Hey guys! This chapter doesn't have much action compared to the last chapter, but I believe it's probably the cheekiest chapter of the series. This is probably where the M rating starts making a presence (wink wink). Plus, for any Kurt and Blaine lovers, guess what? They make an appearance in this chapter! As always, I would like to thank the people who reviewed, marked this story and myself as a favorite, followed, and read my story. I'm going to keep it up! They are always welcome.

Six

The MET

6 East 82nd Street

Upper East Side

"I popped your Starbucks cherry," Sam announced with a sly smirk. He gave Mercedes a wink as he took a sip of his coffee. The blond stifled a laugh at the sight of her trying to hide her mortification with her trademark diva facial expression, poised with a tinge of mystery.

"You're such a dirty flirt," she said. Sam wasn't going to front, he was a massive flirt. It was totally cocky to say, but it was easy to flirt with girls because he was easy on the eyes.

They didn't find the sex kitten, the wannabe indie God, and his loser posse. It really bugged him that once again he didn't find the secret show but Sam didn't really give a rat's ass. It meant that he could spend even more time with Mercedes. It was almost two in the morning and he had school in a few hours but if it took all night and day to find her friend, he'd stay every second.

"The only cherry in this equation is the color of your freak of nature mouth," Mercedes fired back.

The blond gave her an overly dramatic sad face like the girl slashed his puppy with a three inch hunting knife. He was unfazed with the whole "freak of nature" mouth shit. He'd gotten used to the petty jabs and teasing that his lips got him through the years. Mercedes gave him a small giggle at the way he stuck out his bottom lip into a pout.

"What can I say? My plastic surgeon fucked up my Botox," answered Sam with a laugh.

She knocked him lightly with her elbow and said, "You're too much!"

"I still can't believe that you've never had Starbucks before," Sam replied, changing the subject.

After they dashed out of The Plaza Hotel with the hotel's manager chasing after them, the pair walked down a crowded Madison Avenue. There, Sam spotted a busy 24 hour Starbucks and suddenly had a keen appetite for a tall cup of black coffee and a blueberry scone with cream cheese filling, his usual order. Like any New Yorker, the blond appreciated a good cup of coffee at any hour of the day. There were times when he ventured out at night to get his late night coffee fix. He was addicted to coffee and a good roll of grass to go with it.

Sam nearly fell over when Mercedes admitted that she never had Starbucks Coffee. Apparently, the world famous chain didn't exist among the cornfields and tractors of Lima, Ohio. He pretty much forced the short girl to Starbucks, dragging her by the arm. He wasn't taking no for answer.

"You're nobody if you don't have Starbucks!" Sam cried.

"Gee thanks," Mercedes retorted with an eye roll. "Besides, I'm not into coffee."

"Well, you better caffeine up because it's going to be a long night."

"Well now I'm a somebody," Mercedes answered.

The two were perched on the top marble steps of The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Sam noticed their knees were lightly touching and smiled at the sight. He'd known this girl for about only four hours and he honestly liked her, a lot. For one, she was ridiculously gorgeous with rollercoaster curves that could go on for days, even months. Plus, he loved the way she would give him this annoyed look while her lips curled into a half smirk whenever he threw a dirty joke or two her way. He knew that deep down inside she liked it, maybe even loved it. She would've kicked his ass to the curb hours ago if she didn't. She was no Quinn Fabray with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a rock hard body. But, she easily surpassed Q in more ways than one. He could actually laugh and be himself around Mercedes, dirty jokes and all.

It was always a buzz kill whenever he had to stifle a good joke because Quinn couldn't stop talking about a stupid party or a dress at Sak's that she nearly died to get. Quinn would always scold him for, as she would say, letting his dork side bleed through his golden boy façade. She couldn't be seen with a dork. Unlike Quinn or any other Upper East Side princess, this girl kept him on his toes. With her, his New Year's breakup didn't even cross his mind once.

As Mercedes drank her hot chocolate, Sam silently cursed at himself. The longer he stared, the more he felt like the biggest idiot in the world. He should've done it instead of chickening out. He was a freaking pussy. He had the perfect opportunity in the Plaza Hotel's elevator. They were standing dangerously close to each other and her lips were only a couple of inches away. He was going to kiss her and lightly suck on her bottom lip. Yet, he couldn't muster up the courage to, which was ironic because he knew that he came off as an over confident smart alec. Instead, he opted to whisper in her ear like a jackass. He pretty much cockblocked himself, if that made any sense.

