Archive of Our Own

2010

It only takes a moment. A boy, a staircase, a smile. A hand in his.

Kurt knows.

2011

As it often is when the world goes to hell, it’s raining on the day that Blaine discovers the name of his soulmate. Not just a drizzle either, but the kind of drenching downpour typically only seen during the dramatic climax of Kurt’s favorite rom-coms.

Kurt didn’t even know that Blaine had registered. It was clear that something was up, the dreamy-eyed way Blaine has been zoning out lately, the flustered pink in his cheeks when Kurt brings him back to the world of the living. Kurt thought that…

Well, clearly, it was foolish what he thought. Because Blaine is standing on his front porch, soaked to the skin and breathing hard, as if he’s run all the way from his own house, clutching a crumpled-up paper in his hand. His knuckles are white, and his face the very picture of heartbreak.

Kurt opens his mouth to say…well, something, anyway, starting with “Come in, let me get you a towel,” but Blaine is clearly beyond pleasantries.

“It’s Karofsky,” he says. Kurt can only look at him blankly. “My soulmate,” says Blaine, shaking the fist he has clamped around that poor, tattered paper. “It’s Dave Karofsky.”

His voice is simultaneously choked-up and breathless. It’s clearly a fight to get any sound out at all. His eyes are wide and entreating, as if he’s hoping Kurt will help him make sense of this.

Kurt can’t. It’s – god, it must be some sort of sick joke. He thinks he might actually throw up. He sags against the doorframe.

“I – that’s – it must be a mistake,” he chokes out.

“You think so?” says Blaine, devastating hope starting to bloom in his eyes.

No. Kurt doesn’t. The soulmate registry doesn’t make mistakes. They boast an accuracy rate of greater than 99.9%. Their fingerprint-matching technology rivals the FBI’s. Still, it’s more plausible than the idea that Blaine’s soulmate actually turned out to be the closeted bully that drove Kurt out of school.

It’s supposed to be –

He pushes that thought brutally away.

“Did you call them to verify?”

Blaine shakes his head.

“No, I just – I came here. I didn’t…” He trails off. He looks lost. He’s got tendrils of hair drooping sadly over his forehead, dripping rainwater down the curve of his cheek.

Kurt breathes in, gets control of himself, straightens his spine.

“Let’s get you inside,” he says with authority that he doesn’t feel. “You must be freezing.”

Blaine nods absently and lets Kurt steer him through the door.

Kurt sets him up in the bathroom with a fluffy towel and a set of Kurt’s warmest work-out clothes to change into. It’s a good thing that Blaine has several back-up uniform sets in his closet, because this one won’t be wearable any time soon.

Kurt dashes to the kitchen to start a pot of tea – something gingery and soothing, Blaine’s favorite. He retrieves a bag of Oreos from Finn’s not-so-secret stash and arranges them in an attractive array on their best serving platter. The tea kettle whistles, and Kurt pours the steaming water into the pot to steep. He adds a generous dollop of honey.

Still, Blaine hasn’t returned.

Kurt carefully transfers everything onto a tray and carries it into the living room. He fluffs the couch pillows and locates a warm blanket. He sits down to wait.

Unbidden, an image pops up in his mind. Karofsky, pushing Blaine against a chain-link fence. Blaine, looking up at him through his long lashes, coy smile at his lips. Karofsky, grinning his crooked, clumsy grin, leaning in for –

That’s what Kurt can do. He can figure out what number they need to call to straighten this mess out. He jumps up and runs to his room to grab his laptop. He stops for a moment to listen at the bathroom door. He hears nothing but the rustle of fabric smoothing over skin. Blaine must almost be done. Kurt hurries back down to the living room and powers up his laptop.

“You made tea.”

Kurt turns around. Blaine is stopped in the middle of the staircase, leaning against the railing. His hair is damp and softly curling, already rebelling against the style Blaine has tried to impose on it through sheer force of will. Kurt’s clothes don’t fit him the right way, slightly bunched at the ankle and strained at the shoulders. On Blaine, whose tailoring is usually so precise, it only serves to heighten the lingering sense of bewilderment that has his eyes stuck unnaturally wide.

“And cookies,” says Kurt, sweeping his hand grandly toward the tray on the coffee table.

“It smells delicious,” says Blaine. He smiles gratefully and continues down the stairs. He perches neatly on the couch cushion next to Kurt.

“I got you a blanket, if you’re cold,” says Kurt.

“I’m okay, now that I’m dry. But thank you.”

Kurt hastens to pour them each a mug. Blaine cradles his carefully in his hands, but he doesn’t take a sip. The room is silent but for the sound of the driving rain against the glass. Kurt reaches for a cookie.

“We should call the registry,” he says, finally. “There might have been a mix-up in the system, or they might have printed the wrong name in your certification letter, or – you know, Karofsky can’t be that uncommon of a name, it might be some guy in – in Poland, or wherever, you never know.”

Blaine nods, bolstered.

“You’re right. Of course you’re right. The registry isn’t infallible.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

“Do you have the number? The letter they sent me got a little wet.”

It’s the understatement of the century, of course, but Kurt doesn’t say anything. He turns to his computer.

Blaine sips at his tea.

The website isn’t particularly user-friendly, but it does belong to a government agency after all. It takes a bit of experimental clicking around to get on the right track.

Blaine picks up an Oreo. He dunks it in his tea.

“Here it is! The customer service hotline for the Lima, Ohio branch of the United States Soulmate Registry.”

Blaine swallows. He sets the rest of his cookie carefully on his napkin.

“May I borrow your phone?” he asks politely. “I left mine at home.”

Of course. Because his first instinct upon reading his letter was apparently to run a mile in the rain to his best friend’s house. Kurt fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over to Blaine. Blaine dials the number, steels himself, presses the call button.

It’s a long 20 minutes of being passed around and put on hold. They finish their tea and most of the cookies. Kurt sits in silent solidarity, folding his hands tightly together in his lap to keep from biting his nails. Blaine is perfectly straight and still.

Finally, an actual human picks up the call.

