Disclaimer: I have no affiliation to Glee or its characters. This is fiction pure and simple.

Waiting for Forever

"You didn't have to come over just because I didn't want to want to hang out." Blaine muttered flipping through the channels.

"Dude! It is Saturday night. What kind of bro would I be if I left you at home to moon over Kurt?"

"I'm not mooning over Kurt! Who even uses that word?"

"Then what's with the hair? Don't get me wrong I like it when it's more human than helmet but you are usually gelled nine ways to Sunday." Blaine recoiled as Sam's hand slid through his hair to prove his point making every hair on his body stand on end.

"I just can't - I think I'm still hangover from last weekend." Blaine lamely excused, flushing when Sam laughed out loud.

All week he'd been teased by the entire Glee club about how he brought the house down at Sugar Motta's house party. Even Mr. Shue had gotten in on the action making the 'Evils of Vices' this week's lesson. What Blaine needed was a 'stop crushing on your best friend' lesson and the sooner he got it the better because this thing he had for Sam was getting way out of hand.

Frustrated, he banged the remote against his head trying to push back the memories that danced behind his eyes. As always they tunneled through evoking shame, so much shame.

He'd left home with the best of intentions last Saturday. And a plan, a solid plan: one drink, one song then head home to practice his audition piece. Then Brittany had crawled into Sam's lap and began the filthiest lap dance in history, not caring that Blaine was wedged in right next to them. Close enough to hear the smacking when they started to kiss. Close enough to catch a glimpse of Sam's cock, ruddy, seeping, as her hand twisted into the open fly of his jeans. Close enough for Sam's hand to reach out and grab his hip, frantically edging up his thigh.

Blaine had scrambled over the back of the couch and headed for the makeshift bar. His second rum and coke couldn't erase the feeling of that hand on him. The third and fourth made him more reckless and he stopped pretending not to watch them. He was sure they were fucking in the corner by the bump and grind of Brittany's hips but he couldn't look away. Maybe if he watched them have sex even with jealousy and burning arousal churning his gut, he would finally get it. Sam was straight. He would never have him. And he would have stood there for as long as it took but Tina dragged him away with a sympathetic look and handed him the microphone. It all went downhill from there. To here.

Here where Sam met his gaze for a second before ducking his head and Blaine's heart started to thump because there was a chance that Tina had blabbed his secret. Here where it was suddenly too quiet in his bedroom, the awkward living breathing silence confirming his assumption.

Sam knows. He knows and you are going to get the let's just be friends speech. God! He was going to kill fucking Tina Cohen Chang. Okay. Calm down. Be normal. He reminded himself. Be normal until he leaves for his plans with Brittany at Breadstix or anywhere else on the planet that would require their ridiculously blond heads to touch.

When the tall lithe body suddenly shifted plopping in front of him, Blaine tugged his knees closer to his chest bracing for the blow he was sure was coming. Giving a longing look to the open doorway, he fought panic, his tense fingers digging into unyielding plastic until Sam tore the remote out of his hands thumbing the buttons absently in his.

Blaine wanted to yell at him to stop touching him and hugging him and just breathing because every move Sam made was making things worse instead of better. If you thought about it, this whole thing was Sam's fault. Really. The abs and the lips and…great now he sounded like a rapist.

"Blaine?"

"Sam, you don't have to babysit me. Don't you have a date with Britt?" If he smiled a little too bright when he said her name who would know?

"I want to be here."

"You can go." Blaine insisted.

With a huff of exasperation, Sam dropped the remote and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not saying this right."

"Saying what?" Blaine tilted his head staring with fake interest at his best friend. By the dim flickering of the TV he could barely make out the exact expression on Sam's face.

Sam cleared his throat and gave him a nervous smile. Now Blaine was anxious for him to get on with it so he could reassure him that he knew that nothing could ever happen between them. He knew Sam was straight, he valued their friendship, would never do anything to jeopardize it, blah blah blah...problem solved.

"I know that you've been avoiding me and I am sorry." Sam rushed out.

Sorry? For what? Blaine's eyebrows crawled up his forehead. "I don't understand."

Sam was quiet for so long Blaine thought he'd reconsidered and he was torn between curiosity and relief. After a week of hiding from him he missed his goofy smile and crazy impressions.

"Less than 5% of high school relationships end in marriage." Sam blurted.

What?

