Trouty Mouth and the Leprechaun
Author's Notes: Sorry it has taken so long for this chapter. Aside from writer's block and The Purge, I have been working on other projects as well (A Glee/True Blood crossover) and just been plain lazy.
Beta Credit: Ragnarok45
Recap: Sam started his new job, and Rory seems to have acquired a 'mentor' status for Mitchell. Ginny tried to help Rory with suggestions for his audition, and on the way home, Sam found out his aunt passed away, giving him nightmares about cancer killing his friends and that's what you missed on Glee!
Episode 36: Goodbye
Since coming back from his day trip with his family, he hadn't said much at all. It wasn't because he was upset with Rory, or with anyone really, he was just sad, and Sam's way of dealing with sadness was to just keep to himself. Considering the fact that Rory hadn't really seen much of this side of Sam, he began to become concerned.
"Sammy?" Rory began, snuggling up in his arms on the couch, the TV playing a rerun of some show about a group of people stranded on an island, using coconuts as dishware and pineapples as walkie talkies.
"Hmm?" Sam replied quietly. He sounded tired, despite the fact he had slept in until ten.
"I don't want ye' to think I don't care, but in case ye' were wonderin', I 'aven't asked a bunch of questions because I can see how much it upsets ye'. I just wanted ye' to know that. Ye' don't 'ave to talk about it if ye' don't want to, but…" Rory paused a moment, wanting to choose his words carefully. "Will ye' tell me about ye'r aunt? Ye' seem so upset, so she must 'ave been very special to ye'."
Neither boy spoke for a couple of minutes, Rory figuring Sam was exercising his right to not discuss it, but just as the episode ended and the credits began to roll, the elder teen reached his hand down to the floor, picked up the remote, and muted the television.
"We used to be real close. When I was a kid, she watched me all the time while mom and dad were at work. She'd take me places like the zoo, the playground, the water park," Sam told him wistfully. "Then she moved, and we moved, and Stacy and Stevie were born, and we just kinda lost touch for a while. We saw her a couple times a year maybe, but… I could have made more effort to see her."
Rory felt a few tears dribble onto his cheek from Sam's face. He shifted himself so that he could brush the tears from Sam's eyes, and kiss him tenderly, one hand gently stroking his chest. "She sounds like a wonderful person. Like ye' had a lot o' fun with her. I bet it made her very happy to be with ye' all that time." He couldn't think of much to say that didn't sound depressing, and he started to wonder if he should even have asked at all, but when he felt Sam squeeze him—moving to wrap his arms around him—he was glad he did.
"Yeah, I just wish I had seen her more in the past few years. Especially since she had gotten cancer. Oh God, she fought so hard," the Evans boy continued on. "She beat it, but it came back. It came back really bad. Fast. And…"
The Irish teen turned his head and reached up to place a finger on Sam's lips. "Shh… it's okay. I bet she doesn't feel any kind of regrets. I bet she was happy just knowing ye' were out there being a happy teenager."
Sam didn't say anything, just squeezed the boy tighter for comfort. He sniffled, blinking back more tears, then eased up. "Yeah. She's happy now, though. She's with God, where she belongs," he said confidently, a very slight smile pulling on his lips. He reached down and fingered the remote, allowing the volume to rejoin them. This time the rerun was about a talking horse. In an attempt to lighten the mood a little, Sam informed his young boyfriend that the horse was given peanut butter to make it look like it was talking. The random piece of trivia made the Irishman laugh, both at the factoid and that his boyfriend even knew it in the first place. However, at the mention of peanut butter, the younger teen had gotten a glint in his eye and zipped off to the kitchen, Sam fully aware of what the boy would return with. Sure enough, five minutes later, Rory returned to his position in Sam's arms, holding a plateful of peanut butter crackers and a grin a mile wide.
-ooo-
Sam got up early Sunday morning to leave for the funeral. It was at one, and with a several hour drive ahead of him, he needed to get going early. What's more, he needed to stop by his former home to pick up his younger brother: Stevie had been dying for some time with his big brother, and the only way to get some one on one time was to agree to let Stacy have the older blonde to herself on the ride back home. The adults weren't thrilled with the idea of having the kids along at all-the idea of exposing the youths to such a sad event not settling well with Mr. and Mrs. Evans, but getting a sitter for three days was a bigger challenge than they felt like dealing with on top of everything else. Rory even offered to watch them, but Sam nixed that idea before he could even propose it to his parents. One of the agreements they had made was that Rory not miss out on school, and Sam was determined to make it apparent that he wasn't allowing him to skip out, even in the current situation.
"Are ye' sure ye' don't want me to come with ye'?" Rory asked for the third time as he fingered the necktie he'd chosen for Sam to wear to the funeral. Sam sighed, annoyed. "Okay, I'm sorry," the boy apologized, picking up the hint. Sam took the black tie and pulled it around his neck, adjusting it in the bathroom mirror. Rory continued to watch him from the lid of the toilet where he was sitting.
"I'll text you when I get there," the elder said flatly. "Fuck, I don't wanna do this," he finally admitted. He leaned on the sink, hanging his head and grumbling. Rory stood up, putting his hand on Sam's back.
"It's gonna be okay, Sammy. Ye' can do this. Mom, Dad, Stacy, Stevie, they're all gonna be with ye'. Ye' won't be alone." He could feel his boyfriend tremble slightly under his hand. He swallowed back his own stresses, knowing he needed to stay strong and supportive. If Sam saw him upset, it would only put more pressure on him.
Gathering himself up, Sam stood up, feigned a smile in the mirror, and stepped through the bedroom and to the kitchen. Rory had set out a glass of juice and a pop tart for him so he had a little nourishment before he left. He drank half the juice, took three bites out of the pastry, and sighed yet again. He didn't notice that Rory had followed him and was watching him silently.
"Sammy… be safe on ye'r drive. Try to enjoy the time with Stevie and Stacy. I know they miss their big brother. They need something to cheer them up, and maybe it'll get ye'r mind off of things, cheer ye' up too." Rory offered, breaking the tension.
