Archive of Our Own

Michael doesn’t remember when he first heard about the colors.  His mum says he climbed into her lap one day to ask about the blue on the back of her neck, matching the light green in the crook of his aunt’s elbow when she held his mum for the first time.  She explained about how sometimes, you might meet a special person in your life, and that person will leave a color on you when you two first touch.  She explained about how her sister knows her the best in the world, and how it feels like their souls are connected, which is where the name “soulmates” comes from.  Some people get as many as 3 or 4 soulmates, but most only get one or two.  Sometimes they’re family members, sometimes they’re friends, and sometimes they’re lovers.

His mum only has the one mark from her sister.  His dad has two, one from his childhood best friend and one from Michael’s grandmother.

Michael doesn’t have any, and he wants one so bad he feels like he’s going to to burst.  His parents assure him that he has plenty of time to get one, and that even if he doesn’t have a soulmark that doesn’t mean they don’t love him with their whole heart.

He appreciates their hugs and kisses, but he wants a soulmate .  He wants someone who’s pieces fit his to make a pretty picture.  He wishes for one on every birthday candle, dandelion fluff, and first star of the night.

When Michael is seven years old, he gets his wish.  He gets in trouble in class, because the kid sitting behind him is a jerk and keeps poking him with her pencil and then cries when he yells at her to stop, so he gets moved to a seat in the corner next to a quiet kid who’s name he still doesn’t know.  He trips on his way to the desk and stumbles a bit, his shin knocking into the other boy’s because he’s keeping his legs out in the middle of the aisle.  Michael is about to snap, because he’s still upset about getting in trouble and now he’s just touched someone, which they’re not supposed to do because it’s considered rude to not wait for a First Touch because of the soulmate thing, but the deep forest green blooming across his shin distracts him.

It’s dark, standing out on his pale skin like he just spilled paint on himself.  He feels a flutter in his stomach at the sight, the color marking him like a brand.  The splotch is uneven around the edges, and he thinks it looks really pretty.  He keeps staring at it until the teacher comes over and he hears her ask him to sit down.

“You’re my soulmate!” he yells at the boy instead.  He’s got a red splotch, vibrant against his brown skin, and Michael loves the way it looks.  That mark means that this boy shares part of his soul. 

“That’s very exciting, Michael,” his teacher says, and she does sound a bit excited for him instead of using her fake voice that actually means she’s tired and wants them to do what she says (Michael doesn’t think he’s supposed to be able to tell the difference, but he can).  “If you take your seat and keep quiet for the rest of our lesson today, I’ll let you keep sitting next to Calum.  If you don’t, I’m going to have to move you again.  Don’t you want to keep sitting by your soulmate?”

He does, so he sits down.

“ Pssst ,” he whispers once the teacher goes back to talking about addition.  “Hey, Calum!”

“Shhh,” Calum (so that is his name) whispers back, glancing furtively between Michael and the teacher.  “I don’t want you to get in trouble and get moved.”

Michael pouts.  Calum sees him and looks sad.

“I just want to keep sitting by you,” Calum says.  “Please don’t be sad.”

Somehow, Calum saying that makes him calm down.  His soulmate doesn’t want him to be sad.  His soulmate isn’t telling him to be quiet because he doesn’t want to talk to him, but because he wants to keep sitting by him and Michael will get in trouble if he keeps talking.

He’s on his best behavior for the entire rest of the day.  Once class is dismissed, it feels like everything he contained bursts out of him at once.

Calum is shy.  He talks softly, and his smiles start small before they grow.  He has an older sister who typically stays with him while they wait for their parents to pick them up after school, but she has choir after school some days so he’s waiting with Michael today.  He really enjoys playing soccer.  His favorite color used to be yellow but now he says it’s red.  He likes music class or gym best, and his favorite food is macaroni and cheese.  When he grows up, he wants to be a professional soccer player or an astronaut.  Michael finds all of this out before their parents come to pick them up, standing close to Calum on the front steps of their school.

His mum arrives first, and when she sees the green on his leg and the matching red on Calum’s, she stops short and presses a hand to her chest.

“Michael, who’s this?”

“This is my soulmate Calum!” he says, grabbing Calum’s hand.  It feels nice in his.  “He’s super cool and likes music and playing soccer and can he come over?”

His mum explains that she has to ask Calum’s mother first, and Michael gets upset, especially because when Calum’s mum gets there she says that they can’t that day.  They set up a playdate for the weekend, though, and Calum tries to comfort him by saying that they’ll get to see each other all day in school.  When they finally have to part ways, Michael’s mom has to hold him by his backpack to keep him on course because he keeps turning around to wave.  It makes Calum giggle, and that sends a zip through Michael’s bloodstream.

-/-

The worst thing about being soulmates is that no teachers will let them sit next to each other anymore.  They got away with it for that first year, but every year after that somehow all of the teachers know before they come to class and always split them up.  It’s bad enough that he’s not in every class that Calum has, but in the ones they do have together he has to satisfy himself with making faces across the room and occasionally mouthing words at him.

Calum always knows what he’s trying to say, because he’s Michael’s soulmate and knows him better than he knows himself at this point.

One of the only things that Calum doesn’t understand about Michael is his immediate dislike of Luke Hemmings.

“He hasn’t even done anything to you,” Calum says, munching on an apple at the lunch table they’ve staked out as their own.  It’s on the edge, which Michael likes because he can see everyone, and it has a squeaky chair that he keeps messing with.  Calum could sit with the football team if he wanted, but Michael appreciates that he has never once considered ditching him for them.

“He doesn’t have to do anything,” Michael says, swirling a fry through ketchup and glancing at where Luke Hemmings is sitting at a table with his own friends.  “It’s his face and his attitude.  There’s something about him that bothers me.”

“He’s been perfectly nice every time I’ve talked to him,” Calum says.

“When have you ever talked to him?” Michael asks.  Calum’s friends consist of him and the football team for the most part.  He hasn’t heard anything about Calum being friendly with Luke Hemmings.

“We share classes, and alphabetically Hemmings is close to Hood.  We get seated next to each other a lot.”  Michael frowns and Calum elbows him.  “Stop it.  Don’t be prickly.”

“I’m not being prickly,” Michael sulks.  Calum rolls his eyes.

“Stop being mean to Luke unless he gives you a reason.”

Luke gives him a reason about three weeks later, when Calum runs up to Michael after school but before football practice with his elbow a golden color.

“I have another soulmate!” he says, practically vibrating with excitement.  Michael looks between his wide grin and the gold on his elbow and feels like he’s trying to shove two puzzle pieces together that aren’t meant to fit.

“What?” he asks.

“I got another soulmate!” Calum repeats.  “It’s Luke Hemmings!  We were assigned a project to work on together but it’s always boiling in the history wing so we both rolled up our sleeves and accidentally brushed elbows!”

“Luke Hemmings?” Michael says, the name tasting like ash in his mouth.

“Yes!  Isn’t this great?”

“No,” Michael says, because he has no filter.  “What the fuck, Cal?”

“What do you mean, “no”?” Calum asks, grin falling off his face.  “You’re supposed to be happy for me.”

“Why the fuck would I be happy about this?”

“Because this is a big deal, and as my soulmate you’re supposed to be happy for me when good things happen,” Calum says.

“Being tied to Luke Hemmings is not something to celebrate.  Like, oh, great, your soul is compatible with the biggest loser in school .  What does that say about you?”

“You’re such a dick,” Calum snaps, shoving him hard enough that his back hits the lockers, startling the breath out of him.  Calum hates fighting, and Michael isn’t used to being the subject of this level of anger from him.  He shoves him back, and a teacher suddenly appears and steps between them.

They both get detention.  Michael has to serve his right away, but Calum gets a lunchtime one due to football practice.  Michael sees him clench his fist, still unspeakably angry, but his eyes are shiny when he turns and heads towards the field. The teacher leads Michael to detention and he spends the whole time sulking and picking at his nails.

He can’t believe Calum has another soulmate.  Calum has been his since they officially met, and it’s not fair that Luke Hemmings of all people now gets to take him.  What has he done to deserve part of Calum’s soul?  What right does he have to waltz in here and rip him away from Michael, when Calum feels like all Michael has?

Michael knew that this would happen eventually.  Calum is amazing, and even now people recognize it despite his shy exterior.  Calum is eventually going to get married and start his own little nuclear family and leave him behind, but Michael thought he had some time before that would happen.  He thought that the colors on their shins meant something, but now Calum shares colors with someone else.

Maybe this is why he hated Luke Hemmings on sight.  Some part of him knew that he would take Calum away.

They ignore each other for a full week before Michael cracks.  Michael has to watch Calum sit with Luke at lunch, and exchange looks with Luke in class, and Michael eats alone and doesn’t really talk to anyone and walks home alone instead of waiting in the stands for Calum’s football practices to end so they can walk together.  It’s the most miserable week of Michael’s life, and he cries himself to sleep three nights in a row.  His mum asks him what’s wrong and all he tells her is that he had a fight with Calum.  She doesn’t seem to know what to do with that, because Michael and Calum disagree all the time, but they never fight.

On Friday, Michael and Calum typically have sleepovers.  Calum doesn’t come over at the usual time, so Michael asks his dad to take him to the Hood residence.  He’s not sure if Calum will let him stay over, but he misses his soulmate.  He at least needs to see him and try to apologize, and Joy can drive him back to his house if this goes horribly.

As it is, Mali answers the door and lets him in with a frown and a “he’s in his room, please get him to stop being miserable.”

Calum is laying on his bed when Michael pushes open his door.  He stares at him, but otherwise doesn’t move.  Michael can see the gold on his elbow clearly, but he can also see part of the red splotch on his shin.

“I don’t--” He stops and swallows.  “I don’t know how to be nice to Luke Hemmings, but I’m going to figure it out.  And I’m sorry about what I said.  I’m happy for you.”

“No you’re not,” Calum says, “but I appreciate you trying to lie to make me feel better.”

Michael is a horrible soulmate.  Calum doesn’t even sound mad anymore, just disappointed, and that’s worse.  He never wants Calum to be disappointed with him.  He never wants to let him down or fall short of his expectations.

“I will be happy for you once I get more used to it,” Michael says.  “I promise.  I just didn’t expect you to get another one so quickly.  I thought I’d have a few more years.”

Calum stares at him for another moment, then sighs and holds out his arms.  Michael’s relief almost buckles his knees, so he hurries over to the bed and flops down, nearly crushing Calum until they shift so he’s only half on top of him with legs tangled and arms around each other.

“I missed you,” Michael says into Calum’s neck.

“I missed you, too,” Calum says.  He runs a hand up and down his spine, and Michael could cry at how nice it feels.  “You’re still my soulmate, Mikey.  I always want you with me.  Just because I have Luke too doesn’t mean I’m going to spend less time with you.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Calum’s neck.  Calum hums and keeps rubbing his back.  Michael thinks he might fall asleep like this.

“I think Luke should sit with us at lunch on Monday,” Calum says.  Michael starts to groan, then cuts himself off because he’s trying not to be an awful person.  “He’s my soulmate, too.  I want you both to get along, and I think you would.  He really likes Good Charlotte and All Time Low and he plays guitar.”

Michael pulls himself just that much closer to Calum, hiding his face further in Calum’s neck in a way that makes him twitch because it tickles.

Calum is his soulmate, and being civil towards Luke will make his soulmate happy.  Besides, he still kind of owes Calum for being a jerk.

“Fine,” he mumbles.

