This story will be updated every Tuesday and Saturday. (At least, it will be Tuesday and Saturday in my part of the world.) Please review to let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. If you recognize it, it isn't mine.

Sam liked Brittany. Really liked her. She was sweet, and funny, and definitely the hottest girl at McKinley (though that wasn't why he liked her, seriously). Best of all, she didn't make him feel stupid just because his grades weren't as good as they should be.

At least, she never used to. But when the two of them left Figgin's office, he was feeling pretty much like crap.

"I'm going to go show Lord Tubbington my grades so he'll know what he could have accomplished if he'd stayed in school," she said, hugging her SAT scores to her chest as she bounced down the hall. "Then I'm going to call Santana. She always told me that I was smart, and I her to know what she was right." Brittany kissed him on the cheek and hurried off, leaving Sam to walk to Spanish all by himself. She wasn't in his class, but that didn't usually matter. They always walked together.

He slid into his desk, glad that Mr. Schue seemed too excited about verbs or some other Spanish junk to notice that Sam was almost a whole hour late. That meant he could slump down in his chair and glare at his stupid scores without anyone questioning him. Except Blaine.

Usually, Sam loved that Blaine was terrible at Spanish, which meant he was stuck in remedial classes with Sam. This was the only hour they had together, except study hall, because the rest of Blaine's classes were stuff that Sam would never be able to understand. But today, Sam wished that they had no classes together, because there was no way Blaine would let him get away without explaining.

"Where were you?" Blaine whispered, scooting his desk closer to Sam's. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Sam turned away.

A second later, Blaine's hand landed on his shoulder. "You can tell me," Blaine said.

Sam shifted further away. "What am I supposed to say?" he hissed, making sure to keep his voice low, because he definitely didn't want anyone else to hear. "That I'm too stupid to get into college, and now I've got the test results to prove it? That there's absolutely nothing I can do with my life now? I don't want to talk about it."

"Sam, you're not-"

The bell rang. Sam was the first one out the door, so fast that he forgot to grab his backpack before he was gone. Oh, well. He didn't need it for his next class, anyway.

Later, he found his backpack stuffed into his locker with a bag of skittles sitting on top. It was obvious who had put it there, but Sam never thanked him. He just slung the bag over his shoulder and tossed the candy into the trash.

The Men of McKinley calendar couldn't have come at a better time. There was one thing Sam was good at, and that was looking good. No, not even that – it was having his body look good, not him. And he could help others look better, too. He was smart enough for that, at least. And this was going to be the best calendar that McKinley had ever seen; he'd make sure of that. After all, his body was the only thing he had, and even that would be gone eventually when he got old and wrinkled and nasty. So he had to use it as much as he could now, while it still looked good.

Brittany understood. She patted his hand and said, "You're going to make everyone look hot. And you don't need college. I can use my new smarts to support us, and you can be a trophy husband."

That was what he'd been wanting people to tell him all week. At least it was the truth, and not some bull crap about how he can still do good no matter how shitty his grades were. But it didn't make him feel any better.

He started going to the gym more often. Screw class, it wasn't like it had ever helped him before. Ten more reps and he'd be a useful human being. Twenty more. Thirty.

"Will you please stop lifting," Blaine snapped at him that afternoon, after he'd stormed out of the photo shoot. "This isn't who you are, Sam. You're not just some body-obsessed muscle head."

Blaine didn't understand. Which was exactly what Sam told him. There were facts in this world, and Sam couldn't change them. He just had to do his best to keep up – to make something of himself – even if it was killing him.

Blaine told him he was special. Sam wanted to believe it.

He was called down to Miss Pillsbury's office the next day. She gave him the pamphlets that Blaine had asked her to get – who was she kidding? He couldn't get into places like those, even if they didn't care about scores. His writing wasn't good enough, and he hadn't done anything worth writing about. They tried listing ideas, but he barely listened. It was all so pointless. There was nothing anyone could do for him. He knew the truth, even if nobody else did. He stuffed the pamphlets into his bag and went to the gym.

Then, two days later, Blaine sat a laptop in front of him and pressed play. It was a video of different Glee club members. Tina, Artie, Brittany, Santana, Mercedes, Finn. All of them talking about things he had done.

Sam had tears in his eyes when it was over.

"That is your essay," Blaine said.

