Sammy's Problem (future!klaine fic)

Sammy's Confession

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee or any of its characters, unfortunately. However, Samantha is entirely mine.

Samantha was not looking forward to going home.

Usually, she'd be bouncing off the walls once class let out, knowing her dads had an entire evening planned out full of dinner, hot chocolate and binge watching America's Next Top Model or any of the Disney classics. But today... she had to confess something, and confessions were never her strong suit.

Truth be told, the fearless, confident, outgoing Samantha Elizabeth Hummel-Anderson, was scared. To the point where it took her a full ten minutes to gather the courage to actually reach for her front door and open it.

Blaine sat on the couch in their living room with a mug of tea and a half-written song in his lap when his daughter shuffled into the room.

"Oh hey, Sammy!"

Dang it. Samantha looked up at her father. She'd tried her best to sneak by him unnoticed.

"I was just about to call you—you're never late. Did something happen, sweetheart?" Blaine set aside his sheet music and patted the seat beside him.

Samantha could only shake her head and mumble something incoherent before making a dash for her room.

Huh, Blaine stretched out on the couch, reaching for his discarded sheet music, Must be on her period or something...

Meanwhile, Samantha sank to the ground with her back against her bedroom door, mentally cursing herself for wimping out.

This isn't that big of a deal. You can do this. He'll get it.

She rubbed her hands over her face and threw aside her book bag.

Before she knew it, her anxiety started taking over and her body began to shake.

No no no. This is not happening. Get it together, woman!

Samantha decided she should try and slap some sense back into herself but that only resulted in some very red cheeks and a new wave of unshed tears.

There was a knock on the door.

"Hey, Sammy, Papa will be home in about twenty minutes. Want to help me get dinner ready? I could use some of my favorite assistant's expertise..."

She could already picture Blaine's teasing smile from behind her bedroom door, but she kept it shut.

"Uh... No thanks, Dad. I think I'm gonna start on some homework instead," Samantha bit her lip from the lie. She highly doubted her father would fall for that.

My Sammy? My 14-year-old daughter is choosing homework over quality time with me? Who is this kid and what has she done to my babygirl?

Blaine decided to let this one slide, "Alright, honey, I'll be in the kitchen if you need me,"

Samantha cringed at the hurt in his voice, knowing how sensitive her father got sometimes. She took his retreating footsteps as the go-ahead to launch herself on her bed and stuff her face in a pillow to scream.

What the hell am I gonna do? I don't know how these conversations work!

Kurt ran a tired hand through his hair as he walked into his house.

"I'm home!" he called out, searching for any sign of his husband or his not-so-little girl.

"In the kitchen!" came a response, causing Kurt to smirk and toss his bag onto the couch, following his lover's voice.

"Well someone looks incredibly hot and disheveled,"

Blaine couldn't help but stare in awe at his husband, whose hair was a mess and whose shirt was half unbuttoned and whose tie was loose, leaving his neck exposed.