Rating: M (future chaps)

Summary: TiMER AU. What if you had a timer that counted down to the moment you met your soul mate? Kurt's been waiting to find his soul mate and his happily ever after all his life. Things don't turn out quite when his soul mate turns out to be the snarky, arrogant Sebastian Smythe.

Warnings: AU obviously. Brief mentions to previous Klaine within the chapter.

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Kurt can still remember when he got his TiMER. He remembers the disappointment that came with it being blank. He remembers waking up each morning and staring at it, hoping for a change. He remembers zoning out in classes, watching it intently, not wanting to miss the moment his soul mate got his TiMER.

With high school came the bullying. Kurt never could decide which was worse: feeling like a punching bag or feeling invisible. His only hope was that his TiMER would save him. Waiting became an obsession. The only thing that made high school bearable was the thought that his soul mate was out there.

Somewhere.

It had been Burt's idea to cover up the TiMER. Kurt couldn't argue with him when he said the he could see the way it was eating at Kurt, becoming his life. There were people who had lost their lives waiting for their TiMER to start, and Burt said he wasn't going to let Kurt become one of them.

So, his TiMER had been wrapped up, and Kurt tried to stop thinking about it. It wasn't much later that he transferred to Dalton, and, when he did, he was able to move on, little by little. That primarily had to do with Blaine Anderson. Blaine Anderson – the gorgeous boy without a TiMER. Kurt's was convinced that Blaine was his one from the moment he saw him.

Kurt couldn't understand why Blaine didn't have a TiMER, and why he didn't want one. Blaine couldn't understand why Kurt was letting a machine dictate who he was with. It wasn't until they'd been dating for a year that Blaine finally agreed to get one.

Kurt also remembers the moment his TiMER stayed blank. Blaine's, on the other hand, beeped and came to life: 622 days, 14 hours, 22 minutes, and 23 seconds.

22 seconds.

21 seconds.

Blaine had given him a sad look – "this is what I was afraid of, Kurt. For the first time in Kurt's life, he decided that maybe the TiMER was wrong. If there was anything he was sure of, it was that he was in love with Blaine, and that was the only thing that mattered.

A part of him still worried that Blaine would find his match and leave. The more Kurt thought about it, the more certain he was. TiMERs had a guarantee. How was Blaine supposed to avoid falling in love? He was going to meet his soul mate in less than two years. It began to seem pointless dating Blaine if he was just going to get hurt.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise when Blaine broke up with him, yet it still did.

"You stopped trusting me when we weren't matches. This is why I didn't want to get a TiMER. You trust some stupid implant more than what you feel, and I can't take it anymore, Kurt. I can't watch you throw what we have away because you're convinced that I'm going to fall in love with someone else. I can't do it. I just can't. I'm sorry."

After that, time moved as if someone hit the fast-forward button. His joy in finding out he was accepted to NYADA was stunted by the fact that all it made him think of was the future he'd planned with Blaine – the one he'd stopped believing in a long time ago. Even his position as an intern at Vogue doesn't bring him as much joy as it should. Instead of living with Blaine, he moved in with Rachel, and he was back to step one: obsession with the TiMER.

KSKSKSKS

"I mean, I know that Brody's not the one, but he's really sweet, and he sings so well. Besides, I have a solid few months until I meet my soul mate. It's not like I'd be doing much with him. Of course, I'm saving my first time for my soul mate, but a little kissing never hurt anyone. Right? Kurt?"

Kurt glances up at Rachel nudges him. "Yeah, definitely," he mumbles out, stifling a yawn.

"It does… ?" From Rachel's confused tone of voice, Kurt knows he picked the wrong answer.

"No, it doesn't," Kurt says.

"You weren't paying attention at all, were you?"

"We were talking about Brody, right?"

"What was the last thing I said?"

"'You weren't paying attention at all, were you?'" Kurt repeats, earning a glare from Rachel. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "No, I wasn't. I'm sorry. Look, it's been a long day. Besides, Rach, I love you, but I can only listen to so much about this guy."

Rachel lets out a huff but nods. "Fine." As Kurt grabs his coffee and sips to fill the silence, Rachel's expression softens. "So, what's new with you? Anything new on the TiMER front?"

"I think I'm finally getting close to perfecting Mein Herr. And, no, Rachel, it's still blank. Just like it was earlier today." Kurt leans back in his chair and crosses his legs. "God, I miss Blaine."

"I thought you two were working at becoming friends again?"

