Title: Like April Ludgate
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Blaine is drunk, Kurt is not, and Sam is not quite as straight as everyone thought.
A/N: This takes place at the Rachel Berry House Party Train-wreck Extravaganza (ie; BIOTA) and then veers off from there. It is unbetaed because I do not have a beta. Mostly this fic is getting the boys together, beyond that I really couldn't think where exactly to take this, and I'm in the middle of writing a now 20,000+ Klaine fic, so I didn't want to spend a ton of time of this - especially when I have no clue how many people would even be interested in it in the first place. My plans are this: when the mood hits, I'll write more scenes. I have some ideas, just not an overreaching arc. Lastly, if you don't know who April Ludgate is, kill yourself!
..o.o.o..
"Kurt…Kurt…"
Blaine drapes a heavy arm around Kurt's shoulder, leaning in too close for comfort as far as Kurt's concerned, because Blaine's mouth is right up against his ear and the shiver going down Kurt's back is much too pleasant.
"Kuuuurt," Blaine continues, practically frenching his ear as he speaks. "Why didn't you tell me Sam Evans is so cute!"
Blaine breaks into a small fit of giggles, and Kurt wishes Blaine could see the absolute withering look on his face. He'd seen Blaine over in the corner talking animatedly with Sam for the past twenty minutes but hadn't thought much of it.
"Sam Evans," Kurt says, none too gently, "is so straight."
"No," Blaine says. This news is apparently the shocker of the night by the way Blaine's eyes have gone comically wide.
"Yes." Kurt pats Blaine consolingly on the shoulder. "Believe me, I tried."
"You did?" Blaine is looking at him in a way that makes Kurt want to look away. For all that Blaine's trashed, these flashes of lucidity are sending Kurt mixed messages. "When?"
Kurt sighs, because yes, let's bring up yet another time Kurt Hummel was rejected. It's especially fitting that it's being done by one of the aforementioned rejecters themselves. "At the beginning of the school year."
Blaine's face scrunches up. "But how hard did you try?"
Kurt is starting to feel extremely exasperated. "I don't know. I was going to sing a duet with him, but Finn told me to back off…"
Blaine gasps. "Cock-block!"
It's loud. Kurt glances around, but only Mercedes and Tina seem to have heard and they collapse in on each other, laughing.
Kurt's eye twitches. "Blaine, honestly." He smooths his hands down imaginary wrinkles in his shirt. "It was for the best. Sam is straight, there was nothing to be done."
"Mmm," the hum is drawn out as Blaine's gaze searches the room and lands on Sam. "No. I think maybe Finn was wrong."
Kurt blinks. He hadn't questioned Finn back then, because of course Sam was straight. Everyone was straight. And then there had been Quinn and Sam&Quinn and that was that.
"I think," Blaine continues, leaning in extra close, "that there's some leeway."
"Leeway?"
"Mmmhm. Leeway."
O-kay. Clearly Kurt has to be more direct when asking for clarification. "What are you talking about, Blaine?"
"I think Sam's trying too hard," Blaine says.
"At?"
"Being straight," Blaine says, the duh very heavily implied. "Or he's bi. Could be bi."
Kurt rolls his eyes, because the possibility of that seems very unlikely. Still…to be honest, he never was quite able to shake those first uncertain vibes about Sam Evans' sexuality.
No, this is ridiculous.
Kurt takes Blaine's cup from his hand, head tipping back to drink. It burns and he winces and passes it back. Blaine is looking at him curiously. "So," Kurt says, "what would you propose to do about it? Are you going to ask him out on a date? Or maybe you're going to serenade him right here in front of all his friends, including his girlfriend. I'm sure you can find something fitting by Katy Perry."
Blaine's looking at him like he's just kicked his puppy. Or maybe Blaine is that puppy and Kurt just kicked him. "Kurt…we're friends…"
Yeah, no. He's going to need to keep that drink.
"I know that," Kurt says, snatching the cup back and forcing more bitter liquid down his throat.
"So—"
"You know what it was for me?" Kurt interjects. Because he can't have this conversation. Not here, not like this. Time to get Blaine thinking about something else. "The hair. What straight football player styles his hair like that? That's what I want to know."
Blaine is easily distracted in such a state as Kurt had hoped, and looks back to Sam. "Oh…"
"Not to mention…" Kurt looks at Sam, lips resting against the lip of the cup. "That mouth."
Kurt and Blaine sigh in unison, because there is a word for a mouth like that. It's a word Kurt isn't completely comfortable saying at this juncture, but nonetheless it is a descriptive that seems to have been made for Sam.
