A/N: This is the first fanfiction I have ever written, and I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to maaike_fluffy for beta reading for me.
DISCLAIMER: Do not own Glee or any of its characters.
Mr. Schuester walked into the classroom wearing a Santa hat and carrying a boom box.
"Okay! Welcome to our last day before Christmas break officially begins!"
He allowed the students their cheers before going on. "I know that we're all about singing-"
"Exactly, Mr. Schue, which is why I've prepared two perfect holiday numbers for us -with me leading, of course," Rachel chirped, looking brightly at her fellow glee club members.
Santana and Mercedes rolled their eyes simultaneously. Tina and Artie gave her serious side eye, and Quinn lifted her head off of Sam's shoulder to glare at the rabid loser.
Mr. Schuester blinked and nodded slowly.
"And I'm sure you'd make a great lead as always, Rachel, but I was thinking we'd save the singing for another day. We tied at sectionals this year, and we all deserve a break. So-"
Mr. Schuester raised his arm in a flourish, and Brad stepped through the choir room door in antlers, brandishing two large boxes. There was an excited murmur from the class as he set them down on the piano. Mr. Schuester opened the boxes with a smile, revealing an array of winter themed cupcakes.
"Happy Holidays, guys. Eat, drink," he said, pulling sparkling apple cider and cups from beneath the piano,"and be merry! I brought some Christmas tunes. It's all on me for a job well done!"
Jingle Bell Rock bounced out of the boombox when Mr. Schuester turned it on. Rachel frowned and stood as other New Directions members popped open the cider, tackled the cupcakes and took it upon themselves to start dancing.
"Mr. Schuester, I understand your gratitude and the general reasoning behind this...celebration, but the greatest performers are constantly perfecting their craft. Shouldn't we be gearing up for regionals? At the very least we should be showcasing our talents through these great numbers I've brought-"
"Rachel," Finn interrupted her tirade, looking tired as he picked up a cup of cider. "It's like, one day out of the year. Just once, chill out."
His words made her proud chin tilt down to her chest. Then, she took a deep breath and raised it again, sitting slowly back in her chair. Her mood only slightly dampened the cheerful spirit of the room. In fact, Santana smiled at Rachel as she twirled by in Puck's arms.
Sam had watched this scene and pulled Quinn closer to his side. He felt really bad for Rachel and Finn. Quinn insisted that Rachel deserved what she got, but Sam wasn't so sure. Finn might be laughing and talking with Santana and Puck, but Sam saw him when he thought no one was looking. Like any good guy would, he didn't mention this to Finn. Finn's issues were Finn's alone. Still, Rachel and Finn's breakup made him that much more thankful for his relationship with Quinn.
Sam smiled at the thought and pulled a small thatch of mistletoe out of his book bag. He had been using it on Quinn all day, stealing kisses in between classes. He lifted it above their heads and dipped down to kiss her. His lips met nothing but the cool air of the classroom as Quinn sighed and leaned away. Sam felt his stomach quiver with a feeling he was becoming very close to since sectionals; since these little flashes of uncertainty began showing up in Quinn's eyes. He shook his head and brought his hand up to Quinn's cheek.
"What's this all about?"
Quinn gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes and shrugged, looking away.
"Nothing. Just-" Quinn's eye drifted to the mistletoe, and she genuinely smiled this time. "You brought all that mistletoe and we've been using it all day. Maybe we should share the wealth."
She tilted her head towards the door and raised an eyebrow. Sam nodded and went to talk to Mr. Schuester.
"Hey, Mr. Schue, um, can I hang this up?"
Mr. Schuester looked at Sam with his eyebrows raised, then shrugged. "I guess so. I just hope we can keep things appropriate in here."
He gave Sam a pin to hang it with just as Becky walked into the classroom. "Coach wants to talk to you. Now."
The young girl didn't even wait for him to respond before turning on her heel and marching back to Sue's office. Mr. Schuester sighed, rolled his eyes and followed her.
Sam let them leave before pulling the piano stool over to the doorway. As he placed the mistletoe just so, a familiar face sidled into the threshold. He only paused there for a minute to adjust his shoulder bag, look over his shoulder and worry his shirt cuffs, but it was minute enough for McKinley's biggest troublemaker.
"Oh my god, priceless! Look who's under the mistletoe."
Santana folded her arms and pinned the two boys with a stare. Her outburst had its desired effect -everyone was caught in an awkward tableau, their attention drawn to the doorway where the most tension lie.
