Warnings: Light swearing, vague mentions of het-sex
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and am in no way affiliated with the show or its creators.
Authors Note: This is just something that popped into my head as I was listening to 'Sic Transit Gloria' by Brand New. This story is inspired by that song, which comes highly recommended… I love me some Brand New. *ahem* That aside, I hope you enjoy it :)

Sam got to the diner at two forty-five, fifteen minutes before he'd asked Kurt to meet him. He'd been on edge all day, and had barely slept the night before. He ran a hand through his hair when he walked in, looking around the place with its red-tabled booths and blue barstools.

Straight ahead of him a lone waitress was looking him over indiscreetly.

"Hi there! Would you like a table or a booth?" she asked, smile wide and reaching her eyes.

Sam returned the smile with dead eyes.

"Booth, please."

He knew he looked like shit. He hadn't slept; he'd come home, showered, and laid in bed tossing and turning and trying to sort his head out for over an hour before he finally caved in.

He had to talk to someone or he was going to go insane.

And so he'd picked up his phone and sent out a message:

can u met me at luckys tommorow at 3? i need sum1 2 talk 2

To which the reply was:

I'll be there.

The waitress smiled prettily at him as he sat down.

She was smirking when she opened the door, and yanked him in by his soaking wet t-shirt before he'd even had a chance to say anything.

Sam looked away from her.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, and Sam glanced back up at her before picking up a menu and pretending to look at it.

"Just… water. And a hot chocolate," he said. He waited for her to scurry away before leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands as he exhaled forcefully. He didn't breathe for a few seconds, his thoughts blissfully silent.

He leaned back and opened his eyes again, and suddenly wished he had a bad habit, like biting his nails, if only to have something to do with his hands.

To say he was nervous was an understatement.

He tried to distract himself by looking around, but it was Saturday during the dead hours and the only other person there was an older man sitting on a barstool. Sam picked up the menu and started to really try and read it, but his stomach turned at the thought of food and the words weren't making sense anyway.

"Hot chocolate and water," the girl said, placing Sam's order down in front of him. She couldn't have been much older than Sam, and as he looked at her he noticed that she was pretty - not as pretty as Quinn, or as sultry as Santana - but pretty in her own way. He offered a half smile.

"Thanks," he said, and picked up a spoon to idly stir his hot chocolate; they never stirred it enough in places like this.

"Are you ready to order?" she asked sweetly, placing her hands on the table and leaning forward, her breasts pushed up and together under the low cut of her shirt.

She was climbing over him, kissing a path on his chest up to his mouth. Her lips met his for a long moment before she stripped off her shirt, revealing tanned skin and her bare breasts. His heart pulsed and he swallowed, nervous.

It took a moment for Sam to register that she'd asked him something, and when he came to she seemed to be flushed. 'Shit,' he thought, 'I must have zoned out.'

"No… No, I'm not. I'm…" Get it together, Evans! "I'm waiting for a friend."

"Oh," she said, leaning back from the table. "Well just let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

Sam nodded and checked the time - two fifty-five - and resumed stirring his hot chocolate. He made it swirl one way and then stopped before he started to stir in the other direction. That was the best way to make sure all the powder got mixed in properly.

Her mouth was on him and - thank god - he was managing to react, to get hard. He closed his eyes and focused for a minute, just thinking about the feel, pushing her image out of his head. But then her mouth was gone and she was reaching under her pillow.

A condom.

A small bell jingled, shaking him out of his abstraction and signaling that someone had walked into or out of the diner - Sam looked up in hopes that it was Kurt, but it was just the older man, who had simply walked outside for a smoke.

Sam contemplated going out and asking if he could have one.

He watched his hot chocolate steam.

He'd done things like this before - getting girls off - but he'd never had sex. He didn't even know if he could do it. He closed his eyes and behind them he saw an indistinct male form sinking onto him, and he held onto that picture as she started moving on him. But when she grabbed his hand and put it to her breast, the image shattered and the reality of what was happening hit him.

