The Fine Line between Success and Failure (1.5/2)
***
R u awake? I need 2 get my schoolbag.
Mercedes’s answer was swift to come as always.
Knew i should have just left it in the choir room…sure, come over
“So what’s so important about that bag that couldn’t wait ‘til after 9 AM on a Saturday morning?”
Sam directed his most innocent smile at Mercedes, knowing there was a fifty-percent chance she had already glanced through the bag and seen there was strictly nothing essential in there. Surely enough, she didn’t even try to hand it to him, instead sighing and stepping aside to let him come in.
“I take it you needed to talk, and for some reason it had to be at dawn on a weekend.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, but I have work in two hours so…” Sam trailed off, entering the warmly-decorated foyer he remembered from Prom night a few months ago and shrugging off his jacket.
“It’s okay,” Mercedes said, waving his apology away as she led him into the empty kitchen and made him sit. “I have the feeling this will be more interesting than anything the Internet has to offer me this morning.”
“Thanks.” Sam said wryly.
“So what’s the matter? Tell Auntie Mercedes everything.”
“That’s a bit disturbing, actually.” Mercedes impatiently rolled her eyes at him, wordlessly asking him to get on with it already. “It’s just- Kurt, this song yesterday…he was singing for Blaine.”
He half-expected a sarcastic answer, but Mercedes just nodded.
“And he told me that this was his last try, and he sounded…well. I started asking myself if we had ever been right to want them to get back together. I mean, obviously I want Kurt to be happy, but…I’m wondering if Blaine was ever the best candidate for that.” He threw a side-glance at Mercedes, who seemed to be beaming for some reason. “So what do you think I should do?”
“Well, let’s see. My boy is a bit of a romantic so I wouldn’t try coming on too strong, but your body is definitively an asset - the hobbit aside, Kurt has a history of liking jocks. So you should be subtle, but wear some tighter-fitting clothing - I tend to forget you even have abs, use them a little! For the rest, well you know what he likes as well as I do, but-”
“Mercedes,” Sam finally cut in her enthusiastic rambling, more than a little bewildered. “What could you possibly be talking about?”
She frowned at him.
“I thought you wanted some advice?”
“Yeah, I do want some advice. I’d love to know if you think I should continue with our plan or if you agree Blaine isn’t right for Kurt, but why are you-” He stopped to try and find a way to phrase this that wasn’t too awkward, then renounced. “Apparently teaching me how to seduce Kurt?”
“Ooooo-kay. I thought you had gotten tired of paddling in the water, but apparently you’re still comfortable in your river in Egypt.”
Sam was definitively lost, and it must have shown on his face because Mercedes’s frown finally softened.
“It’s okay sweetie, you’ll probably get it soon. To answer your question, I think you’re right - Blaine was trying to suppress my boy’s individuality, and I can’t tolerate that. So just give up the plan, okay? But don’t tell Kurt you have yet.”
***
As he left Mercedes’s home, Sam decided to put the whole confusing conversation out of his head, determined to just forget about it.
Of course, it was all in vain; he couldn’t stop himself from remembering how Mercedes had so easily thought he was announcing he believed he was the right person for Kurt anymore than he could stay away from the countertenor for the time it took him to sort his thoughts out, even though it would have been the easiest option.
And so for the next two weeks Kurt and Sam continued to hang out together almost everyday, sometimes with Finn or Mercedes or Mike and Tina or even Santana and Brittany, sometimes by themselves, squabbling over whose turn it was to pick the movie, forcing the other to listen to their favourite music (and it was becoming harder by the day to remember a time when Sam hadn’t even heard of Singing in the Rain), scheming to make sure both Burt Hummel and Stacy Evans ate more vegetables, working on Sam’s frustration with their English assignments or reading comic books Kurt pretended to only enjoy because of all the spandex. And it was fun, like it had been from day one, genuine fun and warmth and friendship and all those things they made Disney movies out of - but sometimes it was just a bit more.
Just a bit more, because Sam found himself noticing the strangest things about his best friend, like the way his nose crinkled in concentration when he read something written in a foreign language, the way nothing calmed Kurt faster than choosing a random song and planning a dance routine for Tina, Brittany and him, the way he looked when he stubbornly refused to cry at Grey’s Anatomy sappiest and most tragic developments, the way the smiles he gave Finn and the ones he gave Sam were somehow completely different.
Still Sam’s strategic denial was working, and everything was going along pretty great, when Kurt decided he needed to talk to him.
“Hey Sam.” They were in front of the blond’s locker, which should have been told him something serious was coming - apparently, it was a McKinley High tradition to have every soul-searching discussion in front of the school lockers.
“Hey Kurt, so how did your French exam go?”
