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Rain bounces off the street, pelted from the sky as furious drops of dark water. The storm is so heavy that the rainfall presents itself in one solid, intimidating sheet. Glancing out from the store window shows nothing but a continuous barrage of Floridian tepid raindrops, and it’s enough to make Sapnap shiver despite being perfectly dry.
“Dude,” Dream mutters from beside him. “This was such a bad idea.”
Sapnap tsks. “Scared of a bit of rain?” he teases. He tries to pretend he isn’t equally full of despondency at the thought of walking the five blocks that separate him and his roommate from their home, but it’s kinda hard. It’s pouring, and the Floridian heat is equal parts warm as it is wet. He knows the second they leave the manga store, he’s gonna hear nothing but scathing complaints from the irritating best friend that’s spent the day yapping at his heels like a puppy.
“Nah,” the blond mutters, “it’s just gonna be annoying. I told you we should’ve gone back when it started going all dark—”
He waves his new manga in Dream’s face. “Yeah, but… Demon Slayer,” he drawls. Fed up with the disgruntled expression hanging from Dream’s droopy lips, Sapnap smirks, “go call George or somethin’. Stop whinging. It’s like you’ve never seen rain before.”
Dream sighs. “Fuck you, Sapnap.”
The Texan beams. “Wah, wah, wah. Fuck off. I’m gonna go buy this, then we can go.”
“Good. Hurry up.”
Sapnap’s quick to join the queue. It’s pretty busy, given he and Dream are in a store stacked to the brim with manga. He thinks the sudden downpour must’ve driven any sorry people caught outside into the place. It smells of wet dog and musty jackets, but he’s got what he wanted, so it’s almost gonna be worth the soggy walk back home. He just hopes his jacket is thick enough to protect the sacred pages from the rain.
He finds Dream in the doorway, peering out at the sight of the wet streets in front of them. Something like fascination bobs in those green emerald eyes.
“You sure you wanna go out right now?” he checks.
Dream nods. “Yeah, gotta join a stream in an hour.” He lifts his hands towards the sky. “It’s not gonna stop any time soon, anyway. We should just run.”
“Run,” Sapnap echoes. He feels his expression sour. “Fine.”
“C’mon.”
And then Dream steps out into the rain and laughs, like it’s a totally normal thing to just enter a fucking storm. And Sapnap follows, because it’s Dream, and if he’s gonna be an idiot, then Sapnap’s gonna be right beside him, also behaving idiotically. It’s kinda their thing.
The rain is hot against his skin. Sapnap’s lungs ache as he keeps up with his friend. He lets Dream lead the way back home, pausing occasionally to pull out his phone and take a few photos of the taller man skipping through the rain to send to George, his best friend and Dream’s soulmate. His phone screen is slippery, but it’s worth the effort. Dream looks ridiculous with his hair plastered to his forehead and that stupid grin on his face.
Unfortunately, it only takes two blocks for the adrenaline to burn off and the chill to set in. Sapnap finds himself slowing to a walk, Dream sagging slightly behind him. It’s still raining, but they’re no longer being pelted by the water drops. There’s no need to talk—they’d spent all day together before dropping in at the manga store as their final destination. It doesn’t surprise Sapnap to see his friend slip an airpod into his ear, flash him a smile, then begin to talk to the brunet Brit that undoubtedly sits on the other end of the line.
As if sensing the sudden shift in his thoughts, Sapnap’s soulmate decides to make his presence known. Sapnap feels a small love heart being traced to the top of his right hand. Immediately, he reaches with his left hand and rubs the skin that tingles, returning the contact and failing to suppress the smile that tickles at his lips.
Sapnap doesn’t know much about his soulmate, but he knows he completely adores him. It’s a guy (he knows this, instinctively, even with no evidence), and in a world built with a multitude of different ways to be connected to your soulmate, they share a touch link. Any time Sapnap’s soulmate experiences something physical, be it a touch from himself, another, or just an incredibly intense emotion, Sapnap feels it like it’s happening to him.