"They miss you too, ya know," Sam replied gently. It was the first time all morning he showed any emotion outside of annoyance or despair. He turned from the counter and closed the distance from his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around him. "We gotta spend more time with them after I get back."
The younger teenager nodded in agreement, his hair tickling Sam's cheek. "What are you gonna do while I'm gone?" the blonde inquired as he released Rory from his arms.
"Probably hang out with Blaine. Maybe Tina, too. I think she's starting to get a case of the lonelies," Rory replied. "I'll be fine. And I won't skip school. I promise." He grinned, putting his hand over his heart as a symbol of honesty.
Sam ruffled his boyfriend's hair and gave the first genuine smile he had in a few days. He kissed him, and then walked past him toward the door where his overnight bag was waiting for him.
"I better get going. Still need to pick up the wild child," Sam said, attempting a joke to lighten his mood. At least Stevie would bring some cheer to him – his younger brother was a big clown with an excitable personality; there was no way Sam could be sad around him. "I love you."
"I love ye', too," the Irishman replied, kissing him one more time and walking him to the door, closing it behind the blonde once he'd disappeared down the hall. Rory sighed, walked back to the kitchen, and finished Sam's juice and the rest of the pop tart. It was a little after seven in the morning, but he was too awake to go back to sleep. Having finished the rest of his boyfriend's breakfast, he trudged into the living room and plopped down on the couch, picking up the remote from the cushion. The only things on TV were some more reruns of the island show and the horse show, so he settled in and watched until he fell back asleep.
-ooo-
I do not want to do this, Sam sighed, pulling into the driveway of his parents' house. He still had a few hours to go before even arriving at his aunt's and he was already dreading it. All of her side of the family would be there, many of which he didn't know very well, and that always made him a little uncomfortable. Thankfully, Michelle would be there, and she had a knack for cheering him up.
Before he could even turn the truck off, Stevie came dashing out of the house, the door slamming shut behind him, his navy blue suitcase dragging behind him. "Sammy!" he cried out. By then, Sam had unbuckled his seat belt, opened the door, and hopped out of the truck. Stevie dropped his suitcase and tackled his big brother, throwing his arms around him.
"I'm glad to see you, too, buddy," Sam smiled at his brother. It was right then that he realized just how much he missed seeing them every day. They got along quite well – more than most siblings—and it was quite a change for all three of them. A change that he hadn't taken notice of quite as much since he had been busy with work, and had Rory to focus on.
"I got so much to tell you about, Sammy! We're gonna have so much fun on the way!" the small blonde exclaimed happily.
"Okay, well go ahead and get in the truck, I'm gonna say hi to Stacy, too. She's riding with mom and dad on the way down," Sam explained. "Got everything you need out of your bag for now?"
Stevie reached down into his bag, feeling around the outside pocket, and pulled out a small case. It was his 3DS. "All ready! Hurry up, Sammy!" the boy urged. Sam rounded the truck and opened the passenger door, waited for the small boy to climb inside. He reached over and helped him with his seat belt and then shut the door.
Sam sighed and trudged up to the front door. He didn't bother knocking – his father was already on his way out. "Hey, dad," he said quietly. His dad greeted him back and put his arms around him in a fatherly embrace. "How are you doing?"
"I'm okay, about as can be expected, I guess," his father answered glumly. He wasn't his normal, joking self, making wisecracks and grinning constantly. It had been his sister who passed. The look on his face was heartbreaking.
"It's gonna be okay, dad. We just have to make it through today. It's the hardest part. Or at least that's what everyone says," Sam said, attempting comfort. His voice was just as glum, sighs coming after every other sentence. The two men stood in awkward silence, interrupted only by Stacy's squeals of excitement.
"Sammy! Sammy!" she cried, jumping up into his arms. She nuzzled her head in his chest lovingly. "I miss you so much Sammy! You never come see us!" She was laying the guilt on thicker than a Catholic priest.
"I know, I'm sorry. I promise once we get back, I'll bring Rory over and we'll visit more often, okay?" he said to her, hugging her back. "You get to ride with me all the way home though, right?"
"Right!" she agreed, leaning back and poking her finger in his chest. "And no getting out of it!" Sam smiled at his little sister. She still had her spunky personality. He eased her back on her feet and ruffled her hair.
"I guess I better get going. I'm pretty sure Stevie is gonna want to stop for 'you know what' on the way out," Sam said quietly to his father, referring to the large stuffed pretzels from the Wawa near the interstate.
His father chuckled lightly. "Probably so. We'll see you there, son. Drive safe, and don't let the squirt drive you too crazy." Before Sam could reply, his mother emerged from the door, her face lighting up upon spotting her firstborn.
"Sam, you look so handsome," she said, throwing open her arms for a hug.
"Thanks, mom. You look beautiful," he replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek and leaning in to her arms. "I was just getting ready to leave."
"And not say hello to your mother first? Shame on you," she teased. He could tell she was trying to keep in good spirits as well. Sam just gave her a mischievous grin. "Go on, you boys get out of here. You need a head start, Stevie wants his p-r-e-t-z-e-l." They continually tried to keep from Stacy the fact that Stevie would be getting one of their favorite treats and she wouldn't since she had a habit of tummy troubles if she ate on a car trip. The small girl looked up and scowled at her mother, the secret not lost on her.
Sam knelt down in front of her. "Tell you what. I'll pick up an extra one just for you, and when we get there you'll have something special waiting for you," he promised. He knew his little sister wasn't as clueless as his parents pretended. She squealed in delight and launched herself at him, hugging him again.
"Alright guys, see you there," Sam said, standing and walking back toward the truck, waving at them. Stevie was still strapped inside, waving his arms wildly at his family. They waved back and watched as Sam got back into the vehicle, waved one more time, and strapped himself in, turned on the truck, and backed out.
"Alright buddy, let's get this show on the road," Sam said, giving his brother a grin. "First stop, Wawa for your pretzel."
