Title: Heroes
Author: CastleQuill
Rating: K+
Warnings/Tags: Basically none.
Prompt: Kinda how I wanted the scene in the locker room in Naked to have gone: "You don't know what it's like… You can sing and dance, and you kick butt in school and you're all hot and everything…I have to announce my presence with authority the second I walk into a room! People have to notice me or else they never will. People laugh at my impressions because how I look already has them on board." Beat. "Sam, did you just call me 'hot'?"

The prompt for this story came from Blam Central. I highly recommend that you all check it out, because there are some amazing stories over there. And thank you to my wonderful beta, Tuuzmorado.

Blaine had watched Sam go through a downward spiral all week, and he wasn't entirely sure what to do about it. First had been the failed SAT test, which had led to Sam moping around school all day, occasionally banging his head against his desk until Blaine made him stop. Then he'd showed up at school practically naked (earning himself about twenty different detentions) and become obsessed with the photo shoot. There was no way those two weren't related, but Blaine couldn't think of anything to say to make it better. So he just went along with Sam's crazy plans, watching to make sure it didn't get any worse.

But once the actual photo shoot came, and Sam went crazy yelling at everyone, Blaine couldn't hold back any more.

"You're kind of out of control," he said, hurrying into the weight room after Sam.

"Yeah, well, haters gonna hate." Sam already had a barbell in hand, and was doing curls like crazy, even though the guys had just finished an intense workout barely an hour earlier.

"Will you please stop lifting?" Blaine demanded, only throwing the "please" in there to sound somewhat polite. But if Sam didn't listen, Blaine would be tempted to rip the barbell from his hands. And he'd probably do it, too. "This isn't who you are, Sam. You're not just some body-obsessed muscle head."

"You don't know what it's like," Sam snapped, thankfully setting down the weight and turning toward Blaine. "You can sing and dance and kick butt in school and you're all hot and everything... I have to announce my presence with authority the second I walk into a room. People have to notice me right away or else they never will. People laugh at my impressions because the way I look already has them on board."

There was a moment of silence, then Blaine asked, "Sam, did you just call me hot?"

Instantly he wanted to take it back. Out of everything Sam had just said, his thoughts about Blaine were the least important part. What was important was what Sam seemed to think about himself, and Blaine quickly opened his mouth to reassure Sam that he was wrong, that Sam was the most amazing person in the world and everyone noticed him.

But Sam was already answering. "Of course I do," he said, looking away. "You're perfect."

Blaine took a step closer. "So are you."

"No, I'm not." Sam dropped down onto the bench, one hand raking through his hair.

"Yes, you are." Blaine knelt on the floor, putting his hands on Sam's shoulders. Despite everything that was going on, Blaine couldn't stop his mind from focusing on how close he was to his crush, the feel of his skin under Blaine's hands, the fact that both of them were shirtless. But he pushed those thoughts aside, because Sam was more important. "You are the best person I have ever met, Sam, and nothing can ever change that. Not your SAT score, and especially not the way you look."

"That's not true," Sam said, not looking at him. "I'm never going to be good enough."

Blaine leaned even closer, until his thighs were pressed against Sam's knees and their faces were maybe half a foot apart. "You already are."

"How can I be?" Sam's voice was bitter, which wasn't an emotion Blaine had ever heard from him before. "You're going off to New York and will probably be on Broadway someday, and I'll be working at Pizza King the rest of my life because I can't even get into college. And you'll get back together with Kurt because he's, like, amazing and going to the best performance school and he's got that kickass internship so of course you're in love with him."

Blaine blinked, trying to work out the implications of what Sam had just said. Could it really mean that... No, there was no way that Sam was jealous because he liked Blaine the same way that Blaine liked him. It was a friendship thing. Sam was jealous because he believed that Blaine was smarter than him (which was completely untrue, even if Blaine did get better grades). And he probably thought that if Blaine got back together with Kurt, then Blaine wouldn't want to spend as much time hanging around with Sam. He'd make sure Sam realized how stupid those ideas were, though he'd say it in a nicer way. And they'd stay just friends.

Blaine mentally shook his head. Even if there was some chance Sam liked him (and there wasn't), it didn't matter right then. He had more important things to worry about, like making Sam see how absolutely amazing he was. But he got the feeling that just saying it wouldn't be enough.

"How do you say 'I love you' in Na'vi?" he suddenly asked.

Sam frowned, looking thrown off by the sudden question, but answered. "Nga yawne lu oer."

Blaine smiled. "Say something else."

