FIC: All Your Midday Prayers
Media: Fanfic
Title: All Your Midday Prayers
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine + Sam
Spoilers: Up to 2x19, “Rumours”
Warnings: Foul language, homophobia, gratuitous Disney
Word Count: 9,000+
Notes: Title stolen from "Friend Like Me" from Aladdin. Also, I guessed on Sam's little brother's age, because whatever. He looks like a first grader to me. :)
Summary: When Kurt and Blaine offer to babysit Sam’s brother and sister, it hits Sam a little harder than he expected. And not in a good way. Based loosely on this prompt from the glee_angst_meme
When Kurt first offers to babysit Sam’s brother and sister, it isn’t so much about Kurt being a good friend as it is about Blaine getting a new hobby.
“I swear,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes, “Blaine needs kids. It’s not really because he’s that responsible - don’t worry, though, I’m very good at the details - but more because he has the attention span of a five-year-old and really likes Disney. It’s painful.”
“Look,” Sam protests, hating how the very idea of free babysitting for Stevie and Stacy thrilled him. He isn’t that guy.
But Kurt isn’t looking at him with a pitying expression this time, like that night at Dalton; instead, he rolls his eyes and cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “No, seriously, Sam, I need him to get this crazy urge to marathon Disney out of his system. I mean, I love Little Mermaid just as much as the next gay, but he gets way too excited.”
Sam can’t help cracking a smile at Kurt’s overly flamboyant gestures - and based on Kurt’s accompanying smirk, they are totally deliberate - and he manages to reply, “I guess… if it really isn’t a problem-”
“Definitely not,” Kurt answers immediately, his accompanying smile both broad and authentic. Then he leans a bit forward, like he’s sharing a secret, and adds, “And thank you.”
--
In all honesty, Sam isn’t too surprised when he gets home after a double shift of pizza delivery to find Stacy hanging off of every word Blaine says.
(And hanging off his arm, but Stacy’s always been kind of a monkey.)
Because the thing is, Blaine is a charming guy. He practically radiates it. And Sam knows how much his little sister loves making new friends. She’s always been the friendliest of their family, while Stevie is the shy one.
“But then! Mulan gets to dress up like the warriors and go fight the bad guys!” Blaine is saying when Sam steps through the door, standing on the bed like he’s about to sword fight an imaginary villain.
“And then she makes them go boom!” Stacy shouts, flinging her arms up in the air and bouncing on the mattress. She falls back and Blaine starts laughing.
Sam shakes his head, snickering, before turning to look at Kurt, who is watching the entire display with a look of fond bemusement. Weirdly, Stevie is standing right next to him, grinning as he clutches his school workbook to his chest. Sam is kind of surprised he isn’t playing with Stacy and Blaine too, but figures it must be his shyness kicking in.
“Hey guys,” Sam greets everyone over Stacy’s chatter. “I brought pizza-”
The rest of his statement is lost to a cacophony of excited shrieks as Stacy and Stevie abandon their posts, and Sam exchanges grins with Kurt as Blaine rescues the pizzas from being crushed in the inevitable dog pile.
--
After the first time, Sam kind of expects Kurt to consider his good deed for the month finished and move on, but then he gets a text message in the middle of U.S. History class.
So Blaine just got Tangled. And he’s trying to learn to play the songs on kazoo.
Sam stares at the message for a moment, amused, before replying, have fun w/that
Barely a minute later, his phone vibrates, and Sam glances underneath his desk to see Kurt’s response.
PLEASE tell me you need us to babysit this weekend
Before Sam can react, another text comes in.
seriously, I MIGHT KILL HIM
It’s an act of magic that keeps Sam from outright laughing in the middle of class, but he manages to stifle his reaction as he types out his agreement.
--
Sam gets home from work without pizzas, because halfway through his shift Kurt texted something about a picnic in the park, so he’s not terribly surprised when no one is home. The closest park is a block away, even though it’s barely eligible for the title; there’s a swingset and an old jungle gym, surrounded by a small lot of patchy grass, but it’s something, at least.
When he gets to the playground, Sam is surprised to see Kurt hanging by his knees from the top bars on the jungle gym. Stevie is clinging to the bar beside him with his hands, and he’s grinning excitedly and jabbering on about something Sam can’t quite make out.
“Sammy!” calls Stacy, and Sam turns.
Blaine appears out of nowhere with Stacy on his back, greeting, “You have tomato sauce on your shirt.”
“You look like spaghetti!” Stacy laughs, reaching out to get picked up anyway. She clings to Sam like she’s trying to see how hard she can hug, and for a brief moment, Sam forgets how exhausted he is.
Over her shoulder, Stevie still hasn’t noticed Sam’s arrival, his eyes locked brightly on Kurt.
“Because, you see, in school yesterday? We had to climb the ropes! And I got all the way to the top! I was the only one!”
“Seriously?” Kurt asks. He sounds completely normal, as if he wasn’t hanging upside-down by his knees and talking to a seven-year-old, and Sam’s kind of impressed by his ability to do that. “I could never get passed the first mark - that’s the red one, right? Yeah, I wasn’t as good at climbing as you are.”
“I bet you could make it now, though!” Stevie replies, in the same voice he used to use whenever Sam pulled out his guitar and played along with the classic rock records their dad owned. For some reason, this realization makes Sam’s smile dim just a little, feeling a slow curl of something unpleasant in his chest.
“Maybe,” Kurt allows, glancing past Stevie and catching Sam’s eye. He grins sheepishly, though whether it’s directed at his past weakness or his current acrobatics, Sam isn’t sure.
Sam can’t help but share his amusement, smile returning anew, and he brushes away the twinge in his heart. He’s probably just tired.
--
It seems like the second time is the charm, in this case, because Kurt and Blaine leave that night with a casual, “See you guys next weekend!” called to Stacy and Stevie, and there is just no way Sam can disagree when his brother and sister are so excited like that.
Stevie doesn’t stop talking about Kurt all night, even after Stacy’s already dropped off to sleep and he should be getting ready for bed.
“Did you know that Kurt can count to ten in five different languages?” Stevie says as he’s putting his clothes in the hamper and changing into his pajamas.
“Really? Cool,” Sam replies, puzzling over his math homework under the dim overhead light. His parents are out by the car, smoking and talking over financial stuff, so he’s trying to concurrently entertain Stevie and finish algebra. It isn’t working out so well now that Stevie has a new best friend.
“And he owns a really big truck!” Stevie says through a mouthful of toothpaste. Sam rolls his eyes and grabs a tissue, wiping away some of the excess paste as it falls off the brush onto Stevie’s shirt. Stevie barely pauses long enough to make a face at him before continuing, “He knows how it works and everything!”
“That’s nice, Stevie,” comments Sam as he tries to solve for x, to no avail.
“And he showed me and Stacy how to do cheerleading moves today,” Stevie gushes, though he manages to keep it to a whisper now that he’s crawling into bed beside Stacy, who is curled up next to her worn stuffed purple elephant. Sam has given up on his homework for now, too tired to focus on the differences between 6 and 9 and 2 and 5 for long enough to get the math correct. Instead, he tucks Stevie into bed, listening to, “Kurt said I could kick even better than Blaine, and Stacy was too small to do it right, but I did it really well.”
“Go to bed, Stevie,” Sam directs, managing a soft smile despite the sour taste in his mouth. He glares at his math homework and gives up on it, deciding to watch his old VHS of A New Hope on low volume instead.
--
In Glee Club the next week, Sam glances down at his phone and sees a text from Kurt. Hey, the dollar theater is showing Megamind on Saturday. Are S&S old enough for that?
Sam makes a face without meaning to.
“What’s up your butt, white boy?” Mercedes asks, sitting down next to him and not being subtle at all about trying to read his texts over his shoulder.
“Nothing, just a-,” Sam begins, before remembering that Mercedes probably doesn’t know about his arrangement with Kurt, since Sam had pleaded with him not to spread it around. He waves her off. “It’s nothing.”
Mercedes eyes him like she doesn’t believe it, but then Tina runs up, giggling excitedly about choosing her song for the benefit concert, and it’s enough to distract her.
Grateful for the save, Sam looks back at the screen on his cell phone. Kurt’s text shines back at him accusingly, waiting for a response.
Finally, he laboriously types out, dont worry theyre cool do you need $
It’s the dollar theater, I think we’ll manage, Kurt sends back.
Sam grits his teeth, because he knows that Kurt doesn’t mean it to sound dismissive, but he can’t help but think about working eight-hour shifts smelling like pizza and how he isn’t that guy, and he wastes most of Glee Club glaring at the piano.
--
When Sam gets back from work on Saturday night, he brings home a box of donuts, because they did a trade with the workers at the donut shop across the street. He lucked out and was on shift with Tiffany, who refused on principle to eat refined sugars and spent most of their shift lecturing Sam why he shouldn’t either. He considers it a victory, though, because all he had to do was pretend to listen and he got the whole box of donuts out of the deal.
He gets home, prepared to hold off Stacy and Stevie from the treats until they’ve eaten something nominally healthy, but everyone is distracted when he walks through the door.
Stevie is wearing all black, gesturing at Blaine with a pinched expression on his face, like he’s trying to imitate royalty. “And that’s where you’re wrong, Metroman!” he declares, saying the name like it’s one word.
Blaine looks torn between snickering at the haughty tone and playing his part, and he doesn’t really manage to be convincing in his booming reply of, “Justice is never wrong, Megamind!”
Sam looks over at the bed, where Stacy is bouncing excitedly behind Stevie with a fish sticker on her forehead. Kurt is seated primly at the edge of the mattress, legs crossed, with Stacy’s bright pink feather boa draped around his neck. It looks oddly fitting.
“Uhh,” Sam cuts in, staring at the scene in confusion.
“Sam!” Stacy shrieks, launching herself from the bed and landing heavily against Sam’s waist. He staggers, but manages to keep a firm grip on the box of donuts.
“Hey,” Blaine says, grinning at him. He has a towel pinned to his t-shirt like a cape, Sam just notices, and he raises an eyebrow at the sight.
“We’re playing Megamind!” Stevie shouts, clearly still enthralled. “I’m gonna fight Metroman, and be all smart and save Roxanne Richie!”
Snickering at the game, Sam looks down at Stacy and says, “Oh, he’s going to save you then?”
“Nope, that’s me,” Kurt corrects, waving from his position on the bed.
“I’m playing Minion!” Stacy says, pointing at the fish sticker on her forehead. “See? I’m a fish!”
“Kurt’s playing Roxanne ‘cause he’s prettiest,” Stevie states, looking defiant. From the way Blaine’s choking back laughter and Kurt’s rolling his eyes, they’ve already discussed this development, and Sam suddenly feels out of the loop.
“But-,” Sam begins, almost continuing with Kurt’s not a girl before catching himself. Because Kurt doesn’t seem to have a problem with playacting, and based on the looks he and Blaine are exchanging, they both find the entire thing hilarious. But Sam can’t help the cold feeling in his stomach as he watches Stevie grin up at Kurt with an adoring expression on his face, and he kind of hates himself for it. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Sam manages to say, “Ah, never mind. Can I play with you guys?”
“Yeah, Sam, come play!” Stacy cheers.
“You can be the bad guy!” Stevie says, and before Sam can react, he’s turning to Kurt for approval. “Sam can be the bad guy, right?”
Kurt meets Sam’s eyes over Stevie’s head, and Sam gets the impression he’s asking permission to involve Sam in their playtime. And even though Sam knows Kurt’s trying to be kind and give Sam some time off to rest after work, he can’t help but get annoyed. Stevie doesn't need permission to play with his older brother.
“Sure,” Sam spits out before Kurt can say anything, somehow managing to make it sound less irritable than he feels. “I’ll be the bad guy.”
The donuts sit unnoticed on the table until their parents get home, and by that point, Sam feels too tired to want them anymore.
