Heart On Your Sleeve
A/N: Hey you guys, this is just a one shot on how I hope some interaction between Sam and Kurt goes in the Born This Way Eppy. I don't own Glee. Enjoy!
After the song and dance had been rehearsed to death, everyone was granted a ten minute break, to relax, get re-hydrated, and chat.
Sam was sitting to the far left of the auditorium, fiddling with the trim of his shirt. He hadn't been sure who had suggested this dress code for the routine, but something in his mind pointed to the newly returned counter tenor standing by the stage. When Kurt had returned, Sam felt like he was emitting a need to redeem himself. Redeem himself for what, Sam was unsure, but if the shirts were any clue, it was something personal, which Kurt would avoid talking about at all costs. As was the boy's way.
When faced with something to write on his shirt, Sam had frozen. He had worked a long time to build up a confidant demeanor, something to trick everyone he met into thinking he was a happy pretty boy. That he was content and smiling at life. To write an insecurity, something others or himself berated him for would be to rip a part of his heart out a stitch it to the light fabric covering his arm. It wasn't something that he was used to.
To decide what to write, Sam had done something he hadn't done in years. He wrote.
When he had been younger, he had the habit of believing that everything he did wrong made him a worse person. Every time his parents yelled at him, he would go up to his room and write down what they said. "Selfish", "Lazy", "Mean", "Self-Centered". Of course, these are things many children hear for not cleaning up their rooms, picking on their siblings, or wanting an expensive toy. But he would write them down, and pin them on the wall in the back of his dresser.
As he got older, this habit became more of an internal cleansing. If he wrote it down, it would be like asking forgiveness, he would be wiped clean, and could move on without that burden. He would write down insecurities and failures in his eyes, things he could never amount to. He would write them down and put them in his closet.
Ironically, when he was fourteen, the piece of paper he locked in his closet spelled out "Gay". But that too was soon covered up with new papers.
After he moved to McKinley, he stopped. He was convinced he could keep the mask on without cleansing every night. But it was becoming a tough burden to bare. So when he heard about the shirts, he used it as an excuse.
He spent three hours writing down every bad thought about himself he'd had in the school year so far. "Fat" "Worthless" "Bad Boyfriend" "Gay" "Lonely" "Unworthy" "Loser" "Manipulative" "Stupid" "Unwanted" "Forgettable" "Ugly", along with many more.
After a long time in his bedroom, and a small amount of breaking down, he looked at the list and realized that this was private. He wasn't going to wear one of these words on stage to perform a song about loving yourself.
Looking at some of the other shirts, Sam was almost upset he hadn't written some of the words. Brittany's said "I'm With Stoopid", and she didn't care. She would run around loving who she wanted and smiling when she wanted and making nonsensical claims whenever she cared to.
Puck's said the same with an arrow pointing downwards, and he was in the corner talking to Quinn, who's shirt said "Lucy Caboosy". Both talking about something that made them feel terrible and wonderful at the same time.
Mike's was "Can't Sing", Finn's was "Can't Dance", Mercedes donned "No Weave", and Kurt… Sam was maybe the most jealous of Kurt's shirt. It flaunted just how well he knew himself, and how he wasn't scared to show it, how he would never change, and he would be who he is. Sam secretly wished he could wear a matching "Likes Boys" shirt, but he knew he would never be strong enough.
Still, even if he couldn't wear his most desired shirt, glancing down, he could've chosen something better then "Trouty Mouth", but he couldn't think through the fuzziness and stuttering in his brain.
Kurt glanced up and noticed a lone blond sitting in the seats above them. He bid goodbye to his dear girls, and decided to go chat with the boy who looked so down.
"Hey Sam." He said sitting on the chair back in front of him. "What's going on?" Sam risked a glance up at Kurt, and smiled.
"I like your shirt." Kurt nodded, "Well, what's the use of being controversial unless you're going to take advantage of it, right? This could make someone remember the performance." Sam nodded, then stopped, and shook his head.
"No, I mean, I like that you're so chill with it." Kurt smiled and let out an airy laugh.
"Well, I've had almost a decade to get "chill" with it." He paused, then looked a little confused, "What's "Trouty Mouth"?" Sam frowned.
"Just a prank Santana played on me. I couldn't think of anything good, really." Kurt raised his eyebrow.
"I see. You couldn't think of one, or you didn't want to share something so…private?" Sam looked up with a snap of his neck, so Kurt started to backtrack, "Sorry, that wasn't my place to ask."
"No, it's fine. Yeah, you're right. I had, like, pages and pages of shit I could've put on this shirt, but I guess…"
"It's okay, you don't need to tell me." Kurt got up to leave, and Sam blurted something out.
"Stupid." Kurt turned, and cocked his head.
"Pardon me?"
"I'm dyslexic, so my whole life I've had crappy grades. I'm not school smart. I couldn't tell that Quinn had cheated on me, or that Santana was using me as a beard. I'm not people smart. I'm not smart. I'm stupid." Kurt returned and sat back down.
A long silence passed between the two boys.
"You're not stupid, you're trusting. You like people, but the people you like are never worthy of it. You're not stupid, you're caring." Another pause, "I was trying to find something other then likes boys, but I wrote this for the same reasons you wrote Trouty Mouth. Sam," the taller boy focused on Kurt, "I get it." He smiled and got up again, "You were really great in the number, by the way."
Maybe he should wear his heart on his sleeve more often…
