Deckhands weren't quite as loud as Rachel Berry, then he was in with a good shot at success this charter season.
It was a while before the next crew member showed up- so long that Kurt had had time to escape to his cabin and put on his uniform- and this time a tall, Asian man with spiked hair who oozed calmness and serenity strolled into the Crew Mess, an easy-going smile on his face.
"Deckhand?" he asked hopefully, in lieu of greeting, wondering if this man looked more like a Finn, Noah or Blaine. The other man shook his head with a grin, holding up a bag of cooking utensils.
"Chef," he supplied, "I'm Mike."
Kurt smiled back, albeit warily- Mike seemed nice enough, but he was yet to meet a yacht Chef who wasn't completely insane. Coupled with the fact he was brandishing knives; Kurt had the right to be a little worried. He pointed Mike towards his cabin and settled down at the Crew Mess table, resting his chin on his palm as he watched the clock slowly ticking away the seconds.
He was getting impatient waiting for his deck crew to arrive, that familiar twisting creeping back into his stomach, his brain inventing wild scenarios- what if they had all been involved in coincidental but unrelated tragic accidents, and he was left without a crew?
He was on the verge of sending himself into an all-out panic when two crew members arrived at once, talking and laughing like old friends as they entered the Crew Mess. He stood up to greet them, trying to make himself as tall as possible to exert his authority- though it was no use, one of them towered over him anyway. Kurt supposed this must be Finn, his 6'3" Lead Deckhand. He was handsome in a classic way, tall and dark and strong with a kind, lopsided smile- and exactly the kind of guy Kurt knew he would have fallen head over heels for in high school. The other man was attractive too, Kurt supposed, in his own way, though the mohawk on his head bore too close a resemblance to roadkill for his liking.
"Hey man," Finn greeted holding up a fist in front of Kurt's face, "I'm Finn. You're the Bosun, right?"
Kurt nodded and blinked at the fist in front of him, bringing up his own to bump it lamely- he wasn't really a fist bump person, and he watched Finn's lips twitch in amusement at his poor effort. Beside him the other man snickered, and he turned to look at him, his face schooling into a neutral expression as Kurt's icy eyes found his.
"I'm Puck," he said, matter-of-factly, bringing his own fist up, and Kurt stifled a sigh as he bumped it with his own.
"Puck," he repeated, brow furrowing- he couldn't remember a Puck from the staff profiles, "like… A Midsummer Night's Dream, Puck?"
Puck looked at him like he had two heads, and one of them had just said something really, really stupid.
"Puck like…Puck. Like Puckerman," he explained, still eyeing Kurt warily, and Kurt remembered with a jolt that one of his Deckhands- Noah's- last names had been Puckerman. He felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he tried his best to look unaffected, but knew it was clear to see on his pale skin. He hated making a fool of himself, especially in front of his own Deckhands, and couldn't help the rising feeling of dread that he had gotten off on the wrong foot with both of them. He almost wished Rachel would swoop in and save him, distracting the other boys with her loud personality and louder voice (although, Quinn had disappeared into the cabins with Rachel a while ago, and though they had only known her for a short time, he couldn't quite guarantee that Quinn hadn't already stuffed her through a porthole and thrown her overboard).
He straightened up, trying to disguise his discomfort- he was the Bosun, after all. No matter what, he outranked them both, and he wasn't scared to pull rank if necessary.
"So, I'm sure Captain Schuester told you both," he began, "but I'm Kurt and I'm your Bosun. I'll have a proper meeting with all of you when the last Deckhand gets here, but for now you can take some uniform and go get unpacked. Finn, you'll be sharing a cabin with Mike, the Chef, and… Puck, you'll be rooming with the other Deckhand, Blaine."
"Sweeeet!" Puck enthused, "I get first pick- I call top bunk!"
Kurt plastered on a smile, showing his crew to their respective cabins before returning to his spot at the Crew Mess table. His own bag lay on his bed, still fully packed, but he couldn't bring himself to go unpack it until after his last Deckhand had arrived. No, he would sit here, and he would wait, because first impressions were important.
Blaine Anderson stood on the dock; eyes alight with wonder as he stared at the enormous boat in front of him. It dwarfed any other boat he had worked on by far, its huge stature almost intimidating as it towered over every other boat in the port.
He hadn't been scared to dive into working on a boat this size- despite his lack of experience in the industry, he knew he learned more by doing. He had never had trouble picking up new things, learning new skills with ease, cruising through high school and college with straight As. He had excelled in his yacht training too, and had impressed the Captain of his first boat so much that he had taken him onto his next vessel. He was still learning, but he was capable, that much he was sure of.
Except, now that he was here, M/Y Courage looming above him, he was beginning to worry that maybe, he wasn't.
She really was huge, the boat, so much bigger than any he had ever set foot on before. He took a deep breath as he hesitated at the passarelle, lifting a foot to take his first step onto his new home.
