Me again! Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry! Real life kind of got in the way of my writing becauuuuse… my soul sister got engaged! :D Joy and rapture! I've been in the midst of planning the proposal and then celebrating so this just kind of got pushed to the back burner :(
Alright, one more A/N. I was hoping I could avoid this but someone noticed so I'll clear it up. I messed up! I totally know a Navigator is a Lincoln, but in the first chapter I went back and forth over whether Kurt should have a Navigator or and Escalade, I decided on Navigator but I still wrote Caddy, like a spaz. I was just gonna let it go because I was lazy but I guess I'll go back and fix it :P So, from now on I'll write Lincoln instead of Cadillac, just fyi.
Okie doke, new chapter! Looooong one! There will be lots of stuff happening in here. Enjoy! Betad by the lovely StarfireEyes! ^_^
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee :(
WARNINGS: Boy/boy love, language, homophobia, angst, etc.
Sam was right, it was a long afternoon. Kurt looked over the entire Camaro and it was officially pronounced dead at 4:13 pm. The pale teen was confident that his father had all the parts necessary to get his car up and running but he wanted to check. As Kurt went to sit in his Navigator to call his dad, Blaine turned to him with a predatory grin.
Expecting some kind of teasing comment about his oh-so-obvious-to-everyone-but-Kurt crush, Blaine surprised him. "I'll be right back."
As his friend bound up the steps, Kurt finished his conversation with his father. The smaller teen looked around for his companions and beckoned Sam over as he walked around to his trunk. Sam trotted over to the back of his Lincoln just in time to see Kurt tumbling over the back seat, ass over elbow, startling a laugh of out the blond teen.
Kurt popped up, shame faced, blushing something fierce. "Say. Nothing."
Sam shook his head, biting his lip to keep silent. "What did you want before that didn't happen?"
Kurt glared at him before speaking, still rummaging around in the backseat. "I spoke to my dad, and we do have the parts, but there is no way I am going to bring them here in my baby. I can do a quick fix, just so we can get your Camaro to the garage."
Kurt emerged victorious from the back seat, holding a bundle of clothes. "But by the love of all that's fashionable, I am not doing it in my new Marc Jacob's pants. Can I go inside and change?"
"Oh, sure. Come on up," he replied while leading Kurt into his home.
As they neared the top of the steps, Sam couldn't help but feel elated that Kurt was going to be inside his house. Sure, it was just to change, but it was a start! When the two teens walked in to the house, Sam realized that he forgot to worry about what the hell Blaine was doing inside. Seeing his shark-like grin at him over his mother's shoulder sent the blond teen into a panic.
Patricia turned around and smiled warmly as she took in the delicate teen. Her smile widened when she saw how well dressed he was. Finally, a good influence for her son! Well, clothing wise, at least. Blaine was a wonderful boy, but he hadn't managed to succeed in introducing a little elegance in Sammy's wardrobe no matter how hard he tried.
If what Blaine told her was true, she would be seeing a lot more of this boy. "Sammy, are you going to introduce me to your friend?"
"Oh! Mom, this is Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is my mom, Patricia Evans."
Patricia reached for the teen's fine-boned hand, shaking it firmly, while Kurt returned the gesture, bobbing his head in greeting.
"Ma'am," he said respectfully.
"Aren't you just the sweetest thing? Call me Patricia, please. Will you be sticking around for dinner?" she asked slyly, pretending she couldn't see the look of absolute panic on her son's face.
"Oh, I don't want to impose…"
"Not at all! It's pasta night; enough for an army! You're welcome to stay if you like," she coaxed.
"Umm…" Kurt said uncertainly, looking to Sam for help.
The blond teen swiftly schooled his face into a welcoming smile, nodding encouragingly.
"I'd love to. Thank you ma—Patricia."
Mrs. Evans smiled in satisfaction. If she hadn't gone into fashion she would have made an excellent matchmaker; much better than that dreadful woman on Bravo. With her work done, she flounced off into the kitchen to get started on dinner.
Sam looked after his mother in betrayal. Too soon! This was too soon! He hadn't planned or thought of what to say or gotten everyone else out of the house. Or cleaned his room. Shit, his room!
Remain calm, Samuel, just remain calm. Show Kurt the bathroom… and then kill Blaine.
"Um, there's a bathroom at the end of the hall, door on the left," he said, pointing as Kurt disappeared down the hall. As soon as the blond teen heard the click of the door shutting, Sam strode over to Blaine.
"What did you do?" he hissed.
"Me?" Blaine said innocently. "I didn't do anything. Your mother was the one that invited your future husband to dinner."
"He's not my future husband! What are you talking about?"
"Oh, future love-slave, then?" the curly haired boy said with a smirk.
Sam sputtered in embarrassment while Blaine quickly moved out of reach. "I'll just go help your mother, shall I? Leave you two alone?" And with that, he was gone.
Sam furiously wished his blush away, not having the spare brain cells to come up with an excuse since most of his thoughts were in the gutter. Thanks for the love-slave comments, Blaine he thought as he heard the creak of the bathroom door opening. Kurt stepped out looking… delicious.
Sam never thought he would be into the grease monkey look, but Kurt's garage clothes did things for him. Skinny jeans stained with grease and oil, torn around the knees, a flimsy gray v-neck, stained with what appeared to be bleach. Kurt turned to close the door after him.
Unf.
There was a horizontal tear in the fabric between his knee and bum showing a glimpse of milky with skin.
Just… unf.
Kurt smiled bashfully as he made his way down the hallway. He ran his fingers through his bangs self-consciously, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "Okay, so don't judge me by my garage clothes. I don't like to wear coveralls, so I sacrificed some clothes that had gone out of season."
Sam shook his head incredulously. "What are you talking about? You look great."
"Yes, well, we'll have to agree to disagree. Um, should I just leave my clothes here or…?" the pale teen asked.
