Tag: p: sam

meme continuation. @samsreckoning

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     A pillow pushed between the headrest and the window made perfect place to lay his head as he listened to the twang of a guitar playing softly from the speakers on the dash.  For close to an hour, Blaine watched the desert scenery blow past the car.  Endless miles of empty landscapes marked up with dustbowl thriving cactuses and tumbleweeds from bushes that hadn’t seen water in months and didn’t seem to mind one bit.  He wasn’t sure what state they were in anymore.  Texas?  No.  They were past the state that stretched out forever.  Weren’t they?

     

The view outside the window only seemed to change by the occasional oil drill, rusted out town, or little burough in the middle of nowhere that must’ve been made into an actual place to stop by people who got stuck there somehow.  Or the sun falling and darkness so deep that it looked like the stars touched the ground if you squint hard enough to see.  But it was the perfect place to be because the world they were in with nothing but the road, a dotted yellow line and miles of nothing between them, nothing short of another planet couldn’t look anymore different from Ohio than the desert outside Bloomfield, New Mexico did as Blaine pulled the blanket that’d been pooled in his lap up over his chest and drifted off.

         He came to when the last sad guitar riffs played out with Garth’s voice singing words that dug so deep into him he couldn’t help whispering soft against the glass ghosting it in a puff of gray with the heat of his breath.  “Do you love me?”  Of course, Sam was right there.  Answering without Blaine having to repeat himself.  How many times could someone need to hear it back?  Need to hear that things were okay?  Better than okay?  They were together.  Alone.  Miles of asphalt and stars above stretching out to infinity and beyond and he still needed to hear it one more time.  Please tell me when it gets annoying.  Though Sam wouldn’t ever get annoyed by it.  Because that’s the kind of person he was.  The kind of person Blaine should have..

       

‘You know I do.’

       

They should’ve had this kind of beginning a long time ago.

        “Me neither.  Ever.”   Pinkies linked, the promise was made and sealed.  Blaine’s weight shifted towards the light tug and when their gazes connected, he nodded his thanks for the reassurance.  Sam had this strange ability to know precisely what he needed.  What tone to use, what words to say, when to touch him.  All of how he needed to be brought back to Earth came as easy as breathing to the blond.  It was a tough job to take on.  Blaine knew the initial reason why Sam slept only when he did and barely that for the first couple weeks they were gone.  Why he hid the sharp things unless they were using them to cook and why there was only pepto, dramamine and tylenol in the glovebox.  

       

He owed Sam not just his mental state but maybe he owed him for still being here to see miles of dark so thick that it looked like the stars were falling to the ground on the horizon.  Who knew if he would have done what Sam was the most terrified of?  But Blaine was beyond grateful for at least being around for the chance to wonder about it.  About life.  About stupid things like the orange glow of streetlights they were driving towards which meant the restaurant had to be within a close enough distance that it wouldn’t hurt to keep their hands laced together even though he settled back into his seat from their shoulders lightly knocking together.  

       

Out of nowhere, Blaine laughed.  It was quiet and mostly shook his shoulders and made his face light up but it was a laugh regardless. “Definitely a no bueno type situation.  I don’t think that cows are going to exist in space.  Space cows might.  What if they worship them, though?  Then no space cow hamburgers for sure.  What if it tastes weird, too?  Like chicken or fish or..who knows?  Aliens probably eat some fish flakes, like you said.  Or fruits that don’t make sense. What if they don’t eat at all?  Then what are we gonna do?”  He blinked enjoying the mindless chatter full of imagination and fantasy.  It was what got them on the silly notion to start driving West in the first place.   His mother wasn’t too thrilled with the idea but she let him.  They’d deal with the schematics later.

       

“Yeah.  Let’s stop.  We’ll get some milkshakes for dessert and coffee for the road.  I’ll drive for a while.  Let you get some sleep.  Fair enough?”  Sam wasn’t Superman.  Close but not quite past the need for sleep yet.  “While we eat we can check out the map.  See if there are any sights we need to check out in the morning between here and Nevada.  I heard there was some sort of Biggest Ball of Yarn or something like that close by.  Can’t beat Henry’s Rabbit Ranch though.  Totem Pole Park tried and failed.”  The tip of his thumb swiped back and forth over the side of Sam’s hand.  Anywhere they went was okay with him.  As long as they kept on going.

