Blaine wakes up before his alarm. Even though he doesn't have anything special planned until the get-together later at Kurt's, he's too excited to go back to sleep. He sits up in bed and then hurls a pillow across the room, hitting Sam in the face with it. Sam makes what can best be described as a startled grunt as he instinctively pushes the pillow off his face and onto the floor. "What the hell?" he mumbles.
"'What the hell'?" Blaine repeats. "That's how you're going to greet me this morning? Of all mornings?"
Sam rubs his face for several seconds. Finally it dawns on him and he smiles. "Dude, happy birthday!"
Sam closes his eyes again.
Sam reopens one eye. "Yeah?"
"What else were you expecting?" Sam has a present for Blaine, of course, but it isn't even wrapped yet. He was planning on giving it to him at the party tonight. "You want me to sing or something?"
"Of course I want you to sing!"
Sam grumbles a little, but he pushes the covers off and stands up to sing the best rendition of "Happy Birthday" that it's possible to deliver before seven a.m. in boxer shorts.
Blaine claps enthusiastically at the end of the song. He's glad he got over his little crush on Sam. Otherwise it would be weird to have prodded Sam to perform for him in the near-nude. Hell, it would be weird to share a bedroom with Sam and see him every day in the very minimal sleeping attire he likes to wear. But the crush is completely gone, and Blaine feels very not weird about his living arrangements with his best friend who just happens to be a gorgeous underwear model.
"And I suppose you want breakfast in bed? I could make those pancakes like I made for Mercedes's birthday, if you want?"
Blaine sighs to himself, remembering the birthday breakfast in bed Sam made for Mercedes. He's not that much of a cook, but he made blueberry pancakes that actually turned out great and brought them upstairs to her with a little bouquet of flowers he'd picked illegally at the park, and it was all very sweet and romantic. In other words, not the kind of thing platonic friends do for each other. It was the kind of thing Kurt should be doing for him, if Kurt actually wanted to live with him, or had even bothered to invite him to sleep over the night before his birthday...not that Blaine minds or anything. He'll see Kurt later, obviously.
Sam is still watching him, waiting for an answer about the pancakes. It was a genuine offer, apparently, even if the phrasing made it sound sarcastic. "Psh," Blaine says. "Of course not. All I want is for you to worship the birthday boy."
Sam raises his eyebrows. "Oh, really?"
"Yeah. So, you know..." Blaine gestures vaguely at the spot next to his bed.
"I know?" Sam is pretty sure he doesn't know what Blaine is getting at. He's pretty sure that the image that just popped into his head—of himself getting on his knees and giving Blaine a birthday blowjob—is not actually what Blaine is suggesting. Because Blaine is engaged to Kurt, and, yeah, of course Sam regrets that he didn't make a move before that happened, but it's too late now. Anyway, he's happy with Mercedes, even if he's horny all the time, which is probably the only reason his mind leapt to the place it just did.
"Yeah, you know...Bow before the birthday king."
"Hmm." Bowing isn't sexy. If Blaine had said kneel, Sam might just have done it. Luckily Blaine didn't say kneel. Sam is definitely relieved and not disappointed. But that doesn't mean he's going to bow. "I think you're getting too big for your britches."
Blaine laughs. "That's such a weird expression. What even are britches?"
Ignoring the question, Sam sidles across the room. "And I know what you need."
"Me too. I need for you to bow."
"LOL, no." Having now positioned himself right next to the side of the bed Blaine has propped himself up on, Sam lunges as he announces, "Birthday spankings!"
Before Blaine's brain even registers Sam's words, he's pushed over onto his stomach and Sam is on top of him. He feels something against his butt and he goes, "Ow!"
Sam freezes, still straddling Blaine's thighs, one hand on Blaine's hip. "God, I'm sorry! Did that really hurt?"
Now that Blaine has had a second to think about it, he realizes it didn't hurt...like, at all. It was way more of a pat than anything. "No," he admits. "I was just surprised."
"Are you sure? I mean...people don't usually scream 'Ow!' out of surprise."
"Okay, first of all, I didn't scream." Blaine feels pretty awkward having this conversation—would probably feel awkward having any conversation—with Sam pinning him down and leaving his hand lingering there practically on his butt.
Sam waits. He still doesn't move his hand. Eventually he prompts, "Second of all?"
"Second of all..." Okay, Blaine can admit it, if only to himself: he kind of likes the feeling of Sam pinning him down and practically touching his butt. Well, scratch kind of. "Second of all, that didn't hurt. Frankly, it's sort of insulting that that's all you think I can handle. "
A second goes by, maybe two. Then Blaine feels another swat on his ass—more than a pat, but still nowhere near painful. "Hey!" he protests, mostly because he feels like it's expected.
"I don't want you to be insulted." Another swat.
"Honestly I kind of am." Blaine tries to sound indignant about it, but it's hard to pull off indignance when you're pinned face-down and someone is smacking your butt. Well, maybe if he actually felt indignant about his situation he could pull it off...but he sort of feels turned on by it. He sort of hopes he can goad Sam into spanking him harder. Sure enough, down comes the hand again, a little harder than before. This time it is a little painful, but much more than that it's arousing. "What are you trying to do? Tickle me?"