Kurt hasn't thought about Sam in awhile now. Being shut down like that by Finn had taken away every ounce of possible excitement at having a crush, at the possibility of that crush actually developing into something real. Finn's reminder that every boy Kurt set his sights on was straight, and thus unattainable, was a wake-up call. He had become very good at ignoring the resentment he felt toward Finn because of it because he knows Finn meant well. It was for Kurt's own good, wasn't it? What good does it do to pursue something that will never happen? Worse, how damaging would it be to push a boy out of his comfort zone because Kurt had feelings for him that couldn't be reciprocated? He'd been there once and it'd almost ruined a friendship. Why go through it twice?
His train of thought is broken by a shrill call for Spin The Bottle.
Blaine squeals, squeals, in delight, grabs Kurt's arm and drags him over to the already forming circle and all Kurt can think is, oh, this will end well.
As the game begins, loudly and enthusiastically, Kurt does his absolute best to finish the beer he'd taken from Blaine. Forget impressing anyone, right now what he needs is sweet oblivion. Kurt isn't keen on drinking, not after that unfortunate incident involving Ms. Pillsbury, but something has to help get him through the rest of this party.
He isn't paying a whole lot of attention (because honestly, watching Tina and Puck kiss is not on his bucket list), focused instead on licking that last tiny bit of alcohol from the inside wall of his cup, when he hears a collective gasp followed by scandalized oohs. This isn't the first time, Rachel and Brittany had gotten their fair share of oohs, but this is different. Enough so that his eyes flick up, only to find everyone looking at him.
"Hm?" Kurt raises an eyebrow. He's already dizzy from having such a pitifully low tolerance level, but he welcomes it, especially when he sees the bottle pointed at him. "…Oh. Well, then."
He can't help it and glances at Blaine, wondering, hoping. Blaine is looking at him with this dumbfounded expression on his face, something strange Kurt isn't sure he's seen before, and his heart skips a little beat, because…does this mean?...
"We don't have to," comes a different voice. Male, kind. Sam. "If you don't want to."
Sam's dumb, puppy smile is trained on Kurt, and he's scooting closer, eyes hooded and hair slightly mussed. Kurt can't help but wonder how much he's had to drink.
"It's the rules," Kurt says, his voice coming out embarrassingly high and breathy, and that seems to be all the permission Sam needs, because then he's kissing him.
The kiss starts soft, uncertain, and Kurt lets out this little involuntary sound because oh sweet jesus he's kissing a boy and Sam's lips are warm and infinitely soft, and wow. Wow. Kurt's eyes close, the dizziness almost overwhelming him to the point that he grabs at Sam's shirt to steady himself. He very nearly overbalances, but feels a strong, steady hand against his back. It can't be Sam's, because Sam's hands are in his hair, and oh, there's his tongue.
Kurt's lips part, allowing entrance, and Sam moans in response and very nearly crawls on top of Kurt to deepen the kiss. There's this tiny muffled squeak from Kurt and he's tipping backwards, knocking into someone else, another body, and that is definitely a sign that this has gone too far, even though Sam tastes so good, feels so good kissing him like this.
It's Sam who pulls away, and the sounds of the party, loud and obnoxious, slowly filter back into consciousness. Sam's face is flushed and pleased and Kurt raises a hand to wipe at his mouth, but he's already unbalanced and half-sprawled on someone's lap, oh god, and he cranes his neck and sees that it's Blaine and oh god.
Kurt quickly looks away, and Santana is shrieking at Sam in Spanish. Quinn is holding her back and Sam's hands fly up, palms outward, assuring her it's a game, it's just a game!, and Blaine drags Kurt gently backwards, away from the fray.
All attention is on Santana and Sam so Kurt dares a look at Blaine, cheeks flushed from more than the kiss. Blaine is staring at him and Kurt doesn't miss the way his eyes flicker down to Kurt's mouth.
He feels something dangerous unfurl inside, the aftereffects of making out with a boy and the beer turning everything fuzzy, and he licks the taste of Sam and alcohol from his bottom lip.
Blaine bites his own, says, "How was it?"
"Good," Kurt says, honestly. Pauses. "Have you ever…"
"Once." Blaine's cheeks color.
Of course he has. Who wouldn't kiss Blaine Anderson?
"I always thought it would be you," Kurt admits, doesn't even know why he says it.
Blaine doesn't say anything at all and Kurt starts to sit up. The booze negates embarrassment, but he recognizes when he's no longer welcome. Except for how he apparently doesn't, because Blaine's head dips down and catches his mouth with his. Kurt lets out a strangled sound of surprise and grabs at Blaine, kissing back without hesitation. Blaine's arms wind around Kurt's waist, bringing him closer, hums his approval. The kiss is hot, and electric, and-
The moment is broken when another body winds its way behind them, knocking them apart.
