Hey Guys! Here's another chapter...
For the record, I'm ignoring a lot of season 3 canon stuff. Like, just pretend like Samcedes isn't a thing. I enjoy Samcedes to a certain extent, but it would kill a Kum fic.
Also, Quinn was freaking hit by a truck...and in the earlier chapters that she was in, she was definitely never hit by a truck. Yeah. Shit's still normal in this universe. So...yeah.
I'd love reviews if you guys care to offer them! Please enjoy!
"Wake up!"
Sam's eyes popped open as a slender mass landed next to him on his mattress, causing the entire bed to shake. As he transitioned into consciousness, a smile spread over his face. He wondered how early it was. Only a hint of sunlight shone through the cracks of his blinds. The sunrise was still in its infancy.
"I'm awake," He said to Kurt, sitting up and stretching. "What's your problem?"
"We just booked our first interview today," Kurt said sweetly. "There was a cancellation and The Today Show wants us."
"We've been interviewed before," Sam reminded him.
"Not on a real talk show," Kurt sighed.
Sam slowly got out of bed, his face falling. "Right…"
"Oh come on," Kurt cried, rolling off the opposite side of the bed and following Sam out into the hallway. "Don't pretend like you're not excited."
"I'm not pretending," Sam said. He had to be honest.
"You told me you thought getting a publicist was a good idea!"
"It's too early…" Sam mumbled, as they padded into the kitchen. He looked at the counter and frowned. "Why would you wake me up before you made coffee?"
"I'm excited," Kurt told him. "I'm ready to set the rumors straight and stand up for myself."
Sam hesitated in front the coffee maker for a few minutes before deciding it wasn't worth the effort. He turned around and started for the kitchen doorway. "I'm ready to go back to sleep."
"No!" Kurt whined, diving in front of Sam and grabbing his shoulders. "I refuse to do this without you."
Sam couldn't help but react to Kurt's puppy dog eyes. "Stop it…" He tried.
"Absolutely not," Kurt continued. "You're doing this interview with me. I can't have the entire country thinking my boyfriend dumped me as soon as we got to New York!"
Sam chuckled. "Shut up,"
Kurt gave Sam a little shake. "Come on. All you have to do is look pretty."
"That shouldn't be hard for him," A cold voice interrupted.
Kurt quickly recoiled, pulling his hands off Sam and spinning around.
"Good morning, baby," Kurt said to a scowling Blaine.
"Good morning," Blaine sneered. He looked at Sam. "We really have to stop meeting like this."
Sam pressed his lips together, starring down at his feet. Ever since Blaine had arrived a week earlier, Sam had felt like they had been struggling to stay out of each other's way. Sam knew he wasn't alone feeling awkward when the three of them were in the same room together.
"Now, what did you say about your boyfriend?" Blaine went on, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Kurt's torso, trying to be sweet.
"Oh, nothing," Kurt said lightly, looking to Sam nervously.
"We booked an interview," Sam told him. "Kurt really wants to do it?"
Blaine nodded thoughtfully, letting go of Kurt. "…together…?"
Kurt looked worried. "You have to understand, Blaine. Sam and I are sort of a package deal."
"I, personally, feel no desire to be exploited, but..." Sam jumped in defensively.
"But they don't want Kurt by himself," Blaine finished the sentence, somewhat bitterly. He bit his lip for a moment, and then decided to go the supportive route. "You should do it. Both of you should."
"I agree," Kurt said softly, looking gratefully at his boyfriend.
"It's the perfect opportunity for you two to set the record straight," Blaine continued. "Sam, you can tell the press how outstandingly heterosexual you are. Maybe then 'gay teen millionaires' will stop trending on Yahoo."
Kurt smiled at Sam. "He's probably right."
"Right…" Sam nodded. Outstandingly heterosexual.
"Oh my god… This is incredible!" Kurt said, walking into the green room and straight to the stone coffee table, where somebody had left a pitcher of ice water and a bowl of M&Ms. He picked up the bowl and held it towards Sam. "Is your sweet tooth bothering you?" He grinned stupidly.
Sam chuckled weakly. The boys had just left hair and make-up, and Sam was fighting the urge to scratch off the dense foundation that was irritating his face. He shook his head. "No, I'm good."
Kurt looked down at the M&Ms, and then set them back on the table without touching them.
A light knock came on the door. Before they could call her in, their publicist, Abby, shuffled in. "Are you boys doing all right?" She asked. "God you two both look so handsome."
"Thanks, Abby. You're a doll." Kurt cooed.
"Right back at you, baby-face," Sam noticed that her button-nose crinkled up when she grinned. She looked like a rodent.