It’s pretty cool. They’ve built a whole language together through small caresses and touches. Communication gets pretty interesting when you have nothing to go off but touch, but in a way, it feels like Sapnap knows his soulmate even better than the majority of his friends. He’s learnt that it’s possible to ascertain a lot about someone simply just going off small cues, like the way they brush their hair or fiddle with their hands.
For example, through frequently experiencing a bizarre heaviness pressed to his nails, Sapnap has figured out that his soulmate paints his nails a lot. His soulmate also wears a lot of heavy rings, and they’re usually cold around his fingers. As well as this, he has some kind of weird dependency on chugging cold drinks that fizz at the back of his throat and hurt his tonsils. Every time there’s a particularly harsh tingle in Sapnap’s mouth, his soulmate follows it up by gently tapping his lips in apology with the smooth pads of his fingers.
It can be a mixed bag to be linked so closely, and it’s always weird to feel phantom pains and aches, but usually, it’s awesome. It’s hard to believe they’ve been linked like this for three years. Sapnap swears he can’t remember a moment of his life that he didn’t have such easy access to his soulmate. Everything before the link feels meaningless.
The only thing that’d make it better was if he could actually meet his soulmate, but that’s out of his control. He has to wait until the universe takes pity on them and brings them together. Sapnap is taunted by his belief that it feels as though their link has been growing stronger recently. The padded hearts and soft hugs given by his soulmate have felt more visceral for the last few months, and whilst it’s impossible to know if it’s actually happening or just an invention of Sapnap’s lovesick mind, he’s willing to go with the former.
When his soulmate starts to rub at his upper arms, undoubtedly in response to the hard shivers that wrack across Sapnap’s body, he finds himself smiling. The friction draws heat to his own skin and lessens the suffering the awful Floridian weather brings him. It goes on for another block, then the movements pause. Sapnap is just starting to pout when he feels an intense warmth envelope every part of him. It runs deep into his bones and ends his shivering in less than ten seconds.
He knows what this is.
His soulmate has taken a bath. To warm him up.
Amidst the rain and the heat, Sapnap melts.
“You good?” Dream calls out. Sapnap realises he’s stopped walking.
“I fuckin’ love my soulmate, dude,” he mutters.
Dream cracks a wry smile. “You don’t even know him.”
“Don’t care. Didn’t ask. I love him.”
Whoever the hell he is, Sapnap’s soulmate is nothing short of generous. He stays in a bath until Sapnap’s able to peel off his clothes and mirror the actions himself, and as lavender-scented bubbles cascade over his clammy skin, his soulmate presses a hand over his heart. There are three taps—it’s always three taps, their special little code for affection—and Sapnap matches the movement by bringing his fingers to his mouth and pressing it thrice. He can almost feel his soulmate’s smile aching at his lips.
George is twitching. The brunet is not-so-subtly rolling his eyes, and the sharp HD camera connected to their discord call captures every fleck of irritation that shadows his onyx eyes. A stark blush coats his cheeks.
“Chill out, dude,” Sapnap murmurs, tossing in a roll of his eyes for good measure. “Stop twitchin’. He’ll be here.”
“He was supposed to be here half an hour ago,” comes the strained reply. George crosses his arms and the bright green sleeves of his hoodie tumble across his chest. As he pouts, Sapnap can almost feel the quickening heartbeat of his housemate, sitting beside him, who peers intently at the screen. “This stream is sponsored, Sapnap. I have to start.”
“Can’t you give him another five minutes?”
It’s clear the Brit isn’t seriously peeved, but his minor irritation expresses itself perfectly as George tosses his head back and groans at the ceiling. “I suppose. Can you try calling him again, Sapnap?”
“Uh-huh.”
Sapnap slips off his headphones and passes them to the blond beside him. As Dream takes them, he eyes the shake in his hands with concern.
“You okay?”
The raven swallows.