“What?” Calum asks.  Michael pulls away slightly and glances up at him.

“I said fine.  Luke can sit with us at lunch, and I won’t be mean to him.”

“Thank you,” Calum says.  Michael hides his face back in his neck and exhales.  Calum starts rubbing his back again and Michael melts even closer, if possible.  Being close to Calum is his favorite thing in the world, and he missed it so much he can feel parts of his heart rebuilding at the contact.

Luke might have half of Calum’s attention once Monday rolls around, but for now, he’s all Michael’s.

-/-

Eating lunch with Luke Hemmings on Monday does not magically make Michael love him, but he bites back snide comments and puts on his best behavior anyway.  Calum does most of the talking.  Michael focuses on his food and ignores the unsure glances that Luke keeps giving him.  He answers questions when they’re directed his way, and Calum keeps their shins pressed together in a constant reminder of why Michael is bothering to do this.

Lunch continues that way for a week.  Calum still walks home with Michael, but he knows that his phone is full of text messages from Luke, and that they’ve been meeting up outside of school hours to work on their history project and hang out.

Their Friday sleepovers are still just for them, and that makes Michael feel better.  They eat pizza and play video games and poke fun at Mali even while she clobbers them both at MarioKart.  Michael pretends that he doesn’t notice Calum covertly checking his phone and replying to messages.

That night, once the house is asleep and they both are on the verge of drifting off, Michael climbs into bed with Calum, shifting so Calum is tucked under his chin in one of their usual positions.  They don’t do this every time they sleep over, and part of Michael wonders if they should have stopped by now.  His mom rarely gets to see her sister anymore and does fine with it, falling back into comfortable patterns seamlessly when they’re together, but Michael is always touch-starved for Calum.  They’re more wrapped in each other than the covers, and he’s starting to think that this could be weird.

Maybe he should start researching soulmates more, now that Calum has another one.  Is this normal soulmate behavior, to always want to be this close?  Do other people have issues when their soulmate gets another color?  How do they handle it?

The thought of Calum sharing a bed with Luke bothers him, and the thought of them kissing ties his stomach in knots.  For the first time, he makes himself consider that Luke could be Calum’s romantic soulmate, and that they could grow up to live together and spend all their time together and that Michael will turn into some sort of third-wheel.

Everyone says that each soulmate is equally important, but in an ideal world Michael and Calum would live together forever, until they’re old and gray and Michael has permanently damaged his hearing from listening to music too loud.  He doesn’t know how to factor Luke into this, and the idea that maybe Luke is the one who will get to share his house and bed and life with Calum makes him feel queasy. 

“What’s wrong?” Calum asks, his whisper seeming loud in the quiet of the room.  Michael almost startles, because he thought Calum was asleep already.

“Nothing.”

“You can’t lie to me,” Calum replies.  “Come on, Mikey.  We share everything with each other.”

Michael shifts his grip a bit, trying to find the words to say what’s bothering him without seeming pathetic.  In the end, he just bites the bullet and blurts it.

“Is Luke a romantic soulmate?”

Calum freezes.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like…” he takes a breath and tries to sort out his words in a way that will make sense, although Calum usually can discern the correct meaning from any gibberish that he spouts.  “There are different types of soulmates, right?  Some are your family, some are your best friends, and some are, like, husbands and wives and lovers and stuff.  Is he… one of those?”

Calum takes a long time to reply, and Michael’s anxiety compounds upon itself until his heartbeat is loud in his ears.

“I don’t know,” he says eventually, voice uncertain.  “I don’t even know if I like boys like that.  I mean, I guess things could change when we get older, but I don’t have a crush on him or anything.”

Michael tilts his head to press his lips to Calum’s hair and breathes him in.  It helps to calm him down as much as words do.

Michael hasn’t even had his first kiss yet.  Of course it’d suck if Calum already had the person he would spend the rest of his life kissing already.  That must be why the idea of Luke just being another platonic soulmate is reassuring, no other reason.

“Are you starting to warm up to him a little?” Calum asks.  Michael thinks about the stilted, awkward lunches and the strong jolt in his gut every time he glanced up and caught Luke looking at him out of the corner of his eye.  It certainly hasn’t been his happiest week, but he can admit that it also hasn’t been quite as awful as he thought it would be.

“Maybe,” he says.  Calum hums, then shifts to a more comfortable position.  Michael thinks about the way that they fit together, drawn like magnets and clicking like puzzle pieces.  He thinks about the colors on their shins, and how no one can take that away from them.

Michael drifts off to sleep with his soulmate next to him and a new resolve in his heart.

-/-

When Monday rolls around, Michael makes the conscious decision to love Luke Hemmings.  He’s the last one at their table for lunch, and the moment he sets down his tray he’s asking “So, Luke, how was your weekend?”

Luke blinks at him, looks at Calum, then turns back to him.  Michael raises his eyebrows expectantly.  He also wants to glance at Calum, but resists the urge.  This is about Luke right now.  He’s trying to show interest and become friends, and eye contact is an important part of indicating that you’re listening according to all of the teachers that have demanded it from him in disciplinary meetings or in class.

“Uh, it was okay,” Luke says slowly.

“Oh yeah?  What did you do?” he asks.  Luke looks to Calum again, then squirms and takes a deep breath.  Michael is given a rather bland account of Luke hanging out with his brothers and watching a movie, then spending some time with his mum helping her do the shopping and doing his homework.  He winces when he finishes and looks down on his lunch, like he thinks Michael is about to make fun of him.  Michael thinks it would be justified, but instead he just asks what Luke thought of the movie, then what he thought of that assignment in their science class, then his favorite animal.

It’s not a completely smooth affair.  Michael knows he isn’t the best at socializing, and their silted conversation and awkward pauses just emphasizes that, but Calum steps in when Michael and Luke run out of words, and it isn’t too bad.  Luke really starts to relax about halfway through, when Michael mentions bands and things flow easily between them for the first time.

Once they’re on a safe topic, talking to Luke actually kind of feels like talking to Calum.  It’s just as easy, but when he forgets to be on his best behavior and gets snarky Luke bites back without animosity, where Calum usually neutralizes.  Luke’s laugh is loud and honking, where Calum tends to giggle and wheeze when Michael gets him in stitches.  The first time he hears it, Michael feels such a rush of pride that he grabs Calum’s leg under the table.  He can’t remember making someone besides Calum laugh that hard, and it’s exhilarating.

“You know,” Luke says when they’re all walking to the next class, “you’re not bad, Clifford.  I don’t know why we didn’t like each other.”

“You’re not bad yourself, Hemmings, although you’re still annoying.”

Luke rolls his eyes, but Michael thinks he knows that he’s mostly kidding.  He catches a glimpse of Calum’s smile, and it feels good to have his soulmates approval, but it also feels good to have another friend.

-/-

Michael and Luke get on like a house fire.  After that lunch, Luke starts waiting outside Michael’s literature class so they can walk to the cafeteria together.  It’s a little thing, but it’s just the two of them, no buffer in the form of Calum, and it makes Michael think that maybe Luke is just as lonely as he is.  He knows that Luke is friends with other people, but maybe they don’t click as well as the two of them do.

Lunch easily becomes the highlight of his day, and Michael loves poking at Luke and joking with Calum.  As days pass, it feels less like he’s a third wheel and more like they’re a tricycle.  He still has the years of background and matching colors that define him as a Calum’s soulmate, but Luke has firmly fixed himself a spot as a friend, possibly a best friend.

Sometimes, Luke waits with him during Calum’s football practices, trying to get some homework done while Michael watches Calum run around the field and gets nothing done just to spite him.  Luke’s mum is a teacher at a different school, and he said that he likes waiting with Michael until she can pick him up rather than catching a ride with one of his brothers.  The admission makes him feel fuzzy, and he likes hanging out with Luke while waiting for Calum instead of being by himself.

“Yes!” he shouts when Calum scores a goal during the practice scrimmage.  Cal waves a hand at where they’re sitting, never breaking focus on the game.  He gets in a certain headspace when he plays that Michael loves to watch.  It’s one of the only things that can hold his focus as much as Michael can.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Luke says.  Michael glances at him, hunched over a math textbook like it holds the secrets of the universe.

“Of course.  Don’t you?”  Luke chews on the back of his pencil for a moment, then shrugs.

“I don’t think I know him well enough for that yet.  I know I will , because the colors say it should be easy and I want to, but not like you do.”  Michael scratches at his shin, and Luke’s eyes follow the movement.  He takes a deep breath, then frowns.

“Don’t take this the wrong way--”

“That’s not a great way to start this.”

“I was saying , you’re just really clingy with him, is all.  Like, you guys are almost always touching at lunch, and it’s like you spend every moment together you can.  And that’s not a bad thing!  But it’s just… an observation.”

“We don’t spend every moment together,” he frowns.  “My mum likes when he comes over, because she says I spend too much time alone in my room.”

He should probably feel embarrassed about that, but for some reason the admission feels safe with Luke.  Calum can’t be soulmates with someone who would use that against him.

“You’re still always touching when you’re together.”

“Well, I’m clingy with everyone I like,” Michael says.  “The only reason I don’t hang off you sometimes is because we haven’t had our First Touch yet.”

Luke looks back down to his textbook, but Michael catches a blush on his cheeks.  He scoots closer.

“Do you want to do our First Touch now?” he teases.  “Do you want a nice cuddle and lots of hand-holding and free reign to be as clingy with me as you want?”

“Shut up,” Luke says.  “First Touches are supposed to be special.  I know that the colors just indicate how compatible two people are, and that you can love people without them, but it’s still a big deal to take that step and see if you’re soulmates.  I want… I like it when First Touches are a big deal.”

“Calum met both of his soulmates because of accidental touches, you know,” Michael says.

“Yeah, but it’s not like we wouldn’t have become friends anyway.  The universe created us to be with each other.  If Calum and I hadn’t brushed elbows in history, we still would have had to work on our project, become friends, and then figured out we were soulmates later.  I’ve always thought he was really cool, anyway.  Don’t you think you would have still become friends with Calum at some point if you hadn’t ran into each other when you were kids?”

Michael thinks about how much of a hard time he has reaching out and making friends, and how shy Calum can be.  He’s not sure how they would have gotten close without the colors nudging them together, but he can’t imagine a life without Calum.  They would’ve had to find each other, somehow, but he doesn’t like the thought of losing a day of their friendship.

“Maybe me running into Calum was the universe’s way of pushing us together.”  He puts a hand on Luke’s leg, carefully on his pants so no skin is touching.  “If you want to wait and make it some big thing on the chance that we’re soulmates, that’s fine.  But if you want to, I’d be willing to smack you upside the head and see if your hair turns red.”

Luke snorts, but doesn’t move away.  Michael is struck by the fact that this really is the first time he’s touched Luke, but it feels comfortable.  He kind of wants Luke to give him permission for a First Touch so he doesn’t have to be as careful with it.

“Everytime I forget why we didn’t get along, you remind me,” Luke says.

“It’s because you have no taste.”

“No, it’s because I didn’t know how to read your humor before.”

“Nothing about this is a joke.  First touches are a very serious thing, Luke, and I’m going to try to dye your hair with mine.”

“Then you’ll just be jealous, because your mum won’t let you even think about dying your hair.”

Michael pouts, and Luke pokes him with his pencil and tries to cajole him into working on some homework.  He goes back to watching Calum practice instead, glancing at Luke out of the corner of his eye every-so-often.

