Disclaimer: I don't claim jack-diddly.

Happy Valentine's Day~

1: Spoilers up to Heart. Warnings for language and suggestive themes.

2: Focuses on Kurt/Sam and Sam-friendships, appearances from a ton of other couples because it's Valentine's day so shut up. As in all Glee fanfic I write, Blaine doesn't exist.

My Musings in Verdana

Sam's not accustomed to putting planning into anything unrelated to medieval battles for fictional castles, but for the upcoming Valentine's Day, just one week away, he's so ready.

His materials have been gathered and prepared post-haste. Safely tucked into his backpack is a festive red container filled to the brim with blank origami hearts. It takes him a month of constant practice to get the hang of folding them perfectly, and he has to use half of his collectible Star Wars notebook's square pages – complete with miniature characters from the franchise etched into the bottom left margin of every page – but it's worth it. There are chocolates and balloons shaped like hearts stowed away in his closet in the Hudson-Hummel guest room – no roses due to his limited finances, and carefully drawn blueprints in his notebook.

He even has cohorts ready to aid him at his call – Mike, Brittany and Quinn are already on his side; he's working on getting Tina and maybe Mercedes. He doesn't inform Finn and Rory about his plans since both lack romantic tact, and Puck and Artie are busy enough trying to woo Lauren and Sugar as a team – because no great caper could be successfully committed without a crack team of specialists, right?

Okay, no, they aren't masters in espionage or martial artists or anything special, but they're pretty close in Sam's opinion, and he's going to need all the help he can get to pull off the greatest heist seen since the Rodian crime lords took over the quadanium alloy mines in his video game – he's knows he's going with the completely banal secret admirer route, so calling it a heist makes him feel a lot cooler.

And the epic tale of 'How Sam Evans Stole the Heart of Kurt Hummel' would be passed down through each year of the glee club for eternity.

Or, well, until Rory graduated, since he's the youngest who would hear of it.

––

Quinn writes the first note for him in the library.

Sam knows that there's a high chance of Kurt recognizing his hand writing; it's sloppy, sometimes breaking into the margins or dipping below the lines, and always riddled with the tiniest mistakes that Kurt's proofreading eyes catch and edit for him, whenever it is he asks Kurt for a second opinion on his English papers. Kurt is smart with impressive ingenuity. Sam can't risk him finding out after the first note. That's just plain embarrassing.

It takes him a few times to vocalize his thoughts, what he wants Quinn to scribble down in the note, and he blushes all the while doing it, because she's giving him this look the entire time, which consists of a small smile and knowing hazel eyes and way too much patience despite how he mumbles and shuffles his feet against the library carpet. She even throws in some helpful ideas of her own, which is kind of weird since they dated and everything, but it's certainly appreciated.

"You know, I would've never imagined that we'd be in such similar situations," she says when she finishes and hands the note back to him, both of them holding the paper delicately. Her words are cryptic, hiding some deep meaning that he doesn't find right away, so he stows the inkling away and reads over what she wrote.

– The first thing, or pair of things IDK, I noticed about you were your eyes. I think it's partly because I totally have this weird fetish for pretty eyes, that's what Quinn calls it at least, but when I first met you, I had to stop myself from just staring at you like a creeper, because I couldn't figure out what color yours were, and they were really, really pretty. I don't think you noticed, since you were talking about your super powers LOL! –

It takes him a moment to realize that he had actually laughed aloud near the end of his dictation and Quinn had dutifully written down, and he laughs again and hugs her tightly. It really does fit in perfectly, he admits.

He slips the note into Kurt's locker before glee club rehearsal, because Kurt always goes to his locker before rehearsal. He doesn't feel creepy about knowing that at all, he feels proud for his professional reconnaissance. Okay, maybe a little creepy, but it's all necessary.

