an: it is finally here! I'm so sorry for making you guys wait, I hope this one's worth it! please leave reviews, as they are the main form of encouragement to continue this and they make me feel really good :)

"See you later, babe," Sam said, planting a final kiss on Quinn's lips and following Kurt to English. Since he'd joined Glee Club, he'd had to switch around most of his classes, and he now had fellow glee members in most of his classes.

He sat in the desk in front of Kurt, and as the teacher droned on about the Great Gatsby, Kurt stared at the back of his head and imagined running his fingers through that soft blond hair. He watched the muscles in Sam's arms move as he wrote with a spacey smile on his face, and sometimes Sam would turn around and smile at him, almost like he knew what he was thinking. And he just might.

Ever since Sam found out about Kurt's feelings, Kurt had been trying not to let things feel awkward, but they still did. It seemed like that wouldn't change. But Sam had surprised him by being so nice about the whole thing. He'd said he understood, and, while Kurt didn't buy it at the time, maybe he did. Hasn't every high schooler felt the agony of liking someone who didn't like them back? Sam was such a sweetheart, it really didn't do much to help Kurt not like him.

"Do you like it fast or slow?"

"What?" Kurt was shaken out of his daydream to find Sam turned around in his seat looking back at him.

Sam smiled. "Music. You know, those mix tapes we were gonna make? Do you like fast music or slow music?"

"Oh," Kurt said, adding some floral details to the dress he was designing instead of doing his class work. "I didn't know we were still making those. Ummm...a mix of both?" He smiled.

The bell rang.

At his locker, Kurt was packing his bag to go home, when there was a sharp beeping noise behind and to the left of him. It got closer and faster, like a metal detector, and he realized the person who had passed him was making it as he backed up. He turned around and leaned against his locker as the boy - a beautiful, well-dressed boy with curly brown hair and warm eyes - stopped in front of him. "What are you doing?" he asked, not at all amused. And who the hell are you?

"That was my gaydar going off," the stranger said, in a smooth, deep voice. He leaned up against the locker next to Kurt's. "How you doin'?" He nodded at Kurt as he said this, grinning.

"And who are you?" Kurt praised himself inside for his composure. Was this beautiful strange boy really making a pass at him? He was almost jumping for joy inside, but on the outside he was cool and collected, as usual. Perfect controlled facial expressions. A tilt of an eyebrow, a quirk of the lip. I'll be an actor yet.

"Blair Barks," the boy said. "Lead baritone of the Dalton Academy Warblers." He held out his hand for a shake, but Kurt folded his arms over his chest instead, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "So you're here spying on us?" He felt like he was in a story that kept repeating itself. New Directions does well, other glee clubs try to steal our thunder, they succeed, we lose, blah, blah.

Blair laughed. It was the kind of laugh that made you want to laugh along, too, except that Kurt was supposed to be pretending to be bored by him. "No, not at all," he said. "I'm here to give a message to your director, William Schuester."

Kurt grinned. "I see, so you're their messenger boy."

"No," Blair said. "I'm the director's son."

"Ahh, nepotism."

Blair frowned. "Are you questioning my musical ability? Because we can show down and I'll show you up, just name the time and place, sweetheart."

"Fred Kelly Stadium, 8:00 tomorrow night. Bring an audience."

"Ooh, sorry, can't tomorrow. Vampire Diaries is on."

"Cop out."

Blair smiled. "But I can TiVo it! See you there."

"It's on, pretty boy."

"Like Donkey Kong," Blair pivoted on his heel and walked off. Kurt smiled and leaned up against his locker.

"Kurt?"

He didn't realize Sam was standing next to him until he heard his name called.

"Who was that?"

"Blair Barker," he said simply.

"Is he new?"

"No, he goes to Dalton."

"So...what was he doing here?"

Kurt turned around and fixed his hair in the mirror once more. "No idea," he said, closing his locker, and they headed out to the parking lot. "So, I was thinking about that English assignment," Sam said as they walked. "Do you think you could come over later tonight and help me with- Oh shit."

Sam saw it before Kurt did. He put his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Oh my God," said the boy in a disbelieving tone, higher than his usual tone of voice. There in the parking lot stood his black SUV as he'd left it, but spray-painted across the side of it in bright pink paint was the word 'FAG'. "Oh my God," he repeated. They moved closer and saw that the tires were slashed as well, and the same offensive word was painted on the back of the car.

