Title: All Downhill From Here
Author: Jen
Rating: Teen
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Kurt, Finn, Burt, Rachel
Author Notes: This is set roughly after 2.04/2.05 but obviously before 2.06
Warning: A tad bit of offensive language very infrequently.
Disclaimer: Owning people had been illegal for quite a while now.
Summary: Kurt is asked out on his very first date, and it's all downhill from there.
All Downhill From Here:
Shoulders slumping in exhaustion, Kurt dabbed a white towel against his forehead with one hand as he shouldered his gym bag with the other. Around him his fellow Cheerios were dispersing, a few reminiscing of Coach Sylvester's scathing remarks that lingered, but most looking as weary as Kurt felt. The last exhibition showing before Regionals was fast approaching and practices were even more brutal than Kurt had ever imagined possible. He felt a twinge of jealousy at Mercedes' ability to escape from the squad and his own inability to take the identical steps.
"All I want to do is take a long shower and crawl into bed," Kurt confessed to Brittany next to him. He was possibly considering cutting his nightly routine down to half an hour, and foregoing most of his skincare. He still needed to finish an English paper and glee met the following day. Sometimes, Kurt wondered if he'd taken on a bit too much.
Kurt gave a few of the Cheerios a absent wave and headed towards the locker room. He was only a few feet past the gym doors when he ran into a solid mass. In his exhausted state he bounced back, and might have lost his footing if a firm hand hadn't caught his upper arm.
"You okay?"
Kurt blinked up at Sam's face. "Of course," he said immediately. He got his feet solidly under him and glanced down at Sam's hand where it lingered. "You can let go now."
A bit bashfully, Sam released him. "Sorry."
Kurt dabbed once more at his forehead and told Sam, "Quinn's still in the gym. I assume you're looking for her. Coach kept us late today."
The blank look in Sam's face was unsettling, but no more than when the taller boy seemed to startle and then stammer out, "I didn't, well, I'm not here for Quinn."
Kurt arched an eyebrow. "I wouldn't try and get in-between Santana and Brittany. Lesser men have tried, and the custodian does not enjoy the aftermath."
"You," Sam said abruptly. "I waited for you."
"For me?" Kurt asked slowly. "Why?"
"When I was six," Sam rushed to say, urgency in his voice, "my mom took me to see My Fair Lady. We were living in Huston and the local theater was playing it as a special weekend showing. It was a double feature, but I was little and I barely made it through the first movie. I don't even remember what the second was. In fact I don't really remember My Fair Lady."
Tryingly, Kurt said, "I'm tried, Sam. I'm sore and I'm tired and as fascinating as your trip down memory lane has not been for me, I just want to shower, change, and go home. I promise, if you just let me go right now, I will listen to you reminisce about your mother and son bonding time tomorrow, after glee."
Kurt moved to pass by Sam, confident the situation was taken care of, but then he was being held once more, this time by two firm hands on his shoulders.
"Sam," Kurt said carefully.
"Downtown," Sam cut in, "they're showing My Fair Lady this weekend. I saw a flier for it this morning. I want to … do you think that's a good date movie?"
Kurt tried to concentrate on anything but the firm weight of Sam's hands on his shoulders, or the heat emanating from them. He could feel the sheer strength of Sam from the grip, and he was held easily in place. "The movie, while borderline sexist in its overlying message and depiction of an unequal relationship between two adults, is appropriately romantic in enough instances to qualify as a date movie. If you ask Quinn, I'm sure she'll be thrilled to go with you."
"No," Sam insisted. "I mean … Kurt."
Kurt couldn't help leaning into Sam a bit. "Yes?"
"I waited for you," Sam repeated.
"And I've told you that Quinn would want to see the movie," Kurt reinforced. "How is it possible for you to go from confident to insecure so quickly?" Because really, one moment Sam was boasting about his body, and the next he was looking concerned and worried about something that was a shoe-in.
Sam's fingers slid at that moment, from Kurt's shoulders, which were sweaty and unappealing to all parties involved, to further back. The motion caused Kurt to step forward a bit, and he had to place his hands on Sam's chest to avoid full contact.
"You cannot," Kurt said, his heart thundering as he tried to keep calm, "practice kissing with me." Lies, Kurt knew, all lies.
Sam offered Kurt a smile. "I'm doing this all wrong. I always do this wrong. Kurt, just stop for a minute, okay? I can fix this, I promise."
"Okay," Kurt breathed out, not sure what more to say. And god he hoped that none of the other Cheerios followed after him. He'd never live down being caught in such a compromising position. Sam seemed a bit clueless, at least from what Kurt had seen, when it came to affectionate moments of potential homosexuality.
"Do you like My Fair Lady?" Sam posed, and when Kurt nodded a little, Sam continued, "Then do you want to see it with me? It's a Sunday showing, about two in the afternoon, and I was thinking we could get lunch before that. I'm starting to learn my way around town and there's a diner I'd really like to check out."
"Me?" Kurt mumbled, feeling a bit numb. "You want to see My Fair Lady with me?"
