Archive of Our Own

He didn't know how or exactly when it happened. Maybe it was foolish of Blaine for even considering the idea. Letting it grow into a full blown thing , that was a whole other level of delusion and probable stupidity. For a long while, all the joy had been sucked out of his life. Then one day, it came parading back in- followed by a dumb blonde and a smile that made Blaine feel warm.

It'd been stewing around in his mind on a loop the entire weekend. A stupid interaction on Friday in the cafeteria. They'd run out of tots by the time Blaine had gotten to the serving counter. He'd joined their group at their usual lunch table, mildly sulky about it.

"What's wrong, Blaine? Did you mix your red polos with your white button downs again?" Tina had asked.

"They're out of tots. It's not a big deal.” He pulled out a chair, sitting.

"Oh, here man. Take some of mine." Sam picked up a tot from his cardboard tray and threw it across the table in Blaine's direction. Sam was probably aiming for his mouth, but it ended up hitting the spot under Blaine's eye before falling into his lap. "Oh. Sorry."

It was stupid indeed. Fryer grease was definitely soaking into the fly of his ankle-length jeggings, but instead of moving to brush the tot away, Blaine smiled. Because it was just so... dumb and so sweet. So Sam.

"Uh, thanks Sam," he'd said. Sam had given him a wide smile back, mouth full of half-chewed tots. Tina reached across the table to smack him on the arm, telling him how gross he looked. His chest shook with laughter as he closed his mouth, a satisfied look in his eyes.

It was obviously nothing. Something to get a reaction out of Tina. She was right, it was gross. Blaine couldn't help but also find it adorable.

Now it was Monday. The colder months were approaching fast. Soon Blaine would have to think about Christmas gifts and decorations and what Frank Sinatra holiday song he was going to play while he sat alone in the days post-Boxing Day, trying not to think too much about anything at all. It was always bad to have time to use your brain during the holidays, and boy would he have a lot to think about.

At the moment, though, the biggest thing coming up was Halloween. Usually, he'd have had his costume picked out by now- months in advance, if possible. But it was another couple's costume with Kurt- Will and Grace from the TV show of the same name.

Since he and Kurt were no longer a couple... Well, he had had to scrap that idea.

"Dude," he heard from behind him. Blaine turned away from his open locker to see Sam standing behind him, as most Monday mornings began. As most weekday mornings began. "So you know Halloween's coming up."

"Yep. Two weeks, Sam. What about it?" So maybe Blaine wasn't exactly looking forward to the occasion.

"I need a costume. Well- I think I've got one, but I don't want to do it alone." 

"If it's the Blonde Chameleon, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. Although I wouldn't say it's exactly the most original idea, considering we already see him Thursdays after school." Blaine grabbed his first period notebook.

"Hold on," Sam said, getting out his phone from his back pocket. "I tried it on on Saturday, but I couldn't get any opinions so..." He trailed off as he looked through a folder on his phone. Then, finally, he held it up, screen facing Blaine’s direction. It was a shot of Sam in a bathroom mirror, wearing a white sheet. Or, wait- a toga costume. Just past the camera glare you could see a gold leafed headband blending in with Sam’s hair.

The toga was rather... short. Visible was also half of Sam’s left nipple. Blaine swallowed. "Well I mean, it's certainly a look ."

"See, exactly.” Sam put the phone back in his pocket. "Everyone's gonna' have that reaction, or worse if I just wear it myself. So I was thinking..." He gave Blaine a conspiratorial look, eyebrows raised a little.

"Oh, no," Blaine said. "I can't pull off that costume, Sam. It's so... you, in the frat bro-ish type of way. In the perfect way!" That had sounded both less awkward and less offending in his head. Sam's face dropped in disappointment. He turned to start walking down the hall.

Blaine slammed his locker closed, walking beside him. "Okay, look. I've got nothing to do tomorrow afternoon, how about we go and see what other costumes are out there." Sam still had that look on his face. The sad, pouty puppy look that made his lips curl out. His lips. Damn them.

"If we don't find anything we both agree on... I'll wear a toga with you," he sighed.

The turnaround time for Sam's facial expressions was impressive. A grin broke out across his face, blue eyes bright and excited. He fist pumped, mumbling a 'yes' under his breath. The bell rang just as he started to walk away backwards, still facing Blaine. 

"Our costumes are gonna' rock, Anderson!"

Blaine let out a small huff as he watched Sam disappear into a classroom. Halloween was seemingly winding up to be a whole other experience, if he couldn't get Sam to agree on something less... toga-y.

But he had to get his mind off of the costumes, and Sam’s legs, and the half of his nipple, because his afternoon was filled with a busy self-appointed schedule. He had music to make. Or, well, attempt to make. So far, ever since Blaine had gotten home he’d just stared at the keyboard that sat in the corner of his bedroom.

It was weird. His mind had let up a little on the constant loop of “You’re a horrible person,” but still wouldn’t let him do the thing he truly loved. It was like with the break up had come a cloud of grey, settling over a part of his brain with no intention of clearing anytime soon. 

There was a catalog of top fourty rolling around behind his eyes, and none of it felt inspiring. ‘Teenage Dream’ was absolutely off the table, perhaps certainly forever. Maybe Katy Perry as a whole. Pop songs… See? This was his problem. One song turned into an artist’s whole discography, which turned into a whole genre. It just seemed like his brain was eating away at everything until there was nothing left. Until there was nothing Blaine wanted to do but lay in bed and stare blankly at the ceiling.

At this point, that would have been exactly what Blaine would have done. Had it not been for a phone call. He felt his cell buzz in his pocket, glancing at it to see who was calling.

“Hey, Tina. What’s up?” he asked, lifting the device to his ear.

“So Sam’s costume is definitely too small right?” she asked in place of a hello.

“Uh. Well, sure. He showed you the picture, right?”

“Yeah. My first thought was that it belonged in some weird, low rent Greek inspired edition of Playgirl,” Tina said.

“Or a frat house Halloween party,” Blaine said. Tina laughed a little on the other end.

“Yes, or a frat house Halloween party.” Silence for a beat. “Should we tell him?”

“I don’t know. I mean, he seems really excited about it. It’s just one night. On the other hand, it may be a night of major regret,” he said.

“I’m kind of looking forward to twin toga Blam, if I’m being honest,” Tina said.

“Twin toga what?” 

“Blam. Blaine and Sam, it’s like… a combination of your names.”

Blaine hummed in acknowledgement. “Well, I’ll definitely take your excitement into heavy consideration tomorrow when we go shopping.”

“You’re going shopping? And you didn’t invite me?” Tina asked.

“You can come if you want, but I feel like it’ll just be a lot of Sam flexing in different trademarked superhero costumes beside me.” Saying the words aloud, he kind of hoped Tina wouldn’t tag along.

“As tempting as that sounds, I have a stack ton of homework. Plus, I promised I’d help Unique and Marley with this number they’re working on after school.”  There was a rustling sound, as if Tina was sitting up. “Oh, have you come up with anything for Finn’s lesson this week?”

The lesson of the week was inspiration. “What or who inspires you in your day to day life? Where do you see yourself in five years, or where do you want to be?” per Finn’s exact words.

“Nothing yet,” Blaine said. He tried his best to mask the tone of defeat in his voice. “You?”
“I was thinking something Beyoncé. You know, boss bitch who takes nothing from nobody, has her own growing empire, etcetera,” Tina said.

“You see yourself as Beyoncé in five years?”

“Let a girl dream, would you?” she asked. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” he said. Tina hung up. Blaine put his phone down beside him. At least his mind was taken off of music for a while. He just got to imagine what Sam would look like flexing in a Superman costume until the image would be revealed to him tomorrow.

He wasn’t sure if that was exactly a win, or a lose.

The next day was torture. By fourth period, Blaine couldn't help but ignore his calculus teacher in favour of staring at the clock above his head.

"Blaine," someone whispered. They repeated themselves, bumping his shoulder. "Blaine?" Tina sat at the desk behind him, face twisted up in that tense way. She nodded up to Mr. McCarthy, who was waiting up by the chalk board with a question written out.

"Mr. Anderson, would you mind coming to answer this question for the class? Or are we interrupting your schedule?"

"Of course, Mr. McCarthy," he said quietly, getting out of his chair.

When the bell finally rang, Blaine was one of the first out the door. "Hey, wait up!" he heard from behind him. Tina came rushing up to him in the hall, binder clutched to her chest. "What's going on with you, Blaine? It's like you're on a different planet today."

"It's nothing. My thoughts are just occupied, I guess," he said.

"By what?" she asked. It was more of a who. Sam Evans, specifically, and all of the anxiety that he brought with him.

Like he could sense he was being thought of, Sam appeared at the end of the hall, spotting the pair. He made his way towards them. "I'll tell you later.”

"Tina,” Sam nodded, greeting her. “You ready to leave after school, Blaine?” he asked, turning to the boy next to her.

“Uh- yeah. Sure.”

“I'm excited to see what Blamoween will look like," Tina said.

"Blamoween…?" Sam asked. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"I'll explain later," he said.

The bell rang, the halls starting to empty as people made their way to their next and final classes of the day.

"Alright, meet me by my car. Later," Sam said, patting Blaine's shoulder as he quickly passed him. Blaine stood frozen for a moment, then glanced at his shoulder. Tina was staring at him.

"We're going to be late," she said. She couldn't hide the curiosity in her tone.

"Right,” he said, shaking his head a little.

English had a surprising amount of notes on Shakespeare’s dramatic irony, but pretty much breezed by. The bell rang, and Blaine headed straight towards his locker. Over the last couple of months, it's interior had taken a lot of remodeling.

No longer were there several pictures of him and Kurt stuck around, but only one small photo of prom night in the back corner, mostly hidden by shadows. A photo of Blaine, Tina and Sam making silly faces at the camera took the forefront on the back of the locker door. Another photo of Sam and Blaine smiling in the music room overlapped it at the corner.

One thing that you could count on at McKinley was the halls clearing pretty much immediately after the last bell rang. Stragglers made their way to their cars or the sidewalk as Blaine navigated his way through the student parking lot. He rounded a corner, and spotted Sam.

It felt like that part in the movie when the girl walked out of the building to see the dreamboat waiting for her in his amazing sports car. Except it was Blaine, a teenage boy walking out of a crummy high school to see another teenage boy in his mom's Honda, waiting to take him to a pop-up Halloween store.

"Ready to go?" Sam asked, sitting behind the wheel.

"Yep, let's go," Blaine said, settling in the front passenger's seat. He threw his bag in the back, looking away as it landed next to Sam’s.

They pulled out of the emptying parking lot, making a left down the street. Sam, apparently, liked to sing in the car. The radio had turned on once he put the keys in the ignition, and he’d been singing along under his breath. He got louder as the car sat idle. It must have been an oldies station or a country station- or both, knowing him.

"Don't try to cry your way out of this, don't try to lie or I'll catch you in it. Don't try to make me feel sorry for you. Just because I'm blonde don't think I'm dumb, 'cause this dumb blonde ain't nobody's fool-"

"Is this… Dolly Parton?" Blaine asked.

Sam turned the radio down a bit. "Yeah. My mom, she really loves her. Used to sing this all the time," he said. A small smile spread across Sam's face as the car stopped at a light, his eyes still on the road. It made Blaine smile.

"Please tell me you've secretly known her entire discography this entire time and have never told anyone," Blaine said, laughing. He had meant it as a joke, but it seemed as though Sam was actually thinking it over.

"Maybe half? I think my mom was more into her older stuff," he said. Blaine nodded. "What about you?"

"Do I know any Dolly?"

"Any songs your parents used to sing,”

"My mom was really into eighties pop ballads.”

The light turned green, but not before Sam gave Blaine an expectant look. He turned the radio dial, cutting off the ending notes of the Dolly song. A different beat played through the cars speakers- faster, with some sort of string instrument. Blaine clearly recognized it, because Sam gave him another look.

"Fine," Blaine said, then cleared his throat. "Come on, Eileen, oh I swear-”

"What he means," Sam interjected. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel, paying more attention to the music than the road. This had to be dangerous. Blaine’s heart felt like it was flying.

"At this moment, you mean everything. You in that dress, my thoughts-"

"I confess."

"Verge on dirty," Blaine sang, grinning like an idiot, "Ah come on, Eileen!”

The song continued, but Blaine stopped singing. “That’s all your gonna' give me?” Sam asked sarcastically.

“That’s all I’m going to give you,” he confirmed.

“Well it was really good, for what it’s worth.”

It took a minute for the words to really make their impact. He’d called Blaine good. “Thanks,” Blaine said.

“Of course. You should sing it for glee club,” he suggested.

“So what you’re saying is, in five years you imagine me crudely trying to romance someone.”

“Maybe not for this week.” Sam was quiet for a moment, before he said, “I noticed you don’t sing as much anymore. Which I mean, everyone else is great too. But ever since-” He cut himself off.

“You’re the new Rachel according to Artie. You and I both know Rachel sang a crap ton. I guess I just miss hearing you,” Sam awkwardly finished. At the same time, he was pulling into a spot in front of the Halloween store.

Blaine swallowed his lips for a moment, the music from the radio seeming to fade out of existence as something stirred a little in his chest. Sam raised his eyebrows as a reaction to Blaine; a silent, teasing prompt that made Blaine want to lean across the car’s stick shift and pull him close for a kiss. But of course, he wouldn’t do that. Because Sam was straight and that would be super weird and they were right in front of a Halloween store in Lima, Ohio. Because.

The moment was over. The radio returned, like flicking a switch that pulled Blaine back to reality. The sun was in his eyes as he looked away, out the windshield at the cream coloured building with a giant inflatable pumpkin on it’s roof, tucked away in a depressingly small shopping plaza.

“Let’s get our spook on!” Sam cheered. He reached for his car door. The breeze rushed in as he got out, blowing away Blaine’s thoughts as he too got out of the car.

Their doors slammed in unison as the boys stepped up on the plaza’s sidewalk and approached the front of the Halloween store. Sam held the door open for Blaine. Looking around as they walked in, they could both see the creepily detailed and absolutely huge prop spider on the ceiling inside of the building. “Jeez… That thing’s gotta’ be bigger than Bigfoot,” Sam said.

“Definitely,” Blaine said absently. He was staring at a tall skeleton’s jack-o-lantern head, its spindly arms reaching out for him. “Some of these things are definitely terrifying.” He turned back to where Sam was standing just behind him moments ago, to see him gone. “Sam?”

“Yeah?” Sam popped up to his left wearing a latex clown mask on his head.

“I absolutely hate that,” Blaine said.

“Aw, c’mon man. Don’t tell me you’re scared of a silly clown,” Sam said, following him into an aisle of vampire costumes.

“I’m not… scared,” Blaine said, gluing his eyes to a men’s gothic vampire cape. “They’re just weird. You can’t see their faces. It’s weird.”

“Well if we run into any clowns on Halloween, I’ll protect you.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Blaine said. “Now can you please take the mask off, it’s scaring the crap out of me.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” He tugged it off, hair messy and in all directions. Cute was the first thought that sprung to Blaine’s mind.

In the end, they ended up with two alternative options: matching sailors’ uniforms, and cowboys.

“Here goes,” Sam said from the dressing room. Truthfully, the dressing room was a series of metal poles and long, drapy black curtains fashioned into multiple little spaces with warped, plastic mirrors. Just looking at it, you could tell if one thing went out of place the whole thing would fall.

There was a bit of shuffling from behind Sam’s curtain, which slid to the side moments later. He stood, arms out, a very pleased grin on his face. Blaine had to admit, Sam looked pretty amazing. But he wouldn’t say it aloud, because he didn’t want Sam to be too pleased with himself.

“Whaddaya’ think?” he asked in an indiscernible but definitely old-timey accent.

