My goodness, long time no see on this story! Well, thanks for the reviews and fave's and such, and i do hope you still want to read this after such a hiatus. Basically my other Kum fic took over and then i ended up with a Kurtofsky on the boiler and well... i'm here now, 'kay?
Anyway, i hope you all like this!
To clear some stuff up: This is the finish up of the chapters, and then there will be a short epilogue, because i ended up getting where i wanted to go with this in this chapter, though goodness it ran away with me. Also, Sam was with Quinn, but they broke up obvs, but he never got with Santana at all, so there's no Samtana in here to worry about. And obviously because of when i started writing, Kurt is still at Dalton, although he isn't happy there. Also, his parents aren't poor, they have a nice, normal house and don't have money problems at all, because again, i started writing before Rumours and it just wouldn't work. Hope that's fine by everyone.
Oh, consider Glee disclaimed...
Anyway, enjoy,
Over and out x
The first thing Sam noticed when he awoke the next morning was the fact that has was sleeping on the sofa instead of his bed.
The second was that the overhead light was on and his mom was going to kill him for wasting electricity.
The third was that there was an angel sleeping on his chest.
It was that third one that made him go from very nearly actually dozing to fully awake in about three milliseconds flat.
He had nearly convinced himself that the previous night had been a dream, that he hadn't rescued Kurt from a bad break-up and a broken down car and then invited him back to his house and ended up letting him stay the night. But apparently it hadn't been, and Sam was ecstatically happy about it.
Because he had never envisaged a universe where he would get to wake up with Kurt Hummel asleep on his chest, even if it wasn't quite for the reasons he would have hoped, but somehow fate had actually managed to not kick him up the ass and then spit on him as it left, which is what he had a feeling it normally relished doing.
He basked in the sensation and just stared down at the boy wrapped around him, Kurt's arms curving around his chest and hugging him tightly while his legs tangled with Sam's, one foot hanging off the edge of the couch in a way that he found extremely adorable. At some time in the night he must have moved around a lot, and it was evidenced byt the state of his clothes and hair.
Sam wished he'd thought to get Kurt something else to wear the previous night, rather than letting him fall asleep in his clothes, something he was sure he was going to be lampooned for, but he just hadn't been thinking when he had walked into the room to see Kurt bawling his eyes out again over a photo of himself in his uniform. It was so obvious that it reminded Kurt of Blaine - or that slick hobbit, as Sam had suddenly taken to calling him - and he just knew he should have seen it and moved it or something, but he hadn't.
So he had forgotten all about the hot chocolates, which he could still see in all their resplendant cold glory perched on the coffee table, and rushed over to help Kurt, screwing up the photo as he went, ending up letting him fall asleep on his lap as he gently stroked his hair and hummed a lullaby his mom used to sing for him.
Which all meant that Kurt's clothes had been through the wringer as he tossed and turned, and they now looked much more like the contents of Sam's washing basket than anything Kurt would normally deem passable. He had got changed out of his uniform before he had left Dalton, and now his jeans were twisted slightly, one leg riding up his calf as far as such tight jeans could, and his shirt was excessively crumpled, enough wrinkles that even Sam probably wouldn't consider wearing it. But then again, he mainly wore t-shirts and hoodies, so that wasn't a very good comparison.
The jacket that he had been wearing was flung over the back of the sofa behind Kurt's feet and his shoes were shoved under the table haphazardly, as if they had been thrown and just managed to land under it. This lack of smartness was very definitely what Kurt would think was a disaster, but Sam thought it made him look much less prim and proper, especially combined with his now-messy hair. It was a look that Kurt definitely worked and Sam definitely liked.
Said hair had lost all it's styled glory and was instead soft and strokable, mussed and looking like someone had run their hands though it a lot of times. (If asked Sam would swear on a stack of bibles* that he had never ever touched Kurt's hair. Ever Your Honour.) There were a few brunette strands falling over the soprano's closed eyes, fluttering up and down occasionally as they were caught in the soft breath as Kurt snorted gently.
But it wasn't any of those things that made Sam so sure that the being on his chest was definitely more godlike than human. It was the pale, perfectly sculpted face of the boy resting on him, the slightly accented cheekbones and the fluttering eyelids as if he was having a good dream, his soft, rosy cheeks that Sam knew flushed an extremely pretty red when the boy was upset of embarassed. And it was also quite possibly the plump, crimson lips that Kurt posessed and the sculpted eyebrows, put to such great use whenever Kurt wanted to be disdainful, along with the covered but no less perfect deep blue eyes that the delicate eyelids covered as he slept.
Sam was aching to reach out and touch him, to stroke the back of his hand down Kurt's face or press another soft kiss to his pale forehead. But he knew he couldn't because if he did that Kurt would wake up and the spell would be broken. He had to be very careful how much he moved around so as not to jostle Kurt, and he was pretty sure that freeing an arm to caress his face would come under the category of 'movement'.
So, he sat and watched at Kurt breathed in and out for a while more, alternatively humming softly to himself and gently blowing onto Kurt's hair to watch it dance under his breath. But in time he felt himself getting sleepy again so, checking that he wasn't disturbing Kurt and that he was still comfortable, he closed his eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep again, Kurt's body warm in his arms.
Kurt's first sense to come back to him after what he thought might have been the most relaxing and invigorative night's sleep he'd ever had was smell.
He was used to an everpresent but very slight smell of fresh paint in the mornings, and sometimes coffee depending on whether someone else was up before him. He always smelt whichever fabric softener Carole had tried that week and an odd but definitely familiar collection of scents such as the ones from his designer clothes when he awoke, but that morning something was off, and he couldn't smell any of it.
Instead, he could distinctly smell the airfreshner that they had tried one time but had stopped buying after Finn realised that he was mildly alergic to, but that Kurt had loved. Which should have been his first clue. He could also smell something which for some reason set his heart pounding and his toes curling. It was musky, a soft yet somehow extremely masculine smell, not a body spray or a deoderant but just a natural male aroma, something that made his mouth water.
