Chapter Text
Maybe Blaine should be disappointed about coming in third place at Nationals, and he thinks a piece of him is. But it's hard to be fully disappointed with the beautiful ring that Sam gave him sitting on his finger, and the memory of their names in the stars etched into his mind.
Finn seems convinced that it has to be because of the duet he and Sam shared.
Forget the fact that Finn himself flubbed the choreography in three different places. Forget that Tina was performing with food poisoning and was still a bit under the weather. Forget the tons of other small reasons that they could've come in third place, and the fact that Blaine and Sam were actually great in their duet.
Because they didn't come in first, it had to be Blaine and Sam's fault.
Okay, so maybe he's a little more bothered than he wants to let on, but for a completely different reason. Luckily, Finn is the only one who thinks that way. When even Rachel is satisfied, Blaine thinks that Finn is just being unreasonable. Everyone else is happy with what they did.
Well, except Tina, but Blaine doesn't think Tina is happy with much of anything right now. Especially not the sushi restaurant Mike took her to last night.
Sam looks a little more disappointed than Blaine feels as they put their bags into the trolley car to load them onto the shuttle bus to the airport. He was so sure going in that they'd come in first, but some group called Aural Intensity and—of all freaking teams—Vocal Adrenaline, ended up beating them.
Their annoyance at their third place finish only lasts as long as it takes them to find out that they have a few hours left to spend in the city before their shuttle bus leaves. Mr. Schuester's desperate attempt to get the group to stick together doesn't go well.
They all scatter and go their separate ways as soon as they get the meet-up time.
Blaine would have thought that Sam exhausted all his plans yesterday, but apparently he still has some tricks up his sleeve.
They walk through a different part of Boston as the sun starts its afternoon descent, and Sam seems to be vibrating with energy as they pass by Fenway Park. He knows it's not the baseball stadium that has Sam going. Sam likes baseball, but Blaine knows that it's one of those sports that he prefers playing to watching.
Blaine is proven right when they pass directly by Fenway Park and continue to the east.
They turn down another street, hand-in-hand, and the moment Sam sees the name of the street, his eyes shoot open. He smiles with his whole face, squeezes Blaine's hand, and points down the road.
"This way! We're almost there!" Sam declares, then takes off in a run down the street, tugging Blaine behind him.
If Blaine wasn't already interested in what has Sam so excited, seeing the pure enthusiasm radiating from him would be enough to do it. They run hand in hand down the busy Boston street, weaving through crowds, and Blaine watches Sam look at each of the buildings before he finally slows to a stop in front of a huge, sixteen story one.
When they come to a full stop, Sam turns Blaine's shoulders, stands beside him, and points at the building. "Here!" he announces. "This is it!"
Blaine blinks and turns from Sam to the building, searching for a sign to tell him what it is.
It doesn't take long, and when he finds it, he freezes.
"Berklee College of Music?" Blaine reads aloud.
"Yeah!" Sam replies, walking around Blaine and smiling with his whole face. "I looked it up, and it's like… awesome! The place focuses on music, and it has courses in songwriting and modern music and composition and songwriting! Songwriting, Bee!"
Blaine blinks and looks from Sam to the sign, then back to Sam. "I think… I think I've heard of this place," he admits. "There were a few people back at Dalton who said they wanted to go here to learn about ear training. That there was this course they did for high school kids."
Nodding excitedly again, Sam continues. "John Mayer graduated from here!" he tells Blaine. "And so did Melissa Etheridge and Steve Vai and a whole bunch of really talented composers and songwriters!"
It's Blaine's turn to nod. "Yeah, I think… I think Jeff mentioned that, too. He wanted me to go to the course with him, but I transferred to McKinley before they left," he muses with a quiet laugh. He meets Sam's gaze again, then glances back toward the building. "Why are we here?"
Sam's expression softens. He frowns, but lets out a quiet laugh. "And you tell me that I forget myself."
"Huh?"
Sliding their hands together and lacing their fingers, Sam leads Blaine to a bench on the sidewalk. They sit, facing the building, with their hands still entwined in their laps. He feels Sam's gaze on him.
"Bee," Sam starts. "Doesn't this place sound more like you than Juilliard?"
The comment takes Blaine off guard, and he turns quickly to look at Sam again. "Where is this coming from?"
With a quiet chuckle, Sam pushes some of Blaine's curls from his face. "The fact that I know you better than anyone in the world?" he points out. "I know we're only sophomores, but it's almost the end of the year, and then next year we'll be juniors, and the year after that we'll be seniors. I think… it's important to look into our options, don't you?"
Blaine puffs out a quiet laugh. "I guess so, yeah," he mutters.
"The truth is… Quinn mentioned something to me," Sam tells him. "How your mom and your brother are, like… pushing you to go to Juilliard because that's where Cooper went, right?"
Chuckling quietly, Blaine nods and looks down at their twined hands. "Yeah," he mutters. "And I don't mind that, not really. Juilliard is a great school, you know? Like the Harvard of the performing arts. Cooper says I'm pretty much a shoo-in, because he talked to the admissions board and mentioned his name, which is great and all. It was nice of him. But…"
Blaine trails off, casting his eyes away from Sam and up toward the Berklee building.
It would be a lie if Blaine tried to say he doesn't like performing. He does love the stage. Performing in plays, dancing, acting, it's all fun. He definitely enjoys taking on a part and becoming a well-known character. It's why he never really complained all that much when his mom and Cooper went on their tirades about how important Juilliard is for him.
At the same time… he doesn't know if he wants to go to the same school as Cooper, just because Cooper leveraged his name and promised them a 'Cooper Anderson level audition.'