"Awwww yeah!" Stevie cried excitedly. He started out the window, anxiously awaiting the familiar gas station while babbling on to Sam about his latest achievements at school. The ride was going to be a long one, but Stevie would make sure he wasn't bored.
-ooo-
Rory woke up a couple of hours later, groggy from having passed out on the couch. He was still in a tee shirt and boxers, and quickly noticed that he had something he needed to attend to.
The boys hadn't had sex in over a week, Sam not being in the mood and Rory not even thinking about initiating it when he knew Sam was in such despair. Mourning was not the appropriate time to proposition someone for sex, even if that someone happened to be his loving boyfriend. At least now that he was alone for a couple of days, he wouldn't feel guilty about watching a little adult entertainment and tending to himself. Strangely enough, if Sam were home, he felt awkward about watching porn. Sam should be more than enough to turn him on, but of course if he wasn't around, then porn was perfectly okay to get him going.
Making his decision, he padded into their bedroom, where the desk and computer were located. He had been thinking about suggesting they move the desk into the second bedroom and turn it into some sort of recreation room: a place for Sam to play his guitar, or Rory to do his homework, and so forth. When they could afford it, they could buy sound absorbing panels to tape onto the walls to help with the noise. Maybe if they had another table of some sort, Sam would take up his model making again.
Putting the mundane things out of his mind, he stripped off his tee and boxers, dropping them to the floor. He sat down on the chair, which was cold to his bare butt, and brought the computer out of sleep mode. He didn't have anything saved on the hard drive, and didn't feel like waiting around for something to download, so he opted for X-Tube, a site for amateurs to upload videos of themselves and share them with their fellow pervs.
Rory started to click around, navigating to the section for gay men. Right on the main page was a random selection of videos. One of them caught his attention right away. It showed a screenshot of two guys around Sam's age. One of them looked to be restrained somehow to the bed, a blindfold over his eyes. The other boy was holding something, but Rory couldn't tell what it was. Curiosity overtook him and he clicked on it.
A couple of minutes later, the video had buffered and loaded up, ready to view. He pushed 'Play' and silently watched the events on the screen. One of the boys was blonde and well built, the other brunette and slim. The brunette was standing in front of the blonde, who was reaching up and tying a black cloth blindfold around the slimmer boy's head. He adjusted it until he was certain the boy couldn't see, and then put his hands over the boy's shoulders and pushed down, the brunette descending to his knees. The blonde demanded for him to 'Suck my cock, bitch,' and without waiting, held onto the dark haired boy's head, shoving his large erection into the waiting mouth.
The subservient guy choked a little bit, but his head was held in place until the blonde started to thrust in and out of his face vigorously. He was drooling all over himself, but the blonde was obviously loving making his smaller framed lover messy with saliva and precum. By this point, Rory had let his left hand trail down to his crotch, idly playing with his hardening organ.
The blonde finally stopped thrusting into the other's mouth, pulling his erection out and smacking the boy in the face with it. The gesture was actually funnier than it was arousing, but it lasted only a moment as the muscled guy forced the blindfolded guy onto his feet and shoved him roughly backwards onto the bed. The blonde approached him and quickly turned the boy over, reaching down to spread the smooth, firm cheeks. Without waiting for any kind of response, the blonde's face dove right between the two globes, flicking his tongue in and out of the pink hole.
The brunette was writhing about, mewling in pleasure as he ground his dick into the bed, with his ass being orally assaulted from above him. This went on for several minutes, the blonde becoming more and more aggressive as the other boy cried out, 'Eat me, sir, eat me, eat me!' Rory rolled his eyes, wishing the guy would shut up – cornball porn talk was always annoying, and the primary reason why he preferred amateur videos was its absence—well, its near-absence, apparently.
Rory had moved from idly fiddling with himself to actually gripping his dick and slowly sliding up and down, running his thumb over the head as he stroked. There was already a drop of precum forming, making it nice and slick for his thumb. The sensations made his legs tingle slightly.
When the bigger man was finished with his 'work' he roughly repositioned his boytoy until he was spread eagle on the bed. The man took several pieces of rope and tied each limb to a bedpost. He then took what looked like a balled up pair of underwear and shoved it into the smaller man's mouth, gagging him.
The blonde crouched down so his face was hovering over the other's cock, teasing it by licking just the very tip. He spent a good ten minutes teasing his partner, over and over, the bound boy mewling through the gag. When the blonde finally decided enough was enough, he plunged his face down onto the cock throbbing in front of him, sending the smaller boy into hysterics of pleasure.
As he continued to watch, Rory's cock throbbed more and more, the stroking of his hand speeding up. He reached down with his other hand and started to tug on his balls, massaging them between his fingers. He didn't notice the faint moans escaping his lips as his eyes stayed mesmerized on the screen.
The two boys had finally moved on, the smaller still tied to the bed by his arms, but the bigger, blonde boy having untied his legs and pushed them up against the other's chest, exposing his opening. The bigger man had knelt down on his stomach and was licking the pink pucker, slathering it with spit. Rory didn't see the actual point of penetration as he had closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair, giving in to the feelings in his crotch. He sped up, stroking with reckless abandon. When he opened his eyes again, the two men onscreen were fucking crazily, the blonde taking no mercy on the brunette. He was thrusting into him so hard that the boy's head was hitting the headboard and the headboard against the wall, and between blinks of his eyes, Rory saw the small boy get the cum fucked right out of him without either person touching his organ. Thick ropes of seed splattered against the brunette's chest as the blonde reached forward and yanked the gag from his lover's mouth. He pulled himself out of the abused hole and leaned up and over, aiming his dick at the brunette's face and with a few quick jerks, was spraying his own seed all over the prostrate boy's face.
Rory's orgasm came just as the second man was experiencing his own, Rory's balls tensing up and exploding out through his head. He breathed a sigh of relief, biting his bottom lip as his head swam. By the time he had gotten his faculties back about him, the video had ended. He wiped the seed from his fingers onto his chest, and reached for the mouse. He navigated the menu until he found the selection to save the video to his hard drive.
