Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The boys stayed up all night, sipping forgotten hot chocolates and discussing the nature of Soulmates. Despite the uneasy feeling that the topic planted in his stomach Newt listened to what his friend had to say, questioning everything and trying to squish the rising want in his heart.

Thomas's parents had grown up together. They'd grown up with three front door between their own, gone to the same childminder, the same school. In their teen years his mother had become popular, his father rebellious and trouble-making despite his good grades. His mother's parents had urged her away from him, for the protection of her school record and for the sake of trying to negate the way they spent all their time together.

They'd disowned his mother when she'd revealed that she was in love with his father despite their attempts. Thomas's parents had fallen in love when they were children, nurturing it without knowing. Despite how they had been raised and despite the way of the world they had discovered that they couldn't go looking for their designated Soulmates. The thought of being with anyone else had driven her to confess, only to find out theta he'd been aware of his love for her since he was ten years old.

Newt found his eyes prickling as Thomas told him the whole tale, feeling sorry for the troubles they had gone through, the way their parents had reacted. Despite the fact that they were not the only non-Bond couple in the world, such a thing wasn't always looked upon in a positive light. As with everything else in life, some people were more accepting than others.

Their story was incredible, enchanting and romantic, and as Thomas got to the wedding Newt found himself filling with relief, grinning embarrassingly widely as the story reached its happy end. Newt knew Thomas's family were prefect; his parents loved and encouraged him, accepting of his sexuality and adoring both he and his little brother. Newt had been welcomed into their home warmly.

It had opened Newt's eyes to the fact that he had been fed one side of what he had never realised was a very controversial and yet important part of life. Soulmates were made for you, perfect matches, literally born to make you happy. And yet Thomas's parents had found that happiness in each other, despite the black letters branded on their wrists. They were proud of their love, their marriage and their children, Newt knew that.

Really when it came down to it, whose business was it what was written on your wrist but your own?

"You know, i know we tease you about it..."

Teresa started absently, waking him from his thoughts as she cleaned the mouthpiece of her instrument, twisting the off-white cloth expertly. They were sitting side by side in the littlest band room before rehearsal, having gotten together to practice sections when they shared and passed the melody. Newt looked up from the new reed he was fiddling with before popping it in his mouth. The sweet and familiar woody taste coated his tongue as he sucked on it gently, dampening it to make it ready to play. At his raised brow Teresa smirked before wrinkling her nose.

"On a side note, you look ridiculous with that poking out of your mouth. You Reedies are disgusting."

Newt simply chuckled around the reed, flipping it over with his tongue just to spite her. She rolled her blue eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. She switched to the second part of her Flute and set to work carefully running the rod of her cleaning cloth into the silvery cylinder. When she looked back up Newt raised his eyebrow again, indicating he wanted her to continue. He stuck his tongue out, pressure keeping the reed flat against it. She gave him an amused, slightly disgusted smile.

"You were so quiet until he came along. He's the one making you all mischievous and weird."

Newt rolled his eyes and took the reed out of his mouth.

"Tommy doesn't make me weird. I'm not weird."

Teresa smirked at him, her twinkly sapphire eyes sly.

"Who mentioned Thomas?"

Newt opened his mouth to respond but the sly smirk curling his friend's mouth made his face heat up. When she noticed, Teresa's smirk widened into a broad and teasing grin.

"Ah haha, see? Just admit it, Newt. You'll feel better."

Newt scowled at her, but it only made her giggle. He huffed and turned back to his Clarinet, slotting the reed against the mouthpiece and tightening the little silver screws.

"All i'm saying is that he's had an effect on you."

"Who says it was him? Maybe i'm just settlin' in. I did just move to a new country ya know."

Teresa rolled her eyes, disregarding his argument with a wave of her hand. Newt ducked away from the damp cloth as it swung. Teresa flicked him another sly look.

"And then there's the nickname…"

Newt rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and groaned.

"Again with that. I'm not alone in nicknamin' him."

"Well, no. But you are the only one calling him Tommy…"

The suggestive tone in her voice made him squirm, an uncomfortable flush racing through his abdomen. Hearing his name in her voice was odd. He was reminded with a jolt that he was the only one calling Thomas by the nickname he'd graced him with. And was he only doing that because it was burned into his skin? Teresa seemed to sense the shift in his mood because her smile softened, her eyes quietened.

