disclaimer: without prejudice. the names of all characters contained here-in are the property of FOX and Ryan Murphy. no infringments of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.

characters/pairings (all): Sebastian/Blaine, Tina, Sam, Santana, Hunter, Dottie, implied Sebastian/Adam, Cooper/Charlie Darling

author's notes: soulmates!au, written for day 7 of Seblaine Week: soulmates. inspired by Win a Date with Tad Hamilton, but you don't need to see the movie to understand the story. title taken from Burn by Ellie Goulding.

(BURNING) ONE HELL OF A SOMETHING;;

chapter one

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The room smells like popcorn, sugar, and sweaty bodies forced together in close quarters, but it's part of the small movie theatre's charm. He sits comfortably encased between his two best friends, Sam and Tina, the latter clutching his arm as tightly as he clutches her hand. The movie they're watching, If Only She Knew, draws to an emotional close and he's not too ashamed to admit his heart thuds loud in his chest and his eyes started watering.

"He's coming back for her," Tina whispers, resting her head on his shoulder. "I know he is."

On screen the movie's lead character, Sarah, gets out of her last class of the day and walks down the hallway, books hugged close to her chest, her gaze a million miles away, melancholy and sad; he's always admired how much emotion Quinn Fabray, the actress, manages to convey with nothing but a look, something she's done masterfully throughout the entire movie. Sarah exits the building, but halts in her tracks, staring at a fixed point off screen.

Everyone in the audience knows what's coming.

Sarah stands frozen while the next shots skips to another character's feet, the music swelling and his heart races; the camera pans up ever so slowly, along jeans-clad legs and a long lean body lounging back against a red convertible. His breath hitches when the male lead's face comes into view; Sebastian Smythe, 22-year-old Hollywood actor and new star on the rise, green eyes, flawless complexion interrupted by beautiful freckles, and probably his biggest celebrity crush ever.

"What are you doing here?" Sarah asks, uncertain.

Sebastian's character, Shaun, drawls a slow sloppy smile, one that could melt anyone's heart. "You didn't think I'd let you get away, did you?"

Sarah takes a few quick steps towards Shaun and falls into his arms. "Oh Shaun, can you ever forgive me?"

"Baby, you're my soulmate," Shaun says, and the entire female audience swoons (and yeah, him too) – Tina sighs contently and unconsciously traces a finger over the inside of her left wrist. Shaun pulls Sarah close. "There's nothing to forgive."

Tina squeals and he wipes at a tear as Shaun's and Sarah's lips meet and the soundtrack takes off, the camera slowly drawing back further and further until they get a bird's eye view of the scene, credits rolling onto the bottom of the screen.

He releases a slow even breath, still caught up in the magic of the movie and the theatre, and somewhere deep down a longing he recognizes as a silly crush, but couldn't quell even if he tried. He can't help it, Sebastian Smythe was a goodlooking guy in an almost pretty sort of way, one that stood out in the slew of other hot actors just because he had this seeming charm about him whenever he got interviewed – he often stayed up late to catch livestreams of his red carpet events, all in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Sebastian, and felt this odd ache in his chest realizing Sebastian would never know him, he'd never meet him, he was as unreachable to him now as the cookie jar used to be to the hungry five-year old who had to get his brother to steal it for him.

The vestiges of a celebrity crush weren't new to him, he grew up harboring crushes on Luke Skywalker and later Han Solo, with the odd crush on Patrick Swayze in both Ghost and Dirty Dancing, so these feelings for Sebastian weren't exactly new – there were crushes before him and there'd be plenty more after him, no doubt, unless his Mr Right was in fact so right that he'd erase any past and future fantasies about freckled and sweaty half-naked boys right out of his mind's eye.

For now, though, or maybe until midnight tonight, there's no shame in mentally undressing Sebastian Smythe to his heart's delight.

"That was beautiful," Tina hushes, her face smushed up against his shoulder; she laces their fingers together and holds his hand. "I think this was my favorite yet. It was so romantic."

