Archive of Our Own ^beta

The choir room was buzzing with energy as the glee club gathered for their latest assignment: guilty pleasures week. Blaine sat at the piano, a smile curling at his lips as he tapped out a few notes. Across the room, Sam plopped into a chair, stretching out with his usual carefree charm, his legs sprawled wide and his face lighting up with curiosity.

“All right, everyone,” Blaine announced, his voice warm and inviting. “This week is about celebrating the music we secretly love—no judgment, no shame, just fun.”

Sam shot Blaine a goofy grin. “Does this mean I finally get to show off my Duran Duran mashup?”

Blaine’s heart skipped a beat, as it often did when Sam’s grin hit him like that—wide and carefree, like the world couldn’t touch him. He recovered quickly, matching Sam’s energy. “I think the world’s been waiting for it, Sam.”

The group laughed, but Blaine’s gaze lingered on Sam a second too long, hoping Sam didn't notice. Sam caught it, arching a brow slightly before glancing at Tina and Kitty, who exchanged knowing looks. Sam shrugged it off, but the moment stuck in the back of his mind.

Later, Blaine was flipping through his sheet music in the choir room when Sam strolled in, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Hey, Blaine,” he started, his tone deliberately casual. “You’ve got a guilty pleasure song lined up, right? I mean, you came up with this whole thing.”

Blaine glanced up, momentarily startled but quickly recovering. “Of course,” he said with a small smile. “I was thinking Wham!’s ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.’ It’s bright, it’s fun, and it’s completely ridiculous. What’s more guilty pleasure than that?"

Sam’s grin stretched wide. “Dude, you’re speaking my language. Let’s do it together. Full choreography, costumes, the whole deal.”

Blaine blinked. “Wait, you want to perform Wham! with me?”

“Yeah, man! The glee club’s gonna love it,” Sam said, his enthusiasm infectious. “Plus, if we go all out, it’ll help everyone else feel comfortable enough to go for it with their own songs.” He paused, his grin turning mischievous. “And, come on, how hilarious would we look in those tiny little Wham! shorts?”

Blaine’s brain briefly short-circuited at the thought of Sam in those “tiny Wham! shorts.” He could feel his face heat up, but he managed a laugh. “Okay,” he said, his voice just slightly strained. “But if we’re doing this, we’re going all in. Neon, headbands, and… yes, the shorts.”

“Deal,” Sam said, holding out his fist for a bump. Blaine returned it, trying not to focus on the warmth of Sam’s hand or the confident ease in his grin. Sam, meanwhile, couldn’t help noticing Blaine’s flustered reaction. He wouldn’t admit it, but he liked the way Blaine seemed to get a little flustered around him. It gave him a bit of an ego boost. Nothing weird about that, right? Everyone liked a little attention. He decided to leave it at that.

The next day, the two of them met in the auditorium to rehearse. Blaine had managed to source the most ridiculous costumes imaginable: neon tank tops, sweatbands, and, of course, the infamous Wham! shorts.

Sam held up the shorts with a skeptical look. “Dude, these are so short I feel like I’m breaking some kind of law."

Blaine laughed nervously, adjusting the sound system to keep his eyes averted. But when Sam started changing, peeling off his shirt to pull on a tank top, Blaine glanced over without thinking. His breath caught. Sam’s abs were… well, distracting. Blaine quickly turned back to the soundboard, his cheeks burning.

Sam caught the look but didn’t let on. Instead, he tugged on the shorts and struck an exaggerated pose. “How do I look? Like a true ’80s pop star?”

Blaine cleared his throat, trying to sound normal. “You look… perfect. I mean, ridiculous. In the best way.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, a little caught off guard by the comment. “You’re not so bad yourself, dude. You’ve got the whole George Michael thing going on.”

Blaine laughed, his heart racing as he busied himself with the music and just hoped Sam wouldn’t notice the way his hands were shaking.

As they rehearsed, Sam couldn’t help but notice how much fun Blaine seemed to be having. His laugh was infectious, and his energy was magnetic. But every now and then, Sam caught Blaine looking at him—really looking—and it made Sam’s stomach flip in a way he didn’t understand.

