It's hot as fuck in Chicago.
Sam grew up in Tennessee. You'd think Tennessee summers would be hotter than Illinois ones. Probably they are—probably Sam just didn't care at the time because he was a kid. Then again, he didn't live in a third-floor apartment with no cross-ventilation in Tennessee. There's a window air conditioner here, but that's in the bedroom. Mike's bedroom.
Sam and Blaine are just visiting for a couple weeks. They originally planned to celebrate graduation with a trip to New York, but after breaking up again, things aren't great between Blaine and Kurt. Blaine mentioned his disappointment to Mike, who offered to host them here, if they didn't mind sleeping in the living room.
The front door opens and Mike comes in, saying into his phone, "Sam is, I don't know where Blaine is." He looks up and says to Sam, "Tina says hi."
"Hi, Tina!" Sam yells. "Blaine is buying more freezer pops!"
"Oh, are we out?"
"This is the last one," Sam says, waving the plastic sleeve of melted blue sugar water that he's been holding against the back of his neck. It's barely even cool anymore, but he returns it to the spot on his neck anyway.
"Yeah, I think we're going out tonight," Mike tells Tina, looking to Sam for confirmation. Sam nods vigorously. The last place he wants to spend his Friday night is in the sweltering apartment.
"Good," Tina says. "Maybe if they get drunk they'll start making out. I saw them make out once and it was super hot."
"Mm-hmm." Mike has heard the story of the super hot Blam makeout session more than once. In great detail. "Anyway, I doubt anyone's going to get drunk." They all have fake IDs, thanks to that guy Sebastian introduced Blaine to, but they haven't been having more than a beer or two when they go out. Mostly they just dance and sing karaoke.
"No? Then you should find some other way to get them to make out again."
Mike glances at Sam, who's sitting with his face inches from the fan. He looks like a model with his hair blowing back like that. "That's really up to them," he says. He needs to end this call before Tina gets going about how adorable Blam would be as a real couple—she gets loud when she gets on that topic, and Mike doesn't want Sam to overhear. "Well, I know you're busy. Talk to you later."
"What's really up to us?" Sam asks after Mike puts the phone down.
"Oh, you know Tina," Mike replies vaguely. He opens the refrigerator, pulls out a can of Coke, and holds it to his neck the way Sam is holding his sugar water packet. "Oh, hey, you'll never guess who texted me. Matt Ru-…Oh wait, you never met Matt Rutherford. I guess Blaine didn't either."
"I think I've heard people mention him, though. Quiet guy, good dancer?"
"Amazing dancer. Not as quiet as everyone thinks. I mean, he's quiet around people he doesn't know well. And no one else in glee really took the time to get to know him, which is their loss, because he's just a really smart, funny, sweet, and generous guy."
"I can see why you two got along then," Sam says, because Mike is all of those things too. It's a little odd that Mike used the word sweet, though. "It kinda sounds like you had a crush on him."
"I did, totally."
"What?"
"What?"
Before Sam can clarify what Mike means by that, Blaine comes in holding a box of one hundred freezer pops. "Thank God," Sam says. "The last one is all melted."
"Sorry, these aren't frozen yet." Blaine opens the box, takes out a handful of the pouches, and places them in the freezer. Sam gets up to put his in there too, but Blaine stops him. "You can't just put it back. It's been on your neck."
"So what? My neck isn't dirty."
"But it's sweaty."
"Ugh, fine." Sam tries to wash the plastic off in the sink, but somehow punctures it and gets sticky blue goo all over his hand. This is apparently hilarious, at least to hear Blaine laugh about it.
Sam lunges, trying to wipe some of the syrup on Blaine. He misses and chases him out to the living room. Blaine runs around the couch, Sam runs after him. Sam switches directions, Blaine switches too. Sam jumps over the back of the couch and tackles Blaine. Straddling Blaine's hips, Sam wipes his hand all over Blaine's neck.
"Sam, ew!" Blaine is laughing way too hard for Sam to take this as a serious protest.
Mike crosses his arms and looks down at them. "Children!" he says in mock disapproval.
"Okay, fine." Holding Blaine's arms against the floor, Sam leans down and licks the syrup off his neck.
"Sam!" Blaine's had Sam's tongue on him before. The neck is probably Blaine's second favorite non-obscene place for it to be, in fact. But Sam isn't trying to start something like that now—they don't really do that anymore, and even when they used to, it was never in front of people.
Sam probably shouldn't have done that. The idea of licking Blaine was too appealing to pass up the excuse—the only problem is that now he wants to tear Blaine's shirt off and lick his chest and then tear his pants off and lick his… Okay, but yeah, he has to remember that now they're just playing around. "See? Your neck is sweaty too, but I'm not a baby about it." He rolls off of Blaine, who sits up, laughing. Because they're just ordinary friends.
"Tina's right," Mike mutters to himself. Those two should get together. Plus, it would really be hot to watch them make out for real.
"Right about what?"
"No, nothing. Blaine, do you want to wash off your neck before we go?"
Blaine's neck does feel sticky still. Also he feels sweaty all over—from the heat in general, but also from running around and roughhousing with Sam. He says he'd actually like to take a shower if the other guys aren't in a hurry.
As soon as Sam hears the water start, he asks, "Was it about Blaine, the thing that Tina said? Is that why you had to get rid of him, so you could tell me?"
"It was about both of you, if you really want to know. She thinks you'd make an adorable couple."
