Chapter Text
Andrew never liked the idea of soulmates. Why have some mysterious power control your life and who you ended up caring most deeply for when you could control it yourself? Not only did it not make sense to him, it unsettled him. Why couldn’t he be in control of himself? He saw the way his cousin fell for the German exchange student he’d hosted and didn’t understand how Nicky could be so sure Eric was the right one, even if the tattoos they bore said they were.
When Andrew punched Neil at Eden’s for sneaking up and accidentally bumping into him on the dingy club dance floor, Andrew almost felt like he’d been punched himself. The two men met eyes, and before either of them could apologize (Andrew thought he at least owed the other a “my bad”), the redhead turned and ran. By the time Andrew’s brain was done deciding whether or not he should go after this man, he’d marched forward and grabbed the other by the wrist, holding firm.
Neil turned, a trickle of blood rolling down his nose across his lip.
“What do you want?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the blond stranger.
Andrew paused. What was his plan again?
“I punched you,” he said, stupidly. “My bad.”
“Yeah,” agreed Neil. "Let go of me.”
“Don’t run,” Andrew commanded, straitening up to his full five feet, shoulders down and back, pulling his hand back to cross his arms.
“I’m leaving,” Neil said, but didn’t move.
“Odd that you would run when you just got punched,” Andrew stated, eyes narrowing. “What are you running from?”
“What do you want?” Neil asked. “Sex?” The redhead rolled his eyes. “I don’t swing.”
“Maybe not,” Andrew acquiesced.
“I’m leaving,” Neil reiterated. He still didn’t move.
“I know you felt that emotional gut punch,” Andrew bluffed. He’d seen the momentary panic in the other man’s eyes after Andrew hit him. He’d seen the all to familiar way the redhead flinched away before running. He didn’t know for sure, but if he said it like a fact, he was the one in control of the situation.
“So what if I did?” Neil asked as his thoughts raced. This blond was already able to read him better than most other people were, and they’d only known each other about three minutes, maybe less. His mom would be disappointed.
“Surely you know what a soulmate is,” Andrew tried not to spit out the word. “You’ve heard what they’re supposed to feel like. Unless you live under a rock.”
Not far off. Neil’s mother had always cautioned him against finding his soulmate, looking for someone who could tie down a free spirit. Maybe that was just because of her own experience with Neil’s father, a butcher by day, using that strength to beat his wife and child at night. Their tattoos had never been a perfect match in Neil’s opinion, but Nathaniel had always grabbed his wife’s wrist to fit their tattoos together. Maybe once upon a time they had been a perfect match, but now Neil was running from his father after his mother had “kidnapped” him on his 16th birthday. Occasionally Neil saw his young face in miscellaneous grocery pamphlets, but no one ever paid attention to those.
“Soulmates are stupid,” Neil said. If he showed some of his cards, he could end this conversation and escape.
“Bingo.”
Neil was taken aback, but he tried not to let it show. This man already read him well, he couldn’t afford to show any more of his cards. He said nothing.
“Let’s make a deal,” the blond said to Neil’s silence. “You give me your phone number, and I’ll show you my tattoo.” A large bargain for him to make, but Andrew was feeling confident. Or maybe he was just cross-faded.
Neil glanced at Andrew’s forearms. Whereas Neil was wearing long sleeves, the blond’s forearms were covered by black armbands; Neil could only guess that this man liked his privacy. It fit with what he knew of the man already, especially if he didn’t like the idea of soulmates. Although he was hesitant to ever give anyone his phone number (another thing his mother drilled into him), the man’s offer was enticing. It gave Neil a one-up on him. Neil could simply block the next number he was texted from, and he would know more about this strange man than the man would know about Neil.
“Alright,” Neil agreed. He rattled off a fake phone number as fast as he could, hoping the other man would fumble typing it in, even though it was a fake, but the blond man just stared at him.
“Your real number.” He said, deadpan.
Neil frowned. “Show me your tattoo first.”
Andrew shrugged and began pulling up the right armband, just enough so Neil could see the puzzle piece tattoo on his right wrist. He can’t quite tell from the way it’s orientated without putting his own soul mark next to it, but it’s very likely it could be a match. There’s something in the pit of his stomach that’s telling him that it is. He shook that off by rattling off his real phone number to the other man.
“What do I save your contact as?” The blond asked. “Unless you want me to save you as “rabbit”, the way you ran scared.”
“Abram,” Neil said. He almost winced, knowing he hesitated a second too long from the way the other man raised an eyebrow at him.
“Alright, ‘Abram’,” the man said sarcastically, “I’m Joseph. I’ll call you, rabbit.” The man pulled his armband down again and began walking away. He paused and turned back to Neil. “Oh, and ‘my bad’.” He grinned and gave Neil a two finger salute before disappearing into the crowd again.
Neil closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Even though he planned on blocking every unknown number that called him in the next week, he knew that somehow he’d pick up when Joseph called.
As predicted, “Joseph” called him within the week. The blond asked Neil to meet him at a café not far away from Eden’s. It’s a short meeting but Neil was the one that walked away knowing more this time. Joseph likes sweets and is trying to quit smoking. His real name is Andrew.