I wonder if Sammy would try that with me. Not the crazy stuff, just tying my hands and legs to the bed. I could maybe tolerate the gagging, but only if it was his boxers. But I want him to see this, see what he thinks.
A sly grin passed the teen's face as he thought about Sam sitting at the desk. His eyes glued to the screen, touching himself and asking if he could tie Rory up. Yes, this was definitely something to propose to his boyfriend, but after he was feeling better.
"Yuck. I need a shower. And I'm hungry. I wonder if Blaine wants to get up for lunch," the teen muttered to himself. He quickly sent Blaine a text, inquiring if he cared to join him for lunch. A minute later, a reply came across the screen.
Sure. Let's invite Tina too. She's having Mike withdrawals.
Rory smiled. Poor Tina, he had overlooked her loneliness and hadn't made much effort to hang out aside from seeing her at the cafeteria.
Good idea. Give her a ring, I need a shower.
Not even a full minute later he got Blaine's reply.
Gotcha. Be at your place in 30
A half hour was plenty of time to shower and clean up. He gave the room a cursory glance to make sure nothing was left out that his friends needn't see – there wasn't.
Door unlocked. See you then. Hugs
Double checking to make sure the website was closed and the video clip was filed away in a movie folder, he padded into the bathroom for a quick freshening up before his friends arrived.
-ooo-
Like clockwork, a half hour later Blaine was politely knocking on the door, Tina at his side. Rory opened the door, smiling brightly at the sight of the duo.
"I left the door unlocked, ye' could just come in," Rory said, closing the door after them as they walked inside.
"I know, it's just polite to knock first," Blaine countered with a shrug. And I don't want to catch you with your pants down…again… and again, he added mentally.
"Hey Tina. It's nice to see ye'," Rory said, leaning forward to hug the senior girl.
"Good to see you, too, Rory," she replied. "We haven't hung out in a long time." She began to pace through the home, looking around. "It looks great in here. Nice and cozy." While it was indeed cozy, it was nothing spectacular. It was clean, the couch had been moved into place against the wall, and everything else the boys had received from the housewarming was put up; however, there wasn't exactly much for decoration.
"Thanks. We 'aven't gotten anything to put on the walls or anything, but we 'aven't really looked, either. I don't think we're good at that stuff anyway," Rory replied.
Tina and Blaine exchanged excited glances. "Well, we can definitely amend that, right Blaine?" she asked, nodding enthusiastically. "We'll get lunch first, and then go shopping. Between the two of us, we can find you something to put up on the walls."
The youngest teen shrugged. "Okay. I don't 'ave much money though. I spent most o' mine."
"That's okay. We don't need a lot. In fact, it might be cheaper to make something to put up," Tina replied. "It can be more fun, too. A whole project!"
"Sounds like we know what we're doing today," Blaine nodded. "Let's go eat first. I'm hungry. You guys good for some sushi?"
"Sue she?" Rory asked skeptically. "But what does Sue 'ave to do with food?"
Tina and Blaine both giggled. "Not 'sue she'. Sushi. It's Japanese fish and rice rolls," Blaine explained. Rory didn't say anything, he merely grinned sheepishly.
"You've never tried it I take it," Tina observed. "Well, we're gonna change that today. Sushi it is"
The three teens decided to try the sushi bar in the mall, walking outside, locking up, and hopping into Blaine's SUV.
-ooo-
Stevie had finished the last of his pretzel, licking his sticky fingers clean of cream cheese. "Don't get any of that on the seat, buddy. Use those wipes in the glove box," Sam instructed gently.
"Okay, Sammy," Stevie replied, reaching forward and unlatching the box. He reached inside for the container of hand wipes and popped it open. "Sammy, how come Mr. Rory didn't come with you?"
Sam had been expecting this question to pop up sooner or later. "Because he has school, and…"
"But mom and dad let me miss school. Why can't he? It's only for a couple days," the young boy argued.
"Well, uh, I guess because he isn't family," Sam finally stated. Stevie didn't approve of that answer one bit.
"He is so!" Stevie shouted unexpectedly. "Mr. Rory is too part of the family! He's my big brother, too!" The child had gone from care free and happy to quite agitated within the space of a breath, his small hands shaking in anger. "He is too, Sammy! He is…"
Sam sighed. "I'm sorry buddy, I didn't mean it that way," he apologized. "I just meant that… he isn't related to the extended family the way he is to us. It's different. To the rest of the family, it might seem inappropriate for him to be there, and he didn't know Aunt Lily."
The young boy started to calm down, mulling it over. "Don't ever say Mr. Rory isn't family again, Sammy. If you do, I'll…. I'll beat you up good." His threat wasn't to be taken lightly. The look of seriousness on his face told Sam that he was not to be tempted.
The elder reached over with his right arm and ruffled Stevie's hair. "I'm sorry, buddy, Really. I just said it wrong. Rory is just as much part of our family as you and me, okay?" He took his eyes from the road long enough to gaze at the boy and take in his features. Stevie was giving this really deep thought, as if he might not trust that his older brother was being honest with him.
"You can have my pretzel if you want. I don't want you to be mad at me," Sam offered. He watched the boy out of the corner of his eye, Stevie's mouth moving around in a thoughtful manner. "It's all yours if you won't be mad at me anymore…" Sam urged. He pushed the bag with the soft pretzel toward his brother.
Deciding that being mad wasn't worth the loss of a pretzel, the young boy snatched up the bag and took out one of the remaining two treats. The other was his sister's, and he knew full well that if she didn't have one waiting for her, there would be hell to pay, and Stacy was not one to anger.
"Forgive me?"
Stevie stopped chewing long enough to nod his head and smile at his older brother. Sam held out his hand and the boy tore off a small piece of his treat and placed it in the teen's palm. Sam put it to his mouth and scarfed it down, then set his hand back down. This time, instead of a piece of food, he was met with a loud smack as his brother gave him a 'low five'. They both laughed as Sam ruffled the boy's hair again. The rest of the trip was filled with jokes, stories, and singing; though it was obvious Stevie wasn't following his brother's footsteps in terms of vocal talent.