SEVEN MINUTES. { ~ sam

7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN
roll 11, needy hungry kiss

The whole lot of them went deadly silent when the bottle spun around to the blond who happened to be the only one not wearing any sort of Dalton colors whatsoever.  Blaine had asked Sam to make another trip to Westerville for the weekend.  Their conversation the last time he visited, though he was still sleepless most nights laying in bed trying to feel and remember first hand all the things Sam told him about them, gave Blaine more hope that he still was who he was before the incident.  They’d been separated by what happened that night in the worst way possible.  Short of one of them not making it.  They both did but the cost was one of them having a virtual press of the restart button on everything they were to one another.  While one got the chance to remember it all.

Still.  Blaine couldn’t get Sam out of his head from that night on.  He’d been drawn to look at every photo on his phone that Sam sent him on repeat.  Before class, after class.  Sometimes during class much to his disappointment when one of those peeks cost him his phone for the rest of the day at the beginning of the week.  Warblers practices were even becoming a distraction from the daily phone calls he made as soon as he knew classes were out at McKinley.  

Sam was a gateway.  Back to himself.  Back to everything he’d been missing.  But he was more than that, too.  Sam was a good guy.  No.  A great guy.  One that Blaine knew his life would’ve been much darker without.  Even if he was left in the dark of who he was to him for the rest of his life?  It’d been a life much more cloudy and not so happy without Sam Evans in it.  No matter where he got his new beginning, the footing wouldn’t have been as steady without Sam there to have his back.  It was only logical that the very next weekend, Blaine wouldn’t take no for an answer when he extended the invite.  Thankfully, Sam made sure he didn’t have to by jumping at the chance to join them.

By late Saturday night, the party had lead them to this moment.  Blaine’s fingers shook as he reached back and shut the closet door.  Still not a peep.  Not a whisper from the peanut gallery of Warblers and girls from Crawford Country Day that’d cackled for each pairing up until now.  What did they all know?  What did they see?  Surely their silence had to mean more than the simple fact that Blaine always seemed to change the subject when it came to who his first kiss was.  Not only because of him possibly not remembering it but because he was pretty sure it never happened.  Or did it?  Another one of those late night thoughts.

Here they were now.  Alone.  Just the two of them.  Blaine could hear himself swallow, hear the sound of his throat working against the pounding of his heart thudding in his eardrums. “Sammy,” he found his hand in the dark and in one single motion had their fingers tangled together.  All the want and ache that’d been building up since he was told the truth had him bursting at the seams.  His heels were off the ground and he didn’t hesitate, not even a flinch, before he captured Sam’s lips with his own. If only to pour out a little bit of the emotions that were threatening to swallow him up if he didn’t let go of them.  He had to take a chance.  Had to know what it was like.  If it ended in a second, it ended.  But at least he could rest having tried to give it his all and he did.

“Do you love me?”

samsreckoning:

           OF COURSE HE DID. Things had gotten pretty complicated lately though. Like really complicated. Not in a bad way, well, kind of in a bad way. Sam wanted to say it was all Kurt’s fault, but like, it was kind of Blaine’s fault too even if THIS was WAY over the fucking line of acceptable payback… because this? This was pretty fucked up and NO ONE (especially Blaine) deserved to feel like they didn’t exist. Or like they weren’t worth remembering because man, he had paid his dues. He’d always went above and beyond for everyone but no one ever went above and beyond for him. 

        So for that, Sam was the BUZZ LIGHTYEAR to his WOODY, just like, a whole lot more gay right now. Er, maybe it was more of a Brokeback situation than it was Toy Story, maybe that wasn’t that great of an example after all. “You know I do.” That wasn’t even something that should have been a question but he knew why Blaine was asking. Kurt pretty much pulled the ground out from underneath him and now it was a one way ticket to Constant Reassurance-ville and most people would get frustrated with it, sure … But most people didn’t take a second to understand why Kurt’s punch to his heart was the crushing blow that threatened to send him floating away like the last ten minutes of Infinity War; which collectively shattered his heart, and yet that? That didn’t even come close to what seeing Blaine like this did. 

