Chapter Text
Kim doesn’t believe in free will. He just believes in making the best of what fate handed him.
His parents were soulmates. Kim doesn’t really remember Mama, but everyone says that she brought out the best in Korn - he was cunning and she was courageous, and together they ruled the city. But now she’s dead and Papa isn’t his best self anymore. He’s just bitter.
And no one blames him either. Half of his soul is gone after all.
Kim hates that. He hates the idea that his father is allowed to be cruel because his mate is gone, because he’s less than he used to be. It removes responsibility from him, he just gets to live the rest of his life as a pitiful less-than who can get away with whatever he wants.
People say the one who utters the words etched on your skin is the other half of your soul. Kim wants to be a whole person just by himself.
But maybe that’s asking too much.
People have all sorts of things written on their arms. Korn has This is my favorite song, a perfect match to Mama’s May I have this dance?
Kinn has Fifty-thousand. When they were kids they would make bets about what that’s in response to. When he was young he would claim it was how many music awards he was going to have. Kim said it was how much of an idiot he is on a scale from one to ten. Now that they’re older, Kim just hopes the unit isn’t money or lives.
One of the maids has It’s August 10th, 2023 in Bangkok and my name is Bank, which feels like cheating. It’s increasingly common for soulsearchers to state their name and the date to anyone they meet for the first time so as to make the search as easy as possible for their future love. Those are good people. They’re already dedicated to their soulmate and they haven’t even met them yet.
Kim’s words aren’t quite that specific, but they are detailed.
There are three songs: “Lost star” there’s a tail of a cat after the hook; “Shape of You” a paw is seen around the intro; and in “I Secretly Like You” there’s a cat doll.
He doesn’t know what it means, but it takes up most of his forearm. There are a few songs with those names, but a paw is seen implies visuals, so he assumes it’s about music videos. He used to tear through music catalogs, then endless internet searches. The closest he gets to a hit is a Hungarian band with a song that could translate into Shape of You under some circumstances. The music video even has a paw in the intro, but even then it’s a dog’s paw and not a cat’s.
Maybe the fact that he’s looking for songs is what drives him to music. Or maybe he would have liked music anyway, and that’s why the words on his arms are about songs. He doesn’t know.
When he’s fourteen and fuckinging around with his guitar, he realizes that the lyrics he’s goofing around with are vaguely night themed. He could - it wouldn’t be hard… he could name his own song, “Lost Star”.
Maybe the songs on his arm are his songs. Maybe music is more than a hobby, is more than just a way to shut out the reality of his mafia family. Maybe someday it’ll be his music videos his soulmate watches. His music that brings them together.
The words on his arm are what gives him the confidence to tell his father he’s leaving. The same words convince his father to let him go.
“It’s fate, Papa,” he says. “It’s already bound to happen.”
He gets signed at a label. When they agree to let him debut with “Lost Star”, he makes sure that when they film the music video, there’s a cat tail after the hook.
The song does well, which, of course it does. Kim is pretty sure now that he’s got at least two more music videos coming, that it’s his future songs the words on his arm reference.
As Kim watches his name trend on Twitter and his single rise up in the music charts, he doesn’t feel… accomplished. Each interview feels inevitable instead of earned. He writes and releases “Shape of You” and regrets it.
Does it matter how hard he worked on the song, or was it always going to do well? Or was it always going to do well because Kim was destined to put the work into it?
Fate makes him question his own work. Kim resents it for that.
He knows he’s going to love his soulmate. It will be impossible not to. They’ll be exactly everything he never knew he wanted, and everything he’ll ever need.
But it was because Mama and Papa were each other’s whole lives that Papa became the way he is after her death.
Maybe it’s selfish, but he wants his life to be his. With his soulmate or without them.
He makes the decision then not to write “I Secretly Like You.” If he simply doesn’t write it, there won’t be videos with cats for his soulmate to comment upon. Life is just too complicated right now to meet them, between Tankhun’s health and Papa’s health and Kinn being groomed to take over… Even away from it all, Kim’s life is too dangerous to bring someone else into. He needs to get everything ready first. He can’t control who his soulmate is but he can avoid his fate until he’s ready for it.
It happens anyway.
He’s paired with another artist at the label for a collaboration, and the artist brings I Secretly Like You to the table. He wants to refuse, he’s not ready to meet his destiny. The non-existence of the song is like a wall standing between him and fate.
He tries to stop the project. He asks for a different song, a different collaborator, even just a new name for the song. He doesn’t tell them why, he’s always kept his words to himself.
