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So, the thing was: Things were different.
He still wasn’t sure exactly how, but it felt like he was getting there.
It sure as hell involved Blaine.
Something was simply different. When he looked at his bro, something was just... different. But he still couldn’t put his finger on what.
Yeah, since Kurt called off the ill-advised engagement once and for all and after the mandatory grieving time afterwards (when Blaine was just too depressed to care much about much of anything anyways), he put himself together, started to dress as himself again, started working out with him on their local gym and gradually started to go easier on the hair gel, so he knew he looked different than before.
But it still wasn’t that.
He looked more like himself than ever, Sam thought. But it wasn’t that.
So, it sure had to do with B, but it wasn’t him.
Maybe it was himself.
Yeah, that made sense, actually.
So, it was with himself and about Blaine. But what, exactly?
…Oh.
He got his answer on a Friday night where Blaine decided to stay home to have their Epic Mario Kart Faceoff rather than go out to some club with his friends from work.
He got home looking rather tired and kinda pissed off about some work thingy he wasn’t sure he understood.
So, Blaine came taking off his jacket and unconsciously setting free his curls out of their gel prison, pacing around in front of the TV and the movie he was actually kinda trying to watch. And he really really tried to understand what had happened to let his bro so pissed, but seeing the shorter man like that, all he could really concentrate on was how all that angry-undone look looked totally kinda really hot on him.
…Oh.
So the thing that was different was that he found his best bro totally hot now. In a completely non-platonic non-objective way (since, objectively, he always knew that fact).
But now… Now that fact made him feel all weird and tingly inside.
… Oh.
“B…?” – he interrupted Blaine mid-rant, looking at his friend with a mild freaked out expression on, what made the brunette drop the whole complaining thing at once, parking his own (pert, round and wasn't Tina right: perfect) ass beside Sam’s on the house couch, looking worried.
“What? What is it Sam? I’m so, so sorry…Did something happened?”
“Yeah, it totally did. I just realized that I find you hot.” – he blurted out before he could think better of it.
“Y-… What?” – Blaine whispered back, looking like he really, really believed he had suffered a mild stroke right now.
“NO-What? Nothing! I have to-…go. Yeah, I totally have to go... Right now.”
“Go-? Go where?”
“To… sleep! I’m totally super duper tired and not at all responsible for my words right now, so… sleep. Yeah. Right… now…”
“But it’s like eight o’clock.”
“Suuuuper duper ultra tired man, c’mon…”
“…All right?... So... no Epic Mario Kart Faceoff?”
“Tired, bro!”
“Okay…? G’night Sammy.”
“Night B. Love you!”
“Wh-at?...”
…Shit.
-x-
Ok… what the hell was that? He thought to himself after making an impression of a street vending burrito with his comforter.
He really had the hots for Blaine now?
How that even worked? The guy was his bestest best bro. They were like Wolverine and Cyclops, but better.
He totally was the person he wanted to go to when he had a crappy day, like that day with the photoshoot where the main model decided to apparently hate him for no reason and made the whole day miserable to everybody involved. Or that time when he got propositioned on the hotel reception he was waiting for Kitty and Marley, for a guy (old enough to me his father) who took his as a hooker for some reason.
Blaine had a way to keep him sane.
And he also was the first person he wanted to share his achievements too, these days. Like his first real paycheck, or that time where he nailed at the arm-wrestling challenge that was going on in that bar. Or that other time where they were watching that quiz show and he got the answer of some weird-hard question right. Or the first time he saw his picture on a magazine (even if it was on the background).
Blaine was Important, capital I.
Maybe even the most important person in his life, actually.
And even if he totally was capable to know when a guy was hot, he never thought about any of those like that.
Like, it didn’t even matter that Blaine was a dude. He was perfect just the way he was: strong jawline and eyebrows and dark body hair and flat chest (or some pecks now, let’s be fair) and the eventual five o’clock shadow around his jaw on long or hard days and that marked V of his Adonis belt, framing his tummy, going all the way down...
He never noticed before, but he totally checked out B’s package before too. Because, thinking about it now, he even knew the outline of the guy’s junk in his underwear.
