A/N: Here's the final chapter. I hope you guys like it. It's been a joy writing this story. It would mean a lot to me if you took a few moments to leave some feedback when you're done. Thanks!

Making It Work

Chapter 25 – Promise

"I'm really glad you could come, Rory. I know some of the things we did last night were a little outside your comfort zone."

"They were, Sammy," Rory admitted. "But it was good t'push me limits. Besides, I didn't want t'disappoint ye...or Finn."

"Yeah, I knew Finn would enjoy himself," Sam said brightly. "I'm so glad we included him."

"Me too. I just wish I wasn't so sore now," Rory complained.

"Yeah, if we'd had a mattress and more room to spread out, it would have been better," Sam said. "Plus, then Finn probably wouldn't have stepped on your sack." Sam shuddered again remembering the sickening crunch. "You're sure you're not mad at him?"

"O'course not. I wouldn't get upset about a little thing like that," Rory answered.

"But he tore it!"

"It was an accident, though, and I didn't have anything important in there anyway. Just some beans."

Sam smiled and gave Rory a quick kiss as he pulled up to a stop sign in the Pierces' neighborhood. "You're the best, Ror, and it meant the world to Stevie that you came camping with us."

It was early Sunday evening and Sam had already dropped off Stevie at their house and Finn at his and was now taking Rory back to the Pierces. He had hoped that he would be able to spend the night with Rory that night, but his parents had vetoed the request, insisting that Sam come home and catch up on homework since he'd been out all weekend on the camping trip. They had, however, agreed to let him stay with Rory until after dinner. So as Rory made a beeline for the shower, desperate to wash away two days worth of sweat and grime, Sam plunked down on the living room couch next to Santana.

"Where's Brittany?" he inquired, casually raising his arm and tossing it over the back of the couch.

"Eughh, Sam!" Santana slid to the far end of the cushion and glared at him. "She's taking a nap. God, you smell like baked bear shit."

Sam frowned. "There aren't any showers in the woods."

"There are in Lima though," Santana countered.

"Rory got dibs."

"You should go join him."

Sam's glanced away thoughtfully, his eyes glazing over. "That would be fun." A moment later he shook his head and frowned again. "But no, he wouldn't go for that while the Pierces are home and everybody's moving around."

Santana laughed and gave him a rare soft look, happy that everything had worked out for her ex.

Sam caught the expression and decided to take the opportunity to get something that had been weighing on him for a long time off his chest. "You could have told me you know. About you and Brittany."

Santana frowned and folded her arms, briefly taken off guard that he had finally broached the subject she had been expecting him to broach since he first came back to McKinley at the beginning of the year. "No, I couldn't have."

"I would have understood."

"No, you would have been heartbroken."

"I was anyway," Sam said quietly, lowering his arms from the back of the couch and dropping them in his lap. The wound was healed over now, covered by almost a year of time, a tentative friendship, and their respective happy new relationships, but it was still there; it still hurt sometimes when he looked at her, especially on these rare occasions when they were alone together.

"I know you were, Sam," Santana answered in the compassionate tone she usually reserved only for Brittany. "And I am sorry. I...I wasn't ready."

Sam thought that over for a little while, trying to work out how he felt about it. Then he said, "Okay, I get that. But why Karofsky? I mean, I could have been your mustache."

"Beard, Sam," Santana corrected gently. "And you were for awhile but"–she sighed in frustration–"believe it or not I was trying to do the right thing. Our relationship was real to you, but with Dave we were both faking."

"It wasn't real to you?" Sam asked in a small voice, feeling the devastation surge back to the surface despite himself, despite everything. "None of it? At all?"

Santana opened her mouth but nothing came out.

"Yeah okay," Sam said tersely, rising to his feet, desperate to leave.

"Sam, wait," She grabbed his wrist and stood. "The relationship wasn't real, the sex wasn't real, but the friendship was, the...emotions."