“You’ve got the moves down,” Blaine said as they wrapped up a run-through. “You’re like a natural pop star.”

Sam grinned, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, well, it’s easy when you’ve got the perfect partner.”

Blaine’s cheeks flushed, and Sam noticed. Something about Blaine’s reaction lingered in his mind long after rehearsal ended. Blaine wasn’t acting like he usually did. There was something softer, something more intense in the way he looked at Sam. And… Sam didn’t hate it. In fact, he kind of liked it.

That night, Sam lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling as the day’s events replayed in his mind. He couldn’t shake the image of Blaine’s face—the way his cheeks flushed, the way his eyes lingered. Blaine’s laugh rang in his ears, warm and genuine. Sam thought about the way Blaine’s gaze had flicked over him earlier, quick but undeniably there. It made his chest feel tight in a way he couldn’t explain.

“What’s your deal, Evans?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. Blaine was his friend. If Blaine had a… thing for him, that was fine. Sam didn’t care about that kind of stuff. But why did it matter so much that Blaine seemed to like looking at him? Why did it make him feel… good?

His stomach twisted at the thought. It wasn’t like he wanted Blaine to have a crush on him. Not really. But something about the idea stuck in his head, stubborn and unrelenting. Maybe it was just the attention. Everyone liked attention, didn’t they?

Sam sighed and rolled onto his side, determined to push the thoughts away. But even as he closed his eyes, Blaine’s smile lingered in his mind, bright and disarming. And deep down, Sam wasn’t sure if he wanted it to go away.

The next rehearsal brought more of the same—the bright costumes, the over-the-top choreography, and Blaine’s infectious energy. But there was something unspoken in the air between them now, a tension that made everything feel just slightly charged.

Sam found himself hyperaware of every little thing Blaine did. The way Blaine’s laugh lit up his face. The way his hand would graze Sam’s arm while showing him a move. The way his voice softened just a little when he said Sam’s name. And every time, it sent a weird, nervous jolt through Sam’s chest.

At one point, as they were practicing a particularly ridiculous dance move, Blaine tripped over his own feet and stumbled right into Sam. Sam caught him instinctively, his hands gripping Blaine’s waist to steady him. They both froze for a moment, their faces inches apart. Blaine’s eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed, and Sam felt his breath catch.

“Uh, sorry,” Blaine stammered, stepping back quickly. “I… uh, lost my footing.”

“No worries, dude,” Sam said, trying to play it cool even as his heart raced. “Just saving you from a faceplant.”

Blaine laughed nervously, and they went back to rehearsing. But the moment lingered in Sam’s mind, replaying over and over as the day went on. And with each replay, the tightness in his chest grew just a little more.

The next day, Brittany found Sam sitting alone in the courtyard during lunch, stabbing at a grape with his fork like he was trying to teach it a lesson. She slid into the seat across from him, dropping her lunch tray with a dramatic flourish.

“Are you mad at that grape?” she asked, tilting her head. “Because if you are, I can talk to it. I speak fluent fruit.”

Sam looked up, confused. “What? No. I’m just… thinking.”

Brittany’s eyes widened. “Oh no, are you stuck in a thinking loop? That happened to me once in gym class when Coach Beiste asked me how I’d get out of a bear hug, and I was like, ‘Why is a bear hugging me? Did I do something nice for it?’ and then I couldn’t stop thinking about it for hours.”

Sam stared at her, momentarily distracted. “That’s not… I mean, no. It’s not that.”

Brittany leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. “Is it about Blaine? Because you’ve been looking at him like Lord Tubbington looks at a box of Cheez-Its.”

Sam immediately flushed, his grip tightening on his fork. “What? No, I haven’t!”

Brittany tilted her head, her ponytail swinging. “It’s fine if you are. Blaine’s like… one of those tiny cupcakes you get at a wedding. Small but perfect, and you want another one as soon as you eat it.”

Sam sputtered. “I don’t—this isn’t about Blaine!”