-ooo-
Tina, Blaine, and Rory sat at the sushi bar, the chef working away at preparing orders. Behind the clear guard between the bar and the work area, they could see various cuts of raw fish, octopus, squid, shrimp, and a multitude of spices and seasonings.
"What do I order?" Rory asked skeptically, looking over the names on the slip of paper in front of him. "It all sounds the same. A bunch of fish wrapped in seaweed."
"Oh trust me, it's not. It's all different. Here, let me see your sheet, I'll find you something good," Tina said. Rory shrugged and handed her the piece of paper and watched as she quickly perused the selections, marking three of them with her pencil. "We'll each order different stuff and share, then we can try a bunch of stuff."
Blaine nodded, filling out his own sheet. Tina slid Rory's completed sheet back to him while focusing on her own. The waitress returned a moment later with their green tea and took their order slips.
"Now here comes the best part," Tina explained. "We get to watch him make it. It's like watching the cooking channel, but cooler because it's in person, and we get to eat it."
Blaine nudged Rory gently in the side. "Don't forget, you're supposed to tip the chef, too. There's a jar at the end there, you slip your cash in there for him," he whispered. "Now just watch."
All three teens sat mesmerized at the bar, watching through the glass as the chef selected the desired cuts of seafood, chopped them into shape, and worked his fingers quickly to wrap them with seadweed and other vegetables, topping some of them off with sauces, packing others with rice, and putting small globs of green paste on the end of the plates.
The sushi chef placed the dishes on the top of the bar for the teens to take and eat. Tina immediately took hold of her chopsticks and started to arrange the food in even portions so they could each try a bit of every item they ordered.
"Start with that one," she suggested, pointing to something with her chopstick. Rory screwed up his face as he stared at it. Deciding it best to go ahead and get it over with, he picked up the chopsticks, fiddling with them until they were lodged between his fingers.
Rory couldn't get the hang of holding the chopsticks properly, eliciting giggles from his friends. Frustrated, he took one stick in each hand and was about to try and lift the sushi that way when Blaine stopped him.
"Hold it like this," he said, taking Rory's hands and placing the sticks between his fingers properly. "Don't squeeze so hard. Relax your fingers. Okay, now pinch like this..." Within a couple minutes and Blaine's assistance, Rory finally managed to pick up the piece of seafood that Tina had pointed to. He almost dropped it before it reached his mouth, but a swift movement and he stuffed it into his mouth. Both of his friends were staring at him, waiting anxiously for some kind of reaction.
Seconds ticked by as Rory slowly chewed. Then swallowed. Then smiled. "That's really good," he finally said.
"I told you! Now try-" Tina began, but Rory was already selecting his next item. "No! Don't eat that all at once!" she cried as she watched in horror as her friend lifted the thick paste from his plate and brought it to his lips.
Blaine saved Rory from himself and grabbed his arm, pulling downward, causing the startled Irishman to drop his utensils back onto the plate. "Hey, what're ye' doing?" He asked, snatching his arm back from Blaine.
"Saving you from eating pure fire," Blaine replied with a sigh of relief. "It's called wasabi, and you don't eat it all at once. You put just a tiny bit on your sushi roll. And I do mean tiny bit. It's very hot."
"That's why there isn't very much on there. You don't need a lot. Here, put a tiny dab on that piece right there," the Asian girl instructed, pointing to what looked like a tiny wheel of rice and fish. He did was she told him, putting the tiniest dap of wasabi paste in the middle and then picking it up, placing it in his mouth.
Rory's eyes watered just a little bit, and by the time he swallowed it down, he was chugging the glass of water that the waitress had brought when she first seated them. "That's really hot!" he exclaimed.
"Now imagine eating that whole wad of paste at one time. It would be colder to just put pure hellfire on your tongue," Blaine commented. "Now try the rest of it. You don't need to eat anymore wasabi if you don't like it."
The young teen shook his head. "I think I'll pass on that. Ye' shouldn't eat something that looks like snotty paste anyway." Tina and Blaine both looked disgusted as they watched their friend pick up the next piece of sushi. Oddly enough, neither of them had any more wasabi, either.
-ooo-
Sam arrived shortly after his parents and Stacy, the young girl anxiously awaiting her doughy morsel. She wasted no time in gobbling it down, having not eaten breakfast. Stevie ran off to join his cousins near his age, Stacy hot on his heels the second she finished her pretzel.
Mr. Evans joined a small group of men near the casket, apparently discussing their task as pallbearers. Mrs. Evans had retreated to the rest of the female family members - the wives of the pallbearing men. They chatted in a hushed tone, as if speaking at normal levels in front of the dead was inappropriate.
"Hey, cuz," a feminine voice cooed into Sam's ear, an arm wrapping around his shoulders from behind. It was Michelle, her light brown hair tied up in a fancy bun, wearing a black business suit that she obviously was not comfortable in. "Damn, these shoes hurt," she complained, wiggling her feet inside her high heels.
"Hi, Michelle. Good to see you again," Sam said, turning to give her a proper hug. "How are you?" he asked.
She steadied herself on Sam's shoulder as she picked up her foot and adjusted her shoe. "I hate these things. Anyway, I'm doing alright. Not enough sleep, though. Too much schoolwork keeping me up. And then of course, poor Aunt Lily."
"Thank God I don't have to worry about school anymore," the blonde sighed. "Not unless I end up going to college someday, but I don't see that happening."
She gave him a half smile, ever the person to try and keep things in a positive light. "You never know, Sam. Hey, where's your other half?" She was looking around the room, seeking out the brunette boy she was introduced to at Thanksgiving.
"He's at home. He has school and there really isn't any reason for him to be here. I don't feel like all the questions anyway. Everybody would be asking who he is, why he's here, blah blah," Sam replied. "Besides, I don't want him to have to be around... this..." he nodded his head toward the coffin, then motioned around the room with his hand.
