This is something I wrote aaaaages ago. I think my second Glee fic ever? And the first one I finished. I don't think it's particularly good but I've decided to publish it anyway, because I hate to just delete stuff if I've gone through the trouble of writing it and I also think the little Klaine moments in this are quite cute. (I love outside views on Klaine, seriously, I need to write more at some point.) Also, ALL THE KURT FRIENDSHIPS. *hearts* Yet another of countless ways Glee let down its fans, am I right or am I right? Anyway, as an apology for this mediocre ficlet, sometime later this weekend I'll be publishing a porny one shot/GKM fill. ;)

Sam parked the van in its spot behind the pizza parlour and dragged a hand tiredly over his face. Double shifts were exhausting even when he hadn't stayed up late the previous night catching up on homework. But ever since his family had been forced to move into the motel, enough food to eat wasn't exactly a constant and double shifts delivering pizza was the only way his little brother and sister wouldn't begin to starve.

"Sam! More deliveries!" the manager, Eloise, shouted through the back door. He shook out his arms and legs to wake himself up slightly and then jogged over to the kitchen. "One's a bit out of our area but they pay good tips," she said, helping Sam pick up the boxes.

"Which one?"

Eloise tapped the label atop four boxes tied together. "Dalton Academy?"

"Dalton?" Sam echoed before he could stop himself. Eloise raised an eyebrow.

"Problem?"

"No, no problem . . ."

Sam barely paid attention as he delivered the three other orders; he'd been doing this long enough so that he could go through the motions and get everything done correctly. All he could think about was how he'd have to go to Dalton. Kurt boarded during the week – what if he saw him? What would Sam say?

As he pulled into an empty parking space near the front door, Sam hardly noticed how impressive the exterior of the building was, and he only forced himself to look around the inside, to distract himself from the possibility of Kurt seeing him, after he'd told the receptionist that he had a pizza order.

The receptionist returned through an ornate arch just two minutes later and the two smiled at each other – hers kind, his tight with nerves.

When he heard Blaine's voice and Kurt's name a few more minutes after that, his stomach dropped. Of course Kurt would be the one to have ordered the pizza.

" . . . Kurt, we agreed that if I let you pay for our last date, I'd pay for this one."

"Please tell me you're not counting a study session as a date."

"We're together, aren't we? And I do plan to kiss you later."

"It's not a date if we're hanging out with most of my history class!" Kurt protested, though his voice was a little higher and breathier than normal. Sam smiled and shook his head. The two boys then came through the same arch as the receptionist had done and Sam couldn't help but laugh quietly at Blaine's grin and Kurt's blush, drawing their attention to him.

"Sam!" Kurt exclaimed happily at the same time as Blaine said, "Hi, Sam."

"Hey," he responded, grinning back even as his stomach contracted painfully. Wow, it was going to be hard to pretend there was nothing wrong. So he quickly looked down and got on with his job – he could save the pity party for later. "Two Hawaiian, one Meat Deluxe and one vegetarian, all large, right?"

Kurt nodded as he asked, "How long have you had this job? Finn's never said anything."

"Uh, the guys in glee don't . . . really know," replied Sam as Blaine closed his hands over Kurt's, to stop him from opening his wallet, and handed over thirty dollars.

"Keep the change," Blaine said as he ignored his boyfriend's exasperated look.

"Thanks, dude." Sam couldn't help but grin widely. Blaine had just given him a seven dollar tip! Tomorrow after school, he'd buy Stevie and Stacey a treat from the bakery near the motel.

His elation quickly faded when he remembered the motel, and then a little bit more when he realised Kurt studying him. Had he given himself away?

Kurt turned to look at his boyfriend, and they looked at each other for a moment before Blaine smiled and pecked Kurt's cheek. "I'll see you back in there." His eyes flickered over to Sam as he picked up the now-untied boxes. "Take care of yourself, Sam."

"You too."

Kurt waited until they could no longer hear Blaine's footsteps or quiet singing before he asked, "So how are you?"

"I'm good." Sam nodded, trying to keep his face relaxed. "What about you?" he deflected, looking pointedly at the arch through which Blaine had disappeared. Kurt's cheeks tinged pink and he looked pleased for a moment; then he blinked, seeming to remember Sam was with him.

"Everything's fine. But you said before that the New Directions don't know about this?" He nodded at Sam's cap (which proudly identified itself with PAPA JOHN'S arching above the logo).

"Uh, yeah," Sam said as it became clear Kurt was waiting for confirmation to continue. He shifted his weight uncomfortably when Kurt frowned.

"Why not? There's nothing wrong with having a job. I help out my dad at the garage sometimes."

"It's, uh . . ." Sam mentally cursed when he felt his throat thicken and his eyes burn, and Kurt's eyes widened. "It's my family," Sam choked out. "My dad lost his job and then we – we lost the house and now—"

"Here," Kurt said gently, holding out a handkerchief. (An actual handkerchief which would need washing, not just a tissue. Somehow, Sam wasn't surprised Kurt had one on him.) Sam pressed it against his eyes and didn't lower it until he'd got himself back under control.

"My dad got transferred here from Tennessee," Sam started again, letting Kurt guide him to an expensive-looking couch. "And things were okay for a while but then the recession hit and he got fired. We didn't have much money because of the move and a couple of weeks ago, the bank repossessed our house. We've moved into a motel and we . . . don't have much stuff any more."

His throat tightened again. This was the first time he'd actually said it aloud.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, it's . . . Quinn knows. 'Cause we go to the same church. They're all helping as best they can, giving us food and clothes and stuff, and Quinn looks after my little brother and sister when I have to work and my parents go looking for jobs."

"You sold your clothes?"

A small, unbidden smile appeared on Sam's face at Kurt's mild horror. "There's a store on West Market Street that buys them."

"You know, I think I probably have some clothes that would fit you."

"Oh, no, you don't have to give me your clothes—"

"Don't worry about it," Kurt interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "My wardrobe needs sorting out anyway. I could also see if my dad has anything, and maybe Finn . . ."

"Could you keep it a secret?" Kurt stared at him. "I mean, I don't really want it getting around the glee club."

"Sure." Kurt smiled sympathetically and Sam sighed in relief.

"Thanks, man. Anyway," he added, standing up, "I should get back now. I've still got another hour."

"Okay." Kurt stood and then breathed in, obviously wanting to say something else. Sam nodded a little and Kurt slowly said, "I was also going to say that Blaine would probably like to help too. His clothes wouldn't fit but he has an older brother and he's about the same size as you . . ."

"Thanks," he repeated, smiling to Kurt, who smiled loosely in return. "I'll see you round, Kurt."

"I'm spending time with my family this weekend but I'm free next weekend," replied Kurt.

Sam paused for a moment and then threw his arms around the other boy. Kurt froze for a moment before returning Sam's hug with a firm yet gentle hold.

"Really, Kurt. Thank you."

"I'll see you next weekend," he promised, and for a moment, Sam didn't hold the weight of the world on his shoulders.