"It's really bad, isn't it?" Blaine asked as he stared at himself in the mirror, examining his freshly shaved head.
"It's fine," Kurt said, unconvincingly. At Blaine's whine, he added, "I'll buy you lots of fabulous hats."
"You really shouldn't buy me anything," he said, continuing to rub his hands over his now bald head. It looked weird and felt even worse. If it wasn't for his best friend's wedding reception, he would be tempted to never leave the house again.
"It's nothing," Kurt shrugged off his concern, as his focus remained on tailoring Blaine's charcoal gray pants so that they would fit over his cast. "I'll probably pick up some new pants, too. Yours are getting too loose now that you're losing all this weight. It's going to be a bitch to try and take in the waist of everything you own."
Blaine looked down at his emerald green dress shirt and how it hung off of his body loose and unflattering. Just a few months ago, it had fit. In fact, he could still remember his dad teasing him about how he was going to burst out of his shirt because it had been so tight. His bed was covered in other discarded outfits that Kurt had turned down because they were either too casual for a wedding reception or too fancy for a couple that saw it appropriate to get married in a boys' locker room. Kurt hadn't said it, but he was pretty sure the only reason half of his outfits had been vetoed was because they made him look so sick and gangly.
"You really shouldn't buy me anything," he repeated himself, not knowing how to explain that spending any amount of money on clothes for him at this point was pointless. His clothes might have been hanging loose and ruining the nice lines he usually strived for, but that was hardly the most important thing right now.
"What are you going to do, wear sweatpants everywhere?" Kurt asked with a roll of his eyes, like it was the most ridiculous thing that he had ever heard. "You said that you wanted to feel normal, but you can't possibly feel normal if you're swimming in all of your clothes. I'll stop by the mall tomorrow."
"I just don't see the point in spending money on me when I won't be around in a few months," he said.
"Stop," Kurt said, suddenly tense and quiet, dropping the pants that he was altering. They fell to the ground in a crumpled mess. His hands were frozen in mid-air and they were shaking.
He moved over to sit beside him on the bed and tried not to be disappointed when Kurt didn't turn into his touch. He sat there, quietly, giving him time to gather his thoughts. He'd learned long ago when to push and when to let Kurt come to him. If the way that Kurt was holding his head high, jaw trembling with emotion, was any indication, Kurt needed his space.
He felt guilty. It wasn't that he believed his death wouldn't affect Kurt. He had known that it would. Kurt didn't give his love easily, yet he'd trusted Blaine with his heart and now Blaine was leaving him. He wasn't going willingly, but he was leaving nonetheless. Of course that would affect Kurt. He should know better than to bring it up so casually, as if it didn't matter, but Kurt was his best friend. He wasn't allowed to talk about his diagnosis with his mother. She simply assured him that he would be fine. His dad always changed the topic. Cooper alternated between crying on his shoulder over old home videos and making big elaborate plans for when he was healthy again.
He didn't mean to make Kurt feel bad, he just needed someone to talk about this with. Nobody really understood what he was going through. They drove him to the hospital every day, watched him struggle for words when his tongue went numb, heard him cry out in pain and get sick from the chemo… They were all there for him, but nobody really understood what was happening.
Blaine wasn't even sure that he understood what was happening. The only thing he knew was that it was real. He had cancer and he was dying and the last thing he could afford to do was allow his family to lull him into a false sense of security. He only had a limited amount of time left and he needed to be able to talk about that so he continued to realize it was real.
He needed his best friend to talk about this with. He couldn't tiptoe around Kurt, as well.
"I'm sorry," he said, rubbing his fingers at the back of Kurt's neck in the way that he'd always liked.
He was being selfish. Kurt was in just as much pain over his diagnosis as his family was and if he didn't want to talk about it, Blaine should grant him that courtesy. After all, he would be gone soon and it would be his friends and family left to deal with the aftermath of that loss. He should focus less attention on his own needs and more on theirs.
It took a few minutes, but eventually Kurt shook himself out of it and bent over to pick back up the pants and resume his work, quietly.
"Kurt?" he asked, afraid of setting Kurt off again.
"I think the purple Calvin Klein would really go best with this color gray, don't you think?" he commented.
"Of course," he said, disappointed that Kurt didn't want to talk about it, but he wasn't about to press the issue further. He stood back up and shuffled his way over to the closet to grab the shirt Kurt was talking about.
He pulled the shirt he was wearing over his head rather than try to fumble with the buttons and tossed it onto the bed, knowing his mother would come in eventually and clean the room up for him. He shrugged on the purple shirt and began the long task of trying to coordinate his hands enough to get each button through the correct hole. He was only to the third button when he heard Kurt get up and move to his dresser. He smiled when he felt him come up behind him and rest his head on his shoulder.
"I always loved this color on you," Kurt said, with a kiss behind his ear. "You look so regal."
"Well, my boyfriend is twentieth in line for the British throne, so I have to look my best," he teased.
Kurt playfully bit his neck before holding up a grey checkered bowtie with just enough purple in it to tie together his entire outfit. He took it while Kurt's hands moved to help him button up the rest of his shirt.
It was all incredibly domestic. Something he could have seen them doing in their own apartment, after they'd been married for several years and living in their own place in New York City. Only they weren't going to have that future anymore. They hadn't just rolled out of bed after an epic round of morning sex. Blaine wasn't running late to the office because Kurt just couldn't get enough of him. He was sick and he could barely dress himself.
Kurt kissed the back of his neck with each button and licked at his pulse point where he was most sensitive, making the entire thing feel more romantic than it really was. He leaned his head back onto Kurt's shoulder and relaxed against him, letting Kurt's strong body hold him up rather than continuing to balance on one leg.
"Are you sure you can't be convinced to come with me?" Blaine asked, tangling his hands in Kurt's hair and turning his head just so, so that he could pull him down into a kiss. They stayed like that for a few moments, just enjoying the feel of their lips together, before the position began to grow painful and Blaine started wiggling around, looking for a more comfortable angle. That was when he first felt how hard Kurt already was.
"Really?" he asked with a smirk on his face.
"You've been walking around in your underwear for the last forty-five minutes," Kurt explained with a shameless shrug of his shoulders.
He hadn't expected Kurt to be so turned on, not when they'd barely started kissing and Blaine still looked like an alien with his bald head and sickly thin body.
"Yeah but—"
Kurt cut him off with a kiss. "My boyfriend is in his underwear and I've got a hard on I'd rather not take care of alone. Do you really want to keep discussing this?"
Blaine shook his head and pulled him down for another kiss, this one was far more desperate and hungry. Kurt eagerly opened his mouth to accept his tongue. They were sloppy and uncoordinated at first, sadly out of practice, but the old passion was still there from before. No matter what happened between them, that desire for one another would remain constant.
