Though they'd been happy together during the last few months of senior year in the summer that followed, Blaine and Sam had chosen to end a relationship when he headed off to NYADA and Sam stayed in Lima to attend community college. It hurt like hell, but Blaine's fear of long-distance relationships and Sam's own insecurities got the better of them. They knew it was for the best.

Their hearts didn't listen to their heads though.

Of course, it didn't help that every time Blaine came home, Thanksgiving, Christmas, spring break, they wound up falling into bed, desperate for each other.

Blaine tried to date in New York, but couldn't kick the ache in his heart. According to Puck, who kept in touch with Blaine through regular e-mails (dear God, some of the things he forwarded were horrifying), Sam wasn't doing any better.

Every time it happened, Blaine told himself it would be the last time and every time he made a liar of himself. It was a vicious cycle, moments of bliss followed by long stretches of pain.

When Blaine arrived home for summer after his freshman year, he promised himself he'd be strong.

Then the doorbell rang and his resolve crumbled.

He had barely opened the door when Sam was on him, covering his face with kisses and holding him close. Since their breakup, these encounters had been fierce, desperate, filled with hot, crushing kisses and rough hands, trying to brand themselves on each other, as they knew it couldn't last.

So this sudden display of softness was a surprise and somehow it hurt worse.

"Sam," he choked out brokenly, clutching at him even as he tried to will himself to push the other boy away. He couldn't, not when he realized Sam's crying silent tears. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sam replied, then pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket and pressed it into Blaine's palm.

It was awkward, trying to find an angle that would allow him to read will Sam continued to cling to him like a limpet, but it didn't take long for him to realize what he was looking at.

An acceptance letter and scholarship information.

To the Pratt Institute.

In Brooklyn, New York.

"You're coming to New York?" Blaine murmured shakily. "You…why didn't you tell me you applied?"

Looking at him, Sam shrugged. "I wasn't sure I'd get in and I thought it would be worse to get both our hopes up…I mean, if you want…."

Blaine kissed him then, tenderly and hoping Sam could feel what he felt. The heaviness he'd been carrying around in his heart since August dissipated and he smiled against Sam's lips, pulling back eventually to say, "I love you."

They had never actually said the words, the looming specter of separation making both of them skittish.

Now Sam smiled like Blaine had just given him the answers to the universe. "I love you too."

A few days later, when they emerged to meet up with their friends (Puck had threatened to break in and drag them out if they didn't show), the responses were almost unanimously positive (with a little confusion that was common whenever Brittany and Finn were involved and some venom from Kitty).

"Wait? You broke up? Didn't you learn anything from me and Santana?"

"New you two would figure it out eventually."

"Oh thank you whatever God may or may not exist! Does this mean you'll retire your repertoire of morose, broken hearted songs…some of which sounded distinctly country…."

"Good for you guys."

"I suppose you could both do worse."

"Congratulations. I'm taking you both out the next time I come up from New Haven."

"Righteous."

"I didn't know you were leaving! When did you apply?"

"I'm happy for you guys. You're good together…."

"…and adorable."

"Fuck, finally! Now Evans will be moping around like some the club a baby seal in front of him."

"Will you be staying at Blaine's, or looking for a bigger place? I think there are some openings near ours!"

"Nightbird and the Blonde Chameleon ride again."

"Can I visit? I haven't been to Bloomingdale's in months!"

"Congrats, dudes. Kick ass in NYC."

"Another fine looking couple reunited!"

"You're the cutest!"

"All right, all right, yeah, were all thrilled Trouty and Frodo have worked out their epic man-angst, but really, it had to happen eventually. You don't go from being happy, hyper puppies to depressed lumps of useless unless real feelings are involved…and honestly, you two need each other. Who else is going to make Frodo loosen up and stop acting like an old man and, after the apocalypse incident, it's clear Trouty needs adult supervision. In closing, Felicidades Bitches!"

Years later, Blaine remembered that speech and tried to convince Sam that perhaps Santana didn't need to speak publicly at their wedding.

She did anyway.