We walked back onto the Anderson estate, BJ complaining furiously about having to sit at dinner and make small talk without me.  I started to offer another apology, when I heard footsteps coming from behind us.  I turned to see the boy running toward us, a desperate look in his eyes.

“Don't even think about it,” BJ said.  “The orchestra is already warming up on the veranda.  We don't have any more time to waste here.”

“Perfect,” the boy said.  “I know a shortcut.”

To my shock, he grabbed my gloved hand in his, and we started to run together.  BJ sputtered in protest, but ran after us.  We cut across the lawn, ducking under a low-hanging tree, and I laughed in exhilaration.  I knew I'd be hearing from BJ about this later, but it was worth it. 

When we reached the mansion, the boy bypassed the veranda, heading into the home through a side door.

“Where are you going?” BJ yelled, struggling to keep up with us.  

We ran down a long hallway, my hand still clutched tightly in the boys.  Then we ran up a tall marble staircase and down another hall.  

Then, we stopped.  The boy looked at me, his honey-colored eyes dark with longing.  

“In here,” he whispered.

I followed him into a dimly lit room, in which most of the space was taken up by several billiard tables.  At first I thought the room was empty, until I caught sight of a heavily-muscled man standing in the corner.  His skin was dark from the sun and rough from the wind, and he was dressed in ripped jeans and a tight black tank top.  His arms were completely covered in tattoos.

The man glanced up at us, then aimed his cue.  “What is it, kid?”

“I wanted to introduce you to someone.”

BJ caught up with us, panting heavily.  She leaned over with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.  “I'm... going to... kill you...” she gasped.  “Don't care if... you are my... third cousin...”

The tattooed man's eyes lit up in interest when he caught sight of BJ.  He straightened up, running a hand over his blond hair and down his ponytail.  “Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” he cooed.

BJ looked up and froze, her mouth dropping open.

The boy turned to me, his smile wide, but I just shook my head in confusion.

“Who is that?”

“I'm Kurt Hummel,” the man said, striding forward.  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, sexy lady.”

“Kurt...?” BJ asked weakly.

The man reached out to shake her hand, and they both gasped.  Then the man tore off his glove, showing her the name Blaine Anderson written on his palm in silvery script.

“It's me,” BJ laughed, her eyes wet.  “It's me, and it's you.”

“You're Blaine?”

“I go by BJ.”

His eyes lit up.  “I have a tattoo that says BJ!”  Indeed, on his upper arm was a large heart, with the letters BJ inside.

“Because of me?” she asked, touched.

“No, because I love blowjobs.”

“I do too!”  

They launched themselves together, kissing and groping each other desperately.  When BJ's top came flying off, the boy led me out of the room quickly, shutting the door behind him.

“I don't understand,” I said.  “How can she have two soulmates?”

“She doesn't.”  The boy lifted my hand, peeling off my glove gently and sucking in a shaky breath when he saw Blaine Anderson written on my palm.  I watched as he pulled off his own glove.  Then I stopped breathing when I saw his palm.

Kurt Hummel.

“But how...  Out of all the people in the world... Two pairs with the same names?  How many Blaine Andersons...”

“At this party?” he said teasingly.  “The odds are pretty good.”

“So she's not... and he's not?”  I felt dumb, dizzy.  My head swam with the new information, and my heart reeled with the possibilities.  “We are?”

“Kurt,” said the boy — said Blaine.  “May I touch you?”

I nodded mutely, and he reached out to touch my bare fingertips.  Instantly, I felt sharp tingles of pleasure shoot their way through my body like lightning.  I gasped, my knees weak, and fell forward until my forehead rested against his.

“It feels like magic,” I murmured, my heart pounding in my chest.  “It's just like the fairy tales.”

“No,” he said. “This is better than the fairy tales.”

He stroked my neck gently, then tilted his head, leaning in to press his soft lips against mine.  I whimpered at the feel of him, the taste of him.  Outside, the orchestra began to play, and colored lights flashed in front of my closed eyelids as fireworks lit up the night sky.

“You're right,” I whispered as we pulled apart for air.  “Way better than the fairy tales.”

Eventually the sound of sex noises coming from the billiard room left us too horrified to stay on the landing.  We walked back down the stairs so that I could meet Blaine's family.  They were standing near the pool, watching the fireworks.  Blaine introduced me to the three of them, explaining the mix-up, and all three of them smiled in relief.

