Fic: Don't Look Back (Prologue) - Glee, Chuck!AU, Blaine/Sam, PG
So I wrote this little bit for scripps back in February, and failed to post it here, and now I'm thinking about writing more (flashed forward five years). It's a Chuck!AU in which Sam is the sweet boy next door not so much unlike a certain Bartowski of our acquaintance, Blaine has secrets, and you get to guess who among the New Directions become Casey and Sarah-esque assassings for the sake of the universe (for now).
Title: Don't Look Back: Prologue
Fandom: Glee (Chuck!AU)
Pairing: Blam
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3k +
Original Post
Sam Evans is a big believer in paying it forward.
He's been really blessed in his life... Maybe some wouldn't see it that way, but Sam certainly does. Sure, Sam's parents moved around a lot, for work, when Sam was young; sometimes leaving Sam to take care of his younger siblings, Stevie and Stacey, for long periods of time. Sometimes money was tight... Sam wasn't sure he could afford to go to college when that time came, even if he made the grades he needed to get into a college worth saving up for.
But things have always worked out. Wherever Sam's family went, he always felt safe and loved, and those were the most important things. Sam got a scholarship to one of the best schools in the country, and now he's living in one of the most exciting places in the world. He's pursuing a career in the field that he loves... and he's got some of the best friends that he could ask for.
And now one of those friends needs his help.
Blaine Anderson is Sam's best friend these days. They've been rooming together since sophomore year, and they spend most of their free time together.
Or they did... Lately Sam has seen less of Blaine than he's used to. Besides the fact that Sam misses his bro, this is a problem because Blaine's never before been a hard guy to get some face time with. Not for Sam. And he's never kept things from Sam like where he goes when he isn't in class and when he and Sam aren't hanging out together.
Something is obviously wrong and Sam is almost certain he knows what it is.
So Sam decides he must confront Blaine about it. He's sure that Blaine would do the same for him.
After all... isn't that what a best bro is for?
Before you can ask the obvious question: how could Sam possibly help Blaine Anderson? Captain of his all male choir and the Stanford Collegiate Boxing team (as well as the men's gymnastics team) and a candidate for the Dean's list with a near perfect GPA...
Well. To be honest, Sam doesn't know why he's the guy Blaine lets call him out on shit and have his back.
Sam's not exactly a wallflower. He was the quarterback at his high school and the captain of the synchronized swimming team; his glee club went to Nationals twice in show choir. He dated the head cheerleader and all that, but McKinley High School was no Stanford University. The classes here are so much harder than his classes were in high school... and Sam thought the classes at McKinley were pretty hard. He has no time for sports these days; he has no time for dating. In high school, Sam was relatively popular. But out here, in the real world... at Stanford- Sam's not all that special.
At least, Sam doesn't think so.
Now Blaine... Blaine is someone special. Someone everyone looks to when he walks into a room. Blaine is charming, talented... He's a born performer.
The thing is, he's a normal guy too. He'll spend hours talking comic books and watching action flicks with Sam, he gets all of Sam's pop culture references and he loves Sam's impressions. He roots for the same football teams that Sam does and he's the only one of Sam's friends who'll stay up all night playing Gears of War with Sam.
Blaine never gives Sam crap for liking country music... So long as Sam listens to lots of Freddy Mercury and Katie Perry with him, and sings along now and then. Blaine doesn't mind that Sam leaves Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issues all over their dorm because Sam watches Project Runway with him and Tivos anything with guys in it who Blaine has deemed hot.
Blaine never makes Sam feel stupid. In fact, Blaine is the reason that Sam has the major he was afraid he wasn't smart enough to get a degree in before he met Blaine.
Sam thinks Blaine is super awesome. Way more so than Sam himself... But Sam knows that Blaine is human, too.
And that evening he heads out to the gym where he knows Blaine is working out (he had a girl in his poli sci class follow Blaine around campus and text Sam his location) to ask Blaine about the very human problem his bro seems to be having.
As he walks across campus to the gymnastics center, Sam thinks about the day he met Blaine Anderson.
He was sitting on a bench out on the quad... stacks of books spread out around him, absorbed in his studies. Studying isn't really one of Sam's strong suits, but he'd learned one important thing during his brief stint in high school as a male stripper (besides never to get body glitter in your mouth; it hurts when it gets between your teeth). And that is that the first step to doing anything you don't know how to do is to look the part.