Abby was this thirty-something woman who was so tiny she could pass for a junior high school student. She had a pin-straight blond bob and wore a tight spandex dress under a blazer, as if she was attending a club opening. She held onto a clipboard that was not only purple, but covered in glitter. Sam wondered what had been going through Kurt's mind when he hired her. She didn't seem very professional.
"So, what's the deal?" Kurt asked her.
"Oh, honey, they've got some great stuff to talk to y'all about,"
Sam cringed. She was southern too. Her accent was slight, but it existed, and it automatically reminded Sam of his first grade teacher back in Tennessee, Mrs. Finch. Sam had hated Mrs. Finch more than anyone on the planet. His dyslexia hadn't been diagnosed until second grade, so he spent an entire year with Mrs. Finch trying to force-feed him the alphabet. He remembered crying during class because she'd make him feel stupid. She'd call on him entirely too often, and the other kids would pick on him. It got to the point where he'd get scolded for refusing to answer her questions. He didn't know what else to do. He was tired of being wrong all the time.
He knew he couldn't hate Abby just because she reminded him of his traumatic experiences, but honestly that was only part of it. He had a lot of reasons to dislike her.
"So, Sam, I want you to tell them about living in that motel…" She said, widening her inhumanely huge brown eyes at him. "You literally have one of those rags to riches stories. And Kurt, people are fascinated by the fact that your father is a congressman. They're going to ask you about that. Maybe talk about his stance on same-sex marriage and how it might affect your life if you ever decided to move back to Ohio. We could get all political, you know, make a point about how all the money in the world can't make you two completely happy."
Sam's head was spinning. She was going way too fast. "Wait, how did you know about the motel?"
"Kurt told me at my interview," Abby said lightly. "It's really amazing. Like. Wow. I'm even eating this shit up."
Sam looked at Kurt, unsure of how to feel. It wasn't completely a secret that he'd been homeless, but part of him wished Kurt had consulted him before making it part of his story. "Yeah, that's cool…" He heard himself say. Because maybe it was his fault. Maybe he should have taken a more active position in the hiring process.
"Actually, I'm not sure about talking about the marriage thing…" Kurt said slowly, his eyes narrowing. "You know, Sam and I aren't together, right?"
Abby froze, blinking, dumbfounded. "Oh…you didn't tell me that in the interview."
"You didn't ask," Kurt shrugged casually. He seemed relieved to have finally told the truth. Sam crossed his arms and stared at the floor. He had nothing to say.
"I'm sorry," Abby pressed a palm to her flushed cheek. "I just assumed…all the articles…"
Kurt interrupted. "They made assumptions. I actually have a boyfriend, Blaine, who I love more than anything, but unfortunately still has a year left of high school. Also, Sam's straight as an arrow. We're just best friends."
Abby laughed incredulously. "Well, my gaydar needs to be looked at," She told Sam. He forced a smile of acknowledgment. "I'm really sorry. You guys just seem so close."
"We are," Sam heard himself say.
"Well, then, you can talk about how hard it is to leave Blake behind," Deborah told him. He didn't even correct her name-flub. "They'll ask you a question along the lines of what it's like to leave Ohio, and you can talk about him. People will be surprised, but shock is intriguing."
Kurt nodded. "Oh, of course…"
"All right then," She grinned, tapping on her clip board. "Well, I'll come and get you two when it's time to get on deck."
"Perfect," Kurt said, waving goofily to her as she clacked out of the room in her stilettos.
Kurt sighed contently and turned to grin at Sam. "She's great, isn't she?"
Sam widened his eyes and nodded, but he was a horrible actor. He went around the coffee table and sat on the leather couch.
"You don't like her." Kurt came to sit next to him. "Why, what's wrong with her?"
"Nothing…" Sam laughed. "It's not important."
"You should have come with me to meet with her."
"I would've missed the daily block of Fresh Prince on channel nine. I would've gone back to it the next day and had no clue what was going on." This was actually kind of true. Honestly, Sam's interest in everything was just too minimal to actually change out of his sweat pants just to meet with a silly publicist. He'd trusted Kurt. And even though Kurt had picked someone Sam didn't immediately like, he still trusted him. Kurt cared enough for the both of them, and Sam was going to have to be okay with that.
The thing that Sam wasn't okay with was all of the declarations that he was straight. He felt an enormous guilt pawing at him from the inside. After years of passing as adorably metro, people were finally just starting to assume. He actually kind of liked it.
The fact was that it didn't matter to him. People were people. Love was love. He didn't care about labels. He didn't want a label, and it frustrated him that his sexuality mattered to everyone else.
"Kurt…" He heard himself speak, his voice straining. He wasn't going to go out and tell America that he was straight. Even if he didn't have a word he preferred to use for what he was, he knew what he wasn't. He wasn't going to lie to an entire nation.