Oh…
He felt his face start to burn and his stomach do a impressive flip at that thought.
What did that even mean? Was he bisexual then? Or was that only a Blaine-thing?
He couldn’t think of a single dude he really looked at twice, even when he knew them to be obviously hot. Not really.
…Appreciate a guy’s contoured muscles was checking them out?
He worked with underwear models! How could he not appreciate the general attractiveness?
God, was he having a big kinda-gay freak-out?
He needed some sleep after all.
His head was starting to hurt.
-x-
…He was totally having a not-really-straight-after-all freak-out.
When he woke up that morning, the first thing he did was to drop his utilitarian mug (not his superhero themed one, thank God) to the ground when he looked around and saw Blaine enter the kitchen, bare chested, hair still damp and sleeping pants hanging low in his compact and really nice body; V shape all out and proud.
Yep, totally not-really-straight.
“Oh my God Sam, are you all right?” – he watched with a sense of dread Blaine come to him and go down on his knees, face right in front of his junk, to pick the ruined mug shreds.
“Ye-no-yeah… I’m great, u-hum…” – Sam answered almost manically, looking at his friend with big rounded eyes.
“Ahm… You’re sure you’re ok? Cause you’re looking kinda freaked out?” – he paused his picking-up-the-shreds asking him that with a soft, warm voice, eyes big and hazel and all pretty-looking, looking at him from this suggestive angle that made him dry swallow and promptly choke on his own spit. – “Sam!”
“Fine-.yeah-.fine!” – he tried to reply mid coughing fit, feeling his face become more and more red from shame and asphyxiation.
God…
But Blaine, being the totally awesome person he is, stood up, took him by the arm and made him sit on their couch while making those soothing circular motions with his hand on his back.
“Ok now?”
“Yeah…”
“Sam, you’re acting weird. Why are you acting weird? Did someone tried to give you money for sex again? Cause I said it already, sex workers don’t have a specific face and you totally don’t look like one” – he tried to comfort the blond. – “…Even if what I just said on those two sentences kinda contradict each other. Which it does, doesn't it?”
“No B, no one tried to pay me for sex this time.”
“…You had to work again with that guy that wanted to dehydrate you to see your pecs better?”
“No-. I think he got arrested for something, actually.”
“Well, that’s not that surprising, is it?” – stated the brunette, taking a seat beside him. – “But then… What happened?”
“I’m having a big gay freak-out.” – he blurted out (again before he could think), watching helplessly his friend freeze at that, then look at him with a deer caught in the headlights kind of blindsided expression.
“Y-what?” – he tried to say, voice so small slow and surprised that Sam felt bad for him. And he was the one having a not-strictly-straight-after-all freak-out here.
“Am having a big gay freak-out. Well… not gay-gay exactly, still dig girls just fine, but…”
“You think you…You think you’re, like, bisexual or something?”
“I am Blainesexual, that's for sure. The other dudes I'm not that sure yet.”
“You-... what?”
“B, are you ok? You're the one looking kinda funny now.”
“I think I’m having hallucinations again. Till how old a guy can discover if he has schizophrenia?”
“Dude, c'mon you saw in that TEDx that not every person that has schizophrenia have to have hallucinations and one of the first symptoms you see on a person is social withdrawal. I know you didn't want to go out yesterday, but you're, like, the most sociable person I know.”
“Yeah, you're right... it's prejudiced and inconsiderate of me to say something like that, playing light with something as serious as mental health.” – he shook his curly head, making the still damp ringlets of hair bounce in a ridiculously adorable way. – “I'm just going plain crazy"
“B!”
“I'm hearing things Sam!”
“Is this about the me totally thinking you're hot and freaking-out about it thing? Cause I totally said that.”
“Y-... But-...”
“Big not-really-that-straight-after-all freak-out, B!" – he pointed out with his ‘isn't it obvious’ voice, which earned him a mild glare from his very confused best friend before he started to breathe again. Which was a relief.
It would be hard, trying to make things happen with a dead Blaine.
Wait- that sounded all kinds of wrong and disturbing.
Anyway. Back to the point.
“Kiss me.” – he turned to the smaller man, who now looked like a deer caught in the headlights alright.