"Don't forget your shoes," a voice warned behind him, and he turned his head to see a pretty Asian girl, her long, dark hair falling into delicate curls around her face. He blushed, foot dropping back down to the solid concrete of the dock, embarrassed to have made such a rookie mistake in his haste to finally board the boat.
"R-right, of course," he agreed, shaking his head, brow furrowing, "I… can't believe I forgot about that."
"Hey, it's okay," the girl smiled, the gentle curve of her lips and sparkle in her eyes kind and welcoming, immediately putting him at ease, "there's a lot to remember in yachting, it gets kind of overwhelming sometimes. Are you pretty green?"
"Is it that obvious?" Blaine chuckled, "this is my third boat. But it's my biggest one yet."
The girl smiled again, kicking off her shoes and looking pointedly at Blaine until he did the same, laughing at the flush on his olive skin and the sheepish look on his face.
"Oh, so you're green green," she laughed, "this is my… 8th boat? I've been in yachting for… just over two years now. I'm Tina- I'm the Third Stew."
"Nice to meet you, Tina," Blaine greeted, his old private school charm immediately rising to the surface, "I'm Blaine."
"Likewise," Tina replied, "now how about we get on board?"
Blaine stepped back, gesturing for Tina to go first, before following her over the rickety passarelle and touching down onto the comforting firmness of the wooden deck, immediately awed by the lustrous stern, immaculate and shining and so expansive.
"We should probably go introduce ourselves to the Captain on the Bridge," Tina explained, starting towards the sliding glass doors leading to the Main Salon, "I'm sure he'll want to meet us. And then we'll probably head down to the Crew Mess to get cabin assignments and meet everyone else."
One thing that Blaine knew already was that he was grateful for Tina. He found himself uncharacteristically nervous meeting his new Captain, despite his warm welcome, and the Third Stew stepped in to save him as he floundered, before smiling at him encouragingly as the Captain quizzed him about his previous experience.
"I know you don't have much experience under your belt," Captain Schuester remarked, "but Captain Figgins speaks highly of you. We have a great crew on board this charter season- your Bosun, Kurt, is very capable. He knows his stuff, and I'm sure he and the rest of the crew will be happy to show you the ropes. If you ever need anything, this is where you'll find me. It means a lot to me to see my crew succeed, and progress in this industry. If you give it your best shot, I'm sure you'll have a successful season. Especially under Kurt's leadership."
"Thank you, sir. I'm grateful for this opportunity. I know I'm a little inexperienced, but I'm a quick learner, and a hard worker. I'm excited to prove myself to you and be an asset to your crew," Blaine responded, dark eyes open and earnest, his hands fidgeting in front of him the only indication of his nerves. The Captain nodded, smiling kindly, and there was something so comfortingly and unfamiliarly paternal in his manner that it was overwhelming- but now wasn't the time for Blaine to rehash his issues with his father, he had a job to do, and he had to do it well.
The Captain dismissed them both after a short conversation with Tina, and Blaine found himself trailing behind her as she led him to the Crew Mess deep in the lowest deck of the ship, staring around at the luxurious furniture and artwork and the sheer expanse of space that was so different to what he had become accustomed to.
They walked into the Galley together, and a tall Asian man in a white coat who Blaine assumed must be the Chef glanced up to meet them, an easy smile on his face- and he was pretty easy on the eyes, Blaine had to admit, skinny but athletic, perhaps built like a dancer, with spiked hair and deep, knowing dark eyes. A quick glance at Tina suggested that she was perhaps similarly intrigued, and he suppressed a chuckle as the other man dried his hands on a dishtowel and moved towards them, hand extended first to Tina and then to Blaine in a brief but firm shake.
"New arrivals?" he asked, "I'm Mike. I'm the Chef- well, obviously. The Chef coat is kind of a giveaway, huh? If you're looking for the Crew Mess, it's just through that door, and down the stairs. I think Kurt might be waiting for you down there."
Blaine thanked him, placing his hands on Tina's shoulders and gently guiding her towards the door the Chef had pointed out, giggling into the shell of her ear as he turned away and earning a discreet swat on the arm and a muffled giggle in response.
"Shut up," she hissed, "he's cute, okay?"
Blaine hummed in response, beginning the descent towards the Crew Mess, Tina just in front of him. The staircase was short and narrow, and they soon emerged into the small Crew Mess, a large table occupying most of the space, a thin corridor on the left leading to the cabins. The room was empty save for one other man, decked out in a navy polo shirt emblazoned with the ship's name in red. He glanced up as they entered the small space, and if Blaine had thought that Chef Mike was good looking- well, this boy put him to shame, with his coiffed chestnut hair, stormy blue eyes, and creamy alabaster skin. Blaine felt his pulse quicken, suddenly struck with the realisation that this must be his Bosun.
The other boy stood, straightening out in a fluid motion, his body slim and lithe and his movements graceful and measured. He was taller than Blaine, he noticed- not that that was hard- but not by too much, maybe an inch or two.
