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In a world like this one, to find a soulmate is rare. 8 billion people, and a number climbing every day. The chances of a soulmate being on the other side of the world are higher than ever finding them.
George grew up believing soulmates to be fictional. But he saw his mother clutching her chest in pain, taking pain medications that do nothing to sate what kept her up at night. He saw his father with hands unconsciously rubbing across his heart, feeling it beat to a rhythm that wasn't his own.
His parents aren't soulmates. Like billions of people across the world, they never found their soulmates. They never stood a chance.
George’s own heart, like everyone else, isn't his own. It pounds like he’s running a marathon while laying in bed trying to sleep. It flutters as he scrawls lines across his homework in frustration. It keeps a normal rhythm as he plays soccer in P.E.
He hates it. He wants his own heart back. One that doesn't cause him to wake up in the middle of the night as it suddenly starts racing and George can't breathe.
But the only way to get your heart is finding your soulmate. So, impossible.
When he’s 17, he presents as an omega. His parents are both betas. He feels out of place, despite his parents only noticing during his heats. Or maybe that’s part of it. Either way, he moves into residence his first year at university.
At 19, he meets Dream. He gets a fluttery feeling in his chest that finally feels right.
A year after, his heart is back to pounding hard and fast. He chooses to ignore it, trying not to imagine whatever it could be that his soulmate is doing.
He complains about it to Dream. “They might be on their cycle, or maybe they’re a health nut,” he grumbles.
Dream hums. “Heart disease?”
George grabs at his chest, suddenly terrified at the beating muscle within. Dream wheezes like he always does, and the heart under George’s hand flutters.
A month later, Dream off-handedly mentions he’s been working out. George applauds him. Dream makes a soft, annoyed noise. George doesn't ask.
As the years pass, the heart under George’s ribcage feels more and more like his own. It thumps loudly whenever he laughs with Sapnap and Dream, it develops a bitter feeling when he’s in a large VC with his friends, and it flutters even in casual conversation through the nights.
One night, while leaning against his desk in his new apartment, George has a thought. Sapnap is in VC, alternating between yapping about his new Pokémon cards, and complaining about Dream’s “icky omega smell.” George isn't really listening; his hand rubs across his chest, feeling the rhythmic beating.
He wondered if “meeting your soulmate” was specific to meeting in person, or if it counted over the internet. What were the qualifications? Seeing each other? Touching? Something… more?
He wondered, if he was Dream’s soulmate, what would happen when he saw his face through a screen?
The thought is dismissed. It can't be that easy to find a soulmate. Surely his is a random somewhere in South America or Australia. He’ll never find them.
But still, it’s nice to imagine.
Not long after, he gets the news: he’s moving to America. And soon.
His first instinct isn't to call his mother, his father, his sister, no. His fingers are dialing Dream’s number before he can catch up.
The moment Dream picks up, George’s heart is racing. And for a moment, he forgets soulmates exist. He unconsciously touches his chest, feeling the beat of it, the nervous and excited pounding, and doesn't, for a second, assume it’s anyone else’s but his.
He can't sleep on the plane to Florida. His heart, the entire time, is pounding. He manages to sneak in a few hours, or maybe a few minutes, or maybe no time at all. He thinks he sleeps. He can't tell.
As he carries himself, exhausted, off the plane, he begins to get excited. He’s here, really here, not just dreaming it to get himself to sleep. It’s no longer just a fantasy.
He’s guided towards the entrance by three security guards, and he feels like his heart is thrumming. The heart in his chest has never felt more like his.
Sapnap arrives not long after, and it feels like a step closer to completion. The drive to home— home, like it’s normal now—is the most stressful of George’s life. He can hardly breathe with anxiety, and Sapnap does his best to talk him down, but there’s no easing him.
Then there’s the street George has visited on Google Earth a hundred times. And then there’s the house that George has seen even more times through videos and Snapchats and FaceTime calls with Dream. And then there’s Dream.
He’s tall, naturally, and beautiful, a given. He’s there, here, walking towards George with outstretched arms and a smile that George can't help but copy. They’re both here, finally, after… too long. Too, too long.
George smells him before he touches him. Oranges and mint wrap around him as Dream’s arms do, warm and comforting and it feels right. They push together, like they can't get close enough to each other.
And then, something happens. George’s chest feels light, and he can't breathe, and he pulls away from Dream and they both take a breath at the same time. They stare at each other, and Dream smiles widely.
“I fucking knew it,” he whispers, hugging George again, tucking his head against George’s neck.
George’s eyes well with tears. His heart thumps differently. He brings a hand between them to touch Dream’s chest, feeling a familiar beat under his hand. One that used to live under his ribs, one that used to race whenever George joined a VC or laughed too loud. One that always belonged to Dream.
“You’re my—” He looks up at Dream, eyes wide and jaw slack.
Dream laughs, cupping George’s jaw. “Soulmate,” he breathes. He says it like a prayer. He says it like it’s everything he’s ever wanted.
George hugs him again, a tear running down his cheek as his eyes squeeze shut. More arms and another body joins the hug, and George laughs. Sapnap cheers loud enough for the three of them as Dream and George stare at each other, heartbeats in sync.
—
At first, George questions two omegas being together. He’d only ever been with alphas in the past, and the thought of being public with it made him nervous.
But Dream eased all his worries. Dream carries himself so easily, and he makes loving George seem easier.
They share their first kiss a few days after George lands. George keeps his hand on his own heart to feel how it beats. Their second kiss, he feels Dream’s heart, and he smiles. They beat the same way. Maybe they always did.