Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Each them had three soul marks. 

Each of those marks had been fulfilled. 

Except for one. 

Freddie was particularly worried about that lonely little mark, black against tanned skin, and, when nobody was looking, could be seen running his hand against his chest, right where his marks were located. He fret over not ever being able to find the missing link, and sometimes worried that said link might not even want to be found. It drove John up a wall, but he nonetheless reassured Freddie constantly that, for all they knew, BM, could be in a while different country. "He could even be in the states." John was fond of saying, his tone long having become exasperated after years of such assurances. Roger was often on his side of the arguments, pointing out how some people didn't meet the people whose names stood out against their skin for years upon years.

"Yes." Freddie would respond, still passionate after so many years. He was a fiery soul, and couldn't be persuaded differently of his beliefs, no matter what. "But, maybe he already knows is and- don't look at me like that." 

Yes, the world was biased against them. Three soulmates was uncommon, but not unheard of. It was four, that one extra set of initials on each of their skin, that made people insult and snark like it was some horrible disease. Freddie hated it, but was also the person who feared that BM knew who they were, knew he was destined to be with them, and consequently was now avoiding them at all costs. It was a common practice for soulmates to spend life alone, or with other people who didn't want to be with their destined person, out of necessity or personal preference. 

But it didn't make the sting hurt any less. 

They were happy as anybody could be, and that should've made it hurt less. After all, one soulmate not being there didn't matter right? They were fine just with each other. 

"Three works better than four." John said. 

But Freddie didn't look convinced, and Roger just sighed and put the kettle on. 

Three might work better than four, but the mark still was there, a permanent reminder of the man (or woman, but that was increasingly unlikely) who remained a constant engima, a piece of the unknown. It drove everybody crazy. 

Despite his constant reassurances, even John began to feel the effects of the soulmate that wasn't there. 

At night, when the two men that he shared his life with were asleep, a sort of France would take over John, and he would be unable to do anything else but stare at the initials that had been etched onto his collarbone by the creator of life himself, who had barely tossed a few scraps to them whenever curiosity became too much and one of them decided to try and maybe find their soulmate. 

But life was good. 

John and Freddie and Roger were happy. They loved each other, and didn't care what society said about their union. 

But BM was like a shadow, out of reach, but never out of mind. 

And then, one day, John had a day off. He was alone in their shared flat, watching some cheesy romantic comedy, having heard from Mary Austin, their neighbor and close friend, that somebody was moving into the flat beside their own that day but not really thinking about it until his mark began to burn in that familiar way that it had two previous times. 

It burned just something could be heard, thumping against their shared wall. 

The one they shared with the previously empty flat. 

John had felt his heart drop in a combination of terror and happiness and disbelief and- 

What? 

It was a multitude of emotions that came like an unexpected tidal wave, and it brought millions of questions with it. Questions and fears and possibilities, with no answers to accompany them. 

Roger came home a few hours later, and John could tell that he'd felt it too. 

The burning, the ache, the black mark. 

"Who? Who?" Roger asked, voice thick with desperation. He looked like he was about to have a breakdown with the new revelation. John had forced him to sit down, weary of Roger fainting. 

"Our neighbor." John answered. And he repeated the answer just an hour later, when Freddie came home in a panic. 

Their neighbor, by a stretch of luck, or perhaps unluck, if that was even a word, was their soulmate. 

Or, at least, they assumed. 

Either way, John found himself staring at the wall that separated them, just a few centimeters of wood and paint. 

Their soulmate, their potential lover, their missing piece, was there. It was unbelievable, but it was true, and John found his heart aching alongside the mark whenever he heard BM moving around, knowing that, in all likelihood, he should not be in that flat, but because of their luck and fate, here they were. 

- 

"I don't get why you're holding back on this." Freddie said, taking a lengthy sip of his tea. There was an indignant tone in his voice, as if he absolutely couldn't believe why he was wasn't being allowed to storm all the way over to next door and spill the secret. Or not secret. 

Surely, BM should be feeling his marks burn, too. 

Roger sighed as he took another bite of his eggs. "Whether you like it or not, Fred, he might not even be ours." He pointed out. 

But that was a lie, because it was all too much of a coincidence. 

They only felt the burning when it was clear that their new neighbor was in his flat. John would hear something, a simple noise that would travel through the thin walls, and then his mark would burn. The darkness would lighten, but only temporarily. 

"Maybe he's ignoring it on purpose." John said, but that didn't make sense, and neither did any other attempt to make reason of the situation. 

Freddie smiled thinly. "Oh, dear. You know that doesn't make sense." 

- 

John startled awake. 

It was early morning. The birds hadn't even woken up yet, but there was a noise..so distinct...so familiar, floating through the air like a melody. It took a moment for John's sleep-addled brain to think and figure out what the noise was, but it only confused him further when he figured it out. 

Somebody was playing guitar. 