"Yeah," he sighs, sinking deeper into the deceptively comfortable tip-up seat. "The story and the writing, and the acting."

Words fail to convey his feelings right now; ever since childhood he was quick to get sentimental over cinema visits – there's something about the dark and shared space that captivates him every time, an individual experience that's somehow communal as well. He loves getting swept up in a good plot with larger-than-life characters that interact in a fictional world. It's a fully immersive experience for him, despite Tina's intermittent comments.

"What'd you think, Sam?"

Sam doesn't say a word.

Tina sits up and takes one look at Sam, nearly giving him a heart attack when she shouts, "Samuel! Evans!" for the entire theatre to hear, which makes Sam flail up in his seat, mumbling, "Hmpf, w'asgoingon?" in a single breath, before he realizes the movie has come to an end. "Oh, thank God."

"You fell asleep?" he asks, much calmer than Tina, though he's sad Sam apparently failed to have a good time, and more than a little perturbed that Sam still feels the need to utter his dislike; if he didn't want to see the movie, he shouldn't have come.

"I don't know why you keep dragging me to this guy's movies." Sam draws a hand up and down his face to chase away any residual sleepiness. "They're all the same."

"No, they're not!" Tina exclaims, cutting him out of the conversation entirely when she reaches over and pinches Sam's arm. "Sebastian's range is amazing!"

Sam scowls at Tina while rubbing over the sore spot on his arm, and looks at him, knowing full well Tina would do anything to defend her best friend's celebrity crush, not that she particularly dislikes anything Sebastian's done. "I don't understand what you see in the guy."

Tina giggles. "His abs."

He shakes his head lovingly, sitting up between his two friends before any more bodily harm can be done. "Make fun all you want," he says. "I'm not blind, I know about his reputation. But he's an out and proud gay celebrity and he doesn't apologize for anything. I can admire that and his abs all at the same time."

Sam and Tina fall silent at that, and seemingly decide that maybe they should let him have this night; they're out celebrating his eighteenth birthday, after all.

At Breadstix they sink into their usual booth, Sandy the waitress taking their usual orders with her usual smile, but like much else in town it's familiar, which leaves pleasantly warm melancholy and nostalgia simmering in its wake, especially now that he's set to leave after the summer – he looked forward to college, but unlike Sam or Tina he never felt the overwhelming need to leave Lima. His family lived here and so did his friends, and even though his older brother Cooper was among those who couldn't wait to get out, he's grateful he'll still have Tina around at college. They never planned on attending the same college, but when they both got accepted to Brown and it offered degrees in their respective dream careers, it was an opportunity they couldn't pass up.

Their drinks arrive first, and Sam raises his glass to toast, but makes sure they're the only ones who actually hear him say, "Happy birthday, buddy," because he'd rather avoid having the entire staff singing him a song – Manny, one of the cooks, fancied himself a rockstar, but was as tone deaf as a parrot.

His actual birthday was tomorrow, but due to a lack of any other interesting things to do on a Friday night in Lima, Ohio, and tomorrow's undoubtedly life-changing news, most seventeen-year-olds decided to celebrate one day earlier. In the morning, five hours from now to be exact, he'd have someone's name on his wrist; not just anyone's, but his soulmate's. It's the single most important event in any teen's life and he'd spent his undivided attention scouring the net for that Mister Right. If his soulmate had any computer skills to speak of, that was, but who didn't this day and age? Unless he was much older than him, or, God forbid, much younger.

Most people got lucky, they found a soulmate who approximated them in age and socio-economic status but there were exceptions; his dad was nine years his mom's senior, while Charlie was several years older than Cooper – who's to say how old his soulmate would be. He imagines it's hard to have to wait for your soulmate if he's older; his father spent that time getting his college degree and earning money to provide for his future family. In the end, love transcends a great many things.

He doesn't dislike the idea of waiting, he could focus on school first and not live with the hassle of juggling that with a relationship, but patience isn't one of his greatest virtues and starting tomorrow that impatience will only grow.