Sam nodded.
"And not Quinn?"
Sam nodded once more.
Kurt's hands fell flat against Sam's defined chest and he had to take a deep breath. "I have to admit, this is the last possible thing I expected to happen to me today." He shook his head slowly. "But Quinn-"
"-is a very good friend," Sam assured. "I really like her, Kurt. She makes me feel like I can open up to her. I can been goofy without her thinking I'm stupid. I can be honest about my emotions and she won't accuse me of being less of a man. She holds secrets well, and I think I'm better for knowing her, but we aren't dating, if that's what you think."
He had. He really had thought it. Because they were always together, always talking, always sitting together.
"We tried," Sam confessed. "And I think she would have been an awesome girlfriend. But then she found all those files of you singing on my computer, and things got weird from there."
Confused, and his head spinning, Kurt asked, "Files of me singing?"
Finally Sam released him, but he kept a steady hand at Kurt's elbow. "You know, from when we were going to sing the duet? You sent me about sixty, and I listen to them all. I told Finn, I thought you were Faith Hill. I kind of kept the files, mostly because I really like your voice."
Kurt licked at his chapped lips. "Mostly?"
Sam forced a laugh, his face lighting up in a way that made Kurt feel a little light headed. Then the jock said, "Did you know I thought you and Puckerman were an item when I first came here?"
"Blasphemy," Kurt said right away, eyebrows furrowing. "Utter blasphemy."
"I did," Sam insisted, his thumb digging gently into the crook of Kurt's elbow, rubbing over the smooth skin. "I don't know what it looks like to you, but up until your girl clued me in, it looked like he was your in the closet boyfriend. He told me, first day on the team, that if I even thought about tossing you in a dumpster that he'd personally introduce my face to his locker. Then he was lurking around you the entire day. Some guys are like that Kurt. Some guys want to have all the perks of a boyfriend and none of the disadvantages."
"But seriously," Kurt said flatly, "Puck and I?"
Sam shrugged a bit helplessly. "So, My Fair Lady?"
Kurt countered immediately with, "Since when are you gay?"
"I'm not," Sam said easily, cocking one hip out. "I'm not some heterosexual flagship, either. I just like people, Kurt, not their genders. And I like that you're so confident. I like the way you take care and pride with yourself. I look at you and think you could make me laugh, so I want to give us a shot. That is … if you and Puck …"
"No," Kurt insisted, head shaking almost violently. "Puck is about as straight as they come, though I wouldn't put it past him to try and seduce a boy just to prove he has the moves. But really, Puck and I … we're not friends, okay, but we're comrades of a sort. Glee club bonds us, and that's what you misinterpreted."
Sam rocked back a little on the balls of his feet. "So? You going to let me take you out?"
Kurt wanted to say yes. He wanted to say yes badly, and fall back into Sam's hold, and see the movie with him. But both his recent conversation with his father, and the one with Finn weighed heavily on him. He had to start thinking of others, so he said, "I don't think that's a good idea."
Sam looked crestfallen, but nodded slowly. "I get it. All the best ones are taken."
"I … I'm not taken." He hadn't even been kissed before, Brittany withstanding.
"Just not interested?" Sam asked. He joked, "You can tell me, I can take the truth. It's the hair, isn't it?"
"As obtrusive as the dye job is," Kurt confirmed, "I'm saying no for your sake."
"Seems to me," Sam said bluntly, "if it were for my sake, you'd be giving me directions to your house. I have my saved up birthday money, an 89' Cavalier and a pretty big sweet tooth. I want to take you out, Kurt, and I'll back off if you're not interested, but I think I should get a valid reason."
Kurt's hands twisted on the strap of his gym bag. "People will see us."
Sam nodded easily. "I would think so."
"And," Kurt drew out, "but Monday morning everyone will know you took the resident fag out to lunch, and they'll speculate that I probably blew you during the movie. They'll start saying some pretty nasty stuff about you about then, and you may or may not find yourself smelling like garbage. The football team will make is especially difficult for you. It's their single goal in life, to be as judgmental and hostile towards people who don't conform to their acceptable social norms. I would be the catalyst for that happening to you."
Sam's hand dropped away and he took a step back, remarking, "You're really something else, Kurt. Did you know that?"
"Huh?"
Sam crossed his arms a bit defensively. "You don't need other people to beat you down, you get the job down pretty well by yourself. I think I'm pretty smart, and I didn't just decide to ask you out without thinking about the consequences first." But, the underlying message rang out, Sam had deemed Kurt more than worthy of the risk.
"You're a really nice guy," Kurt said, floundering a little. "I like that you were going to do the duet with me, before Finn decided to stick his nose where it didn't belong. And you were going to honor your word, right? I was the one who backed out. That's something I should thank you for, but I don't want to get you hurt. Being a Cheerio hasn't exactly put me at the top of the food chain."
"Kurt-"
"Someone called my dad before," Kurt said, eyes downcast. "They called at his shop and said something horrible about me. And it hurt him. That's the kind of behavior I deal with, and the kind that the people around me are exposed to. You can't just say you can take it, Sam. It doesn't work that way. I'm flattered, but no."