“Yes, hello, my name is Blaine Anderson. I got my match letter in the mail today, and I was a little…surprised. I was hoping I could verify the name with you, or maybe ask you to run the print again. Just to be sure.”

He listens, lips pressed tightly together.

“That’s fine. I just – I want to be sure.”

The easy confidence of his tone is starting to fray. He’s leaning forward, shoulders sitting high and tense. He listens for a moment. The worst of the tension eases.

“October 19, 1994,” he says. “Um. 7892. Yes, that’s right.”

He glances at Kurt, pulls the phone away from his mouth.

“She’s looking it up in the database. She said I’d have to pay an additional fee for them to run the print again.”

Kurt nods encouragingly. His hand is itching to settle on Blaine’s back, rub at the space between his shoulder blades, but he’s not sure how welcome that would be right now.

Blaine perks up, attention drawn back to the phone.

“Yes, I’m here.” He listens intently. He seems to be holding his breath. Kurt crosses his fingers. His heart is beating so fast he’s worried that the anticipation may actually kill him. Blaine blinks. “Oh,” he says. Tears spring up in his eyes. Kurt’s heart sinks. That sick feeling returns with a vengeance in his gut. Blaine clears his throat. “I see,” he says. “Yes, that’s – that’s what my letter said…no, that’s okay, I understand. Thank you for your time.”

He pulls the phone away, ends the call. He hands the phone back to Kurt with barely a glance in his direction.

“I’m so sorry, Blaine.”

“She said it wouldn’t be worth it to run the print again. They’ve already confirmed a two-way match. She said she didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

He sounds bleak. He still isn’t looking at Kurt. His hands are clenched around the couch cushion. Kurt covers one hand with his own, thumb rubbing soothingly over Blaine’s knuckles. Blaine meets his eyes.

“This only has to mean something if you want it to, Blaine. Plenty of people decide they’re better off without their soulmates in their lives. That letter isn’t a prison sentence.”

Blaine looks away.

“I know that. I know. I just – this isn’t what I wanted.”

Kurt could almost laugh. God, me neither.

“I know,” he says.

He squeezes Blaine’s hand. Blaine flips his hand over gently and squeezes Kurt’s, too. He smiles faintly.

“Do you think we could just…put on a movie or something? I can’t think about this right now.”

Kurt quickly agrees, eager to do whatever Blaine needs. He offers up a wide selection of comedies, romantic and otherwise, as well as his collection of Jersey Shore DVDs, but Blaine requests The Notebook.

“Are you sure?” Kurt asks, because they’ve discussed in great depth all of the reasons it’s the most romantic portrayal of soulmates ever seen on a screen. Not the kind of thing that’s likely to help Blaine take his mind off his situation.

“Yeah. I’m sure,” says Blaine, eyes wide and forlorn and turned on Kurt. Kurt’s not about to question it any further.

He sets up the movie and supplies an assortment of snacks high in both cheese and chocolate. He sits close enough to Blaine to show he’s there for him, but not so close as to encroach on his personal space. Blaine is a touchy-feely kind of guy, always slinging an arm over Kurt’s shoulders or grabbing his arm or sitting so close that their shoulders bump, but Kurt has never seen him this emotionally fragile. He doesn’t really know what kind of physical self-protection Blaine might need right now.

Not much, apparently. The space between them slowly disappears, until Blaine is leaning his head against Kurt’s shoulder. It’s a warm, welcome weight. Kurt gives in to the temptation and leans his own head against Blaine’s. Their thighs are pressed together, their arms resting in a tangle.

They don’t talk during the movie, not about anything real. They make occasional murmured commentary about Ryan Gosling’s soulful eyes or the gorgeous period costumes, but they otherwise watch in silence. They’re both openly weeping by the end, just like always. And, at the same time, not at all like always.

Kurt can feel the run-off from Blaine’s tears on his exposed collarbone. He’s pretty sure his own are dripping into Blaine’s hair. He does his best to clean his own face with the back of his hand, not wanting to encourage Blaine to move. Blaine has one hand pressed over his heart, where Kurt knows Karofsky’s thumbprint is imprinted.

“What am I going to do?” says Blaine, his voice barely more than a whisper through his swollen throat.

Kurt presses his lips together. He refuses to cry, not at this, not at pain that rightfully belongs to Blaine.

“I don’t know.”

“I can’t just never see him again.”

“You can if that’s what you want.”

“No. He’s got to know by now. He was already in the database – they probably sent out our letters at the same time.”

“I doubt he’ll come looking for you, if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s such a self-hating jackass he’ll probably toss it in the trash and pretend he never got it.”

“That’s not – I don’t know if that’s what I want.”

“Well,” says Kurt, carefully, “what do you want?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want, Kurt. I just know that he’s my soulmate, and that – that means something. I’m tied to him now. I can’t just walk away.”

Kurt’s heart clenches. Yes, you can.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt, Blaine,” he says evenly.

Blaine sits up, turns so that he’s facing Kurt. There are dried tear tracks on his cheeks, and his hair is as big a mess as Kurt has ever seen it. Still, Blaine has fire in his eyes, and it burns through everything else. He’s beautiful.

“I won’t. I’ll be careful, I promise. But I have to at least try and be his friend. Please tell me you understand.”

Kurt couldn’t possibly say no, not when Blaine is looking at him like that. He wants to be angry about it, wants to hate Blaine for even thinking of being friendly with the guy who threatened to kill him, but he can’t. He gets it. The soulmate bond isn’t easy to ignore.

It isn’t fair. Still, it was inevitable.

He swallows.

“Yeah.”

Blaine grabs hold of his hands and squeezes them in gratitude.

“You’re truly an amazing friend, you know that, Kurt Hummel?”

Kurt forces a smile.

“I do.”

Blaine smiles, too, the first real smile Kurt has seen since Blaine showed up at his door.

Kurt doesn’t cry. He doesn’t. Because the things that are slipping through his fingers were never his to begin with.

&&&&&

2012

“Do you want me to come in with you?”

Blaine is startled out of his reverie. He looks at Kurt, takes in the anxious thrum running through his body. He tries out a smile.