        THEIR FIRST KISS had … Been a connection tactic; something to ground him, bring him back from the abyss. Counteract the one the fucking dementor had placed on him. Something to make him feel, give him something to lock onto. Remind him he wasn’t alone and that he was loved because Blaine was his best friend, his bro of all bros. The Ash to his Brock. REMIND HIM that there was more to the world than Kurt Hummel, who Sam admired greatly and loved, but there was no denying what he did was UNACCEPTABLY FUCKED and he would never, ever side with him on that. He got proper brain damage to forget him. Like, who let someone tinker around in their head? Did he not SEE what happened to Bucky Barnes? Okay,of course he didn’t because Kurt wouldn’t watch a Marvel movie on his own, but it was killing him to think that it was still okay for anyone to do that. 

        “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Blaine. Pinky promise.” To which his was brandished out, stretching across over to him, where he sat in the passenger’s side. A week had … Turned into a month and a half and his mom was going to kill him. Burt was not going to kill him; but he was gonna get a long lecture being responsible and stuff, and he hoped Kurt was gonna get an even longer lecture about not being a jackass and just Eternal Sunshine’ing someone from your brain. They’d been driving for hours and Blaine even managed to sleep a bit which had made him happy because he wasn’t getting enough, but you throw on a little slow Garth B and boom, babys out like a light. That might have been out of self preservation but Sam chose to not acknowledge that. 

     Once Blaine’s pinky was intertwined with his, he gave a little jostle of their hands, a lopsided grin that broke from the road to connect with him for a few seconds before darting back to the road, one hand still on the wheel driving to NO WHERE. Okay, lie. They were driving to somewhere. Route 66 beneath the tires and a broken sign flickering neon in the distance. His stomach was grumbling and even if it was three in the morning, a pit stop for food was a necessity. “Kay, that’s a lie, but like, you’re comin’ with me.” It wasn’t even a lie, so he wasn’t leaving him. Not ever. It had taken him two seconds way back when, when they’d been in the middle of Pennsylvania, to decide that he would commit the rest of his life to Blaine Anderson if it would make him realize how loved he was. How not alone he was out in this world. 

      “We’re gettin’ food because I’m sorry but if we get abducted,” By the aliens they were going to watch for, of course, “I wanna at least have a burger in my belly. Not sure what they have in space but I’m pretty sure cows or whatever are probably a no bueno.” No good wasn’t really the translation he was looking for, NON EXISTENT was more like it.  “And like, what kinda food do aliens even eat, you know? We’re so stuck thinkin’ they don’t exist that we know nothing about them. I don’t wanna eat dehydrated fish flakes, or like, weird alien paste that tastes like …  like  …  like something really bad.”  

sam. @samsreckoning

( mssg » blaine | sent ) okay whoa hwoa whao whao whao hold on
( mssg » blaine | sent ) like is this a random sickness
( mssg » blaine | sent ) or is it a like, you had shellfish kinda sickness? every single time dad orders it he gets sick altho i really dont know what the difference between shellfish and shrimp and stuff is
( mssg » blaine | sent ) or is this a “i think i got possessed from that ouija board”  kinda projectile vomiting? i really hope not because i so dont wanna tell my priest that we’ve been screwin around in the dark
( mssg » blaine | sent ) ok  whao like not with each other but with the whole ghost thing
( mssg » blaine | sent ) wait blaine you dont really think this is a posession do you?
( mssg » blaine | sent ) god im on my way over are u okay? can i grab u anything? (minus a priest pls tell me this isnt a ouija thing im seriously crossing my fingers)
( mssg » blaine | sent ) really hope this isnt like they made it out to be in this is the end

( mssg » sam | sent ) oh my god sam its’nto possession.
( mssg » sam | sent )

I don’t htink that reallya happens like it does int he movies.
( mssg » sam | sent ) I hope it doesnt’. …
( mssg » sam | sent )

I think it is the drink i had with SEbastian. Or the dinner afrer. Or both.  Coudl be that bug going around.  but i I want to never move again.

( mssg » sam | sent ) ..tell your priest what?????
( mssg » sam | sent ) oh oh yerah right.
( mssg » sam | sent ) Sammy? 
( mssg » sam | sent )

Would it be horrible to ask you to bring me crackers and gatorade?  
( mssg » sam | sent ) You could leave them at the door eand I can come and get them. won’t get you sick I promsie.  

“Okay but is she checking you out or me?”

wedding crasher addict (part one)

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I don’t want to look.  That’s the whole point of me STARING at the band, Sam.