The next sense to assault him was taste, and he immediately recognised the bitter, acrid taste that felt like something had crawled in his mouth and if not died then at least made its litter box there. Kurt could tell just from that that he hadn't brushed his teeth the night before, and he was as upset as it was possible to be in his drowsy state when he realised it.
Also, he couln't taste any food or anything unlike the previous times that he had experianced such a feeling, and he couldn't figure out why until it dawned on him that he hadn't eated dinner the night before and that he was therefore starving.
Which led him onto sense three, his ears perking up as if they expected to hear the clinking of coffee mugs any second.
However, though the coffee mugs didn't ever sound he began to notice other things, such as the way his ever so slightly uneven breathing was interspersed with extra even, easy, deep breaths that were mainly in time with his own, leading him to think that maybe he was just going a little crazy.
The second sound was the even ticking of the clock that he could tell was hung on the wall behind him, seemingly mocking him with it's hypnotic and lulling rhythm. He had never had ticking clocks in his room because he didn't like the repetative sound, and he much preferred digital display clocks to those with actual hands, but the steady ticking was actually quite soothing, and he thought if he concentrated on it enough it would make him more sleepy and not less sleepy.
However, the next thing in his sensory overload was the realisation that he wasn't actually lying on a bed at all, rather he was pressed up against a very warm, soft, yet hard surface, something Kurt just wanted to sink into and get lost in, be swallowed up by because it was that comfortable that he didn't want to ever move.
He could feel his arms wrapped around whatever it was, and his fingers, as he wiggled them, came into contact with something soft and smooth and very warm. But when he moved his hand more they brushed up against something that he could tell staright away, even in his sleepy state, was denim. Which confused him as to what the first material was if it was covered in denim.
Wait.
It wasn't...
It wouldn't be?
He was lying on someone.
And a tall, well built, toned someone if what he could feel was correct.
But all that didn't make sense. Who would he be lay on?
Finn? No, the taller boy may be his step brother and cool with him, but he wouldn't ever let him fall asleep on his chest.
And he was sure as hell it wasn't his dad.
So who?
Squeezing his arms that little bit tighter he shifted slightly and then slowly opened one eye, looking up into the bright light that was filling the room and giving himself time to adjust to the glare.
When his eyes had stopped being quite so blurry he tilted his head and could just make out a mop of bright blonde hair and a tanned face...
Oh god. He'd fallen asleep on Sam Evans.
Which was right about when the events of the previous night came back in full force and he had to forcibly restrain himself from sitting straight up like he'd seen people do in movies.
He remembered it all, his fight with Blaine over the older boy's flirting and his tendancy to buy cheap presents as apologies for things he shouldn't have been doing to apologise for in the first place. Then his impromptu song, which he thought of fondly as he remembered the shocked look on Blaine's face as he belted it out in the hallways as the 'curly haired hobbit' (Puck's phrase) was want to do.
His breakdown by the side of the road was coming back in flashes through his still slightly sleep addled brain, but he could definitely picture Sam turning up, getting in the car with him, sitting there and holding him tight as he cried over Blaine. Urrgh, even the name made him shudder in disgust.
The taller boy had just let him pour it all out then patched him back up and allowed him to pull himself together, before leaving when Kurt had asked him to, to save himself from any more embarassment.
Which hadn't gone exactly to plan, seeing as his car had broken down and Sam had ended up driving him home. Except not to his home, he had driven back to his own and insisted that Kurt stay with him, because he didn't want his family seeing him like he was. Instead he had ushered Kurt inside and tried to cheer him up, if Kurt remembered correctly offering him hot chocolate and joking over his dorkiness.
Which led Kurt to the horrifying conclusion of his day from hell, having Sam walk back into the room to fing him blubbering over a picture of the formerly brunette (Kurt knew it was dye) boy in the uniform from his previous, all because it had reminded him of that slick hobbit!
He couldn't believe, in the cold light of day, that he'd ever cried over him.
He could only imagine what Sam had been thinking, coming back in to the room to see the only-just-re-composed Kurt bawling his eyes out over a photo of someone who wasn't even his actual ex-boyfriend.
He probably thought he was a complete basket case and had only let him stay out of pity, sympathy for the poor gay kid who just broke up with his first ever boyfriend. Which just made Kurt want to die, quickly and preferably painlessly, like if the world were to become a huge cliché and open up and swallow him whole, which he really wouldn't have minded.
But he supposed that at least it had been Sam who had found him at the side of the road, not Azimio or Sanderson, one of the football or hockey guys. Hell, he would have taken Sue Sylvester over them. Sam had instead been perfect and the archetypal knight in jeans and a t-shirt, and he guessed that he should probably do something to thank his host before he had to go back to Dalton or worse, face Burt and Carole.
He wriggled his limbs experimantally and realised that as it was him hugging Sam (he was so glad the other boy hadn't woken up yet) he could actually lift himself off the blond with ease, even if retrieving his car keys from where they fallen from his pocket, down behind Sam's back, took skill. He tried not to think of the muscle residing just under his fingertips as he did so. He felt he'd probably done enough accidental molesting when he'd been asleep.
After he'd disentangled both himself and his possessions from Sam's living room couch he did a quick scan of the room and found that the picture that he had been upset over the night before had been flipped so that it was resting upside down on the mantlepiece. Smiling at the thought that Sam had bothered to turn it he decided that as he was most definitely not going to be shedding any more tears on Blaine he should probably just flip it back the right way up.
But as he reached the fireplace and grasped the ornamented frame, standing the photo up, he got a shock.
The photo had not only been tuned to face the shiny marble surface, Sam had actually remved the enitre thing, leaving only the frame and it's gleaming glass insert.
He was astounded at the effort Sam had put into making sure he didn't get upset again and it was giving him a choking feeling in his chest that he was frantically trying to assure himself wasn't tears. How was it that the boy he had thought he had loved couldn't even remember his favourite food or what he liked to see in the cinema, but Sam had gone to the lengths of hiding a photo of himself just because it had momentarily upset Kurt.
