Disclaimer: I have no affiliation to Glee or its characters. This is fiction pure and simple.
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Waiting for Forever
Year Eight: Bronze
"Every time I enter this death trap, my life flashes before my eyes."
Blaine chuckled as the elevator squeaked and groaned around them, sparing no thought for Artie's complaints. He loved that terrifying sound, loved everything about this old building, from its decidedly odd occupants to the complex aromas of Lebanese cooking that assaulted him on the third floor. Sniffing happily he relaxed, the lingering stresses from the intense negotiations with the studio sharks falling off his shoulders. He was almost home, their home.
"Your face is doing that thing again." Artie smirked.
"The happy smiling thing?"
"Yes."
"Just…" He flipped towards his friend, incredulous. "I am living with my boyfriend and IFC Films just offered to distribute our movie…I can't believe I'm old enough to do this, any of it. If I wake up tomorrow and I'm facing a row of Dalton blazers I'm going to be pissed."
"Relax, man. High school is well and truly over." Artie shoved the tiny glowy button repeatedly. Blaine could have told him it wouldn't make the lumbering behemoth move any faster. Loch Mesh would get them to the next floor when she felt like it, not a second before. "Are we going to take the deal?"
"There's a lot to consider… And we would be giving up a lot of control. I spotted a lot of legal loopholes that lean in their favor. I mean they could put the movie on ice or they could recast and reshoot. Imagine Alana as a large breasted bimbo." Blaine shuddered. "Let's talk about it after Chris goes over the contract."
"Cool. But if it ever comes up I'm all for bimbos."
Yeah! Like Artie would ever let anyone 'desecrate' his movie? Grinning, Blaine clutched at the battered railing as Loch Mesh lurched to a respectable speed and deposited them at the top floor, the pulsating top floor. Light from the setting sun struggled through the grimy panes illuminating the empty hallway. Their neighbors Matt and Riley were paramedics so hopefully they were out on shift, or with Sam. A more likely scenario since they'd bonded over the horrors of their respective jobs.
Blaine couldn't say for sure how he and Sam decided to move in together. The intricate details of that negotiation - who asked who, when or why would forever be lost in one of their many sex comas - but it had taken the better part of a year for them to find a place they both agreed on and they frustrated many a broker with their varied conditions.
Blaine didn't want to leave Manhattan and his ridiculously overpriced apartment on the Upper West Side.
Sam insisted they split the bills and he didn't want to pay a fortune to live in a shoebox.
Blaine was working at home so they needed a lot more room.
They had a dog.
It had to be wheel chair accessible.
It was by sheer chance that they stumbled onto the converted warehouse in an up and coming neighborhood in Queens. Like most unexpected happenings the news reached them from a friend of a friend who'd discovered its availability by eavesdropping on the subway.
Blaine had rushed over, taking a baffled still stammering Harry with him. Despite the deceptive beat up partial graffiti exterior, the top floor apartment opened up into a massive open space and the small adjacent terrace with a breathtaking view was a cherry on top of the already perfect sundae even with unsafe railings.
It had been love at first sight.
He went a little nuts decorating the vast space. Sam tugging along reluctantly to all the antique and furniture stores, grumbling the entire time about becoming a stereotype but he still showed up for their excursions each and every time. Two months in, with all the décor and repairs complete, it felt more like home than any other place Blaine had ever lived.
Pushing Artie ahead of him, Blaine edged through the front door searching the softly lit room. Most of their friends had already shown up, Joe sat cross-legged on an island of plump floor cushions – one of many covering the revived hardwood floors - his girlfriend Melissa, gazing at him with adoration as he fiddled with the bongo drums in his lap. Jake stretched out on the deep red sectional couch above them, tapping his phone. Making it more obvious how easily he was ignoring the pretty dark haired girl at his feet.
Rachel waved gaily at him as she and Finn set up the karaoke machine in the corner that had been designated as stage for the night. Her boyfriend wasn't hard to find. Puck choosing that moment to assail their eardrums again by pounding out System of a Down's 'F—k the System' on the Baby Grand piano.
"Hey you guys." A blond vision in red popped in front of them.
"Quinn!" They both yelled exchanging hugs. She looked incredible for someone who'd disappeared for four years with Brody – oh god please let her not have brought him along. Blaine glanced about surreptitiously; a naked man molesting his furniture wouldn't be that hard to find.
