Chapter Text
Ashton was aware from the beginning that there’s something pretty effing weird about his soulmate marks. Aside from the obvious, there’s a mark on your skin that will tell you who your soulmate is weird. Everyone knows that’s weird, right? It’s just... usually the marks only appear once.
Long story short, no one normal has three effing soulmate marks. And it wasn’t like Ashton would ever be able to manage even one.
Even the wildest of abnormalities becomes mundane upon constant exposure, Calum’s mum once said. When Mali explained-- weird things are normal once you’re used to them-- he asked, like three soulmates? and Mali had thought about it for about three seconds before saying yeah, even that becomes normal.
Granted, at the time Calum was twelve. When you’ve had three soulmate marks since you were two, that’s plenty of time for something to stop being weird.
What’s wrong with three soulmates? Luke sometimes said. That’s just two extra people to love.
It’s just not normal, his mum always replied. Sometimes her eyes lingered on the smudge on his jaw that would (hopefully) one day resolve. Her own mark, clear and bold, was always hidden under the collar of her shirt. She only had one. Dad only had one. Jack and Ben, when they got theirs, only had one.
Luke had always figured he was a little strange, and having three marks was just proof.
The smudges were faint enough that for years, Michael didn’t even realize they were there. There was just the one, a blotch on the inside of his elbow like someone had grabbed there with their hands covered in ink. Michael was perfectly normal until the summer he turned fifteen.
Then, hallelujah! Two more in one day. Not easy to miss, either, one dark grey along the top of his shoulder and the other across his ribcage like a bruise. Peachy.
Better bake than bleed, Michael thought, pulling on a hoodie. Better be a little weird than a freak.
“Come on, Hemmings, move your sorry arse!” Ashton yelled. “We’re on in seven minutes.”
“Bite me!” Luke called back, looking under the catering table. “I’ve lost me shoe.” It wasn’t under the catering table, and he sat down to look under the sofa as Ashton said, “Oh, for shit’s sake, Hemmings,” and appeared at the door. “Just get another pair of… shoes.” He trailed off. His eyes, originally aimed at Luke’s shoeless foot, had landed on the grey smudge on Luke’s ankle. Then they flickered up to Luke’s jaw, then back to his ankle. “You’ve got…”
“Seven minutes, Ash,” Luke said, uncomfortable under Ashton’s stare. “And seriously, we’ve seen each other naked and you didn’t realize I had multiple marks?” He flopped over and peeked under the sofa. “Ah, here it is.”
“Excuse me for never choosing to fixate on your ankles,” Ashton replied as Luke triumphantly extracted his shoe. “Just… doesn’t it worry you? That somewhere out there, you’ve got multiple soulmates waiting for you?”
“Not really,” Luke replied, shrugging. “I just figured it was you lot.”
“Oh,” Ashton said. Luke ignored his stricken expression and, fully shod, pushed past him out the door. “Five minutes, Ash!”
“I just figured it was you lot,” Ashton said. Next to him, head leaned back against the seat, Calum raised an eyebrow. Ashton added, “Does that mean he’s got more than just the two?”
Calum opened his eyes just long enough to fix him with a Look. “You seriously never realized.”
Everyone knew about the mark on Luke’s jaw. It was the one obvious mark anyone in the band had, that you could look at pictures and say, Oh, that’s where their soulmate will touch them in a special moment. A lot of people said it looked like a bruise. Ashton had his, of course, but none of them were obvious, and Calum and Michael had enough tattoos between the two of them that everyone had long given up trying to figure out if any of them were natural.
Ashton said, “I guess after knowing about the one, I assumed that was it.”
“No, he’s got three,” Calum said. “Jaw, ankle, and the back of his neck. Easy to miss.” He closed his eyes again, and clearly expected that to be the end of the conversation.
Ashton said, “You’re surprisingly calm about this.”
Calum gave a sigh and said, “Even the greatest of abnormalities can become mundane by constant exposure.”
“What?”
“Weird things are normal once you’re used to them.”
“Oh,” Ashton said. “Who said that?” It hadn’t been Calum.
“My mum,” Calum said. “And Mali. When I was twelve. I got my marks when I was two. It stopped being weird when I couldn’t remember getting them.”
“No shit,” Ashton said. “You’ve got more than one?”
Calum, by way of an answer, pulled up the hem of his sweat-soaked shirt. There was a smudge just visible above the waistline of his jeans, dark grey against his brown skin. It flickered in and out of sight under the light of passing streetlamps. “Easier when you know what you’re looking for,” he said. “I’ve got another on my leg, but that’d be a nightmare to get to in these jeans. And--” He pointed to his wrist, where one of his tattoos wound up his forearm. Ashton gaped. “When did it clear?”
“We were seventeen,” Calum said. “Michael slipped into a ditch, and I caught him before he fell. When I pulled him out, there it was.”
“Michael’s your soulmate,” Ashton said. “Or one of them.”
“Start paying attention, Irwin,” Calum said. “You’ve lived with us for like, five years. You’d think you would have noticed by now.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Ashton grumbled. “Ashton Irwin can’t see a soulmate mark if you waved it under his nose.”
As it turned out, Michael wound up being his roommate that night. Back at the hotel, after they’d settled down, Ashton brought it to him.
“Calum said he got one of his marks from you.”
Michael went the slightest bit rigid. “Yeah,” he said, and pointed to the tattoo on his shoulder. “It was weird, like. He saved me from falling into this ditch-- it was a monster of a ditch, too-- and when he pulled me out he hit me in the shoulder and said, ‘watch your step’ and when I let go of him I saw the mark where I grabbed him. And then my shoulder started feeling weird, and it was there.”