With resignation, he watched intently as Mercedes took slow, careful sips of her hot chocolate. He sucked his breath in as his pants tightened at the sight of her pink tongue innocently licking a trickle of whipped cream off of her plump lips. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Fuckin' look at her!" the blond thought to himself.

The girl was putting on a show, teasing him with those fucking lips. The worst part was that she probably didn't even know. Her naiveté made it even sexier.

He wanted nothing more than to attack that pretty little mouth of hers, exploring every crevice and contour. He could barely stand it when the short girl would reapply her red lip gloss, which she'd done about ten times that night. He tried his very best to ignore it and avert his eyes. Sometimes he'd pretend to check his phone for a text or missed call just so he wouldn't look. The way she puckered her freshly glossed lips made him want to fucking faint in a lustful heap.

Sam crossed his long legs to hide the boner that was growing in his jeans. He had no choice but to think of his eighty-year-old grandmother stark naked with her saggy tits grazing her kneecaps in order to force his dick to back off and behave. That was his go to thought whenever he got a hard-on with no action coming his way. It worked a hundred percent of the time and saved him from a grueling and painful half hour of blue balls.

"What are you staring at?" Mercedes asked, shaking Sam out of his daydream. His ears perked up at the sound of his crush's soft voice.

"N-Nothing," The blond stammered. From the look on her face, he knew that Mercedes thought that he was full of shit. He quickly searched her face and racked his brain for an adequate excuse for eye fucking the shit out of her. Sam eyed a stray strand of dark hair on her face. He wordlessly ran a shaking finger on her cheek and tucked the strand behind her ear. He could feel Mercedes stiffening at his touch.

They stared at each other for a long time, brown eyes boring into green eyes and vice versa. Neither party dared to break their intense eye staring contest, the kind kids did at lunch with their friends. Sam's hands grew clammy at the realization that this would be a great opportunity to kiss Mercedes. She was right in front of him and it was the perfect chance for him to pull the cheesy romantic comedy move and kiss her in the moonlight of Manhattan.

He slowly cupped her chin with a large pale hand, tenderly running his thumb against the smooth skin of her cheek. There was a lopsided half smile on his face. The blond leaned in and their noses brushed ever so softly. The sparks began to erupt through his body as he felt the short girl's warm breath reddening his cheeks. He moaned at the intoxicating smell of sweet honeysuckle and spicy vanilla that wafted from her neck and clothes.

Here goes nothing. He was finally going to kiss her.

Buzz!

Their lips were seconds away from touching and Sam quickly backed away as his pocket abruptly began to vibrate.

"Shit."

He let out a groan and gave Mercedes an apologetic look. He quickly fished his pocket and pulled out his iPhone. The blond rolled his eyes and scoffed. It was a text message from none other than his jerk off best friend, Puckerman. Only Puck could cockblock him without even knowing it. What could possibly be so important that he had to interrupt an intimate moment between Sam and his newest crush? He was on a mission. He needed to kiss her before he'd explode from the tension between them.

Fuck her yet?

"Are you serious?" Sam grumbled. He wasn't about to give his best friend a play by play before the play even happened. The blond had much better things to do, like Mercedes. Besides, the conversation could be saved for their morning walk to school. With nimble fingers, Sam quickly typed out his simple response.

Can't talk jerk off. C U in the AM.

He carelessly threw his phone back in his pocket and refocused on Mercedes. She looked absolutely ravishing in the warm moonlight. He eagerly licked his lips and once again placed a large hand on her cheek.

"Where were we?"

Their lips barely brushed when a male's voice shouted his name, dragging him out of his reverie.

Once again, Sam reluctantly pulled away as Mercedes bit her lip. "What the fuck," he muttered.

His eyes drifted to the sidewalk and saw Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel at the bottom of the steps. They both had cups of coffee in their gloved hands, their cheeks red from the cold. Blaine and Kurt also went to Windsor Day and were in his graduating class. Like Mercedes at her school, Kurt and Blaine were members of Glee Club at Windsor and got a lot of shit because of it. They were probably the only two 'mos at Windsor Day that were openly gay and proud. The couple got a lot of shit because of that too. Sam was surprised to see them out this late. The blond assumed they were spending their last night of freedom going to a gay bar downtown or having a candlelit dinner at an expensive French restaurant. Knowing Kurt's expensive taste, the latter was probably it.