“You look great, man.” It sounded painful even to Blaine’s own ears.

“Thanks,” Sam said. “Alright, now you have to try on the cowboy costume.” He walked forward, handing Blaine a plastic bag with a model wearing the costume on the front.

“I don't know about this,” Blaine said minutes later.

“It’s gonna' be great, c’mon.”

Despite Sam’s words, Blaine couldn’t help looking at himself in the mirror and judging. His hips stuck out a little too much here, his legs were too short there, the vest looked too tight around his chest.

“If you don’t come out, I’m coming in,” Sam eventually threatened.

Stepping out, Blaine immediately looked around the store, which was fairly empty. He still worried. Then his eyes met with Sam’s.

“ Dude ,” was all he said. His eyes trailed Blaine up and down.

“So?”

“I mean- I think this is it. You look… You look stunning. Like you stepped straight out of a Western or something.” Then he cocked his head to the side. “Minus the hair maybe.”

Blaine felt his face heat up at his words. “Um… thanks, I guess. Yeah.”

So he wouldn’t be wearing a toga on Halloween, but instead a spaghetti western cowboy costume that Sam thought he looked stunning in. What teenage boy used the word stunning, especially when referring to another teenage boy? Blaine didn’t know. But it made him feel good just thinking about it, repeating the moment in his head over and over again as he headed back into the dressing room of curtains to change back into his clothes.

They split the cost of both costumes- which is the grossly expensive total of about fifty dollars and change- and then they were back in Sam’s car, Halloween store plastic bags with little smiling pumpkins on them next to their school bags.

It was still only four o’clock, and Blaine wasn’t rushing home. “You got anything else you need to do?” he asked.

“No, why?”

Blaine narrowed his eyes, thinking. Then he looked up at Sam and said, “You want to get some ice cream?”

He made Sam drive an extra eight miles from the usual soft serve place to a small food truck on the outskirts of town called Pirate Eyed Pete’s. 

“It’ll be worth it, trust me,” Blaine said.

Standing in ankle-length grass, they stood before a rusting can on wheels, looking at the semi-legible menu. “Dude, what are we doing here. I’m pretty sure no one’s here to serve us.”

“Just wait a minute, okay? I’m sure he’s just in the bathroom.” Sure enough, a few minutes later a short, stocky man exited the sea green porta-potty across the road. When he spotted the pair, he raised his arms, letting out a hearty laugh carried away by the wind.

“Blaine, my man. You return once again,” said the man, disappearing behind the food truck. A door in desperate need of WD-40 swung open, letting a little light into the truck before he swung it closed.

“Hey, Pete. How’ve you been?” Blaine asked.

“You know, the usual. The wife’s been asking after ya’, so now I can give her some word,” Pete said. Sam watched the interaction, curious, staying silent. “Where’ve ya’ been? Traveling the world, I hope.”

Blaine seemed to freeze up, like he needed some door grease. “Here, actually. And New York a little bit, but that’s over now, so…” he trailed off. It looked like he was falling down a rabbit hole as he locked eyes with the dirt. Then Blaine raised his head quickly, as if remembering something. “God, I didn’t even introduce you to my friend. Pirate Pete, meet Sam Evans.”

Pete held a hand out from the food truck’s window, which Sam reached up and shook. “Alright then,” Pete said. “What can I get you two fine young men this afternoon?”

“How about two swirl, vanilla dipped,” Blaine said. Pete nodded.

“Coming right up!” He turned away from them to an ice cream machine inside. Blaine looked at Sam.

“Do you come here often?” Sam asked.

Blaine leaned against the truck’s metal wall. “Sometimes. I used to a lot, before I transferred to Dalton. It was just a nice place to come and think, y’know. The ice cream’s good, the company respectable.”

Sam chuckled at that. “He seems like an interesting character.”

“Pete’s pretty cool, actually. He knows about the whole me being gay thing, and he’s super supportive. Tried to set me up with his son before he moved to go to CalTech, before...”

“Did you ever come here with Kurt?” Blaine supposed Sam had to ask, but it still made his stomach tie up in knots.

“No, actually. Surprisingly. I did think about it, but. I never got around to it, while we were both still here.” Then he said, “I guess that makes you the first.” Blaine was as surprised at the realization as Sam looked, at least for a moment.

“Gentlemen,” Pete’s voice rumbled from above them. “Your ice cream.” He held out two cones, chocolate and vanilla ice cream swirled inside, covered in hard white lacquer-looking stuff.

Blaine took both of them, handing one to Sam. Then he reached into his back pocket, handing Pete a ten dollar bill. “Thanks man,” he said.

“Not a problem. Don’t make yourself scarce, alright? It gets lonely out here for an old man.”

Blaine sat first at the picnic table a little ways away from Pirate Eyed Pete’s. Sam sat across from him, paying most of his attention to his ice cream. Everything about him right now was distracting: the lips, the eyes, the hair. Sam Evans in a field of green grass with the sun shining was definitely how he was supposed to be observed at all times, Blaine decided. It was another thing to add to the list of things that were So Sam.

“I think I might know what I’ll sing for glee club this week,” he said randomly. That snapped Blaine out of his daze.

“Yeah? What is it?” He quickly licked the melting ice cream that was trailing to his wrist.

“I was thinking “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” The U2 song,” he said.

“That’d be a good song for Regionals or something. Maybe you could get a solo,” Blaine offered.

“What about a duet?” Sam countered.

“You got someone in my mind?” Blaine took another bite of his ice cream.

“Yeah. You.”

Blaine paused. “Really?” he asked.

“Of course. I was gonna' ask you when we were at the store, but...”

“Yes. That’d be awesome.” He wanted to cringe at his own words, but the excitement took over. A duet. With Sam. Because Sam had thought of him. Because…

“You’re right,” Sam said out of the blue. “This totally was worth it.” And he knew Sam was talking about the ice cream, Blaine did. But some part of him wanted to lean into his concocted fantasy, that seemed to only be enriched further as he spent more time with Sam. And so he did, just a little.

First and second period Wednesday were the same as usual, Blaine catching little glimpses of Sam in the halls before disappearing around corners or surrounded by old swim team friends. He hadn’t had enough time to actually talk to him yet, though. Finally, the lunch bell rang.

Student council gathered in the Titans Room at lunch, which was just a fancy name for a rec room that students liked to sneak into and have sex. Blaine always made sure to use hand sanitizer after every meeting.

“So, as president I now call this meeting to order. Tina, what’s on the agenda today?” he asked, sitting down next to her.

“Well, some students have suggested having a Halloween dance,” she said, glancing at a paper.

“I think as a council we can all agree that Halloween is way too close to start organizing a dance now,” Lauren said.

“Agreed,” Blaine said. The others nodded. He looked around, noticing Sam absent. “Uh- where’s our vice-president?”

The question was answered itself by a hurried Sam bursting through the door. His backpack was on backwards, resting on his chest as he stuffed the papers that were sticking out of it back inside. “Sorry I’m late. I had a math test,” he said, out of breath.

Blaine’s mood lightened as the blonde boy sat down in his chair across from him. “Not a problem. We were just discussing whether or not to have a Halloween dance.”

“I think everyone would wanna’ spend the night at a house party than at school,” Sam said bluntly. He put his bag under the table next to his leg.

“That settles it then,” Blaine said.

“But-” it was Lauren again. “I do think we should have dance. Soon.”

“Ooh, I know! How about Sadie Hawkins, next month?” Tina asked.

It felt like someone had shoved a vacuum down Blaine’s throat and sucked all the air out of his lungs. 

“That’s a great idea!” Sugar said. Tina nodded, writing it down in her notebook and underlining it in red pen, but Blaine couldn’t focus on any of it. His brain was out, failing to float on the ocean.

“How about,” Sam’s voice cut through all the noise. “We put it up to a vote.” Blaine looked up at him, their eyes meeting.

Tina’s face soured a little. “Fine,” she said. “Everyone for a Sadie Hawkins dance in November, say I.” The room filled with the voices of Sugar, Tina and Lauren in unison. Blaine kept staring across the table, and Sam stared back.

“The I’s have it,” Lauren announced pointedly.

Sam dismissed the group. Blaine got up too quickly, plastic chair flying back behind them and clattering into a spare table and drawing some attention. He didn’t want to be there anymore, in this class, this school, on this planet. The back of his neck felt warm as he loaded his things into his bag, zipping it up.

Everyone was trickling out slowly, starting and ending brief conversations about other school events, their excitement for the dance. Sam crossed the room towards Blaine, ready for one of his own.

“Sorry about that, man,” he said.

“About what?”

“You did not look like you were down to plan a dance,” Sam said.

Crap. “Oh I- I just don’t want us to turn into one of those councils who only plan dances and pat themselves on the back for it, y’know? I want to-”

“Make a difference.” Sam looked at him, his lips moving as if he had something else to say. Whatever it was died on his tongue. “Yeah, I get it.”

Blaine nodded, headed towards the door. Sam followed. “But,” he continued, “Since this thing is happening, whether we like it or not, I promise to try and make it the best Sadie Hawkins experience for the both of us.”

We. Like they were on the same team, them against the world- or at least against the rest of McKinley High Student Council. Blaine really liked the sound of that.

“I think the whole point of Sadie Hawkins, Sam, is that we don’t get to decide how the experience goes.” He could see it now: Sam getting asked by a hot girl to the dance, him graciously accepting, and Blaine toddling along as an awkwardly homo third wheel. He hated it. “I think I’ll skip out on this one.”

Sam made a face, somewhere between shock and horror. “Dude, no. This is our senior year. We’re student council president and vice president. We have to go. It’s like, a rite of passage. The high school experience.”

What Blaine didn’t say was that it was the exact experience he didn’t want.

“You ready to make this awesome?” Sam asked as he crossed the threshold into the music room. Blaine had been sitting at the piano, waiting for him, a million thoughts swimming around in his mind. His arrival pushed them all away, Sam at the forefront.

Blaine smiled. “Totally,” he said. “I found some Dolly online last night, printed it out in the library.”

“We have a library?”

Blaine let out a wheezing laugh, shaking his head. “Never mind.” He stood, handing Sam the sheet music.

“‘Here You Come Again’,” Sam read aloud.

So maybe Blaine had been projecting a little bit in his song selection. But it had piano and guitar, which was perfect.

“What do you think?” Blaine asked.

“It’s great, man. It’s got piano, and guitar…” Sam nodded towards the black behemoth he had just been sat at. “Maybe we should just work on it… for ourselves?”

Blaine had to process the words for a moment. “What?”

“I mean, I think we should option this for Regionals, man. I’m sure Finn will understand- U2 can wait.”

“Alright then.” Blaine sat back down, positioning the music in front of him. He pressed his fingers down on the keys, starting with a solid G flat.

“Here you come again,” he started. "Just when I've begun to get myself together, you waltz right in the door just like you've done before, and wrap my heart 'round your little finger.”

Blaine saw Sam circling the piano, eventually stopping in front of it, across from him.

“Here you come again, just when I’m about to make it work without you, ” Sam cut in. “ You look into my eyes and lie those pretty lies, and pretty soon I’m wondering how I came to doubt you."

“All you gotta do is smile that smile, and there go all my defenses. Just leave it up to you and in a little while you're messin’ up my mind and filling up my senses!” Blaine sang.

“Here you come again lookin' better than a body has a right to, and shakin' me up so that all I really know is here you come again, and here I go.” Blaine could of sworn Sam’s eyes darted up and down his upper body for a moment… or maybe he was blinking.

He stopped playing, leaving off where the guitar would take over in a solo. “So?”

“Blaine, we’re going to crush this!” Sam said. He walked over to Blaine, still sitting at the piano, and patted him on the back a little too harsh.

“I’m really glad you like it,” Blaine said, looking into his eyes.

“Dude! You could pick Rick Astley and I’d still love it.” They stared at each other for a moment, holding eye contact for too long. Sam looked away first.

“I’m gonna' go see what Artie’s up to,” he said. Then he nodded, more to himself than to Blaine. “I’ll catch you later, alright? But- great stuff.” He gave a wave in the door, sheet music in hand. Blaine watched him leave. 

When Sam was out of sight, he turned back to the piano. He played the song again, softer this time.

“Here you come again,” he let out softly, barely a tune. “And here I go.”

“Sounds pretty thoughtful,” someone said. It was Tina, standing in the leftward doorway, opposite the one Sam had exited.

“Tina, you can’t sneak up on people like that,” Blaine said.

“You were singing. It was sweet,” she said. Blaine let a grin leak onto his face. “It sounded sad.” Tina walked further into the room, sitting down on the piano bench with him. Blaine watched her silently.

“What’s wrong, Blaine?” she asked. Her eyes caught on the sheet music.

“I would say there’s nothing wrong, but you already know that’s a lie,” he started. Was he really about to tell her? Blaine wasn’t even sure he’d said it out loud yet, and now he was jumping straight to telling Tina. “I like someone.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“But he’s straight, and I’m not some predatory gay and nothing’s going to happen-”

“Who is it, Blaine?” Tina asked, voice soft.

He let out a sigh along with his words, like a helium balloon deflating. “It’s Sam,” Blaine said.

The words hung in the air for a moment before she did anything. Tina scooted closer to him, wrapping her arm comfortingly around his shoulders. “Oh, Blaineydays…” was all she said. But he knew exactly what she meant. 

Oh Blaineydays, you set your hopes too high. Oh Blaine, your heart is going to get broken. He knew that. He knew it well. The ugly truth was always there, right behind his eyes- whether or not Sam was there, too.

Blaine rested his gelled head on her shoulder, the polyester fabric of her dress smooth against his cheek.

“I know,” he said quietly.

Friday. One week since the tots incident. When it finally came around, Blaine was grateful. Thursday had been spent burying himself in schoolwork to avoid Sam, ditching the Secret Society of Superheroes Club altogether when the bell rang at the end of the day.

“You can’t sulk for the rest of your life,” Tina said, walking with him to the caf. Blaine opened his mouth to object, but she continued. “So, it’s a crush. You’ll get over it, right? I read online that crushes only last about three or four months.”

“Months?” Blaine asked. Tina nodded. He shook his head. Then a thought crept into it. “What if it lasts longer than that?”

“Well, then…” She shrugged, but they both knew what she was saying. Then it wasn’t a crush anymore- not simply hormone-induced infatuation. It was something else.

“I’m not going to worry about it,” Blaine said, more an affirmation for himself than anything else. “You’re right. It’s just a crush. It is what it is.”

Tina smiled beside him, pushing open the cafeteria door. Artie was sitting with Sugar at their usual table. He spotted Blaine and Tina, waving them over.

“Hey guys,” Blaine said, demeanor changing on a dime.

“‘Sup?” Artie asked casually. “Oh yeah, Blaine, Sam’s been looking for you-”

“Blaine, hey,” Sam said. He appeared behind him, touching his shoulder. It made Blaine flinch just a little.

He looked quickly from Sam to Tina, who was standing awkwardly amid the scene. “Uh, Sugar,” she said. Sugar perked up. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about the dance.” Sugar, Artie and Tina got wrapped up in Sadie Hawkins discussion as Sam walked towards the cafeteria line, Blaine following. He and Tina looked back at the same time. She gave him a subtle thumbs up.

Sam got in line, grabbing a plastic tray and putting it on the line. “Where were you yesterday? I had to dismiss the Secret Society of Superheroes early because our leader wasn’t there. You’re our leader, man. You’re Nightbird.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Blaine said. He set his own plastic tray down, walking slowly behind Sam as the line moved. “I just had some stuff on my mind. I was with Tina.”

Those weren’t lies, exactly. Blaine did have a lot on his mind, and for about a half hour after school he was sitting in the music room, just talking with Tina. The phrase just completely lacked important context.