As a matter of fact?  Blaine had been going out of his way for the past ten minutes to not look or even turn his head in the general direction of the woman Sam was so curiously asking about.  Until, you know, his avoidance slipped and hazel eyes darted in her direction.  She was waiting for him like a shark.  Her smirk over the rim of his glass said one thing and one thing only.  You know.  When paired with the way she lifted her finger and pointed towards Sam, then him and slowly curled her finger in towards herself.  That brow lift to top it all off made Blaine’s insides shudder.  We’re talking from head to toe.  Not in the good way either.

“Sam?  Not sure how to explain this other than yes.  As in.  I think she’s checking us both out.  Did you not see that?  That’s the third time…”  Once in response to his polite smile when she caught his eye.  Another time when he’d glanced in her direction because she put herself in between his line of vision and the band and he caught sight of her again without purposefully seeking her out.  Third time?  As in now?  She probably thought he was interested.  “Please tell me you noticed that time.  Or am I making that up in my head?  Maybe she wants me to get your attention and send you over there?”  That could be it?!  Maybe?  Possibly?  If there is a God?  It was..  Someone needed her free liquor supply cut off sooner rather than later.

continued from here. @samsreckoning

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Sam’s lips were warm and soft.
The kiss was a gentle plea that begged Blaine to stay.

How fall could look so beautifully different from one state to another, especially when those states weren’t very big, was something that if Blaine had come here with Sam six months ago?  Would have captivated the former Warbler and had him falling in love with his favorite season all over again.  The smell of leaves, crisp air and campfire smoke should’ve lured anyone who remotely enjoyed autumn (and Blaine was far past that level of adoration) into sheer bliss ferried there on the wings of a symphony of crickets or on the backs of bouncing bullfrogs ribbiting their way to points unknown.  Sparks danced up inside the heatwaves of their campfire, twisting like blazing fireflies towards the starry blanket of blue black above their heads.  Blaine Six Months Ago would have been in heaven.  God.  Blaine Six Weeks Ago would have, too.

Blaine Tonight?  Well, he wasn’t sure when nudging one of the logs with their iron poker and sending cinders spiraling up, higher and higher had gone from appreciating the warmth that flooded over his face to..this.  Somewhere between calling up to Sam with a ‘Yeah!  Wow!  How many is that again–?’ and watching something burning into nothing but ashes  (just like Erased People, like him)–everything began to slip away.  The world went dark and all he felt was that God awful clawing at his throat.  By now, whatever caused that feeling, should have a face to warn him when it was coming.  Because it hurt and it was drowning or suffocating or both depending and always tasted like copper and gross blended together.

“Sam..,” but his voice was disconnected and he wasn’t sure if it made a sound at all.

Then the fire was shadowed by a towering figure that soon dropped down onto his knees and cupped his cheeks, had Blaine wondering how someone could have such big hands and deciding he was infinitely grateful that Sam did because they pulled him back to the planet, back to reality, back to Sam so many times they needed to be big because anything smaller wouldn’t be able to catch him this many times without letting him go already.  He didn’t realize he was crying until Sam was using his thumbs to dry his face.  Blaine tuned in then.  Completely and wholly staring into Sam’s eyes trying to read them deep enough to find words the blond might need to hear so he would be comforted and know he was making a difference even if it didn’t seem that way. 

Okay.  It was going to be okay.  Sam was making his promises again and Blaine never had the heart to tell him differently.  So?  Instead of talking, he wrapped his fingers around Sam’s wrists and gave him a reassuring squeeze.  It was easier to lie with a touch.  Made it, somehow, less of a verbal contract like the one Sam made him promise the first night.  One that if he betrayed, wouldn’t be on Sam’s life as his best friend dramatically put it.

Sam’s lips were warm and soft.  The kiss was a gentle plea that begged Blaine to stay.  To trust him and to know that he was loved.  Blaine had watched him draw in near, felt his heart and time come to a standstill when he realized what was coming.  The initial shock drew in a sharp gasp through his nose and his grip only tightened, holding Sam’s palms against his cheeks.  His red brimmed eyes went round before slamming shut and there was a moment where Blaine froze as his mind rushed to catch up with what was going on.  Something stirred in him, the need for Sam to believe him.  The desperation that someone would keep him finally broke free with the promise that Sam would was soon pressed against his mouth in return.  His gravity went upside down and his heart must’ve leapt to his throat this was real and solid and..

