Title: How Kurt Got His White Chocolate (Chapter 1: I Said I Don't Care)

Rated: T

Writing Time: 12/07/2011

Pairing(s): Sam/Kurt

Warning: Underage stripping, a bit of frisky Kurt with a touch of rather compliant Sam, and pre-Hevans

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. As much as I would love to, I don't. At least Chord Overstreet/Sam is back on though! Let's hope he's there for keeps!

Summary: What happens when Kurt accompanies Finn to Kentucky to try and get Sam Evans back with New Directions?

Author's Note: This was just a little something floating around in my head after the 12/06/2011 episode that I had to let out. Betaed by me. If you happen to spot some (if any) mistakes, please don't hesitate to point them out via review or PM. Thank You!

The car ride was completely uneventful. Finn Hudson was driving; of course it was going to be that way. Kurt Hummel stared out the passenger window and watched the roadside scenery pass him by. With each mile trekked, they were brought closer and closer to the state line where they would cross into Kentucky.

Kurt knew Rachel was originally supposed to go with Finn but her fathers were mad that she got herself suspended and Kurt played the martyr card. After all, her suspension had originally put him in jeopardy. When he heard Finn was planning on trying to get Sam Evans back into McKinley and the New Directions, he had to go. He couldn't help himself; his pathetic and unrequited crush on the blonde Beiber was still there. Even if nothing could come of it (like anything ever would), Kurt wanted to see for himself that Sam was alright and if he was doing okay. And of course, he also wanted to see Sam.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Kurt asked as the truck Finn drove pulled into the parking lot of a rather grungy-looking little bar.

Finn looked down at the paper in his hands and turned off the ignition. "Yeah, dude, check out the address. We're in the right place."

How? Kurt thought as he unbuckled his seatbelt and unlocked the door, opening it and letting himself out. Eww! Even the parking lot smells like booze. And— oh, gross, that smells like puke! How could Sam be working in a place like this?

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" Kurt stressed as he walked right up beside his stepbrother and latched onto his arm, beginning to fear for his safety beside it being the middle of a sunny afternoon.

The taller of the two just rolled his eyes as he pushed open the heavy door and walked inside the decrepit-looking building, Kurt dangling annoyingly off his arm. "Yes, we're in the right place. I copied the address exactly!"

Kurt took a look around. There was definitely a bar in the corner which explained the smell in the parking lot but it didn't answer the question as to how Sam could be working here. The décor wasn't too bad looking (despite it not being Kurt's favorite) and he did notice a salad bar. It was sparsely populated and most of the tables around were empty.

"What is this place, some kind of restaurant?" Kurt asked Finn, looking up at the frankenteen.

Finn shrugged and opened his mouth to speak when the lights suddenly dimmed and Kurt jumped back up against his stepbrother's side, his self-safety fears heightening. Music began thumping and people (Kurt couldn't help noticing they were mostly middle-aged women) began rushing up to what looked like a… stage?

An MC started speaking, introducing somebody named Cobra, but Kurt couldn't hear much with the music pulsing and the pounding that began filling his ears. A man dressed like a fireman pushed the tinsel curtains aside and stepped onto the stage. Kurt's eyes widened as the women clustered around the stage began to holler.

"Is that a—?" Finn started but Kurt shushed him, eyes glued to the scene playing in front of him.

Another man, this one dressed like a cop and apparently called Mr. Package, walked on next and Kurt tore his wide eyes away, landing on a light fixture on the wall that read Stallionz. One plus one began equalling two and Kurt didn't want to add two and two together. He was scared, only now, not for himself.

"Alright, ladies," the MC started. "Please give a warm welcome to White Chocolate!"

If possible, the screaming women's screams grew louder and it was all Kurt needed to pop away the pounding in his ears. A third man stepped on stage in overalls and a hardhat and Kurt's heart pounded (whether in shock, disgust, embarrassment, shame, or possibly a hint of arousal?) when the man and the two flanking his sides tore away their outfits.

There was no denying it now. Finn got the address right after all. They found Sam Evans. Sam Evans was working in Kentucky in a strip bar. Sam Evans was a stripper.