“And you two aren’t…?” Ashton said. Michael shook his head. “He’s my best friend. I mean, like, you’re all my best friends, but he’s been my best friend for longest. And… we’re happy like that. I think, if we tried to be like, together together we’d just mess it up.” He shrugged, and Ashton said, “I guess that makes sense.”
“Are you ever jealous?” He added. “That he’s got two other soulmates out there somewhere?”
Michael went even more visibly rigid. “Nah. Course not. Why should I? We’re soulmates.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t be jealous,” Ashton said. “Although, it could be he’s like Luke.”
“Like Luke how?” Michael’s eyebrows puckered. Ashton said, “You know, how Luke’s decided we’re his soulmates.” He gestured from himself to Michael, to clarify he meant the band. Michael’s eyes went wide. “You mean he’s got more than one?”
“Oh, thank god, I wasn’t the only one,” Ashton said. “Yeah, he’s got three. Apparently he doesn’t really hide them, either, but I didn’t realize he or Calum had more than one until tonight.”
“Here I thought we couldn’t get any weirder,” Michael muttered. His face had gone pale(r than usual), and he looked a bit dizzy. Not the best way to be handling a surprise. “Mike, you okay?” He said.
“Yeah, fine,” Michael mumbled. “I’m going to bed.” And he lay down and pulled the covers up so that only the top of his bright hair was visible.
Well, shit, Ashton thought. Then he thought, Michael’s got more than one. Because Ashton, with three of his own, felt like Michael had looked. Like his mind was spinning in twelve different directions and his stomach had turned inside out and his head was too heavy for the rest of him. He touched the skin behind his ear, where he knew a faint grey smudge ran up into his hairline. Another, hidden under a mess of bracelets, tracing around his wrist under a set of pale scars. A third on his collarbone, a smudge of charcoal.
Maybe Luke was right.
He hoped Luke was right.
...Luke was probably right.
“Do you think there’s any hot water left in the building?” Calum said, when Luke emerged from the bathroom in a towel and meandered over to pull a pair of sweats from his suitcase. Luke paused long enough to flip the bird at him before dismissing the towel and pulling on the sweats; Calum smiled and returned his attention to his phone as the younger boy joined him on the bed. “How’s the side?”
“Fine,” Luke said. “Bruised.” Calum looked: sure enough, there was a bruise running down his side and down past the waistband of his sweats. “Doesn’t look fine, that.”
“Sore a bit, but I’m not dying or anything,” Luke said. “Though the internet seems to think so.” Calum chuckled. “I’m pretty sure the whole world’s seen you falling off that box by now.”
Luke ducked his head. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know that,” Calum said, nudging him. “I checked with the techs, they said that box wasn’t bolted down properly. Won’t happen again.”
Luke smiled. “Thanks, Cal.”
“Don’t thank me, I just don’t want my neck broken,” Calum said. Luke laughed out loud, shoved him, and got up. “Smartass. I’m going to bed.”
“Go to bed, Lukey,” Calum said. Then, not looking up from his phone, “Ash knows. Says you told him.”
Luke, draped over his bed with one long leg dangling over the edge, smirked. “I can’t believe he didn’t find out sooner. S’not like either of us hid them.”
“It’s not like either of us walk around naked, you mean?” Calum said, and Luke grinned. “Yeah. That.”
“open up your eyes/it’s not like we’ve been hiding/dude when our skin’s bare...shit. Oh! how can you not see it there?” Calum sang, and Luke laughed. He laughed again when Calum hummed a riff, air-guitaring his way through. “your friends have more than one/more than one/more than oooooooneeeee/we’ve got more than one soulmate, son!”
“Stooooop,” Luke wheezed. Calum did stop, and there was a companionable pause. Then Calum said, “What if it’s not us?”
“What do you mean?” Luke frowned. “Like, what if my marks aren’t for you and Mike and Ashton?”
“Yeah,” Calum said. “What if they’re other people?”
“They’re not,” Luke said, and Calum could hear the certainty. “Right,” he said. “Okay.” And he looked back at his phone, and he didn’t look at Luke.
“You know I’d never leave you guys, right?” Luke said suddenly. “If it were someone else. You’re my family. Hell, we’re bandmates-- I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”
When Calum looked up, Luke’s expression was earnest. His eyes were wide like he’d start crying if Calum pushed him.
“I’d never leave you, either,” Calum said. Luke smiled.
“Good that,” he said. Then, “Do you mind if I turn the light off?”
“Go ahead,” Calum said. “We should probably both sleep.”
Luke got up and turned off the light, and Calum switched off his phone and lay down as Luke padded back to bed.
“I still know it’s you lot,” Luke mumbled in the brief silence before both of them, completely and cheerfully exhausted, fell asleep.
Michael was awake. The room was dark; no light peeped around the edges of the drapes. Michael’s mind was a blur of sounds and emotions and the memory of places where his nerve endings had once shouted. Footsteps slapping on linoleum. Jostles, blows, mockery. Michael’s shoulder burning where Calum had touched him. Ashton’s voice: soulmates soulmates soulmates
Michael lay paralyzed, sleep still clinging to his skin, and then it was gone. He sat up, drawing in ragged breaths, his heart thumping a tattoo into his throat.
soulmates soulmates soulmates
congratulations michael you’ve got three people to spend the rest of your life with but now it feels like a prison sentence congratulations michael you’re a freak you’re a freak
“Michael?”
He jumped near out of his skin and turned to see Ashton (or the idea of ashton, nothing more than a dark shape in a dark room) stirring, propping itself up. “Mike, you okay?”
“Fine,” Michael managed. just a dream, just a dream
“Right,” Ashton murmured. “G’night, Michael,” he said, and lay down.
Michael lay back down, wishing he could stop hearing the freakshow going on between his ears.
soulmates soulmates soulmates
freak