"Ke lu kawtu a nulnivew oe pohu tireapivängkxo äUtral Aymokriyä." Sam said, his cheeks going slightly red. "It's a pick-up line. What does this have to do with anything?"

"You taught yourself another language, Sam," Blaine pointed out. "Not even a real language, either. A fictional one from Avatar that sounds like complete gibberish to me. Do you think most people can do that? And you're the best student in our history class, even if you're getting Cs. I bet you remember every fact about that battle we were talking about today. I don't even remember what it was called."

"Battle of Manzikert," Sam mumbled.

"My point exactly," Blaine said, looking straight at Sam even if Sam refused to meet Blaine's eyes. "You are brilliant, Sam. Just because you have trouble expressing that doesn't mean that it's not true." Sam opened his mouth, and Blaine could see on his face that he was going to put himself down again, find a way to wave away what Blaine had just said. So Blaine spoke over him, not giving him the chance to say a word. "And you can study at a school that doesn't require the SATs. There are plenty of them. I googled a few last night, and there are a few that give art scholarships, so money won't be an issue either. I didn't find out that much, but you can ask Miss Pillsbury for more-"

"Will you just stop?" Sam snapped, shoving Blaine's hands off his shoulders. His eyes were wet. "I know you're trying to make me feel better, but it's not going to work."

Blaine grabbed his arm. Sam shook away. "Why not?" Blaine asked, keeping his voice gentle. "What reasons do you have to not believe me? Tell me and I'll prove them all wrong."

"I don't know," Sam said, facing Blaine for the first time. "It's a fact. I don't need any reasons why because it's just something that's true."

"Bullshit," Blaine said. He could see the surprise on Sam's face – Blaine never swore. Well, too bad. It had to be said. "Listen to me. You don't have any reasons? Well, I can give you a dozen reasons why you're the best person I've ever met."

He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Sam's wrist. This time, Sam didn't pull back. "Nobody else could do everything you do. You've done so much and you don't even see it."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam asked, still bitter and disbelieving. "What have I ever done besides work out and sell my body?"

"Remember when I was thinking of going back to Dalton, and you told me that I was a good guy?" Blaine asked quietly. "Well, if I'm one of the good guys, then you're one of the heroes. All I have ever seen you do is save people. It's so much a part of you that you don't even realize you're doing it."

"Who have I ever saved?" Sam grumbled. It was obvious that the question was rhetorical, but Blaine chose to answer it, anyway.

"Kurt told me about how you launched yourself at Karofsky sophomore year to defend him after Karofsky shoved Artie." Blaine squeezed Sam's wrist. "Karofsky must outweigh you by at least fifty pounds. That took guts.

"And the way you took care of your family," Blaine continued. "Call it 'selling your body' if you want. I call it making the hard decisions to support your family. And that's what a hero does. A hero does the things he doesn't want to do to protect the people he cares about. And I know it made you sick." Sam had never said anything, but it was obvious during his few vulnerable moments that some bad things had happened in Kentucky. "And I know you're ashamed of it." The way he tried to throw around mentions of his stripper days like they were nothing made that clear. Sam was ashamed, but he didn't want to be, so he tried to pretend that it didn't matter. But Blaine could see it all. "But you did it anyway, because that's what you had to do. And you didn't complain or even tell anyone about it. You just did it. That's incredible, Sam."

He paused, but Sam didn't respond, so Blaine kept going. "There are more people, too. Like Mercedes. Kurt and I hung out with her all the time before she left for LA, and she kept telling us that she only got her job because of you." When that still didn't get a reaction, he added, "And you saved me."

Sam finally responded. "What do you mean?"

Blaine snorted slightly and scooted even closer to Sam. "Where do you think I'd be if you hadn't stopped me from going back to Dalton? Hunter and Sebastian got me to leave McKinley after one stupid song. How long do you think I would've lasted before I agreed to do the drugs they gave me? I could have been the one arrested with them."

"They wouldn't have gotten caught if you weren't here to help me figure out what they were doing," Sam muttered.

"Even worse," Blaine said. "Then I'd be with the Warblers preparing for Regionals right now, and probably still taking steroids. I don't even want to think about how far we might have gone before we stopped. If we stopped." Blaine cleared those thoughts away. Everything he'd said to Sam was completely true, and after he'd learned the truth about the Warblers, it had shaken him to realize how close he had come to being one of them. But this wasn't the time to focus on that. "For all we know you could have saved my life for real. But that's not why I like you."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked, hesitant and nervous in a way that was almost worse than hearing him sound angry and bitter.