So Sam had gotten himself some black-framed reading glasses and made a point of sitting somewhere alone with his books at least twice a week, just reviewing what he'd done that week and what his tutor had given him during their last session.
Sam usually chose the quad for this. He got distracted too easily in his dorm, and he felt pressured in the library - as if the campus librarians were judging him while he worked.
Sam was vaguely aware of a game of football going on nearby, but he was too caught up in his book on English feminism to pay much attention to it. Even when he heard a dull thud close to his right and a football rolled right up to his feet.
Someone came running towards him and a pleasant voice said, "Hey, could you-"
And Sam just reacted. He scooped up the ball and tossed it towards the voice in a forceful spiral pass that would have made Coach Beiste proud when Sam was playing for the Titans.
It was only after he heard a soft "oomph" and the familiar sound of a body hitting turf that Sam realized he'd probably just knocked the guy who'd spoken to him onto his ass. He'd probably been expecting Sam to toss him the ball, after all... not send it flying back at him in an end-zone worthy pass.
Sure enough, Sam looked up to see a short but athletic-looking guy with dark, curly hair waving away the help of his friends as he picked himself up off the ground. Sam felt himself flush and pushed his books and papers aside. The guy looked surprised, but not angry - he laughed as he tossed the ball to one of his buddies and walked nearer to Sam as Sam hurried over to him.
Still Sam found himself quickly apologizing. "Dude... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"No, don't worry about it," the guy - Blaine - said back. His voice sounded as pleasant as it had before, and the show choir geek in Sam instantly catalogued it as a tenor.
"Really, are you alright? Here, let me..."
Sam started brushing grass and dirt off of Blaine's Stanford U sweatshirt and jeans, not picking up on the awkwardness in Blaine's voice right away as Blaine said, "Uh, it's- it's fine. My pride is the only thing bruised I think."
"Totally don't worry about it," he reassured Blaine, continuing the tidying. "Beiste - my football coach back in Ohio - she always said I threw the best when I wasn't thinking while I did it. You must be a pretty good catch if you didn't take the ball to the face. That's what happened to my friend Finn the last time I threw something at him without looking and-"
Sam was just thinking that Blaine, for all that he's a good head shorter than Sam, had nothing for his pride to get bruised over. He's short but he's compact... Sam felt the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders as he patted Blaine down.
The tension in those muscles alerted Sam to the fact that groping a guy in public is probably not a good way to apologize for belting him with a football.
"-and I'm totally feeling you up right now. Dude. I'm-"
"Sorry," Blaine laughed, looking anything but offended. "So you've said." Then he leaned in a little and wagged his eyebrows at Sam. Later, when Sam realized that Blaine is gay, he'd realize that Blaine had been flirting with him when he said, "Believe me... I'm not bothered."
Obliviously, Sam rambled. "Seriously. I'm not, like, hitting on you or anything. I'm straight. I just... I got you all dirty and-" Sam saw Blaine's eyes widen minutely and resisted the urge to bite his own tongue, literally. "Okay, I'm shutting up now."
Blaine laughed again. "Like I said, it's fine. It's not everyone who can take me down without even looking. Throw like that on the field, and the Cardinal will have a great season this year."
One of the best things about Blaine, Sam has learned over the years, is that - as much as he loves to be the center of everybody's attention - he can also make a person feel like the absolute center of his attention like nobody else Sam has met.
There they were, talking like old friends catching up (or a couple on a speed date - minus the awkwardness and the timer) and Blaine didn't once so much as look back at the game he'd abandoned to hang out with a complete stranger.
Blaine's friends didn't act like it was unusual for Blaine to drop everything to give someone his undivided attention either. And over time Sam would come to understand that it wasn't.
Blaine, Sam can safely say, is the best thing that's happened to Sam since coming to Stanford. When Sam explained that he didn't play ball because he struggles to keep up in his classes without the distractions of extracurriculars, Blaine hooked Sam up with a tutor. (Literally. Sam and Quinn are now dating.)
When Blaine caught Sam reading through one of his textbooks - for a class that Sam hadn't thought himself smart enough to take - Blaine encouraged Sam to register in the next semester. Now Sam's majoring in experimental programming. Turns out, when it comes to a subject Sam can have fun with (and who can't have fun talking about video games all day?) he really isn't all that stupid.
