Hey guys! So, I don't know about the rest of you, but I thought Rumours was AMAZING. Like, amazing amazing. I could ramble on about it for hours, but I've already been doing that all over the place for over a day now, so I'll just settle for saying that it was a really amazing episode – and it made me love Sam Evans SO much more than I already did!
…and my hopes are officially higher for Sam and Kurt than ever before :D
Anyway, I hope you like!
xox
degrassichick
In the City of Dreams
The McKinley High School glee club had not won Nationals. But, that was okay – at least, that's what everybody was telling themselves. Rachel had broken down in tears three times already since the competition had ended, and that had only been a few hours ago. But, the simple fact that they had made it to Nationals in the first place was more than enough to keep the majority of the glee club thrilled.
It was the night before their last day in New York and Mr. Schue had given it to them to spend however they pleased, so long as each and every one of them was checked back into their hotel by midnight so that they could get an ample amount of sleep before they caught their flight back to Ohio in the morning.
Sam Evans severely doubted that any of the glee club members would be doing that much sleeping – the only ones who had been sleeping much during this entire trip had been Kurt and Rachel, who were very set on the fact that their voices were only perfect after an set number of hours of sleep – but he was just happy to have the night to himself to explore New York.
He wouldn't be exploring it alone, however; he would be exploring it with Kurt. Throughout the rest of the trip, he had found himself hanging around his closest male friend and not so much around anyone else except for the occasional chat with Quinn or Finn and Rachel. Kurt had been the one who he'd been spending the majority of his time with, however. He'd stood by them while they were singing, chased after him while they were dancing, sat by him on the plane, bunked in the same room as him – Puck had already joked on numerous occasions that they were just a few seconds away from giving them a couple nickname…but then Rachel would always barge her way into the conversation by declaring that Kurt had a boyfriend and Quinn had already told them all that Sam wasn't gay.
When he'd first heard Rachel's comment about Quinn's statement, he'd been shocked that Quinn had told them that. He'd never asked her to tell them that – in fact, what he'd confided on her during one of her visits to his family's room was the complete opposite of what she'd told them all.
Quinn had been the first – and only, for that matter – person he'd confided in about being gay. She'd told him a couple of times (okay, nine) to tell Kurt about it. But, he couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to tell Kurt. He'd tried on numerous occasions, pretty much every time Kurt had stopped by the motel, but instead, random babblings always came out in his true confession's place.
"Kurt, I think I'm gay," had turned into, "Kurt, I think I'm going to go watch the Food Network."
"Kurt, I might have feelings for you," had become, "Kurt, I might have feelers out for this freshman who might be good in glee club."
"Kurt, are you sure you want to be with Blaine?" was all of a sudden, "Kurt, are you sure you want me to wear the plaid shirt tucked into the pants? I look like a cowboy...and not the cool kind."
No matter how hard he tried, he could not get the right words out – he was lucky he managed to get any words out at all.
But, tonight that was going to change. Tonight, the rest of the glee club was going to go see American Idiot on Broadway, which Kurt had claimed that he had no interest in seeing and Sam had been quick to follow suit with his declaration. Tonight, Kurt was all his and Blaine was over a thousand miles away. Tonight, he was going to get the right words out and lay them out in front of Kurt so that he didn't miss a thing. Tonight, things were going to change.
"While I think that the premise of an entire musical being based off of a single album is a phenomenal idea, I've just never had any true interest in Green Day," Kurt explained as they made their way across Rockefeller Center, each one of them holding an ice cream cone – Kurt's mint chocolate chip and Sam's dark chocolate raspberry (Sam had had to punch the idea of how amazing it would taste if they kissed as far out of his head as possible). He blinked over at Sam curiously. "I am surprised that you weren't interested in seeing it, though," he observed. "Aren't you a Green Day fan?"
Sam could feel his palms sweating, and he wasn't sure if he even knew what Kurt's question had been…or if he had asked a question at all. He just nodded back at him – nodding was always a safe move, right?
"Then why didn't you want to go?" Kurt pressed.
Kurt must have still been talking about American Idiot, Sam decided. He looked over at him and shrugged. "Well, you weren't going, and I'm not really that big into musicals anyway, so I just figured I'd hang out with you instead."
