Fic: The Epic True Impending Love Story of Fishlips and Ladyface (Part Thirty-Eight)
In Which They're On in Five
Kurt didn’t mention their dance practice in the next couple days or make plans for any more, but Sam figured it was just as well. He didn’t know if he could go through another one. He had apparently improved enough for Schue’s standards anyway.
The bus ride up to Sectionals was longer than Sam expected. He sat in the rear of the bus beside Puck glaring at the back of his best friend’s head. He was jittery, not just because of the performance but because of his surprise for Puck and Quinn as well.
“What if you just told him?” Quinn tried to reason in the seat in front of them.
“Told who?”
She rolled her eyes. “Blaine. What would he do?”
Sam scoffed. “Probably throw a tantrum and then ignore the problem.”
Quinn frowned. “You can’t just give up, Sam. Not after what you told us about your dance practice.”
Puck, who had been idly watching Quinn, snorted. “Hummel totally wants in your pants.”
“Puck!”
“What? Am I lying, Quinn?”
She chose to ignore him. “The two of you have some serious chemistry, Sam. You can’t just let that go.”
“I know.” He muttered, moving his gaze to Kurt. “I know.”
“Okay, we’re here! Everybody off the bus!” Sam picked up his garment bag and shuffled off the bus after Quinn. “Remember, we’re here to have fun, guys. No pressure.”
“Except for Rachel screaming at us every time we screw up.” Puck muttered. Rachel glared at him.
“All right! I guess you can go find your greenroom and I’ll see you there in a minute.”
Sam lagged behind, grabbing Rachel’s arm. “You did it, right?”
She delicately grasped his wrist and threw it off of her. “Yes, Sam, I did it. Anything to help a fellow Glee Clubber.”
Sam smiled brightly. “I know we haven’t really…ever spoken, but I do appreciate this a lot, Rachel. I just want you to know that.”
She seemed slightly taken aback. “It was nothing, Sam. I promise.”
“Still.” He drew her into a hug. “Thank you.”
She tentatively patted him on the back. “You’re welcome, Sam.”
He let go and cocked out an arm for her to take. “Shall we?”
She beamed at him as she took it. “So what’s going on with you and Kurt?”
He groaned. “Does everyone know about it but Kurt?”
“And Blaine.” She answered cheerfully.
“Fantastic.”
They arrived at the greenroom. “Rachel, please just don’t mention it to anyone.”
“The Kurt thing or-“
“Both. Definitely both. I don’t care how many people know. Kurt can’t find out.”
She tilted her head to the side questioningly. “You don’t make any sense.”
“So I’ve been told.” He pushed her inside the room.
His eyes automatically found Kurt and Blaine nestled in a corner. He glared at them. Why did they deserve to be happy when he was suffering? He shook his head. Now he was just being ridiculous.
“Evans!” Puck waved him over to where he and Quinn were sitting in the opposite corner. Sam sat down between them. “What’s up?”
“No idea.” He answered truthfully. He had absolutely no idea what was wrong with him.
“You might need to get changed in a minute, dude. We’re on first.” Sam nodded absently, picking up his garment bag and heading to the bathrooms to change. He quickly pulled on the maroon button up and black slacks, grimacing in the mirror at himself. The lights flickered. He blinked at them. There was a gentle knock at the door.
“Sam?” Kurt.
“Yeah Kurt?”
“We’re on in five. We need to get backstage.”
Crap. “Thanks.” He looked into the mirror for a final time and sighed. Okay. Showtime.
He scurried out of the bathroom and hung his street clothes up on the rack to the rest of the club’s.
“Okay guys. Sectionals.” Mr. Schue beamed at them. “Step one to Nationals. We are going to go out there and give it all that we’ve got. Right?”
“Right!” The group intoned back.
“All right! Everyone but Finn and Rachel, head backstage. Finn, Rachel, you know what to do.”
With their assignments given, the club scattered. Sam caught up with Puck and Quinn.
“Are you nervous, Sam?” Quinn asked.
“Should I be?”
She shrugged. “It depends, I guess.”
“Are you?”
“Last time we performed, I went into labor. I’m a little bit nervous.”
Puck slung an arm around her shoulders and Sam laughed. “I don’t think there’s any chance of that happening this time, is there?”
Quinn and Puck exchanged an alarmed glance. Sam’s eyes widened. “There’s not, is there?”
They both burst out laughing. “You should have seen your face, Evans!”
“You’re a bastard, Puckerman.” He glared to add to the point.
He slapped Sam on the back. “Oh, I love you, Evans. I truly do. You’re so much fun to screw with.”
“I hate you, Puck.” He grinned despite himself. It was show time.