Work Text:
Peemwasu never thought it was possible to both dread and anticipate something this much—but here he is, looking at the date on his phone for the nth time since morning— July 7th.
Tomorrow is his 18th birthday.
Tomorrow he'd finally meet his soulmate
Or not.
Peem swallows the unease curling in his stomach as he steps through the familiar double doors of the company building. Technically, he’s not even supposed to be here—company policy gives every artist a mandatory three-day break around their 18th birthday. Something about privacy, safety, and giving space to process the whole soulmate thing.
But he didn’t have anything else to do today, so he showed up to work. It was better than staying cooped up in his condo, alone with his thoughts. Luckily, the group didn’t have any schedule lined up—only a blocked-off morning for dance practice in preparation for an event next week. Just enough to keep himself preoccupied.
When Peem steps into the practice hall, most of the members are already there—stretching, chatting in loose clusters. He scans the room. No sign of Phu.
Peem exhales and makes his way to the nearest bench, sinking onto it with a quiet thud. His bag slips off his shoulder and lands at his feet.
He must look as unsettled as he feels, because the others only offer him brief nods before turning back to their conversations, leaving him quietly alone on the sidelines.
“Hey Peem” Khunpol grins the moment he spots Peem and jogs over to him.
Except Khunpol, apparently.
“Big day tomorrow,” he says, grinning as he throws an arm around Peem’s shoulders. But when he catches the tension in Peem’s face, his smile fades. “You okay?”
Peem shrugs. “Honestly? I don’t even know what I’m feeling.”
Khunpol hums, “It’s normal to be a little nervous. I was the same way.”
Peem huffs a quiet laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. A little nervous doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Most of the members had already swapped—Alan met his when he was twenty, a foreign exchange student. He got a surprise day-trip to Singapore, because body swaps only reversed early if the soulmates met and slept together. (Literally—just a nap would do the trick.) Marc, Jinwook, Thai, and AA all found theirs at their 18th birthday, their soulmates were closer to their age.
Phu hadn’t swapped. Nex, Copper, JungT either. It meant their soulmates hadn’t turned eighteen yet.
Then there's Khunpol and Heart, the soulmate pair of the group.
“Must be nice,” Peem mutters. “Dating while working.”
Khunpol snickers. “It is. I get to keep Heart close and see him everyday. I don’t think I’d survive long-distance like Alan—I honestly couldn't go on without seeing Heart for an entire week.”
"How was it though, when you found out? You and P' Heart were strangers when it happened right?"
Khunpol muses for a second, then breaks into a sheepish smile. “Actually, it was the most terrifying and exhilarating thing at the same time.I woke up screaming—his sister was right there. Talk about an embarrassing first impression."
He shakes his head before continuing, “But once the panic settled, I looked in the mirror and realized… it wasn’t me. It was the person I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. And weirdly, I felt relieved. Happy, even. I’d always been the type to do things alone. Never really had deep connections outside of family until you guys. But in that moment, I felt... secure. Like no matter what, I’d have someone in my corner forever.”
Peem understands what he means. He totally gets it . . . because there’s only one person outside his family who’s ever made him feel like that.
“What’s all this soulmate talk?” Heart says as he appears beside Khunpol. For a moment, Peem wonders maybe the soulmate telepathy thing isn't a complete nonsense.
“Peem’s getting the jitters,” Khunpol explains, nudging him. “I was telling him how it turned out perfect for us—so he doesn’t need to stress too much.”
Heart gives Peem a look. Not teasing, not pitying. Just knowing. Then he turns back to Khunpol. “Babe, it worked for us because we weren’t expecting anything. Peem… he might already have someone in mind.”
Khunpol blinks. “Oh. That explains it.” He turns back to Peem with a curious tilt of his head. “Who is it?”
Peem thinks of warm brown eyes that looks hazel in the light. Freckles dusted across soft cheeks. That gummy smile that never fails to make his chest ache.
Heart raises a brow, catching the distant look in his eyes. “Ah. I know that face. It can't be anyone else, huh?”
Peem groans and buries his face in his hands. “Shh. Don't say anything.”