He's certainly not dumb enough to take Blaine's excuses for the weird way he's been acting lately at face value. It would be one thing if Blaine were suddenly absent for so many bro's nights and weekends - sometimes slipping out of the dorms in the middle of the night as Sam slept - because he was stressing over a super tough class or dating a new guy. But Blaine's got, like, a 4.0 gpa, and the classes he's taking this semester are cake to a guy like him. Blaine hasn't dated in a long time... he gets all quiet whenever Sam asks him about it, so Sam doesn't bring it up often, but Blaine knows that Sam would be completely supportive if Blaine was seeing somebody. He knows he doesn't have to keep any kind of relationship secret from Sam.
So, combined with the bruises Sam saw on Blaine's back, the other day at the gym when he accidentally walked in on Blaine in the shower... Sam can only think of one thing that could be the problem.
He approaches Blaine as soon as he reaches the gym. Blaine's working a bag in the weight room, and no one else is around, so Sam figures he can just say his piece here instead of spending a lot of time trying to talk Blaine into going for a walk with him or coming back to the dorm room.
He isn't trying to sneak up on Blaine or anything... Really, he's not. He doesn't call out when he walks through the door, but Sam's kind of used to being noticed under most circumstances. He's tall and bleach-blonde, and being Blaine's friend has given him a sort of quasi-celebrity status at the Stanford athletics complex. (Plus there was that time Sam developed a tendency to go shirtless in unseasonable weather. His freak-out over a failed course was manifesting itself as a body issue.)
Plus, Blaine has almost creepy, cat-like senses when it comes to noticing what's going on around him. Sam only noticed it recently, and it's incredibly cool, so he's only somewhat ashamed that he likes to test it from time to time.
This time, Blaine's senses seem to fail him. Sam walks up behind him and puts a hand on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine's skin is slick with sweat... he's grunting as he throws each punch at the bag. Sam can't really say why that makes him more nervous about confronting Blaine than he was before - butterflies swarming around in his stomach. He's not afraid of Blaine getting mad and punching him. Blaine is strong and fast, but he's Sam's best friend. Sam knows Blaine could never make Sam mad enough to hurt him.
Then again... Sam wonders if he should rethink things, when Blaine startles and suddenly Sam is lying flat on his back on a mat nearby, Blaine's body on top of his. Blaine's got one arm pressed, just this side of too tight, against Sam's throat, and the other is tangled up with the arm Sam reached out towards him with.
There's a look on Blaine's face that Sam's never seen before and it makes the butterflies freak before it disappears, leaving shock and confusion in its place.
"Sam?! What are you- I didn't-"
"Yeah, I get that," Sam says, in as even a voice as he can manage beneath the pressure on his windpipe. "Dude. You gymnastics guys move quick."
Blaine moves almost as quickly scrambling off of Sam's body. That Sam feels sort of sorry to lose the warmth and the weight of him is one of the weird things Sam's noticed about himself. But tonight isn't about Sam... It's about Blaine, and Sam pushes aside any strangeness he feels to sit up and rub his neck as Blaine stutters through an apology.
"Sam! I- I'm so sorry! Really, oh my god, I can't believe I-"
"No problem." Sam thinks again about the day they met ("Believe me... I'm not bothered") and grins, although the thought doesn't help the state of his stomach. "But seriously... Bro, you've gotta lay off the capuccinos. I know that dude at the campus coffee shop is, like, cute or whatever, but you're way too jumpy."
That breaks through the embarrassment and the horror in Blaine's expression and he actually smiles. "I guess I am," he says, before an odd seriousness enters his eyes again. "Sam, what are you even doing here? I thought you were going to bed early. You've got a big test tomorrow in Professor Flemming's class."
Sam lifts up a hand and Blaine takes it, pulling Sam to his feet. Sam doesn't know if he's imaging the flush that seems to spread over Blaine's skin when Sam doesn't pull his hand away as soon as he's standing (Blaine's still pretty flushed from his workout) but he keeps holding on until Blaine pulls away, just to see.