-/-

“Cal?” Michael whispers during one sleepover, late enough that he’s pretty sure Calum is actually asleep.  Michael hasn’t been able to get his mind to stop racing, and he’s tired, and he needs to get this off his chest soon or he’s going to explode or--even worse--say something about it to Luke.

He’s been friends with Luke for a few months, and things feel comfortable and wonderful, like they’ve actually been friends for much longer.  Michael gets on exceptionally great with his mom in a twist of fate that surprised everyone, and they’ve spent a lot of time holed up in Luke’s room listening to music or playing guitar instead of studying.

Luke is actually really talented, and his voice is great.  Michael managed to convince him to start a youtube channel and post some covers, and it’s not completely tanking.  They’ve been talking with Calum about starting a band, and Michael gets giddy just thinking about it.

He doesn’t feel overly giddy now.  He feels like the weight of this secret he’s carrying is going to crush him.

“Cal,” he whispers again, a bit louder.  They’re sleeping in Michael’s bed, pressed close because Michael feels like Calum is getting busier and busier with soccer and family things these days.  He misses him, from the tips of his curls to the bottom of his feet.

“Calum, come on.  Wake up,” he says, shaking him a bit, and Calum finally groans and stirs.

“What do you want?” he grumbles.

“Calum,” he repeats, and Calum must hear how much he’s panicking in his voice, because he shifts so they’re facing each other instead of spooning, faces close and sharing the same pillow.

“What is it, Mikey?”

“I--”

“Breathe, come one.  Take a deep breath.”

Michael tries to comply, and Calum waits patiently until he can, rubbing his back in soothing circles.  He gets panicky and short of breath sometimes, and Calum is the only person who seems to be able to help anymore.

“Okay?” Calum asks once his breathing has evened out and the shaking subsided.  Michael nods.  “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Michael nods again, because as much as he doesn't want to vocalize it, he woke Calum up exactly for that reason.

“I want--I want Luke to be my soulmate.”

"Oh," Calum says eventually, once the silence has stretched on for a few breaths.  "You guys haven't had your First Touch yet?"

"Luke wants it to be a big deal, but I just--I just want to know at this point.  Like, what's the point of waiting to see if you're soulmates this long?  Now I have my hopes up, and then when we do eventually touch and there are no colors..."

"You don't know that," Calum says.  "Maybe you are soulmates.  Even if you're not, that doesn't mean that he won't still love you and you won't still love him.  Mali says that soulmates just tell us how easy it is to love someone, and you're the one who gets to choose how much you do."

Michael nods, because he's heard that before from his mum and from Liz.  Luke himself has talked about how sometimes he thinks he should have a soul mark from his mum, but maybe that just means that Liz is good at loving all of her sons.

"I don't know," he says.  "It feels like he should be."

"What do you mean?"

"Talking to him feels like talking to you."

Part of him feels like he's betraying Calum when he says it, because they have so many more years of friendship and the actual colors connecting them together, but it's something he's thought of a lot recently.  Calum is an old, comfortable sweater, but Luke is like a favorite pair of shoes.  They both fit him perfectly.  He feels more at home when either of them are around, and although the love he has for Calum is different, he thinks he could love Luke just as much.  He thinks he might, by now.

"Have you asked Luke about a First Touch?"

"No.  We talked about it a long time ago, but he hasn't mentioned it since and I don't want to bring it up."

"Why not?" Calum asks, voice soothing.

"What if he doesn't think we're soulmates?  Or he doesn't even want to touch me?"

"He almost tried to hug you when we were all at your house last time.  Caught himself before you noticed, but he's not against touching you.  I want you both to get this over with so we can have group hugs, actually," Calum says.  "I don't think he'll say no if you ask him, Mikey.  He really likes you, too."

Michael hums, curling closer to Calum.

"Do you think we would have been friends even if we hadn't gotten the colors?" he asks.

"Yes," Calum says immediately.  "We would have done it somehow.  The colors gave an indication, but you've been my best friend for years.  I'd be sad and miserable without you."

Michael nods.

"Even if you don't have the colors with Luke, you'll still be friends with him, and you'll have me forever.  It's okay, Michael."

He nods again and closes his eyes.  Calum shifts so their shins are pressed together, and Michael eventually manages to drift off.

-/-

"We should do our First Touch."

It's Luke who says it, and Michael stops trying to strum along with the next song they're planning to cover to stare at him dumbly.  Luke bites his lip, face flushing bright red.  He blushes easier than Michael does, and it's one of his favorite things to tease about.

"What?" he asks.

"I said I think we should do our First Touch," Luke says.  He shrugs, playing at nonchalance, but he's also avoiding eye contact, picking at a stray thread on his bedspread.

"I thought you wanted it to be a big deal," he says.

"It is."

"We're just sitting in your room," he frowns.  Luke shrugs again.  His bedspread must be really interesting right now with the way he's been studying it.

"It's a big deal because it's you."

Michael swallows.

"Do you think we could be..."

Luke shrugs yet again.

"I want us to be," Michael says, and Luke's shoulders drop in relief.

"Me too.  Even if we aren't, we'll still be best friends, though, right?"

"Promise?"

"Promise," Luke says.  He sets his guitar aside and Luke takes a deep breath.  Michael wipes his palms against his pants, hands suddenly sweaty and heart starting to beat erratically.

"How do you want to do this?" he asks.

"Elbows?" Luke asks.  "You'd match Calum's mark, and it's an easy place to reach."

"Okay," Michael says. He sits down on the bed, and looks at Luke expectantly.  "Do we just...?"

"I guess," Luke says.  "Are you ready?"

"Ready," he says shakily.  The air feels thick with tension, and Luke nods once, then takes a deep breath.  Michael brings up his elbow and closes his eyes right before he bumps it with Luke's.

Luke screams.  Michael is alarmed for a fraction of a second before he's being tackled in a hug and Luke's laugh fills the room.

"Soulmates!" he yells directly in Michael's ear.  "We're soulmates!"

"What the fuck!" Michael yells, shifting where Luke has him pinned to the bed so he can check their elbows.  Sure enough, his is now stained with gold, and Luke's is marked by a vibrant red.  Something inside him slides firmly in place.

"Luke?" Liz calls, throwing open the door a moment later and looking alarmed.  "What's wrong?"

"Soulmates!" Luke yells, and Liz deflates.

"You almost gave me a heart attack, darling.  I thought someone was hurt.  Let's see the marks, then."

Luke gets off him, pulling Michael up as he goes so they’re sitting next to each other.  He keeps holding his hand while they brandish their elbows, and Michael can't stop smiling.  Everything about this moment feels right, from Luke's delighted and uncontrollable laughter to the kiss Liz presses to his forehead when she says "Welcome to the family, officially."

"I can't wait to tell Calum," Michael says later, when they've calmed down a little.  "All three of us are soulmates."

"We're like a triangle," Luke says.  "Each side connected to each other."

"I fucking hate math," Michael says, and Luke's giddy laugh is possibly his favorite sound, right after the quiet whoosh of Calum’s breathing when he’s asleep.

-/-

The only downside to being soulmates is that sometimes they get made fun of for it.  It makes Michael’s blood boil, especially when the homophobic slurs and barbed words make Luke stop messing with Michael’s hair or Calum’s face fall.  He hates it, because soulmates are supposed to be a wonderful thing, and he can’t stand other people trying to take that away from them.

Most of the insults are inaccurate, anyway.  Michael had his first kiss with a girl, an unremarkable affair that was still pleasant enough, and Calum and Luke are straight, too.  It shouldn’t matter either way, but sometimes he thinks he would be less annoyed about getting insulted for making out with Calum or Luke if it was actually happening .

Michael fights back the most, because where Calum and Luke get sad in the moment, he gets mad and only lets himself be upset at night when the insults play in his head on a loop.  As such, he takes it upon himself to always protect them, and people usually leave them alone when he’s there.  The issue is that Michael isn’t always there.

“Are you okay?” Michael asks Luke, handing him the large soda they’re going to share and grabbing a bite of popcorn.  He watches the group that had been talking to Luke disappear into a theater, a mix of people he doesn't know and bullies he does.  They had been talking to Luke, and Michael booked it over there as soon as the concessions were ready, but it was more than enough time for someone to get a zinger in.  Based on Luke’s expression, they had.

“I’m fine,” Luke says.  “Zack insulted my glasses, but one of the others told him to knock it off and said he liked them.”

Michael winces, because Luke’s glasses wouldn’t look so bad if he hadn’t also gotten a rather tragic haircut to match.  He knows Luke doesn’t like wearing his glasses in general, but he needs a new prescription for his contacts, and it’s taking a while to order them.  As such, his dorky green glasses have been getting a lot of use for the past two days.

“The other guy was right.  Your glasses are fine.”  Luke levels him with a look that he definitely picked up from Liz.

“You were making fun of my glasses five minutes ago.”

“That’s different.  I’m your soulmate.  I’m allowed to do stuff like that.”  He starts towards the theater their movie is showing in, Luke trailing behind him.  “I can’t wait for Calum to get back and agree with me.”

“You can’t wait for Calum to get back in general,” Luke grumbles.  Michael presses his lips together, because Luke is right.

Calum has been in Brazil for five days, and Michael misses him like another limb.  He doesn’t understand how his parents can stand being parted from their soulmates, and he’s self-aware enough to know that without Luke he would be sulking alone in his room.  They’ve been apart before, a week of summer camp once and family trips every-so-often, but this feels different.  Calum is across the world, and Michael feels like he might never come back.  He’s at soccer camp, personally selected to represent Australia, and Michael has taken the past few days to come to terms with the fact that this might be Calum’s career.  If he wants to be a football star, he certainly has the skill and talent for it, and Michael might spend his life following him around and cheering in the stands, when he doesn’t even know what he wants to do for a career yet.

That’s a lie.  He wants to be in a band.  He wants to be in their band, the one that he, Luke, and Calum have been working on.  They have a name now, something that Michael came up with when he was supposed to be paying attention to math class, and they have a fair amount of fans on their youtube channel.  What would be better than traveling the world with his soulmates, writing their own music and getting to play it to adoring crowds?

If Calum choses football instead of music, that dream would dissolve.  He and Luke could try to do it by themselves, but it wouldn’t be the same, and life on tour loses its luster when it would mean being without one of his soulmates for months at a time.  He wants a career where they all could still live close enough to each other to randomly come over for dinner.  (Ideally, he and Calum would live together, and Luke would have the house next door.)

“I miss him, too,” Luke admits once they take their seats.  “We’re so fucking clingy.”

“Cal loves us for it,” Michael says, putting Luke in a headlock and giving him a noogie.  Luke squacks and squirms, spilling half their popcorn, and they get a few glares and admonishments from the people around them despite the fact that the movie hasn’t even started yet.

The movie is pretty good.  Michael spends the entire time cataloguing parts that Calum would like in order to determine if this is something he and Luke should take him to see when he gets back.  He drinks too much soda and leaves for the bathroom during the credits, and by the time he’s done washing his hands Luke is waiting in the parking lot for Michael’s mom to pick them up.  He’s got his hand up in a halfhearted wave when Michael joins him, but the truck is already too far away for Michael to see who’s inside.

“Who were you waving to?” he asks.

“Just the guy who was nice about my glasses earlier,” Luke says.  “Maybe we’ll see each other around sometime.”

“Maybe,” Michael says, and links their arms together while they wait.

