Feeling beleaguered, as was his normal state as of late, Kurt entered the choir room behind Tina and took a seat beside Mercedes as Mr. Shue began one of his relentlessly cheerful lessons.

"All right guys, let's get down to business," the teacher began, motioning toward the front row. "First, let's welcome back Noah Puckerman. Puck, I hope your time in juvie has taught you a lesson about right and wrong."

Slouched in his chair, Puck replied, "Are you kidding me? I ruled that place. All I did was crack skulls and lift weights all day."

From her seat in the back beside Sam, Quinn murmured, "Wow, what a catch. Can't believe I ever let you go."

Ignoring their banter, Mr. Shue continued, "And now, drumroll Finn, because I have in my hand our competition for Sectionals next month."

Excited hoots and murmurs filled the room and Kurt perked up a bit in interest. At least this might get his mind off of the constant torment he faced from Karofsky.

"First, the acappella choir from the all boys private school in Westerville, The Dalton Academy Warblers."

Santana snorted. "Okay, hold up, like a million awesome gay jokes just popped into my mind."

Of course, Mr. Shue totally ignored Santana's comment. "And the other team to beat, The Hipsters, a first-year club from the Warren Township continuing education program. Now, they are glee club composed entirely of elderly people getting their high school GED's."

Straightening in her seat, Rachel asked, "Is that legal?"

"How are we supposed to compete against a bunch of adorable old people?" Mercedes asked, just as a surprising voice piped up from the back row.

"The Warblers are awesome."

Sam Evans, the club's newest member, tended not to speak much during their meetings, content to let the other, more forceful members of the club have the spotlight. His easy-going nature and casual acceptance of Kurt's sexuality had earned him a place in Kurt's good graces, but, in general, the boy was just pretty scenery.

"You've heard them perform?" Rachel demanded, whipping around in her seat to stare at Sam. "When?"

Blinking under her scrutiny, Sam made a vague gesture. "I went to Dalton last year."

All around the room, hackles immediately raised in Finn popped to his feet. "Dude! Are you a spy?"

Ah, the fall out of Jesse St. James.

Face crumpling in confusion, Sam replied, "Uh, no…though that would be cool, being a spy. Not now, but like James Bond…."

No, Kurt was almost certain Sam didn't have it in him to conduct inter-club espionage.

"Our experiences last year taught us a thing or two about trusting rivals," Rachel said, glaring at Sam unhappily.

Santana heaved an annoyed sigh. "Oh, please. Blondie isn't Douchenozzel St. Hairdo. There ain't no master plan lurking around in that empty little head."

Rolling his eyes, Sam quirked a little smile at Santana. "I really appreciate your ability to defend and insult me in the same breath."

"It's a skill."

"Still, how do we know Sam's not a spy?" Mercedes asked, not sounding accusatory, just cautious.

"Guys, Sam is one of you," Mr. Shue finally chose to step in with that simple statement. "We can't let one bad experience make us paranoid."

It was sad that he didn't understand that sometimes paranoia was a necessary survival skill.

"Spying is against Warbler bylaws. It's 'unseemly'," Sam informed him, clearly quoting someone, then smiling. "I was never a Warbler. The academics at Dalton were brutal and I barely managed to keep my soccer scholarship as it was, so I didn't have the time…Still, Wes would smack me with his little hammer if there was even a whiff of foul play."

"Who's Wes?" Artie interjected. "And why does he have a hammer?"

Sam grinned. "Wes is the head of the Warbler Council. He bangs the hammer on his desk to call their meetings to order. Blaine says he's unnaturally attached to it. Like Thor to Mjolnir."

There was something in Sam's tone, a softness, that made the hair on the back of Kurt's neck prickle. "Who's Blaine?" he asked, turning in time to see Sam go tense.

"He's the Warbler's lead soloist," came the quiet reply. "He's…amazing."

"Dude," Puck said, craning his neck back to smirk at Sam. "Reel it in. Sounds like you're in love with the guy."