“You guys hung out without me?” Sam asked. He stopped, looking at Blaine. He looked almost hurt, but it was quickly consumed by irritation. “Whatever. Just- get your stuff together, okay? The Society needs a strong leader to fight injustice at McKinley.”

“Got it.” Blaine gave him a tight smile. Sam looked straight ahead at the lunch lady, pointing through the glass at the diminishing supply of tots. When it was Blaine’s turn, he asked for the same thing. The last scoop of them went onto his plate. The rest of the line behind him audibly groaned.

Blaine grabbed a juice box before paying, trying to catch up with Sam, who was already walking back to the lunch table. He noticed when Sam sat further away from him, leaving the seat empty across from Blaine in favour for the one no one ever sat in, squished between Tina and Artie. The others noticed it too, an awkward shift taking place in the conversation.

Blaine picked at his tater tots, throwing in a sentence here and there. They were talking about dance themes.

“We could do black and white,” Tina said.

“You know that a Decades dance would be dope though,” said Artie.

“What about Winter Wonderland?” Sugar asked. That caught attention. “By the time the dance actually happens, there’s got to be some snow on the ground, right? Winter Wonderland fits as a perfectly non-denominational winter theme that doesn’t leave anybody out. So?”

“Sugar, you’re a genius,” Tina said. She turned to Blaine. “What do you think?”

“Sounds great,” Blaine said weakly. All the decision did was make his visions of that night more detailed- Sam dancing with a girl, now surrounded by fake cotton snow and paper craft snowflakes dangling from the ceiling.

“We could get little icicle lights or something,” Sam pitched. He stuffed a tot into his mouth.

“If Rachel were here she’d be adamant on finding the perfect evergreen,” Tina said. All eyes seemed to be on Blaine then. He could feel them.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

“Count me in,” Sam said. Blaine looked at him, confused. Wasn’t he just wringing him out for bailing on a club? Maybe he wanted to make sure Blaine actually got around to doing it. Sam already knew he wasn’t thrilled about all of this. “I can ask to borrow Burt’s truck, we can go someday after school.”

Blaine caught Tina looking back and forth between the two of them. He reached his leg out, kicking her lightly. She swallowed a yelp.

“Great,” she said, side-eyeing him. “We can talk about the rest of the decor next week, but Sugar- can you talk with your dad about finding fake snow?”

“Not a problem,” Sugar said. “He definitely knows a guy.”

Chatter carried on from there, the usual ebb and flow of lunch hour. Blaine wasn’t really participating, his attention going into trying to stem the stream of thoughts of Sam dancing with someone else, touching someone else, kissing someone else out of his mind. He was trying to rid himself of all thoughts of Sam, really. Until something hit him in the forehead.

Blaine looked up to see Sam smiling between Artie’s wheelchair and Tina’s backpack. He looked down to see a tot, not on his pants but in the glob of questionably chunky ketchup on his plate he hadn’t yet touched. Raising a hand to his face, he felt a little grease on his skin, wiping it away.

Sam was still smiling when Blaine looked at him again. The others didn’t bat an eye, ignoring the two. Déja vu to the previous tot incident. Blaine didn’t think when he picked the tater tot out from the ketchup and threw it back at him.

Sam opened his mouth wide, catching it on his tongue. Sugar clapped, Artie and Tina laughing.

Alright. Blaine could do this. Sam was right. It was senior year. Pretty much everything was a rite of passage, ones he was meant to enjoy. He would, if he could do this.

If he could ignore that weird ache in his chest. Sing songs, dress like a superhero, plan dances. Rinse, repeat. He could do this.

“I can’t do this,” Blaine said.

Halloween. Wednesday, October 31st. He stood behind the gym stage curtain, fully clad in his gunslinger costume- hat, boots and all. Tina and Sam awaited him on the other side.

“You can totally do this,” Tina said.

“We had a deal, man.” Sam was right- they did. On Monday, they’d all decided to wear their costumes to school- something none of them had probably done since they were eleven. Blaine figured there had been weirder things to go on at McKinley. He knew for a fact there had been.

This was different. At the Halloween store, it had just been Sam seeing it. Looking down at himself, he saw all the same things wrong as he’d seen in the mirror, amplified by about a million.

“You already know what I’m gonna' say, Blaine,” Sam said.

Blaine sighed. He stepped out from the curtain, eyes squeezed half shut in apprehension. It felt like he was walking out on stage naked.

“You still look awesome,” Sam concurred.

“I definitely agree. You’re like a sexy, western James Dean.” Tina made a face, growling and positioning her hands like claws. Blaine rolled his eyes. He took off his hat, scratching his gel-less hair for the thirtieth time in the last twenty minutes.

Tina had helped him straighten it, combing it to the side to give him the sexy bedhead look. It felt weird, but not weird-bad. Weird-different.

Tina clapped. “I’m so excited for you to see mine.” She had a plastic bag, which she’d swatted Sam’s hand away from when he went to go look through it earlier. She disappeared behind the curtain where Blaine had just been standing, talking while she changed.

“It took me a while to come up with an idea, but I got inspired by you two going shopping together and decided on a couples’ costume.”

“With who?” Blaine asked.

“Artie,” Tina said. Then she peaked around the curtain. “But that does not mean we are getting back together,” she said firmly. Sam and Blaine raised their hands in surrender before she disappeared again. Moments later, Tina stepped out wearing an orange sweater, matching skirt and short black heels.

“Velma, Scooby Doo,” Sam said.

“Correct.”

“Yes!” He fist pumped the air.

“I’m guessing Artie is Shaggy, then?” Blaine asked.

The doors to the gym swung open, light coming in from the hallway. “You know it!” Artie yelled, wheeling himself in. He was wearing a loose green shirt and brown khaki pants. “Whoa, Blaine. You look-”

“I know right?” Sam asked, jumping down to greet him. “Dreamboat material.” Blaine just laughed, looking away when Tina now rolled her eyes at him.

“Your turn, Sam,” she said.

“Oh, you guys are not ready for this,” he said, jumping back up on stage. Artie wheeled himself up the stage ramp, joining Blaine and Tina as they waited for Sam to quickly change. Clothes were thrown from behind the curtain, Sam’s shirt being cast feet away. It reminded Blaine of the Student Council election debate.

He didn’t have too much time to hold onto that thought, because seconds later, Sam was stepping out from the curtain in his matching cowboy costume. They’d decided against sailors, Blaine caving completely that day in the Halloween store. The compliments had definitely distracted him.

“Hot damn,” Artie said.

Hot damn was right. Sam hadn’t tried on the cowboy costume in front of Blaine before, but he looked… well, he looked really hot. Acknowledging that in his mind made Blaine feel like a hormonal neanderthal, but it was true. He was allowed that, wasn’t he?

“Sam you look fantastic. I feel like I’ll get a sunburn just standing here,” Tina said.

Sam laughed, eyes alight. He took a bow in his cowboy boots. “I live to serve,” he said.

“As man candy, for sure,” Artie said.

“Blaine, come on man. Give me your thoughts,” Sam pushed.

Well, what was he supposed to say? That Blaine thought he could win Sexiest Man Alive 2012 right then and there, no competition. That he had a big, gooey and hopeless crush on him so of course he couldn’t help but think he was hot? Was Blaine supposed to say that a small, sad part of him took all of this into account and was calling him pathetic for all of it on a 24/7 loop?

“They’re right,” he said, settling on his words. “You look amazing, Sam.” For some reason, the twin cowboy looked disappointed. He was still smiling, but Sam’s eyes glanced down at the tip of his leather boots.

“The vegan freaks are gonna' kill us,” he said.

“Most of it’s fake leather. I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Tina said.

“We ready to go, pilgrims?” Sam asked. His voice was weirdly Southern.

“John Wayne?” Artie guessed.

“Right on.”

Blaine couldn’t help but laugh at the whole interaction. Sam glanced at him, eyes shining.

“Let’s do this,” Tina said.

Walking down the halls felt like walking in slow motion. Part of Blaine liked to imagine them in a wind-swept posse, strutting the halls of McKinley. Truthfully, they probably looked like a group of dorks in uncomfortable costumes- which was what they were.

It didn’t matter, because for once, Blaine felt happy. Really happy. He wasn’t thinking or worrying, his heart didn’t feel too big for his chest. Easy fun, that’s what this was. Blaine figured he’d like a lot more of it.

Student council gathered in the Titans room. Sam took a seat next to Blaine today, to which Tina gave Blaine an acknowledging look. Blaine shook his head.

“Alright, I think everyone’s here. Let’s get started,” he said.

“So we’ve discussed a bit outside of council meetings since last week, about the Sadie Hawkins dance,” said Tina. “We’ve come up with some potential themes; black and white, Decades dance or Winter Wonderland.”

“Black and white would be hard to get everyone to coordinate to,” Lauren said.

Sam nodded. “It’s really hard to find old clothes, too,” he said. Then he tried to correct himself. “Well, not old clothes but like, old- looking- ”

“It’s okay, Sam,” Blaine said quietly. “I think Winter Wonderland would be perfect.”

Sam craned his head a little to look at Blaine beside him, his face an expression of disbelief. Luckily, he didn’t say anything.

“All in favour, say I,” Blaine continued. Sugar, Tina, Lauren and Sam vocalized their agreement. “I think it’s unanimous then.”

“Okay,” Tina said, scribbling things down in her council notes. “So, we should definitely get on fundraising- decorations for a winter theme could get pretty steep, and there’s no way Coach Sylvester is giving us a budget. Ideas?”

“We could do candygrams, but snow themed?” Sugar said.

“But won’t we end up repeating that for Valentine’s day, then?” Lauren asked.

“Good point,” Tina said. “Oh, you know- how about a kissing booth?”

"I don't know if that's a great idea,” Sam said.

“I think we could really bring in a chunk of change if we got McKinley’s most eligible together for the fundraiser.”

“Blaine, what do you think?” Sam asked.

And suddenly all that Blaine could see were his lips. His stupid trouty mouth, always asking for chap-stick or saying something ridiculously adorable.

“It’s a fine idea,” Blaine said. His brain must have short-circuited, but it was too late to take it back now. Tina was already motoring on about the details.

“I’m sure I could get Ryder and Jake to do it,” she said.

“I’ve still got some pull with the football team,” Sam said.

“I’m sure I could get some hot band kids in on it,” Lauren said.

“Wait, there are hot band kids?”

“What else do we have on the agenda?” Blaine cut in. The image of Sam leaning in ever closer was on replay whenever he blinked. Looking around the room, everyone shook their head.

“I think that’s everything,” Sugar said.

“Alright then. Meeting dismissed.”

They all eventually split up, headed down the respective hallways that held their next classes. Blaine thought he was alone, watching out of the corner of his eye as Artie wheeled down the English department hallway, followed by Tina. Until he felt a presence beside him.

“I think our costumes are awesome, Blaine,” Sam said. Sometimes he forgot Sam’s data management class was in the same hall as Mr. McCarthy’s calculus class.

“They’re definitely worthy of that judgement,” he said. Blaine stopped at the calculus door. Sam stopped with him, watching the halls empty in the pre-bell scurry. Then he looked back at Blaine. His face was open, relaxed. No- vulnerable.

“Look, Blaine, I just wanted to say that… I really appreciate our friendship. And I’m sorry about the other day, and tearing into you about the Superhero Society. I guess I was just… jealous.”

“Of what, Sam?”

“You and Tina, hanging out without me. I guess I just want to spend as much time with you guys as possible before it’s all gone.”

Moments like this siphoned the easy fun away pretty quickly.

“Well we weren’t really hanging out, per say. More just talking… boy problems,” Blaine said. God, that sounded so ridiculous out loud.

“Ah- gotcha’,” Sam said, nodding. He was probably thinking it was about Kurt- about Blaine missing him, missing what they had. And he wasn’t wrong, exactly. A part of Blaine would always miss Kurt, his first love. But he’d moved on, too. To the most unavailable option of all time, but still. It’s not like Blaine could say any of this.

Sam still stood there, though, until the bell rang. The door behind the boys opened, an unhappy looking Mr. McCarthy holding the doorknob.

“Mr. Anderson, I hate to break this up-” he said sarcastically, giving Blaine the evil eye.

“I’ll catch you later,” Sam said, before walking away down the hall. Blaine entered the class, trying to ignore the usual stares the late-comers got and sat in his seat. The lesson began, and his mind began to sift through his thoughts again.

Thursday, glee club. Finn was there waiting when everyone got in the door, dry erase marker in hand already. The band’s drummer was adjusting his seat as the guitarist absently strummed a few chords.

“Alright everyone,” Finn said. He approached the white board, writing the word on everyone’s minds in block letters on the board. Turning back to the group, he said, “Regionals. We’ve got to come up with a set list, and quickly. We’ve got two weeks to rehearse and choreograph three numbers. Also, Sam and Blaine-”

They looked at Finn at the same time. “Neither of you sang last week, so I’m turning to you for ideas today.”

“About that, we didn’t perform last week because of Regionals,” Blaine said. “We’ve been working on something. Together.” The last word didn’t seem to quite fit around his mouth.

Finn looked a little caught off guard. “Then let’s hear it.”

Tina clapped excitedly from her chair as Sam stood. The bassist handed him his acoustic guitar, and he stood next to Blaine who had once again taken a seat at the piano.

- 

“ Here you come again… And here I go, ” Blaine and Sam harmonized together on the last line. Blaine couldn’t help but look up at Sam as his fingers danced across the piano’s keys. The other glee club members were giving them various degrees of applause, Tina of course giving out little whoops.

“So?” Sam asked, looking to Finn.

“I think you’ve got something there. Since Blaine is the new Rachel, he’s entitled to a solo-”

“Wait, what?” Unique’s voice carried from the back.

“But if he wants to turn it into a duet, that’d work too.”

“Awesome,” Sam said. He held his hand out to Blaine, fingers spread. “High five man.”

Blaine reached up, giving him a semi-confident slap on the palm. He imagined the high five turning into something else- their fingers intertwining, Sam’s hand warm holding his own. Blaine standing and taking Sam’s other hand, pulling him close. Their foreheads resting against each other before he moved slightly, their noses bumping as-

“Well,” Finn said. “We’ve still got a lot of work to do, polishing. Anyone else got any ideas?”

Tina raised her hand. “PSY’s ‘Gangnam Style’.”

“Tina, none of us speak Korean.”

“Wrong,” she said. “I do.”

He pointed at her awkwardly with his marker. “I’m sure we can work with that.”

“What about the dance? That’s only a couple weeks away too,” Marley said.

“I think student council can handle the Sadie Hawkins performances, right Blaine?” Tina asked, turning to him.

Blaine could see how Finn sort of tensed up just at the mention of having to organize something else. He was really stressing in the absence of Mr. Schue, evidently. But Blaine really didn’t want to have to think about the dance more than he had too. If he could get it over with only helping where he was absolutely needed, it would make things more survivable. Because of Sam. Because it was senior year. Because of everything.

“Uh, sure,” he said. Blaine regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. “If a couple of you are interested, we’ve got a meeting next Wednesday.” Blaine looked around the room, seeing Marley sit up in her chair a bit more.

“Cool then. Your assignment for next week, is songs for Regionals.” Finn underlined the word on the board some more before dismissing everyone.

Blaine crawled into bed as soon as he got home. He was absolutely exhausted. Keeping all of his thoughts in check had turned into a full time job.

He couldn’t think about Sam, because he’d decided that it would help speed up the supposed four months if he thought about him less. But Blaine couldn’t stop hanging out with him, because one, that would suck, and two, it would be super suspicious.

Blaine had Regionals to think about, and a dance to plan and simultaneously avoid. It felt like he’d bottled up the past two weeks inside of himself, and now he was about to explode. So he did only the most rational thing a man could do in his situation.