“Wh-No!” – he answered in a squeak, getting out of the couch so fast it looked like he was ejected from it.
Sam could just look at him crestfallen. – “You don't want to anymore? I thought you still wanted to do me, I mean, I saw you checking out my ass last time I scrubbed the bathroom floor.”
“God I can't believe you saw that.”
“I'm working this ass out extra hard, bro. The appreciation is welcome.”
“Oh God...”
“So... why not?”
“Because-!...” – said back, clearly mortified and mildly panicked. – “Because you are just confused and if I ever have a chance to kiss you, it'll not involve morning breath!”
“... Good point. That'd steal some spark from the moment.”
“Not my point Sam – but yeah, it would.”
“Easy fix: I can go right now and brush my teeth extra clean and we can go for it, or... we could make our bro-date today a date-date. Then I'll kiss you and you'll be sure I'm not confused. Because I'm not. Not just, at least. Cause I am confused about it, but not about the you thing. You're giving me butterflies man.”
“I am?” – the other boy’s eyes softened at that, making his point about the butterflies for him.
“Yeah. Like, right now.” – he answered, putting his arms around his middle, remembering what Britt said about the butterflies making them fly away if they were too strong. Blaine gave him the biggest butterfly case ever. – “So, date-date tonight?”
“Sam, I don't know what to say...”
“A Yes?”
“I wanted this for the longest time...”
“Oh... there's a but there isn't it? ... You're seeing someone.”
“No.”
“I'm hot but not successful or smart enough to be boyfriend material.”
“Wh-the-? No! You're doing fine modeling and you are plenty smart Sam don't start with that again.”
“You're getting back with Kurt yet again and I lost my chance.”
“Definitely not. That ship has sunk. We're definitely better off as friends now.”
“Then what?” – asked the blonde exasperated, throwing his arms up.
“It's just-... Isn't it too soon for you to be sure about it? You were freaking out, like, 5 minutes ago over it and now you're asking me out!”
“Worst case of butterflies ever, B!”
“Since, what, yesterday? That's a crush thing. Crushes pass.”
“Well, yours didn't! And more, you already are my favorite person in the world! I already love you we are totally awesome together and now I want to do you too. That's perfect.”
“You do...?” – the other asked, glassy-eyed.
“If you kissed me I would be sure and you'd have proof.”
“But and if it doesn't work, Sam?”
“...You think it could not work?”
“Every relationship has its risks and dating it's so much harder than friendship...”
“So... You think it's not worth the risk.”
“That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that all's still too new for you- for us. We should talk about it. Think things through.”
“Ok.” – he agreed, tapping the seat beside him for Blaine, who sited down again with a boyish shyness that made his heart do some funny stuff. – “You're right, we should totally talk. So, tell me, what's scaring you so much about it?”
“Sam, I came home yesterday really mad and wanted to vent with you. So I talk and then, out of nowhere, you start to look at me like I've grown a second head and then you start to say – still looking completely freaked out, may I add –, that I’m hot? And then you bailed on me and our Epic Mario Kart Faceoff. And now this. Sam you where freaking-out not 5 minutes ago. And now you want me to kiss you? What am I supposed to think?”
“Putting like that it all sounds weird and senseless.”
“Yeah, it really does, Sam.”
“Ok... so, I knew something was different. Knew it for a while, actually. And I knew it had to do with you, but not what. I couldn't put my finger on what was it, but I knew I've been feeling it for a long time. Like, before the last Kurt-break up, even, but specially after. I knew you looked different to me and I started to understand: the difference was on how I saw you. But yesterday was when it hit me that what was so different was that I didn't just knew you were hot. I knew-knew. Like pissed-off-like-that-he-looks-so-hot-I-wonder-if-he-would-please-push-me-against-the-wall-and-have-his-way-with-me knew. So: big kinda-gay freak-out.” – he explained slowly, wondering what exactly did he said to make Blaine sit all hunched forward like that, without noticing what that whole push against the wall and have his way bit did to the still young and hormonal man. – “Hey B... You're not upset with me for wanting to do you too now, are you?”
