A/N: Okay, time for another upload spam. I'm so bad at updating this account. If you'd like to read what I write when I actually write it (instead of three months later when I remember I have this account), I have a tumblr and an AO3 account, and you can find the urls in my profile. My tumblr is the first place I upload fics, and AO3 will generally be updated within a couple of hours of my uploading it to tumblr.
Rating: PG
Warning: Vague mentions of ignorance/homophobia.
Word Count: 600+
Characters: Blaine Anderson/Sam Evans.
Blaine stands at the foot of Sam's bed and tugs his sleeves down to his knuckles, fiddling with the cuff anxiously as he wills himself to speak. He's twelve but he feels six as he stands there, timid and frightened like he's just been caught doing something he shouldn't and his parents are getting ready to yell at him. But this is different and he knows that, because he hasn't been caught doing something wrong, not at all. But he can't be sure that Sam will want to be his friend anymore once he tells him.
"What is it, B? You look sick."
"I- um, I have something … something I need to, um, to tell you."
Sam sits up and rubs his eyes, leaning against the headboard with a worried frown on his face. Blaine instantly steps forward and sits at the end of the bed, right at the edge, poised to flee in case his best friend reacts badly. He fidgets for a moment, eyes flickering back and forth between Sam and the floor as he thinks of how to tell him.
"What is it?"
The concern in Sam's voice is even more prominent now, genuine and soft, like he's afraid Blaine will break if he pushes him too much but knows Blaine won't tell him if he doesn't push him a little.
"I have to tell you something," Blaine repeats, breathless and high-pitched.
"You already said that. Blaine, is everything- you're not hurt, are you?"
Blaine shakes his head and bites his lip, looking down at his lap and playing with the cuff of his sleeve again, tugging it down even further until only the tips of his fingers are poking out. Sam's closer now, leaning in, trying to meet his eyes, but Blaine just turns his head away and takes a deep breath.
"… I'm gay," he says, voice barely above a whisper. Before Sam can get a word in, he begins to ramble, desperate to explain and make Sam understand. "I told my parents last week but they said that- that I wasn't and I couldn't be and I had a date with that Claire girl this weekend but I just, I know I'm gay and I've never liked Claire anyway and whenever we watch movies you always point out how hot the girl is but I'm always watching the guy and I just- oh god you hate me, I've screwed everything up, I need- I should, um, I should g- mmph."
A warm pair of lips cover his own and soft fingers cup his jaw lightly, holding him there for a moment. Sam pulls back and Blaine blushes furiously, mouth opening and closing as he fumbles for something to say. Sam blushes too and gives him a small smile.
"I- but- you- I- you too?" is the first thing out of Blaine's mouth and he blushes harder, fidgeting restlessly and looking at Sam with wide, confused eyes.
"I don't know," Sam admits quietly, biting his lip. "I like girls, but … but I like you as well. And I don't hate you for being gay, Blaine. I could never hate you."
But Blaine's head is still spinning around 'I like you as well' and there's a long silence as he gathers his thoughts before he squeaks, "You like me?"
"Yeah," Sam breathes, nodding his head. "I think I do."
Blaine smiles and looks down at his lap bashfully, not glancing up until he feels Sam's hand on his elbow. They stare at one another for what feels like forever before Blaine leans in and presses a kiss to Sam's cheek, still smiling against his skin. Sam grins as Blaine pulls away and he eases Blaine's sleeves back up to his wrist so he can hold his hand shyly.
Blaine looks up at his best friend and gives him a timid smile.
"I like you too."
FIN.
Feedback is appreciated.