"I mean that you helped me out, and I'll never stop being grateful for that," Blaine said, using his free hand to turn Sam's face so that he had to look at Blaine and see how serious he was. "But I don't like you just because of what you did for me. I like you because your impressions make me laugh like nothing else. I like you because you have the best taste in movies and don't make fun of me if I want to be nerdy once in a while instead of acting all dapper and perfect. I like you because you comforted Brittany after the lip syncing disaster and because you get so excited about everything and you completely light up the room whenever you're happy, like everyone else can't help but be happy, too." He swallowed. "Basically, I like you for the things that make you you."

The tears in his eyes were overflowing now, and he let out a quiet sob. Blaine reached to comfort him, only to wrapped in a hug that might have turned his ribs to dust, but there was no way he would ever complain.

"Shhh," Blaine said, curling his own arms around Sam and rubbing circles on his back. "It's okay, Sam. Go ahead and cry if you need to."

For a minute, he thought Sam actually would. But then Sam took a deep breath and pulled back, though his eyes still looked watery. "No, I'm good. Thanks, dude."

"You're welcome," Blaine said, letting his hand fall to squeeze Sam's knee before reminding himself that that wasn't the kind of thing that friends did. Sam didn't seem to mind, though. "Do you believe me now?"

"Yeah," Sam said. He sounded shaky and still a little uncertain, but Blaine thought he was telling the truth. "And you believe me, too, right? About you being... you know. Hot and perfect and everything."

Blaine tried not to let his blush show on his cheeks, and was pretty sure that he completely failed. "Yeah," he said, then bit his lip nervously. "What exactly did you mean by that?" Because it couldn't mean what he hoped it did. Whatever the real reason was, Blaine needed to hear it now, to get any other ideas out of his mind.

Sam looked just as embarrassed as Blaine all of a sudden. "It means I like you," he admitted. "And like I said, you'll end up with Kurt someday, so no way you can like me back. But now you know."

"Sam." Blaine didn't even know what to say besides that, so he just knelt there, staring. Sam seemed to take that as a rejection, because he grimaced and started to stand. "Wait," Blaine said, grabbing Sam's arm with one hand and touching his face with another. Sam looked shocked, and Blaine smiled, leaning forward until their faces were inches away. "Do you want to?"

"Yeah," Sam breathed.

Blaine didn't really know who it was that closed the last bit of distance. That part didn't seem to matter so much.

They kissed slowly, their fingers barely touching each other's skin, like they were both afraid that this would disappear if they moved too fast. Blaine shivered as Sam's hand ran down his back, and tried to press himself even closer to Sam, which made their front teeth scrape together. Both of them winced, and Sam laughed before moving Blaine's mouth against his again. Maybe it was a little awkward. That didn't make it any less perfect.

"Hey, Sam? You okay? Because you've been in here for a while."

Both of them jumped apart, turning to face Ryder, who stood in the doorway looking shocked. Blaine glanced at Sam, who didn't seem to know what to do any more than Blaine did.

"I, uh," Ryder said, turning away. "I'm just going to leave now." He walked away. A minute later, they heard him call, "Sam's okay, guys. Blaine's taking care of him."

"Well, that was one way to come out, I guess," Sam said.

"You okay with this?" Blaine asked quickly. There was still time to flag down Ryder and tell him not to say anything, if that was what Sam needed.

"Nah," Sam shook his head. "I kind of can't believe you kissed me. I want everyone to know about it."

Blaine put both hands on the sides of Sam's face, making sure to look Sam straight in the eye. "Everything you said earlier, about not being good enough for me? Or about Kurt being better than me? Neither of them are even slightly true. God, Sam, you wouldn't believe how long I've been in love with you. Remember that, okay?"

"I'll try," Sam whispered, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"Good. And if you ever need a reminder, come find me, because I'd be happy to give it," Blaine said, then glanced at the door. "I guess we should go back to the photo shoot, huh?"

"Yeah," Sam said. He stood and held out a hand to pull Blaine to his feet. "Actually, can we reschedule my shoot? I want to talk to Artie about something first."

"Sure." Blaine was dying to know what Sam was thinking, or what idea was making him smile like that, but decided not to ask. The fact that Sam was smiling at all was good enough for him. "They'll probably have me go instead, since I was scheduled to go after you."

Sam's face lit up. "Do you think I could watch?" he asked.

Blaine snorted at his sudden enthusiasm. "I'd say so, considering that we were all standing around watching you." Blaine suddenly grinned. "But only if you kiss me again."

Sam's eyes were soft as he turned toward Blaine. "Dude," he said, one hand stroking a strand of hair that had come free from Blaine's gel. "You don't even have to ask."