He didn’t need to say it aloud. He wished—desperately, hopelessly—that it would be Phu. That when he opened his eyes tomorrow, he’d be in Phu’s body. That it would be him.
“Hey,” Khunpol says, offering a small, rueful smile. “Like I said—it’ll turn out okay in the end.”
Peem wishes he could believe that without question.
“Peem?”
He looks up—and there he is.
Phutatchai, in an oversized hoodie with the sleeves bunched at his wrists, his hair still damp like he was fresh out of the gym showers.
He looks… exactly like himself. Like home.
Peem doesn’t respond right away. He just stares, heart doing something unsteady in his chest. It’s ridiculous, Peem thinks—how much he misses Phu even when he’s right there.
Heart glances over his shoulder, catching sight of Phu before nudging Khunpol lightly. “Come on, babe.”
Khunpol claps a hand on Peem’s shoulder on the way out, flashing him a smile that’s more understanding than teasing then he lets Heart drag him off, leaving Peem with the person he hasn’t stopped thinking about since this morning. Or yesterday. Or a month ago, if he’s being honest.
Phu approaches, a slight frown pulling between his brows as he looks down at Peem “Weren’t you supposed to take today off?” Phu gives him a quick once over, like he's checking for injuries. "Everything, alright?"
Peem shakes his head before wrapping his arms around Phu’s waist, pressing his face into the soft cotton of his hoodie.
Phu doesn’t comment. Doesn’t squirm or laugh it off. He just hugs back, arms folding around Peem and squeezes. “Weren’t you flying back home?”
“I canceled.” Peem pulls back, just enough to look at him. “My brother’s flying in tonight instead. Figured it made more sense to stay in Bangkok. You know… just in case.”
If Phu caught on, he doesn’t show it. He just nods, like that logic checks out.
“Come back with me after practice?” Peem asks, then quickly adds before he can second-guess himself, “We could watch a movie… or just hang out.”
The desperation must show in his face because Phu's eyes soften instantly. “Of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. Like it was never even a question. He drops his bag next to the wall and sits beside Peem, close enough that their arms brush.
Peem bumps their knees together, the gesture earning a smile from Phu.
Heart's right. It can't be anyone else.
---
Later, they’re curled up on Peem’s bed, a movie playing on his iPad but neither of them is really watching. Peem's pillowed his head on the older's chest, arm wrapped around Phu's waist, hands clutching at his side like a lifeline. He tries to focus on the rise and fall of Phu's breathing pattern.
The last time he felt this kind of nervous energy was on Phu’s birthday. He’d barely slept that night, sick with the thought that Phu could wake up in someone else’s body. That he might meet his soulmate. His soulmate who wasn’t Peem.
He called Phu and kept him on FaceTime until 2 am, refusing to let the older boy fall asleep. And when he woke up to no messages the next morning, he panicked.
He showed up at Phu’s house at seven in the morning. Not without a cake, of course and sat outside Phu’s room, waiting.
When Phu finally stepped out—groggy, blinking, hair sticking up— eyes landing on Peem, the words "What are you doing here so early? coming out of his mouth— Peem lunged at him, wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering, “Happy birthday,” against his shoulder. Thanking all the gods in his head—that Phu was still Phu, that he hadn’t changed, that he was still his.
And while the relief didn’t make the fear disappear completely, it helped. If Phu didn’t swap, that meant his soulmate was younger. That there was still a chance.
He feels Phu's eyes on him. “You're really that worried about your soulmate?”
"Yeah" Peem shifts, trying to hide the twist in his expression. “What if- what if they don't like Justin Bieber?”
Phu snorts, “Oh, that would be so bad.”
"Right? Like what if they prefer their sunny side up well done?"
That makes Phu laugh, shaking. "That's the nightmare, huh?"
"My fears are valid."
“Whoever it is... they’re so damn lucky to have you.” Phu snuggles closer, wrapping the blanket tighter around them and resting his chin lightly atop Peem’s head. "You'll be fine."
The next words tumble out of him before Peem can catch himself.
“I won’t be, if it’s not you.”
They both go still, forgetting to breathe for a second.
They've never said it out loud before—no confessions, no I like yous, no verbal confirmation of what they both know exists between them. They've survived on stolen glances and careful touches, on the unspoken understanding that this thing they have is much more.
