LATE SUMMER 2015
"Are you sure you can't stay in town a bit longer? Like the rest of your life, maybe?"
"Sorry, Sam," Blaine laughed. "But my life right now is in New York. There isn't much in the way of local theater here in Lima these days."
"You could go to Columbus—or Cincinnati. Come on, dude, it's not the same here without you."
"I know what you mean. Every day I wish you didn't hate it there so much."
"The only times I hated it were when I had to be there on my own. I loved exploring it with you."
"Me, too, Sam. Me too."
And with that, they fell into a comfortable silence, as they gazed lazily on the night sky. They were huddled together in a messy tangle of limbs that would give even the most talented contortionist a headache. But for Sam and Blaine, so used to completely obliterating the concept of personal space between them, it was just another aspect of their unconventional friendship.
After a few more minutes Sam finally broke the silence that had settled over them. "I'll let you go back to New York, I guess."
"Why that's so very generous of you, Sam,"
"Ha ha. But I'm serious, Blaine. I can't say I'm thrilled with the prospect of having to break up Blam again, but I understand New York is what you want, so you need to go. But first you have to promise me a few things.
"Of course, Sam. What did you have in mind?"
"Wait, you're just going to agree with whatever it is, without even hearing it first. What if I told you that you need to ditch the hair gel?"
"I know you'd never take advantage of our friendship just for your own personal ends, Sam. And besides, if you did, I'd just have to share with the world exactly what Sam Evans looks like in a Cheerio outfit."
"You lied to me. You said you deleted that photo."
Blaine smiled beatifically. "I never lied to you. You asked me to delete the photo from my phone, and I did. You never said anything about cloud backups."
"I hate you so much."
"No, you don't."
"You're right. I could never hate you. But seriously, there are a few things you need to do."
"Like what."
"For starters, don't forget who you are. You're not just Blaine Warbler, the kid from Dalton. You're also Nightbird, Blaine the class president and glee club leader, Blaine the comic geek, even Blaine the former Cheerio. And most important of all, you're Blaine Anderson, the best best friend Sam Evans—or any one else—could have."
"Thanks, Sam. That means a lot."
"I'm serious, B. You can't let all of those other parts of you be put away as if they were boxes stored in your attic just because Kurt hasn't gotten the image of you as the boy from Dalton out of his head. It takes too much energy to keep up an alter ego like that all the time, and it also means you can't really be yourself. Kurt didn't just marry the Warbler—he married the rest of you, too. Make sure he remembers that."
"Okay, Sam, but—"
"And while we're on the topic, number two: don't let Kurt call all the shots in your relationship this time. You keep giving in to whatever he wants because you think it will make things easier and keep him happy. But all it really does is make you his puppet. You have the right to want things, too. For example, don't be afraid to say you want to go back to a school that is a conservatory. Or to have kids someday. Or to go to Italy instead of France for your first big European vacation. DOn't be afraid to want things. You deserve that, Blaine, more than anybody I know."
Blaine sighed. "I know I give in too often. But most of the time I don't mind what he chooses. Really. But the times I do mind, I'll make sure to let him know, OK?"
"That's all I ask. Well, maybe not. There's still one more thing—and it's a biggie."
"It's not `no gel,' right?"
Sam frowned a bit at the lame joke. "This is serious, Blaine. I need you to promise me that you won't ever forget that I'm here for you, whatever you need. You don't have to fight your battles alone. Even if the rest of the world thinks you're crazy, I'll be there at your side, tilting at windmills with you, if that's what you want."
"Thank you, Sam. How could I say no to a request like that?"
"Well, you forgot before, when Kurt broke off your engagement. You tried to bottle all the pain and hurt up and handle it alone, and look where and what it got you."
The words were like a sucker punch to Blaine's gut. "I'm sorry, Sam. I should never—"
"Don't apologize. You were in a rough spot. But I wish I could have spared you all the heartache that came afterward. Putting you back together again was one of the hardest things I've ever had to. I don't want to have to do that another time. I don't know if either of us would survive that."
Blaine was close to falling apart now. "Sam—"
"Nope, B. No crying. If you feel that way again, you call me right away. Night or day. I don't care what the time is, or where I am. If you need me, you get in touch however you can, and I'll be there for you."
"Thank you, Sammy. You have no idea how much you've meant to me these last few years."
"Pay me back by having a happy life out there in that awful, miserable, rude city."
"Absolutely."
"And I wanted to give you something," said Sam as he reached back to the side table next to where they were huddled. He pulled out a small, slender box. Blaine could see that—thankfully—it was not a ring box, but he wasn't sure what it could be. Carefully lifting the lid, he was rather flummoxed to find a key inside the box.
"A key? To what?"
"To this house. I hope you never have to use it, but I wanted you to have it, so that you never forget that there will always be somewhere you can go. I want you and Kurt to be happy, but I've seen you two together. I worry about what Kurt will do. If he ever does anything stupid—and knowing Kurt, it's a matter of when, not if—"
"Sam," said Blaine crossly, "that's my husband."
"Yes, but he's also still the disgruntled and jaded kid from Lima, and you need to be ready in case history repeats itself. As I said—I hope you never, ever have to use that key. But just know that you can, whenever you need it. You don't have to ask if you can; mi casa es su casa, and it always will be."
"So, I'll promise to do all of that—but you have to make the same promise. Don't hide your troubles from me. If it hurts you, it hurts me. And I won't let anything or anyone come between our friendship. If you need me, tell me, and I'll be there. Just let me know. Promise?"
"You, sir, have yourself a deal. Put it there, dude."
"Deal. Now can we go back to enjoying the quiet? I won't be able to do this too often when I'm in New York, and certainly not with my best friend at my side. I want to enjoy this while I still can."
"Sure thing, Blaine." They didn't say anything else for the rest of the evening, nor did they need to.