Another time they met, Neil made sure to arrive early to buy Andrew a chocolate croissant. The blond gobbled it up while staring Neil down. Neil knew Andrew was waiting for Neil to offer more information about himself, but Neil wasn’t in the mood to play the truth game the two of them seemed to be playing every time they met. So they sat in silence until Andrew offered to pay the bill. Neil thanked him and left.
Yet another time, Andrew asked about his favorite color. Neil lied, saying it was grey.
“That’s not a color,” Andrew replied. “Try again,” is what he meant.
“Orange,” Neil said, and this time Andrew replies with, “Green.”
They performed this dance every time they meet until they’re almost friends. Neil isn’t sure why he still showed up. Andrew didn’t even know the name he went by now, let alone the one he was born with. Some secrets weren’t worth bringing up.
Neil no longer tried to run when the questions got too personal, and Andrew seemed more than satisfied with that. He called Neil out every time the redhead tried to leave before Andrew was ready for him to, calling him a rabbit. It almost makes Neil soft on Andrew. Each meeting crumbled Neil’s resolve to follow what his mother had taught him. Not that Andrew was his soulmate.
“You know,” Andrew said during one of their meetings. “No one reads those missing person ads in grocery story coupon leaflets.”
Neil tensed perceptively before willing his body to relax.
“Yeah?” He asked, almost breathing out the word.
“And no one believes it when a child cries abuse, huh?” Andrew’s shoulders slumped and he looked away from Neil.
“Huh,” Neil said. He doesn't push the question, and the two sat in silence for a while.
The two of them are facing off, trying to see who would break first, who would explain.
“I remember everything,” Andrew finally broke the silence. “Sometimes vividly, other times more hazy. I remember seeing one of those missing child ads. Teen with piercing blue eyes, bright red hair. I couldn't forget those eyes.” Andrew paused, looking up from his half eaten slice of strawberry cheesecake, directly into Neil's eyes. “Couldn't forget those eyes, Nathaniel.”
Neil tensed, not sure what to say to his old name being brought up. He floundered for a while, but Andrew has looked down again, picking at his cheesecake. Just as he was about to say something, maybe correct Andrew about his name now, maybe explain how his mother saved him, not kidnapped him, but Andrew started talking again.
“I was seven,” he said to his cheesecake. “Seven and in foster care when it happened first. Fourteen, still in foster care when it happened most often. Sometimes those who are supposed to love you… they rub you the wrong way, if you know what I mean.” He sounded bitter, a bit haunted if Neil was hearing correctly.
“It's Neil,” he said. “Neil Josten. Now, at least.” He knew the look in Andrew's eyes. He was going somewhere far away. “Neil Josten, and my mother didn't kidnap me.”
Andrew picked at his cheesecake some more, before getting up and saying, “I remember everything. It's a blessing and a curse.”
He walked away after that, and it wasn't until Neil was back at his apartment that he realized that was the first time Andrew had left first.
Andrew felt raw and open after he left that day. He took an hour long shower after getting home, trying in vain to wash the memories away. He regretted opening himself to Abram, to Nathaniel, to Neil. But there was some sort of peace inside him. A connection to someone he'd never felt before meeting… Neil.
It took the two a while to have another meeting, but by that time, Neil was ready to talk. He told Andrew about his parents and their mismatched tattoos, the years on the run from the police when his mother finally decided she'd had enough. In turn, Andrew showed him the scars on his forearms, covered by the armbands. Neil learned that the bands, like Andrew's cocky attitude, were to hide his vulnerabilities, anything that would make him look less in control. When he showed Neil his tattoo again, the redhead could see the thin scars around it.
“I tried to cut across it and cut it off,” Andrew explained. “Nothing worked. Just another thing that fate has control of.”
“You have control over whether you follow what fate dictates,” Neil pointed out.
Andrew was silent for a while after that. Neil took a sip of coffee, draining his cup.
“I get to decide if I'm going to ignore this or not.” Neil said finally, pushing up his left sleeve and fitting his wrist against Andrew's.
A perfect match.
“I'm not,” Neil said, looking Andrew in the eyes. “Are you?”
Things didn't go perfectly smoothly after that, but nothing does, even if it's your soulmate. Andrew was still full of sarcastic remarks and would see past all the lies Neil was still telling and call the redhead’s bluff. While the lying bothered Andrew to no end, the blond’s snide remarks kept the fire under Neil fueled too. They bantered back and forth like an old married couple, and it disgusted Andrew's twin brother, Aaron.
“Get a room,” he'd often say. “Your PDA is making me lose my appetite.”
And at some point, somewhere along the way, they did. Andrew still locked the door at night, but with a bathroom attached to the master bedroom, it wasn't an issue. Neil still disappeared on runs at odd hours, and while Andrew allowed him to without too much scolding when Neil got back, the redhead knew any anger or annoyance was out of genuine care.
The two filled their apartment with stuff that Neil never dreamed of owning during his time on the run, and that Andrew had always wanted for himself but never got during his time in foster care. However, at some point, they realized there was an odd void in their relationship, like something was missing, but they couldn't quite pinpoint it. They adopted two cats, King and Sir and while they made Andrew less moody and Neil less predisposed to run away, their California king still felt too empty.
And then they met Kevin.