They tell him he’s not popular enough to be making demands. He can do the song or he can get dropped by the label.
He won’t quit. He knows he won’t, the label knows he won’t, even fate knows he won’t.
He stops fighting. After all, what’s the point? The words on his arm are inevitable, the song will happen anyway.
He does the collaboration, and he knows before he even sees the final cut of the music video that a cat doll appears in it.
From there it’s a simple matter of waiting.
The inevitable happens at an open house. He’s wooing prospective students one moment and being wooed by his own soulmate the next.
It doesn’t feel like the right sort of day for fate. It was neither a good day nor a bad one, things were just fine. Normal. He’d gotten a call from his father earlier and nearly barreled through some campus tour group then they blocked the path between him and a music practice room where he could take the call without anyone overhearing, but that was the only thing abnormal about the day.
At least until the host announces trivia.
And then the host asks which of his songs features a cat in the music video.
Time slows in that moment, and Kim knows: this is it.
The host calls on a girl in the front row. She’s… she’s cute, he guesses. A nice smile. There’s worse people to be tied to.
But then halfway through her answer he realizes that she’s wrong.
Well not wrong, there’s a cat in “Beached Whale”. But it’s not his soulmate’s words.
False alarm, he thinks. Not today, soulmate.
Of course, that’s when fate laughs at it, and a split second later he hears. “No, that’s not it!”
He’s always wondered how exactly destiny chooses the words to tattoo on a newborn’s skin. Did it have to be spoken directly to the soulmate? There have probably been studies, Kim should look it up.
Apparently that objection was spoken to the crowd. The next words are just for Kim.
“There are three songs,” a boy answers, looking straight at him. Their eyes meet, and something inside him slides perfectly into place.
The boy is cute. He’s really cute. Which, of course he is, he’s made perfectly for Kim. Or maybe Kim just thinks he’s beautiful because Kim is his.
He rattles off the rest of the words on Kim’s arm quickly. It’s good Kim has the answer written down and memorized, otherwise the words would fly over his head completely. The boy has a lovely voice.
Kim likes that he interrupted. Likes that he spoke out of turn to give the correction. He likes that this boy knows him so well already.
Is he a fan of Kim’s because they are soulmates? Does he feel this tug in his chest when he watches Kim’s music videos?
Kim will have to ask him later because the host nudges Kim to respond. Which, shit.
In all the years he’s been thinking about this moment, he always considered that he might be the one who has to respond, but none of the lines he’d come up with come to his head right now. What words does he say that are written on this boy’s skin? Whatever he says next has already been written, but fate didn’t tell him his line.
He panics. Instead of responding with something kind like, You look like an angel, or something useful like, My name is Kim and we meet on July 5th, 2022, or even just, That’s correct… Instead of saying anything, he slowly claps.
The boy jumps and cheers, and Kim has to wonder - does he already know? Are the words on his skin something Kim spoke to the audience earlier, or will he have to find the right thing to say later?
He’s lost in thought as the host wraps up the performance, and his eyes drift over to his soulmate as he waits by the host’s side handing out T-shirts.
Will the boy approach him first? Does he need to approach? What does he say in this situation?
But the boy approaches Kim after they take pictures with the T-shirt winners. So he must already know?
“I’ve run out of T-shirts,” the host says apologetically.
The boy looks at Kim through the soft fringe of his bangs, and Kim’s heart tugs.
“That’s alright,” the boy says.
Then, outrageously, he starts to turn away.
“You got more than one answer,” Kim says, calling him back, making sure he doesn’t leave, and oof, he hopes that those aren’t the words on this boy’s skin. He should have had a plan for this. “Can I give you something else instead?”
The boy shines as he turns back to Kim. It’s like the gravity in the room starts to fail, and Kim feels light as a feather. That must have been it then - they both know they belong to each other now.
“Oh really?” the boy asks energetically. “Can I?”
They’re keeping it cool then, not announcing their new status to the bystanders. Kim appreciates that.
The boy asks for guitar lessons.
Kim agrees. It’s not really a choice after all.
He spends the few days between the open house and his first meetup with the boy devising a plan.
In theory he shouldn’t need a plan, but Kim’s not really a go-with-the-flow kind of person. Even if the hand of fate is driving this one, Kim’s going to wrestle back control of the wheel. It’s his life after all, he should get to dictate where it goes.
He’s seen people go crazy over their soulmates, like meeting their other half radically transforms them into a whole new person. They call it love, Kim calls it self-exterminating obsession. He’s decided to not be one of those people.
