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When Kai was young, he had chalked up the roses blooming all over his body to his soulmate being clumsy. He was no stranger to scraped knees and elbows himself. In middle school, he grew more and more concerned when hardly a week could pass without him bearing floral tattoos at least somewhere on his body. And when he was of high school age, Kai started to fear that his soulmate may be a gangster of sorts, since Kai often had at least one rose inked somewhere on his skin—beautiful, but worrying. Or maybe his soulmate was a boxer. A soccer player? Wrestler? The tattoos were always in odd places too—one time he’d woken up with a crown of them across his forehead. He’d worn his bangs flat that day, but it had still been noticeable enough that his friends teased him about it.
“They might be as dumb as you are, considering an injury there should have cost them some brain cells,” Taehyun said in amusement, laughing when Kai thumps him indignantly in the shoulder.
Yeonjun pulled back his bangs to examine his soulmarks. “They’re pretty,” he’d remarked, “you didn’t have to hide them, Ning.” Soobin had nodded in agreement, but as outgoing as Kai was around his closest friends, he was a shy person overall. So he hid them when he could because he never knew what to say when people asked him about his roses other than that he obviously hadn’t found his soulmate yet.
And when he couldn’t—well, he felt a little ridiculous going to school sometimes with roses on his chin or on his nose or sprawled across his cheeks, even as pretty as they were. But school was school, and eventually he learned how to cover his marks with foundation from Lea—not that he did it often, because he always felt oddly guilty towards his soulmate when he did. It’s just that people always got distracted by the flowers whenever they appeared on his face and that distracted him, because dozens of eyes on you does that to a person.
(“It’s because you’re pretty,” Soobin had once told him bluntly, “and the flowers make it so much more obvious.” He didn’t really have a response to that, had just ducked his head and rubbed Soobin’s stomach and wondered how his soulmate was holding up.)
Like many others, Kai still hasn’t met his soulmate by the time he enrolls in university. University is a soulmate graveyard. The romantic notion of finding one’s destined goes to die here, because there are parties to be thrown and hookups to be had and too many compatible partners even if they weren’t your soulmate. Kai clings desperately to the possibility that he would meet his soulmate sometime, somewhere in the next few years.
He doesn’t have the smoothest start. His roommate doesn’t show up, he just narrowly avoids having the fire department called for almost burning something in the microwave (typical freshman), and he’s late for his first class. First three classes, actually, because he has a cursed sense of direction. And in between all of that, he’s been collecting rose tattoos in the oddest places again. Thankfully it’s still chilly enough that he can hide most of them, but one of them ends up on the tip of his nose. He ends up wearing a mask outside for an entire weekend just to avoid questions—his nose? Really?
When his roommate finally arrives the week after classes start, it’s in the middle of one of his painting sessions, which means there’s a tarp covering most of the carpet area. He’s a messy painter, and sometimes he doodles on his own skin while he waits for his canvas to dry. Now is unfortunately one of those times, so when he turns around, he immediately feels a blush creeping up his neck when he sees his roommate—presumably, since he has a moving cart with him—staring. And of course he has to be cute too. This is the worst.
“H-Hello,” he says tentatively, covering his face self-consciously. He’s covered them in an assortment of flowers, though they’re predominantly roses like his soulmarks. “Sorry, I’ll clean up.”
“It’s fine,” the boy says quickly. “Wow, are you an art major? That looks amazing.” He points to his canvas, then his cheeks. “I’m Choi Beomgyu, by the way. You can call me hyung, I started a year late.”
Kai dips his head. “Beomgyu-ss- hyung,” he amends. “I’m Huening Kai.”
Beomgyu waves airily. “Just do your thing,” he says, “I’ll stay out of your way. I’m guessing I get the top bunk?”
“If that’s okay,” Kai says, “did you want to switch?”
“Nah, top bunk is awesome,” Beomgyu responds, flashing a wide grin. “Always wanted to try bunk beds.”
Beomgyu is pretty when he smiles. His eyes crinkle into crescents and he’s not afraid to show his teeth. The prospect of having to room with him is suddenly terrifying.
Kai is late to his psychology class. It’s the first lecture, which means they’ll likely be going over the syllabus and he’s not going to miss anything important, but it’s still embarrassing trying to slink inside and find a seat.