Sam was already sweating, but it suddenly feels like he's sweating a lot more. He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and says, "Tina thinks everyone is gay."
Mike shrugs. "Maybe she thinks you're bi. And, I mean, she figured me out, so she kind of has a track record on these things."
That's right, what Mike was saying just before Blaine got home. "So you and Matt?"
Mike sits on the couch; Sam has to scoot back so he can look up at him. "It was one-sided. I was crushing on him hard all of sophomore year."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I did, actually. It took me most of the year to work up the courage, but finally I did it. He was sweet about it and it never affected our friendship or anything. But he's totally straight."
Sam nods. "Sounds familiar."
"Does it?"
Actually it doesn't sound very similar at all to how things really were with Blaine. Blaine admitted to having a crush, but Sam was too chicken to admit to anything more than being curious—even though he's pretty sure he was crushing way harder than Blaine was. Blaine's feelings were based largely on having just been dumped. Sam's were based on…well, he wasn't sure, exactly; they'd taken him totally by surprise. Messing around didn't, like, satisfy his curiosity and make them go away; it only made them stronger. Maybe if he'd said that, Blaine wouldn't have gotten back together with Kurt.
No, who's he kidding? Blaine totally would have gotten back together with Kurt no matter what. It's actually good that Sam never told him the truth. But it sounds like Mike knows that, and how could he?
Oh, wait. Maybe he's just asking because he doesn't know about any of it. No one knows about them messing around, of course, but Tina and some of their other friends at McKinley knew about Blaine's crush. It's a little weird that Tina wouldn't have mentioned it to Mike, especially if she told him they'd make an adorable couple, but…
"Wait, why did you say Tina's right?"
"Right about what?"
"That we'd make an adorable couple?"
"Well, I mean…Blaine's hot. And you're hot. And you obviously like each other a lot. So if you were bi, then…I mean, adorable is more Tina's word, but…yeah."
Okay. If Mike is bi, then it makes sense that he'd think that. Sam agrees, actually that he and Blaine would make a great (if not exactly adorable) couple. Not if Sam were bi—which he definitely is—but if Blaine were interested. But he's not—he hasn't made a move or anything since he broke up with Kurt again. So either he's still hoping to be on again again with Kurt, or there's some other reason he doesn't want to be with Sam.
Wow, this is depressing. Sam doesn't want to think about all the many reasons Blaine might have for not wanting to be with him. Instead, he asks, "Have there been any other guys besides Matt?"
"Other attractions, sure. Matt's the only one I've had serious feelings for."
"Have you done anything with any of the other guys you were attracted to?"
"Just one. There was this guy in one of my dance classes. Rico. We never dated or anything, but a few times we—"
"You guys aren't conspiring to double-team me with popsicles, I hope."
Sam jumps, not entirely from the surprise of Blaine just appearing in the doorway. There's also the image of "double-teaming" him with Mike.
Mike twists his head to look at Blaine. "No conspiracy, I promise. I was just telling Sam about this guy I've messed around with a little."
"Oh! And by messed around, you mean…"
"Oral was as far as we went."
Blaine crosses the room and sits down. "Wow," he says. Tina has described Mike's dick to him; he's now jealous of the guy who had it in his mouth. "So, like, a one-time thing, or, like, just an experiment, or…"
"More than once. Not really an experiment, except that I didn't know what I was doing when we started. I did already know I was bi, though."
Blaine refrains from observing that Tina really seems to have a type. "Wow, thanks for telling us this, Mike. I mean, I hope you didn't intend to only tell Sam, I hope I didn't force you to come out to me too. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
"No, me neither," Sam adds. He knows Mike wouldn't tell anyone about him either, but still he doesn't say anything.
"It's fine. I didn't mention it at McKinley because, I don't know, I was worried about it somehow reaching my father. I still don't especially want him to know, but it doesn't seem very likely that anyone you guys might tell would mention it to him. You ready?"
They walk to Mike's favorite bar again—he's taken them there a couple times already. It's around a mile away—a long, scorching, sweaty mile. They should have taken a bus, they agree (too late)—it just didn't occur to them because walking one mile is not usually a big deal. They pass other bars on the way, but none with karaoke and dancing like Mike's usual place.
The blast of air conditioning when they walk in is a huge relief. "We're staying right here until they throw us out at two," Blaine announces, and no one disagrees.
It's not actually long before the chilled air is too cold on their sweaty skin, and by the time they've got their drinks, they've broken out in goosebumps. That's fine, though—dancing is a great way to warm up.
Sam has never spent too much time thinking about guys other than Blaine being hot. Not consciously, anyway. But watching Mike dance…like, it's not news to him that Mike is hot, but, knowing what he now knows about Mike, he can't help but get ideas.
Blaine catches Sam checking Mike out. Well, why shouldn't he? Mike's a good-looking guy. But the thing is, Sam always made it seem like he wasn't into guys per se…like he just happened to be an open-minded guy with a gay best friend, so when that gay best friend got dumped, why not help cheer him up? It wasn't that he didn't seem to enjoy they stuff they did together, it was just that he was almost entirely straight. Not that he ever actually said that…but he didn't say otherwise, either.
It's worse, the idea that maybe Sam's more bi than he seems. When Blaine was just rounding him up to straight, he could accept that whatever thing they had together was just, like, bros helping bros. But if it wasn't just that—or if it didn't have to be just that—then there had to be some other reason that Sam didn't like him as much as he liked Sam.