There are plenty of people who aren’t romantically entangled with their soulmates. Some people never desire sex or romance and their soulmates end up being people who are content with that. If Kim wants to keep his soulmate at arm’s length so that they can stay two whole halves instead of two halves of a whole, in theory his soulmate should feel the same way.
He’ll meet up with the boy, but there are no rules stating how long he needs to stay.
The boy’s name is Chay, and Kim can’t stop staring at him.
He actually wants guitar lessons - Kim assumed it was just a way to see him again, but he shows up with his guitar and an eager smile.
Kim half expected him to show up with a moving truck. Some soulmates do that when they find each other. Since they already know the relationship will work out, there’s no reason not to dive head first into having a life together.
Kim always shuddered at the thought of inviting a stranger into his private spaces. Apparently Chay thinks the same because he’s happy to take things slow.
Which, of course they’d be on the same page about that. They’re soulmates after all.
On their first meetup, Chay really does bring his guitar for a lesson. He spends the first fifteen minutes bashfully showing Kim what he already knows, and it’s a pretty decent start even if he’s clearly self taught and now has a few bad habits to break.
Kim plans to show him a few chord progressions and make an excuse to leave after half an hour, but then Chay starts to strum out a familiar melody.
All the songs he knows are Wik songs. It sends an unexpected little tingle of joy down Kim’s spine.
The next time he glances at the clock, he realizes he’s somehow spent two hours helping Chay through some tricky rhythms. It barely felt like any time at all.
His anxiety spikes for a moment. How could he lose himself already?
But then again. They’ve spent their time together playing music. Wik’s music even. What’s more Kim than Wik?
He’d probably spend the time working on Wik music anyway. With that in mind he relaxes a little and moves closer to adjust Chay’s hand on the fretboard.
Chay thanks him with a radiant smile and Kim relaxes a little bit more.
He thought that Chay would at least ask for a kiss sometime during the date. He’s very forward about the other things he wants. He initiates a few small touches, like grabbing Kim’s sleeve to get his attention, but otherwise he doesn’t do anything that wouldn’t be considered platonic.
He doesn’t ask to see Kim’s words. Kim doesn’t ask to see his.
Kim doesn’t tell anyone he’s met his soulmate.
It doesn’t seem real yet. Chay walked into his life one day, there’s nothing saying he couldn’t walk right out again.
There’s plenty of reasons why someone wouldn’t want to be forced into a life with Kim in his opinion. He’s pretty, and he can play guitar, but he’s also happiest when he’s alone. He’s never had much luck keeping friends.
To be honest, he can be a bit of a bastard sometimes.
And that doesn’t even touch the tip of the mafia iceberg.
He doesn’t think Chay has told anyone on his side either. Apparently his brother is away, only recently having started a new job, leaving him all alone at home.
That unsettles Kim more than he thinks it should. Chay is eighteen, he’s capable of taking care of himself but…. They’ve both met their mate now. In theory, they could die at any second.
Fate only brought them as far as their first words.
It’s why soul searchers tend to be reckless. People without first words usually die young, but people who haven’t met their mate yet feel practically immortal until that meeting. They’re not. It’s true they won’t die before they’ve met their match, but everyone’s heard stories about skydivers meeting their match in their instructor and going splat a few minutes later, or reckless idiots playing with guns or extreme sports only to meet their match in the hospital right before their deaths.
Sometimes Kim thinks Papa made Kinn the heir because Tankhun doesn’t have any words. Papa probably just thinks that Tankhun won’t survive long enough to be worth training. Kim likes to think it’s because Tankhun doesn’t need anyone to make him complete.
Plus, Kim thinks it’s shortsighted to assume Kinn is safer than Tankhun. Kinn hasn’t met his mate yet, but there’s nothing saying they won’t exchange words and then die immediately after.
He doesn’t want Chay to die. He’d take half of Kim’s soul with him after all. But even beyond that, Kim thinks he doesn’t want Chay to die. Just because he’s Chay.
It surprises Kim how much he likes spending time with Chay. It probably shouldn’t. He has always been destined to love him.
But Chay makes everything fun.
“P’Kim, it’s a beautiful day today and we’re wasting away here in the studio,” Chay says, sprawling out of his chair and halfway onto Kim’s piano bench. His cheek brushes up against Kim’s elbow, and even though Kim’s wearing long sleeves, heat spreads throughout his side.
“Are you giving up on the bridge?” Kim smiles, nudging Chay. “I think we’ve almost got it.”