"That's an image I'll never get outta my head," Finn muttered through the din, Kurt catching every word despite the volume.

"Give me a dollar," Kurt said, making his mind up despite how confounded it was right now.

"What?" Finn said a little too sharply.

Kurt held out his hand, feeling his heart pounding in nerves (or so he was trying to convince himself) throughout his body. "Just give me a dollar."

Finn slipped the bill in his hand and Kurt began a demure march up to the women clambering around the stage, all of them holding money and three-quarters of them screaming their heads off.

Well, I'll give them something, Kurt thought as he began shaking (both through the feminine crowd and literally) his way toward the front. At least they're going GaGa over the incredibly handsome stripper.

Did I seriously just think that?

Oh, forgive me McQueen, but it's true! Kurt tried to reason with his inner voice as he made his way closer to the stage, beginning to see Sam's work boots as the blonde danced and moved (rather sexfully [gracefully, too] Kurt noticed) on stage. This is like a really hot wet dream come true! One I wouldn't mind having, even if it means ruining my Ralph Lauren sheets. Alright, focus now, PUCK! He's coming your way. Raise the dollar. RAISE THE DOLLAR! NOW!

Kurt lifted his hand holding the dollar bill and looked up right when Sam's smiling face looked down at him, reaching down some to accept it.

"Thanks, Kurt," Sam said, still smiling that handsome smile until it drooped instantly and his eyes shot open comically wide. "Kurt?"

The brunette in question looked up through his eyelashes sheepishly and the look on Sam's face said it all.

Busted.

Absolutely, completely, epically, totally busted.

B.U.S. to the motherf—king T.E.D.

"Do your parents even know?" Finn asked as Kurt just stared at Sam's (now sneakered) feet, not being able to bring himself to look anywhere else. Or at anyone (re: Sam) else.

The music was still thumping from the front of the bar, but Sam (now bundled up in jeans, a coat and a baggy hoodie instead of those sinfully red short shorts), Finn and Kurt were now standing (sitting in a foldout chair in Sam's case) in the men's locker room.

Sam looked up at the pair, noticing Kurt staring at the grimy floor with sheer determination.

"No. They think I work at DQ," the blonde answered.

"Seriously?" Kurt piped in, eyebrow arched up and completely unable to help himself. Sam's wearing face glitter, for Bowie's sake! How could any parent not notice something?

Sam faced Kurt, the tight muscles in his cheeks beginning to relax a little. He let out a breathy little sigh as he licked his lips. "Yeah. I started off working there while my dad managed to get a construction job. It pays okay but it only really covers rent and bills. I was throwing out the trash one night when I saw a flyer. Showed up and here I am, making the money. So when I want a comic book or when Stevie needs a new pair of shoes," he patted his covered stomach. "These abs pay for it."

"Do you like it?" Finn asked, trying to broach the subject subtly but failing miserably.

"It's alright," Sam answered. "Am I ashamed? Hell no! Why should I be? I'm good at this. Look," he started, pulling a crumpled wad of paper from his hoodie pocket. "In one afternoon I made sixty dollars," he said, putting it all on the vanity. "Sixty one," he finished, lightly winking at the fashionista as he fished the bill Kurt had handed him from his jeans pocket and put it on top of his small pile.

Kurt blushed; his cheeks now stained a deep fuchsia.

"Why are you two even here?" Sam asked, curiously lacing what he hoped weren't harsh-sounding words.

Finn stood up a little straighter and Kurt slowly began regulating his breath. "Come back to Lima with us, dude. New Directions needs star power; we need you, Sam!"

The blonde looked between the Hudson and the Hummel, noticing Kurt's gentle head nod.

"Let me wash this crap of my face and we can talk about it more at my house," Sam said, standing up to open a locker and pull his stuff out.

It was beyond awkward, the short car ride over to Sam's new house. Sandwiched between driving Finn and passenger Sam, every part of Kurt was hyper-sensitized. On the left, everything was completely fine. None of his senses were feeling anything having his thigh lightly pressing against Finn's as the taller boy navigated the unfamiliar streets of Sam's new town. On the other hand, Kurt's right was driving him (figuratively and emotionally) absolutely wild.

