Three in a Tent

Author's Note: I wrote this chapter in response to a prompt from AwesomeAssFics. Hope you like it :)

Kurt hated camping but he loved Burt, so every year he psyched himself up to survive two days of disgustingly primitive conditions. Kurt was never going to understand how anyone could actually like bugs and dirt and public showers! Last year had been a little better; Finn liked doing all the boy things that Kurt despised, like wrestling with tent poles and building fires. Kurt had spent most of his time reading and roasting marshmallows. Finn had gone hiking with Burt, leaving Carole and Kurt to an afternoon of trading fashion magazines. Everyone was happy.

Puck sat in a cubicle in the school library, punching keys on his laptop at a furious rate. His English paper was due in 45 minutes. Puck didn't give a damn about that, but Kurt did. Kurt thought that Puck was all things good and brilliant, and Puck didn't want to disabuse him of that notion. God, he was so whipped!

Puck sat back with a sigh, and hit print. He checked his watch, 37 minutes. No problem. He was standing beside the printer, watching his pages spit out when Kurt found him. "Noah, I was wondering…"

Puck grabbed the papers from the printer, and kissed Kurt on the cheek. "Hold that thought, Babe, I'll be right back."

Puck walked back into the library to find Kurt leaning against a desk, texting. "You were wondering?"

Kurt put his phone away, and smiled. "Do you want to go camping with my family next weekend?"

Puck snorted. "Like you go camping."

The diva smoothed a hand over his hair. "FYI, I go camping every year."

The jock laughed. "Right! And you like it?"

"I didn't say I liked it." Kurt sighed. "My father loves it. It's important to him." The countertenor shrugged. "So, I go camping."

Kurt reached out a hand and hooked his fingers into Puck's belt, pulling him closer. "You want to sleep on the ground, get sand in your sheets, and get bitten by mosquitoes?

"How can I say no to an offer like that?" Puck grinned. "Do I get to share a sleeping bag with you?"

"Yeah, like my father would go for that!"

"Dad, I asked Puck to come camping with us. That's O.K., right?"

Burt put his fork down, surprised. "He wants to come?"

"Yeah, I warned him. I told him about the bugs, and the dirt, and the generally primitive conditions." Kurt grinned at Burt. "He said he'd pay good money to see me without my blow dryer."

Burt laughed. "Sure, there's room in the tent for the three of you."

Finn started to talk, but stopped when he saw Kurt's glare. He swallowed the food in his mouth. "I asked Rachel. She said…" Finn raised his fingers to form quotation marks. "Finn, I love you dearly but there are some things I just can't do!"

Kurt snorted. "I know exactly how she feels."

Burt, Finn and Puck set up the tents, while Carole and Kurt unpacked the car. The sky was blue, the trees were green, the birds were singing; picture post-card perfect. They ate lunch at the picnic table at their campsite. The boys left Burt and Carole lounging in the sun, while they checked out the campground. They found a basketball court, a pool, a video arcade, and a lake with pedal boats. Kurt staked out a chair by pool, while Finn and Puck shot hoops.

Kurt was listening to his iPod, almost asleep in the sun, when it started to rain over his chest. He opened his eyes to see Puck laughing down at him, water dripping from his fingers. "Wake up, sleeping beauty."

Kurt closed his eyes. "Go away."

Puck reached down and pulled Kurt to his feet. "Come on." The jock wrapped an arm around the diva's shoulder. "Finn's in the video arcade. Let's go destroy him."

An hour later, with Finn sufficiently humiliated, the boys were thinking about taking out a pedal boat when Finn's phone beeped, Carole's face on the screen. "Dinner's ready."

Finn pocketed his phone. "Food!"

Burt was pretty good with the Hibachi, if he said so himself. He was very proud of the fact that he could get everyone's burghers just exactly the degree of pink that they asked for. Carole got out the paper plates, and plastic cutlery. The boys helped put the food on the rickety wooden table. They sat around eating, talking, laughing.