If it wasn't just the glow of the street lamps playing tricks on him, Sam could swear that he'd seen Kurt's face light up at the sound of his response. The brunette looked away quickly and nodded. "So, what do you want to do on this fine and final New York evening, Mr. Evans?"
Sam glanced at the crowd of people on the rink next to them, skating around and laughing. He felt a smile creep onto his face as he turned to look at Kurt and raised his eyebrows.
Kurt's face fell and he took a step back from him. "No," his voice was iced with mortified finality.
"Oh, come on. Who goes to New York and doesn't go skating at Rockefeller Center?" Sam egged him on.
"Kurt Hummel," he replied bluntly.
Sam latched onto his friend's arm without thinking much of it. He latched onto it like it was his natural movement – like he always grabbed onto his arm, like they were always touching in some way or another. "Come on, Kurt." He was grinning.
Kurt shook his head quickly and Sam took a step closer toward him, smiling goofily and doing all of these weird things with his eyes, rolling them around and trying to get a smile out of the boy.
It worked, but just barely. A smile quirked up on Kurt's lips and Sam took that as all of the answer he needed before he dragged him off to the rink.
"BUT IF I FALL THIS ICE CREAM IS GOING STRAIGHT INTO THAT HAIR OF YOURS. AND THEN YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO CUT IT ALL OFF AND YOU'LL CRY FOR DAYS ABOUT THE LOSS OF THE ONLY THING KEEPING YOU AND JUSTIN BIEBER IN A KINSHIP."
Sam quickly realized why Kurt had not wanted to go skating in Rockefeller Center, and that reason was that, while Kurt Hummel may be excellent at a plethora of things, roller skating was not one of those things.
Just five minutes into their skating session, Kurt had already fallen on his butt eight times, cursing Samuel Evans more and more with each and every tumble.
"That kid's skating circles around me!" Kurt moaned, pointing over to a girl of no older than five, who was twirling around with a boy who must have been her older brother. Sam smiled at the sight – she reminded him of Stacy.
It was Stacy, surprisingly, who had been the first one to accuse Sam of being in love with Kurt.
Kurt had been helping him pick out a tuxedo for prom since he'd sold the only one he'd had – and by "helping him pick out a tuxedo," it really meant that he ran around the discount suit shop like a madman on a mission and Sam just sat back with Stevie and Stacy and watched – and he'd been so caught up in watching Kurt's movements that he'd missed whatever it was that Stacy had been saying, and he'd missed it three times.
She'd looked between him and Kurt and a wide smile very similar to his own had sprouted on her lips. "You love him, Sammy. Don't you?"
Stevie shook his head after her before Sam had been given a chance to reply. "No, he looooooveees him," he'd cooed in response.
Sam hadn't even known how to respond, they were just kids for crying out loud! So, instead, he'd just ruffled their hair and tried to bite back the smile growing on his lips.
"Maybe skating is just not your thing, Kurt," Sam shrugged. He was smirking as he said it, knowing that it was going to elicit a less than pleasant response from Kurt.
Kurt glowered back at him, and the focus from the task at hand and onto Sam caused him to lose his balance. Sam caught onto his elbows to prevent him from falling and bruising his ass any further. "Everything is my thing, Samuel," the boy argued. "You should know that by now." He edged his way to the side railing and let out an audible, overdramatic sigh of relief when he reached the sturdiness. "I just don't think that people should roller skate unless there's absolutely no other mode of transportation left on the planet, and the only way the human race will survive is to wear ugly boots with four wheels on them."
"Wait until you discover rollerblading," Sam noted playfully. "You won't know what hit you."
Kurt rolled his eyes, and Sam couldn't get over the fact of how cute Kurt looked in his mink hat that looked like it came from a city in Russia in the 20th Century. If anyone could work a massive, black, furry hat, it was Kurt Hummel.
"God, I think my tailbone's broken," Kurt whimpered, nursing his back with his delicate hand.
Sam rolled his eyes and smiled, latching onto his elbow and hauling him off of the rink and to a bench on the side.
Kurt smiled at him gratefully as he bent down to unlace his skates. "You know, dear movie buff, I believe that a movie scene was filmed right here on this very bench."
"Serendipity," Sam replied instantly, before he realized that he'd just admitted to knowing the exact bench that a scene in a romantic Christmas film had been filmed on.
Kurt raised an eyebrow at him surprisingly but said nothing as he kicked his skates off and wiggled his toes from inside his socks. "Never again, Samuel. Never again."