--
The next weekend, Sam gets off work early because the delivery car breaks down, which is a mixed blessing. It sucks because he doesn’t get as many tips as he’s used to, but the past week at school has been kind of a nightmare of midterms and drama, and he could really use a nap.
So he’s pleased to see the lights off when he gets home; the television is on and Kurt and Blaine are sitting next to each other, talking quietly. Stacy is curled at the foot of the bed, face pressed into her sweater, and Stevie is tucked as tightly as he can manage under Kurt’s arm, watching the animated movie on-screen with half-lidded eyes.
“Hey guys,” Sam says as he opens the door, making sure to stay quiet for Stacy’s sake. Both Kurt and Blaine nod at him, and Stevie blinks tiredly before managing a small wave. He adds by way of explanation, “Got off early. How were things?”
“Good,” Blaine answers. “We’re midway through Aladdin.”
“Cool,” murmurs Sam vaguely, eyeing the second bed with the sort of longing he usually only feels after a hard-won football game. He can’t even be bothered to change his shirt before he collapses into it like he’s a puppet with cut strings.
The jubilant voice of Robin Williams sings on the television for a few minutes before Kurt asks, “So, long day, I take it?”
“Ugh,” Sam groans into the comforter. “Long week.”
“I hear that,” concurs Blaine with a soft laugh. “McKinley had midterms, right? Isn’t that what Mercedes was saying?”
“Yeah,” Sam confirms, and thinking about Mercedes reminds Sam of Glee Club, which prompts him to say, “Actually, hey. I heard a crazy rumor you’re coming back, Kurt. That true?”
Kurt hesitates just long enough for Sam to figure out that it’s a touchy subject, but before he can say anything, Stevie excitedly interrupts, “You’re coming back to Sam’s school? Does that mean you can come over all the time?”
“Um-,” Kurt begins, sounding awkward, and Blaine starts laughing, though from the muffled sound, he’s burying his face into Kurt’s shoulder in an effort to control himself. Sam frowns into pillow, feeling irritation spring up from out of nowhere, and he barely registers Kurt replying, “I don’t know if I’m coming back yet. I have to go to a meeting first, and then we’ll see.”
“If you come back, you should totally come play more often!” Stevie says, sounding even more enthusiastic. “We could play X-men, and I could be Wolverine-”
“Stevie!” Sam snaps, looking up. By the way they all sharply turn to face him, he isn’t successful in keeping his annoyance out of his tone, and he sighs. Taking a breath, he quietly adds, “Stacy’s still sleeping, Stevie, you need to keep your voice down.”
Stevie accepts the critique for what it is, lowering his voice and continuing his ecstatic whispers toward Kurt. Blaine, however, is eyeing Sam with a concerned frown, like he thinks there might be a problem, and Sam kind of wishes he had just stayed at work.
Sam just sighs and settles back on the bed, facing away from them this time. He’s been pissed off at Santana all week for dumping him like that in front of everyone, and it kind of sucks out any joy he might have felt about Kurt returning.
Anger burning low in his stomach, he doesn’t manage to get to sleep until Kurt and Blaine leave.
--
Kurt comes back to McKinley in a glorious rush of fashion and singing. Sam’s irritation with Santana must be fleeting, because he’s as moved as everyone when Blaine shows up to serenade Kurt, and he does his best to watch out for any antagonism in the hallways. The sight of Santana clinging onto Karofsky’s hand in the hallway later on barely tarnishes his good mood.
The next morning, however, Stevie is whining and fighting with their mom, crying something about not wanting to change his sweater from yesterday, and Sam’s forced to intervene when the argument nearly makes their mother late for her interview.
“What’s wrong with this shirt?” Sam asks, holding up a plaid button-down that Stevie used to love.
“Kurt says only truckers wear plaid!” Stevie replies, clinging to the faded blue sweater like a lifeline.
“What?” queries Sam. Baffled, he tacks on, “…so?”
“I don’t wanna be a trucker.”
“Okay,” Sam says, frowning. He grabs another sweater, which is dark red this time. “Well, how about-”
“No,” Stevie whines, making a face. “It’s not blue!”
“…what?”
“Kurt says blue is my color!”
Finally, Sam manages to find a navy blue button-down that Stevie will accept, replacing the stained sweater from the day before. Frustrated by the whole ordeal, he only barely manages to make it to first period, endlessly grateful that he found the time for his homework last night.
He corners Kurt in the lunch room after fourth period, not even bothering to grab a tray before sidling up next to him in line.
“Dude, what’s up with giving my little brother fashion advice?” Sam asks, trying to make it sound like a joke. It sounds more like he’s complaining than anything else, but it’s not like Sam can take it back.
“What?” Kurt looks honestly confused. “I didn’t give him fashion advice.”
“He refused to change his shirt this morning because he says that you told him plaid shirts were stupid and he looks good in blue,” Sam recalls dutifully, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh,” says Kurt, as though he can’t decide whether to be bewildered or amused. “I didn’t - I mean, I was just talking. The plaid thing was to Blaine, actually.” He pauses, looking a little pleased, and adds, “I didn’t think he was actually listening to me. That’s kind of cute.”
“Not at seven in the morning, it’s not,” Sam corrects, trying to keep from sounding bitter. “And Stevie only has like, two blue shirts, dude.”
“Sorry,” Kurt says, reaching for a packaged salad. “If you want, I’ll tell him about all the other colors he can rock on Saturday.”
Part of Sam wants to say no, just because Kurt makes their whole arrangement sound so casual, like Sam’s not totally mooching off of him and Blaine for babysitting services, but there’s no way he’d be able to explain to his family why Kurt and Blaine suddenly aren’t around.
“Sure,” he says, like he’s giving up.
“Speaking of fashion,” Kurt says after he pays for his salad, “Since I’ve been back, you’ve worn that shirt twice. And I’m pretty sure you’ve been wearing those jeans all week.”
Sam can physically feel his hackles rising, but Kurt’s looking at him with a strange, inspired expression, and it’s not really what he was expecting. So he counters, “What’s your point?”
“I don’t know if you know this about me, Sam, but makeovers are my crack,” Kurt explains as he sits down at a mostly empty circular table. Sam stands nearby awkwardly as Kurt continues, “Seriously, it’s sad. But not as sad as your shirt. I have some stuff in my closet that would probably fit you - my grandparents like to send me stuff for Christmas and they haven’t actually seen me in three years, so it’s usually a size too big, but my grandmother has remarkably good taste for a woman alive during World War 2, so the stuff isn’t hideous, just ill-fitting. And I have a few jackets that are out of style and are just taking up room, so I wouldn’t mind going through and picking out the ones that would look good on you.”
Sam just stares, not quite sure how to take the offer. Because on the surface, he knows it’s charity, and he wants to just refuse and move on; but Kurt’s watching him with this half-nervous, half-excited expression that makes Sam think that maybe Kurt really does just want to give him a makeover. It’s not like that would be strange or anything, given that he’s, well, Kurt.
Besides, the dark, traitorous side of his mind whispers, he does need new clothes.
“Um,” Sam mutters, glancing around to make sure no one hears him. Being poor sucks, even if Kurt seems determined to make the most of it. “Sure. You can stop by whenever, I guess - I don’t usually work on weeknights, so…”
“I’ll come by tonight,” Kurt says in a rush, and he actually claps his hands, he’s so excited by the prospect. Sam immediately feels less self-conscious, though his concern over Kurt’s obsessive tendencies continues unabated. He wonders if Kurt’s going to make lists or something.
“Cool, I guess,” Sam replies, grinning. “Well, see you in Glee.”
Kurt waves absently, and good lord, he really does pull out a pencil and a notebook. Sam leaves before he gets dragged into the deliberation process, shaking his head in confusion.
--
Glee, unfortunately, is like a train wreck.
The school’s new paper puts out its first issue, and everyone acts like they’ve never seen a copy of The Enquirer before. Sam knows what the article is talking about, and so does Quinn. But he doesn’t really want to air his dirty laundry out for the entire Glee Club to see, not after Santana already dumped him in front of everyone without so much as a “It’s not you, it’s me.” He especially doesn’t want to deal with Finn, who looks like he’s two seconds away from hitting someone. Specifically, hitting Sam.
Finn storms out before things get too out of hand, but the rest of rehearsal is a complete mess, and Sam makes up an excuse to leave early. He thinks he might be able to get his homework at least partially done before Kurt shows up, but not if he tries to suffer through the sea of whispers and aborted glances that Glee has turned into.
When Kurt knocks on the door, Stevie practically trips over the bed trying to be the first to reach it. Sam only barely manages to stop him from yanking it open, hissing at him to calm down, already before pulling it open himself.
“Kurt!” Stevie says brightly before Sam can say anything, launching himself at Kurt’s waist. Given that Kurt’s carrying a large box of clothes, it’s a tricky maneuver, but Kurt manages to lift the box enough to let Stevie hug him without dropping anything.
“Hey, Stevie,” greets Kurt, grinning at Sam with a slight roll of his eyes, his expression all isn’t that cute?; Sam gives him a close-lipped smile in return.
After two minutes of stern words, Sam manages to get Stevie to sit down at the table, with the promise that Kurt will talk to him when they’re finished. Kurt smiles indulgently at Stevie, and then sets the box down, saying, “I’ve gone through the clothes already and I think everything in here should be suitable for both your coloring and your general… sense of fashion.”
He says the last bit with a wince, and Sam considers being offended before he remembers that he’s actually heard Kurt say much, much worse when bad clothing is involved. In fact, given that knowledge, Sam feels a little pleased that a small wince is all Kurt can muster up regarding his style.
As Sam starts looking through the box, Kurt glances around and asks, “Oh, hey, where’s Stacy?”
“Quinn offered to take her on a play date,” Sam replies, holding up a dark green pullover to see if it’ll fit him. “I think she’s trying to apologize for her boyfriend picking a fight.”
“Yeah, Finn can be a little… spontaneous,” Kurt murmurs. “I tried to tell him that he’s reading into it, but he’s like a dog with a bone sometimes. He’s so convinced he’s right that he doesn’t even want to hear anything else.”
“Maybe he just feels guilty,” Sam mutters. Kurt raises his eyebrows at him, registering the tone, and Sam feels the need to defend, “Hey, I didn’t try to beat him up when he actually stole my girlfriend, so I think I have the right to be kind of pissed that he’s getting all righteously angry about it.”
“Oh, I’m not disagreeing. Finn’s acting like a complete buffoon,” Kurt says, waving a hand like he’s clearing the air. “I just thought that you were the one who broke up with Quinn. To date Santana?”
“That’s only because Quinn cheated on me with Finn,” Sam replies, deliberately trying not to think about Santana and that whole mess.
“Ah, right,” accepts Kurt, nodding. He looks like he’s considering the matter for a moment before saying, “Finn’s a giant hypocrite, isn’t he?”
“Yep. And an asshole.”
“He’s my brother,” Kurt says simply. “I can only say that to his face now.”
Sam looks up at Kurt and grins, feeling lighthearted in a way he hasn’t since he first heard about that stupid paper. Because it’s not Kurt’s fault that Finn decided to act like a jackass, and he’s the only one besides Quinn who has actively taken sides on the whole matter. It almost makes the whole awful situation seem less irritating.
“Sam?” calls Stevie’s voice from the table. He’s clutching a red crayon and staring at them with wide eyes, clearly wanting to go against Sam’s orders to stay put. “Can Kurt come play with me now?”
And suddenly, the warm feeling is gone, and Sam just feels empty inside. He hates feeling like this - because even if Kurt’s the cause of his annoyance, he’s figured out by now that it’s not Kurt; it’s the way that Stevie looks at Kurt, like he thinks that Kurt is some kind of superhero.
Sam hates it. He hates that Stevie has this stupid little crush on the guy Sam keeps mooching off of, because it makes it that much harder for Sam to stand his ground and finally tell Kurt that they don’t need his charity. Because they do need the charity and Sam gets that, but in the back of his mind, he just keeps tallying up all the debt he’ll owe to Kurt once this whole mess is over.
