A/N: Sorry for time, but I think you might forgive me when you realise that I saved this story from being ridiculous by excluding a random musical number. Yeah. I'm that awesome. An apology is also afforded to those of you eagerly anticipating (read: tolerating and mildly enjoying) the next chapter of my crossover fic, Dream Role. It's getting there. And, finally, on with the show...

I'm only shocked for a moment. I quickly regain my senses and do the only rational thing there is to do – hit Puck in the face. He falls back and I bark at him to "stay there".

Blaine starts to edge away, but I'm too fast. Instead of hitting him (because, I'm still a bit worried about breaking him, and I only hit Puck because he can't hit me back without going to juvie), I grab his right ear. Not really very menacing, I know, but Blaine yelps and I pull him all the way back to the choir room.

I shove the door open, and Mr. Schue is looking at me funny as I all of a sudden throw Blaine to the floor. He lands with a thud, and he groans, though I can tell it's only to gain sympathy.

This method, of course, works, as Kurt rushes over and coos at him. "Are you hurt? Is everything okay?" Kurt looks up and shoots me with a glare, which my face responds to by softening. I don't want him to get hurt, and suddenly I'm weighing up whether this was such a great idea in my mind.

"Yeah, nothing's broken," Blaine replies, happy that Kurt's still on his arm.

"Yet," I finish for him smoothly, and Kurt looks a little confused. "Tell him."

Blaine smiles smugly, and crosses his arms. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replies, feigning innocence.

"Yes you do. And if you don't start talking, I'm going to do to you what I did to Puck," I say, and that wipes the smile off of his face very quickly.

He still, however, shakes his head. "I'm not saying a word."

"Blaine, what did you do?" Kurt asks, and at this moment, I know that Blaine doesn't love him. Anyone who loved Kurt would have caved at the sound of his voice in pain like that.

"I didn't do anything," he says smoothly, but Kurt's not buying it.

"Blaine, just tell me." Blaine shakes his head again, and I resist the urge to whack him on the back of it.

Kurt stands up and looks at him accusingly with those eyes of his. "So there is something. Just tell me, Blaine. If you're not guilty, you have nothing to hide, right?"

At this point, Blaine makes a very sheepish face, but thankfully, Kurt has that strong resolve I lo-appreciate, and he just stares him down, until Blaine mumbles something non-committedly.

"What was that?"

"I… um… I might have…" there goes the silky charisma.

"Just spit it out, Blaine," I say unkindly.

"I kissed Puck, okay?" He shouts, exasperatedly, more at me than at Kurt. "Happy?" He turns back, and realizes his mistake. Kurt's face looks drawn and he seems more vulnerable and raw than I've ever seen him before. He presses his lips together tightly, and I almost think he's going to say something witty and snappy. Instead, he just bolts from the room. "Kurt, wait!" Blaine calls, but I hold him back.

"Don't you think you've done enough?" I say unkindly, and run off to comfort Kurt.

Blaine turned to the New Directions, and they all returned his look with disgust. "I think you've overstayed your welcome, Blaine," Mr. Schuester said, and Blaine nodded.

"When he… when he calms down… tell him I'm sorry, okay?"

"Just get out of here, hobbit," Mercedes spat at him.

Finn stood up and walked over to him. "We're not your messengers. Let's get this clear – you've just hurt someone who means a lot to me. And that doesn't go by unpunished. If you ever show your face around here again, I'll make sure that it's rearranged."

Blaine gulped, nodded, and ran out of the room – right into Puck, who was walking back in at the same moment. He reached down, and grabbed Puck's hand. "Call me?" Puck narrowed his eyes, and nodded.

"I have your number." He didn't sound loving, or affectionate – he sounded like he wanted to get rid of Blaine as soon as possible. Blaine left, and Puck noticed that everyone was staring at him, disapprovingly. "What?"

"Don't what us, Puckerman," Lauren spat, seething.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Zizes," he spat back, with equal force, even though they were all plainly aware of the shiner on his face.

"Yes you are. Don't be stupid. If you were like, gay or something, you could just tell us," she replied, this time a bit gentler, but still as commanding as ever.

"I'm not gay." It looked like Santana was about to but in, but he continued. "I'm not gay, and I'm not bi or whatever either. I didn't even like kissing Blaine."

"Then why did you do it in the first place?" Tina piped up. They all ignored their instant shock at her saying anything – Tina usually kept her thoughts to herself – and focused on Puck.

"Because… well… it was Finn's idea. Ask him."

Everyone turned to look at Finn, who stood up, and moved to the front of the room. "I think you should all know the truth," he started. "I never thought that Kurt was happy with Blaine, so I figured I'd have to break them up somehow."