He hadn't even seen the blond do it, didn't even know he'd had the time.
Shaking his head in an effort to stop himself being so damn sentimental he pushed back off the marble fireplace and wandered out into the hallway, after having taken one last look at the sleeping Sam.
He looked adorable, flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelids as his dyed blond hair stuck up at all angles, bits raised into the air and others smoothed down, his rising and falling chest making them shift ever so slightly.
Kurt couldn't see his eyes but he could see the soft looking eyelids that covered them and he could also see the plump lips that Sam was teased about so much. Personally Kurt had never seen what was so wrong with Sam's lips. Sure, they weren't the smallest lips ever, but they were in pretty good proportion with his face and the were red and soft and they looked incredibly kissable...
Oh god, no!
He could not be thinking things like that, not so soon after he broke up with Blaine and especially not about straight guys who Finn had already warned him off once. It was just a manifestation of his anger at Blaine, and his desire to be loved and appreciated. Yeah, that was what it was. Nothing more.
Trying to cloud out his thoughts with song lyrics and meaningless trivia he bustled properly into the hallway, before locating the kitchen and hoping the Evans' wouldn't mind if he used some of their food to make himself and Sam breakfast. After all, it was the least he could do, seeing as he had ruined Sam's afternoon, practically taken over his house, become a weeping mess on his floor and then half molested him in his sleep.
He searched out the ingredients for pancakes and then set to work mixing the batter.
The second time Sam woke up he could tell something was different almost straight away.
The comforting pressure on his chest had vanished and it had instead been replaced by thin air and a chill where before there had been a warm body.
Opening his eyes he glanced briefly around the room and realised that Kurt wasn't there at all any more. The room suddenly felt much colder than it had and he sat up blearily and wiped the sleep out of his eyes, checking his phone and noting that it was ten past ten. He was extremely glad it was a Saturday because he would have hated to have had to gone to school after the exhausting day he'd had the day before.
Standing up slowly he stretched, not caring that his t-shirt rode dangerously high up his stomach, and then looked around himself, wondering why the room seemed different that it had the previous time, apart from Kurt not being in it any more.
There was sunlight streaming in through the thin curtains and making patterns on the floor where it came through one of his mom's weird hanging crystal things, little rainbows splaying out from the twirling gem as in hung from the ceiling in front of the window, but he didn't think it was that.
The fact that the room was much lighter would have masked the glare of the electric light anyway but Sam could tell that it had been turned off, obviously Kurt had got more sense than him and actually cared about the environment enough to turn lights and such off. He was just glad his mom hadn't seen it on all night long, because he knew that she would have had a lot to say on the subject.
But apart from that the room seemed unchanged, yet he still had a niggling in the back of his mind telling him that something was off.
He sat back down on the couch, bracing his hands on his knees and really studying the room. A few seconds passed and suddenly he was jumping up, striding over to the fireplace. The thing that had changed was that the picture frame on his mantlepiece, the one he had turned over the previous night so that it wouldn't upset Kurt any more than it already had done, was stood the right way up again.
Still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Kurt had got up before him and actually gone over and turned the picture frame the right way up, he suddenly noticed the delicious smell issuing from the direction of the kitchen. It was accompanied by clanging and the sounds of someone walking around and Sam abruptly realised that Kurt was still in his house, and by the sound and smell of it he was making breakfast.
Walking out into the hall he paused at the kitchen doorway as he saw the smaller boy flitting between the cooker and the sideboard as he stirred something in a large jug and then poured it into a frying pan which was sizzling and spitting as he shook it.
He had been right in his assessment that Kurt's clothes would be irrovocably crumpled, but somehow the messy look only served to make him look even more adorable.
Well, if you pushed hard enough he would probably admit that it made Kurt look quite hot.
Taking his time so that he didn't startle the brunette, Sam walked through the door and made his way over to where Kurt was standing at the cooker, picking the frying pan up and shaking it around again as he put the spatula down. Sam only had time to notice the plate of finished pancakes on the table before he saw Kurt's wrist flick up out of the corner of his eye.
Kurt smiled as he shifted the pancake around in the pan, making sure that none of it was stuck to the bottom, before he expertly flicked his wrist and watched it soar up into the air, flying possibly three or four feet up before gracefully flipping over and falling back down perfectly into the pan.
It was a skill that had taken long hours of practice and much pancake eating on his dad's part, but it was worth it, just to know he could. He had always loved cooking and the ability to flip pancakes like a pro may be trifling but he still loved it.
As he set the pan back on the stove he heard a slow clapping start up behind him and turned around in shock, nearly knocking the pan off in the process.
Sam was stood behind him, an awed and amused look on hia face as he tore off a bit of one of the pancakes and quickly chewed it up, before smiling at Kurt and saying "That was awesome. You're a great cook dude."
"Don't call me dude."
Sam just laughed as Kurt scowled and instead nodded and said "Okay, well that was one of the best pancakes i've ever had Your Highness Prince Kurt."
He walked even further into the room and went round to stand next to Kurt, watching as the petite soprano laughed at his proclamation, sliding the last pancake onto the plate as his did so before he placed the frying pan in the sink. He squirted in washing up liquid then pratically skipped back to the table in the middle, looking at Sam as if he was asking for permission to sit and eat the food he had made.
Sam laughed, "Kurt you can sit down you know, i'm not going to yell at you or anything. You just made me breakfast so even if i was mad at you or anything, you would have officially won me over completely with amazing food."
Grinning, Kurt pulled out the chair he was stood in front of and sat down, placing his own plate in front of him and daintily placing two of the giant stack of pancakes onto his plate before cutting into them.
He had eaten most of his first pancake while they sat in companionable silence before he looked up and saw Sam looking at him as he himself scarfed down the rest of the pile at an inhuman pace. When he finally had to smirk at the look of pain that crossed Sam's features when he realised that he'd finished them all, Sam just rolled his eyes, which Kurt had to admit was comical more than sarcastic.
Swallowing the final mouthful, he said "So... how are you feeling this morning?"
