Title: Drunk on a Plane

By: blaineandsamevanderson (SageK on , kaitlia777 on LJ and AO3)

Pairing: Blaine/Sam

Rating: PG

Summary: After being left at the altar, Blaine decides to use the Honeymoon tickets himself. AU ~ where Sam never moved to Lima and he and Blaine meet later in life.

Authors Note: For kirabella and samevanshm . Happy Belated Birthday guys!

Blaine sat on the steps of the specially built elevated wedding arch, staring bleakly at the back doors of the now empty room. His brother Cooper sat beside him, making an attempt to cheer him up, but what could he really say that would ease the sting of being left at the altar.

So far, he hadn't even gotten an explanation from Kurt.

When the door cracked open, Blaine started, hoping to see his fiance (Was he still his fiance? Did an aborted marriage change that?), but instead saw Santana slip into the room and start toward him.

"Once again, I have been selected to convey the heartbreaking message," she said, then brandished a folded piece of paper under Blaine's nose. "Wedding is off. Here's a note from Kurt, I refused to pass along this message aloud."

He took the paper and she took a step back, snagging Cooper's arm to allow Blaine a measure of privacy.

With Shaking fingers, he opened the note and began to read.

Dear Blaine,

This isn't really a surprise is it? Considering the number of differences we had concerning the wedding arrangements (really, you should have just let me plan everything) and the strain we've been feeling as of late must have been a clue. This morning, I knew, despite the embarrassment of not walking down the aisle, I simply had to save us from making a tragic mistake and marrying too soon.

We're both still young and perhaps we need a bit of space before revisiting the idea of marriage. Or just dating. We need a break. Though, as soulmates, we are inevitably bound to be drawn back together.

I know you picked up the honeymoon tickets at your travel agent yesterday. Give them to Santana and she'll bring them to me. I need some time away to recover from the trauma of today, so I'll take Rachel with me to Paris for a much needed respite. You can move your things out of the apartment while I'm gone.

I'll call you when I'm ready to consider dating you again,

Kurt

Normally, Blaine just went along with whatever Kurt wanted. Hell, the entire wedding was what Kurt wanted. Bit by bit he had fussed about anything that Blaine had asked to be included, kicking up such a stink that eventually Blaine had given in and let him have his way. Now he was demanding the plane tickets Blaine had purchased so he could take Rachel to Paris, a trip Blaine had paid for even though he hadn't wanted to Honeymoon there.

No.

For once, no.

"Santana, you can tell Kurt that he can move out of my apartment, the one he didn't want to put his name on the lease to, while I'm out of town. I'll be back in two weeks," he said, standing and handing Cooper his keys. "If you could make sure things get handled."

"You're going to Paris?" Santana asked with a raised brow, but didn't seem to be upset with the notion. "That...won't go over well with Kurt. And you know he won't move out without…."

"Coop, can you have my stuff packed and put in storage? I'm going to contact the realtor and put the apartment on the market...and no, I'm not going to Paris. I'm going somewhere else. I'll call you Cooper."

And with that he left, stalking out of the room and yanking his bag out of the back of a limo before jumping in a taxi and taking a cab to JFK. Once there, he exchanged the tickets for a substantial credit, a ticket to St. Maarten and a casita suite at the Divi Little Bay Beach Resort.

He only had a short wait before he could board the JetBlue flight and he spent the time in the bar, knocking back two drinks to start numbing the pain of being stood up at the altar, though he was careful not to get drunk.

He figured that could wait till he was on the plane, safely ensconced in his Mint Class seat, cruising above the clouds. Shoving his glasses into his pocket (his contacts had been taken out in the airport bathroom while he had a nice cry), he sat back and waited.

When the flight attendant, a smiling red head named Sophie, arrived with the cart of little drinks, Blaine waved her over. "A round for everyone on me," he said before placing his own order for an orange juice and lots of little bottles of vodka.

She beamed at him. "What's the occasion?"

"I got stood up at the altar," he said, knocking back a drink and trying to ignore her sympathetic coo. After she left, a voice from across the aisle surprised him.

"That sucks, man," a smooth male voice said and Blaine blinked over at the slightly blurry figure. He could see blond hair and broad shoulders, but the details weren't coming into focus.

"It does," Blaine agreed, downing a little bottle of vodka in one go. "He could have said something at any time...he even wrote me a note, saying he knew this morning he wasn't going to go through with it, but he waited till the last second to say something! Then he wanted the tickets for the Honeymoon-that I paid for- to go "recuperate" with his best friend."

"What?" the blond said in disbelief, "Dude, that's just wrong."

Blaine nodded, glad to have someone agree with him. "Yup, so I turned in the tickets and booked myself a trip to the Caribbean."

"Good for you."

That's right. Good for him. Finally taking a stand and refusing to be a doormat.

The rest of the flight went by in a blur, made hazy by the alcohol and Blaine didn't even remember making his way to the hotel...but he did, because when he woke up, he was laying on a comfortable bed, his head pounding.

"Oh God, this is why I don't drink," he groaned, burying his head in a pillow.

"Well, you were drinking yesterday," a voice said, startling Blaine, who cracked open an eye and peeked out from under his pillow.

An incredibly hot blond guy in swim trunks was just walking into the room, a glass of water and bottle of ibuprofin in hand. Blaine just stared, having no idea who he was.

As though he could read his mind, the blond chuckled. "I'm Sam. We met on the plane. By the time we landed, you were having an issue staying upright, so I brought you to your hotel and crashed on the couch in case you got sick."

"Sam," Blaine said, vaguely recalling the plane. "I'm sorry to have put you out."

Sam shrugged. "No problem. I'm staying in this hotel too and you had a shitty day."

"Still, you probably didn't want to start your vacation taking care of a drunk person," he said, taking the water and medicing Sam offered.

"Working vacation," Sam said. "I'm down here for a photo shoot and decided to take some days to enjoy myself too."

Blaine blinked at him. "You're a photographer?"

"Model," Sam corrected with a shake of his head and it hit Blaine. He'd often seen Sam on billboards and the side of busses around the city.

What was his life?

Instead of being on his honeymoon, he was hung over in a hotel room with a male model he may or may not have drooled over from afar.

"Oh...yeah, I think I've seen your...face before," he said, sitting up and wincing as his head swam.

Sam grinned at him and nodded. "So...I wanted to make sure you were okay. And leave you my number in case you wanted to get together." He set a piece of hotel stationery on the bedside table before giving Blaine a little wave. "I'm in Room 209."

Then he was gone.

Blaine blinked, looking at the paper Sam had left behind.

His non-honeymoon had just taken an interesting turn!

TBC….Maybe ;)