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C2: Los Angeles
In Los Angeles, Sam felt like giving up. Like putting on his running shoes and sprinting all the way back to Kentucky into his mother's arms. Everything was going wrong: he was sharing a room with Blaine, who'd finally had enough of the not-so-discreet space Sam had been taking, and had consequently started expressing his frustrations; Finn's plaque had been stolen and the team had low morale; Carole and Burt had decided they couldn't bare to stay anymore after Tina's unintentionally insensitive comment. To make it worse, Sam's impromptu make-out session with Tina had hurt Blaine even more. Apparently Sam always ditched him for girls (Blaine had listed Brittany, Penny the nurse, and Tina being the last straw) and was also homophobic because he couldn't even be in the same hotel room with him for a long period of time. Sam had called him ridiculous, citing all their sleepovers as evidence that he wasn't homophobic. But he didn't have anything to defend himself about the girls. It was true, and it made him feel shallow and gross. Blaine had stormed out and they hadn't really spoken since. Rehearsals had been a nightmare- Ryder and Jake constantly bickering and throwing shade at each other, Marley sulking in the corner when Kitty (her best friend) made fun of her, Unique throwing temper tantrums at not getting enough glory notes, etc. He felt like he'd let Finn down- he was supposed to be leading this group, but it was falling apart. They'd all made up soon enough, but it'd felt superficial and just for the sake of not giving Mr. Schue a nervous breakdown. That didn't't stop the group from planning a night out on the town (unbeknownst to Mr. Schue), but Sam had wanted nothing more than to have a hot shower and retire to the comfort of his bed.
So that's what he did... or tried to do anyway. His usual deep and dorky shower thoughts of Avatar conspiracies were no where to be found. He felt miserable. And when Against All Odds started playing on his phone, he couldn't hold back the tears anymore. He'd cried in frustration for what felt like hours (twenty minutes) before he gave up decided to try and just sleep it off. He turned the music off, wrapped a towel round his waist, and laid on his bed in foetus position, not bothering to turn any of the lights off or get under the covers.
Noticing one of Blaine's bow ties on the bed across him, he burst into tears again.
Thirty minutes later, he was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Panicking, he wiped his tears and pretended to be asleep. He wasn't in the mood for more arguing with Blaine.
Blaine tiptoed inside the room; it was a little past midnight, and he didn't want to wake Sam. He was surprised the bedroom light was on, but he still didn't want to risk waking Sam up- Nationals were tomorrow, and an another argument with him would only lower their chances of winning even more. He set his things on the table by the door, took his blazer and shoes off, and slipped quietly inside the bathroom to shower (and de-gel his hair), brush his teeth and moisturise.
He emerged from the bathroom in boxers and a grey v-neck a little later (he was much more efficient at his nighttime routine than Rachel) and was startled by the sound of sniffling from the Adonis that amusingly laid in foetus position in nothing but a towel.
"Sam?" he whispered softly. He noticed Sam flinch and knew he'd been pretending to be asleep this whole time.
He walked over to the middle of the twin beds, where Sam was lying, and sat down by his torso. When he was greeted with silence still, he tried to buy time to think of how to deal with the situation (feeling like a father comforting a kid who'd woken up from a nightmare) by leaning to turn the bedside table lamp on and switch the main light off. He sighed.
"Sam?" he whispered again, while his thumb stroked circles into Sam's forearm.
"Look, I know we haven't been getting on recently, but if you're upset about anything, you can still talk to me."
Sam burst into tears, again.
"Shhh, it's okay. Move up." Blaine said lightly, then twisted his body round so that he was sitting up against the headboard, while Sam repositioned to get under the duvet and burrow into Blaine, sobbing slightly.
"Hey, it's okay, tell me what's going on." Blaine said again, as he wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulder, and continued his comforting thumb stroking.
