Chapter 5:

The next morning, Kurt hummed to himself as he cleaned up the dishes. Sam, god bless him, had chosen to sleep in, which meant he and Blaine had been able to share a very romantic breakfast together. Kurt had made pancakes, and even allowed Blaine to assist him by having him chop up little bits of fruit. They'd shared a lot of battery kisses, and Kurt had been in heaven, despite usually hating the taste of raw batter. But on Blaine's lips, the bitter taste hardly seemed to matter.

After Blaine had gone for the day, Kurt began cleaning up on his own. There was still quite a lot of pancakes left, and Kurt left them out as he cleaned, so Sam could have some when he woke up.

Kurt wasn't sure how much of his sudden good will towards Sam was gratitude, because he'd allowed them to have breakfast alone, or how much was guilt because he'd taken Blaine back. Either way, it felt sort of nice to not have that constant feeling of venom settled in his gut, so he didn't dwell on it.

Kurt heard Sam's door open, and he turned around to greet him. "Good Morning," He said, wondering if Sam was going to kill him for sounding so chipper. He looked like he wanted too.

"Morning..." Sam mumbled, taking a seat at the counter where the pancakes were sitting. He barely glanced at them.

"I made pancakes," Kurt said, pushing the plate closer to Sam. He raised his eyebrows pointedly.

"I only like chocolate chip, so no thanks." Sam muttered, propping his chin up on his elbow and staring vacantly off at the wall.

Kurt blinked a few times, and then turned around and began taking the pots and pans back out of the cupboard. He grabbed the flour, along with a small bag of chocolate chips, and began pouring the ingredient into a large bowl.

It took Sam a good five minutes to register this. He looked at Kurt, cracking eggs and heating up the stove, and furrowed his brow. "What're you doing?"

"Making chocolate chip pancakes," Kurt replied, stirring in the milk.

"Why?"

"Because that's what you said you liked."

Sam was silent. He didn't say anything else until Kurt finished making the pancakes, and set them down in front of him. Sam stared at them for a moment, and his shoulders shook a little. "Thanks," He whispered.

"No problem," Kurt said, beginning to clean up. Again.

Sam helped himself to a few of the pancakes, and picked at them for a minute. "I... you..."

Kurt turned and raised an eyebrow at him, and Sam stared down at the counter. "You do it too, right?" He asked timidly. "All those men, I mean... you do it too?"

Kurt put his hands on the counter, and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I do."

Sam's eyes began to water, and Kurt found himself leaning away a bit. "How?" Sam asked, tears sticking in his eyelashes. "How d'you do it?"

Kurt bit his lip, watching the tears begin to trickle down Sam's flushed cheeks. He grabbed a napkin from the counter, and moved next to him. "I pretend I'm someone else." He said, wiping the tears off his face. Sam looked at him in that wide-eyed way of his, listening intently. "Some character I made up in my head, who knows how to act in those situations, and doesn't care about what they're doing. So when I'm with a customer, I don't have to be me. And then it's easy."

Sam sniffed, and Kurt put a hand on his cheek. "You can do it too," He told him.

Sam looked away, and Kurt removed his hand. Somewhere in the quiet apartment, a clock was ticking. Kurt hadn't even been aware they owned an analog clock... he'd never heard it before. That seemed strange, because the ticking sounded so loud now...

Sam glanced back at him, and Kurt hoped he wasn't just imagining that his eyes looked calmer. "Thank you," He said, a heavy weight to his words. "You know... for the pancakes and stuff."

Kurt smiled. "You're welcome,"

He walked back around the counter and resumed his cleaning. He was done by the time Sam was finished his breakfast (having eaten every single one of the pancakes) and he took his plate from him.

Sam teetered on his chair for a moment, and gave Kurt a cursory glance. "So... so d'ya wanna watch TV with me or something?" He asked quietly.

Kurt paused, and folded his arms. "Let's get something straight." He said, raising his eyebrows. "We are not friends. We are roommates, and co-workers I suppose—but not friends. Making you pancakes and giving you some advice does not change that, kapiche?"

Sam nodded quickly.

"Good."

Sam looked at the floor, fiddling his hands in his lap. "...so, do you?"

Kurt sighed. "Yeah, alright."

Sam laughed, biting down on his thumb as he listened to Kurt talk.

"So, it's a perfectly normal encounter otherwise—" Kurt said, his feet folded under him on the couch. "I'm flirting with him, telling him how sexy and muscular he is—although honestly there is nothing remotely sexy about these muscles—steroids, so obvious—"

Sam laughed again and Kurt smiled, a little relieved to see a bit of the sparkle return to Sam's eyes. He'd been so completely dead recently, at this point Kurt was pretty sure he'd dress up as a clown and do the hula if he thought it would reanimate him.

They'd been spending most of their time together over the last week and a half, and Kurt had grudgingly admitted that maybe Sam wasn't the tumour he'd thought he was. Of course, it seemed easier to be kind now that Blaine was back in his bed every night, if for nothing more than to sleep.

Now that they were getting to know each other, Kurt was pleased to find that Sam was actually quite sweet and funny. And without the haze of hatred skewing his judgment, his penchant for cartoons and comic books seemed endearing instead of childish.