"And I know I shouldn't be getting my information from Brittany or verifying it on Cracked but I also know for a fact that the chances of long distance relationships working out are even slimmer. Look at me and Mercedes…"

Blaine frowned trying to follow his train of thought. Then it hit him. No! Hell no! "Oh god! Don't tell me you are getting hitched for real this time?"

"NO!"

"Then what are you talking about?"

Making an impatient sound, Sam raised then dropped his arms. "You're going to New York." He stated. "I can't come with you."

"Oh Sam." Tension left Blaine's body and he scooted close enough to bump their knees. His friend was having another of his freakouts. This he could handle. Over the past year he'd become an expert at calming Sam down. He knew when to talk him up or talk him down as needed, ending up as a kind of life coach, cheerleader, best friend and occasional sidekick. "New York's not at the other end of the earth and it's not the middle ages. We will still see each other all the time. There's video chat and text and email and freaking Facebook…"

"You're not getting it." Sam interrupted.

"I can also write you an actual letter on like paper with stamps and everything." Blaine quipped trying to make him smile. His grin slipped when Sam merely groaned and dropped his face to his hands. Before he could ask what was up, Sam popped back up and leveled him with sad eyes brimming with meaning and intensity. Something was really wrong.

"I am screwing this up like I do everything else." Sam muttered before pushing on. "You make me happy, you know, when I'm with you I don't feel slow or…"

"You are not slow."

"Just listen. Please."

Blaine knew he was nodding, the same way he knew he was somehow still breathing but he could feel neither.

"I want to be near you all the time. At first I thought it was because you were my friend – best friend –" He amended.

Blaine's breath caught. His heart pounded in his chest doing the happiest of happy dances but his head insisted, this was a dream, he was dreaming. He had to be. But the furtive pinch he landed on his thigh fucking hurt as Sam continued breaking into his thoughts.

"Then you smiled at me one day and everything changed. I wanted to to-uch you." His voice broke a little. "I thought it was a fluke and the feeling would go away and I don't know if this means that I'm gay or what I should do about Britt or Kurt? Do I come out now? How do I tell my parents? And I shouldn't have looked at that website. So much thrusting. Damn Puckerman! I don't really want to think that you may not lo-like me the same way. Just cause you're gay doesn't mean you are attracted to every man..."

Alarmed by his tangent into hysteria Blaine reached out and rubbed his knee reassuringly and he calmed. Took a deep breath. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have touched you that night. Usually I think about doing it but I don't act on it but you were right there and I could smell your cologne, see your face…I have never been that turned on…"

"You touched me on purpose?" Blaine reeled, his world imploding.

"I thought you knew and that's why you drank – everything. I wanted to come after you but Britt was sitting - " He gestured at his crotch "on me and I didn't know what to say."

"Usually? What do you mean usually?"

Sam slanted him a knowing look bringing months of what he'd thought of as platonic touching into question.

"What are you saying? Exactly." Blaine pushed not wanting to jump on him without getting an actual verbal green light.

"I have feelings for you. I think I might even love you except I have been in love before and it didn't feel like this. This is more and I am losing it because you are leaving and I still need more time." The minor pause was not long enough for Blaine to think. "You deserve to be with someone as amazing as you are and I want to be with you more than anything but I don't know how to be gay. I'm not good enough for you now but I will get better. Smarter." He gave a rueful grin. "Gayer. In 10 years when you've won several Tonys and are the star of Broadway. I will be someone you can be proud to be seen with."

Blaine would be lying if he said he'd never pictured this moment. In fact he'd had several elaborate dreams in which Sam declared his love for him. In one he had been in full body armor riding a horse – serves him right for falling asleep re-watching Merlin - in none of them was he ever rendered speechless. Or found himself more ashamed of his crush on Sam because this was not the fanciful declaration from his fantasies. Sam was talking about forever. It was romantic as hell and absolutely terrifying.

"I will only strip for you if you want and I can get therapy, deal with my body dys – dyspho-"

"Dysmorphia."

"Yeah that. Don't write me off." He looked away again murmuring. "I just need some time to get right."

When Sam brushed a callused thumb across his cheek he realized that he was crying. "Sam. Sammy." Blaine surged to his knees cupping his gorgeous face waiting until Sam met his eyes. "There is nothing wrong with you." Even as Sam gave him a small smile he knew he didn't believe him so he zeroed in on the most important thing. "Ten years from today?"

Those perfect lips bloomed into a genuine smile. "Yes. Or from graduation. You choose."

"So I do have a choice?"

