CHAPTER 28

Kurt arrived at the Lima Bean ten minutes early, ordered a mocha and settled at the corner table, immediately reconsidering his choice of beverage. He didn’t really need to get more agitated from caffeine and sugar.

He’d spent the whole day in the hospital with Blaine, keeping him company as he went from post-surgery confusion back to normal, relieved that the worst was over. Blaine had to stay overnight for observation, and eventually the nurses shooed Kurt out, assuring him that with the meds Blaine had just received, he would sleep peacefully through the night. That was what Kurt counted on. He really didn’t want Blaine to feel the echoes of this particular meeting. But it was now or never.

By the time he saw the Dalton blazer standing in line at the counter, Kurt had stopped staring at his coffee and actually finished drinking it. He was playing with a sugar packet when Sebastian finally joined him at the table. The wave of loathing that swept through him at the sight of Sebastian’s fake smile was immediate and uncontrolled, so intense that he hoped Blaine wasn’t just shaken awake in his bed across town. 

“You’re late,” he said, forcing his restless fingers to keep still.

“I have better things to do than drink substandard coffee with you,” Sebastian drawled.

“And yet you’re here.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I was curious. So what is it? Did you call me to admit we won that pathetic sing-off? Because we obviously did.”

“Screw the sing-off,” Kurt spat. “Why did you do it?”

Sebastian didn’t even try to pretend he didn’t understand. “Because we could,” he said, coolly. “The guys were all for teaching you a lesson. You’d be surprised how many of them despise you for luring their fearless leader away.”

Kurt wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“Really. How did they feel about teaching Blaine, instead? Did they know you put something in that slushie?”

Sebastian ignored the last question. “Well, it’s not my fault Blaine decided to be all heroic. It’s unfortunate, really. Obviously, I wouldn’t intentionally do that to my soulmate.”

“Obviously. How do you feel today, by the way?”

That seemed to shake Sebastian off his guard, but he recovered quickly. “What? Fine. I’ll feel better when I don’t have to look at your gay face.”

“Mhm,” Kurt hummed, calmer than he thought he’d be. He reached to touch the mark on Sebastian’s hand with his pointer finger. “It’s a fake, isn’t it?”

Sebastian’s jaw bunched and he jerked his hand away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The mark. It’s fake. Do you want to know what you would have felt for the last three days if it was real? I can tell you. Pain, every time Blaine’s meds wore off. Fear. Betrayal. Confusion as he woke up after his eye surgery this morning – an eye surgery caused by your lesson.”

For the first time, a look of uncertainty flashed through Sebastian’s face, but it was gone in a blink. He shrugged. “Fine. Whatever. So I messed with you two a little.” He licked his thumb and rubbed over Blaine’s name on his hand; the mark smudged immediately. “I’m tired of it anyway.”

Seeing the cause of all that drama fade under nothing more than a careless swipe of a finger felt surreal.

“Why?” Kurt asked. “Why would you do something like that?”

“To get in his deliciously tight pants.” Sebastian didn’t look chastised in the slightest. “I had Blaine’s signature from an old Warblers roster, I blackmailed an artistically inclined freshman to copy it onto my hand with a marker… it was almost too easy. Pity it didn’t work. But I kept it up to piss you off, touching it up as needed.” He grinned. “That worked, didn’t it?”

Now the anger came. “How could you– Do you even know what it feels–”

“Please,” Sebastian interrupted him coldly. “Like I believe in this crap. It’s just some fucked-up mutation.” He took one last swipe at his hand where Blaine’s name sat, faded now like an old sepia photograph, and got up. “Okay, you’ve wasted enough of my time. See you at Regionals. Good luck finding a better setlist.”

He was one step away from the table when Kurt called his name. He turned.

“What did you put in that slushie?” Kurt asked.

Sebastian smirked. “Rock salt.” Then he turned away and strode to the door.

*

Blaine had been in the Dalton headmaster’s office a few times before, usually on Warbler business, but it had never felt as official and solemn as it did now.

He was sitting in a soft chair, flanked by both of his parents, his right eye still taped over with gauze and covered with a black eyepatch. Across from him, Sebastian sat ramrod-straight, his face an unreadable mask. He hadn’t looked at Blaine except for a quick glance when he entered. The chair next to Sebastian’s was empty – his father, the only parent who had accompanied him, was pacing the room.