Sam was watching Kurt for warning signs of a breakdown, but the boy seemed to be reacting to this very well. He, however, couldn't help but lose his temper a little and kick the tire of a neighboring car. "Damn it!" he yelled, seething. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

"Well, look, I'm sure if we call your dad he can send a tow truck, right?" he said.

Kurt shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I don't want him to know about this, it would just freak him out."

"Kurt, don't you think he's going to find out about it eventually?"

Kurt shook his head again. "No, I don't know. I don't want to think about it right now." He turned away from the car and looked Sam in the eye. "Can you give me a ride home?"

Sam nodded, and led the way to his pick-up. The way to Kurt's house was silent. Sam couldn't decide whether it was better that Kurt seemed to be okay, or if it would be better if he'd just break down and get it over with. He was already outraged at the lack of tolerance in this town. Why is it that when things seem to be going well, everything goes to hell?

"Ugh, Rachel's here," Kurt said, frowning. He so did not want to be around her perky shiny diva-ness right now.

Sam bit his lip, knowing he might regret this later. "Do you want to just come over to my house? We can just chill, do homework or something." Kurt was silent for a moment and then nodded. Sam could see his eyes were about to spill. He squeezed Kurt's shoulder and drove home.

Sam's house was your generic suburban one-story, built around the 40's or 50's to be identical to all the other houses on the block. Of course, since then houses had been painted and remodeled and added onto, so they weren't identical at all, but the inside layout was basically the same for them all. There was a great room - combining dining room and living room, a good-sized kitchen, and a hallway that led to the bedrooms and the guest bathroom. It was modest, but it was clean and cozy, and had mismatched personal touches everywhere, from a painting of a ship sailing in muted sunset colors to an old yellow and green afghan over the couch to gently used (and a bit scratched) dining set that was Mrs. Evans' pride and joy. Kurt liked it, it felt comfortable.

He poured himself a Diet Coke while Sam put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and picked out a selection of movies. He was doing his best to hold it together, but all he really wanted to do was curl up in a ball on his bed and cry. Of course, Finn and Rachel would probably be doing unspeakable things in his bedroom at this very moment, and that was something he could not deal with. When Sam came back into the kitchen Kurt's tears were gently rolling down his cheeks. It was shocking to see someone usually so composed just lose it. He put the movies down on the counter and drew the sobbing boy into his arms, holding him tight with a hand on his neck, and Kurt didn't really know how to react. Nor did he want to. He just let himself sob into Sam's shoulder, feeling guilty for probably ruining his shirt - though in retrospect Sam probably didn't care about his clothes as much as Kurt did.

When Kurt had finally calmed down a bit, he detached himself from Sam and picked a movie from the stack Sam had brought over - a surprisingly gay selection of romantic comedies and musicals, he figured Sam was trying to cater to his tastes. He picked Hairspray, and they sat on the couch and watched it and ate popcorn. Sam had tried to get him to talk about it, but gave up after a little while, and went on like nothing had happened. They watched their movie and Kurt's tears dried, and Sam kept looking over at him for a sign of instability, but no such sign appeared. Kurt would be fine, as he always was. He'd move on, and the face he'd present to the world would be one of strength and contentedness. Sam kind of admired him for that.

"So, any new gossip?" Sam turned facing Kurt, and Kurt did the same.

"What, because I'm gay I'm a gossip?"

Sam smiled. "No, because you're you you're a gossip."

Kurt smiled and shrugged. "Well," he said, scooting a little closer like it was a big secret, even though no one else was in the room. "Mercedes has a new crush." Sam raised his eyebrows. "Oh, but I can't tell you, because she'll throttle me," Kurt continued, "Tina and Artie are still on the outs, but Artie is still obsessed with getting abs and winning her back. I think he's better off without her. I mean, someone who's gonna get with someone on the sole basis of a nice set of abs doesn't sound like a great girlfriend." Sam laughed. "Yeah, no, not really," he said.

"Then...it is still impossible to tell if Santana and Brittany will ever be a full-on lesbian couple, but the yearbook staff and film club department - of which Jacob Ben Israel makes up about 35% - is hopeful. And sources say that the dress Katrina Vance will be wearing to Winter Formal is extremely provocative, and she'll likely be kicked out."