The worst part is that Kurt doesn’t seem to get it; he keeps acting like this really is just some big favor between friends, no big deal. But Sam isn’t stupid. Eventually, the other shoe is going to drop.
“No, Stevie,” Sam says, before Kurt can respond. “Kurt needs to get home. He has homework tonight too.” He turns to Kurt, shrugging apologetically, and says, “I’ll go through this stuff later, okay?”
“Sure,” replies Kurt. He looks over at Stevie and says, “If your hands are clean, I’ll take a goodnight hug.”
“I drew you a picture!” Stevie cries, taking Kurt’s offer as permission to leave the table, and he practically lunges toward the older boy. There’s a piece of white paper clutched in his hand, and on top Sam can see To kURT love STeVie written out in big red letters.
Sam grimaces, feeling his throat tighten unpleasantly, and he says, “I’ll wait outside.”
It’s stupid and he knows it, but Sam still has to talk himself out of being irritated with Kurt.
Especially when Kurt ducks out after him, all open smiles and “Take care of yourself, Sam,” and makes Sam feel like the jackass this time.
--
In many ways, the whole rumor about Sam hooking up with Quinn and Kurt is kind of a relief.
Because Quinn is suddenly a lot more available to hang out with Stacy and Stevie now that she’s in a fight with Finn, and even though they’re broken up, Sam can’t deny that he still likes her. She’s utterly sweet and Stacy adores her because she’ll make games out of painting nails and styling hair. Stevie doesn’t usually play with them, but he's familiar enough with Quinn that he doesn’t hide behind his shyness.
As for the Kurt part of the rumor, it really only makes Quinn that much more defensive of him. Sam isn’t sure whose reputation she’s trying to protect, exactly, but her steadfast determination on the matter is comforting nonetheless.
Kurt seems to be taking the whole thing in stride, not bothering to say a word about any of the rumors, much less the ones involving him. Sam knows that he’s complained to Blaine about it - he got a text from Blaine in English class that jokes, so apparently you’re hooking up w/my bf? that’s hot, which nearly gets Sam kicked out of class, he laughs so hard - but other than that, Kurt doesn’t bother to correct anyone.
If he just ignores the constant stares and whispers from the kids in Glee Club, Sam finds himself oddly at ease with the whole thing. Because rumors are just rumors, and he figures it’ll blow over eventually, once Finn gets his head out of his ass. Besides, Kurt’s taken to avoiding him at school, to help quell the whispers, and Sam finds it a lot easier to forget about the free clothes and babysitting when he’s not constantly seeing Kurt.
But toward the end of the week, Sam comes face-to-face with the real reason why Kurt keeps avoiding him.
He forgets his bag in the choir room and doubles back for it, cursing himself for being forgetful on the night that his mom needs him to cook dinner for everyone. By the time he finds it, the halls of the school are mostly empty, and Sam’s running through his short mental list of recipes he’s capable of making.
Sam turns the corner near the gym and nearly runs into Kurt, who is standing at his locker with a spray bottle of blue liquid and an old rag clutched in his hand. He’s staring at his locker with the same tight expression on his face that Sam remembers from last semester, like he’s halfway close to crying.
On his locker, someone has scrawled out COCKSUCKER in bold, permanent marker.
“Oh, god,” Sam says, staring at the graffiti. “Kurt, I’m so sorry -”
“Don't be,” Kurt replies immediately, like he’s expecting it. He doesn’t turn to face Sam, and instead steps forward to spray the locker with the liquid. “This kind of thing isn’t that hard to get out, actually, now that I know where the janitor keeps the cleaner.”
“But,” Sam protests, warring over his desire to help and his need to get home. He waves his hands uselessly, continuing, “If it wasn’t for that stupid rumor-”
“If it wasn’t for that stupid rumor, they’d still do it, Sam,” Kurt interrupts him, sounding rather defeated about the whole thing. He’s scrubbing in neat little circles, like he’s done this before. “I’m just glad they’ve left you alone. I think maybe everyone’s a little worried you’ll beat them up.”
He looks over at Sam for the first time, giving him a small, conspiring grin, like Sam taking on Karofsky was some kind of inside joke. Sam can’t bring himself to smile back, too busy staring at the smeared words on the locker and feeling roughly six inches tall.
“I,” Sam begins helplessly. “I have to-”
“Go home, Sam,” Kurt tells him, turning away and spraying his locker with another coat of cleaner. “Don’t worry, I’m used to this. And hey,” he adds with forced cheer, “at least this time no one hit me.”
It’s possibly the most depressing thing Sam’s heard since his dad told him about losing his job, and he has no idea what to say to it.
So he manages a quick goodbye and heads home, unable to get Kurt’s voice out of his head.
--
After the encounter by the lockers, there’s a noticeable change in Sam’s interactions with Kurt. More specifically, there stop being any interactions at all, because Sam starts avoiding Kurt right back.
He doesn’t really intend to. It’s not like Sam wakes up the day after their conversation with a deliberate plan to stop talking with Kurt or anything like that. But when he gets to school the next day, he catches sight of Kurt standing by his now-clean locker, and he feels like a horrible person all over again.
Because Sam still gets annoyed when Stevie asks after Kurt, all wide eyes and smiles, and he hates how his parents are so grateful to Kurt and Blaine for watching after Stacy and Stevie for the past few Saturdays. He can’t stand the way it makes him feel, like those eight-hour shifts at the pizzeria aren’t enough to offset their family’s money problem, like he’s not enough to take care of his own siblings.
Sam can’t stop his frustrations, but every time he sees Kurt now, all he can see is the smeared marker on Kurt’s locker, or the excited grin on his face when Sam agreed to accept his old clothes, and it just makes Sam think that he should feel grateful.
But he doesn’t. He just feels angry and guilty about it all, and Kurt’s the only target he has.
So Sam avoids him.
At first, Kurt doesn’t seem to notice. Because Kurt started avoiding him first and he keeps on doing that, lest the bullies get bored with their old target and start harassing Sam for more than just “whoring it out.” But then the rumor breaks in Glee, and the whole story of Sam’s family troubles comes out, exhausting and belittling in its honesty.
Suddenly, Sam’s gone from the “bisexual slut” to the “homeless kid”, which is somehow less interesting and way more humiliating, and the whispers slowly fade away.
Sam drops his shift at work that Saturday, choosing to spend the day watching a Star Wars marathon with Stacy and Stevie, and Kurt seems to understand that he needs some time to deal with everyone finding out. Rachel and Finn come over, practically falling over each other in their efforts to apologize, and Sam appreciates the gesture but still hates the way they stare at him with stark pity in their eyes.
Since Glee Club forced his hand, practically everyone’s been watching him like that. Only Quinn and Kurt treat him normally, and Sam can’t even look at Kurt without feeling a horrible mix of irritation and guilt anymore.
He doesn’t tell Rachel and Finn about Kurt and Blaine babysitting for his siblings because he’s already decided to call it off. It’s just too much. He can’t deal with everyone’s pity on top of Kurt’s blatant charity, not when everyone else is so freaking grateful and all Sam can feel is shame.
On Sunday night, Sam sends Kurt a short message that takes him over an hour to type.
hey I dont need you to babysit anymore. tell Blaine ok? thx
Ten minutes later, Kurt replies with, Why? Is everything okay?
Sam doesn’t respond.
--
It’s harder to avoid Kurt the next week at school, but it doesn’t take long for Kurt to realize that Sam doesn’t want to deal with him. He tries to say something a couple times on Monday, but by Tuesday, Kurt just looks at Sam with this expression of hurt confusion, not even trying to approach him.
By Wednesday, Kurt walks by Sam without a glance, eyes focused straight ahead, and Sam practically breathes a sigh of relief. Kurt’s treating him just like he treats all the guys in Glee Club: distant and disdainful. It feels normal, and in turn, Sam can nearly forget the ways he took advantage of Kurt’s generosity, and how much he still really owes him and Blaine for all their help.
He tells his parents that Kurt and Blaine are busy with school, so they won’t be able to watch Stacy and Stevie on Saturdays anymore. His mom and dad are upset but understanding, and they talk in bright tones about how they’ll just have to coordinate their schedules a little better.
Somehow, lying to his parents makes him feel less guilty than lying to Kurt, and Sam doesn’t quite know what to think about that.
Unfortunately for Sam, while he is concocting his plan to avoid Kurt, he forgets to take Stevie into account.
“What do you mean, Kurt can’t come play anymore?” Stevie cries, eyes growing impossibly wide. He looks like someone just told him that Santa wasn’t ever coming for Christmas again, and Sam feels like absolute shit when Stevie’s lower lip starts to shake. “We were gonna play X-men.”
“I - I know you were, Stevie, but Kurt and Blaine are really busy with school and-”
The excuse that worked so well with his parents doesn’t seem to have any effect on Stevie, and he spends the rest of the night alternatively pouting and glaring at Sam, like he knows it’s all Sam’s fault.
Sam grits his teeth and does his homework on the porch.
--
Stevie’s still mad on Friday, when Quinn offers to drive them to the mall so Stacy and Stevie can play in the indoor playground by Sears.
“Why can’t Kurt come to the playground with us?” he mutters irritably when Quinn shows up, glaring balefully at her.
Quinn raises an eyebrow at Sam, clearly intrigued by this development, and Sam realizes that he forgot to tell Quinn about the whole situation. He shakes his head at her and busies Stevie in getting his backpack on. By the time they get out to the car, Stevie has dropped the question, but he’s clearly still cranky. Quinn buys them all ice cream cones once they get to the mall, and it distracts Stevie enough for him to get excited about the playground.
Once they arrive, Sam and Quinn sit down beside an entire collection of mothers and fathers, waiting patiently while all the kids run around happily inside the massive, multi-colored fort.
“So,” Quinn says, taking a tiny lick of her ice cream. “Stevie knows Kurt?”
Sam sighs, shoulders slumping. “I knew you were going to ask me about that.”
“Yep. So spill.”
He looks over at Quinn, who is eyeing him with the same evaluating stare that she had on their first date. It’s mesmerizing, really. Sam feels like he’s being judged, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not. When they were dating, Quinn’s attention made Sam feel special, like he was worthy of holding her gaze; now, it just makes him feel overexposed.
Still, he knows Quinn well enough to figure out when she’s willing to back off, and now isn’t one of those times. So he runs his hands through his hair - too damn long, but haircuts are a luxury now - and he tells her everything.
By the time he gets through the entire story, including how he kept getting annoyed with Kurt for no reason, Quinn’s finished her ice cream and is dabbing her lips daintily with a paper napkin. Her eyes narrow at the story of the locker, giving Sam the impression that Finn’s going to get stern orders to investigate that, but she doesn’t interrupt.
“I just don’t know what to do,” Sam finally finishes, making a small gesture toward the playground, where he can see Stevie leading Stacy through a collection of plastic tunnels. “Stevie’s been mad at me all week, and what can I tell him? ‘Sorry, but I can’t deal with Kurt right now?’ He’s acting like I broke his toys or something.”
“Or something,” Quinn quotes back, arching one eyebrow gracefully.
Sam looks over at her, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on, Sam,” says Quinn, rolling her eyes. “Stevie has a crush. It’s cute. Yeah, it’s kind of weird that he’s crushing on Kurt, but he’s seven. A lot of little kids start to hero worship someone outside their family when they’re young; it’s nothing new. It kind of reminds me of the crush I had on my Sunday School teacher, actually. My mom was a little afraid I’d try to go live with her.”
“This isn’t about Stevie-,” Sam protests, but Quinn raises a hand in front of his face.
“I’m not finished,” she says primly, narrowing her eyes at him. “And I think it is about Stevie. You’re jealous, Sam. Before all this happened, you were the big guy in Stevie’s life, and suddenly Kurt walks into the picture and Stevie can’t get enough of him. And yeah, the whole money issue is there, but I’ve offered to help out too, and you’re not mad at me, are you?”
“It’s different with you,” defends Sam, making a face. “You’re not around all the time like Kurt and Blaine are, and I dated you.”
