Disclaimer: The author of this piece does not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters from Glee belong to their original creators.

Summary: Future sort of AU. In the bigger picture, Sam and Blaine were barely just allowed to begin. But if you were to inspect each frame a little closer, you'd see just how whole they'd been.

Warning!: This story starts off as Blam, BUT Seblaine is a really crucial part of this story. If you like Blam, I really encourage you to keep reading even though this probably will be somewhat of an emotional roller coaster. I apologize in advance for not revealing any other Warnings so if you don't like not knowing how a story will progress and end before you start then maybe you shouldn't keep reading? However, I encourage everyone to give it a try and I'll do my best not to dissapoint!

Much, much love!

A Good Year

"I'm back! And…. I've got the good bagels."

Blaine blinked lazily as he lifted his head from the pillow by barely an inch, vaguely taking in the sight of a familiar looking paper bag dangling in front of his face. Smiling to himself, he let his head drop back face down into the pillow, hugging it as the scent of newly baked bread was replaced by that of freshly washed sheets. "Am I dreaming?"

Kneeling down beside the headboard, Sam leaned over to kiss the side of a head of short, black curls. "Nope. I'll jump into the shower and meet you downstairs in the kitchen in 15?"

Blaine turned his head to look at the blonde man next to him, hoodie zipped open to reveal a wife beater barely making an attempt to hide the six-pack beneath it. "Mhmm… The kitchen, downstairs."

"That's right. Downstairs, baby."

Another kiss, on the lips this time, and then the sounds of vibrations in the air from a heart that had just gotten back from a jog were replaced by the sound of a running shower. 'The upstairs shower' Blaine thought to himself as he let his lips paint another ridiculous smile on his face once again, sitting up on the bed to place his feet on the hardwood floor in the bedroom on the first morning of waking up in the new house.

Their new house.

Grabbing the bag of bagels from the nightstand, he dragged his tired feet down the stairs to set it down on the counter in the kitchen.

Their new kitchen.

"I have a new client."

Blaine raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend, who'd casually popped a grape into his mouth following the vague statement. "Alright. Don't you have lots of new clients?"

"I do." The smug smile on the taller man's face gave away the fact that he was holding something back. "But this one is famous."

"Really?" Turning around to completely face the other man on the couch, Blaine reached over to push the bowl of grapes further away on the coffee table in order to gain his full attention.

"Why are you so surprised? Famous people need to work out too, if not more so than us common folk."

"Yeah but…. with you?" He really didn't mean to sound as surprised as he came across.

Pretending to be baffled, Sam splayed a hand across his chest before reaching over to grab the bowl that had just seconds ago been pushed outside of his reach. "If that's the attitude then I guess you don't need to hear the dirt then."

"I'm sorry… There's dirt? What dirt?"

Suddenly, Sam seemed to be enjoying the situation a little too much. "I was even going to tell you his name."

"Wait, you're not going to tell me who he is?! But, so it's a he?"

"You should be feeling really bad right about now because it's good, too."

With puppy eyes powered up to whatever level the absolute highest was, Blaine leaned a little closer on the couch. "Please, tell me his name. I'm sorry."

Sam shook his head as the shorter man practically straddled his lap on the couch, barely able to contain the satisfaction of having the upper hand for a change. "Nope, you had your chance. And also, I'm not allowed to say. I even had to sign some papers"

Hanging his head, Blaine nodded to himself in defeat. "Could you at least tell me the dirt?"

He was just about to shake his head when the power of the look in Blaine's eyes started to take effect. "Fine…" He leaned a little closer, mouth right next to his ear as if not to let anybody else in on the secret, as if anybody else was in the room. "I'm pretty sure he's gay…"

Blaine gasped, then felt embarrassed about gasping just to finally look at Sam with a mouth hanging open in disbelief. "And this person is not out?"

"This person is engaged. To a woman."

"But, how do you know he's gay?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Sam put his hands on Blaine's hips to drag him a little closer. "Because he was just a little bit too interested in my abs and ass to just be jealous of my physique."

"Uh huh…" Blaine leaned in for a kiss, rolling his hips as he raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Maybe it's time that this alleged personal trainer of the stars gives me a workout then?"

Sam stilled for a second on the couch, barely able to hide his excitement as he leaned back to search for a sign of assurance in the other man's eyes. "Really?"