Sam didn't know how to react. He knew what she was telling him was huge for her, a major olive branch, and he wanted to accept it; he wanted to forgive her, but all he could see when he looked at her were the nights they'd spent together, the girl he'd lost his virginity too, the person he'd spent hours perfecting his impressions with in between bites of Cool Ranch Doritos and flippant conversations about hopes and dreams. All he saw was someone he loved – someone he still loved – who never even considered him a real boyfriend.

"I fucked up. I'm sorry," Santana said, wishing this conversation would be over but afraid to let it.

"I guess there's nothing else to say then," Sam answered, raising his hand to pull away.

Santana held on. There was one more thing. She wrapped her arms around him, stomach lurching at the stench of day-old sweat and campfire smoke, but blocking it out and resting her head against his chest the way she hadn't since they'd dated. She pulled back a few moments later and looked him in the eye.

"I love you, Sam," she said for the first time, now grateful that she hadn't said it back when he'd said it to her the year before. "I always will."

"Yeah okay," Sam said again, this time completely differently; this time with his voice breaking and his eyes stinging. He sobbed once and reached for her again, pulling her into another tight hug. "I love you too," he whispered.

-000-

As Rory walked back into his room at the Pierces after his shower, having already changed into a t-shirt and a pair of shorts while still in the bathroom, he found his cell phone ringing. He quickly patted his hands dry with the towel that was still around his neck and hurried over to the bed, where he'd left the device before his shower. His stomach dropped and his heart skipped a beat as he read the display: Seamus.

He hadn't spoken to his brother since that day at the hospital two months prior when he'd been visiting Dave Karofsky, not since Seamus had found out about his sexuality and announced his intent to tell their parents. Rory had managed to silence him for the time being by threatening to expose Seamus' own dirty secrets, but given his brother's impulsivity and quick temper he wasn't sure how long that would keep him quiet.

More than anything, however, Rory felt a crushing sadness knowing that his little brother, whom he truly did like and care about in spite of their tumultuous relationship, was disgusted by him and would probably never look at him the same way again.

"Hello," Rory said in a clipped voice, finding it difficult to get even the short word out as all his anxiety and sadness came bubbling to the surface.

"I told Mam and Pap you're a fairy," Seamus said, a gleeful lilt in his voice.

Rory gasped and sunk onto the bed, terror and nausea crashing over him. His life was over. He'd be disowned if he were lucky. If he wasn't lucky his life would become a perpetual nightmare. He be shunned by his family and church, subjected to conversion therapy, and endure homophobic tirades and verbal abuse at every turn. He wasn't sure if he'd be physically safe or not. His pap wasn't abusive, but he did believe in physical discipline, and Rory had no idea whether the man would think that approach would work for homosexuality or not. Either way he knew there was no way he'd be allowed to come back to America next year and he felt himself being swallowed up by dread at what that would mean for his relationship with Sam. He knew without a doubt that Sam wouldn't just break up with him or abandon him, but how could they possibly overcome this?

Just as the tears started to form in Rory's eyes and his breathing became shallow, he heard a burst of raucous laughter on the other end of the phone.

"Ye' are freaking out! I can 'ear ye' heart racing from all the way over 'ere – and not through the phone either, from clean across the Atlantic!"

"Shh-Seamus...I-ye'...why..." Rory huffed frantically as he tried to get enough air in his lungs to form a complete sentence but couldn't.

"I didn't really tell 'em ye' eejit," Seamus said, also finding it difficult to breathe as his whole body shook with laughter. "I was just winding ye' up."

"Wh-WHAT?!"

"That was great craic!" Seamus declared, delighted with himself.

"Ye' little shit!" Rory yelled, unsure at first whether he was more furious or relieved, but quickly settling on relieved.

"Now, now, Rory. Mind ye' lip, or I will tell 'em."

Rory took a few deep, calming breaths as he struggled to get his temper and emotions back under control, knowing he had to be mindful of Seamus' threat.

"I'm on suspension from school. Pap grounded me too," Seamus said after a little while.

"Couldn't 'ave 'appened t'a better person," Rory remarked.

