sam.

         Okay yeah. It wasn’t the smartest idea to get drunk, but he hadn’t started with the goal in mind. Hell, it was even LESS smart to get plastered on a school night but one thing lead to another and… Why did it even matter? The cool thing about looking up at the stars? Well, it usually made his problems seem not so big, and remind him that there were SO many more things out there. Planets, stars, galaxies, aliens, parallel universes, black holes, just… All of it. But tonight, every time he looked up at the stars, it just reminded him of Blaine. Of all the times they’d slip out here with an iPod, some snacks, and… Each other. Sometimes they had nothing but themselves, sometimes they’d come prepared with a blanket or a pizza. God, why did that even matter?

          Every stupid thought came back to Blaine. And more importantly the reason they couldn’t be together. For the good of Kurt. Every time he thought of it, he felt a little more bitter. At first that hadn’t been the case, but bitterness was a sign of jealousy and jealousy was a sign he cared. At least that’s what his mom’s Women Magazine said, or was it the YahooAsk he’d pulled up? Didn’t matter now. Sam huffed, shaking his head in disbelief at his phone, an audible ‘Pfft’,  “Trust isn’t the issue, Blaine.” He muttered to himself, though at this point issues were going to have issues, but the source of them all boiled down to the same thing. 

         “There’s nothing I woul

—

“ Sam jumped, hand shooting out from his side and knocking over the half full bottle of ABSOLUT, which rolled before falling to the grass with a slosh and thud. “JESUS

—” His phone, in the commotion had flown out of his hand and flew into the dewy grass, and said hand was now over his heart as his chest heaved. “Blaine, GOD,  warn me next time.” He hadn’t even finished reading his texts and just.. “You planned that?!” Maybe it was the primarily silent park, or the fact he’d been alone UNDISTURBED, for over an hour that the appearance of the other caught him off guard, but it had taken Sam to the next level. Half stunned, half locked in an attempted Ninja reflex… 

         Shaking off what just happened didn’t come easy as he replanted himself, letting his elbows rest on his knees as his hands pushed over his face and through his hair, calming himself down with a sigh. The bright side was the flame that burned bright with anger had it’s passion misplaced in the moment of surprise, though for how long was the question. Sam’s breaths were heavy as he watched Blaine sit beside him, unfortunately having no idea what the other had just said in his panic. “I literally could have just killed you.” None of that was true considering he’d been about to end up in a tangle on the ground two seconds prior had he not caught himself. “Dude.” 

         Which sounded an awful lot like fuck.

          “Dalton doesn’t solve anything.” Putting another band-aid on top of one that already wasn’t working didn’t seem like a positive, but instead a double negative. “What good is that gonna do? We’re still gonna be here.” Sam huffed, looking down at Blaine disbelieving how he couldn’t see the full picture. Moving up off the table, he stepped down beside Blaine, then hopped off in what was supposed to be a graceful escape. The unfortunate thing was the alcohol had it’s own ideas of graceful, and Sam purely stumbled into a wobbled dismount with a bit too much speed. He turned back to Blaine, arms spanned out at his sides ready to do the talking for him should his words fail. “Do you know how hard it is looking at you, knowing it should be us? I see you and Kurt doing all these things we should be doin’ and it’s like, you don’t even care that you’re missing out on it because you’re only half in. Like, what’s it matter, you know?” 

          The hurt played out without inhibitions as Sam drunkenly explained himself, though the confidence that accompanied every word was because it very much stemmed from sober thoughts. “Like, you still get to have that with Kurt. But hey, if it doesn’t work out with him, I’m here like his understudy.” His role in the entire situation had only made that sentiment stick. “And it sucks Blaine, cause I look at you and I’m pretty sure I see my freaking soulmate, but if you don’t see that too, what am I doing? I can’t make you pick me. I can’t make you even want to pick me. Like, just tell me that’s it, tell me that you don’t want me, just tell me something that makes sense.” The last bit sounded like an actual plea in which you could hear the ache within his heart. 

Blaine gave Sam all the time he needed to recover from the way he startled him just walking up out of the dark like that.  Hindsight kicking in?  Maybe he should have warned him he was there but he didn’t want to risk Sam leaving if he could out.  Then he’d be back at square one and even if they were going to be out way too late to make it to school the next day?  He’d rather not spend another hour driving through Lima trying to spot a drunk Sam wandering around in the middle of the street.  Sneaking up was the best option once all possible outcomes were considered. Paranoid, over the top ones or not.  Scaring Sam was the most manageable one.

Telling Sam the only thing he could think of that would make this situation a tiny bit more bearable might’ve been a mistake.  Sam was quick to point out everything wrong with the notion.  While, unknowingly, saying why it was something for the best.  Their situation wouldn’t go away.  But at least?  “It’s not going to erase our problems.  I’m not saying it will.  I’m not an idiot.”  Even if he felt like the biggest one right now?  Deep down, he refused to be thought of as someone who couldn’t wrap his brain around the big picture.  Not by Sam.  Or anyone.  

Snapping his attention up at the movement beside him only to practically bolt up when Sam looked like he was going to bite it–Blaine’s muscles tensed and he was halfway off the bench before he saw Sam was steady on his feet (steady enough not to topple over anyway) and sat back down.  Keeping his distance seemed like a good idea.  Not that he didn’t trust Sam enough to be close to him.  He only figured that being any closer would be yet one more thing to hurt the other with.  “You just pointed out the reason why I should.  Can’t you see that?  Me going to McKinley every day is only hurting you worse because you have to see it.  If I wasn’t there?  At least it wouldn’t be in your face because obviously that’s a huge part of the problem.  Not all of it.  But a big one.

Reddening eyes and steepled brows followed the verbal slap in the face he, no doubt, rightfully deserved.  Even if he had no clue that Sam would ever come back.  That piecing things together and moving on was one of the hardest things he’d ever done?  Sam was hurt and he was the one that did it.  So, in Blaine’s book, taking whatever punches Sam needed to dish out was part of the guilt eating a hole inside of him.  “Your not anyone’s understudy.  Or a second choice or a back up or whatever you want to call it.  Jesus, Sam.  What kind of a person do you think I am?” Wrenching his pale knuckled grip free from the lip of the bench, Blaine palmed his mouth and wiped away several things on the tip of his tongue along with taking a pause to gather his thoughts.

Soulmates.  He should do what Sam asked.  Hurt him and tell him that he had no feelings for him whatsoever.  Doing it might be the last snap of any possible relationship he might have with him.  Friendship or something more.  But?  If he did?  It’d cut Sam free.  He could go be with Quinn or Rachel or whoever else scooped him up next.  Sam would hate him but at least he wouldn’t ache for him anymore.  The words were right there.  Bullets loaded into the gun that’d kill whatever was left of them.  Blaine’s finger was on the trigger.  And it froze.

“I can’t.”  He heard the reply in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own.  It was way too high, way too pitched.  Too broken.  “I never thought I’d see you again.  How was I supposed to know?  How am I supposed to feel?  Who am I supposed to hurt worse?  Please, Sam?  I don’t know what to do because either way?  I’m going to ruin someone.  I never wanted to hurt you or him or,” he couldn’t breathe in.  His chest burned and the coppery taste of adrenaline flooded his mouth drowning out the rest with what, no doubt, was a quickly rising panicked confusion.