He moaned loudly, as fingers dug into his hip bones. Hands pulled at him, moving him around until his back was hitting the closet door. He was sure to have a bruise tomorrow from where the doorknob was pressing into his back. It didn't matter. He couldn't feel much of anything past Kurt's lips on his own and the searching hands pulling at the waistband of his underwear. He tried to push up against Kurt for some much needed friction, but it was hard to keep balanced with his bad leg.
He growled in frustration as he tried and failed a few more times, before Kurt finally took notice and hoisted him up so that he could wrap his legs around Kurt's hips. It provided just the angle he needed to begin rutting against Kurt's strong, hard body.
New York had really taken Kurt and done number on him. Where there had once been softness, there was now solid muscle. He'd grown even taller and wider, while keeping the most deliciously trim waist. He should have been on the pages of magazines, not writing for them. Kurt had grown up into a man in the few months he'd been away and it was only just occurring to Blaine what that meant for their sex life.
They'd had makeout sessions and exchanged hand jobs since reuniting, but this was something new. This held the promise of everything and nothing had prepared Blaine for how much strength Kurt now had. As he thrust into Blaine without restraint, he realized that Kurt wasn't even straining himself to hold up his weight. He was completely at ease.
He wanted all of him, right here and right now. It had been too long since they'd been able to be together properly, not since before Kurt had moved to New York. Blaine had missed Kurt's touch before, but he hadn't realized how much until he had one hand groping his ass while the other struggled to get his underwear off. It had been too long.
"Unacceptable," he mumbled into Kurt's jawbone as he kissed, licked and nibbled on every part of him that he could reach. Kurt wasn't even reminding him to be careful about hickeys.
Blaine had been too tired to do much of anything most nights, but now he was seeing how absolutely silly that sounded. Screw how horrible the side effects were, he could power through them if it meant being able to be with Kurt like this...
"What?" Kurt asked, grabbing his head and pulling it back until his entire neck was exposed.
He then began his own exploring, sucking at his pulse point and making Blaine squirm.
"Huh?" he added, breathily.
"You said unacceptable?" Kurt reminded him with a devious chuckle, taking that exact moment to roll his hips until his dick was pressed right up against Blaine's ass.
"Fuck— you know I can't think when you do that," he pretended to complain, knowing Kurt didn't believe him for a second. He proceeded to roll his hips several more times until Blaine was practically crying for more.
A dark spot on Blaine's underwear began to grow as he started leaking. They had barely begun and he was already ready to come. His entire body was over sensitive, like he was doing this for the first time.
"Just wanted to see if it still worked for you," he said.
"You're mean," Blaine grumbled half heartedly.
"I can stop."
"Don't you dare," he said, slapping Kurt playfully on the ass.
He chuckled in surprised when Kurt pushed back from the wall and carried him the several steps to the bed like Blaine weighed nothing. He moaned as he was thrown on top of the bed, sure that he was supposed to be protesting all the man handling, but all he felt was ridiculously turned on.
"Oh my god," Kurt's hands flew up to his face, horrified. "Are you okay? I got carried away and I completely forgot about… you're okay right? I didn't hurt you or—"
"Kurt," he laughed, reaching out to pull him down onto the bed with him, which only ended up with awkward tangled limbs and a near elbow to his crotch. Not exactly the sexy move he had planned on.
"You're okay?" Kurt asked, once they had untangled themselves and pushed all of the clothes off of the bed to make room for the two of them.
"I'm fine, I promise," he said. "Now can you please go back to kissing me? We were kind of in the middle of something."
"Oh god, yes please."
Their lips met again as Kurt pulled Blaine on top of him. In the back of his mind, he realized that he was going to be late to Sam's party, but he couldn't be bothered to care. After all, when was the last time something Sam and Brittany planned started on time?
Kurt grasped at his shirt, pulling it up until Blaine finally sat up, straddling Kurt, and allowed it to be pulled over his head. It was tossed carelessly to the ground.
"It's going to wrinkle," he commented.
"That's why they invented irons," Kurt said, chucking his own shirt off to the side as well. As he looked down at all the glorious skin before him, he was momentarily struck. His abs had new definition to them that hadn't been there before and — had Kurt stopped waxing?
Oh god, he wasn't even hairy. There was just a small splattering of dark hairs on his chest and a light trail that disappeared under the waistband of his jeans… Still…
"Yeah, irons, right," he mumbled, unable to stop staring.
"Did you want to take a picture or just continue painting a portrait in your mind?" Kurt teased.
"Have you seen yourself?" he said, unable to say anything more eloquent.
"Um, yes, but so have you. Multiple, multiple times in multiple positions. Twice in this room in fact, and that was before you even moved downstairs. What would your parents think..." Kurt said with a wink.
"Shut up," he chuckled at the memory of their younger selves going at it in his parents bedroom last year when they'd both gone on vacation in Mexico without him. God, they'd been so young and carefree then. He'd always felt like nothing would ever touch them back then. How wrong he'd been.
"It's entirely unfair," he continued, trying to shake away the negative thoughts. He didn't want to let anything ruin this moment. "You were hot enough before. Now it's not even natural."
"You don't need to woo me, you've already gotten me into bed."
"You look beautiful," he said, looking down at his own body self consciously. He wasn't so thin that his bones were protruding yet, but he knew it wouldn't be long. His portacath was visible just under his skin, there was no way to hide it. He couldn't help but think of how inadequate he must look next to Kurt.
The angel and the sick kid with cancer.
"Stop thinking so loud," Kurt complained and cupped him through his underwear, causing Blaine to buckle over in surprise.
It was hard to think of anything with Kurt's hand on his dick, which he figured was probably the point Kurt was trying to make.
"You just want me for my body," he said with a smile, trying to shake the feeling of inadequacy.
"Always."
He attacked Kurt's mouth with renewed hunger as his hands both went to Kurt's belt, eager to get his jeans off. There wasn't a lot that he could do for himself anymore, but he still remembered how to make Kurt scream in pleasure and he planned to do just that. If they could catch their old familiar rhythm, he would feel a lot better. If he could make Kurt come screaming his name, maybe he'd start more like himself again.
Kurt's hands went to the back of his head where they would usually pull at his hair until his gel came free, but there was no gel to come loose and no hair to pull on. He pushed at Kurt's hands, embarrassed about his lack of hair, but Kurt just slapped his hands away. Both of Kurt's hands were touching his head and he honestly thought he might cry from the shame of it.
"Hey," Kurt stopped kissing him and pulled back enough so that he could see his face. "Blaine?"
He shook his head, not wanting to talk, and instead moved to bury his face in Kurt's chest, but Kurt wasn't about to let that happen.
