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You're My Sweetheart

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Blaine was expecting it… but his heart still flips when a pebble bounces off of his bedroom window on Saturday morning and he looks out to see Sam standing down below him.

Blaine swallows hard and grabs his phone off of his bedside table, dialing Sam and watching as Sam takes the call.

“You know, you could have just texted and told me you were here,” he says instead of ‘hello’.

“Dude, where would be the romance in that?” Sam asks, and Blaine feels his heart flip back the way it came.

The decision that Blaine’s been wrestling with? Is the hardest decision, he thinks, that anyone’s ever had to make. But he thinks that he’s made the right one.

“And… you’ve gone really quiet. Does that mean what I think it means?” Sam asks, his tone still light, but Blaine can see how Sam’s gone still and tense.

“Sam…” Blaine wants to say it. Sam needs to hear it, but saying it would make it real, and that’s what Blaine wants - ultimately - but once it’s real, it’s final. And Blaine’s not sure he’s ready for that.

“Can I come in?”


“If you can’t say the words to my face, then I don’t want ‘em,” Sam says, and Blaine would flinch at the edge in his voice, except he can hear the hurt just behind it. Sam’s speaking fast, the way he does when he’s upset.

All Blaine wants to do is make everything okay. He takes a deep breath and forces the words past his lips.

“Sam, my flight leaves this evening. I’m going to New York to-”

Sam hangs up.

Blaine blinks, too shocked at first to move when Sam disappears around the side of Blaine’s house. He’s suddenly, irrationally afraid that Sam’s going to hop back into his truck and disappear before Blaine can finish his sentence, but then he hears Sam pounding at his front door even before the doorbell’s stopped chiming.

Blaine rushes out of his room and down the stairs, not risking stopping to put anything on over the pajama pants and thin t-shirt he’s wearing.

When he opens the door, Sam still has one fist raised as if to keep knocking, but even that doesn’t give Blaine time to say anything before Sam is taking Blaine’s face in his hands and crushing their lips together as he walks Blaine backwards into the house and kicks Blaine’s front door shut behind them.

Blaine’s startled squeak turns into a moan as Sam’s tongue flicks out and over Blaine’s lips, which part reflexively. His hands fist in the front of Sam’s shirt as Sam keeps walking until he’s backed Blaine into a wall.

It’s like something out of a rom com. It’s better even than Blaine’s thought it could be. Than he’s tried - and failed - not to fantasize about, time and time again. Sam tastes like chapstick and peppermint and Sam. His kisses are firm and demanding, but strangely gentle at the same time, like him, and his large hands on Blaine’s face make Blaine ache for touch all over his body.

This is a kiss several months in the making. A kiss Blaine’s been hiding from since the beginning, since-


At once, Blaine remembers why he hasn’t allowed Sam to kiss him before now.

With a breathless cry, he shoves Sam off of him and stares at Sam as Sam stares back, his lips wet and his eyes wide, his pupils dilated.

“Sam! You-”

“I promised I wouldn’t do that,” Sam says, like his brain hasn’t quite caught up with his mouth but it knows what to say anyhow. “I know. Shit, I’m sorry, I know…”

Blaine covers his face with his hands.

“Oh my god…”

His flight to New York is tonight. He’s avoided temptation for months… Done everything he could to do the right thing, and with only hours left-

“Oh my god, Sam…”

“I know, Blaine, I’m-”

“I’m going to New York tonight! All you had to-”

“Don’t.” The urgency in Sam’s voice steals Blaine’s words, steals whatever anger he might be feeling or guilt or regret. Sam is standing in front of Blaine again, his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, and he looks so completely, so suddenly desperate- “Don’t go, Blaine.”

“Sam…” He’s breaking Blaine’s heart. “That’s not-”

“Look, I said I wouldn’t try to make you cheat,” Sam rushes to say, “and I didn’t mean to just now. I just don’t want you to go not knowing how good we could be together… in every way that we could be together.”


“No. Blaine, listen.” Sam takes Blaine’s face in his hands again, but although Blaine tenses, Sam doesn’t kiss him again. He looks Blaine right in the eyes and Blaine literally can’t look away.

“He forgot about you… No, listen, he did! And I don’t know what you two were like when you were together together, but I know what you’re like when you’re with me, and you’re never afraid to tell me when I’m being a jerk, when you need something or when I’ve got my head stuck up my ass.”

Blaine shakes his head, but he can’t help his huff of a laugh. This is probably the oddest attempt anyone’s ever made of wooing someone, which makes it perfectly Sam - and perfect for Blaine.

“That’s because I feel like I can be myself when I’m with you,” Blaine admits.

“Exactly! And you… you’re pretty great,” Sam says, swallowing thickly. His heart is totally in his eyes.

The way he’s looking at Blaine takes Blaine’s breath away.

“Oh, Sam.”

“Don’t choose Kurt,” Sam says. “Don’t go to New York. If- If you’ve decided you don’t really want to be with me, then that’s fine. As long as we can be friends, I’ll deal. I’ll even cut back on the flirting and the- the inappropriate touching and everything. Just don’t keep throwing yourself at some guy who’s not even there to catch you when you fall.”

Blaine has to touch Sam… He just has to. He puts a hand up to Sam’s face. The way Sam leans into his touch, so lightly Blaine can feel it but not see it, makes him feel warm.

“I didn’t decide that I don’t really want to be with you,” Blaine says, hoping that he makes sense.

Sam’s eyes light up, so Blaine supposes that he does.

“But I still have to go to New York…”

Sam flinches, like Blaine’s hit him, right in the stomach, but Blaine grabs him before he can pull away.

“Kurt deserves to hear what I have to say in person,” Blaine says firmly, to make sure that Sam understands him this time. “He’s- I loved him. I’ll always love him as a friend. I can’t break up with him in a phone call or a Skype session, Sam, I won’t.”

Finally, Sam gets it. The expression that takes over his face… It spreads through the air and onto Blaine’s, Blaine’s grin stretching his lips til he can’t believe it still fits on him.

“Are you serious?”

Blaine rolls his eyes, to tease, like it should have been obvious to Sam who Blaine was going to choose. Sam certainly hadn’t acted unsure of himself when he and Blaine met, or at any of the times that he’s flirted with Blaine, coaxed Blaine out of his post-Kurt shell, tormented him with thoughts of what could be, what maybe should be, and slowly redifining Blaine’s idea of what a soul mate means without Blaine’s initially knowing it.

“Sam Evans… If I didn’t know better, I’d think maybe you were worried that-”

Sam cuts Blaine off with a sudden, sharp smack of his lips on Blaine’s.

Then he steps back and smiles into Blaine’s wide eyes. “Okay, that was the last one, I promise,” he says, dragging one finger in an x across his heart.

Slowly, Blaine smiles.

“Until after New York,” he clarifies.

“After New York,” Sam agrees and pulls Blaine to him in a friendly hug.