“That’s okay. It’s probably better if you don’t, actually. I mean, I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you, but – ”

“I get it,” says Kurt kindly. “I’ll be here, whenever you’re ready.”

He hovers awkwardly for a moment, they both do. Blaine takes in a deep, bracing breath and turns. He knocks. He can still feel Kurt at his shoulder, can still feel his support. He doesn’t wait for a response. He opens the door.

Dave is alone in the room. There’s a gift basket on his bedside table, but the room is otherwise entirely devoid of personality. It’s stale, perfunctory, as all hospital rooms seem to be. Dave’s is private, at least.

Dave looks up. His eyes are red-rimmed. There’s a fading mark on his throat where…Blaine swallows, and smiles.

“Can I come in?” he says.

Dave nods. He’s looking at Blaine like he can’t quite believe he’s there, like he just might be a mirage. It makes the lump in Blaine’s throat constrict. He pulls a chair to Dave’s bedside.

“These are for you,” he says lamely, holding up the bouquet of peonies in his hand. Dave doesn’t move to take them. Blaine sets them carefully next to the gift basket at his bedside. Dave’s eyes track the movements of his hands. “I also brought you some magazines. I thought we might look at them together.”

Blaine pulls them from his bag and holds them up for Dave’s perusal. Dave’s eyes light up in amusement. It’s a relief.

“People magazine?” says Dave, skeptical. His voice is rough, hoarse. Blaine ignores the cold shiver that creeps down his spine.

“The Sexiest Men Alive edition. I thought you might appreciate it.”

Dave snorts a laugh, but it doesn’t last long. His face darkens.

“You know, a year ago, I would have punched you in the face for saying something like that.”

He won’t meet Blaine’s eyes. His mouth is tight with self-loathing.

Blaine sets the magazines in a pile by his chair, Sports Illustrated on top. He takes Dave’s hand in his. It’s enough to startle him into eye contact.

“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not the same person you were a year ago.”

Dave’s eyes start to glitter over with tears. He tries to blink them away, but he doesn’t look away. Blaine squeezes his hand.

“I’m really happy to see you,” says Dave, his voice shredded into a whisper.

“Me too.” Blaine has never meant it more. He wills Dave to believe it, too. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did! Dave, even if you weren’t my soulmate – you’re one of my best friends. I care about you. Of course I had to come see you.”

Dave looks away, shame-faced, from the force of Blaine’s emotion.

“None of my other friends came,” he says quietly. “No one did, except my dad. I think I freaked him out.”

“He’s not the only one.”

Dave doesn’t acknowledge that, beyond a twitch of the lip.

“My mother thinks I have a disease,” he says.

“Oh, god, that’s – I’m so sorry.”

“She told me I’m not allowed to see you anymore.”

“What – why?”

“She thinks you infected me,” he spits.

Blaine blanches. Mrs. Karofsky has never been anything but warm to him. It touches an old bruise on his heart, knowing that she spoke of him with disgust. He can’t imagine what it must feel like to Dave.

“This is all really new to her,” he tries. “Maybe with time and education – ”

“No. My mother isn’t someone you can save.”

Dave’s jaw is clenched tight with anger. His eyes are sad. He’s still holding tightly onto Blaine’s hand. He doesn’t need to be placated.

“Then screw her,” says Blaine, and he means it. “If she can’t accept you for who you are, then she doesn’t deserve to have you in her life. None of them do.”

Dave’s face crumples. Blaine leans closer, but he can’t pull Dave into a hug the way he wants to. The angle is weird and the air between them fraught with unnamed things. He settles for running his thumb soothingly over Dave’s knuckles.

“I don’t know what to do,” mutters Dave, anguished. “I can’t go back to that school.”

“Then transfer to a new one. You could even come back to McKinley!”

Dave laughs incredulously.

“And what exactly would be there for me except more of the same?”

“Me. I’d be there.”

Dave’s face is screwed up against his tears, but it doesn’t stop them from falling. He can’t seem to look away from Blaine’s eyes.

“Blaine,” he says helplessly.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on, Dave?”

He’s been trying so hard to be gentle, and caring, but he can’t help but let his anger bleed into this. He could have – he could have done something, at least, if he’d known. If Dave had told him, or if Blaine had noticed. He could have done something.

“I didn’t want to bother you. You were busy with glee club stuff, and you were still recovering from eye surgery, and – and you were always with Kurt. I just – I – ”

“What? Didn’t think I’d care?”

He knows his tone sounds dangerous, but Dave doesn’t flinch. He sniffs. The tear tracks are starting to dry on his cheeks.

“No, that’s not – what I went through, it wasn’t any worse than what I put Kurt through last year. It wasn’t any worse than what you went through when you were 14. You were just a kid. I couldn’t even handle it for a week.”

“Dave, there’s nothing wrong with needing help. I want to help you.” His voice cracks. He swallows, but the lump in his throat doesn’t get any less painful.

“I know that. I do. But maybe that’s not what I wanted from you.”

“What – what do you mean?”

This, the way Dave’s eyes flash, and the thump of Blaine’s heart in return, it isn’t new. Not completely. It’s just never felt quite this close to the surface.

“You’re so strong, Blaine, and so brave. You would never let anyone stop you from being who you are. You have no idea how much I admire that. I just – I wanted you to look at me and see someone…worthy. Not someone you needed to rescue.”

“It’s not about that!” It bursts out. It has to. Blaine doesn’t have it in him anymore to be delicate. “Don’t you get it? You’re my soulmate, Dave. You’re a part of me. I need you to be here, and happy, and healthy, and I always will! Like it or not, we’re in this together.”

Dave is staring at him, transfixed. He’s utterly still.

“I love you,” he breathes. It’s sudden, abrupt, clearly unplanned, but Dave makes no attempt to take it back.

There’s an immediate upswelling of emotion, starting deep in Blaine’s gut. He looks at Dave, whose heart is broken open, held there on offer in his hands. There’s nothing left of the armor he constructed so savagely for himself. This, right here, this is bravery.

“I love you, too.”

“Really?” A smile is starting to dawn over Dave’s face.

Blaine nods, smiling through his tears.

“Yeah.”