He could tell just from looking at him that on the surface Kurt was fine, but he was unsure what the smaller boy was really feeling underneath. He had come to realise, even from the few months he had spent with Kurt at McKinley, that he was very adept at putting on a mask to obscure his real emotions. And while it was very helpful in beating what he had heard Kurt call the 'Neanderthals' it made deciphering his feelings much harder than it could have been.
Kurt just smiled dryly and said "Well, i'm feeling much better than i was yesterday, thankfully. That said, i'm not exactly about to burst into song and go skipping round talking about fairies and rainbows."
As Sam just looked at him encouragingly and smiled softly he continued, closing his eyes as he spoke.
"Quite obviously, i've just broken up with my boyfriend. Which isn't exactly one of the most fantasmical things i've ever experienced, but i'll recover, and to be honest i'm glad it happened. It was getting to the point where it was fucking ridiculous."
He had never actually heard Kurt swear before that he could recall, and it shocked him for a secong before he realised that Kurt was still speaking.
"-and gifts, which i already told you about, so i won't get into that. But basically while i'm so pleased that i'm not stuck in that kind of relationship with that slick hobbit any more, it still hurts, because i thought i loved him, y'know?"
When he had asked it he had meant it as an actual question, but what he didn't expect was for Sam to look at him oddly for a few seconds and then burst out laughing hysterically. It took him a moment to fully grasp what was happening but when he did he just sat and stared at Sam perplexedly, wondering what he had said or done that amused him so much.
He was starting to get worried and paranoid about everything being one big joke when Sam finally calmed down enough to speak.
"Sorry Kurt i... I didn't mean anything, i was just... it's just that..." He continued to chuckle and utter half formed sentences in between until he stopped the laughter properly and turned to Kurt with a smile in his eyes, saying "I thought the same thing to myself earlier, called him a slick hobbit, so it seems like we're on the same wavelength or something."
Sam chuckled again and Kurt just rolled his eyes, knowing that Sam was thinking all kinds of sci-fi things as he stared off into the distance, his head tilting to one side.
He waved a hand on front of the blond's face and said "Hello? Earth to Sam?"
As he snapped back to reality and put on his puppy dog apologetic face, saying sorry for spacing out, Kurt was hit with the sudden thought of 'He's so adorkable and cute'.
He had to stop himself from metaphorically, or possibly literally, slapping himself on the wrist or telling himself he didn't mean it as thoughts of Blaine's flirting crept into his head, reminding him that he could find whomever he wanted cute. Sure, he couldn't vocalise any of his feelings or even flirt overly much, but it didn't mean he couldn't have feelings at all. He was a free man and he could do his fair share of window shopping too.
Sam was torn out of his reverie when Kurt started comically waving a hand around in front of his face, nearly hitting his nose such was it's proximity. He made a pouting 'sorry' face and then grinned as Kurt laughed at him, leaning back over the table to scrape up the crumbs of his last pancake, the seriousness of their earlier conversation all but forgotten.
However, he wasn't quite ready to let it go just yet, so he stood up and cleared his plates away, humming as he did the washing up, before he turned around to see Kurt smirking at him from where he sat, still at the table/breakfast bar.
"Look at you all domesticated Sammy Evans." He joked, squealing as suds flew at him as Sam flicked the water up and towards him.
"Don't get anything on my clothes!"
Sam chortled, "Kurt, your clothes are already ruined, or at least crumpled up and slept in, so i don't think a bit of bubbles will do you any harm.
However, as he advanced on him, the washing up completed, Kurt still shrieked playfully and skittered backwards, backing through the doorway and into the hall, where Sam laughed when he saw his eyes dart to the lounge door.
Kurt grinned at him and then ran, darting in through the open door and letting it swing shut behind him, as Sam followed quickly and pushed through it, coming to a complete standstill as he made it through the doorway.
He couldn't see Kurt anywhere, and his eyes scanned the entire room, cataloging all the places he could have been hiding before he heard the door swing shut again and there was someone flinging themselves on his back.
Kurt watched Sam's confusion from his hiding place behind the door and then took his chance before the blond could turn around. He sneaked forwards and then threw himself up at Sam's back, hoping to shock him.
As he clasped his hands around the taller boy's neck he heard Sam gasp and then he was being twirled around as Sam laughed and aimed himself at the couch. He broke apart from him at the last minute, and ended up tumbling onto the floor as Sam hit the couch.
It hadn't hurt at all, and he was giggling and pulling himself up off the floor when he spotted the corner of something peeking out from behind the back of the couch.
Sam quietened his laughter and rolled over onto his stomach, pushing himself forwards with his hands and peering over the edge of the couch arm as he spotted Kurt lay on the floor. He was about to lean down and offer him a hand to get up, hoping that he hadn't been hurt when they fell, when he realised that the smaller boy wasn't moving.
His eyes were open and they were fixed onto something that Sam couldn't see, something that had seemingly shocked him into silence.
He tried to remember if there was any rubbish or anything that Kurt would dislike behind it, but was drawing a blank until he realised that it was where he had first spotted the previous night when he had been tyring to comfort Kurt.
Meaning it was the first place he had thought of to dispose of the photo that was tormenting him.
And Kurt had seen it.
He didn't know how long he lay on the floor staring frozenly at the uniformed figure in the photo on the floor in front of him. It was probably mere moments but it still felt like hours, days, to Kurt.
In what, in reality, must have been a relatively short space of time, Kurt's feelings suddenly changed.
The previous day he had been horrified and upset, hysterical and blaming himself for Blaine's betrayal, becoming more and more upset as he thought about their ruined relationship. But as he stared at the crumpled, not-yet-blond figure in the photo, he stated to realise that maybe it was a good thing that he had broken up with Blaine. In fact maybe it was a great thing!
Sure, he'd seemed perfect and all, but what he'd really fallen for was the avaliability of it all. Complete 'Small Town Gay Syndrome', the first semi-decent guy to turn up avaliable and out and proud and Kurt had fallen madly in love with the idea of having a boyfriend. However, he hadn't fallen in love with Blaine.
