Archive of Our Own

One. 

Crap. That was Sam’s first thought. It was in no means a diss, and definitely not meant to be a review of the performance itself but the first time Sam Evans heard Blaine Anderson sing, his thoughts were a lot of expletive unmentionables. 

Finn was on his back. Every which way he turned, Finn was there and ready to take what Sam slacked on. He was quarterback of the football team, leader of the glee club, already the go-to guy in charge and all he had to do was frown Sam’s way and the blonde was right back to social square one. Sure, Quinn was his girlfriend, but even that sometimes felt like a bullseye guessing game. Like all he'd ever be was desperately searching for her attention, Finn's approval, or hell, maybe even home.

All of that combined into the perfect storm, with sectionals kind of resting on his back. Well, theirs, technically. But it’s not like Quinn would ever miss a step.

And the Warblers didn’t either. Sam knew the song from the radio but that seemed like some shady backyard cover compared to the performance on stage. The Warblers weren’t just on beat, they were ON. Especially Kurt. And well, especially their lead singer. Sam had his doubts about their competition if Kurt wasn’t leading the charge but whoever that was, had it handled. More than just being talented, he was a true performer. Exciting to watch, mesmerizing to listen to, and with the kind of passion that included the audience. Made you root for them, if it meant that electricity might hold up.

Crap. That was probably Sam Evan’s first direct thought about Blaine Anderson. 

Talented, was Blaine’s. Followed closely by flashy. Not necessarily in a bad way, but Blaine had just never considered using something other than the stage. Call him a traditionalist. But, fairs fair, the song suited the two blondes well. They were good. Furthermore, their voices blended nicely. And Blaine couldn’t help but notice the tension was palpable. They made a cute couple. 

Knowing this was Kurt’s old school, Blaine had already expected showstopping talent, but he was really and genuinely impressed. The blonde couple held such a stage presence and were so clearly well suited for each other that even Blaine was cheering them on. The other girl’s rendition of Amy Winehouse was just icing on the victory cake and Blaine could barely hear his own clapping over the roar of the crowd. 

In the end, Blaine’s not even upset they didn’t technically come in first. “Valerie” and “I’ve Had the Time of My Life” were showstoppers, Blaine is honored just to be continuing on, and he barely even notices when the duet from McKinley kisses. Maybe there’s a flash of “I knew it” but he’s already grabbing the trophy and returning with it back to the Warblers by the time he finishes.

Two. 

Red Solo Cup was fun. It was a cheery song and all of the New Directions, and even some of the Treble Tones genuinely seemed to be more than ecstatic that this ‘Sam Evans’ was back. Blaine remembers Kurt mentioning him briefly and if he really thinks on it, he swears the face is familiar but they’ve never held a conversation before. 

He doesn’t even have one now. Not really, Sam is reuniting with Finn, Santana, Quinn, Mercedes… everybody seems to love him but there isn’t much one on one time, and Blaine doesn’t really mind. They need to focus if they’re going to win Regionals anyway. 

~

“It means I’m not for sale.” Blaine’s not even sure why he said it. If it were anybody else but him he probably would’ve tried to hit him too but there’s a lot pent up from an absolutely shitty week with Finn & Friends and some new kid Blaine’s never seen before isn’t going to tell him how to do his job. He also just happens to be the straw that broke the dancers back, or whatever. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong Blaine. 

It’ll end up being one of those things that plagues his thoughts frequently. One he regrets the most, and one of those things they can’t quite bring up. He’s apologized before, and it’s clear Sam doesn’t want to talk about it anymore but it haunts a lot of Blaine’s thoughts for months to come. Blaine always thought Sam was more than that, but as they begin to work together he knows it with a sickening certainty that makes his comment all the worse.

Sam’s already forgiven him by the time Sectionals hits. They kill it. Sam was right in some regards, and Blaine was too. The blend together is actually probably their saving grace this competition and before Blaine knows it, they’re hugging on stage in celebration. Friends, even, maybe. Friendly at the very least. Who knew they’d make a good team. 

Three. 

In the end, Sam really is the superhero. He’s carried Blaine out of a million and one holes with his endless optimism and general goodheartedness, and Blaine will be forever grateful they met, let alone became friends. Blaine’s break up wouldn’t have been bearable--- he’d have been wallowing in a stack of top 40’s pop at Dalton by now if not for Sam, and lord knows the Glee club would’ve disbanded, maybe even as early as last year. Blaine can’t even really list all the things Sam does for the greater good that carry the club. 

It’s reasonable to have a crush, right? Sam Evans, as most, if not all of the Glee club can attest to, is very crushable. I mean, just looking at the current line up, he and Brittany are going strong, Tina’s admitted her attraction, Mercedes, Quinn, and Blaine, well… he couldn’t be afforded that luxury. They have a good thing going. One of the best, in fact, Blaine’s never had a friend quite like Sam. Hell, he doesn’t think there is anyone out there quite like Sam Evans, but he’s honored at the least to be his friend. They spend next to every waking moment either together, on the phone or waiting till their next outing. All the stuff Blaine had forgotten he’d loved: comic book stores, old movies, talking about all the big things and every single little thing that came with knowing you were accepted entirely as is. 

It’s just… 

Guilty Pleasures week is rough. For a couple of reasons, Ryder and Jake actually get into it and Marley and Kitty hardly seem any better, and Blaine is in too deep now to stop. He’s not really sure what he expects to come out of his big solo song. Maybe in his fantasies Sam realizes what Blaine did a long time ago, and maybe in his nightmares he loses Sam forever. Whatever it is, in some ways he’s happy he got the middle ground. They’ll always be friends. Friends. 

Sam’s senior year is a little different. He misses Mercedes and the other graduates like hell, and he especially misses his parents but he’s determined not to let that get him down. It gets a bit rough there in the middle when he’s told in no uncertain terms he’s the dumbest boy in school, and he’s reminded of how his body’s the only thing that could even possibly make him special. That the best he’ll ever be is a really dim-witted, underachieving extra. A pretty face at most, and even that was probably debatable. 

It’s Blaine in the end that saves him. That video he made stops him from ruining his life and throwing away all of his friendships in some childish fit of embarrassment and insecurity. He may not be the smartest. Hell, he may not even have a future beyond high school, but as long as he’s got Blaine somehow he feels like he’ll be alright. 