Sam smiled. "What about you, no new dirty secrets?"

Kurt felt flushed. "Not really, other than there are apparently a group of homophobic rednecks out for my head." And the fact that I'm pretty much in love with you right now. He couldn't help it. He tried, really tried, but Sam was so beautiful, with his gray-green eyes boring unabashedly into his right now, and those pretty, soft pink lips.

"I'm gonna get another drink, you want something?"

Kurt was shaken from his reverie. "Sure, but I can get it." He stood and followed Sam back into the kitchen.

"Oh, check this out," Sam said, grinning and taking a carrot from a drawer in the refrigerator. "My dog goes crazy for carrots, it's hilarious." He took out a knife and started cutting the carrot into pieces.

"Oh," said Kurt. "You have a dog?" He wasn't a big fan of dogs. At all.

Sam was smiling full-force now. "Yeah, her name's Puka, wait till you see-OW!" He stopped short and watched a stream of blood flow from a cut on his finger. He shook his hand, like he was shaking off the pain, and wiped the blood on his shirt without thinking. Kurt winced.

"Damn it!" Sam said. "Why would I do that?" He frowned, looking down at the dark red smear on his shirt.

"That needs to go under cold water right now," Kurt said.

"What, my finger?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "The shirt, silly. You think I care about your little cut?"

Sam laughed. "Ouch."

Kurt held out his hands. "Well come on, off with it," he said twitching his fingers in a way that said 'gimme'. Sam sighed and pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to Kurt, whose eyes had momentarily gone wide staring at Sam's glorious toned upper body. Sam cleared his throat, and Kurt began rinsing the blood stain out of his shirt. "In the mean time, get yourself a band-aid," he said, "and put pressure on the cut. And use Neosporin!" Sam was already digging through the medicine cabinet in the adjacent laundry room.

"Kurt, I may be lacking a little in the grades, but my mommy did teach me how to put on a band-aid," he said, returning to the kitchen. Except he was having a lot of trouble with this one, with his finger out of commission. Kurt took the first-aid supplies and squeezed salve onto Sam's cut finger. He put the band-aid on, hands lingering a fraction of a second too long, taking in the feel of Sam's calloused hands. He looked up slowly, trying not to stare too much at Sam's naked upper half only a few inches in front of him, and he realized for the first time how much taller Sam was than him. It wasn't a whole lot, but at least three or four inches' difference that had him staring straight at that pair of beautiful lips again.

"Thanks," Sam said, probably more softly than intended. He couldn't help but feel, somehow, like he was being pulled forward by an invisible string of some sort. Painfully slowly, though time seemed to have ceased to exist, their faces moved closer, Sam's neck inclined for his face to be on a better level with Kurt's. What was happening? His eyes flicked back and forth between Kurt's gray ones, which were a bit stunning, now that he really looked, and Kurt had this cute odd nose that seemed a bit too big but really worked to make him look more distinguished. Sam knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he couldn't be doing this, but he kept getting closer, and he could see a sort of hopeful fear in Kurt's eyes, and he wanted to tell him not to be afraid, and he wanted to feel his skin under his fingers and run his hands through his perfect hair.

But he didn't, because in the end, he was Sam and Kurt was Kurt and none of that would ever happen because...because Sam was with Quinn. He backed away slowly, and Kurt swallowed and said, "I think you should take me home now." And he did.

Kurt kept his face to the window on the ride back home. He didn't want to face Sam, but mostly he couldn't let Sam see the tears running down his cheeks for the too-manyth time today. When the pulled up in his driveway and he got out of the car, Sam called his name, but he kept walking until he collapsed in his bed and cried until he couldn't cry anymore.

okay, some notes: every source says differently whether the character's name is Blaine or Blair. I heard Blair first, so I'm sticking with Blair. also, because it's a more unusual name for a boy to have and I rather like it that way.

it was also recently pointed out to me by a dear friend that Quinn's parents split up, therefore making my whole previous chapter incorrect. it really irks me to have forgotten that and strayed so far from canon, but you know what? I'm not going to put in the effort to change it so you can all just deal with it or make your own versions of it in your head :)

thanks to the lovely Bree (Bree-utiful) for helping me with this! She came up with most of the ideas in this one, and she's been a huge help. love ya Bree!