"Good points. I don't even wanna be here. I have stuff to get done, and really, funerals are so... morbid." Sam looked at her quizzically, not understanding why she seemed almost annoyed by the entire ordeal. She noticed his look and quickly went on to explain herself. "Think about it, Sam. Do you think she really wants everyone mulling around all depressed and crying over her? No. You know how she –was: all fun loving and silly. She would have wanted us to throw a big party in her honor, having fun and sharing memories and stories about her. Not this..." She spread her arms wide, referring to the entire room.
Sam looked thoughtful. "I guess you have a point. She wasn't into sad stuff. Even with the cancer she made jokes and tried to keep her spirits up," he agreed. For the first time since he arrived, he smiled.
"What do you say we liven this thing up a little?" Michelle asked, the look on her face full of mischief. Sam smiled back, understanding exactly what she meant.
"So which song, then?" The blonde inquired. Michelle thought a moment, scratching her head.
"I got my iPod in my purse. I'll hook it up to the loudspeaker, and the mic is already set up. Just follow my lead, alright?"
"I remember doing stuff like this as kids. We're gonna bring down the house. Just don't sing anything... inappropriate," Sam cautioned, smiling at the memories of him and Michelle breaking into song at family gatherings.
She grinned innocently. "Oh yes, we crashed funerals all the time," she joked, rolling her eyes. "Have faith, cuz. Come on, let's get the party started."
Sam prayed that his aunt was listening, and knowing that what they were about to do was out of respect for who she was.
The congregation was settling into their seats, the funeral itself starting shortly. Mrs. Evans already was sitting in a pew, Stacy and Stevie beside her, chattering quietly between themselves. "Where's Sam?" she whispered to her husband as he sat down next to her.
"I don't know. I haven't seen him since we got here. I'm sure he's just in the bathroom or something. He knows this is important, he won't disappear," her husband assured her. She still felt uneasy, feeling like something was a little off. Finally, easing her nerves, she saw her son slide into the row, sitting on the pew right next to her husband. Before she could ask where he had been, the priest called the funeral to order.
The typical funeral material took close to a half hour as the priest led prayers, told anecdotes he had been given, and a couple of Aunt Lily's closest family members gave small speeches about her.
Finally, the priest stepped back to the center, where the podium and microphone were at. "Is there anyone else in the audience who would care to speak at this time?" he asked. It was customary in most cases for people to politely stay silent, not adding more to the already lengthy service, however this time, two figures stood up.
"Sam, what are you doing?" his father hissed, tugging at his son's hand. Sam shook it off, turning to look over at Michelle, who sat in one of the pews across the room.
"Sam and I would like to take a turn, Reverend. We want to celebrate Aunt LillyLily's life with everyone," the confident young woman stated with a slight smile. She stepped out into the aisle, waiting for Sam to join her. Refusing to look toward his parents and siblings for fear of chickening out, Sam joined his cousin and the pair of them walked up to the podium.
Sam spoke first, taking his place behind the podium as the priest stepped aside. Michelle stood next to him, a certain anxious air about her. "Aunt LillyLily was well known by all of us to always be in good spirits. She was funny, always making jokes, always looking for ways to have fun. I remember as a kid, she used to love watching Michelle and I singing. She'd even sing along." He was getting a little choked up but doing his best to maintain composure. There was no way he could sing if he was too busy crying.
"We think that Aunt Lily wouldn't want everyone to be depressed about her. She was trying so hard to make people laugh, even when she was fighting cancer. She'd want us all to rejoice about her memory, not be depressed. It's a bit late to throw her a good bye party, but we want to sing one last performance for her, and hope you might want to join in," Michelle announced. The entire family was watching them, curious as to what these two young people had up their sleeves.
Mr. and Mrs. Evans were exchanging nervous glances at one another. "What is he doing? I know he's been upset about all this but he can't do something crazy," the woman said frantically. Her husband put his hand over hers and squeezed.
"It's Sam. Trust him. Michelle's a little crazy, but just have faith in them," he urged, putting his arm around her and pulling her closer to him. "Just watch."
Michelle had finished fumbling with the microphone and her iPod, changing the loudspeakers in a makeshift sound system for their performance. She pushed a button and the room began to fill with the music from The Breakfast Club, a song that everyone –knew: Don't You Forget About Me.
The family and friends of Lillian Evans listened as these two teenagers harmonized together, singing a very appropriate song—a song about remembering someone. It wasn't sad, per se, it was a mellow song, one that was beautiful to hear and brought forth memories of Lillian's earlier years.
Tears fell all around the room, but not the wracked sobs of people in depressive fits. No, they were tears of peace, a room of people coming together to try and let a woman rest who had fought so hard to keep her health, but finally was overcome.
When they finished the song, a few people began to clap, but Michelle held up her hand and slowly shook her head, silencing them. This wasn't about stealing the spotlight and earning applause. This was about rejoicing.
Without fanfare, the next song began immediately, the pair holding hands as they stood side by side, bonded by blood, bonded by their remembrance of their aunt. Another appropriate song choice, Into the Great Wide Open brought forth ideas of the woman going into the great beyond, making her journey into heaven.
Again when they were finished, Michelle held up her hands for silence as she made a quick interlude. "This last one was one of Aunt LillyLily's favorites, one that she was convinced would make ol' Sammy into a star someday."
The familiar intro music to Dream On began to play, Sam taking lead. When he got to the chorus, Michelle harmonized in, both of them singing together. When they finished, it was all anyone could do to contain themselves. The first reaction was to provide a standing ovation, but Michelle had made it clear there was to be none of that. This wasn't for them, it was for LillyLily.
"We love you, Aunt LillyLily!" both of them said at the same time. They hugged each other, tears sliding down their cheeks, big smiles on their faces.
-ooo-
Two hours after their sushi experiment, Tina, Blaine, and Rory returned to the apartment, arms full of shopping bags. They set everything on the table in the living room and began taking out the items inside.