Mr. Smythe was as tall and thin as Sebastian, with a head of thick graying hair and the sharp face of a man who was used to having authority. Blaine watched with morbid fascination as that face got harder and darker when the headmaster explained the reason he’d been summoned to school, and then played Kurt’s tape.

It was only the second time Blaine heard that tape since Kurt presented it to Blaine’s parents two days ago, and the raw anger that swept through him now was just as hot as it had been then.

Sebastian’s father stopped pacing, but he didn’t sit down. Instead, he stood by his son’s chair and looked at Blaine’s parents, his eyes glancing over Blaine as if he wasn’t there.

“Are you going to sue?” he asked simply, like a businessman inquiring about a deal.

“We are thinking about it,” Blaine’s mom said. “But we wanted to hear what you are proposing to do about it first.” His dad remained silent. He did want to sue, Blaine knew. They had argued about it all day yesterday.

“I’m sure we can negotiate some kind of settlement–”

“I’m not talking about money, Mr. Smythe. I want to know what you are going to do about your son’s unacceptable behavior.” Blaine’s mom’s voice was cold, and Mr. Smythe nodded.

“Oh, I agree that it was completely unacceptable and I can assure you it will not go unpunished.” He turned to Sebastian. “Son, do you remember what I told you would happen if you disgraced me at one more school?”

“Yes, sir.” Sebastian’s voice was completely devoid of inflection, cool and flat.

“And what was that?”

“You said you’d send me to military school.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m doing. You have gotten completely out of control. I overlooked the underage drinking and public indecency, because we have all been young once. But violence? That’s a dealbreaker.” Mr. Smythe turned to the headmaster who’d been observing the scene in silence. “I would like to have transfer papers prepared as soon as possible. I will pay for this month, of course, but Sebastian will no longer attend Dalton, effective immediately. I will have him at Carson Long within a week.”

The headmaster nodded curtly. “Very well. I’m sure that’s for the best. An expulsion wouldn’t look good on young Mr. Smythe’s records.” He frowned at Sebastian’s father. “We don’t tolerate violence here, as you know.”

“Of course. I appreciate your discretion.” Mr. Smythe turned from the headmaster and for the first time looked directly at Blaine. “Now, as you can imagine, I would prefer to settle the matter of my son’s reprehensible behavior out of court. So Blaine, I want to offer some sort of compensation for the suffering and distress the recent events have undoubtedly caused.”

“What do you propose?” It was Blaine’s father who asked.

“Sebastian is going to sell his car – that’s a Porsche, last year’s model. Whatever price we get at the dealer, I’m sure he will be happy to transfer to you.”

Blaine’s eyes widened. So did Sebastian’s. He was suddenly at the edge of his chair, his face pale.

“But father, you can’t–”

Mr. Smythe whipped around to face him. “I’ll tell you what I can’t. I can’t stand that my son is so spoiled and thoughtless that he thinks of hurting others as entertainment. We’ve clearly overindulged you over the years, and that ends now. Until you graduate – with honors ­– from Carson Long next year, you have no car and no credit cards. Do we understand each other?”

Sebastian stiffened, as if fighting the instinct to snap, but then he exhaled slowly and hung his head. “Yes, sir.”

Blaine almost felt sorry for him. But then he remembered the weeks of torment when he woke up panicked almost every night because he saw Sebastian’s name blooming on his body in his dreams; days when nothing, not even Kurt’s love, made him feel safe from the threat that had been only a cruel joke all along.

He thought of the slushie that was destined for Kurt.

No, he wasn’t sorry. Sebastian had brought this on himself.

“Sir, I don’t want your money,” he said calmly. Mr. Smythe looked pleasantly surprised. Blaine raised his hand before he could reply, though. “But there are people who could use it. So I accept your offer, and I’m going to donate half of the sum to the It Gets Better foundation, and the other half–” Blaine looked straight at Sebastian, “to the Glee club at McKinley High.”

If he expected a reaction from Sebastian, he was disappointed. Sebastian kept looking at his knees with an impassive expression. Oh well, he had bigger problems now than the Warblers win at Regionals. If they were permitted to participate at all. Blaine had heard that the club was temporarily suspended.

Mr. Smythe nodded. “Very well. I shall get the money to you within the week, and then I hope we can put this ugly matter behind us.”