Sam carefully stepped down from the piano stool, afraid to look anywhere -at anyone- but Kurt. He knew how he felt -he couldn't begin to wonder how embarrassing this was for Kurt.
Honestly, Kurt should have been at Dalton, but the idea of spending his last day with the Warblers -even with the admittedly dreamy Blaine -had somehow depressed him. Mercedes had sent him a text yesterday. It wasn't anything special, but it was enough. He'd needed McKinley and the New Directions.
So he'd come by in a very chic winter hat and sunglasses, skillfully ducking any interaction with Karofsky to get to the choir room. He was just checking his tracks and evening out his cuffs when Santana decided to unleash her usual venom.
"Well? Kiss him, blondie. Don't break tradition," she cooed.
Quinn sat in her chair, mouth covered to fight off a smile and stifle giggles. Finn was trying discreetly -and failing -to catch Sam's attention, shaking his head and mouthing "no, dude." Mercedes was doing almost the same to Kurt through facial expressions. Santana smirked.
"You know you want to, anyway. Those lips scream homo -"
"Shut up!"
Mercedes and Santana glared at each other.
During all of this, Kurt wondered why Sam hadn't moved -actually no one had, including himself. They were all under the thrall of an overabundant cluster of evergreen shrubbery. At least, that's what Kurt kept telling himself. The reality was that he was waiting for the other boy to leave first-no, he expected it. He refused to reach beyond that thought to the slight heart rate increase or the even smaller blip of fear that raced through him from memories of another forced kiss. Swallowing these denied feelings, Kurt looked into Sam's face. Poor boy-he looked like he was about to slap his hands to his cheeks and yell at the top of his lungs, making his transformation into Macaulay Caulkin complete. An honorable and -ahem- hunky Macaulay Caulkin, but still another jock at this petri dish of a public school. Suddenly exhausted, Kurt smirked at Sam.
"You don't have to kiss me. Christmas traditions aren't exactly my forte as an atheist. And this one," Kurt gestured to the plant hanging above them, "is particularly tacky and abusive. So I'm letting you off the hook. Again."
Kurt started towards Mercedes, but Sam caught his arm. He looked out at the rest of the club before angling his head down to kiss Kurt lightly on the cheek.
Kurt's already rosy face bloomed brighter and he felt a rush of warmth as Sam's lush lips pressed against his skin. He gasped and winced. He wanted to school his face, but knew that his shock must register to all watching. He just hoped no one could identify the undeniable pleasure there, as well.
As for Sam, he couldn't say how he'd ended up doing this. One minute, he was conspiring with Quinn to put up mistletoe and the next he was caught here with Kurt. He saw the club's reactions -Finn's adamant "no's", Santana's teasing, the awkward looks. It was enough to make him want to slink back into Quinn's arms and kiss her again. But then Kurt looked at him. He had seen these expressions once before, that time Kurt had talked to him in the shower. The kid was crazy. Karofsky could spot him at anytime, and even then he might still be thrown in the dumpster if other jocks came across him. He stuck out like a sore thumb - a moving target. The vortex of torture Kurt lived in at McKinley was chillingly familiar...
No, best not to think about his own past. Kurt. To Kurt, this was just his existence. Sam thought of Quinn, sitting and trying to squelch her laughter and surprise, and never felt so lucky in his life. Everyone should feel the way he felt now. Everyone should get a chance to feel normal. Especially the Kurts of the world.
So here he was, kissing another guy. Weird…his cheek was still soft, no prickle. There were at least two gasps from the rest of the club, but Sam only heard them as background to Kurt's own inhalation.
After a long moment, Sam drew back. One side of his mouth lifted into a smile. Kurt touched his own cheek and looked up at him, a question in his eyes. Sam just winked at him, eyes twinkling.
"Good to see you, Kurt. Merry Christmas."
Finn shook his head, mouth hanging unhinged. Rachel, who had previously been practicing the notes of her holiday numbers and looking glum, was beaming with her hands clasped before her. Actually, not a girl in the room wasn't smiling - except Santana, of course, who just looked disgusted. Mike was chuckling in the corner.
Kurt, still flushed, slid his hand down and away from his cheek.
"Huh. Atheist, but...thanks."
He watched Sam stroll back to a laughing Quinn. I have got to tell Blaine about this, he thought as Mercedes came up and linked arms with him. Mistletoe was still tacky, but suddenly much more intriguing.
END