"Poofter!" Seamus snapped with less vitriol than he'd intended. He supposed Rory deserved to get a jab in too after the epic prank he'd pulled on him. "That's why I'm wasting me time with ye'. Pap took me phone, but if he catches me he'll be less mad if I'm on with ye'."

Rory nodded to himself. Their pap always put their phones in the top drawer of his desk, basically daring them to use them when they'd lost phone privileges. Seamus would certainly get punished if he were caught, but probably not as severely if he called Rory or another family member.

"So why'd ye' get suspended?" Rory asked.

"Fighting."

"I'm stunned."

Seamus laughed. "I kicked Brendan and Luke's arses."

"Isn't Brendan ye' best mate?" Rory asked.

"Yeah, that's why it was so fun fighting him." Seamus chuckled again. "They were hassling Patrick Dugan."

"Ah," Rory said noncommittally. He didn't recognize the name, but was pleased to hear that at least if his brother was going to be fighting – and he was – that he'd decided to even the odds instead of ganging up on someone with his friends.

"Yeah, Dugan came out as queer the other week," Seamus said with feigned nonchalance, trying to play the comment off as a random piece of information even though it was the main reason he'd decided to call his brother.

Rory's stomach lurched again in shock only to quickly be replaced by a sort of quivering happiness. "Ye' were fighting ye' best mate t'protect someone gay?"

"Fuck ye'!" Seamus snarled, his cheeks burning. "I just felt like 'aving a brawl."

"Seam, I...that just means so much. I–"

"Rory," Seamus cut in, his voice rough with warning. "Leave it."

"Right," Rory answered, still grinning but more than happy to abort the uncomfortable sentimental declaration he'd been trying to make.

They chatted for a few more minutes about home and family stuff before Seamus announced that he was going to hang up. There was an awkward pause as Rory tried to figure out what to say and Seamus seemed to be waiting.

"Seam, thanks again...for...calling."

"Yeah sure," Seamus said quietly. "I'm not going t'quit calling me brother just 'cause he's...in America."

-000-

Sam knelt by his gym locker, clearing it out after having just finished his final swim practice of the year. Today was Wednesday and the team had one more swim meet the following Friday, then it was all over. Sam still wasn't sure what to make of his brief swimming career. On the one hand shortly after he'd been outed, his teammates had tried unsuccessfully to get Coach Roz to throw him off the team. When that hadn't worked and he'd been benched for several weeks due to his broken fingers, they'd tried to make him quit the team by shunning him. Lately though...

"What do you think, Trouty?"

His task finished, Sam slammed his gym locker shut for the last time and turned to face the speaker, finding himself at eye level with a speedo-clad crotch. Billy Wilks, one of his teammates who still hadn't gotten around to changing after practice, was towering over him.

"About what?" Sam asked, quickly standing up to avoid speaking into Billy's barely covered dick.

"This," Billy answered, slowly gesturing up and down to indicate his smooth, lean body.

"Uhh..." Sam felt his stomach knot as he involuntarily checked out the other swimmer. A lot had changed in the months since he'd joined the swim team, particularly his awareness and interest in his teammates' bodies. He now realized that the capacity to appreciate the male form in this way had been there all along, lurking dormant beneath the surface. However, now that he was decidedly more attuned to this aspect of his sexuality, he found locker rooms quite a bit more fraught than they had been.

Most of the time changing and showering with his team was not a sexual experience. He kept his mind and attention occupied and fully immersed himself in the context of athletics and sportsmanship. Most of the time he didn't think about his teammates in an erotic way at all. Nevertheless, he often found himself pointedly not looking at them, maintaining a little too much eye contact or simply looking past them when he talked. In essence he had gone from not thinking about it at all to actively thinking about not thinking about it.

The reality, however, was that as homophobic and all around awful as his team's initial reaction to the revelation of his sexuality had been, they had had at least a small point. If Sam were honest with himself he kind of did want to check them out and the barely-dressed, constant semi-nudity of the sport didn't exactly help. He legitimately had no interest in actually doing anything sexual with any of them, but the simple, objective truth was that they were all quite well built and some of them were downright hot.