"And since you're such a homophobe, you recruited my boyfriend to kiss the Hogwarts reject?" Lauren asked, obviously displeased.

"Well, not because I'm a homophobe, but because it had to be believable. Why would I make out with my stepbrother's boyfriend? Puck has a history. And guns."

They all nodded, satisfied with this answer.

"There's another thing as well."

"You want us to help you set Kurt up with the CAA frequenter, don't you?" Santana asked.

"CAA?" Brittany asked.

"Chap-Stick Addicts Anonymous," Santana replied quickly and off hand. "It was kind of obvious."

"Yeah, I mean nobody would just pick out a song for their friend because they cared," Tina said. "Sam obviously only asked us to sing because he was too afraid of what would happen if he did."

"So, it's agreed then? We're all in this to help Sam and Kurt get together?" Finn asked, happy they all seemed to be on board.

Everyone nodded, and Mr. Schue clapped a hand on Finn's shoulder. "Right, guys, whilst I'm happy you're all trying to get Sam and Kurt together and everything, maybe we should agree that nobody tells? And what are you going to do about Puck having kissed Blaine?"

"We'll just say I went off the rails a bit, but Lauren's reclaimed her stake on my balls." Everyone looked at Puck with an air of incredulity. "Or, we could just say I took too many 'roids that day, and I got a bit high, and Blaine was putting out."

"That sounds plausible," Artie said.

"And, on that note, I think it's time we called it a day," Mr. Schue said. "Far too much drama going on in this club."

I was crushed.

Blaine, absolutely perfect, sweet, innocent Blaine, cheated on me. With Puck. Not that I blame him about the Puck part, but still, he cheated? That wasn't fair.

I was about to start bawling my eyes out in a cubicle in the men's bathroom when I heard a knock on the door. "Kurt?" Sam's voice asked from outside, and I couldn't help but be relieved that it wasn't Blaine or Finn.

"Yeah, I'm in here." I reached over and unlocked the cubicle.

"Good, you haven't cried yet. Not crying's good, because he doesn't deserve a tear from you." He looked me right in the eyes. "I'm taking you home. You're in no state to drive, and you can always get a lift from Finn in the morning." I nodded, and, in a state somewhere between lethargy and consciousness, allowed Sam to drag me by the arm to his car.

The drive home was short, as I didn't live far from my school. I fumbled with my keys, and opened the front door clumsily.

"We're watching a movie. Where are your DVDs?" I lazily pointed to a couple of boxes full of discs – an eclectic mix of romantic comedies and musicals for me, box sets of hunting shows that I'd bought Dad for Father's Days and Birthdays over the years, and horror films and video games that Finn had thrown into the mix. Carole works so much, that she's never really had time for movies, but she does seem to love the ones I have, so it all works out okay.

Sam rifled through the films until he found the one that he wanted – My Best Friend's Wedding.

"Honestly, Sam? My Best Friend's Wedding? I thought you were a little bit more classy than that." Those were the first words that I'd said in a little while, and I was quite proud that they were appropriately snarky, rather than something along the lines of "Blaine sucks! I hate him soooo much… when should I call him?" There was something about Sam that made me just want to forget that there was anything to be upset about and fall into a paradise of cheesy rom-coms.

"I figure it's a good movie, and you'll like it because it's all romantic and stuff. C'mon, we'll pop it in, just sit, and watch. We don't have to talk, and you don't have to do anything, just watch the movie. You'll probably feel better. I promise."

"You promise that something will probably happen? I tremble at your certainty."

"Just trust me, okay? You won't regret it."

And I did. I nodded, sat down on the couch, and Sam got the movie ready (I was quite impressed, to be honest – it took skill to work out how to make our home theatre system work), and whilst he did so, bending over to give me a perfect view of his assets, and if I wasn't so sure he was straight, I would probably have assumed that he'd done it on purpose.

He walked back to the couch, and settled next to me.

That was what I liked about Sam – unlike the other guys, he didn't treat me like he was going to get the plague just by being near me.

Halfway through the movie, I began to feel sleepy, and my head drooped to the side, dragging me down onto Sam. I was drowsy, and I was about to sit back up, when I felt his arm slink around my shoulders and gently secure me in place. A little bit confused, but altogether too tired to care, I let myself fall asleep.

And maybe, just maybe, after about ten minutes, Sam might have done the same thing.

And to this day, my father still denies finding the two of us there, on the couch, asleep on each other. Why he didn't beat Sam to a pulp at that very moment, I don't know for certain.

Although, I do have a funny feeling that it might have been because, snuggled into Sam's side, I might just have been smiling.