Chapter Text
Saturday April 30th 2011
Kurt Hummel stretched as he woke. His limbs felt weird and stiff, and he sighed at the feeling of his muscles untensing at the action. It didn't quite shake the feeling of weird out of his body, though, and he frowned. Eyes still closed he took stock of his body. He wiggled his toes and the action made him frown immediately, because he was certain he hadn't worn socks to bed last night.
He never wore socks to bed, not even in the dead of winter with broken heating and snow blanketing the ground outside.
He stretched again, and could tell instantly that these were not his 300 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. Nor was he wearing the satin pajamas he had gone to sleep in. In fact all he was wearing were a pair of loose boxers, a worn soft t-shirt, and the aforementioned pair of socks.
He immediately knew where he was, where he had to be.
After almost exactly two years of waiting he'd woken up as his Soulmate, who was destined to be the most important person in his life.
The Switch occurs once the youngest of the Soulmate Pair falls asleep after turning 16. It doesn’t matter if the older half of the pair is awake or asleep, or where they are in the world, they immediately Switch. The Soulmate Pair stay Switched for four weeks, living within their Soulmate’s body for exactly 672 hours - 28 Days. Once Switched Back the true nature of the Soulmate Match reveals itself as a multicolored Soulmate Mark on the left wrist.
The Soulmate Marks can contain any of the following 10 colors to varying degrees. These 10 colors are what dictate the type of Soulmate Match the Soulmate Pair are destined to have.
Red - Eros - for a Match destined for sexual desire and/or passionate romance.
Orange - Philia - for a match destined for strong friendship.
Yellow - Agape - for a Match destined for selflessness and compassion.
Green - Storge - for a Match between family members.
Blue - Ludus - for a Match destined for playfulness.
Indigo - Pragma -for a Match destined for commitment and understanding.
Violet - Mania -for a Match destined for obsession.
Gray - Phobia - for a Match destined for fear.
Black - Misia - for a Match destined for hatred.
White - Philautia -where a mark appears on the skin without a Switch, meaning that one’s soulmate is themself.Most Soulmates have multicolored marks though it is possible to have marks of only one color.
There are many different superstitions surrounding Soulmates. In Ancient Greece, when Soulmates became more prevalent and the different Matches were named, it was believed that the Moon Goddesses - Selene, Artemis, and Hecate - watched over you as you spent four weeks in your Soulmate’s body, conspiring with the Goddesses of Fate - The Moirai - to decide what type of Match would be best for the Soulmate Pair. This belief was due to the 28 day long Switch, the same length as a Moon Cycle.
Due to this astrological connection, in more modern times, a lot of people turn to their birth charts to predict their Matches as well as their horoscopes. They look at the position of the stars, and the planets, and the phase of the moon at the time of one’s birth, as well as the predicted positions and phase on one’s 16th birthday, and extrapolate from there. Often these predictions come to pass, and often they do not.
Kurt, if you were to believe the birth chart predictions, was destined to a Phobia Match. But he didn’t believe all of that nonsense. He refused to believe his Soulmate was one of fear. Refused to believe that what he was destined for in life was more hurt.
The Universe had given him too much hurt already; losing his mother young, being bullied relentlessly for most of his childhood, being friendless and alone. He felt he deserved a Match like the one his parents shared - yellow and red with subtle hints of Ludus blue. Longed for anything but Phobia, Misia, or Mania - the undesirable Matches. When Kurt had woken up the day after his 16th birthday in his own body he’d even immediately looked for white trailing up his wrist and onto his palm, because even being his own most important person, alone like always, was better than Misia, Phobia, or Mania. Of course, there hadn’t been one, so instead he’d waited, and hoped.
And here Kurt was, finally in his Soulmate’s body, and so far everything seemed fine.
Okay, sure, his Soulmate wore socks to bed, but that wasn’t an immediate red flag in Kurt’s mind. He couldn’t really get a feel for who his Soulmate was just by how they slept - though honestly, hadn’t they been somewhat expecting The Switch? They could have put some effort into their sleep clothes. Kurt had, on the night of his 16th Birthday two years ago.
Almost exactly two years ago, in fact. His 18th Birthday was in 28 days. Which meant he would still be in his Soulmate’s body on his Birthday, would Switch Back that night. If he was into all the Planets and Astrology nonsense he’d think the timing was something cosmic, but he knew it was probably just a coincidence.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d laid in his Soulmate’s bed with his eyes closed, but he knew he should probably open them and figure out who they were.