"What are you doing here?" Artie ventured.
"I heard everybody was coming." She rolled her eyes at the absurdity of that statement. "Since I was passing through…" No mention of where she was from or where she was heading or how she'd gone up a cup size. More importantly if she was still hooking up with a pompous ass. "…I thought I'd stop by and say congratulations? Mazel tov? Or something?"
After the Ryder fiasco Blaine had decided honesty while completely embarrassing was totally necessary. He smiled. "Well… 'Yay! You waited for Sam for years and it finally paid off when he came home just in time to save you from a life of substance abuse and indiscriminate whoring' is a bit of a mouthful."
Quinn choked on her beer, spilling on Artie whose gaze barely moved from her unnaturally enhanced cleavage as she snickered behind the red solo cup. "I couldn't have put it better myself."
She gave him a small knowing smile. That hadn't changed. "Sam's a lucky guy and he's in the kitchen. Go." She shooed. Then she turned to Artie "You are all mine." He slobbered a yes still glued to her bosom.
A dumber man than Blaine might have asked what was wrong with her original breasts but he knew how quickly Quinn could morph from girl next door to a dead eyed Medusa if you crossed her.
Looking up, his heart did that stupid skipping thing.
Sam.
Sam juggling vodka bottles behind the counter.
His pulse picked up, flooding with worry. Especially when one bottle missed his hands and he fumbled, catching it just in time. Giving Blaine a triumphant grin, he took a bow. That man was going to be the death of him.
Shaking his head, Blaine took a detour right past the piano.
"Duuude." Puck bellowed as Blaine dropped the lid almost catching his fingers. "I need these," He pantomimed typing. "To write."
"This is a Steinway, not a laptop " Blaine caressed the glossy cover. "Show some respect."
"After putting my back out, helping you steal it from your parents house. I should be allowed to use it all the time."
"I had permission to take it." Blaine interjected before heading towards the open kitchen area.
Sam's hands had just slid up his back when Puck popped up besides them. "What?" Blaine snapped. Interrupting cuddle time was a hanging offence.
"Okay. I know since you guys moved into this place you have a new closed-door policy, on account of all the walking in on you having sex. Which was traumatic by the way…for me." He raised a brow at them. " But how about you give me a key – only me - and we call it even on the larceny front?"
Blaine leaned in and hissed. "For the last time it's not stolen. And no! No more keys for anyone." This was their home, their sanctuary not some bachelor pad.
"Where am I supposed to go when Rachel kicks me out again? I had to crash in my truck last time."
"Off the top of my head, try not to get kicked out." Sam suggested.
Blaine had no doubt Rachel and Puck under one roof made for a challenging living situation but after five years together it made no sense for them to be struggling now.
"Man, just because you're all cool with the whole guy on guy thing and Blaine is super chill, doesn't mean you don't remember how fucking moody chicks can be."
"Uh thank you!" Blaine muttered.
"She seems fine now." Sam pointed out as they heard Rachel belt out the tail end of Carly Simon's 'You're so vain'."
"Until she gets me alone. I can't do anything right without her having some sort of bitch fit.
"I bet you think that song is about you." Blaine deadpanned and Sam burst out laughing while Puck scowled.
"Not funny, man. She almost decapitated me last night because I brought her the wrong ice cream." He huffed. "Strawberry lemonade punch sherbet, those are the words my nightmares are made of."
"Dude, what did you get?" Sam passed him a beer.
Blaine smiled at his boyfriend's relish.
Puck took a swig. Stalling. Finally. "Everybody loves vanilla."
Their laughter was cruel and all the sweeter because of it. Rachel snaked her arms around Puck's waist just before he could retaliate.
"Babe, come help me." She coaxed sweetly. "I need to find the perfect duet for us."
Puck threw them a thoroughly perplexed look as Rachel dragged him away.
"Alone at last." Sam murmured in his ear.
Humming Blaine leaned into him. His eyes dropped to the trace of Sam's tongue over his bottom lip. Blaine sighing as their lips met, Sam's hand creeping back up his throat. McKinley/Dalton flashbacks aside, they weren't kids anymore. Thank god. He could kiss him instead of dreaming about it.
"There's never a hose around when you need one." Kurt slammed his sketchbook onto the counter hopping onto a high backed stool. "On the other hand, I may be just in time to catch the public show that will occur in 5 minutes. I mean given the extensive tonsil search you two are currently involved in."