Blaine invites him to New York after graduation and Sam can’t think of a single reason to say no. Or a place he wouldn’t follow him. After all, they make a good pair. 

Four. 

The break up is rough. For both of them. Sam knows that Blaine and Kurt were as close to marriage as anybody with a ring could be, but Sam and Mercedes’ break up hurts all the same. Maybe they weren’t ready to walk down the aisle but Sam really and truly loved her. And in some weird way he knew she loved him too. They just… didn’t fit. 

And well, closing a door, opening a window and all that. Sam and Blaine live really well together. Like really well. They’re excited to come home and tell each other about their day, and they’re just as good at listening as they are suggesting. Blaine’s the one who inspires him to start working with non-profits. Sam’s the one who gets Blaine to give his original songs a try--- and they’re both right. 

It isn’t until Blaine meets Harry that they start to have issues. Objectively, Harry is alright. He doesn’t trash the house when he’s over, or steal their stuff or some other dramedy boyfriend tropes. He’s nice to Sam and even respects the nights where Sam has to wake up early and needs the living room quiet early. Objectively, Harry is alright. 

And yet… Sam doesn’t know what makes Harry so irritable. Maybe it’s that he likes the Yankees when the Dodgers are so obviously superior, or maybe it’s that he uses too much of Sam’s coffee creamer and then leaves his mug out in the morning. Maybe it’s that he stays till the morning at all. Maybe it’s the light blush Sam can see on Blaine’s cheeks sometimes when they think they’re alone. Maybe it’s the Blaine of it all he has a problem with. 

They’re allowed to have people over, they agreed upon that a long time ago. So WHAT is it about Harry that drives Sam so crazy? 

“You don’t mind if Harry joins us, right?” 

They’re in the kitchen on a Thursday morning when the question is asked. And really, Sam shouldn’t. It’s a movie so it’s not like they can even do very much between the two of them anyway but Harry ‘joining’ them means they can’t do their usual disgusting popcorn & M&Ms thing. They can’t whisper and laugh about the acting in a movie they’ll both objectively like, and when they’re leaving Sam and Blaine can’t do that thing where their shoulders consistently bump against each other with every step as they excitedly discuss every minor detail of the film because Blaine will be holding stupid Harry’s stupid hand. 

It’s early in the morning and before Sam’s had his pre-workout smoothie so he’s going to blame it on that when he can’t hide the annoyance on his face when he asks “Harry’s coming?” 

And maybe even if he HAD tried to hide his distaste, Blaine could read him so well it wouldn’t have mattered. Sam could already see that little dip between his eyebrows forming where displeasure welled and he felt bad about what he’d said, or rather, implied. That quick guilt was instantly overshadowed by the knowledge that objectively, Harry was the fucking worst.

Blaine sighed, leaned back on the countertop and crossed his arms. His 'let's talk this out' stance. 

Crap, so they were gonna do this then.

“Why don’t you like him?” Blaine asks, both affronted and concerned. 

Sam, however, didn't plan on fighting his way through the morning. He sighed. “I like him fine.” 

“No you don’t.” Blaine’s got that disappointed, worried eyes about him and god, Sam wants to drop this. He’s spent enough brainpower & words on Harry to last a lifetime. “And you’re a horrible liar.”

Sam, under the impression that lying to the furniture than his best friend’s face was an easier route, told the cabinet with the mugs in it: “It’s not a lie! Harry’s…" annoying, loud, doesn't get his references. "--Whatever!” 

Blaine rolls his eyes, words dripping with sarcasm as he says: “A ringing endorsement”

Now it's Sam's own turn to roll his eyes. Blaine gets sarcastic when he gets annoyed and while they may not fight often, Sam knows this is it. Or at least what it’s going to be. And Sam’s going to be late to work and he’s surely not going to take THAT because of Harry fucking whatshisname. Sam adds another “whatever” just for clearance, grabs an apple from the basket and starts to gather up his stuff to show he’s leaving soon. It gives them both a chance to dismiss the fight. 

A chance Blaine doesn’t take. He moves with Sam, following slightly behind his steps.

“Sam, c’mon” Blaine sighs. “You get along with everyone---- why not him?” 

Sam scoffed, using the time to think of an answer that wouldn’t come. All he could think of to object in the time it takes him to turn around was “Not…” Sam made the critical mistake of facing Blaine in his hunt for his jacket. Their eyes meet in a flash of intensity, and they’re weirdly closer than he had planned. Intimate. The last word comes out soft and wrong. An obvious non-answer. “-- everyone.”

Blaine’s gaze was piercing and unflinching. “Name one other person we know.”

Sam never did have the quickest wit. And this all started because Harry was ruining THEIR perfectly fine night out together so why in the hell was Sam playing twenty hostile questions? “Why do you care? I’m not dating him.” His eyes search desperately in Blaine’s green for an answer they both share. An answer he shouldn’t have to ask for. 

“Are you seriously asking why I care about your opinion?” 

Ugh. He hates when Blaine gets like this! Sam doesn’t know, okay? He doesn’t know what he’s thinking and he hates that Blaine cuts through his poor attempts to subvert the issue. If he had more time he’d be able to think rationally, maybe even articulately say that while he does not understand his own reasoning right now, he will think about it and they can have a mature discussion about it later, after work. That’s what he should say.

 What he ends up saying is:

“Whatever, dude.” And there’s something ugly and gratifying about anger as he leaves. 

For a minute. After that, when Sam’s en route to work with just a little bit too much time to think, he’ll regret it all. Blaine looked so hurt. Hurt and confused and when the tension finally broke all he was left with was regret. Blaine ends up spending that night at Harry’s. Sam knows because he texts him this after work and that little seed of annoyance that’s planted in his chest starts to twist and infest his ribs. He’s spoiled for Blaine’s time and he knows it, but days just don’t mean as much without him. 

Five. 

As their fights always go, it’s over before it really even started. Sam apologizes for being an ass and Blaine doesn’t bring Harry around as often. Makes Blaine’s appearance in Sam’s life a lot more sparse, and he’s saying as much to Tina the one night they both magically have free for Bachelor Monday’s. 

“---And he doesn’t even know who professor X is.” They’re nearing the end of the episode, as well as the end of the wine bottle and the phone squished in the corner of his shoulder and ear is slipping as he speaks. 

Tina laughs. “Sam. I don’t know who professor X is.” 