"Hey, look at me," he said, then waited until Blaine lifted his head and met his eyes. "You are more beautiful than anyone I've ever met. You are strong, wonderful, kind, and incredibly beautiful. You always have been, but especially now. Even if you don't believe it, know that I believe it, okay?"
He nodded and couldn't help but smile as Kurt wiped a lone tear from his cheek.
He rolled them both over until Blaine was on his back, then Kurt began to kiss every one of his imperfections.
He kissed each of the three blue radiation dots on his face. He kissed the ugly red scar on his head from his surgery. Kissed the lump on his chest where his portacath could be seen just under the skin. He licked a line up the old, fading scar on his ribs that could barely be seen anymore, but Kurt always knew to look for it ever since he'd heard about Blaine's infamous Sadie Hawkins Dance.
Then he dipped lower until his lips were just below his belly button. He'd lost all of his baby fat and much of his muscle tone since getting sick, but he didn't have time to get embarrassed about it. Kurt pulled back and blew lightly, causing a chill to go through his spine and his breath to hitch. He'd always been extra sensitive there. Finally, he sucked and nibbled on each hip bone, leaving two marks for his eyes only. Kurt always marked him, every time. It was something they both loved, something only the two of them could see.
The entire moment managed to make him feel beautiful no matter how sick he was.
"I love you," he said as Kurt hooked his thumbs into the elastic of his boxer briefs and finally, after multiple tries earlier, pulled them off completely. Blaine's cock sprung right to attention, begging to be touched.
"Good, because I love you," Kurt responded before he began licking his way up his thighs.
"Fuck," he called out, causing Kurt to chuckle. He loved teasing Blaine about how well mannered he was in public and how wild he became in bed.
Kurt's hand moved to grasp the base of his cock and his tongue licked at the tip, bracing his hips down with his free arm to stop him from thrusting up into Kurt's warm mouth. His head fell back onto the pillow and he continued to try and arch up, desperate for more.
Once Kurt's mouth finally sank down over him, he felt like he was floating. No high, no matter how strong the pain meds were, would ever make him feel as good as this. He should cancel all of his prescriptions and just pay Kurt to do this full time. He hadn't felt this great in a very long time.
"More," he called out, glad nobody else was home to hear how loud he was.
"Say please," Kurt said, his lips making the most sinful smacking noise as he pulled off of him.
"Kurt," he whined, looking down at him only to find that Kurt's face was beyond sexed out. His hair was a mess from where Blaine had pulled at it, his eyes were dark, and his lips were swollen and covered with precome.
Just as Kurt was about to sink back down over him, he heard the sound of the garage opening.
"Why," he groaned, moving to sit up so that he could find his clothes, but Kurt pushed him back down.
"My mom—"
"The door is locked. Just keep quiet and we'll be fine," he said and he sank back down, taking practically all of him.
His jaw dropped in equal amounts of pleasure and surprise. Kurt had always insisted that they couldn't have sex if either of their parents were home. He was always so horrified that somebody might find out they were having sex. Blaine could still remember the strict thirty minute rule Kurt held, there were timers and everything. He insisted on at least a half an hour for cleanup time before anybody else came home. He was anal about changing sheets, lighting deodorizing candles, and time for quick cover ups when, inevitably, one of them ended up with a hickey that no amount of clothing could conceal.
No matter how confident Kurt was in the sheets, he was so awkward about sex outside of the bedroom. He was the very last person to ever suggest that they simply continue having sex once another person came into the house — locked door or not.
"What are you doing?" he whispered frantically. As much as he didn't want Kurt to stop, he didn't want his mother to find out what they were doing and force them to go back to their old house rule in which Kurt was only allowed in the living room.
Kurt didn't respond. Blaine's comments only seemed to spur him on more as he started bobbing up and down faster. He had to bite down on his fist to keep from crying out. He was close. All it would take was for Kurt to let go of the base of his cock and Blaine would be coming down Kurt's throat in a matter of seconds.
"Blaine?" his mom called out, knocking on the door. Blaine pulled at Kurt's hair to get him to stop but he refused to come up. "Are you in there sweetie?"
They both hear the sound of his mom trying to get into the room, but thankfully the door was locked like Kurt promised.
"Blaine?" she called out louder.
"Shit," he whispered.
Kurt pulled off of Blaine with a roll of his eyes and stood up, zipping his pants and buckling his belt.
"It's fine, just stay here," he said, covering him up with a throw from the window seat and throwing on Blaine's sleep T-shirt.
"What are you doing?" he whispered harshly.
"I'm making sure she doesn't bother us, just pretend you're sleeping and stop worrying."
Blaine was stunned as he listened to Kurt step out into the kitchen and heard the muffled sounds of casual conversation on the other side of the door. He watched the clock and kept waiting for Kurt to come back any minute, but two minutes passed, then five, then ten, until finally about fifteen minutes later Kurt came back into the room with a pleased smirk on his face.
"You've got a really bad headache and have been sleeping for a few hours. Your mom is going to do her work upstairs in her room so that the noise doesn't bother you," Kurt explained, as he stripped down all the way until the only thing left was his underwear.
"Thank god you remembered to lock the door," he said, throwing his arms over his face, frustrated that his mother had effectively cock blocked him.
"Ready?" Kurt asked tugging the blanket down and tossing is to the floor.
"Are you kidding?" he asked, surprised. He wasn't sure where this new and bold Kurt had come from, but he was pretty sure he could get used to it.
"This is the first time I've had you in bed where you weren't sick or too exhausted to try anything. Do you really want to stop?"
Blaine thought about saying yes, about how mortified he'd be if his mom heard the two of them. But then he remembered how good he had felt just a few minutes ago. How normal it was to be worrying about getting caught by his parents for once and how the rush of pleasure helped cancel out any lingering pain he'd had from his headache earlier and he couldn't deny the fact that a certain part of his body was still aching for more.
He wanted Kurt and he didn't want to have to wait again for another opportunity. Kurt was right, with how sick he'd been, there was no telling when they'd get the chance again.
"I can't be quiet when you're blowing me. It's physically impossible."
"My boyfriend, the screamer," Kurt said with a loving roll of his eyes. "Guess I'll have to find a way to shut you up."
Kurt kissed him, easing his lips open until his tongue had room to enter, and Blaine let him. He let Kurt's tongue explore every part of him, always loving the feeling of being devoured. He reached out to grab onto Kurt's hips, pulling him down until he was settled between Blaine's legs and they were lined up just right. What little amount he'd softened while Kurt had left, was brought back to full attention the second Kurt rubbed against him. There was only a thin layer of cotton separating them and Blaine was so hungry for more. He just wanted Kurt to start stretching him out already. Or even to stretch Kurt out — if that was how he wanted it tonight — but he knew that wasn't a possibility. Kurt loved foreplay far too much. He loved the slow build up. He loved the way Blaine whined when it got to be too much… well two could play that game.