There wasn't much to look at outside the windshield but Kurt didn't care. His glasz eyes remained solely focused on the paved road in front of him, the countertenor doing his best to ignore the blonde at his side. His hand was dangerously close to Sam's, resting between the small spaces created by their thighs. Kurt kept feeling little shocks shooting through him, the electricity of having Sam so close slowly beginning to drive him insane. He wasn't even touching the blonde and yet he could feel him. The static shocks he was getting from "feeling" the hairs on the back of Sam's hand tickling him; the buzz their shoulders were creating despite not touching; the urge to set his foot closer to the blonde's bigger one and tap it, claiming an accident. Kurt was thrilled when Sam announced they were on his block, pointing up to a not-too-shabby two-story condo.

Belts unbuckled and doors popped open, the engine cut. Kurt was so wildly feverish with the electricity coursing through his lithe body that he was prepared to climb out of the cab on Finn's side when Sam held the door open for him, Finn already closing his.

Well, that's just perfect, Kurt grumbled as he unfastened his seatbelt and scooted himself over to the passenger door.

Sam held his hand out as well and Kurt's heart stopped dead in his chest. There's no way you can get out of not accepting it. Just take it quickly and let go as soon as possible. All will be well. All will be well, Kurt.

Kurt nodded as discreetly as possible to the small voice in his head as he reached over for Sam's hand, his inner supermodel raving about how soft the skin was. He was surprised; in the few instances where Kurt's held Finn's hand, the skin was callused. The tall teen explained it was from all the weight lifting he did. So why was Sam's hand, doubled with guitar playing as well as religious working out that he was sure caused calluses, so smooth?

Who cares? Just enjoy it before you have to let it go!

The brunette listened as Sam helped him out of the truck, a small smile in his direction pulling at Sam's lips. Kurt couldn't help it; he smiled back. It had been far too long since he'd seen that smile, the one that raised his temperature, made his heart beat faster and unleashed a swarm of ravenous butterflies in his stomach.

"Thanks, Sam," Kurt muttered as he let go of his former teammate's hand, Sam's fingers lingering momentarily on his.

"No problem," the blonde said, closing the door; his hand lightly hovering at the small of Kurt's back, guiding him up to the sidewalk.

Finn unlatched the chain link gate and stepped past it, Kurt and Sam following. Sam rummaged around in his bag for a moment and his hand (no longer floating behind Kurt) emerged victoriously with a ring of keys. He walked ahead of the stepbrothers to the front door and stuck the key in the lock, turning it.

"Mom? Dad? I'm home," Sam called into the house, ushering Kurt and Finn in.

"Kurtie! Finn!" Stevie and Stacy Evans chirped, looking up from their coloring books when the pair walked in with their brother.

Little footsteps stomped across the small living room as Finn and Kurt found themselves supporting overexcited eight-year-olds, both of which jumping in the pairs' arms. Sam smiled at the picture when Dwight and Mary Evans emerged from the kitchen, surprised at what they were hearing and not believing they were seeing the Hudson-Hummel brothers in their new home.

"Finn, Kurt!" Dwight exclaimed, reaching out a hand in Finn's direction while Mary pulled the smaller brunette into her arms for a hug, Stacy and all.

"Hi, Mrs. Evans," Kurt greeted, Stacy squirming a little at how tightly she was being squeezed.

"Mom!" she squeaked, Mary loosening her hold but not completely as Stacy slid down Kurt's lithe body.

Kurt chuckled as Dwight pulled Kurt in for a hug, Mary now attempting to choke the life out of the frankenteen via hug.

"It's good to see you, bud," Dwight said, holding the boy close against him.

Kurt smiled against the construction worker's chest, unintentionally imagining it was Sam he was pressed up against. "It's good to see you too, Mr. Evans."

"Come on, let's go into the kitchen!" Mary offered, letting go of Finn and holding an arm out towards the kitchen in invitation.

Dwight let go of the small brunette in his arms and guided him into the kitchen, Sam quietly putting his stuff down on the couch and following the foursome, Stacy and Stevie following him. He ruffled Stevie's hair as Kurt and Finn sat down; the smaller Evans' hopping immediately into their laps. Mary chuckled as she began boiling water for tea.