“Yeah but you’re Tina! We love you Tina, Harry is… bleh.” Truly there was no better adjective to describe Blaine’s boring boyfriend than a boring, slightly drunken word. 

Tina giggles. The kind of giggle that means she’s the right side of tipsy and Sam feels a deep punch to the chest from nostalgia of late nights with him, Blaine and Tina in high school. The bright light of possibility. “Sam.” she says. Trying for serious even though he can hear her smile through the phone. “Can we just say what this is actually about?”

Sam grabs a chip and eats it noisily. “Harry using up all the hot water in the morning?” God, and sometimes he would even SING and Sam could attest Harry was tone-deaf. How Blaine could stand a guy who sang Young the Giant like he was a person of interest in their murder, Sam didn’t know. 

Tina’s eye roll could be heard across the country, her words, however, were more of a murmur. “Geez, at least I had the balls to call it a crush.” 

“What was that?” 

Tina didn’t answer that. Instead she said: “Sam, what were your first thoughts about Finn?” 

Sam may not be the brightest but was he so crazy to think that was a bit off topic? Sophomore year sounds like a lifetime ago, back when he was worried about fitting in rather than being his own person. It was almost too hard to recall. “Ummm tall? I guess? Quarterback? Sang that New York song in the courtyard that I thought was kind of--.” 

“No, my god Sam, I mean—-, like, after you joined glee club. What did you think of Finn as a person?” 

Tina couldn’t see his expression but he gave that a contemplative look anyway. A twinge of shame because he loves Finn now, heart, soul and song. “Uhh, honestly? Nothing good. I was kind of in love with Quinn at the time, so…” 

“Uh huh, and what about Shane?” 

“Mercedes’ ex? Kind of the same. Nice dude but the way he was all over Mercedes drove me a little nuts.” 

Tina’s silence left an awkward lull in the conversation. Tina wasn’t one for silences, and he was almost afraid they’d lost connection when she prompted, as if speaking to a particularly dimwitted third grader: “---And Harry?” 

Sam laughed. OH. Oh, Tina. “That’s different.” 

“Is it? I love you Sam, and you’re a great guy but three’s a pattern my friend. Frankly I could have told you this years ago.” 

Sam shook his head, leaning into the conversation bodily. “Blaine’s my best friend! It’s different, Quinn and Mercedes were different—”

“Because they’re women?”

“No! You know it’s not that, it’s because—- because he’s… and I…” This is the part where he says he doesn’t like Blaine like that. He doesn’t feel that way about him, he doesn’t love him like he wants a life with him. This is his cue, and he’s watching it pass like the end credits to a cringey lifetime movie. 

He can't. At the end of the day, it’s Blaine. Has been for sometime now. Blaine who’s hand his fingers itch to hold when they’re within each other’s orbits and Blaine’s day he cares about hearing any time it’s offered. It’s Blaine. And if Tina’s words could ever ring more truth, it probably has been for sometime now. 

What he ends up doing instead is running a hand over his eyes and dropping his head into his hand. Saying: “Shiiiit.” 

“Yeah.” Tina agrees. “If it makes you feel any better, been there.” 

Sam laughed. A bubbling sensation that made him feel a bit delirious from all the anxiety in his stomach. A crush. A CRUSH! On Blaine, his best friend, roommate and everything in between. Blaine who was happy with another dude that maybe Sam was being a bit unfair to. Shit was a pretty good summary, all things considered. 

Sam sighs, dragging a hand across his face. “You know you don’t always have to be right, right?” 

Tina laughs, and he can hear her getting up on the other end as the show they neglected to watch ends. “First I’m hearing of it.” 

With this new perspective, it’s Sam who starts to pull away. Blaine’s back at their apartment nightly but it’s Sam who’s suddenly closing his door too early, or skipping out before either of them could get a ‘good morning’ in. A crush. Crap. 

It’s not even about the whole ‘sexuality’ of it all. Back when he and Britt were together they actually had some really enlightening and interesting conversations, attraction being one of them. It was a revelation he accepted easily, with Britt’s help, but didn’t really do much with, considering he was all but planning the wedding in his mind. But ever since that one ‘huh, maybe’ he’s slowly come to terms that yes, actually. He’s attracted to people, not limited to any specific gender. A couple of nights out in New York proved that, but nothing concrete enough to ever warrant an announcement to his friends, and he never felt like he had to ‘come out’ rather than just going with whatever his heart told him to. He realized pretty early on out of the rigidity of high school that it was never about the gender of a person, but rather how they made him feel. No, it’s not the attraction, that was confirmed early on in their story. 

His problem is the Blaine of it all. The too little too late. That maybe if Sam had been smarter and began to understand himself sooner, he would’ve had a different answer to guilty pleasures week. But he can’t put his issues on Blaine, not when he’s happy with someone else. It took forever to even begin to think about dating again after Kurt, and after everything Sam went through with the Quinn and Finn thing during Sophomore year, he’s not about to be a homewrecker. The problem is that now that he knows what it is, he’s GOT to stay away from Blaine. Like he said, he’s a horrible liar, and Sam overshares most if not all of his life with his best friend anyway. There’s no way it won’t come out. Blaine’s getting busier with work, regardless. Maybe he won’t even notice while Sam slowly spirals into a crush, by any other name. 

~~

Maybe it was stupid of Blaine to think the fight would be over so soon. They usually don’t fight for long (if ever), but Blaine never considered Sam to be… well, petty. He apologized and for a second there it really seemed resolved, and then as if a lightswitch flicked they were at a place they hadn’t been since they were sixteen: not talking. Blaine’s come a long way from the guy who would bend over backwards to ease someone else’s unwarranted anger and he thinks he’s actually in the right here. What’s wrong with Harry? It’s not love--- it won’t ever be, but it’s fine when they’re together and fine when they’re apart and really, he doesn’t have to justify anything to anyone but himself. It’s not like he’s going to stop seeing someone because his friend doesn’t like him for reasons undisclosed. 

...Right? 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss Sam like a missing limb. They were usually attached at the arm, almost literally since Sam was a very physical guy and the past month felt like the coldest winter New York ever recorded. Harry never asked what everything going on with Sam was. Blaine never brought it up. Harry wasn’t a big oversharer, and while he was a good listener, Blaine just didn’t feel like that was something he wanted said aloud. Sam was a good guy, and as his best friend it was reasonable to be protective of him. He was just… Confusing. Sometimes. 

