A/N: Here it is, and I'm sorry for the wait. Real life interferes – I'm trying to start earning money with my words now, so progress on my fics is slower than I'd like it to be lately. Hopefully it's just a matter of time before I settle into the new schedule, because I still have so much fun planned for this story and I can't wait to share it with you :)

Thank you SO much for all the love and comments, they always brighten my day, and I'm sorry that I suck at replying recently – I promise I'll try to do better once I whip the chaos of my non-fandom life into some semblance of order. Hugs and kittens (bunnies? puppies? take your pick!) for all of you!

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CHAPTER 18

The story started small, in the first week of August – just a mention about the "strange phenomenon" in the morning news on a slow day. By the evening it had been quoted in the Health sections of all the major news sites. "Random names appearing on people's bodies", "tiny percentage of the population", "no reason to worry", "the scientists are working on understanding the anomaly". And the word that seemed to catch everyone's attention, just one of the potential explanations thrown in dismissively among scientific jargon: "soulmates".

The sheer volume of responses and comments was staggering and within days, the story grew and ballooned, until it was everywhere – huge articles in newspapers and premium spots on TV news, floods of discussions all over the internet. Soon it was revealed that the percentage of people with marks wasn't that small, after all – according to different sources, it was already between 5 and 10% of Americans, and probably just as much all over the world. And the numbers were still growing, with new cases reported every day.

Suddenly, there were "experts" everywhere – doctors and philosophers, geneticists and priests and self-proclaimed mystics, stating their opinions and beliefs with unshakeable conviction. The marks were called a plague or a miracle, people with names on their bodies were either diseased or chosen, blessed or cursed, depending on who you asked. Stories of happily "matched" couples were countered by tales of anguish by people who suffered ridicule and embarrassment because their marks appeared in highly visible spots.

Five days after the first reports, a well-known plastic surgeon announced he'd recently developed the most effective method of removing the "obnoxious markings", and offered discounts for the first ten patients interested in the procedure. In reply, a celebrity wedding planner called the marks "the most beautiful proof of destiny existing" and promised her services for free to the first "soulmate couple" who wanted to tie the knot. The internet was abuzz, people divided between those squealing with excitement at the romanticism of the soulmates idea, those predicting horrible things to come out of this new epidemic, and the usual angry crowd demanding an explanation, a cure, money, or the resignation of the president. Everywhere you went for days, people hardly talked about any other news.

Blaine was watching all this in silent dread.

He and Kurt had agreed not to reveal their marks to anyone who hadn't known by then, which meant only being out to Tina and Mike, and Kurt's dad and Carole. Even Finn didn't know yet. They were still waiting for Blaine's parents' reaction to all the hype, hoping it would be positive, or at least open-minded enough to let them stop hiding their connection. But days went by and Mr. and Mrs. Anderson seemed completely uninterested in the issue that was on everyone's tongues.

Blaine refused to start the topic himself, unwilling to draw attention. Discussing news and current events wasn't really something they did at his home. But he made a habit of watching TV with his parents on those evenings when he wasn't out with Kurt, hoping for... anything, really. A comment, a discussion, even just some indication of their opinions.

It took a whole week since that first news for his parents to say anything at all.

Another mark-related story was just airing – several couples who were "matched" by the names on their skin speaking about how perfect it felt when they'd found each other – when Blaine's father grabbed the remote with a frustrated huff.

"For god's sake, isn't it time to stop talking about some damn skin disease and go back to reporting important news? Who cares what your freckles say, people! Soulmates, indeed." He changed the channel with a vicious stab of his thumb.

Blaine's heart dropped. Not that he was surprised by his father's attitude – it was exactly what he'd thought it would be – but he would lie if he said he hadn't hoped, just a little...

"But it sounds real, don't you think?" He couldn't stop himself. "I mean, all those marks must have some function, right? And people do find each other, and they fit together, it makes sense."

"Oh Blaine, of course you'd think that, you're so young." His mom cooed soothingly, reaching over to stroke his hand. "But there's no such thing as soulmates. There isn't just one perfect person destined to be with you. A good relationship is more than a meeting of predestined lovers that leads to a happily ever after, real life doesn't work like that."

"I know." He mumbled through a clenching throat. No ally there either, then. It hurt more than it should. "It's just... a nice concept, I guess."

"It's a beautiful one, yes. But believing it only leads to heartbreak." There was something off in his mom's voice, a hint of distress on her face as she glanced down at her hand, still covering Blaine's. A blink and it was gone, covered by a smile. "Aren't you going to bed?"

"Yeah, I should." It wasn't his bedtime yet, not even close, but he had a feeling tonight's phone call with Kurt would be a long one. He got up from the couch and kissed his mom's cheek. "Goodnight."