He doesn't want to get into a college for being Cooper Anderson's brother. He doesn't want to be an Anderson.
As usual, it seems like Sam knows what he's thinking without even trying. "You don't know if you want to go to Juilliard?"
"I should want to," Blaine counters. "Like, what performer worth their weight in salt wouldn't want Juilliard? It's Juilliard. As long as I can manage a semi-coherent audition, I'm basically guaranteed a spot when I graduate."
Sam gently plays with the ring he gave Blaine, on Blaine's ring finger. The sensation of the twisting metal on his finger is grounding, almost like Sam knew he needed the tether. He disarms Blaine with that perfect, gorgeous smile and twists the ring some more, then brushes his thumb along Blaine's knuckles.
In a soothing voice, Sam asks, "But is it what you want?"
"I don't know," Blaine answers immediately, without even meaning to.
"I figured you didn't," Sam replies. "But Miss Pillsbury always says that it's okay not to know, right? That we're just sophomores, and even when we're seniors, it's okay not to know."
Blaine huffs and shrugs. "Yeah, I guess. But is it okay not to know when your mom and brother know for you?" he asks.
It's Sam's turn to huff. "I think… it's actually extra okay not to know when you don't get to do the knowing," he remarks like he doesn't know if it makes sense. He glances down at the pavement, then continues. "Like, it's okay to know, if you agree with them, but since you're not sure, maybe that means you don't know if you agree with them or not. Does that make sense, or does it sound dumb?"
"It makes sense to me," Blaine promises, then smiles softly. "It's okay not to know because the way things are now, it's not my choice. So maybe because it's not my choice, I should… keep my options open. Was that what you meant?"
Sam laughs quietly. "I can't believe you got that."
Smirking, Blaine replies, "I'm pretty fluent in Samese."
"And I'm fluent in Blainian," Sam counters with a chuckle. "Enough to know that just because you agree with me doesn't mean that you're gonna do it. But… will you promise me that you'll think about it?"
Blaine can't help but smile. He also knows that no matter what he says, he will think about it. "I promise."
A sheepish smile spreads across Sam's face as he looks down at the pavement. He pulls his phone from his pocket, scrolls through it, and opens up his map. He points at the screen, showing Blaine where they are on the map and then pointing a few streets down to the Boston School of the Arts.
"Also, I'm being a little selfish because there's an art school a couple blocks away. See?" Sam's cheeks darken, and he casts a sidelong glance at Blaine. "We could… we could like, live together out here, you know? Go to college in the same city, follow our dreams together, and…"
With a smirk of his own, Blaine finishes, "And we'd be together."
Sam nods. He stares at his phone display, fidgets their fingers together, then twists Blaine's ring nervously. "I know it's, like… stupid to expect you to want to go to a different school just because of me when your mom and your brother—"
"Hey," Blaine calls.
"Yeah?"
"If it comes down to a choice between you and my mom and brother, it'll always be you, Sammy," Blaine promises.
Sure, his mom has always tried to look out for him. He knows that everything she does it with his best interests in mind. But she's also the same woman who won't sign divorce papers with Blaine's homophobic father on the odd hope that he'll change. She's the same woman who doesn't know him enough to know that he has aspirations beyond the stage.
The same woman who lets Cooper's successes serve as a metric for Blaine's life. Who lets Cooper make Blaine feel inferior, or like he has to fit into a box to be successful.
She doesn't know him the way Sam does.
Sam would love him no matter what he did—no matter what he chose. Even if he decided to go to Juilliard and completely disregard the mention of Berklee, Sam would still love him. He turns to Sam with a soft smile and brushes his hair from his face.
"I'll think about it," he promises. "Especially if it means you're thinking about going to school for art. Since your dad got you some better art stuff, we should see about entering you into some contests next school year. There's this one called the Youth Excellence Arts Awards, and… we could both enter it. There's a category for songwriting, and one for painting. Or even drawing if you wanted to go that route."
A genuine, bright smile spreads across Sam's face. "Yeah?"
Blaine nods. "Yeah!" he replies. "I was actually looking into this year's competition with the plan to give it to you, but I think it's actually something we can work on together. Maybe… maybe we could collaborate on something? Enter with a song and an art piece—"
The way Sam perks makes Blaine's heart feel like it's about to overflow. "Yeah!" he agrees, speaking excitably at a mile a minute now that the concept has taken him. "Maybe I could paint something and you could write a song about it, or you could write something and I could paint how it makes me feel or, like… we could even sit in a room together and just throw some paint and some words around and see what happens!"
Sam bounces up and down on the bench like an excited kid, and Blaine can't help but smile. Seeing him so happy after so much time spent drowning in a sea of other people's needs is the best thing Blaine has ever seen.
"I like the idea of us creating in a room together," Blaine agrees with a smirk as he turns to look back at the Berklee building.
With an excited nod, Sam agrees, "Me too!"
And Blaine really likes the idea of them going to college in the same city. Even if they're not in the same apartment, they could sneak into each other's dorms. They could go to parties together, or just spend their time walking around Boston together.
They could just… be together.
Wherever they are, it honestly doesn't matter, as long as they're together.
Blaine looks from Sam's happy, smiling face, down to their promise rings. Whatever happens from here on, Blaine doesn't care. Art, music, basketball, Cheerios… they're all important, sure. They're all parts of what make Blaine and Sam who they are. But right now, with Sam beside him, it all feels insignificant.
He turns his eyes back to Sam, and they share a smile.
The only thing in the whole world that matters to Blaine is Sam's happiness, and he's sure that as long as they're together like this, side by side, that happiness will stick around.
They were written in the stars, after all.