"Oh, right. You can leave them in my room." Sam tried not to freak out about the fact that he was about to have Kurt in his room. As he walked past the kitchen, Blaine stood at the breakfast bar holding some kind of sign.
Get it, Evans!
Sam glanced back a Kurt to see if he noticed the curly haired teen's shenanigans. The fair teen appeared to be taking in the décor, not paying attention to his ex-best friend. Hurumph. Before the two teens could make it up the stairs, R2-D2 hopped into view, captivating one Kurt Hummel.
"Oh my goodness, who is this?" he cooed at the Frenchie pup. Placing his clothes on a side table, Kurt scooped up the whimpering puppy and cuddled him to his chest, gently bouncing him up and down. R2 licked Kurt's upturned nose, causing him to giggle elatedly and stare at the French bulldog in adoration. Sam idly mused he's give anything to have Kurt look at him that way.
"What's his name?"
"Oh, um, it's R2-D2," Sam answered bashfully. This was just the beginning of Kurt discovering his innate nerdiness. Hopefully it wasn't a total turn off. To his complete surprise, Kurt smiled in amusement and looked over R2 with an assessing eye.
"I love it! It suits him." And with one last kiss, he placed the pup on the floor and looked to Sam, waiting to follow him to his room.
Sam led him up the stairs, all the while being followed by R2 who had taken a shining to Kurt. He ran between Kurt's feet, rubbing himself on the slender teen affectionately.
Slut he mused. Such a cuddle slut.
Reaching his room, Sam felt the need to apologize. Gripping the handle, the blond teen looked over his shoulder at Kurt's interested face. "Um, sorry about the… well, you'll see."
Pushing open the door, Sam held his breath and waited for Kurt's judgment. When he was met with silence, he chanced a look at the delicate teen. Kurt was surveying his room with a look of surprised interest.
"I have to say, your room is nothing like I imagined, but now that I've seen it, I won't be able to imagine it any other way. I forget that people don't always have my taste." At Sam's confused look, he explained. "My room is very minimalist; grey and white and modern. I like to see what people keep in their room; it's like looking into their heads."
For one tense moment, Sam worried that Kurt would determine he was a lunatic-creeper-stalker-nerd and run out of the house screaming. When nothing of the sort occurred the blond teen had to admit that he might be in the brink of a nervous breakdown; that he might be overreacting. Maybe.
Kurt held his neatly folded clothes out like a ring-bearer pillow, wiggling them questioningly. Sam mentally slapped himself for becoming so distracted by the fair teen and gestured for Kurt to just set them any old place.
The slim teen opted to place them on the end corner of his bed, making Sam's stomach flip-flop. "Shall we go temporarily mend your Camaro?"
"Uh, yeah. Do you need my help? Should I change?" Sam asked.
"Don't worry about it; it's just a quick fix. It shouldn't take more than an hour," Kurt responded. "Ready?"
"After you," Sam said while gesturing for Kurt to precede him out the door. As Kurt walked in front of him, hips swaying back and forth enticingly as he climbed down the stairs, Sam could only hope he didn't come down with a sudden case of foot-in-mouth disease.
The next hour was an exercise in humiliation. All that bending and leaning and grunting was really doing a number on Sam's self-control. The fact that Kurt poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth when he was concentrating had Sam pressing his groin against the side of the Camaro in hopes that Kurt wouldn't notice the ever-growing bulge in his jeans.
Fortunately, Sam wasn't required to contribute much to the conversation while Kurt worked since most of the blood on his body wasn't circulating in the head on his shoulders. The slim teen was quite content to babble on about what he was doing to the car, other car's he had worked on, etc.
With a triumphant grin, Kurt emerged from under the Camaro. "Ta da!" he proclaimed. "It's nothing permanent, but it'll be able to make it to my dad's shop."
"Thanks for doing this, again," Sam said, perhaps a bit breathlessly. "Seriously."
"Don't mention it," said Kurt, the tips of his ears flushing. Kurt brought his hand up to sweep it through his bangs, grimacing when he saw its current greasy state. "Um, do you think I could take a shower? Will there be time before dinner?"
All Sam's hard work thinking pure thoughts was nearly undone at those words. Kurt Hummel was going to be in his shower. Naked. Naked in his shower. Just before the silence became unbearable, Sam finally managed to form a response.
"Oh, of course," he managed to stutter out. The two teens climbed the stairs back into the Evan's home, Kurt being careful not to touch anything. Holding the door open for the slender teen, Sam gestured for him to go up the stairs. "You can use the shower in my room. There's towels in the foldy closet in the bathroom. Just come back downstairs when you're all done. I'll probably be in the kitchen."
With a grateful smile, Kurt sped up the stairs and into Sam's room double-quick. Once he was sure Kurt was out of sight, the blond teen leaned against the wall and heaved a giant sigh of relief. He hadn't even known the fair-skinned teen for two weeks and he was already certain that Kurt was going to be the death of him.
Steeling himself, Sam pushed open the door to the kitchen and saw his mother and Blaine "innocently" chatting with one another as they prepared dinner. He placed his hands on his hips and glared for all he was worth. Blaine continued to look unrepentant but his mother's confident look faded into contriteness.
"Did—did something happen, Sammy?" she worried.
When Sam continued to glare, Blaine's smugness faded. Finally taking pity on them, the angry teen spoke his mind.
"I know that you both know I have some kind of feelings for Kurt and you think you're helping and being cute, but it's just making things really difficult," he began. "I know you guys have the best intentions at heart, but I would really appreciate if you guys didn't meddle. This is… it's still really new and I kinda wanted to do this on my own; at my own pace because I'm still trying to find out how I feel and Kurt's going through some difficult stuff and I don't wanna rush things and mess it up with him; if I even have a chance."
Finishing his monologue, Sam exhaled loudly and looked back at the two most important people in his life. He didn't want to yell at them or whatever, but he really needed them to understand this. It had nothing to do with the fact that Kurt was a guy and everything to do with the fact that this was the first time Sam had felt like this. Ever.