There were horror stories too, people whose soulmate had died, whose soulmate moved to a different state or country or continent for whatever reason, whose soulmate was in jail or in witness protection and changed their name, whose soulmate was never found because they lived on the street and had no address, no social security number, no access to a computer or a phone or any way to reach out – steps were being taken by governments all over the world to make sure people didn't slip through the cracks, free sign-up services were offered so that someone might have some idea of certain people's whereabouts, but there were still plenty of ways for a person to get lost in the system.

The stories of those people who never got a name at eighteen scared him the most as a boy. It didn't happen often, sometimes it was a genetic anomaly that could be cured, but some saw it as a sign that the person in question was never fated into existence, that he or she shouldn't exist, that they were anomalies society couldn't account for – as a kid he used to wake up screaming, pulled from nightmares where he never got a name, his family rejected him and he ended up lost and alone in a big bad world that would never accept him. Cooper or his mom would hold him close and tell him everything would be okay, but he only started believing that the day Cooper woke up with a name etched into his wrist. If his big brother possessed the right genes to earn himself a name, then surely so did he.

So he's not too worried, any anxiety results from days and weeks and months spent anticipating the big day, when his soulmate's name would finally be revealed to him and he'd be in on the secret; he'd finally understand why Tina felt the need to run her fingers over the subtle tattoo whenever she felt happy or waxed romantic, something he still caught his parents doing when they missed their significant other; he'd feel the depth of certainty Cooper felt the day Charlie arrived at the train station in her platform shoes, standing a few inches taller than Cooper but quickly toeing them off so they'd be eye to eye – Cooper married Charlie eleven months into their relationship, a fumbling nineteen-year old barely capable of holding a job, and a stunning 5"10' brunette who'd encourage him to follow her to Hollywood where all their dreams could come true.

That kind of meeting left its mark on an impressionable nine-year-old, who'd stood on that same train platform clutching his mother's hand, finally seeing what all the fuss had been about these past few weeks in trying to get Charlie over and rearranging the house accordingly. Charlie Darling, his sister-in-law's maiden name, had kissed his forehead and snapped his picture, complemented his bowtie and smiled at him the way only Cooper had previously – like a little brother. And he fell in love with Charlie too, in a way, the way that little brothers did with girls who offered them a hand. He'd walked back to the car holding one of Cooper's and one of Charlie's hands, all the while staring up at them, marvelling at the complete lack of wariness in either their eyes.

He wants something like Cooper and Charlie have, uncomplicated and natural, their lives fell in line from the day they met, their hopes for the future similar and leading them to the same city, and even though Charlie had so far been more successful in her career than Cooper, it was coming up on their ten-year anniversary, and they were still as happy as any two people could be together. Charlie softened parts of his brother others might call vain or self-involved, while Cooper brought out a sweetness Charlie usually kept buried under her business woman exterior – he caught the two of them out on the porch swing on more than one occasion when they visited for the holidays, Charlie's legs in Cooper's lap, nibbling at his ear, Cooper whispering sweet nothings until he had Charlie shaking with laughter.

That's what he wanted, trust and intimacy paired with the love that came from being fated to someone. If Cooper The Cynic could find something like that, he's confident his own experience will be comparable. There's a reason he's called Blaine The Romantic behind his back.

"Did you really mean what you said earlier?"

He glances up from one of Tina's old Cosmos, his answer stuck around the pieces of popcorn he popped into his mouth. Sam dropped them off at Tina's because he had an early shift at the local Piggly Wiggly in the morning, but he'd sleep over because he'd much rather share his excitement with Tina than his parents; he loves his parents more than anything, but they'd researched Charlie right alongside Cooper when he got his name and barely gave him an inch of space to breathe – Tina would be all over him in the morning, but at least he'd avoid any potentially embarrassing situations.

"About Sebastian," Tina adds, joining him on the bed once she's changed into her PJs, a red tank top and matching polka-dotted bottoms.