Besides, work really starts to pick up. Blaine’s working on a few theater classes he’s been helping out with, and while he hates the space, the extra time gives him the push he really needed professionally. He arrives early and stays late, and before he knows it, they’re offering him a spot in the new office they’re opening up in L.A. for acting on film. He laughs, at first. Tells his boss he couldn’t possibly leave now, that he appreciates the offer but is happy where he is. 

But over the next few weeks, he’s starting to question the reasons to stay. New York’s been great, but maybe it is time for a change? New start, new Blaine, new everything. Really makes him start to consider what happens if he leaves. Nothing concrete, and he still denies the move every time he’s asked, but there’s definitely a lot more maybe’s. 

It’s February when things start going south. After the fact, Blaine will realize it was actually much, much sooner they knew they were never going to make it but the break up happens on a Tuesday. “What about Birds of Prey? Sam said it was---” 

Harry sighs with force, and Blaine looks at him curiously. “Can we maybe not talk about Sam today?” Harry’s on the couch, rubbing at the bridge of his nose where he knows a headache is blooming. He’d come home tired from work and said he’d ‘just wanted to watch a movie’, but parallel to a similar conversation he had with a certain blonde a few months prior he has no idea what this tension is about. 

Blaine asks: “What?” Because clearly, he’s missing something. 

“I’m just saying, maybe one conversation that doesn’t somehow wrap back around to your other boyfriend.” 

THAT causes something similar to a bodily double take. “What!?” He’s literally stumped. He gets random people assuming that about him and Sam, Blaine’s pretty blatant about his pride and Sam’s a very touchy person but Harry definitely knows better. 

Harry’s sitting up, still rubbing at his forehead with calm frustration, but his words are steady. “Listen, Blaine, I mean this in the nicest way possible but I won’t be your consolation prize.” 

Blaine's mind is reeling. The comedy series cameras are coming out at any minute, he knows it. They may not be in love, but Blaine thought they had a good thing going. Nothing revolutionary or world-ending but long enough to last through Harry’s photography contract till May at the very least. 

“You’re not my consolation prize.” And yet, there’s a growing storm in the back of his head that says maybe that’s the exact phrase he’s been looking for. That when Sam was busy, he needed a place to be and lo and behold he’d ended up at Harry’s. 

Harry sighs again, his favorite expression of the night, and stands. Golden hair flopping in his face and steady hands on his hips to perfectly complement that annoyed pinched look still on his face. “Fine.” He says, body poised like there was a challenge presented. “How about this: How often do you talk about me?"

Blaine's face must ask the same question he'd already voiced twice before. Harry rephrases: "Like, when I’m not around and you’re telling a story. How often, day to day, do I cross your mind.” Blaine opens his mouth to speak and then closes it just as fast. He’s not sure which is worse, a lie or the truth. He’s not sure either even needs to be said. 

Maybe mercifully, Harry doesn’t give him the chance. “Better yet, how often do you miss me? When I’m not there and you’re alone, who’s the first person who you want to seek out.”

Oh. Blaine’s stumped. The answer was easy, of course. He can’t think of the last person he talked about Harry with. There just… isn’t much to tell. “I---” And he stops himself before he can say ‘I talk to Sam about you sometimes’ because not only is that not true anymore, but that’s probably the last name Harry apparently wants to hear. And as for the other thing… well… that didn’t need to be said. 

Harry’s face though lightens to resolve. Like that was the answer he was looking for. Like he knew what Blaine was going to say.

If their fight meant anything, he probably did. 

“Yeah.” He said, and for some reason that was the most blatant break up he’d ever heard. And he’d heard a lot. 

Blaine’s still a little stunned at the revelations of it all, but he starts to pack up his stuff to leave. Somewhere between the door and his previous spot on the battlefield Harry speaks up again, going back to an exhausted slump on the couch. “For the record, nobody is going to be your replacement boyfriend. Someday he’s going to have to come second.” 

And because Blaine’s still a little hurt from the whole ‘we just broke up’ of it all, he doesn’t deign that with a response. Just nods, closes the door, and doesn’t look back. 

When he gets to the apartment it’s dark and quiet, but that was expected. It’s late, and after their recent distance Sam probably wouldn’t appreciate Blaine lying on his bed in the middle of the night just to dump all of his boyfri---- ex boyfriend problems, like he used to. Even if Sam hadn’t hated his ex, Blaine thinks that this is something he’s got to think about on his own. He resolves to tell him in the morning. 

But then morning becomes Thursday, and Thursday becomes the weekend and it isn’t until Sunday that Blaine sees his best friend again. And at this point, he’s kind of pissed too. They get into fights like any two normal humans do, but that’s no right for Sam to phase Blaine out of his life completely. And if he has such a big problem with Harry that he won’t even be friends with Blaine then that’s too low of a bar for Blaine to limbo under so their silence stretches on. Blaine’s had several rough patches but this one was the worst. Pining over your straight best friend was so high school. 

Maybe L.A. didn't sound so bad after all.

+1 

All roads lead back to Lima. Now that they both have real, structured jobs they can’t go back to glee club for every themed mash-off week, but for some of the big competitions they still manage to make it. And Sectionals was well worth the drive, especially considering it was at McKinley this year. 

Blaine would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy that Sam would have no way out for the 9 hours it took to drive. Maybe they’d finally talk about this, maybe they’d finally clear it. Maybe he’d tell him he’s got an interview in Los Angeles on Monday. 

But Santana was filming some indie film upstate, so by the time Thursday came around she and Britt were returning their rental car and Blaine and Sam were picking them up. The ride to the airport was weird. They talked, as they always did, but there was a thick line of tension they weren’t crossing. The new Marvel show and general office gossip kept them occupied until the girls got in the car, and by then there was no way to bring up their issues without making their guests feel INCREDIBLY awkward. Luckily, they were show choir kids at heart and the new Taylor Swift album really came in handy during silences. Sam seemed jumpier though. Like he’s waiting for something, and Blaine sincerely hopes it’s not an apology. 

When they stop for gas, Britt announces she needs sour patch kids and Sam all but leaps out of his seat to join her. Blaine and Santana notice, watching the blondes disappearing into the store. 

Santana leans against the car. “What’s with trouty?” 

The warbler frowns. “You know he doesn’t like that.” 