"I know you hate Flemming for some weird reason," Sam says, because Blaine does; no matter how he denies it, Sam can tell. "But he's really not that bad. And his tests are super easy. It's crazy. I don't know why everybody bitches about them. I've aced every one so far." Blaine doesn't look comforted, but that's not Sam's real concern here in any case. "Anyway, dude. We've got something much more important to talk about than Flemming and tests."
"Like what?" Sam can actually see Blaine's guard going up. (If the situation was more light-hearted, Sam would probably be teasing Blaine about it and imitating a green shirt. 'Shields at 85%, Cap'n.') The air is suddenly too tense for impersonations, but Sam's not gonna let that deter him this time. He takes another step towards Blaine and puts up his own guards. His no-big-brown-eyes-or-voice-of-reason-is-gonna-keep-putting-me-off look.
"Like why you spend more time working out than anything else these days," Sam says, to start. "Dude, I'm the one with the eating disorder, remember? If you're obsessing over abs and quads more than me? That's not right."
'Shields at 85% and holding.' Blaine barely blinks. "I'm not obsessing."
"No? And where do you go all the time? I know you didn't just head out super early all those mornings I asked you why you weren't there when I got up. I've seen you sneaking out of the dorms at night, Blaine. You thought you'd wear me out playing video games all night, or watching movies, like old times, so I wouldn't notice, right? Well, I did."
"Sam..." Blaine listens to Sam lay out the evidence before him, that cool mask slipping little by little. He looks concerned, then worried... slowly moving towards clearly freaked out, even- Sam can't wrap his head around it, but Blaine actually looks scared.
'Forty-five percent and buckling!'
"You come back acting all messed up... Not, you know, messed up for a normal person. But messed up for you. All quiet and sad, although you act like nothing's the matter... I know you, dude. I know your eyes, I know your smile... I know when something's not right, and something hasn't been right with you since Coop-"
"Shut up, Sam."
Sam's starting to ramble. He knows that. He knows he's probably saying too much... things he isn't ready to hear himself, but once he's gotten himself worked up, he can't seem to work himself back down. Not about this.
Sam puts his hands on both of Blaine's shoulders and looks Blaine straight in his panicked eyes, not even caring what might be showing in his own.
"I know you miss him, man. It sucks, that he's, like, the only person in your family who made you feel like you mattered, and he's gone." Sam's tongue starts to feel thick, but he makes himself keep talking. This is the most important thing he has to say. "But- But you do matter, Blaine. You matter to me... And getting yourself hurt isn't going to bring Cooper back."
Blaine hasn't fought off Sam's touch. Hasn't shaken his head or done anything else to deny what Sam is saying. But his shoulders are tense. Sam's heard the word coiled used to describe a person, and for the first time he can see how that works. Sam can't help but feel that he's losing this argument although he's the only one taking part in it so far.
"I'm not going to get hurt," Blaine says, and he doesn't even bother to sound like he believes it.
"Dude, I've seen the bruises!" Sam says, throwing up his hands. He's that frustrated that he's brought up the only thing that they don't talk about besides whatever phase Blaine is going through. "You're already hurting! And I can't stand it... I don't know why you'd get yourself mixed up in something like this!"
Blaine- Well, Sam has no words for what Blaine does. He was tense before, now he's like stone. He's absolutely frozen. Sam doesn't notice right away. "Look, I know you're not supposed to talk about it and everything, but-"
Then Blaine is knocking Sam's hands off of his shoulders and grabbing Sam by the face.
For a moment Sam can't think. He's just sure that Blaine is going to kiss him. And in the next moment, Blaine is in Sam's face, radiating intensity. "Sam, stop talking right now."
Sam's never heard Blaine's voice so... So take charge. So no-messing-around. Not even while calling plays during a game or choreographing a number with his choir group. Sam can't help but listen; nevermind what else the voice does to him. "What do you know that I'm not suppose to talk about?" Blaine continues.
He looks angry. But Sam knows Blaine when he's angry, and angry, Blaine just looks like he's pouting; he tilts his head a lot like he's turning his nose up at what got him angry, and he glares through half-lids. Right now Sam gets the feeling that Blaine is scared in a way that Sam was just guessing at before.
It seems like an overreaction to Sam.
At least he hopes it is.
"This fight club you've joined," Sam says, keeping his voice hushed just in case. "I know you said you had one back in Ohio, but Blaine. California's different. There are bikers out here, and drug dealers. And, dude, this one time on the news-"
Blaine interrupts Sam with a laugh.