“Jeez Sam, do you have to put it like that?” – the brunet complained with a pitiful whine, looking miserably to the other man. – “Ok... so not a guy's thing exactly. Is more of a...”
“You-thing, I think. I don't know. Knowing when a guy is hot counts as gay?”
“...I don't think so?... At least not if it doesn't do anything for you, I mean.”
“Oh! So, like, last time we tried to binge watch LotR and you parked your ass in front of the TV, bending down right on my face because we had just lost the remote and you were trying to lower the volume; if I got a boner then, it counts?”
“Oh my God...”
“What?...”
“Sam, you're going to kill me.” – he whined again, bringing his legs closer to him and sitting crisscrossed and covering himself with a throw pillow. – “Please stop talking about sex stuff.”
“I'm a red-blooded man, dude!”
“Do you even think you're ready for that?”
“If you just kissed me-!”
“I'm not going to kiss you for you to freak out, Sam!”
“Oh for God's s-... Wait up.”
The blonde stood up, and ran to the bathroom, making good on his promise to brush thoroughly his teeth, before going back.
Coming closer, he could see that Blaine was still on the sofa. Unmoved, looking the opposite wall with a slightly dazed expression.
“Right, I'm ready.” – he announced, opening his arms.
But the smaller man just looked back at him, still slightly dazed-looking.
“You're really serious about this?”
“Yep.”
“Because I really don't want to jeopardize our friendship, Sam. You're too important.”
“B, nothing is going to change. At least nothing we don't want to. I promise you; I won't freak out. Then you promise me that you won't just up and leave without an explanation when someone better comes by, and I promise you back that even if you do, I will always be your friend and you can always count on me no matter what.”
“Better than you? You're the best, Sam. There's not topping that.”
“... Well, I didn't give that much thought about the butt stuff, but I'm not opposed to try it out.”
“Fuck.”
“What? You're the one taking about topping me!”
“I didn't mean sexually!”
“Wait-, why not? My ass looks amazing now, right? Why wouldn't you want to tap that?”
“Ooh Jeez... Think about the mailman...”
“Why? Is he hot or something? Or- you want me to dress like a sexy mailman? Isn't it a bit early for sexy roleplay? I mean, we didn't even kiss...”
“Sam! You're giving me a boner!”
“What? Like, right now?”
“Yes!”
“Can I see?”
“No!”
“... Why not? I mean, I want to get better acquainted with it anyways.”
“We didn't even kiss!”
“Then kiss me damn it! You're the one making things complicated even though I'm the one that's going through the big gay revelation thingy!”
“Ok…Can we slow things down a bit?”
“More?...” – asked the blonde, dropping his shoulders disheartened.
“Please?” – Blaine asked softly, looking at him with those puppy-eyes for which he was a complete sucker. – “It’s all going too fast. Did you even stop to make sure how you’re feeling about all this?”
“Right now? Frustrated and a bit desperate. You really won’t kiss me? Cause if you don’t I’ll suffer a weirdly minty-tasted breakfast for nothing.”
“Sam…”
“I’m not asking for tongue or anything! Sure, that’d be nice if you wanted -, but we totally can keep things clean.” – Sam offered sincerely, pausing to think for a second before pointing at the brunette’s lap. – “At least as clean as we can with a boner involved.”
“God…” – groaned Blaine, covering his reddening face with both hands, mortified.
“Nothing against your boner; I believe maybe the opposite, actually. You’re the one not letting me see it. But… like I said: little kiss, no tongue, we keep it innocent. So…? What do you think?”
Blaine lifted his head from between his fingers, looking still embarrassed, but so vulnerable and hopeful too that his heart made that funny thing again while the butterflies tried to make him fly away.
God he really was so completely gone for him.
“Are you really comfortable with all of this?”
“Well, I think so? I'm not freaking out right now. I think the biggest reason I was had to do with the fact that I wasn't sure how you'd take it. Now I'm cool.” – said him earnestly, smiling encouragingly, before he stopped for a moment, pensive. – “… Maybe not ready for the butt stuff yet, but I'm completely down with a kiss.”
“Jeez-, please stop talking about anal sex Sam” – the shorter boy asked in a pained voice, closing his eyes with a wince. – “You're not helping me here.”