-/-

When Calum finally gets back from Brazil, Michael is right there at the airport to greet him.  Luke wanted to be there, too, but his dad scheduled a dentist appointment for him before they knew the flight schedule, so they’re all meeting at the Hood residence later for a sleepover, jet lag be damned.  Michael bounces on his toes, trying to see over the crowd of people collecting their luggage, and Mali uses his shoulder as an arm-rest to keep him in place the third time he feels like he’s going to break out into a sprint soon with the extra energy.

“Mum and Dad get first hugs,” Mali says quietly, and Michael nods.  Michael will get all night to curl around Calum, and the Hoods just sent their baby to another country.  Just because they don’t have colors tying them together doesn’t mean they missed him any less than Michael did.

“I’ve missed having you and Luke around the house.”

The admission startles Michael enough that he tears his eyes away from the baggage claim to look at her.  He squints, but she just smiles in that soft way all Hoods are prone to.

“Mali-Koa, are you admitting that you like me?”

“I’m admitting that you and Luke are like two little brothers that I never asked for, but more annoying, and I love you.”

“Thanks,” he says sincerely.  “I love you, too.”

“Calum!” Joy calls.  Michael whips around and spots him immediately.  He looks largely the same, his skin maybe a bit more sun-warm, and Michael relaxes just a fraction.  He’s had to repeat to himself since Calum left that he won’t be gone long enough to undergo some sort of metamorphosis to render him unrecognizable, but it’s comforting to have the confirmation of that in front of him.  Their eyes catch and Calum’s smile widens, familiar and feeling like home.  When it’s finally Michael’s turn for a hug, he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to be able to let go.

“I missed you,” Calum says.  Michael hums, because he’s pretty sure it’s obvious he returns the sentiment.  He pulls away just far enough for them to see each other, unwilling to fully release the embrace yet but wanting to catalogue any small details he might have forgotten, like the number of eyelashes Calum has.

“Hey,” Calum says, low enough that his family probably won’t hear in the moment of privacy they’re giving them.  “I choose music.”

“What?” he asks.

“I want to do the band.  I’d rather be making music with you and Luke than playing football somewhere far away.”

Michael laughs, delighted.  He wants to call Luke right now and tell him the news.  He wants to write a song that captures this feeling.  He wants to take Calum’s face in his hands and kiss him.

“Come on, boys,” Joy says.  “Let’s get you home.  You’ll have plenty of time to catch up there.”

Michael loops an arm around Calum’s shoulders and squeezes in next to him in the car, pushing all other thoughts to the back of his mind.

-/-

“Guys,” Michael says, reading and rereading the email to be sure he’s not misunderstanding anything.

“What is it?” Luke asks, sprawled on the floor.  It’s almost 2 am, and he and Calum have been building paper airplanes to throw at each other for the past half hour.

“ Dear Mr. Clifford ,” he reads.  “ Thank you for reaching out.  We are --”

“Wait,” Calum says, getting up to read over his shoulder.  “What’s this?  Why are they calling you Mr. Clifford?”

“I got us a gig.”

“You what ?” Luke screeches, sitting up so fast it makes Michael dizzy.

“I got us a gig at the Annandale Hotel.  They want 5 Seconds of Summer to play there.”

“Holy fuck,” Calum breathes.

“What the fuck,” Luke says, standing up to start pacing.  “Are we ready for this?  We’re not ready for this.  We still don’t even have a drummer!”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Michael says.  “I was talking to Geordie--”

“Oh, you were talking to Geordie ,” Luke says, and Michael kicks at him because Geordie is nice and really fucking funny, and thinking about wanting to kiss her is a lot less scary than these random thoughts about wanting to kiss Calum that he’s been having lately.

He hasn’t had any thoughts about wanting to have sex with Calum yet, so he’s chalking it up to some sort of fluke.  If he ignores it long enough, it should go away and stop making him feel so confused and unsteady.

“Anyway, Geordie said she knows a guy.  He’s like two years older, but she said he’s been a drummer for some other bands and that he’s pretty good.  I think I actually met him at a party once, because I already friended him on Facebook.”

“Message him!” Luke demands.  “What are you waiting for?  We have to figure out if he even wants to play with us, then we have to find time to meet him, actually practice together, and choose a setlist for the gig.  There’s so much to do!”

“You’re so pushy when you’re stressed,” Michael grumbles.  “Cal, you think I should message him?”  He turns to Calum, but he won’t meet his eyes, picking at his cuticles instead.  “Cal?”

“Well, if Geordie thinks he’s good,” he shrugs.  Michael frowns, but Calum is already heading out of the room with a vague explanation about brushing his teeth before he can say anything.

“Come on, Mikey,” Luke says.  “Message him.”

“What do I say?” he asks, pulling up Facebook.

“I don’t know,” Luke says.  “You got the Annandale to say yes to you, so you should be able to get this guy to.”

Michael snorts, because that was entirely unhelpful.  Still, he pulls up a chat with Ashton Irwin and sends a message.

-/-

“He’s late,” Luke says, pacing again.  Michael’s a bit worried that he’s going to wear a track in the carpet, even if he doesn’t know what Luke’s so worked up about.  He’s not shy like Calum or too much to handle at times like Michael, he’s just a bit awkward on occasion.  Michael figures that Ashton will figure that out sooner or later if he actually ends up joining them, and Luke’s lovable enough that it shouldn’t be an issue.

“Maybe he got lost,” Michael says.  “Sit down.  You’re making me dizzy.”

Luke plops onto the couch next to him, jiggling his leg.

“I wish Calum were here,” he says.  Michael does, too, because if Calum was here to calm down Luke then Michael could have his own little freak out about possibly choosing a bad drummer and then having to scramble to find another one with everyone blaming him.  As it is, although Calum wants to do the band professionally, he’s still on a competitive football team and they have a game today.  Michael cannot afford to have both of them getting in their heads right now, no matter how much anxiety and repetition of you’re going to fuck this up may have kept him awake last night.

“It’ll be fine,” he says.  Luke nods once.  “Seriously.  He seemed alright from our conversation, and I found some videos.  His other bands are kind of crappy, but he’s good.”

“Okay,” Luke says.  “Okay.”

The doorbell finally rings.  Luke just about jumps out of his skin, so Michael pats his knee as he stands.

“Chill out, mate.”

He makes his way to the door and opens it to reveal a boy around their age, with a bright smile and a kind of ugly purple shirt.

“Hi!  Michael, right?” he asks.

“Yeah.  And you’re Ashton?”

“That’s me!” Ashton says, tapping his thigh.  “Sorry I’m late.  I swear I’m usually more punctual, but I got caught up with something at home and couldn’t leave on time.”

“It’s okay,” Michael says.  He steps to the side to let him in and shuts the door behind him, starting towards their main room with Ashton following.  “Our bassist isn’t here because he’s got a soccer game, but you can meet our other guitarist and singer and we can talk about some stuff.”

“Sounds good,” Ashton says.

Luke stands when they enter the room, and before Michael can say anything he lets out a startled “It’s you.”

“Oh,” Ashton says.  He sounds equally surprised, but he’s smiling.  “It’s good to see you again.  No glasses?”

“Contacts,” Luke says, face starting to turn pink.

“What?”  Michael asks.

“Ashton was the guy who complimented my glasses at the movies, when we went while Calum was in Brazil.”

“Oh,” Michael says.  “It’s a small world, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Luke says.  Ashton echoes the agreement, and they both look very pleased with this turn of events.  Michael files Luke’s flush and bashful smile away to comment on later.  It makes him eye Ashton a little more critically, wondering if this is something he should really push to make long-term.  Maybe this is another little nudge from the universe.

“So, music?” he says eventually.  The eye contact between the other two snaps like a rubber band.  Michael almost feels guilty for breaking the moment.

“Music!” Ashton says enthusiastically.  “What are you thinking?”

Michael steps behind Luke, nudging him out of the way so he can reach the piece of notebook paper with the proposed setlist written down.  When he faces Ashton again, holding it out, he’s looking at the color staining their elbows, perfectly lined up.

“You guys are soulmates?” he asks, voice light but something guarded in his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Luke smiles, looking down at their elbows.  “We’re soulmates, then the green is from our bassist, Calum.  We’re like a triangle.”

“Is that going to be a problem?” Michael asks.  Ashton shakes his head forcefully.

“No, of course not!  That’s super cool,” he says, but his smile looks more tense now, and he scratches at the skin under the bandana tied around his wrist.  Michael looks at the lack of color on the skin he can see and wonders if this is jealousy, but that doesn’t seem quite right.  He doesn’t seem bitter, or even overly sad, just uncomfortable.  He actually looks how Michael usually feels before he’s about to start hyperventilating.

“We won’t make it weird,” Luke says earnestly.  “Like, if you want to be in the band we’re not going to exclude you from things just because us three are already soulmates.”

Michael thinks Luke might be getting a little ahead of himself, since they haven’t even heard Ashton play yet.  He also thinks that Ashton wanted to completely exit the conversation about ten sentences ago.

“Don’t worry about it, yeah?”  Michael says.  “That’s not important right now.  What’s important is if you think you’ll be able to play those songs by December 3.”

Ashton looks down at the proposed setlist, and Michael looks at him, wondering for a brief moment what his shade of red would look like against his skin.

-/-

They have fifteen minutes before they’re supposed to step onstage for their first professional gig, and Michael feels like he’s going to either throw up, burst into tears, or die from a lack of oxygen.  The corner he managed to tuck himself into is dark and cold, and he tries to focus on the hard concrete rather than the voice in his head repeating you’re going to fail over and over and over.  He squeezes his eyes shut and tugs on his hair, and it hurts, but at least it makes him gasp in a breath, and then he’s hyperventilating.

“Michael?” a voice asks, making him flinch so violently he almost smacks his head against the wall.  “Hey, hey.  It’s okay.  It’s just me.  It’s just Ashton.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat that makes it seem like he’s dying, and he just wants to get a grip and play this show and go home and never see anyone ever again.

“Do you want me to get your parents?” Ashton asks.  Michael shakes his head.  “Do you want Luke or Calum?”  He shakes his head again, because Luke has been jumpy all day with nerves and he knows that Calum is equally worried because they hadn’t been able to find a time to practice that worked for both him and Ashton at the same time.

He couldn’t even ensure that his band was able to practice together before their first gig.  They’re going to be absolutely awful and everyone is going to blame him for pushing for this so hard.

You’re such a failure.

Shut up , he thinks, smacking a palm against his head.

“Woah, hey, no need for that,” Ashton says.  “I’m going to sit by you, okay?”

Michael thinks he nods, but he can’t be sure.

“Can you hold out one of your hands?” Ashton asks, voice soothing and next to him instead of above him now.  Michael forces his hand to loosen its grip on his hair, holding it out in front of him.  “Thank you.  I’m going to take it now, okay?  Nothing bad is going to happen to you while I’m here.”

Fabric brushes his fingertips and Michael flinches before something warm wraps around his hand.  Michael finally opens his eyes and sees that Ashton is holding his hand, the bandana he typically keeps around his wrist acting as a barrier between their skin.  Ashton shifts and guides his hand so it’s now pressed between the bandana and Ashton’s shirt, chest steadily rising and falling as his lungs expand and contract underneath it.

“Can you feel how I’m breathing?  How nice and even it is?” he asks.  Michael closes his eyes again and nods.  “Good.  I want you to try and line up your breathing with mine.  It might be hard at first, but you’ll get it.  Ready?  Breathe in, and out.”

Michael tries, but his breaths come in gasps.

Failure , his mind says.