He rushes into the choir room afterward, ignoring the way Mike laughs at his haste, and sits down near Mercedes, only one seat in between them – Kurt's obviously going to sit next to her, and Sam is pretty excited to see Kurt's reaction. Mercedes gives him a side-long stare, and he realizes that the pain in his cheeks is from the wide grin he's sporting. It's probably not a good idea to let his excitement show on his face.

Mike is still snickering at him. Sam wishes he had something to chuck at the back of his head.

Tina enters the room with Kurt sauntering – sashaying, strutting, some word to describe the prominent movement of his hips that Sam's eyes follows like a metronome – in beside her, and he's wearing a white dress shirt under a low-cut sweater that Sam doesn't know the name for, not that it's important, because those jeans where denim is stretched over long legs like spandex and those boots with tons of buckles that stop just beneath Kurt's knees, awakening some dormant fetish that Sam's pretty sure never existed before Kurt Hummel.

As Sam predicted, Kurt immediately sits between he and Mercedes. Mr. Schuester starts the lesson, which consists of writing an acronym on the board and underlining, so Sam takes that as his cue to pay attention to more important things. Unfortunately, Kurt is leaned toward Mercedes, whispering something that Sam can only catch snippets of, and it sounds like they're both joking about giving Tina dirty looks for ditching them on Valentine's Day for Mike.

Sam figures it's one of those "girl world" things he'll never understand since he's not a girl, or gay.

Finally, Kurt sits back in his seat, though his eyes – his eyes – aren't focused on their coach. In fact, it looks like he's staring pretty hard at the back of Quinn's head, like he's trying to pierce straight into her brain to find something. Sam thinks that's pretty weird – he also thinks it's pretty weird that Quinn is sitting so close to Rachel, not that it's related or anything – but he's on a mission, and he can't focus on little things.

He cranes over toward Kurt. "Hey, dude."

Sam knows exactly what response he's going to get before Kurt even turns a glare toward him. He considers himself an expert in Kurtology. "How many times have I told you not to call me dude?" Kurt snips back. Of course Sam knows that Kurt doesn't like being called "dude", but despite his feelings – and the fact that Kurt is one of the prettiest people Sam's ever seen, Sam still thinks of Kurt as one of the boys, and he wants Kurt to know that. Even if he does want to kiss him.

"Sorry, man," Sam shrugs with an intrepid grin. Kurt rolls his eyes, but Sam can see the edges of his mouth curled up, and he hopes that maybe – just maybe, it has something to do with the note and not as much from humor. "Anything cool happen to you today?" he asks casually. The question is probably as awkward as it sounds.

Kurt doesn't seem to notice, pursing his lips at their teacher. "That has yet to be determined, but it has the potential to be very…" he turns to Sam with a quirked eyebrow, "cool."

"What happened?" Sam figures that if he sounds more clueless in the beginning, Kurt is less likely to trace the message to him. Quinn made it both vague and specific in an attempt throw Kurt off any trail, and he thinks she did a good job, but he doesn't plan on being discovered early.

"You'll find out later on."

"Why not now?" Sam pries furtively. Kurt's detached disposition is throwing him off a little bit, not at all like the excitement he'd envisioned on Kurt's face when he'd walked into the room. It bugs him a little; maybe the message had been too vague if it sent Kurt ambiguous signals.

Sam hopes his heist hasn't tanked before it's had the chance to begin.

Kurt's lips morph into a teasing smile – most things about Kurt seem to tease him, he realizes, and yeah, it's pretty damn cute. "You're very inquisitive today, you know. Any particular reason for that?"

Outwardly, Sam keeps calm and shrugs it off nonchalantly. Inwardly, he's frozen stiff and cursing his own impatience and Kurt's smile. "Not really. Just curious, I guess."

Kurt takes his words for face, and Sam lets out a quiet sigh of relief. "Don't worry. If anything good comes from it, you'll be one of the first to know," Kurt presses a hand to his left breast pocket meaningfully, not that Sam actually understands why, but–

Paranoia kicks in just one last time. Kurt words always dance around Sam when they have a conversation, and there's always something more in every little syllable if Sam's lucky enough to see it. It's one of the reasons he pays avid attention to Kurt when he speaks, despite the occasional confusion. "Why do you say that?"