"Uhm, yeah?" Laughing nervously, Blaine wasn't so sure why the taller one seemed so excited at the prospect of 'working him out'.

That was, until he practically tossed him aside on the couch and disappeared into the hallway, only to return two seconds later with a pair of jogging shoes he delightfully tossed in his direction.

"Oh… Actually, I was referring to, you know, sex?"

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, realization seemed to dawn on Sam's face for a moment only to be quickly pushed aside. "Whatever, this will be awesome! Come on, you've barely seen the area at night and we've been living here for a like a month! You're already wearing sweats, so let's go."

Reluctantly tying the shoes because, and he knew this to be true, there was no way he was going to win an argument once Sam had gotten an idea in his head, Blaine still made one last attempt at getting out of it. "But, and as you pointed out yourself, it's night. Almost midnight, as a matter of fact...-"

"-The stars are much brighter out here than in the shitty ghetto we used to live in."

And even though 'shitty ghetto' couldn't be further away from the street their previous two-room apartment was situated on, that was all the convincing Blaine needed to let himself be pulled up from the couch, jogging shoes firmly laced up. "Fine. Let's go."

"Why are you tuning that thing?"

Sam leaned as far back as he could on the couch to let his head tip backward over the back of it, getting an upside-down look of his boyfriend standing behind him with a curious smile on his face. "Because it's my favorite guitar."

Chuckling, Blaine crossed his arms over his chest. "It's your shittiest guitar."

"But you gave it to me. It's the first thing you ever gave to me."

Blaine walked around to sit down next to him, still curiously eyeing his boyfriend who lifted his head up and stretched out his neck, wincing at the cracking sound it made. "I bought it at a yard sale, because I had no money. Because we were in high school, remember?"

"Ever heard of a little thing called sentimental value?"

He could only hum in response, ridiculously content with the scene unfolding in front of him even though he didn't want to admit it.

"And of course I remember high school." Sam let his hand slowly strum along the six strings of a perfectly tuned guitar, only to quickly pick up the pace in a succession of picking and chords making out a melody. "How about a little Tommy James & The Shondells?"

"No thank you" Blaine lied, because for some reason he always pretended to hate when Sam sang to him, albeit it usually occurred at highly inappropriate times so technically he should've been groomed to at least feel highly uncomfortable at the prospect of it by now. But the truth was that he didn't, and whether Sam was aware of this or not it didn't seem to matter because there he went.

"Children behave, that's what they say when we're together. And watch how you play, they don't understand and so we're running just as fast as we can, holding onto one another's hand. Trying to get away into the night, and then you put your arms around me and then we tumble to the ground and then you say 'I think we're alone now. There doesn't seem to be anyone around.'"

And even though he loved it just as much as he pretended to hate it, if not even more, the blush was 100% real.

"I think we're alone now, the beating of our hearts is the only sound."

"Please stop…"

"Look at the way we gotta hide what we're doing. 'Cause what would they say if they ever knew, and so we're running just as fast as we can, holding onto one another's hand. Trying to get away into the night, and then you put your arms around me and then we tumble to the ground and then you say 'I think we're alone now. There doesn't seem to be anyone around.'"

When he'd finished playing, the guitar had been momentarily forgotten on the couch as Blaine practically pulled Sam into the bedroom by the collar of his t-shirt.

But at some point in the middle of the night, as he'd woken up to make his way down into the kitchen to get a glass of water, Blaine smiled to himself at the sight of that guitar hanging proudly on the living room wall.

I think we're alone now; the beating of our hearts is the only sound.

A long day.

A long, exhausting, day

Actors could truly be insufferable.

The walls of the gym truly were quite the step up from the fitness studio that was Sam's previous workplace, not to mention the fancy smoothie-bar to the left of the reception. Sometimes, when Blaine finished earlier than Sam he'd take a seat by one of the barstools there and order himself a tall tumbler of whatever it was that made up the concoction of the week.

This time, it was something with blueberries and banana.

"You sure look like you take care of yourself."

The words came closer somewhere behind his back, prompting him to assume that they were directed towards him. Upon swiveling the chair around and taking in the self-assured grin on the face of the stranger in front of him, they were. "Actually, I don't really work out. But, thanks?"

"Oh." The taller, lean man took a seat on a bar stool next to him, motioning to the girl behind the counter that he'd have whatever he was having. "So what are you doing hanging out at a gym?"

