Fandom: Glee, Season Two, AU
Warning(s): Naughty language and sexual thoughts.
Distribution: Please ask first. Please do not screencap this story, save it to hard drives, exchange with others, or translate into other languages without written consent.
Feedback: Con-crit is always welcome; flames are ridiculed and put on display.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, lyrics, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Snippets of dialogue may be incorporated from the original canonical episode(s) and belong to their respective authors/creators. The original characters and plot are the property of the author(s). The author(s) is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended, nor should any be inferred. No profit is being made.
Summary: When Sam meets Kurt, it's gay love at first sight.
Author's Note: I wrote this because 1) Hevans is my crack, 2) I wanted to prove to myself that I'm still capable of writing a one-shot and not everything has to be multichaptered, and 3) I just want a guy to look at Kurt and fall hard, instantly, with no hangups and no regrets. Ideally, I'd like it to be Sam, but whatevs. That's what AUs are for. I'm so tired of Kurt having to chase love, when it should be lining up at his door. So, for all the Hevans shippers, enjoy!
Sam paced nervously outside of the choir room, his palms sweaty and face clammy.
He didn't know why he was so anxious. He had already auditioned and been accepted into New Directions, but he had only met a few of their members. Now he was about to be met with all of them at once, and though their numbers were low, Finn had explained that they ran high on personality. And wasn't there some guy who just got out of jail?
What if they didn't like him? What if he didn't like them? What if they all liked each other and then he did something to fuck it up and he was left with no friends in this godforsaken town? He hated being the new kid.
Suddenly, he also hated his hair, and his clothes, and his lips. Where was his Chapstick? He dug into his pocket and smeared the soothing balm across his wide expanse of mouth.
He was such a dork. He was the King of All Dorks. Why would they like him?
He regretted every Dorito he had ever eaten. Did he look fat today?
"Man up," he hissed under his breath to himself.
So what if they didn't like him? He was obviously good enough to stand in their company. As long as he pulled his weight and did what he was supposed to, it should be fine. Okay, so he wasn't the world's best dancer, but after watching Finn try to navigate, well, anything, he guessed he had a leg up.
"Right," he muttered, hand reaching out to grasp the doorknob, only for it to slip out of his grasp. "Fuck!" He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans, grabbed for the door more forcefully and threw it open.
As he crossed the threshold, all of the jovial chatter and cheerful harmonizing he had heard from the outside died.
Eleven sets of eyes zeroed in on him and he fought not to run screaming from the room. He felt the weight of their scrutiny, their silent judgments. Jesus, he was such a girl. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but a dry croak emerged which somehow managed to mock him.
"Sam!" Finn happily exclaimed, bounding over to his new friend and all but wagging his tail with joy. "You're here!"
"I am. I am Sam. Sam I am."
Finn blinked slowly before a beam took over his face. "Let me introduce you to everyone!" He grabbed Sam's arm and began tugging him around the room. "This is Rachel. She's our co-captain and my girlfriend."
"Nice to meet you," Sam said politely.
Rachel donned her welcoming-cum-condescending smile she had practiced relentlessly for just this very occasion. Just as she was about to reply, Finn began pulling him away. She pouted and tried to assess Sam's vocal classification and range from the handful of words he had uttered.
The next few moments were a blur for Sam as the names of his new teammates came at him fast and furious. Three girls dressed as cheerleaders were giving him appraising glances. The Latina absolutely terrified him. The blond attached to her hip smiled and said something about marine life. The other blond with the warmest brown eyes he had ever seen said a soft hello before lowering her gaze and peeking up at him through her lashes.
Danger! Danger Sam Evans! his subconscious screamed.
He met a really cool guy named Artie who was in a wheelchair and rocking the geek chic look. When asked if he played Halo, Sam enthusiastically replied that he did and he sensed he had just made a new friend. He then met an Asian girl with some really awesome streaks in her hair – maybe he could ask her for some follicular advice? – and an Asian guy who looked like he was her boyfriend and a little bit territorial.
Then he met the delinquent and they exchanged some repartee about tennis balls. Sam had no idea, but the way the dude was smirking at him was a little unnerving, especially as the delinquent seemed to be scanning the room for someone else. Next he met a black girl with some of the most seriously amazing curves he had ever seen on a woman. He could tell from her honeyed voice that she was probably the star of the club. He couldn't wait to hear her sing.