He feels unsettled. Taut. Not only is George on the verge of a tantrum, but Sapnap also has to contend with the strong twang of anxiety that thrums from his soulmate, manifesting itself in the tight pulling of his muscles. Not much beyond physical touch can be shared across the soulbond, but intense emotions sometimes break into the link. The general haze of panic coupled with the repeated movements of fingers twisting and cold rings twirling around knuckles tells Sapnap that his soulmate is in distress. George’s whinging about Karl being late to his stream is really the least of his concerns.
Sapnap manages a shrug. “‘m fine,” he mumbles. With his hands free, he’s able to trace a few patterns across the back of his palm. He hopes his soulmate finds it soothing. “I’m gonna go call Karl.”
He can feel Dream’s eyes hanging off him as he walks from the room, but he tries to shrug it off. If anyone’s bound to understand how confusing a soulbond can be, it’s Dream. He and George share the link frequently dubbed as the Freaky Friday connection, which sometimes means Sapnap walks into the kitchen to find George instead of Dream. The whole thing works out in Sapnap’s favour, but it was confusing for all three when the link first manifested itself and zapped his best friend halfway across the world.
After tugging the phone from his basketball shorts and quickly pulling up Karl’s number, Sapnap leans against the hallway wall and brings two fingers to the bridge of his nose. He can still feel his soulmate’s discomfort, and though he tries his best to soothe him, he can’t fall back on his usual techniques of having a warm bath or hot drink. All he can do is wrap his free arm around his chest and slowly stroke at his side.
The phone rings. It rings, and rings. Sapnap thinks it’s gonna go through to voicemail again, and he’s just brainstorming ways to help George find a fourth to fill his stream when it finally connects.
Sapnap inhales. “Karl?”
There’s heavy static for a few moments. “Sapnap.” Karl’s voice crackles down the line. “Hey.”
“Jesus, Karl,” he murmurs. “Where the hell are you? George is about to fuckin’ explode.”
He can feel a tingling in his lower lip.
“‘m on my way back,” Karl mutters, “got held up on a shoot with Jimmy.”
“Oh.” Sapnap leans further against the wall. “Okay. D’you know how long you’ll be…?”
“Prob’ly about ten minutes. I dunno. Chandler’s driving me back right now.”
“Okay.” It’s hard to concentrate with the repetitive spin of phantom rings twirling around fingers. He feels the urge to balance his phone in the crook of his neck and bring his hands together. When Sapnap links his fingers and starts to gently curve his thumbs over the space where ghost rings spin, the action finally stops. He hears a breathy exhalation from Karl and hastens to add, “sorry, I’m just… doesn’t matter. I’ll tell George you’re almost here.”
“Thanks, Sap.” Karl pauses for a second. His voice comes out smaller. “Does he hate me?”
“Nah. ‘Course not.” There’s a hard frown between his eyes. “George loves you, dude. We all do.”
Karl’s swallow is audible. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and Sapnap feels the tension leave his shoulders. “Appreciate ya. I feel really bad about being late.”
“Don’t even worry about it, nimrod,” he chimes. He must be on a roll today. Comforting two stressed people at once is no joke. “He’s chatting with Dream right now, anyway.”
His friend scoffs. “Bet he loves that.”
Sapnap smirks. “He totally does. They’re so sick.” He groans playfully. “You’re so lucky you don’t have to live with one of them, dude. It’s hell sometimes.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh. All night, every night… Oh, George, can I do anything for you? Can I send you money? Can I call you? Can I polish your shoes?” Sapnap’s just being annoying now, pitching his voice up higher, but it has the desired effect of drawing that loud, trilling laugh down the line. Karl wheezes out a giggle, and Sapnap’s cheeks ache from smiling. “Disgusting.”
“Gross,” Karl agrees. “Soulmates are the worst.”
A thin smile finds his lips. “Yeah.” Sapnap shrugs. “Still kinda wish I knew who mine was, though.”