Sam hugged his as tight as he could, and did his best not to sob into his friend's shoulder.

Neither of them wanted to move for a long time. Finally, though, Blaine was the one to pull away. He smiled slightly at Sam. "So, do you want to come to my house for dinner? I was thinking pizza, and those Doritos you like, and of course we'll try to make chocolate chip cookies and probably destroy the entire kitchen. Afterward you can start your essay, and I'll proofread it when you're done. Then we'll lounge around my bedroom without having to work off all the junk we just ate."

Sam smiled, blinking the last of the tears from his eyes. "That actually sounds pretty perfect," he admitted.

"Come on," Blaine said, grabbing the laptop. He held out his hand, which wasn't a usual bro thing to do, but it felt perfect when Sam grabbed it and followed him out of the room.

"I think Tina has a crush on you," Sam announced, suddenly appearing next to Blaine's locker.

Blaine glanced up at him, surprised. They'd been pretty much attached to each other ever since the calendar shoot last week, so by now he'd gotten used to Sam pretty much appearing out of nowhere and saying something crazy, but this was a new level. Blaine shook his head, but stopped when the motion made the room around him spin around. "There's no way," he said.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam asked.

By now, Blaine knew better than to nod, so he just said, "Yeah, it's just a cold." He reached to pull his books out of his locker, which was much harder than it should have been. Every movement felt like he was swimming in syrup. Even walking was about ten times harder than usual. It was a miracle that he'd managed his diva performance in glee club yesterday without falling over his own feet.

"Maybe you should go home and rest," Sam suggested.

"No, I'm fine." Blaine finally got the stupid book free from his locker and tucked it under his arm, because putting it in his bag was too much effort right now. First he'd have to fight with the zipper, then try to hold it open, then force the book in there along with all the other junk already weighing his bag down, then battle the zipper again to close it, when Blaine really couldn't focus on anything except wondering how comfortable the floor would be to nap on... This way just seemed easier. The book felt like lead in his hands.

"You sure?" Sam asked. When Blaine gave a halfhearted nod – yeah, that did make his head whirl – Sam shrugged. "Okay, then. But I'm getting these." He grabbed the books from Blaine's hands, then pulled Blaine's backpack off his shoulder.

Blaine frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying your stuff," Sam said, like it should have been obvious. And maybe it should have been. Blaine was a little past being able to tell at this point. "You're not feeling good, so I'm helping you out. It's the gentlemanly thing to do. Besides, you helped me when I was feeling bad, so I gotta repay the favor."

"Oh." Blaine was pretty sure that Sam couldn't be more perfect. Except maybe if he was actually gay... No, Blaine wasn't supposed to think like that. He refused to have a crush on a straight boy. It just wouldn't end well. "Thank you."

"No prob." Sam shrugged and adjusted the two bags over his shoulders. "Anyway, Tina. She's majorly going after you."

"We're just friends," Blaine said. "I mean, things got a little weird when she asked me to the dance, but its not like she likes me. Besides, she knows I'm gay." Not that Blaine really had room to talk about liking someone of the wrong sexuality. Exhibit A: the fact that he had been watching Sam's lips the entire time they were talking without even realizing it until just now. Blaine made himself look away. "What gave you that idea, anyway?"

"Dude, I know." Sam gave him a look, and if Blaine had been breathless before (damn cold didn't want to let him breath right), it was nothing compared to how he felt now. "I always know when someone has a crush."

Blaine's hands clenched around the hem of his shirt. Did Sam- No, there was no chance. He would've run in the opposite direction if he knew. Still, it was nice to imagine for a moment that Sam was completely fine with it. And maybe that he reciprocated. Even if it would never be true. "I don't think you're right," he said, forcing his voice to be casual. "But thanks for the heads up. So, how are you with Santana coming back?" There, that would change the subject.

Sure enough, Sam groaned. "It's not like I think Brittany will leave me for someone else like Quinn did. Or Santana. Or Mercedes." He paused. "Crap, what if she does."

"She won't," Blaine said. He started to reach over and pat Sam's arm, but pulled back at the last moment. He didn't want to spread his germs.

"But what if she does?"

"Look at me," Blaine ordered. When Sam obeyed, Blaine stared him straight in the eye. "She's not going to leave you for Santana. And if she does, then she's the one who's missing out. Because you are probably the best guy I've ever met, and anyone would be lucky to date you. I know this probably sounds cliché, but if she dumps you, then she doesn't deserve you. Because you're amazing, Sam."