He took Kurt's nipples between his hands and began rolling them with his fingers, knowing how sensitive Kurt was. He then licked a strip all the way from Kurt's adam's apple to his ear and proceeded to nibble on in playfully until Kurt started squirming against him and trying to relieve some of the ache.
"How do you want it?" he whispered into his ear in his most seductive voice, loving the way Kurt visibly stiffened beneath him.
"You. I want you," Kurt groaned, taking his hands and pinning them above his head so that he'd stop teasing him.
"You are never allowed to lecture me about patience in the bedroom," he teased.
"Condom. Now," was Kurt's only response.
Blaine moved what little he could while still being pinned down by Kurt's weight, and began digging through his drawers for supplies. The lube was easy enough to find. It was sitting near the top right next to his favorite vibrator. The condoms were harder. It had been months since he'd needed them and as such, they'd been buried by all the other crap he tended to throw into the nightstand when he was too lazy to properly clean up his room.
"Hurry," Kurt said.
Blaine looked over to see that he had his hand down his pants and was jerking himself off. The noise he made wasn't human.
"God I've missed seeing you get desperate like this," he said.
"I haven't even fingered myself since the last time we were together," Kurt explained. "Will you please just hurry."
Blaine pulled himself out from under Kurt and set about looking for a condom with renewed vigor, eager to find one so they could continue what they'd been doing before. When he couldn't find one, he pulled the entire drawer out from the nightstand and dumped it over the floor, vowing to clean it up later.
"Tell me that vibrator isn't pink," Kurt said, but he sounded far from judgmental. If anything, his voice was huskier than before.
"You're welcome to use it on me anytime," Blaine said with a wink.
Kurt groaned, biting his bottom lip like he always did when he was trying to stop himself from coming.
"Condom, now," Kurt repeated himself.
Blaine finally located the condom box underneath a book he'd been meaning to read, only to find out that it was empty.
"You've got to be kidding me," Kurt said, pulling his hand out of his boxers and throwing himself back onto the bed dramatically. "It's like the world is conspiring against me so that I never get off again."
The very last thing Blaine wanted to do was forget about it.
"Can't we just…" he trailed off, not sure how Kurt would feel about him suggesting they skip the condom. It wouldn't be the first time they decided to go without one for one reason or another, but generally Kurt made it a rule to use one when they were together.
Kurt looked at him hesitantly before awkwardly focusing his attention on a loose strand in the comforter. It took a minute before Blaine realized exactly why Kurt would be so against the idea. Usually he just wasn't in the mood to get messy. He always complained about how he felt like he was still leaking Blaine's come even after he showered and cleaned. While Blaine loved having Kurt come inside of him, Kurt only liked it on rare occasions. That wasn't the issue though. Not this time.
"I'm clean," he said.
Kurt looked up at him, trying to act nonchalant, as if he hadn't been asking. Blaine knew better though, he could read the relief all over Kurt's face.
"With all the bloodwork I've had done… Well, I asked one of the nurses," he said embarrassed that he'd ever had to inquire about STDs in the first place. "I'm clean."
"Okay," Kurt said, though he wasn't entirely sure what that meant.
"Um… and you're?" he asked, knowing that he had no right to ask if Kurt had been with anyone else, but the question came out before his common sense could stop him.
Besides, he couldn't not know. A small part of him would always wonder if he didn't.
"I've only ever… with you," Kurt whispered, but he heard the answer well enough.
"Okay." Blaine smiled.
"I'll buy some condoms tomorrow."
"Yeah," he deflated, assuming that meant they weren't going to be doing anything tonight. All because he couldn't find a single condom. Why was fate conspiring against them?
"It should be fine for one night?" he added and Blaine's eyes lit up.
Kurt blushed as he popped open the bottle of lube and poured a liberal amount into Blaine's hands. He was confused at first why Kurt was using so much lube, but then he remembered that Kurt said it had been awhile and he probably just wanted to be safe.
"You're sure?" Blaine asked, rubbing his hands together to warm up the lube.
"Of you? Always."
The two managed to have sex without any further interruptions. At one point, things got a bit dicey because Blaine had exhausted all of his energy by being on top and he couldn't finish the job. Kurt stepped in though and rolled them over until he was on top and rode Blaine until they both came together. Never once did Kurt make a big deal over the fact that Blaine couldn't get the job done himself, if anything, Kurt couldn't stop whispering about how amazing it was.
Blaine had to agree. Anytime the two of them were together it was pretty spectacular but that time was all fireworks.
An hour later, and well past when he was supposed to arrive at Sam and Brittany's reception, Blaine was finally finished getting dressed and was making his way towards the front door when his mom came down the stairs with an empty dinner plate.
"Wh-ahh." she cried out when she looked at him for the first time. "What did you do?" she asked, hurrying the rest of the way down so that she could grab his face and inspect his head.
"Too much of it was falling out," he explained, self-consciously. "Does it really look that bad?"
"It'll grow back when the chemo is finished and you get better," was the only answer she offered, making him feel even more awkward than before.
Blaine was annoyed. He wasn't getting better and his hair likely never would grow back, the least she could do was pretend it didn't look horrible. What was the point of family if not to lie when you needed a pick-me-up?
"It's not going to—"
"It's temporary. It'll grow back soon," she said with a sharp smile, essentially warning him that the conversation was over.
Blaine rolled his eyes but didn't bother saying anything in response. There was no use with her. He watched as she moved into the kitchen to wash her dish and tried not to groan in frustration.
Kurt gave him a sympathetic look and leaned over to whisper, "I'll be sure she buries you in a fabulous hat."
He was surprised to hear Kurt say it. Especially after he'd been cut off for talking about his death earlier. He didn't expect him to ever make such an offhand comment, but he must have sensed that was what Blaine needed — somebody in his life to stop acting like his cancer was a fleeting thing that would be gone within a few days.
"I love you," he said with a smile, reaching out for Kurt's hands. Kurt leaned in to kiss him and when he pulled back, he was looking at Blaine like he hung the moon.
"Kurt's going to drop me off at Sam's thing then I've asked Tina to take me home," Blaine called out loud enough for his mom to hear.
"Kurt's not going with you?" she asked, coming around the corner with a worried look.
"I have to get some work done," Kurt explained, thankfully not mentioning how he wasn't going because he thought the entire thing was ridiculous.
"Maybe you should stay home, it's been a long day," she said.
"All of Glee club will be there if I need anything. Sam will be there, you know Sam. You trust Sam," Blaine reminded her.