Blaine was the first to speak. "Sam, man, I'm… I'm really sorry. I wasn't thinking; I just wanted to, I dunno, help you along? But you're right; this is your relationship and not really any of my business…" he trailed off, shame-faced.
Patricia just got teary eyes and hugger her son close, whispering "I'm sorry," in a choked voice. She pulled back and patted Sam's face maternally. "I'm so proud of you."
"Ma…" Sam said bashfully, scuffing the floor with his sneaker. She flicked her fingers at him, pointing the sink for him to wash his hands.
"Wash up and help your old mother," she commanded playfully, abandoning her sullen mood in a flash.
"Bite your tongue!" Blaine exclaimed dramatically. "You are the very picture of a spring day! A lovelier sight has never existed!"
Sam responded by flicking the excess water on his hands at the curly-haired teen, making his friend huff in mock outrage.
Patricia just shook her head fondly at the boys. On second they could surprise you with how mature they were; acting like everything you had ever hoped they could be and the next they could still be those little boys that had tickle fights in the kitchen.
As Sam and Blaine were setting the table (minus one, Robert was called to the office for some super important meeting or something) the door to the kitchen opened slowly to allow a very wet and clean Kurt slip through. Kurt's skin was still slightly pink from the heat of the shower, causing the blond teen to lick his lips unconsciously.
Blaine and his mother pointedly pretended not to notice Sam's inability to function. Patricia intervened before the delicate teen noticed Sam's infatuated expression. "I hope chicken carbonara and salad is alright with you, sweetheart. It's kind of an Evan's tradition on Sunday's; it's one of Sammy's favorites."
"Sounds great, Mrs. Evans," Kurt replied.
"Patricia," all three of the others in the kitchen chorused.
"Right, sorry," Kurt said, skin pinking even further.
"Not at all, honey. It's nice to see a boy with manners these days." Patricia gestured for Kurt to take a seat as she finished cooking the delicious smelling pasta and tossed it onto a wonderfully chic serving platter. Blaine grabbed the wooden salad bowl and placed it on the table.
Everyone took their seats; Kurt last so he could just fill in the empty chair (some people were weird about their spots, okay?). Kurt felt a tendril of anxiety curl in his stomach over whether or not he would be expected to say grace.
His fears were unfounded and the other boys dug in immediately, Patricia smiling fondly at their antics while placing salad into her bowl daintily. Ever the courteous one, Kurt plucked up the courage to compliment Mrs. Evan's service ware.
"I love your serving platter. Twall is so classic," he said shyly.
Patricia lit up and launched into a discussion about things Sam couldn't really follow. Even though Kurt ended up talking to his mom more than him throughout dinner, the blond teen couldn't help but be happy that Kurt got along so well with the single most important person in his life.
Dinner passed in a blink and far too soon for his liking, Sam was walking Kurt down the steps to his Navigator. Blaine and his mom had mercifully stayed inside and he could only hope they weren't spying on him out of the kitchen/living room windows.
Sam knew he had less than no game; he didn't need an audience to watch his fumbling attempts at flirting. Sam never thought he'd be grateful for destroying his car but boy, was he ever.
Kurt strolled to the back of his SUV and tossed his soiled clothes into the storage area. He turned to face Sam and slowly backed towards the driver's side door. He took a deep breath and smiled at Sam shyly. "Um, this was nice. It's unfortunate it stemmed from you wrecking that magnificent piece of mechanical engineering, but… nice."
Sam felt the goofiest, lamest, grin erupt on his face, but he didn't care. He only hoped he didn't scare Kurt away with his inane smile. "Yeah, it was."
Kurt suddenly shook himself and opened the door, turning to face him as he leaned against the seat. "Since I don't have camp anymore, I am going to go into work with my dad. After you finish getting knocked around by Neanderthals, you could drive that beauty over. If you want," he added in a rush.
"Yeah," Sam replied simply.
There was a soft click and then an ambient hum in the air. The day had finally faded into night, setting the off the outside lights. Sam thought the soft yellow glow of the lights made Kurt even more alluring. The silence between them was charged with something neither boy could put their finger on. They stood, just staring at each other awkwardly, neither one willing to interrupt whatever was happening between them.
Unable to withstand the tension any longer, the slender teen bit his lip and raised himself onto his tip-toes, holding his arms out for a hug. Sam stepped forward and timidly wrapped his arms around Kurt's slim form while the other teen returned the tentative embrace.
Stepping back, Sam immediately started with his nervous hair-rubbing tick while Kurt giggled breathlessly. The blond teen could feel himself flushing to the tips of his ears.
"So, see you tomorrow?" Sam asked cautiously.
This time it was Kurt's turn to be dumbstruck. "Uh-huh."
Kurt hopped into his Lincoln and strapped himself in while Sam gently closed the door. He stepped back, because as much as he didn't want Kurt to leave, he really didn't want his feet to get run over. With one last wave, Kurt pulled out of his driveway and began the drive home.
Sam exhaled explosively, spearing his fingers through his hair and tugging, making his hair stick up wildly. He was this close to Googling flirting techniques. The tanned teen was pretty sure that if he kissed Kurt he wouldn't have gotten a swift knee to the groin but he just wasn't certain.
The last guy he was with, Jesse, had been all over him. Waaay too forward and aggressive and smug that Sam felt even less competent with guys than he did with girls, which was saying something. And after the Karofsky incident, Sam was even less sure what to do.
Shit. Did he just mess up big time? Or get major brownie points? One thing was certain.
He was going to have to talk to Blaine.
As humiliating as it was going to be, he needed some serious help in the Hummel department. And after dinner, Sam was pretty sure his mom was already planning their wedding and would kill him if he drove her new fashion-friend away because he was a relationship reject. As he trudged up the stairs, he noticed the curtains near the front door swish.
Perfect. I'm so glad they saw that… Sam thought sarcastically.