Kurt gives him a peculiar look. "What do you mean, 'why'? If by chance some thin, cliché beam of light happens to shine into the Edgar Allen Poe themed novel that is my love life, then I damn well expect all of my closest friends to listen to me gab on about it for at least four hours."

Mr. Schuester gives them a stern glance which immediately halts any further conversation, but Sam can't find himself being too bothered by it. Kurt considers him one of his closest friends and, while that isn't the same as saying he wants to make out in the custodian's closet after rehearsal, it's still pretty awesome.

However, it doesn't top what Sam sees when he surreptitiously peeks into Kurt's shirt pocket and finds the sharp edges of his note poking out – right over Kurt's heart! That makes Sam's day.

––

Mike writes the second note for him the next day during lunch.

Mike's handwriting is better than his by far, small and measured with no unnecessary curls or edges, almost like watching a printer…print. It's different from Quinn's, who takes her time to flesh and smooth out almost every letter like something from a fifteenth century document, so it should throw Kurt off even more. He considers this note more personal than the last.

– I already had our duet picked out, before, y'know, stuff. It was gonna be Just to Hear You Say I Love You by Faith Hill and Tim McGraw. I know now that you're not in to country music, but I've always wanted to sing that song with a partner and you had the perfect voice for it, even though it was a love song. I'm still kinda hoping you'll do it with me, actually. –

Mike isn't very comfortable with writing the note, and for a moment, Sam worries that his friend isn't as comfortable with his homosexuality as he always seemed to be – until Mike voices his qualm over the din of the cafeteria. "If Kurt's with you, he's totally not gonna be down for a threesome with me and Tee," Mike whines. Sam socks him in the arm after that, even though there's a twinge in the front of his boxers at the image. He's files the proposal away for later.

Sam begs Mike – or rather guilts Mike with the fact that he helped him find the perfect Jack Skellington plush doll for his eccentric girlfriend – into slipping the note into Kurt's possession later on. Mike and Kurt have a few classes together, both being in the advanced curriculum that Sam isn't in, and even though Mike is lanky and walks awkwardly, he's smooth and as close to a ninja as a normal person could get without any combat ability, and Sam needs to utilize those skills to his advantage.

After Mike has finished his task – he apparently slipped the note into one of Kurt's textbooks when he wasn't paying attention during AP Biology – Sam almost skips on his way to the choir room, except he doesn't because that's not manly, and Mike would probably join in.

Only, when he and Mike actually arrive in the choir room, what Sam finds waiting for them is not an excited Kurt, but an annoyed Tina leaning against the piano, which is a strange sight since she's typically always in a good mood, despite the somber colors of her clothes. When they're in sight, she glares at them and halts their progress at the door.

"Kurt just texted me and told me he saw you stick a love note in one of his books." Mike appears panicked, and Sam questions his ninja skills. Tina surveys the room to make sure no one else is paying attention, then hisses at Mike, "I told you not to ask him about the threesome unless I'm with you. Your note probably made us sound like perverts or something."

Sam thinks they are perverts, but Tina's nails are really sharp and she has no idea he's included in the mess, so he stays silent and imagines their threesome. Then, he clears his head quickly, because Tina's blocking the path to his seat, and if he suddenly slouches over to hide a boner he won't be able to hide it.

"It's not like that, Tee," Mike holds out his hands in front of him, probably to protect himself from potential backlash. "I was just helping Sam, I swear! I was totally gonna wait for you, but Sam has this huge crush on Kurt, so he wrote this secret note and I had to – mf frm ertt!"

Sam has slapped his hand over Mike's mouth before he can say anything else, because he hadn't been aware that Mike would crack so easily under pressure – he crosses Mike off his list of potential partners for future heists. No one else in the room appears to have heard though, and Sam's been meaning to get help from Tina, so it's not a crisis.