"Right, yeah. I'm just being silly. You'll call if anything happens? I can come and pick you up if you get tired or don't feel good. I don't care what time it is," she said.
"Thanks. I might be back a little late. I'll text you," he said.
She leaned in to give him a goodbye kiss, and when she pulled away she was frowning to herself.
"You look so different without your curls," she said sadly. "Even when you were born, you always had this head of dark curls."
"You're the one that wanted me to get treatment," he reminded her, annoyed that she was making him feel worse about his hair being gone when it was only gone in the first place because he'd allowed her to talk him into starting chemo.
"You enjoy your party," she said. "Kurt are you sure you can't go with him—"
"I don't need a babysitter," Blaine cut her off before either of them could start discussing how fragile he was. The last thing he wanted was for Kurt to start thinking he was weak and fragile, not if he wanted them to continue to have a sex life.
Sugar and Tina had done an amazing job with the space that had been rented out at the local YMCA. White Christmas lights hung from the ceiling, disguising the basketball hoops so that they were almost unrecognizable. Tables lined the dance floor with an eclectic arrangement of flowers that fit Brittany's personality perfectly. A fog machine was on, making it look like they were walking on clouds rather than on a basketball court. It was a bit over the top, like all things Sugar planned, but it was nice. If this wedding ended up being real — and Blaine seriously hoped it wouldn't be — he could at least be glad that his best friend had a good reception.
The girls were all on a makeshift stage singing "Locked Out of Heaven" with Brittany on lead, and they were killing it. A circle was formed around Jake and Mike, who were having what looked like a dance off. Blaine hadn't realized Mike would be there, but as he looked around the room, it seemed like a lot of their friends had made the trip out to celebrate together. Puck and Quinn were at a table in the back with several empty bottles and Blaine figured that it was only a matter of time before they ended up making out. They always seemed to find each other when they were drunk. Mercedes was trying to teach Finn some new dance move.
All of there old friends were there. The only noticeable absences were Kurt, Rachel, and Santana. Rachel was on a cruise with her dads, and Blaine couldn't blame Santana for not flying out. He could only imagine how it would feel to see your ex get married.
"I thought you had bailed on us," Sam said, coming up behind him to slap him on the back.
"Never, I'm just a little late. Sorry," he said, hoping Sam understood that he was apologizing for more than just being late. He hated fighting with people and it was even worse fighting with his best friend.
"It's cool," Sam said, with a shrug. As if their argument yesterday had never even happened. "Of course, you know how you can repay me…"
Blaine stared at Sam, unamused. "I'm not role-playing with you."
"Oh come on," he groaned. "You are totally Professor X right now and it's been forever since I've practiced my Magneto. 'Does it ever wake you in the middle of the night? The feeling that one day they will pass that foolish law or one just like it, and come for you? And your children?'"
"Sam…" he whined, already self conscious about his bald head without Sam making Professor X jokes about it.
"This is part of your best man duties," Sam said. "Besides, you can pretend all you want but I know you love role-playing with me."
"Fine," he grumbled, trying to pretend he was still upset about it. "It does indeed," he said in his best Professor X voice.
"What do you do, when you wake up to that?" Sam asked, looking completely serious as he did his Magneto voice.
"I feel a great swell of pity for the poor fool who comes to the school… looking for trouble."
The two of them burst into laughter and Sam helped lead him over to the table where Artie and Ryder were so that he could sit down.
"It's good to see you, dude," Sam said. "You know Brittany is expecting a song."
"Yeah, yeah," he said good-naturedly, with a roll of his eyes. Sam headed off to talk to some more guests, so Blaine turned to his friends to chat.
"I can't believe they really got married, have you talked to him about this? He'd listen to you," Artie asked him once Sam was out of earshot.
"I tried, but he got upset and left."
"They are way too young to get married. This is worse than Finn and Rachel, at least they'd been dating awhile before they got engaged," he said.
"Sam's having a rough time right now. He's focusing on this apocalypse thing so he doesn't have to focus on what's really happening," Blaine explained. "I'll talk to him again once this all passes. Right now he won't hear anything unless you agree with him that the world is really ending."
"Wait, you mean the world isn't ending," Ryder asked. "Brittany showed me a pretty impressive chart."
"Are you serious right now?" Blaine asked.
"I kissed Marley earlier thinking it wouldn't matter if Jake hated me because the world was ending tonight…"
Artie side-eyed Ryder so hard that Blaine could barely contain his chuckle.
"Anyway," Artie drawled, turning his attention back to Blaine. They'd all learned that sometimes it was best to just let the sophomore's drama go rather than try to get involved. It had been bad enough watching their old friends go through endless angst and love triangles turned rectangles turned pentagons… They didn't need the headache of watching it happen all over again with all the newbies.
"We were planning a big group number for Sam and Britt and were hoping you'd sing lead for us, being best man and all. If you're feeling up to it?"
"Yeah, that sounds great," he said through a yawn.
"Are you sure?" Artie asked.
"Yeah, no. I'll be fine. It's just been a long day," he said with a blush, embarrassed that he was already ready for bedtime and it was barely eight o'clock at night.
"Awesome, I'll go let everyone know," Artie said before wheeling off.
"Do you think Jake's going to punch me?" Ryder asked him looking alarmed.
Blaine sighed, but against his better judgement, he answered him, "I think you kissed his girlfriend, so there's no telling what he'll do. He is a Puckerman after all."
"Right, but you hooked up with that guy and Kurt didn't beat him up, right?"
Blaine groaned, wondering if he would ever live down his mistakes. It'd certainly be easier to move on if everyone would just forget about it already. "Well Kurt didn't know the guy, first of all. And second of all, he was in New York. I have no idea what he would have done, it wouldn't have been pretty, I'm sure. He was pretty vicious to Sebastian and we were only ever friends."
"I should man up and tell him before Marley does. He can't be mad at me if I'm the one to tell him, right?" Ryder asked.
"I'm not sure that's how it works," Blaine started to say, but before he could finish, Ryder was standing up, looking determined.
"Thanks for the advice man," he said before walking away, leaving him to grumble to himself about the 'damn kids.'
"Blaine Warbler!" Brittany called out as she made her way over to the table with Tina and Sugar to give him a hug.
"Normal people!" he said, over-dramatically.
"What happened now?" Tina asked.
"You don't smell like raspberries anymore," Brittany commented, completely oblivious to Tina's question.
"Ryder kissed Marley," he said, causing them all to roll their eyes.
"Well, I called that one a mile away," Tina said. "It's mini-Finn and mini-Rachel."
"Is that why she was crying earlier and looking like a whiny raccoon? This is a wedding reception, people are supposed to make out with each other. If nobody hooks up with anyone inappropriate, it's bad luck," Sugar said.