As the muscular teen walked back inside he was relieved to see only Blaine looking at him guiltily.
"Well?" Sam asked tartly. Then, "Sorry, I just—I dunno."
Blaine went from contrite to contemplative in a second. "What is it?"
Sam heard his mother puttering in the kitchen. The thought of her overhearing this made the butterflies in his stomach rebel. "Not here. Can we…?" he trailed off, pointing up to his room.
Blaine nodded kindly and the two teens quickly found themselves ensconced in the relative safety of Sam's room. Idly petting R2 for comfort, the blond teen tried to gather his wits. Finally, Sam decided to just dive right in.
"I know you know, but I really like Kurt," he began. "I don't wanna screw it up. I have even less of an idea of what I am doing with guys than I do with girls," he bemoaned.
"I never shoulda set you up with Jesse St. James," Blaine lamented acidly. "He is so not your type and he clearly broke you."
Ignoring Blaine's outburst, Sam plowed on. "Like, it really sucks that I screwed up my car, but it's really awesome that it gave me an excuse to get to know Kurt better, you know? I just feel like he's so out of my league and that I could never keep him interested, even if I managed to hold it together long enough to ask him out."
Blaine looked at Sam disbelievingly. In a perfect world, they would have fallen for each other and it would have been so easy; like breathing. But, after that one kiss they hadn't felt drawn to each other at all, just the best of friends. The curly-haired teen just wanted his friend to be happy.
"Okay, first of all, anyone not interested in you is crazy and totally not worth your time. And second of all; he so is! Half the reason I came inside is because you guys' ridiculous moon-eyes were making me sick!" he said with a smile, his tone belying his words.
Sam looked up from R2. "Really?"
"Yeah," Blaine soothed. "Okay, so, you obviously know I was eavesdropping like a little girl. For a minute there it looked like you were going to kiss him. Why didn't you...?" He looked at Sam with caring eyes, not judging him for his hesitance like Wes and David would have done.
"I couldn't," Sam murmured. When Blaine gazed at him in confusion, Sam told him about what he saw in the locker room. Blaine looked horrified, on the verge of tears for a boy he barely knew. "It just felt wrong, so soon after. Like, without a date or anything."
The curly-haired teen nodded in understanding. Before he could respond, he was interrupted by a quiet rapping on the door. "Come in," Sam called.
Patricia poked her head in the door and noticed the serious tone of the room immediately. She could only assume that it had something to do with that charming boy Sammy seemed to have his eye on.
"Hey, honey, sorry to bother you but I forgot to mention this over dinner; Grandma Caldwell is going to be in town next week for her 75th birthday. We're throwing her a big party and she kept dropping hints about how the only thing she wanted for her birthday was to see her only grandson in a suit."
Patricia delivered the last line with a predatory grin. Sam groaned and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Blowing her children a kiss goodnight (she'd considered Blaine one of her own for years), she left them to their own devices.
As she left, Sam let out a jaw-cracking yawn. Blaine stood up and took R2 out of his friend's lax arms. "Lay down, get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning. Then you can get your football on, we can work on a game plan for you to get your adorable mechanic, and then you two can ride off into the sunset."
Sam lazily threw a pillow at Blaine, missing by a mile. Laughing, the curly-haired teen sauntered out of the room, secretly looking forward to seeing a certain mohawked football player.
Practice without Kurt sucked, and that was putting it lightly. Before Sam had gone to bed he had sat on Facebook for over an hour, hoping Kurt would get on and maybe doing a bit of stalking. Finally, ever the voice of reason, Blaine had texted him around 10:30.
Go to sleep, idiot! Getting your ass kicked at practice because you're half asleep won't help you woo Kurt.
Sam sighed and slapped his laptop closed and settled into bed grumpily. Damn Blaine and his logic.
Now Sam was sitting on the bleachers, studiously avoiding Finn's guilty glances and daydreaming about Kurt. If there was one good thing about this torturously long day it was seeing Finn get his ass handed to him during practice. Apparently, the teen couldn't do two things at the same time, so feeling guilty and paying attention to incoming tackles was just too difficult for the tall teen.
Sam spent most of the time he wasn't practicing trying to glare a hole into David Karofsky's head. He had never wished for someone to spontaneously burst into flames so ardently. His first instinct was to confront him about what he had witnessed but he felt it wasn't his place. Not like, say, if he were Kurt's boyfriend.
No matter. He could wait. In the mean time, he'd just plot all the ways he was going to destroy the bulky teen once Kurt was hopelessly in love with him. A kid can dream, right?
Finally, finally, practice was over. The blond teen decide to forgo showering in the locker rooms for doing it at home, where he could relax and get ready for what was sure to be a memorable afternoon with Kurt.
Sam jogged to the parking lot and saw Blaine's S Class parked on the side of the track. Instead of waiting in the air conditioned interior of the car, his curly-haired friend was leaning against the door, looking up through his lashes at one Noah Puckerman. He didn't like the way the mohawked teen was looking (read: leering) at him.
Noticing Sam's approach, Blaine looked to the muscular teen apologetically. Puck just shrugged and handed Blaine a slip a paper with a cheeky grin. Blaine unfolded it at smiled bashfully up at Puck, biting his lip shyly. With a nod towards Sam, Puck ambled toward the showers.
Sam went to the passenger side door and raised his eyebrow at his friend, causing Blaine to shrug coyly. The two teens settled into the car and began the drive back to Sam's. Blaine was chewing on his lip and grinning like a loon.
Even though Sam felt his big brother feelings rearing to the surface he felt happy for Blaine, since they were experiencing the same thing. "So, Puck, huh?"
"Yeah," Blaine said breathlessly. "What… what do you think?"
"I think… that he's definitely your type," he replied with a grin. "And apparently, he has a thing for hobbits."
"Shut up!" Blaine said playfully as he pulled into the driveway. "Now come on, let's go get you gussied up."