“Très bien, merci - c’était terriblement facile à vrai dire, comme toujours.” Sam didn’t understand a word of that, but he could get it had gone well. “But that’s actually not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Kurt then proceeded to hesitate a little, which was sufficiently unlike the other teen that Sam stopped foraging through his locker for his elusive History book and gave him his full attention. “You know, Finn of all people told me yesterday he hadn’t seen me this happy in a while.”
“Yeah, he was really worried about you when- well, a few weeks ago.” Sam offered, careful not to directly refer to Blaine. “He’s a good brother, even if he was a bit of a jerk last year.”
But Kurt just shook his head.
“No, that’s not what he meant. He said he hadn’t seen me be myself in this way in what felt like months. Since before Prom, or before Dalton, or perhaps before the whole Karofsky situation. He seemed weirdly happy about it, considering he hasn’t always had reasons to enjoy all aspects of my personality.” Kurt made a half-sheepish, half-amused face at this, but Sam didn’t chuckle in response like he normally would have, too busy staring at his friend and wondering where this was going.
“You know, with everything that happened with- with Blaine, this could have been one of the worst months of my high school life - but… but it really wasn’t. It was one of the best, actually. And, well, it doesn’t take a genius to know this is mainly thanks to you. So…thank you, Sam Evans, for everything, and especially for allowing me to find myself again.”
For all it hesitancies, it was a beautiful and heartfelt speech; Kurt was visibly a bit embarrassed, though he still looked at him in the eyes, and Sam would have loved to answer in a similarly eloquent and thoughtful way. It turned out that he really couldn’t, though, because even as the brunet expanded on how thankful he was to Sam for being his friend the blond found he wanted nothing more than to hug the smaller teen close, to whisper answering words of devotion in his ears, perhaps even to ki-
Oh shit.
It was his turn to speak so Sam garbled something about it being his pleasure, not really sure which words were tumbling out of his mouth. Kurt said something about needing to go to class, throwing him a large smile as he went, and Sam was left standing stock-still near his locker, blood rushing through his veins and feeling more than a little desperate because, because…
He was so fucked.
***
Sam pressed the phone tighter to his ear as it rang and rang, willing Mercedes to answer already.
“What is it with you and early-morning conversations, blondie? Some of us need a little time to prepare if they want to look properly fabulous, you know.”
Sam hadn’t slept much, and he actually thought she should be thankful he had waited until this late to call.
“You were right. Mercedes, you were so bloody right.”
“Well of course I was white boy. Next time you’ll realise it a bit sooner and spare me the headache of your confused puppy looks being combined with your barely-restrained swooning at Kurt’s feet every time he opens up his mouth.”
“I don’t- Oh God, do I really?”
“I’d say not to worry and that it’s only obvious to me because I know you both so well, but considering Puck has started to give you strange looks I think it’s a lost cause. The only one who doesn’t suspect is Kurt, and that’s because he has serious self-esteem issues when it comes to boys - I blame the hobbit.”
“What should I do?” Sam whispered, barely recognising his own voice, and for the first time Mercedes didn’t answer him straight away.
“Sam. Do you know why I convinced you to hang around with Kurt?”
Sam was more than a little confused, but he answered all the same.
“Because Blaine looked jealous when I sat next to Kurt.”
“But that’s just the thing: he didn’t. He didn’t look jealous, and I didn’t think this would make him go back to Kurt. I didn’t want it to make him take Kurt back, even before you talked to me, because if he let go so easily in the first place he certainly didn’t deserve my boy.”
Sam tried to answer and failed; clearing his throat, he finally croaked out a sound that might or might not have been a why. Mercedes sighed.
“You thought Kurt was interesting. In those two weeks of our pathetic try at dating this summer, your favourite moments were when I invited him along - not that I blame you, they were mine too. You were looking for an excuse to spend more time with him. I was glad to provide you one.”
“So you knew I would-” Sam hesitated, “end up feeling this way?”
Mercedes started laughing.
“Not at first - Kurt could tell you my gaydar isn’t the best. I just wanted to distract him, and I thought it’d do both of you some good to be closer friends. But then I saw the way you interacted with him, so I started hoping, and then there was your little speech about Blaine not being good for him, which as you know pretty much convinced me I was right.”
“What about Kurt? Does he- do you think he also…?”
“Honestly I can’t tell. He was immediately interested last year, when you transferred, but I think right now he simply doesn’t see you as a possibility anymore. That can change, but it’s your call now, Evans.”
Sam reluctantly smiled into the phone.
“Right. Thanks, ‘Cedes…for everything. I have some thinking to do, I guess.”
“That you have. See you at school on Monday - and don’t forget, the first step of the plan is some tighter-fitting clothes.”
Sam let out a sound that was half-groan and half-laugh as he hung up and flopped down on his bed, but admitted to himself Mercedes was at least partly right - he had some serious planning to do.