Sam's eyes dropped to the scuffed toes of his sneakers and his hands clenched on the sides of his chair, knuckles going white and Kurt felt his breath catch in his chest as the first whisper of realization began to form in his mind.

"I am," Sam murmured, not looking at anyone, just sitting there, frozen and tense. "He's my boyfriend."

There was a moment of silence in the room before Kurt's own shuddering breath seemed to echo and Finn, flailing vaguely at Sam, then Kurt, blurted, "You're gay? But…you're like…a regular guy."

Kurt rolled his eyes at the obvious implication that he wasn't normal.

Crossing his arms defensively, Sam frowned and looked up. "Okay, that's just…I don't even know, but it's wrong to say stuff like that. Gay, bi, straight, were all just guys…and, for me, it's the person, not the parts."

"What?" Finn was clearly confused by that statement.

"He's bi," Santana clarified, then cocked her head to the side. "Though if y'all are putting those lips to the use God clearly created them for you can probably just say gay."

"I don't like labels. Just call me Captain Jack."

"Torchwood," Tina murmured, earning knowing nods from Mike and Artie and a smile from Sam.

"So," Puck said and Kurt braced himself for a potentially disgusting comment. "Dudes and chicks…you, like, double your chance of getting laid at any given time, huh?"

For Puck that was actually diplomatic and kind.

Sam flushed. "That's one way of looking at it, I guess."

Unclenching his jaw, Kurt asked, "How does your boyfriend feel about you being in the closet? Or is he in there with you?"

Sam's eyes held a mix of hurt and understanding when he looked at Kurt. "We were out at Dalton. The school has a zero-tolerance policy for bullying. Our families know…but then when I transferred here Blaine got a little freaked out, he got hurt bad at the public school he went to before, so he didn't want me to risk it if I didn't have to."

A part of Kurt wondered if he was more like Sam, more overtly a stereotypical boy, interested in sports, movies with explosions and ludicrous plot lines and lacking any fashion sense, would he have tried to fly under the radar? Surely it would've been easier than the constant harassment.

"If Dalton is so awesome, why'd you transfer here?" Finn asked, clearly latching back onto the spy idea as it made him less uncomfortable.

Sam shrugged. "My parents moved to Lima. It was close enough that I could still see Blaine and live with my family. I missed them so much in the classes here don't make me want to bang my head on the desk and cry."

"Why are you telling us now?" Kurt prompted and Sam sighed.

"Because I trust you guys and I'm sick of hiding a part of myself… And now we're going to sing against the Warblers and I should warn you all that I'm probably going to be stupidly sappy one Blaine's on stage, but I'll do my best for the team when we are!"

A few more questions were asked and answered, but Kurt wasn't really listening, lost in his own head. After all this time of feeling so achingly alone, there was someone who just might be able to understand some of what he was feeling…and yet, how could Sam understand him?

Sure, he got picked on as much as any other member of glee club, but it wasn't the same as the torment Kurt faced….

"Hey, dude, please say something."

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Kurt saw that the choir room had emptied out, save for Sam and himself. The blonde had relocated to a chair next to his and was looking at him with concerned eyes.

"Are you coming out to everyone or just us?" Kurt murmured, feeling a tear rolled down his face. "Because I've tried to stay strong about it, would being good gay kid here is… There's this Neanderthal who's made it his life mission to make my life a living hell and no one cares. It'll happen to you too and no one will care. You have no idea what it's like…."

Sam heaved a sigh and rubbed his neck. "I really don't. I've been lucky… You know, you should maybe talk with Blaine. He's better advice and stuff then I am, but if you want to talk to me that's cool too."

The awkward, good intentioned ramble was actually slightly comforting, "You're the first boy my age I've talked to who… Are you scared?"

Pressing his lips together, Sam gave a short nod. "Yeah, I am. I'm not looking forward to whatever will get tossed my way, but my brother and sister… I don't want them to catch shit because me."

It would probably happen. Kurt was sure his father still faced scorn and comments because of him. "How old are they?"

"Eight," Sam replied fondly. "Stevie's really sensitive. I'll probably have to talk with him before anything happens. Stacy too, but she's more likely to get mad and bite someone."