Brittany’s eyes widened as if a light bulb had gone off in her head, and a grin spread across her face. “Wait, oh my gosh! Are you having a bi panic?!”

Sam blinked rapidly, completely thrown off. “No! I’m not having—what does that even mean?”

Brittany clasped her hands together, practically bouncing in her seat. “It’s when you’re like, ‘Wow, that guy is cute,’ and then your brain is like, ‘Wait, does this mean I’m not straight?’ but also, ‘Wow, girls are still cute too.’ It’s like your heart throws a surprise party, and you didn’t know you were invited!”

Sam groaned, rubbing his forehead. “I’m not having a bi panic. I can’t be—I’m straight.”

Brittany gasped, dramatically placing a hand over her chest. “But what if you’re not? What if you’re like me?!”

Sam froze, staring at her. “What do you mean?”

Her grin grew impossibly wider. “Bi unicorns! You and me! Matching sparkly rainbows! Oh my gosh, Santana’s going to freak out when I tell her!”

Sam practically choked. “You are not telling Santana! And seriously, I’m not—” He hesitated, his voice faltering. “I’m straight. I’ve always been straight.”

Brittany tilted her head thoughtfully, her excitement softening into something more supportive. “Okay, maybe you are. But what if you’re not? That doesn’t make you a different person, Sam. You’d still be you—just a little more sparkly.”

Sam let out a breath, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know… I’ve just been feeling weird lately, that’s all.”

Brittany’s grin returned, this time gentler but no less enthusiastic. “That’s okay. Weird feelings are kind of like glitter. They get everywhere, and you don’t know what to do with them at first, but eventually, you figure it out. And then they make everything prettier.”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You make everything sound so… magical.”

“Duh,” Brittany said with a playful shrug. “Feelings are magical. And if Blaine makes your heart feel all warm and fuzzy, that’s magical too. You don’t have to call it anything right now. Just let yourself feel it.”

Sam sighed, but her words—and her excitement—made him feel a little less cornered. “You’re kind of… amazing, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Brittany said with a playful shrug. “But you are too, even if you’re still figuring it out. Just don’t overthink it, okay? Your brain is good, but sometimes your heart knows better. And, Sam? Whether you’re straight or bi or… whatever, you’re still you. And you’re still my friend. But if you are bi, we’re totally getting matching pins that say ‘Team Rainbow.’”

Sam couldn’t stop the quiet laugh that escaped him. “Thanks, Brittany.”

She grinned, standing up and balancing her tray on one hand. “Anytime. Now, I have to go. Lord Tubbington has a therapy session with his fish, and I promised to translate.” She gave him a playful wave before skipping off, humming softly to herself.

As she disappeared into the crowd, Sam leaned back in his chair, her words replaying in his mind. For the first time in days, the pressure in his chest eased just a little. Maybe Brittany was right. Maybe he didn’t need to have all the answers yet. Maybe it was enough, for now, to just let himself feel.

Later, the choir room was alive with laughter and chatter as everyone filed in, curious and excited to see what guilty pleasure Blaine and Sam had chosen for their performance. Blaine stood at the front of the room, a confident smile on his face, while Sam adjusted the neon sweatband on his head, trying to look like he wasn’t nervous.

“You ready for this?” Blaine asked.

Sam grinned. “Born ready. Let’s give ‘em a show they won’t forget.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Blaine announced, his voice warm and theatrical, “prepare yourselves for an explosion of ‘80s pop perfection. Sam and I proudly present... Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham!”

The glee club erupted in cheers and whoops as the music started, a bright and bubbly beat filling the room. Blaine and Sam jumped right into the choreography, their neon tank tops, sweatbands, and (much to everyone’s amusement) tiny Wham! shorts practically glowing under the stage lights.

The performance was over-the-top in the best way possible—complete with exaggerated hip thrusts, finger points, and cheesy synchronized moves that had the entire club laughing and clapping along. Sam belted out the first verse with his usual carefree charm, throwing in a wink at Tina that sent her into a fit of giggles. Blaine took over for the chorus, his voice smooth and effortless as he danced with infectious energy.

