Misunderstanding

Kurt, brains of the operation for the most part. His experience with girls has always been minimal but he's perfectly fine with that.
He is content with his life, the one that revolved around music, producing, and his best friend.

Then there was Sam. He loved music, that didn't mean keeping things together was so easy. He loved the stage, singing his heart out whenever he could (thank goodness for neighbors who didn't complain!), and of course working with Kurt.

"Sometimes, I wish I could be calm and collected like him. Oh, and be taller than him... It'll happen someday!"

"When he's talking so fast and you're just there, time goes by so fast. It's amusing, it's Sam."

~

Arm resting over his eyes, the sound of cars outside along with a dog howling at the moon wasn't preventing sleep from coming to him.
That voice in his head wouldn't shut up till he did something about it.
Sitting up, he turns on his lamp and pulls out a photo from his drawer. It was worn and a little torn around the edges, one of the only priceless possessions he owned besides his guitar.
It was a photo of him and Sam, back stage of the Bonnie Hunt show. The younger man had that smile of his that could light up an entire room, Kurt holding him in a playful headlock as he takes the picture with one hand.
A flood of memories hit him as the photo falls to the floor.

~

Grabbing around blindly for his phone, the young man groans in frustration as he picks up without even checking the caller I.D.

"Do you realize what time it is?" voice husky from sleep, annoyance clear.

"Oh, sorry. I just couldn't sleep and-"

"Kurt? You alright?" as always, cutting him off before he could finish.
There's a silence on the other end that gets the other man nervous.

"Kurt-" the call goes dead and Sam panics, texting as fast as he possibly can to figure out what just happened.

"...Fuck." he curses under his breath when the worst possible scenario comes to him.
Kurt's finally fed up with him, he probably didn't have the heart to tell him he's done with it all. Sam always getting the camera time, the credit (though he tried his best to make sure Kurt was recognized with him), the fangirls, while he put everything together like a pro behind the scenes.
Or maybe even worse... maybe he'd finally caught on to Sam's infatuation.

~

Pulling up a seat next to his keyboard, he sighs as if the world has suddenly crashed down upon his head. He takes a scrawl of paper out of his pocket and reads it over.

Why I like him.

-He sits with me at lunch
-We take the same bus routes
-Mom thinks he's nice, I can hang out with him

The handwriting gets neater as the list goes on.

-Voice of an angel
-YALE WITH ME
-Amazing jawline
-Took care of me when I had chicken pox for the first time
-That little mole on the side of his neck is cute (it's crossed out, 'no homo' printed neatly in tiny print in the margin)
-Beautiful eyes
-Butterflies when he looks at me

the list went on and he pulls at his hair in frustration, brown locks thinning prematurely from the constant abuse.

He couldn't possibly have been gay for his best friend for so long and just realize it NOW. Was he really that slow?

~

Grabbing a t-shirt, he runs as fast as he can. Blind running till his lungs are on fire, tears in his eyes from the wind hitting his face.
He might have just lost his best friend and crush since high school, his heart breaking into a million pieces as sobs shook his thin frame.
After what feels like years, he looks up in astonishment to realize what apartment building he's stopped running at.
Something tugs at his heart as he walks slowly up the stairs.
Second floor, apartment 201.
There's a moment of hesitance as he wipes the remainder of tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. Showing up at your best friend's apartment at 1am looking like a hot mess was bound make anyone uncomfortable.
He knocks on the door and shifts uncomfortably, tempted to run for a minute till the door opens.
Face to face with a very confused Kurt, he would laugh if he weren't so exhausted from running. A piece of paper sticking from his forehead and red marks lining his face from falling asleep on the keyboard.
"...Hey Kurt."

~

Taking in the sight in front of him, the paper stuck to his forehead falls to the ground. Bumping heads as they both scramble to pick it up, both hiss in pain from the contact though Sam compiles himself first
"You've been working too hard, can't sleep?" the younger man says quietly.
This takes him aback before he responds quickly,
"I guess you could say so. No room mates tonight, you plan on heading back home at this hour?" scratching the back of his head, carefully putting the piece of paper back in his pocket.

"You don't mind?"

"Since when have I ever?" smile breaking onto his face, glad he wouldn't be alone tonight.

"I don't want a rude awakening from Jake or Andrew... I'll take the couch if it's ok with you-"

"No, it's not. Take my room, it's fine."

The latter didn't bother fighting back or trying to change his mind. He couldn't recall a time where Kurt's stubbornness didn't let him have his way. Nodding, he bid his friend goodnight with a grateful hug and shortly made himself comfortable.
It wasn't hard either, the sheets smelled nice and were still warm. Kurt didn't hate him after all and he was probably a creep for feeling like this, but once he drifted off it felt as though the sheets were embracing him to keep him safe. As if Kurt was protecting him from all the bad things in the world by letting him sleep in his bed.

~


Debating on whether or not his sanity had completely abandoned him at this point, he pushes the door open to his room when he's sure Sam is asleep.
His breath catches in his throat, the sight of his best friend curling into his pillows the prettiest thing he's seen in a long time.
What freaked him out though, was how his Dumbledore plushie was being squished to Sam's chest as if in an embrace.
He couldn't possibly be jealous of a stuffed wizard... could he? God, he must be pathetic at this point to have such ideas. Creeping as silently as he could to pull it away and not wake his friend up, he bites back a curse as he's pulled down onto the bed and into the younger man's arms.
Crap. He must have been having a wonderful dream, nuzzling into his chest like a child with a large teddy bear.
Heart racing, he forces himself to relax in the hold and weigh his options.
Wake up Sam and probably get yelled at OR stay put till the younger man relaxed his grip and enjoy the comfort of being in his arms without shame.
He dozes off dreaming about getting to hold this man in his arms every night for the rest of his life.

~

Sunlight hitting his eyes, Sam curls deeper into the source of warmth in his arms and breaths in that earthy scent that make him feel so secure and happy where he was.
Then reality dawns on him, he isn't in his bed and this was a warm body he was holding.
Looking up and seeing his older companion snoring above him, he can't seem to register quickly enough what had happened while he was alseep.
Eyes widening, he manages to detach himself from the other man's body but can't avoid being pulled back into the snug hold. This time spooned into Kurt's body, face to chest. He can hear him murmuring, sleep glazed voice insinuating that he wasn't quite awake just yet.
"Mhm, don't go. Please don't let this end..."
Swallowing the lump that has formed in his throat, he gathers all his courage to pull himself upward. The gut feeling inside takes over all rational thoughts breezing through his mind.
It was time to wake Kurt up.
Thoughts of morning breath tossed aside, soft lips pressed against slightly chapped ones in a chaste kiss.
Pulling away within seconds, brown met green eyes that were now wide awake and staring at him in disbelief.
"Morning sunshine, sleep well?" a watery chuckle escaping his lips as the older man's face lit up like a child's eyes on Christmas morning.
"Yeah, but I think I woke up to something even better." pulling the younger man close once again.