"We're trying. It's hard. You don't date someone for over two years and have things go back to how they used to be just like that." He snaps his fingers and sighs. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"I'm sure your TiMER will go off soon enough. By the way, are we still going shopping?" Rachel sips at her coffee and raises her eyebrows.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea right now. C'mon." Before Rachel can put in a word of protest, Kurt stands up and moves towards the exit, his fingers tightening around the cardboard sleeve on his coffee cup.

Twenty minutes later, they're standing in Macy's, and Rachel's looking jewelry. Kurt taps his foot impatiently, glancing around. Macy's doesn't have the worst choice of clothing, but the jewelry section seems ridiculous. As he turns over a, multi-colored, diamond-studded brooch with the word "LOVE" written across it, he winces and wonders who would buy something like that. He places it back on the shelf, holding it further away from him with two fingers, as if it might infect him.

He's barely put it down before there's a tap on his shoulder. "Excuse me. I was wondering whether you knew where the ties and bow ties are," a voice asks.

Kurt turns around to see a boy about his age, dressed in a blue button up and jeans. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he looks down at Kurt with a look of impatience. Even with his arms crossed, Kurt can see that he doesn't have a TiMER. He cocks an eyebrow, and clears his throat. "Well?"

"I don't work here," Kurt says after a beat, turning back to the jewelry.

"Of course you do," the boy replies as if he knows Kurt better than himself. Kurt lets out a huff and clenches his jaw.

"No, I don't."

"You fit the type, princess."

"Oh?" Kurt's voice is clipped, and he hopes that the boy will get the clue and drop the conversation, but he just continues.

"Girlish, acting like you have a stick up your ass, and dressed like someone out of a fashion catalogue for men in their thirties." The boy's lips quirk upwards as if he's amused by himself, and he wets his lips.

Kurt bristles. "Third floor and to your left." Without another word, he turns around and starts looking at other jewelry.

"What?"

"Your ties and bow ties. Now, fuck off."

"Language, princess," the boy says, shaking his head. "It doesn't suit a fine lady such as yourself."

It's been a while since anyone's poked at his personality. Lima was full of closed-minded homophones. New York, on the other hand, is not. "And you're still talking," Kurt says, speeding up as he walks around a glass case, staring down at the rings.

"Are you looking for a ring for your girlfriend?"

"Are you looking for one for yours? I've heard gay guys have the best fashion advice," Kurt says, facing the boy and feigning excitement for a moment before glaring and turning around yet again.

"Good thing I'm gay, then."

Kurt pauses, his brow furrowing. "You're gay?"

"Well, I like to fuck men. Call it what you will," the boy answers, and Kurt cringes at the crudeness. The boy inches forward.

Kurt would say that he's kidding, but the boy looks serious. It doesn't make sense to Kurt why someone who was gay would make fun of him for being effeminate, but he doesn't know what to say.

"You're gay?" Kurt asks again after a moment.

"Not all of us need to look the part, babe. Some people were born better looking. What can you do?" He shrugs and smirks.

"You think you're better looking than I am?" Part of Kurt knows that he should stop arguing with the boy; he's hopelessly arrogant, and a little argument with some stranger isn't about to change that. Another part of him can't help but argue.

"Is that really a question?" He rolls his eyes and looks over at the escalators.

"Fine. Whatever. Go. Take your delusions with you."

"Aww, are you hurt?" The boy's voice immediately drops to a coo, as if he is talking to a no-brained puppy.

"Not even a little bit."

"Shame." The boy finally goes to turn and walk away, but, as he's doing it, he pauses. "Sebastian Smythe, by the way."

"Why are you telling me your name?"

"Well, you're going to want to know my name later when you're jacking off." He winks. "See you later, princess," the boy says and struts off. By the time Kurt can even think of a proper response, it's far too late.

"Who was that?"

Kurt turns around to see Rachel standing there, a small Macy's bag now in one of her hands. She tilts her head to the side.

"He's just some asshole who thought I worked here."

"He really rubbed you the wrong way, huh?" Rachel's eyes dart around before the two of them start heading towards the exit.

"You could say that, yeah."

"Well, you won't have to worry about seeing him again, at least. New York City's huge." Rachel shrugs before pulling out a small box from her bag. She draws out a diamond necklace and looks down at it. "Don't you love it?"

"It's not my taste," Kurt says as he crinkles his nose. "It's a bit gaudy." He coughs, and Rachel smacks his arm.

"It is not! It's elegant."

"If you say so." If there's anything Kurt's learned over the years, it's that there's no point in arguing with Rachel. Besides, they've always disagreed on fashion, even if Rachel has been getting better since moving to New York.