Their chemistry was undeniable. Blaine’s polished precision and Sam’s natural charisma played off each other perfectly, and by the time they hit the final chorus, everyone in the room was on their feet, clapping and singing along.

“Wake me up before you go-go! Don’t leave me hanging on like a yo-yo!” Blaine and Sam sang in harmony, their voices blending seamlessly. At one point, Blaine spun around and struck a dramatic pose, pointing at Sam, who responded by dropping into an exaggerated air guitar solo that had everyone doubling over with laughter.

As the song ended with a flourish, Blaine and Sam struck their final pose—backs to each other, arms crossed, and wide grins plastered across their faces. The room erupted into applause and cheers, everyone clearly thrilled by the ridiculous yet undeniably fun performance.

“That… was amazing,” Tina said, still laughing as she wiped a tear from her eye. “I will never unsee those shorts.”

“Iconic,” Kitty added with a smirk. “You two might have missed your calling as ‘80s pop stars.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Artie said, clapping slowly. “You guys fully committed.”

Sam turned to Blaine, giving him a triumphant fist bump. “Told you the Wham! shorts would kill it.”

Blaine laughed, his cheeks flushed from both exertion and the lingering adrenaline rush of performing. “I’ll admit, you were right. But now we’re going to have to live with everyone remembering those outfits forever.”

“Worth it,” Sam said with a grin.

As the rest of the glee club launched into a discussion about their own guilty pleasure picks, Blaine and Sam slipped into their seats. Blaine couldn’t help but steal a glance at Sam, who was still basking in the afterglow of their performance. There was something magnetic about the way Sam’s eyes lit up when he smiled, and Blaine felt a familiar flutter in his chest.

Sam caught Blaine looking and raised an eyebrow. “What? Did I miss a dance move or something?”

Blaine shook his head, his smile soft. “No, you were perfect.”

Sam blinked at the comment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. But instead of brushing it off, he let himself smile back, a little softer than usual. “So were you, man.”

For a moment, the noise of the room seemed to fade, and the two of them just looked at each other. Sam’s smile lingered, but there was something softer, more curious in his eyes, like he was trying to work through something unspoken. Blaine blinked, caught in the gaze, unsure if he was reading too much into it or if something was actually there.

Before either of them could say anything, Brittany’s voice broke the silence. “I knew they were bi unicorns,” she announced cheerfully, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The room broke into light laughter, a few scattered chuckles and smirks from their teammates. Tina giggled behind her hand, while Kitty shook her head with a knowing grin. Artie just raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

Sam’s face went bright red, and he let out an awkward laugh, waving his hands. “Brittanyyyy, stop! You’re gonna make everyone think—no, just…” His voice was a little too loud, and the nervous edge made his denial sound far less convincing than he intended.

Blaine, equally flustered, stammered, “Yeah! Totally not—uh, we’re just performing, you know? It’s not—” He cut himself off, laughing awkwardly as he looked down, his cheeks matching the flush in Sam’s.

The two of them exchanged a quick, panicked glance before both laughing nervously again, trying to shrug it off like nothing had happened.

Brittany, completely unfazed, simply smiled and shrugged. “Okay, if you say so.”

The club didn’t press further, the moment passing as they began chatting about their next performances. Blaine busied himself with the sheet music, his hands shaking slightly as he adjusted the piano bench, while Sam fidgeted with the hem of his tank top, his foot tapping a restless rhythm on the floor.

As the laughter and chatter filled the room again, Blaine glanced over at Sam, who was looking anywhere but at him. “Classic Brittany,” Blaine mumbled, his voice quiet and shaky.

Sam managed a small laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Classic.”

But as the room moved on, the awkward energy between them lingered. Blaine couldn’t stop thinking about the look Sam had given him, and Sam couldn’t shake the way Blaine’s flushed face seemed to make his stomach twist. Neither of them dared to bring it up, but deep down, both knew the moment wasn’t going to leave their thoughts anytime soon.