"So, what brings you two down to Kentucky?" Dwight asked as Mary sat beside him.

Well," Finn started. "…We were kinda hoping we could talk Sam into coming back to McKinley."

Mary and Dwight's blank faces were exactly what Kurt pictured when he imagined this conversation in his head. Actually, it sounded better in his head than it did out loud.

Both Evans' turned to Sam, the blonde looking down at the table.

"It wouldn't be much of a problem," Finn continued, oblivious to the tension the air began secreting. "He could stay with us or at my girlfriend's house."

At this, both of them turned their gazes to Finn, simultaneously thinking he meant Quinn. "Oh, no, Rachel. My girlfriend's Rachel," he clarified, putting one and one together from the looks on their faces. "She has two dads and plenty of room."

Both of them nodded at that, though Kurt noticed the way Sam's face began scrunching up, like he just smelled something fowl in the air.

"Why don't you two take Stace and Steve in the living room and make yourselves busy?" Dwight suggested with a tone that hinted it wasn't a choice.

Kurt nodded quickly, pushing his chair back and supporting Stevie's weight in his arms, carrying the quiet boy out of the kitchen.

"Totally," Finn said, picking him and Stacy up. "Looking busy is one of my specialties."

The fashionista set Stevie down on the couch and picked up the TV remote, turning it on and letting the insipid sounds of Blue's Clues drown out the quiet conversation Sam was having with his parents in the kitchen. Stacy wriggled her hand out of Finn's and went for her coloring book, picking it and her crayons up off the floor, bringing them both to the coffee table.

It was hard not to want to know what was going on in the kitchen, but Kurt's distraction was proving impossible for him to eavesdrop. He could only make out a few words like "man", "teenager", "grow up", "fast", "glitter", "face", "Dairy Queen", and "understand" before Blue found another clue and the sounds from the TV drowned out everything else completely.

"So what'd they say?" Finn asked, snapping Kurt's attention away from the TV and onto Sam, who came out of the kitchen with a light smile on his face.

He reached his hand up for a high-five and Finn grinned. "Dude, Trouty Mouth's returning to Lima!"

"Yeah, man!" Finn cheered, slapping his hand against Sam's.

"Hey, Kurt, can you help me pack? I need an expert right now," Sam asked, turning over to Kurt with a wide smile.

Kurt nodded. "Of course I'll help."

The brunette picked himself up from the couch and patted Stevie's head as he followed Sam up the stairs and down the small hall to the boy's room.

He actually couldn't help the giggle bubbling in his throat as it spilled out of his mouth when he looked around Sam's room. It was actually like his old room back in Lima; only the walls were still an impersonal shade of beige instead of blue. But the sci-fi posters, barbell set, bookshelf of comic books; those were still the same.

"What's so funny?" Sam asked, turning slightly to face the brunette.

Kurt shook his head, the smile still on his face. "Nothing, just admiring the posters. Reminds me of your old room."

Sam took a look around and realized Kurt was right.

"So, what do you want to start with first, clothes?" Kurt asked, making his way over to the closet.

The blonde reached out for his hand and Kurt stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to face Sam but the blonde was walking over to his bed, pulling the delicate teen along with him.

Kurt sat down next to Sam who was slumping heavily. The second thing Kurt noticed was his shoulders were shaking. Kurt loosened his hand out of Sam's and instantly brought it around Sam's shoulder, doing his best to stop the blonde from jittering so badly.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, breath hitching a little in his chest.

Sam looked up and the sight alone brought tears to Kurt's eyes. He'd never seen Sam look so distraught before, his brillant green eyes flashing with pain as the tears streamed down his cheeks. Even when things were horrendously bad for him and his family in Ohio, Sam had managed to keep it together.

"What's wrong?" the brunette asked again.

"D-Didn't I disgust you ear-r-r-lier? When I w-w-w-was on stage? B-e-e-be-be-e honest," Sam managed to choke out, tearfully looking up at the male diva.

The countertenor thought for a moment before sliding his other hand alongside Sam's jaw and cupping his cheek gently in his palm. "No. The honest truth: I was a little turned on by the show. Honest."