Blaine drinks more than he usually does when they go out. He doesn't drink a lot, but he also doesn't have much tolerance, so it affects him noticeably. His gestures become bigger, his laughter becomes louder. What Mike notices most, though, is that he touches Sam a lot more than usual—usual, for these two, being already kind of a lot. Blaine dances really close to Sam, for example, even though the dance floor isn't especially crowded.
They go upstairs for karaoke, and while they're waiting their turn to sing, Blaine leans against Sam. He can't possibly be drunk enough to be having trouble standing, low tolerance or not—Mike's pretty sure he's using his tipsiness as an excuse. Sam doesn't seem to mind, he just wraps an arm around him while they discuss what song they want to sing.
"I can't believe no one yet has sung the perfect song for tonight!" Blaine has to yell for Sam to be able to hear him, even though they're right next to each other.
"What's the perfect song?" Sam yells back.
"I can't say it! Someone else will steal the idea!"
Sam doesn't press him, although he very much doubts anyone is eavesdropping on them. He doubts anyone would be able to hear if they were trying to eavesdrop. He puts this theory to the test by trying to listen in on the conversation of the people standing next to them.
He can hear them when he really listens, and he's glad he picked this moment to really listen. One of them is saying that there are cops downstairs checking IDs. He's a little unclear on what they're doing when they find people with fake ones, but he knows it can't be good. He grabs Blaine by the wrist and announces, "We have to go!" Blaine doesn't even ask why, he just grabs Mike and pulls him along, just as Sam is pulling him. Sam doesn't see any cops downstairs, but he does notice enough people exiting hastily—people on the younger side who might not have legit IDs—that he's glad he got everyone out of there.
They discuss whether to try a different bar, but the thing with the cops has them a little spooked, so they decide to just head back to Mike's apartment. It's not late, but at least the sun is down and there's a decent breeze now, so walking home seems preferable to getting on a crowded bus.
"Now can you tell me what the perfect song was?" Sam asks, not even having to shout.
Rather than just name it, Blaine—naturally—sings the first bit: "Hot town, summer in the city. Back of my neck gettin' dirty and gritty…"
Sam knows this one, more or less, and he sings the next couple lines, only having to mumble over a few of the words. Mike also sort of knows it, and he sings a good approximation of the last two lines of the verse. (Sam can't remember how they always happened to know all the words to every song when they were back in glee.) Blaine starts on the chorus: "But at night it's a different world. Go out and find a girl—"
"Wait, wait!" Sam interrupts him. "We have to change it to 'find a boy.'"
"I sing lots of songs about girls without changing the genders."
"Yeah, but like…" Sam has a sort of confused idea that this is his chance to come out. Blaine already knows about him, but Mike doesn't—or he doesn't have confirmation, anyway, even though Tina somehow guessed and told him her suspicions. "But we all wanna find a boy. All three of us. Mike and I might also be interested in girls, but none of us are not interested in guys."
Blaine stops walking; the other guys go on a couple more steps before stopping too. He knows it's stupid to be surprised, and in a way he isn't, but he kind of thought he was imagining Sam checking out Mike. He definitely hoped he was imagining it. "Wow," he manages. "So you're bi too. So…how long have you known?"
It's a weird question, since Blaine was literally right there when Sam figured it out. But then Sam realizes that Blaine doesn't know what Tina told Mike, so he must just not want to give anything away about the two of them. He's actually not sure whether Blaine's trying to protect Sam or himself; in case it's himself, he decides not to give anything away either. He answers vaguely, "For a while now."
Mike's not sure whether he should pretend to be surprised or not, and he settles on patting Sam on the arm and saying, "Thanks for telling us."
Blaine's not actually drunk, but he's had enough to not be able to stop himself from asking, "So just what kind of boy are you looking for?"
Sam has no idea why Blaine is asking that when he knows very well not just what kind of boy but what specific boy he's interested in. Right? But…maybe he somehow doesn't? Because he's not cruel enough to make Sam say it just to get rejected. Unsure how to answer, he decides to pretend not to have heard the question. "We do have to change world, though, too. World doesn't rhyme with boy."
They walk half a block with no one saying anything. Mike's not sure what's going on with those two, but he's pretty sure he should stay out of it. "World doesn't really rhyme with girl either," he points out. "Though at least it's close."
Sam is so grateful, even though he's not sure whether Mike is helping him out on purpose. "How about toy?" he suggests.
Mike suggests, "Ploy?"
Sam suggests, "De Snoy?"
Now Mike is the one to momentarily stop walking. "What in the world is the snoy?"
"Never mind," Sam says quickly. "How about…" Damn it, he can't think of any more rhymes!
"I've got it!" Mike says. He clears his throat and sings: "At night it's a different joy. Go out and find a boy. Come on, come on and dance all night…"
"Perfect!" Sam says, and he and Blaine join in. They finish the chorus, then start over at the beginning and sing the song all the way through, with the improved boy lines. They sing it through repeatedly the rest of the way back, seemingly annoying more people on the street than they entertain.
The apartment is just as hot as it was when they left—possibly worse, in fact, though maybe the lack of air just makes it feel worse compared to the breeze outside. Mike goes straight to the bedroom to turn on the window air conditioner. He announces he's going to take a shower but invites Sam and Blaine to hang out in the bedroom where it's cool for as long as they want.
They sit on the edge of Mike's bed, as close to the air conditioner as possible so it will blow on their faces. "We should go to a gay bar next time," Blaine says. "Find you a guy."