It took a lot, with his shoulders shaking, for Kurt to finally slip around Sam and head into the locker room. He was thankful, and a bit disappointed when Sam didn't follow after him. Kurt was able to shower and change in peace, and slipped into his house no later than an hour after Sam cornered him.
The next day Kurt felt a mixture of exposed and detached. Sam's words from the previous day lingered, and there was a rush of joy hidden just under the surface that Kurt relished in. A part of him had always wanted to be asked out, to be sought after and desired. Sam had only been asking him to a movie, but it had made him feel so special, even if only for a few, brief moments. He wanted the feeling again.
"I have history first period."
Kurt jumped a little, nearly dropping a book as he pulled it from his locker. "What? Sam?"
Sam was leaning next to him, wearing an easy smile and not looking at all bothered by Kurt's tone. He repeated, "I have history, first period, and you have math."
Kurt held up a lone finger. "When your mouth is as large as yours is, you shouldn't smile like that. It makes you look rather devious. Or like you might have Down Syndrome.
"I will choose to take that as a compliment." He plucked Kurt's book out his hands and closed the boy's locker for him. "Because you know not of my mouth and its possibilities."
Kurt gapped at him, letting Sam take him by the arm and lead him down the hallway.
"The funny thing about my history class, and your math class," Sam said merrily, the bell ringing behind them, "is that they're located right next to each other. So I can walk you there and I won't be late for my class."
Kurt hissed at him, aware of the people watching them, "What are you doing?"
"I talked to Mercedes last night," Sam informed him. "She says you have self-sacrificing tendencies, and that you're so busy being an angst filled teenager, that you won't allow yourself any happiness. So I'm going to take the initiative here."
"The initiative?"
"I'm walking you to class," Sam said, swinging Kurt expertly out of the way of a letterman jacket. "And I'm letting you know right now that I like you. I think I told you yesterday, but I want to be really clear. I like you, Kurt, and I don't care what anyone else has to say. Tomorrow I'm going to walk you to first period too. And then on Sunday I'm going to be at your house at exactly eleven. We'll go get lunch, see the movie, and then you can decided somewhere in between then if you want to kiss me or not when I drop you off." Sam stopped them in front of Kurt's classroom. "Is that okay with you? I'm only asking as a formality."
Kurt nodded slowly.
Sam handed his book back over. "Good. See you in glee."
When Sam showed up to glee later that day, his blue shirt stained a dark, slushie red, Kurt didn't say anything, mostly because of the bright grin that Sam has for him as he slid into the chair directly next to him.
Sam did walk Kurt to class the next morning, and Kurt was the one who ended up changing his clothes before the noon hour.
On Saturday, feeling a bit floundered, Kurt resigned to the fact that he had a date with Sam Evans. And as thrilling as the idea of his first date was, it meant one, very important thing.
"Dad," Kurt said, slipping into his father's office at the shop and closing the door to block out the mechanical sounds behind him. "We need to talk."
His father didn't look up from the paperwork he was shifting through, the buildup a result of the man's stay in the hospital earlier that month. "You can't have your credit card back," Burt said distractedly. "I haven't finished paying off the bill from the last time you suckered me into letting you have it back. I'm not made of money, Kurt. I know you like to look good, but-" He looked up then, eyes narrowing at the expression Kurt's face. "Sit down, kid."
Kurt sunk into the chair across from his father and folded his hands in his lap. "I don't want my credit card back." He may or may not have recently become aware of his ability to abuse the card that was supposed to be for emergencies. Though, he'd tried to argue with his father, some of the latest designs fresh from fashion week in Paris were an emergency."
"This is where we have a serious moment, right?" Burt asked.
"Yes," Kurt said carefully. "We need to reschedule our attempt to turn the house into suitable living conditions for Finn and his mother."
His father's head tilted. "I thought we agreed, this Sunday you're going to help me knock out a wall so we can get Finn out of that basement with you and into his own space. That's the root of the tension, right?" It was in a lot of ways. Living with Finn in such an enclosed space was trying on Kurt's patience, especially with the memories associated with the rooms. They existed, and mostly kept to each other, and it wasn't as bad as Kurt had expected it to be, but Finn needed his own room, and Kurt needed his space back.
"I'm sure you and Finn will survive without me making lemonade runs for you."
Burt frowned. "It's a family project, Kurt. You, me, Finn and Carole are all supposed to be working on it. It stops being a family thing when you back out."
Kurt blurted out, "I have a date."
"A date?"
Kurt nodded furiously. "A date."
"Who?" Burt asked, but the calm sounding tone was only a façade. Kurt knew his father, and he knew him well. His father often claimed he wasn't ready to broach the subject of boys with Kurt just yet, but there was a distinctly protective tone in the one word, and a promising threat just beyond that.
"His name is Sam," Kurt said carefully. "Sam Evans. He wants to take me to a movie."