And not just a laugh... a burst of happy, so loud and so- so bright, it's almost like singing.
And then Blaine kisses Sam.
[tbc]
Title: Don't Look Back: Prologue
Fandom: Glee (Chuck!AU)
Pairing: Blam
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3k +
Original Post
Sam Evans is a big believer in paying it forward.
He's been really blessed in his life... Maybe some wouldn't see it that way, but Sam certainly does. Sure, Sam's parents moved around a lot, for work, when Sam was young; sometimes leaving Sam to take care of his younger siblings, Stevie and Stacey, for long periods of time. Sometimes money was tight... Sam wasn't sure he could afford to go to college when that time came, even if he made the grades he needed to get into a college worth saving up for.
But things have always worked out. Wherever Sam's family went, he always felt safe and loved, and those were the most important things. Sam got a scholarship to one of the best schools in the country, and now he's living in one of the most exciting places in the world. He's pursuing a career in the field that he loves... and he's got some of the best friends that he could ask for.
And now one of those friends needs his help.
Blaine Anderson is Sam's best friend these days. They've been rooming together since sophomore year, and they spend most of their free time together.
Or they did... Lately Sam has seen less of Blaine than he's used to. Besides the fact that Sam misses his bro, this is a problem because Blaine's never before been a hard guy to get some face time with. Not for Sam. And he's never kept things from Sam like where he goes when he isn't in class and when he and Sam aren't hanging out together.
Something is obviously wrong and Sam is almost certain he knows what it is.
So Sam decides he must confront Blaine about it. He's sure that Blaine would do the same for him.
After all... isn't that what a best bro is for?
Before you can ask the obvious question: how could Sam possibly help Blaine Anderson? Captain of his all male choir and the Stanford Collegiate Boxing team (as well as the men's gymnastics team) and a candidate for the Dean's list with a near perfect GPA...
Well. To be honest, Sam doesn't know why he's the guy Blaine lets call him out on shit and have his back.
Sam's not exactly a wallflower. He was the quarterback at his high school and the captain of the synchronized swimming team; his glee club went to Nationals twice in show choir. He dated the head cheerleader and all that, but McKinley High School was no Stanford University. The classes here are so much harder than his classes were in high school... and Sam thought the classes at McKinley were pretty hard. He has no time for sports these days; he has no time for dating. In high school, Sam was relatively popular. But out here, in the real world... at Stanford- Sam's not all that special.
At least, Sam doesn't think so.
Now Blaine... Blaine is someone special. Someone everyone looks to when he walks into a room. Blaine is charming, talented... He's a born performer.
The thing is, he's a normal guy too. He'll spend hours talking comic books and watching action flicks with Sam, he gets all of Sam's pop culture references and he loves Sam's impressions. He roots for the same football teams that Sam does and he's the only one of Sam's friends who'll stay up all night playing Gears of War with Sam.
Blaine never gives Sam crap for liking country music... So long as Sam listens to lots of Freddy Mercury and Katie Perry with him, and sings along now and then. Blaine doesn't mind that Sam leaves Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issues all over their dorm because Sam watches Project Runway with him and Tivos anything with guys in it who Blaine has deemed hot.
Blaine never makes Sam feel stupid. In fact, Blaine is the reason that Sam has the major he was afraid he wasn't smart enough to get a degree in before he met Blaine.
Sam thinks Blaine is super awesome. Way more so than Sam himself... But Sam knows that Blaine is human, too.
And that evening he heads out to the gym where he knows Blaine is working out (he had a girl in his poli sci class follow Blaine around campus and text Sam his location) to ask Blaine about the very human problem his bro seems to be having.
As he walks across campus to the gymnastics center, Sam thinks about the day he met Blaine Anderson.
He was sitting on a bench out on the quad... stacks of books spread out around him, absorbed in his studies. Studying isn't really one of Sam's strong suits, but he'd learned one important thing during his brief stint in high school as a male stripper (besides never to get body glitter in your mouth; it hurts when it gets between your teeth). And that is that the first step to doing anything you don't know how to do is to look the part.
So Sam had gotten himself some black-framed reading glasses and made a point of sitting somewhere alone with his books at least twice a week, just reviewing what he'd done that week and what his tutor had given him during their last session.