Blaine called Tina.

“Hey Blaineydays,” she said when she picked up the phone.

“Hey Tina. Are you busy right now?” he asked.

“Nope. Calc homework can always wait for you, Blaine.”

“Okay,” he said. And then he didn’t say anything for a long while.

“You still there?” Tina eventually asked.

“Yeah, I just- I called you because I needed to talk to someone and now. I just don’t know what to say.” There was a pressure behind his eyes, Blaine’s vision fogging up. “I don’t think I can do this, Tina.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I know it’s a stupid crush, but I can’t… It hurts, to plan this dance. And it hurts to sing with him, and it hurts to think about him.” A tear rolled down past his chin. Blaine wiped it away with his sleeve. “I don’t know why you had to suggest a dance in the first place,” he said.

Blaine had been thinking about it since his confession in the music room. So much of this wouldn’t be the way it was if he didn’t have to acknowledge and plan and participate in a dance with someone that he’d never get to be with. The romance of it all, or lack thereof, was what made this all hurt most.

“Blaine I didn’t know,” Tina said quietly.

“I know, I know,” Blaine said reasonably. “And neither does he.”

“I thought that was what you wanted.”

“It is. But the funny thing? That’s the part that kills me the most.”

Tina was quiet on the line for a second. Then she said, “Blaine, how long have you really had feelings for Sam?”

Really had feelings for him. She was questioning Blaine’s timeline of events, which was something he’d never thought to do himself. This didn’t just happen because of tots. The warm feeling he got around Sam, Blaine had felt it long before he realized he actually liked him. Maybe even a little before he and Kurt ever broke up. Had Sam always been there, marching in the back of Blaine’s mind? With his blonde hair and big smile, and heart of a golden retriever.

“Oh god,” Blaine mumbled.

“What are you going to do?” Tina asked.

“I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”

“I don’t know Blaine. With Mike things were pretty straightforward. This is all sorts of complicated.”

“Yeah. I guess it is,” he said.

“Have you thought of just… telling him? Honesty is the best quality.”

“That’s not an option, Tina, you know that. It would make the friendship awkward. You and I both know it. And I don’t want to lose Sam.”

“Okay, well… Just think about it, okay?”

“Trust me, that’s all I’ve been doing,” Blaine said. “I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

“Yeah. See ya, Blaine.” Then she was gone.

Sam called on Saturday, several times. Blaine didn’t pick up, watching guiltily as his phone screen went dark and Sam was inevitably sent to voicemail.

He had music to distract him, though. Apparently personal angst was great songwriting inspiration. Blaine sat in his pajamas at his keyboard when the doorbell rang. He didn’t get up right away, trying to guess who was at the door. His parents weren’t home, and he wasn’t expecting any company. A delivery? If so, they could leave it in the door.

Blaine’s comfortable FedEx theory was debunked though, when the doorbell rang again, and again in quick, irritated succession. Finally, he made his way down the stairs to the door, opening it.

Sam stood there, jacket zipped up to his chin and hood pulled over his head. The ends of his hair were still wet despite his efforts as he stood on Blaine’s porch in the rain.

“Sam,” Blaine said. “I wasn’t expecting you.” The weather always got rainy around this time of year, which only added onto Blaine’s personal gloom.

“Yeah, can I come in?” Sam asked.

“Uh- sure.” He held the door open wider, letting Sam in past him.

The blonde boy took off his boots at the doormat, shaking off as he peeled off his jacket. “Thanks man.”

Neither of them said anything until they moved further into the house, Blaine heading towards the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? I think we have orange juice,” he said, opening the fridge.

“No thanks, man,” Sam said. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out, actually.”

“Yeah. I’ve got video games upstairs if you want to-”

“I mean like, go out and hang out,” he clarified. “I’ve got this, um, buy-one-get-one-free coupon for Breadstix, and it expires soon.”

Immediately, a million questions popped into Blaine’s mind. He tilted his head to the side a bit, a giveaway to his confusion. He didn’t say anything, though. “Let me go get dressed.”

Blaine didn’t say anything when he came downstairs again to see Sam waiting for him, or when they drove across town to Breadstix. But then, ten minutes after being seated with menus, he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Sam?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled over a mouthful of under-cooked garlic bread.

“Why did you invite me out for dinner?”

Sam stopped chewing. Then he swallowed. It looked a little painful. “Well when you say it like that…”

When you say it like that, it sounds a little gay , Blaine finished in his head.

“I just thought it’d be fun.” Sam took another bite of garlic bread, then, “Are you not having fun?”

“No, I was just curious,” Blaine said. No, it’s just that we’ve never done this before. Not alone, anyways.

“I’m pumped for Regionals.” Sam was already on the next topic. “I think our duet is gonna' rock. We’re definitely going to win.”

“Definitely,” Blaine agreed. “Do you think we’ll make it to Nationals again?”

“I hope so. I mean, it’s our last chance. Senior year,” Sam said.

“A rite of passage.” Sam nodded at Blaine’s words.

“Exactly,” he said. Their spaghetti arrived, pausing the conversation. When the waitress left, Sam dug in. “So have you thought of who you’re gonna' take?”

“Where?”

“To the dance. I know we’ve got a lot of stuff to finalize and all that, but it’s never too early to start thinking about it.”

Blaine examined the noodles twisted around his fork, trying not to look too much at Sam across the table. “I haven’t, actually. Pretty sure I’ll be flying solo.”

“Well that’s cool, dude. You can be an independent gay guy. Tell ‘em that- That you don’t need a man!” Sam said enthusiastically. Spaghetti sauce got on his lip.

“Totally,” Blaine laughed a little. “You’ve got a little something.” He waived over his face.

Sam’s tongue poked out of his mouth, licking the wrong side of his mouth. “Did I get it?” he asked, mouth full.

“Gross, no. Let me just-” Blaine grabbed Sam’s cloth napkin, previously wrapped around silverware, and leaned across the table to gently wipe away the sauce. He didn’t think about it, just did it, only stopping to consider it when he planted himself back on the pleather booth seat.

Sam was staring at him, a little too wide eyed. “Sorry,” he apologized. “You weren’t getting it, so-”

Then Sam shrugged, eyes down at his bowl again as he tucked into the wet noodles and watery sauce. Blaine didn’t know why, but there was a feeling on his shoulders the rest of the night, right up until Sam dropped him back off at home.

They had so many of those moments, where something would happen, Sam would be… Sam , but not about it, and then they would continue on like nothing happened. It sort of seemed like Sam was aware of it, too. Something told Blaine that Sam knew; that he knew about the costumes and the phone calls with Tina and the song- all of it. But that couldn’t be possible, because Tina would never tell. Eye contact and awkward moments weren’t signs , he had to remind himself. They were teenagers, human beings. Those things happened all the time.

It could’ve just been him, one hundred percent. He thought it probably was.

There was something else there, too, though. Blaine wasn’t imagining that- couldn’t imagine that, because then he would have to deal with the fact that he was head over heels for his straight best friend. He couldn’t handle the personal implications of fulfilling that trope.

He couldn’t handle being just another sad cliche.

Two weeks passed, student council meetings carried on, and McKinley High got closer and closer to its first ever Sadie Hawkins Dance. Everything seemed to blur at some point, the details fuzzy around the edges of Blaine’s mind. Cotton snow for the floors, winter blue glitter paint, cardboard snowflakes painted white… 

Monday second period, Ms. Wizst had assigned a chemistry lab. Tina had called Blaine that evening, confused about a function, which had turned into a conversation about dances. That seemed to be happening more and more.

“I can’t decide on a blue dress or a silver one,” Tina said, voice muffled by the sound of textbook pages flipping.

Blaine had his own textbook open, his phone by his side on speakerphone.

“I’m in no way a fashion gay-” Blaine said.

“We both know that’s not true,” Tina mumbled.

“But I think blue might go better with the theme. Winter, ice, y’know?”

“Good idea.” More page turning. “So what are you planning on wearing?” Tina asked.

“I don’t know, actually. More and more I’ve been thinking about skipping the dance altogether,” Blaine said.

“What? Blaine, no. You can’t do that.”

“And why is that?”

“You’re student council president. It’s like, an obligation,” she said.

Blaine adjusted his position propped up on his pillow, now looking directly at his phone like it was Tina’s face. “I’ll just be a downer, Tina. People who don’t go to dances don’t go for a reason.”

“Hey, look- I’ve got an idea. How about, we go together. Like… frates! Friend-dates,” she suggested. Blaine was silent, thinking it over. “We could break into the cafeteria and steal a bag of tots,” Tina added. “I know I’m no Sam, but I know how to bust a move or two.”

“Alright. It’s a… frate, then.”

“Great. Oh! Did you hear about Marley asking Jake this morning?”

“Did she sing something?” Blaine asked predictably.

“With Brittany. She asked…” Tina fell silent.

“Tina? Who’d Britt ask?”

“She asked Sam, Blaine.” Waiting for what came next felt like waiting for the world to explode. “And he said yes.”

He’d been expecting it, Blaine had- but he hadn’t anticipated how much the news would hurt. His gut twisted, lungs suddenly empty like someone had knocked the wind out of him. Like he’d predicted, Sam got asked by a hot girl, and said yes. Apparently self-prophecizing didn’t soften the blow. It only made it hurt worse.

He wondered a little, after the phone call with Tina had long ended and the sun was starting to drift up into the sky, what would’ve happened if he’d asked Sam. If Blaine had done what Brittany did, would there have been a different reaction? Well, of course, because he was a gay guy asking a straight guy to a dance really centered around girls. The whole concept kind of made his head hurt a bit.

For some reason, though, Blaine’s mind came up with a maybe. That Sam wouldn’t have said yes, but that he wouldn’t have said no. He’d probably be more than a little speechless, and there were thousands of disaster scenarios: Sam doing that straight-bro thing and bursting out in over-masculine anger. He could reject him and end their friendship right then and there.

It just didn’t seem like Sam would. It didn’t.

“We’re out of money.” The first words out of Sugar, student council treasurer’s mouth on Wednesday.

Marley and Unique were sitting in this meeting, in two chairs crammed between Lauren and Tina to talk about performances at the dance. It seemed they had bigger things to worry about, though.

“What do you mean, we’re out of money?” Blaine asked.

“I mean, we’re out. The money set aside for dances ran out a week ago, with…” Sugar peered at the printed sheet of paper in front of her. “‘Decor expenses,” she said.

“I knew we didn’t need that much fake snow,” Tina muttered.

“So what do we do?” Lauren asked.

“How about a fundraiser?” said Marley.

“Those have a history of not going too well,” Tina said.

“I know!” Sam said. “Instead of baked goods, we could try our own selling power instead.”

“How about… a Men of McKinley calendar?”

“Ooh, mark me down for two,” Unique said.

  Blaine was confused as the conversation whirred around him. Tina was jotting things down as Sugar and Lauren were pitching themes for months, and Sam was suggesting guys to pose for each.

“We could get all of the glee guys to do it,” he said.

Blaine could have broken his neck at the speed he spun it towards Sam. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course, man. I’ve been working out extra hard in case of an opportunity just like this.” It’s true, Sam had been spending more time in the weight room- so much time, in fact, that he’d barely been showing up to his and Blaine’s Regionals practices.

It almost felt like avoidance, but Blaine knew better than to think that. There was no reason for Sam to be avoiding Blaine… if anything, it would be the other way around. Or at least, that’s what Blaine told himself to keep the anxieties at bay.

“You should totally do January. Or December,” Tina said to Blaine. “You’d make a super sexy Santa.”

Lauren got a mischievous smirk on her face. “I nominate Sam for July. Definitely the poster boy for a wet hot American summer, blondie,” she said.

A lump formed in Blaine’s throat, even as a smile grew on Sam’s face. He wasn’t jealous, was he? Of a silly comment? There were so many other things Blaine’s brain could’ve been nagging him about- school, dance planning.

Hell, if it had to be Sam-related, then how about him going to the dance with someone else. Living inside his own head was becoming exhausting.

“I’ll get them on board first,” Sam said. “I’m sure they’ll be down. Artie might need a little persuasion though.”

“That’s your assignment, then. Right Blaine?” Tina asked. She was trying to get him engaged in the conversation again.

“Yeah. Get the guys to say yes first, and we’ll plan from there. Tina, Lauren and I can look into some printing options on our own time.”

“If we sell enough, we’d be able to pay for the rest of the dance expenses,” Sugar said.

“The Men of McKinley calendar is a go then,” Blaine said less than optimistically. Then he turned to Unique and Marley. “We’ll talk acts at next week's meeting, alright? Dismissed.”

He scrubbed a hand lightly over his face as everyone exited the room.

“You look stressed, man,” Sam said.

Blaine let out a dry chuckle. “You could say that.”

“We should do something fun this weekend. You, me and Tina,” he continued.

“Are you going to take us both out for sloppy spaghetti?” Blaine asked.

Sam’s face turned a little red for a moment. “Uh, no. I was thinking a movie?”

A movie with Sam. And Tina, best friend and buffer. Blaine felt relief in his chest, just a little, as disappointment smarted at his ribs.

“The movies, huh?” Tina asked over the phone.

“Yeah. I think it’s going to be fun.”

“Blaine, are you sure I’m not just… third wheeling it here?”

“Of course not, that’d be ridiculous. It was Sam’s idea,” Blaine said.

“Well has Sam pitched any other hangouts to you?” she asked.

He thought before he spoke, weighing his options. He hadn’t told Tina about Breadstix yet, and Blaine was kind of worried if he did, she would jump to conclusions. Ridiculous conclusions that he didn’t want her to jump to, because the neanderthal part of his brain would eventually fall for them and get his hopes up, only to inevitably be crushed.

“No, not really,” he lied.

She seemed stumped at that. “Huh. Well, I guess it’ll be fun. I’ll pick you up, we can meet Sam there.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Oh! And have you chosen an outfit for the dance yet?” Tina asked.

“Nope,” Blaine said.

“Then I know what we’re doing before the movies this Saturday.”

Just as promised, Tina showed up at Blaine’s house bright and early- hours before the movie began- and drove them both downtown. A tiny boutique with white fairy lights in the store window awaited them beside the cramped parking lot.

The bell jingled above the door as Blaine pushed it open. It smelled like peppermint candies that his grandmother would have given him. There were dresses of all shapes and sizes on racks upon racks. Tina took him near the back, showing him a couple rows of suits and tuxedos.

Blaine approached one, glancing at the price tag. “Tina, I don’t know how you expect me to afford this,” he said.

“You don’t have to worry about anything,” she said. “Call it a… decor expense.” He gave her a judgmental look. “What? This just means the Men of McKinley calendar is basically paying for itself. Sugar and I will make you earn your keep, don’t worry.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Tina smiled at that. “Great. So, let’s start looking. First off, the crucial question; tux, two-piece or three-piece?”

“Well it’s not 2003, and I’m not an English businessman so I’d say two-piece,” he said.

As they explored the racks, Blaine let his mind wander to make small talk. “I wonder what everyone’s going to wear… Sam, Brittany…”

“Blaineydays…” Tina sighed.

“What? I’m just curious. Trying to suss out the competition,” he joked, but the last sentence came out deflated. There was no humour in it. His attempts at small talk were really depressing.

“What about this?” Tina lifted two hangers off the rack. A suit jacket and folded pants hanging from one, and a simple white dress shirt hanging from the other. The jacket was a simple blue, with lighter blue accents here and there and around the shoulders.

“I think it’d go with your dress,” Blaine said. “But I have dress shirts at home.”

“See, that’s what we should be thinking about. Not Sam, not Britt. Just the best pair of frates Lima has ever seen. And the shirt’s just for trying stuff on.” Tina rushed him to the change rooms, waiting outside as he quickly changed.