"I'm not really looking for a random hook-up. But if you are…"
"No."
"Oh, right. Duh."
"What do you mean?"
"Just…you and Kurt will probably get back together. Right?"
"Uh, no. We've broken up twice. I do learn eventually."
"Hmm." That sounds more like Blaine being pessimistic about his chances than like him actually being over Kurt. "But you still miss him."
"I guess," Blaine says. "I mean, I miss him as a friend. If we hadn't gotten back together, I think we'd be friends now, but...well, you know how much we were fighting the second time around. He said some things, and I said some things…things that I'm not sure we can get past."
"Right." Sam does remember that, of course. He just assumed Blaine would try to get past them…and not just to be friends. "But you don't want to look for someone at a gay bar. So do you just not miss any of it? Like sex, or…"
"I definitely miss sex."
"Yeah, me too. And even just like…kissing."
"I do too," Blaine says, just loud enough for Sam to hear him over the A/C.
"Can I…" Sam scoots closer. He knows he shouldn't ask what he wants to, he knows asking would just be setting himself up to get hurt. Just because Blaine doesn't want to get back together with Kurt doesn't mean he does want to be with Sam. But… "Can I kiss you?"
Blaine knows there are a million reasons he should say no; he just can't think of them at the moment. He leans in, strokes Sam's cheek, and kisses him. He means for it to be a kiss; it certainly doesn't occur to him that Sam means for it to be more than that. But one kiss gets away from him—from both of them—pretty fast.
Mike dries off from his shower and changes into the clean boxers and t-shirt he took into the bathroom with him. He returns to the bedroom to see Blaine lying back on the bed with Sam partially on top of him, hands on each other's chests, tongues in each other's mouths. He sees why Tina was so taken with the similar sight she walked in on that one time. But unlike Tina, he doesn't feel like he can just watch without letting them know he's there. "Sorry," he says, loud enough to be sure they hear him over the A/C. They stop what they're doing and look at him, totally startled. "Sorry," he repeats, turning toward the closet so as not to stare. "Just let me get some clothes on and…yeah, I'll just run out to the 7-Eleven or something. Or you know what? Why don't you guys take the bedroom for the night? I'll be good on the couch."
Sam scrambles up off Blaine and off the bed; Blaine sits up and, straightening his shirt, says, "Sorry, Mike! We were just…"
"Yeah, I saw. It's fine. Let me just grab a pillow."
"But it's so hot out there," Sam says. "And it's your room."
Yeah, Mike really doesn't want to sleep in the sweltering living room. Furthermore, he feels like such a jerk for having been willing to let those guys sleep out there. No night so far has been this hot, but still. "I should have invited you guys to sleep in here with me in the first place."
"Three guys in one bed? Seems kinda gay," Sam jokes.
Mike hadn't actually been thinking about them all sleeping in the bed together. Then again…"I mean, we are all…at least kinda gay."
"That's true…" Sam looks from Mike to Blaine and back again.
"But I know you were just kidding," Mike adds. "Obviously you two have your own thing going on here."
"No, we don't have a thing," Blaine says.
"No," Sam agrees, because of course Blaine feels that way.
Mike's not sure if the other guys are lying or in denial or what. Maybe they really don't have a thing. Well, there's obviously something—even if he didn't believe Tina saw what she said she did, he just saw it himself—but maybe they really are just friends who make out without it meaning something more. Mike could be down with that. Wait, are they actually asking him to…? Well, there's one way to find out. "Wait, are you actually asking me to…?"
"Well since you mentioned you and that guy from your dance class, I have been wondering," Blaine admits.
"Me too," Sam says. "But if it'd be weird…"
"It would definitely be weird," Mike says.
Blaine says, "Yeah. Yeah, of course."
Sam nods. "But like…would it be weird in a bad way?"
The guys all look at each other for several seconds before Blaine carefully ventures, "I actually think it would be weird in a kind of awesome way."
"So…" Mike takes off his t-shirt, then looks to the other guys for confirmation. Sam peels off his t-shirt in response; Blaine nods and removes his shirt too. "I'm still really only interested in oral. At most."
Blaine respects Mike's preference, of course, but as far as he's concerned if they're going to do this, they should really do it. "I'd be good with anal. Receiving or…" Sam's never bottomed—at least not with Blaine, and if he's done it with anyone else, Blaine would rather not find that out right now. "Receiving, I guess. Wait, does anyone have lube?"
Mike has some. RIco brought it over one time "just in case," and they never used it together so the bottle is still full. He finds it in the back of his underwear drawer and places it on the bedside table.
"That's awesome," Sam says, because fucking Blaine is the best thing ever (even if he would also really like to try it the other way too).
Mike crawls to the middle of the bed, having it sort of in the back of his mind (and sort of in the front of his mind) that if he isn't right between the other two, they'll end up ignoring him. And he'd been fine with just the two of them fucking, but he offered to give them privacy and they insisted they didn't need it.
Well, this feels awkward as hell all of a sudden, but Blaine is the one who sort of pushed for it, so he needs to do something. He can't really lie down on the side of the bed he and Sam are sitting on—not with Sam still sitting there, so he starts to crawl over Mike. And then he changes his mind, stops while he's still right over Mike, and leans down to kiss him.
Sam feels totally different watching Blaine kiss Mike than any time he watched Blaine kiss Kurt. Well, not totally different—that was hot too—but the important thing is that he doesn't feel that jealous watching Blaine kiss Mike. A little maybe. It's not as good as when Blaine was kissing him a few minutes ago. But, like, the way Blaine is leaning down means his ass is kind of up in the air, and that makes up for any jealousy.