Sam usually chose the quad for this. He got distracted too easily in his dorm, and he felt pressured in the library - as if the campus librarians were judging him while he worked.
Sam was vaguely aware of a game of football going on nearby, but he was too caught up in his book on English feminism to pay much attention to it. Even when he heard a dull thud close to his right and a football rolled right up to his feet.
Someone came running towards him and a pleasant voice said, "Hey, could you-"
And Sam just reacted. He scooped up the ball and tossed it towards the voice in a forceful spiral pass that would have made Coach Beiste proud when Sam was playing for the Titans.
It was only after he heard a soft "oomph" and the familiar sound of a body hitting turf that Sam realized he'd probably just knocked the guy who'd spoken to him onto his ass. He'd probably been expecting Sam to toss him the ball, after all... not send it flying back at him in an end-zone worthy pass.
Sure enough, Sam looked up to see a short but athletic-looking guy with dark, curly hair waving away the help of his friends as he picked himself up off the ground. Sam felt himself flush and pushed his books and papers aside. The guy looked surprised, but not angry - he laughed as he tossed the ball to one of his buddies and walked nearer to Sam as Sam hurried over to him.
Still Sam found himself quickly apologizing. "Dude... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"No, don't worry about it," the guy - Blaine - said back. His voice sounded as pleasant as it had before, and the show choir geek in Sam instantly catalogued it as a tenor.
"Really, are you alright? Here, let me..."
Sam started brushing grass and dirt off of Blaine's Stanford U sweatshirt and jeans, not picking up on the awkwardness in Blaine's voice right away as Blaine said, "Uh, it's- it's fine. My pride is the only thing bruised I think."
"Totally don't worry about it," he reassured Blaine, continuing the tidying. "Beiste - my football coach back in Ohio - she always said I threw the best when I wasn't thinking while I did it. You must be a pretty good catch if you didn't take the ball to the face. That's what happened to my friend Finn the last time I threw something at him without looking and-"
Sam was just thinking that Blaine, for all that he's a good head shorter than Sam, had nothing for his pride to get bruised over. He's short but he's compact... Sam felt the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders as he patted Blaine down.
The tension in those muscles alerted Sam to the fact that groping a guy in public is probably not a good way to apologize for belting him with a football.
"-and I'm totally feeling you up right now. Dude. I'm-"
"Sorry," Blaine laughed, looking anything but offended. "So you've said." Then he leaned in a little and wagged his eyebrows at Sam. Later, when Sam realized that Blaine is gay, he'd realize that Blaine had been flirting with him when he said, "Believe me... I'm not bothered."
Obliviously, Sam rambled. "Seriously. I'm not, like, hitting on you or anything. I'm straight. I just... I got you all dirty and-" Sam saw Blaine's eyes widen minutely and resisted the urge to bite his own tongue, literally. "Okay, I'm shutting up now."
Blaine laughed again. "Like I said, it's fine. It's not everyone who can take me down without even looking. Throw like that on the field, and the Cardinal will have a great season this year."
One of the best things about Blaine, Sam has learned over the years, is that - as much as he loves to be the center of everybody's attention - he can also make a person feel like the absolute center of his attention like nobody else Sam has met.
There they were, talking like old friends catching up (or a couple on a speed date - minus the awkwardness and the timer) and Blaine didn't once so much as look back at the game he'd abandoned to hang out with a complete stranger.
Blaine's friends didn't act like it was unusual for Blaine to drop everything to give someone his undivided attention either. And over time Sam would come to understand that it wasn't.
Blaine, Sam can safely say, is the best thing that's happened to Sam since coming to Stanford. When Sam explained that he didn't play ball because he struggles to keep up in his classes without the distractions of extracurriculars, Blaine hooked Sam up with a tutor. (Literally. Sam and Quinn are now dating.)
When Blaine caught Sam reading through one of his textbooks - for a class that Sam hadn't thought himself smart enough to take - Blaine encouraged Sam to register in the next semester. Now Sam's majoring in experimental programming. Turns out, when it comes to a subject Sam can have fun with (and who can't have fun talking about video games all day?) he really isn't all that stupid.