"So, you think the chicks are gonna be all over this come summer or what?" Billy asked again, smirking at Sam.

"No one's interested in your flabby ass, Jet," Connor Stevens teased his teammate, using his water-themed nickname. "Check this out, Trouty." Connor flexed his chest and ran a hand over his lean, rippling stomach, then turned back to Billy and rolled his eyes. "You're gonna be lucky if any girls even notice you're still alive once I take my shirt off."

"Fuck you, Tide!" Billy growled, shoving Connor and getting a shove back in response. Soon they were flailing around the locker room, wrestling with each other and getting laughs and encouragement from the other guys. Sam knew they weren't actually going to hurt each other and that neither swimmer was truly mad. They were good friends who liked hassling each other.

Since he didn't feel compelled to separate the tussling pair, Sam allowed himself just a few moments to enjoy the unintentionally erotic show they were putting on before quietly leaving, grateful that he was spared from having to navigate the treacherous waters of actually weighing in on their bodies. Nevertheless, he was pleased that they were comfortable enough with him again to even ask. Sam had come a long way in a few months, but so had the team. Maybe Burt had been right all along; maybe the battle of homophobia in sports was not only worth fighting but even winnable.

-000-

Sam stared intently at the clock in the school's hall, the seconds ticking by at an agonizingly slow pace. 3:29 and 40 seconds, 41 seconds, 42 seconds. His stomach knotted with anticipation. It felt like it had been the best week of his life, and although Sam had to admit that rationally that was probably an exaggeration, he was quite sure that it felt that way and by Sam's logic that made it true in a manner of speaking. 53 seconds! He was about to get to spend a very special afternoon with Rory.

He had it all planned out. They would go to the park, to "their place" in the gazebo on the lake. Sam would serenade Rory with the song he had written for them when he first asked him to be his boyfriend and they would relive their first kiss. 58 seconds! Sam swallowed and tried to keep his excitement in check as he heard the bell at last signaling their freedom.

And there he was – Rory, walking down the hallway with his breathtaking smile pointing straight at Sam, electric blue eyes sparkling with happiness.

Rory's heart swelled as he saw the way Sam was looking at him. Everything felt so right. Sam wasn't just his boyfriend; he was his best friend, and he looked so happy. Rory was happy too, more happy than he had ever been in his life. He felt warm, full feeling as he marveled at how intensely aware he was of this moment. It felt like everything was happening at half speed. It was just like in those cheesy love movies Sam liked so much when the couple run to each other at the end in slow motion.

As Sam got within a foot of Rory, they both stop and smiled at each other. Rory opened his mouth to speak, but Sam beat him to it.

"There you are, babe. You ready?" Sam asked, wrapping his arms around Rory's waist and nuzzling their foreheads together.

"I've never been more ready," Rory answered before leaning in for a kiss.

When they parted, Sam laced his fingers together with Rory's and looked around the hallway, vigilant for any sign of danger or hostility. He found none. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them and the few people whose eye he did catch simply gave him a casual nod or an unconcerned smile.

Sam kept his arm around Rory as they walked together out of the school. He felt a glow inside as he discreetly observed Rory out of the corner of his eye. Rory didn't look afraid or ashamed of their relationship; he looked confident and proud.

"Okay, now do John Wayne greeting Han Solo," Rory requested fifteen minutes later as the car pulled into the gravel lot at the park and Sam turned off the ignition.

Sam's face lit up before he got very serious and drawled out, "Hey there, space pilgrim."

"Oh god, Sam! That's awesome," Rory said with a chuckle.

"You're awesome," Sam said with just enough playfulness in his voice for Rory to pick up on the joke.

"Ye'r face is awesome," he responded on cue before pressing a quick kiss to Sam's lips.

"Stay right there," Sam said with a grin as they pulled apart.

Rory sat patiently in the passenger seat as Sam went around the car and opened his door. He held out his hand for him, green eyes shining.

"Thank ye', Sam," Rory said as he accepted the gesture and let Sam help him out of the car.

