Work Text:
Maybe my soulmate died, I don't know
Maybe I don't have a soul
Alan
Wen wasn’t Alan’s soulmate.
They’d known from the start. None of Wen’s favorite songs ever got stuck in Alan’s head, and none of Alan’s hummed tunes lingered in Wen’s mind. The silence between them was comforting, though. It meant no unwelcome reminders, no phantom melodies. And Alan didn’t believe in soulmates, anyway.
After all, not everyone found theirs. Soulmates weren’t just handed to you on a silver platter; you had to meet them—or at least cross paths for the bond to awaken. Only then would it happen: anytime your soulmate sang a song, no matter where they were, the tune would get stuck in your head like an unshakable whisper.
It sounded romantic, but Alan thought it was a cruel design.
The world was vast. How was anyone supposed to track down a person based on a song? Say you passed a stranger on a crowded street, and suddenly, “Can’t Help Falling in Love” started looping in your head. What then? Millions of people sang that song every day. Who’s to say it wasn’t just a coincidence?
Alan preferred not to think about it. He didn’t need some mysterious force to dictate his happiness. Besides, what if the soulmate bond activated, and it didn’t work out? The idea of spending your life haunted by someone who wasn’t meant for you was unbearable. No, it was better not to know.
Alan had been happy with Wen.
They’d built a good life together, filled with shared dreams and quiet understanding. They weren’t perfect, but they didn’t need to be. Soulmates were a fantasy, and Alan had chosen something real.
Until it all ended.
Gaipa
Uncle Jim wasn’t Gaipa’s soulmate.
Jim didn’t sing much—his voice was a low, gruff thing he reserved for rare moments, like muttering old drinking songs after a few beers or humming tunelessly while chopping meat. Gaipa thought he could live with that, though. He was willing to risk everything for Jim, even if the bond never formed.
But the older man didn’t even try.
Gaipa grew up listening to his parents’ love story, a tale woven with music and fate. His mom often spoke about the day she moved to a new neighborhood, a college student starting over. One afternoon, while unpacking boxes, a song she didn’t recognize got stuck in her head. It wasn’t until later, at the corner café, that she heard his dad—her future soulmate—singing that same melody. From that moment, their lives had intertwined.
Gaipa had always wanted something like that. He had dreamed of finding the person who would make his life feel like one of those old songs—simple, timeless, unbreakable.
But Jim wasn’t that person.
Alan
The first time Alan heard that song was the day of Mrs. Hong’s funeral.
Alan had handled Mrs. Hong’s accounts for a couple of years now. The woman was bright, lively, full of charm—a presence that could light up any room she entered.
At her funeral, everything had been heavy: the overcast sky, the scent of flowers clinging to the air, the weight of grief pressing down on the mourners. But it was the song that truly stayed with Alan.
Her son had sung it as he stood by the casket, his voice cracking with raw emotion. The melody was haunting—half lullaby, half lament—and it lodged itself in Alan’s chest like a shard of glass. That night, when he lay in bed, the song wouldn’t leave him.
He told himself it was because of the funeral, the overwhelming sorrow of the day. It wasn’t unusual for songs to linger after an emotional experience.
Gaipa
Gaipa wasn’t sure when his feelings for Khun Alan had shifted but he thought his Ma’s insurance guy was… lovely.
They’d started as acquaintances, bonding over shared loss and mutual understanding. Gaipa’s Ma had just passed, and Alan had been the one handling the insurance paperwork. Professional and courteous, yes, but also kind. The kind of kind that lingered.
It had been a few days since their last meeting at Uncle Jim’s food stall.
“Khun Alan,” Gaipa had teased, “you don’t have to be so formal. Just call me Gaipa.”
Alan had smiled, a small, tentative thing. “Alright, Gaipa. But only if you stop calling me Khun Alan.”
“Deal,” Gaipa had said, grinning.
Gaipa smiled at the screen of his phone, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He debated sending a text.
He bit his lip, then tapped out a message.
Gaipa: Hey, you up? :)
The reply was almost immediate.
Alan: Yes.
It’s late though. Can’t sleep?
Without meaning to, Gaipa started humming his Ma’s song, the melody slipping out of him before he could stop it—something that has been happening a lot more often lately.
So soft was the kiss
That has moved my heart
Such a deep affection
Makes me long for you now…
It had been a month since the funeral. He missed his Ma more than anything, but her song felt closer now. Like a comforting presence, it wrapped around him, especially at night, lulling him to sleep like a tender lullaby. Gaipa chuckled to himself, the corners of his lips quirking up as he typed.
Gaipa: I was just wondering… we never scheduled another meeting.
If you need any further work done with the documents, I’m free whenever.
Alan: I think all the documents are sorted out.
Gaipa winced, already regretting his awkward attempt. He tapped another reply.
