Title: Lách et Aman

Author: Psykogleek/Crazysnape

Beta : GayforKurt thanks!

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer:I just own words

Summary: soulmate


Lách et Aman

For as long as he remembers, nighttime has always been his favorite moment of the day.

He loves bedtime, not only for the stories or the cuddles before sleeping, but mostly for the dreams.

Indeed, if daytimes are often a bit nightmarish, nighttimes are wonderful, full of adventures, romances and friends.

He feels like one of the Sliders. Every night he jumps from time to time, changing his name and appearance but always knowing who he is and who the others are. They are four: Bû and Blàth, his friends, Lách himself and his Aman.

Aman is always there, every night.

The first time they "met", they were gladiators fighing for their lives and Lách lost his life saving Aman's. They get on the Mayflower, travel to the West for gold digging, meet in a market in San Francisco in the Eighties. During World War II he chose to love Aman at the expense of his own security. That is just a sample of all the lives they shared. They met, loved, fought, separated and died so many times that he has to write them down so they aren't forgotten.

Aman has been in turn his best friend, his lover, his wife, his husband. They seem to have been everything for each other but now, for a few days, they are nothing.

He only sees him in his memories or when he reads his notebooks. For the first time in his life, his nights are more like nightmares than dreams.

The following day is his first as a freshman, and he hopes it's going to be better than middle school. Why can't he have Bû, Blàth and Aman in his real life, even more now that he doesn't have them at night?

When he arrives at school he has a hunch, a feeling of déjà-vu. He glances at the dumpster and shivers, hoping that his dream doesn't come true. It doesn't for him, but for the redheaded guy just before him.

The feeling of dejà-vu follows him all day long. There is something or someone, somewhere that he knows, but he can't say what it is. So he keeps his eyes open, but nothing stands out – at least until his last class.

The lesson is barely beginning when the door opens, giving way to a boy with a Mohawk and a defensive attitude. As soon as he comes in, there is a shift in the atmosphere and the déjà-vu increases. The boy looks around him and heads to the empty seat on Kurt's right.

They look stealthily at each other all hour long without saying a word.

They are aware that something changed between who they were this morning and who they are now.

When the bell rings neither says anything; but Kurt finally finds the courage to act and quietly calls, "Aman?"

The boy, who was about to leave, turns around and, eyes wide open, asks as softly: "Lách?"

Kurt simply nods, smiles. No words needed, they know.

the end