Sam retrieved his guitar from the backseat and then the couple began a leisurely stroll through the park. They held hands and chatted contentedly as they walked, remarking on the way the trees had filled in and the flowers had blossomed since their last time here. The park had been lovely in the winter, but it was like an idyllic paradise now in the spring.

As they reached the small lake in the park's center they found a family of ducks standing along its shore. The mother duck looked alarmed as they approached and quickly ushered the little ducklings into the water with a series of urgent quacks. Rory giggled as Sam assured the birds that they meant them no harm, even resorting to a Daffy Duck impersonation to drive home his point.

"We need to bring some bread next time we come," Sam said, eager to win the animals over.

"Okay," Rory answered, already looking forward to it.

"We can't forget," Sam said earnestly.

"We'll remember, Sammy" Rory assured him before pulling out his phone. "Let's take a picture with them."

Rory held the phone out with one hand and turned around, backing into Sam's arms, angling the lens so that the lake and the ducks were visible in the background. After taking a few more shots with Sam's phone they finally stepped onto the nearby wooden bridge that led out onto the gazebo.

As they entered the structure another young couple was just leaving. The girl noticed their joined hands and gave them a warm smile. The guy patted Rory's shoulder as he walked by them.

"Wow," Rory said, unexpectedly choking up at the casual acceptance.

Sam grinned and sat down, pulling Rory down with him. "It's a brand new day," he said with a sly smile as he positioned his guitar in his arms.

Rory chuckled and clapped his hands together, delighted with the timing of Sam's line and already elated before Sam had even begun singing.

"It's a brand new day, and I couldn't help but say

That I just saw you, for the first time.

It's a brand new day, and I just love the way

I heard your voice, for the first time.

The way you laugh, the way you smile

The way you sing, the way you sound

The way you touch me, the way it feels

It's all so new, it's all so real.

It's a brand new day, and I just couldn't help but say

That I need you, that I want you.

It's a brand new day, and I just love the way

I saw you for the first time.

Friends forever, friends till the end

Whether it breaks, or whether it bends

I see you now, I know it's true

It's all special, it's all so you.

It's a brand new day, and I just had to say

I want to spend it with you, only you.

It's a brand new day, and I just had to say

I want to end it with you, only you.

It's a brand new day, and I love the way

It all suddenly became, for you. Only you."

Rory sat on the cool wooden floor staring at Sam, every bit as transfixed as he had been the first time Sam had sung him the song. He savored every beautiful, heartfelt word his boyfriend lavished on him in that powerful, melodic voice of his that made Rory week in the knees. It felt just like it had before, so full of hope and promise. When the song came to a close, Rory simply continued to stare at Sam with a quiet intensity.

Sam mirrored Rory's quiet, intense gaze with one of his own. After a few moments, he set his guitar aside and then very slowly leaned forward, placing his right hand around Rory's left wrist where he leaned on it, gently supporting his weight. Then Sam moved his left hand to Rory's right shoulder, bracing himself as he shifted onto his knees.

"I think ye' owe me a kiss, Sam," Rory said softly, his breath tickling the other boy's lips.

"I think I owe you more than that, Rors," Sam whispered before surging forward and connecting their mouths.

Time stopped for Rory and the world melted away. All that existed in that moment were his lips and Sam's. There weren't any fears about the future, no anxiety about his parents' finding out his secret, no worries about what a summer apart would mean for their relationship. The only thing he could think about, the only thing he could feel in that moment was Sam.

They may have kissed for a couple of minutes or maybe for an hour. Neither really knew. And though tongues, and hands, and eventually several other body parts were gradually incorporated into the proceedings there was no frenzied desperation, no underlying urgency. They had all the time in the world. The school year may have been drawing to a close and they both knew that soon Rory would have to leave for Ireland, but it didn't matter. He wasn't going anywhere, not really.

"We'll always be together, Rors," Sam promised when at last the kiss ended.

"I know that, Sammy," Rory said simply. And he did.

-The End-