Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters. They all belong to Ryan Murphy. *cries*

A/N: This is set in New York, after they've all been living there for a bit and they've settled in. In this scenario, Blaine, Kurt, and Sam are all living in the loft and Mercedes has been living with Rachel (but she obviously spends a lot of time at the loft with Sam and the rest). However, this is strictly a late night conversation between Blaine and Sam (because I'm a huge fan of the BLAM bromance).

Guy Talk

"Dude...seriously? The piano?"

Blaine doesn't answer his best friend. Instead, he picks up his glass and takes a slow sip of water, but when he pulls the glass away from his mouth, he's wearing a jaunty smirk.

The blonde, who's seated directly across from him at the kitchen table, chuckles and takes a sip of his own drink.

"What about you?"

Sam places his glass down and leans back in his chair, pretending to nonchalantly stretch his arms out, but he points in the direction of the living room as he does.

Blaine tries to figure out what the taller teen is pointing at, but it seems useless. "The couch?" he takes a guess.

"No, dude!" Sam shakes his head and lowers his arms, but keeps pointing at the living room. "I mean, yeah, the couch too. But I meant the coffee table!"

"Well, how am I supposed to know what you're pointing at?" Blaine asks, but then glances over at the piece of furniture to which the blonde boy is referring. "That's good though. I'm gonna have to try that."

"You should." The taller teen smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. "You got any other good ones?"

"Hm..." the raven-haired boy glances around the loft, thinking. "The chair in the living room, the floor in between the couch and the coffee table, the shower..."

"Yup, yup, and yup." Sam nods along to each one, confirming that he's also hit each location that's being named.

"Against the door."

The blonde quirks an eyebrow and glances at the door at the entrance of their loft. "That door?"

Blaine nods and takes another sip of water.

"Nice."

Placing his cup back onto the table, the hazel-eyed teen holds up one finger. "And my personal favorite..." he trails off, lightly tapping that one finger on the top of the table.

Sam's eyes grow wide as the implication leads to realization. "Dude...That's awesome!" He shouts, forgetting, for a moment, that both of their significant others are sleeping in rooms separated by nothing but thin curtains.

Blaine shoots him a glare and both boys freeze, listening for any signs of movement in the loft. As soon as they're sure they haven't woken anyone, Blaine's glare immediately is replaced by a smirk. "Dude, it really was awesome."

The taller teen flails his arms, excitedly and sits forward in his seat, "Can I tell you my favorite?" He doesn't even give his friend time to respond before he's pointing, with a little too much enthusiasm, at the kitchen counter.

Now it's Blaine's turn to look surprised. "Really? The counter?"

The blonde nods, grinning from ear to ear (almost literally).

"I can't believe Mercedes went for that."

"Oh, she went for it alright," Sam says with an exaggerated wink, and then his eyes drift to the counter and the bright green seems to gloss over as flashes of the memory pass through his mind.

Blaine is silent too, allowing segments of his own memory to surface; the sound of Kurt moaning in the back of his throat as he gripped the table so hard that his fingernails left grooves in the wood.

And then, as if Kurt is there, speaking directly to him, Blaine thinks to ask, "You cleaned the counter afterward, right?"

"Oh yeah, dude. Definitely." Sam answers, immediately snapping out of his trance. "Kurt caught us when we were just getting into it and made us promise to bleach the kitchen when we were finished."

"Oh yeah...I think I remember him saying something about you two getting frisky in the kitchen," the shorter boy recalls. "I had no idea you guys got that frisky though."

"You have no idea," the blonde smirks again.

Blaine smiles. "New York is working out pretty well for us all, isn't it?

Sam's expression softens and he gives a genuine smile now. "Yeah...We're owning it, bro."

The two boys lean across the table and give each other a fist bump and, as they've become so accustomed to doing, they both whisper, "BLAM!" as their fists connect.

And then both boys stand and head for their respective sleeping areas, but just as Blaine reaches the curtain that separates his and Kurt's bed from the rest of the loft, he turns back to his best friend.

"Oh! I forgot one," he whispers, not wanting to wake his fiance who's still sleeping on the other side of the thin curtain.

Sam turns around and finds the raven-haired boy giving the most mischievous grin he's ever seen that can only be comparable to that of the Cheshire Cat.

"The elevator."

It takes the taller teen a moment to process this, but when he does, his green eyes nearly pop out of his head and his jaw hangs open as he turns to stare at the door, as if he's trying to look right through it to the elevator.

"Yeah...that one was Kurt's idea."

"Wow. I never would have guessed that Kurt's such a kink," Sam finally manages to close his mouth and pull his gaze away from the door.

"You have no idea," Blaine quips, before disappearing behind the curtain, leaving his still gaping best friend to marvel at this new and bizarre bit of information.

I've had this idea in my head since Sam decided he was going to New York and so, I had to get it out so I can move on and do other things. Hope you liked it!