He shrugs, swallowing before he says, "I like to think some of his reputation is exaggerated," and lies down on his stomach. He throws the magazine aside and tries not to think about it too much, he likes the idea of Sebastian as set up in his fantasies, a playboy with a soft side that shows after careful prying, a boy with his own soulmate right around the corner that would set him straight, who would make him see the value in loving one person and one person alone for the rest of his life – the tabloids can say what they want, that's the picture of Sebastian he has and they can't touch it, even if it was as big of a lie as the ones they sold.

"Cooper told me that over 50% of things you read in the tabloids is wrong, anyway."

Tina nods at that and returns her attention to the laptop perched between them at the end of the bed, playing one of their favorite Sebastian movies, The Wild West; the title could've used more finesse, but he never complained when Sebastian's green eyes peeked from under a genuine Stetson cowboy hat, accompanied by that cheeky grin he swears gets more perfect every time he sees it.

"He's so dreamy." Tina sighs, her chin resting in the palms of her hands, legs crossed at the ankles lifting off the bed every few seconds.

He scratches at his wrist, unsure whether or not he's imagining the slight itch right below the surface of his skin. Looking down at it there are red marks his nails left behind and no name, but it's there, waiting to reveal itself, unlocking in the specific strand of DNA that carried the soulmark sequence, and he's ready. He's so incredibly ready to find out who his soulmate is.

Tina closes a hand over his wrist. "Are you nervous?"

"Yeah," he breathes, heart beating that special rhythm of healthy nerves. "I'm going to know my soulmate's name tomorrow. That's–" He rolls onto his back, tries his best not to keep his eyes locked on his wrist for the rest of the night; that won't do anyone any good. "I've been waiting a long time for this."

"What if it's Sam?"

"It won't be Sam." He laughs. "Horrifying as the stories are, I've never heard of a straight guy being fated to a gay guy. Besides, I'm way past my crush on Sam."

Tina smiles knowingly but settles on the bed next to him, staring up at the ceiling.

His crush on Sam wasn't anything special; a few years ago, in a tailspin of teenage hormones and his first foray in underage drinking he might've realized Sam had an amazing mouth and full lips he wouldn't mind moving against his own, feel his tongue caress a wet path over his lips while the tips of his fingers mapped out Sam's abs – he'd scarcely avoided Sam noticing his pants tenting in an angle that left little to the imagination, and rushed home to wake up with the single deepest sense of shame. Only he started thinking about it, how it would be to have a boyfriend. Soulmate or not there were people who tried figuring it out before any name appeared on their wrist, and more than a few of his friends had experience with relationships. He's not sure he could stand the pain of giving his heart to someone and learning he wasn't his soulmate.

Maybe that's why crushing on a straight guy was a safe bet; he won't mourn his once-crush on Sam when the blonde receives his soulmark, he'll be happy for him and support him every step of the way.

"You know what this means, right?" Tina asks. "I can finally talk to you about Mike and you'll know. You'll know like everyone else does. I'm so sick of listening to Rachel going on and on about Jesse St. James and how she's headed to New York to be with him."

He turns his head. "Isn't that what you're doing with Mike?"

"Yeah, but Rachel isn't my best friend."

There are many reasons why he considers Tina his best friend, they share a lot of the same interests and have similar tastes in movies, books, sometimes even clothing; he and Sam share a love of video games and action movies, but every once in a while he needed to be able to talk about fashion or the theatre, or, as it turns out, Sebastian Smythe. They met in seventh grade, paired together by Miss Edwards, who taught chemistry at such a slow and boring pace he and Tina learned all about each other in the span of the forty-five minutes that followed their initial meeting – they'd been inseparable ever since. The Cohen-Changs were as used to him staying for dinner or sleeping over as his parents were to having Tina around the house; his mom called her the daughter she never had, which Cooper never thought was cute, but made Tina's eyes shine.