Dave brings Blaine’s hand up to his mouth and kisses it sweetly. Blaine glances behind them, at the big window looking out into the hospital’s bustling corridor. This will have to do, for now. He turns back to Dave. He looks indescribably happy. Pride burbles up in Blaine’s chest. They beam at each other.

“How much longer are they holding you here?” asks Blaine eventually.

Dave blinks the dreamy haze out of his eyes.

“I’m still on 72 hour watch. I’ve still got – oh, about 49 hours to go.”

“Then it’s a good thing you have me to keep you company.”

Dave sighs dopily.

“Yeah.”

“Kurt came today, too. I asked him to give us a few minutes, but I bet he’s dying to come in here and say hello. Are you up for it?”

“Well, yeah. I can’t believe he – I mean, it was really nice of him to come.”

“He cares about you, Dave.”

Something flickers over Dave’s face, but he just squeezes Blaine’s hand.

“He’s a good guy.”

“Should I – ?”

Dave nods his approval, so Blaine gets up and goes out to the hall to retrieve Kurt. He wipes his hands over his face – it’s enough to clear away the residue from his tears, at least.

Kurt is sitting in a chair in the hallway, thumbing through a magazine that, by the look of it, he isn’t actually taking in at all. He looks up as soon as he hears the door open. He’s out of his seat like a shot.

“How is he?” he asks. His eyes are roving over Blaine’s face. It feels as if he’s really asking, how are you?

“He’ll be okay.” It’s true, either way. “He just – he really needs all the support he can get right now.”

They go back in, together, and Kurt pulls up a chair next to Blaine’s. Dave’s hand is open and waiting for Blaine’s. Kurt notices when Blaine takes it securely in his, but he doesn’t do anything to betray his reaction.

“How are you?” he asks.

“Okay,” says Dave. He glances at Blaine. “Better, now.”

“I’m really glad to hear that.”

“I’m glad you came. I would have understood if you hadn’t. After the way I treated you – ”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I get it now. I really do. The fact that you would even think about forgiving me…it just shows what a good person you are.”

“You’re a good person too, David.”

Kurt says it in that way he has, like it’s the unshakeable truth. Dave doesn’t argue. Blaine squeezes his hand.

“You’re more than the mistakes you’ve made,” he adds softly.

“And you’re going to get through this,” says Kurt.

Dave smiles, but it’s watery, and it doesn’t last.

“How do you know that?” he manages.

“Because we’re going to help you,” says Blaine, with ferocity that surprises even him. Dave’s eyes snap to his. He looks so lost, still. Blaine squeezes his hand. I’ll find you. I’ve got you.

“You know,” says Kurt, “this week, Mr. Schue had us think about something we’re looking forward to in the future. You want to give it a go?”

Dave nods. He glances back to Blaine.

“Yeah. Sure,” he says.

“Okay, so close your eyes.” Dave does so. So does Kurt. Blaine watches them instead. “Imagine what life could be like in ten years. You’re sitting in a fantastic office. You’re some kind of successful professional. A lawyer or something.”

“A sports agent,” Dave corrects, smiling faintly.

“Alright, a sports agent. You’re a big sports agent, living in the city of your dreams.”

“New York,” Dave interjects, squeezing Blaine’s hand.

Kurt’s eyebrows go up in surprise.

“Right,” he says neutrally. “In New York. Anyway, your handsome partner comes to visit you in your office and brings along your son. You’re taking the rest of the day off work because you’re taking your son to his first football game. You lean over to your partner, and you say – ”

“I’m so happy right now.”

Dave’s eyes are open, and he’s looking at Blaine. Blaine swallows. He can almost see it there in Dave’s eyes, the indelible image of an adorable hazel-eyed toddler held tightly in Daddy’s big, strong arms. It isn’t Dave’s future that Kurt is spinning for them. It’s their future.

Kurt’s eyes blink open. Blaine sees it, but only out of the corner of his eye. He can’t seem to look away from Dave’s incandescent smile.

Kurt doesn’t say another word.

&&&&&

2013

“Blaine? I wasn’t expecting you until 7.”

Blaine grimaces apologetically.

“I know, I’m sorry. Can I come in?”

“Of course. You’re always welcome, you know that.” Kurt slides the door open and steps aside. “Is everything okay?”

Blaine huffs out a sigh.

“Dave and I had another fight.”

“Another?”

Kurt wasn’t aware there was a first, actually.

Blaine slides out of his light spring jacket and hangs it on the coat rack by the door. He crosses the room, a man on a mission, and flops down on Kurt’s couch.

“He ‘hates New York,’ apparently, even though he’s only been here for what, like, three days? He won’t even try.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. Kurt sits himself cautiously on the couch next to him.

“It can be a tad overwhelming at first.”

“It wasn’t for me.”

“Well, you aren’t him. I bet that once he has time to adjust – ”

Blaine turns to him, eyes wide and starting to verge on manic.

“You don’t get it, Kurt. This is the plan! This has always been the plan. I didn’t even apply to any schools outside of New York! The least he can do is make an effort to make it work. I mean, what if he decides he never wants to move away from Lima? I can’t survive on community theater and Country Bear Night for the rest of my life, Kurt, I just can’t.”

And, okay, now he’s barreling right into full-on crazy. Kurt would find it adorable if he weren’t so horrified by the picture Blaine has painted.

“Okay, slow down. You’re getting ahead of yourself here. Can you just start at the top and tell me what happened?”

Blaine closes his eyes and breathes in sharply through his nose, a sure sign of frustration. He lets his head fall back against the couch cushion. He sighs.

“Dave has been really moody ever since we got here. I mean, you had to have noticed, right? He wasn’t exactly trying to hide it.” Kurt nods. It’s true, Dave had seemed a little off when they met for dinner last night. “I figured he was just feeling, I don’t know – he doesn’t always do well with change, and this is a really big one. So I planned this big night out on the town for our last night. You know, to show him how amazing our life will be once we make the move.” Kurt nods again. It seems not only reasonable but like a particularly Blaine thing to do. “We were going to start with an early dinner at that Ethiopian place – you know, the one you took me to when I visited in October? – and then we’d go see a show, probably Mamma Mia!, and then we’d swing by Callbacks, and I’d convince him to sing a duet with me, and we’d end the evening with a late-night stroll in Central Park.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Blaine looks at him. His eyes are so soulfully sad.