"Just sit anywhere, Sam!" Finn cheerfully screeched. "We're just waiting for Mister Schuester and then we'll start."
Sam nodded and he searched for an empty chair.
And then his eyes landed on him. When the other boy turned his head and locked their gazes, all sound, sight, and smell melted away and there was only them.
How was it possible for someone like this boy to exist in reality? He looked like he belonged in a painting in some fancy museum.
Sam couldn't stop staring at this boy's lips. They weren't as big as his own, but they were full and pink and looked so soft he just wanted them to be rubbed against every part of his body. And thank god for relaxed fit jeans, because the half-mast that just popped up was soon to be overtaken by the biggest boner Sam had ever had since, well, since he started getting boners.
The cheekbones. Sweet Jesus, the cheekbones! They looked like they had been sculpted rather than inherited. And that skin, that pale, absolutely flawless skin that looked like it had been polished, burnished, and then highlighted by some hidden moon. That skin looked delicious and Sam just wanted to lick it. The cute little button nose that looked vaguely elfish. The hair that shone under the fluorescent lights, giving the boy a haloed effect.
This boy was an angel, and all Sam wanted to do was go to church.
The eyes almost did him in, almost felled him and sent him to his knees, which suddenly seemed like the very best place for him to be, either in worship or debauchery. Wide and almost catlike. What the fuck color were they? Couldn't they decide? They were blue and green and grey and fucking sparkling. He felt like he was drowning in those eyes.
The others watched with stultified expressions as the two boys stared at each other. It was like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room and replaced with tangible sexual energy, violently crackling in the air.
"Interesting," Santana purred, eyebrow cocked, eyes heavily lidded and gleaming.
Finn nervously stepped up. "Uh, Sam, you need to know that…"
Sam gave him a dismissive wave, accidentally slapping Finn across the face. "Dude, don't cockblock me."
Finn gasped and started hyperventilating.
"Oh, hell no," Mercedes muttered, getting to her feet, only to be shoved back into place by Quinn.
Puck smirked at Kurt. Get some, Little Dude!
Sam strolled forward, not bothering to resist the magnetic force those amazing eyes were emitting, and collapsed into the chair beside his Angel.
"Hey," he said shyly.
Kurt stared straight ahead for a moment, ignoring the salutation, and Sam began to panic. Shit, what if he had completely misread the situation? What if his Angel wasn't into dudes? But the outfit and the crossed legs and the utterly fabulous hat suggested that he might be. Whoa, he was really being a dick, totally judging his Angel based on appearances. Stereotype much, Sam? Epic fail.
But then Kurt's head slowly turned toward him, a light blush on his cheeks, lips curved up into a half smile which Sam just wanted to kiss, nibble and suck right off his face.
"Why, hello, Sam Evans."
Oh fuck, that voice! It was light and high and musical and all Sam wanted to do was make his Angel scream in pleasure, just to hear how high that voice could go.
Sam swallowed heavily and tried his best to put forth a winning smile. "I guess I'm at your mercy. You know my name, but I don't know yours."
Kurt calmly raised a bemused eyebrow. "Not at all, Sam Evans. When you're at my mercy, believe me, you'll know."
As Santana and Puck released loud catcalls, Kurt slowly rose to his feet and sashayed – there was no other word for that gait, Sam realized – toward the piano, hips at maximum sway.
It was a second later that Sam realized he had said those words aloud.
Kurt paused and looked over his shoulder, the smile stretching into a smirk as he winked at Sam, whose heart began pounding out of his chest. His mouth fell open and he actually began drooling.
Finn started crying.
Kurt cracked his knuckles and sat at the piano with a grand flourish, his fingers dancing lightly up and down the keys, and Sam was totally entranced. Rachel, Quinn, and Mercedes rushed to join him at the piano, while Santana eventually sauntered over, sitting down next to Kurt and laying her head on his shoulder. He gently kissed her temple and began playing scales, the girls' voices rising and falling with every note in a gorgeous harmony that caused Sam's cock to vibrate.
"His name's Kurt Hummel," Tina whispered to him.
"Totally gay in the most awesome way," Artie added.
"He's the best kisser in this school," Brittany chirped, "and his hands are baby-soft." Her eyes suddenly darkened. "If you hurt my dolphin, I'll gut you and feed your body to dogs. Ugly dogs."
Kurt Hummel, Sam silently mouthed. Mine.