Blaine allowed himself to space out a little as his parents discussed the details with Mr. Smythe. He felt drained, overwhelmed, and the dull ache in his head was growing – just a stress headache this time, thankfully. His eye barely gave him trouble anymore. If the afternoon check up went well, he would be returning to school next week – and not a day too soon. Because of Sebastian, he’d lost more than enough precious time with Kurt before his inevitable departure for college. But he was going to make up for it; he had plans. He just needed to be allowed back already.

The meeting finally concluded and Blaine got up along with everybody else, relieved and more than ready to leave, but Mr. Smythe’s commanding voice stopped him before he turned toward the door.

“Son, don’t you think you should say something to Blaine at least?”

Sebastian paused and looked at Blaine for the first time. The dead expression on his face shifted momentarily. He took a step forward.

“I apologize for throwing that slushie. That was thoughtless and immature, and I know it doesn’t change anything, but I truly regret doing that.”

Blaine nodded stiffly, aware of all the eyes on them. Of course Sebastian regretted it. He wouldn’t be where he was right now if he hadn’t done what he had.

Sebastian’s jaw bunched and he paused before adding, “And I’m sorry for causing trouble between you and Kurt.”

“You didn’t cause trouble between me and Kurt,” Blaine said coolly. “You caused a lot of anxiety and unnecessary stress, but Kurt and I are soulmates. It would take much more than your plotting to cause trouble between us.”

Sebastian’s eyes softened somehow. “I’m glad to hear that. Please extend my apology to Kurt, as well.”

“I will.” Blaine reached out a hand – his left hand – and Sebastian took it, surprised. “Good luck.”

It was an immense relief to see the skin on Sebastian’s hand clear and unmarked. He’d known it would be, of course. But actually seeing it made it that much more real. It was over. Kurt was Blaine’s one and only soulmate. No more questioning that. Blaine breathed easily for the first time in weeks.

He followed his parents out of the building and to the parking lot, Mr. Smythe and Sebastian walking in tense silence a few steps in front of them. Blaine gave them one last look before getting in the car, and his eyes widened.

If he hadn’t googled the mark-concealing body stickers out of curiosity a few weeks before, he would have thought nothing of the flesh-colored band aid peeking above the collar of Mr. Smythe’s shirt.

*

Kurt sat in the choir room, feeling utterly miserable. He had promised himself so much for this year’s Valentine’s Day – the first Valentine’s Day when he wasn’t single; the last Valentine’s Day before he went to college – and now everything was ruined. Of course, it wasn’t Blaine’s fault, and they had already agreed to celebrate lavishly on the weekend instead, but that didn’t make him feel much better right now. Everyone in the whole school seemed disgustingly happy and in love. To make matters worse, the Glee theme of the week was, of course, love, and Kurt had a thousand songs he wanted to sing, but the love of his life was miles away and couldn’t hear them anyway. So instead, Kurt sat apart from his obnoxiously bubbly classmates and sulked.

Even the prospect of the party Sugar was throwing that night at Breadstix didn’t help his mood. Blaine had insisted he should go, especially since Blaine had a check-up at the hospital and wouldn’t be home until late, but judging how much fun Kurt was having at school today, the evening didn’t look promising. Kurt sighed and tried not to glare at Tina and Mike as they sang an adorable love song, all heart eyes and cuteness personified. Gross.

One of the cupid-dressed Cheerios peeked into the choir room in between songs, a small stack of cards in her hand. “Kurt Hummel?” she asked.

Kurt’s head snapped up. “Here.” He raised his hand and the girl floated through the room and handed him a pink envelope before rushing out.

Kurt stared at the envelope with wide eyes. There was only one person it could be from, and he opened the flap with a growing smile just as Mercedes stepped to the front of the room to sing for Sam. Inside, there was a simple, rather generic-looking card with a bouquet of tulips on the front. Kurt opened it, confused with how very un-Blaine it felt.

Scribbled inside was Happy Valentine’s Day, Kurt! in an unfamiliar hand. Below, the sender’s signature made Kurt’s jaw drop with shock.

Dave Karofsky

There was a PS underneath, and Kurt frowned as he read it: Could you meet me at Breadstix at 4? I want to talk to you.

The rest of the hour passed as he considered and reconsidered the best course of action. Should he go? He didn’t know what Dave wanted with him, but he had an unsettling suspicion. Dave had hinted once, last year, that he had – or used to have, at least – a bit of a crush on Kurt. Kurt had considered it to be a thing of the past, but a Valentine’s Day card and a request of a meeting on that specific day spoke for itself.