"Bad day?" Sam asked.
"Not the worst but it certainly felt like the longest."
"Well" He checked the fridge passing him a bottle of white wine. "I hope this helps." Then he wandered off mouthing, "Fix him" at Blaine. Sam didn't get far as a newly arrived Sugar stopped to ask about his job. Immediately he whipped out his phone, showing her the video of him and Trevor doing impressions. The four-year-old towhead had been at the Center less than a week and already he and Sam had bonded. He talked constantly about his mini me.
Shamelessly eavesdropping, Kurt said. "If you tell me that the two of you are adopting a kid after I ended yet another relationship, I will kill myself."
"Nah. His mom OD'ed at some crack house, the police is still looking for his dad. Any family would do really but in the meantime, he belongs with social services." Blaine peeled the protective covering off the wine. "What happened with Jack?"
"Don't pretend to care. You never liked him."
"Kurt. I just think dating three vapid self-involved male models in a row is you trying to overcompensate." Huffing Blaine ripped the cork out of the bottle.
"Contrary to popular belief I'm not depressed because you and Sam are living together."
"Me and Sam? I was talking about Adam," Topping off the large wine glass, Blaine passed him the Pinot Grigio. "No one thinks you're depressed over us."
"Everybody…" Kurt bit out. "Everybody thinks that. While you've been the circling wagons and making like bunnies, it's been raining 'Poor Kurt's' over here."
"Oh God Kurt, I'm so sorry." Blaine oozed embarrassed sincerity. "I've kinda disappeared, haven't I?"
Honestly he couldn't remember for sure when he'd last spent any time with Kurt. He bailed on their plans to go shopping after Sam's professor called in sick giving them an extra three hours together, three hours of touching …and some chafing. He smirked; those hours were emblazoned on his brain in high def. But he'd meant to call Kurt after that but day had blended into day, work got crazy after they closed casting and started shooting. The rigors of filming for long hours took its toll and he frequently trudged across the city to fall asleep exhausted in Sam's bed. Even when they did show up for Ryder's farewell party and Marley's 'Nice girls don't finish last' promotion dinner, they were that cliché couple. The one with the PDA and the inside jokes, the couple that disappeared to the bathroom forgot to return.
"I get it you are busy and in love of course nothing else matters."
"Come on Kurt, we aren't just friends, we are family." Blaine studied his dejected profile. "You are always welcome here and I promise I will spend more time with you…just the two of us…doing anything you want."
Kurt perked up. "Well, I recently got into the Opera." He sing songed the last part, clutching his chest. "So you and me La Traviata next Friday?"
Sam hated the Opera anyway so... "I wouldn't miss it."
The aimless thrumming of a guitar and murmur of the crowd drew his attention to the makeshift stage. Sam had traded his phone for a microphone.
He cleared his throat. "Blaine and I – he's back there – would like to welcome you to our home." Sam paused as the hooting and hollering swelled. "Thank you! Thank you very much." His Elvis impression complete with the hip swivel made everyone laugh. Including Blaine who had enough trouble taking his eyes off him on a daily basis.
Sam was very distracting. When he talked. When he laughed. When he did nothing at all.
"We are going to party McKinley High Glee Club style which for us means a mini concert." Sam beamed as applause erupted again. "Most of you were happy to bring your instruments. So we got a piano, a couple of acoustic and electric guitars, a drum set, karaoke machine, a uh tambourine – thank you Sugar! – and bongo drums from Joe. Dude, we are looking forward to your McConaughey impression but save it till later when we are all wasted."
Joe laughed along though Blaine was pretty sure he didn't get the reference.
"There's a row of screens around the room." Sam pointed them out. "Connecting us to Britt and Santana who are in Ohio for her Abuela's birthday" Brittany waved enthusiastically, Santana gracing them with an eye roll. "Then we've got Marley, Tina and Mike in Chicago." Lots of thrown kisses. "And finally Mercedes, Sunshine and Unique on a tour bus on their way to Atlanta. Uh -" He hesitated as he came to the final blank screen. "Our Boston connection appears to be down."
They were the only ones that noticed Jake's face crumple for a second.
"Well I will be happy to get this party started." Sweeping up one of the guitars he gave Blaine a sly wink then began to play.