In fact, he didn't really think he'd ever felt anything better than passing fancy and a semi-decent friendship for the warbler, but he had still given his all to their relationship. But all the stupid, hair gelled prick had done was take everything for granted, flirt with every good looking guy in sight regardless of sexuality and then swan back to Kurt like it was nothing.
And he absolutely hated that he'd made himself so vunerable for someone so egotistical and narcissistic.
He hated it.
He didn't know quite how long he had actually spent on Sam's living room floor, but suddenly he felt hands gripping his arms and then arms sliding protectively around his torso as Sam picked him up and sat him down gently on the couch, looking at him with concerned eyes.
Sam really wasn't sure what he was seeing in Kurt's eyes. It was a mix of passion and fear and something cold yet beautiful that made him want to shiver.
As he set the smaller boy on the couch, hoping he would snap out of his reverie, he sat down next to him and put one arm carefully around his shoulders, breathing a sigh of relief when Kurt snuggled into it and turned to look at him, his wide, ocean blue eyes questioning.
"You moved it."
He was talking about the picture right? Well, he couldn't deny that.
"Um, yeah. Last night. I figured it would probably be best to not have it around if it made you upset like that." Sam shrugged nonchalantly, hoping Kurt wouldn't take offense.
Those blue eyes looked down again towards the slender boy's lap, then flicked back up towards his face.
"Thank you Sam," He said in a small, but somehow strong voice, "For thinking about that. And thank you for letting me crash at your house and for putting up with my hysterics and for letting me talk about complete shit in that car. In fact, thank you for not leaving that car on the side of the road like so many other people would have done.
It was the disarming, white teeth, commercial worthy smile that Kurt gave him then that made him want to melt inside. It was timid and hopeful and he knew the guy had no idea what Sam's stomach was doing (backflips) or what his hands were itching to do (brush the stray strand of hair out of his blue eyes).
His voice came out strained, deeper and more gravelly than it normally sounded when he opened his mouth to reply. He had to cough and start again when he got an odd look from Kurt as he spluttered.
"You're welcome Kurt, and i'm just happy to have been able to help. I don't mind one bit, and besides, i was only doing what any decent person in this godforsaken town would have done." He said, finally, in his normal voice.
Kurt smiled even wider whn Sam spoke, completely earnestly, and had to dip his head to hide the blush that he knew was staining his cheeks. Sam had squeezed his shoulders even more while he had been talking, playfully hugging Kurt, and he had to keep reminding himself that he didn't need yet another straight guy crush.
"I don't know Sam, most people in this one cow town wouldn't have bothered to stop." He chuckled dryly as he thought again how glad he was someone had stopped.
At that Sam's gaze darkened and Kurt grew worried, until he said "Yeah, i know. That's why i said any decent person. And the rest of them can just go fuck themselves, right?"
As he got the discretion Sam was trying to make, he smiled, knowing that Sam felt him worth helping, then laughed when the blond swore and winked at him, pulling him even closer if possible as he grinned. But then his expression fell through again and he tilted his head to the side, the universal indication that he wanted to ask something.
Kurt sighed, "Go on, what did you want to ask?"
Sam looked embarassed at being called out, but then started softly "Well, last night that photo made you so upset that it hurt me to watch you fall apart like that. But today you just stared at it frozen for a while, and then here we are laughing and joking around about it. What happened?"
Sam really hoped that he hadn't pushed anything too far, or that Kurt was going to burst into tears at any moment, because he had been telling the truth when he said that it killed him to see Kurt that upset or in pain. But after a moment the soprano shifted, pulling put from under his arm so that he could turn and face him on the couch.
"Okay, so yesterday all that photo reminded me of was the one seemingly good thing in my life that had just gone to hell. It was a reminder of all the harsh things that we said to each other and all the times i cried before over him and over what he was doing. But then i looked at it again just then, and it was like the hurt had turned to anger, and frustration." He watched Sam nod and smiled a tiny bit, letting him digest that before he moved on.
"And suddenly i wasn't upset that we'd ended it, i was furious with him and with myself, that he had been such an idiot and that i hadn't ended it sooner. Sure, i might, in the end, not have been in the relationship for the right reasons, or even at the right time in my life, but i put everything into it, i made every 'compromise' and obeyed every rule, and i'm still the one who got my heart stomped on. Yeah, it shouldn't hurt, but it does. Because i thought that it was going to last forever and then suddenly it lasted less than my time on the football team. Goddammit, i was supposed to fucking find love! I was supposed to get my happy ending and my prince and get out of this fucking small minded town, and be in love!"
With that Sam couldn't take it any more and he reached across the couch and tugged Kurt forcefully into his arms, hearing the other boy's harsh gasp as the air was knocked out of him as he slammed against his toned chest. He couldn't stand to see Kurt get so emotional over such a douchebag,
Kurt sighed softly as he relaxed into Sam's chest and before he knew it he was nearly on the verge of tears again as Sam pulled away and looked at him with a look on confusion marring his otherwise perfect face.
Kurt warily watched as his face got more and more pained, before he couldn't take it any more and just threw himself away from Sam, starting to pace the room as the blond watched anxiously.
"I should have just kept my mouth shut! Tried not to notice the little things and just worked on the relationship instead. I should never have let my one real chance at a relationship get away because i felt underappreciated!" He sneered the last bit before he realised that Sam wasn't on the couch any more.
Sam, knowing that he needed to get Kurt to see himself and his predicament properly, remembered something and qickly walked across the room and started to look through something that he hadn't bothered with since he'd started Glee.
Kurt just stared, as Sam rooted through something that filled the room with loud clacking noises, and watched in concern and interest as he stood up and purposefully walked back towards him, an odd look playing across his face.
He sighed, saying "He was a fucking douche to me and i knew it. But what the hell other prospects did i have? Do i have?"
Knowing that he should let Kurt be in peace he simply handed him the object and said "Don't ever feel like that Kurt. Never, ever just 'put up' with something because you don't think you'll get better. You deserve better, okay? And you'll get it."