"So, if I haul you back to New York for Christmas you won't go ice skating with me?"
Immediately, he wished he could have swallowed all of those words up. Had he really just proposed plans with Kurt involving bringing him back to New York for Christmas?
If Kurt was shocked by Sam's question, he didn't let it show. Instead, he glanced over at Sam and winked. "Even if you brought me here at Christmas, there's not a chance that I would ever get back on that rink." Sam tried to lighten up the situation with a smile when Kurt all of a sudden placed a hand on his shoulder. "But, if you took me to New York at Christmas, I'm sure there are a ton of other things we could find to do."
Sam tried not to smile too widely as the pair of them stood up and made their way to the kiosk to return their skates.
They spent the next hour and a half wandering aimlessly up and down Rockefeller Center and 5th Avenue. Kurt had gushed as they passed all of the lit up storefronts, but he didn't go inside any of them – he said he didn't need to, he was more than content with just seeing them from the outside.
"When I'm here on Broadway and winning more Tonys than Rachel, I'll live inside of Chanel and Barney's," Kurt declared with a mystified smile on his face. "But, until then, I'm more than content with just window shopping." He stared down at the cracks in the sidewalk and let out a sad little sigh. "Blaine tells me that I should focus on getting community theater jobs before trying for Broadway."
Sam had to forcibly unclench his fist from his side. He had never liked Blaine. He hadn't liked him at Sectionals, he hadn't liked him when he'd gave him a look of condescension when he'd delivered a pizza to Dalton and Kurt had pulled him into a hug simply out of shock that he was seeing a familiar face at his new school. He hadn't liked him when he'd obnoxiously brought the entire Warbler choir to sing on Kurt's first day back at McKinley, and he definitely hadn't liked him when he'd brought up the fact that he didn't like the kilt that Kurt had worn to prom seven times during the dance. And now, Kurt was telling him that Blaine was trying to encourage Kurt to shoot for less than he deserved? What did everybody see in this guy?
"He's just jealous," Sam argued defensively.
Kurt shook his head. "No, he's realistic. Big difference."
Sam grabbed onto Kurt's forearm to stop him from going any further and spun him around to face him, all of the confidence in the world building up inside of him during this very moment. "You're one of the most amazing performers I have ever seen Kurt, and there are so many people that could only dream of having a voice like yours. Don't ever let him make you out to be less than you are."
Kurt seemed surprised by the aggression and anguish behind Sam's words. "Is this when you tell me that no one can make me feel inferior without my consent?"
"It would be if you hadn't actually given him your consent, but you haven't done very much to argue against him as of yet." Whoa. Where had that come from?
Kurt's eyes widened. "Pardon me?"
"You never tell him to quit acting like he's so much better than you, Kurt. You let him steal the spotlight, and you let everybody in glee club fawn all over him like he's God gift to the music industry. While you were at Dalton, you were always shoved into the background. And you deserve to be in the spotlight more than anyone, Kurt. If you don't realize that, then you're not who I thought you were."
He could see the tears glossing over in Kurt's eyes. When Kurt caught Sam's green eyes on his brown ones, he looked away quickly, focusing on a flier on a telephone pole. "You really think that?" his voice was soft and shaking.
"Of course I do."
Kurt dragged his eyes back to Sam and it took his mouth a few turns of opening and closing to get his words out. "Sam."
That was all he said, just his name.
This was it. This was the moment he'd been waiting for. Everything had been leading up to this moment right here, right now.
But, before he could say anything, Kurt had sucked in a deep breath and kept speaking. "I'd overheard you talking to Finn earlier today about how you didn't want to see American Idiot," he claimed. Sam's heart started to hammer and he stared at him with wide, open, anticipating eyes. "I already had my ticket bought, but I thought it'd be more fun to hang around New York with you…so I said I didn't want to go, because I knew that you weren't going to be going."
Sam's knees buckled. Had that really just happened? Had Kurt Hummel really just said that to him? He'd had the exact same motives that he had? He sucked in a deep, excited breath and tried to keep the nervous, goofy smile off of his face – this was supposed to be a serious, sincere moment and the moment to speak up was now. Right now.
"Listen, Kurt," his words started out slowly, like a foal getting up on its legs for the first time. "These past few months, you've become my best friend…and I haven't had one of those in a really long time. And really, I don't know when it happened, not exactly, but something changed. And now I just…" his words drifted off as he caught sight of a very familiar face appearing behind Kurt.
