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“Dude, the point of a bros day out is that you spend it with your bro.” Sam pointed out, elbowing a dazed Blaine in his side.
“Ouch, that hurts,” Blaine rubbed at the area Sam jabbed, “and I am spending it with you. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, your body is here, but!” He tapped at Blaine’s forehead, making Blaine scrunch his face, “your mind isnt. I know that you just got married and all, but dude, stop thinking about your man’s perky behind for a moment?”
“I am not thinking about his as you so eloquently put it, perky behind.” Blaine huffed as they rounded the corner into the shopping centre.
“Oh, as if thinking about his front any less distracting,” Sam droned, earning a smack on his arm.
“Sam Evans, you don’t say such things in public!”
“Okay okay, but I missed hanging out with you! I want my best friend back.” Sam heaved a sigh and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Things with Rachel have been rough and I really want to just talk to you and stuff my face with cake.”
Blaine immediately softened, a twinge of guilt tugging at his heart. He had been so caught up with everything lately, getting married to Kurt, going on their honeymoon, and then the news of Dalton burning down and then the their joined choir and sectionals, it had been a crazy few weeks and he ended up neglecting his best friend.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. You have my full attention now though, and I actually have a better idea!” He grinned, looping his arm with Sam’s and tugging him to the direction of the supermarket instead.
“What’s a better idea than eating a lot of cake?” Sam complained as Blaine took a basket from the entrance.
He turned back to see Sam’s pout and he couldn’t hold back another smile.
“Baking one, of course.”
“Hey Blaine?”
“Yeah?”
“Was I supposed to add half a teaspoon of salt or half a tablespoon of salt?”
“Half a teaspoon.” Blaine answered, taking the eggs out from the fridge and setting them on the table next to the bowls. He saw the look on Sam’s face and then looked down at the tablespoon in his hand. “Oh god.”
“I swear I heard tablespoon!” Sam cringed, “maybe it won’t make that big of a difference!”
Blaine shot him a fond look and shook his head. “Okay next step, set the flour mixture aside and cream the butter and sugar.”
There was a pause and the both of them stared at each other.
“I just remembered that we don’t have a mixer here.” Blaine blushed. “Gotta do it by hand then. Go put those muscles to good use, Sam!”
“What? Why me! I’m a football coach. I use my muscles a lot, Blaine. It’s your time to shine.” Sam nodded to himself.
“Oh trust me, my muscles have had plenty of use in the past few weeks.” He snorted, ignoring the cheeky look Sam shot him and the blush that creeping up his cheeks.
They ended up taking turns to cream the butter and sugar, but even then they had to argue which one went first. So they decided to do it the most mature way possible: scissors, paper, stone style.
“Blaine, my arm hurts!”
“Suck it up, Evans!”
“My arm is about to fall off, and trust me, Kurt will be very unhappy about this, Sam.”
“Kick it up a notch, Anderson-Hummel, you’re all apple juice and no cake!”
“You’ve been clearly spending too much time with Coach Beiste.”
The cake didn’t turn out that half bad actually, and true to his word, Sam shoveled most of it down his mouth and blurted out to Blaine the troubles that have been surfacing in his relationship with Rachel. Through all of it, Blaine just nodded and listened silently, patting his friend on the back and letting out sympathetic noises when he couldn’t help it.
At the end of it, Blaine wordlessly pulls Sam into a hug, swaying side to side awkwardly from the position they were sitting on the couch. “I’m sorry that you’re feeling the way you are.”
“Nah, it’s alright. I’m just glad that I can talk to you about it.” Sam hums back, hugging tighter, “the Blonde Chameleon and Nightbird are back!”
“Ready to kick butt and save the world.”
“But first, a cuddle party.”
When Kurt came back home from a long day of working on extra practices with the New Directions, the last thing he expected was to see Blaine and Sam cuddled together on the couch watching cartoons.
“Kurt, you’re home!” Blaine grinned, making grabby hands at him.
“Is this something I should be worrying about?” Kurt teased as he walked over and pecked a kiss to Blaine’s cheek, “are you flirting with my husband, Samuel Evans?”
“Wouldn’t dare try it.” Sam raised his hands in surrender and Kurt chuckled, throwing a cushion at him.
“You want to stay for dinner, Sam?” He asked, snuggling comfortably on Blaine’s shoulder, “I’m making fettuccine alfredo.”
“Is that the yummy white one?”
“Yes, Sam, it’s the yummy white one.” Kurt chuckled, standing up and heading to the kitchen.
“Can I have two portions?” Sam asked excitedly, and Blaine hurriedly added on a “me too!”
Kurt, who was used to their antics by now, simply shook his head and let out a laugh, reaching into the cabinet for the extra large bag of pasta.
“Of course.”