And with that said he looked one last time at the shattered looking boy before him and then headed out the room, turning once before he left to say quietly "I know music makes more sense to you than talking. Track seven. Just... just listen to it, right?"
Stunned by the sudden turn the conversation had taken, Kurt just stared at Sam's back as he flitted out the door and disappeared into what he was pretty sure was the kitchen. As he slowly realised that Sam was giving him space and time to think, he turned the object in his hand over and saw a CD case, the words Mayday Parade splashed across the top of a faceless guy fidgeting with a tie that turned into a dark road, a lonely figure waiting on it.
Shrugging, he walks across to the Evans' sound system, flipping open the case and inserting the shiny disk into it as the lid clicked shut, the mechanical whirring the only sign that anything was happening.
As the drums and guitar kicked in he walked slowly back to the couch, sitting down and waiting for the lyrics.
She fell to the bottom of her life
This wasn't meant for two
She struggles to find herself in time
But she can barely move
And right from the start he could tell why Sam told him to listen to the song. It was as if the rough yet smooth voiced singer had watched him break down in his Navigator the day before, seem him cry and fall apart and struggle to make himself even respond to Sam's kindness. He lay down on the couch and stretched his legs out, closing his eyes so that he could just absorb the music as the next verse started.
Just try and get up
You gotta slowly brush off
I know that words aren't enough
But you're better than this
Exactly what Sam had said. He responded better to music than talking, always had, probably always would. And listening to someone who had obviously either gone though a similar thing or watched someone they loved go through it had a strange, yet somehow profoundly expected impact. He could almost hear Sam reaching out from the other room, helping him to his feet, pulling him out of his car's footwell, making sure that he knew that he had his friends and his family and that he would find what he was looking for.
Save your heart
For someone that's worth dying for
Don't give it away
And bam! It was like ice cold water being thrown at him, a short sharp slap to the face. Blaine was not worth dying for, not worth even getting up in the fucking morning for, and he knew it. He fucking knew it! As much as he knew that the next time around, if, and god he hoped there was a next time, he wouldn't be giving his heart to someone who couldn't even pick out his favourite cologne. He would be saving it for someone special. Someone who cared, and who would give him theirs in return.
Torn apart
Never getting what you've been crying for
It's always the same
As Sam sat and listened to the music he knew well pound through the rooms of his house he felt a tear try and make its self known in the corner of his eye. Brushing anything close to moisture away firmly, and knowing that he shouldn't care so much for the brunette, only a day after his break up, he sat and wondered what Kurt was making of it. He hoped that it would give him the same comfort and yet sense of empowerment that it had given Sam the first time he had heard it, or at least, properly heard it, and understood it.
She turns the pages everyday
Just to change the mood
But every chapter reads the same
So hard to make it through
At the same time, Kurt and Sam both thought bitterly about their situations, and things that they had done.
Kurt had had the same repetative pattern every day for weeks and weeks, constantly having to blend in with the Warblers, trying too hard to make subtle changes to his routine yet ending up with nothing but an overriding feeling of déjà vu as he repeated the same things every day, on autopilot. He had settled for comfortable, like a fifties housewife who secretly dreampt of a scandalous romance and getting swept off her feet by a handsome stranger, but instead just went on with her every day dull life without persuing it at all.
Just try and get up
You gotta slowly brush off
I know that words aren't enough
But you're better than this
Sam had run from things, from people, and tried to start anew, but had instead ended up just burying himself deeper in the quagmire of enevitability and repetition. He had his parents, sure, and his friends in Glee, and he supposed even his strong friendship with Quinn, but he wanted something more. He was better than his past, and he was going to prove it.
Save your heart
For someone that's worth dying for
Don't give it away
Torn apart
Never getting what you've been crying for
It's always the same
Kurt had his face covered with his hands, lying over his eyes even though they were closed, as he slowly but surely built up the courage that he knew he would have to have to go back to Dalton, face the Warblers, face Blaine. But even though it was hard to confront, it was also surprisingly easy, because he knew now that he had never loved the hobbit (he giggled despite himself) and he suddenly got the tears. They had been tears of sorrow, but now he pictured them as tears of joy, because he was free, by his own hand, to get what he wanted, what he needed.
And you give
And they take
And it's love that you want
But not love that you make
He knew that he had let himself be pushed around, mentally and emotionally manipulated, and he only had himself to thank for that. But now he was suddenly stronger, and he could face whatever they threw at him.
Sam, meanwhile, stood up from his chair in the kitchen and started to make his way back towards the living room, hoping that he wouldn't find either and angry Kurt or a hysterical one. But so far the sound of the music was all he could hear, so he supposed it boded well.
Save your heart
For someone that's worth dying for
Don't give it away
Kurt knew he wasn't going to give it away easily the next time around (when, not if, he reminded himself) but he still wanted to know that when the time came, he would be willing to give it to the someone that deserved it.
Save your heart
For someone who leaves you breathless
And I know that you're scared
Seems like someone said you had it in you (are you scared?)
All along you said you knew this was wrong
But still worth dying for
As Sam moved quietly back into the room he saw that Kurt was lying perfectly still on the couch, his face covered partly by his hands, yet he was still serene and perfect, his smooth lower jaw and mouth visible as his eyes were shielded. And he knew that he should have the guts to be honest with Kurt, even though some people might think he was wrong, might not like it, because whatever it was, it was worth dying for.
And you give (and you give)
And they take (and they take)
And it's love that you want
But not love that you make
As Kurt heard something that wasn't the music from his left side his hands flashed away from his eyes and he opened them warily, before spotting Sam stood still in the middle of the room, halfway between the couch and the fireplace, watching him with some emotion he couldn't describe in his face, and fire in his eyes.
He sat up and smiled at the blond, only a tiny smile but still one that must have revealed his epiphany and determinatioln from the way that Sam's face warmed from rest into a wide smile that showed his teeth and set his face aglow.