"Of course. I'm not going to force you into being with me…I had a proper speech but the words got jumbled in my head…I wrote some of it down." Sam dug through the pockets of his jeans dragging a crumpled piece of paper into the light. "Son of a bitch." He muttered to himself, squinting at the squiggly lines as he flattened the list on his knee. "Sorry, my handwriting is terrible. Principle Figgins was coming and I spilled my soda…"

Blaine's smile got bigger the more he struggled to explain. This was better than any perfect declaration of love he had envisioned in his dreams.

The kiss caught Sam by surprise and he paused sucked in his breath then pushed forward meeting him halfway with a desperate hunger. His big hand slid into dark curls gripping a handful, and tilting Blaine's head, slashing his mouth over his. Those lips. Were. Absolute heaven. They crashed to the carpet in a moaning, grinding panting pile. Sam covering him with his body, greedy kisses getting a little sloppy because neither of them could stop smiling or shaking or fucking smiling.

Breathless with desire Blaine licked down the powerful cord of Sam's neck reveling in his needy moans. Desperate to assuage the fire stoking higher in his groin he shoved up his T-shirt stroking his hard abdomen. The "God. Blaine stop." went unheard.

"Blaine" Sam grabbed his hands pinning them over his head. Their gazes locked. He took comfort in the fact Sam was breathing as hard as he was. Harder. The flex of hard hands on his wrists send a shiver down his spine eliciting a new feeling that he wouldn't mind exploring until Sam rolled off of him, crashing still breathless by his side. He chuckled. "Do I really have to wait years to do that again?"

"We have to last." Sam grumbled rewarding him with a kiss anyway. "If we get together as adults we are more likely to stay together."

For Sam it was that simple. He was giving them the best chance, the only way he knew how. Blaine twisted, his forehead meeting the cool curve of his friend's neck and he inhaled dragging the heady scent into his nostrils letting it fill his lungs.

"I pick today." He whispered lips brushing his neck. Committing to everything.

"Okay." Sam sighed leaning into his touch. "I like you like this." He mumbled.

"Like what?"

"Fuzzy. Warm." Sam's hands run through his hair, scraped down his chin before tracing the exposed skin on his lower abdomen. Blaine let out a tiny gasp before clamping his lips shut. The maddening circles incredibly intimate in the dimly lit room. Side by side, Sam scooted closer with a lazy smile tangling their denim-clad legs, his warm hand sliding over Blaine's hip, lingering at the small of his back then stroking up his spine.

Letting out another shaky breath, Blaine peeped up at his face arrested by the sheer contentment revealed there. Disappointed he berated his overeager cock. This is not what this night was about. As much as he wanted the lips and the hands and torrid exultant fumbling, getting the quiet and the safe and the love was even better.

Minutes passed in amiable silence. At the first snort, Blaine jerked then suppressed a giggle as Sam started snoring. Who knew such a pretty mouth would make such an ugly sound? Adjusting the arm that was hanging limp on his waist, Blaine flipped onto his back resting his head on a firm shoulder. The promises uttered over the last hour hitting him all at once.

Exhilarated panic swept through him lifting him to great heights and tossing him to low lows.

When he woke up this morning, his only desire was to survive the transition from high school to college intact, now he stood on the precipice of love. Scary forever love.

A year ago this straighter than gay man-boy was not what he envisioned for his life. A day ago he paced his room going through the ritual of talking himself out of his ridiculous crush. An hour ago he'd kissed him without giving Kurt a second thought even though he wanted a second chance with him. God! Kurt! Okay technically he wasn't cheating because they were broken up.

Confused, he fought the urge to wake Sam up and confirm the parameters of their 'deal'. Could they both see other people or were they in a ten-year holding pattern? Why did the thought of Sam with anyone else make him want to throw up? What were they doing? This was completely insane. Insanely romantic but still crazy.

Except it was Sam, his Sam. Big smile, soft heart Sam. Sam needed looking after, he needed someone who understood him and loved him completely even when he didn't love himself. Blaine could do that; he was already half in love with him and he could think of nothing better than a lifetime spent with this boy, loving and being loved by him.

"Goodnight Sammy." He whispered brushing a soft kiss on his cheek, starting a ritual that would become just theirs for years to come.

This story had been loitering in my archives for close to a month, which is when my love for Glee kicked into high gear with the Blam! bromance. Finally it is written and I can return to my regular fandom. It is complete for now but I will add other chapters at a later date chronicling every year approaching their 'deadline'. Thanks for reading.