Sam shouted as he ripped a heart balloon in half. Fuck this stupid holiday. Everyone was having fun but him, enjoying all the stupid red and pink hearts everywhere and being all happy and in love.
Why did everyone get love but him? God, he had tried so hard to please everyone since he had moved to Lima, but he was done trying, and was done with love, and all the stupid girls it meant he needed to involve himself with. He just wanted tonight to be over, damnit. He stormed his way out of Breadstix, or the Sugar Shack or whatever stupid thing she had paid her father to call it for the night, making his way to his beat up old truck. He rest his head against the steering wheel, tears welling up in his eyes.
First it had been Quinn. Then Santana. And he had taken a leap of faith with Mercedes, and look where that had landed him. Sitting outside crying after having caught a glimspe of her. It was awful, and he hated everything and just wanted to feel numb again. He was sick of caring about people to not have them care back. He needed a drink. He knew there wasn't any at his house, and there was no way he was getting into a bar on Valentine's Day. His fake ID wasn't that good, and the places would be packed. Someone would recognize him. But he had remembered Kurt and Blaine talking about some bar they had gone to a few weeks back... Sandals? Scanners? Scandals. If Kurt and Blaine had gotten in, he was sure he could manage. He pulled it up on his google maps, quickly getting directions.
Scandals was dumpy, but Dave found comfort there. Especially after the night he had had. He knew that telling Kurt how he felt wasn't going to work well; he had been with the hobbit for what felt like forever. But it was worth a shot he told himself over and over again. But it hadn't been. He had spent al of his free blocks for a week delivering valentine's to Kurt, just to be shot down. He felt awful just thinking about it.
He took a swig of his second beer, scanning through the collection of people dancing on the small floor. The drag queen collection was starting to get better, he supposed, but that could also be the effects of the alcohol he was quickly consuming.
Sam had pulled into the lot and half smiled. No one in their right mind would come here. He'd be safe. He's have a drink, call one of the New Directions kids to come get him and give them some bogus story about pulling into the lot to take a phone call or something and convince someone to drive him home.
He made it past security without a problem and sighed as he looked around. It wasn't the prettiest establishment, but it was better than nothing. His heart dropped as he spotted a familiar face, however; David Karofsky.
Dave hadn't seen Sam since the blonde had left in the beginning of the summer, well not for more than a minute or so anyways, and it took him a few seconds to recognize him. He finished his beer, before motioning for the bartender for two more, taking a sip of one before heading towards Sam with the other.
"Evans? What are you doing here?" Dave asked, offering him the cold bottle. Sam accepted it quickly, taking a long drink before shaking his head, lightly rolling his eyes.
"I remembered Kurt and Blaine saying something about this place, and I needed a drink." the blonde replied, taking another swig. The beer tasted awful, but he didn't even care at that point, he just wanted to stop feeling all the hurt that had nested itself deep inside him. He'd drink just about anything at that point.
Dave's heart raced a little as he talked to Sam, Kurt and Blaine had mentioned this place to Sam? Did that mean Sam was gay? Did they tell Sam that Dave was gay? Had they mentioned him at all? He tried to shake the thoughts from his head, keeping up with the light conversation.
"Rough night?" He asked, biting his lip, trying to gauge a reaction from the other boy.
"Yeah, more like rough every minute since I moved here." Sam sighed, taking a final gulp of his beer, looking to Dave, "Every girl I've ever tried to be with has been awful. Fuck women." He laughed a little, making his way to a barstool, plopping down rather lazily, "am I right?"
"Yeah, fuck women." Dave laughed gently, sitting down beside him. The pair of teenagers made their way through another pair of beers a piece, and as much as Sam hated to admit it, he was definitely feeling its effects, and he was actually getting along with David Karofsky.
Dave grinned a little as he talked to Sam, the blonde loosening up as he got more in him, before biting his lip a little. He mustered up all the courage he could before motioning to the dance floor, "Wanna dance?"
Sam nodded with a drunken smile as he grasped onto Dave's shoulders, making his way to the dance floor with him. He wasn't really sure why he was still there, or why he was dancing with Dave, or why he was enjoying Dave's company so much, but he just liked not being alone. He felt himself get close to Dave, grinding up against him, although he wasn't sure why or how he had managed to start doing it, but he liked it.
Dave's heart raced as the blonde began to grind against him; he was certain Kurt had told Sam about Dave being gay. He had to have known, or why would this be happening? Dave didn't think he liked Sam, he'd admit that he'd checked him out before, but Sam was hot, and he had a nice butt, but that didn't mean he liked him or anything. And Sam sure as shit hadn't ever checked out Dave, he knew that for certain, but for some reason there they were on the dance floor in Ohio's saddest gay bar, grinding like they had been building sexual tension for years.
Dave cautiously put his hands on Sam's hips, smiling as nothing changed with the dancing blonde, who was off in his own world.
Truth be told, Sam was starting to sober up as he danced; it always managed to have that effect on him. It didn't worry him or freak him out when Dave's hands found his hips, he just found himself turning around to face him, their faces inches from each other. Dave's breath was hot and ragged, and he smelled like beer, and sort of like mint, and kind of like body spray, and it was weird but he liked it, and he liked Dave's hands on his hips, and he liked his buzz and he just liked this place.
Dave grinned as Sam turned to face him, trying to think of something to say, but coming up with nothing. He wanted to thank Sam for showing up, because it meant he wasn't alone, and he could put being shot down by Kurt behind him, at least for a little while, which was better than having it in the front of his mind. He didn't really know what he was thinking, but he pressed his lips to the other boy's, closing his eyes as they connected.
Sam's first instinct was to kiss back, because the feeling of lips upon lips was one of his favorite feelings of all time. He stopped his dancing, placing a hand on Dave's face as he kissed him back, suprisingly soft and gentle. He had never pinned Dave for a soft person, or gay, and oh my god, Sam was kissing a guy. The softness of Dave's lips, and how good he smelled aside, Sam was kissing another guy. Why was no one freaking out?
Dave let a hand make its way to Sam's neck, holding him close as he kissed him on the middle of the dance floor. He was definitely glad that Sam had shown up at Scandals. He had never imagined Sam could be gay, or bi, or whatever, or open enough to come to a gay bar. Unless Sam didn't know it was a gay bar. The gears started turning in his head as he realized what was going on.
"Fuck women" Sam didn't know. He had heard Kurt and Blaine had come here. Not that they had gone to a gay bar. He had just heard it was a bar. Dave's mind raced as he pulled away from Sam, who was eagerly leaning to continue kissing him. He shook his head, looking at Sam, a forced smile on his face.
"Sam, we can't. You don't know what you're doing. You're not gay. This is a gay bar, and you're drunk." Dave forced the words from his mouth, because he didn't want to say them, he wanted to press his lips to Sam's again and pull him flush against him, and make their way out to his car and make out in the backseat and get over how awful Valentine's Day was, and just forget everything. He didn't want to tell him to stop, because that was the very last thing he wanted.
"What?" Sam asked, blinking a couple of times, shaking his head, "I don't care where I am. I'm not drunk." He lunged forward, kissing Dave again, mumbling sloppily against his lips, "Stop fighting it. If you wanna kiss me, do it."
Author's note;
Should I keep going with this?
I wrote it as a headcanon one shot, but there's not nearly enough Samofsky/Evanofsky/Save love of this site.