He's certainly not dumb enough to take Blaine's excuses for the weird way he's been acting lately at face value. It would be one thing if Blaine were suddenly absent for so many bro's nights and weekends - sometimes slipping out of the dorms in the middle of the night as Sam slept - because he was stressing over a super tough class or dating a new guy. But Blaine's got, like, a 4.0 gpa, and the classes he's taking this semester are cake to a guy like him. Blaine hasn't dated in a long time... he gets all quiet whenever Sam asks him about it, so Sam doesn't bring it up often, but Blaine knows that Sam would be completely supportive if Blaine was seeing somebody. He knows he doesn't have to keep any kind of relationship secret from Sam.
So, combined with the bruises Sam saw on Blaine's back, the other day at the gym when he accidentally walked in on Blaine in the shower... Sam can only think of one thing that could be the problem.
He approaches Blaine as soon as he reaches the gym. Blaine's working a bag in the weight room, and no one else is around, so Sam figures he can just say his piece here instead of spending a lot of time trying to talk Blaine into going for a walk with him or coming back to the dorm room.
He isn't trying to sneak up on Blaine or anything... Really, he's not. He doesn't call out when he walks through the door, but Sam's kind of used to being noticed under most circumstances. He's tall and bleach-blonde, and being Blaine's friend has given him a sort of quasi-celebrity status at the Stanford athletics complex. (Plus there was that time Sam developed a tendency to go shirtless in unseasonable weather. His freak-out over a failed course was manifesting itself as a body issue.)
Plus, Blaine has almost creepy, cat-like senses when it comes to noticing what's going on around him. Sam only noticed it recently, and it's incredibly cool, so he's only somewhat ashamed that he likes to test it from time to time.
This time, Blaine's senses seem to fail him. Sam walks up behind him and puts a hand on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine's skin is slick with sweat... he's grunting as he throws each punch at the bag. Sam can't really say why that makes him more nervous about confronting Blaine than he was before - butterflies swarming around in his stomach. He's not afraid of Blaine getting mad and punching him. Blaine is strong and fast, but he's Sam's best friend. Sam knows Blaine could never make Sam mad enough to hurt him.
Then again... Sam wonders if he should rethink things, when Blaine startles and suddenly Sam is lying flat on his back on a mat nearby, Blaine's body on top of his. Blaine's got one arm pressed, just this side of too tight, against Sam's throat, and the other is tangled up with the arm Sam reached out towards him with.
There's a look on Blaine's face that Sam's never seen before and it makes the butterflies freak before it disappears, leaving shock and confusion in its place.
"Sam?! What are you- I didn't-"
"Yeah, I get that," Sam says, in as even a voice as he can manage beneath the pressure on his windpipe. "Dude. You gymnastics guys move quick."
Blaine moves almost as quickly scrambling off of Sam's body. That Sam feels sort of sorry to lose the warmth and the weight of him is one of the weird things Sam's noticed about himself. But tonight isn't about Sam... It's about Blaine, and Sam pushes aside any strangeness he feels to sit up and rub his neck as Blaine stutters through an apology.
"Sam! I- I'm so sorry! Really, oh my god, I can't believe I-"
"No problem." Sam thinks again about the day they met ("Believe me... I'm not bothered") and grins, although the thought doesn't help the state of his stomach. "But seriously... Bro, you've gotta lay off the capuccinos. I know that dude at the campus coffee shop is, like, cute or whatever, but you're way too jumpy."
That breaks through the embarrassment and the horror in Blaine's expression and he actually smiles. "I guess I am," he says, before an odd seriousness enters his eyes again. "Sam, what are you even doing here? I thought you were going to bed early. You've got a big test tomorrow in Professor Flemming's class."
Sam lifts up a hand and Blaine takes it, pulling Sam to his feet. Sam doesn't know if he's imaging the flush that seems to spread over Blaine's skin when Sam doesn't pull his hand away as soon as he's standing (Blaine's still pretty flushed from his workout) but he keeps holding on until Blaine pulls away, just to see.
"I know you hate Flemming for some weird reason," Sam says, because Blaine does; no matter how he denies it, Sam can tell. "But he's really not that bad. And his tests are super easy. It's crazy. I don't know why everybody bitches about them. I've aced every one so far." Blaine doesn't look comforted, but that's not Sam's real concern here in any case. "Anyway, dude. We've got something much more important to talk about than Flemming and tests."