Keeping the secret was even harder now that all of their friends were talking about it. Suddenly marks on skin were like a cool new gadget. Everyone wondered about them – what they felt like, what they really meant – and Tina and Mike, who had revealed theirs for what they really were as soon as the news spread around, found themselves answering a thousand questions from their fascinated friends time and again. And it wasn't that Blaine envied them the exposure, especially the way relative strangers would stop them to inquire about the marks sometimes – frankly, that part was creepy. But hiding, pretending not to know when their friends discussed how it must feel to have a soulmate, or argued whether or not such a concept was even real, somehow felt like betrayal to him, like tainting the most beautiful thing in his life with secrecy. He would never deny what Kurt meant to him, but this felt exactly like what he was doing.

Kurt was infinitely patient and understanding, and did everything a perfect boyfriend would do – and that made it even harder. Harder to watch when Kurt's jaw clenched tight every time someone spoke about Tina and Mike being the one chosen couple among them, dismissing the rest as silly high school romances; harder to stand there, holding Kurt's hand, and pretend it wasn't his soulmate right there. And when Finn came home one afternoon in the middle of August brokenhearted because Rachel discovered a name on her breast that wasn't his, it was almost physically painful to listen to Kurt speak about how having this kind of connection must be so very special and worth waiting for, and how maybe Finn would know that feeling one day, too – maybe they all would. The look on Kurt's face almost broke Blaine's resolve and made him come out with the marks to the whole world right there and then.

But it would only make Finn feel worse, so he pushed it aside in favor of being a good friend – and by the time he returned home that night, the courage had somehow melted away again, leaving just the selfish fear of change.

Because what Blaine had now was the closest to acceptance he'd felt from his parents since the day he came out. It seemed like they were finally okay with his sexuality, or at least as close as they would ever get. Jeopardizing that when he'd yearned for it for so long was... unthinkably hard. He would do that for Kurt, of course he would – he would do anything, if Kurt asked.

But Kurt hadn't asked. Not yet, at least.

So Blaine was stuck between enjoying the peace at home and feeling guilty towards Kurt, which resulted in trying to make it up to Kurt any way he could, any time he was allowed. Which was a lot, considering that Blaine's mom threw herself back into her social life now that she'd decided her self-imposed chaperone duty was no longer needed. She was out of the house most of the time Kurt and Blaine were there, which led to many delicious hours spent slowly discovering each other, hidden away in Blaine's bedroom.

If Blaine could draw, he'd be able to sketch every inch of Kurt's gorgeous body from memory by now, every dip and curve, every shadow, every freckle.

He really regretted that he couldn't draw.

He could take pictures; in fact, he had dozens of visions in his head of exactly how he would love to capture Kurt – beautiful, artistic nudes both in color and sepia tones – but it was too early for that, as Kurt's furious blush when he mentioned it told him.

Those last few weeks, they'd learned a lot – about pleasure, and each other, and how their marks figured in all that. They'd learned to hold back when one of them came instead of immediately following the shared thrill of pleasure, and discovered that while increased sensitivity to each other's reactions was definitely real, the phantom orgasms didn't happen when they were together. Kurt's theory was that it was a mind thing, since it only worked when they were thinking of the other – and not much thinking happened when they were actually close, able to see and touch for real. Blaine didn't really care how it worked – having Kurt in his arms was better than any phantom sensations ever.

There were so many things Blaine had discovered he loved during those long hours of privacy they had now. Kurt's hands, of course, the way his touch was so different from Blaine's own, and yet so perfect in its shy, exploratory gentleness. The sounds Kurt made just before he came, high and helpless, so desperate. The way Kurt kept pushing the levels of his own sexiness up into the stratosphere, with barely a blink and a teasing smile. Blaine thought his brain would explode with it sometimes – like that day when Kurt straddled his hips, all flushed and naked, gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat from the hot humidity of the room, his hand working over his own cock with slow deliberation until he came all over Blaine's mark, that spot so sensitive and private, sizzling with pleasure.

But being naked together wasn't the only thing they did with their time alone – far from it. They spent hours in the backyard, swimming and reading and talking, and lounging in the hammock. It turned out Kurt was actually okay with the sun as long as his sunscreen was always within easy reach. When it got too hot, they watched movies in the delightful coolness of the den, and on a few cold days they baked cookies together, making an awful mess in the kitchen because seeing Kurt all domestic caused Blaine to get handsy every single time, and then there was flour everywhere and chocolate smeared on their skin, and thank god the oven had a timer or they would probably cause a fire alarm on more than one occasion. Not to mention, burnt cookies.

Kurt wouldn't forgive him burnt cookies.