"I love them, but sometimes I want to shake them and say, did none of you learn from our mistakes?" Blaine groaned. "It's like watching the whole Sam, Shane, Mercedes thing all over again."
"Or the whole Finn, Quinn, Rachel thing," Tina added.
"Or Mike, Artie and you," Brittany added.
"Is there anyone in our club who hasn't been in a love triangle with each other?" Tina asked, looking around the room thoughtfully, as if the realization had never occurred to her that the New Directions were the most incestuous club of any high school in history.
"Blaine kissed Rachel once," Brittany commented.
Blaine glared at her. "One drunken party, two years ago and none of you will ever let me live it down."
"I remember that, it was before you realized you loved Kurt," Tina gushed.
"I'm surprised you remember that night at all with how trashed you were," he fired back, only to receive one of Tina's famous glares.
"I can't picture you ever not in love with Kurt," Sugar said. "Ever since I met you, you've been obsessed."
"Oh, he's always been in love with Kurt, he just didn't realize it," Tina said. "He's an idiot when it comes to flirting. Never even realized Sebastian was hitting on him."
"Thanks, Tina," he said, annoyed that they'd started picking on him. "The point is, I think we're bad role models for the kids."
"Not anymore. I'm married to Sam and soon you'll be married to Kurt and you two…" Brittany turned to Tina and Sugar before giving them a sad look. "You'll probably find somebody eventually. Maybe in college?"
"Gee, thanks," Tina said with a roll of her eyes.
"For your information, I'm with Artie," Sugar said, matter of factly.
"And does Artie know that?" Tina spat back.
"We've kissed!"
"Once, three months ago," Tina said with a roll of her eyes.
"What's going on?" Blaine asked, surprised to see the two of them going at each other. They were supposed to be friends, but neither of them was acting like it with the way they were glaring at each other.
"Everyone's gotten weird since you left," Brittany said with a shrug as she picked up a cupcake that had been left on somebody's plate and began eating it, much to Blaine's horror.
"You guys were all friends before I came, it shouldn't matter if I'm there or not," he said.
"No, Brittany's right. Everything's been weird since everyone graduated last year, but at least when you were there it wasn't so noticeable. Now, it's just bad," Tina explained.
"It doesn't help that we lost Sectionals and Sue took over the choir room for Cheerios practice. Not that we blame you, even though you totally ditched us and we had to change our set list last minute and then the pressure made Marley faint," Sugar said.
"I thought Finn had found someplace for you guys to practice," he asked, trying to ignore the guilt he still felt over their sectionals loss. He knew deep down that it wasn't his fault, but he still felt like he could have helped. That if he had been there for his solo, that Marley wouldn't have felt so much pressure to carry the group.
"Yeah, the locker room," Sugar said with a disgusted look on her face. "Do you have any idea how much it smells in there?"
"I don't mind it," Brittany said.
"Of course you don't, you got married there — which I still think is completely gross," Tina said.
"Don't call my wedding gross. That's bullying and I won't stand for it."
"Woah, woah, let's all calm down," Blaine said, feeling a headache coming on. He didn't come to this wedding to play referee. He came to spend time with his friends while he still could.
The girls all looked at each other, nobody offering up an apology, but at least they didn't continue arguing.
"Sam said you were going to come back to school?" Tina asked, thankfully changing the topic.
"We talked about me coming back to Glee, not school," he said. "It wouldn't be every day, but maybe a few times a week, when I'm feeling up to it."
"That's so exciting!" Sugar clapped her hands. "I heard Finn talking to Mercedes about doing a 'diva' themed week for the girls."
"Guys can be divas, too," he said, offended.
"Not if you don't come back and show the boys how it's done," she said.
Blaine could already see himself performing something epic, maybe something by Beyonce. He always did love a good Destiny's Child number and there were plenty of songs he hadn't covered yet. Then again, he should probably find a male artist to show the guys they could be divas too. Something by Queen perhaps.
Yes, definitely something with Freddie Mercury.
"I'll be there," he promised, hoping that he wouldn't have to break it.
"It'll be good to have you back in the choir room again," Tina said.
"It'll be good to be back in the choir room again," he said. "It gets boring staying at home all day long. I miss you guys."
"Aww, Blainey Days," Tina said as they all leaned in for a group hug. Blaine smiled, hoping that whatever tension there was between the girls was temporary. He hated to think that his friends were all fighting while he was away with no idea of what was going on.
A few hours later, Blaine found himself sitting outside of the gymnasium in a dark hallway, trying to force his symptoms to stop for just one night so that he could enjoy some uninterrupted time with his friends for once. He deserved that, at least. Unfortunately, the day had been long for him between radiation in the morning, going over to Kurt's house to talk, having sex, and now the party… His body wasn't used to all the activity anymore. He was exhausted. What used to be daily activities for him now had him feeling like he'd climbed Mt. Everest and barely survived.
He debated calling his mom to come and pick him up. He'd hate to get sick while he was here, however, leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. He was the best man and he needed to be here for Sam, especially if he was going through something. The girls had made a point to tell him that his absence lately had been causing problems. He owed it to his friends to be around more, regardless of how shitty he might feel.
He pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes, hoping to force the migraine away enough so that he could head back inside. His friends expected at least three more solos from him before the night was officially over and he was determined to give it to them.
"Are you hiding from us now?" he heard Sam ask and looked up to see him standing above him, leaning against the wall with a calculating expression, as if he was trying to analyze him.
"I just needed a minute," Blaine said with a smile, hoping Sam wouldn't look too closely and see how worn out he was.
"I could use a rest, too," Sam said, taking a seat next to him. "Who knew wedding receptions could be so exhausting. Everyone keeps wanting to talk to me and offer congratulations and discuss my life plan. I just came here to dance and have a good time."
Blaine patted his shoulder sympathetically and refrained from asking what his life plan was exactly, no matter how curious he was.
"Do you think I can just punch the next person to ask me?" he asked.
"Probably not," Blaine said with a chuckle. "How is married life treating you?"
"Not you, too?"
"Come on, let me live vicariously through you since I'm never going to tie the knot," Blaine said, moving his head until it was resting on Sam's shoulder. It was feeling too heavy to hold up on his own and he didn't want to completely fall over and worry Sam.
"It's pretty awesome," Sam said, sounding genuinely thrilled. "There's a lot of sex."
"I'd hope so," he laughs.
"Yeah, like a lot a lot," he said causing them both to giggle like a group of sixth grade boys. "It's more than that though, I just feel different, now — more alive. Everything is so energized and I feel so close to everyone. Like, whatever happens now, it's okay, because I have this amazing girl beside me that makes me feel understood and cared for and the best friends in the world."