Save your heart
For someone that's worth dying for
Don't give it away
Don't give it away
As the music faded out in the background he felt an indescribable rush of warmth for the boy who had helped him out in so many ways even though they hadn't been especially close when they had been at McKinley, and acted without thinking, throwing himself into Sam's arms and hugging him tightly, not caring if he was slowly squeezing the life out of him as he smooshed his cheek into Sam's chest and closed his eyes, feeling the heat that radiated off the blond.
Sam had to blink and make sure he wasn't hallucinating as the brunette vision that had been perched on his couch flung its self at him with unbelievable speed, wrapping its arms around his chest and tightening them until he could hardly breathe, its cheek softly pressing to his chest like it was a feather, yet like satin on his skin, even through his t-shirt.
He hardly had time to do more than take a deep breath and inhale the scent that he had become familiar with on the couch when he had woken up, a sweet yet dark fragrance that had him imaging jasmine and blown out candles** and yet was still so masculine, when Kurt wriggled out of his now-returned embrace as fast as he had leapt into it, a startled expression on his face.
Trying to understand what was wrong he gazed at Kurt curiously, his eyebrows drawing together like his father's did when he was bewidered. But he didn't have a clue about the reason until Kurt spoke.
"Oh god, i'm so sorry Sam, i mean, you've been great and i can't thank you enough but i shouldn't just be invading your personal space like that and i'm so sorry and i've made this awkward and uncomfortable and i can't believe i just did that and i'm so sorry and-"
His eyes widened as Sam placed a hand over his mouth and cut him off.
"Kurt, i don't know why you think i'm uncomfortable, because i'm not. You hugged me, i hugged back, yeah?" He waited for Kurt to nod.
"Then it's no big deal. So stop apologising and pretend like you never had your little... shall we say blip of insanity?" He smiled softly at the brunette as his eyes lost their panicked look and he seemed to nod behind his hand.
Letting his hand drop, he stepped back and kept silent, waiting for Kurt to speak.
Kurt blinked, hard at first to make sure it wasn't his imagination and then softly to try and dispel the tears that were threatening, as he realised that not only was Sam not bothered by his sudden touchy-feely-ness but that he was worried that Kurt had shied away.
"I'm sor- okay, no apologies," He smiled as Sam wagged a finger jokingly but silently, letting him continue, "It's just, for most of my teenage life most people have shied away from touching me. Well, guys anyway. Mercedes' and Tina and to some extent Rachel hug me, kiss my cheeks, but they don't count. My dad, bless him, tries his best, but he was never a cuddly person to begin with. And other guys, i even get near them and they flinch away. I mean, before we made up and became step-brothers there was a moment when Finn slapped my hand away for trying to help him get out of his Kiss make-up. So i'm not used to touching guys, and even less being touched - hugged - back."
He saw Sam's expression cloud momentarily and then settle into his unsure mask again as he asked "What about the hobbit? Didn't you get touchy feely with him?"
Blushing at Sam's unintentional innuendo he rolled his eyes and said "Sure, for the honeymoon period, he seemed great, holding my hand and kissing me, little pecks, but they soon tailed off, and then i was back to not being toughed by anyone, apart from accidental brushes past people in the corridors."
Sam was really starting to get pissed at a lot of people, particularly the guys in Glee and Finn in particular, for the way Kurt had become so afraid of others, so physically withdrawn. But first he wanted to know why Kurt had acted the same around him.
"Kurt, even with all that, what made you think i'd react in the same way? I hugged you last night, hell i slept with you next to me, curled up on my chest," He tried not to notice his adorable Kurt looked when he blushed, "and yet just then you pulled away like i had the plauge."
Kurt saw the puzzlement in his eyes and decided to be brutally honest, hoping against hope that Sam wouldn't do anything to harsh. He sat down on the couch again and then looked up at the blond.
"Because last night i was hurt, crying, a 'lost puppy' if you will. You comforted me, and i assumed it was because you thought it was the right thing to do. You tried to make me feel better, and you being there did that for some part, so you stayed there. But now, this morning, i was happier, more myself, and you weren't comforting me any more, looking after me. We were normal again and i instinctively thought that you would feel that it was different, that it wasn't needed any more, and would feel like i was coming on to you. It's what all the guys fear. That they'll 'catch the gay'." He finished his sentence with bitterness and harshness in his tone, and looked down at his hands.
Sam made a decision in that split second, one that he hoped would go well, and sat down next to Kurt, watching him carefully as he spoke softly, his words barely audible.
"I'm not worried. Been there, done that, bought the fucking t-shirt."
For a second neither of them said anything.
Kurt sat in shock, not wanting to look up, processing Sam's words and trying to figure out if they meant what he thought they did.
Sam sat on tenterhooks, watching Kurt's every movement, not that there were any but the steady rise and fall of his chest and the slight shaking of his hands.
Then, all at once, Kurt moved and it was like the spell was broken.
Raising his head, he stared into Sam's moss green eyes, noticing the pure, brutal honesty in them, the pain, and the strength it had taken to admit it. He pushed the fact that he'd never seen more beautiful eyes to the back of his mind and tried to ignore it.
As time suddenly went from painfully slow to dangerously fast Sam felt himself pulled into a hug even tighter than the one he had received as the song ended, and grew decidedly lightheaded as Kurt clung to him stroking his hair.
Then he was gone again, sat back on the cushions, and speaking.
"Sam, if you're gay, what was Quinn?" He heard the small accusation but didn't acknowledge it as he just leveled his gaze on Kurt.
"Quinn knew. She said she always had, from when we went to Breadsticks on that stupid duets win 'date'" He made quotation marks with his fingers and Kurt's flawless mouth cracked into a tiny smile.
"But i couldn't do what you do, i'm not even half as brave, so she told me that she would be my beard. She had a reputation as being a prude, apart from her... blip, last year, so us being pretty platonic wasn't an issue. We kissed in the hallways to keep the image up, and she helped me out with sorting my head out when we were alone. She's been a fucking rock, and i owe her a lot."
Kurt smiled as he remembered the way Sam had always looked fondly at Quinn, even after their supposed break up when he was supposed to be hurt and angry. He had shot her looks in Glee that had made Kurt wonder about why they had really broken up.