Tina crosses her arms and looks at him curiously, not at all surprised like he'd expected. Sam squirms under her scrutiny. "I don't think having other boys give Kurt semi-anonymous letters is a good way to show you like him," Tina says in a way that makes him feel kind of dumb, so he glares petulantly at her.

"Well, he wasn't supposed to see Mike give him the note." Sam socks Mike in the arm again for good measure. Mike whimpers pitifully and rubs his arm, but Sam's unhappy with him, so he doesn't care. Okay, he doesn't care a lot. He'll apologize later. "Plus, the note's personal, kind of. I don't think he'll think it's Mike sending them…," Sam trails off, because given recent findings, he can't be too sure about Kurt and Mike's relationship.

Tina's sigh snaps him out of his suspicions before they can begin. "Just in case, Mike," she points a stern finger at her boyfriend and narrows her eyes, "when Kurt tries to grill you for information, just keep silent. You're the best at that, and he'll eventually get annoyed with you and give up." Mike nods obediently.

She's about to give Sam a command when Kurt walks in, holding his books to his chest and looking as prim and pretty and proper as ever. The group of them go silent, and Kurt eyes them all charily – especially Mike – as he glides past, finding his seat next to Mercedes. Sam exhales the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

Tina reaches forward and grabs Mike's wrist before speaking. "Text me later. I'll try and make sure you don't mess up, but I won't guarantee anything. Don't bother Kurt too much today or you'll incriminate yourself now that he's got a lead." And then she drags Mike away to their seats.

Sam's pretty sure she's the better ninja.

––

Tina writes the third note for him before they head to the Lima Bean.

Sam knows that, if Kurt recognizes Tina's handwriting as well as the others, he'll definitely focus on all the guys the glee club. Quinn and Mike still have plenty of friends outside the club, so Kurt couldn't be sure, but Tina's note would solidify any doubts. It means he has to be more careful and less of…himself – which is a combination of awkward and clumsy and goofy and so very conspicuous.

As Tina planned, Sam sits with she and Mike in a secluded corner of the café – or, as secluded as they can find. His only real method of disguise is a Tennessee Smokies baseball cap to cover his bright blond hair.

Ten minutes later, Quinn comes through the door, Kurt and Mercedes in tow, and steps up the counter. It's her job to distract Kurt and Mercedes after they order so Sam can make his move unseen. Apparently Quinn has big news for them and can ensure that they'll be distracted. Sam kind of wants to eavesdrop to hear, but knows he has a bigger mission to fulfill.

After each of them order and move over to where the receiving counter, Tina shoves Sam out of his seat, "Go! Quick! Now!" He doesn't glare back at her, even if he nearly knocks his head into the side of a neighboring table and gives himself a concussion. He rushes up to the cashier, who eyes his haste warily.

He fumbles trying to pull the note out of his jean pocket, and curses himself for not having it out and ready beforehand. Neither Kurt nor Mercedes has noticed him despite the close proximity, as they're both busy clucking and gabbing over whatever it was Quinn told them. Kurt's saying something about being knowledgeable about what Quinn and Rachel are going through. Mercedes is talking about a broken gaydar, and he's really curious but he has to hurry.

He holds the heart out to the cashier and says lowly, "Could you please, please give this to the brunette guy over there with his coffee? And, uh, don't tell him what I look like," Sam points to Kurt from behind the muffin case, not that there's a good reason for that since Kurt is pretty occupied.

The cashier rolls her eyes, muttering something unkindly about Valentine's Day and boys, but she takes the paper and trudges over to the serving counter. Sam breathes his thanks and quickly weaves around tables and exits, knowing Tina and Mike were already in the car, as instructed.

Something catches in his stomach, and he stops at the window of the café and peers inside. Tina will be pissed at him for not following through the plan perfectly, but Sam needs to see Kurt's reaction if he can. The espionage is exciting without a doubt, and he feels pretty much like Batman, but if Kurt's not happy and excited with him…well, he hasn't thought that far ahead.

