If there was any day for Blaine to have politely declined Kurt's invite to come over and watch Project Runway, it probably should've been tonight. Normally, he loved sitting there and listening to Kurt snipe at the screen and laughing at the sassy designers with him. But tonight was something different entirely, for as soon as he pulled into the Hummel's driveway, rain pouring down heavily to match the crackling thunder above, another car sat in the driveway ahead of his.

A car he hadn't seen or been in for almost two years now.

And as he continues to walk towards the house, dread slowly beginning to creep up onto him as he realizes exactly what this means, the stranger things is that he isn't exactly sure how he feels about it.

Kurt takes his coat and hangs it up, making a comment about how fabulously knock-off chic it is and he can appreciate good bargain shopping at it's best. Blaine just smiles, and nods hello to Kurt's dad before giving a wave to Finn's mom. Before he can get out any thing else, Kurt's got him by the hand, tugging him down the stairs and muttering something about not being able to use the TV for a while because of some football game that's on, so he TiVoed their show.

It's not until Blaine's feet are firmly on the ground and Finn is talking to him that he understands what's happening, because all he can do is look past Finn and see into the dark hazy blue eyes that are steeling into him, so many more shadows hidden in them than he can last remember. The silence between the two of them is echoing, slowly turning from simply coincidentally awkward into almost unbearably tense.

Finn clears his throat, making a comment about the game to Blaine, and for the first time in what feels like hours, Blaine pulls his eyes off of the blonde, truly beginning to understand how this night is going to be. He sinks on to the couch next to Kurt, no longer able to remember what Finn asked him only moment ago. In all honesty, though, none of that matters. He can still feel Sam's eyes on him, and he knows it. He knows it and he feels it for every single minute that he forces himself to stare blankly at the screen in front of him.

So it isn't until the bang of thunder from above, accompanied by a crash and utter blackness around them that Blaine takes his eyes off the screen, unable to see anything at all.

"Shit," Finn mutters, pulling out his cell phone, light dim and not helping in the slightest bit. Mr. Hummel's calling down the stairs to them, and there's movement around him, and Blaine's wondering if maybe this is all just a dream, because he feels like he can't feel or see or understand anything that's happening around him. But before he realizes it, the room is silent, and still pitch black and all that's lingering in the air apart from the humming sound of the electricity fading out from everything is the sense of scowling darkness directed at him from across the room.

Blaine simply clears his throat, wondering when Kurt and Finn are going to come back with those flashlights, because it's starting to feel like it'd be an appropriate time for him to leave. He would right now if he could, if he knew where Kurt was, at least, but power outages are really no excuses for rudeness and…

"So I guess you have a new boyfriend."

The voice is angry and bitter as it spits the words out, each of them like they're awful and filled with venom. Blaine splutters for a moment, temporarily taken back by the statement.


Sam's chuckling by now, still heavy with that bitter tone to it, as he hisses "I said I guess you have a new boyfriend."

And here it came. Everything he'd been hoping to avoid from the start. Blaine sighed, in a desperate attempt to keep the hurricane of unleashed emotions at bay before he opened his mouth to speak. "I never had an old boyfriend," he started quietly, to which Sam scoffed at. "And I don't have a new one either." The way his voice sounded, so small, it was painful to listen to and yet no surprise. Because he's been here before. In this exact same situation. With this exact same person. It was only two years earlier. "I guess you date girls now," Blaine throws in for good measure, not trying to sound petty.

There's a small pause before he hears Sam sigh softly. "You know that's not true."

"Could've fooled me," Blaine lets slip before he even has the chance to stop himself, any chance of keeping this conversation between him and Sam civil now gone.

"God, you really haven't changed a bit, have you Blaine?" Sam starts, and it's dark in the room, but Blaine can already see the look on his face. It's dark, but Blaine would know the look on Sam's face anywhere. Because Blaine knows Sam. Sometimes he thinks he knows Sam better than he knows himself. "Did it even bother you when I left Dalton? When we fought, were you upset? Were you mad that I was mad at you? Or did none of it matter to you, because you could just focus on yourself?"

He can already see it in his head – Sam's blonde hair hanging messily in his face before he pushes in back with frustration, his eyes darkening with every word, his mouth pinched tight as his emotions flood to the surface and he tries to hide them. "Sam…" Blaine starts, his own voice becoming tight.

A hush falls over the two of them, lasting longer than any silence between them has lasted today. "Sam," he repeats.

Sam takes a deep breath, before finally speaking up, his voice more subdued than Blaine has ever heard. "All I wanted was you, Blaine. All I've ever wanted was you. Ever since you told me to be the Malfoy to your Potter, or whatever it was you said that day. I was in love. And you couldn't get that. When you didn't follow - didn't come after me after our huge fight… I was sure it was over. And I was right."

Blaine's heart has stopped in his chest, leaping into his throat where it's stuck, making it impossible for him to even take a breath. Blaine wants to say something – something that will end this all right now – but he knows that he'll just screw it up. History tends to repeat itself… The fight they had, it seemed so long ago while still seeming like it was yesterday. He remembered things seeming tense between them for a couple of weeks, and then Sam just kind of – kind of exploded. He hadn't been sure why, he had been just asked on a date by one of the senior Warblers…

Oh. Oh shit.

He was across the room before he could even understand what was happening, sinking onto the couch just as he felt his knees give out. With only his knee pressed against Sam's, he could already feel everything igniting inside of his bones, like his body knew what was happening and was reacting sooner than he was.

Like his body knew all along that he needed Sam, and he just hadn't realized it until now.

As he fumbles around in the darkness, reaching over to entangle his hand with the blonde's, he feels the tremble as soon as they touch, and it brings a sad smile to his face. "I didn't know," he whispers. "I never knew. If I did…" Just like before, he can't see anything in the room, but his hands find their way to Sam's face, cupping it and pulling it closer. "If I did," he says again, with more emphasis. "I'd have never let you go."

The laugh that comes from Sam is choked by the lingering remnants of the tears that must've come before it, and as he throws himself at Blaine, the force throws them back against the couch cushions, lips and hands and fingers and everything everywhere, two long years of denied desires finally fulfilled.

A minute or so passes before Blaine realizes they're not alone anymore. In fact, the lights are back on and someone's clearing their throat. Slowly, regretfully, Blaine pulls away from Sam, feeling almost like if he does, that it's the last time he'll ever have with him. Kurt's standing there, a flashlight hanging loosely in his hand as he grins at the two of them.

"Finally," he says. "I thought I was going to have to lock the two of you in closet at some point and just say 'have at it'…" When neither of them say anything, Kurt frowns. "Well, don't let me interrupt any longer. Happy humping…" Kurt says with a swivel of his hips and a twirl of the flashlight as he walks out.

Blaine can tell he's blushing, the warmth creeping up on the back of his neck, just as a hand comfortably finds it's way to place itself there. Sam's sitting there, smiling at Kurt with rosy cheeks and mussed blonde hair. His lips are pulled into the smile that Blaine knows so well, so much better than anything else in the world, and all he wants to do right now is know that he'll never have to go another day without seeing that glowing smile and memorize the feel of those lips against his skin.

And that's exactly what he does.