Kurt had been sitting in his father's office for about fifteen minutes now, banished there after one too many "accidents". He had dropped parts, countless tools, and kicked over a pan filled with absolutely revolting sludge in it. The final straw came when the petite teen knocked over the radio, jamming it on some country station that had Jerry howling like a coyote.
If his dad suspected his unusual clumsiness had anything to do with the "friend" that would be coming by later, he tactfully didn't mention it. And it was probably for the best; he couldn't spill anything on himself in here. Well, other than the water he was drinking.
Kurt had frantically searched through the entirety of his garage clothes that morning. He finally settled on the most form-fitting pair of jeans he had and a paper-thin, super low V-neck that had been delegated to the garage drawer after a fatal encounter with a slushy. He wonderfully white tee was now a delicate shade of pink with white spots.
When he had looked around Sam's room he had noticed the blond teen had an affinity for quirky (adorably geeky) things. Along with a delicious leather belt, Tina had given him some wonderfully unique belt buckles for Christmas. He looked through them and eventually decided on a buckled shaped like an old-school Nintendo controller. A pair of converse completed the ensemble and then they were off to the shop.
Sitting in his dad's office, Kurt let his mind wander to the blond teen. His happy thoughts were soon cut short when he remembered something Sam had said that day in the locker room. He had dated Jesse.
Shit. He had dated Jesse.
Panicking, he hadn't even thought to consult his new friend about him maybe, sorta, kinda being infatuated with someone that was apparently his ex. Wrenching his phone out of his back pocket, Kurt scrolled to his friend's name and tapped out a quick message.
Hey, Jesse. I kinda have something to tell/ask you.
A few moments later, he got a response.
Should I be worried?
Kurt sighed, typing back.
Worried? No. Mad? Maybe…
His reply came quicker this time.
Spill, Hummel.
Taking a deep breath, Kurt contemplated how to get this in 140 characters. One step at a time, I guess.
Um, so you know that blond footballer I have been gushing to you about? I think you may have dated him…
Kurt held his breath while he waited for Jesse to text him back.
Michael Jones?
…What?
Um, no.
Caleb... MacSomething?
Kurt was baffled.
What? No! Jeeze, how many blondes have you dated? Sam Evans!
How was it that, until now, Kurt had never found someone remotely homosexual and Jesse St. Jerkface has dated enough blondes to make the gay equivalent of Hugh Heffner jealous? Kurt's phone buzzed in his hands.
Oh! He was adorable; all stuttery and timid. Are you trying to ask me if I'd shun you for dating my ex?
This was promising.
Um, yes? Maybe? It's not like he's even asked me or anything. Or kissed me! Or like, anything. Just, you know, in case.
Why did he send that?
Aww, is he being all chivalrous and tentative while trying to woo the fair maiden? It's all you, Skurt. You'll make adorable gay babies together.
Sometimes Kurt wanted to strangle Jesse. How could he manage to embarrass him through a text message? Unfair. His phone buzzed again.
Seriously, though. There were no hard feelings, we just didn't work. I was the first guy he'd been with and I came on too strong. I thinking of who I could set you up with and I was kinda sorry I lost his number.
Kurt smiled.
Sometimes, you're alright St. James.
The response was immediate.
You only wish you knew how "alright" I was ;)
As Kurt was about to respond to Jesse, another text popped up on his screen.
Sam.
Ohgodohgodohgod he thought anxiously. He looked at the clock on the wall. Nearly 3. Breathe, Kurt.
He tapped a final response, to Jesse. A simple "Oh, hush". Not nearly as witty as he hoped, but he was dealing with the elation/terror at being texted by his crush for the first time. Steeling himself, Kurt opened the text.
hey there
So simple, but Kurt felt his heart flutter in his chest.
Hello.
He realized he was wearing a huge smile that everyone and their brother could see through the glass enclosure. He quickly sat in his father's office chair and spun it to face the television and the one solid wall in the office. His phone vibrated in his hand.
is it still ok for me to come to th garage? I dont wanna bug you if youre busy.
Kurt clenched his jaw together to keep from squealing in delight.
Nope, not busy at all. Head over whenever you're ready. Do you need directions?
Kurt idly swayed back and forth in the office chair while waiting for Sam's response. Before he could get too comfortable, his phone buzzed.
nah, I googled it. The directions seem pretty straightforward.
Kurt smiled and ran his fingers through his bangs, twisting them into submission.
Alrighty. Call me if you get lost. Or breakdown.
He pressed the phone to his face and felt it pulse against his nose.
Haha, k. on my way
Kurt lost track of how long he sat in his father's chair, reveling in the warm feeling blossoming in his chest. Finally, the delicate teen got up and slipped his phone into his pocket, seeking out his father. He found him covered in grease, hitting the radio with a wrench in hopes it changes the station.
"Sorry," Kurt apologized again.
"Don't worry about it, Bambi. It's just an excuse to get a new one."
"Right. Um, so, my friend is on his way over. It's still okay that he comes, right?" Kurt asked.
His dad looked around the shop with a calculating eye. "Sure, of course. But all the lifts are being used and we really need to do Mr. Alan's Bentley before the day is over, so you guys may have to wait a bit."
"No problem," Kurt replied with a smile. And then quietly, "Thanks, Daddy."
Burt brought his hand up to ruffle his son's hair, causing Kurt to shriek in indignation. And then go into a full scale panic as a yellow Camaro pulled into the parking lot of the shop. Of course Sam would arrive after his father ran his sludge covered fingers through his prized locks.
Kurt briefly debated whether or not he could run to the bathroom and do emergency hair repairs before Sam saw him but he wondered too long and was spotted. Sam smiled and waved at him happily and Kurt found his feet carrying him over to the blond teen of their own volition.
As Kurt walked over to the muscular teen, he noticed his appearance. Wow, he thought. Just—I, um, wow.