"Hide me!"
Kurt clutches at Blaine's shoulders, looking behind him in confusion. It's Sam, trying to hide behind the human lump that is Blaine and Kurt. "Santana's trying to kill me," he hisses, nudging his head under Blaine's arm, nose smushed against Kurt's side.
Kurt blinks and cranes his head to see, watches as Finn and Puck try to wrangle a cursing, crying Santana upstairs. Brittany, clutching her hands to her mouth, watches from the bottom of the stairs with wide eyes.
"Le mataré ambos!" Santana screams, eyes flashing at Kurt, before she's through the door and out of sight.
Blaine starts to giggle, then Sam joins in, head tucked under Blaine's armpit. Kurt isn't so drunk that he can laugh at a murderous Santana - though, he reflects, he's apparently inebriated enough to kiss two boys in one night. Or maybe he's just gone insane.
The party starts to break up. Finn, as a designated driver, is taking several people with him, a few are apparently close enough to walk, and the rest are all crashing at Rachel's. Kurt was meant to drive himself and Blaine home, and though he hasn't had an extreme amount of beer, he doesn't trust himself to drive.
Plus, he's still tangled up in Blaine and Sam.
"Um…I think it's safe to get up now," Kurt says.
Blaine whines. "But it's so snuggly."
"Yes, well," Kurt says, starting to blush.
"But I didn't get to kiss Blaine yet!" Sam says, crawling between them and making Blaine laugh.
"W—are we taking turns?" Kurt asks. "Sam, you aren't even gay."
Sam's lower lip sticks out in what Kurt thinks may be an attempted pout. "But I liked kissing you."
Kurt wonders if he'll ever stop blushing at this rate. "I think you're just drunk, and...and you just broke up with Quinn, so…"
"You guys can crash here if you want," Rachel says, startling Kurt because he hadn't noticed her approaching them. She hiccups and ungracefully covers her mouth with the back of her hand. "There's a guest room upstairs, it has a—" hiccup"—blue bedspread."
"Maybe I should just try to drive," Kurt says, but when he moves to stand he wobbles a little.
"Let's just stay here, Kurt," Blaine says, disentangling himself from Sam just enough to try and get up himself. "If we go home like this our parents'll kill us."
"I think…I think I'm gonna—" Rachel stumbles away toward the basement bathroom and Kurt winces. Mercedes goes in after her, and Kurt looks back to Blaine and Sam.
Blaine is holding Sam by the ass, and Sam's tongue is in Blaine's mouth.
Okay, then.
Kurt can't even find it in his heart to be jealous, not when they look so pretty and perfect together. Sam, tall and muscular and fair, and Blaine, dark and stocky and short. Not too short, just the right height where you don't have to bend down so very much to kiss him, Kurt bets.
Kurt rubs at his tired eyes, runs a hand through his hair so it doesn't look too messy, and shuffles to the stairs. He'll just sleep it off, take Blaine home in the morning and pretend none of this ever happened.
He makes it upstairs without incident and finds the spare bedroom blessedly empty. He sheds his tie, suspender strap, belt, and with just a small struggle, his boots, and crawls underneath the covers. A minute passes and yeah, buzzed or not there's no way he's going to be able to fall asleep in skinny jeans, so those are the next to go.
Kurt is just settling back into bed when the door opens. "This room is taken," he calls out, covering his bare legs with the comforter.
"Kurt?" It's Blaine, and he doesn't wait for an answer before coming inside. "You were lost…"
Kurt rolls his eyes. "Go find somewhere else to sleep," he says, willing Blaine to stay away while he's pantsless.
But Blaine ignores him and calls over his shoulder. "In here!"
"Blaine!"
Sam appears behind Blaine and ushers him inside. "Rachel's house is huge."
"It's very nice," Blaine is saying, and sits down on the bed next to Kurt to pull his shoes off.
"Excuse me but what is happening here?" Kurt says, starting to panic.
Blaine blinks owlishly at him. "I thought we were going to sleep."
"The party's over, Kurt," Sam informs him like he doesn't already know.
"I realize that, but—"
"Rachel said we could sleep in here," Blaine says, tipping backwards across Kurt's legs to pull his jeans off.
"Move over," Sam says to Blaine, and Blaine playfully kicks out with his leg.
"Nuh-uh," Blaine says, "go to the other side."
Kurt clutches the blanket to his chin. "This is not okay."