"Anyways, so we start doing it—surprise surprise, he's a bottom." Kurt continued, rolling his eyes. Sam actually giggled. "Whatever, right? So I'm on top of him, and he's on his stomach and he starts moaning—but not just moaning. Moaning a name. And it's not mine. He's moaning Denny."

"Denny?" Sam laughed. "What kind of a name is that?"

Kurt shrugged, laughing at the memory. "No clue. But it gets weirder. He's moaning 'no Denny—you can't have me, Denny...'."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "You're kidding."

Kurt shook his head. "Nope. In retrospect, I should have seen that coming when he asked me to hold his hands behind his back and call him a slut." He shrugged again.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair. "That's so fucked up. People are pervs."

Kurt made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Don't judge. Just because someone's kink isn't yours, doesn't mean there's something wrong with it. And he was very nice, gave me a big tip."

Sam nodded his head thoughtfully. "I guess... what about the jerks that throw me around and call me a slut?" He asked, his voice turning bitter. "Can I judge them?"

Kurt frowned. "You can do one better; tell Blaine. He won't take their business again."

"...Really?"

"Yeah. Just because they're paying for you doesn't mean they have the right to treat you like trash. You're a person, and you're providing a service for which they should be grateful."

Sam gave him a small smile, and was about to respond when a clicking sound from the front door let them know Blaine was home. By the time the door opened a second later, Kurt was sitting at the counter, looking through January's issue of Vogue with a bored expression on his face, and Sam was pretending to be taking a nap on the couch.

Blaine smiled at the sleeping blond, and then came over to give Kurt a peck on the cheek. "Hello, beautiful." He said, keeping his voice low so he didn't wake up Sam. "How was your day?"

Kurt shrugged. "Alright, boring mostly. I had a customer around noon but other then that..."

Blaine smiled at him, and glanced back at Sam. "No stimulating conversations with your favourite roommate?" He teased.

Kurt snorted. "Oh yeah, that's what I'm going to do with my days, sit around talking about comic books and whether or not mayonnaise and lemon juice really bleach your hair."

Blaine chuckled and kissed him on the nose, then went into his room to get changed. Kurt looked over at Sam, who had opened one eye and was grinning crookedly at him. Kurt grinned back, and Sam shook his head. "You're such a bitch," He mouthed silently.

Kurt blew him a kiss, and winked in response.

Neither of them were sure why they were lying to Blaine, but Kurt knew they were going to keep doing it for as long as possible. So much of their lives were controlled by Blaine, and they both wanted something to themselves. Their friendship, sudden and unexpected as it was, was theirs and theirs alone. Kurt intended to keep it that way.

Kurt flipped through the pages of his magazine, trying to force himself to focus on this seasons latest designer clothes, but he was having trouble. He thumbed one of the glossy corners, and glanced over his shoulder at Sam's bedroom door, where he'd disappeared a half an hour ago with a customer. The customer, Brett Neely, was one Kurt'd had a few times before and he had to say, he wasn't fond of him.

It wasn't that the man wasn't nice exactly, he was... but he was always very forceful. That, combined with the fact that he was rather well endowed, always made going down on him a fairly traumatic experience. Kurt had given Sam as much instruction as he could, warning about how he tended to jam himself right down your throat when he was about to come and how he would hold you there until he was done riding out the orgasm, but there was only so much he could do.

He was worried. Sam was sensitive, and fragile. He wasn't like Kurt. He couldn't handle being treated that way... Kurt hated to think about him being hurt.

The door opened, and it took all of Kurt's efforts not to jump up to his feet. That wouldn't be professional, it would put the customer on the spot. Instead, he remained lounging on the couch, pretending to look at his magazine.

"Hey there, Kurt." Brett said, zipping up his jacket.

Kurt looked up and smiled. "Hello Brett," He said smoothly. "And how are we today?"

Brett grinned, and glanced at Sam, who was standing off to the side with his shoulders hunched, just a little. To his credit, he managed to give Brett a look that sort of passed for coy. "Pretty damn good."

Despite Sam's attempts to cover up, Kurt could tell he didn't return the sentiments. "Glad to hear it." He replied.

Brett smiled at him again, and looked Sam over once more. "I'll uh, see you boys later." He said, and Sam began to walk him to the door way. "Bye, Sam."

Sam nodded, and closed the door behind him. The he turned and collapsed on the couch. Kurt went and sat next to him, and Sam slumped over, resting his head against Kurt's shoulder. Kurt was surprised at the contact, but he put his arm over Sam's shoulders anyways. "How are you?" He asked gently.

Sam didn't answer, but Kurt thought he felt his shoulders shake a little. "Do you want me to make you some tea?"

Sam shook his head in response, and Kurt thought quietly for minute. "Do you wanna watch that X-Men cartoon?"

After a pause, Sam nodded and Kurt went to go get the DVD's from Sam's room. He put in the one Sam had been watching before, and then retook his seat next to Sam on the couch. Sam put his head back against Kurt's shoulder, and wrapped his arms around Kurt's middle, holding him like a teddy bear.

Kurt looked down at him for a moment and wondered if that was jut how Sam was with everyone. Besides Blaine, no one had ever been affectionate like this with him. But, it did feel sort of nice to have Sam hugging him like that, so he pulled his feet up on the couch, tucked them under himself and snuggled back against Sam.

As they sat in silence, watching the old cartoon, Kurt realize this was the safest he'd felt in a long, long time.