It made his stomach roll.

Sam was feeling ants under his skin, a creepy, sickly feeling coming over him at the memory. It was fresh like a movie in his mind.

He reached a shaky hand out toward his water and almost thought twice about picking it up to drink it, afraid that he might just spill it all over himself.

It was raining hard when he pulled up to her house, and he was drenched by the time he made it to her front door.

But he managed to pick it up and took several gulps, feeling his dry throat soothed at least a bit, the cool of the water calming his frantic pulse. He put it back down and glanced at his hot chocolate. He dipped the spoon in and scraped it along the bottom before pulling it back up.

All that stirring and there were still globs of cocoa mix at the bottom of the mug.

He picked up his phone and checked the time - two minutes after three.

The bell jingled again, and he looked up to see Kurt looking at him from the entrance. Sam raised his hand to give a little wave, and Kurt smiled, walking toward him with waitress in tow.

He sat down across from Sam, smiling at the waitress and ordering a diet coke before turning to Sam, who was looking intently down into his hot chocolate.

She came and he faked it and she rolled off to the side. He sat up and went to the bathroom, taking off the empty condom and flushing it down the toilet. His erection was completely gone.

Kurt coughed a little, and Sam looked up at him.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long," he started, watching Sam's face. When he looked close and saw how haggard Sam looked, he dropped all pretense of small talk. "Sam, what's wrong?"

Sam laid his hands flat on the table, looking down and away from Kurt as he thought of what to say. There were a thousand things on the tip of his tongue, and a million more that were thundering through his mind. But through the haze of anxiety and exhaustion and fear, only one thing came out.

"I had sex with Santana," he blurted, then looked up at Kurt, his face immediately flushing.

"Oh," Kurt said, surprised. He sat up and and rested his folded hands on the table. "Is… that what you wanted to talk about? Because I'm not exactly the best at dealing with strai-"

"No!" Sam said, a little louder than he'd meant to. He ran a hand through his hair. "No, I mean, that's part of it, but I…" he breathed out heavily, "But mostly it's just that I can't make it work."

Kurt was quiet, and for a moment they just watched each other in silence. Kurt cleared his throat again.

"I take it there's trouble in paradise…?"

Sam gave a hollow laugh.

"Paradise?" he said, somewhat bitter. "I'm in hell." His eyes were looking everywhere but at Kurt, and his breathing was picking up. Kurt was waiting for Sam to continue, but soon realized that he was on the verge of having a panic attack.

"Sam." Kurt said, firmly, placing a hand on top of Sam's to try and ground him. "Calm down, breathe. I can't help you if you can't stay calm enough to talk to me," he put Sam's water glass in front of him, "Take a few sips. Relax. It's okay."

Sam nodded and picked up the glass, drinking from it for a long moment before putting it down and trying to return his breathing to normal. Kurt retracted his hand, locking eyes with Sam.

"Tell me what's really wrong here. What has you so upset?"

Sam deflated, palms digging into his eyes as he rested his head in his hands.

"I can't do this," he half-whispered. "I can't keep doing this, it's too hard, and it doesn't work. It's not ever going to work," he looked up at Kurt. "What do I do?"

Kurt sighed.

"I still don't know what you're talking about, Sam. What is it that you can't do? What is it you want to know how to do?" Kurt's eyes weren't judging him, but they looked at him, wide and blue and curious and male.

Sam clenched his hands where they rested on the table.

"Kurt," he started, but stopped when he couldn't form the words. He needed to say this, and he needed to say it now. "I… sex… I can't. Not with her."

Kurt looked away for a moment before turning his gaze back on Sam.

"I'm still not sure if I'm the best person to be talking about this with, but if you can't have sex with her then you-"

"No. I can't… Not with any girl," he said, eyes averted and voice low. The bell jingled and the old man walked back in.