Sam’s lips were warm and soft.
The kiss was a a tender plea that begged Sam to believe that he would. 

“I hate cocaine.” – sam

meme reply.

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What was he supposed to say to that?

Blindsided with the most random statement he’s heard all day (and considering his current company..that says a heck of a lot when the day’s almost over)–Blaine hoped the odds were in his favor and gave his imaginary Rolodex of replies he kept on hand for Sam’s more creative thoughts a spin.  Oh!  Wait!  Right!!  What they were talking about earlier finally hit him.  That’s what this was about?  Hunter and The Warblers and the clip from the news that Blaine instantly wanted to throw up after seeing.  

Sam walked in on Blaine giving the punching bag the beating of its life earlier.  The chain rattled heavily, Blaine’s grunts gave way to pitched gasps for air and it wasn’t until a hand caught his wrist that he realized the other boy was watching him and whatever he was doing made Sam worry so much that the look on his face hurt more than his throbbing, now wrapped in tattered and peeling tape, knuckles.  

Every swing was another punch to the face of the idiot that couldn’t believe in the boys who had more talent in their pinkie fingers than he could ever dream of’s smirking, if you want to come back to the group you left behind’s face.  He just forgot when to stop.  Sam wasn’t used to seeing him this disheveled and messy.  That was his fault.  Never should have let himself get that carried away.  

Catching Sam’s random thought after minutes of silence and noticing the crease in his  forehead that was a sign he was overthinking something made Blaine laugh over top of his bottled water.  He looked down into the courtyard they sat above, their legs dangling over the edge of the landing they sat on and sighed deep.  “Yeah, me too, Sam.  Steroids though, not cocaine.  But with how he was acting?  I’m not sure anyone could really tell the difference.”

continued from here.

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Blaine couldn’t understand why he felt so nervous.  Sitting on the edge of his bed staring at his phone until it went black, he wondered what he and Sam were that the other boy couldn’t explain it over texts.  The fact that he felt he had to drive here, in the middle of the night, to tell him the details?  Didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that the details meant something more than a simple conversation over phone screens tapped out by their fingertips.  Sam wanted to put his face, his voice and his presence behind the words.  

What did he forget..?  How much..?

Frustrated at himself–Blaine’s feet began rapidly bobbing up and down, heels never touching the ground.  Like the beating of rabbit’s feet without the hop. Knees bouncing as he tossed his phone on the bed and pressed the heels of his palms against them, his arms rattled as his fingers curled backwards stopping when their tips touched the tops of his palms.  Shutting his eyes and burrowing his brows, he tried to think.  Come up with anything.  Anything at all.  Come on..please?  All he ended up with for his efforts was the beginning of a tension headache and sore ankles.  How long did it take to drive from Sam’s house to Dalton?  When would he be here?  Should he change?  In the end, he was still sitting right where he was when he heard the knock on the door.

Sam hugged him so tight he couldn’t breathe.  Blaine rushed to catch up and managed to hug him back, albeit from an awkward angle, and he watched as Sam changed a shade healthier because he breathed for the first time since he walked through the door.  Then, it was Blaine’s turn to lose his breath.  With every word he listened to, Blaine’s gaze softened. A sad smile pouted his bottom lip into his upper but he kept quiet and listened searching through the words like they were a light inside the fog wishing that he could put together more than imagined pictures he painted in his mind’s eye as Sam narrated a past that was just gone.  His heart was beating so fast, faster.  

The gut instinct to crawl from the pillows he rested on and scootch down the bed until he was sitting back on his heels in front of Sam won over and by the time Sam finished, Blaine was taking his hand and pulling it into his lap trying to comfort him the only way he knew how.  He might not remember what Sam said.  He maybe even laughed at the park story.  But Blaine knew it had to hurt Sam that he didn’t connect any of it together. Only to the person telling the tales.  Smiling again, he shook his head finding it silly that he would have thought they were anything but..  “Friends then?  We were friends.  Sounds like we really kept everyone on their toes.  I do like Blam, though.  Who came up with that?”  