“Speaking of depressing love lives… I’ve got a confession,” Tina said, voice muffled by the barrier between them.

“I’m listening.”

“I almost called Mike yesterday.”

Blaine stayed quiet, buttoning up his collar. “I’m sorry, Tina,” he said.

“I called Unique instead, and she gave me a pep talk. That I don’t need a man, all that,” she said.

“Well she’s not wrong,” Blaine said. He shrugged on the jacket, looking at himself in the warped mirror inside the change room. For a moment, he saw his cowboy reflection staring back at him. Shaking his head, Blaine smoothed out the jacket sleeves.

He opened the door, revealing a waiting Tina. “What do you think?” he asked, holding his arms out like wings and spinning.

“You look like a million bucks, Anderson,” she said. “But your top buttons are all messed up.”

Tina walked closer, unbuttoning the top couple of buttons on Blaine’s dress shirt and fixing them. She left the top two undone. “For sexy flair,” she winked.

Blaine walked back into the dressing room, door open now, looking at himself in the mirror. He did look good, that he could admit. It was the outfit that could probably make even Kurt take him back.

Blaine didn’t want that, though. He didn’t want to go back to that. He didn’t want to go to this stupid dance, either. It didn’t matter that he looked like a million bucks. Not when the only person he cared to see it would be staring at someone else all night.

He turned, ready to open his mouth to tell Tina all of this. Blaine stopped short at the look in her eyes. Admiration, pure love. Maybe he didn’t want this, but she did.

Frates, not for his wellbeing but for hers. Even if he didn’t want it, this was a rite of passage for Tina too. After everything, she at least deserved a nice Sadie Hawkins dance.

So Blaine did what good friends do. “I love it.”

She almost rushed him, going in for a hug. “This is going to be the best dance ever!” she squealed. For a second, while Tina was squeezing the air out of his lungs, Blaine let himself believe it.

Blaine was back in regular clothes when they arrived at the movies. Sam was waiting in line already, three tickets in his hand.

“Where were you guys?” he asked.

“Sorry we’re late,” Tina said. “Suit shopping.”

“Suit shopping?” Sam parroted. His tone was confused.

“We’re going to the dance together,” Blaine said. He watched Sam’s face carefully. There- right there. It was something, in his eyes.

They grew wider, Sam’s mouth falling open a little. It was a definite expression of confusion, and ...? All Blaine could picture was his face in the cafeteria weeks ago, the day after he’d skipped out on the Secret Society of Superheroes meeting.

Disappointment. That’s what it was.

Now it was Blaine’s turn to be confused. Why would Sam be disappointed about Tina and him going to the dance together? He was going with Brittany, after all.

Blaine looked up at him, that exact question on his tongue. Would he have rather gone in a group, or maybe gone with Tina? Another option, pointedly unacknowledged, squirmed away in his ear. He thought better of voicing his thoughts, holding eye contact with Sam for a minute before dropping his gaze down to his shoes.

“Who’s ready for Andrew Garfield?” Sam said. The tension was gone again.

Tina seemed oblivious to it all, fawning over the movie tickets as they approached the theater line, her arm linked with Blaine’s.

“Yeah,” he said halfheartedly beside her. “It’s going to be great.”

“That movie sucked,” Sam said, exiting the theater.

“I don’t know, I liked the action. Emma Stone looked really pretty,” Blaine commented. Tina gave him a scowl. “What?”

“Emma Stone’s attractiveness doesn’t negate that that movie was hot garbage,” she said. “You just have a crush on Andrew Garfield.”

“I do not!” he protested.

“Do to, Blaine, and you know it.” He shook his head. “So you’re saying that if Andrew Garfield was here right now, and asked you on a date, you’d say no?” Tina asked.

Blaine looked from her to Sam. “Sam, back me up here.”

He’d been watching their interaction with sly amusement, but now that the spotlight was on him, he seemed to clam up.

“In Blaine’s defense, Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield are both pretty hot. The movie still sucked though.”

“Not the answer I was looking for, but thank you.”

“Fine,” Tina rolled her eyes.

They made their way through the parking lot, Sam following Blaine and Tina to the car. He moved to the side of the car as Tina and Blaine got in, waiting. Blaine watched him for a moment, alone in the cold. Vapor left his mouth when he raised his hands to his face to warm them up.

Tina put the car key in the ignition, turning it. The engine made a sputtering sound, which made Sam raise his eyebrows outside. Blaine looked to Tina, watching her as she turned the key in the ignition again, only for the car to make the same sad sound.

Suddenly, Sam was at Blaine’s window, knocking. He rolled it down.

“Car trouble, miss?”

Blaine laughed, but Tina’s face was serious. “My mom’s going to kill me if I don’t get her car home.”

“Pop the hood. I’ll check it out,” Sam said.

She did as told, the hood now blocking their windshield and view of Sam as he stood in front of the vehicld. Tina got out first, going to join him behind the barrier. Blaine got out too, feeling awkward sitting inside all alone.

“Your battery is freezing cold,” Sam said, leaning over and resting his hand on a giant lump of brown metal. “Try starting it again for me?”

Tina got back in the driver's seat, one leg sticking out the door and tried the ignition again. More sputtering.

“It’s what I thought.”

“What’s wrong?” Blaine asked.

“The battery is dead.”

“Crap,” Tina muttered. She slammed the door shut.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam said. “I’ll call a buddy of mine, he can tow it early tomorrow morning. Just don’t mention that your mom’s car isn’t in your driveway and you’ll be fine.”

“What about the battery? I promised Sugar I’d help her go dress shopping tomorrow,” she asked.

“I’ll come by and fix it up tomorrow, and Blaine can keep me company. Right buddy?” Sam turned to Blaine.

“Sure,” he said.

“I’ll just drive you home.”

“Thank you so much, Sam,” Tina said.

“Hey, what are best friends for?”

The ride was mostly Tina and Sam debating with Blaine over the movie.

“I thought the Lizard’s design was really interesting,” he said.

“He looked like a lumpy pile of puke green Prada,” Tina said.

“What exactly is Prada?” asked Sam. Blaine and Tina both sighed. Tina gave him an endearing smile.

“One day, we will expand the horizons of your fashion sense, Evans,” she said. Sam turned the steering wheel, pulling the SUV into her driveway. “But that day is not today. Bye Blaine!” She hopped out of the car, walking up to her front door and disappearing inside the house.

Blaine got out and sat in her seat beside Sam. As the car pulled back onto the road, they both stayed silent.

“Dammit,” Blaine said suddenly.

“What?”

“I left my suit in her car.”

“We can get it tomorrow,” Sam said. "Sorry, by the way, for jamming your plans like that.”

“I didn’t have plans,” Blaine said.

Sam stopped at a stop sign, watching a truck blow through the one on the other side of the road, straight past them.

“Well, good then.”

“Did you really hate the movie?” Blaine asked.

“It’s not my favourite, but you seemed to like it,” Sam replied.

“I mean, it’s not my favourite either. It’s kinda like music, you know? Guilty pleasures.”

“Trust me, I understand,” Sam said. His tone made it sound more serious than blockbusters.

It was things like this that made Blaine want to ask questions. Moments like these that made his heart speed up, made him hold his breath and heavily consider pinching himself because he couldn’t trust if they were actually happening. Moments that seemed to be leading up to something, only to…

“It sucks about Tina’s car, though.” Die. Only for Sam to do that, move on and cut through whatever was going on here. It made Blaine want to scream.

“Yeah, it does,” Blaine said curtly. Sam must’ve picked up on it, because he stayed silent the rest of the drive.

“It’s this street, right?” he eventually asked.

“Yeah. You can stop here.” Blaine pointed to a yield sign at the beginning of the road.

Sam raised his eyebrows a little, but did as told. Blaine wanted to get out of the car. He was starting to feel claustrophobic.

Opening the door, he started getting out. “Wait, Blaine,” Sam said from inside the car. Blaine peered at him, standing as the street lamp shined down on the top of his head. “Thanks for being such a good friend, man.”

Blaine should have appreciated it. He’d dreamily expected Sam to say something romantic, which made Blaine want to slap himself. It effectively ruined the entire moment.

“Yeah, Sam. You too,” he said. Then he closed the car door, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking the rest of the way down the street.

It wasn’t until he reached his front door did Blaine notice the car was still waiting down the street, headlights shining in the dark. He gave a small wave, but couldn’t see if Sam waved back. It didn’t matter. Or at least, it didn’t feel like it did.

That wasn’t what Sam wanted to say. Not even close. There wasn’t exactly a clear idea of what he wanted to say in his mind either.

What he’d said about the movie. Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield. Brittany. Mercedes and Quinn. Tina was hot too.

Blaine. Sam thought Blaine was hot. Who wouldn’t? Tina had quite the appreciation for his butt and she was friends with him. What made Sam thinking he was attractive any different?

Probably that he thought Blaine’s smile could power the sun ten times over, in the midst of the rest of him that seemed to always be a brooding storm. Fact. That seeing Blaine happy made Sam happy in a way he’d never felt before, and that being the source of that happiness made his heart speed up. Fact.

This had been a discussion in his head since Halloween. Since costume shopping. When he showed Blaine that picture of him in that toga costume.

Sam wasn’t sure why he did it. He had never planned on wearing it, ‘cause even he could see how bad it was. He wanted Blaine’s reaction. Sam knew he was into dudes like Kurt, and Sam and Kurt were very different people.

That lead to the question of, why did Sam care if Blaine thought he was attractive or not? So many girls flattered him every day for his body and his looks, which drove him more and more to the gym to stay in shape.

Maybe that was why. Blaine didn’t make him feel like he had to sweat more or be smarter to be great. He already thought Sam was great.

Brittany made him feel that way, too. Sure, Santana was breathing down his neck whenever she returned to Lima and saw them together, so that wasn’t… fantastic. Britt still made him happy.

Watching Blaine stand in the street, staring down at him wasn’t anything that Brittany had ever made Sam feel, though. Sad. Guilty. For what reason, he didn’t know.

It felt like Blaine had been expecting something in that moment, something that only Sam could deliver that he hadn't. His response left Sam feeling off, his stomach turning to a pit as he watched Blaine walk to his front door.

He waved before immediately going into his house, not seeing Sam wave back. Definitely not seeing the car idle at the corner for another three minutes as Sam wondered if he should get out and ask about it. He decided against it. He’d see Blaine tomorrow. That’s when they could talk about it.

Until then, Sam would have to ignore that feeling.

Sunday morning, Sam showed up bright and early on Blaine’s doorstep. Luckily, Blaine was ready for him this time.

“The Cadillac in the driveway is new,” Sam commented. They walked past it down the driveway towards the curb.

The conversation felt off- Blaine could feel it. It made his shoulders tense up. “It’s my mom’s. She just got home from another trip last night.”

It had been quite the surprise to him, walking in from a suffocating scenario into the equally smothering arms of his mother. She’d been gone for two and a half months, since the school year had started, working on a trial down in Florida. “She’s got a tan now,” he said. “Usually she only gets one when we visit my dad’s family in the Philippines.”

“Maybe I could meet her some time,” Sam said.

“Yeah, maybe.”

The drive to Tina’s place was silent, radio noise filling the empty space.

“Is this The Fray?” Blaine asked.

“Mhm,” Sam mumbled. His eyes were on the road.

“I thought you were more of a country guy.”

“I changed the station ‘cause I knew you’d be in the car with me,” he said.

Blaine watched Sam as he watched the road, another hundred questions spilling out of his brain. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I know,” Sam said simply. Blaine waited, but he didn’t say anything else, even when they stopped at a red light. So he let it go. More for his own sake than Sam’s.

“Tina said the key is under the potted roses on the front steps,” Sam said eventually, pulling up beside her mother’s car.

“I’ll grab them,” Blaine said, unbuckling his seat belt and opening his door the moment Sam pulled the car into park. Climbing the steps, he spotted a black pot of wilting red roses right by the front door. Lifting it up slightly, Blaine grabbed the keys sitting underneath and returned to the driveway, handing them to Sam.

“Thanks man.” Then Sam unlocked the driver’s side door, leaning over the seat to reach the hood latch under the steering wheel. Blaine watched as the car’s hood popped up about two inches. Sam stood up, brushing off his jacket and walking around to the front of the car.

He reached under the small space where the hood had popped up and pulled at another, smaller latch, letting the hood open up fully. There it was again, the same sight as last night now in the dull November sunlight. A bunch of metal parts that all seemed to ooze and bend together to somehow make the car work.

“I’d have no idea that I was supposed to do that,” Blaine said.

“Back in sophmore year, I had a couple jobs other than, uh… stripping,” Sam explained.

“Right.” Blaine could tell Sam was uncomfortable just bringing it up in passing. A mole hill on top of a mountain.

“Burt, luckily, was able to give me an older battery from the shop last night when I asked. Not so sure he was too happy about me waking him up at ten o’clock, though.”

“That just means Tina owes you one,” Blaine said, amused. “If you can measure out the groggy wrath of Burt Hummel into a favour.”

“I might need you to do that for me, then,” Sam said. “Math isn’t exactly a strong suit.”

“I don’t know, Sam. I think you’ve got to give yourself more credit. You’re smarter than you think.”

Sam looked down at the engine and surrounding metal parts inside the car for a moment, then looked up at Blaine. “You know what, maybe I should.”

It seemed to have meant something, but whatever it was, Sam wasn’t telling. There would be a lot of exercising the restraint of letting things go happening on Blaine’s part today, he could already tell.

Sam moved back to his SUV, grabbing a black tool box and a clunky solid block from the backseat.

“Here, hold this for a sec,” he said, handing the tool box to Blaine. Sam set the block down by his feet in front of the car, moving things up and down and to the side inside of the vehicle until he was able to remove a similar looking block and set it down beside the other one. “This is the old battery.”

He kicked the one he just removed from the car, grabbing the new one from Burt’s shop and setting it to the side on top of what looked like the engine. “Inside that tool box will be a pair of black gloves,” Sam said.

Blaine scrambled to set it down on the pavement, crouching to unlatch it and open it up. Sure enough, lying next to a monkey wrench was a pair of black gloves. He handed them to Sam.

“So you and Tina,” Sam said.

“Yes…?”

“You’re going to the dance together.”

“Friends do that Sam,” Blaine said.

“ I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s a little weird? The gay guy going with the newly single straight girl?”

Blaine scoffed. “No. Sam, we’re going together to support each other.” Then he said under his breath, “Maybe it’d be different if someone hadn’t gotten a date.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam said, prying his attention away from the car to look back at Blaine.

He was looking Sam dead in the eye. “Nothing,” he said, glancing down at the tool box. “I just mean, you shouldn’t judge us because we’re trying to make the most of an odd situation. Okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Okay.” There was a brief moment of tense silence before Sam turned fully around again, which made Blaine get to his feet. “No, you know what? Not okay. You’ve been so… weird lately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Blaine asked.

“Come on, man, you know what I’m talking about. We barely spend any time together anymore, and when we do it’s always awkward. You and Tina, sneaking off and hanging out without me.”

“I thought you let that go.”

“That’s not the point,” Sam continued. “I see the looks you two give each other when I’m around. I feel like you’re keeping something from me.”

There it was. Blaine’s worst nightmare was now rearing its ugly head. He knew it. He knew it, that this would happen. He’d been so stupid, from the beginning. For letting his feelings flourish. God, for telling Tina. For even entertaining the thought that something could happen, or that he’d be able to get over Sam without him ever knowing. Stupid.

And yet, Blaine would come to regret what came out of his mouth next more than any of those other things. “Maybe if you tried harder as a friend, then I wouldn’t have to.”

His stomach dropped as the words echoed around in his ears. Blaine watched as upset drained away from Sam’s face, leaving nothing but hurt.