Sam thought that last one was kind of hard, actually. But, hey, if Blaine can barely feel it... He slaps Blaine's ass several times in quick succession. Blaine's ass, Jesus Christ. Not that he's even technically touching it—technically he's only touching the pajama pants—but it's the one part of Blaine's body that he's most obsessed with, and now that he's spanking it, it's all round and warm and firm yet yielding, and he can't help but think of Blaine yielding to him in other ways...
Sam freezes, hand still at the start of its upswing. That sounded like a real ow. Damn, he can't believe he let himself get so carried away.
Blaine freezes too. He didn't want to make Sam stop. Damn, why did he have to let that slip out?
Sam realizes he has to get off of Blaine...a split second too late, apparently, because just as he's shifting to move, Blaine is telling him, "Don't."
"Yeah, sorry, man. I wasn't going to do it again. I was just about to get up."
"No, I mean..." Blaine reaches back and touches Sam's thigh. "Don't get up. Don't stop."
Hesitantly, Sam asks, "You're into it?" If Blaine is into it, then Sam doesn't have to feel that weird about being into it too.
"I..." Oh, God, Blaine can't admit that he's into it. "I mean, it's just a game, right? Like, just a normal birthday thing?"
"Oh...yeah, totally! That's what I meant." Sam waits to see if Blaine is going to say anything else, but there's only awkward silence. So Sam smacks Blaine's butt again—playfully, he hopes—and announces, "Ha! Take that, you...birthday boy! There's no way you can escape!"
Right, it's just a game. Blaine starts to squirm, like he's trying to escape. Sam continues to sit on the back of his thighs and spank him and tease him about how he'll never get away, he may as well just take it, et cetera. Blaine's barely listening, because even though he's getting kind of sore now, he's still really "into" (as Sam correctly guessed) the feeling of Sam touching his ass.
It's when he realizes that he's not really squirming anymore so much as he's humping the mattress that he knows he's let this all go way too far. He needs to actually try to get away, so he lurches forward in an attempt to scoot out from under Sam.
Sam is startled by the sudden movement and the sudden need to actually do something to hold Blaine in place. He tries to grab him, but what he grabs ends up not being Blaine himself but Blaine's pajama pants...which Blaine wiggles right out of. Without thinking, Sam lunges forward and swats Blaine's bare ass.
Blaine lets out a noise that could only be called a moan, even if it doesn't last any longer than the echo of Sam's hand smacking against his skin.
It feels like a really long time, though.
Sam gently places his hand on the small of Blaine's back, up under the pajama top. "Are you into it?" he asks quietly.
"Uh...how much would it freak you out if I were?"
"Not at all! If you're into it, I'll keep going."
"I'm into it," Blaine admits, voice cracking. He's so glad Sam can't see his face right now; it feels like it's way redder than his butt probably is.
"Let's do this properly then." Sam tugs at Blaine's pajamas, tentatively at first, just in case he misunderstood Blaine's muttered response. But when Blaine helpfully shifts so the pants can come off easier, Sam knows he didn't misunderstand and he tears them off and drops them to the floor. He gets off of Blaine, sits on the edge of the bed, and pulls Blaine over his lap as quickly as he can. It's not like he's afraid Blaine will change his mind, but...okay, it's a little like he's afraid Blaine will change his mind. "One for each year, so nineteen." He doesn't exactly say it as a question, but he does wait until Blaine nods before he starts.
Sam doesn't even spank him hard, now that they aren't playing at Blaine wanting to get away or whatever. Maybe Blaine would prefer it hard—Sam has no idea—but Sam prefers it slow. If he could just spend the whole morning touching Blaine's ass—touching Blaine everywhere—he would do it. But he's limited to nineteen swats, so he wants to drag those nineteen out as long as possible.
Blaine knows he shouldn't be doing this. Or, well...letting it be done to him. He knows, obviously, but it's hard to care too much at the moment, because what Sam's doing to him at the moment feels so fucking good. It doesn't hurt at all right now, and even though it's obviously all in Blaine's imagination, it feels almost like Sam is touching him as a boyfriend would. Almost as if Sam were "into it" too.
Almost as if Sam loved him like more than just a bro.
Blaine squirms in Sam's lap, and it's not because it hurts or because he wants to escape or even pretend to escape, but because he has such a raging hard-on that he kind of can't just ignore it. He only hopes Sam will assume it's because it hurts or because he's pretending to want to escape. He hopes Sam won't think he actually wants to escape because then he would stop!
All too soon, though, Sam reaches eighteen and it's almost time to stop anyway. Then with a final—well, it's more like a caress, almost, than a spank—with a final caress Sam announces, "Nineteen." And even when he's done, he leaves his hand spread out across Blaine's ass, fingers spread wide, almost covering the whole thing.
"And one to grow on?" Blaine asks, not even caring that it basically sounds like he's begging.
Sam shouldn't push things too far, he knows, but since Blaine is definitely into it, he summons the nerve to suggest, "Or I could...give you something a little better to grow on."