"You don't need to change a thing about you babe
I'm telling you
From where I sit, you're one of a kind
Relationships, I don't know why, they never work you and they make you cry
But the guy that says goodbye to you is out of his mind."
After Sam's song, Quinn and Kitty entertained with Keri Hilson's Pretty Girl Rock. There was spastic dancing (Finn) and lots of laughter. The fun sorta screeched to a halt when Dave Karofsky stumbled in after 10, looking appropriately uncomfortable especially when Puck loudly insisted that he was there to see Kurt. He hemmed and hawed but didn't actually deny it. Kurt's blush spoke volumes.
The copious amounts of alcohol loosened everyone up again.
Blaine caressed the ivory keys when his turn to sing came up. If wrestling the mic out of a depressed Jake's hand before he did "Slow dancing in a burning room' for the third time was a turn. He knew exactly what song he wanted to do and he unerringly found Sam in the room. It was after all for him and he gave it his all lyrics pouring out of him, his Baby Grand giving up the sweetest sounds.
I should ink my skin with your name
And take my passport out again
And just replace it
See I could do without a tan
On my left hand,
Where my fourth finger meets my knuckle
And I should run you a hot bath
And fill it up with bubbles
'Cause maybe you're loveable
And maybe you're my snowflake
And your eyes turn from green to gray
In the winter I'll hold you in a cold place
And you should never cut your hair
'Cause I love the way you flick it off your shoulder
And you will never know
Just how beautiful you are to me
But maybe I'm just in love
When you wake me up
The entire room had gone quiet but all Blaine's cared about was he could feel Sam's eyes locked on him like they had been in the high school auditorium so many years ago.
And I think you hate the smell of smoke
You always try to get me to stop
But you drink as much as me
And I get drunk a lot
So I'll take you to the beach
And walk along the sand
And I'll make you a heart pendant
With a pebble held in my hand
And I'll carve it like a necklace
So the heart falls where your chest is
And now a piece of me is a piece of the beach
And it falls just where it needs to be
And rests peacefully
So you just need to breathe
To feel my heart against yours now, against yours now
'Cause maybe I'm just in love when you wake me up
Or maybe I'm just in love when you wake me up
Maybe I fell in love when you woke me up.
There was much drunken cheering when Sam dragged him off the tiny stool by the tie and planted one on him. They disappeared to the bathroom for a while emerging rumpled and satisfied finding the party had kicked into high gear in their absence; most of their neighbors had showed bringing food and more drinks.
About an hour later … in estimated drunk time … Rachel and Puck had a huge fight that ended in a confession - she was pregnant it explained her Jekyll/Hyde routine. Puck was over the moon.
Ah idiots in love.
Blaine stumbled past Jake's unknown date doing body shots with Matt and one of their neighbors of indeterminate gender. "Ma'amoul" He pronounced as he chowed down on the pastries dropped off by the Lebanese couple. They hadn't stayed but it had been such a nice gesture.
He was stuffing them into the fridge when a hard body wrapped around him from behind. "We are really happy right?" Sam slurred. "All these couples are a mess…like we were but we are no longer a mess right?"
Blaine turned wrapping his arms around his neck. "We are great." He reassured.
"Did you see Finn's face? It was so sad." Sam stage whispered. "We should build him a new Rachel."
"Baby, she's not a Delorean. Finn is just going to have to find another girl."
"Sooo sad!" Sam repeated. "We are –" He gave Blaine a tequila laced kiss. "Happy! Very happy! Not like Finn. So I was thinking since we don't have any real problems…"
Seeing right through him, Blaine interrupted. "No TV in the bedroom."
"C'mon."
"No." Blaine was enjoying the fact that a television debate was the biggest fight they were currently having. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jake heading to the terrace so he countered quickly. "And as a reward, if you let this go… I will wear my Cheerio uniform and let you peel it off me…whenever you want." He was pretty sure Sam went cross-eyed over at his suggestion.
"There's no way you can tell that's what I want."
"Sammy," Blaine bit and licked right under his jaw, pushing him in the right direction. "You've dated four cheerleaders. At some point it is just about the uniform."
"Not with you. I love you."
"I know baby, I love you too." He kissed him. Hard. "I'm going to talk Jake for a bit. K? I'll be right back."
"Tell him to go home…home to Ryder…home." Then he disappeared Quinn yanked him away.