There’s a brief silence. All he can hear is the thrumming of tyres against the road and Karl’s light breathing. Soulmates are considered a pretty private topic of discussion; despite being pretty close, Sapnap doesn’t know if Karl has a soulmate, if he’s found them, or even the type of bond he shares with his partner. He wonders if he’s crossed a line by just broaching the subject.
“Me too,” Karl eventually says. Sapnap feels soft circles passing over the inside of his wrist. The sweltering pressure of anxiety has dissolved now, and he’s glad for it. “I really wish I knew.”
His eyebrows arch slowly. “You don’t?”
“Nah. Not yet.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry for you too.”
He squeezes at his hand and exhales again when his soulmate ghosts a thumb over the pressure point. “It’s okay,” he manages, “one day I’ll meet ‘em. You will too.”
Karl chuckles. “Hope so.” There’s the clicking of a turning signal, then his voice comes out stronger. “I’m back home now. Could ya tell George I’ll be two minutes?”
“Mhm. See ya in a minute, then?”
“See ya, Sap.”
He lingers in the hallway for just a moment before forcing himself to move on. With a slight grimace on his face, Sapnap slips back into the bedroom and interrupts an incredibly lovesick-looking exchange between his best friends. Together, they wait for Karl to join the call, and when he’s finally linked up his camera, he stumbles through a red-faced apology that falls on George’s smiling face. The man is much more chipper after a few moments alone with Dream.
Sapnap keeps his fingers linked together for the entirety of the stream, not entirely present on the challenge George has concocted for them. He focuses instead on slowly palming at each part of his hands that his soulmate ends up gripping to. He doesn’t let go, and even after the call disconnects and Dream slopes from his room, he just moves his routine to the bed. After draping a long hoodie around his arms, Sapnap curls in on himself, wrapping his arms around his chest and squeezing.
His soulmate returns it. He’s held back, the touch warm and gentle. He can almost feel the gratitude coasting through their link, and it’s polished off when he feels three taps knocked against his wrist. He returns it immediately.
Sapnap spends the next week yearning for his soulmate. Yearning in the most obvious and embarrassing ways, so loudly and despondently that Dream picks up on it and teases him relentlessly. Though he tries to throw himself at distractions in a weak attempt at staving off the ache, he just finds it worsening every time he leaves a call after streaming with Karl or George.
He knows that he has to be patient, but it’s pretty goddamn hard, not to mention annoying as hell. He wants to meet his soulmate. George and Dream are so happy, all of the time, and whilst he’s overjoyed that his friends have found one another, bitterness is all too willing to spew across his heart. Interestingly, Sapnap’s irritation isn’t limited to them alone. It seems as though everyone’s been annoying him recently. Each time Sapnap listens to the melancholic warble of Karl’s laugh, he feels his skin burn.
Sapnap picks up the habit of throwing himself at boxing or skating in an attempt at softening his sadness. His soulmate probably thinks he’s gone crazy, but he never expresses that directly—only rubs over aching knuckles and takes long baths whenever Sapnap pulls a muscle in his back or shoulder. He’s patient, which is something Sapnap can’t exactly resonate with but appreciates nonetheless.
It’s been a particularly rough Thursday afternoon when Dream finally seems to reach the end of his tether. He pulls Sapnap from the house and drags him to the local skate park.
“Go on,” he urges, lips pulled into a knowing smirk, “get it out.”
His skateboard acts as the perfect vessel for his pent-up energy. As the panda-print board coasts across the skate park, he practices some of the tricks he’s spent hours analysing through blurry youtube videos. Sapnap’s getting pretty good if he says so himself, and his ambition carries him over ramps and jumps and pipes, going faster and faster until the cool wind in his hair tugs the rest of the irritation from his shoulders.
Much to his disappointment, he’s forcefully reminded that he’s not quite a pro yet when his back foot goes stiff, and he fucks up a jump. A pained grunt slips past his lips as his knees bear the brunt of the fall, and he goes skidding to the ground.
“Ow,” he mutters. “Fuck off.”
