Color Me Mine

[cause I'll color you yours any day! <3]

Sam strolled into 'Color Me Mine' with pure giddiness and an extra bounce in every step. With so much going on right now (Quinn, Santana, Kurt, Blaine...) the make-your-own-whatever place was his idea of the perfect get away. He had offered to take Quinn here for their annual Friday night dates but she was always hesitant and considered that he was just fooling around. What kind of teenage guy got amusement out of decorative objects and then painting/designing them. Little did she know, he was more then serious- it was one of Sam's most favorite past times.

He checked in at the front desk and an employee there immediately got him set up with a few coasters to design. Lathering his hands before he began, an explosion of ideas happened within his mind. Aw, he really was at peace at the moment.

There were few people that knew of Mike's particular dorkiness. Tina, being one, when he used to go here with her (despite how much she denied it, he was more than sure she liked it), Santana being two, who... Didn't like the idea at all, and refused to go with him. Brittany was three, who actually came with him the most often, simply to create unicorns or sometimes phallic references, or even to have a clay fight (which hurt a lot more than he would let on), the manager still gave him dirty looks because of that. But every once in a while he walked in happily, using this pottery painting place as an escape from the tedious drama of reality. So here he was, wearing a worn-out flannel with splashes of paint coating it's every inch, when a familiar boy arrived and seated himself behind him. Naturally, he turned around.

"Sam?" He asked lamely, turning in his seat. His unicorn horn untouched as of now (he would declare that he was fooling around, if anything. "You like making pottery too?" He inquired, a grin tugging joyously at his lips.

Sam nearly dropped the clay pot he was painting with the most vibrant colors that the studio had to offer. It kind of resembled a gay pride flag...how ironic, it was most definitely not his intentions. But it wasn't the coincidental design that startled him, it was that Mike Chang had just entered and was painting a unicorns horn. He seemed just as shocked to see Sam there like Sam was shocked to see him.

He turned his head swiftly left to right as if there was a potential chance for Puckerman, Karofsky or someone to have spotted him. Sam lowered his head and stared down at his pot, his face, bashfully burning a redder shade. "Yes," he whispered, his head continuing to sag down. "I like pottery." With a flash it shot up so he could look Mike straight in the eye. "Please don't tell the guys!" he pleaded. The clues to Sam's dirty little secrets have been increasing and he was practically embracing his sexuality when all he desired to do was to keep it hidden.

He lowered his head momentarily, an attempt to glance down as the boy visibly sunk in front of him. When he flicked his neck back upwards, their heads nearly crashed together, but Mike (using his obvious Asian ninja skills) reeled back and raised a brow. "Chill out dude," he mumbled, putting his hands up defensively. "I won't tell anyone." For a second he debated on whether or not he should add a, 'if you don't,' at the end, but quickly decided against it. Surprisingly, he assumed he could push through if one were to discover his love for coloring pottery, unlike the blonde near him. He would've wondered why if not for his short attention span.

"Do you come here often?" He asked, tilting his head curiously to the side. It sounded like an awkward pick-up line, so he furrowed his brows and clarified. "I- I mean like, I haven't seen you around here before."

Sam couldn’t help but to draw a sigh of relief when Mike claimed that he wouldn’t tell anybody that Sam invested his leisure time into painting jewelry boxes and Hummel figurines. “Thanks, bro,” he told him, nodding his head and trying to obtain the masculine in his voice as if to make up for the fact he was painting a pot with the gay pride colors.
He cocked his head to the right in utter confusion when Mike asked if he came here often, but then realized that he was just curious on how frequent he spent his time here. “I come here all the time,” he admitted, dabbing his paint brush into some more vibrant purple. Purple was the Biebs’ favorite color, he noticed while grinning at himself. “Well as much as I can anyways, when I can get away from…school, glee, foot ball and girls.” He continued to smother brush strokes on his pot, feeling satisfied with his work. “Or whenever my mom bans me from watching Justin Bieber or Avatar for a week…” Sam snickered at what was intentionally joke but it was actually the truth. It was official: Sammy Evans was the biggest dork around.

Mike noticed the rainbow flourish of colors on Sam's pot, but neglected to mention them, instead smiling contently at him. He had a friend who liked this sort of stuff now. Someone who seriously liked it. He was allowed to be a little happy. At the blonde's admittance to frequenting this shop quite often, he nodded, wondering briefly how he hadn't seen him around before. Even with all the girl problems, football problems, school problems, or whatever, he probably saw him once or twice, but never recognized the familiar Bieber-cut as him. He admired the look of concentration on his face, even as he painted a vivid purple and spoke. At what he figured was a joke, he laughed lightly, almost nervously, due to the fact that Avatar was kind of his favorite movie. He liked to believe that his masculinity kept him from watching the Justin Bieber movie, but in actuality, it was because all of his friends ended up loving the kid after seeing it.

He furrowed his brows curiously and leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder to turn him around a bit. Soon enough, he leaned closer and brushed a thumb down his cheek, clearing a spot of purple paint. It had probably flicked off his paintbrush earlier. "Nga-" He paused abruptly, trying hard to recover from his slight use of Na'vi. "You had some paint there." He mumbled, showing the spot on his thumb with minimal embarrassment.

Sam held his breath, completely caught off guard as Mike had suddenly leaned in to wipe off a smudge of purple paint on his cheek. But what really had startled to death was that he had sworn that he had heard his mumble something in Na'vi. When he had translated, Sam just shook his head while still beaming at him. "You don't need to translate," he informed him. "I'm fluent in Na'vi." Sam couldn't help but to mention the last bit with a hint of pride despite numerous people claiming it to be the dorkiest talent on the face of this earth. But what if Mike hadn't spoken in Na'vi and he was totally getting ahead of himself while scaring the dude off? "Not saying that you were necessarily speaking Na'vi...I mean maybe you were speaking Asianeese or whatever you guys speak down or up there in Asia...I don't know I'm not really good a geometry." He noticed he was definitely flubbing his words. "I mean geology! I think..."

At the simple notion of not needing to translate, he swallowed. Sure Sam was a cool guy for being into pottery and painting and whatevs, but speaking a false language for a fictional movie was a totally different story. He believed an unbelievable tale almost immediately, thinking that the blonde in front of him had learned the language simply to taunt others. He had forgotten completely that he mentioned his very adoration for the movie not two minutes ago. Mike exhaled happily (and totally had a nerdgasm) when Sam mentioned he was fluent. He mocked the boy's own beaming with a toothy grin of it's own multitude. He would have spoken an excited response, but was cut off by the mention of A-Asianeese? ... He was born in New Jersey, with family from China. But Asia was close, so. He was unwilling to ruin this possible friendship, so he salvaged it the best he could.

"I think it's geometry," he declared absentmindedly. That sounded right, at least. Or was it geography? "But dude," he looked side to side and leaned in closer, nearing a distance Santana would soon reach. And would be totally jealous of. "I totally speak Na'vi. So if your mom decides to be a jerk, you can come over and we can have a movie marathon."