He swallowed. It even looked painful. The driveway, hell, the neighbourhood fell dead silent as they both stared at each other. Sam looked like he was trying to articulate words instead of crossing the space between him and Blaine and decking him in the teeth. Blaine wouldn’t have blamed him if he had, anyway.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Sam finally settled on. He turned back to the hood of the car, focusing on his work now. Every now and then he would mutter a request in Blaine’s direction, tone flat and face unseen. To hand him the new battery. To put the old one he’d just removed in the backseat. Give him that can of mysterious aerosol spray, to test the car to see if the engine would turn over this time.

Forty minutes later, the engine did turn, Tina’s mother’s car humming to life.

“Great,” Sam said. He started packing up his stuff quickly, setting the toolbox down in the front passenger seat. “I think you should get your own ride,” he said to Blaine.

“Yeah,” was all Blaine said in response. Sam nodded, got in his car. Then he was gone, and Blaine was on the phone with his mom, asking her to come pick him up. He felt pathetic; for almost being a grown adult and having to call his mom to drive him home, and because of what he’d said to Sam.

Blaine just hoped he could mend things with him. That is, if they weren’t already broken.

“Tina. I messed up.”

“I think that’s an understatement, Blaine,” she said.

“Wait, so you already know?” He rolled over to the other side of the bed, hand shading his face.

“Sam called me really upset this afternoon. I had to leave Sugar alone in the dress shop for a few minutes. What the hell, Blaine?” Tina sounded mad.

“I know it was stupid-”

“I get that you don’t want to tell him, but come on. Can it really be so much worse than slowly tearing us all apart?”

“I honestly don’t know. Because it could tear us apart anyway,” Blaine said.

“It’s Sam , Blaine. He’s our friend. He’s your friend. You know he wouldn’t do that. And even if he does, I think at this point you owe him an explanation.” The phone made a noise, like it was shuffled a little on her end. “Listen I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow at the photo shoot, alright?”

The photo shoot for the Men of McKinley calendar. Sam would be there, shirtless and hating him. Wonderful.

“I want to be here for you, but it’s kinda’ hard right now. So  just think it over, alright?”

“Yeah,” Blaine said. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

So he did. A lot. His mind was crowded with the returning din of voices telling him he was horrible, so he tried writing it all down, and after much juvenile contemplation, settled on making a pros and cons list.

Pro: It’d untangle this horrible web of lies that he had spun for himself, and by association Tina. Con: Sam might never speak to him again. Pro: Blaine would feel better about himself if he didn’t have to lie to his best friend. Con: What if Sam told people? Con: What if Finn found out? Con: What if Kurt found out? 

Just the thought made Blaine shrink in embarrassment, but he tried to fight the feeling. He actually considered it, all of it, in about as rational a mindset as he could muster. What if Sam told people? What if Kurt found out? What if Sam stopped being his friend? Would the world end: It would certainly feel that way. Losing a crush was one thing, but losing a friend you’d come to trust and love was another. It would feel like the tectonic plates shifting, volcanoes erupting and a million metaphorical Blaine’s running to hide in their hair gel. It would hurt. But Blaine had felt hurt before; he’d just broken it off with who he’d thought he would spend the rest of his life with.

And it’d be awkward, but he would have Tina. His mom would still be here, ready to support him even a thousand miles away. That gave him an idea.

Knocking on his mother’s door was weird only because Blaine realized he hadn’t in so long- it must’ve been years.

She answered the knock with a sing-songy, “Come in,” like she always used to do. Some things seemed to always stay the same.

Blaine opened her door slowly, politely, watching her smile at him from her bed. “What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” she asked.

His insecurities faded at her words. A breathy laugh exited his mouth as he glanced down at the carpeted floor for a moment. “Hey Mom. I was actually wondering if we could talk?” Her face grew concerned. “It’s nothing bad, I mean- I just need your advice.”

“Come on in,” she welcomed. Blaine’s mother patted the spot on the bed next to her. He climbed up and sat-back awkwardly against the pillows near the headboard. “What’s on your mind.” Blaine sighed. “Ooh, boy trouble.”

He gave her a questioning look. “How?-”

“A mother always knows,” she said, tapping her temple. “And you used to sigh like that when you were pining over some other cute lacrosse player back at Dalton.”

“God, I wish this was that type of scenario,” Blaine groaned. He flopped on his back, head opposite the pillows. She waited for him to say it. “There’s this guy,” he started.

“Mhm.”

“And I think- I really like him, Mom. I really do.” Blaine didn’t notice his eyes watering until tears spilled under his eyes. “But he doesn’t feel the same way. He can’t. And I think I just messed everything up anyway.” He tried drying the wet spots on his face with the heel of his hand.

“Oh sweetie, it’s okay.” Blaine’s mom laid down next to him, wrapping her arms around him from the side.

“I said something, because I couldn’t tell him the truth. I can’t , Mom, but my friend Tina says it might be the only way to fix things and I can’t deal with it if it doesn’t. I really like him and I just…” Blaine didn’t finish his thought.

“Have you ever stopped to consider that… that you might love this guy? I mean, I know you’ve been through a lot this year with Kurt and with senior year, so you might’ve not considered it, or maybe…”

“Been avoiding it,” he said for her. “I thought that by now I’d barely be thinking about it, but it’s always there and it never goes away. He’s always there. And now I’m pretty sure he wants nothing to do with me.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If he is as good of a friend as you think he is, I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What do I do Mom?” Blaine asked.

“Well, it seems to me you can take a risk, or you can play it safe. But I think you already know what you want to do,” she said.

And she was right. He did.

Blaine couldn’t get to sleep that night. Stress sweat made him get up and change the sheets. His pillow was too warm, which he kept flipping over. Eventually Blaine threw it off the bed entirely, laying down with his head on the mattress. His head hurt, a migraine definitely brought on by his mind turning itself to mush. How had he ended up in the same place all over again?

Blaine’s eyes were open when his alarm went off hours later. He reached his arm over, shutting it off. Maybe he could get a minute of rest, a moment to decompress… When he opened his eyes next, it was almost 7:15. First period bell rang at 7:30.

“Oh god,” he mumbled. Blaine got out of bed, rushing to change and get to the bathroom. His mother opened her bedroom door just as he was passing by in the hall, trying to pull on a polo shirt.

“You’re still here?” she asked.

“Unfortunately!” he yelled behind him, kicking the bathroom door closed. Blaine checked his watch. 7:25. Then he looked at his hair, a mess of curls on top of his head. There was no way he’d be able to make it on time, forget gel his hair. He groaned, grabbing his comb.

He’d attempted to tame it, but by the look his groggy mother had first given him when he got into the idling car, he hadn’t succeeded. She pulled up in front of the sidewalk that lead to the front doors of McKinley. Blaine was tempted to stay in the car, ask his mom to take him back home. Today was the photoshoot, and he’d given Tina his word about the calendar.

Blaine let out a small sigh through his nose. “I’ll see you later, Mom. Thanks for the ride.” He tried smiling at her, then got out of the car, bag at his hip.

“Have a good day, sweetie!” she called from the car. The likelihood of that was already so very low.

Walking into class ten minutes late didn’t bring an uptick in Blaine’s mood. Everyone was staring at his hair, even the teacher. Artie’s eyeballs practically popped out of his skull. Blaine slumped as he took a seat beside him.

“Hey, man,” Artie said. He was trying to sound casual, not horrified.

“Hey,” Blaine said glumly. “I know- the hair. I ran out of time, didn’t have time to gel it. I’m aware.”

“Rough morning?”

“Rough couple of months,” Blaine said. Ms. Bowen gave the both of them a classic teacher glare, pausing briefly before carrying on her educational spiel.

Blaine rubbed at the skin under his eyes, trying to keep them open. He was just so tired , it felt like there were lead weights attached to his eyelids. He could still see the apologetic look on Artie’s face in the periphery.

When the bell rang an hour later, he was the last out of the classroom, Ms. Bowen looking up from homework sheets every couple of minutes waiting for him to leave. Tina was waiting outside the door when Blaine walked out, a coffee in her hand.

“How’d you know?” he asked.

“Artie texted me. Said you look like you got attacked by an angry pack anti-hair gel werewolves.” She handed him the coffee, warm in his hand.

“Well, thank you. I’ve got some emergency gel in my locker, I just need to get to a bathroom and I should be fine,” Blaine said.

Tina’s eyes grew wide. “Uh oh, Blaine. No you don’t.”

What was she talking about? Then he remembered. Blaine and Sam versus Jake and Ryder, pushing Artie in his wheelchair and Tina in a rolly office chair for a hallway race. They’d used the gel to give the office chair an edge ahead, and now…

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s not so bad,” Tina said. Blaine’s face was full of disbelief as he started down the hallway. He took a sip of the coffee. It tasted like dirt. “Okay, so maybe it’s not the same you we see everyday. Maybe it’s not as… tidy as you would like it. But you can make it work, Blaine.”

He turned down a hallway, headed towards his locker. Tina followed, hovering over his shoulder as he spun his padlock.

Blaine pulled open his door, exchanging textbooks. “I don’t even know why I tried. I convinced myself all night that I could do this, and now-”

“Do what?”

He turned to her. “Tell Sam. Tell him the truth. Try and fix what I messed up. How is he going to take me seriously when my hair looks like Bozo the Clown? God, how am I supposed to do a photoshoot when it looks like this?” Blaine looked at his magnetic mirror, fussing with a few strands. His eyes caught on the photo of the three of them tacked up by a small magnet.

Tina reached over and shut the locker. “Look, so maybe you don’t tell him today.”

“I don’t want to just leave it, Tina. He might think I meant what I said.”

“In my experience,” she said, “It’s best to do big things when you’re feeling like yourself. And you’re definitely not feeling like yourself right now, Blaine.”

“I don’t think I’ve felt like myself in a long time,” he said. The bell rang, and Blaine jetted away down the hall.

Sam sat in the locker room, alone, trying to think. Key word, trying. It felt like he couldn’t get his thoughts in order to save his life.

Objective. That was the word. He was having a hard time being objective. There were so many little things that went along with bigger things that you had to keep in mind for a lot of things. One of those things was friendship. And Blaine.

Sam had noticed him acting a little strange, a little shy. It was better than when he didn’t sing at all, though, or stared at any sort of sheet music scornfully. They’d became friends, and Blaine seemed happier. And now he was Sam’s best friend. Which is what made being upset with him all the more difficult.

In a way, he could almost compare it to when Quinn cheated on him, or when Mercedes broke up with him. But there was something different about it, too. Those had both been intense, but at least Sam’s emotions had a clear, direct path to take. Being upset with Blaine was like stumbling blind. He didn’t know how to feel, how he should have been feeling. Worst of all, Sam didn’t know how to make himself feel better either. All he knew was that he needed to fix things. Or that Blaine needed to fix things- they both needed to talk.

He just didn’t know if emotion would take over first, and he’d end up saying something he’d regret. Sam wondered if that’s what Blaine had done.

Suddenly the door swung open. Sam sat up, paying attention to who walked through. It was Ryder, Jake and Joe, talking idly as they set their gym bags down.

“Hey, Sam,” Jake said. “Are we early?”

“Tina and Sugar haven’t gotten here yet,” he said. He glanced over at the clothing rack standing by a fireworks backdrop, a dozen peculiar looking costumes hanging off of it.

Ryder nodded. “Alright, cool.” Then he asked, “So, she didn’t really give us any prep instructions. Just to ‘be here and look hot’ so…”

“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve got both of those things down, so,” Sam joked, standing and flexing. The guys laughed, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to.

Really, he didn’t want to be here, money for the Sadie Hawkins dance be damned. He felt like crap, and really wanted to go home and maybe have a nap until graduation rolled around. Or maybe sit in his car and listen to the radio. Or drive out to Pirate Pete’s and grab a sundae with the one person who was making him feel all sorts of weird right now.

That was probably selfish of him, or something. Sam couldn’t keep up.

The door opened again, this time staying open by the help of Sugar holding it. Tina walked carefully through with a tripod, smiling at the guys and setting it up quickly before trading places with Sugar. She brought in the camera, clunky and expensive looking.

Sugar handed it to Tina, who took a moment attaching it to the tripod.

“Where’s Blaine?” Sam couldn’t help but ask.

Tina blinked. “He’s, uh, getting the lighting equipment. Artie’s helping him.”

“How’s he doing?” Jake asked. “Seems like he’s having a rough day.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“His hair?” Sugar said, like it was obvious. 

“It kind of looks like an opossum got a perm and built a nest on top of his head,” Jake told him.

“Dude,” Joe mumbled. Ryder jabbed him in the side.

Sam turned to Tina. “Is he okay?”

She faltered for a moment. “Blaine’s fine.”  Then, like he was summoned, the door opened again; Artie incoming and behind him, Blaine. “Alright, so everyone’s ready?”

“Yep,” Artie said, turning heads as he stopped himself beside her. Blaine gave her a short nod.

“Great. Let’s get started then, Mr. January.”

The guys changed quickly, then gathered around the camera as Blaine got ready for his closeup.

“I honestly think the cumberbund is a bit much,” he said. In his left hand was a giant prop bottle of champagne from the theater department, a sparkly golden party hat covering about half of the natural disaster that was his hair.

“Smile and look pretty,” Sugar said, leaning into the camera. There was a flash as Blaine posed and she took the photo, Artie sitting feet away and holding a bounce board in his leprechaun costume.

Everyone was watching him, Jake, Ryder and Joe probably imagining themselves when they would soon take his place. Sam wasn’t, though. It seemed like he was trying to look anywhere but at Blaine, which made Blaine look at him more, waiting for him to look up and make eye contact. Maybe if he could do that, he could tell Sam telepathically, or something. Weren’t horribly cheesy love confessions always communicated through the eyes on television? Why couldn’t this be as easy as that?

Then it was Ryder’s turn, then Artie’s, Joe’s. Sam was August and September.

“Give me ‘I want you’ sexy,” Tina instructed Ryder. He pointed sternly at the camera, a brooding CW expression on his face. That’s when Blaine couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sam,” he said. They were both standing relatively away from the others. Sam looked at him. “I need to talk to you for a sec.”

Blaine walked away from the cameras and Tina, towards the showers. When he stopped at one of the benches, he saw that Sam had actually followed. He stood in front of Blaine.

“What is it, Blaine?”

“Look, Sam. I screwed up yesterday, with what I said. I got defensive and I wasn’t thinking and…” It was now or never. “There’s just been a lot on my mind, with Kurt and NYADA and the dance.” Never.

“Yeah, I get it man. Don’t worry about it okay? We all say things we don’t mean,” Sam said. But his tone didn’t give Blaine relief. If anything, it just made him even more worried.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. You’re my best friend, right?” A smile spread across his face a little too quickly as Sam held up his hand for a high five. Blaine slapped it anyway, even as his stomach felt as if it’d dropped three hundred feet out of the sky.

Things were supposed to be good now, now that Blaine had apologized, now that Sam had forgiven him. But he walked away from the conversation feeling worse, if anything. Blaine wasn’t the only one lying anymore.

“So, we ended up selling about a hundred calendars yesterday,” Tina said. She and Lauren pulled an all-nighter Monday, designing and printing out the Men of McKinley calendars. “In total, we made eight hundred dollars, three hundred going to buying the school a new colour printer.”

“So we’ve got…” Sam started, counting it out in his head.

“It’s five hundred, Sam,” Blaine said.

“We’ve got five hundred dollars.” The two had spent the day yesterday apart, sitting at opposite ends of the table in the music room as they sold the calendars at lunch.

“It’s just enough to pay for everything else that we need,” Tina said.

“Great,” Marley said. “Now can we please talk about performances now?” She’d been sitting in the entire time, waiting quietly.