The next couple of days in the choir room were filled with more guilty pleasures performances, each one more ridiculous and entertaining than the last. Tina surprised everyone by belting out a surprisingly emotional rendition of “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, complete with over-the-top choreography. Kitty channeled her inner diva with a dramatic performance of “Barbie Girl” by Aqua, dragging Artie into the act as her reluctant duet partner. Even Marley let loose, serenading the group with Britney Spears’ “Sometimes,” much to Jake’s delight.

Through it all, Blaine and Sam managed to avoid the awkwardness that had settled between them after their Wham! performance. They laughed at everyone’s performances, threw in teasing comments, and acted like everything was completely normal. But Blaine couldn’t ignore the way his stomach flipped whenever Sam flashed him one of his easy grins. And Sam couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts about Blaine—the way his voice sounded during their performance, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way he seemed to glow whenever he was in his element.

By the end of the week, Blaine decided he needed to address the emotions swirling in his chest. The lingering tension, the stolen glances—it was all too much. He wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it, but he thought maybe—just maybe—Sam felt it too. And if not, at least he’d be able to get it out of his system. Music was, after all, his best way of expressing himself.

The choir room was quieter than usual as Blaine stood at the piano, gathering sheet music and adjusting the mic stand. Most of the glee club was seated, chatting idly as they waited for Blaine to explain why he’d called them in.

“All right, everyone,” Blaine started, his voice a little lighter than usual. “I know we’ve had a lot of fun with guilty pleasures this week—probably more fun than we should have in some of those shorts.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the room, and Sam grinned from his seat, shooting Blaine a thumbs-up.

“But,” Blaine continued, his lips curling into a playful smile, “before we all have to put our guilty pleasures back in the closet where they belong, I wanted to do one last song. Something a little different.”

Taking a deep breath, Blaine began to play the opening notes of Phil Collins’ “Against All Odds.” The melancholic melody filled the room, and as Blaine’s voice carried the first line, the vulnerability in his tone was impossible to miss.

"How can I just let you walk away,
Just let you leave without a trace?
When I stand here taking every breath with you…"

Sam’s stomach twisted. There was something raw in Blaine’s voice, something that made it impossible to look away. As the song went on, Blaine poured every ounce of emotion into the lyrics, his voice cracking slightly at times but never wavering.

"You're the only one who really knew me at all."

The line hit harder than Sam expected, and he found himself gripping the edge of his seat, his heart racing. Blaine’s gaze drifted toward him again, lingering for just a second too long before moving away.

By the time Blaine reached the chorus, the intensity in the room was palpable. The rest of the glee club watched in stunned silence, the usual chatter and laughter completely absent.

"So take a look at me now,
There's just an empty space…"

Sam felt like the words were aimed directly at him. He didn’t know why—it wasn’t like Blaine had said anything explicitly—but the emotion in the performance, the way Blaine’s voice seemed to carry unspoken words, made something stir in his chest. He couldn’t ignore it anymore.

As the song came to its powerful conclusion, Blaine’s voice softened, almost breaking on the final line:

"And you coming back to me
Is against all odds, and that's what I've got to face."

The room stayed silent for a moment after the last note faded. Blaine’s hands rested on the piano, his head bowed slightly as he caught his breath. Slowly, Tina started clapping, and the rest of the glee club joined in, murmuring compliments about the rawness and beauty of the performance.

Blaine looked up, offering a small smile and a quiet “thank you,” but his gaze inevitably found Sam again. Sam was sitting completely still, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were fixed on Blaine.

As the choir room emptied, Sam lingered by the piano, watching Blaine shuffle through the sheet music with his head down. Sam’s heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear his own thoughts, but he forced himself to take a step forward, then another, until he was standing just a few feet away.

“Uh… hey,” Sam said, his voice coming out shakier than he intended.

Blaine turned, offering a small, polite smile. “Hey,” he said, his tone light but clearly guarded. “What’s up?”

Sam hesitated, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “So… uh… was that song—was that about me?”

Blaine froze, his hand hovering over the piano keys. His face flushed a deep red as he stammered, “What? No! I mean… why would you even think that?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. “Because it felt personal. And, uh… you kept looking at me.”