That was probably the closest Blaine had ever come to admitting his crush, but it was worth it when Sam grinned. "Thanks, man," he said. Blaine smiled back, glad just to stand there and stare. Really, this moment could have lasted forever and Blaine would have been completely fine.

Of course the bell would ring and ruin it.

"Shit, I gotta get to class," Sam said. He quickly handed Blaine his books and backpack, then ran off down the hall towards his math class. Which was on the complete other side of the building, if Blaine remembered correctly.

Blaine really should walk into his classroom, especially since his teacher could probably see him loitering outside the door. But that didn't stop Blaine from watching Sam until he disappeared up the stairway. Of course Blaine would help Sam with his girlfriend issues, if that was what he needed. Blaine would do anything to help.

What were friends for?

Three weeks later, Sam got a text from Blaine. Emrgncy! Met me in lockr room now pleez!

He didn't bother asking permission to leave class. He just went. When Blaine didn't use correct spelling, you knew something was seriously wrong.

"What's wrong?" he demanded the moment he burst into the locker room. He relaxed a little when he saw Blaine pacing by the sink. He looked freaked-out, but he wasn't gushing blood and had the right number of limbs, so at least it couldn't be too bad. Hopefully.

"Cement!" Blaine exclaimed, running his hands over his hair, which didn't move at all. "She put cement in my hair gel! Look at this, Sam. My hair is ruined!"

Sam's eyes widened, and he walked over to tap his fist against the top of Blaine's head. It made a "thunck" kind of sound, just like when he hit a brick wall or something. A grin made its way to his face, though he tried to hide it. "Dude, that's-"

"No," Blaine snapped, spinning around to glare at Sam. "Do not say awesome. I know you're thinking it, but no."

Sam shrugged. "It kind of is, though."

That was apparently the worst thing to say, because Blaine kept glaring at him. Except a second later, the glare fell away and Blaine slumped against the wall, looking like he might cry or something. That wasn't a look Sam had seen on him in months, not since right after the break-up with Kurt, and he really hated seeing it now.

"Hey," Sam said, somewhat awkwardly, hurrying over to stand next to Blaine. "It'll have to come out eventually, right? Maybe if you just stick your head under the faucet?"

Nope, that still wasn't helping. Sam wasn't as good at the helping-people thing as Blaine was. He wrapped one arm around around Blaine's shoulders, not quite sure what he was doing, but this had worked for cheering up Brittany that one time she'd found out that Lord Tubbington was part of the cat Mafia. It was worth a shot, right? And it did seem to be helping, though Blaine still looked depressed. At least he wasn't actually crying. Sam hated it when girls cried, and he got the feeling it would be just as bad coming from a boy. And even worse coming from his best friend.

"Well, think about this," Sam said. "Nightbird just got, like, ten times stronger. You can go around fighting bad guys with you're headbutt of steel! Oh, and weren't you just complaining about how long it takes to style your hair every morning? Well, now you won't have to worry about it, and your hair will still look nice." He smiled a little as he said it, because really, this could be the perfect solution. Except for the fact that Blaine was so upset about it.

To his relief, Blaine chuckled at that. "I think I'd rather have my real hair back. But thanks for trying. And you're right, it'll have to come out eventually." He wound his arm around Sam's waist. "Thanks," he whispered.

"No problem." Sam squeezed his shoulder. After a few moments, Blaine leaned his head against Sam's chest. And yeah, that definitely didn't feel like real hair. Sam used his free hand to rub the top of Blaine's head. Why was Blaine complaining so much? Sam was half tempted to try that gel himself.

Several minutes passed before they both realized that they had been standing in a locker room all this time just holding each other, which wasn't something bros usually did. Not that there was a problem with that, but it just seemed... weird. Sam wasn't about to say that, though.

Luckily, he didn't have to. Blaine cleared his throat and stepped away, which was probably a good thing, though Sam couldn't help thinking that it kind of sucked. "I'm going to go confront Sue," he said, "just like we planned."

"You okay for this?" Sam asked. "You still want to go through with the plan?"

Blaine nodded. "It's too late to back out now."

Well, that did make sense. If they didn't manage to take Sue down, then all of this would've been for nothing. "You sure you want to go now?" Sam couldn't help but ask. "You could wait until you're feeling better, to make sure you're ready for this."

