Sam was a big guy.
Not almost absurdly tall like Finn or muscled bulkily like Puck, but he was still tall and broad shouldered, body covered in toned, sleek muscle. It was almost possible to ignore that when they were goofing around, watching movies, reading comics or splitting a pizza at the food court. Ignoring Sam's body was for the best, especially when they were alone, because…Well, reasons.
So, he tried to limit his awareness of Sam as anything but his BFF and partner in nerd-dom and he thought he was doing a good job of it on that particular day…at least until one of Sam's big hands wrapped around his wrist.
Startled, Blaine looked up from his pizza to see that Sam had abandoned his relaxed slouch in favor of sitting up straight, shoulders squared and jaw set. His green eyes were narrowed as he gazed off at something behind Blaine.
"Sam," he asked, unsure, "what…."
"Just a sec, dude," Sam rumbled, eyes tracking to the side and Blaine watched him glare a guy out the main doors. Once the middle aged man had skulked off, Sam relaxed, releasing Blaine's arm.
"What was that?"
Sam seemed to take a moment to think of how to word things. "When I was working at Stallions, I learned how to spot certain…types of people. That dude was giving you a total 'Red-Alert-unwanted-bad-touching-is-about-to-happen' look."
WIP