fic meme: round 2

[overstreets]

Round 1 of our fic meme is a month shy of being a year old, so we're opening up a fresh post for all your Sam/Kurt and Chris/Chord prompts.

Please note that this would be a great place to drop your unfilled prompts from the Kummer Summer Exchange. We'd hate to see all those amazing prompts go to waste!

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i want a scar that looks just like you, 5/?

[anonymous]

It only took a little while before Sam started clambering into Kurt’s narrow single at night. He’d bury his face in Kurt’s hair and Kurt would feel his chest rise slowly against the skin of his bare back, his warm, even breath tickling the back of his neck all through the night. The first few mornings they’d stay that way, silently, then Sam started drawing with his fingertips across Kurt’s back and asking Kurt to guess what it was, Sam started laughing at the sensation of Kurt’s fluttering eyelashes whenever he awoke, Sam started smiling into his naked shoulder blade and kissing up to his ear. Kurt was always to hung up on overthinking this, and them, and what any of these mornings really meant at all.

They were harder to get as their schedules became busier, and Finn and Puck became restlessly excited - banging on their room door, barging inside whenever they felt like it and suddenly desperate to see New York, all of it there was. Sue set up meetings. Sue set Finn up with classy Broadway girls and set up Puck with a former beauty pagaent winner. Kurt turned all of her dating suggestions away and watched Sam watching him, Brittany pretty and sweet by his side whenever he left the hotel now.

“He’s nice,” she told Kurt once, tilting her head thoughtfully and absentmindedly fiddling with his polka-dot bowtie. “He’s really into like, talking in a Star Wars voice.” Kurt snorted. She shrugged. “He’s not into anything else really. And he’s only kissed me here.” She pointed to her cheek, almost sadly.

Kurt felt so abruptly guilty that he agreed to let her paint his nails while they waited for Sam to finish showering. The next morning he woke up to find Sam smiling at him already, brushing his bangs back from his face, and told him he had to break up with her. “For her sake,” he said firmly, although he wasn’t entirely sure that was the case.

-

It passed in a blur. They had an album, a fanbase, a place to live that wasn’t inside of a hotel. Sue worked them for the rest of the year through interviews, articles, publicizing their tour in plastic looking photoshoots and gossip over Finn and his new girlfriend. Sam and Kurt kept their distance at all times; some people actually believe they don’t get along at all, they don’t talk, even that Sam’s homophobic. Sam mentioned in passing to an interviewer that Kurt’s been his best-friend since highschool, and when Sue blew up at him he called it ‘damage control’, which surprisingly enough calmed her down.

Sam still snuck into Kurt’s bedroom some nights, when Finn and Puck were definitely, definitely asleep. He’d kiss him slowly and languidly and at times Kurt would forget they’d come to New York to be together and ended further apart than ever.

Sam got drunk one night with Puck and came into Kurt’s room crying about it once. “It’s harder now,” he said, clutching his hair painfully tight into his hands. Kurt tried to ease them off, speaking softly, stroking his thumbs over his knuckles and kissing his tears. Sam had shook his head. “I just made it harder for us, didn’t I?”

“It wasn’t you. It was never you,” Kurt assured him, trying to smile. Then he’d kissed him, again and again.