Sam was wearing a light blue shirt with 8-bit Mario characters on it (We match! he thought ecstatically). The shirt clung to his biceps and pecs deliciously. He was wearing a pair of khaki-colored cargo shorts and leather flip-flops and he looked so wonderfully tan and beachy and unique (well, compared to Ohio boys) that Kurt's breath caught in his throat.
Sam shook his damp hair and pushed his aviators on top of his head and it gave Kurt the excuse to stare into his sparkling hazel-green eyes. When they finally reached one another, the blond teen surprised him by immediately reaching for a hug. Kurt reciprocated, lifting onto his tip-toes in excitement.
He'd have to watch that; it was one of his tell-tale signs of happiness and his dad was sure to notice. He didn't want Sam to get a huge dose of Papa Bear Burt the first day they met.
As they pulled back, Kurt smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I'm all sweaty and messy and… greasy."
"Psh, not even!" he replied.
"Was the ride over here okay? It looked like it was going to hold up but you never know," Kurt rambled nervously.
"It was fine; you did a great job, seriously. I'm impressed… and kind of embarrassed that I destroyed my car going over a pothole like an idiot…" said Sam, trailing off bashfully.
"Don't be. Ohio has some terrible roads, especially for a sports car like yours."
There was a moment of charged silence between them. Their eyes met and the two teens laughed and the tension was effectively broken.
"So, we're a bit busy at the moment; all the lifts are taken. It'll be a little bit before I can get to work on your car."
"Hey, no problem. There's no rush, really. Thanks again, by the way" Sam said sincerely.
Kurt shrugged shyly, scuffing his feet on the ground. In the momentary silence, Kurt heard the other teen's stomach growl. He looked up in to Sam's face and watched a flinch bloom across his attractive features.
"I… may have been so anxious to get here that I forgot to eat after camp…" he admitted.
Kurt's heart started to pound; this was the perfect excuse for them to get away from his father's watchful eyes. "Um, do you want to get something to eat? I know a really good place, not too far from here…" Kurt tried to ignore the fact that his voice had come out shaky and timid hoped that Sam did too.
"Yeah, that would be great," replied Sam. Kurt noticed with some small amount of satisfaction that Sam's voice wobbled too.
"Um, let me just grab my wallet," Kurt said while turning to hustle to his father's office. Before he got two steps, Sam gently caught his forearm, preventing further movement. He looked to the taller teen in curiosity.
"Don't worry about it; my treat. It's the least I can do."
The butterflies in his stomach exploded into motion. A boy was buying him lunch. A wonderfully sweet, blond, gorgeous boy was buying him lunch. "Thanks," he breathed.
Before the teens separated, Kurt saw his father coming over to them.
Damn. Damndamndamn.
Kurt turned to his dad and tried to convey "Don't you dare say anything to embarrass me or frighten him away" with his eyes. From his father's bewildered expression, Kurt had to assume he failed.
"Hey, Kurt. This your friend?" he asked tersely.
"Uh, yeah. Dad, this is Sam Evans. Sam, this is my dad, Burt Hummel."
Sam held out his hand to Kurt's father. "Nice to meet you, sir," he greeted respectfully. "Thank you for the help."
Kurt saw his father relax minutely. Thank goodness. Politeness always went a long way with his father. It didn't hurt that he had told his dad that Sam was one of the only good things about football camp; that he didn't care about the ugliness and hatefulness of other teenage boys and wanted to be his friend anyway.
"Don't mention it," he said with a shrug. He turned back to his son, taking in his blush. Oh. Ohhhh. Well. Burt resisted the urge to toss Kurt over his shoulders or lock him in his room forever and ever. He knew this day would come, but he didn't think any father was really ready for it. He was interrupted from his train of thought when his son spoke up again.
"Since it's so busy here, we're going to go down to Star Fruit's for some lunch. Is that…okay?"
Star Fruit, excellent. Burt could trust Maggie to keep an eye on the boys and report back to him later. "You go ahead. Take your phone." Kurt smiled and hugged him in gratitude. Still my little boy. Burt smirked and brushed his thumb over Kurt's cheek, leaving a black smear in its wake. With one last (stern) look at Sam, Burt went back to work.
Kurt turned to Sam. "Ready?"
Sam nodded with a smile. He bit his lip to keep from laughing. "You have a bit of grease. Just….here," he whispered. He reached forward and gently wiped Kurt's cheek, then displaying his hand to show the smudge before he rubbed it off on his jeans.
"Thanks," Kurt breathed. "Um, do you mind walking? It's not too far."
"Not at all; I kinda love the summer."
Kurt looked to Sam's sun (and chemically) bleached hair. "Of course you do," he teased.
Sam nudged his with his shoulder and the two began the short walk there. Before long, the quirky café/shop came into view and Kurt looked to the blond teen to judge his reaction. He turned to Kurt and smiled blindingly.
"Awesome," he said simply.
Points. Major points.
The bell jingled as they walked in and Kurt noticed that his Aunt was quite busy at the counter. He sighed in relief, but it was short-lived. Maggie could smell blossoming relationships from a mile away and it seemed that she had scented Kurt's.
Please don't meddle. Please don't meddle.
Maggie simply smiled predatorily and went back to a young girl questioning her about the authenticity of the saffron they carried.
"This place is so cool. I wish we had something like it closer to me," Sam mused.
Kurt smiled and nodded understandingly. How could you not want a place like this near you? The delicate teen led Sam to the prepared meals and pointed to the menu above the case as well. Kurt grabbed a "Macabre" salad and moved out of the way, letting Sam look his fill.
"I'm going to grab a piece of fruit," he told Sam before wandering around the fragrant piles of fruit. He snagged some strawberries and meandered back over to the muscular teen who was looking quite perplexed.
"Can't decide?" Kurt quipped.
Sam looked to the slender teen and sighed in exasperation. "No! But I narrowed it down to two; Roast Beast or the Night Club."
"I've had the club, it's really good. If that helps," Kurt replied.
"It does," and with that, Sam grabbed the massive turkey club sandwich.