Swearing, Sapnap pulls himself to his feet. A glance at his knees confirms that he’s managed to bash them up pretty good. He bends over to stare properly at the scuffed pink skin, flecked with a few lines of blood, and the tip of his nose scrunches up as he brushes a few bits of stone away from his injury.
“You good?”
He looks up at Dream. “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m—”
Kisses. There are kisses. That’s… new. Sapnap startles as he feels the tender fluttering of warm lips across his knees, gentle and soothing. It smears the ache away and replaces any sensations of pain with giddy feelings of care. Sapnap finds his depression softening.
“Dude, are you blushing right now?” Dream’s squinting at him with that expression that screams smugness. Mirth joins the mix when Sapnap’s hands flinch towards his tingling knees. “Dude. You’re totally blushing.”
“I’m not goddamn blushing, Dream.” His face is on fire, but it isn’t a blush. It isn’t. His smug excuse of a best friend isn’t gonna win.
“You are totally blushing.” Dream points at Sapnap’s knees. His eyebrows raise. “What’s he doing? Is he giving your boo boo a little kiss?”
“Oh my god,” Sapnap groans. His friend’s eyes light up with vindication.
“He is! Oh my god, he is!” The blond cackles. “And you’re blushing. Awwww.” Dream smiles at him, sickly sweet. “Does Sapnap have a little crush?”
“I fucking hate you, man.”
“Stop being so angry. Your soulmate’s doing something really cute and you—”
Sapnap flips him off. He flops down onto the warm tar of the sidewalk and brings his knees to his chest, continuing to run his fingertips over every part that tingles. On his end, he’s still aware of the raw scrapes and the deep bruises, but it’s softened by his soulmate who seems intent on raining kiss after kiss of sweet comfort over the wounds. It’s fucking cute. It’s fucking cute, and Sapnap has to screw his eyes shut and hope he doesn’t look like a lovesick idiot curled in on himself on the side of the skatepark.
Dream slaps his shoulder. “Whipped,” he mutters. There’s no malice in those piercing green eyes.
Sapnap finally finds a quip capable of wiping the smugness off the blond’s face. “Uh-huh? You wanna talk about being whipped, Dream? That’s a conversation you wanna have?”
His friend blushes. “I’m just gonna…” he points vaguely in the direction of the skate ramp, then walks off, typing one-handedly on his phone. He occasionally glances back at Sapnap to smirk.
Sapnap doesn’t get up until it starts to rain. Even then, he can still feel soft kisses against his skin and eager fingertips brushing over the base of his thighs. Even as it breaks and the movements stop, they occasionally repeat as afternoon stretches to evening. He ends up returning the favour by pressing three tentative kisses to his wrist, and his face flames as his partner mirrors the movement on his other hand.
He ends up on call with Karl a few nights later, weary but content. It’s been a long day, softened slightly by reassurance in the form of soft touches across his collarbones. The pressure had helped, and now he’s just sleepy.
“Sap?” Karl asks.
“Uh-huh?”
“Are you still there?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”
“‘s okay. Just wasn’t sure.”
They’ve found themselves alone quite a lot recently. Often he finds himself falling asleep with Karl’s voice whispering into his ear. They fit together pretty damn well. Sapnap enjoys being able to zone out and stare at the ceiling as he listens to tales from the older man’s day; and in return, he’s able to find an outlet to mutter about all the pesky things that none of his friends care about enough to warrant a guiltless vent. Karl cares, even when the topic of conversation is something dumb like Valorant or CS:GO, and Sapnap can always count on getting a reaction worth speaking for when he confides in the other man.
He likes Karl a lot. There’s something incredibly soothing about the gentle timbre in his voice, and the rumbling jibes that he wraps around fond terms of endearment. They bounce off one another in a way that lights up the whole room, and Sapnap thinks he could probably tell Karl anything, and it’d be safe with him. As sappy as it sounds, their conversations feel like a warm hug, and Sapnap’s chest always feels brighter just from knowing it’s Karl on the other side of the line. He doesn’t get like this with any of his other friends. He tries not to think about that.