Quinn shrugs. “According to all those rumors, you dated Kurt, too.”
“Not funny,” Sam mutters back at her, glaring.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, a little smile playing on her lips. “Watching everyone freak out was pretty amusing.”
“Yeah, and that part where they wrote slurs on Kurt’s locker? I’m sure he thought that was hilarious,” Sam snaps, his tone deadpan.
To her credit, Quinn looks chagrined by the comment, but then her lips purse and she shoots back, “Considering that’s the last time you spoke to him, how would you know how he feels about it?”
The air seems to crackle between them, and Sam doesn’t know what to say. He just stares at Quinn, not sure whether to argue back or apologize.
Quinn watches him right back, expression unchanging, but Sam doesn’t really expect her to back down.
“Sam! Quinn!” Stacy shouts, running up with Stevie just behind her, and Sam is saved from answering. He starts helping Stacy into her jacket, knowing it’s a cop out, but he just doesn’t want to deal with the judgment in Quinn’s eyes.
The rest of the night is lost in ushering everyone back home, and Quinn doesn’t bring up Kurt again.
--
The next day is Saturday, and Sam is doing his best to focus on delivering pizzas so he can forget about his conversation with Quinn.
So when the passenger door opens and Blaine climbs in without warning, Sam just thinks, of course. Really, he should be expecting it by this point.
“Blaine, I’m at work,” Sam protests immediately, glaring at him.
“I know,” replies Blaine, smiling in a ridiculously charming way. “I just figured I’d ride along for awhile.”
“You can’t just ride along for awhile,” Sam tells him, though in all honesty, he knows the owner doesn’t care as long as he gets the pizzas delivered on time. “I’m working,” he tries again.
“Just drive, Sam,” Blaine says casually, buckling his seatbelt. “The pizzas are going to get cold.”
Sam grits his teeth and puts the car into drive, waiting the entire time for Blaine to start lecturing him or something. But by the time he pulls on the highway, Blaine still hasn’t said anything; instead, he’s entertaining himself by staring out the window, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his knee like he’s working out steps to a song.
They get to the first house and Sam slams the door behind him when he goes to deliver the pie. When he gets back to the car, Blaine’s still there, though now he’s starting to fiddle with the radio.
“Okay, fine -- what?” Sam finally snaps, when they’re stopped at a stoplight and Blaine starts humming along with one of the songs on the alternative station he’s picked.
“Oh, you’re ready to talk to me now?” Blaine asks, and it would sound patronizing if he didn’t seem so encouraged by it.
“You never asked if I wanted to talk in the first place,” replies Sam, sounding petulant even to his ears.
“I figured I’d let you get used to my presence first.”
“…I’m not a dog, Blaine.”
Blaine grins at him, and he seriously winks before saying, “Whatever. It worked, right? We can talk now?”
“If you want to talk, I won’t stop you,” mutters Sam, preparing himself for another discussion on why he shouldn’t feel bad about accepting charity.
“That’s cool, I kind of have a whole bunch of stuff to say to you anyway,” Blaine says. “But first I have question. Why are you ignoring Kurt?”
Sam clenches his jaw, glancing away from the road for a brief moment to look at Blaine, who is looking a lot less smiley than before. Sam looks away before he makes eye contact, replying, “I’m not ignoring him-”
“Yes, you are,” Blaine cuts him off. “And you know what? That’s kind of a dick move. Because all Kurt ever did was have your back, and suddenly you’re treating him like crap? Just because - what, you’re afraid of the whole gay thing?”
That wasn’t something Sam was expecting, and he momentarily glances over at Blaine, honestly startled. “Wait, what? I don’t care that Kurt’s gay.”
“I didn’t think you did either, but according to Kurt, you freaked out and stopped talking to him after that rumor happened, so-”
“He was avoiding me too! He said he didn’t want me to get dragged into it-”
“Yeah, and I get that,” Blaine acknowledges, “but now that everything’s been cleared up, what’s your issue? Are you really that nervous about being called gay?”
Sam’s getting frustrated by the whole conversation, and he really can’t deal with this kind of interrogation and drive at the same time, so he pulls off to the side of the road. Once he’s parked, Sam turns to Blaine and repeats, “I already told you, I don’t care that Kurt’s gay. Or that you are. If I cared about that, do you really think I’d let you guys babysit my brother and sister? It’s not like I didn’t know you two were dating.”
Blaine stares back at him impassively, his face a mask. “So why are you avoiding Kurt, then?”
Sam doesn’t really know what to say. Because all the reasons he’s been spinning around in his mind sound stupid now that Blaine’s sitting right there, watching him, and Sam just knows that no matter what he says, Blaine isn’t going to accept it. Sam is friends with Kurt through Glee Club, but he’s friends with Blaine through Kurt, and Sam knows that anything he says won’t be good enough for Kurt’s boyfriend.
So he doesn’t say anything.
Blaine lets the silence reign for a few moments before his lips twitch downward, and he looks away. Then he says, “Fine. I’ll just talk, then.”
He pauses, like he collecting his thoughts, and asks, “Do you ever wonder why Kurt doesn’t hang out with any of the other guys in your Glee Club?”
Sam frowns, confused by the new turn to their conversation, and manages to murmur, “Uh-,” before Blaine cuts him off.
“It’s because, with the exception of that Artie kid, every single one of those guys has bullied him about being gay. And even though he and Artie get along okay, they don’t really share any interests,” Blaine explains. “Yeah, he and Finn are brothers now, but that doesn’t mean they hang out. Pretty much every guy in your club acts like Kurt’s a girl, and most of them used to taunt him.”
“What’s your point?” Sam asks. “I mean, yeah, that sucks, but - what does that have to do with anything?”
“Why do you think Kurt offered to help you out, Sam?” Blaine volleys back.
Sam blinks, frowning, and he says, “He said you really liked kids and had some weird obsession with Disney. I… didn’t really think about it.”
“Really?” Blaine says, sounding skeptical. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I do love Disney, and I’m great with kids - half-Filipino, so, you know-” Blaine shrugs and offers Sam a half-smile, like it’s a joke, but Sam doesn’t get it. Blaine continues, “But seriously, do you really think Kurt and I would spend every Saturday for a month babysitting your brother and sister just because I like Disney?”
It does sound ridiculous when Blaine puts it that way. Sam doesn’t really know what to say, and Blaine seems to get that, because he uses the moment to lean forward and pin Sam with an intense stare.
“Kurt wanted to be your friend, Sam,” Blaine says, like it’s obvious. “You’re the only straight guy at your guys’ entire stupid school that never treated him like crap because he’s gay, and he likes you. As a friend,” he tacks on, for clarification purposes. “And yeah, maybe he used your family’s money situation to do it, but it doesn’t change the fact that all Kurt wanted to do was be your friend. And the instant it got too hard, you shoved that back in his face.”
“It wasn’t about the gay thing!” Sam protests, spreading his arms wide. He feels a bit like a broken record.
Blaine’s stare doesn’t let up. “So what was it about, then?”
For a long moment, Sam maintains eye contact with Blaine, but soon he sighs, looking away and slumping in his seat. The belt digs into his hips but Sam just closes his eyes and ignores it.
“I’m just so freaking tired, Blaine,” he finally says. “And every time I look at Kurt, all I can think is how much I owe him. Because you guys babysat for me, and Kurt gave me his clothes, and when that whole rumor thing broke, some asshole graffiti’d his locker and he still didn’t say anything. And I’m just so frustrated because I’m working my ass off trying to make things cool for my family, and it’s just not enough.”
He opens his eyes, glancing over to see Blaine’s reaction, but the other boy’s face is a blank slate. The lack of response is encouragement enough for Sam, and he continues, “I know it’s stupid, but I really hate charity. And yeah, Kurt didn’t try to make me feel like I owe him, and I know that, but that doesn’t change the fact that I still do. I kept getting irritated every time he talked about watching Stacy and Stevie. And then he got bullied again because of me, on top of all that other crap he’s had to deal with, and I just felt like a jackass.”
Blaine is still silently watching him, eyes unreadable, and Sam fidgets with the strap of his seatbelt. With a sigh, he finishes, “Plus, Quinn thinks I’m jealous because Stevie has that ridiculous crush on him, and she’s probably right. She usually is.”
Sam looks away, staring at the digital clock on the dash of the car. If they don’t leave soon, his boss is probably going to yell at him, and it’s kind of depressing how little Sam cares.
Finally, Blaine says, “I guess I can see where you’re coming from, but that doesn't mean Kurt deserves being blown off like that. Friends help each other, Sam. It’s how things work. And all Kurt was trying to do was be your friend.”
Feeling miserable now, Sam manages to reply, “I know.”
“Maybe you could say something to him on Monday?” suggests Blaine, in a tone that makes it seem more like an order. “Because right now? Kurt thinks you’ve blown him off for no reason, just like all the other guys in your Glee Club. And I don’t think you understand how much that crap hurts.”
From his tone, Sam gets the impression that Blaine isn’t just talking about Kurt anymore, but he feels too spent to worry about it for long. Instead, he just nods. Then he turns the car back on, muttering, “If I don’t get back soon, my boss’ll be pissed.”
“That’s cool,” Blaine says, adjusting his seatbelt as he shifts around in his seat. “I should probably get home soon anyway.” He glances over at Sam, shooting him a closed-mouth grin, and says, “I’m glad we had this talk.”
“Hm,” Sam murmurs absently, still feeling a little lost in his thoughts. He does manage to ask, “Does Kurt even know you’re here?”
“Nah,” Blaine replies, looking a bit abashed. “But I figure I’ll tell him about it next week sometime.”
The implied after you talk to him goes unsaid, but Sam hears it anyway.
--
Sam spends most of Sunday composing a long e-mail detailing all his reasons for being annoyed with Kurt and why he knows he’s wrong. He ends the e-mail with effusive apologies and sad faces, and then deletes the entire thing because it’s stupid.
On Monday morning, he asks Mercedes where Kurt’s homeroom is and walks right up to Kurt’s desk, where Kurt is busy playing with his phone.
“Here,” Sam says, laying a piece of paper down on top of Kurt’s unopened notebook.
Kurt looks up at him, surprised, and then glances at the sheet of paper. There are hearts all over it, and a crayon drawing of two stick figures standing by a house. On the bottom, Stevie’s signed it in big purple letters.
“Stevie’s class was talking about holidays last week,” Sam says, “and he decided to make you a valentine because he never got to this year.” He points at the stick figures, who both have poorly drawn X’s on their chests, and explains, “Apparently, you guys are X-men.”
Kurt’s jaw tightens as he looks at the picture, and he seems to be fighting back a smile. When he looks back at up at Sam, however, the warmth is gone, and Kurt coolly says, “Thank you. For bringing it.”
“I’m sorry I acted like a jackass,” Sam says without thinking. All his excuses are swirling around in his head, but he ignores them, instead going with, “The past couple of months have really sucked, and I didn’t mean to act like it was your fault, but I guess I kind of did. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done to help me out, especially since you didn’t have to.”
“Oh,” Kurt says. He looks surprised that Sam’s apologizing, and Sam grits his teeth against the twisting guilt in his stomach. Then Kurt gives him a tentative smile, replying, “No problem. And, well, thanks. I guess.”
“Cool,” Sam says, uncomfortable with the tension he can still feel in the air. He shifts on his feet anxiously before adding, “Are you free on Friday night? Stevie really wants to show you this project he made with macaroni.”
Kurt blinks, and then holds up his phone. “I can ask Blaine if he wants to stop over. Are you picking up a shift on Friday?”
“No,” Sam answers, shrugging. “I just figured we could hang out, if you guys wanted. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen any good Disney movies.”
Kurt’s smile seems a lot more genuine this time, and Sam can’t help but grin back.