“Sure,” Blaine said. “What did you have in mind, Marley?”

“I was thinking that some of the senior boys could do something together? Like maybe, you and Sam?” she said. “I really loved that song you two put forward for Regionals.” Marley looked hopeful, sitting up in her seat. How was Blaine supposed to tell her no because of his own stupid boy drama?

“I mean, it’s up to Sam,” he said. Non-committal. Perfect.

He seemed unsure about it too. “Uh…”

Blaine looked to Tina. “You know, maybe we could-” she began.

“Sure,” Sam interrupted. He turned his head to look at Blaine, expression murky. “Sounds like a great idea.”

Tina gave Blaine a look, one he could clearly read. This was going to be a disaster.

Tonight. Tonight was the night. Classes felt like a slog, everyone waiting for the bell to ring and the sun to set, for the big Sadie Hawkins dance to finally begin. There’d been so much preparation and money that had gone into it, the anticipation was warranted. But Blaine felt differently from the excitement that his classmates around him were feeling. In his stomach was a slowly building pit of dread. Because Sam, and Sam and Brittany, and the song.

“This is going to be awesome,” Tina said, standing in front of Blaine. She was helping him with his tie, his skills rusty on anything but a bow-tie knot these days.

“You say that now. In five hours we’ll be sitting in my driveway bawling our eyes out from broken hearts,” Blaine said. Tina’s face turned serious as her hands paused. “A little too close to home,” he noted.

Tina inhaled pointedly, smiling a little extra. “I think tonight is going to be awesome, and it’s all because of us. Well, student council. But mostly us.”

“And Sam.”

“And Sam,” she said. Then Tina finished the knot, smoothing out Blaine’s navy blue tie. “I can’t believe you forgot how to tie a half-Windsor, Blaineydays. You’re really losing it.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Blaine said. He secured his cuff links, joining Tina at the full length mirror in her bedroom.

“You look amazing, Blaine.” Tina made eye contact with him in the mirror, her eyes intense. She was trying to say something without having to really say it: I’m sorry. That this probably would be a disaster and they were now both knowingly walking into it, gussied up and all.

“Of course we look amazing,” Blaine said. It’s okay. “Now, miss Cohen-Chang. Would you do me the honour?” He held out his hand for her to take.

“Isn’t it supposed to be my honour?” Tina held out her hand the same, waiting for Blaine to take it instead.

“I suppose you’re right.”

Sitting in Tina’s mother’s car again felt… strange. This was where Blaine was last before everything truly had gone off the deep end. Sam and him were still best friends, with only mild awkward tension yet to be addressed.

“What did you call Sam and I at Halloween. It was like-”

“Blam?”

“Yeah, that.” They were Blam the last time he’d been in this car. Now they were… Well, Blaine wasn’t exactly sure anymore.

The radio was off, the windshield wipers streaking across the windshield as wet globs of snow fell from the sky the only sound in the car. “I know you’re wondering,” Blaine said.

“Wondering what?” Tina asked. She stopped at a red light.

“If I’m going to tell him. I know you have your own opinion. I just wanted to say thank you, for kinda’ not saying anything. It’s gotta’ be hard.”

“Not really,” Tina said. They started moving again, the car veering right, onto another street.

“How?” he asked.

“Blaine, you’re one of the people at this school who has ever bothered to give me the time of day, nevermind become one of my best friends. Nobody’s perfect- God knows I’ve made mistakes and screwed up here and there.” She pulled the car over to the curb, putting the gear into park. “And you know, Sam’s my best friend too, and it is hard watching you two go through this. But I know the both of you, you’re both good people, and I know you’ll make the right decision eventually. I trust you.”

“Thanks, Tina,” he said. “Wait, why’d you pull over?”

“Because we’re here dummy.” Tina motioned to her window. Just past her hair was the school, yellow lights visible from the outside.

“Alright then.”

“Let’s do this,” she said.

Sam paced the floor, checking the watch Burt had lent him what felt like every five minutes. For some reason, though, the arms would only have moved thirty seconds from the last time he checked it.

Finn came down the stairs in a suit, readjusting his tie. “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Sam said.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just- waiting for Brit to get here. Dance starts soon and she said she was driving, so.”

“Ah, yeah.” Finn sat on the couch, instead of going past Sam to get to his car keys. Clearly there was something more going on than the kid was telling him.

“So are you excited?”

“What? Yeah, totally. It’s like, my last big high school dance right? I’m pumped,” Sam said. But his face didn’t look it.

Sam could feel Finn’s eyes on him, analyzing him. He very clearly knew he was lying, and maybe would try to pull a Mr. Schue and get Sam to talk it out with him or something. Truthfully, Sam was kind of dying to tell someone, because his news was kind of important. Kind of huge, kind of life changing. A realization that could turn the world on its head, at least for Sam Evans- boy was it confusing. But his revelation needed to go to one person specifically, at least at first. The person who had been dodging him, who was kind of an ass out of nowhere suddenly, who Sam hadn’t exactly been trying to see either. The boy he was supposed to sing with tonight. He had to tell Blaine.

“Are you sure…?” Finn asked.

At that moment, Sam saw dim headlights pull up closer to the house. “One hundred percent,” he said quickly. “I’ll see you at the dance.”

He cleared out of there before Finn could say anything else, forgetting his keys in the progress. Brittany was sitting in the minivan her parents had bought her after she didn’t graduate, waving out the window.

“Hey,” Sam said, pulling open the front passenger side door and getting in. He glanced back at the house, seeing Finn watching the van from the doorway.

“Sorry I’m late, Lord Tubbington got himself in trouble with a local gang again,” Brittany said.

“Does he do that often?” Sam asked.

“You have no idea,” she said. The van pulled away from the house, back onto the roads as Sam and Brittany headed to the dance together.

Pop music was buzzing, almost silent over the radio. Brittany turned a corner, and only then did Sam realize two things: first, that in the car with her was just as claustrophobic as it was with Finn in the living room.

Second, Blaine wasn’t the first person who needed to know Sam’s news.

“Britt, I gotta’ tell you something,” he said. And then came the third: That they most certainly wouldn’t be leaving the dance together that night. Sam just hoped it wasn't for nothing.

“Tina, this looks amazing,” Blaine said. He looked up and around him as they made their way into the gym, hand in hand.

“Thanks, Blaineydays.” Tina smiled at him, leading him through the aisles of fake snow and paper snowflakes streaming down from the ceiling. The dance was already alive inside, people dancing and holding onto each other as the McKinley football speakers played a mid-tempo pop song from the corners of the room. Blaine glanced around, taking a quick note of the faces he recognized. One was significantly missing.

“Blaine!” someone burst out behind him. He and Tina turned to see Marley standing there, hand in hand with Ryder.

“Hey Marley,” he said. “Jake.”

“This dance is awesome,” she said. “I mean, it looks amazing.”

“Yeah, honestly dude,” Jake said.

“I think you’ve got miss Tina Cohen-Chang over here to thank,” Blaine conceded. He let go of Tina’s hand, letting her take his place in the conversation. “You want a drink?”

“Sure,” she said. Then she turned to Marley again, talking about something and snowblowers.

Blaine took his leave, weaving his way through the many bodies to get to the punch table. First he sniffed it, not being stupid enough to assume no one had already spiked it. When he was relatively sure the coast was clear, he started pouring the pink-red liquid into a cup for himself.

Every few seconds Blaine would look up, the refreshment table in direct eye line of the gym entrance. Come on. He’d be arriving eventually.

Only when he felt a wet trickle on his oxford did Blaine notice that he was missing the second punch cup entirely, pouring the sugary juice right onto his pant leg.

“Oh crap,” he mumbled. He set the punch down, rushing through the crowd again to get to the bathroom. Blaine pushed the door open harshly, grabbing toilet paper from a stall and quickly soaking it in water. “Come on, come on.” The stain was disappearing slowly, but not quick enough. He couldn’t be in here- he had to be out there. Looking, waiting, watching to see when Sam finally got here.

As Blaine looked up to check the stain in the mirror, he caught a glimpse of himself. He looked picture perfect: gelled hair, sharp suit. There was a beautiful girl, his best friend out on the dance floor right now, alone. And he was what? Stressing about a stain? About a boy? Did any of this really matter?

He had screwed things up with Sam, royally. Tina had been nothing but supportive, advisory. Blaine had taken all of it for granted. He was about to screw up yet another friendship.

He threw the wad of wet toilet paper into the garbage can, exiting the bathroom and searching for her on the dance floor. When Blaine saw her, he jogged over. She was at the punch bowl herself, nose to her cup.

“Tina!” he called.

She turned, smiling at him. “Hey. I thought you split.”

“No I just, uh, spilt some punch on my pants.” Blaine looked down at the wet spot on the shin of his dress pants.

“Of course you did,” Tina said.

“Would you care to dance?” he asked. Blaine held out his hand, which she took happily, walking them both out onto the dance floor. Ryder had just gotten on stage, crooning out a slow song.

Tina pressed her head to his shoulder, both of them swaying slowly like all the other couples around them.

“You know, I didn’t thank you,” he said, loud enough for only her to hear over the music.

“For what?” Tina lifted her head to look at him.

“Being such a good friend.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Blaine,” she said.

“But I want to,” he said. “So thank you. Really. This year definitely would have sucked without you.”

Tina didn’t say anything in return, going to rest her head on his shoulder again. Blaine could feel her smiling slightly.

He observed everyone together around them. Jake and Marley were looking particularly lovey-dovey across the room. Artie and Joe were singing and snapping together onstage, Unique sitting atop the piano as Ryder continued to sing.

Everything, everyone looked so perfect. This was what high school was about, wasn’t it? The high times, the low times, and the times like these. Forget the drama. This was the acception to the rule of high school. These moments of silent clarity, that maybe everything wasn’t so bad. It all made Blaine kind of want to seal this second in amber, keep it on his shelf so he could always go back.

This, right here, was his rite of passage.

“Blaine,” Tina said. She lifted her head again.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Look who’s here.” She nodded towards the gym doors, making him turn around. Sam walked through the blur of snowflakes into the room, Brittany not far behind him. He seemed to say something to her, before she kissed him on the cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

Blaine watched as Sam looked down at his shoes for a moment before looking out at the slow-dancing crowd. His eyes caught Blaine’s, making his heart speed up immediately.

He turned back to Tina. Her expression was soft, a warm look in her eyes as she said, “Well? What are you waiting for?” Ryder finished the last lines of his song, Unique, Artie and Joe singing him out as he made his way off stage. “You’ve got a song to sing.”

“I should be honest with you and say that… I’m not one hundred percent on everything right now. On us,” Sam said.

Brittany was still driving, her attention divided between him and the road. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, things have gotten really complicated lately. With someone else.” The van stopped, red light blaring brightly ahead. Brittany didn’t say anything at first.

“It’s Blaine Warbler, right?” she eventually asked.

“How’d you- um. Yeah. It has to do with Blaine,” he said.

“I’ve known for a little while now,” Brittany said.

“God, Britt, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean for things to end up this way. I still care about you.”

“I know,” she said quietly. The light turned green and the vehicle moved forward again. Brittany’s eyes were completely focused on driving. “I’ve been missing Santana a lot. I just didn’t say anything because… well. I don’t know.”

They drove in silence, the road seemingly stretching on for miles until they drove into the McKinley parking lot. Sam and Brittany got out awkwardly, standing in front of the hood in the cold.

“I was thinking of telling you tonight, too. I just couldn’t figure out a way,” she said.

“I guess I gotcha’ covered there,” Sam said.

The cold air felt like it was invading his lungs as they walked to the gym, Brittany a few steps behind him the entire way. When Sam got through the doors, he was bombarded by twinkly lights and fake snow on the ground. Then Brittany was standing beside him.

“Tina did a really good job, huh?” he asked her. He looked her in the eye when he said, “I don’t know what to say without sounding like an ass right now.”

She smiled, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Good luck, Sam,” Brittany said. She turned, walking off into the dance. He glanced down at his shoes before scanning the gym. That’s when he saw him-Blaine, standing amid a sea of bodies, looking right back at him. Tina stood beside him.

Sam’s attention was drawn to the stage, where Ryder was finishing the last line of his love song. He glanced at his watch. “Crap.”

It was his turn on stage. With Blaine.

His heart was pounding in his ears. There was a drum kit in his head, someone’s hands around Blaine’s neck as he got up on stage, watching as Sam climbed the stairs to the stage across the room.

Okay, reality check. It was simply a song. He sang all of the time- it was Blaine’s defining thing, the one and only thing he was sure about these days. He could do this.

Sam was unreadable, now beside him. Blaine sat down at the piano that Unique was on, her giving him a small wave. He smiled back, his fingers hovering above the keys as she adjusted the mic jutting out in front of his face. Then Blaine looked up at Sam. He nodded curtly.

Blaine pressed down on the keys, taking a deep breath through his nose. “ Here you come again, just when I’ve become to get myself together. ”

“You waltz right in the door, just like you’ve done before and wrap my heart around your little finger,” Sam sang, taking over.

“Here you come again, just when I’m about to make it work without you,” Blaine sang back.

“You look into my eyes, and lie those pretty lies,” Sam returned.

“And pretty soon I’m wonderin’ how I came to doubt you!”

Blaine continued on the piano as Sam took over the next couple of verses. It was a new composition, but it was working. He caught himself almost smiling as they sang together. This felt good. This was what Blaine had been missing. This had been what the appeal of Sam was in the first place. He was kind and generous, and he was there . Always present.

When he was with Blaine, he was never anywhere else. Sam made Blaine feel seen. And then he’d hidden himself away.

“ Here you come again, looking better than a body has a right to ,” Blaine sang. “ And shaking me up so, that all I really know is here you come again .”

“ And here I go! ” Sam sang.

Blaine’s fingers moved quickly over the piano keys as the musical break took over, keeping pace with the beat in his head. Sam moved to stand in front of the piano, like he did when they first sang the song together. It looked like he was about to say something in the middle of the song. He picked up the chorus, though, eyes intense looking at Blaine as he continued to sing. Clearly he was trying to say something. Blaine just wasn’t getting it.

He looked out at the crowd, searching for Tina. His immediate reaction was to go to her. Maybe she had some sort of crush decoder ring. She was standing near the front of the stage, face tearfully happy as she watched her two best friends do what they did best on stage.

No. This was the time, the one time that Blaine had to handle this himself.

When the song ended, Unique hopped off of the piano, taking the mic from Sam. Marley climbed the stage to join her, smiling at Blaine as she passed him.

He smiled back, walking off of the stage. Sam had seemingly disappeared. Then, Blaine felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I need to talk to you,” Sam said. Blaine turned to face him, looking up at him. His face was serious. He walked away towards the gym doors. Blaine cut through the crowd, following.

Sam went where Blaine expected him to: the music room. He kept doing things with his hands. Tucking them under his shoulders, then uncrossing his arms and wringing them together.

He started to talk just as Blaine did. “No, you go first,” Sam said.

“It’s okay, you started talking first--”

“ Blaine. Please.” Sam gave him a pointed look, something Blaine wasn’t expecting.

“I’ve been meaning to say this for a while now, but uh- I guess I just wasn’t ready. And because of that I’ve been lying. A lot. I know I made a mess of things.” Sam didn’t say anything, waiting. “I like you, Sam,” Blaine said. “I’ve liked you for a while now.”

The world was imploding, it had to be. He felt jumpy on his feet now, heart pounding silently in his chest. Blaine had thought about this moment so much, for so long, but he never imagined it going this way. In a way he hadn’t expected.

“Why didn’t you tell me, dude?” Sam asked. His tone wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. No real way to tell what his reaction was. Maybe that was on purpose, like so many other things that seemed on purpose and definitely confusing.