"I do. What did you need?"

"I needed a tan scarf to go with one of my outfits. I'd prefer not just plain tan, though," Kurt says, moving out of the jewelry section and towards the scarves and hats. He spends twenty minutes looking through all of them. There's one that he finds with a nice pattern, but it's not the right quality – "I didn't come here to buy a polyester scarf that's going to start fraying at the edges."

In the end, he finds a tan and brown striped scarf that he likes, made of cashmere. It's a bit more costly than he hoped for, but he buys it anyway. On their way out, they pass the bow ties and ties, and Kurt can't help but think about that boy. He snorts and shakes his head, wondering how anyone could act like that.

He can't help but wonder and pity whoever his one is. For the sake of everything else, Kurt hopes that boy never gets a TiMER.

KSKSKSKS

Kurt walks into work exhausted. He stayed up last night watching Sex in the City. It's been difficult to get to sleep recently. As he sits himself down at his desk, he glances at his TiMER. Even though he already knows that it's going to be the same – he never heard the beep of it starting – his stomach still drops in disappointment.

"I have a surprise for you tomorrow."

Kurt looks up to see Isabelle beaming at him. "Oh? What is it?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, but I'm thinking it should cheer you up." She taps the bottom of Kurt's chin and sits at the edge of the desk. "You've been looking down lately."

It's hard to talk with Isabelle about it. Her TiMER says that she still has eight years, so it seems selfish to complain. Instead, Kurt shrugs. "I've just had trouble sleeping." It's true; he just excludes the reason.

"Darling, you just need to have a little fun. There's a party next weekend. Nothing too serious. Just a little soiree. You're officially invited." She grins before getting up. "I should go back. I just wanted to let you know of your little present."

Kurt watches her walk out and opens his laptop and pulling on his headset. There's an e-mail in his inbox from Blaine, and he scans over it.

Dear Kurt,

I'm sorry it's taken me two weeks to get back to you. I've been busy with school. I'm going to New York over winter holidays, which is kind of far away, but if you're up for it then, I wouldn't mind grabbing a cup of coffee with you.

Seen any Broadway plays? Any luck with your TiMER yet?

All the best,

Blaine.

Kurt's stomach drops. Talking to Blaine is like talking to a stranger. He remembers staying up until four in the morning, talking about anything and everything with Blaine. Fears, insecurities, hopes, desires – nothing was taboo with them. And now it was like talking to a distant relative. He stares at the messages a moment longer, hoping that some hidden text will appear, something reminiscent of the past Blaine, but nothing does.

He exits out and shakes his head. He'll reply to it later. Now he needs to focus.

KSKSKSKS

When Kurt comes to work the next day, he's curious about what his surprise is. He has no clue what Isabelle could get him, probably some sort of article of clothing. To be fair, he's always found shopping and clothes therapeutic.

However, there's no package on his desk, and Isabelle doesn't come waltzing into his office like she did yesterday. Kurt puts on his headset and goes to work, wondering when she was going to show up. As the day passes, he can't help but think that maybe the gift was made up.

It isn't until six o'clock that there's a knock on his door. Kurt looks up to see Isabelle beaming at him. "I'm sorry it took so long. He's running a little late, but that's okay." She waves her hands about in excitement, and Kurt's brow furrows.

"He?" Several possibilities run through his head. Is Isabelle trying to set him up with someone? What's the guy doing here, and is it even appropriate? "I don't – You know how I feel about all of this. I need some space before I date anyone."

"Date?" Isabelle looks momentarily confused before laughing. "Oh, no! I'm setting you up. He's quite hot, though." She nudges Kurt. "It's more something… fun. I got you a job working with a new model of ours. He's a little arrogant, but, then again, which models aren't?"

A flush spreads across Kurt's face. He feels silly for assuming. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed." He cleared his throat. "When do I get to meet him?"

"Now. He's waiting in another room," she says, lifting her shoulders up as she continues to grin.

Kurt gets up, following Isabelle down the halls. Obviously, she's excited about this new plan. Part of Kurt can't help but wonder whether the model has a TiMER. It's silly to think that, but if what Isabelle's saying is true, they have a chance at working well together. And if he doesn't…

Isabelle stops in front of a closed door. "Are you ready?"

With a tired smile, Kurt nods. He can't help but hold his breath, hoping. His eyes flicker down to his wrist for a brief moment before the door opens.

"Kurt, meet Sebastian Smythe."