Kurt is still at the receiving counter, and he's holding up the note in his hands as if it's a pair of vintage monogram sterling silver cufflinks – that's the fanciest thing that Sam can think of – and his eyes are wide and sparkling, and the corners of his mouth twitching up slowly. Sam feels validated, knowing by heart what's in the note.

– You're one of the most trustworthy people I know. I kinda doubted you at first, because I know you and Mercedes like to gossip and junk, and I'm sorry in advance for that, because you're always awesome about everything. If I had known how amazing you are back then, I wouldn't have hesitated to tell you everything. I can never thank you enough for your friendship and your help. –

Kurt's starting to look around the building in search for someone familiar, so Sam hurries to Mike's car, feeling refreshed.

––

Brittany writes the fourth note for him against the door of her locker on Thursday.

Sam wasn't sure how exactly to include her into his operation before Tina gave him an idea, and he doesn't want to be at fault for Brittany's sadness at being excluded, but Brittany completely lacks a brain to mouth filter, and he's pretty sure that if someone doesn't cover her mouth each time one over her words begins with the letter 'S', she'll end up spilling Sam's name without Kurt even having to ask. It's a frightening prospect.

But Tina knows Brittany well and knows how her brain works, which is kind of weird and gives Sam the image of Tina dissecting Brittany's brain, but it's helpful. She knows that Brittany has the tendency to forget things that aren't related to dancing or cats or Santana after a prolonged period of information intake – say, one class period's worth of time – so the chances of her actually remembering that the note is from Sam would be low.

Mike suggests Brittany give the note to Kurt directly since she won't spill. Sam thinks that the chances of her actually remembering to deliver the note are low as well, but when Mike gives her the heart in the hallway, just one period before she'll see Kurt, he mentions cats in his directions multiple times.

No, really, Mike just throws the word "cat" in between every other word. "Now Brittany, we cats need you to give this letter to Kurt kitty. It's very important that you cat don't forget, okay?"

It's really strange. Brittany looks vaguely confused and, well, vacant. Sam shares the sentiments.

Brittany gives Mike a hesitant nod and pockets the paper in her cheerleading jacket as she walks into her class. Mike gives Sam a confident nod and a thumbs up as they walk away. "Don't worry, this time it's foolproof," he ensures. It only serves to worry Sam more.

After gym, Sam drags Mike along with him to Kurt's locker, even though Mike is grumbling because he's still tugging on his jeans when Sam pulls him out of the locker room. They arrive just in time to see Brittany hand the note to Kurt – and to see the same sparkling in Kurt's eyes as yesterday in the Lima Bean. It still makes Sam's stomach gurgle – no, not gurgle because that sounds like he has to burp; flutter is a better word.

Tina's locker is across the hall from Kurt's, so Sam thinks he and Mike don't look too out of place when they lean against the lockers as if they're chatting, though really they're watching the show.

"Brittany, who exactly did you get this letter from?" Kurt asks eagerly.

The moment of truth arrives. Sam considers himself pretty quick, so if Brittany does say his name, maybe he can bolt into the science lab before Kurt notices him.

She doesn't though, so he's safe. "I don't remember," she shrugs.

"How do you not remember, Brit?" Kurt sounds like he's talking through gritted teeth. "Did the letter just spirit its way into your hands with my name on it?"

"Um…yes?"

"What does that even mean?"

"I don't know. All I can remember is something about cats."

Kurt crosses his arm with a cute little frown, frustration not directed at Brittany, but probably at himself for having his sarcasm be his own undoing. Mike coughs with barely contained laughter.

"What am I watching right now?"

It takes Sam a moment to realize that the voice had come from behind him, and Mike was right in front of him. He and Mike jump – in a completely masculine way – away from Santana, who has suddenly appeared behind him, leaning back against the lockers and staring at Brittany and Kurt with a furrowed eyebrow. Kurt is tapping his foot irately while Brittany draws abstract diagrams in the air with her fluffy-tipped pen, diagrams that probably only make sense to her.