***
See you (hopefully) soon for chapter 2: Wooing Kurt Hummel. :)
R u awake? I need 2 get my schoolbag.
Mercedes’s answer was swift to come as always.
Knew i should have just left it in the choir room…sure, come over
“So what’s so important about that bag that couldn’t wait ‘til after 9 AM on a Saturday morning?”
Sam directed his most innocent smile at Mercedes, knowing there was a fifty-percent chance she had already glanced through the bag and seen there was strictly nothing essential in there. Surely enough, she didn’t even try to hand it to him, instead sighing and stepping aside to let him come in.
“I take it you needed to talk, and for some reason it had to be at dawn on a weekend.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, but I have work in two hours so…” Sam trailed off, entering the warmly-decorated foyer he remembered from Prom night a few months ago and shrugging off his jacket.
“It’s okay,” Mercedes said, waving his apology away as she led him into the empty kitchen and made him sit. “I have the feeling this will be more interesting than anything the Internet has to offer me this morning.”
“Thanks.” Sam said wryly.
“So what’s the matter? Tell Auntie Mercedes everything.”
“That’s a bit disturbing, actually.” Mercedes impatiently rolled her eyes at him, wordlessly asking him to get on with it already. “It’s just- Kurt, this song yesterday…he was singing for Blaine.”
He half-expected a sarcastic answer, but Mercedes just nodded.
“And he told me that this was his last try, and he sounded…well. I started asking myself if we had ever been right to want them to get back together. I mean, obviously I want Kurt to be happy, but…I’m wondering if Blaine was ever the best candidate for that.” He threw a side-glance at Mercedes, who seemed to be beaming for some reason. “So what do you think I should do?”
“Well, let’s see. My boy is a bit of a romantic so I wouldn’t try coming on too strong, but your body is definitively an asset - the hobbit aside, Kurt has a history of liking jocks. So you should be subtle, but wear some tighter-fitting clothing - I tend to forget you even have abs, use them a little! For the rest, well you know what he likes as well as I do, but-”
“Mercedes,” Sam finally cut in her enthusiastic rambling, more than a little bewildered. “What could you possibly be talking about?”
She frowned at him.
“I thought you wanted some advice?”
“Yeah, I do want some advice. I’d love to know if you think I should continue with our plan or if you agree Blaine isn’t right for Kurt, but why are you-” He stopped to try and find a way to phrase this that wasn’t too awkward, then renounced. “Apparently teaching me how to seduce Kurt?”
“Ooooo-kay. I thought you had gotten tired of paddling in the water, but apparently you’re still comfortable in your river in Egypt.”
Sam was definitively lost, and it must have shown on his face because Mercedes’s frown finally softened.
“It’s okay sweetie, you’ll probably get it soon. To answer your question, I think you’re right - Blaine was trying to suppress my boy’s individuality, and I can’t tolerate that. So just give up the plan, okay? But don’t tell Kurt you have yet.”
***
As he left Mercedes’s home, Sam decided to put the whole confusing conversation out of his head, determined to just forget about it.
Of course, it was all in vain; he couldn’t stop himself from remembering how Mercedes had so easily thought he was announcing he believed he was the right person for Kurt anymore than he could stay away from the countertenor for the time it took him to sort his thoughts out, even though it would have been the easiest option.
And so for the next two weeks Kurt and Sam continued to hang out together almost everyday, sometimes with Finn or Mercedes or Mike and Tina or even Santana and Brittany, sometimes by themselves, squabbling over whose turn it was to pick the movie, forcing the other to listen to their favourite music (and it was becoming harder by the day to remember a time when Sam hadn’t even heard of Singing in the Rain), scheming to make sure both Burt Hummel and Stacy Evans ate more vegetables, working on Sam’s frustration with their English assignments or reading comic books Kurt pretended to only enjoy because of all the spandex. And it was fun, like it had been from day one, genuine fun and warmth and friendship and all those things they made Disney movies out of - but sometimes it was just a bit more.
Just a bit more, because Sam found himself noticing the strangest things about his best friend, like the way his nose crinkled in concentration when he read something written in a foreign language, the way nothing calmed Kurt faster than choosing a random song and planning a dance routine for Tina, Brittany and him, the way he looked when he stubbornly refused to cry at Grey’s Anatomy sappiest and most tragic developments, the way the smiles he gave Finn and the ones he gave Sam were somehow completely different.
Still Sam’s strategic denial was working, and everything was going along pretty great, when Kurt decided he needed to talk to him.
“Hey Sam.” They were in front of the blond’s locker, which should have been told him something serious was coming - apparently, it was a McKinley High tradition to have every soul-searching discussion in front of the school lockers.
“Hey Kurt, so how did your French exam go?”
