XIV. Smile

The worst part about school the next day was the smiling. There was no derisive laughter, no jabbing insults as Sam had braced himself for…just smiles. Cold, calculating, conniving smiles, as if they were just waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on him. For him to make one more mistake.

Sam smiled right back at them. It didn't matter that he felt like he was going to puke, that he could feel eyes boring holes into his whole body; he wasn't going to let them scare him. He just wasn't.

So he tried his best to ignore the bile rising in his stomach. He tried to ignore his swimming head. He tried to ignore the narrowed eyes and raised eyebrows. He tried to ignore the smiles, but It didn't work, and soon Sam found himself with his head down, eyes glued to the floor, hand gripping the strap of his backpack. And still he could feel them, drilling into his back as he made his way through the hallway, and the only thing he could think besides get me out of here was I don't know how Blaine does this everyday. He bit his lip as he opened his locker, trying to quell the nausea.

"Sam."

He breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar voice and almost smiled, until he looked into Blaine's face and the hurt mirrored there. "Blaine, I—"

"No, shut up," Blaine cut him off with a shake of his head. He spoke in a whisper, so low that no one else could hear. "Don't tell me it's fine, because it's not. And you have to believe me, because I am so, so sorry, and I'd understand if you never wanted anything to do with me ever again, I would push away everything I feel for you if you wanted, I would, and I—"

Sam slammed his locker shut with a loud bang, effectively silencing Blaine. He tried to remain serious, but his lips couldn't help but quirk into a smile.

"I cannot believe you just said any of that," he said, not bothering to whisper. Hey, he liked to think he was a nice kid; why give those people a few feet away a reason to strain their poor little ears? Before Blaine could respond, he continued, "I fucked everything up, Blaine, because I was too much of a coward to say what I actually wanted to you, and then I went and kissed you like it was no big deal, and you shouldn't want anything to do with me, so what are you talking about?"

Blaine just stared at him with a blank face. "But…what?"

"You're saying you're not upset about yesterday?"

"No, but you should be—"

Sam didn't let him finish; instead, he threw his arms him and planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"So I'm finally allowed to do that?" he asked breathlessly, eyes sparkling.

He watched as Blaine's face went from surprise to utter shock, to a blush, to a wide smile. "I mean, if you're sure you want to—"

"You don't know how much I do."

And this time it was the both of them, Sam leaning in and Blaine putting his arms around his neck, pulling him further down.

And it was incredible, and when they broke apart the sinister smiles of before had turned into retching noises and jeering calls and hurled insults, and neither of them could bring themselves to care as they turned and smiled at the onlookers.

"Hey everyone," Blaine called into the crowd, spurred on by a surge of untouchable joy deep within him. "Fuck off."

The shouts followed them as they walked away, but this time it was easy for Sam to ignore everything. Because Blaine was smiling up at him, and those eyes were crinkling as they laughed, and he was smiling the most beautiful smile Sam had ever seen.