"I mean, I can feel that you're hard. I could take care of that for you."
"Okay," Blaine agrees instantly. It's almost like he wants to commit himself to accepting before he can think about all the reasons he should decline.
Sam hastily maneuvers Blaine onto his back and pushes up his pajama top so it won't get come on it. He studies Blaine's dick for a minute because while he's thought about it a lot, he's never gotten to really see it for more than a second or two. Like with Blaine's ass, he wishes he could spend all morning touching it. He really wants to put it in his mouth, but he's pretty sure Blaine would consider that too far. Plus, he'd probably be terrible at it, despite Santana's frequent comments about his dick-sucking lips. So he just strokes it lightly with his fingers.
Blaine sucks in a deep breath. Sam is touching his dick! Even though he said he was going to, Blaine kind of can't believe it. Part of Blaine wants to savor this and make it last, but the part of him that needs to to come wins out, and he pushes up against Sam's hand.
Sam wraps his fingers around Blaine's cock. He loves the feel of it in his hand, which is no surprise; he's thought about what it would be like lots of times, and he got over thinking it would be "weird" a long time ago. He knew it would be amazing, but still he's blown away by just how amazing it is. Like...in a way it's better than touching his own cock. He really wants to do that too, though; he's been hard since almost as soon as they started this "game," and then having Blaine writhing around in his lap just drove him crazy.
Sam can't help himself, and he just starts blurting stuff out: "Jesus, Blaine. You're so fucking hot. Your ass, I'm sure you know what an incredible ass you have, but having my hands right on it was so...And no underwear under those fancy PJs!? God, that kills me! And your face! I'm sorry I can't shut up and I don't blame you for closing your eyes and trying to ignore me, I know I'm ruining everything, but I wish you could see your face, how it's all flushed and your eyes are all crinkled up and, fuck, I wish I could kiss you."
Sam's jerking him so perfectly that Blaine's brain is too addled to really follow what he's talking about. But then he's pretty sure that Sam says something about kissing him, and, God, that sounds like the best thing ever. "Sam..." he starts, but before he get get out a yes or a please, his orgasm hits and all he can do is gasp and let go.
Blaine is beautiful when he comes. His come itself is super hot, like how the first couple spurts shoot all the way up onto his chest, and also in the literal sense that the less powerful spurts that spill over Sam's fist are all gooey and warm. But more than that, Sam loves Blaine's face when he comes. It's all red and a little sweaty, and his mouth moves like he's singing. And then when his dick starts to soften, so does his face, and soon it's all relaxed and peaceful.
The peaceful look doesn't last more than a few seconds, though, and soon he's scrunching up his eyebrows. He looks up at Sam and asks, "What was that you were saying? About...you know?"
"Oh." Sam finds it hard to meet Blaine's eyes, so he looks at his chest instead. The streaks of come on it make him want to explode. "Just...you know. Happy birthday."
Sam is lying on his side right next to Blaine, and although they've been touching this whole time, Blaine only just now notices the bulge against his hip. "Sam? Are you hard?"
Is this really news to Blaine? If he didn't notice until now, could Sam get away with denying it? But what's the use, after everything? "Yeah. Of course I am."
"So...all that stuff you were saying?" Blaine did pretty much get the gist of it after all, even if he didn't process it immediately.
"Just ignore me. I got carried away."
Blaine's pretty sure they can't ignore it. He's also pretty sure he's going to have to stop kidding himself about being over his own crush. But maybe right now there's something more important to attend to. "How about if I take care of your, um...'one to grow on'?" He inches his hand toward Sam's boxers.
Sam takes his hand in his own and says, "It's not my birthday, though."
"No, I know it's not your birthday, but..."
"But this was just a birthday thing. Right?"
"I know I said that, but...it seems like it was more than that. You said you wanted to kiss me."
"I did. I do. But...it's complicated."
"Because you're straight?"
"Because you're engaged to Kurt. Because I'm with Mercedes. Because if we do more than the birthday thing, we'd be cheating on them."
They both sit up, facing the window, not each other. "We have to tell them," Blaine all but whispers.
Sam nods for a second but then stops and asks, "Do we? I mean, if it's just a birthday thing..."
"Yeah. But, like...what if we make it more than just a birthday thing?"
"Then, yeah. Then we'd have to tell them. But, like...let's not make it more than just a birthday thing unless you're sure."
Blaine does look at Sam now, though Sam is still looking out the window. "Unless I'm sure?"
"I know what I want. You're the one who's engaged."
"Sam, are you saying..."
"Blaine," Sam looks at him finally. "I know we have to talk it through. But can I shower and get dressed first? Maybe I can take you to breakfast? Or would that be like a date? No, it would be normal for me to buy you breakfast because it's your birthday. So, okay? I'll be out of the shower in ten minutes."
"Yeah. That makes sense. But I think I need a shower more than you."
"You do need one too," Sam agrees, seeing how Blaine is holding the now come-soaked pajama top over his junk. "But believe me when I tell you I need one first."
"Why do...oh. Right. Yeah, I'll wait here."