--
seriously guys, this thing WROTE ITSELF. I swear it hijacked my body. I'm still a little frightened, ngl.
hope you liked it! ♥ btw all those samcedes hints? TOTALLY INTENTIONAL
Title: All Your Midday Prayers
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine + Sam
Spoilers: Up to 2x19, “Rumours”
Warnings: Foul language, homophobia, gratuitous Disney
Word Count: 9,000+
Notes: Title stolen from "Friend Like Me" from Aladdin. Also, I guessed on Sam's little brother's age, because whatever. He looks like a first grader to me. :)
Summary: When Kurt and Blaine offer to babysit Sam’s brother and sister, it hits Sam a little harder than he expected. And not in a good way. Based loosely on this prompt from the glee_angst_meme
When Kurt first offers to babysit Sam’s brother and sister, it isn’t so much about Kurt being a good friend as it is about Blaine getting a new hobby.
“I swear,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes, “Blaine needs kids. It’s not really because he’s that responsible - don’t worry, though, I’m very good at the details - but more because he has the attention span of a five-year-old and really likes Disney. It’s painful.”
“Look,” Sam protests, hating how the very idea of free babysitting for Stevie and Stacy thrilled him. He isn’t that guy.
But Kurt isn’t looking at him with a pitying expression this time, like that night at Dalton; instead, he rolls his eyes and cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “No, seriously, Sam, I need him to get this crazy urge to marathon Disney out of his system. I mean, I love Little Mermaid just as much as the next gay, but he gets way too excited.”
Sam can’t help cracking a smile at Kurt’s overly flamboyant gestures - and based on Kurt’s accompanying smirk, they are totally deliberate - and he manages to reply, “I guess… if it really isn’t a problem-”
“Definitely not,” Kurt answers immediately, his accompanying smile both broad and authentic. Then he leans a bit forward, like he’s sharing a secret, and adds, “And thank you.”
--
In all honesty, Sam isn’t too surprised when he gets home after a double shift of pizza delivery to find Stacy hanging off of every word Blaine says.
(And hanging off his arm, but Stacy’s always been kind of a monkey.)
Because the thing is, Blaine is a charming guy. He practically radiates it. And Sam knows how much his little sister loves making new friends. She’s always been the friendliest of their family, while Stevie is the shy one.
“But then! Mulan gets to dress up like the warriors and go fight the bad guys!” Blaine is saying when Sam steps through the door, standing on the bed like he’s about to sword fight an imaginary villain.
“And then she makes them go boom!” Stacy shouts, flinging her arms up in the air and bouncing on the mattress. She falls back and Blaine starts laughing.
Sam shakes his head, snickering, before turning to look at Kurt, who is watching the entire display with a look of fond bemusement. Weirdly, Stevie is standing right next to him, grinning as he clutches his school workbook to his chest. Sam is kind of surprised he isn’t playing with Stacy and Blaine too, but figures it must be his shyness kicking in.
“Hey guys,” Sam greets everyone over Stacy’s chatter. “I brought pizza-”
The rest of his statement is lost to a cacophony of excited shrieks as Stacy and Stevie abandon their posts, and Sam exchanges grins with Kurt as Blaine rescues the pizzas from being crushed in the inevitable dog pile.
--
After the first time, Sam kind of expects Kurt to consider his good deed for the month finished and move on, but then he gets a text message in the middle of U.S. History class.
So Blaine just got Tangled. And he’s trying to learn to play the songs on kazoo.
Sam stares at the message for a moment, amused, before replying, have fun w/that
Barely a minute later, his phone vibrates, and Sam glances underneath his desk to see Kurt’s response.
PLEASE tell me you need us to babysit this weekend
Before Sam can react, another text comes in.
seriously, I MIGHT KILL HIM
It’s an act of magic that keeps Sam from outright laughing in the middle of class, but he manages to stifle his reaction as he types out his agreement.
--
Sam gets home from work without pizzas, because halfway through his shift Kurt texted something about a picnic in the park, so he’s not terribly surprised when no one is home. The closest park is a block away, even though it’s barely eligible for the title; there’s a swingset and an old jungle gym, surrounded by a small lot of patchy grass, but it’s something, at least.
When he gets to the playground, Sam is surprised to see Kurt hanging by his knees from the top bars on the jungle gym. Stevie is clinging to the bar beside him with his hands, and he’s grinning excitedly and jabbering on about something Sam can’t quite make out.
“Sammy!” calls Stacy, and Sam turns.
Blaine appears out of nowhere with Stacy on his back, greeting, “You have tomato sauce on your shirt.”
“You look like spaghetti!” Stacy laughs, reaching out to get picked up anyway. She clings to Sam like she’s trying to see how hard she can hug, and for a brief moment, Sam forgets how exhausted he is.
Over her shoulder, Stevie still hasn’t noticed Sam’s arrival, his eyes locked brightly on Kurt.
“Because, you see, in school yesterday? We had to climb the ropes! And I got all the way to the top! I was the only one!”
“Seriously?” Kurt asks. He sounds completely normal, as if he wasn’t hanging upside-down by his knees and talking to a seven-year-old, and Sam’s kind of impressed by his ability to do that. “I could never get passed the first mark - that’s the red one, right? Yeah, I wasn’t as good at climbing as you are.”
“I bet you could make it now, though!” Stevie replies, in the same voice he used to use whenever Sam pulled out his guitar and played along with the classic rock records their dad owned. For some reason, this realization makes Sam’s smile dim just a little, feeling a slow curl of something unpleasant in his chest.
“Maybe,” Kurt allows, glancing past Stevie and catching Sam’s eye. He grins sheepishly, though whether it’s directed at his past weakness or his current acrobatics, Sam isn’t sure.
Sam can’t help but share his amusement, smile returning anew, and he brushes away the twinge in his heart. He’s probably just tired.
--
It seems like the second time is the charm, in this case, because Kurt and Blaine leave that night with a casual, “See you guys next weekend!” called to Stacy and Stevie, and there is just no way Sam can disagree when his brother and sister are so excited like that.
Stevie doesn’t stop talking about Kurt all night, even after Stacy’s already dropped off to sleep and he should be getting ready for bed.
“Did you know that Kurt can count to ten in five different languages?” Stevie says as he’s putting his clothes in the hamper and changing into his pajamas.
“Really? Cool,” Sam replies, puzzling over his math homework under the dim overhead light. His parents are out by the car, smoking and talking over financial stuff, so he’s trying to concurrently entertain Stevie and finish algebra. It isn’t working out so well now that Stevie has a new best friend.
“And he owns a really big truck!” Stevie says through a mouthful of toothpaste. Sam rolls his eyes and grabs a tissue, wiping away some of the excess paste as it falls off the brush onto Stevie’s shirt. Stevie barely pauses long enough to make a face at him before continuing, “He knows how it works and everything!”
“That’s nice, Stevie,” comments Sam as he tries to solve for x, to no avail.
“And he showed me and Stacy how to do cheerleading moves today,” Stevie gushes, though he manages to keep it to a whisper now that he’s crawling into bed beside Stacy, who is curled up next to her worn stuffed purple elephant. Sam has given up on his homework for now, too tired to focus on the differences between 6 and 9 and 2 and 5 for long enough to get the math correct. Instead, he tucks Stevie into bed, listening to, “Kurt said I could kick even better than Blaine, and Stacy was too small to do it right, but I did it really well.”
“Go to bed, Stevie,” Sam directs, managing a soft smile despite the sour taste in his mouth. He glares at his math homework and gives up on it, deciding to watch his old VHS of A New Hope on low volume instead.
--
In Glee Club the next week, Sam glances down at his phone and sees a text from Kurt. Hey, the dollar theater is showing Megamind on Saturday. Are S&S old enough for that?
Sam makes a face without meaning to.
“What’s up your butt, white boy?” Mercedes asks, sitting down next to him and not being subtle at all about trying to read his texts over his shoulder.
“Nothing, just a-,” Sam begins, before remembering that Mercedes probably doesn’t know about his arrangement with Kurt, since Sam had pleaded with him not to spread it around. He waves her off. “It’s nothing.”
Mercedes eyes him like she doesn’t believe it, but then Tina runs up, giggling excitedly about choosing her song for the benefit concert, and it’s enough to distract her.
Grateful for the save, Sam looks back at the screen on his cell phone. Kurt’s text shines back at him accusingly, waiting for a response.
Finally, he laboriously types out, dont worry theyre cool do you need $
It’s the dollar theater, I think we’ll manage, Kurt sends back.
Sam grits his teeth, because he knows that Kurt doesn’t mean it to sound dismissive, but he can’t help but think about working eight-hour shifts smelling like pizza and how he isn’t that guy, and he wastes most of Glee Club glaring at the piano.
--
When Sam gets back from work on Saturday night, he brings home a box of donuts, because they did a trade with the workers at the donut shop across the street. He lucked out and was on shift with Tiffany, who refused on principle to eat refined sugars and spent most of their shift lecturing Sam why he shouldn’t either. He considers it a victory, though, because all he had to do was pretend to listen and he got the whole box of donuts out of the deal.
He gets home, prepared to hold off Stacy and Stevie from the treats until they’ve eaten something nominally healthy, but everyone is distracted when he walks through the door.
Stevie is wearing all black, gesturing at Blaine with a pinched expression on his face, like he’s trying to imitate royalty. “And that’s where you’re wrong, Metroman!” he declares, saying the name like it’s one word.
Blaine looks torn between snickering at the haughty tone and playing his part, and he doesn’t really manage to be convincing in his booming reply of, “Justice is never wrong, Megamind!”
Sam looks over at the bed, where Stacy is bouncing excitedly behind Stevie with a fish sticker on her forehead. Kurt is seated primly at the edge of the mattress, legs crossed, with Stacy’s bright pink feather boa draped around his neck. It looks oddly fitting.
“Uhh,” Sam cuts in, staring at the scene in confusion.
“Sam!” Stacy shrieks, launching herself from the bed and landing heavily against Sam’s waist. He staggers, but manages to keep a firm grip on the box of donuts.
“Hey,” Blaine says, grinning at him. He has a towel pinned to his t-shirt like a cape, Sam just notices, and he raises an eyebrow at the sight.
“We’re playing Megamind!” Stevie shouts, clearly still enthralled. “I’m gonna fight Metroman, and be all smart and save Roxanne Richie!”
Snickering at the game, Sam looks down at Stacy and says, “Oh, he’s going to save you then?”
“Nope, that’s me,” Kurt corrects, waving from his position on the bed.
“I’m playing Minion!” Stacy says, pointing at the fish sticker on her forehead. “See? I’m a fish!”
“Kurt’s playing Roxanne ‘cause he’s prettiest,” Stevie states, looking defiant. From the way Blaine’s choking back laughter and Kurt’s rolling his eyes, they’ve already discussed this development, and Sam suddenly feels out of the loop.
“But-,” Sam begins, almost continuing with Kurt’s not a girl before catching himself. Because Kurt doesn’t seem to have a problem with playacting, and based on the looks he and Blaine are exchanging, they both find the entire thing hilarious. But Sam can’t help the cold feeling in his stomach as he watches Stevie grin up at Kurt with an adoring expression on his face, and he kind of hates himself for it. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Sam manages to say, “Ah, never mind. Can I play with you guys?”
“Yeah, Sam, come play!” Stacy cheers.
“You can be the bad guy!” Stevie says, and before Sam can react, he’s turning to Kurt for approval. “Sam can be the bad guy, right?”
Kurt meets Sam’s eyes over Stevie’s head, and Sam gets the impression he’s asking permission to involve Sam in their playtime. And even though Sam knows Kurt’s trying to be kind and give Sam some time off to rest after work, he can’t help but get annoyed. Stevie doesn't need permission to play with his older brother.
“Sure,” Sam spits out before Kurt can say anything, somehow managing to make it sound less irritable than he feels. “I’ll be the bad guy.”
The donuts sit unnoticed on the table until their parents get home, and by that point, Sam feels too tired to want them anymore.
--
The next weekend, Sam gets off work early because the delivery car breaks down, which is a mixed blessing. It sucks because he doesn’t get as many tips as he’s used to, but the past week at school has been kind of a nightmare of midterms and drama, and he could really use a nap.
