Fic: The Epic True Impending Love Story of Fishlips and Ladyface (Part Thirty-Seven)
In Which Flailing is Not an Appropriate Dance Move
In the practices leading up to Sectionals, one thing became painfully apparent: Sam was a terrible dancer. Even Finn, the self-proclaimed worst dancer of the group, had to agree. Schue had just smiled sympathetically and asked someone to volunteer to give him some extra help with their routine. And who could have decided to help but Kurt. Sam was screwed.
He arrived at Kurt’s afterschool for the practice, noting that his truck and the SUV were the only cars in the driveway. Kurt opened the door shortly after he knocked.
“Where is everyone?”
“Dad and Carole are both at work and Finn’s at Rachel’s.” He listed off. “Why?”
“No reason.” It had been a while, actually since their first tutoring session, that he had been alone in the house with Kurt. The thought didn’t make him uncomfortable, per say, but he definitely was nervous.
“Well, come on then! We’re wasting time!” He grabbed a couple of water bottles from the kitchen and then shooed Sam down the stairs.
As Sam reached the bottom of the stairs, he noticed an obvious change. “What happened to your furniture?”
“I had Finn push it against the wall so we would have more room.”
More room to dance. Just dancing. Nothing else. “Good idea.”
“You ready?” Kurt asked, already heading toward his stereo.
“Yeah, sure.”
Kurt started the first track they would sing at Sectionals. “It’s not the instrumental version,” Kurt noted as he patiently arranged Sam into their starting position for the dance. “Because I figure you need to learn how to dance first before you try them at the same time.”
“Good idea.” He tried to fight off the blush that was threatening to build from being so close to Kurt.
“Okay, now follow me.” He started out slowly enough, doing a basic shimmy and side step. “Think you got that?”
“Hmmm?” Sam most certainly did not have it. He was too busy being distracted by Kurt’s dancing.
Kurt chuckled. “You’re hopeless, Sam.”
“Pretty much.”
“It’s not actually that hard. Watch me.” He pushed Sam down on the couched and restarted the track.
And watch Sam did. It was hard to concentrate on the exact moves Kurt was making when he was smoothly gliding across the floor, lost in the music.
“So,” Kurt started as the music drew to a close. “You think you can do that?”
“…I’ll try.” He stood up, standing beside Kurt, and waited for the music to begin. He tried to imitate Kurt’s flawless moves, but ended up just flailing a lot.
Kurt shut the speaker off and laughed. “What are you doing?”
“Copying you…”
He smirked. “Really? Because I don’t think I looked that spastic. One more time, Sam.”
Kurt restarted the music and talked Sam through the steps. “To your left. Your other left. That’s good!”
They finished the first number, both panting slightly as they grabbed their water bottles. “That was really good, Sam!”
He raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Really?”
“I mean, you’re no Mike Chang, but you should make it though the number without embarrassing yourself too badly.”
“Thank you, Kurt. Really. It means a lot.” He answered dryly.
Kurt just laughed. “C’mon, Swayze. We still have one number to do.”
Sam was suddenly nervous. This was the partner dance. He would have to practice it with Kurt. Damn.
Kurt smiled at him. “You ready for this one?”
He gulped down another sip of water. “Sure.”
“Okay, couple dancing. Of course you’ll be leading so this hand goes here-“ He placed one of Sam’s hands on his waist. “And this one goes here.” He clasped the other hand in his own. “Okay?”
Sam nodded, unable to speak. Why could he just tell Kurt what was on his mind?
“Okay, Schue wants something like a waltz, but sped up about a million times. You think you can handle that?”
“Maybe?”
Kurt laughed. “It’s not hard. Just make a box.” He stepped away from Sam, demonstrating a simple box step, and then nestled himself back in his arms. “Just like that.”
“Just like that.” Sam attempted to copy Kurt’s moves until he saw him wince. “Sorry about your foot.”
“It’s fine, Sam. Just keep going.”
Sam did. He had no other choice. This moment couldn’t be real: awkwardly waltzing with Kurt Hummel in his basement. Stuff like this didn’t happen to him. It was too perfect.
“Sam? Sam!” Sam shook his head.
“What?”
“The music stopped.” Kurt cocked his head at him. “You okay?”
Sam smiled down at him. “Yeah, I’m good. Now I just-“
He took one awkward step to the right and they both tumbled over, Kurt lying on Sam’s chest. He might have forgotten how to breathe, every inch from his chest to his knee connected with Kurt. Kurt’s hand was warm on his chest and his eyes were wide as he stared at Sam. “I-um.” Wow, this was awkward.
Kurt scrambled up, flustered. “I think you should go, Sam. It’s getting late.”
He checked the clock on the wall. It wasn’t even five. “But we didn’t-“
“Goodbye, Sam.” Kurt pushed him towards the stairs and disappeared into his bathroom. Sam trudged up to the first floor, confused. What the hell just happened?