Tina got lucky with her soulmate; Mike Chang had known her name for a little over a year before Tina received her soulmark, but the two had quickly found each other on Facebook, posting pictures of their respective tattoos as proof. He'd marveled at the entire experience, witnessing two soulmates come together yet again, and even though he'd well past the countenance of a nine-year-old he couldn't help but stare wide-eyed and open-hearted – that's what he wanted: the initial wonderous meeting, the certainty of being exactly where he needs to be, the spark and wonder, and the undying belief that he'd never want or need anyone else, not like that.

Mike already attended college as a freshman at Brown, where he and Tina would be headed after the summer unless fate dealt him a different hand. They'd met up a few times, when Mike found the time and the funds to make the trip, but they'd been mostly long-distance for the better part of five months; neither seemed to mind, they found free time to call and Skype, slowly getting to know the other before becoming serious, and that fell in line with both their personalities. Mike came from a traditional Asian family, where the whole soulmate thing usually happened under the initial supervision of the parents on both sides – with Mike at Brown the Changs and Cohen-Changs had decided to give them room to breathe, since America generally lacked a strict adherence to any rules, and it'd benefited a paced friendship. But knowing Tina the way he does, he knows she's in love.

"It's going to be amazing, Blaine."

Up until now he's lived vicariously through Tina and Cooper, and he won't meet his soulmate tomorrow, probably not even the day after, but he's clung to this idea for so long that he could burst with it, with glee, with happiness, with nerves, because what if, what if, what if.

He rolls onto his side. "Let's talk about something else. Anything else."

Tina doesn't miss a beat, "What do you think Sebastian Smythe is doing right now?" she asks, and he giggles, before they tumble into a wild fantasy of an underground blacklight rave, Sebastian's body painted in pink and green and blue dayglo, writhing on the dance floor with that special grace he possessed; he'd trace his fingers down Sebastian's neck and chest, draw closer and closer until their lips brushed together and–

He buries his face in his hands and breaks out in laughter right alongside Tina until he has to catch his breath; he could never talk to Sam about stuff like this, sometimes you have to be able to joke around about other boys, and Tina's always too happy to oblige.

They finish watching the movie over a bowl of popcorn and some rum and cokes Tina secreted away earlier, whisper crazy nonsense and laugh so hard Tina's parents need to ask them to keep it down; they crawl into bed with Tina's computer and watch some of their favorite So You Think You Can Dance performances, and he tries his best not to check his wrist every five seconds or so.

Finally, somehow, they both doze off.

He startles awake at seven in the morning with the odd sensation that he's forgotten something, like maybe he accidentally forgot to pack a clean set of boxers or left his toothbrush in its designated place in his own bathroom. Running his tongue over his teeth he decides it's not either of those things, but the nagging sense continues, pulses through him until finally he's awake enough to realize–

He's eighteen years old today, there's a soulmark on his wrist, he's gained something incredible in the span of a few hours sleep, a name that he's been carrying with him all this time and will finally be revealed.

Next to him, Tina tosses the sheets back, snores a short, "Hmpf," and finds a more comfortable position to sleep in.

Slowly, as if the movement could offer an escape to the thin lettering, he pushes the duvet back to release his arm. He sits up and rubs at his eyes with one hand, blinking away sleep before he even dares to take a look. This is it, the moment of truth, he'll have a stranger's name on his arm that he'll research until he has some answers, but even if he can't find him yet he'll be one step closer. One step closer to his soulmate.

He swallows hard and looks down, heart beating in his ears, eyes catching on the first and last name now permanently tattood on his wrist. A name… a name he knows.

This can't be.

He scratches at his skin, blinks another few times, shakes his head and pinches his thigh until he's sure he's awake.

And no.

Oh. No.

Holy shit.

Right beneath his fingertips, in a cursive no computer model has ever managed to approximate, there's a tattoo one inch by half an inch, spelling out a name scribbled so often in the margins of his notebooks he'd recognize it by shape alone.

Sebastian Smythe.

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to be continued

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