"It'd be better not to give her any more chances to attack me," Blaine said. "See you in glee? And you're coming over to my house for a strategy meeting once I know what her next plan of attack is?"

"Definitely." Sam grinned. "I can't wait! But want to come to my apartment instead?" Last year, Sam had lived with the Hudson-Hummel's, but considering that both their kids had moved out during the summer, Sam hadn't really felt comfortable staying there any more. So he got a cheep apartment, and worked delivering pizzas and changing tires at Burt's garage to pay the bills. It helped that his dad had gotten a much better job, so his parents sent him some cash every few weeks. "It's a lot closer than your place, plus there will be no one around to bother us. Just you and me."

"O-of course," Blaine stammered, his voice suddenly much more nervous than it had been a few seconds ago. And he was doing that thing again where he stared at Sam's lips and looked kind of hypnotized.

Sam had meant to talk to Blaine about the crush thing for a while now, but the timing never seemed right. And this certainly wasn't when he should do it, while Blaine was still freaked-out about what Sue did. Oh, well. There would be plenty of time for that later. And anyway, it wasn't like it really mattered.

Sam had actually thought that Blaine would say it. Seriously, Sam had given him every opportunity he could. Why else did Blaine think Sam kept bugging him about guilty pleasures? Did he really believe that Sam wanted to hear about his Wham! obsession? (Okay, so Sam wanted to hear about everything Blaine talked about, but that hadn't been what he'd been aiming for.) And that Phil Collins song? Like hell it was about Kurt. Blaine wasn't a very good liar.

So, if Blaine wasn't going to come out with it, Sam would just have to tell him.

"I get it. Your guilty pleasure is me."

Blaine opened his mouth to deny it, but Sam kept going before he could. "I've known all year, and you know, frankly, I am an attractive guy. And you are into dudes, and if you weren't into me, I'd probably be pretty offended."

Sam watched Blaine's face as he spoke. It went from denial, to fear, to a really sad acceptance and disbelief, all in the time it took Sam to say that he'd be offended if Blaine didn't like him. Which was completely true, by the way.

"Um, you're... not freaked out? Because I don't want to jeopardize our friendship. I mean, you've been there for me through this whole Kurt thing, and-"

"Blaine, just stop. Nothing is going to change." Sam made sure to cut him off before he could get going. Blaine was normally a pretty confident guy, but if there was one thing Sam had learned this year, it was that Blaine could beat anyone when it came to hating himself. And coming from a guy who'd spent weeks trying to force his calorie intake to stay in the single digits, that was saying something. It was best to cut Blaine off before he got on a roll, otherwise it could take hours to build him back up.

Blaine made a small noise, not quite disbelief, but close. Sam leaned farther forward on the piano. "We're like brothers. I trust you. And to tell you the truth, the attention feels kinda... kinda good. It's flattering." That wasn't exactly the right word for it, but he couldn't think of a better one. Blaine probably could have helped with that, but in that case, Sam would have had to explain exactly what he meant. And he couldn't do that, because he still wasn't sure himself.

Anyway, there would be time to think about that later. "Hug it out. Let's go." He stepped away from the piano, arms up. Blaine was still sort of staring at him like he was crazy, so Sam repeated. "Hug it out. Come on."

There it was. Blaine was finally smiling again, which made Sam immeasurably happy. Especially when Blaine stood up and listened to him, because Blaine gave the absolute best hugs ever. Which was probably why they shared so many of them. If any of the other guys hugged this well, Sam would be cuddling with them, too.

Except-

"Um, dude," Sam said slowly. "Please tell me that that is a pack of lifesavers in your pocket." He might be fine with the crush thing, but he didn't think he was ready for... well, if it was something else.

"Oh, yeah, they're breath mints," Blaine said quickly, moving away from Sam. "You want one?" he offered, probably to prove that he was telling the truth. Honestly, Sam wanted to make sure of that himself. Though if it was a lie, he might be better off not knowing.

But nope, Blaine did pull a pack out of his pocket. Sam relaxed. "Sure." Blaine put one in his hand, and Sam popped it into his mouth, feeling deeply relieved. And something else that he still couldn't name.