Blaine and Sam ignore him as they shed various articles of clothing, and it's an actual physical struggle to get Sam to keep his shirt on because Kurt can only take so much and his resolve is already slipping away. Especially when Blaine and Sam settle into bed on either side of him, and it's a snug fit because this bed, like most beds, isn't exactly made for three nearly full grown people.
Sam is snuffling into his neck, and Blaine's fingers are idly tracing his wristbone, and Kurt wants to scream because what is this? Some kind of gay man's wet dream, right here with him in the middle? It's too much, but he's too tired to do a thing about it.
"Fine," Kurt concedes, "I'll just let you both have your breakdowns tomorrow."
..o.o.o..
Kurt wakes up to the sound of retching.
With a tiny groan he moves to sit up and look, but oh. Oh yeah. Blaine's arm is around him, face pressed to his back. Kurt feels panicky and warm all at once, but it's that awful retching sound that drags him from further thought.
Sam is curled on the floor, bent over a small trashcan, and Kurt supposes that answers yesterdays question of how much alcohol he'd had. Sam also apparently did take his shirt off at some point last night, as he sits clad only in a pair of black boxers. Kurt's eyes trace the path his spine makes until it dips below the waistband of his boxers, jerks his gaze away. Sam is his friend.
Kurt swears softly under his breath, stares up at the ceiling a moment before he gently disentangles himself from Blaine. Blaine mumbles something unintelligible, reaches an arm out, falls back asleep.
Kurt climbs out of bed and crouches down next to Sam. He raises a hand as though to rest on Sam's back, thinks better of it at the last second and withdraws.
"Sam?"
Sam nearly falls, a startled look on his face when he turns his head to look at Kurt. "Oh, geez, you scared me."
He's blushing and Kurt can't help but wonder if it's from embarrassment or because they're both in their underwear. "Let's get you to a bathroom, hm?" Kurt says, reaching for Sam's hand.
"I'm not sure moving's such a great idea," Sam says.
"Well, sitting here breathing in the stench of vomit surely can't help," Kurt snaps, helping haul Sam up until he's standing. Sam makes this little whimpering sound, but Kurt refuses to feel any sympathy. No one made Blaine and Sam drink themselves into horrible boys who kiss other boys and ruin everything.
Sam all but drapes himself on Kurt's side, which, god, all that warm skin and muscle and Kurt dearly wishes he could enjoy it. Life truly isn't fair, he thinks, walking Sam slowly down the hallway.
It's a nice bathroom, sea green and light pinks and Brittany asleep in the bathtub. Kurt sighs at the state of his friends and drops Sam onto the floor next to the toilet. "Here you are. Make sure not to puke on the rug, Rachel will kill you," Kurt says in a sing-song voice. "And remember to drink plenty of water."
"Thanks, Kurt," Sam says, and Kurt looks long enough to see a feeble smile before turning.
"Sure, Sam."
Kurt leaves the bathroom and it might as well be a funeral march for all he feels on the way back to the guest bedroom.
Blaine is still in bed, rolled onto his stomach so all Kurt can make out is his hair, flattened and messy from sleep. He isn't moving, so Kurt sweeps in, grabs his clothes up. He'll leave before Blaine wakes up, make up some excuse about his dad needing him, let Rachel drive Blaine back to Westerville. He's just tying up his right boot when he hears his name. He freezes, closes his eyes a moment. "Go back to sleep, Blaine."
"God, my head," Blaine says.
Kurt dares a look and Blaine is sitting up, eyes closed, rubbing at his forehead. Kurt rolls his eyes. "What did you expect to happen after you drank your weight in beer?"
"S'probably actually the vodka," Blaine groans, and Kurt wants to throttle him. "I'm sorry, Kurt—"
"Look, Blaine, I have to go. If you ask, I'm sure Rachel would be happy to take you home, so…"
"Kurt, no, I…I can get ready. Just give me a minute," Blaine says, and he sounds so damn worried. Kurt bites the inside of his cheek, hating himself for doing as Blaine says.
"Just. Hurry," Kurt says, hates, hates, hates himself.
Blaine is wearing a pair of dark red boxer briefs, Kurt notes, trying and failing not to look. He makes himself look away when Blaine fumbles with his pants, wishes he could turn off the way just the mere sight of Blaine makes Kurt want to kiss him. He has a feeling last night is the last time he'll have kissed Blaine Anderson.
"Ready," Blaine says.
"Can you walk?" Kurt asks, thinking of Sam.
"Uh, yeah. I mean, my head hurts, but I can move," Blaine says. "But, I have to pee. I'm sorry to be taking so long, but—"
"It's fine." Kurt steps through the door so Blaine will get moving and follow. "But you'll have to use the downstairs one. This floors' is occupied."