“I thought so, too.”

“I take it Dave didn’t agree?”

“He grimaced, Kurt. He actually grimaced. He said it wasn’t ‘his kind of thing,’ which is a total lie, because he totally bought Mamma Mia! on DVD before we even started dating, and we sing along to the radio together all the time. He’s actually really good – you know, for someone who’s never had training. The Ethiopian food might be a stretch, but it can’t hurt for him to open himself up to a food group other than red meat, honestly. So I called him out on it, and then one thing led to another, and, before I knew it, he was yelling that he hated New York, and he could never be happy here, and it wasn’t fair that I was asking him to change his whole life just so he could follow me around and watch me go after my dreams.”

Blaine is blinking back tears, now. Kurt holds out his hand on offer. Blaine takes it with a grateful squeeze.

“Do you think maybe he has a point?” Kurt says carefully.

Blaine doesn’t puff up with indignation, the way Kurt was half-expecting. If anything, he seems to deflate.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I thought this was what he wanted, too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Blaine’s voice is soft and choked-off. Kurt’s heart breaks for him. He musters up every ounce of confidence he possesses.

“You’re going to talk to him, and you’ll figure it out,” he says. “Together.”

Blaine looks at him. Hope is kindling a smile at the corner of his lips. He releases Kurt’s hand and wipes at the tears that haven’t yet fallen from his eyes.

“You think so?”

“You guys are soulmates. Of course you’ll work it out.”

If Blaine hears any hint of Kurt’s bitterness, he doesn’t let it show.

“You know that isn’t any kind of guarantee.”

“Maybe not, but it’s a pretty good reason to keep fighting for it, right?”

“I guess.”

Kurt narrows his eyes.

“You guess?”

“I don’t know. I just wonder sometimes. I mean, I love him, of course I do, but none of this is what I expected.”

Blaine isn’t looking at him, and it’s a good thing, because Kurt’s traitor heart has started thumping so hard he’s sure Blaine could see it.

“What do you mean?”

“I always thought it was supposed to be…easy, I guess, when you meet your soulmate. There’s an instant connection, and suddenly your heart knows what your body’s known for years. Everything just falls into place, because you’re meant to be together, and nothing is more important than that.”

“Like Allie and Noah?”

“Exactly. I’ve never felt like that with Dave.”

Blaine’s fingers are curled together, fidgeting. His lips are twisted with something akin to shame, holding back what Kurt knows must be an onslaught of emotions he doesn’t want to face.

Kurt is struck speechless. Blaine and Dave have had their ups and downs, certainly, but Kurt always thought – they’re so – Kurt looks at them, the way they smile at each other and the way their bodies fit together, their inside jokes and their cutesy nicknames and their old-married-couple bickering, and he’s so jealous he can barely breathe. He can admit that. He’s 19, and the only relationship he has under his belt consisted of a couple months of lukewarm dates and a few awkward attempts to get past second base.

Kurt looks at them, and he wants so hard that it hurts.

“Lots of people aren’t with their soulmates, Blaine.”

It isn’t what he meant to say. He didn’t mean to say anything at all, actually.

“I know. Of course I know that. I mean, Cooper’s soulmate is our mother, for god’s sake.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

“It’s not like a soulmate bond is some sort of binding contract. If you don’t want to be with him…” He trails off, the look on Blaine’s face cutting that thought off at the knees.

The silence that follows is uncomfortable, but Kurt doesn’t know what to say.

Blaine glances at Kurt. Their eyes catch. He looks away again.

“Can I ask you something, Kurt?”

“Of course.”

“Why haven’t you ever registered?”

The question catches Kurt by surprise. Maybe most of all because Blaine has never asked it before. He turns the words over carefully in his mouth before responding.

“I guess I’ve been waiting to meet someone who makes me feel…”

“Connected?”

Their eyes meet. Blaine doesn’t look away this time. Kurt takes a deep, measured breath.

“Yeah. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I always liked the idea of opening my letter and seeing the name and thinking of course.”

“There you are.”

“Exactly. And then, of course, I’d run off to find him, and I’d show him my letter, and I’d say – ”

“I’ve been looking for you forever.”

There’s longing in Blaine’s eyes and softness in his voice, and Kurt couldn’t possibly look away.

Blaine swallows and drops his gaze. Kurt feels the loss as a sharp pang to the heart. He wants to shake himself, snap himself out of it, but he can’t quite manage it.

“That’s what I wanted, too,” says Blaine quietly.

Kurt closes his eyes, and tries to close his mind against the implications of that. He feels very suddenly as if he could cry.

“Do you regret it?” he asks. He keeps his eyes glued to the coffee table in front of him. Still, he can feel Blaine’s gaze on him like the pull of a magnet.

“No,” says Blaine. “I couldn’t. I mean, if I hadn’t registered, I really don’t think Dave would be in my life. I can’t regret that.”

Kurt’s heart falls, and it’s stupid, because it’s the exact answer he expected.

“Of course.”

“But I do wish – sometimes I feel so – I don’t know, trapped, I guess.”

“Blaine – ”

“I know, I know, it’s not a contract, it’s not even like we’re married. I could break up with him tomorrow and that would be that. But it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s my soulmate, Kurt. That means something.”

Blaine is wearing his conviction like a suit of armor. Kurt pauses, regroups, chooses his words carefully.

“Okay, but does it mean more than your happiness? If it isn’t right – ”

“If I can’t make it work with my soulmate, what chance could I possibly have with someone else?”

It bursts out of Blaine. His mouth is set hard, an attempt at control. His eyes give away his desperation. They’re hard to look into and even harder to look away from.

“Blaine,” says Kurt, because he’s at a loss. He takes Blaine’s hand gently. It slowly unclenches, and Kurt laces their fingers together. “Blaine, the soulmate bond is just chemicals. You know that. It just means you’re chemically compatible. Which, yes, translates to a strong, intimate emotional connection for a lot of people, but it’s not – you said it yourself, it isn’t some kind of guarantee. Your relationship will never be right if your heart isn’t in it, soulmates or not.”