"I take it you said yes."
Kurt bit his lip. "Not at first. I said no, initially. Then I said yes. It's … it's complicated. But I do want to go. I said yes and I don't know why I'm here." Maybe he was looking for validation, or approval, or just his father's mere presence. He wasn't asking permission, but he was hoping for a blessing.
"It occurs to me," Burt said, leaning back in his chair with a deep breath, "that we never got to talking about dating."
Awkwardly, Kurt reminded, "I don't think either of us thought I'd be dating in this cow town."
"This kid who wants to take you to the movies," Burt questioned, "is he out?"
Kurt hesitated. "It's hard to say. He's not denying it, at least I'm pretty sure, considering he's walked me to class twice now, and he hinted quite strongly that he'd like to kiss me, but he's not like … he's not like me, dad. He's on the football team, like Finn, and he goes to the gym and he's kind of the least archetypical gay representation you could find. He says he likes people for who they are, and he likes me, so I don't know if that means he's bisexual. I don't think it matters."
"Does Finn know this boy?"
"Dad," Kurt said testily.
"What? I don't get to cover my bases? Some boy wants to take you out and I'm supposed to fly blind?"
Kurt questioned, "Do you want his social security number for a full background check?"
"Don't get funny." Burt seemed to slump a little more. "He wants to take you to a movie?"
"My Fair Lady," Kurt supplied. "I guess the theater downtown is playing classics on the weekends now. It's an afternoon show, so I wouldn't be getting in late. I'd be home plenty early and it wouldn't hurt me at school the next day."
"Hands wander in theaters," Burt said tonelessly. "Mine did with your mother. How do you think you came along?"
Kurt's face scrunched up. "I highly doubt Sam will manage to get me pregnant."
Burt snapped his fingers. "Finn's dating that girl, Rachel is it, right?"
"Yes," Kurt said slowly, not liking her mention one bit. "What of her?"
"She likes those sorts of movies? How about you and Sam have a double date with Finn and Rachel."
Kurt surged to his feet. "Absolutely not!"
"Why?" his father demanded a bit roughly. "I think it would be good for you."
"Because," Kurt said ticking a finger off, "firstly, I can barely stand Rachel when we're forced to be in the same place at the same time, usually situations in which I can do nothing about her proximity to me. And second," he flipped another finger out, "you only want Finn there so Sam doesn't stand a chance of so much as putting his arm around me. Not to mention Finn's obviously still harboring some emotional issues with me, and I can only imagine how incredibly uncomfortable he'd be with Sam and I if he and Rachel came along. Dad, no."
"Well, I just don't like the idea of you being alone with him." Burt squirmed in his seat. "You don't have a lot of practice dating. You don't know how things can turn out."
"I'm not thirteen." Kurt crossed his arms. "And I don't need a chaperone. Sam is a really nice guy, and he'd never try and make me do anything, not like you're insinuating."
"I'm saying," Burt ground out, "he could pressure you, whether he realizes it or not."
Kurt put his hands firmly down on his father's work desk. "I am not going on a double date with Frankenteen and his kultzy girlfriend."
Burt leaned forward. "You're not thirteen, Kurt, but you are still my son, and I'm uncomfortable with you being alone for the first time with a boy who obviously has romantic intentions. Cut me some slack, I didn't know it would feel this unsettling."
"Finn and Rachel will ruin everything," Kurt all but moaned out. "Please, dad. Can I have this, please, just this once. Can I have Sam just to myself?"
His father looked away suddenly, then mumbled, "You like this kid?"
"I liked him from the start," Kurt answered promptly. "He can be a little dimwitted, and his humor needs work, but I like him. I know you're worried, I can see it on your face, but I can take care of myself."
"You're just so …" Burt trailed off, but Kurt knew what he had intended to say.
"Sam wouldn't hurt me," Kurt said. "He wouldn't. He's just a teenager like me. He's not some big bad wolf, he's not a predator, and he's not going to try and make a move on me, at least one that isn't wanted. Dad, he carries my books for me to class, and he takes slushies to the face for me. He gets called names and he doesn't care, and I believe him when he tells me that he'll wait for me to be ready to feel comfortable being pursued."
Burt scrubbed a hand over his face. "You bring him by the house, okay, Kurt?"
Kurt tried to keep a smile from completely overtaking his face. "Sam said he'll be by at eleven tomorrow."
Burt held up a threatening finger, "If I don't like him-"
"-then I will consent to a doubt date," Kurt assured. "But I think you're going to be surprised."
Thusly, with Kurt refusing to even consider the reality of double dating with his soon to be step-brother and his obnoxious girlfriend, Kurt coached Sam over the phone intensely before the boy even showed to pick him up on Sunday.
Kurt did not appreciate, for very firmly reasons, the solidarity Finn and his father's showed as they sat in the living room, not paying attention to the TV, listening for the doorbell. Kurt lingered in the foyer, wondering if he could head Sam off somehow, or warn him that Finn had taken up his father's cause and was attempting to be the big brother Kurt had never wanted.