Everything that Sam had said to Blaine had been the truth. Sam had known about the crush all year, and he was pretty happy about it, and he did like the attention. But as they told the club about their final song, he couldn't shake the feeling that some parts of his speech had been a lie. Not because of what he said. Because of what he didn't.

"Oh."

Blaine spoke quietly, but it was still enough to make Sam look up from the book he had to read for lit class. Though really, anything would've been. He hated Ethan Frome.

Blaine was lying on his bed, his head propped up on his hand, staring at his laptop screen. He was supposed to be proofreading Sam's essay, but he must have gotten distracted by Facebook at some point. And judging by his face, whatever he'd just seen wasn't good. Sam frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Blaine said quickly.

Well, Sam might not be the smartest (even though Blaine insisted that he was), but even he knew that that was a complete lie. He tossed the book aside and jumped onto the bed, lying next to Blaine so that he could see the screen. "Seriously, what happened?"

"It really is nothing," Blaine said. "Just... A surprise is all." He moved the mouse up a little so it pointed at whatever had upset him.

Kurt Hummel is in a relationship with Adam Crawford.

Oh.

Kurt had also updated his status just a few minutes ago. It read, It took three weeks, but Adam and I have officially found the worse romcom ever. The only question: why did we care?

"That really sucks," Sam said quietly, thinking back to all the times that his past girlfriends had left him for someone else. Which was a kinda depressing number. At least he had Brittany now. That made it better.

Which reminded him, he had a date with Brittany in two hours, meaning he had to finish the reading assignment before then, otherwise it would never get done. But not until he knew Blaine was okay, obviously.

"No, it doesn't," Blaine said firmly, suddenly sitting up and leaning against the back of the bed. Sam scrambled after him as Blaine pulled the laptop onto his knees. "We're broken up. That means that both of us are allowed to date other people, and he's in New York - of course he'll meet a nice guy." Blaine looked so confident for a moment that Sam almost let it go. Then his shoulders slumped, and leaned his head back against the headboard, eyes closed.

Sam scooted even closer. "Dude, you're obviously still upset."

Blaine tensed, leaning forward and looking like he was going to argue. Then he let out a breath and slumped against the headboard again. "I should be over him," he said, turning his head away from Sam. "And... I am. Or, I was, up until that stupid wedding."

Sam frowned. He hadn't really payed attention to what everyone else had been doing at the wedding, since Brittany had wanted to dance and the bartender had thought he was over twenty-one. But he did remember that Blaine and Kurt had sung some duet together, and danced together, and the one time Sam had gone looking for Blaine he'd been told that Blaine was up in a hotel room... Oh.

"Did you guys, like, do it?" Sam asked, turning to look at the window on the other side of the room, which suddenly looked like the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. At least that meant that he didn't have to look at his friend while he waited for an answer.

It wasn't like this should make him uncomfortable. He figured that Blaine had done it in the past – hell, Sam had done it with Brittany, and they'd been dating for a way shorter time than Blaine and Kurt had. And bros talked about sex all the time. It wasn't any different than Finn talking about Rachel last year, or Jake complaining about barely getting to kiss Marley. And Sam should be glad Blaine was doing it with someone instead of being hung-up on his crush.

Right.

Except that Kurt was with some other guy now, so that hadn't exactly worked out for Blaine, either.

"Uh, yeah," Blaine admitted. "And afterward, I... I told him that he should just accept that this meant something, and that we were going to be in each other's lives for many more years." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blaine cover his eyes with his hand. "Then he left. I should have known then that it meant... That it didn't mean the same thing to him as it did to me."

"So, what did it mean to you?" Sam turned to face Blaine again. Just because Sam was uncomfortable talking about this didn't meant that Blaine had to know that. What kind of friend would Sam be if he did something now to make Blaine feel even worse right now? "I'm only asking because you were so depressed about the Kurt thing, and then you liked me, and then you were happy with Kurt at the wedding, then you liked me again... I don't know what you're feeling, dude."

Again, Blaine looked like he was going to speak, but then he stopped himself and answered honestly. At least, it sure looked like he was being honest. "I don't know, either," he said quietly. "I think that at first I was using my feeling for you to get over Kurt. He didn't love me any more – or, it at least seemed like he didn't – so I would love someone else instead. But then it changed. By the time the wedding happened, I was using my feelings for Kurt to get over you." He glanced at Sam. "You promise that this isn't going to freak you out or make you uncomfortable?"