Sam's eyes flickered with something Kurt couldn't place; he was just happy the tears were lessening. "Really? You were?"

Kurt blushed as he nodded. "My heart was pounding the whole time I was walking over. It felt like I was going to execution or something. Your moves have improved too," Kurt commented in an offhand manner. "So much better since your Rocky Horror days."

The blonde chuckled, his mouth breaking into a watery smile. "You really don't care?"

Kurt shook his head, much calmer about the entire thing despite how freaked he was when it became apparent that Sam was working as a stripper. He took a deep breath before answering. "No, I don't care. I'm sorry you had to do it though."

He nodded, a (hopeful-looking?) smile on his face. "How're things with the boyfriend?" Sam asked, changing the subject from serious to curious.

"Blaine?" Kurt blanched. "We broke up a—" was all he managed to announce before a pair of wide lips were heatedly meshed up against his.

Kurt could taste the salty tang of Sam's tears as the blonde kissed him but he couldn't make himself care. He hungrily returned Sam's kiss with appreciative gusto, as if the jock's lips were a lifeline and letting go meant death. Sam's arms snaked around his waist and pulled him closer, Kurt's lower half now nestled in the blonde's lap.

"But-But-But… Mercedes," Kurt stammered lamely when he pulled away, resting his hands flat against Sam's shoulders.

"Just a fling, dude. A summer romance that lasted a month," Sam explained. "Besides, in Rachel's email she said she wasn't broken up about it and moved on pretty quick. It's always been you, from the first moment I saw you."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Kurt half-demanded, thinking back on his entire junior year and imagining what could have been with Sam at his side, thinking of the blonde holding him with Quinn and Santana.

"I'm saying something now," Sam said seriously, leaning up for another kiss.

"Why?" Kurt interjected, not believing himself for denying Sam's lips against his.

Sam sighed, looking into the glasz eyes he's missed so much. "Because I want to come back to Ohio completely honest. Think of it as me coming clean. Bisexuality's not just a buzz word, you know. I love you, Kurt. I've been in love with you, from the moment you came up and introduced yourself to me. Not seeing your face every day has been torture. I'm sorry I didn't say anything before; I was scared. I wasn't as thick-skinned as I am now. But I'm gonna make it right and I'm gonna make it up to you, dude. I'm not coming back for McKinley or New Directions. I'm coming back for you. You and you alone. That is, if it's not too late?"

Kurt pressed a quick kiss to Sam's lips before sliding his hands down the blonde's biceps (oh, Gucci, they've gotten bigger! he thought) and onto his hands, pulling them off his waist. He hopped out of Sam's lap and tore into the closet, grabbing a duffel bag and randomly tossing clothes in.

"Come on, then, let's get you packed," Kurt ordered, a fire burning in his chest with determined force. "With any luck, we'll be out of here and back in Ohio before the banks close."

Sam stood up and crouched down beside the brunette, pulling out his guitar case and another duffel. "Why before the banks close?"

Kurt stopped packing long enough to kiss Sam's cheek and wink. "Because all I have are tens and twenties. I need some ones for when White Chocolate makes his Lima debut."

The blonde grinned wolfishly before sliding his hand into Kurt's hair and pulling the boy's mouth back against his. "You really didn't care?" Sam asked when he let Kurt's lips go.

"I said I don't care," Kurt answered, kissing him once more going back to packing Sam's bags. "Now let's get you packed."

Author's Note: Well, that's it! Just a pointless little piece of fluff based on last night's episode, written in the span of four-and-a-half hours. Am I a little disappointed Sam is trying to get back with Mercedes? Yes! Am I possibly/hopelessly trying to get Sam and Kurt together like season two intended them to be? HEVANS YES! Am I trying to keep Hevans alive by boring y'all silly with these silly little bits of cotton candy? You tell me. I'm off to go find me a piece of white chocolate. Since last night, I've been craving it bad ;)

Chris Colfer's a love; Chord Overstreet is White Chocolate on legs. I'll stick with the love… for now! Please review and show me some ^^

EDIT: This will now be posted in a multichapter series as of 12/21/2011