He's still wearing pants, but it's this red pair that really hugs his ass and is one of Sam's favorites. Not that it's hard to make Blaine's ass look good—it looks amazing in anything and even better in nothing…though, come to think of it, those thongs he used to wear under his Cheerios uniform were pretty close to as good as nothing. God, Sam wonders…there's probably no way he kept those, right? Much less brought them to Chicago? No matter. Even if Blaine's wearing tighty whities, Sam can't wait for him to get his pants off.
In the meantime, though, he feels oddly pervy just watching Blaine and Mike make out. He stretches out along Mike's side and strokes his chest. His fingers brush over the nipples and Mike makes a squeaky noise into Blaine's mouth. Sam likes that noise so he does it again, gets another squeak out of him. He squeezes—not hard, but firmly—and the squeaking becomes more of a moaning.
Mike can't really see Sam, not without turning his head away from Blaine, which he doesn't want to do. He reaches out for him blindly, hand landing on his hip. The more stuff Sam does to his nipples, the more he realizes he's squeezing Sam's hip. And then he realizes he's not squeezing Sam's hip so much as his ass. He's only touching over the basketball shorts Sam is wearing, and he really wants to be touching skin. Tentatively, in case he's somehow misunderstood what they're doing here or Sam has changed his mind or something, he works his fingers under the waistband. He feels skin right away, no underwear, and he breaks away from Blaine's kissing to say, "Commando! Nice!"
"Mmm…not exactly."
Blaine groans softly to himself. "Sam, are you wearing a jockstrap?" He knows that Sam loves those things, and he's been trying not to wonder on any given day whether he's got one on, but now maybe he doesn't have to try not to picture it in his head. Now maybe he can see it for real, find out if Sam looks as good in one as he remembers.
"Wanna see?" Sam knows very well that Blaine wants to see him in his jock. Sure enough, Blaine nods enthusiastically—though not that much more enthusiastically than Mike does. Sam stands and walks around to the other side of the bed, where there's more room; Blaine and Mike sit on the edge of the bed to watch him. Humming some stripping music, Sam does a few body rolls before slowly pulling down and removing the shorts.
The fabric is thin; Blaine can see the outline of Sam's dick pretty clearly through it. He's only half-hard but already bulging in the little pouch in front. "Turn around!" Blaine tells him. Sam does it, slowly, still gyrating to his own hummed beat. It should be cheesy as hell, but Sam looks amazing in a jockstrap. Sam claims that his ass is flat and unappealing compared to Blaine's, but from where Blaine sits it has plenty of definition, and the way it's framed by the straps make it more than appealing. Blaine really just wants to jump him, push him down, spread his legs apart…Sam strokes himself while his back is to Mike and Blaine, and by the time he's completed his 360 degree turn, he's fully hard, cock stretching the fabric of the pouch that's barely containing him.
Mike's mouth goes a little dry. Sam's dick is just really, really…big, and is Blaine really going to take that thing in his ass? Have they done more than make out before; did Blaine already know the implications of what he was suggesting? He tears his eyes away from Sam to look at Blaine, who's staring with his mouth open, palming himself through his pants. Whether he already knew or not, he definitely wants it inside him. Mike looks back at Sam, who meets his eye while stroking himself. "Sam, can I do that?"
Sam nods. Mike gets up and stands behind Sam, a little to the side, so he can see Blaine watching them. He starts on Sam's chest, teasing his nipples like Sam did to him. Blaine's eyes are glued to his hands as they move slowly down over Sam's chest, over his abs, onto his hips. Finally Mike strokes lightly over his dick, and even through the layer of cotton it feels so warm.
Mike's touching him kind of tentatively—which makes sense because even with that guy from his dance school or whatever he's almost definitely the least experienced of the three of them when it comes to dick—but Sam hasn't been touched there by anyone but himself in a long time, and he can't help but gasp a little. The A/C is kind of noisy, but he's pretty sure Blaine gasped a little too, just from watching. Mike didn't gasp, but Sam can feel his breath, warm and increasingly heavy on the back of his neck. Even better, he can feel Mike's stiffening (though covered) dick pressing against one bare ass cheek. And then Mike kisses the back of his neck and reaches inside the pouch to cup his balls. He wraps his fingers around the shaft and says, "I don't know how this will be able to fit inside Blaine."
Blaine has wondered the same thing every time he's seen Sam's dick. He's wondering now—it's been a while; will this be the time he's actually not able to take it?—and his ass involuntarily clenches.
Sam says, "If Blaine wants it, it'll fit."
Blaine admits, "I really, really want it."
"Then why don't you lose your pants."
Blaine stands, wishing he'd packed some of Sam's favorite pairs of underwear—the see-through ones or the leopard print bikini briefs or especially one of the thongs that really drove him nuts. He left them at home because he knew that staying in a small apartment together meant Sam was bound to see him in his underwear at some point, and he didn't want it to seem like he was trying to entice him. (Though if he'd thought it would work maybe he would have brought them.) He removes his pants, revealing the red briefs underneath.
"Oh my God, Blaine." Sam knows the tight, skimpy briefs are just what Blaine considers his normal, everyday underwear, but they just fit him so perfectly and make his perky, round butt so fucking irresistible. Not that his perky, round butt needs the help, really.
