i.

The way Kurt looked on the weekends. More often than not, Sam was at Kurt's house during the weekends. It was the best part of his week, and not just because it meant no homework. Kurt looked so damn perfect without even trying. He gave his hair a break from all the hair spray and careful styling. He traded in form fitting sweaters for worn in v-neck shirts and Cheerio sweat pants. Sam tried his best to keep his hands off of Kurt, or at least keep them where Burt could see and wouldn't shoot him for their placement, but Kurt made him it hard when he looked so relaxed. Sam wouldn't tell Kurt, but it made him think of what it would be like to live with Kurt on his own.

ii.

Sam and his sketchbook. Kurt knew that school had always been a little harder for Sam, and Sam got bored easily in class. It was when he looked over at his desk in French class one day that he had to keep from swooning. Kurt could see various doodles of him and Sam, holding hands, cuddling, teasing each other.

I like your drawings. he wrote on a piece of paper and pushed it towards Sam.

But these are my notes? he wrote back and pushed the sketchbook closer to Kurt. Sam had written in French around them.

Je m'appelle Sam. J'adore Kurt Hummel. Il est un tres beau garcon. Il me fait sourire.

iii.

The way Sam had a solution for everything. Kurt was afraid of thunder storms. It was something he would never tell anybody, but before he could stop himself, he had already hit speed dial at one thirty in the morning.

"Kurt? What's wrong?" Sam's voice was thick with sleep.

"I can't sleep." he whispered. "Do you mind staying up with me?"

"Of course not. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just a little nervous. Storms." He let out an awkward laugh.

"I used to be afraid of storms like this when I was little. My mom and I would make a fort out of sheets in our living room, and we'd stay under there with a flashlight and eat popsicles and talk until it was over."

And that was why, twenty minutes later, Kurt sat inside a fort made from barstools and the sheets from his bed, eating a popsicle while talking on the phone to his boyfriend.

iv.

Kurt was the best cook ever. Kurt knew how strict Sam was with his diet. He never judged him for it, never said anything about it. He accepted it and did his best to just be supportive. Sam loved having dinner at Kurt's house, because it wasn't like at home, where his mother constantly brings him cookies and jelly beans and his father mumbles something passive-aggressive about how Sam takes himself too seriously.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, Kurt." Sam groaned, stretching out on Kurt's bed. He always got so full, but not to the point where he felt like tacking on another twenty reps of wall sits was necessary. Kurt's meals were delicious, nutritious, and light in calories.

"Hush, you beautiful boy." Kurt half-scolded, crawling into the bed and laying his head on Sam's chest. Sam grinned and pulled Kurt into him. His boyfriend was awesome.