Kurt held up the container of strawberries he grabbed. "Do you like strawberries?"
"Love 'em" Sam replied with a smile.
Kurt squealed in delight inside his head. He may or may not have had dreams about eating strawberries with his crush. The setting was a little different than outside his aunt's store, but it was good enough. Sam's eyes lit up when he saw the drink containers near the front of the store; huge, clear canisters that housed different iced drinks daily (hot for winter, of course). Kurt poured himself cucumber water while the blonde teen selected the largest cup and got peach tea.
"All set?" he asked Kurt. The delicate teen nodded and gestured to the counter where Maggie laid in wait, magenta nails drumming on the surface of the till.
"Hey, Kurt honey. Give your auntie a kiss," Maggie demanded. Kurt rolled his eyes and pecked her on her powdered cheek. He inhaled the familiar scent of MAC and smiled. He loved this woman. And then she trained her bespectacled eyes on Sam. And yet sometimes he hated her so very much.
"Well, hello there, tall, blond, and handsome," she purred. "You takin' care of my baby today?" she asked sweetly. Kurt heard it for what it was; a threat. Take care of him of I will cut you.
Sam laughed good-naturedly and met Maggie's glinting eyes. "Yeah, lunch is on me. Least I could do until I find a better way to thank him for helping me with my car."
"Well, aren't you sweet?" Translation: You best stay sweet or I will end you.
Sam seemed oblivious to the undercurrents in the air, handing over his credit card when she finished ringing them up. Maggie looked around the tall teen and looked at Kurt. He could tell from her expression that he would be getting a phone call later and he had a lot of dishing to do.
Maggie handed Sam back his card and Kurt gathered their food while Sam signed the credit slip. "We're just going to go sit outside," Kurt explained. The blond teen grabbed their drinks and the two teens claimed a round cement table with curved benches and a cheery salmon-colored umbrella shooting up from the middle of the table.
The teens separated their lunches and dug in. Well, Sam dug in, Kurt picked at his Cobb salad daintily. Sam took a long sip of his ultra-sweet peach tea and smiled blissfully. Kurt shivered in horror.
"I don't know how you can stand that!" Kurt laughed. "It's so sweet!"
Sam laughed back and just shrugged. "I'm from the South. I've pretty much been drinking this since I was a fetus."
"Oh? Where are you from, originally?" Even though they had only been there for a moment, Kurt was grateful that conversation wasn't stilted or painful.
"My parents are from Louisiana. As much as they loved it there, my dad's business took them here when I was in middle-school and we never left. My mom flies to New York once or twice a month; she works for Michael Kors. We go back as often as we can."
"Do you miss it? Ohio is a lot different."
Sam put down his sandwich and looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I do miss it, but I like it here too. I've been here for long enough that this feels like home too."
Kurt smiled, and conversation continued on without pause, touching on subjects like music (obviously), favorite books, movies, colors, etc. As Kurt was talking about his love of shopping, the blond teen suddenly looked elated and then very nervous before he spoke again.
"So, hey. Um, I noticed that after practice and, like, right now, you dress really well…" he trailed off.
"Thank you," Kurt murmured. If that wasn't a compliment, the delicate teen didn't know what was.
"Would you—would you wanna go shopping with me? Like, this weekend?" Kurt's heart swelled. "Um, my grandmom is coming down for her birthday and we're having a fancy dinner. She's hinted pretty heavily that she wants me to wear a suit. Um, I trust you not to make me look like an idiot. That is, if you want to," he finished with a blush.
"Yeah. Um—I, yeah, I'd love to," Kurt stuttered. His hands were trembling and he dropped a half-eaten strawberry onto his pants, leaving a pink ring on his jeans.
"Great," Sam replied with a goofy grin.
Kurt could get used to that.
The two teens made their way back to the shop, hyper-aware of their hands occasionally brushing. As they walked into the shop, Kurt could see two of the lifts were open and that the rest of the crew was getting ready to leave and his dad was sitting in the office going over paperwork.
"Just a sec," Kurt said as he trotted over to his father. When he walked into the office Kurt noticed the clock on his desk read that it was six o'clock. Where had the time gone? "Hey, Dad. Is it okay if I put Sam's car on the lift now?"
Burt glanced out the windows, seeing the shop emptying for the evening. "Go ahead."
As Kurt left the room, his father called him back. Pausing in the doorway, Kurt turned to look at his father.
"Have a good time, Bambi?"
Kurt smiled sweetly. "Yeah," he replied softly.
Burt smiled and looked back to the papers. "I think I am just going to leave this for the weekend. Will you be alright here by yourself?"
Inside, Kurt was flabbergasted. His dad was going to leave him to close the shop, alone, with a boy he most definitely liked. Who has this and what had he done with Burt Hummel? Just go with it…
"Yeah, I know how to close up. Um, do you want me home by a certain time?"
Burt grimaced and sighed. "No, it's summer. School starts soon; enjoy yourself. Just… be careful, yeah?"
Kurt crossed the room and kissed his father on the cheek. "I will," he whispered. "Love you."
"Love you too."
Kurt walked out to the parking lot and found Sam perched against the hood of his Camaro, phone in hand. He looked up at the sound of Kurt's approach and smiled as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.
"Okay, we're all set to get her on the lift. Gimme the keys, blondie," Kurt teased.
"Don't trust my driving skills?" Sam asked dryly.
"Oh, I do. I've just been looking for a reason to get behind the wheel of this beauty all day."
Sam laughed uproariously and handed over the keys. Kurt maneuvered the car into position and drove onto the risers, reveling in the feel of the supple leather under his hands. Getting out, Kurt walked over to the hanging remote and raised the car to a workable level.
Sam walked cautiously over to a chair placed near the end of a worktable. "I'm not going to get in the way if I sit here, am I?"
"Nah, that's fine."
Kurt pulled over a tool tray and got to work. "I don't know that I'm going to be able to get everything done tonight, we'll see though,"
"Take your time. My mom said I could use her car until this is finished. She says thanks for this as well."