The fresh air feels good once they finally make it outside. Kurt suspects he doesn't feel half as bad as Blaine or Sam, but there is a queasiness to his stomach and a heaviness to his head. He makes Blaine swear not to puke in his car and drives five under the speed limit just in case.
The trip to Westerville is mostly silent. Kurt won't say a thing and won't even turn the radio on, not taking the chance of adding to Blaine's headache and tempting a messy reaction. Blaine apologizes when he gets in the car and once more when they're almost to Westerville, forehead pressed against the window. Just, I'm sorry, out of nowhere, and again when Kurt drops him off. Kurt says it's fine when of course it isn't. He doesn't want apologies. He doesn't want Blaine to be sorry at all.
..o.o.o..
Things between them are strained after that. It isn't such a big deal with Sam. Kurt had never been close with Sam, and what's more with Kurt at Dalton and Sam at McKinley, it isn't like they ever have to see each other. Blaine, on the other hand, is in two of his classes and of course the Warblers. Kurt feels Blaine's absence like a hole in his chest. He was Kurt's support, he was Kurt's best friend, and now? Now Kurt can hardly bring himself to look at Blaine.
Blaine tries to talk to Kurt, but Kurt avoids him. He uses every single excuse he can come up with to duck out of potential conversations, to make sure he and Blaine are never alone together. He can tell Blaine is frustrated, but Kurt can't. He just can't handle Blaine's rejection after that kiss. It's better, somehow, to ignore it, keep a polite distance, even pretend it never happened at all.
What he doesn't tell anyone is that he thinks about Blaine all the time. Which, okay, not so different from normal, but it's escalated. Now that he knows. Now that Sam is in the mix. He thinks about how absolutely perfect their mouths felt against his, how amazing their hands felt when they touched him. Kurt has always felt nervous about sex, so he doesn't allow his thoughts to stray much further. Instead he imagines dates, a night out, dressed up in something expensive. Kurt imagines Blaine on his arm, sparkling eyes and a charming smile, so beautiful in the moonlight. Sometimes he even imagines Sam with an arm around him, smiling because of something Kurt said.
It doesn't matter, though, because he hasn't spoken much beyond pleasantries with Blaine in weeks, and every e-mail from Sam gets deleted, every text or phone call ignored. It doesn't matter that sometimes it hurts so badly he feels it like a physical ache. It doesn't matter, because Kurt will always, first and foremost, protect himself.
..o.o.o..
That Thursday night Mercedes calls him and invites him to dinner the following day. He doesn't particularly want to go, lately he hasn't felt like doing much of anything at all, but she was at the damn party and she knows and she's been on his case ever since. If he doesn't make some effort to get out of the house and socialize she'll just get worse about it, so he agrees.
Despite his mood he dresses in one of his best outfits, because he always dresses his best, and gets to Applebee's about ten minutes late.
"Jones party, please," he tells the waitress. He follows her to the back of the restaurant and stops short when he sees who's sitting in the booth.
"Kurt…" Blaine smiles tentatively at him.
Sam's smile is less unsure. "Hi, Kurt. We were beginning to wonder if you were going to show up."
Kurt just stands there for a good long moment. He has something positively scathing to reply with, but keeps it to himself because the waitress is still just lurking. "Where's Mercedes?" he says instead, and notices he has a choice of who to sit by. He chooses Blaine so he doesn't have to look at him, and primly slides into the booth.
"Um, she's not coming. Blaine said we probably couldn't get you here any other way, so—"
"So you tricked me here? Can I help you?" he snaps at the waitress, because he's tired of her staring.
The waitress' jaw drops and she gives him a pissy look. "You ready to order yet?"
"No."
"Yes," Blaine says at the same time.
Kurt stares at him. Blaine ducks his head, guilty.
"Fine," Kurt says, and glances at his menu while Blaine and Sam order. It isn't like Applebee's is some sort of smorgasbord of choices. "Chicken salad," he says when it's his turn, "and iced tea, please."
God, he hopes no one spits in his food.
"This was my idea, but I didn't mean it as a trick, Kurt," Sam speaks up when the waitress leaves. He's looking mostly at Kurt, an unusually serious expression on his face. It makes the anger Kurt's been holding inside veer into anxiety, makes him shift uncomfortably in his seat. "I've been talking to Blaine a little, uh, since the party, and he said you were avoiding him. And you've been ignoring me, so. The thing is, I want to talk to both of you."
Kurt glances at Blaine, but Blaine is very deliberately not looking at him.