“You’re doing good,” Ashton says.  “Try again.  In, and out.  In, and out.”

Michael listens to Ashton’s voice, guiding him like a lighthouse in a storm, and keeps breathing until they finally fall in rhythm.  Ashton never wavers, and it’s easy to hear him over the rush of blood in his ears and the overwhelming thoughts.  Something about his voice tells Michael you’re safe , and he latches on like a lifeline until everything slows and he feels confident he can function again.  Michael slumps back against the wall and opens his eyes to find Ashton already looking at him.  Michael doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but he must find it.

“Is there anything else I can do?” he asks.

Hug me , Michael thinks, but they haven’t had their First Touch and Ashton always shys away when someone gets close enough to risk an accidental one.  Even now, comforting Michael as best as he can, he keeps a bandana between them.

“How did you know to do that stuff?” he asks instead.  Ashtons eyes slide to the wall behind him, and Michael waits while he takes a breath and sets his jaw before turning back.

“I’ve had some pretty bad nights before.  I like to know what I’m dealing with, so I looked around google.  Some of it turned out to be solid advice.”

Michael nods and takes another breath, slow and steady and normal.  He wants to know if Ashton has anyone to count breaths with him, but he’s not sure if that’s something he’s allowed to ask yet.

“Are you ready?” Ashton asks.

“Yeah,” Michael says, and finds that he can mean it.  Ashton helps pull him up, and when Michael lets go of his hand he misses it, even if the bandana was between them the entire time.  Michael watches him carefully fold it, then tie it around his wrist again, then they both step out of their dark corner together.

-/-

The gig ends up being kind of shit, but also kind of not.  They don’t play as well as any of them would have liked, always slightly out of sync and hands and voices too shaky to be as precise as necessary, but there are a few moments when everything locks together and Michael can feel the potential.  He looks at the others and knows that they can feel it, too, can recognize it in Calum’s blinding smiles and the way Luke jumps around and even in the hit of Ashton’s bass drum.

When they finally finish stumbling their way through the set, all twelve people in the crowd cheer.  It’s not that impressive, but it sends a zip through Michael’s bloodstream all the same.

He wants this, and he wants it with the three other boys on stage with him.

When they come to the front of the stage at the end, Michael notices how Ashton is standing a bit away instead of with his arms around them like the others, and Michael gently steps out of Luke’s hold.  When they bow, it feels more like they’re a band, rather than a trio of soulmates and a drummer.

“That was… good?” Luke asks once they get offstage.

“It kind of sucked,” Michael says, although he feels like that fact should bother him more after the anxiety attack about it earlier.

“It was awesome!” Ashton enthuses.  “That was the first professional 5 Seconds of Summer gig. With more practice, the next one is going to be even better.”

“We should tell everyone you’re officially part of the band,” Calum says.  Ashton grins, wide and sunny, and Michael wishes he could pull him into a group hug.

“We’ll take a picture at my house and put it on Facebook,” Michael says.  “I’ve decided that everyone is staying over tonight in celebration of this momentous occasion.”

“You just said the gig sucked,” Luke says.

“But it’s still a big deal!  Besides, maybe we’re celebrating Ashton joining the band,” Michael argues.

“Why not both?” Calum suggests, slinging an arm around their shoulders.  He’s a little sweaty from the stage lights, but Michael doesn’t mind, leaning into him before he’s aware of it.  “Come on, Mum needs to fuss over us before we go to yours.”

Calum starts to lead them away, and Michael twists around just enough to ensure that Ashton is following, too.  He is, and when he locks eyes with Michael his smile is brighter than any stage light could ever be.

Later that night, when Ashton has drifted off to sleep on the bed like a functional human being and Luke has conked out on top of a tangle of blankets, pillows, and a sleeping bag they managed to find, Michael lays down on the air mattress next to Calum.  The December heat makes the air feel heavy, even at night, and he holds himself stiffly.  He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch Calum right now, even though he wants to more than anything.

It’s harder to pretend that the way they wrap around each other is still normal when there are others around.  Luke brushes it off, too used to them to find it strange and sometimes even joining in a nice cuddle, but whenever he drifts off against Michael he grumbles and shifts away relatively soon after.  Ashton doesn't know the full extent of their clinginess, but Michael has noticed his looks when any of them so much as touch.  Michael doesn’t think he’d say anything, and maybe Calum will wake up first tomorrow and extract himself from Michael’s hold anyway, but the thought of judgement still makes him feel queasy.

“Michael?” Calum asks, whisper deafening in the dark.

“Yeah?”

A warm hand encases his own, and Michael relaxes and shifts so they’re tangled together, taking it as the permission that it is.  Calum exhales once they’re settled, nuzzling into his chest a bit more, and Michael’s heart swells.

They haven’t talked about this.  Michael still doesn’t know if Calum realizes that the way Michael loves him is different than the way he loves Luke (he still can’t even fully admit that to himself , because it doesn’t really make sense to him and he’s still waiting to see if sex with boys is something he’d even want), and he doesn’t know if this urge to always be close and possibly figure out what Calum tastes like comes from the fact that they’ve been in each other’s back pockets for years and he’s confused, or if it’s meant to be like this.

You might like boys, he thinks to himself, and you might be in love with Calum .

It’s been too much of a roller coaster of a day to consider that, and Michael suddenly feels well and truly exhausted.

“You okay?” Calum asks, like he can read his mind.

“Tired,” Michael says.  “Missed you.”

Calum hums, tracing a mindless pattern on Michael’s arm.  It tickles a little, and something flutters in his stomach.

“Was Geordie at the gig today?” he asks.  Michael frowns.  He doesn’t really want to talk about Geordie right now.  He just wants to enjoy the feeling of being close to Calum again.

“No, she couldn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry.”

Michael shrugs.

“”S alright.  I was happy just to be with you guys.”

Calum nods, and Michael counts their breaths until he drifts off.

-/-

“Statistically speaking, we’re really rare,” Luke says, hanging half off the bed.  They were supposed to have band practice today, but Ashton’s mom got called into work suddenly and his step-dad is out of town, so he has to babysit.  It feels cheap to practice without their drummer, so they retreated to Michael’s room to play video games and hang out.

“What, as Australians?” Michael asks, not breaking focus.  Calum’s player manages to get the ball and he swears.

“No, as soulmates,” Luke says.  “About 53% of people have two soulmates, but out of those only 7% are a triangle, like us.  Most people’s soulmates aren’t soulmates with each other, as well.”

“Huh,” Calum says.  He wins the match, and Michael swears while he cheers, then tosses the controller at Luke.  It hits his stomach and he winces.

“Did you know that the percentage of that lowers dramatically when you talk about people with three soulmates?”

Michael sighs and turns his full attention to Luke, because soulmate statistics are something that he stops everything to talk about, and the sooner they indulge him the sooner they’ll be able to keep playing.

“What’s the percentage with three soulmates?” he asks flatly.  Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Calum stifle a laugh.

“Well, studies suggest that out of people with three soulmates, only 0.12% of them are all soulmates with each other.”

“Why are you looking up stats for people with three soulmates?” Michael asks.  Luke shrugs and mumbles something, ducking his head.

“Ashton, right?” Calum asks.  Luke nods, and Michael sucks in a breath, because he didn’t know that they also thought…

“It feels right, doesn’t it?” he asks.  “Like, I know it’s not likely and I don’t want to get hopes up, but…”

“We won’t know until he lets us touch him,” Calum says.  “And it won’t change anything either way, because the colors are just indicators, but I’ve felt it, too.”

“There’s something special about the four of us together,” Luke says.  “Is it bad to hope?”

“No,” Calum says.  Michael shakes his head, but he’s not sure if he agrees.  Luke just told them the statistics.  He wants it, but he’s not stupid, despite what his frankly abysmal grades suggest.  The universe doesn’t give people whatever they want, and Michael already feels like he’s gotten more than he deserves with his two official soulmates and the band.  There’s no way he’s lucky enough to get a color for Ashton as well, even if the other two do.

“We’ll see,” Michael says.  “Now come on.  I want a chance to play again and I can’t do that if you’re hogging the controller.”

Luke rolls his eyes, and they squabble all throughout the game because Michael keeps trash talking everyone despite not even playing that round.  The entire time, though, the back of his mind is repeating what if?

-/-

Getting to go to a real recording studio and work with real producers on an EP for their tiny little band is an experience that Michael thought he would only ever dream of.  When labels and publishers first reached out, Ashton handled all of the correspondence like a professional, going over every suggestion with a fine-tooth comb and consulting their parents to be sure they would get something good out of it.  Now Michael gets to stare at the different buttons and switches on the soundboard while sniffling and drinking nasty tea that is theoretically helping soothe his voice.

At least he doesn’t have to go back to school tomorrow, unlike Calum and Luke.  His parents have finally let him drop out after a lot of arguments and assurances that he can make this work, that they can be something huge.  They’ve got an EP coming, and while this one has some covers it also has a song Calum wrote and one that Luke helped with.  This is a viable career, and Michael is going to fight tooth and nail for it with everything he has.

“Hey,” Ashton says, sitting down next to him.  They’re watching Calum record his vocals, voice scratchy because they all caught the same bug from each other but still sounding like Michael’s best dreams.  Watching him experience a song he wrote in his bedroom coming to life in front of him has been Michael’s favorite part of this whole process.

“Hey,” he replies, knocking his shoe into Ashton’s.

Honestly, Ashton has been a lifesaver.  He’s organized and good at talking to strangers, so Michael no longer feels the pressure to be, and he can keep them focused when they get rowdy during practices.  He can drive, and is willing to pick people up from school who want to ditch.  He’s also super funny, and he balances Luke’s whines with pragmatism and Michael’s anxieties with practicalities.  He makes Calum laugh more than even Michael can, and he can’t fault him for it because Calum’s laugh brings everyone joy.  His biggest flaw is that he doesn’t play Fifa.  Finding him was like finding a missing puzzle piece they didn't know was needed, but makes the picture that much better.

He also hasn’t let any of them touch him yet.  Michael knows what the statistics say about how unlikely it is to get another soulmate so early when he already has two, but he wonders.  He wonders about it all the time.

“Exciting stuff,” Ashton says, looking at where Calum is standing at the microphone.

“Do you think we can do it?” Michael asks quietly.  Ashton glances at him before returning his gaze to Calum, but Michael feels seen.  They both need this more than anything.  Michael has staked his entire future on it, but he knows that Ashton is scared of being stuck in the same rut forever.  The band is just as much an escape route for him as it is for Michael.

“I think we can,” Ashton says, and Michael trusts him.  They sit in a comfortable silence for the rest of the recording, Luke joining and then finally Calum when he finishes.  When the producer calls it, says that they’re officially done with recording, the entire band cheers and celebrates.  Michael watches as Ashton flinches away when a stray hand or arm comes too close in the smaller space, and Ashton sees him looking.

After Ashton drops Luke and Calum off, Michael feels like the air in the car thickens.  He feels like it’s time to ask about Ashton’s aversion to touch, or at least address it in some way, but he’s not sure how to begin.  Ashton makes the decision for him when they reach Michael’s house and he parks the car.

“I used to have a soulmark.”

He doesn’t look at Michael, just stares out the windshield with his hands in his lap, but Michael can’t look away.  Something is squeezing his chest, and he’s paralyzed.

“It was on my face actually.  Orange, if you believe it, right there on my left cheek.  Apparently my dad had mine on his thumb.”

Ashton swallows.  Michael tries to imagine him with orange on his face and can’t.