"Welcome to Motor Yacht Courage," he greeted, and even his voice was beautiful, high and clear and almost musical, and Blaine was sure he must be swooning- almost as sure as he was that being infatuated with his superior was completely inappropriate.
"Kurt," he blurted, extending a hand to the Bosun, watching his thin eyebrows knit together in confusion as he realised the implications of exactly what he had said, rushing to correct himself, "I mean- I'm not Kurt. You're Kurt."
Kurt raised an eyebrow, regarding Blaine coolly, looking entirely unimpressed, his pale lips pressed together and his blue eyes unreadable. He briefly grasped Blaine's hand in his own, the feeling of his soft hand sending tiny shockwaves over Blaine's skin that lingered much longer than his touch.
"I'm aware, thank you. And you must be Blaine."
"Y-yes, I am. Blaine Anderson," he garbled, "I… I meant that… that you must be Kurt, because Mike told us that Kurt would be down here, and you're the only one here. I didn't mean that I… well. You know what I meant."
Kurt didn't answer, his eyes flickering to Tina instead, the girl flashing a hesitant smile in response.
"Third Stew?" he asked, gesturing towards the cabins as Tina nodded, "Quinn is in the cabins with Rachel. Blonde, pretty, take no prisoners attitude. Can't miss her. And if you do… well, there's no missing Rachel. You'll understand when you meet her."
Tina nodded and drifted towards the cabins, sending Blaine one last encouraging smile over her shoulder, and then he was alone with his Bosun for the first time.
"You're rooming with Puck," Kurt stated bluntly, "grab a radio and some uniform from laundry and go unpack your stuff. We'll have a deck meeting in thirty minutes. Tell the others."
And with that he turned his back and walked towards the cabins before Blaine could even say a word, mind reeling as he struggled to comprehend the enigma that was Kurt.
Kurt stepped into his cabin, finally able to unpack the bag he had abandoned that morning. He had assumed he would feel at ease once his last Deckhand had arrived, but his shoulders were still stiff with tension and his jaw clenched into a frown.
He wasn't quite sure why, but something about Blaine Anderson just rubbed him the wrong way.
Objectively, the other boy was gorgeous, with thick, dark curls, tanned skin, and almost painfully earnest amber eyes- and, Kurt supposed, his awkwardness would normally be endearing. But there was just something that Kurt didn't like about Blaine. Maybe he was too enthusiastic, or too goofy, or maybe Kurt was just biased and too hung up on his lack of experience. Either way, the thought of working with Blaine for the rest of the charter season didn't exactly fill him with joy.
But he was a professional, and he would act like one. He would pair Blaine up with Finn, just like the Captain had suggested, and then he would hardly have to see him- out of sight, out of mind.
He started unpacking on autopilot. He hadn't brought much, too accustomed now to moving from boat to boat and travelling light. There was no sense in packing bags upon bags of clothes- he would be spending most of his time in uniform, and his precious days off would be few and far between. His small duffle containing a couple of modest but nice outfits for going out in was a far cry from his high school days of closets full of whatever designer clothes he could find cheap online or in thrift stores, but he put that down to growing up.
He wasn't one for knickknacks either, preferred not to carry around personal items besides his phone and his wallet, and the keys to his little apartment in Fort Lauderdale that he so rarely used, and that was only for practicality. The one constant that he insisted upon, that travelled with him everywhere, land and sea, was a worn, gilded gold frame- in it, a small, faded photograph of him staring happily into the camera as a child, flanked by his parents, his toothy smile identical to his mother's. It had been taken only months before his mom's death; the frame picked out by her at a kitschy antique store they had frequented together, and had made the journey to Florida with them when his dad had decided that Ohio just hurt too much.
From there it had taken pride of place on the mantle, until the day Kurt had returned to pack up the house after his father's sudden death. It was one of the few things he had decided to keep- the rest of the house's contents had been donated, too painful for him to rifle through alone. It had been with him ever since, his most prized possession.
It was the last item he unpacked, wrapped carefully in a thick sweatshirt, and he placed it on the tiny bedside table beside his bed. He would allow himself this one sentimentality. He figured he more than deserved it.
Glancing at his watch, he realised almost thirty minutes had passed since his conversation with Blaine, and it was time for his first deck meeting as Bosun. Time to show his crew what he was made of.
Taking a deep breath, he unclipped his radio from his waistband, lifting it to his lips and exhaling hard before pressing down the talk button firmly.
"Deck crew, deck crew, Kurt. Meet me on the Aft Deck for our first crew meeting in five minutes."
The radio crackled with static as a voice filtered through its tinny system.
"Copy for Blaine."
Kurt sighed, casting one last glance at the photograph on his bedside as he started on his way to the Aft Deck. One thing was for sure, this season was going to be an interesting one.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, any feedback would be super appreciated! I don't currently have any of the next chapter written, but aim to get on that ASAP. In the meantime- go watch Below Deck! :)