“We’ve been at the point of almost getting it for an hour, P’Kim,” Chay rolls his head so he can look up at him. “I think we need a break.”
“Oh?” Kim asks, amused. “What kind of break were you thinking of then?”
Chay immediately sits up straight, and Kim is slightly disappointed to have the warmth go.
“There’s a new bakery not too far away,” Chay says, eyes bright. “And it’s important to support local businesses.”
“Ah, of course,” Kim plays along. “I bet it’s important for us to get cake then.”
Chay nods seriously. “For the local economy.”
“Right, the local economy, yes.” Kim nods.
Then Chay can’t keep a straight face anymore. He cracks, and the soft laughter that spills out of him fills the studio sounds more musical than any bits of melody they’d been stringing together earlier.
Chay’s hand knocks against Kim’s twice as they walk to the bakery, and he insists on paying for Kim.
Kim shrugs and lets him. It’s normal for soulmates to share resources. They’ll probably have a shared bank account at some point anyway. It’s inevitable.
Music lessons slowly morph into spending time together outside the studio, at cafes or record stores or the movies.
One day Chay mentions a club he heard about from his friends.
“It’s for soul searchers,” Chay tells him, “but ones who aren’t searching anymore. Because maybe they’re tired of waiting. Or maybe they like their life how it is. Or, they like the people in their life already.”
He looks at Kim intently when he says it.
“It’s an interesting business plan,” Kim says, mentally trying to piece together who owns the place based on the little information he has. “Do they get enough people to make a profit?” One of Vegas’ places maybe? He always likes to think he’s edgy.
Chay starts fidgeting with his own fingers. “I don’t know,” he says, oddly shy. “Do you want to go check it out with me?”
Kim gets distracted from thinking about Vegas watching Chay’s fingers as he fusses with them. They’re very long.
“Sure,” he says, losing track of what he’s agreed to. Something about a club? It’s probably fine. Chay’s his soulmate after all, it has to be fine.
It’s not fine. When he picks Chay up from his house that weekend, Chay is…
Breathtaking.
He’s prepared to party. He’s in slim black jeans that show off his long legs, and a button down shirt. It covers the words on his arm, but doesn’t cover much of his chest as he’s left the top four buttons undone. A gold chain glimmering from his neck, drawing Kim’s eyes to the dips of his collarbones.
“Is it too much?” Chay asks when Kim just stares at him, “Hia always wears his shirts like this. Maybe I should-” He reaches to do up one more button.
“No!” Kim says a little too forcefully, reaching out his hand to stop Chay.
Then he moves his hand to his hair, brushing his bangs aside, trying to look cool instead of desperate. It’s allowed though, he’s allowed to want to see his soulmate’s chest.
Kim is starting to feel odd that Chay hasn’t started anything physically with him yet. He’d worry that Chay didn’t want him at all, but they’re soulmates. They’re bound to be sexually compatible. So if Chay just wants to take it slow, Kim will let him lead.
That’s when Kim notices the hint of eyeliner.
He swallows. Maybe Chay isn’t going quite as slowly as Kim thought.
The club is loud and, as it turns out, busy. Not so overly crowded that Kim starts to feel unsafe in the crowd, but busy enough that when Chay drags him onto the dance floor, they have to press close to one another.
It’s intoxicating, being here with Chay. They didn’t even grab drinks before Chay insisted on dancing, so the only thing running through his system is being in proximity to his soulmate.
The dance floor gets more crowded and Chay presses in closer until they’re chest to chest.
Finally Kim just wraps an arm around Chay’s middle and pulls him in tight and Chay throws his arms around Kim’s neck.
Kim lets the music flow through him and feels like he’s not in control of his limbs anymore. He’s just responding to Chay, moving where he goes, pressing where Chay presses back. They dance as one, and for the first time Kim thinks maybe there really is something to be said for being two parts of a single soul.
The club is too loud, but the night air is cool and the alley is blissfully quiet as Kim and Chay pour out of the side door for a breather.
Chay leans against the brick wall and breathes deeply. They danced too long and too hard, and Kim is dizzy with it. He won’t be parted from Chay, so he presses up against his front.
Chay presses his forehead to Kim’s and their noses brush together. “P’Kim,” Chay says quietly, barely audible against the pulsing of the nightclub behind them, “P’Kim, I have something to tell you.”
“Anything,” Kim tells him. Anything he tells Kim will be okay. They’re soulmates, it has to be.
“P’Kim, I really want to kiss you,” Chay whispers. “Please let me.”
Kim surges forward, putting a hand behind Chay’s head so the wall won’t hurt him as Kim presses them together fiercely.
