Portrait
Author's Note~ Another Hevans fic. Will I ever learn?
"Sorry to be stealing your bed like this," Kurt said sheepishly, "Honestly, I don't mind using the air mattress or the couch."
Sam sat on the floor, watching as the other boy unloaded his suitcase. What's with the blue socks?
"Nah, dude, it's cool," he replied casually, averting his eyes as Kurt bent over. God, those jeans! How does he even breathe? "It was your bed first, anyway."
"I know," Kurt sighed, "but you're the one who's been sleeping in it for the past few months, so I still feel bad."
"Well, don't," Sam said firmly, "If it wasn't for you and your family, I'd still be working as an illegal stripper to put food on the table."
Kurt's lips tightened in discomfort.
"So," he abruptly changed the subject, "how's school been, Mr. Vice President?"
Sam's cheeks flushed. "Oh, uhh…you know about that?" he asked in embarrassment.
Kurt scoffed, "Of course I know. Just because I live in New York doesn't mean I stopped caring about you guys."
"Oh, right," Sam chuckled, "Well, to be honest, it's been kind of…" he searched for the proper word, "Lonely," he finished lamely.
Kurt furrowed his brow. "Lonely?" he asked in confusion. "Hasn't Finn been here up until recently?"
"Well, yeah, but you haven't."
"I'm surprised you've noticed my absence," Kurt said dryly.
Sam got indignant. "Of course I have! Movie nights aren't the same without you, bro!"
"I see," Kurt breathed, his expression unreadable. He got a pile of folded t-shirts from his suitcase, and put them in the top drawer, talking as he did so.
"Believe it or not, as much as I love Rachel and Santana, I sometimes get lonely up there too. I end up having to take Ambien most nights and-," he paused, his breath hitching. Sam became curious on what grabbed the other man's attention until he remembered….oh, shit!
"Kurt-," he started.
"Uhh, Sam?" Kurt interrupted, lifting the frame out of the drawer, his gaze intense. "What's this?"
"Dude, I promise that it's not what it looks like," he defended.
"Really?" Kurt retorted disbelievingly, his tone unusually light, "Because it looks like a picture of me made out of noodles."
"W-Well…" he stuttered nervously, "Y-Yeah, it is but-," he stopped when he saw that Kurt didn't look mad at all. The other man was biting his fist to keep from laughing. Sam had always found it kind of adorable when he did that. "Wait…You're not mad or creeped out?"
"What?" Kurt chuckled, a huge grin on his face. "No. Actually, I'm flattered. No one's ever used me as an artistic model before. I am curious as to how you were able to get the details so precise, though."
Sam blushed. "I uhh…used a lot of the pictures around the house," he admitted awkwardly, "It was still hard, though. It took me like a week."
"A week?" Kurt asked in shock, "Is this the only portrait you've made?"
"Nah, I made a few others. Like Emma Stone and some other famous people."
Kurt looked impressed, his eyes blown wide as he slumped against the dresser.
"Sam," he said slowly, "have you ever considered pursuing an art career?"
Sam scrunched his brows. "No, not really. It's just kind of a hobby, y'know?"
Kurt gave him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding? This is more than just a hobby! This is…a gift! I would kill to have this kind of talent."
"C'mon," Sam scoffed bashfully, "You're the most talented dude I know."
"True, but that's beside the point," Kurt waved away the compliment. Sam rolled his eyes fondly. It felt good to have this Kurt back. The one who was over-confident but still modest in his own way. This is the Kurt he first became friends with (and the one he's had a secret crush on for a while), not the sad, empty shell he was last year.
"Not everyone has this kind of talent, Sam," Kurt said gently, "You should use it to your advantage."
"You're probably right," Sam mumbled.
"Of course I am," Kurt preened. "Although, I must ask…" he paused, "Why me?"
"Well…uhh…" Sam chortled nervously, his face heating up, "because I sort of missed you and your face is really nice-looking." Kurt arched a skeptical eyebrow, causing him to blurt, "You fascinate me, okay?"
Kurt looked unimpressed. "I fascinate you?"
"Well, I mean, like, I've known you for a while, but I still don't really get you, y'know?" His nerves got worse under Kurt's scrutiny. "Like, I mean, every time I think I've got you figured out, you surprise me. If someone ever asked me, 'Who is Kurt Hummel?', I couldn't tell them. There's no way to describe you. You're just…you."
"Huh. That's really sweet," Kurt said hesitantly, "A little weird, but sweet."
Sam's eyes widened when he felt the brunette wrap his arms tightly around his neck.
"Thanks, Sam," Kurt whispered in his ear.
"Sure," he mumbled shyly, enclosing his forearms around the other man's waist while simultaneously willing back his forming hard-on from the close contact. Kurt pecked his cheek quickly, and returned to the task at hand. Sam was glad that the brunette had his back turned because he knew for a fact that his face was beat red. His attention was drawn once again when he saw Kurt put the pasta portrait in his suitcase.
"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm keeping it," he huffed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why?"
Kurt smirked. "Because," he replied cheekily, "this is the best I've ever looked in a picture." He closed the case and slid it under the bed. Sam knew that wasn't true, but decided not to say anything for fear of humiliating himself even further.
"Now," Kurt exclaimed, clapping his hands together, "I'm going to get coffee with Mercedes and Mike, and then I'm going to visit Finn at his dorm. Would you like to join me?"
Sam grinned. "Yeah! Just give me a few minutes to throw some clothes on."
"Fine," Kurt snorted. He pointed his finger sassily. "But if you're not downstairs in 5 minutes, I'm leaving without you. Are we clear?"
"Yeah, dude, I got it."
"Good," he said prissily, and left the room. A few seconds later, he poked his head back in, startling the blond.
"Oh, and Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time you miss me, just call. It's much easier that way."
Sam ducked his head in discomfiture. "Sure."
After Kurt left again, Sam shook his head in amusement. He didn't think he would ever fully understand Kurt. The dude never ceased to amaze him. But, maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.
A/N~ So yeah, I can't be the only one who was suspicious when they saw the macaroni picture of Kurt. Like seriously. Why Kurt? My Hevans sensor started tingling, and this fic was born. Sorry if it's not amazing.
Also, in case you weren't aware, Cory Monteith, the actor who plays Finn, died 3 days ago. Let's pray for his family, for Lea, and for all his castmates. Keep in mind that this greatly changes plans for season 5, for Finn, for Finchel, for everything, so let's be sensitive and open-minded, okay? Don't bother the actors, writers, or any of the staff. Give them the time they need to grieve.
Review, please!
Review, please!