His name is written on Kurt’s left ring finger. That’s where all the names of soulmates are—just around the base the letters tiny but stark. And if he’s got the order of the letters correct, and he’s sure he does, his name is Blaine Anderson.
Kurt meets him three times without even knowing it.
First, they pass each other by at a show choir competition. The same happens the second time. The third, they stand on opposite sides of Lima’s gay bar and look each other’s way a few times, but neither of them approaches.
It’s years later that they finally connect.
"Okay. Improv 101. Introduce yourselves, names and one random fact, go."
Kurt looks around nervously—it’s his first semester at NYADA, late admission, and he’s still half-convinced he didn’t quite earn his spot just yet. Something feels like it’s missing. But he has only seconds to gather himself, there are only two people before him in the circle—
"Caitlin Klein, I have double jointed knees."
The cute boy next to him straightens up and clears his throat.
"Blaine Anderson," he says, and Kurt’s heart clenches so hard that it can’t even beat its next pulse. "I’m here on early admissions and I’m terrified."
He turns to look at Kurt, and Kurt realizes he’s next oh god what can he say—
"Kurt Hummel," he says, and Blaine’s eyes go as wide as his own feel. "And I just found my soulmate."
The room erupts, but Kurt can’t even here it.
There he is.
Summary: Future NYC fic in which Sam asks Kurt and Blaine why they don’t indulge in PDAs.
I wrote this in honor of the anniversary of Never Been Kissed. It is partially based on my own experience with my first boyfriend… and also first and only girlfriend (though that problem is easier to hide).
No spoilers beyond episode 5.04. Around 1200 words, rated R. Thanks to Mimsy for reading it over.
By 3:00am, nearly everyone has gone home and it’s just their small, core group of friends settling into the lazy, silly conversation that often marks the end of a party. Kurt’s sprawled out on the couch, his head in Blaine’s lap and his feet pressed up against Rachel’s thighs. He watches her, happy to see her giggling as she regales Elliot with her new 10-year plan. From the way Blaine’s fingers still while petting Kurt’s hair he knows Blaine is watching her too.
Everyone is mellow, buzzed from the easy camaraderie, infinite promise and Dani’s spiked cider. Kurt revels in it, lets it wash over him and settle into his bones; they deserve this.
Blaine plays with his hair, presses his thumb into Kurt’s right temple, runs a finger down his nose. Kurt smiles and when he turns to check on the others he notices Sam’s eyes darting back and forth between the two couples—Kurt and Blaine on the couch, Santana and Dani curled up in the chair, making out.
Kurt catches Sam’s next glance over and says, “What?”
Sam blushes. “How come you guys never kiss?”