Sam wiped his eyes, red and puffy, then huffed and finally started explaining-
"I just feel so... worthless, Blaine. Like I'm failing at everything and I'll never be good enough for anyone, or anything. I came back to McKinley for Mercedes, and she broke my heart. I also came back for glee- and this year it became my duty to lead the group. But I suck. I lost Finn's plaque, I couldn't get Carole to stay, I couldn't get the group to get along... I completely fucked up my interview for that scholarship too. And I really miss my family. But I can't bring myself to ring them anymore- what am I supposed to tell them? That I'm failing at everything? That their stupid son is so fucking useless that he fucked up the interview for the only college that would consider taking on his dumb, dyslexic and downright brainless self? I feel so empty, Blaine, so empty. Everything hurts. Mercedes broke me. Then Brittany left- and I knew it was inevitable, but she left. God, I felt so unlovable I clawed at the opportunity for a girl's attention- Penny, Tina... and it was never enough. They only really liked me for my body, not me. And even then that wasn't enough- I feel like my body's the only thing I have going about me and even that's not good enough. Everyone always leaves! I just want someone to see me… and then everything with you, Blaine. I've somehow managed to ruin the best friendship I ever made- the only thing that kept me going this year so... consistently. You were always there for me, and I've ruined it. I ruin everything I touch, I'm so fucking stupid, I-"
"Shhh, Sam, it's okay," Blaine cut him off.
"No! It isn't! I'm a fucking failure!" Sam beat his hand into the mattress as he cried into Blaine's chest. Hot salty tears trickled down him, soaking his t-shirt thoroughly, but he chose to ignore it.
"Sam, listen to me, really listen. Deep down, you know that Mercedes doesn't give a shit about the superficial stuff. That's why she fell for you, because you didn't either- and I know she broke your heart, but you can't let yourself believe that it's because you were never good enough…Leading this group- especially with so many Sophomores this year- it's a lot harder than Mr Schue makes it look. And even then he's always struggled. You're only eighteen, Sam, no one expects you to be able to keep everyone in check unless you turned into a clone of Rachel."
Sam let out a small a little at that, the tears still falling, but his reaction made Blaine laugh.
"And you can't blame yourself for Carole, Sam. I doubt it was even Tina's fault. This trip was always going to be a lot for her to handle, and it didn't surprise me that she couldn't. But I honestly think she'll return. For Finn, she'll come back. And the plaque is just a plaque, Sam. You said it yourself, the plaque isn't Finn. And I bet that if it was a menace from a rival group who stole it- they'll return it. If not, we'll just get a new one…And please, stop! You are not dumb, stupid or brainless. Yeah, you're dyslexic, but that doesn't take away from your worth anymore than Artie's wheelchair doesn't make him less valuable. It's a disability, you have to accept that, but not let it get in the way of your sense of self worth. You're so talented, Sam. Who cares if you fucked up that interview? You can sing, play guitar, write music. You're amazing at football and you're even pretty sick at synchronised swimming. There will be something for you in this life. Something that fulfils you- you can't get that from a girl's attention. And Sam, your parents will love you no matter what. Hell, even if you were put in prison, they'd still love you. I don't think they'll ever forget how you used to balance two jobs and looking after Stacie and Stevie, as well as your studies. Or how even when Dwight found a job, you didn't relax. I know it came across like I judged you for it, but I actually really admired your stripping career. I can't imagine how horrible and degrading it felt. Even though you joke about it and brush it off with your body rolls, I know how insecure you get about your body- and to put yourself out there like that for your family- it must've taken a lot of courage. You're amazing, really. Anybody can see that. You're funny, kind, caring. You know Marley had a little crush on you at the start of the year, right? I mean, I know practically everyone crushes on you in glee- but because of the way you stuck up for her and apologised to her. I've always envied your down-to-earth-ness and your moral code. You're my best-friend, and you're good enough for me, more than good enough…more than I deserve. You haven't ruined anything- I know we've been really distant lately, but I guess this is all an explanation to that, right? And you were sure as hell good enough for 'Cedes. Okay? Don't let me hear you say otherwise."
It was a lot to take in. They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, Blaine's extended hand tracing reassuring patterns into Sam's shoulder, his other hand playing with Sam's hair the way Sam had always pleaded for him to whenever he'd read him fan-fiction.