So he’s pleased to see the lights off when he gets home; the television is on and Kurt and Blaine are sitting next to each other, talking quietly. Stacy is curled at the foot of the bed, face pressed into her sweater, and Stevie is tucked as tightly as he can manage under Kurt’s arm, watching the animated movie on-screen with half-lidded eyes.
“Hey guys,” Sam says as he opens the door, making sure to stay quiet for Stacy’s sake. Both Kurt and Blaine nod at him, and Stevie blinks tiredly before managing a small wave. He adds by way of explanation, “Got off early. How were things?”
“Good,” Blaine answers. “We’re midway through Aladdin.”
“Cool,” murmurs Sam vaguely, eyeing the second bed with the sort of longing he usually only feels after a hard-won football game. He can’t even be bothered to change his shirt before he collapses into it like he’s a puppet with cut strings.
The jubilant voice of Robin Williams sings on the television for a few minutes before Kurt asks, “So, long day, I take it?”
“Ugh,” Sam groans into the comforter. “Long week.”
“I hear that,” concurs Blaine with a soft laugh. “McKinley had midterms, right? Isn’t that what Mercedes was saying?”
“Yeah,” Sam confirms, and thinking about Mercedes reminds Sam of Glee Club, which prompts him to say, “Actually, hey. I heard a crazy rumor you’re coming back, Kurt. That true?”
Kurt hesitates just long enough for Sam to figure out that it’s a touchy subject, but before he can say anything, Stevie excitedly interrupts, “You’re coming back to Sam’s school? Does that mean you can come over all the time?”
“Um-,” Kurt begins, sounding awkward, and Blaine starts laughing, though from the muffled sound, he’s burying his face into Kurt’s shoulder in an effort to control himself. Sam frowns into pillow, feeling irritation spring up from out of nowhere, and he barely registers Kurt replying, “I don’t know if I’m coming back yet. I have to go to a meeting first, and then we’ll see.”
“If you come back, you should totally come play more often!” Stevie says, sounding even more enthusiastic. “We could play X-men, and I could be Wolverine-”
“Stevie!” Sam snaps, looking up. By the way they all sharply turn to face him, he isn’t successful in keeping his annoyance out of his tone, and he sighs. Taking a breath, he quietly adds, “Stacy’s still sleeping, Stevie, you need to keep your voice down.”
Stevie accepts the critique for what it is, lowering his voice and continuing his ecstatic whispers toward Kurt. Blaine, however, is eyeing Sam with a concerned frown, like he thinks there might be a problem, and Sam kind of wishes he had just stayed at work.
Sam just sighs and settles back on the bed, facing away from them this time. He’s been pissed off at Santana all week for dumping him like that in front of everyone, and it kind of sucks out any joy he might have felt about Kurt returning.
Anger burning low in his stomach, he doesn’t manage to get to sleep until Kurt and Blaine leave.
--
Kurt comes back to McKinley in a glorious rush of fashion and singing. Sam’s irritation with Santana must be fleeting, because he’s as moved as everyone when Blaine shows up to serenade Kurt, and he does his best to watch out for any antagonism in the hallways. The sight of Santana clinging onto Karofsky’s hand in the hallway later on barely tarnishes his good mood.
The next morning, however, Stevie is whining and fighting with their mom, crying something about not wanting to change his sweater from yesterday, and Sam’s forced to intervene when the argument nearly makes their mother late for her interview.
“What’s wrong with this shirt?” Sam asks, holding up a plaid button-down that Stevie used to love.
“Kurt says only truckers wear plaid!” Stevie replies, clinging to the faded blue sweater like a lifeline.
“What?” queries Sam. Baffled, he tacks on, “…so?”
“I don’t wanna be a trucker.”
“Okay,” Sam says, frowning. He grabs another sweater, which is dark red this time. “Well, how about-”
“No,” Stevie whines, making a face. “It’s not blue!”
“…what?”
“Kurt says blue is my color!”
Finally, Sam manages to find a navy blue button-down that Stevie will accept, replacing the stained sweater from the day before. Frustrated by the whole ordeal, he only barely manages to make it to first period, endlessly grateful that he found the time for his homework last night.
He corners Kurt in the lunch room after fourth period, not even bothering to grab a tray before sidling up next to him in line.
“Dude, what’s up with giving my little brother fashion advice?” Sam asks, trying to make it sound like a joke. It sounds more like he’s complaining than anything else, but it’s not like Sam can take it back.
“What?” Kurt looks honestly confused. “I didn’t give him fashion advice.”
“He refused to change his shirt this morning because he says that you told him plaid shirts were stupid and he looks good in blue,” Sam recalls dutifully, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh,” says Kurt, as though he can’t decide whether to be bewildered or amused. “I didn’t - I mean, I was just talking. The plaid thing was to Blaine, actually.” He pauses, looking a little pleased, and adds, “I didn’t think he was actually listening to me. That’s kind of cute.”
“Not at seven in the morning, it’s not,” Sam corrects, trying to keep from sounding bitter. “And Stevie only has like, two blue shirts, dude.”
“Sorry,” Kurt says, reaching for a packaged salad. “If you want, I’ll tell him about all the other colors he can rock on Saturday.”
Part of Sam wants to say no, just because Kurt makes their whole arrangement sound so casual, like Sam’s not totally mooching off of him and Blaine for babysitting services, but there’s no way he’d be able to explain to his family why Kurt and Blaine suddenly aren’t around.
“Sure,” he says, like he’s giving up.
“Speaking of fashion,” Kurt says after he pays for his salad, “Since I’ve been back, you’ve worn that shirt twice. And I’m pretty sure you’ve been wearing those jeans all week.”
Sam can physically feel his hackles rising, but Kurt’s looking at him with a strange, inspired expression, and it’s not really what he was expecting. So he counters, “What’s your point?”
“I don’t know if you know this about me, Sam, but makeovers are my crack,” Kurt explains as he sits down at a mostly empty circular table. Sam stands nearby awkwardly as Kurt continues, “Seriously, it’s sad. But not as sad as your shirt. I have some stuff in my closet that would probably fit you - my grandparents like to send me stuff for Christmas and they haven’t actually seen me in three years, so it’s usually a size too big, but my grandmother has remarkably good taste for a woman alive during World War 2, so the stuff isn’t hideous, just ill-fitting. And I have a few jackets that are out of style and are just taking up room, so I wouldn’t mind going through and picking out the ones that would look good on you.”
Sam just stares, not quite sure how to take the offer. Because on the surface, he knows it’s charity, and he wants to just refuse and move on; but Kurt’s watching him with this half-nervous, half-excited expression that makes Sam think that maybe Kurt really does just want to give him a makeover. It’s not like that would be strange or anything, given that he’s, well, Kurt.
Besides, the dark, traitorous side of his mind whispers, he does need new clothes.
“Um,” Sam mutters, glancing around to make sure no one hears him. Being poor sucks, even if Kurt seems determined to make the most of it. “Sure. You can stop by whenever, I guess - I don’t usually work on weeknights, so…”
“I’ll come by tonight,” Kurt says in a rush, and he actually claps his hands, he’s so excited by the prospect. Sam immediately feels less self-conscious, though his concern over Kurt’s obsessive tendencies continues unabated. He wonders if Kurt’s going to make lists or something.
“Cool, I guess,” Sam replies, grinning. “Well, see you in Glee.”
Kurt waves absently, and good lord, he really does pull out a pencil and a notebook. Sam leaves before he gets dragged into the deliberation process, shaking his head in confusion.
--
Glee, unfortunately, is like a train wreck.
The school’s new paper puts out its first issue, and everyone acts like they’ve never seen a copy of The Enquirer before. Sam knows what the article is talking about, and so does Quinn. But he doesn’t really want to air his dirty laundry out for the entire Glee Club to see, not after Santana already dumped him in front of everyone without so much as a “It’s not you, it’s me.” He especially doesn’t want to deal with Finn, who looks like he’s two seconds away from hitting someone. Specifically, hitting Sam.
Finn storms out before things get too out of hand, but the rest of rehearsal is a complete mess, and Sam makes up an excuse to leave early. He thinks he might be able to get his homework at least partially done before Kurt shows up, but not if he tries to suffer through the sea of whispers and aborted glances that Glee has turned into.
When Kurt knocks on the door, Stevie practically trips over the bed trying to be the first to reach it. Sam only barely manages to stop him from yanking it open, hissing at him to calm down, already before pulling it open himself.
“Kurt!” Stevie says brightly before Sam can say anything, launching himself at Kurt’s waist. Given that Kurt’s carrying a large box of clothes, it’s a tricky maneuver, but Kurt manages to lift the box enough to let Stevie hug him without dropping anything.
“Hey, Stevie,” greets Kurt, grinning at Sam with a slight roll of his eyes, his expression all isn’t that cute?; Sam gives him a close-lipped smile in return.
After two minutes of stern words, Sam manages to get Stevie to sit down at the table, with the promise that Kurt will talk to him when they’re finished. Kurt smiles indulgently at Stevie, and then sets the box down, saying, “I’ve gone through the clothes already and I think everything in here should be suitable for both your coloring and your general… sense of fashion.”
He says the last bit with a wince, and Sam considers being offended before he remembers that he’s actually heard Kurt say much, much worse when bad clothing is involved. In fact, given that knowledge, Sam feels a little pleased that a small wince is all Kurt can muster up regarding his style.
As Sam starts looking through the box, Kurt glances around and asks, “Oh, hey, where’s Stacy?”
“Quinn offered to take her on a play date,” Sam replies, holding up a dark green pullover to see if it’ll fit him. “I think she’s trying to apologize for her boyfriend picking a fight.”
“Yeah, Finn can be a little… spontaneous,” Kurt murmurs. “I tried to tell him that he’s reading into it, but he’s like a dog with a bone sometimes. He’s so convinced he’s right that he doesn’t even want to hear anything else.”
“Maybe he just feels guilty,” Sam mutters. Kurt raises his eyebrows at him, registering the tone, and Sam feels the need to defend, “Hey, I didn’t try to beat him up when he actually stole my girlfriend, so I think I have the right to be kind of pissed that he’s getting all righteously angry about it.”
“Oh, I’m not disagreeing. Finn’s acting like a complete buffoon,” Kurt says, waving a hand like he’s clearing the air. “I just thought that you were the one who broke up with Quinn. To date Santana?”
“That’s only because Quinn cheated on me with Finn,” Sam replies, deliberately trying not to think about Santana and that whole mess.
“Ah, right,” accepts Kurt, nodding. He looks like he’s considering the matter for a moment before saying, “Finn’s a giant hypocrite, isn’t he?”
“Yep. And an asshole.”
“He’s my brother,” Kurt says simply. “I can only say that to his face now.”
Sam looks up at Kurt and grins, feeling lighthearted in a way he hasn’t since he first heard about that stupid paper. Because it’s not Kurt’s fault that Finn decided to act like a jackass, and he’s the only one besides Quinn who has actively taken sides on the whole matter. It almost makes the whole awful situation seem less irritating.
“Sam?” calls Stevie’s voice from the table. He’s clutching a red crayon and staring at them with wide eyes, clearly wanting to go against Sam’s orders to stay put. “Can Kurt come play with me now?”
And suddenly, the warm feeling is gone, and Sam just feels empty inside. He hates feeling like this - because even if Kurt’s the cause of his annoyance, he’s figured out by now that it’s not Kurt; it’s the way that Stevie looks at Kurt, like he thinks that Kurt is some kind of superhero.
Sam hates it. He hates that Stevie has this stupid little crush on the guy Sam keeps mooching off of, because it makes it that much harder for Sam to stand his ground and finally tell Kurt that they don’t need his charity. Because they do need the charity and Sam gets that, but in the back of his mind, he just keeps tallying up all the debt he’ll owe to Kurt once this whole mess is over.