"Well, go on," Kurt prompts, trying to ignore the nervous knot in his stomach.
"Okay…" Sam appears to take a deep breath, and this time when he speaks his gaze doesn't linger on either of them for a good length of time. "First, I broke up with Santana. It was…I was only dating her because I was pissed off at Quinn, anyway, but beyond that, I broke up with her because…I liked kissing you. Both of you. I liked everything, and I know it's not 'cause I was drunk."
"Sam—" Kurt tries to interrupt, but Sam raises a hand.
"No, let me finish." Sam's hands drop to his napkin and slowly begin to tear off a strip, eyes lowered. He doesn't continue for a long moment. "You both think I'm straight. Which, I mean yeah. I never said otherwise, but it's actually something I've been struggling with for awhile now, because…" Another strip. "I guess, growing up, I've always been attracted to girls and boys. And…it hasn't been so hard, really, 'cause I just ignore any time it's a boy, you know, and then…"
Sam tears his napkin in half, and Blaine reaches a hand out, covering one of Sam's hands with his. It makes Kurt blush, somehow. Sam's face all but lights up, though, and he finally raises his eyes to look at them.
"You don't have to be nervous admitting that. Not around us," Blaine says, and god, this is just what Kurt loves about him. Blaine will do anything to make someone else feel better. Kurt wouldn't have put a hand out, not because he doesn't care, but he wouldn't have thought to. He isn't warm like Blaine. Or Sam.
"Thanks, um…" Sam pauses as the waitress brings them their drinks, waiting until she leaves again to continue. "I guess, why I brought you here, though, is because I can't ignore it this time. I tried, but. It's all I can think about."
"What's 'it'?" Kurt asks before he can stop himself, as much as he'd like to leave this booth and this restaurant and this town at the moment.
Sam's cheeks, already pink, darken. "Both of you. Kissing you."
"Oh." Kurt doesn't quite know what to say to that. Part of him wants to crawl in a hole and die, and the other part tries to fathom the very idea that a boy liked kissing him. Him.
Kurt doesn't hear Blaine say a thing, and Sam pipes back up. "I wanted to know if you liked it, too. Well, if you liked kissing me. If maybe…you know, not because we were drinking."
"I did," Blaine says, and when Kurt looks up, surprised by how quickly Blaine answered, he catches Blaine looking from Sam to him.
They're both looking at him, and fuck them for it, because he's trying so very hard to hide the hurt from hearing the boy he's in love with choose someone he shared a drunken kiss with over him (who he also shared a drunken kiss with). And what do they expect him to say? Yes, Sam, you're a very good kisser, would you like to do it again right here in the middle of Applebee's?
"It was fine," he says, if only so they'll stop looking at him.
Sam looks so ridiculously excited for a moment before tempering it down. "Then I would like to ask you on a date."
Kurt blinks.
"…Who?" Blaine asks.
"Perhaps he wants us to draw straws," Kurt says sarcastically.
"Both of you," Sam says.
Kurt sputters. "What, like a trial run to see who you prefer? Well here, let me choose for you. Take Blaine. Now, if you'll excuse me—"
He starts to stand up, but Sam reaches across the table to take his wrist and stop him. "Kurt, wait. I didn't mean like that."
Kurt just glares at Sam, willing himself not to cry. It isn't fair, his old crush, however fleeting, and the boy he's been pining after for months dating each other. It is just his luck. It is just his fucking luck.
"Look, when I asked if you liked it, I meant everything. I meant you two kissing, too, and in bed, I mean, I wasn't even in the middle—"
"All we did was sleep," Kurt snaps, face turning red at the mention of Blaine and him kissing.
"I liked it," Blaine says quietly, and Kurt tries and fails not to look over at him. Blaine is looking down at the tabletop, something shy about him.
"You two are closer with each other than with me, so I know…maybe you'd rather just date each other, but I had to at least try," Sam says, looking so lost Kurt feels his heart lurch.
Kurt rubs at his forehead. "Sam, I just don't understand exactly what it is you're suggesting…"
Sam shrinks in on himself even more, if possible. "I want all of us to like…be together."
"Like…" Blaine pauses. "A threesome?"
Kurt blushes crimson.
"Yeah," Sam says, and this seems to be all the encouragement he needs. "Like April Ludgate!"
"…Who?"
"April Ludgate. She was in a polyamorous relationship with Derek and Eduardo and it was really cute—well, until she fell in love with Andy. Which, that was cool, though, I totally shipped them, so—"
"Sam, I have no idea what you're talking about," Kurt interrupts.
"It doesn't matter," Sam says, "the point is, uh…well the point is, yeah, I think we should try it."
