It had all happened in a whirlwind. One second he'd been examining his surroundings, lost on a staircase, then, in the blink of an eye (or rather, the asking of a question), his life had been changed forever.
Kurt had known from the moment he'd first caught the attention of the honey-eyed boy, that nothing about his life would ever be the same. As the boy smiled politely back at him, and introduced himself as Blaine Anderson, Kurt knew that when he rolled back the sleeve of his jacket, he'd see that very name etched into his skin. He could already feel the scratchy burn of the letters forming on his wrist, marking him forever as Blaine's.
He was charming and funny, more than Kurt could have ever asked for and exactly what he had needed. Blaine was his ally in a world where nobody seemed to care. He'd transferred from McKinley without ever looking back.
He had been hurt and confused when he realized that his own name, etched in his own calligraphic handwriting, wasn't decorating Blaine's wrist the way the messy scrawl of Blaine's handwriting graced his own. He'd kept his mouth shut since the day he'd found out, not letting Blaine know that his name was written into Kurt's skin.
They were soulmates; they had to be. But Blaine seemed to remain blissfully unaware of Kurt's feelings as their friendship grew, asking for help practicing for Christmas Spectaculars and bringing him exactly the right coffee, until one day, near Valentine's Day, when Kurt finally thought he'd caught a break, thought that Blaine had finally realized who he should have been with all along.
But, as Kurt had already figured out, his luck was terrible. He couldn't figure out what hurt worse, the bitter sting of embarrassment that he'd thought that Blaine was going to serenade him or the emotional pain of listening to his soulmate sing a song about sex toys to the junior manager of the Gap.
It was after the fiasco that was the so named Warblers' Gap Attack had ended, Blaine emerging bitter but wiser, that Kurt finally decided to speak up. They'd been getting coffee after school as usual when he turned to Blaine, his expression hesitant but determined.
"Okay, can I ask you something? Because we've always been completely honest with each other. You and I? We hang out. We sing flirty duets together. You know my coffee order. Was I supposed to think that that was nothing?" He asked, biting his lip.
"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, confused.
Kurt took a deep breath and continued. "I thought the guy that you wanted to ask out on Valentine's Day was me." Blaine's eyes flew open wide as the words sunk in. He opened his mouth, but Kurt cut him off. "Blaine, listen. There's something I've been meaning to say for awhile. Well," He started rolling up his sleeve and Blaine swallowed thickly, his eyes opening impossibly wider as he saw his name on Kurt's skin.
"K-Kurt..." he trailed off, unsure of how he was going to finish the thought anyway. He swallowed again and reached out to touch the slightly raised lettering, letting his thumb slide across the letters of his name as he processed the new information. "Kurt, I really care about you," he said slowly, deliberately. "I just—I don't want to screw this up."
Kurt smiled softly, feeling relieved that everything was out in the open. "Just do whatever you need to do, Blaine. I'm not asking for anything. You're my best friend and that's enough." He rested a hand on Blaine's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.
He had been even more relieved by the fact that nothing got awkward between them, aside from the uncomfortable tutorial on how to be sexy, and everything moved forward as it had been. Kurt was finding himself more and more okay with just being friends, because at least it was something.
But another whirlwind moment was about to turn his life on its head. He's still not sure exactly what happened. He'd felt terrible that Pavarotti had died, sang a song for the Warblers, gotten chosen by Blaine to be his duet partner, and then he'd found himself absently gluing rhinestones on a tiny casket only to be interrupted by Blaine entering the room to practice their duet.
Blaine sat down and pulled Kurt's hands into his own, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt and sliding his thumb across where his name was written on Kurt's pulse, feeling the steady thrumming of his pulse beneath his fingers.
"Kurt...there is a moment when you say to yourself, 'oh, there you are, I've been looking for you forever'." He took a deep breath, watching his thumb slide across Kurt's skin. "Watching you do Blackbird today, that was the moment for me, about you. You move me, Kurt. Doing this duet together would just be an excuse to spend more time together."
Kurt's eyes were wide as he listened to the admission. He'd barely had enough time to process the words before Blaine was leaning forward to connect their lips.