The worst part is that Kurt doesn’t seem to get it; he keeps acting like this really is just some big favor between friends, no big deal. But Sam isn’t stupid. Eventually, the other shoe is going to drop.
“No, Stevie,” Sam says, before Kurt can respond. “Kurt needs to get home. He has homework tonight too.” He turns to Kurt, shrugging apologetically, and says, “I’ll go through this stuff later, okay?”
“Sure,” replies Kurt. He looks over at Stevie and says, “If your hands are clean, I’ll take a goodnight hug.”
“I drew you a picture!” Stevie cries, taking Kurt’s offer as permission to leave the table, and he practically lunges toward the older boy. There’s a piece of white paper clutched in his hand, and on top Sam can see To kURT love STeVie written out in big red letters.
Sam grimaces, feeling his throat tighten unpleasantly, and he says, “I’ll wait outside.”
It’s stupid and he knows it, but Sam still has to talk himself out of being irritated with Kurt.
Especially when Kurt ducks out after him, all open smiles and “Take care of yourself, Sam,” and makes Sam feel like the jackass this time.
--
In many ways, the whole rumor about Sam hooking up with Quinn and Kurt is kind of a relief.
Because Quinn is suddenly a lot more available to hang out with Stacy and Stevie now that she’s in a fight with Finn, and even though they’re broken up, Sam can’t deny that he still likes her. She’s utterly sweet and Stacy adores her because she’ll make games out of painting nails and styling hair. Stevie doesn’t usually play with them, but he's familiar enough with Quinn that he doesn’t hide behind his shyness.
As for the Kurt part of the rumor, it really only makes Quinn that much more defensive of him. Sam isn’t sure whose reputation she’s trying to protect, exactly, but her steadfast determination on the matter is comforting nonetheless.
Kurt seems to be taking the whole thing in stride, not bothering to say a word about any of the rumors, much less the ones involving him. Sam knows that he’s complained to Blaine about it - he got a text from Blaine in English class that jokes, so apparently you’re hooking up w/my bf? that’s hot, which nearly gets Sam kicked out of class, he laughs so hard - but other than that, Kurt doesn’t bother to correct anyone.
If he just ignores the constant stares and whispers from the kids in Glee Club, Sam finds himself oddly at ease with the whole thing. Because rumors are just rumors, and he figures it’ll blow over eventually, once Finn gets his head out of his ass. Besides, Kurt’s taken to avoiding him at school, to help quell the whispers, and Sam finds it a lot easier to forget about the free clothes and babysitting when he’s not constantly seeing Kurt.
But toward the end of the week, Sam comes face-to-face with the real reason why Kurt keeps avoiding him.
He forgets his bag in the choir room and doubles back for it, cursing himself for being forgetful on the night that his mom needs him to cook dinner for everyone. By the time he finds it, the halls of the school are mostly empty, and Sam’s running through his short mental list of recipes he’s capable of making.
Sam turns the corner near the gym and nearly runs into Kurt, who is standing at his locker with a spray bottle of blue liquid and an old rag clutched in his hand. He’s staring at his locker with the same tight expression on his face that Sam remembers from last semester, like he’s halfway close to crying.
On his locker, someone has scrawled out COCKSUCKER in bold, permanent marker.
“Oh, god,” Sam says, staring at the graffiti. “Kurt, I’m so sorry -”
“Don't be,” Kurt replies immediately, like he’s expecting it. He doesn’t turn to face Sam, and instead steps forward to spray the locker with the liquid. “This kind of thing isn’t that hard to get out, actually, now that I know where the janitor keeps the cleaner.”
“But,” Sam protests, warring over his desire to help and his need to get home. He waves his hands uselessly, continuing, “If it wasn’t for that stupid rumor-”
“If it wasn’t for that stupid rumor, they’d still do it, Sam,” Kurt interrupts him, sounding rather defeated about the whole thing. He’s scrubbing in neat little circles, like he’s done this before. “I’m just glad they’ve left you alone. I think maybe everyone’s a little worried you’ll beat them up.”
He looks over at Sam for the first time, giving him a small, conspiring grin, like Sam taking on Karofsky was some kind of inside joke. Sam can’t bring himself to smile back, too busy staring at the smeared words on the locker and feeling roughly six inches tall.
“I,” Sam begins helplessly. “I have to-”
“Go home, Sam,” Kurt tells him, turning away and spraying his locker with another coat of cleaner. “Don’t worry, I’m used to this. And hey,” he adds with forced cheer, “at least this time no one hit me.”
It’s possibly the most depressing thing Sam’s heard since his dad told him about losing his job, and he has no idea what to say to it.
So he manages a quick goodbye and heads home, unable to get Kurt’s voice out of his head.
--
After the encounter by the lockers, there’s a noticeable change in Sam’s interactions with Kurt. More specifically, there stop being any interactions at all, because Sam starts avoiding Kurt right back.
He doesn’t really intend to. It’s not like Sam wakes up the day after their conversation with a deliberate plan to stop talking with Kurt or anything like that. But when he gets to school the next day, he catches sight of Kurt standing by his now-clean locker, and he feels like a horrible person all over again.
Because Sam still gets annoyed when Stevie asks after Kurt, all wide eyes and smiles, and he hates how his parents are so grateful to Kurt and Blaine for watching after Stacy and Stevie for the past few Saturdays. He can’t stand the way it makes him feel, like those eight-hour shifts at the pizzeria aren’t enough to offset their family’s money problem, like he’s not enough to take care of his own siblings.
Sam can’t stop his frustrations, but every time he sees Kurt now, all he can see is the smeared marker on Kurt’s locker, or the excited grin on his face when Sam agreed to accept his old clothes, and it just makes Sam think that he should feel grateful.
But he doesn’t. He just feels angry and guilty about it all, and Kurt’s the only target he has.
So Sam avoids him.
At first, Kurt doesn’t seem to notice. Because Kurt started avoiding him first and he keeps on doing that, lest the bullies get bored with their old target and start harassing Sam for more than just “whoring it out.” But then the rumor breaks in Glee, and the whole story of Sam’s family troubles comes out, exhausting and belittling in its honesty.
Suddenly, Sam’s gone from the “bisexual slut” to the “homeless kid”, which is somehow less interesting and way more humiliating, and the whispers slowly fade away.
Sam drops his shift at work that Saturday, choosing to spend the day watching a Star Wars marathon with Stacy and Stevie, and Kurt seems to understand that he needs some time to deal with everyone finding out. Rachel and Finn come over, practically falling over each other in their efforts to apologize, and Sam appreciates the gesture but still hates the way they stare at him with stark pity in their eyes.
Since Glee Club forced his hand, practically everyone’s been watching him like that. Only Quinn and Kurt treat him normally, and Sam can’t even look at Kurt without feeling a horrible mix of irritation and guilt anymore.
He doesn’t tell Rachel and Finn about Kurt and Blaine babysitting for his siblings because he’s already decided to call it off. It’s just too much. He can’t deal with everyone’s pity on top of Kurt’s blatant charity, not when everyone else is so freaking grateful and all Sam can feel is shame.
On Sunday night, Sam sends Kurt a short message that takes him over an hour to type.
hey I dont need you to babysit anymore. tell Blaine ok? thx
Ten minutes later, Kurt replies with, Why? Is everything okay?
Sam doesn’t respond.
--
It’s harder to avoid Kurt the next week at school, but it doesn’t take long for Kurt to realize that Sam doesn’t want to deal with him. He tries to say something a couple times on Monday, but by Tuesday, Kurt just looks at Sam with this expression of hurt confusion, not even trying to approach him.
By Wednesday, Kurt walks by Sam without a glance, eyes focused straight ahead, and Sam practically breathes a sigh of relief. Kurt’s treating him just like he treats all the guys in Glee Club: distant and disdainful. It feels normal, and in turn, Sam can nearly forget the ways he took advantage of Kurt’s generosity, and how much he still really owes him and Blaine for all their help.
He tells his parents that Kurt and Blaine are busy with school, so they won’t be able to watch Stacy and Stevie on Saturdays anymore. His mom and dad are upset but understanding, and they talk in bright tones about how they’ll just have to coordinate their schedules a little better.
Somehow, lying to his parents makes him feel less guilty than lying to Kurt, and Sam doesn’t quite know what to think about that.
Unfortunately for Sam, while he is concocting his plan to avoid Kurt, he forgets to take Stevie into account.
“What do you mean, Kurt can’t come play anymore?” Stevie cries, eyes growing impossibly wide. He looks like someone just told him that Santa wasn’t ever coming for Christmas again, and Sam feels like absolute shit when Stevie’s lower lip starts to shake. “We were gonna play X-men.”
“I - I know you were, Stevie, but Kurt and Blaine are really busy with school and-”
The excuse that worked so well with his parents doesn’t seem to have any effect on Stevie, and he spends the rest of the night alternatively pouting and glaring at Sam, like he knows it’s all Sam’s fault.
Sam grits his teeth and does his homework on the porch.
--
Stevie’s still mad on Friday, when Quinn offers to drive them to the mall so Stacy and Stevie can play in the indoor playground by Sears.
“Why can’t Kurt come to the playground with us?” he mutters irritably when Quinn shows up, glaring balefully at her.
Quinn raises an eyebrow at Sam, clearly intrigued by this development, and Sam realizes that he forgot to tell Quinn about the whole situation. He shakes his head at her and busies Stevie in getting his backpack on. By the time they get out to the car, Stevie has dropped the question, but he’s clearly still cranky. Quinn buys them all ice cream cones once they get to the mall, and it distracts Stevie enough for him to get excited about the playground.
Once they arrive, Sam and Quinn sit down beside an entire collection of mothers and fathers, waiting patiently while all the kids run around happily inside the massive, multi-colored fort.
“So,” Quinn says, taking a tiny lick of her ice cream. “Stevie knows Kurt?”
Sam sighs, shoulders slumping. “I knew you were going to ask me about that.”
“Yep. So spill.”
He looks over at Quinn, who is eyeing him with the same evaluating stare that she had on their first date. It’s mesmerizing, really. Sam feels like he’s being judged, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not. When they were dating, Quinn’s attention made Sam feel special, like he was worthy of holding her gaze; now, it just makes him feel overexposed.
Still, he knows Quinn well enough to figure out when she’s willing to back off, and now isn’t one of those times. So he runs his hands through his hair - too damn long, but haircuts are a luxury now - and he tells her everything.
By the time he gets through the entire story, including how he kept getting annoyed with Kurt for no reason, Quinn’s finished her ice cream and is dabbing her lips daintily with a paper napkin. Her eyes narrow at the story of the locker, giving Sam the impression that Finn’s going to get stern orders to investigate that, but she doesn’t interrupt.
“I just don’t know what to do,” Sam finally finishes, making a small gesture toward the playground, where he can see Stevie leading Stacy through a collection of plastic tunnels. “Stevie’s been mad at me all week, and what can I tell him? ‘Sorry, but I can’t deal with Kurt right now?’ He’s acting like I broke his toys or something.”
“Or something,” Quinn quotes back, arching one eyebrow gracefully.
Sam looks over at her, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on, Sam,” says Quinn, rolling her eyes. “Stevie has a crush. It’s cute. Yeah, it’s kind of weird that he’s crushing on Kurt, but he’s seven. A lot of little kids start to hero worship someone outside their family when they’re young; it’s nothing new. It kind of reminds me of the crush I had on my Sunday School teacher, actually. My mom was a little afraid I’d try to go live with her.”
“This isn’t about Stevie-,” Sam protests, but Quinn raises a hand in front of his face.
“I’m not finished,” she says primly, narrowing her eyes at him. “And I think it is about Stevie. You’re jealous, Sam. Before all this happened, you were the big guy in Stevie’s life, and suddenly Kurt walks into the picture and Stevie can’t get enough of him. And yeah, the whole money issue is there, but I’ve offered to help out too, and you’re not mad at me, are you?”
“It’s different with you,” defends Sam, making a face. “You’re not around all the time like Kurt and Blaine are, and I dated you.”