"That will never work," Kurt says immediately.
Sam's face falls. "Why not?"
"What do you mean, why not?" Kurt says, his voice reaching an especially high decibel, a clear indicator he's upset. "It's too complicated. There will be jealousy and we'll all end up hating each other, for one thing."
"I'm not saying it'll always be easy—"
Sam is interrupted by their food arriving. The air is heavy with tension as their plates are passed out. Yes, everything looks good. No, they don't need anything else.
"Perhaps if we set some rules and parameters," Blaine says once the waitress leaves.
Kurt's jaw drops. "You want to do this too?"
"Well…" Blaine shifts, his right hand reaching for the tie he is not wearing because he isn't in his uniform. Kurt knows all nervous habits. "Yes, I think so." Blaine glances over, smiles shyly at Kurt. "When Sam kissed you at the party I wasn't jealous, actually, I thought you both were beautiful."
"Beautiful," Kurt deadpans.
Blaine rubs a hand across the back of his neck. "Hot?"
Kurt stares down at his salad, heart racing.
"After I met you, Kurt, I wouldn't dare let myself think about you in that way. You needed a friend, you seemed so fragile…But I don't think you are fragile. Not anymore," Blaine says.
"I want you, Kurt," Blaine says, his voice hushed and almost not there.
"So do I," says Sam, and Kurt knows he's doomed. To be liked by not just one person, but two? It almost seems impossible to comprehend.
Kurt is different and always has been. He looks different, talks different, sings different, loves different. The world doesn't seem to know what to do with him, so Kurt prides himself by living life by his rules and his standards. No one pushes the Hummels around. No one can tell him what he can't do. He wants to be extraordinary in all ways he can, he wants to stand out, he wants to shine.
Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity.
"Okay," Kurt says, lifting his chin.
This is crazy. This is crazy.
Sam and Blaine look at him in wonder. Kurt thinks maybe he can get used to being looked at like that.
"Rule number one," Kurt says before he can take it all back, "we each pay for ourselves on dates. Anything else would just be unnecessarily complicated."
Blaine nods and slowly seems to find his voice. "That makes sense."
"That sounds fine," Sam chimes in.
Kurt starts to eat his food, then, and Blaine says, "How about rule two, no one does anything major unless we're all together?"
"Major?" Sam asks.
"Like…" Blaine is blushing. "Nothing beyond hand holding, cuddling, kissing? To keep things balanced."
The realness of what he's truly just agreed to slams into Kurt like a freight train and he nearly chokes on a crouton.
"Oh. Yeah, that's smart," Sam says.
"We can't do anything until we're ready," Kurt says, pushing his panic away, forgetting to make it a rule and give it a number.
"Of course not," Blaine says, looking embarrassed.
"I just mean. That's thinking so far ahead. We haven't even had a date yet," Kurt says, trying to cover up his outburst.
"Isn't this a date?" Sam asks.
Kurt glares a dagger right between those pretty blue eyes. "Rule number three, you both shall research the proper way to woo Kurt Hummel."
Blaine is smirking and says to Sam, "It probably involves public declarations of love in song."
"In that case…" Sam stands up and Kurt mentally flails.
"Sam! Not now!"
"You are my sunshine—"
"-Oh my god—"
"—My only sunshine—"
"-Sam sit down before I prematurely dump you!-"
"—You make me happy, when skies are grey—"
Blaine is full out laughing now, and Kurt brandishes his butter knife in warning. "This is not okay!"
"—You'll never know, dear, how much I love you—"
"—Sam—"
"—Please don't take my sunshine away," Sam finishes, taking Kurt's hands in his and bowing his head. Two young girls at a nearby booth start applauding and giggling and Kurt is going to make everyone pay.
Kurt is glaring at everything he can, but Sam brings his knuckles up to his lips and kisses the backs of his hands, and what can he really do in the face of such a sweet, hopeful smile and such an endearing gesture?
"If anyone is sunshine, it's you, blondie," Kurt mutters, slowly withdrawing his hands from Sam's.
"Like in Queen As Folk," Sam says, and it seems to make him happy, but Kurt's never seen it.
They spend the rest of dinner talking about this and that, nothing too heavy or substantial, deciding to leave the rule making for later. Sam fills Kurt in on some things he's missed at McKinley, Blaine teases Sam about how the Warblers are going to kick their butts at Regionals, Kurt, as usual, isn't sure who to side with. He does want to go to New York, though, and they talk about that for a little while. Blaine says he wants to see Daniel Radcliff in How To Succeed in Business Without Trying, Kurt says he wants to see Wicked, Wicked, Wicked, and Sam isn't sure he's ever watched a musical. Kurt lets out a long-suffering sigh.