Blaine’s eyes are darting between Kurt’s. He squeezes Kurt’s hand and smiles faintly.

“Thank you,” he says. “I needed to hear that.”

Kurt smiles back, just as faintly. He honestly has no idea what’s going on in Blaine’s head. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. His heart is pounding, and Blaine is close, and he can’t think.

“Of course.”

Blaine gently detangles their fingers and checks his watch.

“It’s getting kind of late,” he says. “Do you want some help with dinner?”

Kurt blinks his daze away.

“Yeah. That would be – yeah.”

Blaine smiles brightly.

“Great. My hands are at your command,” he says, wiggling his fingers.

And just like that, the switch is flipped. It’s as if nothing has happened at all. They make dinner together, side by side, bumping hips and singing along to the soundtrack of Rent. Dave arrives promptly at 7, a bouquet in his hand and an apology in his eyes. Blaine accepts both. They sit with their chairs touching at dinner, Dave’s arm resting over Blaine’s shoulders. Kurt graciously does not remark upon the way Dave keeps looking at Kurt, as if there’s something he’s trying to prove. Santana notices, too. She raises her eyebrows at Kurt meaningfully, and he knows he’s going to get an earful after their guests leave.

They play charades after dinner – Kurt, Blaine, and Dave against Rachel, Santana, and Sam. They win handily, of course, and it takes three rounds of rematches before Rachel is willing to admit defeat. She’s probably right, it probably wasn’t fair to put Blaine on a team with both his soulmate and his best friend. Oh, well.

Kurt has almost managed to put his conversation with Blaine out of his mind by the time they say their goodbyes. Almost. His heart gives an extra-hard thump when he leans in to hug Blaine. He rolls his eyes at himself.

Blaine whispers, “Thanks again, Kurt. You really helped me get my priorities in order.”

His eyes are practically shining with gratitude. Kurt doesn’t know what to say. He smiles tightly.

“What are friends for?”

&&&&&

2014

He knocks, doesn’t even give himself enough time to catch his breath. He knocks again. His heart is racing too quickly for him to keep up. He raises his hand for a third round of knocking, but then the door is sliding open, and Kurt is there in front of him with his eyes startled wide.

“Blaine! I thought you were supposed to be at the airport. What’s – are you okay?”

He seems to remember himself, then, and steps aside for Blaine to enter.

“No, I’m not okay,” says Blaine. He’s still a tad breathless. “Dave and I broke up.”

Kurt gapes.

“What? That’s – why?”

“It was a lot of things. Long distance wasn’t working, and neither of us was willing to move, and he could tell, Kurt.”

“Tell what?”

“That my heart wasn’t in it. I wanted it to be, I really did. I tried, but – ”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“He called me tonight, less than three hours before my flight, and he – he told me I shouldn’t come unless I was sure, really, really sure, and I – I wasn’t, Kurt. I just wasn’t.”

“Sure about what?”

“That I was coming home. That’s how he put it. He told me I shouldn’t come for a visit if that’s all it was to me, because he wants to be with someone who thinks of him as home. I didn’t know what to say to that. There was nothing I could say, because he’s right. He deserves that, and it’s not something that I can give him.”

He’s babbling. He knows he’s babbling, knows his words aren’t really making sense, but Kurt has his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, steadying him and drawing him close. He finds Blaine’s eyes. Kurt’s are blue in this light, and laser-focused on Blaine. It’s always heady, being at the center of Kurt’s attention.

“So he ended it?” asks Kurt gently.

“I – I guess so, yeah.”

“I’m so sorry, Blaine.”

He is, too. He looks genuinely sad. It’s sweet, but not necessary.

“No, it’s good. Really. He was right, I would have let it go on and on until we both hated each other. It’s good that he spoke up now.”

“I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.”

“I don’t think I did either. I think maybe that was part of the problem.”

Kurt nods, but he has the bewildered look of a person who’s still a little lost. He lets go of Blaine’s shoulders and sweeps a hand toward the sitting area.

“Go have a seat. I’ll grab what’s left of Rachel’s limoncello and a couple of mixers to dull the battery acid aftertaste.”

This – this isn’t the direction Blaine’s momentum was taking him. He pauses for a moment, re-calibrates. Kurt just watches patiently.

“Do you have any cookie dough?” says Blaine.

“We just got a fresh pint. Shall I grab one spoon or two?”

“Two, please. While I’m sure I could eat an entire pint of ice cream on my own, I’d much rather have the company.”

Kurt smiles at him fondly, then turns on his heel and strides into the kitchen. Blaine plonks himself onto the couch. His heart is beating almost normally now, and his breathing has slowed down accordingly. Still, the adrenaline that carried him here is running rampant through his body.

Blaine can hear clinking from the kitchen as Kurt gathers their supplies, as well as faint, idle humming. Kurt probably isn’t even aware he’s doing it. Normally, Blaine would join in on harmony, but it’s really all he muster today to smile. He turns to watch. Kurt has a tray balanced on one hand, the other busy cradling the ice cream. He moves with the practiced ease of someone who makes his living waiting tables.

It’s funny – for all that Kurt’s long lines and lovely bone structure give him the illusion of grace, he’s really pretty shockingly clumsy. Still, he doesn’t let it stop him from moving through the world as if he believes himself to be part swan. Blaine has always admired that.

Kurt sets the tray and the ice cream carefully on the coffee table in front of them and takes his seat at Blaine’s side.

“Voila!” he says with a flourish of the hands. “Liquor and ice cream, what more could you ask for?”

Kurt’s phone buzzes. He glances at his pocket but makes no move to check it.

“I’m not taking you away from anything, am I?” says Blaine. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think to check before I came barging in here.”

Kurt raises his eyebrows in amusement.

“I would hardly call it barging in. You might be the only guest who actually waits for someone to answer the door.”

“Still.”

“Don’t worry. Elliott’s been bugging me to come out with him to this club in the Village, but I haven’t even given him an answer yet.”