“Ooh, baby, he's gorgeous,” Mrs. Anderson said.  “You two are going to have a glorious time in bed together.”

“Mom!” Blaine protested, blushing deeply.

“You are.  Bet he'll be a tiger in the sack.”

“That's enough, Pam,” Mr. Anderson said.  “They're fifteen years old.”

“Now you are what I expected for my brother,” said Cooper, pointing at me.  “Not the weird old guy.  Not that he was all bad.  He taught me how to ride a motorcycle, so I can put that on my resume.”

“Are you going to put on your resume that you fell off it three times?” Blaine grumbled.

“That's not a bad idea, Squirt.  I can show off my stuntman experience.”

Mr. Anderson watched me and Blaine, glancing down at where we were tightly gripping each other's hands.  “I'm assuming you boys would rather not be here,” he said, not unkindly.  “Do you want to go back to Kurt's house?  Spend some time getting to know each other?”

Blaine turned to me with a hopeful expression.  “Do you want to?”

“I got a ride here with BJ,” I told him apologetically.  “I don't have a way to get back.”

“You can use my car,” Mr. Anderson said.  “I'll have my driver take you.”

“Your car?  But how will you get home?”

“We'll catch a ride with Cooper.  As long as he doesn't try to break the sound barrier on the way.”

Cooper gave him a thumbs-up.

“What do you think, Kurt?” Blaine asked.

I watched the lights from a firework flicker in his beautiful eyes.  “I think I don't ever want to say goodbye to you.”

We hugged the Andersons and headed out to the front of the house, where Mr. Anderson's driver was waiting for us.  I sent two quick texts as we pulled down the driveway — one to my dad to tell him that I was leaving for home, and one to BJ to let her know that I didn't need a ride back.  Then, Blaine and I relaxed, holding hands and gazing at each other with dopy smiles.

“This started out as the worst day of my life,” he said.  “And now it's the best.  How did that happen?”

“Fate,” I said, lifting his hand to kiss his knuckles.  "I guess we shouldve had faith after all."

We talked about what was in store for our future.  Both of us wanted to go to college in New York City, to our mutual delight.  We imagined our future apartment, and debated whether we should adopt a cat or a dog.  

“Dogs are better with kids, down the road,” he said, and I felt my neck flush.

“You want to have kids with me?”

“I want everything with you,” he said fervently, and I kissed him again, and again, and again.  

The lights were still on in the living room when we reached my house.  We walked up to the door, opening it to find my dad sitting in front of the television, watching a New Year's Eve special.

“Five minutes till midnight,” my dad said.  “I'm surprised she let you out of her clutches in time to...”  He trailed off as he caught sight of Blaine.  “Kurt?” he asked, standing up and walking toward us.

“Dad, this is Blaine Anderson,” I said.  I turned to ask Blaine to take off his glove, but he was already lifting his bare palm to show my dad.  I saw my name again, glinting in its silvery script, and it took my breath away all over again.

Dad pressed a hand to his mouth, closing his eyes briefly.  When he opened them again, they were glassy with tears.  “Soulmates?”

“Soulmates,” I nodded.

“Oh, thank god.”  Dad swallowed heavily, clearing his throat.  “Thank god.  Oh, kid, come here.”  He caught me in a bear hug, and I felt my own throat grow tight with emotion.  When we separated, he swiped his hand across his eyes without shame.  “I'm so happy for you.”

“Us too, Dad,” I murmured, looking back at Blaine.  “Were happy too.”

Dad looked back at the TV.  “You boys want to watch the ball drop with me?”  He turned back to catch the look between me and Blaine, and laughed at us.  “No, you want to go be alone together, don't you.” 

“Just to hold each other,” Blaine said quickly.  “Would you mind if I slept in Kurt's room tonight?”

“No funny business?” Dad asked.

“No, sir,” Blaine replied fervently.  “Kurt matters too much to me to rush things.  He matters more than anything in the world.”

Dad's eyes softened.  “Glad we agree on that.”  He paused, considering, then jutted his chin toward the stairs.  Blaine and I nearly tripped over each other in our haste to reach my room.  Then we stood quietly, wrapped up tight in each other's arms.  

“Will you think I'm ridiculous if I tell you I love you already?” I asked him.

“If you're ridiculous, then so am I, because I love you back.”  He leaned forward to kiss me again, softly and sweetly.  “Just to warn you, I'm just a silly romantic.”

"I wouldnt want you any other way."

The End