One thing he knew, even without opening his eyes, was that his Soulmate was male. The familiar anatomy he could feel in the loose boxers told him that much at least. Though the hair tickling his Soulmate’s neck as he turned made him doubt that assessment for half a second, until he remembered his Soulmate’s sleep attire.
He wanted to know more, even as his Soulmate’s heart raced in his Soulmate’s chest, so he opened his Soulmate’s eyes.
Above him was a popcorn ceiling, crisp and clear, so he knew, at least, that his Soulmate had good vision. There were cracks across it, though, and an ugly and outdated looking ceiling fan. It didn’t really look like something you would find in a teenage boy’s bedroom, and as he looked around the room he realized why.
He wasn’t in a bedroom at all.
Kurt frowned as he sat upright in the bed, The scratchy bedsheets fell away from his Soulmate’s chest, and he rubbed at his Soulmate’s eyes with his Soulmate’s hand.
The orange wood paneled room around him didn’t disappear.
What was his Soulmate doing in a Motel room?
It wasn’t empty, either, but filled to the brim with suitcases. There was a queen bed, and a small twin bed against one wall, with two twin trundles lined up against the wall in front of them. The space between the actual beds was filled with open suitcases, sleeves and pant legs hanging out of them, wrinkled. Kurt was sitting in the twin, the queen was neatly made. One of the trundles was unmade and messy, the bedding a hot pink, and in the center of it was a worn looking monkey plush haphazardly on its side. The other trundle was neatly made with Superman sheets, a lion plush tucked into it as though asleep. A small kitchenette was on the opposite side of the room, a tiny two seater table under the window.
Were they living here? Kurt wondered, and his heart ached for his Soulmate. He wondered why they were in this sort of circumstance, wondered why they had woken up alone on the morning after their 16th Birthday. Kurt had expected overbearing parents asking him questions, or an annoying sibling, but instead he was alone.
Like usual.
He hated to think that his Soulmate was alone like he was.
Taking in more of the room, however, he realized that, while his Soulmate had woken up alone, he obviously hadn’t been completely forgotten on his birthday the day before. On the wall behind his bed was a homemade banner with Happy Birthday written in crayon. And on his nightstand were numerous cards.
Kurt picked the largest one up, and frowned slightly as the words upon it seemed to swim in his vision. It took him a few more seconds than usual to read the terrible pun on the front of it, but he let out a soft chuckle as he did.
He debated opening it, wondered if it would be rude, but then remembered that he would be in this body for a whole month, so there were going to be some things he would have to do that would definitely be worse than reading a stranger’s Birthday Card.
Dear Sammy, it read in large looping letters. We know this isn’t exactly how you wished your 16th Birthday to go, but we are so so grateful to have you as a son. We hope you wake up tomorrow morning in the body of someone as wonderful and kind as you are. Love, hugs, and kisses, Mom and Dad xxx
So the motel situation was relatively new, Kurt inferred. And his Soulmate was wonderful and kind, at least according to his parents. And he was called Sammy, or perhaps Sam, probably Samuel, legally.
Kurt wondered what Sam was doing right then, in his body. Was he just as out of sorts as Kurt? Had he met his dad yet? Had he looked at his appearance? Did he like it? Did he like him ? Was Kurt the type of person Sam’s parents were wishing for their son?
Kurt placed the card back down and smiled at the two cards made out of construction paper and filled with stickers, obviously made by his siblings. The others mostly looked like generic cards people would get from their friends or relatives; one had a guitar on it and Kurt wondered if Sam played, another a football and Kurt hoped Sam didn’t play.
Kurt hated football players, and the sport itself, with a passion.
If he ended up with a football player as a Soulmate he was almost certain it would turn out to be an undesirable Match. Kurt didn’t really get along with football players, in fact they made up the majority of the people who bullied him relentlessly in school.
The McKinley High Titans.
The worst offenders were David Karofsky, Azimio Adams, and Noah Puckerman, but it wasn’t like any of the others helped him out, either. They usually stood by laughing as the main three shoved him into lockers, threw slushies in his face, or whatever punishment they decided to throw at him that day. He just knew those ones by their surnames - Strando, Chang, Evans, Brown, etc. The only one that was maybe somewhat decent was Quarterback Finn Hudson, and that was solely because he let Kurt take off his designer jacket before shrugging and letting the others toss him in the dumpster.
In freshman year this was enough kindness for Kurt to develop a giant crush on Finn. Last year, when Finn had turned 16, Kurt had woken up the day after his birthday in January with hope that he would be in Finn’s body and that they would be one of the desirable Matches. Obviously, that hadn’t happened, and Kurt had let his crush go, focusing on the drama that surrounded Finn’s actual Match.