“Wait-, you won't kiss me, but you want a hand job? You're making me confused, B!”
“Oh my Jesus-!... I-I can’t-. I can't! I-I'll take a cold shower.” – exclaimed the brunette, standing up exasperated, still holding the throw pillow against his groin.
“You want a hand job on a cold shower? But that's totally a bonerkill!”
The boy stood there, just looking at him.
“…What?”
“I had no idea how dirty your mind was.”
“Hey! You're the one talking about butt sex and hand jobs! Why I'm the naughty one?”
“Okay, let's try it again: no sex talk, all right? No oral, anal or intercrural sex. No hand jobs, no under clothing action. Nothing below the belt. No talking about dicks, ok? I can't think straight with you making my mind dive into the gutter, Sam. And I can't not freak out about it, it's too soon for all that.”
“Alright. No problem, we take it slow if that's what you need B. I'll not pressure you. I want you, but I want you happy more.”
“So you really have feelings for me?” – Blaine asked again, unconsciously emulating his words that day in the locker room, a lifetime ago.
He would never tell, but he had that Phil Collins song saved on his phone and would wish for Blaine’s voice every time he heard it. His new guilty pleasure.
“I really really do.”
“… I have feelings for you too, Sam.”
“Ooh thank God… Uf!… I was getting kind of angsty here, bro! I mean, we established you want t-, I mean…feel…attracted to me” – he paused, searching for the other’s approval of his wording before continuing. – “But I kinda really love the idea of taking your hand when we feel like it and of falling asleep next to you. I like the idea of finishing our domestics about the clutter I leave around the house or you still putting the milk in the fridge’s door shelf, even though I showed you that article about proper conservation at least 5 times already, with a kiss. Or of a good morning kiss. I don’t even care about the morning breath, but I would suffer weirdly minty breakfast for the rest of my life to be able to kiss you first thing in the morning if that’s a deal breaker for you. I love the idea that I'll be able to tell you you're beautiful every time this fact crosses my mind. And that I’ll give you Valentine's cards, and that we’ll have an anniversary-!.. I really think that can work, B. That we can work. ”
“Sam…”
“You’re crying, B? Why are you crying?”
“Cause I want all that too. I know it’s too soon, but I’ve kind of been at least half in love with you for such a long time.”
“You have?”
“Yeah... And, and I thought I was launching myself at you because I had all this love in me that Kurt didn’t wanted anymore and then I convinced myself that to get over it I had to go after what I really wanted. And at the time, I convinced myself that was Kurt and clung to that. And I loved him. I really did. But it wasn’t right anymore. We were kids falling in love, but we grew up and apart and we didn’t fit together anymore. But I feel… I feel like we fit. I always felt like that. I don’t even have to try, it’s just natural. I’ve never been more myself with anyone. I just never thought I had any chance. Before.”
“I feel so stupid, Blaine. Cause I feel that too. I don’t know since when, but I do. And I feel like if I had noticed before- If I knew-…”
“No no no… You don’t have to feel-. I mean, we know when we know, right? There’s no rushing these things of the heart.”
“I guess…”
“So… You still want to go on a date with me today?”
“We’ll keep our plans?”
“You think we should?”
“I mean, movie night is kind of romantic when is not a bro-night. I’ll cook the best pasta in the world, we open that wine you brought… That’s romantic, right?” – he could see it already, dimmed lights, maybe candles, the two of them eating in the living room table, sitting over the plush rug Blaine loved so much. He’d have to be extra careful not to spill any whine or tomato sauce over it, but it’d be worth it. – “Then, we cuddle over the couch and you’ll finally kiss me.”
“I can kiss you now, if you still want to.” – the other replied shyly, looking at him from over his lashes.
And, God, there wasn’t anything in the world he wanted more.
“Yeah… Yeah I do…”
They shared their first kiss there, with Blaine dropping the throw pillow in benefit of putting his ands over his chest before leaning in to touch his pretty lips over his own.
And it wasn’t life changing or anything except for how it was.
“…I can talk about sex stuff now?”
“No-.”
And they were right. They fit.
Dating was hard work and compromise, but they made it work.
Oh boy they really, really did.
T.E.