"Thank you." Sam whispered, and Blaine nodded (though Sam couldn't see that). "And, I'm really sorry. I never meant to hurt you with the distance... I just needed space."
"No, it's fine. I get it now- you felt lonely and lost and sad. I just wish you'd have told me instead of wallowing in your misery alone. That's what friends are for- the hard times, not just the good ones."
Sam let out a deep breath and shifted his position to turn to Blaine.
"No. That's not it. I should be honest- you deserve the truth."
A look of concern glazed over Blaine's dark eyes, as his eyebrows knitted together in worry.
"I never told you, because I was always... scared. Not scared of what it meant... but how you'd react. Scared of... rejection."
"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, more than puzzled.
Sam sighed again. "I love you, Blaine... more than a friend. And I know I fall fast and hard all the time, but I love you. I'll never be Kurt and you'll never be Mercy, but I can't help the way I feel. And I was scared of ruining our friendship. Scared of your rejection. Scared of not being good enough. Of you leaving me..."
"Oh." Was all Blaine could muster.
Sam laughed ironically "You don't have to say anything. I know that's a lot to take in. You've always thought I was straight and you're probably confused. Fuck, it was confusing for me, too. I'm not gay and I'm not into guys, but... like, I'm into you. Everything about you. And I needed space because I couldn't control... well, my dick. Every time I was around you I was so aroused. Even when I thought about you. And it made me uncomfortable. Not because you're a guy- but, because I couldn't do anything about it. I'd never been this aroused when I'd make out with Quinn, or Santana. In Kentucky, there was this girl who reminded me of Mercy. So I went for it. We fucked all the time, but it never meant anything, so she didn't turn me on like you do. When me and 'Cedes reconnected, my right hand became my best friend. She never let me put a label on us, so I never tried to take things far enough for sex. Brittany obviously took care of my needs, but with you- I didn't know what to do. I felt like I'd be violating our friendship if I ever got off to my arousal. The cold showers were torturous, man. And I couldn't do anything about it because I was too scared to tell you."
Blaine sat there in shock at Sam's reveal. Processing. The fuck? He pinched himself to check he wasn't dreaming, then burst out laughing.
"What?" Sam asked desperately.
"It's just so surreal! It's funny. I mean, hats off to you for being brave enough to finally tell me, but wow, that is not what I was expecting."
Sam flinched, a look of hurt in his green orbs. He braced himself for the coming rejection, for the insecurities to seep back in.
"I'm still not over Kurt. I love him. But- I've been crushing over you for nearly the whole year now! As shocking as your revelation is- why'd you only just let me know now, Sam?" He sighed.
"That's exactly why. Because all you've ever had on me was a crush. And because I could never replace Kurt."
"Sam...I'll never replace Mercedes either. But you obviously needed relief from all your... tension, or whatever. And it would've been so much easier if you'd have just told me."
"I guess. But it wouldn't change anything. I doubt you'd have jumped into a relationship with me given the chance, Blaine."
"What makes you so sure?"
"You said it yourself- you crushed on me, Blaine. Whereas I had these strong as fuck feelings for you. Infatuation is not the same as love, and it made me feel small."
Blaine sighed again. "Sam, you need to get it into that pretty little blonde head of yours that you are good enough. When I crushed on you, and I still do, by the way, it wasn't just your body. It was your smile, the way you stuck up for people. How your impressions, though crazy sometimes, never bored me. Your ditziness…courage, strength. The way you loved your family and forgave me for the way I treated you last year. I loved everything about you too. I always appreciated your body, but I only started liking you when I got to know you more. That's what I meant when I said crush- I just couldn't detail it so much- because it was awkward as hell! I thought you were straight as anything- what makes you think I would randomly confess my love for you?" He chuckled.
Sam met his gaze and pulled that cheeky, lopsided grin.
"I am straight!" He insisted.
And Blaine edged closer, instantly changing the dynamic (that was somehow previously completely platonic- even though they'd been sat half naked under the covers together for an hour) into one of grave, sexual tension.
Blaine teased Sam, his hot breath on Sam's neck and ears, "Are you sure about that?" and pulled away, smirking.