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Kei brushed his fingers over the brilliant sun emblazoned on his wrist; once, in his human life, it had been a curiosity, for decades more it had been a fire to turn on himself, searingly painful, and for the last. . .
‟Kei?”
His little sun, Kei thought, with a wry smile that faded into fondness. He smoothed his palm over his soulmark, then let his sleeve fall back over it, rising. ‟Aa, little one?” he replied as he turned towards Sho, half to see the scrunch on his face as he decided whether or not to fuss at the pet name.
Of course, it had been a good few years since it had really been accurate, but Kei was fond of it, and he gathered Sho must be as well, or he’d have complained a lot more. Delicate adolescent ego and all, Kei thought wryly, he had never stopped answering to it, or even did much more than pout that he wasn’t little any more.
The scrunch cleared after only a moment and Sho smiled at him, tilting his head and leaning back against the wall nearby.
‟Kei . . . you would agree I’m all grown, yeah?” Sho asked, with a faint pout that Kei remembered as a child’s petulance or pleading, but had more than bled over the line into fully-grown prettiness several years ago.
Kei’s throat tightened. Probably it was just Sho taking another angle to protest the pet name, but Sho’s growing up was both pride and pain for Kei.
‟Yes, little one.” Kei said, then hesitated. If Sho was countering it, perhaps he shouldn’t have used-
Sho grinned, shoving off the wall with his elbows. ‟Then. . .”
Kei tipped his head up as Sho approached, quirking a brow when he pulled his hands out of his pockets and lifted them. His eyes widened, breath hitching, as Sho caught his face in both hands - the pale arcs of Sho’s soulmark caught the corner of Kei’s eye; not enough to make out the details, but he remembered it precisely - and then Sho kissed him, plush mouth warm and soft, pressing a little too hard.
Kei’s heart clenched painfully, but he couldn’t . . . quite resist, tilting his head to return the kiss, lifting a hand to stroke Sho’s face, trailing along his jaw and guiding him to gentle it, finding the angle to allow more comfortable contact.
Kei’s wrist burned and white wings spread in his mind. He yanked away with a rough, wordless sound, mouth twisting. He couldn’t-
‟Sho,” Kei said, wretched, ‟why-” He shook his head. He’d known for years that his sun was Sho, his little one - his soulmark had ceased to be something to tear at his heart, with his little sun here at his side - even as he had known that their bond wasn’t reciprocal, that somewhere there was someone better waiting for Sho.
‟Because I had to,” Sho said, summer sky eyes clouded, ‟because it’s you, Kei.”
Angel’s wings, and of course Sho would have someone like that waiting for him, Kei had thought, someone worthy of angel’s wings, and it had ached but only a little. Sho deserved that, and Kei had more than he deserved - and more than he’d ever thought he could have - only to have Sho at all, to have Sho love him.
Love him enough for this, to try to give him this, even though somewhere Sho’s own soulmate was waiting for him?
Kei couldn’t- He couldn’t stop himself from looking at his wrist, dragging his sleeve up to see his familiar sun, but it wasn’t . . . wasn’t familiar. He had known it wouldn’t be; the faint burn of his soulmark responding as his soulmate kissed him, as his soul reached out for the bond it wanted. He wanted, so, so much, though he’d known for as long as he had known Sho was his sun that it would never be fulfilled.
‟Because I have been waiting for years, Kei,” Sho said urgently, clasping Kei’s forearm just above his soulmark, ‟and you can’t say I’m too young, not any more, you just said I’m all grown, Kei! You agreed!”
Kei stared at the sun on his wrist, framed now in a cradle of ethereal white wings.
‟Kei!”
Kei jolted, the wavering distress in Sho’s voice breaking through the thorny tangle of confused disbelief in his mind. However sweet Sho was, and however he had guessed at Kei’s mark and his heart, he couldn’t- couldn’t do this, couldn’t hold himself to Kei.
He lifted his head and froze as he was faced with Sho’s wrist and Sho’s wide, wet eyes.
‟Don’t you want me?” Sho begged, voice thin. ‟You’re mine, Kei, you- you can’t-”
Sho’s wrist, where he had always carried a pair of wide, white wings - angel’s wings, a beautiful arc - and they were still there, of course they were, but now they were limned with the brilliance of a sun newly formed behind them.
‟I- I can’t be your-” Kei shook his head, looking back up at Sho’s face. Even his impossible little one couldn’t have made this happen; even he couldn’t have sparked a bond that wasn’t there. On both sides. A part of Kei couldn’t believe it, but he couldn’t doubt it, not with it blazoned on both of them. ‟Of course I want you.” Kei said, because that at least was an easy - unshakeable - truth, and Sho smiled, dropping his hand to Kei’s shoulder and kissing him again.