“Whatcha thinking about?” Sapnap asks. He brings a hand towards his face to stifle a yawn, then lets his thumb briefly rub along the plush curve of his lip.
Karl giggles slightly. “My soulmate,” he admits. “He’s… in bed, I think. Keeps yawning and rubbing his eyes. He does this thing where he gets sleepy ‘n starts playing around with his hands. I can feel it, ‘cause, y’know, the link.”
Sapnap’s expression softens. “Your soulmate is a guy?”
“Yeah. Got kicked in the balls a few years back.” Karl’s fond laugh crackles down the line. “He’s a nimrod. It hurt.”
“Mine is a guy too,” Sapnap boasts.
“For real?”
“Uh-huh.” A smile spins across his lips, disgustingly fond, disgustingly lovesick. “He’s a guy, ‘n he’s really cute, Karl.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm. Is yours?”
“Definitely. My soulmate is super cute.”
“Good.” Sapnap’s lips ache. His soulmate is gnawing his lower lip again. “You deserve someone real cute, Karl.”
“So do you, Sap.”
Something bitter twists in his stomach. It coils and snaps as he thinks about Karl holding hands with someone else. He tries to blink it away and covers his shameful line of thinking with something reflexive.
“What kinda link do you guys have..?”
Karl drums his fingertips over a hard surface. He hears the soft tapping. “Just, uh… emotions and touch, y’know? Pretty normal.”
Sapnap hums. “Mine too.” He sits there for a second. He feels a small heart being traced across his wrist. “Makes it hard to find someone when it’s so common,” he muses, “would be so much easier if we got those weird dreams or the body swap thing.”
“Ha,” Karl muses, “you’d wanna wake up in someone else’s body?”
“Maybe. I dunno.”
“Speak for yourself.” There’s a soft pause. “I like the touch link,” Karl follows up. “It feels… intimate. Constant. If it were dreams, or colours, or body swaps, that’d just be… temporary. This way, I get him all the time. I dunno who he is or what he does, but I know all it takes is a touch, and I’ve got him.”
Sapnap draws his fingers over the site of the incessant heart prints. His soulmate is still drawing them, looping and looping the curves and the points. Warmth prickles in his eyes.
“That’s actually a really good way of looking at it,” he mutters. “I’m g’nna think about it like that. Thanks, Karl.”
“No problem.” The other man yawns. He sounds sleepy. Sapnap briefly wonders if he’s bundled up in that cute purple hoodie. He has a habit of tying the strings beneath his chin, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t the cutest thing in the world. “I gotta go,” he murmurs, “busy day t’morrow. Night, Sap.”
“See ya, Karl.”
The call disconnects. The hot plastic of Sapnap’s phone slips through his fingers, and he finds himself too tired to dig his power cord into the charging hole. Instead, he lets his final shreds of consciousness focus on the repetitive motion of his soulmate brushing gentle patterns over his hand. Back and forth, soft and warm, gentle index finger stroking and stroking. It’s the best kind of lullaby. He’s almost sad to let himself slip off into sleep.
Phantom caresses follow him into his dreams.
Karl sends him a very interesting text a few days later.
hey sap! jimmy wants to know if u’d be down to film in nc ??? could be rlly fun! lmk!!
It takes Sapnap about a second to shoot back his response: sure!!, and all too soon, he finds himself staring at the flight confirmation email and the empty suitcase in the corner of his room. It’s crazy how quickly everything comes around. He barely has time to register the fact that he’s actually kinda nervous about meeting Karl before the trip creeps up on him.
The morning of his flight, he wakes with an uncomfortable heat in his chest. His heart throbs heavily, to the point where he has to stick a thermometer between his teeth and confirm that he’s not sick before he heads to the airport. Dream drops him off, but not before thrusting a huge water bottle at him as he pushes him out the front seat. Apparently, he looks ‘hot as fuck’, and not in a good way.