It was silent for a moment.

"Sam," Kurt said, hesitant. "Are you trying to tell me that you're gay?" he asked, voice even.

Sam nodded.

"I couldn't… I couldn't even finish-"

Kurt held up a hand, and Sam stopped speaking. Kurt's eyes were sympathetic, his face kind.

"You don't have to tell me, Sam. I know," he smiled lightly, expression somewhat wry. "There was a week where I pretended - tried - to be straight." Sam looked up at that, surprise written on his face. Kurt waved a hand. "It didn't work, obviously. But I dated Brittany, and we kissed and she wanted to go further and I… couldn't. So I know what you went through. Maybe not to that extent - we never tried to have sex or anything - but I know what you mean, that it just isn't possible."

There was another beat of silence before Sam sighed loudly, looking away from Kurt for a moment.

"Where do I go from here? If I can't do it, she'll eventually figure it out, and knowing her, she'll tell everyone. They'll all know soon, and then everything will fall apart for me," he shut his eyes tightly. "With Quinn I didn't need to worry, because she never wanted to go past kissing, and I thought that since I didn't mind kissing her that maybe I was straight after all, or at least that I could pretend for a while," he opened his eyes, gaze falling onto his cocoa where it sat lukewarm before him, untouched.

Kurt folded his hands on the table again, leaning forward and trying to catch Sam's eyes.

"But with Santana, and the way that she is, you couldn't avoid it. Am I right?"

Sam looked up at Kurt and nodded again.

"There wasn't any way I could get around it. She invited me over and pulled me in and the next thing I knew we were…" he trailed off, and Kurt could see the anxiety and misery washing over his features in a wave of unconscious release.

Kurt sat back.

"My advice is to immediately break it off. Santana… She's never going to let it go. If you can't have sex with her, news will get around that you're either impotent or gay, and I'm guessing that you're not ready to take that step out of the closet just yet," he paused, not looking at Sam, before folding his arms across his chest and crossing his legs. "If you break it off with her now, it will look more like you used her for sex and then ended it. She's less likely to announce that you two did the deed if you just toss her aside afterward."

Sam shook his head.

"But I can't do that to her. I mean, she likes me, right? What if I end up hurting her and-"

"Sam, you're not hearing me. If you can't do it, it's just going to get worse. Santana has a lot of pride - she isn't going to let you live it down if you can't constantly give her what she wants. Sure she might get hurt, but you have to think of yourself in this. If you're not ready to come out, to put your social status on the line, then save yourself some grief and break it off," he said, voice stern but understanding. "I'm not saying that you can hide it forever, but I know what it's like to be out at McKinley and it's a fucking nightmare." Kurt held Sam's gaze. "I'm the only one who knows, correct?"

"Yeah," Sam breathed. "You're the only one. There's no one else I can tell."

Kurt sighed, looking away and closing his eyes briefly, splaying his hands out on the table as he returned to watching Sam.

"I know it's hard, and you can trust me when I tell you that your secret is safe with me. It's not my place to out you, and I won't because I can't allow you to go through that hell before you're ready to. Nothing about being gay is easy - nothing about living life itself is easy, but it's even more difficult when you've got people who already hate you just for being what you are," Kurt's face turned somewhat bitter as he said these things, and he suddenly looked weathered. Sam didn't blame him. Kurt had learned all these things in the worst way possible.

"I know it's not gonna be easy. But Kurt, I'm not brave. I don't know if I can do this," he said, hands shaking and voice breaking. Kurt sighed, looking apologetic, his eyes full of the pain and difficulty he'd faced.

Sam could only think about the day when he would look in the mirror and see the same intensity in his own eyes.

"You don't have a choice, Sam. You can't just learn to cope with something that doesn't feel right, and you'll only hurt yourself and others along the way if you try to force it."

Sam fiddled with his spoon, eyes downcast, but his fear and uncertainty permeated the space around them like the stagnant air of an unused room.