“He left when I was two.  The soulmark didn’t start fading until I was around four.  Mum freaked out.  When I asked about it later, she told me she actually tracked him down to be sure he hadn’t died.  He hadn’t, by the way.  As far as I know he’s still out there somewhere.  But it didn’t matter, really.  Mum brought me to be checked out and the doctor said that he was dead to me.  When he broke my trust by leaving and not coming back, he might as well have broken the soulbond.  There’s no universe where he’ll be easy for me to love anymore, so the soulmark disappeared.”

He scratches at the cuff of his shirt, where Michael knows the bandana still sits.  Ashton squints out the windshield, and Michael wishes more than anything that he could reach out and comfort him in the way that comes easiest.

“I was supposed to be easy for him to love, and he left.  Kind of makes you wonder how anyone could love you after that, you know?”

I can! Michael wants to yell.  Just let me!

He clears his throat.  It’s still painful and raw, making him wince.

“That’s why I don’t want to touch people,” Ashton says before he can find words.  “What’s the point of knowing you’re soulmates if someone can still just stop loving you in the blink of an eye?”

“We won’t,” Michael says.  “Luke, Calum, and I already love you, and we’re not going to stop.  You’re part of the band, and that means you’re part of each of us anyway.”

Ashton’s face twists into something unfamiliar, and with a shock Michael realizes that there are a few tears slipping down his cheeks.  He swipes at them, then nods.

“I think I’m starting to believe that.”

Michael shifts so he’s facing him more fully.

“You don’t have to ever let us touch you if you don’t want to, but whether or not there are colors won’t change anything.  Like, you’re our brother no matter what.”

Ashton nods again, then lets out a raspy laugh.

“Sorry,” he says.  “We should be celebrating our EP, and here I am baring my heart and crying.”

“I like boys!” Michael blurts.  It startles Ashton’s tears away, and he blinks at Michael dumbly.  He can feel his face burning, and he hunches in his seat and wishes the ground would swallow him or that he could have lost his voice earlier so he wouldn’t just blurt stuff like that.

“You were--I didn’t want you to feel weird for telling me that deep stuff, so…” he says.

“Thank you for telling me,” Ashton replies eventually.  “Is it… like are you… with one of them?” He gestures vaguely to the back seat, and Michael’s face burns hotter.  He really wishes distraction had not been his go-to method to get Ashton to stop crying.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, because that’s something he still hasn’t managed to sort out properly.

You know, his mind says, and he viciously shushes that voice.

“Okay,” Ashton says.  “Cool.  That’s--that’s cool.  Do they know?”  He shakes his head.  “Cool.  I won’t say anything, then.”

Michael nods.

“Cool,” Ashton repeats, and something about how absurd that word sounds now and the awkwardness of the situation makes Michael snort a laugh.  He tries to muffle it, but then Ashton is giggling too, and soon they’re both laughing near-hysterically in Ashton’s car, parked in front of his house where anyone could glance outside and see.  They probably look ridiculous.  When they finally calm down, tired but relaxed this time, Ashton gives Michael a look that can be best described as fond .

“Thank you,” Ashton says.  Michael smiles softly and nods.

“See you tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah, Mike,” Ashton says.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Michael gets out of the car and heads towards the house.  Just before he steps inside, he turns around and waves.  Ashton waves back, and Michael watches him drive away until he’s out of sight.

“Michael, is that you?” his mum calls when he steps inside.

“Yeah!”

“How was your day?” she asks, coming around the corner while he kicks off his shoes.

“It was really good,” he says.

His band finished recording their first EP.  He came out to someone for the first time and it wasn’t a disaster.  Ashton trusted him enough to tell him why they haven’t done a First Touch yet, and Michael feels like some pieces in his life are coming together.

“Really, really good.”

-/-

They’re together when Unplugged hits number three on the iTunes chart in Australia.  They’re at Michael’s, hanging out in the granny flat, and he checks the charts just out of curiosity.

“Guys,” he says.  “Guys!  Our EP!”

“What?” Luke asks, crowding close.  “Holy shit!”

“Number three! Number fucking three!”

“Seriously?” Ashton asks.  “Even though we only did promo on Facebook and Twitter?”

“What the fuck!” Calum laughs.  They all know what this means, because if their tiny little EP can reach number three with no professional promo, imagine what they could do with an actual album and a team around them.  Luke laughs, delighted, and they all dissolve into cheers and joyful yelling.

Ashton says “Hey, Luke,” and when Luke turns he smacks his hand in a high five.  Everything falls silent while Michael watches as gold spreads over Ashton’s hand.  Luke stares at the deep purple staining his own, then nearly tackles Ashton in a hug.

“I knew it!” he yells, and Michael winces on behalf of Ashton’s ears.  “I fucking knew it!”

Ashton doesn’t say anything, just sinks into the embrace, and Michael’s fingers inch with the urge to make contact.

“I want to try,” Calum says.

“Let me enjoy the hug!” Luke whines.

“You can hug him more later!  Come on, just let me find out.”

“Maybe we should ask Ashton what he thinks,” Michael says dryly.  Ashton untucks his face from Luke’s shoulder and instead hooks his chin over it so he can face them, arms still looped securely around Luke’s waist.

“Where do you want to try, Cal?” he asks.  “Other elbow?  Other shin? Hand?”

“Other elbow,” Calum says immediately.  “I want you to match Luke.”

Ashton nods and detangles himself from the hug.  Calum shakes out his hands, bouncing on his toes like he’s psyching himself up, then bumps their elbows together.  Michael watches the color bloom on them both, just like he knew it would, watches them grin and hug and then watches them both turn to him.

“Michael?” Ashton asks.  Michael swallows, but his throat feels like he’s closing, and he’s not certain he’s getting enough air right now.  “Mikey, it’s okay.  Deep breath, come on.”

Michael takes a breath, then another.

“I want to see what purple looks like on you,” Ashton says, and Michael almost wants to cry, because that’s just another indicator that this should work, isn’t it?  Ashton doesn’t have to ask him what he’s worried about, because he already knows that Michael doesn’t think the universe is going to be this kind, because he doesn’t feel worthy enough already.  Ashton understands that he’s so fucking terrified of being the odd one out here, and Ashton is telling him that he’s not.

“You’re easy for me to love,” Ashton says.  He unties the bandana from his wrist and holds out his hand.  Michael stares at the strip of bare skin, riddled with a few scars and half a shade paler than the rest of him.  “Come on.  I want you, too.”

Michael hesitates, then Calum’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and Luke’s lands on his back, and Michael reaches out and wraps his hand around Ashton’s wrist as best he can.  The dark purple reminds him of spilling grape juice on his clothes as a kid, and when he collapses into Ashton he feels like they could have known each other at that age, too.

Calum and Luke give them their moment, but soon enough they squish themselves into the hug, too.  It’s warm and almost claustrophobic, but Michael feels himself start to tear up because these are his people , his band, his best friends in the entire world, and they fit together so well.  They’re going to stay that way for the rest of their lives; Michael wants to make sure of it.

-/-

Their first night of the London visit, Michael feels so nervous he can’t sleep.  He’s in an entire different hemisphere, and tomorrow they’re going to meet with more writers and producers and professional musicians to “work on developing their sound,” and for some reason this feels different than recording EPs in Australia.  Getting their music made and listened to over there (and in Sweden, apparently) is a little easier.  They have the home field advantage, but the world at large typically doesn’t notice Australian musicians.

Except apparently London has, and that’s amazing and exhilarating and more pressure than he knows how to deal with sometimes late at night.  He gets up to wash his hands, scrubbing at them furiously and staring at his reflection in the mirror, trying to find something positive to say about the tired boy in front of him.

He wants to dye his hair.  He wants to crawl into bed and actually fall asleep.  He wants to hide under the covers and not have to come out and face everyone else because his ideas suck and he’s been playing guitar constantly now that he’s not in school but doesn’t feel like he’s really getting better and--

“Michael?” Calum asks sleepily from the doorway, squinting at the bright lights.    “What are you doing up?  Come back to bed.”

“I’m just…” Michael trails off, because he doesn’t have a good answer and Calum will see through any of his lies.  His hands are starting to feel weird, prickly and sensitive, but he keeps scrubbing.

Calum closes the distance between them, turning off the faucet and grabbing one of the fluffy hotel towels.  He gently pats Michael’s hands dry, then flicks off the light and leads him back to bed.  Ashton is snoring lightly in the other bed, a gentle sound to counteract how silent Luke is when he sleeps, cocooned under blankets because he runs cold where Ashton runs warm.

Michael runs cold as well, but not when he’s with Calum.

“What do you need?” Calum asks once they’re laying down, holding Michael’s hands in his own, almost close enough to be sharing the same pillow.

“I don’t know.”  The sheets feel scratchy against his skin, and he kind of wants to kick them off but also wants to ensure that they’re still tucked in snugly.  Calum shifts, pushing him back against the bed and rolling on top of him.

“Stop fidgeting,” he says.  Michael immediately feels himself go limp, because he’d do whatever Calum asks.  “Can you tell me what’s wrong, or do you need me to distract you?”

“What are you going to do?” Michael asks.  “We’re in an unfamiliar hotel room.  Ashton and Luke are asleep.  There are no fucking distractions here.”

“We could find something,” Calum says, voice dipping low and for a moment Michael thinks--Calum’s so close, and he’s already half on top of him, and it would be both as easy as breathing and as hard as climbing Everest to close the gap between them.  He tenses, because if this is--he doesn’t know what--

“Hey, relax again,” Calum says, crease between his eyebrows that Michael can just barely make out in the dark.  “I’m not going to do anything bad, you know that.  I was just going to tell you that Mali got her first soulmark finally.”

“Wait, really?” Michael asks.  He’s always felt slightly guilty that he had Calum and then Luke and now Ashton before she got her first splotch of color.  He’s never quite understood how she could go so long without finding someone compatible with her soul, because she shares all of Calum’s best qualities.

“Yeah,” Calum says.  “It’s a boy, someone she met in a music course.  They keep dancing around whether they’re platonic or romantic, but she says she doesn’t know him well enough to let us meet him yet either way.”

“Do you think--” Michael begins, then stops himself.  Calum shifts, the slide of his bare legs against Michael’s almost making him flinch with what sorts of feelings it brings to mind.

“What?” Calum asks once he’s settled and it’s clear that Michael isn’t going to continue.

“Shouldn’t they know?  Isn’t the soulmate stuff… isn’t it supposed to be easy?  Aren’t you supposed to know which one it is?”

Calum is quiet for a long time.  Ashton snores on gently in the other bed.  Luke shifts, then settles with a content sigh.  Michael waits with bated breath for some sort of sign that he didn’t somehow ask a forbidden question.

“I think that loving them is supposed to be easy if you put your mind to it,” Calum finally says, voice carefully even.  “Figuring out what type of love that is might not be.”

Michael wonders if Calum knows what sorts of hurricanes have been brewing inside him since as far back as Brazil.  Maybe this is his way of telling Michael that he really is confused and needs to stop the weird crush on him.  No one wants their platonic soulmate to think about making out with them backstage at a gig, or to take a look at them doing something as normal as eating pancakes half asleep and think I want to kiss the syrup off your lips and run my fingers through your hair and love you for the rest of my life.

He just wishes he knew which type of love this is supposed to be.  He wants to kiss Calum, but he also doesn’t want to have sex with anyone, and he doesn’t know what that means.

“Michael…” Calum says, and Michael involuntarily turns towards his voice like a sunflower towards the sun.