Kurt face twisted strangely. "…are you all right there?"
Sam swallowed, his mouth suddenly felt dry. He licked his lips. How was he supposed to say this? Would Kurt be mad at him for not telling him sooner? Would Kurt care? Mercedes and Rachel had never come out as straight to him and they were still his friends. Was it different because he'd never assumed they were lesbians? It seemed like sort of an unfair double standard. "Kurt look…about the interview,"
"Oh my god," Kurt scoffed. "Are you seriously going to tell me you have cold feet? Honestly, I refuse to accept that."
"No, listen to me," Sam said quickly. "There's something you should know. I'm not going to…"
Suddenly the door popped open again. Abby flew into the room.
"I guess they're taking you two sooner than we expected," She told them, her voice unnecessarily loud. "You're on deck. Come on."
She flew out the room again, expecting them to follow. Sam hesitated.
"If you have something to say, you better spit it out," Kurt told him.
"No. I'm just…I'm glad we're doing this," Sam lied. He wanted to kick himself. Why was he such an inadvertent good sport about everything?
A cocky grin crept over Kurt's face. "I told you that would happen."
Sam lay in bed that afternoon with a cold washcloth rolled up and placed over his eyes. He hadn't had any caffeine today, and he'd decided that he'd earned the torture of deprivation. The pounding headache suited his mood. He deserved the agony.
He couldn't stop re-playing the interview in his head.
"So, you two must be getting pretty cozy? Did you spring for a two-bedroom apartment in case you get tired of each other?" The female interviewer asked them.
"Oh, well, I could never get tired of Sam," Kurt said lightly. "We actually lived together for most of our senior year. His parents were in Kentucky, so we kept a roof over his head until graduation."
"Oh my," The male co-host grinned. "There must have been a lot of after-hours sneaking around."
The audience went wild. Sam found it strange. Was this okay conversation for network television? Were people really okay with implications of gay sex? It seemed a little early in the morning for national controversy.
"Oh, god, no…!" Kurt cried, he looked over at Sam, a deathly look in his eyes telling him to contribute.
"It wasn't like that," Sam said quickly.
"Yes. I don't think my boyfriend would've liked that very much,"
"Yeah, I would have been in for some trouble," Sam nodded. "Blaine's a small guy, but he's picked a fight with me before and he'd do it again."
"I'm sorry, I'm confused," The lady said, amazed. "Who's Blaine?"
"Kurt's boyfriend," Sam said.
Kurt said simultaneously. "The love of my life…"
Sam wanted to die.
"Oh my god… You two aren't even a couple!" The woman cried.
"Not even kind of," Kurt shrugged. "As I said, I have a boyfriend, and believe it or not, Sam's playing for the other team."
She looked at Sam expectantly. He shrugged and nodded. What else was he supposed to do?
"Well, in that case, see me after the show," The woman said in an attempt of comedy, lowering her head and leaning toward him suggestively.
Sam nodded confidently to the audience, pretending to enjoy it because that seemed to be what celebrities did when someone complimented them.
"He's really just the best friend a guy could ask for," Kurt said, reaching out and grabbing Sam's forearm. "I'm as lucky to have him as I am to have Blaine, but I want everyone to know that it's completely platonic…"
…Platonic. As much as Sam wanted to believe that Kurt's view of their relationship would change if he'd told him he liked guys, he knew it was unlikely. Blaine was, after all, the love of his life. Still, Sam couldn't believe what he'd done. He'd let everyone believe he was straight. He felt like a dirty, lying coward.
Someone knocked lightly on his bedroom door.
"Yeah…?" He grunted, lacking the will-power to sit up and speak for real.
He heard the door creak open. "Are you okay?" Kurt's voice asked him, concerned to see him lying so lifeless on the bed.
Sam quickly pulled the washcloth off his face. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Kurt's sweet, concerned face.
"You've been in here all day," Kurt told him, coming to sit on the end of the bed. "What's the matter?"
"I'm fine. I have a headache."
"Do you want some Tylenol? I have some in my room…"
"Thanks, but I don't like swallowing pills," Sam admitted.
"I could pick you up some baby Tylenol?" Kurt suggested cutely. "…The orange flavored stuff. I could blend it into a fruit smoothie or something and you wouldn't even taste it."
Sam laughed at the ridiculous offer. "You wouldn't do that..."
"Oh, you would be astonished by what I would do for you, Sam Evans," Kurt said playfully.
Sam felt a lump forming in his throat. He swallowed uneasily. "I appreciate it," He said weakly.
Kurt slowly frowned, and he reached over, pressing his impossibly soft hand against Sam's forehead. He held it there for a minute, contemplating. His touch sent shivers down Sam's spine. His headache actually seemed to go away for those few seconds.