Kurt smiled and got to work, chatting idly with the blond teen and falling for him more and more.
Hours passed and found Sam standing under the car in the glow of the shop, listening intently to what Kurt said. It wasn't that he had any interest in mending cars; he was enraptured by the sound of the slim teen's voice. Kurt was truly stunning in his element.
At this moment, Sam had never been more grateful to his parents. If they hadn't listened to him, if they had made him stay at Dalton, he may never have met this spectacular boy. Sam was surprised at the depth of his feelings for a boy he had only just met.
He couldn't help but be hopelessly charmed by Kurt's sweet, soft voice and his vivaciousness. Sam wasn't sure that he would be able to smile as much as Kurt had since the Karofsky incident.
Outside there was a cacophony of insects, the buzzing and chirping reminding Sam of Louisiana. A homey, warm feeling settled deep in his chest as he thought of all the things he wanted to share with Kurt, if he ever got the nerve to just reach out and take him. Sam was dreading Blaine's arrival to take him home more and more as the minutes passed.
So here he stood, toe-to-toe with the boy of his dreams (literally), staring into his face while Kurt's gaze was focused upward, adjusting this and that on his Camaro. The delicate teen reached onto his toes, biting his lip in concentration. The blond teen let his eyes drift down the slender teen's body and settled on the strip of skin where his shirt had ridden up.
The milky white skin, glinting with sweat, held Sam's focus for a long while. Kurt shifted down and the glimpse of skin was once again hidden from sight. He once again focused on Kurt's eyes, watching the play of lights and shadows on his face. He was completely enamored.
Kurt had kept up a steady commentary on his progress, usually content to fill the silence by himself. Now, he looked to Sam expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer. Kurt's soft face lit up with a gentle smile.
"Sam, have you been listening to a word I've said?" he asked good-naturedly.
"No," he said softly.
Before Kurt could respond, Sam took one last step, closing the remaining distance between them. Kurt's let out a quiet gasp, shifting the wrench in his hand awkwardly. Sam slowly reached up and took it out of his lax fingers and tossed it on the ground.
His fingers clasped Kurt's waist, his wrist, thumbs gently caressing the skin found there. He slowly pulled the slender teen's arm toward him and placed it over his shoulder while its twin found itself just beneath Sam's ribcage.
Sam gently cupped Kurt's flushing cheek and pressed in close to the shivering teen. He leaned forward, not quite touching Kurt's lips with his own. The blond teen gently brushed his nose against Kurt's own, back and forth, back and forth.
Eskimo kisses Sam thought idly, feeling his insides flutter even more.
Sam opened his eyes and stared in to the wide, clear blue eyes only inches from his own. Sam couldn't put his feelings into words if he tried, so he hoped his eyes were doing the talking.
You're beautiful. You're prefect. And then Please don't hate me for this. Please don't be too soon.
Finally, finally, Sam gently pressed a kiss to the side of Kurt's mouth, then the other. The slender teen exhaled shakily, fingers digging into Sam's shoulders. Kurt, it turned out, was an excellent eye-talker.
Please they said. Please.
Sam brought both his hands to Kurt's neck, fingers softly rubbing his jaw. "Is this-"
"Yes!" Kurt gasped. Then softer, "Yes."
The fair teen's eyes fluttered closed and he tilted his head up, seeking Sam's lips and nearly jumped when they (finally!) met his own. The blond teen gently massaged his full lips over Kurt's, causing him to whimper desperately.
Sam felt a zing of arousal shoot through him. Eager to discover what else made Kurt whimper, he eased back, only to press forward again and nibble on the slender teens bottom lip, turning Kurt in to a whimpering, quivering mess.
Sam pulled back to look at Kurt's dazed face and allowed himself to feel a bit smug. He felt the corners of his lips tug upwards and he let out a happy chuckle.
Kurt opened his heavy lids and saw Sam's besotted expression. He felt tears prick his eyes and he surged forward, desperately pressing a kiss to Sam's smiling mouth. The blond teen quickly encircled Kurt in his arms and returned the kiss with fervor, feeling the slim boy raise onto his toes.
Breaking apart for air, Sam gently nudged at Kurt with his nose. Sheesh, trust him to develop a nose fetish. With a desperate groan, the blond teen pulled Kurt even closer. He gently lapped at the seam of the smaller boy's lips, coaxing them to open for him.
Kurt parted his lips, tentatively returning the slick caresses with his own tongue, spearing his fingers in Sam's thick hair. Kurt's senses were filled with Sam; his smell, his taste, his touch. As Sam deepened their kiss, slowly tangling his tongue with Kurt's own, they were blinding by the bright lights of a Mercedes S Class.
Sam felt his pocket buzz and nearly groaned in protest. Instead, he pulled his mouth away from Kurt with a wet smack. He exhaled loudly and pressed his forehead against Kurt's and simply stood there for a moment.
He finally opened his eyes and saw Kurt staring at him, his eyes soft with some emotion Sam was almost too afraid to name. The blond teen nodded towards Blaine's car in apology. "Sorry."
"S'okay," Kurt said breathlessly, still shaking minutely.
Sam's phone buzzed in his pocket again, making him jump. Kurt wrinkled his nose in pleasure, squeezing his shoulder fondly. "Go," he whispered.
Sam cupped his cheek with one hand, pressing one final, lingering kiss to the side of Kurt's mouth before ambling towards the blinding headlights of his friend's car.
As Sam slid into the passenger seat, Kurt brought his hands to his lips his wonder. He could still feel the muscular teen all over him, taste him on his lips.
Peaches he thought wistfully. Maybe sweet tea isn't so bad after all.
Finis!
What do you think? I didn't get as far into the plot at I would have liked, but the next chapter should be up in a day or so. It's date time!
Don't worry, some steaminess ahead in the next chapter :D
Ciao, lovelies! 3