"Like what?" Sam can actually see Blaine's guard going up. (If the situation was more light-hearted, Sam would probably be teasing Blaine about it and imitating a green shirt. 'Shields at 85%, Cap'n.') The air is suddenly too tense for impersonations, but Sam's not gonna let that deter him this time. He takes another step towards Blaine and puts up his own guards. His no-big-brown-eyes-or-voice-of-reason-is-gonna-keep-putting-me-off look.
"Like why you spend more time working out than anything else these days," Sam says, to start. "Dude, I'm the one with the eating disorder, remember? If you're obsessing over abs and quads more than me? That's not right."
'Shields at 85% and holding.' Blaine barely blinks. "I'm not obsessing."
"No? And where do you go all the time? I know you didn't just head out super early all those mornings I asked you why you weren't there when I got up. I've seen you sneaking out of the dorms at night, Blaine. You thought you'd wear me out playing video games all night, or watching movies, like old times, so I wouldn't notice, right? Well, I did."
"Sam..." Blaine listens to Sam lay out the evidence before him, that cool mask slipping little by little. He looks concerned, then worried... slowly moving towards clearly freaked out, even- Sam can't wrap his head around it, but Blaine actually looks scared.
'Forty-five percent and buckling!'
"You come back acting all messed up... Not, you know, messed up for a normal person. But messed up for you. All quiet and sad, although you act like nothing's the matter... I know you, dude. I know your eyes, I know your smile... I know when something's not right, and something hasn't been right with you since Coop-"
"Shut up, Sam."
Sam's starting to ramble. He knows that. He knows he's probably saying too much... things he isn't ready to hear himself, but once he's gotten himself worked up, he can't seem to work himself back down. Not about this.
Sam puts his hands on both of Blaine's shoulders and looks Blaine straight in his panicked eyes, not even caring what might be showing in his own.
"I know you miss him, man. It sucks, that he's, like, the only person in your family who made you feel like you mattered, and he's gone." Sam's tongue starts to feel thick, but he makes himself keep talking. This is the most important thing he has to say. "But- But you do matter, Blaine. You matter to me... And getting yourself hurt isn't going to bring Cooper back."
Blaine hasn't fought off Sam's touch. Hasn't shaken his head or done anything else to deny what Sam is saying. But his shoulders are tense. Sam's heard the word coiled used to describe a person, and for the first time he can see how that works. Sam can't help but feel that he's losing this argument although he's the only one taking part in it so far.
"I'm not going to get hurt," Blaine says, and he doesn't even bother to sound like he believes it.
"Dude, I've seen the bruises!" Sam says, throwing up his hands. He's that frustrated that he's brought up the only thing that they don't talk about besides whatever phase Blaine is going through. "You're already hurting! And I can't stand it... I don't know why you'd get yourself mixed up in something like this!"
Blaine- Well, Sam has no words for what Blaine does. He was tense before, now he's like stone. He's absolutely frozen. Sam doesn't notice right away. "Look, I know you're not supposed to talk about it and everything, but-"
Then Blaine is knocking Sam's hands off of his shoulders and grabbing Sam by the face.
For a moment Sam can't think. He's just sure that Blaine is going to kiss him. And in the next moment, Blaine is in Sam's face, radiating intensity. "Sam, stop talking right now."
Sam's never heard Blaine's voice so... So take charge. So no-messing-around. Not even while calling plays during a game or choreographing a number with his choir group. Sam can't help but listen; nevermind what else the voice does to him. "What do you know that I'm not suppose to talk about?" Blaine continues.
He looks angry. But Sam knows Blaine when he's angry, and angry, Blaine just looks like he's pouting; he tilts his head a lot like he's turning his nose up at what got him angry, and he glares through half-lids. Right now Sam gets the feeling that Blaine is scared in a way that Sam was just guessing at before.
It seems like an overreaction to Sam.
At least he hopes it is.
"This fight club you've joined," Sam says, keeping his voice hushed just in case. "I know you said you had one back in Ohio, but Blaine. California's different. There are bikers out here, and drug dealers. And, dude, this one time on the news-"
Blaine interrupts Sam with a laugh.
And not just a laugh... a burst of happy, so loud and so- so bright, it's almost like singing.
And then Blaine kisses Sam.
[tbc]