"Santana! Uh…what're you doing here?" Sam questions fearfully.

"I'm here asking why you're using my girl like she's a tool for one of your stupid little games," Santana answers. She sounds kind of pissed off, and that's not good. Bad things always happen when Santana is pissed off or sad or happy or bored or–

Sam's mind flails trying to come up with a cogent tale to distract her with, but nothing sounds believable, certainly not enough to trip her up. Mike is as unhelpfully silent as he always is around Santana – something about her sight being based off sound like a bat, echo-whatever.

He settles for the truth though he's afraid of her vindictiveness, since lies will only make her angrier. They're still pretty close to Kurt and Brittany, but Sam knows Santana won't move if he asks, so he leans in close and whispers, "I'm – uh, Brittany's helping me with Kurt...I mean, being Kurt's secret…admirer, and junk." He blushes and scratches the back of head of his head uncomfortably.

Santana's response is immediate – an amused snort. "Really? You finally come out of the closet and you decide to come twirling out in ass-less leather chaps and high heels with a big rainbow-colored banner that shouts your love for the gayest gay in Lima?" Her volume doesn't lower any and she tilts her head to the side. "Only you, grouper."

Sam is decidedly annoyed with her description, and with the fact that, out of the five people who recently learned of his feelings for Kurt, no one was surprised. What the hell? He knows he can't be that obvious. "You're not gonna tell him, are you?" Sam half asks, half pleads.

There's a pregnant pause before she says anything; Sam worries that she's considering how hilarious it'll be to spoil his secret. "No. He'll just gush like a little girl and I'll have to watch you try and swallow his face." She pushes off from the lockers and approaches Kurt and Brittany.

Through her insults – both subtle and obvious – and her trademark attitude, Sam knows that her words hold a bit of unexpected backhanded encouragement. He appreciates it.

"She said she doesn't know anything. Back off, Casper!" Santana sneers at Kurt and drags Brittany away with her. Kurt doesn't seem bothered. In fact, as soon as the two girls are out of sight, his eyes fly to them. Mike waves to him stiffly before walking away. Sam glares at the back of Mike's head as he followed. As if they hadn't already looked strange enough, Mike's awkward exit didn't help, not to mention Sam wouldn't get to see Kurt's face while he read the note.

– You had the best body rolls out of every guy, even me. When you did them on stage, holy fuck. I almost popped a boner right there in front of everyone! I didn't look you for the rest of the night since I didn't want us to lose for indecency again, but damn. –

He remembers seeing that Brittany's handwriting is filled with huge curls and that she uses smile faces and hearts to dot her letters. She filled the margins with doodles of glee club couples that Sam can just barely make out, all with hearts above their conjoined stick hands: Brittany and Santana; Tina and Mike; Sugar and Artie; Puck and Lauren; Quinn and…Rachel?; and yes, he and Kurt have a drawing too.

Only, their heart has a question mark inside of it.

––

On Thursday night, Sam doesn't get the chance to write the fifth note immediately.

Per Tina's instruction, Sam had distanced himself from Kurt when they were at home as not to draw Kurt's attention to him, or so he was less likely to screw up. He doesn't really know.

It's a problem, since Sam misses the ability to go in Kurt's room without apprehension and fear of blunder. He misses sitting on Kurt's expensive comforters and asking pointless questions about each cream that Kurt spreads on his face every night, and having Kurt explain each one's purpose patiently. He misses begging Kurt to play video games with him and Finn, even though Kurt spends the entire time complaining or texting. He misses webcam chatting with his family in Tennessee and bringing Kurt on screen to surprise Stevie and Stacy, who squeal with joy no matter how many times they've already seen him.

He misses Kurt.

He decides that admiring in secret totally blows, but he's already made too much progress to quit. Even so, he completely ignores Tina's instruction after dinner and bounds up the stairs to Kurt's room. No, he still doesn't fully trust his mouth, but he doesn't care too much at this point.