All through August it felt like they had all the time in the world, the long lazy summer days filled with love and closeness and friends, no hurry at all. And then it was suddenly the last week of their vacation and like a switch flipped, everything felt urgent as the school year and the separation it would bring drew nearer with every passing hour.

Seven days left.

They had lunch with Rachel, newly single and annoying in all of her freshly-marked self-importance. They were both fidgeting in their seats by the time she was done with her half-hour monologue about the importance of not wasting her time with the wrong person, now that she knew without a doubt her soulmate was waiting for her out there in New York. When she started lecturing them on the signs to look for, expressing her hope they would one day get to experience the indescribable feeling of knowing their true love's name, Kurt looked like he was about to snap, his jaw clenched and his fingers playing with the neck of his t-shirt. Blaine really wouldn't blame him. Maybe it would make her stop talking at least.

Six days.

They spent the whole afternoon with Kurt's family. A barbecue in the backyard turned into a jam session when Puck and Sam arrived with their guitars, and it was warm and fun and peaceful and no one even blinked at Kurt and Blaine cuddling together on the porch swing, so used to the view after all those months. It felt so good that they didn't even try to sneak in and up to Kurt's room for some privacy in the evening, just shared a few chaste kisses and smiled softly into their I love yous before Blaine drove home. It was one of those days Blaine knew would stay in his memory forever as a reminder of times when everything was right in the world, if only for a moment.

Five days.

Kurt was on top of him, kissing-licking his way down – all the way down over the skin thrumming with desire, slow and tender and not stopping, never stopping until–

Kitten licks to the head of Blaine's cock, hot and wet and shocking, and Blaine arched up, babbling, begging, all control gone in an instant. More shy little licks, Kurt tasting the beads of precome at the tip of Blaine's cock, swirling his tongue around with a thoughtful, captivated expression. Then kisses – down the length of Blaine's cock, and lower, over his balls. He pushed Blaine's legs apart to better settle between them – and that was it. Blaine lost it, the feeling of being so open all of a sudden, so exposed for Kurt enough to push him over the edge.

Afterwards, Kurt was suddenly shy and flushed pink, with a wet spot spreading on the front of his blue boxer-briefs that he hadn't even had time to take off before they'd fallen into each other. And then there was a sound of the garage door opening and they were scrambling for their clothes, so there was no chance for the second round, no matter how much Blaine wanted to have his turn, too. But the delicious possessive thrill that ran through him when Kurt went out of the bathroom wearing Blaine's borrowed boxers was something he definitely needed to file away to think about later because, ohmygod.

Four days.

They talked – about yesterday, about what they wanted, what they were ready for, and what they weren't, yet. And then they implemented the new knowledge and oh wow, Blaine really really liked to suck cock.

They went outside afterwards to make use of the last bits of freedom in the sun, resisting the temptation to just stay in Blaine's bedroom forever, taking turns to learn everything there was to know about blowjobs. They were giddy and excited, and swimming led to a tickle fight in the pool, which ended with dropping onto the blanket in a giggling wet mess and kissing until they dozed off under the huge garden umbrella, warm and tired and happy.

They slept longer than they should, only waking up when the evening chill started to creep in on their almost-naked bodies, but fortunately there was no one home still, so all was good.

Three.

They had a plan – dinner and movies in Lima, but Blaine's mom shocked him in the morning with a request to call Kurt and invite him to eat dinner with them. Them. As in, both of Blaine's parents. He had to ask her to repeat because he was certain he misheard.

He didn't.

So he called, and Kurt accepted, and then he spent half a day calling Blaine every half hour obsessing about his outfit for the evening. They went to the movies anyway, but then drove to Blaine's home, and the dinner was... wonderful, actually. The conversation was smooth and lively, his parents behaved as if they'd never had anything against Kurt in the first place, and before Kurt went home, Blaine's mom hugged him goodbye. And Blaine had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

Two.

When Kurt had said last week that he wanted to drive to Columbus for the day, Blaine thought it would be just a shopping opportunity before school began, a little change of scenery. He didn't expect them to stop by the Ohio State campus so that Kurt could take a look around.

"How can I go to New York next year, and leave you here?" was all he said to Blaine's shocked inquiry.

There was silence in the car on their way back, but it was loud and chaotic in Blaine's head. It shouldn't be like this. It wasn't right for Kurt to give up his dream just so that they could stay close next year.

But when he actually thought of the distance, he wasn't sure he could bear the alternative.

One.

Blaine came home late that evening after the end-of-summer party at Brittany's. The day had been fun, but when the time came to say goodnight to Kurt, the mood shifted and now Blaine was just immensely sad. Grateful for the summer they'd had, but painfully aware how hard it was going to be now, only seeing each other every day after school again. If they even had time to meet every day. It was Kurt's senior year, after all.