Blaine really does have a great ass. If Mike hadn't already said he only wanted to do oral…Well, he does only want that, he reminds himself. He might want to go farther with some guy someday, but it'll have to be with someone he's more than friends with. Blaine is great, and super hot, but Mike doesn't feel romantic about him. Furthermore, he's becoming more and more convinced that Sam does feel romantic about Blaine and that the feeling is mutual. In fact…"I really should leave you guys alone."
"Don't go," Sam tells him, and not just because he's afraid if it's just Blaine and him, he'll say something stupid, like I love you.
"Yeah, stay," Blaine agrees, and not just because it sounds like Sam wouldn't want to do this if it's just the two of them.
Well, Mike tried. He could have perhaps tried harder, but…"Okay, I'll stay."
"Yay!" Sam turns to face Mike and gently guides him backwards until he's standing with his back to the wall. He kisses him, then drops to his knees in front of him. He pulls Mike's boxers down, letting his cock spring free. He strokes and licks, really just teasing, until Mike squeezes his shoulder hard and whines, and then he takes the head into his mouth and starts to suck.
The sight of Sam on his knees sucking cock, ass bare in his jockstrap, just about kills Blaine. How did it never occur to him, when Sam used to blow him from time to time, that Sam really seemed to like dick a lot for a straight guy just helping out his best friend? Admittedly he was distracted all those times, but still. He steps out of briefs, gets on his knees behind Sam, and kisses his neck.
Oh, there's Blaine's dick, pressed right up against Sam's ass! Not against one of the cheeks like Mike's was, but in between them. Also unlike Mike's, there's no layer of cotton in the way. If Blaine hadn't specifically said he was only interested in bottoming, Sam would think he wanted to top him. "Hey, babe, you wanna take over what I'm doing here with Mike so I can rim you?"
"Yes."
"Awesome. Uh…" Sam stands and looks around the room, trying to picture how they should all be positioned. "Mike, how about if you get on the bed and Blaine can bend over and suck you?"
"Yeah, that sounds good," Mike says. "Just…"
"Just what?"
"Just, I don't want to sound pervy or anything, but…"
"Dude. I don't think that's something any of us need to worry about right now."
Mike laughs at himself, because Sam has a great point. "Right. Well, Blaine, if you wouldn't mind bending over before I lie down? Because I'd really like to see how you look like that."
"He looks amazing like that. I mean, I assume."
Blaine hopes Sam doesn't really think Mike hasn't figured out they've already done this. He does feel a little weird about bending over just so Mike can check out his ass, but, like, not necessarily in a bad way. The idea that two more or less straight guys (though definitely less straight than he thought up until earlier today) have a thing for his ass is a pretty big ego boost, actually. He stands, turns, and drops his elbows on the bed, leaving his ass in the air.
"Oh wow." Sam was right: Blaine looks amazing like this. His cheeks are just so nice and round, and his legs are spread enough that his hole is just visible. "Can I touch?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
Mike just plans to rub his hands over Blaine's butt once or twice and then let Sam have at him. But he can't help it—he squeezes a little, he kneads a little. The hole is exposed, and it's so small, Mike is amazed again at the thought of Sam's cock going in there. But first, Sam's tongue! Holding the cheeks apart, Mike looks at Sam and asks, "Do you want to start?"
"Yeah!" Sam was starting to get…well, not worried, exactly, but it looked like Mike really wanted to fuck Blaine. For a minute, Sam had a really clear mental image of him doing it, in fact. The image was hot—of course—but he's glad Mike isn't really going to do it. He's glad he's the only one who's going to do it. He hopes the way he nudges Mike's hands off of Blaine and replaces them with his own doesn't seem possessive, even though it maybe is, just a little.
Sam's hands feel way different from Mike's. It's not because they're bigger—though they are a little, Blaine thinks—it's because they're more certain. Obviously Sam's touched him before and has a better idea what he likes, but it's not even just that. It's like…Mike isn't experimenting, exactly—this isn't his first time with a guy—but Blaine doesn't get the impression from him that he knows what he wants. He does get that impression from Sam.
Sam kneels behind Blaine and teasingly licks his balls. He keeps it up, very light, until Blaine moans his name all low. He sucks them then and gets Blaine all squirmy before he finally moves up to start licking open his hole.
God, Sam's so good with his mouth—like seriously, so fucking good—his tongue just totally working Blaine over. Blaine sort of forgets it's not just the two of them there until he hears Mike say, "God, Blaine, your moaning!" He opens his eyes and sees Mike standing over him, palming his cock.
"Hey, I thought I got to have that in my mouth."
Mike would almost be content to just keep watching Sam rim Blaine. He can't really see Sam's face, but the look on Blaine's—not to mention the noises he's making—make it obvious just how good it is. Still, between getting blown and not getting blown, Mike is naturally going to pick getting blown. Trying to disturb Blaine as little as possible, he lies in the center of the bed, then scoots forward until Blaine can reach.
Blaine is actually going to have a dick in each hole soon, something he never thought he'd get to try. It's already so good with one dick and one tongue—he can barely even imagine how amazing it's going to be when Sam starts fucking him. Sam is a very thorough rimmer, though, and Blaine doesn't want to make Mike come too soon. He licks more than he sucks, and when he does suck he does it gently.
Sam can't see much from his vantage point, and he can't hear a lot either beyond some muffled moans now and then, barely louder than the hum of the air conditioner. The feel of Blaine's ass, though—the cheeks so firm yet yielding under his fingers, the rim so tight around his tongue, yet gradually relaxing and opening to make room for his dick. And just the way Blaine is squirming under him, pushing back against his face, grinding his hard cock against the mattress—that alone would make this one of Sam's favorite things.