"I told Rachel about My Fair Lady," Finn said to Burt. "She wants to go. Really. She flooded my inbox with requests. I may have to give in, or risk the doghouse."
Burt nodded sympathetically. "The key to a good relationship is knowing when to bite the bullet."
Kurt glared at both of them.
Sam was prompt, on time, and looked very handsome in a collared shirt. "Mr. Hummel," he greeted Kurt's father, then said to Kurt, "You look really nice." Kurt certainly did not blush.
"Sam," Finn offered, getting to his feet and moving over to the group.
"You're taking Kurt out to a movie?" Burt asked, and Kurt kept quiet that his father had know n well in advance where they'd be going.
"My Fair Lady," Sam said with a nod. "I saw it with my mom when I was little, and I was kind of hoping Kurt would want to watch it with me again."
"He did say yes," Finn pointed out.
Kurt remarked lowly, "That's very astute of you, Finn."
"Look," Burt said, and Kurt knew right away they were cutting to the chase. He'd anticipated as much, and forewarned Sam. The key to dealing with his father was to be upfront, honest, and genuine. His father was an easy going guy, even when it came to Kurt, which mean being personable went a long way. "Kurt isn't a little boy anymore and he doesn't need me to hover protectively around him." Kurt nearly cheered.
"But you are his father," Sam said in an understanding tone. "So you're worried that I could take advantage of him or something."
"You're bigger than him," Burt agreed, "and likely stronger. But I want you to understand, I am bigger and stronger than you, and if you hurt him, I will hurt you."
A bit dumbly, Finn held up a hand, "Me too. Kurt's my brother now. I'm really totally uncomfortable with you guys dating, but I'm pretty sure it's my job to watch out for him now."
"I'm not a preteen girl," Kurt point out, trying not to fidget with the zipper to his jacket.
"I understand," Sam said, looking between Finn and Burt.
"Just so we're clear," Burt said gruffly. "Because I know Kurt puts up with a lot, but I won't."
Kurt looped his arm through Sam's and began dragging him to the front door, announcing, "That's enough. We're going to lunch now. We'll be a the movies and Sam will have me home no later than five. If there's a problem, I'll call, otherwise, I'll see you both later." He emphasized the word both.
"I think," Sam said as he walked the distance to his car, "that went well."
Kurt scoffed, "Are you kidding? I'm sure my dad had a whole speech about removing your testacies if they happened to come near me at any point in our date. I just cut him off before e got the chance. And Finn was talking about taking Rachel to the movie before you arrived. Chances are, Finn will be under my dad's orders to shadow us the entire day. You can still back out now, if that scares you."
Sam arched an eyebrow. "I had a patriotic wedgie the other day, a gift from the hockey team. If you think I endured that for nothing, think again. Your dad isn't going to run me off, and neither is Finn."
Kurt climbed in the car, holding his tongue about the upholstery and decided he was going to like Sam even more than he'd originally expected.
Sam, as it turned out, was easy to talk to. He had charisma, and a real concern for making Kurt feel at ease. It was something Kurt hadn't known how to handle at first, at least not until Sam had slid into a booth in the diner next to him, crowded into his space as much as he dared, put a hand on top of Kurt's and said, "I'm taking you out on a date, not the entire town. You're kind of the only person I care about right now."
To say that Kurt was accepted, for all his flamboyance and uniqueness, was an outright lie, but aside from school, he wasn't generally subjected to jeering or abuse by the general public. He wasn't expecting the older waitress who asked them what they wanted to eat, to suddenly start a litany of verbal abuse. Still, he was nervous, and it bothered him that his own insecurities were the source of it all.
"The last time I took a boy out, he wasn't this jumpy," Sam pointed out. His knee was pressed against Kurt's under the table.
Kurt turned sharply towards him. "You've taken boys out before?"
Sam ran a finger against the glass of soda in front of him. "I went to an all boy's school before McKinnley. If I wanted to date a girl I had to go into town, and find someone who was willing to deal with the obvious distance between us. Sometimes it was just easier to date some of the guys I went to school with. I'm not saying that I came from a place of gay rainbows and boys prancing around with hearts in their eyes, but it wasn't a big deal for two guys to hold hands, not like it is here."
"It's hard," Kurt said a bit reluctantly, "getting used to you. You're … different."
"What? Because I don't throw you in dumpsters? Or make you feel like being gay is something you have to work on getting other people to tolerate?"
Now Kurt just felt depressed.
With a sigh, Sam leaned an elbow on the table. "I get the vibe from you that I'm probably not your first choice, and I'm okay with that, because I tried to woo a girl who's still in love with the guy she had a baby with."
"Quinn is still in love with Puck?" Kurt asked. "Wait, when was Quinn ever in love with Puck? The way she tells it there was alcohol involved when Beth was conceived and apparently she had low self esteem that day."
"I don't know any more than she said." Sam bumped their shoulders together. "What I do know is that all I'm asking for here is a chance to show you that second can be as good as first. And that I'm not playing some joke on you, I'm not going to embarrass you, or degrade you or anything like that. I just want to take a cute boy out for a burger and put my arm around him during the movie."