As uncomfortable as the thought made him, by the time Glee ended, Kurt decided he would go. It was only fair. Dave probably didn’t even know Kurt had a soulmate; he would tell him and let him down gently, let him know there was no chance of anything between them, ever.

Breadstix was filled with frantic activity when Kurt entered, its interior almost unrecognizable under all the décor for tonight’s party. He stopped at the threshold and looked around. Sure enough, there was Dave at one of the corner tables already, half-hidden under a plastic plant. He stood up when he noticed Kurt. He was wearing a gray suit and a serious expression, and Kurt’s heart sank. Oh, it wouldn’t be easy.

“Hi, Kurt. Thank you for coming.” Dave smiled at him as soon as Kurt neared the table.

Kurt nodded. “Thank you for the card. But… I don’t really understand why you wanted to see me.”

Dave smiled wider. “I wanted you to meet Matt,” he said.

Only now did Kurt realize there was another boy seated at the table, tall and wiry in a blue button-up, with cropped dark hair and very blue eyes. Kurt took his extended hand, confused.

“Matt is my boyfriend,” Dave added, and Kurt looked at him, surprised. “Well, to be precise, he’s sort of my… soulmate?” The beaming smile on Dave’s face as he looked at the boy was something Kurt had never seen before, and with a start, he realized: Dave Karofsky was happy.

“Oh my god, congratulations!” he exclaimed, excited, and sat down on the free chair. “I’m so glad you’ve met your soulmate too!”

Dave settled on his chair again. “It’s only been ten days,” he said, sounding almost shy. The boy – Matt – reached for his hand over the table. “And I just… I wanted to thank you, Kurt.”

“Me?” Kurt’s eyebrows arched in confusion.

“Yes, you. See, if it wasn’t for you showing me for years, even when I didn’t want to see, how someone can be brave and open about who they are, I wouldn’t have been ready for this right now. I would have ran and hidden my mark, gotten it removed, anything to seem normal.” Dave winced at his own choice of words, but spoke on. “And I would have never known how happy I could be.”

He looked at Matt again. As he squeezed Matt’s palm, Kurt noticed the dark trace of his mark right under the knuckles of Dave’s left hand, in neat, careful cursive.

“It couldn’t be more in my face, could it?” Dave said with a wry smile when he saw Kurt looking.

Kurt finally found his voice. He was strangely moved. “I’m glad you were able to take that chance though, and not hide any longer. That takes a lot of courage. And if was helpful in some small way, well, it’s good to hear that.”

“I just wanted to say thank you. And to apologize once more for all the crap I gave you all that time. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that.”

Kurt nodded. “Apology accepted. Does Matt–?” he broke off and glanced at the boy, unsure how to ask.

“He knows. I told him all about my inglorious past. No use building a relationship on secrets, right?”

Kurt smiled, relaxing into the chair. “I agree. So how did the two of you meet?”

It was almost six when Kurt got home, his mood noticeably better. The party didn’t start until eight, so he had more than enough time to eat dinner and change. At least he wouldn’t be the only one going alone. Finn would keep him company.

He opened the door to his room and stopped dead in the doorway. There was a huge basket of red roses sitting on his bed with a red glittery card attached. Next to the flowers sat an adorably kitsch plushie of two white puppies on a red heart, their noses touching. He walked to the bed and picked up the card, grinning.

I know we said we’re not celebrating today, but I couldn’t resist. I love you always, don’t ever forget that. Yours, Blaine

Kurt let out a little squeal of delight and leaned over the flowers to breathe in their delicate fragrance. He’d been wrong. The day wasn’t ruined after all. 

Three hours later, Kurt was dancing slowly in Blaine’s arms. The lights were dimmed and his heart accelerated happily as Blaine brushed his lips against the side of his neck. The song ended much too soon, followed by something fast and bouncy, and Kurt pulled Blaine to the table, navigating among the dancing crowd.

“How did you do it? I thought I wouldn’t see you until tomorrow night!”

Blaine beamed at him, his eyes – both of them – clear and sparkling with joy. “I got an all clear from my doctor this afternoon, so I decided to surprise you. Sugar was more than willing to accommodate my plan, so here I am.” He pressed a quick kiss against Kurt’s cheek. “I’m good as new, I just can’t drive for a week or two, so my mom gave me a lift and arranged it with your dad so that she will pick me up in the morning.”

Kurt’s eyes widened. “You’re staying the night?”

“I’m staying the night.”

This was the best Valentine’s Day ever.