Sam's lips had always been distracting, plump and flushed a natural, rosy shade, but suddenly Blaine felt like he couldn't help but look at them. Whenever Sam spoke, it was like his eyes were drawn there by some sort of tractor beam he was helpless against.

During the middle of a ramble about his suspicions that Coach Sylvester was attempting to slowly drive Finn insane by using made up words in everyday conversation, Sam pulled out a gold tube of lip balm and applied it. Blaine's eyes bulged as he saw a faint stain of color appear on Sam's mouth and he choked, "Are you using tinted lip balm?"

Blushing, Sam froze, then shrugged. "Brittany gave it to me. I know, it's so weird, but this stuff is awesome! Here, feel."

Before Blaine knew what was happening, Sam snatched up his hand and placed his fingers against those pink, stained lips. The skin under his fingers was so soft, like dewy rose petals, lush and warm….

"And it's cherry!" Sam said, speaking before Blaine even had the chance to pull his hand away, so he felt those lips move.

"Very nice," he croaked, "Soft."

And then he fled, knowing he had to put a little distance between himself and the oblivious object of his less than PG thoughts.

He knew he shouldn't think about Sam that way, he was his best friend, but oh God….

It wasn't like his attraction to Sam was merely physical. No, the emotional connection, the friendship had been forged before Blaine had had more than an offhand thought of how attractive Sam was. Then one day, while they were laughing over something silly, a comic book or movie, Sam had smiled and the sudden rush of affection and lust hit Blaine like a rock to the head.

It only got worse as time went on.

Those lips…

In his weaker moments, he can't help but imagine how Sam's lips would look and feel wrapped around his cock. Red and swollen from kissing perhaps, stretched wide and tight around him, cheeks hollowed as he bobbed up and down, tongue swirling around the sensitive head….

Alone in his room, Blaine closed his eyes, letting his imagination run wild as his hand slipped into his pants to wrap around his dick.

Fucking his fist, he imagined the warmth and wetness Sam's mouth, the obscene slurping sounds that would result from an enthusiastic blow job. He could picture Sam's eyes looking up at him as he would pull away, licking stripe up the underside of his length before swallowing him whole, which would push Blaine right over the edge….

Gasping, Blaine came hard, hand continuing to stroke himself through the shuddering aftermath of an intense orgasm. Flopping back on his bed, he slung his free arm over his eyes and cursed himself internally.

For the first time in almost 2 years, he'd brought himself off thinking of someone other than Kurt. Not only that, he had done so thinking about his straight best friend.

That was going to make things a little awkward.