"I sure hope Sammy won't be upset I spent more than me own share," Rory said fretfully. "I only put in a little over half of what we spent."
"Don't worry so much. If Sam didn't trust you to be smart about your money, he wouldn't have put you on his account," Blaine assured him, pulling small vials of paint from one of the bags. "Besides, once Sam gets a load of this stuff, he won't find it in him to be mad."
Tina gave Blaine an agreeable look. "He's right. Once Sam sees this, he won't care what you spent." She put the last of the supplies on the table and cleared away the unpacked plastic bags. Left on the table were several medium sized canvases, paint brushes with various sizes and shapes, stamps and sponge tips, and numerous jars and vials of paint.
"So what exactly are we going to do with this stuff?" Rory asked, taking in the sight of the various supplies. "Ye' said we were gonna paint, but none o' us can really paint, can we?" He picked up a couple of the brushes, examining them.
"Well see, that's the best part. It's abstract art. You just make a big mess on the canvas and it's suddenly artwork," Tina replied with a confident smile. "Just think, when we're all done, you'll have decoration for your walls and it'll be unique, because there's nothing like it anywhere else in the world."
"We're gonna need a trash bag, a paper plate, some water, and paper towels," Blaine announced. Rory went to the kitchen and returned a minute later with the requested items. "I think we're gonna need more water than this," Blaine giggled, seeing the small glass Rory was holding. "You still have some of those plastic cups, right?" Rory nodded as Blaine excused himself to the kitchen and returned with a couple of Solo cups of water.
Tina put all of the supplies on the floor while she covered the table with the trash bag then placed all but the canvases back on the tabletop. "Okay, jut squirt some of the paint onto the plate, and then use the brushes and stamps and sponges to swirl around the colors and make patterns or something. Whatever you want."
The Asian girl bent down and picked up one of the canvases and handed it to Rory. He looked at it, puzzled, taking it from the girl and holding it up. "I… I don't know where to start."
Blaine picked up another of the canvases from the floor, set it on the tabletop, and sat down in front of it. Silently, he took hold of some red, blue, and white paint, squirting some of each color onto the paper plate. He took up one of the sponges and dabbed it into the red paint. Rory watched intently as his friend set about swirling the color across the material. Blaine rinsed the sponge out in the water, and then went for blue this time. He wasn't making any particular patterns, just streaks and swirls of color.
"I thought maybe we could do a three piece set," Blaine said, not looking up, but staying focused on his task. "One piece using red, white, and blue. Another piece with orange, white, and green."
"And one piece with all six colors?" Tina finished for him. Blaine grinned and nodded. "So it's like American, Irish, and Irish-American. That's brilliant!" she exclaimed excitedly. "What do you think, Rory?"
The Irishman's face brightened up. "I love it! I bet Sam will love it, too!" With the decision about their project made, they sat down and each took a canvas, working diligently. Tina made the Irish color canvas, while Rory made the one mixing all six colors. They spent the next couple of hours in focused silence as each of them made their imagination come alive.
-ooo-
The funeral reception lasted far too long. Sam and Michelle's performance was greeted mostly by positive reactions, only a pair of distant cousins seeming to be unhappy about it. Through the grapevine, Sam heard that they felt it was classless, disrespectful, and downright shameful of the two teens.
"Well, cuz, I think we did Aunt LillyLily proud, don't you?" Michelle asked, covering Sam's hand with her own as they sat on the steps outside of the reception hall in the twilight.
"I think so, too," he replied. He smiled and looked up at the sky, as if searching for something. "Yeah, I think we did great. She would have wanted us to celebrate her life."
Michelle leaned her head on Sam's shoulder. "You're an amazing man, Sam Evans. I don't think anyone else would have gotten up there with me."
Sam smiled again, closing his eyes. "Thanks, Michelle. For everything. I was dreading this, but… I'm glad we did this for her."
A few minutes of comfortable silence went by as they listened to the chirping of crickets. "You better call that boyfriend of yours, let him know what's going on."
Sam nodded, standing up and letting go of her hand. "Yeah, you're right. I guess I better before it gets too late." He reached toward his hip and fingered his phone under his jacket.
Michelle winked at him. "I'll let you boys have some privacy. I'll see you tomorrow, cuz," the woman said with a smile. She walked confidently back inside to meet up with her own parents, leaving Sam to himself. He unholstered his phone and slid his finger across the face of it, unlocking it. He grinned at the familiar background picture – he and Rory on their fishing trip earlier in the year. A few more finger slides and he dialed.
"Sammy?" came the accented voice on the other end of the phone.
"Hey, baby…."
Sam told him all about the funeral, and the last minute decision he and Michelle had made to pay tribute to their aunt. As expected, Rory was proud of him, and gushed with compliments. In return, Rory relayed the sushi lunch to him, complete with his near miss with the wasabi. He neglected to tell Sam about the art project, however.
"Goodnight Sammy. I love ye'. Give me a call tomorrow," Rory closed.
"I love you too. I'll call when you get out of school and before you go to work."
-ooo-
It was finally time for Artie to profess his feelings for Sugar Motta. Rory and Mitchell had helped him plan it all out. He would wait until she was in class, and then sneak to her locker, and leave a note for her. Inside the note, he would instruct her to come to the auditorium before lunch.
Sugar opened her locker, an envelope falling out. She knelt down to pick it up, noticing that it was pink, with her name written neatly across it. She tore open it to find just a slip of paper inside.
Meet me in the auditorium before lunch. Very important. Artie.
She scratched her head. What does Artie want that's so important?
Trying to figure out the mystery the entirety of her next class, as soon as the bell rang she zipped down to the auditorium. It was dark inside, but no sooner had she stepped inside then the lights on stage illuminated.
"Wow, what's going on?" she said out loud, gazing around the stage as the lights flashed on and off. Artie wheeled in from the side, smiling.