“Kai-yah,” he hears someone hiss, and he almost flinches when he sees Beomgyu, who pats the empty seat next to him.
“Thank you,” Kai murmurs as he takes a seat next to him.
“I didn’t know you were in this class,” Beomgyu whispers, and then he spends the next 45 minutes chatting Kai’s ears off. Beomgyu seems content with Kai’s occasional hums and nods, and Kai is content with watching Beomgyu more than his professor.
“You play the piano?” Beomgyu asks as he juts his chin in the direction of Kai’s keyboard while idly strumming his guitar.
Kai shakes his head. “It’s just for decoration.”
Beomgyu looks confused for a moment before throwing Kai a wicked grin. “Hey, I didn’t know you were the sarcastic type.”
“I’m not usually,” Kai says with a smile. “Yeah, I play. I won some competitions when I was younger.”
Beomgyu whistles. “Neat. Did you want to go pro?”
“It was either that or art. I made my decision a few minutes before the application deadline.”
“It’s nice to always have known,” Beomgyu muses. “I just applied on a whim and scared my mom half to death.” He plucks a string. “I really like music, though.”
“That’s really all you need,” Kai says as he stares at his canvas, but what he means is I wish that’s all you need. He sets down his brush and gathers his courage. “I can play guitar, too.”
“Oh really?” Beomgyu perks up at this. “Show me.”
“I’m not that good.” He really isn’t compared to Beomgyu, and he’s more than a little rusty.
“Play for me anyway,” Beomgyu says with an easy smile and hands him his guitar and pats the space on the couch next to him, like he did last week in class. It’s acoustic, not what he’s used to playing, but he fiddles around until he can play a simple tune. It sounds slightly off, though.
Beomgyu nudges his fingers to the correct chords, and Kai feels warm where they touch, and like he’s starting to fall, exactly like he’s not supposed to.
Kai hurts all over. While he’s glad he’s the one who took the hit instead of the grandmother he was helping across the street, getting bumped by a car is not on his priority list. The first thing he does is dive into bed, only to hear Beomgyu slam the door open soon after.
“Kai-yah, oh my god. I think my soulmate just died or something.”
Kai scrunches his nose. He doesn’t want to make the effort to sit back up, not keen on feeling all his aches acutely again.
“Why?” he asks, face smushed against his pillow.
“Look at me, I’m a goddamn rose bush!” Kai rolls over with a groan, then does a double take at Beomgyu’s marks. They look exactly like his own, red roses not quite in full bloom. He’s covered in marks from head to toe.
“Hey…” Kai starts hesitantly. “Do you have one on your left elbow?”
Beomgyu frowns as he rolls his sleeve up. “Why? Oh, yeah I do.”
“Both knees?”
“Yup.”
“Right palm?”
“Yup.”
Kai feels dizzy. “I just got hit by a car.”
Beomgyu immediately sits down on the edge of his bed. “Poor Kai-yah,” he says sympathetically. “Why are you asking—wait a minute.” He immediately climbs over Kai, caging him in with his body as he pulls back his blanket. Kai squeaks even though there’s nothing to hide—he’s in a set of loose pajamas. “Jesus Christ.” They both stare at each other as they match up soulmarks to scratches and roses to bruises.
“This is revenge,” Kai says softly, breathlessly, “for all the times you’ve marked me in weird places.”
“I’m a little clumsy,” Beomgyu admits, “but some things are out of my control. A flower pot fell on me once.”
“I have so many questions,” Kai says, hesitating only slightly before scooting closer to the wall and patting the space next to him. Beomgyu gets underneath the covers without question, and Kai wonders if that’s how he treats everything.
“Just so you know,” Beomgyu says as he leans his cheek against Kai’s pillow, “I don’t kiss before the first date.”
“I—I wasn’t…”
“Kidding,” Beomgyu says as he brings Kai’s hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. “Sorry that I’m kind of happy you got hit by a car.”
“It’s okay.” Kai is certain he’s red by now as Beomgyu tugs their hands back underneath the blanket and intertwines them. “What were you doing the week classes started? I got marked on my nose.”
“Oh well. Funny story actually, we went skiing…”