"What's up with you? You've been distracted all week. Even more than usual."

Her smile was gentle as she tried to make him laugh, and he flashed her a quick smile as a thank you. He went back to his Clarinet, wondering whether he should tell her what he and Thomas had talked about. He wondered whether she believed that Soulmates were the one and only in a person's life.

Most people did, it was the way of the world, the first lesson children remembered receiving. There were of course many people who dated outwith their wrist-name, much of those built on the understanding that when a Soulmate came along… Well, they were their Soulmate.

Newt had always believed he would spend a portion of his life trying to find the boy called Tommy who had his name inscribed on his own wrist, and that they'd fall in love and be happy. Or that he would bump into him one day in the library, the grocery store, at the park. There was always the risk that non-Bond relationships would end badly, one person feeling more than the other. It was human nature, and Newt had always believed he'd never want any part in it.

It wasn't that he'd never felt attraction for anyone, never thought how nice it would be to be with them. But he'd never deemed it a genuine possibility in his life. He would find his Soulmate, that's what you were supposed to do, what life was about.

He'd never dealt with attraction in anything close to the realm of what he felt for Thomas. And yet it hadn't faded. If anything the feeling had grown, fondness and affection blossoming in his heart every day, fuelled by every look, every smile or laugh, every time Thomas touched his arm or knocked their shoulder together when they walked.

"Thomas was talkin' the other day about non-Bond relationships, and it's sorta stuck with me. I guess it's because i've never really given it much thought before."

He half expected her to giggle, roll her eyes and tease him, but she just looked at him curiously with those quiet eyes. Her face was calm and thoughtful.

"Can i tell you a secret, Newt?"

When he looked at her again she was smiling, her head tipped to one side as she looked down at the pieces of her Flute.

"Of course." he replied.

She surprised Newt then by biting her lip and looking unsure.

Before he could question out loud the unusual disappearance of her boldness she set the silvery pieces on the empty seat beside her, and glanced up at him with big blue eyes.

Before he knew it she was unlacing the red ribbon on her baby blue wristband, loosening it enough to push it up her forearm enough to reveal the dark black letters scribbled there.

Newt snapped his eyes closed and turned his face but it was too late, and he'd seen.

"Teresa!" he hissed, reaching out blindly with his hand until he covered her wrist. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Showing you something." she murmured back, all traces of her usual fierce and fiery self gone.

Newt opened his eyes and met her gaze anxiously. She smiled gently at him, slipping her wrist from his grip to display the word between them. Newt couldn't help it, he didn't want to but without his permission his eyes followed hers to alight upon the five letters.

Minho

"I want you to know you can trust me, and i trust you. I may not know Thomas all that well as a friend, but i have been at school with him for years and from what i've seen you two have… I don't know, a natural chemistry. You've changed him, i've seen it. He's much more settled in himself these days, like you've calmed him down and made him fit himself better. And you're out of your shell now, cheeky and a little brazen, like him. I might be wrong, but i've seen the way your eyes fix on him at rehearsals, the way you laugh when when we all go out and he says… well pretty much anything. Now, i'm not showing you this to make you feel like you have to share in return. And i'm not asking you to either." She paused, and then her blue eyes met his again. "But i want you to know that if his name is on your wrist then i wouldn't be surprised."

Newt was stunned. His brain was backlogged, trying to process the monumental revelation, the precious secret Teresa had given him. His heart was thudding in his chest, adrenaline racing through him because of her wrist and because of her words. She knew. Had he been so blazingly obvious that everyone had figured it out?

"How… How did you-" His voice croaked, and he was blinking at her as his brain continued to try and catch up.

Teresa just smiled that gentle smile again.

"I had a hunch."

Newt looked down at his own left wrist, where his favourite blue and white wristband lay against his skin. He traced his fingers over it thoughtfully, as though playing the piano keys patterned on it's surface. He looked up at Teresa, watching her re-lace the red ribbon in a practiced manner. He curled his fingertips over the back edge of the wristband, his stomach churning and fear clutching at him as though he were about to commit a crime. He felt sick and uneasy and yet he wanted to. He wanted to prove to her that he could trust her just as much as she was trusting him. He swallowed, steeling himself.

"We shouldn't be doin' this." he whispered, before tugging the wristband up his arm to show her his own five letters.