Pre-Kum; the product of me being on the verge of tears/moody/pissy all day and listening to Linkin Park and wanting to write Kum, so enjoy. Also, Meteora was LP's best album. Just sayin'.
It's easier to run.
Sam didn't mean for anyone to catch him in the choir room, but Kurt somehow managed to, anyways. Something about forgetting a jacket (that one that Sam thinks looks amazing on him—red seems to be his color). He looks away, burying his face in his calloused hands to try and hide the tear stains on his face behind his blonde mop. It's too late, though, because Kurt saw and when he asks Sam "What's wrong?" it's in that voice that's gentle and he knows that unlike the others, Kurt actually cares.
He didn't mean to start breaking down again, either, but he can't help it because he's so fucking tired of hiding from his problems and pretending to be all the things that he can't stand, but it's so much easier for his family and he's willing to give up his own happiness if it means it's better for them. No phone calls, no threats, no profane slurs their way at all, unlike how it was before they moved.
Kurt's hand is on Sam's shoulder, and he suddenly pulls Kurt so close that he's practically in his lap, clinging to him as if he'll disappear in a heartbeat. Kurt doesn't protest, though—he just rubs Sam's back as Sam leaves a wet spot where his face is buried in Kurt's shoulder.
The words slipped from his mouth without a second thought, the confession being repeated into the red fabric over and over again. I'm gay. He was about to push Kurt away and ask that he forgets this ever happened, but then Kurt hugs him tighter, murmuring softly, "It's okay, Sam."
And Sam believes him.