Sam pursed his lips and gave the two boys a half hearted wave. "Hey guys," he greeted through clenched teeth.

"Did we interrupt something?" asked Kurt with a serious look.

"Hell fucking yeah!" Sam thought.

"No," he said instead.

"What are you doing out so late?" Blaine wondered curiously. He was wearing a blue and white polka dotted bow tie. The boy seriously had a bow tie fetish and wore a different one each day, never wearing the same one twice.

"Finding The Cosmic Slices," Sam replied sheepishly.

Kurt and Blaine shared a quick glance with Kurt frowning in disapproval.

"You too?" Blaine asked with an amused laugh. "Everyone's looking for them tonight."

"Well good luck Evans. Finn loves a good game of catch me if you can," said Kurt as he rolled his blue eyes. "Although, he's no Leo Dicaprio," he added.

Kurt knew firsthand of Finn's shenanigans because he was Finn's younger stepbrother. Unlike Finn, Kurt fit perfectly into the confines of the Upper East Side. He wore designer clothing from head to the last toe, attended every gala and charity ball in New York City, and spent the summer in the Hamptons like most kids they knew.

The whole stepbrother thing between Kurt and Finn was kind of weird mostly because Kurt once had a huge crush on the older boy. But, that was before they officially became stepbrothers of course. Back in freshman year, Sam would watch as the lovesick Kurt stared lovingly at Finn as the other boy sat with his friends in the café. Those infatuated ogles practically screamed Butt fuck me please!

Kurt eventually got over Finn and hooked up with Blaine Anderson, who transferred to Windsor Day from some international academy in Europe.

"You have a new lady friend," Blaine remarked with a polite smile.

Both Kurt and Blaine examined Mercedes as if she were the latest limited edition Armani suit.

"Is that the Ralph Lauren blazer from last year's spring collection?" Kurt asked pointing to Mercedes's yellow jacket.

The short girl instinctively looked down at her jacket and gave Kurt an eager nod. "How'd you know?" she asked.

"Well, let's just say that I'm the fashion encyclopedia," was Kurt's response. He gave Mercedes a toothy grin.

After a brief moment, Kurt focused back on Sam. "Well, if you're looking for The Cosmic Whatevers," Kurt started matter-of-factly. "I heard through the grapevine that the drummer and bassist visits this bar in TriBeCa almost every other Saturday."

"Oh yes! I've never actually been to this bar but it's called Jack's Bar & Grill," Blaine added.

"If you ask me, it sounds more like a cheap hole-in-the-wall place with lowlife losers than a music venue. But, with Finn you just never know," Kurt replied with a slight shrug.

There was brief awkward silence between the four, which was broken up by Kurt.

"Well, it looks like you two lovebirds are busy," the small boy said.

Both Sam and Mercedes blushed with embarrassment at that comment.

"We're not together," Mercedes blurted, shifting her feet away from Sam's.

"Yeah Hummel," Sam agreed with a nod.

Kurt rolled his eyes, a knowing smirk on his lips. "Yeah…and I'm Liza Minnelli," he replied in response.

"Well…See you at school Evans," Blaine added with a wave. He pulled Kurt away.

"Thanks for the info guys," Sam replied with a half hearted smile.

"Don't mention it," the boys said in unison as they walked away, Blaine's arm wrapped around Kurt's shoulder.

"Well, we have to find The Cosmic Assholes," Mercedes announced. She got up and skipped down the steps to the concrete street. Noticing that Sam wasn't following her, she whipped her head around and placed a hand on her curvaceous hip.

"Are you coming Blondie?" she demanded impatiently.

Sam rolled his eyes and reluctantly followed behind her. The almost kiss was perfect execution but terrible timing. He cursed like a sailor under his breath.

Fuck. Shit. Cunt.

Mercedes stepped into the street and tried to hail a cab, to no success. Ironically, there were barely any cabs around. He walked over and grabbed her hand into his.