When their meals are finished and checks paid, Sam says he'll walk them both to their cars.
"He fancies himself the man, hm?" Kurt says to Blaine on their way out, lightly teasing.
"I had better stake my claim in manliness, then," Blaine says, and takes Kurt's arm, cutting around Sam with a flirty smirk. Sam laughs and follows them both out into the parking lot, Kurt's face hot the entire time to walk like this in public.
Kurt's car is the nearest to the door, and they pause next to it.
"What do we tell people?" Kurt asks, squinting against the wind.
There's a long stretch of silence.
"I don't want to lie," Sam says.
"Then…if they ask, we just tell them?" Kurt asks.
"I don't see why not…"
Blaine clears his throat a little. "Sorry if I don't tell my parents. At least not right away. I don't know how they would take the news of one boyfriend, let alone two." His voice is soft and Kurt moves just a little closer to him.
"I don't mind if you don't," Sam says, so earnestly, and Kurt nods his agreement.
"Me either, Blaine," says Kurt. "I'm not sure how exactly I'll tell my father, either."
"My folks are hippies, they won't care," Sam says. "And if…um, if either of you need a place to hang out, or, whatever, you're welcome to come over…" He's mostly looking at Blaine, and Kurt feels a sudden and almost overwhelming affection for Sam.
Blaine smiles slowly, his voice soft like before. "Thank you."
"So how about a date?" Sam says, smiling encouragingly. "This Saturday?"
"Sure," Kurt finds himself saying, a little proud at how well he's taking this.
Blaine nods, so Sam continues. "Dinner and bowling?"
"Bowling? I haven't been bowling since I was ten," Blaine says, a smile playing at his lips.
"…I've never been bowling," Kurt says, trying to look more irritated than worried.
Blaine and Sam turn to stare at him. "Never?" they say in unison.
Kurt blushes. "I didn't have many bowling-minded friends growing up, I was never an athletic child, and the required shoes don't go with anything."
They both laugh at him and Kurt is very nearly considering pulling a Rachel Berry flounce, when he realizes the effect won't be the same when it involves getting into a car and possibly running people over in his haste.
"It'll be fun," Sam says, touching his arm. "Come on, I'll pick you up at six?"
Kurt grumbles. "Fine. But we better eat somewhere nice to make up for this."
"Yes, dear," Sam says, and swoops right in for a kiss. It takes Kurt by surprise and he instinctively almost pulls away, remembering only at the last second when Sam's cool lips press to his that he agreed to this, may even want it. It certainly doesn't feel bad here in the sober daylight, and Kurt's eyes close.
The kiss doesn't last very long, and Kurt finds that his hand reached to clutch Sam's coat sleeve at some point during it. He lets go, blushing.
"See you on Saturday, Kurt," Sam says, this dopey little smile on his face.
Sam doesn't leave, though, and it takes Kurt a moment before he realizes why. Blaine, apparently, realizes at near the same time, because he takes a hesitant step forward.
"See you, Kurt," Blaine all but whispers, leaning in to give him a kiss goodbye. Kurt's eyes fall closed once more. Blaine's lips are a little warmer than Sam's, a little more insistent. His kiss is just as quick, though, and Kurt wonders, absently, why they can't just do this all Saturday?
"Bye," Kurt says, knowing his voice sounds breathy and girlish and not really caring. He fumbles with his car keys and gets inside, giving one last wave.
Sam and Blaine walk off together, and Kurt watches them go from inside his car. Blaine's car is only a few spots down and Kurt watches as they say a few things to each other, and then Sam is bending and kissing Blaine. Kurt lifts his fingers to his lips, remembering how it felt to kiss them both.
When they break apart, Sam walks away with a small wave and Blaine watches him go. Blaine turns, then, spotting Kurt, and winks at him before climbing into his car. Busted.
..o.o.o..
The next day at school, Blaine takes Kurt's hand on the way to their History class. Kurt smiles to himself, feeling a tiny burst of excitement at being able to hold Blaine's—his boyfriend's hand in the hallway. A thought niggles away in the back of his mind, though. Sam doesn't have anyone's hand to hold at McKinley.
That's when Kurt realizes…
"What are you thinking about?" Blaine asks.
"Boys," Kurt says, airily.
Blaine grins. "Are they cute?" he asks, swinging their hands.
"Cute and persuasive. Their idea of fun is dubious at best, and their taste in fine dining is questionable. But I suppose I like them okay," Kurt says. Blaine laughs and teases him all the way to class, and Kurt realizes he will be fine.
They will be fine.