He doesn’t know if it’s an illness, but Sapnap definitely doesn’t feel himself. Every step closer to Karl knocks him off balance, and it’s like some cruel trick of fate that the universe has decided to punish him on the day he finally gets to meet his friend. There’s a prickling on his skin in every place his soulmate touches, pulsing and sensitive, and he finds himself holding back reciprocating any contact for fear that his soulmate might be transferred some of his unease.
The flight is uncomfortable, and by the time he’s pulling up to baggage claim in North Carolina, Sapnap feels roasting. His cheeks are hot too, and his skin gives off wave after wave of warmth. There’s a tremble in his fingers as he pulls out his phone and accepts the call that announces itself with a selfie of Karl, sent during one of their late-night calls.
“Hey,” Sapnap manages, swallowing dryly. He’s got his case trundling behind him, and he balances his phone between his shoulder and cheek as he shields his eyes from the bright lights of the terminal and tries to read the signs.
“Sap,” Karl wheezes. There’s a strain in his voice. “I’m here.”
“You good, man?”
“No, I… I feel funky.” Sapnap can hear his pout. “Woke up feelin’ really weird, ‘n now I’m here, it’s worse. It’s like… Like soulmate sickness.”
Oh, Sapnap remembers when Dream got soulmate sickness. The unexplainable illness preceding an event to do with your soulmate, usually a first meeting or an evolution of your soulbond. It was during the night before he blipped with George. He’d spent the whole night rubbing his hand over the blond’s back as he’d retched into the toilet. Sapnap frowns.
“I feel like crap, too,” Sapnap says, the implication of the words spoken by the other not properly registering due to the fuzziness in his brain. “Where are you again?”
“Just the waiting area. What d’ya mean you feel bad too?”
Sapnap shrugs as he follows the crowd of people towards what he presumes is the airport’s exit. “Just woke up feeling bad,” he mutters, “hot. Like, hot hot. Shivery. Feels like I got a fever or somethin’. It’s not terrible, though. It’s jittery, sorta like excitement.”
He expects Karl to comment something stupid, poking fun at him or jibing him to hurry up.
Instead, he gets a hesitant, “...what?” and then feels a very hard pinch to his forearm.
“Ah!” he cries out, almost dropping his damn phone. “Jesus.” He scowls at his arm. “Sorry,” he adds, for Karl’s sake, “just— my soulmate. Sorry.”
He hears an audible gasp.
“Sapnap?”
“What?”
“Sapnap.”
“What? You sound like you’re gonna pass out. Are you okay?” Sapnap pauses. He’s finally out of the secure zone of the airport. Around him are families and partners, children and parents. The sweet scent of roses floods the air, sweet and heavy, perfectly heady. “Can you see me?”
“I can— feel you, holy— what..?” Karl’s stumbling over his words. Down the line, Sapnap can hear him moving. “I’m— I’m near the back, uh… There’s a column thing… Just go towards the light.”
Sapnap’s heart is in the back of his throat. He doesn’t know where he’s supposed to go, but his feet seem to understand the pull that comes with Karl’s voice. He blinks around, vision tinted pink, but the static in his mind is too loud for him to try and work out what the hell is going on. All he knows is Karl. He needs to find Karl. He needs him.
He sees him, finally, his gaze catching onto the bright glance of metal as Karl waves at him frantically. Sapnap’s eyes snap to his, and everything stops.
It stops, and he feels his phone slip through his fingers. The static in his ears stops, as does the erratic pounding of his heart. Karl. It’s Karl. It’s Karl, it’s Karl, it’s Karl.
He’s frozen, but Karl isn’t. The taller lunges forward, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide, and his long legs bring him to Sapnap in a second. There isn’t a moment of hesitation—Sapnap steps forward, suitcase left behind him, and opens his arms just in time for Karl to hurtle against his chest.