Blaine opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly scrambling for words. Finally, he let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Okay... we're doing this. Yes, it was about you. But it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal! I mean, I wasn’t even going to say anything because… because I didn’t want to make things weird between us.”

Sam frowned slightly, his expression softening. “Blaine…”

“You’re my best friend, Sam,” Blaine said quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “You’re—God, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You’re kind and funny and supportive in ways that nobody else has ever been. And you make me feel like… like I’m not just some guy. Like I’m important.” Blaine paused, taking a shaky breath. “But I know you’re straight, and I never wanted to put you in a position where you’d feel uncomfortable or… or weird around me. I didn’t want to ruin this.”

Sam stared at Blaine, his chest tightening as he listened to his words. He wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

“I just needed to get it out somehow,” Blaine continued, his voice quieter now. “That’s why I sang the song. I thought maybe if I put it into music, it’d be enough, you know? I didn’t mean for you to… figure it out.”

Sam’s hands fidgeted at his sides, his mind racing. “Blaine, you’re not gonna ruin anything,” he said finally, his voice softer now. “You’re, like, the best guy I know. And I—” He hesitated, swallowing hard. “I’m not mad, okay? I just… I didn’t know.”

Blaine offered a weak smile, his eyes still cautious. “Well, now you do. And if it’s weird or you need space or whatever, I get it. I just—”

Before Blaine could say anything else, Sam surged forward and kissed him.

The kiss was sudden and clumsy, their noses bumping slightly, and Sam’s hands fumbled awkwardly at Blaine’s shoulders. It lasted only a second before Sam pulled back abruptly, his eyes wide with panic.

“Oh my god,” Sam stammered, stumbling back a step. “I—I don’t know why I just did that. I didn’t mean to—”

“Sam,” Blaine interrupted softly, his voice steady despite the shock on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to screw this up or make things awkward, I just—I don’t know what’s wrong with me—”

“Sam,” Blaine said again, louder this time, taking a step forward.

Sam froze, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as Blaine closed the distance between them. Blaine reached out, his hand brushing lightly against Sam’s arm, and before either of them could second-guess it, Blaine kissed him.

This time, the kiss wasn’t clumsy. It was slow and deliberate, Blaine’s hands moving to rest on Sam’s shoulders as Sam leaned in, his grip tightening on Blaine’s waist. The heat between them built quickly, and what started as gentle and tentative became more intense, more desperate.

Sam’s hands slid up to cup Blaine’s face, pulling him closer as their lips moved together, the room around them fading away. Blaine’s fingers curled into the fabric of Sam’s shirt, holding on as the kiss deepened, both of them giving in to the electric pull that had been simmering beneath the surface.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily, their faces flushed and their foreheads nearly touching. Blaine’s eyes searched Sam’s, his voice coming out in a breathless whisper. “Sam…”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Sam admitted, his voice low and shaky. “But… I don’t want to stop.”

Blaine’s lips curved into a small, breathless smile. “Then don’t.”

Sam didn’t even hesitate. He surged forward, pressing his lips against Blaine’s in a kiss that was nothing like the soft, tentative ones before. This one was raw, messy, and filled with all the tension that had been building between them for weeks. Blaine gasped against Sam’s mouth, his hands flying to Sam’s chest, as if to push him away—but instead, he grabbed fistfuls of Sam’s shirt, pulling him closer.

Their breaths were ragged, their movements frantic. Sam’s hands slid to Blaine’s waist, gripping tightly as if afraid he might vanish if he didn’t hold on. Blaine melted into the kiss, his fingers tangling in Sam’s hair as he tilted his head to deepen it, a soft whimper escaping his lips. It was desperate, hungry, like they were both trying to pour weeks of unspoken feelings into this one moment.

Blaine broke away first, gasping for air, his chest heaving. “Sam,” he panted, his voice thick with emotion. “What… what are we doing?”