Burt caught Carole's eye, he knew they were thinking the same thing. They had both suffered soul destroying loses, and now they were here. Here in the land of happy that Burt, for one, never thought he'd see again. They had each other, and the boys. Burt reached across the table, and held Carole's hand in his. This was one of those moments, they didn't come very often, and they never lasted long enough, but right now, right this second, life was perfect.

The sun set and even Kurt had to admit that it was spectacular, worlds above anything they could see in the city. Once the sun went down, it got cooler. They dug out their hoodies, and sat around the fire, roasting marshmallows. This was Kurt's specialty; he could get them perfectly toasty brown, just this side of burnt. Kurt acknowledged their compliments with a flamboyant bow. He might be a diva out in the wilds of nowhere but he was still a diva!

As the dark descended and the stars came out, it got spooky quiet. Instinctively, their voices lowered. They whispered to each other across the night. Burt and Carole retreated to their tent, and soon Finn was yawning. He said goodnight and ducked into the second tent. Kurt settled in closer to Puck, his head on the other boy's chest. They didn't say much, they didn't have to.

Puck whispered against Kurt's hair. "Let's go to bed."

Kurt tucked his head under Puck's chin. "No."

The jock had to smile; a sleepy Kurt was pretty cute. "If we sleep like this, we'll be bent and twisted in the morning."

The diva mumbled into Puck's neck. "Don't care."

"You will. And you'll blame me. Get up."

The boys were quiet as they stripped down to underwear and crawled into their sleeping bags. Kurt rolled onto his side and stretched out his hand until he found Puck's. They fell asleep, holding hands, to the romantic sound of Finn's snores.

Kurt pried his eyes open. Canvas walls; oh, god, he was camping! He closed his eyes. Maybe he'd just stay here all day. If he didn't get up, he wouldn't have to use the campground showers. Kurt groaned. He missed his sheets, and his own shower with the rain shower head that was just heaven. Camping sucked!

Eventually, hunger and curiosity got the better of him and he crawled out of the sleeping bag. Where was everyone? Kurt shrugged into his robe, grabbed a towel and his toiletry bag. He unzipped the tent, and looked around the empty campsite, blinking in the sun. Carole and Burt's mountain bikes were gone, so they were on a trail ride. In the centre of the picnic table, a couple of granola bars held a piece of paper in place. Kurt tore the wrapper open on one of the bars, and took a bite. He read the note: "AT THE LAKE".

20 minutes later, sunblock applied, sunglasses on his head, towel over his shoulder, Kurt wandered down to the lake. Puck saw him coming and swam over to the dock. "Coming in?"

"Are you insane? I can only imagine what kind of bacteria live in that water."

Puck pointed to a sign that read 'Safe for Swimming'.

Kurt snorted. "Right!" The diva pushed his sunglasses down. "I'll be at the pool."

When Puck got tired of trying to drown Finn in the lake, he rounded up his boyfriend and they took a pedal boat out. "Hummel, you actually have to pedal, you know."

Kurt lifted his sunglasses and stared at the jock. "Why? You're pedaling."

"Yes, and if you pedal to, we can go a lot faster."

Kurt smiled and settled more comfortably into his seat, very obviously not pedaling. "What's the rush?"

The jock glanced at the boy beside him, all perfect skin and long beautiful legs. "You know, Kurt, if you don't use the muscles in your legs they turn to fat."

"Hey, I dance!" Kurt protested but he sat up and started to pedal.

Puck turned away so Kurt wouldn't see him smirk. Did he know his diva, or what?

That night, after the roasted marshmallows, Puck took out his guitar. As the sky darkened and the stars came out, they sat around the campfire singing. They sang childhood favourites like "Puff the Magic Dragon", and "On Top of Old Smokey". They sang camp songs with weird lyrics like: "Great big globs of greasy grimy gopher guts, mutilated monkey meat, little chickens dirty feet. Great big globs of greasy grimy gopher guts, we forgot the spoons, but we had straws." They sang what Burt called Golden Oldies, and the Beatles, and Michael.

When the fire died down, and Puck's fingers were starting to cramp, they decided to call it a night. Burt held the tent flap open for Carole. "Night, guys."