“Yeah?” he manages to say.  Calum doesn’t reply though, just looks at him as well as he can in the darkness of the room.  Michael looks back and is scared of what he could see.  Calum never completes his thought, but he leans forward and presses a kiss to Michael’s cheek, soft and lingering and tender in a way that makes Michael ache deep in his gut.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Calum says.  “Exciting day tomorrow.”  He settles back in, wrapped around and against and within Michael like the air he’s breathing, and Michael holds on and tries not to get lost in the storm.

-/-

The last night of their tour with Hot Chelle Rae finds Michael completely sober while everyone else is absolutely hammered.  They’ve gone on tour before, but it’s a different sort of exposure to play to a crowd here for a bigger name.  Michael honestly was expecting everyone to flood in after their set, those there early bored to tears during it, but that hadn’t been the case.  The crowd was just as lively for them as they were for the main act, some of them singing their heart out with the lyrics and most of them dancing and jumping when they asked.  On top of that, there are more plans in place now, ideas about moving to London for the first album solidifying into a reality.  They’re popular in Australia, and now slowly gaining a bit of notice in the rest of the world.  It’s a night worthy of celebration, and for once Michael is determined to feel it all without the haze of alcohol.  He wants these memories as they are when he looks back.

“Michael!” Ashton crows, almost stumbling into him.  Michael laughs and just barely manages to catch him, but not before Ashton squeezes his butt.  He’s a really handsy drunk, now that he doesn’t have reservations about touching them.  He lets other people brush up against him in crowded spaces like this party without flinching away, too.  Since he’s legal, he’s been the one buying drinks for the rest of them, and packing them away with just as much enthusiasm.

 “Michael, why aren’t you dancing?  It’s a party! You’re supposed to have fun!”

“I am having fun,” Michael says, because it’s true.  Observing everyone getting sloshed and making fools of themselves is amusing, and he’s been having great conversations and basking in how many people are so excited to see them there despite the fact that he, Luke, and Calum are technically underage.

“But you could be having more ,” Ashton insists.  “Come on!”

He grabs Michael’s hand and drags him from his corner, out to the makeshift dance floor filled with people who have very few inhibitions left.  He thinks maybe Ashton will let him stop just at the edge of it, but Ashton just slips between the warm bodies and flailing limbs until they reach Calum.

“Michael!” he yells over the pounding of the music, grin stretching from ear to ear.  There’s a pretty brunette hanging off him who he had obviously been dancing with, but he detangles himself from her to reach out to him, and Michael watches Ashton step in and lead her away to dance somewhere else.  Calum throws his arms around Michael’s neck and yells “I fucking missed you!”

“Missed me?” Michael laughs.  “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“But you haven’t been with me the whole time,” Calum pouts.

“Well, you were with Luke,” Michael says.

“Luke’s been dancing with Aleisha.  I want to be with you!”

Michael glances around, trying to spot his other soulmate in the crowd, but it’s useless.  Maybe they slipped away to spend a bit more one on one time together, getting it in while they can.  Luke has told them that they’re going to break up when he leaves, because neither of them think long-distance will work on two different continents and they’d rather part now on good terms than later on bad ones.  It’s a mature decision for him to make, but Michael knows that it sucks.  His crush is coming with him to London; the girl Luke says he loves is not.

“Dance with me,” Calum says, starting to move a bit, arms still looped around his neck.  “Come on, Mikey.  It’s a party!”

Michael once again marvels at the powers of alcohol.  Sober Calum hates dancing in public, always too shy and worried about someone seeing, but drunk Calum has no such reservations, and Michael soon finds himself moving to the beat with him.  Dancing together is nothing new, even if the press of bodies around them means that they’re closer than usual.  Michael isn’t sure how long the light, comfortable atmosphere lasts before the song changes to something slower with a rolling bass line.  Everyone around them starts grinding, which is more than a little awkward since 1) he’s not about to grind against his unrequited crush when said crush is drunk, 2) he himself is not drunk enough for this, and 3) they’re the youngest people there and it’s starting to feel weird.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Calum asks, pressing close under the guise of being heard.  He’s still subconsciously moving with the beat, and it’s more than Michael can take.

“Yeah,” he says, stepping back and taking one of Calum’s hands, since he doesn’t trust him not to get lost in the crowd on his own.  The first kiss of fresh air against his skin makes him shiver after the heat of the party, but Calum plasters himself to his side and Michael feels like he’s burning up again.

“Hey,” Calum says.  Michael turns his head to find their faces much closer than he anticipated, Calum’s eyes glassy but so full of life.  “I really fucking love you.”

“I should hope so,” Michael says.  “I’m your oldest soulmate, after all.”

“No, that’s not--” Calum shakes his head.  “I mean I really, really fucking love you.”

Michael doesn’t have time to ask for clarification before Calum is pressing their lips together.

Whatever he thought kissing Calum would be like, this was not it.  There’s no hesitation, no hint of shyness or uncertainty, and it’s forceful enough that Michael gasps and stumbles, back hitting the wall of the bar before catching his footing.  Calum follows him, pinning him there and using the gasp to lick into his mouth, and it’s so overwhelming that Michael can’t think of anything else to do but throw himself forward with equal gusto.  His hands grip Calum’s waist, fingers digging into the muscle at the small of his back, and Calum makes a noise and presses closer.  Their tongues slide wetly together, sloppy and tasting of all the alcohol Calum consumed earlier, and something that isn’t arousal clenches in his abdomen.

Right.  Calum is drunk.

Michael breaks the kiss, leaning back and gently pushing Calum away when he tries to chase him.

“What?”  Calum asks, and Michael tries valiantly not to stare at the spit glistening on his lower lip.  “Why’d you stop?”

“Cal, you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not,”  he says petulantly.  Anyone with working eyes and any sense can tell he’s lying.

“Yes, you are.  I’m not kissing you like this.”

Calum’s face falls.  He turns away, but before Michael can reach out for him again the door behind them opens.  Luke and Aleisha step out, holding hands and looking at first glance exactly like a perfect teenage couple should.  Michael knows him, though, and Luke’s eyes are rimmed in red.  Aleisha sniffles and adjusts her grip on his hand.

“Oh, hey guys,” Luke says, voice scratchy like he’s been crying.  They don’t leave for London for another month, but this is the demeanor of two kids who just broke up and wish the world hadn’t made them do so.  “What are you doing out here?”

“We just wanted some air,” Michael says.  “It was getting a bit crowded.”

Calum stays silent, and Michael wishes it didn’t feel painfully obvious that he isn’t telling the whole truth.  Luke looks between them, and Michael can’t meet his eyes.

“I’m going to find Ashton.  I think it’s time to go home,” he says.

“Okay,” Luke says slowly.  “Aleisha’s sister is picking her up right now, anyway.  We’ll meet you out here, I guess.”

Michael slips back inside without a word.  The loud music isn’t enticing anymore; it just makes it feel like his head is going to explode.  He searches the crowd of people but can’t find his soulmate, so he has to resort to asking strangers if anyone has seen him.  He pushes past people he vaguely recognizes and people he doesn’t, hunching his shoulders and just trying to get Ashton and get out of here so he can breathe again.  When he eventually finds him, he’s off to the side, chatting with a few strangers and making friends better than he could ever hope to.

“Ashton,” he says, tugging at his arm.

“Michael!” he grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders.  “Have you guys met Michael?”

“Ashton,” he says quietly while the group throws him casual greetings.  “Can we go home?”

“What?”

“I want to go home,” he says.  Ashton looks at him, really looks at him this time, and nods.

“Sorry guys, we’re going to take our leave,” he says to his small group.  “But hey, keep the party going!  See you again later!”

He turns them around, securely weaving around people with Michael tucked against his side, saying goodbyes and deflecting questions and never breaking stride until they reach the doors and step onto the sidewalk.  Calum is leaning against the building, Luke at his side, and only Luke looks up to greet them.

“What’s wrong?” Ashton asks.  Michael shrugs.  Luke shrugs.  Calum shrugs.

“Just tired,” Michael says.

Calum stumbles to the bushes by the corner and throws up.

The next morning, Michael wakes up first, gets medicine and water for everyone, and refuses to let himself lie in bed wishing Calum were next to him instead of across the room.  By the time he gets out of the shower, the others are semi-coherent and groaning, and Calum makes an off-hand comment about not remembering much about the night before.  Michael tries not to let it sting.

-/-

Michael shares with Luke in London.

It’s actually Liz who decrees this, grabbing Luke by the collar of his shirt when he tries to follow Ashton into the first bedroom to claim it.  Luke turns a bright shade of red, but Liz’s word is law since they wouldn’t be in London without her agreeing to take care of them.  Michael doesn’t try to protest.  The worst part is that he doesn’t know if he even wants to.  Calum has forgotten about their kiss, but Michael feels like he’s dreamt about it every night.  He knows that the others have caught on to the awkwardness, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, and that more than anything keeps him up well into the morning with a mixture of guilt and anxiety.

He doesn’t want Calum to feel badly, or the rest of the band to suffer simply because he’s too in love with Calum to get over one drunken kiss that he doesn’t even remember.

They’ve been in London for only a week, and Michael feels like he hasn’t slept at all, despite the lights out order that Liz has issued for midnight every night.  Luke always nods off almost immediately, and Michael is left counting sheep, tossing and turning, and trying his absolute best to resist the compulsion to get up and wash his hands for the tenth time or let his thoughts get away from him.

“You know,” Luke says one night, when Michael has been aimlessly staring at the clock for at least an hour already, “it’s extremely rare for someone with three soulmates to have them all be platonic.”

Michael turns his head towards him.

“It’s two in the morning, Luke,” he sighs.  “I’m not really in the mood for your soulmate statistics.”

“Out of people who have three soulmates, only one percent have all platonic soulmates.  Most have at least one familial or romantic one.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.”

“Michael,” Luke says, sounding just as tired as him.  “My mum didn’t make us room together because of my miniscule crush on Ashton.  She did that because you and Calum are in love, and once you figure that out she doesn’t want teenage boys fucking every night.”

Michael stares at him as best he can, but honestly the revelation that Luke knows isn’t as alarming as he thought it would be.  Mostly, he’s just tired.

“I don’t think I want that,” he says.

“You don’t want Calum?” Luke frowns.

“I don’t want to have sex.”  The silence in the room is heavy, so he tries to explain even if he’s not sure he has the energy to.  “I’d do it if he wanted to.  I’m not against it, and I am a little curious, but like… I think I could go the rest of my life without it and not be upset at all.  And I think I would only be okay doing it with someone I really, really love.”

“With Calum?” Luke asks.

“With Calum.”

“Okay,” Luke says, simple as that.  Michael lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“He kissed me, you know,” he says.  “The last night of the Hot Chelle Rae tour.  But he was drunk, and he forgot about it in the morning.  We never got to talk about it.”

Luke hums.  Michael feels a sudden ache of loneliness swell inside him.  He doesn’t like that he had a secret like that from his soulmate for so long.  He doesn’t like that things between him and Calum are weird, or that Ashton’s been shooting him appraising looks and tiptoeing around their conversations because he can tell something’s wrong but doesn’t want to ask what it is.

“Do you want a cuddle?” Luke asks, and it feels like a dam breaks.

“Yeah,” he croaks, already tossing back the covers and making his way to Luke’s bed.  He snuggles in, and Luke is familiar in a different way.  He still smells like home, still has lanky limbs and bony elbows, and he knows not to mention it when a few tears dampen his shirt.  He holds Michael tightly, and for the first time in a while Michael finds himself able to easily drift off to sleep.