"Artie? What are you doing?" the girl asked, stepping down the aisle, closer to the stage. Before she made it all the way down, she heard music start. It was a song from her childhood, one that she hadn't heard in ages. When she was a kid she had idolized them – a group of five guys, all of them hotter than the next. They were known as The Backstreet Boys, and Artie Abrams was beginning to sing.
As Artie sang Quit Playin' Games with my Heart, the flashing lights started to turn more colors, reds and pinks and white. Sugar just watched in awe, moving slowly closer and closer to the stage. As soon as the end of the song came, there was a loud popping noise as glitter and confetti exploded from somewhere up in the ceiling, raining down on both Sugar and Artie, the material sparkling in the strobes.
Grinning ear to ear, Sugar crawled up onto the stage and stood before the bespectacled crooner. "Artie, what's this all about?"
Artie smiled and held out his hand. "Sugar, I've liked you for a long time. You caught my eyes last year, but I was too afraid to say anything, especially when I found out you kind of had a thing for Rory," he explained, locking eyes with her.
"Artie…" she cooed, still smiling, taking his hands and standing before him.
"Sugar, I know I'm no Irish guy. I'm just your typical American nerd who loves to sing and with a dream to direct, but Sugar Motta, I really would like to take you out for a date," he went on, his heart pounding like it never had before. Brittany had been very much in control of their relationship, and he never felt like he had to take the initiative: it was all in her court. This time, however, it was all him. Everything came down to him getting the courage to ask her out, and here it was, finally laid out on the table.
"Artie…" she cooed once again. Her eyes were soft, affectionate. "I'd love to go out with you."
Artie's heart exploded in excitement, his lips drawing into a smile so big, his jaw ached. If he could feel his toes, they would have been twitching with giddiness. His eyes glazed over as if he were stuck in dream.
"You name a time and a place, and we'll make it a date," she said, shifting over to sit on his lap. "Wheel me to class?"
"Absolutely!" he answered. "Just hold on down the ramp," he cautioned her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on tight as he wheeled them over to the edge of the stage where there was a small wheelchair ramp.
Rory and Mitchell high-fived each other as they watched the entire scene from behind the curtains onstage. "Looks like success!" Rory exclaimed to a smiling Mitchell.
"I'd say so, too. Let's get something to eat, all that light-work was exhausting," the redhead suggested. The two boys watched as Artie and Sugar left the auditorium, then flipped the switches to turn all the lights out, the pair of them leaving through the back stage doors.
-ooo-
Be home tonight, ready to come home. Love you
Rory's face lit up when he saw the text message come across his phone in the middle of fourth period. He hadn't expected Sam to return so soon. He quickly fired back a reply.
I'll see you tonight! Love you so much!
-ooo-
Rory waited anxiously for Sam to come in through the front door. Finally around nine-thirty he heard the door unlocking.
"Hi honey, I'm home!" Sam said tiredly as he stepped inside, tossing his overnight bag on the floor. Rory leapt up off the couch and threw his arms around his boyfriend.
"Sammy!" he exclaimed. "I missed ye'!" He stepped back and took in the sight of the tired blonde.
"I missed you, too, baby." Sam hugged him and then let go, sighing heavily. "I'm just so tired. Emotionally, and physically." He gently pushed past the younger teen, dragging his bag behind him. "I just want a big swig of juice, a shower, and a nice bed. And you, right next to me."
Rory grinned. "I already 'ave a glass of juice ready for ye'." He followed Sam into the kitchen and pointed to the fridge. "It's in there, staying cold for ye'."
"Thanks, babe," Sam replied with a weary smile. He let Rory take his bag and then opened the fridge fishing out the promised glass of ice cold fruit juice. "Oh god that tastes so good."
After Rory had put Sam's bag in the bedroom, he returned to find Sam taking the last gulp of his drink. "Come on, I 'ave something to show ye'."
"Right now, baby? I'm so tired…" Sam complained quietly. Rory took him by the hand and tugged him to the living room.
"Ye' don't 'ave to do anything, just look at the walls," the teen informed him. He stood Sam in the middle of the room and pointed to the wall above the couch. "Look!"
Sam's jaw dropped. It was beautiful. A trio of paintings on canvas, vibrant streaks and swirls of orange, green, blue, red, and white flowing from one side to the other. It looked like it faded from an Irish theme into an American theme, a mixture of both in the center.
"Oh my God, Rory. They're amazing. Where on Earth did you find these? And how much did they cost?" Sam asked, stepping closer to the paintings. Rory smiled happily.
"Just look at the bottom corners. They 'ave the artists names on them," the teen instructed. Curiously, Sam bent forward and examined the painted signatures on each. Blaine Anderson. Rory Flanagan. Tina Cohen-Chang.
"You did these? You, and Blaine, and Tina? You painted these?" he asked in amazement. Rory nodded, his grin still bright. "They're amazing. Beautiful. I never knew you guys could paint!"
Rory laughed. "We can't. Tina said we just made a mess on the canvas and called it art. She said that's what all the abstract artists do." He stepped up behind Sam, wrapping his arms around the blonde man.
"Well shoot, whatever, you guys did an amazing job. I can't wait to tell them, too," the American exclaimed. As he turned back around to hug Rory back properly, he noticed a fourth canvas on the opposite wall, but it was blank. "What's up with that one? It's blank."
"That one? That's for ye' to paint, Sammy." Sam looked confused. "Ye' 'ave to 'ave a little special touch of ye'r own. It's ye'r turn when ye' get the time. I still 'ave all the supplies."
Sam frowned. "I don't know if I can do something as nice as all thought, though."
Rory poked him on the nose playfully. "All ye' do is make a mess with the paint and see what comes out. It'll look neat no matter what, trust me," the teen assured him.
"You're amazing. All three of you, but you're the most amazing of all," Sam said, dragging Rory by the hand to their bedroom. He began kissing him feverishly, the pair of them falling backward onto the bed, hands roaming all over each other. They began tearing at each other's clothes, hormones going wild.
They made love for almost an hour before passing out into blissful sleep for the rest of the night, both of them happy to be back in one another's arms, ready to face the next day together, as they should be.