One of his favorite things, but not his absolute favorite. Rimming Blaine doesn't bring any relief to his own cock, which doesn't even have a mattress to rub against. He touches it now and then when he just can't help it, but mostly he waits until Blaine is ready to get fucked. And he knows Blaine is ready when he says, low but clear, "God, Sam, please."
Sam makes him wait just another minute before he stands up, smacks his butt, and suggests he gets on his hands and knees. Blaine does so while Sam steps out of the jock, and Mike shifts too, getting on his knees and leaning back a bit. While Sam is walking around the bed for the lube, Blaine sucks Mike's dick back into his mouth.
Blaine's legs are already spread pretty wide, but Sam nudges them just a little farther apart. He just likes to see Blaine really open for him. It makes Blaine look just desperate for his cock, especially when he pushes his ass back on Sam's fingers while he's coating his hole with lube. It's like he wants his ass filled as much as Sam wants to fill it.
Sam rubs his cock along the length of Blaine's crack before he even lets it poke at the hole. He really wants Blaine to be impatient for it. It seems to be working—Blaine is making frustrated-sounding little whimpers. But Sam is impatient too, and it's not too long before he can't wait any longer and just pops it in. It's just the tip so far, but just getting it in there is a huge relief. He really has missed this so much.
God, Blaine's missed Sam's dick so much—he never thought he'd get it again. He loves how it stretches him, how it's so big that Sam has to ease it in super slowly. It's frustrating too because he wants all of it already…but having no choice but to be patient makes it sort of better, somehow.
Mike can feel, right in his dick, the vibrations from Blaine's moaning. That's amazing all by itself, but it's not even the thing about the moaning that Mike likes most. It's just so hot that Blaine is getting fucked up the ass and he fucking loves it. Like, obviously Mike already knows that some guys like that, it's just not something he's witnessed up close before.
It's so hard to go slow when Sam just wants to slam into Blaine. He doesn't want to hurt him, though—that's what makes him hold back. That and the fact that Blaine is so fucking tight it probably wouldn't be possible to slam in yet even if he tried it. So he just inches into the snug, gripping channel, pulls back, inches in a tiny bit more than the last time, repeating until he's finally buried.
Ah, that's it, Blaine's thoroughly stuffed, a throbbing cock in each hole. He gasps—or rather, he tries to but can't really, and instead he swallows hard around Mike's dick, just making it throb all the harder. He realizes he's been so focused on Sam's dick in his ass that he's been giving Mike a subpar blowjob, which he intends to rectify. Mike's dick really is everything Tina told him—thick and heavy and tasty. He takes a minute to swirl his tongue around the head, then another to gently roll the balls around in his mouth. And then he closes his mouth around as much of the cock as he can and starts to bob and suck as hard as he can.
Mike has trouble keeping his eyelids from fluttering. He'd just let them shut if it weren't so hot watching Sam fuck Blaine, watching Sam watch his own dick disappearing into Blaine's ass with something like awe. Sam looks up for a second, makes eye contact, and says, "He's really good at that, right?" Mike can only nod in response. Without totally intending to, he holds Blaine's head and starts to gently cant into his mouth.
Blaine's not in control of the blowjob anymore, not with Mike fucking his mouth. He can't even use his hands—he needs them to keep from falling over, now that Sam is really fucking his ass. It's not like Blaine's ever wanted to be completely passive during sex, but something about just taking it from two guys at once is really doing it for him.
He might not like it if they were hurting him, but they're not. Mike's not being rough at all—not making him gag, not even pulling his hair. As for Sam, he is being what could objectively be called rough, probably, but only in the way he already knows Blaine likes it. He's nailing him just perfectly, in fact.
Mike notices he's thrusting into Blaine's mouth and he stops right away. And then Blaine makes this noise that sounds almost disappointed and that Mike's not sure what to make of. It takes Blaine actually taking his cock out of his mouth, looking up at him, and saying, "No, don't stop" for Mike to be sure, and God. He goes back to thrusting again, and he feels like he's doing it too hard, but Blaine doesn't gag and in fact he moans harder than ever, like nothing is better than taking two cocks at once. Blaine's so fucking slutty; Mike is completely done in. He feels his balls tighten, he feels his dick surge deep and shoot off right down Blaine's throat.
Blaine's really good at suppressing his gag reflex. The volume of Mike's cum and the force with which it hits the back of his throat would be too much for a lot of guys (and girls), but for Blaine it's just perfect. He downs it in a series of swallows before reluctantly letting Mike pull out of his mouth.
Mike sits back on his calves, looking totally blissed out—and no wonder. Sam's happy for him, and he's happy for himself. He's been holding back a little, worried about somehow making Blaine bite Mike's junk or something. Now he can totally fuck Blaine as hard as he likes to—as hard as they both like him to. He grips Blaine's hips tight and starts nailing him relentlessly.
Oh, Sam is really letting him have it now! Fuck, Blaine has missed this. Usually he squeezes a pillow or something, but Mike's in front of him still, so he squeezes Mike's forearms instead. Usually he bites the pillow he's squeezing, but he does have the presence of mind not to bite Mike. He tries to ask Mike to hand him a pillow, but he can't get words out, just some nonsensical Ah! Ah! Ah! sounds, corresponding with each time Sam slams into his prostate.