She rolls her eyes, watching the meter climb. Blaine knows it’s a term of endearment more than anything, but as was evident in his relationship with Harry, he’s a little sensitive about Sam. 

But without Sam himself to talk to, Blaine’s been kind of bottling it up. Maybe now was the time to admit they weren’t what they used to be. That he doesn’t understand why Sam choose now, of all times to decide he hates seeing each other. Blaine sighs, feeling like his whole body slumps with it. “To tell you the truth, I have no idea.” The back of his head hits the car and his eyes go skyward, where rain is dripping from the ugly gas station roof. “I think he’s mad at me.” 

“I thought you two were the inseparable butt buddies or something.” 

Blaine ignored the implication---they often had to when people spoke of what was commonly referred to as blam. 

“We were! Are! I don’t know, we got into some fight about my now ex-boyfriend and I thought it was over awhile ago but nothing has felt the same, you know?” 

Santana removed the nozzle and closed the gas cap, finally crossing her arms. “So ask him about it?” 

“I’ve been trying--- he’s been avoiding me.” 

Because really there was no other word for it, Blaine couldn’t keep living in denial. Hell, they were ROOMMATES and the most he saw Sam was on snapchat stories. And the whole realization of his crush didn’t make things easier, either. Then again if there was one person who understood pining over your best friend… she was currently fixing her hair in the car mirror.

“I don’t know what to do.” And maybe Santana understood and maybe she didn’t. She looked sympathetic but knowing that if Blaine didn’t want to breach it, she wouldn’t either. Actually, lightening it with deprecating humor was probably more in line. 

“Well, I’m sure the stool choir number you’ve prepared to sing all your giddy school boy feelings is gonna be killer.” 

And Blaine knows it was a joke, but more than anything he’s surprised he didn’t think of that. That was why they became friends in the first place: the music. That MJ number after Blaine was an asshole to the new-not-new kid, but Blaine’s gone that route. He’s made an idiot of himself in front of the whole glee club and there was something to be said about breaking the cycle. Maybe Los Angeles wasn’t the answer, but pretending he’s not the same lovesick kid he was in high school clearly isn’t as brilliant of a plan as he’s been trying. Maybe it could be a goodbye song. Sam really was the best friend he’d ever had.

“Actually, I think I might be moving.” He says, in as close to a whisper as the busy gas station allows. 

“On?” 

Blaine laughs. If anything, Harry taught him that ‘moving on’ wasn’t possible. Maybe not without moving out. And god, how pathetic that even that song reminded him of Sam Evans. “To Los Angeles, actually. I fly out after sectionals.” Santana’s surprise is evident on her usually stoic face, and her mouth opens to voice whatever thought formed—

But just then the little jingle of a door opening rang out and the laughter of two McKinley alum sounded. They had armfulls of candy they definitely didn’t need for what was a six hour drive left. Sam slid into his passenger seat in tandem with Blaine sitting behind the wheel, and within a few seconds Sam had a bag of twizzlers outstretched to his side of the car. His favorite. 

“Thanks.” He said, a little surprised. Sam smiled brightly and earnestly, and Blaine didn’t even have to think about returning the sentiment back, his heart was already fluttering. It took a second, but the scene broke and he quickly brought his bearings back quick enough to turn on the car with unsuspicious timing. Sam Evans, the one person in this world Blaine thought he understood was an enigma. 

The rest of the drive was uneventful, but fun. Santana was working on a debut album some years in the future and they ran through some runs, and pitched ideas, and harmonized. They switched off driving, and played games, and slept. At one point, with the women in the front and Blam in the back, Sam’s eyelids finally dropped to the point of no return and his shaggy blonde head ended up on Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine smiled contentedly, and rested his own on top. One of the best naps of his life. 

Everybody kind of went their separate ways in Lima. Everybody but Sam still had family living here, and Sam always made it a point to stay with, and subsequently cook for the Hudson-Hummels as a thank you for letting him live there his senior year. 

Blaine really wasn’t tired. What he was now, was determined. Because if this was the end, if this was it for them, at the very least living in tandem then Blaine wanted to remember the good rather than the unrequited bad. Everybody was a little in love with Sam Evans, and they were still his friend! Blaine wasn’t in high school anymore, his childhood bedroom reminded him of that, so it was time to grow up. Maybe the lesson here was just to enjoy the time he was allowed.

Friday was always a good day in Glee Club. Their competition was the next day, meaning they were finishing up rehearsing and whatever specialty week Mr. Schuester had decided would inspire creativity. Almost all of the alums make it back to McKinley to show their support, with the rest who couldn’t take a day off work showing up the next day. It’s a little awkward seeing Kurt again. The same tension between Sam and Mercedes, but a couple of group songs later and everybody forgets about any history applicable. It’s a mash-up week anyway, and they always did harmonize well. 

They get divided up to help the new kids, and Blaine and Sam immediately look at each other when that’s announced. At least that hasn’t changed. Together, they get Jane and Mason. It’s hours later, after rehearsal that Mason asks Blaine in private how to tell Jane his feelings, and Blaine almost laughs at the circle of life of it all. 

~

Sam tried his hardest. He really and truly did, but not having Blaine in his life was bleak and boring, and Sam lived on a constant search for happiness. He was happiest with Blaine. And if Blaine could still be his friend their senior year, when he was on the other end of an unreciprocated crush, then Sam could do the same. By the time they make it to Lima he’s resolved in his decision to simply suppress his feelings until he can just be genuinely happy for his friend and his boyfriend. Britt’s advice in that gas station really helped too. Funny, almost, how Sam was dating Santana when they went through a similar thing. If he ever got the chance, he’d tell Blaine how he felt, and if not, he’d support his best friend with whatever relationship he choose. All he knew for sure was that he wanted Blaine in his life for the long run. 

That being said, the New Directions always did know how to place TnT to his hastily laid plans. 

They all go out the night before sectionals— all of the originals that were in town. There’s really only one club within a stone’s throw of Lima, and most people really haven’t changed from their high school party ways. Tina, Sugar and Mercedes are still the happy drunks, catching up on all the gossip they’d missed while apart, Rachel and Finn were off doing Rachel and Finn things. Kurt and Mike were next up at the mic and Sam, Puck, Quinn, Santana, Brittany and Artie were nursing their own drinks after coming off a successful karaoke rendition of “I Knew You Were Trouble.”