“Très bien, merci - c’était terriblement facile à vrai dire, comme toujours.” Sam didn’t understand a word of that, but he could get it had gone well. “But that’s actually not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Kurt then proceeded to hesitate a little, which was sufficiently unlike the other teen that Sam stopped foraging through his locker for his elusive History book and gave him his full attention. “You know, Finn of all people told me yesterday he hadn’t seen me this happy in a while.”
“Yeah, he was really worried about you when- well, a few weeks ago.” Sam offered, careful not to directly refer to Blaine. “He’s a good brother, even if he was a bit of a jerk last year.”
But Kurt just shook his head.
“No, that’s not what he meant. He said he hadn’t seen me be myself in this way in what felt like months. Since before Prom, or before Dalton, or perhaps before the whole Karofsky situation. He seemed weirdly happy about it, considering he hasn’t always had reasons to enjoy all aspects of my personality.” Kurt made a half-sheepish, half-amused face at this, but Sam didn’t chuckle in response like he normally would have, too busy staring at his friend and wondering where this was going.
“You know, with everything that happened with- with Blaine, this could have been one of the worst months of my high school life - but… but it really wasn’t. It was one of the best, actually. And, well, it doesn’t take a genius to know this is mainly thanks to you. So…thank you, Sam Evans, for everything, and especially for allowing me to find myself again.”
For all it hesitancies, it was a beautiful and heartfelt speech; Kurt was visibly a bit embarrassed, though he still looked at him in the eyes, and Sam would have loved to answer in a similarly eloquent and thoughtful way. It turned out that he really couldn’t, though, because even as the brunet expanded on how thankful he was to Sam for being his friend the blond found he wanted nothing more than to hug the smaller teen close, to whisper answering words of devotion in his ears, perhaps even to ki-
Oh shit.
It was his turn to speak so Sam garbled something about it being his pleasure, not really sure which words were tumbling out of his mouth. Kurt said something about needing to go to class, throwing him a large smile as he went, and Sam was left standing stock-still near his locker, blood rushing through his veins and feeling more than a little desperate because, because…
He was so fucked.
***
Sam pressed the phone tighter to his ear as it rang and rang, willing Mercedes to answer already.
“What is it with you and early-morning conversations, blondie? Some of us need a little time to prepare if they want to look properly fabulous, you know.”
Sam hadn’t slept much, and he actually thought she should be thankful he had waited until this late to call.
“You were right. Mercedes, you were so bloody right.”
“Well of course I was white boy. Next time you’ll realise it a bit sooner and spare me the headache of your confused puppy looks being combined with your barely-restrained swooning at Kurt’s feet every time he opens up his mouth.”
“I don’t- Oh God, do I really?”
“I’d say not to worry and that it’s only obvious to me because I know you both so well, but considering Puck has started to give you strange looks I think it’s a lost cause. The only one who doesn’t suspect is Kurt, and that’s because he has serious self-esteem issues when it comes to boys - I blame the hobbit.”
“What should I do?” Sam whispered, barely recognising his own voice, and for the first time Mercedes didn’t answer him straight away.
“Sam. Do you know why I convinced you to hang around with Kurt?”
Sam was more than a little confused, but he answered all the same.
“Because Blaine looked jealous when I sat next to Kurt.”
“But that’s just the thing: he didn’t. He didn’t look jealous, and I didn’t think this would make him go back to Kurt. I didn’t want it to make him take Kurt back, even before you talked to me, because if he let go so easily in the first place he certainly didn’t deserve my boy.”
Sam tried to answer and failed; clearing his throat, he finally croaked out a sound that might or might not have been a why. Mercedes sighed.
“You thought Kurt was interesting. In those two weeks of our pathetic try at dating this summer, your favourite moments were when I invited him along - not that I blame you, they were mine too. You were looking for an excuse to spend more time with him. I was glad to provide you one.”
“So you knew I would-” Sam hesitated, “end up feeling this way?”
Mercedes started laughing.
“Not at first - Kurt could tell you my gaydar isn’t the best. I just wanted to distract him, and I thought it’d do both of you some good to be closer friends. But then I saw the way you interacted with him, so I started hoping, and then there was your little speech about Blaine not being good for him, which as you know pretty much convinced me I was right.”
“What about Kurt? Does he- do you think he also…?”
“Honestly I can’t tell. He was immediately interested last year, when you transferred, but I think right now he simply doesn’t see you as a possibility anymore. That can change, but it’s your call now, Evans.”
Sam reluctantly smiled into the phone.
“Right. Thanks, ‘Cedes…for everything. I have some thinking to do, I guess.”
“That you have. See you at school on Monday - and don’t forget, the first step of the plan is some tighter-fitting clothes.”
Sam let out a sound that was half-groan and half-laugh as he hung up and flopped down on his bed, but admitted to himself Mercedes was at least partly right - he had some serious planning to do.
***
See you (hopefully) soon for chapter 2: Wooing Kurt Hummel. :)