Quinn shrugs. “According to all those rumors, you dated Kurt, too.”
“Not funny,” Sam mutters back at her, glaring.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, a little smile playing on her lips. “Watching everyone freak out was pretty amusing.”
“Yeah, and that part where they wrote slurs on Kurt’s locker? I’m sure he thought that was hilarious,” Sam snaps, his tone deadpan.
To her credit, Quinn looks chagrined by the comment, but then her lips purse and she shoots back, “Considering that’s the last time you spoke to him, how would you know how he feels about it?”
The air seems to crackle between them, and Sam doesn’t know what to say. He just stares at Quinn, not sure whether to argue back or apologize.
Quinn watches him right back, expression unchanging, but Sam doesn’t really expect her to back down.
“Sam! Quinn!” Stacy shouts, running up with Stevie just behind her, and Sam is saved from answering. He starts helping Stacy into her jacket, knowing it’s a cop out, but he just doesn’t want to deal with the judgment in Quinn’s eyes.
The rest of the night is lost in ushering everyone back home, and Quinn doesn’t bring up Kurt again.
--
The next day is Saturday, and Sam is doing his best to focus on delivering pizzas so he can forget about his conversation with Quinn.
So when the passenger door opens and Blaine climbs in without warning, Sam just thinks, of course. Really, he should be expecting it by this point.
“Blaine, I’m at work,” Sam protests immediately, glaring at him.
“I know,” replies Blaine, smiling in a ridiculously charming way. “I just figured I’d ride along for awhile.”
“You can’t just ride along for awhile,” Sam tells him, though in all honesty, he knows the owner doesn’t care as long as he gets the pizzas delivered on time. “I’m working,” he tries again.
“Just drive, Sam,” Blaine says casually, buckling his seatbelt. “The pizzas are going to get cold.”
Sam grits his teeth and puts the car into drive, waiting the entire time for Blaine to start lecturing him or something. But by the time he pulls on the highway, Blaine still hasn’t said anything; instead, he’s entertaining himself by staring out the window, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his knee like he’s working out steps to a song.
They get to the first house and Sam slams the door behind him when he goes to deliver the pie. When he gets back to the car, Blaine’s still there, though now he’s starting to fiddle with the radio.
“Okay, fine -- what?” Sam finally snaps, when they’re stopped at a stoplight and Blaine starts humming along with one of the songs on the alternative station he’s picked.
“Oh, you’re ready to talk to me now?” Blaine asks, and it would sound patronizing if he didn’t seem so encouraged by it.
“You never asked if I wanted to talk in the first place,” replies Sam, sounding petulant even to his ears.
“I figured I’d let you get used to my presence first.”
“…I’m not a dog, Blaine.”
Blaine grins at him, and he seriously winks before saying, “Whatever. It worked, right? We can talk now?”
“If you want to talk, I won’t stop you,” mutters Sam, preparing himself for another discussion on why he shouldn’t feel bad about accepting charity.
“That’s cool, I kind of have a whole bunch of stuff to say to you anyway,” Blaine says. “But first I have question. Why are you ignoring Kurt?”
Sam clenches his jaw, glancing away from the road for a brief moment to look at Blaine, who is looking a lot less smiley than before. Sam looks away before he makes eye contact, replying, “I’m not ignoring him-”
“Yes, you are,” Blaine cuts him off. “And you know what? That’s kind of a dick move. Because all Kurt ever did was have your back, and suddenly you’re treating him like crap? Just because - what, you’re afraid of the whole gay thing?”
That wasn’t something Sam was expecting, and he momentarily glances over at Blaine, honestly startled. “Wait, what? I don’t care that Kurt’s gay.”
“I didn’t think you did either, but according to Kurt, you freaked out and stopped talking to him after that rumor happened, so-”
“He was avoiding me too! He said he didn’t want me to get dragged into it-”
“Yeah, and I get that,” Blaine acknowledges, “but now that everything’s been cleared up, what’s your issue? Are you really that nervous about being called gay?”
Sam’s getting frustrated by the whole conversation, and he really can’t deal with this kind of interrogation and drive at the same time, so he pulls off to the side of the road. Once he’s parked, Sam turns to Blaine and repeats, “I already told you, I don’t care that Kurt’s gay. Or that you are. If I cared about that, do you really think I’d let you guys babysit my brother and sister? It’s not like I didn’t know you two were dating.”
Blaine stares back at him impassively, his face a mask. “So why are you avoiding Kurt, then?”
Sam doesn’t really know what to say. Because all the reasons he’s been spinning around in his mind sound stupid now that Blaine’s sitting right there, watching him, and Sam just knows that no matter what he says, Blaine isn’t going to accept it. Sam is friends with Kurt through Glee Club, but he’s friends with Blaine through Kurt, and Sam knows that anything he says won’t be good enough for Kurt’s boyfriend.
So he doesn’t say anything.
Blaine lets the silence reign for a few moments before his lips twitch downward, and he looks away. Then he says, “Fine. I’ll just talk, then.”
He pauses, like he collecting his thoughts, and asks, “Do you ever wonder why Kurt doesn’t hang out with any of the other guys in your Glee Club?”
Sam frowns, confused by the new turn to their conversation, and manages to murmur, “Uh-,” before Blaine cuts him off.
“It’s because, with the exception of that Artie kid, every single one of those guys has bullied him about being gay. And even though he and Artie get along okay, they don’t really share any interests,” Blaine explains. “Yeah, he and Finn are brothers now, but that doesn’t mean they hang out. Pretty much every guy in your club acts like Kurt’s a girl, and most of them used to taunt him.”
“What’s your point?” Sam asks. “I mean, yeah, that sucks, but - what does that have to do with anything?”
“Why do you think Kurt offered to help you out, Sam?” Blaine volleys back.
Sam blinks, frowning, and he says, “He said you really liked kids and had some weird obsession with Disney. I… didn’t really think about it.”
“Really?” Blaine says, sounding skeptical. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I do love Disney, and I’m great with kids - half-Filipino, so, you know-” Blaine shrugs and offers Sam a half-smile, like it’s a joke, but Sam doesn’t get it. Blaine continues, “But seriously, do you really think Kurt and I would spend every Saturday for a month babysitting your brother and sister just because I like Disney?”
It does sound ridiculous when Blaine puts it that way. Sam doesn’t really know what to say, and Blaine seems to get that, because he uses the moment to lean forward and pin Sam with an intense stare.
“Kurt wanted to be your friend, Sam,” Blaine says, like it’s obvious. “You’re the only straight guy at your guys’ entire stupid school that never treated him like crap because he’s gay, and he likes you. As a friend,” he tacks on, for clarification purposes. “And yeah, maybe he used your family’s money situation to do it, but it doesn’t change the fact that all Kurt wanted to do was be your friend. And the instant it got too hard, you shoved that back in his face.”
“It wasn’t about the gay thing!” Sam protests, spreading his arms wide. He feels a bit like a broken record.
Blaine’s stare doesn’t let up. “So what was it about, then?”
For a long moment, Sam maintains eye contact with Blaine, but soon he sighs, looking away and slumping in his seat. The belt digs into his hips but Sam just closes his eyes and ignores it.
“I’m just so freaking tired, Blaine,” he finally says. “And every time I look at Kurt, all I can think is how much I owe him. Because you guys babysat for me, and Kurt gave me his clothes, and when that whole rumor thing broke, some asshole graffiti’d his locker and he still didn’t say anything. And I’m just so frustrated because I’m working my ass off trying to make things cool for my family, and it’s just not enough.”
He opens his eyes, glancing over to see Blaine’s reaction, but the other boy’s face is a blank slate. The lack of response is encouragement enough for Sam, and he continues, “I know it’s stupid, but I really hate charity. And yeah, Kurt didn’t try to make me feel like I owe him, and I know that, but that doesn’t change the fact that I still do. I kept getting irritated every time he talked about watching Stacy and Stevie. And then he got bullied again because of me, on top of all that other crap he’s had to deal with, and I just felt like a jackass.”
Blaine is still silently watching him, eyes unreadable, and Sam fidgets with the strap of his seatbelt. With a sigh, he finishes, “Plus, Quinn thinks I’m jealous because Stevie has that ridiculous crush on him, and she’s probably right. She usually is.”
Sam looks away, staring at the digital clock on the dash of the car. If they don’t leave soon, his boss is probably going to yell at him, and it’s kind of depressing how little Sam cares.
Finally, Blaine says, “I guess I can see where you’re coming from, but that doesn't mean Kurt deserves being blown off like that. Friends help each other, Sam. It’s how things work. And all Kurt was trying to do was be your friend.”
Feeling miserable now, Sam manages to reply, “I know.”
“Maybe you could say something to him on Monday?” suggests Blaine, in a tone that makes it seem more like an order. “Because right now? Kurt thinks you’ve blown him off for no reason, just like all the other guys in your Glee Club. And I don’t think you understand how much that crap hurts.”
From his tone, Sam gets the impression that Blaine isn’t just talking about Kurt anymore, but he feels too spent to worry about it for long. Instead, he just nods. Then he turns the car back on, muttering, “If I don’t get back soon, my boss’ll be pissed.”
“That’s cool,” Blaine says, adjusting his seatbelt as he shifts around in his seat. “I should probably get home soon anyway.” He glances over at Sam, shooting him a closed-mouth grin, and says, “I’m glad we had this talk.”
“Hm,” Sam murmurs absently, still feeling a little lost in his thoughts. He does manage to ask, “Does Kurt even know you’re here?”
“Nah,” Blaine replies, looking a bit abashed. “But I figure I’ll tell him about it next week sometime.”
The implied after you talk to him goes unsaid, but Sam hears it anyway.
--
Sam spends most of Sunday composing a long e-mail detailing all his reasons for being annoyed with Kurt and why he knows he’s wrong. He ends the e-mail with effusive apologies and sad faces, and then deletes the entire thing because it’s stupid.
On Monday morning, he asks Mercedes where Kurt’s homeroom is and walks right up to Kurt’s desk, where Kurt is busy playing with his phone.
“Here,” Sam says, laying a piece of paper down on top of Kurt’s unopened notebook.
Kurt looks up at him, surprised, and then glances at the sheet of paper. There are hearts all over it, and a crayon drawing of two stick figures standing by a house. On the bottom, Stevie’s signed it in big purple letters.
“Stevie’s class was talking about holidays last week,” Sam says, “and he decided to make you a valentine because he never got to this year.” He points at the stick figures, who both have poorly drawn X’s on their chests, and explains, “Apparently, you guys are X-men.”
Kurt’s jaw tightens as he looks at the picture, and he seems to be fighting back a smile. When he looks back at up at Sam, however, the warmth is gone, and Kurt coolly says, “Thank you. For bringing it.”
“I’m sorry I acted like a jackass,” Sam says without thinking. All his excuses are swirling around in his head, but he ignores them, instead going with, “The past couple of months have really sucked, and I didn’t mean to act like it was your fault, but I guess I kind of did. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done to help me out, especially since you didn’t have to.”
“Oh,” Kurt says. He looks surprised that Sam’s apologizing, and Sam grits his teeth against the twisting guilt in his stomach. Then Kurt gives him a tentative smile, replying, “No problem. And, well, thanks. I guess.”
“Cool,” Sam says, uncomfortable with the tension he can still feel in the air. He shifts on his feet anxiously before adding, “Are you free on Friday night? Stevie really wants to show you this project he made with macaroni.”
Kurt blinks, and then holds up his phone. “I can ask Blaine if he wants to stop over. Are you picking up a shift on Friday?”
“No,” Sam answers, shrugging. “I just figured we could hang out, if you guys wanted. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen any good Disney movies.”
Kurt’s smile seems a lot more genuine this time, and Sam can’t help but grin back.
--
seriously guys, this thing WROTE ITSELF. I swear it hijacked my body. I'm still a little frightened, ngl.
hope you liked it! ♥ btw all those samcedes hints? TOTALLY INTENTIONAL