sam.

       Wasn’t that kinda the problem? For the good of Kurt, yeah. It made sense. He supported it. But the rest of it? It really freaking sucked. Sam had rallied in Kurt’s corner and supported him when the rest of New Directions tapped out, even if it didn’t go according to plan, and he’d always liked him but… Blaine getting involved made it all messy. They knew each other and letting on like they were just… Two dudes who went to the same school? Putting on a front to the world? Lying was exhausting, but it didn’t compare to how exhausting it was seeing the both of them together.

       “Yeah, just when no one’s looking’.” Sam shrugged, though the defeat in his tone almost counteracted how harsh his words came out. It was hurt. It felt like he was playing a spy half the time, which in retrospect should have felt a lot cooler, but it really didn’t. James Bond just had to kick a lot of ass and hook up with a lot of girl’s with unfortunately slutty names, he didn’t have to worry about the emotional terrorism that came with it. Even if Sam should have been used to that by now considering his dating history.

       “You know, this really sucks.” Sam finally admitted with a huff, eyes raising back to Blaine’s as his arms crossed against his chest, his back pressed against the cool brick of McKinley. Glee Club had let out an hour ago and he’d waited until Kurt and Blaine were done doing whatever lovesick duet they’d rented out the auditorium for. You know, for extra practice. Sam wasn’t sure that wasn’t code for emotional handjobs, or at the very least empty auditorium make outs.

     “When we did this ‘For the good of Kurt’,” The air quotes came as his arms uncurled from his chest, a dramatic flare that quietly highlighted how frustrated he was with the situation, “I thought it was gonna be for the better. Helping people usually makes you feel better, but this?This doesn’t feel like helpin’ people. This feels like lying and the end of cancer movies and chick flicks when the one person dies and they do that stupid slow montage of all the happy moments. But you can’t be happy. Cause they’re dead.” The point was kind of getting lost in frustration. Sam sighed, shaking his head and pushing off the wall and past Blaine, “I just don’t know what the point of letting you in anymore is when it just hurts. It doesn’t feel like us.”

Keys in hand, the former Warbler cut through the back of the school towards the street he had to park on after missing any available space since he’d started his commute late.  He was on a high from performing, face flush and a pep to his step that always followed after glee club practices with Kurt.  Honestly, it was what he needed.  The entire situation where he couldn’t quite meet someone’s eyes during the parts of the songs Mr. Schue had them singing next to one another was about as mentally exhausting as coming face to face with the reality this move was going to be a hell of a lot harder than he originally thought.  But.  He was trying to put his hesitation behind him.  To move past the part where he woke up and immediately reached for the crimson and navy tie still hanging from the back of the chair in his room.  Then felt a hollow ache in his belly when he realized bow ties were, once again, his go to accessory.

They were trying, too.  Their secret was so much easier to keep when he was at Dalton and Sam was a distant presence always in the back of his mind and a town away but not near enough to have to see and be reminded of every day.  Pretending they were strangers while, basically, living like they were didn’t come with the buckets of guilt he had to swallow every. single. day. now that he was at McKinley.  Thinking what it was doing to Sam, feeling what it was doing to himself?  Pretty soon something had to give.  Or one of them was going to snap in half.

Blaine just hadn’t realized today might be that day.  Maybe it’s because he was banking on himself being the one to finally break and say or do something he’d regret two seconds after he did the thing.  Sam was always so patient.  So kind.  And from what was starting to become painfully obvious and simultaneously grate on Blaine’s nerves, so willing to help everyone else that he didn’t realize some people were close to leaving scuff marks on his back from where they wiped their feet on their way across it.  Of the two of them who would be the one to unleash an outburst? Hopefully when it was just the two of them and not in front of the whole glee club including Kurt.  He would have betted it was going to be himself.  Hands down. Not..

Sam waiting for him after he’d walked Kurt to his car and kissed him goodbye caught Blaine off guard.  Catching him standing against the wall directly in the path it was obvious Blaine would have to take from the auditorium to get to his car could only mean one thing.  He was waiting for him.  For a little over an hour.  Blaine came to a halt, his keys rattled as he balled them up in a fist to steady himself.  Two minutes after an awkward hello and Sam not answering his question on if he waited for him (obvious answers didn’t need out loud ones), Blaine said the only thing he could think of.  Turns out?  Probably the wrong thing..

By the time he was done listening, Blaine could have told you exactly which white rivets of his navy boat shoes had too many scuffs, which ones looked brand new, and how many cracks were in the pavement underneath them, too.  But he managed to catch hold of Sam’s wrist before he could get too far away from him with a quick reach and a stubborn refusal to let go.  “I’m not dead.  I’m right here.  That’s what I am trying to say.  We don’t have to hide this much.  I’m sorry.  This is messed up. I don’t know how to fix it.  I just..please, Sam?  Wait..?”