Smiling at the blonde, he quipped "Well, i always knew. It was the hair. No straight guy dyes his hair to look like Linda Evangelista circa 1980."
Sam laughed at Kurt's joke, even though he knew that it was his own fault for having chosen to dye his hair such a ridiculous shade of blond. But at the time it had seemed a great part of his 'making a good first/new impression' plan.
He said as much. "Hey, no knocking the hair! But yeah, i only did it so that i could be the 'new me' for the new school, and get over the drama of the last one. It was never going to be a hide your sexuality thing, but then you came along and well, the jocks in that place weren't the most friendly of people."
Both of them grimaced at his statement, remembering slushies and names that were thrown at them, but mostly at Kurt.
"So yeah, i ended up with a beard to try and fit in. It was stupid, and it couldn't last, not least for the fact that she ended up wanting to be with someone else. I couldn't stop her, and to be honest, i didn't want to. I hated being in a relationship, even a pseudo one, where i couldn't be with the person i wanted to be with." He hoped that Kurt couldn't see his blush, but he guessed that it probably couldn't be hidden.
Watching Sam as he lowered his eyes at the last part of his sentence, he instantly knew what was going on. Smiling slyly, he arched an eyebrow and said "So, who is this mystery person? I'm assuming they go to McKinley?"
Sam just blushed even harder at his question and that was all the answer Kurt needed, but he thought he'd wait for Sam to confirm it.
"Uh, yeah. I guess. But i was never gonna get them, y'know."
He raised his head and looked Kurt in the eyes, hoping that he couldn't see what he was thinking.
Kurt tilted his head again, saying "Why not, Samuel? What about them was so unobtainable?"
Sam had to laugh at the humerous glint in Kurt's eyes as he smirked at him. He couldn only focus on them for a second before he had to look away, but he saw it.
"Well, this guy? He's like, perfect. He's so beautiful, so graceful, and he doesn't even know it. He always looks good, and i've heard him sing, and it's like an angel." Sam paused to see if it was sinking in, but Kurt was just looking politely interested, so he carried on, "But he has some kind of prescence, you know? Like, he stands up to people, he holds his own even when people give him crap. Which they do, a lot. I admire him so much for that. Which is why he wouldn't want a newly-closeted case like me."
He hadn't noticed but while he was speaking he had unconsciously moved closer to Kurt on the couch, their thighs brushing as he leant towards the soprano and gazed into his eyes. His attentions were being responded to with rapt attention as Kurt got absorbed in his explanation, and the smaller boy was leaning in too without even realising.
Kurt had been busy wondering who Sam thought so worthy of his attention, and who it was that he could like so much and yet think he wasn't good enough for. He had been put off however, by the way his golden hair fell into his eyes, and his smile as he spoke of this mystery guy, and he couldn't help but admire his tanned complexion and white teeth, and the muscles in his arm when he raised it to ruffle his already gorgeous hair and...
Oh god.
He had referred to himself as a closet case. Well almost.
And if he wouldn't be wanted because he was a closet case, then it had to mean that the guy who he liked was out and proud.
And the only guy who was... no, had been... out and proud at McKinley was...
Him.
His soft gasp alerted Sam to the fact that he had finally realised where all his praise had been leading and when Sam leaned even further in and looked deeper into Kurt's eyes, touching their foreheads together and taking a breath, he felt his heartbeat stutter.
"You mean... me?" He managed to choke out, his lips merely inches from Sam's.
As Sam smiled, his dimples forming as he tried to convey 'yes' with his eyes, Kurt closed his eyes and tried not to remember anything but the heat pressed against his forehead.
His eyes flashed open again when he felt hot breath on his lips, and he saw Sam's face even closer than ever, his eyes unsure and questioning.
Without thinking he surged forwards and captured Sam's lips in a kiss.
Sam thought his brain might short circuit as he felt those soft lips, the dark, dusky pink ones that he had been dreaming about for weeks, touch tentatively to his at first, then more pressingly as he moved his mouth, taking the lead as Sam tried to recover. He felt Kurt's mouth open and then his tongue was running along the seam of Sam's lips, his hands traveling downhis chest tantalisingly slowly as he opened his mouth and their tongues entwined, slipping past each other's as his own hands somehow tangled themselves in Kurt's hair, it's silkiness only serving to make him even more ecstatic as he realised that this was real, it was happening. Then a large array of throughts blasted his mind, ranging from a repeated 'ohmygodohmygodohmygod' to a slightly more sane 'Holy fucking sweet Jesus this is real'.
After that, all he could think about was Kurt.
Feeling his lips fuse with Sam's, Kurt expected fireworks, explosions, all the cliché things they talked about in films. But he didn't feel any of that at all.
Instead, it felt perfect. Wonderful. And not explosive at all, because it felt like coming home. It felt like he was right where he should be, and he had no worries, felt that nothing could go wrong and that it was the person who was gripping his hair softly and sliding one arm around his waist that made it like that.
In short, this was what it should be like. And he didn't want it to stop.
But in time they had to breathe, and Sam pulled his head back, gazing at Kurt with lidded but curious eyes, passion burning in them as he blinked away his slight film of lust.
Kurt just stared at the guy he was wrapped around and said "Wow."
Smiling, Sam just laughed, saying "Yeah. Wow."
A/N: Well, hopefully everyone liked that. And yes, i know that Sam isn't gay in the show, duh, but this is FF guys, and it's therefore AU and i can make him gay (because he is! He just is!). The song in there was the amazing (and very resonant) 'Save Your Heart' by Mayday Parade, and the cover art described is the actual cover art of the album, and it's very good. And of course, i don't own it -sadface-
*Quoting 'Sahara' like a badass. It's an amazing film guys, you need to see it. And hello, Matthew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz, who wants to pass that up?
**Okay, this is one of my favourite scents. I don't care how odd it sounds, blown out candles smell gorgeous. XD
Well, there you go! Please, chuck some reviews my way? Make a procrastinating and sleepy girl happy? x