At that a smile broke onto Kurt's face. "Yeah?"
"Also, I'm really shallow and I may be sidelined from the football team for the moment, but when I get back on there, I'm going to be a star, and that means I'm going to need the hottest Cheerio at the school to be cheering exclusively for me."
"So you want me for my uniform?" Kurt asked, the remaining smile on his face giving him away. "I should have known."
"Maybe a little," Sam confessed, "because you look really good in it, and I've been watching. Other than that, it's all about you as a whole."
"Watching me? That could be construed as stalking."
"Probably," Sam said with a laugh. "I remember seeing you that first day, at lunch when you and the glee club performed the Jay-Z song. Then I saw you with the Cheerios after that. You stand out, Kurt. Even in a sea of people, you stand out."
"Just so you know," Kurt told Sam seriously, "you're earning major brownie points here."
They were half way through their meal before Kurt sensed a shift in the energy between himself and Sam. He noticed the way the older boy tensed, and meant to ask why when Sam said, "What's up with your friends?" Sam gestured and Kurt turned to look.
Across the diner, occupying one of the bigger tables Kurt could make out Mike and Tina, with Artie sitting across from them. A half second later Finn and Rachel slid in next to them.
"This is Finn's fault," Kurt said bluntly, setting his fork down. "It is."
"Maybe they're just here for the pie. Quinn's the one who told me about this place. She says she comes here and has pie in the off season. Apparently Cheerios aren't allowed to eat during the season?"
"Coach Sylvester would prefer that we starve ourselves to death," Kurt said, turning away from his friends and trying to imagine them away. "Myself and some of the other Cheerios especially. She says I have pear hips."
"I like your hips," Sam said a bit goofy. "And maybe Finn and your friends just came here for lunch."
"Absolutely not," Kurt said. "I have several gifts, I've already told you the three most prevalent ones. But I also have quite the knack for determining when people are being shady around me. This qualifies as a moment of that."
"Oh." Sam was quite for a moment, then offered, "You want to share my fries?"
Kurt sent a long glance at the pile of French fries, longing for them and their salty goodness. His own salad seemed a horrible substitute for the wonderfully greasy food. "Maybe," he gave in, "just a few."
By the time Puck appeared in the diner, Santana under one arm and Brittany under another, Kurt felt his suspicions were properly filled.
"My guess," Kurt told Sam quietly, "is that my dad had a sudden fit of despair, imagined you doing all sorts of horrible things to me, and enlisted Finn, who spoke to Rachel, who harped on the entire glee club to come here and keep an eye on us. I'll be right back, okay?"
"Not the entire club," Sam protested as Kurt stood up. "And it's not that big of a deal. Your dad is probably just being protective. I can handle this. It's no big deal."
"Not for you," Kurt insisted. "But for me …" Kurt shook his head. "Excuse me a moment."
"Okay," Sam said, popping a French fry in his mouth.
Kurt stalked deliberately over to Finn, crossed his arms and demanded, "What did he promise to give you?"
Finn's eyebrows rose. "Huh?"
"Kurt-"
"What did he promise you?" Kurt demanded. "I know my father. He's a very nice guy, Finn, but he's not one to let things like this go. So tell me now, get it out of the way, and I won't spend the next two weeks, or however long it takes to get your room ready, playing Barbra Streisand at a very loud volume at every waking opportunity."
Fumbling, Finn rushed to say, "He's not trying to keep an eye on you."
"Sam then?"
"I for one," Rachel broke in, "would actually like to the see the movie."
Kurt's eyes widened, "You are not going to the movie too."
"Relax," Mike said, slipping an arm around Tina's shoulders. "Rachel's the one who called us, and we all decided it would be cool to see the movie together. We're going to meet Quinn and Mercedes at the theater."
Dully, Finn said, "Your dad said he'd take me to the Buck Eye's opening day if I made sure Sam kept everything at a PG level."
"Finn," Rachel hissed lowly.
"What?" the tall teenager demanded. "Kurt's right. If I just tell him now he'll make it a lot less painful in the end."
"And I suppose Puck just decided to broaden his tastes in movies," Kurt questioned, pointing to the teen across the diner. "I don't know who you think you're kidding, or what you think you're trying to pull, but you are not going to ruin this for me, Finn Hudson. I like Sam, and he likes me. I don't care about how uncomfortable that makes you feel, or if you think you can suddenly try and be a big brother or whatever is going through your mind. This is my date, not the glee club's and if you ruin this for me, so help me god, I will make your life a living hell until you turn eighteen and leave for whatever college is stupid enough to admit you."
Finn looked hurt, and mumbled, "Harsh, dude."
And instantly Kurt regretted his words. He took a deep breathe and said, "Finn, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."
Their friends were doing their best to look inconspicuous, aside from Rachel who was blatantly listening, as Finn said, "I know I've said some pretty crappy things to you in the past about Sam and about how you come off to people. I think I stuck my foot in my mouth. But I'm not here to try and ruin your date, and I'm not here just because your dad promised to take me of an Ohio State football game."