Oh, Peem knows. You don't think about wanting to kiss your best friend stupid whenever they laugh at your terrible jokes, or feel your stomach flip when they fall asleep on your shoulder, or lie awake replaying conversations that meant nothing and everything all at once.
Peem waits for Phu to brush it off. To change the subject. Pretend he didn’t hear it.
But Phu sighs, slow and heavy.
“We don’t know that for sure,” he says. “But if it means anything, I wish it was me too, Peem.”
The confession lands quietly, like a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding finally let go—all at once, too much and exactly enough.
Peem whines into his chest, voice muffled. “That doesn’t help at all.”
He shifts, sliding on top of Phu and blanketing him with his whole body, burying his face in the crook of the older's neck. Clinging like he’ll fall apart otherwise.
“You’re killing me here,” he says, almost a whisper.
Phu lets out a quiet laugh, arms winding around Peem’s waist, keeping him there.
Peem thinks about that first day at the old Nadao building, watching Phu hunched over his phone, deliberately ignoring Peem's presence because he didn't know how to navigate new friendships. How could Peem have known then that this same guy would end up having such a devastating grip on his heart? That he'd be lying here now, tangled together on his bed, unable to imagine loving anyone else with this kind of intensity—this completeness that makes the thought of anyone else seem impossible.
Peem pushes himself up, bracing his arms on either side of Phu’s waist. From this angle, Phu looks unfairly beautiful—eyes wide, lips parted, watching him with a quiet intensity that makes Peem’s heart skip.And maybe he's imagining it, but Peem swears there’s something soft in the way Phu’s looking at him. Like he actually wants this too.
“I know this sounds crazy and you can totally pretend I didn’t say anything after, but—can I…” Peem's voice catches. “I want to kiss you.”
Phu searches his face for a beat, then he's moving—leaning up, closing the space between them like it was never really there. One steady hand cradles Peem’s jaw, and then he’s kissing him.
It’s soft at first. Careful. Like Phu’s afraid if he moves too fast, Peem might change his mind.
But Peem doesn’t.
He kisses back like he’s drowning, like something fragile and desperate inside him has been waiting for this—for him—for what feels like forever.
He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Because tomorrow might tear this all apart. He might wake up in a stranger’s body. He might lose Phu in the most ironic, cruel twist the universe can come up with.
But right now, Phu’s here. Kissing him like he means it.
And Peem lets himself have it.
---
The next morning, Peem wakes up with a start.
But something’s off.
The sheets aren’t his. The bed is a tad bit softer— doesn't smell like the fabric softener he uses. The room is colder, the air feels different—
This is not his room.
This is not his body.
He doesn’t open his eyes right away, just lies there, heart thudding wildly in his chest.
Okay. Okay. Don’t panic.
Slowly, cautiously, he raises a hand and presses it to his chest. Solid. Broad. Definitely not his. He touches his face. —
There's a knock on the door.
“Hia?" someone calls out from outside " You're driving me today, right?"
Peem freezes.
That voice. He recognizes it.
Which means—
“Oh my god,” Peem whispers, eyes flying open to take in the blackout curtains, the queen-sized bed, the layout of the room.
He knows this room.
He throws off the blanket, stumbles to the mirror on the far wall, and freezes.
The face staring back isn’t his own. It's his soulmate's.
Phutatchai's face is staring back at him.
He’s in Phu’s body. Peem lifts his hand and gives his- Phu's cheek- a good pinch.
He lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a shriek and manic laughter.
Another knock interrupts his spiraling thoughts.
Before Peem can respond, the door swings open a crack. Peemtanat pokes his head in. “Wait,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not—”
Peem whips around, heart pounding. “I—uh—”
Peemtanat blinks once. Then a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face.
“I knew it was gonna be you,” Peemtanat just smirks, stepping fully into the room.
"What do you mean?"
"Please. You’d have to be blind not to see how into each other you two are. I swear, this soulmate thing was the universe’s way of making sure two stubborn idiots like you finally figure it out."
Without thinking, he steps forward and throws his arms around Peemtanat in a bear hug. The younger boy yelps in surprise but doesn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry,” Peem mumbles against the younger's shoulder. “I know this is weird, I just—I’m so relieved.”