Blaine's mom knocked on his bedroom door just as he'd finished preparing his bag for the morning. She was in her nightgown already, her hair loose and make-up washed off. Secretly, this was Blaine's favorite look on her, so natural and different from the one she wore for the world to see. Even her smile was different like this – warmer, more private.

She hovered in the doorway, the way she did when she came to say goodnight sometimes. "Hey, how was the party?"

Blaine shrugged and took out his Dalton uniform, freshly cleaned and pressed, to hang it on his closet door, ready for the morning.

"It was good. You know – we had a bonfire and sang a lot. There were some silly games Brittany came up with... it was fun."

His mom nodded and came in, closing the door before she sat down at the edge of his bed. It didn't look like she had only come to say goodnight after all.

"So... they really are your friends, too? Not just Kurt's?"

"They are. Well, some of them more than others, but we've spent so much time together by now that it really feels like I'm an adopted member of New Directions. Um, that's their Glee club."

His mom looked as if she wasn't really listening, just looking at him uncertainly. It was confusing. He was just about to ask her what was wrong when–

"Do you still want to transfer?" It was quiet but clear, and it knocked Blaine completely off-balance, his mom's dark eyes earnest and inquisitive on him.

"Mom?"

"I talked to your father today and we decided... if you want to. If you really want to, for you, not just for Kurt."

In a heartbeat, he was kneeling by her feet, grabbing her hands. "You're really letting me transfer? Now?"

She laughed that quiet, bright laugh of hers. "Well, not now. But we'll go to Dalton in the morning, you and me, to take care of the paperwork. You should be able to start at McKinley in a few days. If you're sure."

"I'm sure. I really, really am, mom."

He was so sure. The thought of going back to Dalton had been a heavy cloud over his head lately, and not just because of the dreaded separation from Kurt. Dalton had felt like home once, like a safe haven. But the last few months there had felt more and more like a cage that Blaine had fled as soon as he could. Nothing kept him there anymore. Not even the Warblers, now that the council members had graduated and the new voices had grown, demanding changes to the old traditions, to the classy image that Blaine loved.

Yes, he was ready to say goodbye to Dalton. And being close to Kurt this year was what he wanted most in the world, too. But... he shook his head minutely.

"Mom? Why now? What happened? I mean... you invited Kurt to dinner, you hugged him, and now this. It feels like something changed, and I'm over the moon about it, don't get me wrong, I just don't know... why?"

He couldn't decipher the look on her face – it was soft and tender, but also so very sad that it almost scared him. But before he had time to worry, she reached out and raised the hem of his shirt, uncovering his left side.

"Because of this."

His mark. Out in the open, clear and obvious above the low-slung waist of his pajama pants, unmistakable to anyone who'd had any contact with mass media lately. Blaine reached to stroke Kurt's name on instinct.

His mom knew. And she wasn't... angry, or disappointed?

"How did you–?"

"I came by the house a few days ago to pick up a book I'd forgotten, and found you two asleep by the pool. It was kind of hard not to notice." Blaine shook his head, incredulous, but she just smiled. "How long have you had them?"

"Since Christmas. Both of us." He whispered. Her eyebrows shot up.

"Eight months?"

"Yeah. But... mom, you said you don't believe in soulmates."

She smiled sadly and let his t-shirt fall back down. "I did believe in them once. And then I stopped. Because even if it were real, having a soulmate and being with them doesn't immediately mean a happy ending. It's not a surefire happiness recipe, and it doesn't mean you can't have a great life with someone else. I just... I didn't want you to get too hung up on the idea, with all the hype around. But now that I know about you and Kurt, it's more than an abstract. I've seen the way he looks at you, how happy he makes you, and now those marks. That's all I want for you, Blaine. To be happy."

"I am happy with him, mom. I never knew being with someone could feel so perfect."

She smiled and threaded her fingers through his hair, something she hadn't done in years.

"I'm glad to hear that."

They sat in silence for a moment, until Blaine couldn't resist anymore. "Mom? Who was it? The one that made you believe in soulmates once?"

She hesitated, reaching to play with the ring on her right hand, a silver band shaped into a wide wreath of ivy leaves that covered her ring finger almost to the knuckle. Now that Blaine thought of it, he didn't think he'd ever seen this ring on her until recently.

His mom saw him looking and her mouth quirked in a wry smile. "It doesn't matter. That was before I met your father and chose a future with him. And... I have my family. I chose this family and I will always choose it. But if that's what soulmates mean, if Kurt makes you feel that way, then who am I to stand in the way of your happiness? Just... treasure what you have, Blaine. It's a precious thing. And a fragile one."

His eyes stung when she stroked his cheek and he pressed his face into her warm hand.

"I do, mom. I will."