Kurt's door is halfway open, so Sam peeks inside to see what he's doing without worry of being a peep. Kurt's back is facing him, already in his pajamas, and he's giggling and wiggling on the seat of his bed. It looks and sounds adorable, and it makes Sam smile so widely. He's glad that Santana is nowhere near him to see it.

When Sam knocks on the door politely – he's a gentleman, and gentleman don't peep – Kurt gasps and whips around, one hand held to his chest, the other behind his back, and he's flushing lightly, rose painting both his cheeks and tip of nose. Yes, Sam does want to know what he's hiding, really badly, but Kurt's a private person, so he doesn't ask about it – or, at least, not right away.

"Uh, are you busy or something? I can come back later if you want…" Sam starts to back of the room, but Kurt shakes his vehemently to stop him.

"No, stay!" Kurt demands, then catches himself and clears throat. "I mean, you can stay if you want. I'm not busy." Sam doesn't plan on tell Kurt that he sortofmaybe likes when he orders him around just yet. That's Tina and Mike level freaky, almost.

"Cool," Sam tries to sit near the foot of the bed so can see what's behind Kurt's back, but Kurt immediately brings his legs underneath himself and twists around, giving Sam a challenging eyebrow. Sam huffs and gives up, deciding instead to lie supine on the bed, arms stretched wide.

Kurt scoots closer to Sam's left arm and picks idly at lint on his sleeve, something Sam recognizes as a nervous habit. "I feel like I haven't seen you in a while. What've you been up to?" he asks with airy tone, and the words are too casual and devoid of any humor to sound natural. Or maybe Sam just notices too much about him.

It still makes Sam a little edgy. "Uhh…nothing much," he drawls. "Lots of school work and stuff. Why, did you miss me?" He doesn't expect any real answer. Kurt is pretty boss at playing coy, so–

"Yes, actually, I did," Kurt sounds surprised with his own answer. The frankness catches Sam off guard, and his mind blanks out for a moment. Kurt missed him? How awesome is that? "Maybe I've grown accustomed to having a sidekick after a month or so of living with you."

"'Sidekick'?" Sam props himself up on an elbow at that nugget. There are so many thing right and wrong with what Kurt has said. "You think of me as your sidekick?"

"Yes, I do."

Sam, in the vibrant spectrum of his imagination, has envisioned Kurt and he as superhero partners. He's envisioned Kurt as his sidekick, sort of like the homoerotic undertones of Batman and Robin – except not subtle, like, at all. He's envisioned himself as the superhero and Kurt as his man-damsel-in-distress – because Kurt is totally like Lois Lane. Never is he the sidekick.

And okay, maybe he should leave it alone since Kurt thinks of him as close, but he can't be impressive if he's not the hero! "Why am I the sidekick? I should be the badass hero!"

Kurt scoffs at him and runs a hand over his hair – not the one hidden behind his back, unfortunately. "I don't think so. You're much more suitable for the role of the gratuitously energetic understudy than I am."

"Dude, I'm way more Batman than you are, don't even kid around," Sam grins cheekily. He's ready to rush to his room and break out his vintage comic books to prove his case if need be.

"Maybe you have the physique to fill out that monotonous gray spandex suit of his, but if I remember the movies correctly, Batman is a tad stealthier than your average good Samaritan, yes?" Sam nods his affirmation. "In that case, I don't think you'd fit the part very well."

There's something about the way the Kurt says that brings the edginess back. Sure, Sam's pretty openly awkward with his movements and everything, but he's not at Finn level, and Kurt zeroed-in on a pretty particular aspect. "…why do you say that?" he asks carefully.

Kurt starts to do that thing he was doing earlier, the little giggly-wiggly thing, only it's scarier this time. "Oh, no reason," he says with a voice that's too light not to have hidden meaning, then, he finally reveals what's been behind his back the entire time.