The collar around Blaine's neck felt a little tighter all of a sudden. "I'm waiting for someone." He looked at the other man, eyes pleading for some sort of understanding which seemed to go right over his head, if not simply ignored completely.

"Alright. Tough day?" The smoothie arrived in front of the man who tossed a couple of bills onto the counter.

"You could say that again."

"So what do you do?"

Blaine looked over his shoulder, wondering what was taking Sam so long to finish up. "I work in casting. Theater, mostly."

"Oh. Interesting."

"Most of the time it really isn't." His body felt exhausted just upon the thought of all the self-assured, no-talent auditions he'd had to sit through that day.

"Color me surprised. I heard it involves a couch, no?"

Hanging his head tiredly, Blaine shot him a look. "It doesn't."

"Fine. I guess it isn't that interesting after all."

And not a minute too late, he finally felt the familiar clasp of a warm hand over his shoulder.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long."

Blaine jumped off of the chair, walking around the counter to toss his empty plastic tumbler into the garbage. "No, but let's go." He offered a small wave in the stranger's general direction. "Bye."

But before following Blaine towards the exit of the gym, Sam approached the other guy and pulled him into some sort of bro-ish hug-handshake type of hybrid. "See you next week, Sebastian."

"Yup." With a hand resting on Sam's shoulder, 'Sebastian' shot Blaine a little wink.

Once they were out on the parking lot, Sam threw an arm around Blaine's shoulders as he carried his gym bag with the other. "I have another little tidbit about our movie star for you."

Blaine smiled to himself as he played with the torn cuff of Sam's Adidas jacket. "So he's a movie star?"

"Damn it… Fine, you got that one as a bonus for waiting for me." He leaned a little closer, pulling his arm tighter around Blaine's shoulders as they neared the car, whispering. "He uses Rogaine, and his hair is going gray. But you'd never know."

"So the plot thickens…"

"Uh huh." Sam tossed his bag into the backseat before jumping into the car. "But his receding hairline sure isn't."

"You know what I don't understand?" Sam frowned into the mirror before setting his toothbrush aside to take a shot of Listerine.

"What?" The toothbrush hung from the corner of Blaine's mouth as he looked at the reflection of his boyfriend in the mirror before them.

Sam rinsed his mouth. "What color are my eyes? I've always wondered."

"Green?"

"They used to be... But now, they're like more grey, blue-ish."

"Let me see." Standing as tall as he could on his bare feet on the bathroom tiles, Blaine steadied his hands on Sam's shoulders, who in turn had the decency to hunch down a little bit. "Uhm… Beautiful?"

The taller man eyed him suspiciously. "Beautiful?"

"Bright" Blaine nodded. "Really bright."

"Whatever." Sam stood straight, almost knocking Blaine off his balance. "X-Men before passing out in bed?"

Shooting him an almost-frown, Blaine rinsed his toothbrush before setting it aside and following him into the bedroom. "Obviously."

Later that night, Blaine shot up in a sitting position almost covered in cold sweat to the glare of the menu of the DVD playing on repeat on the TV in the bedroom.

Because he always offered to turn it off once the film was over because he was always tired enough to fall asleep, but Sam always wanted to watch whatever deleted- or behind the scenes extra material the disc had to offer.

And so it always woke Blaine up in the middle of the night, usually in the middle of some weird dream where he was running or falling and not even Wolverine could come to his rescue.

Always.

He practically punched Sam's shoulder, followed by a shove close enough to almost push him over the edge of the bed before admitting defeat and crawling over the other man to reach for the remote and turning off the TV.

And so wide awake, as always, he laid back down on the pillow and waited for Sam to slur something about how he was 'still watching that', but was surprised to instead be pulled into a close hug against a broad chest, humming involuntarily in approval.

Without opening his eyes, Sam let Blaine rest his head on his chest as his fingers rubbed lazy circles through short, black hair, craning his neck just slightly to whisper softly into his ear. "From goulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties, and things that go bump in the night, good lord deliver us…."

Suddenly the shorter man was a little more awake than before, if that was possible. "Uhm… what?"

"You were having a bad dream…"

"I don't think that explains whatever that was?"

"My mom used to say it to me when I had nightmares."

"Oh. Ok."

And for some reason, that explained whatever that was just perfectly.

TBC