Of course he would give Chay this. It’s as natural as breathing. If Chay wanted Kim to kiss him, well, they’re soulmates. Kim has to want to kiss him back.
Kim takes Chay home. Not back to his apartment, but back to Chay’s home where he means to drop him off and head out himself, but Chay pulls him through the front door and won’t stop clinging to his arm.
They collapse on the couch together, still in their club clothes. Kim is really uncomfortable in his tight jeans and Chay can’t be faring any better, but then Chay’s head hits Kim’s chest and he’s asleep a minute later.
Kim stares at the dark ceiling and wonders how he got here. He’d spent so long resenting fate, scared of being tied to a perfect stranger for life and angry he wouldn’t get a say in it.
But the actuality of it… it’s not so bad. Not if it’s Chay.
Kim wakes when sunlight hits his face.
He cracks his eyes open to find Chay, head still tucked into his chest like he was last night. His eyes are closed but Kim can feel him starting to fidget.
“Why are you pretending to be asleep?” Kim asks quietly.
Chay’s cheeks flush as they opens his eyes to look back up at Kim, embarrassed to have been caught. “I was worried if I opened them, I’d start to cry.”
That makes Kim pause. “Why’s that?” he asks, bringing up his arm to pet gently over Chay’s shoulder.
“I’ve always felt that I’m an unlucky person,” Chay says, reaching his free arm over to wrap around Kim’s chest. “I realized I’ve just been saving all my luck for you.”
Chay lifts his head from Kim’s chest to look him in the eye. “P’Kim,” he says, a small smile gracing his face. “I don’t care that we’re not soulmates. I love you.”
Kim feels his heart stop.
“What do you mean?” he asks, sitting up even as it pushes Chay further away. “Of course we’re soulmates.”
The smile drops from Chay’s face to be replaced with confusion. “What?”
Kim rolls up his left sleeve and holds his arm out for Chay to examine.
Something changes on Chay’s face as he takes in the words on Kim’s skin, but where Kim expected to see a content confirmation, what he actually finds is confusion.
“These,” Chay says, reaching out, brushing his fingers against Kim’s arm, “I said this.”
Kim blinks at the tremor in Chay’s voice, but nods.
“We’re soulmates?” he asks. The words sound foreign on his tongue, like he’s never uttered them even in his head before now.
Kim feels off kilter. “Yes? Why else would I have agreed to tutor you?”
Of course they’re soulmates. What did Chay think they’ve been doing this whole time?
“I thought,” Chay starts and stops. The radiating joy from earlier is gone from his eyes now, replaced with a tempest. “I didn’t know.”
Kim’s brain empties out entirely, unable to comprehend what Chay means.
He grabs Chay’s left arm, and Chay lets him. Rolling up his sleeve, Kim doesn’t find anything he remembers saying at the open house. No Welcome to Anantrameka everyone, glad you could make it today, or Can I give you something else instead?
Chay’s words are Excuse me.
Excuse me. Of all things.
At first Kim panics. Has he been wrong this whole time? Is he waiting for someone else to come along and answer the exact question about cats in his music videos? The thought sends his stomach rolling.
That’s when a vague memory bubbles to the surface. The day Chay visited campus, Kim got a call from his father. He had to push through a tour group to get to a place where he could answer the call.
Could Chay have been in that tour group? Could he have said his first words to Chay without either of them realizing?
How many times has someone brushed by Chay and said those exact words?
Everything he knew about the last few months bursts into flames and tumbles to the ground. Out of the ashes he builds a new understanding.
Chay didn’t know Kim was his soulmate when he asked Kim for lessons. He didn’t know Kim was already his when he brushed their fingers together tentatively, didn’t know how Kim was bound to him when he asked him out, or kissed him or…
Chay hadn’t known Kim was his soulmate. He wanted Kim anyway. He loved Kim anyway.
His heart pounds in his chest so loud he’s sure Chay will be able to hear it.
“Chay,” he starts to say, but he’s interrupted.
“Is that the only reason why?” Chay asks, worrying at his fingers. “Why you tutored me and why we’ve been hanging out and why you let me kiss you?”
Kim feels like this is a trick question. “You’re my soulmate,” he says again, slowly. “It was never a choice.”
The words hang in the air between them.
Chay jumps up from the couch, moving too quickly and knocking his knees against the frame. “I have to go,” Chay says, turning away from Kim. “I’ll see you later.”
He’s visibly shaking.
He leaves his own house before Kim can get out another word.
That’s when the screaming starts.