( finn/sam verse ) family affair

[lormenari]

“I heard what you said to that boy.”

Sam looks up sharply, his breath catching in his throat at his father’s words. They’re at a gas station, and it’s just the two of them in the car. His mom and siblings are in the restroom. Sam swallows hard and tries to play it off.

“What do you mean?” he asks, holding Neytiri’s leash through the open door as she sniffs around by the tires. “To Finn? That was just—”

“I know what it was. I heard the conversation, Sam,” his dad interrupts. Sam tightens his grip on the leash, his heart pounding. He remembers what he said to Finn. He told him he missed him and couldn’t wait to see him again and to kiss him again. And he told him he loved him. If his dad really heard all that...

“What are you doing with Finn?” his dad asks.

“Nothing, we’re just friends,” Sam says quickly, but his voice shakes, and even he wouldn’t believe himself if the roles were reversed.

“Are you gay?”

Sam lets out a small choking sound at the question, ignoring Neytiri as she comes back and nudges his leg. “Dad...”

“Tell me,” his dad orders.

“I don’t... know,” Sam whispers.

“Don’t lie to me, Sam. Not anymore.”

“I—”

“You’ve been lying this whole time, sneaking behind my back,” his dad snaps. “How could you look your mother and I in the eye knowing what you were doing? How could you sit in church like that?”

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” Sam insists, then flinches when his dad turns around in the front seat and starts yelling.

“What you and Finn are doing is wrong! It’s sick. I didn’t raise you like this. You know better, you know exactly what you should and shouldn’t be doing, and you chose to go down this path knowing full well that it’s wrong.”

“Dad, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Sam says desperately. “It just happened. It’s not a bad thing—Finn is a good person, a-and he likes me, and we’re good for each other. I know it seems weird, but—”

“Stop it, Sam! Be quiet. You don’t know what you’re saying. How can you sit there and defend what you’re doing? It’s wrong. You know it’s wrong. There’s no question.”

Sam bites his lip, his eyes filmy as he looks down. Neytiri climbs back into the car, jumping onto the seat and nuzzling against him, whining softly.

“I want you to get rid of that dog. Finn gave it to you, right? You shouldn’t keep it.”

“Dad, no!” Sam protests. “So what if he gave her to me? It was a birthday present.”

“I don’t want you accepting gifts from him. I don’t want you seeing him. And I don’t want that dog in the house, either. It’s a constant reminder of what you two have done.”

“I’m not getting rid of Neytiri,” Sam says. “She’s my pet. And I’m not going to stop seeing Finn either. He’s my friend—he’s pretty much the only person who’s been nice to me since we moved here. I’m not giving that up.”

“Then I don’t want either of you in my house,” his dad states. Sam falls silent, his stomach twisting into painful knots. For a moment the only sound in the car is Neytiri’s quiet noises.

“Dad,” Sam whispers.

“Don’t. You’ve made your choice and now you have to live with it.”

“Dad—”

“Quiet,” his dad hisses. “You’re not my son. I hardly recognize you. Now be quiet. I don’t want to hear another word from you until we’re home.”

“You can’t kick me out,” Sam says in a strained voice.

“I said be quiet!” his dad shouts. Neytiri barks in agitation, and Sam starts at the sudden noise. He pulls on her leash and steps outside, his dad calling after him.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Sam mutters, slamming the door. Neytiri scampers ahead of him as he circles to the back and yanks open the rusty bathroom door. He slips the leash onto the door handle so Neytiri can’t reach the toilet, then goes to the sink and turns on the water. His eyes are red as he stares into the dirty mirror, his breath shaky as his stomach roils.

He can’t get kicked out. He’s already practically homeless. He can’t believe he didn’t notice his dad listening to his phone conversation. He never should have told Finn he loved him like that—he should have waited until they were home and he could talk to him in person. Sam grips the grimy edges of the sink and retches loudly as the doughnut he ate earlier comes back up. It’s probably for the best—it’s not like he needs to be eating so much crap. His diet has been shot for months and he hardly has time for the gym anymore.

Sam leans down and catches his breath, then cups his hands under the tap and splashes his face. He considers calling Finn right now, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. Hey, my dad knows we’re dating and he’s kicking me out, can I come live with you? No way. Finn’s already done so much for him. He doesn’t want to worry him even more.

He won’t tell anyone. He’ll find some way to fix this so he won’t have to.

The paper towel dispenser is empty, so Sam wipes his face on his sleeve and picks up Neytiri’s leash again, wrapping it tightly around his hand to conceal his shaking. He goes back to the car, sliding into his seat without a word. Stevie and Stacey are back, grabbing at Neytiri, and Sam lets them play with her while he stares through the window and tries to push down the shudders he gets whenever he feels his dad’s eyes on him through the rearview mirror.

Sam’s throat is dry when they pull up in front of their motel hours later. Stevie and Stacey are both asleep, Stacey half on top of him. Sam lets Neytiri out, then gathers Stacey in his arms and brings her to the door, only to be stopped by his dad.

“Wait out here,” his dad orders, taking Stacey from him. Sam wants to scream at him, but he stays quiet, hanging back. His mom has already disappeared inside with Stevie, and when his dad comes back out, he has Sam’s guitar in tow.