"It'll be faster to take the train," Sam suggested. The pair walked hand-in-hand across the street and down the steps into the grubbiness of a typical NYC train station. The blond cracked a smile as Mercedes gave him a grimace at the sight of the deserted station. She looked as if this was going to be the last hour of her life, especially with the smell of piss and garbage invading their nostrils. The place was littered with black gum spots and pieces of old garbage. Sam wasn't going to front. This was probably one of the uglier stations in the city.

"How'd you get around this whole week?" Sam wondered.

"By train but that doesn't mean I like it," Mercedes snapped.

Sam shook his head and grinned. "Well, if you want to live here you better like it unless you like wasting money on cabs," he explained.

Mercedes opened her mouth, ready to shoot a sassy remark in his face. Yet, she stopped dead in her tracks as Sam, like a total badass, took one swift hop over the turnstile. Baffled, the short girl shot him an Are you dead serious? look. Obviously, Miss Tourist of the Year never jumped a turnstile.

Mercedes put her hands on her hips, still staring at him in total disbelief. "Really Blondie?" she shouted.

Sam held out a helpful hand and motioned for her to take it. "C'mon Saint Mercy. Do it," he encouraged.

"I can get arrested for that."

"By who? The tough on crime air?" the blond challenged. He made his point by pointing at the empty ticket stand. After all, there was no one there but them and piles of garbage. "It's like they wanted us to," he added, wiggling his eyebrows enticingly.

Incredulous, Mercedes stood there, her lips pursed as she considered Sam's still extended hand. After a minute or two, she rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders.

"Why not?" was her simple remark.

To save herself embarrassment by attempting to climb over, she settled for going under the bar instead. She was way too short to do some track and field hurdle shit.

Sam chuckled and patted her on the back. "Looks who's badass!" he exclaimed as they walked onto the platform. It was deserted, save for the few bums taking refuge of the wooden seats and some people who worked really late.

"Whatevs Blondie."

At her comment, Sam's phone vibrated in his pocket. He rolled his bright green eyes at the sound. At the moment, he and his phone weren't on the best of terms. It was a Facebook notification from some random girl from Saint Celia's that he had no idea he knew. Like he always found super annoying, he was tagged in the picture even though he wasn't in it.

But, he couldn't help but laugh at what he saw. It was a picture on his newsfeed of Finn carrying that sex kitten girl, groom and bride style, in his arms as he ran out of The Plaza Hotel's lobby. The sex kitten was giving Finn a playful kiss on his cheek as her arms were wrapped around his neck. She had some ketchup staining her cheeks. The three third wheels followed closely behind, the drummer holding two pink heels in his hand.

Talk about That's so 22 seconds ago. Finn was truly a piece of work, especially at the way he could run in a pair of skin tight jeans with ease.

He was going to show Mercedes the picture just to annoy the crap out of her with her whole I'm gonna kick Finn's horny ass the minute I see him crusade. But, the girl was engrossed in something else at the way her eyes were fixed confusedly at the platform across the tracks.

Sam softly tapped her on the shoulder as a train on the opposite track zoomed into the opposite track. It stopped for five seconds, picked up speed, and disappeared within a flash. She jumped at least half a foot at his touch.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing," Mercedes dismissed with a swat of her hand.

Knowing her, Sam knew that she wasn't about to dull her tough girl shine despite the nervous look etched on her face.

Instead, she took one step to Sam and wordlessly grabbed tufts of his navy blue hoodie. Before the blond could blink, she stepped on her tippy toes and pressed her glossed lips against his. At first, Sam was caught off guard but he quickly snaked his hands around her waist, electrified by her touch.

It was as if their mouths were made perfectly for each other, every curve and crevice melting flawlessly together. He pulled her to his body, closing the already tiny gap between them. He nearly fell apart as Mercedes began to graze his bottom lip with her teeth. The short girl tried to stifle her girly giggle as she did. She was such a tease and she knew it turned him on.

She abruptly pulled away, leaving Sam shaken and starry eyed. He softly and absentmindedly brushed his fingers on his wet lips, the taste of Raspberry lip gloss staining them. DSL or not, those lips were amazing and made his knees like jelly when they were pressed against his. He shifted uncomfortably as his jeans tightened. He groaned. This was the worst possible moment to get a stiffy.

"You seem like you needed help Sammy boy making the move," Mercedes said with a laugh. "You're friend seems to like it too," she added with another giggle.

Sam's cheeks burned a bright pink and he gave her a curt thank you. She just stole his man card and burned it in one move.