Of course. Of fucking course he would be here – what with him not even being in the competition and all. It made perfect sense for him to be here.
"Sam?" Kurt asked confusingly. His eyes looked pleading and desperate, like he'd been lapping up each and every one of Sam's words like water and he was thirsty for more.
That was when Blaine's hands flew over Kurt's eyes and he cried out, "SURPRISE!"
Kurt looked stunned and dumbfounded as he spun around and saw Blaine standing in front of him. His arms flew around his boyfriend and Sam wanted to shrink back into the brick wall behind him. He didn't want to be here. How stupid had he been to say anything in the first place? How naïve had he been to think that Kurt felt the same way about him that he did? He had a boyfriend, and he was the president of said boyfriend's fan club – there was no way he was going to give up that relationship for…him. He could practically hear Kurt telling him, "Oh, Sam, you're really sweet, but you're just a friend," already.
He couldn't stomach it. He couldn't stomach Kurt calling him "just a friend." He couldn't do that because it felt like so much more than that.
Blaine looked over at Sam and smirked patronizingly, holding out a hand to him. "Thanks for keeping an eye on this one. I'm sure he talked your ear off about Broadway and designers, right?"
Sam had to tell himself to keep his palms open and his fists unclenched – why did he think that that was all Kurt was good for? Kurt had the biggest heart out of anybody that Sam had ever known. He dropped out of doing a duet with Sam (a duet that Sam had been really excited about, as a matter of fact) because he didn't want Sam to get pushed around by anybody like he did. He brought Sam clothes when his dad lost his job and he took the time into considering each and every article he gave him, making sure that Sam would look good and be comfortable in what he was wearing. He played with Stevie and Stacy and he stuck up for people. He kept his head held high no matter what shit was dealt in his direction. He was fearless. And yet, Blaine pounded him down to a guy who talked about Broadway shows and designers?
Blaine peered at Kurt's hat and cringed, but tried to cover it up with a smile. "I guess it's a good thing you're wearing this hat in New York, right? It'd never cut it in Lima." He was laughing, but nobody else was.
Kurt glanced over at Sam uneasily, and Sam just shook his head back at them.
"I love his hat, I think he looks amazing in it," he snapped before brushing past them and making his way back to the hotel with his head bowed.
He was such an idiot for think he'd ever stood a chance.
Sam settled into his window seat the next morning, his iPod earbuds jammed into his ears as he blasted the newest Death Cab for Cutie and prayed that the rest of the New Directions would just take the hint and ignore him.
He hadn't seen Kurt again last night. He'd only seen him in brief passing this morning, as they'd all boarded the shuttle to JFK. Kurt had made a few moves to go sit by him and talk, but he was always snagged up by Mercedes or Rachel before had the chance.
"What's up with emo kid over there?" he heard Santana ask obnoxiously in the few moments of silence between sons.
Sam rolled his eyes and looked out the window at the tarmac and the New York skyline far off in the distance. He wished he'd never said anything to Kurt. He wished Kurt would sit by him on the way home and they'd just talk about movies and summer plans like they'd talked about on the way to New York; he wished they'd talked like they'd been talking for the past few months. e hadn't even been away from him for twelve hours, and he already missed him. He missed him because he knew that things were never going to be the same between them ever again because he'd gone and opened his mouth and fucked things up between him and Kurt for good.
He felt an item plop in his lap all of a sudden and he sat up curiously.
Sitting in his lap was a book, and the title of it read: "So, You Want to Overcome Your Fear of Ice Skating?" and the picture on the cover was of Rockefeller Center at Christmastime.
Sam stared down at the book in front of him with a ridiculously goofy, confused smile on his face. If this meant what he thought it meant…
"I figure I might as well read it before we head back here for Christmas," Kurt explained simply as he slid into the middle seat next to Sam and buckled his seatbelt. "I'll be damned if a five-year-old out skates me again."
Sam, not able to think of a single word to say, smiled at Kurt and Kurt smiled right back before grabbing Sam's hand just like Sam had grabbed his arm last night – like it was a natural movement, like it was something he'd always done and always would do.
And then he laced his fingers through Sam's and waited for departure.
The End!
I hope you liked it!
xox
degrassichick