Gaipa: Oh. Only took us 4 meetings.
The screen stayed silent for a moment too long. Gaipa’s smile dimmed as he imagined Alan typing, then stopping, then typing again.
Finally, his phone buzzed.
Alan: I’m free whenever too.
Gaipa blinked at the screen.
Gaipa: But you said the document work is done.
Alan: Yeah, but it’d be a shame to waste all this free time we both have.
Since, you know… we’re both free. Whenever.
Gaipa stared at the message, heat rising to his cheeks. His lips twitched into a nervous smile as he muttered to himself, “Wait… is he… asking me out?” His fingers moved before he could overthink it.
Gaipa : Oh.
Alan: So?
Gaipa: Obviously.
Alan : Obviously?
Gaipa: I mean, I’d obviously love to go on a date with you.
Then panicking, he added:
Gaipa: That is, if you were asking me out.
Obviously.
Gaipa was losing it and he groaned, burying his face in his hands. How was it that he managed to word-salad his way through texting? His breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his heart as Alan replied:
Alan : I was. I am.
Because I’ve been obviously thinking about asking you out.
For a while now, actually.
Gaipa laughed, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before he added:
Gaipa : Obviously.
Alan : So… how about a bookstore?
Gaipa chuckled, his heart soaring.
Gaipa : I’d like that.
Alan : Perfect.
We can buy you a dictionary while we’re there.
Gaipa : A dictionary?
Alan : To help you expand your vocabulary.
Because you only seem to know one word.
Gaipa rolled his eyes, even as a giddy laugh escaped him.
Gaipa : Alan, you’re not funny.
Alan : You know what else I’m not?
Gaipa : Don’t. Don’t you dare say it.
Alan : Obvious.
Gaipa : You’re the worst.
Alan : Obviously.
Gaipa stared at the screen, shaking his head, but his heart felt like it might float right out of his chest.
Gaipa : You’ve made your point.
Alan : Obviously.
But I’ll stop... for now.
...Obviously.
Alan
Alan had never liked the idea of soulmates. He’d always found the concept romantic in theory but cruel in practice. What if your soulmate died before you met them? Or lived halfway across the world? Or, worse, what if they simply didn’t exist?
“Maybe my soulmate died,” he’d once joked to Wen, trying to mask the hollowness he felt when thinking about it. “Maybe I don’t have a soul.”
Wen had laughed, but there was no humor in Alan’s own smile. It was easier not to believe in it.
And then Gaipa sang.
The song wasn’t loud or showy; it wasn’t meant to be. Gaipa hummed it absentmindedly, his voice soft and unpolished as he lazily browsed through a bookshelf. But Alan froze, his heart lurching in his chest as the melody wrapped around him like a thread tugging at something buried deep inside. He could hear the melody outside, yet somehow the song had also awakened within him, playing in his mind like a record spinning to life.
He’d never felt a connection this strong, and in that moment, all the nights of the past month—when he’d peacefully clung to that song—came rushing back to him.
It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.
Gaipa
“Do you believe in soulmates?” Alan asked suddenly, his voice quiet.
Gaipa tilted his head, considering. “I want to,” he said honestly. “I grew up believing in love written in the stars, romance that was fantastical but you’d still put everything on the line for it. My parents were soulmates. They used to tell me about how they met, how their song brought them together.”
Alan frowned. “What if your soulmate’s song never comes? Or what if it does, but you don’t realize it’s theirs?”
“That’d be unfortunate.” Then he added, “I’ve just never had a song stuck in my head but I don’t think I’d miss it if it happens.”
“Hm.” Alan’s voice was quiet, as though he was mulling over something.
“What about you? Have you ever had a song stuck in your head?”
“Not until recently,” Alan replied softly.
Gaipa blinked. “What’s the song?”
Alan hummed a few bars, and Gaipa’s breath hitched. It was his Ma's song. The one he had grown up listening to and yet... never like this. In that moment, it felt alive, surging through him as if it were a part of his very being. His lashes fluttered a few times, struggling to hold back the moisture welling in his eyes. "Oh," he whispered.
Alan hesitated, then looked at Gaipa with something almost shy in his eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
“Obviously,” Gaipa said, his heart racing.
“What if… what if we are soulmates?” Alan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What then?”
Gaipa didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached for Alan’s hand, his fingers brushing against the other man’s. “Then we figure it out,” he said softly.
Alan looked at him, something vulnerable and hopeful flickering in his eyes. “Even if I’m not sure I believe in it?”
Gaipa smiled. “I think I believe enough for both of us.”
Alan’s expression softened, the doubt fading as a quiet joy seemed to settle between them. "Obviously."
Gaipa continued, soft yet firm, "But even if we're not soulmates, I'm happy doing more of what we're doing now."
"Because we obviously like each other?"
"Obviously." Gaipa mirrored Alan's happy grin.