Echoes of Us: The CEO and His Soulmates [BL]

Callum froze in the doorway, staring at the man in front of him. Blond hair, sharp blue eyes, a cocky tilt to his mouth. Did Callum think every attractive man with blonde hair and blue eyes was Prince Edric of Velentis? No. 

But Damian Wells definitely was. 

A harsh pounding started in Callum's head, as if his body instinctively recognized the person standing before him as an enemy before his mind caught up. His fists clenched, and centuries of anger consumed him. The feeling only deepened when he caught the faint flicker of recognition mirrored in Damian's piercing blue gaze. 

"Huh," Damian said, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smirk. "Small world." 

Callum's jaw tightened. "Excuse me?" 

But Damian didn't answer. His expression shifted, the amusement gone as he demanded, "Where's Micah?" 

Callum barely had time to respond before Damian pushed past him, striding into the apartment like he owned the place. Callum muttered under his breath, "Yes, literal stranger, come right in, make yourself comfortable." 

"Micah, love?" Damian called, his voice softening as he scanned the apartment. 

Micah's head shot up from where he was perched at the kitchen counter, his wide green eyes lighting up with relief. "Damian!" 

He slid off the barstool, the oversized sweatpants he was wearing nearly tripping him as he ran straight into Damian's open arms. 

The sight of them embracing made something sharp twist in Callum's chest. He looked away, trying to smother the bile rising in his throat. 

Damian held Micah close, one hand pressed to the back of his head, his thumb brushing over his curls. "Are you okay, love?" Damian murmured, his voice low and soothing. 

Micah nodded into his chest, his fingers clutching the leather of Damian's jacket. "I'm fine now. It was just… it was horrible, Damian. I don't know what would've happened if Callum hadn't been there." 

Damian pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at Micah, his hand still cupping his face protectively. Then his gaze flicked to Callum, sharp and assessing. "Callum Pierce, huh?" 

Callum didn't respond, his expression carefully neutral as their eyes locked. 

Micah looked between the two of them, his brow furrowing. "Do you two… know each other?" 

Damian's gaze lingered on Callum for a beat longer, his blue eyes hard and unyielding, before he turned back to Micah with a soft smile. "No," he said simply but his voice lacked sincerity. "Micah, love, let's get you home." 

Damian kept his arm firmly around Micah as they moved toward the door. On the way, Damian bent down to pick up Micah's broken glasses from the coffee table, handing them to him with a quiet, "We'll get these fixed." 

Micah paused at the door, turning back to Callum. "Thank you again," he said earnestly. "For everything. I'll make sure to return your clothes soon." 

Callum gave him a small, strained smile. "No rush," he said quietly. 

Damian hesitated for a moment, then he muttered a low, begrudging, "Thank you." 

The two men locked eyes again, and though neither said it aloud, there was an unspoken understanding between them: no matter how much they disliked each other, Micah's safety came first. And, no matter how little Damian wanted to admit it, he was glad Callum had been there to keep Micah safe as opposed to the prospect of no one.

Damian guided Micah out the door, Callum stood in the doorway and watched them go, taking pride in two things; that he did not punch Damian Wells in the face and that he did not tell Micah Liu that he had died in a fire.

---

The next day, Callum was in his office, trying and failing to focus on work. He'd come to find out, the hard way, that it was hard to work with the knowledge of your soulmate getting piped down by your sworn enemy swirling in the back of your mind. 

A soft knock on his office door pulled him from his thoughts. 

"Come in," he called, not bothering to look up. 

When he finally did glance up, he was surprised to see Micah standing there, clutching the strap of his bag nervously. 

"Micah," Callum said, setting his pen down. "Is everything okay?" 

"Y-yeah," Micah said, stepping inside. "I mean, I think so. Are you… busy?" 

"Not any busier than usual," Callum replied, leaning back in his chair. 

Micah hesitated, his cheeks dusted with pink. "Damian wanted me to ask if you'd join us for lunch. He wants to thank you properly. For last night." 

'I'd rather eat nails than break bread with that unicellular organism,' was what Callum wanted to say. What he ended up saying was, "That's not necessary." 

"I told him you'd be against it," Micah said quickly. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. But… I'd like it if you did." 

Callum stared at him for a moment and Micah Liu was lucky that he was cute because, if he were anyone else, Callum would've paid them to kick themselves out. "Alright," he said finally. "I'll come." 

---

Micah Liu was lucky he was the reincarnation of Callum's one true love because, if he were anyone else, Callum would've paid them to put a bullet through his skull.

He'd anticipated that lunch would be awkward; what he hadn't anticipated was that it would be awkward in a way that mirrored the awkwardness of holiday dinners with that one family member who'd only carried you that one time when you were a baby. It was Damian staring lovingly at Micah, Micah staring lovingly at Damian and Callum wishing the ground would open up, consume him and leave no bones.