“You can still go if you want to. You don’t have to babysit me.”

“Blaine, you’re my best friend. No one and nothing is more important to me than you. Of course I want to stay with you. It isn’t even a question.”

He pulls out his phone and taps out a text. He hits send, then shows it to Blaine.

Can’t tonight. Hanging with Blaine, it reads.

“There, now it’s done. And Rachel will be out until late, so you’re stuck with me.”

He smiles warmly. Blaine can’t help but return it. He’s touched.

“Thank you. There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with.”

Kurt doesn’t let the moment linger. He looks away, clears his throat. When he meets Blaine’s eyes again, it’s clear that something has been closed off that was open just a moment ago. Blaine’s heart sinks.

“So,” says Kurt. “What’ll it be? Pick your poison.”

Blaine hesitates. He feels very suddenly as if he’s at a crossroads. Pick ice cream, and they’ll talk the whole thing to death, until Blaine is an emotional mess and Kurt has to sop up his tears. Pick limoncello, and Blaine will be at the piano singing out his feelings in two seconds flat, while Kurt guides him through the art of post-break-up trash talk. And Kurt will still have to sop up his tears.

Neither is what he really wants.

He looks at Kurt. He sees the artful sweep of his hair, the fine beauty of his features, the scant hairs rebelling against the grain of his left eyebrow. He sees the heart that’s trembling in Kurt’s closed fist.

He can’t say nothing. He can’t. Not when he ran here tonight. Not when it’s the reason he isn’t with his soulmate.

“Kurt,” he says, because it’s a place to start. “Kurt, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Kurt’s brow furrows warily.

“Oh?”

“I haven’t told you the main reason Dave and I broke up.”

Kurt swallows.

“And, um. What was that, exactly?”

“Dave knew – he could tell that my heart wasn’t with him because he knew…”

“What, Blaine?”

Blaine steels his courage. His heart is hammering against his ribs. He looks Kurt in the eye, because he doesn’t want to hide from him anymore. He wants Kurt to see.

“He knew that my heart was with you. It always has been.”

Kurt’s eyes are darting between Blaine’s, as if they’re looking for something. The rest of his body is entirely frozen.

“I don’t – you mean…” he trails off.

“I love you,” says Blaine. At least that, he’s certain of.

Kurt’s mouth drops open. He inhales, a long, silent gasp.

“I love you, too,” he breathes.

He’s scared, at least as scared as Blaine is, but there’s nothing he’s hiding right now, in this moment, and it’s – it’s overwhelming, and beautiful, and maybe the best thing that Blaine has ever felt, because this is Kurt, and it feels like they’ve been waiting for this forever. They’ve been holding back parts of themselves that yearn to be shared.

The distance between their bodies feels too far, now that they’ve closed the distance between their hearts. Blaine leans in. Kurt’s gaze shifts down to Blaine’s lips. Blaine cradles Kurt’s jaw in his hand.

The kiss starts out slow and sweet, but then Kurt is pulling him close, and there’s a surge of hunger in the places where they’re connected. It’s a blur, then, of lips and tongues and hands and skin, all scrabbling to get closer. Blood is pounding hot through Blaine’s body, and so loud it almost drowns out the noises Kurt is making deep in his throat, the aborted whimpers and helpless moans.

When, finally, they pull apart, Blaine finds himself on his back, bow tie undone, chest heaving with the effort to pull in enough air. He isn’t sure how he got there. It doesn’t matter. All he can see right now, all he can feel is Kurt. Kurt, who looks undone and maybe even a little wild, hovering above him. Kurt, who loves him.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” says Blaine, and it pains him to speak at all right now, and even more to say this. Still, it has to be said.

“Of course, Blaine. This is all I’ve ever wanted. You must know that.”

“Even though I’m not your soulmate?”

Kurt’s eyes go soft. He shifts his weight so that their foreheads touch. His eyes are all that Blaine can see.

“I choose you. I will always choose you. That means more to me than any soulmate.”

His lips find Blaine’s again, and Blaine is lost.

&&&&&

2015

Blaine answers the door right away. His polite smile gives way to confusion when he sees Kurt, and then, quickly, concern. He’s wearing a shade of green that makes his eyes pop beautifully. The afternoon sun is sending a shaft of light that gleams off of Blaine’s hair and brings out the golden tones of his skin.

The thump of Kurt’s heart picks right back up, and the breath he only just caught is lost once more.

“Kurt?” prompts Blaine.

Kurt shakes off his momentary daze. “I met him,” he says. He moves past Blaine into his apartment without waiting for an invitation. He feels jittery, as if he’ll come out of his skin if he stops moving.

Blaine closes the door carefully behind them. When he turns to Kurt, his brow is furrowed.

“Him?”

“My soulmate. I met him tonight.”

Blaine goes blank. He’s gotten better at it.

“Oh? I didn’t even know you’d registered.”

“I was waiting to tell you until after I’d met him. I didn’t want you to think – ”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

Blaine is smiling, but it’s so false it makes Kurt’s heart ache. Kurt grabs his hands on impulse. He’s feeling reckless.

“No, you don’t. You don’t get it at all. Do you know the real reason I never registered before now?” Blaine doesn’t respond, but his eyes are fixed on Kurt’s. Kurt has his attention, at least. “Because it didn’t matter. It still doesn’t matter. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted, Blaine. You’re the love of my life. If it wasn’t yours, I didn’t care whose thumbprint I had in my skin.”

“Why now?”

“Because I wanted – because – I hate being apart from you, Blaine. I hate it. And I knew that we could never really fix things as long as this – this ghost was standing between us.”

Blaine’s smile this time is real, if small and sad. He squeezes Kurt’s hands briefly, then lets them go. Kurt has to force himself not to tighten his hold. His heart falters.

“Why don’t we go sit down?” says Blaine gently, already leading the way to his living room.

The apartment is fairly small, modest. It probably costs less than Blaine ever paid for rent in New York. His parents must be thrilled he decided to do his internship semester in Lima.