“Dad, just listen to me,” Sam pleads softly. “I’m still your son. I’m still Sam.”

“My son is not gay.” His dad speaks with finality in his voice, and he holds the guitar out. Sam takes it automatically, his eyes welling up.

“Where am I even supposed to go?”

“Since you’re in love with Finn, go to him and see if the choices you’ve made are actually worth it. If you want to mess up your life, that’s your choice. But you won’t behave this way under my roof.”

“This isn’t even your roof!” Sam says between clenched teeth. “I help pay for this room—me, your disgusting son!”

His dad’s eyes spark with anger, and Sam knows he’s probably gone too far. He tries again as his dad makes a move to close the door, slapping his hand against the chipped paint.

“Dad, please don’t do this,” Sam begs, his voice shaking as real fear starts to set in. “Please.”

“Don’t come back until you’re ready to change.” His dad shuts the door swiftly, and Sam bangs his fist on the dirty wood, feeling nauseous all over again.

“Dad. Dad!” Sam ignores the wetness on his cheeks and the way his words are muffled by the tightness clogging his throat. “Mom!”

He knows he’s woken Stacey when he hears her begin to cry, and Sam stops, breathing hard as he backs away from the door. He only now realizes Neytiri has been barking the entire time, and he kneels down and quiets her, tears dripping from his face as he fights to compose himself. The last thing he needs is a motel worker coming out to investigate. He’s not even supposed to have pets here.

Sam sits on the concrete and takes a few deep breaths. He keeps expecting his parents to open the door and tell him they love him just the way he is, but the only thing he gets for waiting are stiff muscles and a headache from staring at the door so hard.

He listens to the crickets chirp and watches Neytiri chase bugs. The door stays shut, and after a while the lights in the window go out. Sam peers into the darkness and bites his lip hard, waiting, hoping the door will just open and he won’t be completely alone and discarded and utterly unwanted.

He loses track of how long he sits there. It isn’t until Neytiri starts nudging him that he gets up, painfully trying to accept that he’s on his own and he needs to find someplace to stay. He doesn’t have anywhere to go, except for Finn’s house. And that’s a long walk.

Sam goes to the car and pulls out his bag. At least he has all his stuff already packed. He considers sleeping in the car, but the longer he stands there, the more unwelcome he feels. He has a little money on him, but not enough to afford a place to stay. He can find a payphone and call Finn, but it’s late and he’s sure Finn’s asleep. Besides, he doesn’t want to tell him. He doesn’t want to tell anyone that he just got kicked out. He feels guilty for keeping things from Finn, but he at least needs to try and fix this himself before he dumps all his problems on Finn again.

He’ll go to Finn’s house, but he’ll make up some other reason to be there. He slings his bag over his shoulder, hefts his guitar in one hand and grasps Neytiri’s leash in the other, and starts walking through the darkness, following the road. He has plenty of time to think something up.








He doesn’t have a watch or a phone, so he has no idea what time it is when he reaches Finn’s front porch. Neytiri had gotten tired and cranky partway through, so Sam had unzipped his bag and let her perch herself on it, on top of his clothes. His shoulder aches from the weight, and his fingers are cramped around the handle of his guitar case.

He silently climbs the brick steps, walking slowly across the porch. The windows are all dark. He doesn’t want to wake Finn’s parents up, and he definitely doesn’t want Finn or Kurt to see him like this. Sam tries to peek through the small windows near the door, but he can’t see through the lace curtains in the darkness. He almost presses the doorbell, but he pulls back at the last minute, his fingers shaking, and he turns and walks a few feet away, keeping close to the house and hoping no one hears the porch creaking at his steps.

He slides down and rests his back against the brick wall, carefully putting his bag down so Neytiri doesn’t wake up and start barking. She snuffles and absently pushes his clothes around with one foot to make herself more comfortable. Sam sets his guitar down and exhales softly, blinking tiredly. After a second he draws his legs up and rests his arms against the top of his knees, putting his head down. He tries to relax, but there’s an aching ball of tension nestled deep inside him, and he lets his hoodie soak up his tears as he asks himself what he’s supposed to do now.

Comments

{interlude - aka more word vomit from sam's head}

[lormenari.livejournal.com]

He doesn't know what's wrong with him. He tries to be a nice person, he tries to treat everyone the way he wants to be treated, but somehow no one ever does the same for him. Except for Finn. But Finn deserves to have a boyfriend who can do awesome things for him and take him to cool places and buy him great presents for his birthday, and Sam can't do any of that. He has nothing to give Finn. And he's apparently not even that appealing at all or else he probably wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. His parents would actually want him.

He doesn't get it. There's something wrong with him, he knows that much, but he doesn't know what. He doesn't know how to fix this. He doesn't know how to be a good son or a good boyfriend, and he just really wants to tell Finn everything because he knows Finn will be nice about it, but he's so ashamed, and Finn already does so much for him. He'll just suck it up for now and go on like everything's okay, like thinking about this doesn't make his chest ache with fear and grief. He's okay. He's always okay. He has to be.