He doesn’t know what he expected when he asked Blaine to help him work out but he’s been watching Blaine watch him for WEEKS now ( equal parts kicked puppy and horny teen) and Sam can’t just stay quiet about it. The way he sees it, it’s not fair on Blaine, letting him pine after someone he thinks he CAN’T HAVE and bite his tongue ‘cause he thinks he can’t talk about it. Sam’s glad that he opens up easily, that he doesn’t have to PRY it out of him, and the confession makes him feel warm inside. Spent so much time chasing people that didn’t want to want him that being wanted — hearing that he’s wanted — feels so damn GOOD.
He sets his hands on the floor to push himself CLOSER, knees-to-chest, and tilts his head into Blaine’s space. It’s a risk, crossing this line. Always a chance that he’s destroying their friendship, but he doesn’t wanna destroy BLAINE by ignoring his feelings either. And Blaine’s — amazing. Sam’s sure they could get back to how they were BEFORE today if Blaine decides he doesn’t want to do this. He makes eye contact and licks his lips, leaves no room for misinterpretation.
“You can HAVE ME, if you want.”
It slipped. He couldn’t help it. Holding it in any longer would suffocate him surely because he certainly felt like there was a hand around his throat growing tighter and tighter the longer it took for Sam to say anything. The pause between his confession and when Sam inched forward felt like a crushing press of the pause button on time itself. What did he just do to them by saying what he said? Blaine wouldn’t ever be able to find the means of telling Sam how precious he was to him. Not only because he wanted him. But because of everything Sam had already given was priceless in Blaine’s world.
A person he could rely on. A soft heart and such a sweet, caring soul that Blaine knew if he lost it–his would would never be the same. He waited. Half afraid and half so full of hope that–maybe–this time he’d gotten through out of bluntness. A secret that wasn’t a secret finally made tangible and real because his answer made it that way. Undeniable. Irretractable. A blessing or a deathblow. There were knees against his chest and his heart thundered against Sam’s legs. Unsteady hands cupped bended kneecaps, palms to their points shook before clinging tight. Hazel eyes watched a tongue sweep over a mouth that held the key to everything that would or wouldn’t be between them with the answer it would give. When Sam spoke–Blaine’s gaze flicked up to meet his. Disbelief and relief. ‘You can have me, if you want.’ And Blaine wanted him so badly that he couldn’t breathe. “I want you..,” their foreheads touched as Blaine lifted up to rest them together.
“I need..” Words cut short when the corners of their mouths touched and Blaine shuddered from head to toe at the taste. “Sam,” eyes squeezed shut. One more ragged breath. The warmth of Blaine’s right hand left Sam’s knee and fingertips gently touched his chin and turned him in His left hand lifted to cup the back of Sam’s head, thumb tracing the shell of his ear.
Their lips brushed together with every word. “Are you sure?”
want a random starter? 📺 for me to use a line from the last TV show I watched as a starter “Bad choices. Make bad choices with me.” -Bates Motel @samevvns
In hindsight this epic break-in test run might’ve been a lot easier without the costumes. “Bad choices. Make bad choices with me.” Was all he had to say and Sam was 110% in for Blaine’s Master Plan of breaking into Dalton. Twice. They had to make a point. New Directions–and for Blaine he–would not be swayed by guerilla tactics unless THEY were the ones committing said guerilla tactics. A point that would soon be made after narrowing down the perfect route to take to and from the Warbler Common Room to the waiting car–still running–and to McKinley where they would be off scot-free with their beloved prize and dignity back.
Waiting til the weekend when most of the boys would be out or home? Common sense. Going in through the balcony adjacent to the spot marked X on Blaine’s map? Also common sense. Doing this for the first time in a suit that weighed him down and restricted his movement? Common sense, too. Cause how was he supposed to do it right for real if he couldn’t pull it off the first? That’s what he told himself. Jumping for the fifth time, a flush faced NIGHTBIRD grunted as he plastered a gloved hand to the back of his neck and squinted at the BLONDE CHAMELEON. “Make them with me-uhm–,” a booted foot lifted and he pointed at the balcony overhead that his fingers fell inches short of grabbing every time he tried jumping up to reach. “Right after you–,” he winced feeling his pride take a nosedive, “BLONDE CHAMELEON?” Blaine stood taller trying to prove it wasn’t a height thing it was a costume thing–totally. “NIGHTBIRD requests leg-up.”
pianokeysandbowties back up 