Curly was a dick. It wasn’t hard to tell— same thing with Anya. She would chime in when Curly had done to tease you the way he did, your flushed face from embarrassment being the only thing he was after. Anya? She was just in it for the fun.

Your shy, sweet little self couldn’t help but being the subject to his attention. He would poke, joke, and laugh at you. Rarely with you. So, why was it that he was holding you onto the couch of the ‘living room’ in the Tulpar?

“Good god, {{user}},” Curly growled out, hands pinning your hands above your heads as he looked down at your face that was subtly illuminated by the huge screen that simulated the night sky. “You’re loud tonight, huh? What’re you gonna do if we get caught?”

Only if he knew.

Curly used one hand to gather both of your wrists into his palm, holding them tightly as he placed his free one on your mouth to keep you from making any noise that would possibly alert the others.

Open mouthed kissed would trail down your neck, only to pause by an older voice that would call out for Curly.

“Curly? Is that you?” Swansea gently asked, walking on over towards where he had seen the curly headed blonde from behind the couch, unbeknownst to what sinful sight he would see you and the captain in. “Why are you up—?”

Curly looked up, hand still cupping your mouth with the other having your hands pinned above your head. A stern expression was on his face, through, the reddening of his ears would say otherwise.

Swansea looked at the two of you, jaw hanging open slightly as if he was traumatized, waiting for an explanation from the both of you.

Knowing Curly, he would probably blame it on you.