Kurt was beginning to wonder what his Soulmate looked like - and also needed to relieve himself, wondering how to do so without feeling like he was intruding on Sam’s privacy; sure, this whole situation was natural and normal, but it still felt weird - so he got out of the bed.
His Soulmate, he noticed as he stood, was muscular. He also had soft hair that fell to just above his shoulders. He was broader than Kurt, Kurt thought, but around his height. He had guitar calluses on the fingers of his left hand, though there wasn’t any guitar in sight. His legs felt strong, like he would be able to walk long distances in this body without feeling tired. His teeth felt straight when Kurt ran his tongue over them, and his lips felt plush, if slightly chapped. He seemed attractive, so far. Kurt also noticed that he felt wide awake, energy thrumming in his veins instead of the lethargy he was used to before his morning coffee. He wondered if this was a side effect of The Switch or if his Soulmate didn’t need coffee to wake up in the mornings. If it was the latter Sam had a nasty shock in store when he woke up in Kurt’s caffeine addicted body.
He maneuvered around the clutter in the room, to the door he assumed led to the bathroom.
He blinked at the bright light as he turned it on, and sneezed suddenly. It was weird to sneeze in somebody else’s body, he realized, as he went straight to the toilet before looking at his Soulmate in the mirror. It was just as awkward to answer nature’s call as he thought it would be.
He didn’t look up as he washed his Soulmate’s hands in the sink, but did manage to spot blonde hair in the corner of his vision. He closed his Soulmate’s eyes as he situated himself in line with the mirror.
He felt a rush of anxiety course through his Soulmate’s veins, and he took a deep centering breath.
Kurt slowly blinked open his Soulmate’s eyes.
Green, his eyes were green. His hair was long for a guy, stopping just above his shoulders, an unnatural blonde judging by the dark blonde, almost brown roots. He had an oval face and straight nose, and his lips were full and pink and slightly chapped.
He would have been an attractive guy, if it weren’t for the fact that Kurt recognised him.
He knew, now, that his soulmate did, in fact, play football. And he played for a team Kurt was well acquainted with.
The face staring at him in the mirror belonged to Sam Evans, Second String Quarterback of the McKinley Titans.
“Fuck.” Kurt breathed out in the relative quiet of the motel bathroom, watching as Sam’s mouth moved around the word. It was a bizarre feeling, watching Sam’s body move in the mirror every time Kurt took a breath or shifted his weight. His voice was deeper than Kurt’s, not that Kurt was expecting anything else, but it made Kurt realize that he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard the guy speak before. Or perhaps his voice sounded different being in the driver’s seat.
Kurt turned away from the mirror, taking in more steadying breaths as his mind went down undesirable paths.
It was almost certain, now, that Kurt and Sam’s Match would not be a good one. How could it be, when the person whose body Kurt was in was part of the crowd that tormented him on a near daily basis? His birth chart had been right, he was destined to a Phobia Match.
He’d lost his chance at redefining his life and his self. He’d lost the hope he’d clung to so tightly for most of his life. He was destined to be defined by fear, his most important person was one of his highschool bullies. He wasn’t even his worst highschool bully, just a face on the outskirts of the group. Did it mean the bullying would increase? With Sam Evans at the head of it?
Kurt wasn’t sure how much worse it could all get. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to survive it.
He closed his eyes against the panic settling in his heart and left the bathroom, sitting heavily on the bed he’d woken up in. How was he supposed to spend the better part of a month living as Sam Evans?
He was roused from his thoughts by a knock at the door of the Motel room, and he jumped slightly, turning to face it.
“...Kurt?” His own voice sounded even higher outside of his body, because that’s who it had to be, Sam Evans in his body, because who else would know who he was? Who else would call his name at the door of a random motel room in Lima, Ohio?
Kurt’s heart raced as he quickly grabbed some clothes from what he assumed to be Sam’s suitcase and threw them on. It wasn’t his usual standard of outfit - a pair of loose fitting jeans, a hooded sweatshirt, and a flannel - but it was clothes, and in the layers, despite being in someone else’s body, Kurt felt more like himself.
He took a few deep, calming breaths and composed himself, years of experience ingrained in his mind even transposed into a new body, and he straightened up to full height. He adopted his own mask, buried the familiar, if softer, fear and anxiety behind an aloof exterior, and smoothed down the clothes adorning Sam’s body.
He couldn’t let Sam see how emotional this revelation had made him, he couldn’t show that weakness or vulnerability.
“Kurt?” Came his own voice again, and he cringed slightly at the sound of it, high and lilting and girly, as well as at the familiarity in the way Sam said his name.
And he opened the door.