Sam didn’t answer with words. Instead, he cupped Blaine’s face, his thumb brushing over Blaine’s flushed cheek, and kissed him again—harder this time, more demanding. Blaine’s knees buckled, and Sam instinctively backed them up until Blaine was pressed against the edge of the piano. Blaine gripped the edge, his knuckles white, as Sam leaned into him, their bodies pressed together so tightly that Blaine could feel the heat radiating off Sam’s skin.

“I can’t stop,” Sam muttered against Blaine’s lips, his voice low and rough. “I don’t want to stop.”

Blaine let out a shaky breath, his hands sliding up to grip Sam’s shoulders as if anchoring himself. “Then don’t,” he whispered, his voice trembling but firm. “Please… don’t.”

That was all the encouragement Sam needed. He trailed his lips down Blaine’s jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his neck, making Blaine gasp and arch into him. Blaine’s fingers dug into Sam’s shoulders, his breath hitching every time Sam’s lips found a particularly sensitive spot.

“God, Blaine,” Sam murmured against his skin, his voice thick with need. “You drive me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about you… about this.”

Blaine let out a choked laugh, his head falling back as Sam’s lips moved lower, his teeth grazing the edge of Blaine’s collarbone. “You… you’re not the only one,” Blaine admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Sam.”

Sam pulled back just enough to look at him, his eyes dark and filled with something Blaine could only describe as pure, unfiltered desire. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam asked, his voice rough, his hands still gripping Blaine’s hips.

“Because I didn’t think…” Blaine trailed off, his voice faltering as his gaze darted to Sam’s lips. “I didn’t think you felt the same.”

Sam’s expression softened, his thumb brushing gently over Blaine’s cheek. “Well, now you know,” he said, his voice quieter but no less intense. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Before Blaine could respond, Sam kissed him again, this time slower but no less passionate. Blaine’s hands slid up to wrap around Sam’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer as their lips moved together, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.

In the heat of the moment, Sam’s hands roamed lower, slipping down to Blaine’s waist and then… lower. His palms brushed over Blaine’s ass, and he froze for a split second before squeezing instinctively. Blaine let out a surprised gasp against Sam’s lips, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red.

Sam pulled back just enough to look at him, his eyes wide and incredulous. “Oh my god,” he muttered, his voice filled with shock and something dangerously close to awe. “Why did I never realize how perfect your ass is?”

Blaine’s mouth fell open in disbelief, a laugh bursting out of him before he could stop it. “Sam!” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and embarrassment, his hands smacking lightly against Sam’s chest. “What the hell?”

“I’m serious!” Sam said, his grin splitting across his face as he squeezed again for emphasis. “This is… like, ridiculously unfair. How did I miss this?”

Blaine groaned, burying his face in Sam’s chest, his laughter muffled against Sam’s shirt. “Oh my god, you’re impossible,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with affection.

Sam just grinned wider, his hands still resting firmly on Blaine. “Impossible or observant?” he teased, leaning down to press another kiss to Blaine’s lips before Blaine could argue.

The sound of the door creaking open made them both freeze, their eyes snapping to the doorway. Tina poked her head in, her eyes widening when she saw them. “Oh my god,” she blurted, quickly covering her eyes. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to—uh, carry on!”

She disappeared as quickly as she’d come, leaving Sam and Blaine staring at each other, their faces bright red. For a moment, neither of them said anything, the tension between them crackling like electricity.

Blaine let out a breathless laugh, resting his forehead against Sam’s. “Well… that’s one way to come out to the glee club.”

Sam grinned, his hand sliding to rest on Blaine’s waist. “Guess we don’t have to hide it anymore, huh?”

Blaine shook his head, his smile softening. “No. We don’t.”

Sam pressed one last kiss to Blaine’s lips, lingering just a little longer before pulling back. “Good,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Because I’m not hiding how I feel about you. Not anymore.”

Blaine’s heart raced at the words, his chest swelling with something that felt dangerously close to hope. For the first time in a long time, he let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—this could be something real. Something worth holding onto.

And as Sam laced their fingers together, his grip firm and steady, Blaine knew he wasn’t alone in feeling that way.