Blaine, who was always just on the edge of Sam’s periphery was talking to some dude Sam thinks was maybe once a warbler. A year older than them, if he remembers Blaine’s old Dalton stories correctly but Sam’s working on his jealously and won’t intrude unless he’s asked. Blaine hasn’t asked. 

“I am not going to another glee-themed wedding.” Puck jokes, nodding towards the pair. There’s a sick, twisty feeling in his stomach at the words, but Sam knows thats not what this is. Blaine, for whatever it’s worth, is happy with Harry and that’s that. 

“Bold of you to assume you’re invited.” Santana quips with a smile, eyebrow quirking in that quintessentially Santana way.

“And deprive the dance floor of these sweet moves?” Puck’s signature saw move has them all laughing. And whether it’s the nostalgia or the drinks, the air of good feelings is contagious. 

“More like spare our reputation. If it’s a warbler wedding then I strongly vote Mike and Britt are the only ones allowed anywhere near the dance floor.” Artie says, earning an affronted gaze Sam and Puck share.

“And Santana.” Brittany says, earning a self-confident but grateful shrug from her girlfriend.

“And maybe Tina if it’s a cash bar.” Artie says. “But that’s it.”

Santana hums her agreement and Sam’s on his way to defend the sacred art of the body roll when Quinn beats him to the next word, nodding at the Dalton pair yet again. “Anyways, didn’t think you were the type to confuse a one-night stand with a relationship, Puck. That is clearly just a hookup.”

Blaine leans in to listen to whatever button-up had to say and Sam simultaneously wants to look away forever and throw himself in between. Instead, his interjection to the conversation was quick, and he tried to deliver it devoid of emotion. “Blaine’s with someone.” And Sam was going to have to be okay with that.

“Not anymore.”  Brittany says. Bright and in that airy loveliness Sam remembered. But he couldn’t blame the alcohol or even his own comprehension skills on his confusion this time. He questioned her with a look, remembering their conversation only a day prior and while she had initially seemed confident in her declaration her face quickly turned to confusion when her eyes slid to something on Sam’s side. When Sam turned to look, the end of Santana’s mouthed sentence was cut out and their eyes met. She looked shocked, caught, even, and Sam was really wondering how he was the odd man out here.

“What?” Brittany said, concern written in her gaze at her girlfriend. “He is, that’s what you said, you said Blaine broke up with Harry Potter?” 

Santana’s eyes were wide and her mouth was pinched. She gave Brittany one last, startled look before steeling on Sam. Whatever had happened was done and she was clearly giving in to it. Maybe even a little defensively. “They broke up a few weeks ago.” Sam’s thoughts turn to static. “You might’ve known if you’d spoken to him at all.” 

There’s a thousand and one things Sam wants to say to that. A denial, another clarification, an old school rom com shout of joy, but all Sam’s brain can focus on is the future. On making this right, he’d said if he’d ever get the chance again he wouldn’t wait a second and he’s getting that RIGHT NOW. 

It takes all of Sam’s strength and a couple extra shots with Santana and Puck not to break up the reunion happening. For the first time in well, all the time he’s been there he’s actually not focused on Blaine at all when he miraculously appears next to Sam, effortlessly joining the conversation. Unnamed Dalton guy nowhere to be found. They’re close, shoulders brushing and all but leaning in to each other with the weight of alcohol and each touch feels like lightning running up his skin. When some old school Weeknd song comes on, it’s Blaine’s hand on his that drags him to the dance floor. Blaine’s voice that says “I love this song” that makes Sam think although he doesn’t know the words, he might love it too. Blaine who doesn’t stop dancing with him when the song ends and the next starts. And the next. And the next. 

It’s in his drunken, elated stupor he knows tonight’s not the night. Not for what he wants, not for what they deserve. They’re laughing and moving in tandem and when all their friends join in on the albeit sloppy but bonding fun, there’s no complaints in Sam’s head. Tonight is fun in a way they haven’t had since before Harry came around and while the night ends with going their separate ways, it’s Sam who’s watching Blaine’s uber leave until he’s left with nothing but his smile and that funny little feeling of flying in his stomach. Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow. 

~

Saturday morning is as crazy as memory serves. Blaine’s morning is spent in a whirlwind getting each one of their personal friends to agree to his elaborate ‘goodbye Sam’ performance, all leading up to the grand finale on the stage after all the crowds have left and the new Directions have long since won. Last night was great. A reminder of all the things quintessentially Sam Evans he’ll miss. The easy way he could be himself around him. The laughter, the inside jokes, the dorky dance moves, the stalling next to each other because leaving alone just felt weird. It was a perfect night, and they deserved a perfect send off. 

When event time nears, Roderick has a little bit of a freak out that Sam and Artie are thankfully able to deescalate, Mason has a wardrobe malfunction Tina and Blaine are assigned to and Rachel spends more than an hour talking to both Kitty and Madison about stage presence and it’s not till they’re being ushered into their seats that Blaine and Sam really see each other again. And when the lights dim, they’ve got enough respect for the art that even their epic love story will have to wait. 

It’s like every movie premiere they’d ever been to together and they’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the theater. The energy Sam is radiating in the seat next to him is palpable, and Blaine has no idea what’s gotten into him. A sentiment, he’s realized, has become the norm these past few months. He’s positively BUZZING in his seat next to Blaine, and more so than the typical tight squeeze, the arm and leg space they share isn’t just bumping up against one another, they’re pressed. It’s nice, if fleeting. Maybe even nicer as a goodbye, as the competition is going a little longer than Blaine would like and it's getting harder and harder to focus.

He's set everything up for the stage— for after all the crowds have left and the New new Directions have hopefully bowed to their well deserved win. He thinks the stage is perfect for them. It’s where everything went wrong, then right and then perfect for them together. He’s got to go right after his goodbye, with his mom taking him all the way to Columbus for his flight in the morning. It’s a time crunch, and Blaine knows they’ve been in this weird freefall, but they deserve a goodbye.

Blaine’s pretty sure his eardrums burst with the applause earned by the New Directions. The alumni are nearly climbing the seats to hug and celebrate with each other when they’re crowned the winners, moving this way to celebrate with each individual person in a flurry of love. It’s like caffeine and adrenaline replace Blaine’s blood and everything from there is static. This was a sign. Everything was going to go right, they’d get their well deserved moment together and it’s only when Blaine turns to tell him as much when he notices, through all the celebrations, that Sam is nowhere to be found. 