Kurt has never been here before, and yet he feels entirely at home – perhaps because the place feels so very Blaine. The color scheme, the neat organization of the bookshelves, the controlled flow of the living room furniture, all of it is so familiar. There are pieces from Blaine’s old bedroom hanging on the walls and littering the decorative surfaces, as well as items he collected in New York.

The fondness Kurt feels now, looking around this space that’s entirely Blaine’s, it’s almost enough to make him laugh. It’s such a sharp contrast to the flare of annoyance he used to feel whenever Blaine tried to assert any kind of control over their shared living space. Deep down, Kurt never really stopped thinking of it as his.

There’s a picture on the mantle of Blaine with Dave, arms around each other’s waists, grinning at the camera. They’re wearing complementary Buckeyes jerseys. It’s a recent picture.

Kurt is nowhere to be seen.

Blaine settles on his couch and looks expectantly up at Kurt. Kurt sits down, too. It’s a conscious effort to stop his knee from jiggling.

“So, tell me about him,” says Blaine.

It isn’t what Kurt expected, but he’s willing to run with it. He looks Blaine directly in the eye. He has nothing to hide.

“His name is Walter. He’s recently divorced, from a woman, and he has a couple of kids who are right around our age. He’s older than my dad, which is kind of weird, but he’s still fairly attractive, if you’re into that kind of thing. He only registered a little over a year ago, right after he came out of the closet. He’s nice, and funny, and kind of quirky, and we have a lot of similar interests. We had a nice time together. If things were different, I might even be tempted look past the age thing and see where things go between us – you know, romantically – but as it is…”

Kurt trails off. He reaches out tentatively to cover Blaine’s hands, clasped neatly and resting on top of his knees. Blaine is watching him intently, but his eyes are still guarded. Kurt isn’t sure if it’s because he doesn’t know where this is going, or because he does.

“I told him I wanted to be friends,” says Kurt, firmly, determined to soldier on. “I said it wouldn’t be fair to either of us to start up something romantic, because my heart just wouldn’t be in it. It couldn’t be, Blaine.”

“Why not?”

Kurt coaxes Blaine’s hands into his own once more, tangling up their fingers because he can’t bring himself to look away from Blaine’s softening eyes for one single second.

“You know why,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

“Blaine, yes. Of course. What I said to you that night, it was wrong, and stupid, and the worst mistake I’ve ever made. The only thing I’m sure of when I think about my future is that you’re there with me.”

Blaine surges forward without warning, tugging at their joined hands so that Kurt can meet him in the middle. The kiss feels desperate, feels like flying, feels like coming home. Kurt’s fingers twitch, because he wants to grab Blaine’s shoulders, or wind his arms around Blaine’s neck, but he also doesn’t want to let go of his hands.

The kiss really only ends because they’re starting to tip sideways from the force of it. Blaine pulls back, finds his center of gravity. Kurt is too wobbly to do anything but let his body slump against the back of the couch. They’re still holding hands. They’re both smiling like idiots.

“I’m sorry,” says Blaine, utterly sincere.

“No, no, no, don’t apologize, that was – ”

Amazing, life-changing, something we should absolutely do again. Kurt’s muzzy brain can’t decide.

Blaine laughs.

“That’s not – I mean, for how messed-up things got between us in New York. I know I must have seemed like a hypocrite, considering…”

“Considering that Dave is still one of your best friends?”

Blaine smiles sheepishly.

“Yeah.”

“I never thought you were a hypocrite. I just hated that you didn’t believe me.”

Blaine’s eyes go big and wounded, but it only lasts a moment. When he speaks, his voice is steely.

“It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” says Kurt, quickly. “I know, I get that now. That’s why I wanted to meet Walter.”

Blaine blinks. He’s taken aback, probably because he was half-expecting Kurt to fall back into their old patterns. They’re friends again, they’ve been working at that, but they’ve also avoided really talking about the issues that tore them apart.

Kurt is never going to convince Blaine that he’s changed, just like he was never able to convince Blaine that he wouldn’t inevitably leave him for his soulmate. He has to show him.

Blaine must see some of that on Kurt’s face, because he smiles, a slow, private smile, and he scoots closer.

“Is he really older than your dad?”

“By at least five years. But he does at least still have all of his hair.”

“I’d like to meet him.”

Kurt raises his eyebrows, surprised and maybe a tad suspicious.

“Really?”

“He sounds great. And if he’s lucky enough to be your soulmate, he couldn’t be anything short of amazing.”

Blaine looks nothing if not earnest. It’s one of the things that Kurt both loves and admires about him, that he can say these things without even a trace of irony, just an open, honest heart. Kurt smiles, he can feel it dawning all over his face.

“I love you,” he says, because that’s the only name he can put to the emotion that’s suddenly overflowing from his heart.

Blaine smiles his gorgeous, crinkle-eyed smile and knocks his forehead gently into Kurt’s.

“I love you, too.”

When their lips meet again, it’s so very sweet that Kurt feels as if his heart is singing. He pulls Blaine’s body to his, revels in the shift of muscles in his back, the strong, steady weight of his hand against Kurt’s jaw. Blaine shifts until he’s practically in Kurt’s lap, and then it’s even better. Kurt can feel him everywhere, inside and out. Blaine moves his mouth to the sweet spots on Kurt’s neck and just beneath his jaw, plays them with the same finesse and expertise as he would the keys on a piano. Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god, Kurt’s missed this. He’s about to let out a high note that can only be heard by dogs, he’s sure of it – he’s already lost control of the noises that are pouring out of his throat. Kurt hauls Blaine up and dives back in with renewed fervor. He can feel Blaine’s smile against his mouth.

“Do you think maybe you should give me the grand tour of your bedroom?” Kurt breathes.

Blaine is pulling him off the couch in about two seconds flat. He smacks a kiss against Kurt’s cheek and offers him a hand to hold.

“Right this way,” he says, beaming, when Kurt takes it.

Kurt gives it a squeeze. He’ll always take Blaine’s hand.

He gets it now, the way he only thought he did before. Love isn’t just a choice – it’s a choice you make every day. Fortunately, he could never imagine a day when he wouldn’t choose Blaine.