Freddie was deep in sleep on one side, and the same could be said about Roger, who'd buried his head in the pillow and didn't seem ready to let up. John was almost ready to assume that he was in a dream, because they had to have woken up at such a noise. But the noise seemed too real, too present, and John knew, deep in his heart, that it wasn't a dream. 

He carefully slipped out of bed, weary of jostling or making too much nosie. John winced at the feeling of cold wood against his bare feet, but persisted as he crept across the room toward the balcony. He didn't want to go outside when it was barely bright enough to light up the streets, but he did brush past the curtains, and glance outside. 

It was surprisingly easy to see what was going on. John could see people on the street heading for their early morning commute, and a moggie licking its fur in a nearby alleyway, and then on the balcony to his left, a certain hunched figure with long, curly hair. 

Their neighbor (and perhaps something more) was playing the guitar in the unholy hours of the morning. 

John wasn't sure if he should be angry or amused or what. 

So, instead, he was just stood there, unsure and enraptured. The sound wasn't particularly loud, but from what John could hear, it was absolutely beautiful. 

It was almost worth being woken up over, just to hear the beautiful sound of skillful fingers dancing across chords in an age old play. 

There was something about it, a slender finger in white, playing guitar in the early morning when nobody could hear him, that made John's heart ache. He stood there, practically immobile, half tempted to step out to the balcony but wondering if his neighbor would notice him and stop playing. 

"J'n? What- whatcha doin'?" Roger's voice interrupted the peace. John whirled around and stared at the other man, who had barely lifted his head from the pillow. Roger blinked, and then frowned. "What is that noise?" He asked, confused. 

As if the whisper had been overheard, the guitar stopped. 

John looked back outside, but the neighbor had disappeared back inside. 

"Nothing." John whispered back, walking back over to the bed and carefully slipping back in. Freddie grumbled deep in his throat, tossing his arm over John's waist and pulling him closer. Roger smiled sleepily at the sight. 

Squashed between the two men he loved more than life itself, a strange sort of peace enveloped John, a sweet calm in the early morning hours. He kissed Roger's cheek, and then allowed himself to fall under the sea of sleep. 

His last conscious thought was of the mysterious man, and the way he seemed to almost cry as the melody drifted in the air. 

Chapter Text

"Did anybody else hear a guitar last night?" Freddie asked. 

Roger paused, and then lowered his fork, still full of eggs. "Is that what that noise was?" He said, glancing between Freddie and John, looking confused. "I could've sworn I heard some sort of noise last night..." He drifted off. 

Both of them looked at John, clearly expecting an answer. 

John finished pouring his tea, wondering if he should tell the truth. It felt oddly like a secret between himself and the neighbor, and he loathed to tell a secret, but that was ridiculous, wasn't it? "The neighbor was up early this morning." He said, breaking the contact so he could grab the sugar. "He was playing guitar in his balcony." 

Freddie furrowed his eyebrows, perplexed. "How odd." He said. But there was no judgement in his voice, only a vague sort of amusement. 

"So, that was what you were watching last night?" Roger said with a small smile. "Our soulmate play his guitar?" 

John scoffed. "I just wanted to see what he was doing." He said, sitting down on the free chair at the dining table. He carefully sipped his scalding tea, weary of burning his tongue again. 

"Oh?" Freddie raised his eyebrows. "So you're finally going to acknowledge that he's our soulmate?" 

"I didn't say that!" John hurried to say. 

But Roger had gotten a mischievous little smirk on his face. "But you didn't deny it when I said 'soulmate'." He pointed out, shoveling another bite of eggs into his mouth. 

John opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it again with an irritated huff. Truth be told, he did believe that the neighbor was the final piece, but he was nervous about it. For years, they'd lived in a fantastic union, and maybe it was stupid, but he was nervous that adding another person would just screw it all up. 

But that was unfair. John loathed to think about what would've happened if he had applied this logic when he and Freddie were together, alone, and had met Roger. If they hadn't been accepting and welcoming, then they wouldn't be in the same apartment as this wonderful man who had integrated himself into their bubble quite nicely. 

Freddie must've sensed the inner debate going on in John's mind, and so he reached out, setting his hand on John's arm in a comforting gesture. "Don't think too hard about it." He advised.

John sighed. "I'm being stupid." He drowsed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But what if- what if there's a reason that we haven't met him until now?" 

Frowning, Roger leaned foward. "Like what?" He asked. 

John shrugged. "I don't know. See! I told you that I was being stupid." 

"Don't say that. Your concerns are valid, dear." Freddie said. 

Were they? John didn't know, but also didn't want to disrupt breakfast with even more talk of such a subject, so he just smiled. "Alright." He said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere a little. "I say that there's an extreme possibility- possibility, I said- that he's our soulmate." 

Freddie perked up considerably. "So you admit it, eh?" He stood up so he could wash his plate. 

"Well, of course there's a possibility." Roger said. "Our marks burn whenever he's nearby. There's more than a possibility, all that's up in the air is whether or not Mr. Guitar at 3 o'clock in the morning is feeling the same thing."  

"And-" Freddie sat back down. "How are we supposed to go about asking?" 