"But what do I do?" he asked, eyes begging Kurt for an answer.

Kurt's own eyes became sad.

"I can't answer that for you. The immediate solution is to break up with her. I know for a fact that keeping the relationship going is going to ruin you."

Sam looked panicked for a moment.

"But I worked so hard to get where I am! I dropped everything - I had to completely revamp myself, had to stop with everything nerdy that I loved and now it's all for nothing! She taught me how to make people like me. If I break up with her, what kind of status will that give me, huh? Where will I be?"

Kurt looked slightly affronted, so Sam backed off from his tirade. But Kurt just sighed again, letting his shoulders relax and drop.

"I know you're scared, Sam, and I know you just want to fit in. It's what everyone wants. But I didn't know you were sacrificing so much of yourself just to have a taste of popularity. I can't honestly tell you that it isn't worth it, that it would be easier if you just let yourself be you, because I know how that place works and I know they'll tear you down if you try. But if you can't start being at least a little brave now, then you're always going to live in fear of the world around you."

Sam exhaled sharply, frustrated.

"It was easier when I was with Quinn, you know? She let me talk in Na'vi, she put up with my comics and my WoW and my video game t-shirts and never said a thing. She even watched the premier of The Walking Dead with me," he gave a wry smile, "She would have been perfect if I weren't the way that I am," he shook his head. "But none of it mattered because no one else bothered to know; I was just the quarterback dating the head cheerleader. But then she made out with Finn and made me look like an idiot, and then Santana was there and she said she could teach me to be popular even without Quinn, and I didn't know what to do so I went with it and - god, I'm so fucking stupid!"

Kurt said nothing for a moment.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop believing that what other people say is important, because it is, especially in that place," Kurt spat the word, acid on his tongue, "But if you don't let yourself have something that's true to you, you're going to go crazy. Just… you have Glee, remember that. That's the one thing I always had at McKinley, my fabulous outfits aside, of course," Kurt said, trying to get a smile from Sam. He was met with dark eyes. He continued, "Glee club and the people in it were the only things keeping me together when everything else was falling apart."

Sam looked like he was on the verge of tears, and Kurt wished that he could lie to Sam and tell him that it was okay to keep trying to have sex with Santana, or that it was okay to be unpopular and tortured in the hallways. But he couldn't. He just couldn't.

"You're right," Sam said, eyes cloudy. "I know… I know what I should do, but I just don't know if I can do it."

Kurt reached out again and placed a hand on top of Sam's fist where it clenched on the table.

"No one's asking you to do it all at once. You can take your time. But if you bury everything, you're going to lose yourself."

Sam's fist released, and when Kurt made to pull away again, Sam grabbed his hand and gave it a light squeeze.

"Can you help me?" Sam asked, expression earnest and tone barely above a whisper. His eyes were searching Kurt's, begging for answers and reassurance that Kurt wasn't sure he could give.

"I can be here for you," he said, not breaking eye contact. He could at least be sure that he could hold that promise. "I can be someone you can be yourself around. You won't have to pretend with me. I just hope you don't mind spending some of your time marathoning America's Next Top Model or being subjected to The Kurt Hummel Experience," he said, smiling. Sam laughed a little and released Kurt's hand.

"The Kurt Hummel Experience?" he questioned, eyebrows raised.

Kurt's eyes twinkled.

"The Kurt Hummel Experience may include but is not limited to: hours of shopping and dressing up and down until perfection is reached; facials; manicures; proper hair dying; sushi; frozen yogurt; RomComs and angsty romance movies; hours of listening to the magical music of broadway; movie nights in pajamas with popcorn wars-"

Sam laughed again, the sound more full and genuine this time. He held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I think I could be down for that," he said, a small smile on his face. His darker emotions were retreating behind his eyes, even if only for a moment. Kurt grinned at him.