There's a panic in his chest when he realizes it, because he'd even paid the band to keep the set up. He's got a whole performance, complete with Tina, Mike & Britt as his back-up dancers (old school style) and it's going to be a beautiful performance right down to the references of their history he'd choreographed into the performance. It's Mason, with his arm around a smiling Jane who tells him Sam went to the choir room. It’s a quick decision to follow him, and Blaine only shoots one apologetic look back at his friends before he’s out the door and off to find his friend. Sam meant too much, Blaine would miss him too much. 

If it was their last night then Blaine was going to make it a reminder of all their best. 

He's a few steps into the choir room, a full body sigh of relief leaving his body when the back of Sam's blonde head comes into view and he's talking to the bassist --- the floppy haired one, saying "---and it's got to be perfect." 

The room looks amazing. Better than any other party they'd had, including any sing-off and celebration. There's red flowers and a small stage and a specifically set lighting, complete with all the band members Blaine hadn't gotten to in a semi-circle to what is obviously the main show. And at the center of all of it is Sam. Looking handsome as ever with his hair brushed back and that stupid suit he’d worn to their ‘swearing in’ as President and VP. Sam who's just now noticed Blaine's come in--- mouth slightly ajar and yet no words escaped. This was...

"Sam---" The silence was too long. Or maybe it was the tension, whatever it was shattered like glass at Blaine's stunned sentence turned question. 

"The uh, music was supposed to be playing by now, that wasn't your cue yet." He's smiling --- the real, bashful, genuine one that reaches his eyes and while he looks a little surprised, mystified even, he looks happy. Makes Blaine smile without realizing. "The guitarist isn't here yet."

Blaine thought he was speechless until he heard himself say: "What? were you---"

"I like me better when I'm with you." Sam promptly cut him off. Still smiling but in that sideways Sam Evans style of his. "That was the song. And well, kind of the message. I am better with you. I like us together."

Blaine would have time to overthink the implications of THAT later. Sam was planning a send-off, he thought distantly. He must’ve found out and wanted some way to get Blaine to stay and he’s just about to say as much when Sam takes three confident steps forwards. When there’s nothing but a foot between them, when Blaine’s vision is just filled with Sam Evans, the taller takes his hands gently and holds them gently between them. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, quietly. Blaine distantly notes the band leaving but he doesn’t much care. Truthfully, Blaine’s not doing a whole lot of critical thinking right now, all he can really focus on is the soft curve of Sam’s lips this up close and the way their hands slot together as well as their personalities do. He comes crashing back to Earth when Sam continues. “I know I’ve been distant. And probably confusing. It’s like, you know in When Harry Met Sally when… No, that’s wrong, we never hated each other.” His eyebrows bunch in thought. “You know how Professor X and Magneto— No, that’s not a good comparison.” Sam’s gaze finally dips, deep in thought and for as much as Blaine loves this about them, the whole sharing of interests of it all, he’d really like to get to the point here. 

“Sam.” He nudges their joined hands a little.

“Right.” Sam says, steeling once again, stare returning to Blaine’s, solidifying the intensity of the moment. His shoulders square and Blaine braces himself for impact.

“I love you.” Sam says. And it’s said with power. Not a question, not anything left up to interpretation. He says it like a statement. Unfailing. Intense. Real. “I love you and I think I have for some time now.” 

Blaine’s heart is pounding so loud he wonders if it’s messing with the acoustics of the room. Cruelty was never Sam’s specialty, but if he thinks that saying this will stop him from leaving, that it’s just some last ditch effort to convince Blaine to stay and he’d stoop low enough to pretend to feel half of what Blaine does then everything he’d thought about his best friend was a castle crumbling with Blaine buried underneath. 

“I—” Really, on Blaine's end, that’s never been up for debate. But, if this is what he dreads it is, he can’t say it. Not like this. “if you think this is going to stop me from leaving, then I—”

“You’re leaving?” 

Blaine stops, jerking back a little bit. Sam’s eyes are surprised and earnest. Oh, shit. So he didn’t know then. Embarrassment starts to seep in that this is how he found out. “I— yeah, I got an interview for the new office in L.A. on Monday.” If Sam didn’t hate him before, he did now. He almost wants to move out of Sam’s orbit, to put some distance when the whole break-up not break-up happens but their hands are still connected and Sam does the weirdest thing anyway. He smiles. 

“Blaine, that’s awesome!” He beams, in lieu of the anger Blaine had imagined. 

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be? That’s huge for you and anyway, I’ve always wanted to touch the Hollywood sign.”

A hundred different thoughts bounce around in his head at that. Not only is the Hollywood sign not touch-able, but you’d have to be IN California to be anywhere near it. Like, in L.A. kind of close. He blinks a few times before understanding, “You’re... coming too?”

Sam didn’t even seem to consider the possibility he wasn’t, but now that he has there’s a bit of apprehension creeping in to his usually confident exterior. “Hopefully.” He sways impossibly closer and that little flower of hope in Blaine’s chest blossoms like spring. “I mean I---I have to sort out some things in New York first but..." His grip tightens. "That’s kind of what I was trying to say.” Sam’s gaze darts down to his lips, and while it breaks the concentrated gaze, it does nothing but set the tension ablaze. “Wherever you are is where I want to be.”

It’s everything. Everything and more and Blaine's starting to think fantasy is overrated because if this, THIS is real life then he's never opening another comic again. But he's been wrong before and there's the question he's been too afraid to ask just on the tip of his tongue. Love was never the question here, it was whether it was the same kind.

"Sam, you have to know what this sounds like. What this---" He gestures with their interlocked hands, hitting Sam's stomach with the nonexistent distance between them. "It sounds like a come on."

"Then I've said it right." 

All the air rushes out of Blaine like it's trying to escape. 