Sam's always thought the muffled sex noises Blaine liked to make into his pillow were hot. Hearing them unmuffled now is a thousand times hotter, though. He's not sure how long he can keep going before he comes.
Blaine's close, he's so fucking close. He's never had the cum fucked out of him without even touching his dick, but he feels like it might happen. If Sam can just keep going…
Sam keeps going. It takes all his willpower, but he'll be damned if he's going to let this end one second before it has to.
Blaine's throat is sore, his cries are getting quieter. They're quiet enough to hear Mike say, "Jesus, Blaine, that's so hot." And Blaine's not sure if it's the comment from Mike or a particularly well-placed thrust from Sam or (most likely) a combination of the two, but whatever it is he knows he's about to come. He opens his mouth wide for the scream that he feels about to come out, but he doesn't even manage to make any noise before a powerful orgasm takes over his entire body.
Blaine's gone quiet and still, and it worries Sam. He stops moving too and asks, "Baby?"
"No, no, no, don't stop!" Blaine manages before the scream comes out after all, just as his cum starts shooting out all over Mike's sheets.
Oh wow, Blaine is actually coming! Sam's not sure how, but he knows Blaine's orgasm scream, he knows the feel of those muscles clamping down on his dick. He keeps fucking him through it. Blaine goes on so long—longer than he ever has before—and Sam has to bite his lip to keep from letting go before Blaine is done. The second he feels Blaine start to relax is the exact second he can't hold it in anymore. His dick pulses and spurts, filling Blaine's narrow channel with warm jizz.
Blaine collapses with his head in Mike's lap; Sam collapses next to them.
Mike strokes Blaine's hair. "Wow. That was so…" He doesn't have an adequate word to finish the sentence with.
"Uh huh," Blaine agrees.
Mike wonders if this would be a good time to mention that he was planning to suck Blaine off. Probably not. He can't imagine that Blaine is up for any more after that. He keeps the thought to himself and strokes Sam's hair too.
Sam puts his arm around Blaine and pulls him close. He looks up at Mike and says, "Come down here and cuddle with us."
Mike laughs. "Thanks, but I'm good."
"No, come on!" Sam insists. "Cuddling after is the best part. I mean…not really, but it's is a really good part."
"No, really, I'm good." Mike liked to cuddle with Tina after, but he doesn't feel that way about these guys. They're his friends, but he doesn't want either of them as a boyfriend. He's pretty sure they do want each other as boyfriends though. "I think I'm gonna go…" Go what, sleep in the living room? No, forget it—he wants to give these guys some alone time, but the living room is hot as hell. At the risk of them thinking he's a germaphobe or something, he says, "I'm gonna go take a shower."
Once Blaine hears the water start, he says, "That's Mike's second shower tonight. I hope he's not dealing with internalized homophobia."
"I think he's just giving us some privacy," Sam says, nuzzling into Blaine's side. "I think he wants us to get together."
"But I mean. We just…"
"Yeah, but I mean together together. Like a couple."
"Oh. Why would Mike want that?"
"I dunno. Maybe he thinks we'd be adorable together." Sam could leave it at that, but he decides to just be honest instead. It's not like Blaine will hate him if he knows. "And maybe it's not just Mike who wants us to be a couple. Maybe it's me."
Blaine's not totally sure Sam's saying what it sounds like he's saying. "Maybe you want us to be a couple?"
"I mean not really maybe. I do, for sure. Obviously I won't force you—I mean, I don't know how I could even if I wanted to—but…" God, why is this so hard? When he asked out Quinn and Mercedes and Brittany he managed to just make a case for himself. Blaine is his best friend, it should be easier with him.
Wait, is that maybe why it's harder?
"You've never dated a guy before," Blaine points out.
"That's the last part of all this that I'm worried about."
"What's the first part you're worried about?"
"That you don't want to."
"That's what you're worried about? Of course I want to. I've wanted to for a long time. I told you…"
"You told me once that you had 'feelings.' But then you went back to Kurt, so I thought the feelings were gone."
"I went back to Kurt because I didn't think you wanted more. I never stopped wanting more. That's…it's maybe not the only reason that getting back with Kurt didn't work out, but a really big one. He could tell too."
"He could?"
"I didn't tell him who I was hung up on. And I definitely didn't tell him about the stuff we did when he and I were broken up."
"You could have. It's not like either of us was cheating on anyone."
"But I didn't want to out you. Especially since I didn't think you were really even bi."
"What do you mean you didn't think I was bi? I'm not a good enough actor to have been faking how much I liked doing stuff with you."
"I guess I thought you were just really horny. Or at best, I was your one exception."
"Okay, yeah, I was really horny…for you, because I'm super into you. And…I guess you are my one exception. I don't want to be in a couple with anyone except you. Is that a bad thing?"
Blaine strokes the arm Sam is holding around him. "No. It's not a bad thing at all, it's a very sweet thing."
"So…? Are we dating? Or, like, can we be?"
"I guess it's not really dating unless we go on an actual date. Tomorrow night, maybe? If it wouldn't be rude to Mike."
"It wouldn't!" Mike yells from behind the bathroom door. It's the first time Sam or Blaine realize the shower has stopped. They look at each other and laugh.
"Mike, come on back and sleep in your own bed!" Blaine yells. "Sam and I can sleep on the floor!"
Mike returns to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. "I think we've established that the bed has enough room for all of us. A relationship maybe not, but that's fine. You two make an adorable couple."