"Promise," Sam said.

Blaine nodded but still took a minute before he spoke. "I don't believe that you can be in love with more than one person at a time. So I must be in love with only one of you. I'm just not sure who that is. I thought it was Kurt. It should be Kurt, after all the time we spent together, and he's the only one who might actually like me back. But..." Sam tensed, waiting to hear the rest, but Blaine didn't finish that thought.

"What if I could like you back?" Sam asked. "Just, you know, hypothetically. If I was gay."

Blaine shifted slightly, turning on his side so they were facing each other more. "I don't think there's any point wondering about that. I mean, you're not."

"But what if I was," Sam said. He wasn't all that sure where he was going with this, but for some reason he really needed to know the answer. And he was used to doing whatever his gut told him to do, so why not keep going?

"I don't... Why are you asking this?" Blaine demanded. That's when Sam realized that maybe there was one reason why he shouldn't have kept asking. Sam didn't like making Blaine upset. "Are you just trying to get me to say I like you more so it could be some ego boost? I know you said that the attention is flattering, but I didn't think you'd fish for it."

Shit, Blaine looked actually mad. Or maybe hurt. It was sometimes hard to tell with him. "That's not it," Sam said quickly. "Trust me, I know you're not really comfortable talking about it. I don't see why you shouldn't be, but I'm not going to force you to compliment me or something. Besides, I wouldn't need to. If I really wanted compliments, I could just ask and you'd tell me some." Sam would do the same for Blaine, of course. There was so much that was awesome about Blaine that it wouldn't be hard at all to come up with stuff.

"Then what's with the question?" Blaine asked, sounding calmer, thankfully. More curious than upset.

"I don't know," Sam admitted. Why should he care who Blaine had a crush on? Well, he should care in a dude way, to make sure that Blaine liked a guy who'd be nice to him and not break his heart. But it didn't feel like that was the only reason Sam cared.

Blaine scooted closer, leaving barely a few inches of space between them now, and put a hand on Sam's arm. Blaine always did that when he was trying to cheer him up, Sam realized. Blaine was hands-on with everyone – it was just who he was – but this felt like their thing. "Sam? Are you... feeling something? I'm not trying to 'convert' you or anything, but with the way you're talking..."

"I'm definitely not gay," Sam said immediately. That was a fact. After all, Blaine had said that kissing girls was gross (when he was sober, at least), and Sam liked making out with Brittany a whole lot.

"There's such a thing as being bisexual," Blaine said. Sam figured this must be what Kurt always called Blaine's mentor voice. After Sam moved into the Hudson-Hummel house, he had spent a lot of nights drinking milk with Kurt and listening to the other boy gush about Blaine. Sam hadn't really understood most of what Kurt went on about, but he did know that Blaine was, like, the god of gay issues.

"You think I'm bi?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Blaine said. "That's something you have to figure out."

Could he be? He'd never really considered it before. Except for thinking that some of the guys were kind of hot, especially Mike and Blaine. But dudes could think that about other dudes, right? It was totally normal. Plus, it wasn't like Sam had ever wanted to kiss any of them – the thought of him and Mike together was just gross.

Maybe it wouldn't be with Blaine, though.

"Will you kiss me?" Sam blurted.

Blaine's eyes widened, and he got that nervous, self-doubting expression on his face again, the same one he'd worn yesterday when they'd talked about his crush. Which kind of made Sam regret saying anything – what kind of friend made his best bro look like that? Blaine asked, "As an experiment?"

"Yeah." No. Wait, what? Sam gulped, not quite sure where that voice had come from, but it was suddenly chanting that an experiment wasn't the only reason he wanted Blaine. "I don't know," Sam said, because that was the most truthful thing he could say at the moment. "It's like, I didn't think about it until we started hanging out. I just assumed I was straight, 'cause that's kind of the default option, and I was cool with it. But then you made me that video, and I started having these feelings. Now I'm just really confused."

Great, probably he'd freaked Blaine out. Was this how Blaine had felt when he thought that Sam would leave if he learned about the crush? If it was, then Sam really should have told him that he was cool with it a lot earlier, because this sick feeling really sucked. "Sorry, just forget it."