It was driving Blaine mad.

“It’s rule number one in the gay guy rule book: Don’t fall for your straight best friend. And I’m an idiot, so of course I completely ignored it and did anyway. It’s even stupider that I let things… let them get this way so that I had to tell you.”

Tears pooled in Blaine’s eyes as he looked up at Sam. He could feel his face turning red already. “It’s been so fucking hard to do all of this. Go on like nothing’s going on.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Tina, but she’s not going to tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about,” Blaine said. The words were bitter tasting, but what should he have expected?

“That’s not why I’m asking, Blaine,” Sam said.

Deathly silence filled the space between where the two were standing. The music from the gym seemed to disappear entirely.

“You know, it’s been confusing for me, too. Really, really confusing,” he continued. “I’ve been having a lot of feelings that I’ve never really had before, and it’s made me feel really weird.”

Sam took a step closer to Blaine. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, since the student council election.” His eyes panned down to the floor. “Since senior year started, really. And you know that’s not my strong suit.” Another step closer.

Blaine couldn’t help the watery laugh that wormed its way up his windpipe. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

“See, that’s it,” Sam said.

“What?”

“That. You. In all of the thinking, there’s been this voice in the back of the head making sense of everything. It sounds just like you,” he said.

Two more steps. The two of them couldn’t have been more than three feet apart now.

“Sam, what are you saying?” Blaine asked. He was holding his breath, lungs beginning to ache. He was scared that if he breathed it would mess up whatever Sam was about to say next.

“That a lot of things have been messy, but one thing’s been clear. You, Blaine. I think it’s been you for a long time.”

Blaine wasn’t sure they’d ever been this physically close. Sam was starting to lean down, so he started leaning in. The kiss didn’t feel real until he gently rested his hands on Sam’s shoulders.

When it ended, they moved away slowly. Sam was smiling.

“So where do we go from here?” Blaine asked him.

He started to talk, when he was interrupted by a strange noise. The right-side door’s knob moved around, spinning hopelessly as both Sam and Blaine watched in horror.

“Blaine? Are you in there?” It was Marley. She knocked against the door. “I wanted to talk to you about your song.”

“Crap,” Blaine muttered. He had to go. In his perfect moment, of course there was in interruption.

“I’ll hide under the piano,” Sam said. He got down on her knees and started crawling under.

“Wait don’t--”

The door opened behind them, Blaine turning quickly to see Tina, Unique and Marley waiting in the doorway.

“Sam are you hiding under the piano?” Tina asked.

“What? No,” Sam said. He hit his head off of the wood. Smooth.

“He’s, uh, fixing the pedals,” Blaine said.

Tina looked up from Sam on the floor, giving Blaine a disbelieving look. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he sighed.

“Anyway,” Marley said. “I wanted to congratulate you on your song. And you too, Sam. Really, it was amazing. Such great-”

“Chemistry?” Tina said.

“Exactly.”

“It felt like there were sparks flying on that stage, honey,” Unique said.

“I don’t know,” Blaine says. “Marley, you and Jake were getting pretty close out there.”

“Ooh,” Unique cooed. “You did not tell me that.” She grabbed Marley’s arm. “Now you have to tell me all about it.”

Unique stalked off down the hall with Marley in tow. Sam got up from under the piano, brushing off the knees of his dress pants. He stood next to Blaine, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Tina simply said, “Come on, you two. This dance isn’t over yet.”

The gym seemed glittery and colder than before, like the wind had actually taken up inside the building. Knowing the McKinley utility budget, it was absolutely plausible that the heater had crapped out. On dance night, of course.

Instead of gossiping about Marley’s love life, she and Unique were onstage singing a sweet, up-tempo ballad. Some mushy pop song that Blaine had definitely heard but couldn’t quite remember.

He wasn’t focusing on the song anyway. Sam was standing in front of him, two balloons worth of space between them. Blaine wasn’t exactly surprised by this, but it still made his heart drop a little. From one pain onto another, it seemed.

Until Sam moved closer, taking Blaine’s hands and fitting their fingers together. He started dancing, a bit of a sway to it.

“You don’t have to do this,” Blaine said.

“Do what?” Sam asked.

“You know.”

“Listen, I want to dance with you. At a school dance, where everyone else is doing the exact same thing. You’re my best friend, Blaine… whatever else is no one else’s business.”

“Okay,” Blaine said. He didn’t feel any eyes on him, which was a welcome feeling for once. It was less about him being the spectacle, but Sam didn’t seem to care. “What about…” Brittany. Oh my god, Brittany. Blaine Anderson was a homewrecker, a homo homewrecker--

“We had a talk. We’re done,” Sam said. “I think she was expecting it.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said.

“Don’t be.” Sam smiled down at him.

A little while later, McKinley students started clearing out of the gym, getting into cars alone, in couples and in groups.

Blaine watched outside the front doors as everyone went their separate ways, waiting for Tina with Sam by his side. Their hands kept brushing together as they stood and waited.

They saw Marley and Jake take off together, discussion about stopping at the Lima Bean for a hot chocolate. Unique was standing with Ryder until a car pulled up, him getting inside. She seemed to stare after it as it drove away, then waited on her own until her mom and dad picked her up, which gave Blaine a bit of pause.

Eventually, Tina came out the front doors. She spotted the two, walking over. “Hey guys,” she said. It was casual. Too casual. Blaine squinted at her, which she pretended to not notice.

“How’d the dance go?” she asked Sam.

“Uh, better than expected. I mean, Britt and I split but… yeah,” he fumbled.

“I’m sorry about that,” Tina said.

“Thanks, Tina.” Then he took Blaine’s hand in his, holding it. “I should probably get home. The bus gets here soon.” He squeezed Blaine’s hand before letting go, walking away through the parking lot.

“He knows I could drive him home, right?” Tina said.

“I’d leave him,” Blaine said. “It’s been a long night.”

“It sure has. You’ve been pretty busy, eh?” She smiled up at him, implications abound.

“No!” Blaine said defensively. “Well, not really. I told him. We kissed.”

“I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

“That you guys would kiss. Get together. Fairy tale ending crap,” Tina said.

“No you didn’t,” he said.

“Totally did, Blainedays. It’s what you deserve, so of course you got it. Perfect dance, perfect boy.”

“Well what about you? I don’t see the line of guys tripping over themselves to be near you, Tina,” he said.

“Yeah, neither do I,” she said. She looked down at her dress before saying, “I called him. Mike.”

“And?”

“Voicemail. But it’s probably like midnight where he is so it makes sense. I think I love him,” Tina said.

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“I think so, yeah. I guess we’re both in love.”

“I guess we are,” Blaine said.

On the way back to Blaine’s house, they talked about the dance.

“How do you feel?” Tina asked. “Last dance of your high school career under your belt.”

“That’s so scary to think about,” Blaine said. “I’m glad it happened, but I never want to do it again.”

Tina laughed. “High school kind of sucks sometimes. Dances are a major part of that.”

“Sometimes,” he said.

“Not everyone finds their prince charming on prom night, Blaine,” she said.

“I guess I’m lucky it was Sadie Hawkins then.”

When Tina dropped Blaine off, he stood in his driveway, waiting for her to take off. When she left, he looked up at his house. It didn’t feel right to go in just yet. The night wasn’t over. He had one last thing to do.

As quietly as possible, he used his keys to open the garage door from the outside. The Andersons didn’t keep their car in it anymore, too much clutter to even think about fitting a vehicle in alongside everything. Deep beneath the cracked plastic toy trucks and ratty looking Christmas decorations was just what Blaine was looking for. His old bike, rusted and coated in a solid layer of dirt and dust.

He wheeled it out into the driveway, making sure to pull down the garage door again. He stepped over the seat, right foot braced on the ground as his other rested on the pedal. Blaine hadn’t ridden a bike in years, but it wasn’t something you ever forgot, right?

He let the momentum of the uphill driveway get him onto the road, pedaling towards the end of his street and stopping at the stop sign. Blaine turned the corner, feeling like he was pushing his legs against lead, but the bike kept moving. He wasn’t even sure if he was headed the right way, making turns on a whim and vague memory from years of visits until he arrived at the place he’d been looking for.

Now Blaine was standing in front of the Hudson-Hummel house, in the middle of the night with a rusty bike. Before any of the neighbours spotted him and called the cops, he moved around to the side of the house.

There was a window, dark blue curtains blocking his view inside. Blaine was fairly confident it was Sam’s because of the R2-D2 bots printed along the fabric. He scoured the ground for tiny pebbles, collecting them in his hand until he had about a dozen.

One by one, they bounced off of the glass, barely missing Blaine’s face several times. When he ran out of pebbles, his shoulders slumped. The exhaustion from the bike ride and the whole night in general was starting to set in. Thinking about it all still made Blaine smile. Yeah, this was a bust, but everything was so cartoonishly amazing that he didn’t really care.

“Who’s there?” someone asked in the dark. At first Blaine looked up, but there was no one at the window. A tall figure with blonde hair came out from behind the gutter pipe with his fists up. Slowly, he put them down. “Blaine?”

“Sam. Hey. I came over to see you,” he said.

“Dude, I saw you like twenty minutes ago,” Sam said.

“I know, but I didn’t get to do something. It’s actually pretty important.”

“Oh, alright. What is it?”

Blaine let his bike fall to the grass beside the house, moving forward and planting a kiss- another one- on Sam’s lips. This one didn’t feel as impossible. It felt quite plausible that this boy could be kissing another boy, who was also Sam Evans. It was the confirmation that Blaine needed. That this was real.

He let the kiss fade away, taking a breath. “I’m going to go home now.”

“Okay,” Sam said. He looked a little stunned.

Blaine kept turning his head back as he rode away from Sam until he couldn’t see him anymore. He couldn’t stop smiling the entire ride home.

When he finally did walk through his door, he was still smiling. Blaine’s mom sat on the couch with a glass of wine in her hands, waiting for him.

“How was the dance?” she asked.

“I did it,” he said.

It took her a minute to realize, but when she did, she got off of the couch excitedly, hugging him. “Well, how’d it go?”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Blaine said.

“But that in and of itself is both kissing and telling,” his mom said.

“It was a really good night,” he said.

“I’m glad, honey. I’m really glad everything worked out.”

“Me too. Goodnight.”

Blaine started climbing the stairs when she said, “Just make sure to use protection!”

“Oh, God! Mom,” he groaned. He couldn’t help but laugh at the end of it, though. Because he was happy. Blaine Anderson had gotten what he wanted, and he couldn’t have been happier.

The weekend was long and filled with many, many texts. Back and forth messages went between Sam and Blaine. His eyes hurt when he got ready to go to bed on Sunday night.

He woke up Monday to a call. Tina, of course.

“Morning,” Blaine said into the phone, a little confused.

“What’s up with Sam’s text?” she asked immediately.

“You’re going to have to clarify,” he said.

“He texted me at three o’clock this morning, talking about a big surprise. Apparently everyone else in glee club got one too. I figured you would know about this,” Tina said.

Blaine sat up slowly, looking at his alarm clock. Six o’clock. No point in going back to bed. “I don’t  Tina, really. But since I’m awake--” It hit him like a bag of downpouring bricks. “Wait. I think I might know.”

“Is he going to tell everyone that you kissed?” Tina asked.

“What? No. That’s not Sam, come on.” Or maybe it was? “Maybe,” Blaine added. “I kind of stopped by his house last night and kissed him again.”

“I trust that you used protection… right?”

“God, what? No, nothing happened. I just kissed him. Simple lip stuff,” he said.

“Mhm. Whatever,” Tina said.

“Did Mike call you back yet?”

“Just when I get it off my mind, Blaine, you have to remind me,” she said.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s fine. I’ve got your love life to keep me distracted. See you at school.” Tina hung up, leaving Blaine awake to watch the sun rise slowly through his window. Suddenly things seemed very much back to normal.

Lunch. Sam had sent out the messages this morning, and he held his breath as he sent the second ones out now. He was sitting in his usual spot, classroom empty. Their Nationals trophy seemed to be staring at him as he waited.

Eventually he heard footsteps. Finn came in first, looking confused, followed by everyone else. Blaine, along with Tina was the last one in.

“What’s this about, Trouty Mouth?” Kitty asked.

“Well, I had something to say and it’s important, so I thought all of you hearing it would be a good idea,” he said. “Okay so, ever since senior year started it’s felt like there’s this… pressure to be perfect, right? Like with the Men of McKinley calendar and everyone looking at our bodies, and trying to decide who the new Rachel would be. Some of us have made huge mistakes, and some of us are really, really scared of leaving this place.” Sam looked at Blaine and Tina for a second, before looking back at the general crowd. “I know I’ve made mistakes, and I know I’m terrified of what’s going to happen when we all leave. But there’s been one person that made it feel like everything was sort of going to work out.

I’m not the best with words, but I’ve realized that this person… I love him. I didn’t mean to. I loved this amazing girl who gave me all the love in the world, but things happened and this is where we are. You guys are the most important people in my life, and I really hope that you feel the same way.” Sam took a beat, watching as everyone stared back at him. “I like girls, and I like guys. This is who I am and I make no apologies.”

No one said anything.

“Artie, are you tearing up?” Tina asked.

“What? No,” he said, turning his face away from her.

Sam looked to Brittany for her reaction. Whatever it was, he couldn’t tell. Silent support?

“I love you too, Sam,” Blaine said. He wasn’t expecting it. Blaine stood, moving to stand beside him. “You didn’t have to do this, though.”

“I wanted to. For me,” he said.

“As long as you don’t start singing, Evans,” Kitty said, “Congratulations.”

It seemed like they all moved in for a group hug at that moment simultaneously. Marley’s arm wrapped around his chest as Finn held onto his shoulder. Blaine was still by his side, Brittany standing next to him and looping their arms together.

They didn’t say anything else. They didn’t need to.

The last week of high school. How did Blaine get here? He had no idea. Everything after Sadie Hawkins seemed to pass in a blur. They’d lost Regionals, which had been devastating. Blaine cried for days afterwards, sobbing into Sam’s shirt and sharing sad calls with Tina.

They moved on, though. University acceptances came through. Tina got into Brown, Blaine got into CalArts. He and Sam were looking at apartments in Santa Monica almost everyday after school.

Now Blaine stood at his locker, a storage box under his arm as he took his things out. The photo of him, Tina and Sam making silly faces was still on the back of his door, along with the  photo of him and Sam smiling in the music room. There were also new photos, added in the last six months. One that Artie had taken when him, Blaine, Sam and Tina had all visited Pirate Pete’s the first day of spring. Sam had mushed his strawberry cone into Blaine’s cheek and was kissing it off in the photo.

Another one, from when Mike returned to Lima as a surprise for Valentine’s day. Tina had called that night at Breadstix their “Blamified double date.”

All the way in the back, behind musty textbooks was a photo someone on the yearbook committee had given Blaine, but kept out of the hard copy. She’d caught a photo of him and Sam dancing at Sadie Hawkins that night.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Sam came up from behind him, now standing in front of him, arm leaning against another locker.

“Clearing out my stuff,” Blaine said. “What’s up?”

“You, me and Tina. Movie night tonight,” he said. “I promised her we’d actually watch it this time.”

Blaine smiled, laughing. He pulled the last of his photos down, putting them in the box. “ You promised. I didn’t,” he said.

“Fact,” Sam said. “If you happen to start kissing me, it’d be rude for me to just ignore you, right?”

“Exactly. Simple manners. Kiss etiquette,” Blaine said. He closed his locker, putting the box under his arm as Sam wrapped one around his shoulders.

“Wait, is that an actual thing?” he asked.

“You know what, I’m not sure.”

What Blaine did know, though, was that he was feeling warm. He was fairly sure it wasn’t because of the sun.