All thought was quickly erased by the overwhelming feeling of warmth and electricity that came from his soulmate's lips on his own. He'd experienced how amplified even the most innocent of touches felt when it came to soulmates. When Blaine would brush against his hand, he could feel the tiny sparks of electricity travel down his spine, but this was wholly different.
He whimpered against Blaine's lips and pressed forward, desperate for more of the heady, perfect feeling of Blaine's lips sliding against his own. Finally, Blaine pulled back, their lips making a soft smack sound as they parted. Blaine's pupils were blown wide and his breathing was ragged. He took Kurt's hand, squeezing his eyes shut tightly in an attempt to form a complete thought.
"K-Kurt, I don't know what it means that you have my name and I don't have yours, but it doesn't matter. I want this, and I want you. We can figure it out together," he said, his voice quiet and sure.
Kurt smiled and slid his thumb across Blaine's knuckles. His heart was pounding and he was sure Blaine could feel it from where his thumb was still sliding across his pulse. Kurt swallowed thickly and whispered, "Together." His voice sounded rough and bordering on wrecked even to his own ears.
A triumphant smile touched Blaine's face and he surged forward to connect their lips again, the word together still ringing in his ears.
And they did figure it out. Part of Blaine had hoped that Kurt's name would miraculously appear after their first kiss, but it hadn't.
The fact that Kurt's name wasn't etched on his skin meant very little to Blaine though. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Kurt was his soulmate. Every time they'd touch, even through all the layers, Blaine's would feel silent shockwaves coursing through his body, constant reminders that Kurt was his and he was Kurt's. There was no denying the butterflies that would still flutter through his stomach every time he heard Kurt laugh at one of his jokes.
The decision to transfer schools had been the easiest choice he'd ever made. Saying goodbye to his friends was hard, but McKinley High was where his heart was.
He loved Kurt. Completely and absolutely. He loved kissing Kurt. He loved holding Kurt. Each day he'd find some new reason to fall deeper and deeper in love with the unique and beautiful boy. And he loved it. He loved that he could fall deeper and deeper and Kurt would be there to catch him every time.
Even now, eight months later, he was sure of the decision he'd made in the Dalton common room. Kurt Hummel was his soulmate. Against all odds, Blaine's nameless wrist notwithstanding, they'd found each other, just like Tony and Maria, and Blaine knew that Kurt was the one. He wanted to take the final step and give himself to Kurt completely.
He'd told Kurt that he was ready to take their relationship to the next level three days before opening night of the McKinley High production of West Side Story. Kurt had looked surprised and a little flustered. Blaine squeezed his hand and walked away, leaving Kurt leaning against the lockers with a contemplative expression. They hadn't gotten a chance to talk about it further, because Blaine had sent Kurt a quick text saying that he had to go drop off the Warblers' tickets for the production.
He breathed in the antiquated smell of the hallway leading to the practice room, knowing that's where his friends were. His mind wandered to the many stolen kisses he and Kurt had shared in the alcoves and hideaways of the hallway. His lips quirked up into a wider smile as he heard the clear sound of the Warblers practicing, a bright rendition of Uptown Girl.
He smiled and leaned against the doorjamb of the practice room, watching and listening silently, unnoticed by his friends. Nostalgia swept through him as he watched the routine, his eyes focusing in on his old friends, glancing around at the few new faces in the group.
He froze as his eyes landed on a tall boy with dark blond hair. The boy's green eyes lifted to meet his own and Blaine's stomach dropped as he felt an unpleasant burning on his wrist, the too-hard press of a sharp pen against his skin.
The routine ended and the Warblers all greeted him, the green eyed boy gathering his things in the back of the room. Blaine handed his friends the tickets to the show and they all filed out, patting him on the back and saying their hurried goodbyes as they went. Blaine took a quick second to examine his wrist. He felt a helpless feeling sink into his bones as he took in the blockish letters that spelled out a name that was certainly not Kurt's.
He'd failed to notice that the boy had walked up, a devious smile on his face and a hand extended. Blaine's eyes were still glued to his wrist.
"Hi, you must be Blaine Anderson," the boy said conversationally. "I'm-"