"Then why?" Kurt asked, deflating a little. Finn seemed so sincere.
Nervously, Finn revealed, "Because you are kind of like my kid brother now."
"I'm a month younger than you. Three weeks, technically."
"And," Finn continued with a frown on his face, "because you're my brother, it means I have to look out for you. Sam is a nice guy, I know that, but …"
"You don't have to do anything," Kurt said furiously. "Our parents getting married does not mean you suddenly have an obligation to me. If you want to make sure I'm okay you're supposed to do it because you care about me, and not because it's expected. Does that make sense to you?"
Finn opened his mouth to respond but Kurt spun on heel, heading back to Sam.
"You okay?" Sam asked him
Hands on his hips, Kurt nodded. "Yes. Are you ready to leave?"
Sam glanced down at his watch. "We're a little early but we can head to the theater now if you want."
Kurt struggled to maintain a smile. "That's fine."
Fishing for his wallet, Sam said softly, "If you don't want to go, I'll understand. You don't look overjoyed at the idea right now."
"It's not you," Kurt rushed to say, keeping attention on Sam as they passed by Puck, Santana and Brittany.
Once they were back in the car Sam rubbed a hand at the back of his neck and offered, "Maybe we could skip the movie?"
"Oh," Kurt said, feeling disappointed. "If you want to take me home that's okay."
Sam shook his head with a laugh. "I didn't mean I wanted to take you home, I just think I have a better idea of where we can go."
Kurt nodded immediately. "Sure. Where?"
Sam slid his keys into the ignition. "How about you let me surprise you?"
Settling back into the car seat, Kurt gave one last look to the diner. "Sounds good to me."
"Here's the thing," Sam explained as they drove along, heading to a part of Lima that Kurt couldn't say he frequented often, "my dad moved us around a lot when I was a kid. My mom did her best to make it okay for me, even though I ended up in a new school just about every year. We had this tradition of sorts. I want to share it with you, if you don't mind."
"You did a lot with your mom growing up?" Kurt asked quietly.
"I guess it's okay for girls to have their mom as their best friend," Sam said, "and a little awkward for guys, but my mom is my best friend. She has been since I was little. We did everything together when I was younger ,and we still do a lot together now. Are you and your mom close?"
"She died, about ten years ago."
"Sorry," Sam apologized immediately. "I didn't know."
"I know," Kurt said easily. "It's okay. I just wondered about you. And don't feel sorry for me. I have my dad, and he's my world."
"Your dad is scary," Sam said abruptly.
Kurt turned to look at him. "You didn't seem that scared when you picked me up."
"Are you kidding?" Sam scoffed. "I may have peed my pants a little. I was expecting him to tell me he has a shotgun in the garage and fully believing in his second amendment right to bear it."
Kurt happened to glance out the window at the bright sign in front of them as they pulled into a parking lot. Feeling a bubble of excitement, he asked, "We're playing miniature golf?"
"Good alternative or bad alternative?"
Kurt could hardly wait to get out of the car as he exclaimed, "Very good. I haven't played in years."
"I figure your dad is going to kill me," Sam said, shutting off the car and getting out. "Finn will probably tell him the second that we don't show, and he'll assume that I've kidnapped you. So if this is the last time I'm going to get to see you before he kills me, we should have fun, and away from your friends who probably mean well, but really shouldn't be with us."
"He won't kill you," Kurt assured, daring to slide his fingers through Sam's and hold his hand. "The shotgun isn't even loaded. Now, come on."
As far as first dates went, Kurt was certain he'd gotten the cream of the crop. After the potentially disastrous situation at the diner, he and Sam had played several rounds of golf, Sam standing behind him and gripping his hips as he coached him through a more difficult hole, and then hit up the arcade attached to the miniature golf course. Kurt shared a bag of cotton candy with Sam and wondered, with Sam sitting next to him and brushing at Kurt's bangs which the wind had pushed out of place, if this was exactly what being a teenager was supposed to feel like. If it was, and he hoped it was, it pained him to know how much he'd been missing before Sam had come along.
"I guess I should get you home," Sam said reluctantly as the sun began to dip in the sky.
For Kurt, it was the longest drive he'd ever endured.
"I guess Finn isn't back yet," Kurt observed as he and Sam sat in the car in front of Kurt's house. Neither Finn's beat-up truck was missing from the driveway, and a glance at Kurt's watch told him that his father was likely at the shop. They probably had the whole house to themselves, and for that Kurt was thankful. "Did you want to come in?"
"Depends," Sam said, a cheesy smile on his face. "How much thought have you given to kissing me?"
Kurt swallowed hard, nervous and nearly panicky, then he leaned over the center consul, braced a hand on Sam's thigh and pressed his lips against the jock's. Kurt was, by no means, a good kisser. Brittany hadn't given him any complaints, but Kurt knew he was inexperienced and even less familiar with how male lips felt. But then Sam was responding, and Kurt felt a heavy hand cup the side of his jaw, bringing him in closer and urging his mouth open.