It's one of the heart notes. Sam can't tell which of the four it is behind Kurt's fingers, but it looks a lot more crinkled than it had before, as if it'd been opened and folded repeatedly. Sam wants to smile at that thought, until he remembers that he's not suppose to know what it just yet.

"Uh, what's that?" he asks with as much feigned bewilderment as he can muster. He thinks it sounds believable, given how prone to confusion he is.

Sam gets a brief glimpse of Kurt's sunny grin before it's hidden behind the note, Kurt holding it up to cover his mouth. He tilts his head, "As if you don't know."

Suddenly, Kurt's incredulity of his stealth abilities made sense.

God dammit.

"Aw, come on! Really?" Sam jumps to his feet and runs a frustrated hand through his shaggy locks, glaring at Kurt, whose shoulders are shaking with mirth, and whose knowing eyes are crinkled from the grin hidden behind the origami heart. "Who told you?" Sam asks, trying to resist the urge to pout unhappily, but he can't help it. After all the work and effort and time he's put into being sneaky and keeping his allies quiet, Kurt still found him out. And it's only Thursday!

Kurt shakes his head, "No one told me – no one had to tell me." Sam's glad that his friends remained loyal. Conversely, he's annoyed that he has no one to be angry with but himself. He considers focusing some of it on Kurt for being too damn smart.

"Well, how the hell did you know it was me then?" Sam's arms flail out uselessly around him with undirected aggression.

Kurt soundlessly slides off the bed and begins to open the note. "Well, I didn't know when you had Quinn write your thoughts during our first meeting, and I didn't know when Mike wrote your choice for the duet that never was." Kurt walks around his bed until he's in front of Sam, grin almost splitting his face. "Buuut, after the third heart, I noticed something that every note had in common."

Kurt holds the paper up to Sam's face and points to the bottom left margin where…a miniature Darth Vader was etched into the paper. "Besides Artie, I only know one person who would have a notebook filled with drawings of a Star Trek character–"

"Star Wars," Sam mutters over his protruding bottom lip.

"Whatever," Kurt rolls his eyes. "After that, all the pieces fell into place." He tosses the note onto the bed behind him. "I'm…very flattered that you enjoyed my rendition of your body roll," he flushes attractively.

Sam coughs and shifts his weight from one foot to the other, trying to hide his mortification and his disappointment in himself. "You, uh, you weren't suppose to find out until Valentine's Day. I had a whole thing planned out…more notes and…chocolate." He knows he's being puerile, but it's rare for him to be romantic with someone who would reciprocate his affections, and, yeah.

"Oh?" Kurt reaches up to with both hands to fiddle with the collar of Sam's shirt. "Well…if it'd make you feel better, we could always pretend none of this happened, and I'll become the fawning recipient of your passionate admirations tomorrow," he offers.

Sam brightens up instantly. "Really?" His mind is already churning with ideas for what to write on the note for tomorrow and clever places for Kurt to find it.

Kurt nods and his hands slide down to pat Sam's chest fondly, "Really. I don't think I'll ever tire of receiving origami love notes."

"Awesome!" Sam grins, then his eyes travel down to the hands at his chest, suddenly aware of every warm fingertip guarded only by his thin cotton shirt. "So…should I go now?"

"Probably, but first…" Kurt leans forward and presses the softest kiss against Sam's mouth. It doesn't last long enough – he barely gets a feel of Kurt's petal-soft lips – and Kurt pulls away just when Sam's ready to start moving his lips, which is so unfair. Sam goes in for another, intending to make it last more than two seconds, but the hands at his chest stop any advance.

"Happy pre-Valentine's Day," Kurt smiles. Sam returns it full force and tries to sneak another kiss, until Kurt begins to push him back, moving until Sam is outside the doorway. "Now, shoo," Kurt says before shutting the door.

Sam smirks and leans against the wall near the door. He's sure now that admiring in the open is a hell of a lot better than admiring in secret. He already knows what he'll put on his next note; short and sweet.

– You're such a fucking tease. –