"That sounds nice," Blaine hummed, thinking about this time last year when Finn and Rachel were still making wedding plans and all Blaine could think about was planning a wedding of his own with Kurt.
He'd been so sure they would be together forever. He'd even made him that gum wrapper ring when he realized he didn't have enough money to buy a real one worthy of Kurt. He knew what if felt like to be so in love that the world just warmed at the mere thought of the other person. How could he deny Sam that feeling, misguided marriage or not?
"You don't think you and Kurt will ever…" Sam asked, trailing off before he could quite finish the question, seeming to realize exactly why he might not imagine himself married with children and the white picket fence.
"Get married?" he finished for him, looking up to gage his reaction. This wasn't a conversation that most people were willing to have with him. The idea of him dying was not a topic of conversation he could go into lightly as it tended to make people uncomfortable. When Sam didn't seem to be backing down or shying away, he continued.
"No," he answered. Sam raised his eyebrows, clearly expecting him to explain more. "I couldn't ask him to marry me right now."
"He would," Sam said confidently. Blaine didn't have the heart to tell him that he wasn't as confident of that, not like he used to be.
"I don't know if that makes it better or worse," he said, instead. "It just doesn't seem fair to ask him to marry me when I'm about to die soon."
"We're all about to die soon. Now is the only time," Sam commented and he had to bite his tongue.
It wasn't the same. Sam could sit here and talk about how the Mayan apocalypse was coming and they all needed to say their last words before everyone went down together. He and Brittany could go around saying whatever they wanted to people, no matter how rude or inappropriate it was, and claim they were just purifying themselves for whatever stupid god they were pretending to worship. That was all fun and games.
It was easy to say "now is the only time" and marry your high school girlfriend of only a few weeks when the supposed threat was clearly fake. Blaine couldn't do that. He's case was more serious and he couldn't afford to make such selfish, careless decisions. He constantly had to be aware of the fact that he wouldn't be here in a few months and realize how that would affect people. Blaine was already worried about leaving Kurt behind, he wasn't about to make him into a widower on top of that. His decisions had to revolve less around what would make his last days better and more on how to make the world less horrible when he was gone.
"I don't understand, if the entire world really does end tomorrow, how can you be so okay with that?" he asked.
"Wouldn't you rather die with all of your friends at your side?"
"I'd rather not die," he admitted quietly, so quietly that he wasn't even sure Sam heard him. If he did, he didn't respond. They sat there for a few more minutes. Blaine's headache was still present and he still felt tired, the kind of tired that went deep into his bones, but somehow he didn't notice it at much when he was sitting there with Sam.
"I guess we should probably get back. The girls might pull out each other's hair if we are gone too long," Sam said.
"You know, I didn't realize they weren't getting along until tonight," he commented.
"Yeah, well, there's a lot you don't realize," Sam said off handedly, causing Blaine to do a double take. It wasn't like Sam to make underhanded remarks, he was usually pretty straight forward.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, knowing he couldn't just let it go, not if Sam was going to come clean about what was going on with him.
"Nothing. Let's head back in," he said, starting to stand up before Blaine grabbed his sleeved and forced him back down.
"Sam," he said sternly. "What does that mean?"
"It's nothing," Sam said, earning him a glare. "You're just not at school anymore, so there's bound to be stuff that you miss."
"Like you getting married in a locker room?"
"I thought you showing up tonight meant you were going to be supportive."
"I am supportive, I'm always supportive. I'm your best friend," Blaine said, hurt that Sam might not realize that. "I just hate that you got married and I didn't even know about it until after the fact. You didn't even talk to me about it beforehand. I don't like knowing there's all this huge stuff going on with you guys and I'm at home unaware of any of it."
"You're sick, none of us want to bother you," he said.
"So because I have cancer, it means I don't have to be there for you when you need somebody to talk to?" Blaine asked.
"I'm fine, I don't need anybody to talk to," he said.
"Then why am I getting the feeling that you do?"
"I don't know, what am I supposed to be psychic or something, I've tried that. Lord Tubbington tried to teach me last week, it doesn't work."
Blaine did a double take, but quickly realized they had more important things to discuss than the fact that Sam was letting an overweight cat try to teach him anything.
"Okay, don't be mad at me when I ask this, but what are your plans for the future? What are you going to do after graduation?" he asked, knowing it might cause Sam to kick him out of the party. He couldn't just sit by and say nothing when something was clearly going on.
"I told you the world is ending. I asked you to watch the documentary, I'm not having this argument again. I don't know if you're jealous over my marriage or just hating because we all know you've been crushing on me for weeks—"
"What?" Blaine cut him off, unsure why Sam was suddenly yelling at him or why he was accusing him of lusting after him. He had a boyfriend, thank you very much.
"I'm not listening to this anymore," Sam said, throwing his hands up.
"Okay, first of all, I'm with Kurt," he said, defensively.
Sam just scoffed, causing Blaine to roll his eyes.
"Okay, fine. I might have liked you for like a second," he relented. "But that was my tumor talking because we both know you're hot. Mostly it was just me misplacing my feelings for Kurt after the breakup. Either way, it doesn't matter anymore because we are just friends and I'd really appreciate it if you never bring it up again because Kurt's already got it in his head that we've hooked up or something."
"Whatever," Sam said with a shrug of his shoulders, uncharacteristically blowing him off. It had been a long time since Blaine had truly gotten upset with Sam, certainly not since they'd become friends this year, but he was growing irritated and he was too tired to be having this argument. Still, he couldn't exactly walk away when his friend needed him, no matter how difficult he was being.
"Would you just talk to me?" he pleaded.
"You're supposed to be my best friend, I don't understand why you are pushing this," Sam said.
"And I don't understand why you are acting like this," he said with a deep sigh of frustration. "I know you are worried about the future. I know it must suck to see all of your friends getting their college letters when you haven't even applied, but you can go to college if you want to. You're the one that made the choice not to apply."
"I have the lowest SAT scores at McKinley. Figgins told me that monkeys score higher on the SAT than me," Sam said, causing Blaine to gasp in outrage. He'd known the staff to say some wildly offensive things before, but this was completely unacceptable.
"Okay, first of all, wow," he said, almost at a loss for words. "That's completely inappropriate for a principal to say to a student and I think the school board needs to hear about it. But Sam, you realize there are plenty of colleges that don't require SAT scores to get in."
"My GPA is a 1.2," he deadpanned, looking at him like he'd lost his mind. "Nobody is going to want me."
"So we'll write an awesome admission essay and let them know what an amazing person you are," Blaine said with a smile, trying to cheer him up. "Your SAT score doesn't matter anyway, and if you want to, there are always retests."