It was impossible for Kurt to determine how long they held their positions, Kurt pushing further into Sam's hold and Sam tugging him along. It seemed like an eternity of pleasure and want and need all in one, but eventually he felt Sam push gently on him.
"Kurt," Sam breathed out, his forehead pressing against Kurt's. "I really like you."
"I like you too," Kurt said back. His lips were tingling, and they felt puffy and he was certain he looked exactly like he'd just been kissed senseless.
"So," Sam said, ducking in for a brief, chaste kiss, "as much as I want to come in, I think I shouldn't."
"No?" Kurt asked, confused.
"No," Sam confirmed. "If I do, then your father is going to have a new reason to want to murder me. Or maybe just suspicions confirmed."
"Alright, alright," Kurt admitted, feeling frazzled. "You're right." He made to leave the car when Sam caught his wrist. He was certain he was going to be kissed again, or maybe even better, but the jock on squeezed gently and held on. "Sam?"
"I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay?"
Sam let go and Kurt got out, his ears ringing and his heart pounding. He was certain there was a foolish looking smile on his face, but he was held at peace by the mirrored look on Sam's as he drove away.
The following morning Kurt had barely popped open his locker, and was in the process of sorting through its contents when he felt someone saunter up behind him and invade his personal space. He had a brief moment of fear, but then he smelled a hint of cheap cologne and recalled the scent from the day previous.
"Hey," Sam offered, hands fisted in his letterman's jacket.
Kurt had wondered if there would be an awkward moment between the two of them, so he responded cautiously, "Hi."
"How'd it go last night?" Sam asked.
Kurt pulled his math book free of his locker. "As expected, Finn flew into a panic when we didn't show at the theater. I had my phone off the entire time, which only heightened his alarm, and he alerted my dad after he stopped fearing what his reaction could be. There was a lecture waiting for me when he got home, and my dad tried very hard to be stern, but I think he understood that I didn't want to be pressured or watched or pushed. It helped that I told him I had a great time."
Sam looked proud. "You had a great time."
"I told him," Kurt said, closing his locker, "that if you wanted to ask me out again, I'd probably say yes, and that I was thinking of asking you over for dinner sometime soon."
"That's funny." Sam plucked the book from Kurt's fingers. "Mostly because my mom asked me to have you over this weekend. She wants to meet you. My dad does too, he just won't admit it until he likes you. And he will."
"So then," Kurt hoped.
"It's a date," Sam finished for him. Then he wrapped his fingers around Kurt's wrist, and all Kurt could think of was the moment in the car the day previous, after kissing, where Sam had held him in place. "Let me walk you to class?"
"Is this going to be a daily thing?" Kurt asked. He could see Mercedes over Sam's shoulder, her eyes wide but encouraging.
"I'm pretty sure we're about to spend the next few years at McKinnley high being slushied, called horrible names, and being made fun of because we like each other. Why not suffer together? Misery loves company. Plus, my mom told me this morning, a good boyfriend always walks his boyfriend to class. She was very serious. I hope you don't mind I told her about Sunday. I kind of tell her everything."
"Boyfriend?" Kurt sputtered, blinking slowly.
Sam's shoulders dipped a little. "I was kind of hoping you'd want to be my boyfriend, after I properly woo you, of course, and prove to your dad that I'm not going to disappear with you again. That is, if you're interested, and I'm kind of hoping you are, because you did kiss me back yesterday."
Curiously, Kurt gestured for Sam to follow after him and the two of them headed towards Kurt's first class. "Just one question first."
"Shoot."
"Deal breaker," Kurt advised. "You're joining the baseball team, right?"
"Shortstop," Sam informed. "It was that or basketball, but I think Finn might be upset if I joined another sport he's the star of."
Kurt eyed Sam carefully, then asked, "What's your view on stirrup pants?"
Sam was clearly off guard, and he responded after a significant delay, "Practical?"
"Okay," Kurt breathed out. "I can work with that. I can teach you. I can fix you."
"Um …" Sam said, clearly unsure.
"My dad will grow to like you," Kurt continued on. "And Finn will learn to stand you."
"Can I kiss you again?" Sam asked. "Sometime soon?"
Kurt curled his fingers up, catching Sam's on his wrist, and sliding their fingers together. "My dad says I'm high maintenance. I think you should know that before you invest in me anymore than you already have."
"Dude," Sam said confidently, "I have about fifteen girl cousins. I know about high maintenance. I think I can handle you."
"Good." Kurt squeezed Sam's hand.
That afternoon, clothes ruined by a blueberry slushie and Kurt's shoulder aching from where he'd been smashed into a bank of lockers, Kurt dragged Sam into his car and pressed his lips against the taller boy's. He hummed happily and let himself get lost in the feeling of Sam's safe and secure grip, and the way his stomach fluttered happily every time Sam touched him.
This, Kurt was sure, more than ever, was the best part of being a teenager.