The Breath Before the Kiss.
( t w o )
The music is loud, and the amount of people is overwhelming at first.
(Kurt instantly worries that they’re selling slushies as refreshments.)
Nobody, thankfully, calls them out. There’s no horrid f word thrown at them or any offensive gestures, no glares or “accidental” pushes. Everybody is having the time of their life, and the couple relaxes as they realize that they can do the same.
Majority of it is upbeat, poppy songs, which they happily dance to in the group of the glee kids that went. But when it gets to a slow song, Sam’s heart races—he has two left feet, but has been practicing really hard with his mom so he can try to impress Kurt. His heart remains at a fast pace, but drops to his stomach, when Kurt looks hesitant to get close to Sam. He doesn’t get it until he notices the brunette looking around at all the (straight) couples uneasily.
Sam slides his arms under Kurt’s, his hands resting comfortably on the boy’s smaller waist, who takes a moment to drape his arms around the back of Sam’s neck. They sway and step together slowly, quietly.
The blonde isn’t happy with Kurt’s blatant also-unhappy expression. “Hey,” he murmurs, loud enough so that just Kurt can hear him. Those bright eyes he loses himself in direct their gaze at him, and he stumbles over his words. “Don’t look so happy to be with me,” he jokes.
Kurt lets a hint of a smile appear. “I just…I don’t want things to be harder for you.” His voice is so soft, it almost doesn’t sound like Kurt.
“Fuck them,” Sam says almost instantly. “I’ll flaunt you however I want, whenever I want, wherever I want,” he grins, which is contagious, as Kurt does so as well.
Kurt cranes his neck to peck Sam’s lips, before moving closer to rest his head on the blonde’s shoulder. Their chests are pressed against one another, and Sam smiles as he feels the muscles in Kurt’s shoulders relax and his heart continue to race.
(Kurt instantly worries that they’re selling slushies as refreshments.)
Nobody, thankfully, calls them out. There’s no horrid f word thrown at them or any offensive gestures, no glares or “accidental” pushes. Everybody is having the time of their life, and the couple relaxes as they realize that they can do the same.
Majority of it is upbeat, poppy songs, which they happily dance to in the group of the glee kids that went. But when it gets to a slow song, Sam’s heart races—he has two left feet, but has been practicing really hard with his mom so he can try to impress Kurt. His heart remains at a fast pace, but drops to his stomach, when Kurt looks hesitant to get close to Sam. He doesn’t get it until he notices the brunette looking around at all the (straight) couples uneasily.
Sam slides his arms under Kurt’s, his hands resting comfortably on the boy’s smaller waist, who takes a moment to drape his arms around the back of Sam’s neck. They sway and step together slowly, quietly.
The blonde isn’t happy with Kurt’s blatant also-unhappy expression. “Hey,” he murmurs, loud enough so that just Kurt can hear him. Those bright eyes he loses himself in direct their gaze at him, and he stumbles over his words. “Don’t look so happy to be with me,” he jokes.
Kurt lets a hint of a smile appear. “I just…I don’t want things to be harder for you.” His voice is so soft, it almost doesn’t sound like Kurt.
“Fuck them,” Sam says almost instantly. “I’ll flaunt you however I want, whenever I want, wherever I want,” he grins, which is contagious, as Kurt does so as well.
Kurt cranes his neck to peck Sam’s lips, before moving closer to rest his head on the blonde’s shoulder. Their chests are pressed against one another, and Sam smiles as he feels the muscles in Kurt’s shoulders relax and his heart continue to race.