It was fair to say that Joe Hart was having an unfortunate amount of problems with the matters of the heart.
It had all begun a few weeks ago, after regionals and the car crash and the aborted wedding between Rachel and Finn (which he still did not entirely understand), when he had started to take Quinn to remedial therapy.
He had done it because he was a good Christian, and because he had spare time, due to the fact that the subjects he took didn’t require huge amounts of study and homework. Also, there was the fact that Quinn was a friend and fellow Christian, so he would do anything he could to help.
It all went well for the first two weeks or so. Quinn was getting stronger and more confident, and he and here were becoming closer as friends. Although Joe could not help but realize and appreciate Quinn’s beauty, he pushed those feelings aside, only wanting to be a rock for his friend.
But it escalated. The feelings. The attraction. The desire.
Joe could not help himself. He felt awfully about it, because he just wanted to help Quinn out of the goodness of his own heart, with no ulterior motives whatsoever. But sometimes there are just things you can’t control.
If Joe was being completely honest with himself, throughout his life as a Christian man, his penis had failed him at every turn, corrupting his mind with impure thoughts and filling his body with lustful need.
Whenever his dick was being particularly insistent, Joe would tell himself that it was God’s will, or that everything happens for a reason. But then the reasonable part of his brain would step in and tell him that that was preposterous.
Two days ago, at the rehabilitation clinic, Joe was talking with Quinn and helping her stretch, consolidating the feeling in the lower half of her body. She was lying down and smiling and they were laughing and before he knew it, there was a… stirring, in his pants.
Quinn just chuckled softly in the adorable way Joe found she always did, and said it was fine, totally un-flummoxed and not bothered at all. Joe, on the other hand, was mortified.
Joe had had that type of stirring and growth and hardness down there before, but he always just chose not to take notice of it. But in the last few weeks he had been getting those feelings more and more, and he decided he needed some advice.
He though about asking Finn, but he was busy with Rachel and all the supposed re-scheduling of their wedding. He considered Blaine, but he had so much drama going on with Kurt, and as nice as he was, he figured Blaine was not looking to have a heart to heart with him.
Then it occurred to him, like a sign from God, like a chorus of angels from above.
Joe should ask Sam.
He would understand. Sam was a Christian just like him, and being attractive as he was, Joe was sure Sam would have had loads of experience with these sorts of… feelings.
Joe walked into the steamy, musky locker room just as Sam was finishing up his final set of bicep curls.
Sam lips pursed and blew out a short breath of air in effort. Joe couldn’t believe how big Sam’s lips were.
Sam looked up at Joe and smiled. “You want to lift?”
Joe looked down at Sam sitting on the bench and shook his head. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Quinn.”
“You dig her.” Sam’s lips curled into a grin. “Yeah, I can tell. Everyone can. I think she's into you, too.”
“Seriously?” Joe thought he wasn’t being particularly obvious with feelings. And he had never even once considered that Quinn might like him too. “How do you know?” Joe questioned.
Sam picked up his towel and wrapped it around his neck, using the end of it to dab at his forehead. Joe noticed how the white threads contrasted against the flush of Sam’s skin.
“I used to date her,” Sam offered, dropping his arms and clutching at each end of his towel.
“So, when you dated her, how did you handle your” Joe searched for an appropriate term, “…feelings?”
Sam, still grinning, looked up at Joe searchingly. “Here's the thing about me: I can be super helpful, but when you ask me stuff, you have to be real specific.”
Joe huffed and felt himself getting hot. “When I was with Quinn at her rehab, I was having… feelings.” Joe’s cheeks burned.
Sam smirked dirtily. “You mean like "in your pants" feelings?”
Joe was so embarrassed. “I've been home-schooled my whole life. It was a lot easier to resist temptation when there were no girls around.” Joe stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back and forth on his sandaled feet.
“Yeah, I gave up on that.” Sam chuckled and shrugged sheepishly. “I had sex last year.” Joe stared at Sam indignantly. “I mean, I was working in a strip club, so…” Sam said defensively.
Joe exploded. “But it's a sin. We're supposed to wait until we're married.”
Sam stayed calm and gestured to Joe. “And we're not supposed to get tattoos-- Leviticus. Look, when the Bible was written, things were easier. I mean, there was no Internet, chicks didn't wear short skirts or anything.” Joe still wasn’t looking at Sam. “I'm a good Christian, but there's just no way a dude's gonna be able to,” Sam looked down at his crotch “resist. I say, let's be a new kind of Christian, one that prays and does right by people but understands that some of those rules are kind of old school.” Joe noticed that Sam talks with his hands a lot.
Joe still couldn’t quite grapple the sentiment, and he couldn’t help but think that Sam was falling victim to his desires too easily. “The sex rule makes sense,” Joe counters, “it's about respecting your body, putting the spiritual over the physical so you can feel closer to God.”
Sam picked up his gear and stood up, facing Joe. “Okay,” Sam sighed, “all I know is Quinn's a great girl, but you're gonna have to decide if you want to get closer to God,” Sam patted Joe on the shoulder, “or get closer to her.”
Sam walked past Joe and left him standing there, somehow even more confused than before.
Joe whirled around and called out to Sam, “Hey! Wait up!”
Sam slowed and Joe jogged up to him. “So,” Joe said, flicking his dreads away from his front, “I have one more question.”
Sam looked ahead down the hall. “Fire away man.”
Joe breathes in deep and steadies himself, before firing. “Is there anyway to get rid of the “in your pants” feelings?”
“Well, you wank right?” Sam questioned.
Joe shook his head in confusion, “What’s wanking?”