"You don't seem to be running a fever," Kurt pulled his hand away. Sam wanted more than anything to grab it again; to beg to hold it for the rest of the night. He stared at Kurt with big, sad eyes, not even thinking about how pathetic he must have looked. "Are you okay?" Kurt asked him, laughing strangely.
"Kurt, I haven't been completely honest with you," Sam finally spit out. "I've been keeping something for a long time, and it's really just time to say it."
Kurt didn't invite him to continue, but he cocked his head curiously, waiting. That was enough.
"I don't play for a different team. I mean, does that matter? I mean…" He didn't even know what he was saying at this point. "What I mean is that I've realized lately that choosing a team sucks and also, you know, I like guys, so I'm not going to tell people I'm straight anymore...if that's okay."
Kurt's eyes widened and a smile of amazement came across his face. "Shut up!" He cried. "Seriously, you're telling me that I was right junior year!"
"I mean, at the time I hadn't realized it yet."
"Wow!" Kurt was really enjoying the information. Sam took that as a good sign. He felt a wave of relieve and hope wash over him. "So…have you hooked up with anyone yet? Is it someone I know? Do you have a secret boyfriend? Oh my god. Are you in love with Finn? Because I can safely say I've been there, and in a weird way you two would make a much better couple than we would have and you guys spent a lot of afternoons watching cartoons together…and I know it sucks that he's straight, but you'll meet someone better soon enough…"
"Whoa!" Sam had been waving his hand in front of Kurt. He finally managed to cut him off. "Stop it. I'm not in love with Finn. Just because I'm gay, doesn't mean I'm automatically in love with anyone!" He felt weird after he said it. He'd just said he was gay. Was he really?
Kurt laughed. "I'm sorry. I guess I have trouble relating. My problem is that I've never just been gay. I was always head-over-heels. I mean, there was only a brief window between Finn and Blaine, and ironically I filled it with you." Kurt's expression seemed to darken at this realization. He gave Sam a small smile. "And I thought I could never have you…not that I'm saying I could now." He said quickly. "God, I'm sorry. No one's ever really come out to me before. Am I awful at this?"
"Just a little bit," Sam teased. In actuality, he was glad Kurt was talking so much, because he couldn't think of anything to say.
"Well I'm glad you've discovered this part of yourself," Kurt laughed. "And I'm glad you realized it before you were married with kids."
"Me too," Sam laughed.
Kurt sighed, and began to lift himself off the bed. "I should probably get back to Blaine. He's ironing my shirts for me…probably in an attempt to get me to put out tonight,"
Sam laughed uncomfortably. Kurt didn't seem too happy about that. "I hope you've stocked up on cool whip…" Sam said maliciously.
Kurt's jaw dropped and his face turned red. "I thought we were never going to bring this up again!"
Sam shrugged. "I couldn't help it."
"You're lucky I'm a nice person," Kurt told him, wagging a finger at him as he moved toward the bedroom doorway. "When you're getting ready to give your first blow job, just let me know and we'll practice on some popsicles or something."
Sam cracked up. "I think I'll manage without you,"
"Of course you will," Kurt said. He pulled open the door.
Sam watched him go out into the hallway, but a weight on his chest told him the conversation wasn't finished yet.
"Wait!" He called after him, hopping off the bed, prepared to chase him if he had to. Kurt re-appeared in the doorway.
"I'm not just going to stand around and listen to you mock me, Evans!" Kurt cried.
"No…" Sam smiled. "I just wanted to let you know…you could've."
"What?" Kurt wasn't following.
Sam swallowed again. "You could've had me then. You would've just had to try a little harder, you know? Maybe if you'd dropped in on another one of my showers or did Singing in the Rain with me like you said you would..."
Kurt rolled his eyes. Sam was surprised that he had nothing to say to that; that he was taking it so lightly. "Good night, Samuel. Tend to your headache. Holler if you need an aspirin... or an MRI."
"Um...yeah...okay..." Was that really all Kurt was going to say to him?
With that, Kurt patted him on the shoulder, and went down the hallway. Sam watched him disappear into his own room. He felt better having told the truth, but at the same time, he felt emptier than ever.
The problem was that he'd lost Kurt. He was right down the hall, but Sam had lost him to Blaine two years earlier. If only he'd realized how much he'd end up loving him when they met.
Sam couldn't take it anymore. He felt too hopeless and alone. He needed reinforcements.
He went back to his bed, and grabbed his phone from his nightstand before sitting down. He dialed quickly, anxiously holding it to his ear.
"Hey," The voice on the other end answered.
"Hey," Sam said back. "So, how would you feel about spending a couple of days out here?"