Kurt hadn’t understood why his father had been so sad in the week before his mother died. He hadn’t known – it took some time before parents explained the date on their foot to their children. Everyone had one, without fail. And as far as it was known, no one had escaped their fate. Kurt’s mom had died on the very day she was meant to. She had practically embraced her fate, leaving the house alone when Burt held her hand and wouldn’t let go – literally begging on his knees, crying, while Kurt looked on, confused.

He had made a vow to himself, then, to never share his date with anyone, if at all possible, and to never know anyone else’s. It wasn’t fair. That wasn’t the way things should work – spending the last week or day you have with someone clinging too tightly and crying too much – dreading waking up in the morning when you should really be cherishing what little time you do have.

When he meets Blaine, the other boy seems to have something melancholy deep within his eyes almost always. Kurt thinks that it’s just the same sadness he’s felt – the reason Blaine ran away – the reason he’s at Dalton. It’s on that perfect day when Blaine finally says “You move me, Kurt,” that in spite of all of Kurt’s past discussions with him on the very subject, Blaine demands that he tell Kurt his date.

“It’s not fair to you, to not let you know. I can’t just sit here and watch you hope like that. This is why I was so scared, Kurt, I can’t do this to you. I was so afraid just to admit to myself what I felt because I knew how unfair it was. But watching you sing about Pavarotti that way, I just had to tell you. It wasn’t fair keeping it from you either. With the time we have left –“

“Shut up! Shut up, okay? I can’t do this. I won’t sit here and listen to you tell me the time we don’t have, because it will only make it hurt more.”

Blaine shakes his head. “I can’t just keep going like this. Every time I see that hope in your eyes… It’s killing me. Please.”

“No.”

They end the conversation, but they still walk away holding hands, so he knows that Blaine understands.

Kurt just spends every day wishing he didn’t even know his own number. He dies at 53, apparently. A little young, but that’s enough time to do what he wants to do with his life, especially now that he has Blaine. His boyfriend is proof that things can get better, and that they will before Kurt dies of heart problems – he’s assuming they’ll be hereditary.

After they’ve been dating for two weeks, Blaine shows up at the Hummel-Hudson household, dripping wet from the rain, with tears streaming down his face. When Kurt answers the door, he knows what Blaine is going to tell him, but he doesn’t stop him this time, and it still hurts like hell when the time is even less than he feared.

“Three months and four days. I had three months, two weeks, and four days on the day that we kissed.” Kurt feels the tears start to roll down his own cheeks as he lets Blaine step in and he moves closer to grip his wet shoulders like a life line. “I know it’s not fair to you. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Blaine. Don’t.” And then Kurt has his arms wrapped fiercely around the other boy, fisting his hands in the back of his thin shirt, and sobs are wracking both of their bodies.

That night, Kurt sits at a table, grasping Blaine’s hand tightly, and explaining the situation to his father.

Something shines in Burt’s eyes for a moment just before he tells the boys that Blaine can stay over at the house as often as he likes, and that Kurt’s curfew is lifted for the time being. Kurt thinks he sees a stray tear before his father excuses himself from their conversation, and he tries to smile about the fact that he has all the time in the next three months that he can have with his boyfriend.

The grin comes out twisted and weak, but it is a small victory. A small one. But it’s there.

They spend most of their nights together, just holding each other and talking themselves to sleep. Most of the time, they’re facing each other, Kurt’s hands on Blaine’s face and lower waist, Blaine’s hands in Kurt’s hair and on his chest. Their legs tangle together, but they always avoid their feet – their godforsaken feet.

Blaine transfers to McKinley, and he hardly ever goes home. Kurt wonders if his parents even care anymore – it seems that they buried their son long before his short life was over.

The physical side of their relationship still develops slowly. For over a month, they don’t go beyond kissing and just feeling each other, each just exploring how it feels to be wanted so much by another boy, and hating that there’s no way to stretch out the time they have together – it feels far too fast.

Once they’ve reached the mark where they only have one month left, and Burt and Carole have gone away for the weekend, Finn is at Puck’s - something inside of Kurt just snaps. They’ve been going further and further, but with so little time, and so much love, he just breaks.

They’re kissing, clinging like they always do – their shirts long discarded – when Kurt just says it.

“Blaine – Blaine I need you. Need you inside me – I can’t… I love you.”

Blaine freezes, but nods into his neck. “I love you, too.”

They fumble their way through it, half-clueless, and at first, it pains him so exquisitely that Kurt can forget why they’re moving more quickly in their relationship than Kurt ever would have normally – because he needs to do this with Blaine. He’s never trusted anyone else more.

He’s struck dumb when Blaine hits that perfect spot and he blacks out - time seems to freeze for the first time ever. If there was just some way to stay in that moment, Kurt knows he would never have to let go of Blaine, and they could just stay here in his bed forever, closer than they’ve ever been before. But that’s not how it works – that’s not how fate has things planned.

He just wishes that he could choose not to believe in fate – in these stupid digits. He wishes he consider them pointless scratches – numbers without real rhyme or reason that were just there. Maybe they were just coincidence, and they were escapable. But his mother’s death had taught him better.

The last week, they only leave Kurt’s bedroom for food and other necessities. Sometimes they’re just holding each other, sometimes not – and they’re nearly always in various states of half-dress.

The last day, Blaine does not embrace his fate with open arms. He stays in Kurt’s bed. That day, they don’t even leave for food or drinks or anything else. They see no one else, and they’re positively wrapped up in each other, mostly silent, but occasionally exchanging I love yous or memories of the short time they’ve had together.

When it’s nearing midnight, they’re kissing desperately, not knowing who initiated it, but each feeling like they need the other to breathe. When it strikes midnight, Kurt is looking at the clock and Blaine has his face hidden in Kurt’s chest.

When it turns 12:01, and their days together go negative, Kurt lifts himself up on his elbows and brushes a curl delicately over an ear. “Blaine?”

Hazel eyes blink open. “Kurt?”

They both weep, and neither of them understands. But their gratitude fills them to the brim and overflows. Blaine could die at any time – apparently so could anyone. But they have more time than they thought, and that time is worth everything.