"Do you still want to?" Blaine asked. His voice was still nervous, and kind of breathless. He slid even closer, until Sam started to get uncomfortable with the lack of personal space. Not because he didn't like it – he kind of loved it even as he squirmed a little, if that made any sense. But this was such a new thing, being this close to Blaine and doing something besides hugging. It was terrifying. And awesome. And he still felt sick.

"Yeah," Sam whispered.

There was a pause. Sam could feel Blaine's breath against his lips. Then they kissed.

It wasn't like their were angels singing or a shining light – either literal or metaphorical – but it was nice. Really, really nice. He liked it a lot more than kissing Brittany, who always grabbed his butt and stuck her tongue down his throat. Not that he didn't like the making out, because he did, but this was better. But he didn't just like it because of the fact that it was so different than how Brittany kissed, because if Blaine had grabbed his butt like Brittany did, Sam definitely wouldn't complain. Wait, was he supposed to be thinking that?

He didn't really care what he was supposed to be thinking.

Sam didn't want to end it, and it seemed like Blaine didn't, either. But they had to, eventually. By the time they stopped, Blaine's arms were around his waist, and Sam was cupping Blaine's face.

"I think that answered that question," Sam managed, which was impressive, considering his mind was going oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

Blaine smiled and leaned in for another kiss.

That was when Sam's brain snapped back on, and he pulled away. "Wait, we shouldn't do this."

Blaine froze, looking hurt for a moment before the calm mask snapped on to hide it. "Why?" he asked.

"It's not because I don't want to." Sam made sure to clarify that before Blaine could start doubting himself again "But we shouldn't. We're not ready."

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked. "If we both want to, then what's the problem?"

"You were just telling me that you're not completely over Kurt," Sam reminded him. "And I'm still dating Brittany, and until two minutes ago I didn't even realize that I could be bi. This isn't the right time to start a relationship, and I don't want to do some friends with benefits thing that could just end up ruining us. If we're going to be together, I want to really be together."

If Blaine had protested, Sam was sure that his mind would turn to goo and he'd end up giving into whatever the other boy wanted. Luckily, Blaine nodded, even if he did sigh and look unhappy. "You're right. The one thing I've been worrying about all year is ruining what we already have. We have to do this right, or we're just going to end up falling apart like Kurt and I did." Blaine still couldn't say that last part without a wince. Further proof that they were doing the right thing, even if Sam didn't want to think that. "So, what do you think? Should we take some time off?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "From the kissing thing, not the friendship thing."

"Obviously," Blaine said quickly. Sam flashed him a grin.

"So, how long are we taking off?" Blaine asked. "When do we reevaluate? It should be long enough to actually give us time, but I don't want it to be too long. I'd like to kiss you again." Blaine looked embarrassed to admit that, even though Sam was thrilled to hear it. And he definitely felt the same way.

"What about Regionals?" Sam asked. "That's about three weeks from now. We can use the time to figure out what we feel, and I'll break up with Brittany. Once Regionals are over with, we can decide whether we're ready to move on."

"And if we are?" Blaine asked. "Then we'll be... boyfriends?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "I mean, that's what you want, right?"

"Yeah," Blaine echoed. "That sounds good. Your plan, I mean. I spent all year thinking that we would never be together. I think I can wait another three weeks."

Sam smiled, and couldn't resist reaching over to rub Blaine's hair (he couldn't really ruffle it because of all the gel). Which wasn't exactly a platonic thing to do, but he just had to.

Blaine slapped his hand away, trying to scowl, but it didn't really work. "Want to watch a movie or something? Or do you need to finish your book?"

Screw the book. He'd look up sparknotes later. "Actually, I have a date with Brittany tonight. I should probably go home to get ready. And figure out how I'm going to break up with her." That was one conversation he wasn't looking forward to having. It would be weird being on the other side of the I-like-someone-else speech, but he doubted he'd like it any more this way. Not that anyone had ever actually told him straight out that they liked someone else (except Mercedes). And Sam wasn't about to tell Brittany that he might have maybe fallen for Blaine – he was keeping that to himself until the three weeks were up and they had a better idea what was going on.

"Do you want any help?" Blaine offered.

Sam shook his head. "I'll think of something."

He really should have gotten up and left right then, but instead he hesitated. Blaine tilted his head, silently asking what Sam was thinking.

"Can we have one more kiss before I go?" Sam asked. "Then we'll cut ourselves off."

Blaine's lips against his was the only answer he needed.