It was a little less clumsy this time, but only a little; Kei was distracted and slow, clinging to Sho thoughtlessly, desperate and spinning.
‟Kei, Kei, Kei. . .” Sho nuzzled him as the kiss broke, all eager affection and teary laughter. ‟You worried me! I’ve waited all this time, and I knew, I knew, but when you said. . .”
Kei felt slow, left a beat behind. ‟You knew?” he repeated, sinking dizzily down to sit on the daybed.
Sho followed him, nudging close against his side, and Kei smiled reflexively at the familiar demand for attention, lifting a hand to tug Sho’s braids. He grinned, and Kei’s eyes strayed to his own wrist; to the wings that had risen to frame his sun.
‟I’ve known forever! . . .you didn’t?” Sho asked, covering Kei’s soulmark with his hand, clasping his wrist gently. ‟You didn’t know it was me you were waiting for?”
‟I- Of course I did,” Kei shook his head, ‟you’ve been- My own little sun,” his lips quirked, ‟even in the night. It doesn’t even ache so much to have lost,” he gestured, ‟the day, now, with you. . . But that’s different, that’s- that’s me. I knew you had to have someone. . .” He faltered, because he had known, he had been so sure, but the newly changed mark on Sho’s wrist screamed that he had been wrong.
‟Kei.” Sho said, and Kei met his eyes again, brows rising. ‟How could you not know!”
‟How could it be me?” Kei countered immediately, shaking his head. ‟Angel’s wings, Sho, that could never be me, I’m-”
‟Well it is you,” Sho pointed out, tracing Kei’s soulmark with light fingertips and making his breath hitch, ‟so you can’t exactly say that. But Kei . . . you directly saved me, me and all of us, when we were kids and- and so many times since then. In so many ways.” he said more softly. ‟How can you say you couldn’t be worthy of being thought of so?”
Kei swallowed, looking away, and Sho touched his cheek, nudging him to look around again.
‟Also, Kei, you literally have angel wings inked into your back.” Sho said dryly, and Kei opened his mouth, then closed it and glared.
Sho was unmoved, just shy of smirking at him.
‟I think I have possibly the most obvious soulmark ever.” Sho said lightly, and Kei pinched him while he wasn’t looking, making him yip and squirm.
Sho pouted at him, then flicked his shoulder, right over his collarbone, stinging sharply. ‟Of course I knew it was you, Kei.” he said, nudging into Kei pointedly. Kei slid back as he pushed, and Sho only pressed closer until Kei realised what he wanted and let them both sink down onto together, Sho nestling into his side, curled across the daybed which was really no longer big enough for both of them this way.
Kei still felt like he was struggling to catch up, but Sho was familiar and steadying against him, and he pressed into the contact himself, trailing a hand up and down Sho’s spine, smiling as he voiced a little contented sound under the light petting.
Sho twisted a little after a short time in silence, staying close, and lifted his arm, holding it up over them. Kei’s throat tightened as he looked at the familiar wings, now even brighter with the sun shining off their gleaming feathers. ‟You did know it was me, Kei, right?” Sho asked, voice soft, asking for reassurance but not quite uncertain, and Kei huffed quietly.
‟Of course I did.” Kei lifted his own arm, feeling a little shaky. Their marks were so blatantly a pair, the bond Sho’s kiss had sparked twining between them in a way Kei had very rarely even dared to dream of.
Sho pushed himself up suddenly, leaning over Kei with a serious look in his eyes. Kei’s brows rose. ‟Are- You-” Sho paused, licking his lips, and Kei brushed a hand over his side comfortingly. ‟You’re happy, right, Kei? Or. . .”
Kei stilled, breath catching. Sho closed his mouth, swallowing.
‟Oh, Sho.” Kei reached up to Sho’s face, stroking his cheek, smiling. ‟Of course I am,” he said gently, drawing Sho back down to him, ‟I love you so much, I only. . .” He kissed Sho lightly, then nuzzled him as he settled close, eyes wide and bright. Kei brushed his thumb alongside one of them. ‟I never thought we could have this; that I could have you this way.”
He had always thought that one day Sho would find his own soulmate and Kei would have no choice but to let him go, could never have done anything else in the face of Sho’s heart, what he deserved.
‟Oh!” Sho’s lashes fluttered, and then he snorted, lips curling. ‟Kei. Ridiculous.” He shook his head, curling his fingers around Kei’s wrist, sliding easily over his soulmark. ‟I love you. It could never have been anyone else.” he said more quietly.
Kei’s throat was tight. ‟For me either.”