That made Kurt let out a shaky laugh. "I'm going to warn you, Karofsky is the worst. Slushees, being slammed to lockers, tossed into dumpsters, I got used to that. Taunts and stupid, ignorant comments, I expect it, but Karofsky terrifies me."

Sam gazed at him pensively. "I'd ask if you told a teacher, but even I know they're not a lot of help. Why haven't you told the rest of us before?"

"What would I say? What would happen? None of the guys would understand and the girls wouldn't be able to do anything. As amazing as they are, Cro-Magnons like Karofsky only respond to physical intimidation."

"I'll try to get him to lay off," Sam promised earnestly and Kurt sighed.

"They'll just make and torment you," he said, waving a hand at Sam. "Not to belittle your impressive physique, but he's a good bit bigger than you."

"Split his focus, divide and conquer," Sam insisted. "It's one of the basic rules of gaming and I can totally apply here."

"It's my cross to bear," Kurt insisted, feeling a sudden rush of protectiveness toward Sam. He was young and so clearly wanted to help, thought he could actually do something to make things better…
You don't need to tell anyone outside the club."

Sam's eyes narrowed a bit. "Hiding hurts too," he said bluntly. "I never knew that. My family might look like a poster for blue-collar, country fried, apple pie values, but we are progressive. It was never even a thought in my head that I shouldn't like both guys and girls. I had crushes in middle school, but was too awkward and nerdy to do anything, then there was Dalton and no judgment…then here. It's…."

He trailed off and Kurt held his tongue, wanting to know what the other boy was trying to say. Kurt had plenty of words to describe McKinley himself, but he didn't want to speak for Sam.

"It's like being choked," Sam finally said, sitting back in his chair. "There's so much anger in the air and I don't know why or why no one else seems to feel it."

Kurt wondered if the anger Sam was talking about was the same thinly veiled hostility that he felt constantly at McKinley. Even closeted, Sam was clearly aware that a lot of people at McKinley gave off negative energy though he wasn't aware that it was focused at Kurt.

The atmosphere created was oppressive and not entirely unlike being choked. Kurt nodded at the statement, then realize Sam might also be referring to how it felt not be open about a part of himself.

As if navigating adolescence and high school wasn't hard enough….

"A lot of your football teammates won't be happy," Kurt said softly and Sam shrugged.

"They already hate me," he mused. "You should come to the game on Friday. Blaine usually sits my family. We could all talk after."

Kurt stared. "Your boyfriend goes to your football games?"

"If he doesn't have a concert or something, yeah. He'd probably play himself, but…." Sam trailed off with a fond smile and Kurt couldn't help but prompt.

"Why doesn't he play?"

"Uh, well, football players tend to be on the larger side… I mean, Mike and I are the little guys on the Titans. Blaine's a badass, but he's more…compact."

"More of a Scott Caan than and Alex O'Laughlin," Kurt mused, then, at Sam's blank look, clarified, "The new Hawaii Five 0."

"Oh… I watch Castle," Sam said with a grin. "Us Browncoats got to follow Captain Mal!"

"What?"

"Browncoats… Firefly… Joss Whedon," Sam rambled. "Unjustly canceled awesome space Western!"

Shaking his head in amusement, Kurt said, "It's probably a good thing you're bi, because I don't know any girls who would understand half of what you talk about. I know I don't."

"Blaine and I are big old nerds together."

Of course. "Please tell me he at least knows what Singing in the Rain is."

Sam nodded agreeably. "Oh yeah, he's into musicals and stuff. We watched Singing in the Rain a couple of weeks ago after a told them you mentioned it. This weekend is bringing West Side Story. Have you seen it?"

"Of course. It's a classic," Kurt replied, keeping a hold of his sharper reply, because at least Sam was trying. Clearly, his boyfriend somehow had broad ranging tastes if he knew both his musicals and the things that appealed to Sam. "So, Friday night, you said?"

Knowing he wasn't alone helped.

Not as much as having Karofsky suddenly transfer schools would help, but it was a start.