"Are you sure about that? I don't know many men who can claim to have survived The Experience."

Sam shook his head a bit, still smiling.

"I think I can handle this. That is if you don't mind The Sam Evans Experience," he said in a deep, resounding voice, raising his hands in front of him and spreading them apart as if to indicate a movie title.

Kurt chuckled.

"And that includes but is not limited to…?"

Sam started counting off on his fingers, "Repeat screenings of Avatar, learning Na'vi so you understand my jokes, hours of Halo, Left for Dead, and Black Ops, learning to play League of Legends, spending whole days in comic stores, playing Magic: the Gathering, watching cartoons, going to see sci-fi movies in theaters," he stopped, looking up at Kurt, who had started laughing behind one of his hands. Sam smiled at him, "The list goes on!"

Kurt took a sip of his Diet Coke, still smiling when he looked back up at Sam.

"Well, it sounds like we can expose each other to new things, at least. I suppose we'll both have to learn the patience of saints, however, as I don't even know what half of the things you just listed are. Although," he paused, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket, "And you are sworn to secrecy on this; only you and Finn know," a sly look took over his face, "I am pretty damn good at first person shooters. Finn and I are unstoppable when we play Team Slayer."

Sam raised his eyebrows, definitely surprised. But then his face scrunched in confusion.

"But why is that a secret?"

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"If the boys knew how good I was then they would beg me to help them complete co-op's and unlock achievements. And I just don't have the time for all that. Too, though, it might ruin my image as a feminine, somewhat flamboyant gay. And nobody wants that," he replied, voice musical.

Sam tilted his head and smiled.

"Okay, then I won't tell anyone. But you gotta promise to play with me," Sam said, looking excited.

"Deal," Kurt said, and he held his hand out. "Allies?" he asked.

Sam looked down at the offered hand before he took it and they shook.

"Allies," Sam confirmed.

Kurt smiled at him for a long moment before his face dropped into something a bit more serious.

"Like I said, Sam… This won't be easy. But you've got me, and when you're ready, you've got Glee, and after that you can face the world when you want to. I'm your support, so I'm not going to push you to do anything you're not feeling up to doing - but you can't be scared forever."

Sam let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair yet again.

"I know. But I think… I can get through this. It'll be enough for now. You… You'll be enough for me."

Kurt was warmed by how sincere Sam was, and felt a smile cross his face again.

"So are you hungry or do you just want to go somewhere so you can teach me what the hell Magic: the Gathering is?"

Sam put more than enough money on the table to cover their bill and give the pretty waitress a hefty tip.

"Let's get out of here."

The hot chocolate sat, cold, untouched, as they stood from the table.

The two walked to the door and the waitress's eyes bugged out when she went to collect the money from the table. She shouted a "Come again!" while the bell jingled behind them as they walked outside.

They stopped in front of Kurt's car, and Sam suddenly enveloped the smaller boy in a hug. Kurt tentatively returned it as he was squeezed tightly.

"Thank you," Sam said, and Kurt could hear the overpowering emotion in his voice, "You were the only person I knew to call. Thank you for understanding, for wanting to be my friend."

Kurt released him and gently pushed him away.

"Of course, Sam. You took a hit to the face for me. You care for me, I care for you. That's how friendship works," he said, stating the facts as if they should have been obvious. "So where am I following you?"

"My house, first, I think. I've got enough decks that you can play one of mine and I can teach you how it works."

Kurt nodded.

"Let the nerdfest begin!"

They loaded into their separate cars, and as Sam buckled himself in, he felt anxiety grip his stomach again. He'd have to break up with Santana, and he'd have to figure out some way to keep his ass covered for an indefinite period of time. He cranked his car and pulled out onto the road.

But for today, for now, with Kurt, he'd keep it simple.

Sam smiled and watched Kurt in his rearview mirror as he sang dramatically to some tune Sam couldn't hear.

With Kurt, it could just be simple.