"Easy." Roger said with a smile. "Even if he isn't our soulmate, who can resist-" He motioned all around the table. "-us?" 

John laughed, some of his anxiety melting away. Freddie and Roger had that effect on him, seemingly possessing the ability to make the troubles of the world feel a little less horrible. He was reassured, in that brief, precious moment, that they were together, and that nothing would be able to tear them apart. 

A sharp, burning pain interrupted the moment. John bit his tongue in surprise, his head jolting down so he could stare at the marks that stained his palm. 

Freddie gasped, his hand slapping against his collarbone. "Oh, not again." He said softly. 

Roger winced and rubbed at his neck uncomfortably. 

Barely a second later, the sound of a door closing could be heard. 

The burning lingered for a moment or two, before subsiding. It was probably the worst thing about not having your soulmate, which was saying something impressive. 

"Damned things." Roger hissed. 

John rubbed his hand, staring down at the two initials that said so much, but revealed so little. 

- 

Somebody knocked on the door. 

In unison, John and Freddie said, "Not it." 

Roger groaned and got up from the couch, setting aside his phone and stretching out. "Lazy sods." He complained with a dramatic sigh, walking toward the door and purposefully shuffling his feet until another knock sounded. 

Just to be sure, Roger glanced through the peephole, and smiled at the sight that awaited him. 

He unlocked the door and swung it open. 

Mary Austin was their neighbor, close friend, and occasional confidante, a woman of great intelligence and a sharp wit who had oftentimes served as the voice of reason. Despite this, Freddie worried about her, due to her rather lackluster relationship with the man whose name was etched onto Mary's skin. 

But Mary had long kicked him to the curb, and now sported a tattoo over the name on the back of her neck. 

"Hello." Mary said with a smile, pulling Roger into a loving hug that was quickly returned with just as much enthusiasm. "Its been too long, hasn't it?" She said, pulling away and patting his cheek fondly. 

"Definitely." Roger agreed, stepping aside so Mary could enter the apartment. 

Footsteps sounded, and just like that, Freddie appeared, arms wide and eyes shining. "Well, nice for you to come visit." He said in mock irritation, but nonetheless, they both hugged. 

Mary laughed softly. "Well, nobody visited me either, you bunch of hypocrites." She replied, but there was no anger in her voice. 

John walked over. "Are these men bothering you, Mary?" He said, wrapping his arm around Mary's shoulders and pulling her close. 

Freddie rolled his eyes. 

"You could say that." Mary said, ducking out from under the grip and walking into the living room. "I can't stay for long, boys." She said with a tone of regret. "I have to get along to work, but first, I have some news." 

"Oooh- Do tell." Freddie said, hurrying along so he could sit beside her, and then he paused. "Wait, good or bad news?" He asked. 

"Good news, Fred." Mary answered. 

John went and sat on Mary's other side, leaning against her shoulder while Roger plopped down on the chair that sat adjacent from them. 

Mary smiled and looked around at the expectant faces all around her, clearly awaiting to build up the anxiety of what she was about to say. 

She splayed her hands and took a deep breathe. "I'm in a relationship." Mary announced. 

Startled silence followed the proclamation. 

Freddie visibly jolted back in surprise, clearly having not expected the news. For as long as they'd known Mary, she had always been weary of getting into a relationship. 

Her soulmate had been unable to hold down a job, and didn't care a single bit about Mary. Though their relationship had been short and blissfully brief, it seemed to have scarred Mary in more ways than one.

"Really?" Freddie finally said, breaking the tense and rather shocked silence. "That's amazing, Mary! Good for you." He pulled her into a half-hug. 

In just a few short seconds, the atmosphere had turned from awkward to cheerful. "I'm happy for you. You deserve to have somebody that loves you just as much as you love them." Roger said, trying to put as much emotion and meaning as he could into those words. Mary seemed to catch on, and she put her hand on his leg in silent understanding. 

"Who's the lucky fellow?" John asked, leaning toward with raised eyebrows. 

Mary looked rather anxious. "Well..." She trailed off, a rather nervous smile playing on her lips. "His name is Peter. Freddie, do you remember him? Peter Strakken? You two were friends but then you moved away?" 

Freddie frowned and thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Oh, yes. I've been thinking about him recently. Very nice man." He said approvingly. 

All three of them were happy for Mary, of course- love was a wonderful thing, and to find your true, mental soulmate instead of just the name whose name you were just with forever was a wonderful thing, but it only reminded them of their own struggle. 

"Now, we just have to file it in with the Prime Minister." Mary said, but nobody was worried about that particularly. 

Whenever somebody found their soulmate in somebody who they were never meant to be with, then they had to put in a claim to the Prime Minister, stating their names, occupations, and why they couldn't marry their original soulmates. 

Luckily, The UK was forgiving with that sort of thing. All three of them were confident in that Mary and Peter would be approved, and that their friend could start over with somebody who really, truly loved her.

Now, if only they could find out if the same could be said for them.