He knows, the moment Karl’s cheek presses into the crook of his neck, that the man is his soulmate. He just knows, instinctively, intuitively. The reaction is physical—warmth stemming from his heart, pulsing out to every part of his figure. Gratitude floods him, light and sparkling, and it twists into gut-wrenching relief when he feels Karl depositing a line of soft kisses to his neck. Sapnap keeps his hand moving over his back, blinking back hot tears as he tries, desperately, to figure out how any of this makes sense.
It takes him only a second.
Of course it fucking makes sense. Of course his soul is stitched with Karl’s. He thinks about the late-night discord calls and the yearning left in the darkness when they ended. He thinks about his soulmate’s habits of bathing his throat in caffeinated energy drinks and fiddling with jewellery. He thinks about the soft, persistent touches and the delicately flirtatious love hearts and kisses.
His soulmate is Karl, and it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Sapnap,” Karl whines as he finally pulls away from the Texan. Warm hands catch his waist, and Sapnap can feel them shaking. “It’s...you?” Karl’s pretty grey eyes are steeped in tears, and Sapnap just has to reach up and cup both of his cheeks in the palms of his hands.
“It’s you,” he confirms. A smile seizes his lips, and he beams. Sapnap lets his thumbs brush away the tears of joy that drip down Karl’s face. “You’re… mine. You. Karl.”
“You.”
Karl reaches up and pulls one of Sapnap’s hands from his face, and the Texan watches as he drags it to his mouth and thumbs a heart to his skin before chasing it up with three tender kisses. The action is familiar—it’s been done before, time and time again—but now… now, it’s right. Now, it’s real. Now, Sapnap can follow up the action by squeezing Karl’s cheek, tumbling into those pretty, pretty eyes, and calming the rush in his chest with a deep, heart-stopping kiss.
Their mouths are soft together, Karl’s lips chapped but tender. He’s hesitant, they both are, but when Karl gasps and presses back against him, Sapnap sweeps him closer. All he feels is Karl: a hand on his waist, the other clasping their fingers together; Karl with his lavender body wash and his fluffy hair, Karl anchoring him to the earth. Nothing else matters but the man in front of him. Nothing else will ever matter as vastly.
The kiss breaks, but Karl presses his forehead tightly against Sapnap’s. He keeps his eyes screwed shut and holds onto the tenderness of the moment, the sanctity of clasping one another in the middle of the airport, calm within the chaos.
“This… makes sense,” Karl finally says. “I like this.”
Sapnap opens an eye. He can’t help but blush as Karl connects their gazes. “Are we really dumb for not figuring this out sooner?”
There’s the bite of a lower lip, then a twinkle in Karl’s eyes. “Probably,” he admits. “Kinda shows we’re good for each other, though. Just two huge dumbasses.”
“Hey— speak for yourself,” Sapnap teases. There’s a stupid grin on his lips. “I’m not a dumbass.”
“Uh-huh?” Karl’s eyes dance. “What are ya, then? A smart guy that didn’t figure out we’ve been connected for like three years?”
Sapnap shrugs. “Nah,” he says. His smirk becomes shyer. He can’t stop running a hand through the back of Karl’s soft waves. He can’t stop wanting to kiss him, and hold him, and press his lips against his hand a thousand times over until the outline of his mouth is branded to the paleness. “I’m a happy guy.”
“A dumbass happy guy?”
“Yeah.”
Karl pouts. He looks at him like he’s hung the stars in the sky. “Aww,” he coos. There’s a bright pink blush on his cheeks that only deepens as Sapnap squeezes his waist. “Sap is a sap.”
“You love it.”
There’s a gentle smile from Karl. Slowly, reluctantly, he draws his eyes away from Sapnap for the first time since their hug. A huff falls past his lips. “We should, like… go. People are kinda staring at us.”
Sapnap smiles. “Let ‘em look.”
There’s a loud laugh and a roll of his eyes, then Karl is leaning down to briefly glance their lips together before he hops back. They fight for a second over who’s taking Sapnap’s bag, only for Karl to slap at his hand until he yields. Proudly smirking, Karl slips their hands together.
“C’mon, loverboy,” his soulmate whispers. “Let’s go home.”