“Okay. Uh. You’re kind of squishing me,” Peemtanat mutters, awkwardly patting Peem’s—Phu’s—back.
Peem pulls back with a watery laugh.
Peemtanat studies him for a moment. “Are you good?”
Peem nods quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, just... processing.”
Peemtanat eyes him. “Cool. Well, congrats, I guess. Anyway, can you drive?”
Peem hesitates. “...Well.”
He can but he doesn't have a license yet.
Peemtanat sighs like a weary adult and calls out, “Mom! No one's driving me to school!”
By the time Peem makes it downstairs, he’s still adjusting to the unfamiliar weight of Phu’s body—shorter than his own, with a different gait and a deeper center of gravity. Every step feels slightly off, like he’s wearing someone else’s shoes. Which, technically, he is.
He turns the corner into the kitchen and stops.
Phu's mom is standing at the island, carefully placing a candle on a small birthday cake. It’s designed with a golden retriever puppy wearing a sports jersey, with an “18” piped in frosting.
Phu's dad is also there.
When they look up and see him, Phu's mom beams.
“Happy birthday, Peem,” she says gently.
Peem swallows hard. His throat is tight. His whole chest is tight.
“The cake but how did you—?”
Phu's mom gives a small shrug, stepping toward him. “Phu picked out the cake. Said you’d like it.”
That undoes him a little.
“Of course he did.”
She goes around the counter to wrap him in a hug, “Welcome to the family. Officially”
Peem hugs her back, eyes stinging. “Thank you, Khun Mae.”
Phu's dad smiles from the counter. “There’s rice porridge if you’re hungry. Or you can have cake for breakfast. Soulmate days don’t follow normal rules.”
Just then Peemtanat come's running down the stairs, his backpack bouncing behind him, he's holding out a phone in his hands which he thrusts into Peem's hands, "Hia's calling."
His own name flashes on the screen—Peemwasu (🐶)—and his stomach flutters.
He answers with a shaky, “Phu?”
What comes through the speaker makes his knees weak.
“Happy birthday, soulmate.”
It’s his own voice, but the tone—gentle, full of warmth and something so _completely_ Phu—makes his breath hitch.
Peem laughs, “Oh my god. That’s _so_ weird. I'm not sure about hearing my own voice.”
“Did you like the birthday cake? Was it okay? Are you okay?”
"Yes. Thank you. Love the cake" Peem sinks into one of the stools by the kitchen island, smiling like a fool. “And I am very much okay, although I miss you so much."
There's a small pause. Then Phu says, softer, “I’m heading back to the house. Should be there in about twenty.”
“Already?”
“Well, yeah.” A beat. “I figured we could take a nap. Y’know. Do the switch.”
Peem blinks. “Now?”
“Might as well,” Phu says. “I mean… after last night’s kiss.”
He pauses, just long enough for the silence to mean something. “And as much as I love you, Peem, I’m not making out with my own face.”
Peem laughs, a short, surprised sound that gets stuck in his throat halfway through. His face burns. “You love me,” he says, like he’s trying to test how the words feel out in the open. “Wow, you actually said it first.”
In the background, Peemtanat lets out a loud high pitched, "Sheesh!"
Phu only chuckles, “Yeah. I did.”
Peem leans into the counter, cheek resting on his palm. He’s still smiling, wide and helpless. “Okay. Nap sounds good.”
“Alright. I’ll be there soon.” A short pause. Then, “I’m really glad it was you, Peem.”
Peem’s chest aches in the best way. “Me too.”
They hang up, and Peem sets his phone down with trembling hands before squealing into his palms— not caring that Phu’s parents are right there to witness just how down bad he is for their son.
When he looks up, Peemtanat is watching him with a mix of amusement and mild judgment. “You two are gonna be so insufferable, aren’t you?”
Peem just grins, swaying a little where he stands. “It’s okay. You’ll get it when it’s your turn.”
And even though Peemtanat pretends to gag, Peem catches the tiniest smile tugging at the younger's lips
He turns back to Phu's phone, already pulling up his own contact again—because he can’t wait for soon. Not when forever finally feels possible.