Slipping through the sliding door, he inhaled. Jake sat on the top rail, his heels banging out a dull staccato on the exposed brick. The red glow from the lit cigarette illuminated his face as he took a deep puff, forcing the smoke back out his nostrils in a practiced move.
"You're not going to jump right?" Blaine edged closer drawn by the acrid stench of tobacco.
His broken laugh was simply devastating. "Not today." He nudged the pack of Camels in Blaine's direction.
Giving it a longing look, Blaine shook his head. It wasn't worth it. Besides the lack of hallucinogenic effects, which would be the initial draw, smoking would magnify his inevitable hangover symptoms.
"Sam's idea?"
And Sam hated when he smoked so he was trying to cut back. "Yeah."
Jake's laugh this time was more teasing less painful to hear. "You are so whipped."
Blaine clambered up next to him and they fell into a comfortable silence. The cool night air breezed through his curls tickling the back of his neck sending a pleasurable shiver down his spine. The fuzzy edges of his mind started to clear. He smiled faintly watching the drunken antics of the remaining guests.
Kitty and Melissa were playing Jenga with the empty beer cans or they were trying. The pile of cans kept crashing to the floor its noise drowned out by Finn's deafening rendition of Usher's Confessions. He occasionally paused forgetting the lyrics as he stared at Rachel like the world's saddest giraffe. The future Mr. and Mrs. Puckerman were too wrapped up in each other to notice. They lay on the couch exchanging soft kisses, Puck's hand caressing her belly.
"Everyone's moving on."
Blaine searched Jake's face in the moonlight. "Growing and changing is part of life. If you don't move on then you are just…"
"Standing still?" Jake sniffed, rubbing his hands together. "Like me?"
"Jake, what are you still doing here?" Blaine didn't know if it was the alcohol giving him the courage but someone had to ask. Since only him and Sam knew why Ryder left, it was up to one of them – okay him – Sam was sliding across the floors in boxers, dark glasses and from the straining buttons, one of Blaine's shirts. "You are obviously miserable."
Jake didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I can't believe he left me."
"Why don't you go after him?"
"And say what? You have no idea the games I have played, the stuff I've said and done to get with him. He'll never trust me again."
"Do you love him?" Blaine asked.
"More than anything."
"But you're terrified of being thought of as gay."
"What?" Jake frowned. "How could you think that? Sure maybe at first it was scary but I adapted pretty fast."
"Then what is it?"
"My mom – uh" He shook his head taking another puff. "She loved my dad so much that it's like something inside her broke when he left. She puts on a brave face but no other guy has been able to get anywhere with her. I don't want to end up like her. All sad because of some guy."
"This is because you are afraid of love?"
"Don't put it like that, it makes me sound stupid."
God, this boy needed a truckload of therapists working round the clock to fix him. "Go talk to him. Make him listen."
"He won't…"
Blaine persisted, pushing past his doubt. "Tell him you'll stay with him, no matter what. It's all he really wants to hear. And then – here's the kicker - actually stay with him until he believes you."
A rapping at the glass doors distracted him and he spotted a disheveled giggling Kurt waving and mimicking goodbyes. Karofsky looming besides him. Oh hell! Being the voice of reason was messing with his drunk.
"Go home to Ryder." He told Jake. Then reentered the muggy apartment pulling Kurt aside.
"What are you doing?"
"Leaving." He whispered.
"With him?"
Kurt blushed, a silly smile gracing his lips. "Yes"
"No. You are too wasted to be deciding this right now. If I let you leave with him and you regret it in the morning you'll never forgive me."
Kurt's face dropped, and he chewed on his bottom lip then nodded. "K"
"You can hook up with him tomorrow. In the mean time - dance."
The party wound down slowly, guests drifting out in groups and some pairs. They remaining McKinley-nites dropped pretty much where they stood. Curling up in piles on the floor pillows. Blaine locked up and dimmed the lights, crashing on a pile of cushions. Right then Sam crawled in next to him, wrapping his long legs around his.
"Kurt's in our bed." He mumbled.
"I couldn't let him leave."
"S'okay you are here." He garbled. 'This was awesome. We should do it every year."
Blaine smiled at his lagging excitement. "I love you Sammy." He whispered brushing the hair off his face.
"Love you more."
The song Blaine did is 'Wake Me Up' by Ed Sheeran. It is simply amaaazing!