A crooked grin and he covered the top of Sam’s hand with his free one capturing it completely as he tucked his chin towards his collar and studied Sam’s expression to see if this was all too much.  “I’m trying.  For you.  For everyone.  For me.  I’m trying so hard. Thank you for this?  Tell me everything.  I don’t care how long it takes.  Even the bad stuff, if there was bad stuff. Like.  If we had fights.  Though you seem hard to want to fight with.  Please don’t hold anything in, okay?  Everyone tries to soften things, you know?  Make it so I’m not overwhelmed or whatever.”  He shrugged helplessly.  “But the bad part is?  What they’re holding in, when I see them do it?  That’s the worst..  Ironic, isn’t it?”

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Making the decision to leave McKinley and return to Dalton might’ve been impulsive.  Something he blurted at his mother over the phone the moment he walked through the door after the incident at the park with Sam.  But it was the only choice he had.  His gut was twisted with guilt and hurt and (even if he didn’t deserve to feel it in Sam’s eyes–maybe his own, too, considering the guilt part?) anger.  None of this was supposed to happen.  He couldn’t have known Sam would be returning back to Ohio. As far as he knew?  Sam was gone for good and he spent half a year stitching up his heart from where it’d been torn apart when he watched the U-Haul disappearing down the road with Sam in it.  

Blaine understood why seeing him with Kurt hurt Sam.  He got that.  What he couldn’t understand was the anger he saw on Sam’s face and heard inside the words that were pretty much spat in his direction before the other about-faced and left him sitting on their bench with his mouth open, words failing him and his heart breaking all over again.  Pain.  Yes.  Understanding that would be easy because he hurt, too.  But he never thought he’d see that expression on Sam’s face directed at him.

Hurting him was something Blaine never wanted.  Would never do on purpose.  He never stopped loving him.  They didn’t end on either one of their terms.  Feelings don’t go away when someone is ripped from you.  He had to wonder if Sam knows that.  Does  he?  Deep down past the pain and disappointment.. Sam still believes in him?  A little?  Maybe some distance and space for him to breathe might make him calm down.  A break from the hurt of seeing him and Kurt together could be the only way to fix them.  If fixing them was possible.  Thinking it wasn’t and he’d ruined things forever simply because he’d, finally, taken the step and moved on?  Breathing became difficult at the idea he only ruined things worse.  No, he did what he had to.. 

Didn’t make leaving hurt less.  Or stave off his guilt for lying to Kurt about the reason why either.  He should have just told him the truth from the start.  Because once you’re as deep into the mess that lying in the first place got you?  More lies just keep piling up. Lesson learned the hard way.  Because this was never something that he never would’ve done if he’d given himself time to think.  Holding a freshly cleaned navy and crimson tie in his hand–Blaine sat in the living room chewing his lip and praying that sooner rather than later things would start to get better.

👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 – sam

fifty ways to kiss someone.
roll: 1,…good morning.

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Blaine was used to waking up to a quiet house.  Occasionally the only noise would be the soft music coming from his music deck that he’d fallen asleep to the night before.  Just because the silence could be deafening at times.  In a house this large and empty?  That lack of sound could seep into his bones and twist his insides up with the reminder that there was no one beyond his door.  Even when his parents were home, their rooms were in separate wings of the house.  Too far removed that in the first few seconds of waking up, he’d’ have to remind himself that they were here.  Music always filled that empty spot the occasional sleepover with one of his friends left on weekends one couldn’t come along.  He talked to a few about staying in the dorm rooms permanently.  Everyone who did, loved it.  Besides, random weekend practice sessions would only mean a better victory at nationals.  Something to think about.   

Later.

This morning was different.  The best sort of different he ever could hope for.  Last night was the first night he had Sam for company.  His boyfriend.  Here.  A steady rhythm of breathing next to him stirred Blaine awake rather than the light pouring in through the partially open curtains.  Along his side, the warmth of Sam lured him to twist around so he could face him without a care to how messed up his hair was or how disheveled the night made him.  Seeing Sam sleeping so peacefully, like he belonged here, was well worth any exposure of just how rumpled the normally dapperly polished Warbler could get.

Smiling in awe at how someone couldn’t get any more beautiful, long fingers reached over to run their tips along the curve of Sam’s forehead feathering stray blond wisps of hair back to where they belonged.  A barely there hum and Sam stirred closer.  Unable to help himself, Blaine impulsively leaned in and pressed their lips together letting Sam feel his smile that immediately followed before whispering against his mouth.  “..Good morning.”