"Blaine, I-- I there's a lot I want to say but you know I'm no good at remembering things so I'm just going to say it all in one. I was stupid to think it was anybody but you. You are the best part of my day, every day, and while I love what we have, value it more than anything, I… I want date nights, and date stay-in nights, and fighting over who’s friends wedding-baby-retirement shower we have to go to. I just, I want more? I want this–” he gestures to their hands, thinks for a second and then removes his right hand, resting it gently on Blaine’s rapidly flushing cheek. “And this—” His eyes, so strong and focused on Blaine’s throughout most of the speech dipped then. To his lips. The next wish was barely spoken. The thought of a whisper almost, as Sam said “and—” 

Any coherent thought follows it on the way out and when Sam leans in, slow and careful and watching for Blaine’s reactions, Blaine mirrors the movement. Whoever crosses the middle first is lost to the senses as their lips meet. Blaine’s hands going to Sam’s neck, threaded in the hair that curls at his neck. Sam’s own move to surround Blaine on either side, pressing them both impossibly closer together. It’s not perfect. Sam’s got to readjust with the height difference and it’s not like Blaine had counted on making out with anybody today but it’s everything. EVERYTHING. 

Oh. So that’s what that would feel like.

Every fantasy he’d ever had could never do this moment justice. It was real, and imperfect and so perfectly them, that even the bounds of imagination would never compare. Blaine wants to stay in this moment forever. Pushed past the bounds of time, locked in this moment where he feels like he’s flying and simultaneously like he’s never felt so real in his life.

It occurs to him then, that he’s so glad this happened in the choir room. No way they’d get to continue this without a wolf-whistle or two from all their old glee friends who were probably patiently waiting in the auditorium. 

A blessing, then, that Blaine’s own surprise had kind of been ruined. So incredibly them, however, they’d tried to make the same move. He laughs, a mere slip but it breaks the gentle slide of their lips and they break apart just enough to rest their foreheads together.

“Am I that out of practice?” Sam says. They’re both still smiling, sharing in the moment that’s left Blaine’s lips tingling. “See that was supposed to come after the whole emotional choir-room special. I swear it was going to be so much more—” Sam made a grand gesture with his hand, and Blaine missed the touch immediately. 

He shook his head. “No, no, it’s just. Maybe we do share everything, including thoughts.” Sam's smile was small and patient, still waiting for the tie-in to their current situation. 

Blaine brought one of his own hands to Sam’s cheek, mirroring an earlier experience and shrugging with nonchalance he didn’t feel as he said “There’s kind of a similar performance set up for you in the auditorium.” 

Sam threw his head back in a laugh. Bright and warm and happier than Blaine's seem him in a long time. Blaine did that. “Then what are we still doing here?” 

He couldn’t agree more, honestly. With the bright light of a future together between them, Blaine wants nothing more than to run headfirst into it all. But he’s older now. Smarter. Love is magical, but communication can be it’s downfall and just as he’d been prepared to sing about later tonight, he had no intentions of losing Sam. Blaine’s hand pulled on Sam’s arm, nudging him to stop before leaving. A kiss didn't magically solve all their problems. “I still want to talk about this later.”

“Me too.”

“About the fight.”

“Me too.”

“And the kiss.”

“Me too.” 

“And L.A.”

“That too.”

Blaine stared at Sam. He’d always admired how honest he was. How little he tried to hide his true feelings, how his excitement shined in that boyish smile and the easy way he cared about people. This was real. Real and theirs and for the first time in a long time Blaine knew whatever happened in the future would be alright, because at the very least they’d go through it all together. 

“Alright, let’s go.” Sam gave a soft ‘yes’ and moved towards the door. Blaine speaking from a few steps behind: “Please still act surprised when you see it, Santana bet me twenty dollars you’d make an Owen Wilson ‘wow’ impression when you saw the stage.”, earning a quick spin from Sam as he whispered “wait a minute” And leaned in again. For all their first kiss was apprehensive and tentative, this was all confidence. Blinding, consuming, passionate in a mess of lips & tongue and Blaine’s a little dizzy when Sam breaks it all too quickly and says “OK, now let’s go.” and grabs Blaine’s hand on the way out. 

Together. Blaine was always a fan of that plan. 

~~~

“A little to the left.”

“The same left that was too left three moves ago?” 

“⅓ of that left.” 

Sam pretended to move the frame, and Blaine clapped like an expert on HGTV. “Perfect! Right there.” 

Sam placed his hands on his hips, leaning back to look at the wall in full, knowing what this meant and still kind of not really believing it. “I think that’s it.” He said, smile twinging his lips as he looked back at his boyfriend. “We’re officially moved in.” 

“Only took us a year for our last box, that’s actually an improvement for us.” Blaine agreed sagely, helping Sam down from the couch with a hand on his, one they didn’t break once he was righted. 

“Only a year.” Sam nodded, smile turning into more of a knowing smirk. 

Blaine’s own smile was broken only by his words. Proud and nearly bursting at the affectionate seems as he said “I love you.” 

“I know.” Sam returned all too quickly, hand finding its way to cradle Blaine’s face, fingers cupping behind his ear. For all they loved their references, Blaine knew Sam couldn’t resist getting to say it back. “I love you.” and then the kiss was stealing his breath on a whim. 

Blaine would happily stay in this moment forever and then some, unfortunately… “Nuh uh, no way. No way are you two missing another party orchestrated by yourselves, because you’re too busy making out like horny high schoolers. Get your asses to the car.” 

Sam laughed, and broke apart with a sigh. Hands never leaving his waist, as had often become common. It had turned out, after all, ‘touchy Sam’ was more of a Blaine specific thing. No complaints from Blaine, at least. 

“We’ll meet you out there.” Sam said, making no motion to move. 

Santana rolled her eyes, being the inventor of that particular move and throwing a hand out that reached Sam’s arm and bodily pulling them towards the door. “Let’s go, Romeo. Save it for the cavity-inducing speeches.”

Sam stole a last kiss before he allowed himself to be dragged off by Santana. “Happy one year.” He said, giving Brittany the chance to rattle off some statistics about the year. Blaine hung back, for a few seconds. A year. The best year. Maybe Blaine’s favorite year and that includes winning a national championship and going to Broadway, and all the other cool stuff he’s ever done in his life. Los Angeles was great. Blaine was promoted, essentially running the show, and working on both his own music and others on the label. Sam was working with an independent publisher on the south end, helping the premiere of some of their newest comics, invited to some of the brainstorming meetings he’d been waiting his whole life for. Sometimes he’d even get off early enough to visit Blaine in the studio, working on all the things Blaine could only ever say in music. L.A. was great. But what really made this a stand-out year for Blaine was the company. A year of them finally finding their best rhythm, which was always better together. 

“Happy one year.”