"Let's face it, I'm not destined for college and I never will be. Even if I got in, it's not like my family could afford it," he said.
"There's always financial aid and not every scholarship is based on grades," Blaine said, trying to make Sam see that it wasn't the end of the world. He could get into college if he really wanted to. He hated to see his friend get married in high school and potentially knock Brittany up just so that he'd feel like he had purpose in life. There was so much more out there for the world to offer him if he'd just try.
"Why do you even care, you won't be around," he said, and even though Blaine knew Sam didn't mean it to, it still hurt like hell to hear. "Nobody's going to be around. I'm going to be stuck here flipping burgers while everyone's off making something of themselves. I'll be lucky if Mr. Hummel hires me."
"You don't have to live that life unless you want to. There's so much more you can do," he said, feeling his eyes fill up with tears at the thought of Sam living a miserable life just because he didn't realize he could do so much more.
"What? Become a male model? A personal trainer. Brittany said I don't need college because I have a good body. That's all I'm good for."
"Brittany said that? Your wife?" Blaine asked, shocked. He knew Brittany could make some pretty nasty comments occasionally and play it off as cute because she was ditzy. Hell, she'd said some pretty nasty stuff to Blaine on occasion, especially around last year's prom. However, she was always really serious about the use of the word 'stupid' and would rip anybody to shreds that implied she wasn't smart. He couldn't believe she would turn around and imply that Sam was stupid, even if she didn't directly say those words exactly. He had half a mind to storm in there and give her a few choice words of his own, her wedding reception be damned.
"The girl that makes you feel safe and loved basically said you were only good for your body?" he continued, unable to stop now that he'd started. "That's a complete line of crap and I don't know why you are taking college advice from Brittany of all people anyway."
"She has the highest SAT score in the school," Sam said.
"Brittany does?" he scoffed, feeling bad for laughing, but he just couldn't believe that Brittany would have scored higher than the rest of the school. There was no way she's score higher than Artie or Tina, both of whom were the smartest kids in their grade.
"Yep, that's what Figgins told us," Sam said, picking angrily at a loose string on his shirt.
"The girl who failed senior year and continues to have a 0.2 GPA?" he said, needing clarification that they were talking about the same Brittany.
"Are you calling my wife stupid?" Sam said, suddenly defensive.
"She basically called you stupid," he said, having a hard time keeping his voice down.
"You don't get it."
"Then help me. I want to understand so I can help," he said, taking a deep breath to calm his growing temper. He could recognize that the rage he was feeling was likely to do with his tumor and completely unwarranted for the situation, but at the moment he wanted to storm into the gymnasium and flip every table over while screaming at the top of his lungs.
"You don't know what it's like. You're life is perfect," Sam said.
"Seriously?" he asked, looking at him like he'd lost his mind. Perhaps he had. How was his life anything close to perfect.
"I just mean, before you got sick, you had everything. You were all charming and everyone loved you. You kicked ass in school and could sing. Like really sing, not like the rest of us do. You were going places. You never had to worry if you were going to get into college or if people were going to laugh at you behind your back because you said something stupid."
"People love you," Blaine said.
"People like me because I look good. They laugh at my impressions because how I look already has them on board. Do you want to know what having a good body gets you at the end of the day? Nothing. I can't get into college. I can't get a good paying job that's not stripping to help support my family. I can't even be a professional athlete because I wasn't good enough for even the McKinley team."
"Do you really believe all of that?" Blaine asked, surprised. He'd never stopped to think that Sam might be feeling so miserable. He always exuded so much confidence. It hurt to know that inside, Sam was carrying all of this unneeded pain, thinking he wasn't worth anything.
"It's just fact."
"You couldn't be more wrong," Blaine said, to which Sam could only roll his eyes. "You don't get it do you? You might not be book smart, sure. But at the end of the day, what good does that really do you? You get people, Sam. You really understand them and know how to make people smile when they are feeling down."
"Great," Sam scoffed.
"It is great," he cut him off, before he could say otherwise. "Do you know how important people like you are? Do you know how many miserable people there are in the world that need somebody like you to come in and make them smile for the first time in weeks? When I was feeling like crap for cheating on Kurt and feeling like nobody would ever love me again, you made me realize that I wasn't a horrible person. That meant something to me, more than you will ever know."
"So what, you want me to walk around town and make people smile and feel good about themselves?" Sam asked skeptically.
"I want you to go to school and get a job where you can help people. Become a teacher. Be a counselor. Do social work. Help families like yours find their way when they don't know how to put one foot in front of the other. You've experienced so much in your life and you've never let it take you down, don't start now. Not when you could be amazing."
"You have to go to school to be a social worker," Sam said.
"Then go to school," Blaine challenged him.
"What if I apply and I can't get in?"
"Then you go to junior college until you can get your grades up enough to reapply. Get a tutor. Study harder. You are too smart to spend your life flipping burgers or stripping at some club."
"Do you really think I'm smart?" Sam asked, tears in his eyes, but he looked happy.
"I think you're smarter than you give yourself credit for, especially when it comes to people," he said, bumping shoulders with him. "Now come on, let's get back to your party and sing a heartfelt duet in true New Directions fashion."
"Because a fight's never truly over until you settle things in song," Sam laughed. It was an old joke they shared, making fun of how everyone always used their time in Glee for catharsis rather than spend time actually preparing for their competitions ahead of time.
"Of course," he laughed as Sam moved to help him to his feet. "I heard a great number by A Great Big World that would be perfect to express our emotions."
"I've never heard it, but I'm pretty good at winging it on the spot," Sam said. "Let's do it."
Blaine took the crutches that were offered to him and they started making their way back down the hall and towards the gymnasium where the music was pumping loud, party not in any danger of slowing down. Just as they were about to turn corner, Blaine spasmed out of nowhere and found himself falling to his hands and knees. Before he could process what was happening, he was on the floor and he felt dizzy. Not dizzy in the way his headaches usually made him feel, this was different, like he was being pulled in different directions and couldn't control what was happening.
"Blaine!" he heard Sam shout, but it sounded like he was underwater, it was oddly muted.
He tried to call out, but he wasn't sure if he was saying anything or not, he couldn't hear himself. Should he have been able to hear himself?
"Somebody hold him before he hurts himself," he heard somebody say, he wasn't sure who. He couldn't make it out and he wasn't sure why he'd have to be held down.
"Nobody touch him. Tina, put down the phone. His mom said not to call unless it lasts longer than three minutes," Sam ordered everyone around, sounding more distant with every word.
Blaine wanted to tell everyone that he was fine, his muscles had just cramped up as they sometimes did. Then he accidentally bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood and his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he realized that he was seizing.
That's when everything went black.