-/-

“Calum?” Michael asks from the doorway, house finally quiet because Liz took the other two out for groceries after dinner.  Calum is lounging on his bed in a position familiar enough that Michael knows exactly where he would best fit if he joined him.  He looks up from his phone and hums, and Michael gets the same little thrill in his stomach that he always does when he’s the center of Calum’s attention.

“Do you want to help me dye my hair?” he asks.  He holds out the box of hair dye, a normal brown color to start off easy, and Calum immediately brightens.

“Fuck yeah!”  He springs off the bed and takes the box, looking at the picture on the front and the flipping to the directions on the back.  “You’re sure about this?” he asks, beaming at Michael in a way that he hasn’t since that night at the Hot Chelle Rae tour.

“Yeah, I’ve only wanted to do it for forever.”

Calum snorts, then ushers him into the bathroom.

“Have you read the directions?” he asks, starting to open the box and squinting at the writing on the back still.

“Yeah.  It’s not that hard, just put the stuff in my hair, sit with it, rinse it, then use the conditioner.  We could probably skip that part though.”

“Not with how often you flat-iron it.  Otherwise your hair’s probably going to fall out.”

“Hey,” Michael pouts.  Calum laughs at him.

“It’s just the truth.  Look, there’s gloves.”

“What do we need gloves for?” Michael asks.

“It’ll stain your hands otherwise, idiot.  It’ll stain your shirt, too, if we get it on there, so you might want to take that off.”

He’s wearing a Green Day shirt.  It’s black, so it probably won’t matter that much, but he shrugs and strips out of it anyway.  Calum’s eyes flick up to follow the movement, and he doesn’t look away when Michael catches him at it.  It makes him feel exposed, like Calum’s looking at more than just the bare skin of his chest.  This is as close as they’ve been since over a month ago, and he already feels slightly overwhelmed.

“Ready?” Michael asks finally.  Calum nods, then goes about preparing the bottle of dye.  Michael leans a hip against the sink and watches his hands smoothly twist lids and tip bottles, shaking the concoction until he deems it ready for use.

“Okay,” Calum says, meeting his eyes again.  “We’re supposed to start at your roots.  Do you want to start, and I’ll get the back?”

“Can you just do it?” he asks.  He really had intended to mostly do this by himself, with Calum helping the places harder to see, but now that they’re here he’s not sure he could stand a few minutes of being alone in the bathroom with nothing to occupy Calum’s focus.

“Lazy ass,” he says affectionately.  “Sit on the toilet, then, so I don’t have to reach up all the time.”

Michael does as he’s told, flinching at the first touch of dye to his scalp.

“All good?” Calum asks.

“Yeah, just cold,” he says.  Calum hums, then continues his work, stepping closer to get a good angle.  Michael stares at the logo on his shirt and folds his hands in his lap, resisting the urge to do something silly like wrap them around Calum’s waist and pull him into a hug.

He’s always been so touch-starved for Calum.  Some things never change.

Calum simply continues to rub the dye into his roots, gently massaging his scalp in a way that makes Michael unclench his shoulders and release a soft sigh.  He feels like he’s about two seconds away from purring or making some other sort of embarrassing noise.

“Enjoying this, are you?” Calum asks, amusement evident in his tone.

“Shut up,” Michael says, poking his side.  “You’re good at this and I’ve missed you.”

“We’ve been living together for weeks.  You’d think you’d be sick of me by now.”

“Yeah, but…” Michael trails off.  Calum continues working, the crinkle of the plastic gloves loud in his ears.  If he wants to address it, now would be the time.  He wants things back to how they used to be, but he doesn’t know if he can do that without Calum remembering and at least telling him what it meant.

“Cal, the last night of the Hot Chelle Rae tour, what do you remember?”

Calum’s movement stutters, something so miniscule only a soulmate would probably notice it.  Michael glances up at his face, his wide eyes and clenched jaw.

“I don’t know.  There was a party.  We all got pretty drunk.”

“I didn’t get drunk,” Michael says,  “so I remember a lot.  And there was something that happened.  With us.”

“Mikey, do we have to talk about it?” Calum sighs, putting down the hair dye and stepping away.

“You remember?” Michael asks, suddenly feeling betrayed.  He’s gone around walking on eggshells because they never got to talk about it, and Calum’s remembered this entire time.  They could have talked about it the day after and avoided at least half of the nights Michael’s spent up looking at nothing.

“I kissed you.  You told me to stop.  That’s not something I’m going to forget.”

“Why did you act like you did, then?” he asks.

“I wasn’t about to sit through you letting me down when I’m sober, too,” Calum says, shrinking in on himself a bit.  “I’m not a masochist.  Once was enough.”

“What the fuck?” Michael asks.  He wants to reach out, but Calum’s too far away now.  “I wasn’t going to reject you.”

“You literally did!  You told me to stop and said you weren’t going to kiss me.”

“Cal, you were drunk ,” Michael says.  “You threw up in a bush a few minutes later.  I wasn’t going to have our first time making out when only one of us was sober.  That’s not--you mean too much to me for that.  I didn’t want to take advantage, and if you don’t, like, think of me like that--”

“Wait, wait,” Calum says.  “Think of you like what?”

Michael shifts uncomfortably.

“You know.  Everyone knows.”

“I need you to say it.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Calum says, stepping forward and cupping his cheek.  Then he realizes that he’s still wearing the gloves and flinches away.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.  Oh fuck, where’s a tissue?  You’re gonna have weird marks on your face now.”  Michael laughs, because having hair dye on his face is really the least of his concerns, and Calum’s blushing so hard that he can see it clearly on his cheeks.  He tries to get off the gloves and start the sink at the same time in a move that is, frankly, adorable.

“I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Calum freezes.

“I just--I really am.  I always have been.”

“Fuck, Mikey,” Calum says, turning around to face him fully.  “Me too.  All of it.  I--”

He cuts himself off, and Michael knows how that feels, to not have the words to describe these feelings.  He nods, and reels Calum in, and kisses him.

When it’s slow, with both of them sober and on the same page and in love , kissing Calum is like existing in the space between a dream and waking up.  He feels like he’s floating, tethered to Earth only by Calum keeping him grounded like he always does.  The bump of their noses and the smooth slide of their lips together sends warmth through him, makes him feel surrounded and like paradise despite how he has to crane his neck up and Calum has to lean down since he’s still sitting on the toilet.  When Calum pulls away, he doesn't go far, and Michael keeps his hands around his waist, parting his legs and tugging until Calum steps between them, letting him nose against his stomach.

“Hey, don’t stain my shirt,” Calum says, fingers tugging his hair back.  “Actually, we have to keep dying your hair, or the roots are going to be black when everything else is brown.”

“Don’t care,” Michael says.  He could stay like this all day, just the two of them existing in the same space.

“I do.  I won’t have my first time helping with your hair turn out poorly because you’re too distracting.  Come on.”

Calum steps away and grabs the hair dye, returning to the task at hand.  Michael doesn’t complain too much, because he still gets Calum close this way.  Once they set the timer, Michael sinks down to the floor to sit next to him.  Calum gets a tissue and finally wipes off the dye he put there when he touched it with the gloves on, then makes a face.

“You’re going to look weird for a day.  Sorry.”

“Can’t be weirder than you,” Michael says.  Calum gives him a goofy smile, the kind that turns Michael’s insides into mush.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to insult me like that anymore,” Calum says.  “I think if we’re in love you have to be nice to me.”

“No, because if we’re in love you know I don’t mean it and I know you can take it,” Michael says.  “Besides, you haven’t even asked me to be your boyfriend yet.”

“I think we’re a bit beyond that,” Calum says, softening even more.  He reaches out a finger and traces where the soulmark is hidden under Michael’s jeans.  “You’re my soulmate, Mikey.  I’d marry you right now if you asked, because we’re going to be together forever, anyway.”

“I’d marry you, too,” Michael says.  Calum takes his hand and squeezes, and they sit like that until the timer goes off.

-/-

Ashton and Luke immediately know what’s happened, because of course they do.  They come back from getting groceries with Liz and almost drop the bags at Michael’s new hair color, but once they get over that they catalogue the way they’re holding hands and the pleased look on both of their faces and know.

“Finally,” Ashton says.

“Finally?  You haven’t even been dealing with them as long as I have,” Luke grumbles.  “I’ve had to watch them make moony eyes at each other for years .”

“We don’t make moony eyes,” Michael defends.

“You do,” Luke, Ashton, and Liz all say at the same time.

“Now, boys, I’m very happy for you,” Liz says, putting a hand on each of their shoulders.  “But I am going to lay some ground rules.”

“Separate bedrooms still, we know,” Michael says.

“If you do get up to any funny business, make sure you’re alone and not too loud.  None of us want to witness something that should just be between you two.  Be safe and respect each other.  Just because you’re soulmates doesn’t mean you have to jump into these things right away.  If you need to go to the store to get materials, do so.”

“Okay,” Michael says, because this is a conversation for another day.  Calum’s grip on his hand steadily increased during that speech, and now he’s a little worried his fingers are going to fall off.  “Thanks.”

“Mum, stop tormenting them,” Luke says, slinging an arm around both of their shoulders.  “It’s band movie night.  Ashton really wants to watch Pursuit of Happyness .”

“Can’t we watch something more fun?” Calum asks.  “It’s a good movie, but it’s a slog to get through.”

“Hey!” Ashton calls from the microwave, where he’s already popping popcorn.  “It’s my turn to pick!”

“Not if you pick movies that don’t match the moment!” Michael calls back.  Luke huffs and steers them to the couch, plopping down next to Calum.

“Movie night rules still stand,” he says.  “Ashton gets to pick whatever he wants, because it’s his turn.  Besides, you two probably aren’t going to pay attention, anyway.  You’ll be too busy canoodling.”

“Who the fuck says canoodling anymore?” Calum asks.

“Luke does, and because Luke is the only one being nice to me right now you’re not allowed to make fun of him for it,” Ashton says, plopping down next to Michael with a bowl of popcorn.  Michael immediately steals a handful, and Ashton grumbles and pulls the bowl out of reach, but Michael is determined and takes another handful, accidentally elbowing him in the process.

“Share the popcorn,” Calum demands, and Ashton sighs and puts the bowl on the coffee table so everyone can reach.  Ashton heaves himself up to put in the movie and turn out the lights, and Liz comes by and kisses each of them on the head before going upstairs.

“Hey,” Ashton says once they’re settled but before he’s pressed play, “I’m really happy for you two.  I love you both and you know that Luke and I support you 100%.”

“Thanks,” Michael says.  Ashton smiles and swings an arm around his shoulders.  On the other side, Luke cuddles closer to Calum.  Calum squeezes his hand where it’s held between them, and Michael feels so full of love he might burst with it.

He’s got Calum, someone to love and cherish for the rest of his life, but he’s got Luke and Ashton, too.  All of them pressed together on the couch, colorful and touching because they want to be near, slotting together like puzzle pieces.  They have a dream to chase, the four of them, and maybe the puzzle will switch pictures along the way, but the pieces will still fit.  They’re doing it together.  Regardless of what happens, he knows that they’re always going to be together.

“I really love you guys,” he chokes out, overwhelmed with it.  Ashton presses a kiss to his temple, and Luke reaches over to squeeze his leg.  Calum draws closer, tucking Michael into him, and he knows that he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.