The three boys ducked into their tent, and rolled into their sleeping bags. There was some rustling as they tried to get comfortable but no one spoke.

Kurt lay on his back, staring up at nothing. He couldn't sleep. His mind kept replaying images from their day; Puck in the pool, Puck in the lake, Puck laughing, Puck grinning as he stole the basketball from Finn, Puck's hands as he smoothed sunblock into skin, Puck lying in the sun. Kurt groaned. He had spent the day looking at his half-naked boyfriend, and now he wanted to touch. He was dying to feel Puck's skin beneath his fingers. And Puck was right there, barely 6 inches away from him…but, so was Finn. This was torture, absolute torture! Kurt groaned again.

"Babe?" Puck whispered. "You O.K.?"

Kurt turned his head towards Puck's voice. In the deep darkness of the tent, all he could see was a shadow. "No."

The jock shuffled his sleeping bag closer to the diva. "What's wrong?"

"You're inches away from me, and I can't touch you." Kurt whispered into the dark. "It's making me crazy!"

The sound of the zipper on Puck's sleeping bag was very loud in the silence of the tent. Then the zipper on Kurt's sleeping bag rasped into the stillness, and Puck's hand was on Kurt's face. His thumb traced the countertenor's lips. "Who said you couldn't touch me?"

Kurt was a starving man, and Puck was food. He was on the other boy in an instant, his hands everywhere, finally touching the body he had been hungering for all day. Their mouths found each other in the almost total blackness of the tent. Kurt rolled until Puck was under him. He shoved the other boy's boxers down and dug his hands into the jock's ass. Puck groaned into Kurt's mouth, spreading his legs. Kurt angled his hips, pressing into the boy beneath him, sliding their cocks together.

"Uh, guys." Finn cleared his throat.

"Shit!" Kurt scrambled off Puck.

"Hudson, what the fuck?" Puck dragged his boxers back up. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry, but listening to you guys is making me, uh, you know, and Rachel's not here."

"I could give you a hand, there, Finn."

"Noah!"

"Dude, gross!"

Puck laughed. "As dark as it is in here, you wouldn't know the difference between me and Rachel."

"Not funny, Puck." Finn thumped his pillow. "And I would know the difference."

Puck shifted around until he got comfortable, his head in Kurt's lap. "Well, yeah, my hands are pretty rough. Kurt could do it though, his hands are soft."

Kurt slapped Puck's shoulder. "I do not have girl hands!"

"I didn't say you did. I said you have soft skin"

"Wait, you're upset about Puck saying you have girl hands but you don't care that your boyfriend just suggested you give me a hand-job?"

"I didn't suggest he give you a hand-job. I said if he did, you couldn't tell the difference between his hands and Rachel's."

Kurt sniffed. "I'm going to take that as a compliment. Rachel has an excellent skin care routine. I know, I taught her."

"Kurt!" Finn almost growled in frustration. "You're missing the point."

"The point? Oh, you mean, why aren't I pissed at Puck for talking about me giving you a hand-job? Why would I be pissed? It's not like I've never thought about it."

Puck sat up fast. "Kurt!"

"Dude! Too much information."

Kurt laughed. "Calm down; both of you. I don't mean recently, I mean like a few years ago before we were related. You know, back when I had a crush on you."

Puck settled down in Kurt's lap again. "O.K. That's different."

"Really?"

"Finn, you know I had a crush on you."

"Well, yeah, but you know, straight guy so I tried not to think about it too much."

The tent was silent for a few minutes, and then Kurt spoke into the darkness. "Soft hands or not, I couldn't give you a hand–job or anything else. Rachel would kill me."

Puck sat up again. "What are you saying, Princess? The only reason you wouldn't do anything with Hudson is that Rachel would be pissed?"

"Yep."

"That Rachel would be pissed, not that you have a hot boyfriend and you wouldn't want to touch another boy with a ten foot pole?"

"Nope."

Puck pushed Kurt to the ground and straddled him. "You're a dead man, Hummel!"

Finn rolled over and buried his head under his pillow, which did nothing at all to block out Kurt's laughter.