It felt ironic, really. 

The same picnic table where Callum had sat with Micah on that cool morning—where Micah had gushed shyly about his art while Callum was slapped with the epiphany that he'd once deeply loved him—was now the very table where Callum found himself sitting across from Micah and his boyfriend, Damian Wells. 

Micah was carefully picking cherry tomatoes out of his salad, depositing them onto Damian's plate absent-mindedly. Damian, for his part, didn't look remotely fazed by the redistribution of vegetables. He lounged comfortably, one arm possessively over Micah's shoulders. 

Callum resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"So…" Damian began, his tone polite but with an edge to it. "Callum Pierce. Thank you for joining us." 

"Thank you for inviting me," Callum replied evenly, though the words felt hollow. 

"And thank you," Damian added, his smile tight, "for last night. For looking after my Micah." 

The emphasis on "my" wasn't lost on Callum and, once again, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Just piss around him and put up a sign.

Micah groaned, his face darkening with a blush. "Damiaaaaan, stop. You're embarrassing me." 

Seeing that blush made something in Callum's chest twist uncomfortably. He cleared his throat and said, "Micah's a valuable asset to this company." 

Micah's blush deepened. He stared down at his salad, poking at it like it might save him from the conversation. 

Damian chuckled, adjusting the drawstrings of Micah's hoodie to keep them from dipping into the salad dressing. Micah looked up at him—soft and full of affection and Callum… wanted to barf. Or throw his soda across the table. Maybe both. 

It felt so weird seeing Edric's azure eyes in a face they didn't quite belong to. Very uncanny valley. Like Damian's face was a photo of Edric's slightly altered—close enough to resemble the original but just off enough to make you do a double take. 

"It's good to see him doing what he loves most at a company like this," Damian continued, turning back to Callum. "I worry about him, you know, with me being so busy these days. That's why I came here. I needed to see for myself." 

"Damiaaaan," Micah groaned again, clearly exasperated. 

The two looked at each other again and the possibility of them nasty-making out in front of Callum increased with each passing second.

Nope. Not on his watch.

"What do you do for work, Mr. Wells?" he asked, directing the question at Damian. 

Micah brightened instantly, eager to jump into the conversation. "Damian does kickass work in investment and private equity!" 

Something clicked in Callum's mind. "Damian Wells…" he said slowly. "Of Wellspring Capital Partners?" 

Damian smirked, leaning back confidently. "In the flesh." 

Callum forced himself not to react outwardly, but inside, he was begrudgingly impressed. Wellspring Capital Partners wasn't just any private equity firm—it was the private equity firm, known for its cutthroat deals and high-stakes mergers. And Damian Wells had a reputation for sniffing out opportunities and turning them into goldmines. 

"Well, it's nice to meet you," Callum said finally, though the words tasted bitter on his tongue. 

"There's no need to be so formal," Damian replied, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll admit, I'm fascinated by the work your company does, but I'm not one to discuss business during meals. Besides, I'm here for my Micah," he pulled Micah closer and, once more, Callum wanted to scream. "You know he wants to create his own video game some day, yeah?"

While another embarrassed 'Damiaaaaaan, you weren't supposed to say that' erupted from Micah, Callum said, "No, I didn't know that."

Damian smirked a satisfied smirk, like the cat who got the milk and he turned to Micah, his voice softening. "You done with your salad, love?" 

Micah shook his head, still slowly picking at his food. 

"Hard day?"

Micah nodded. Damian brushed Micah's curls out of his face and cupped his chin. "How about we forget about the salad and you go get us some ice cream?"

Micah's pupils dilated, "Really!?" 

Damian grinned, handing him some cash "Of course." 

Micah rose from his seat and bounded off to the ice cream truck in the plaza. Callum watched him go, a small smile gracing his lips at the sight of the intern's pure joy. "I'm glad to see his mood has improved since last night," he said.

Damian replied, "Get your fuck me eyes off my boyfriend."

Callum's smile disappeared, along with his mood. He glared at Damian who was glaring right back with equal intensity. "Pardon?"

"Cut the bullshit," Damian said flatly. "I know you know who I am." 

Callum's eyes narrowed. "So, it's true. You really are him. And reincarnation really is…" 

Damian's smirk returned. "How much do you remember?" 

Callum bit his tongue, reminding himself to remain civil, "Bits and pieces. I do remember you betrayed me. You betrayed Ashur. You destroyed everything." 

"Even in a new life, I know you more than you do yourself Cael," Damian shrugged. "You can blame me all you want if it makes you feel any better. But it doesn't change the past."

Callum slammed a hand on the table. "Bullshit! You were my friend! You could've warned me!"

"I did warn you," Damian hissed. "You didn't listen." 

"And Ashur?" Callum growled. "You took him because you knew it'd hurt me." 

Damian's gaze darkened. "Get off your fucking high horse. I didn't even know who he really was when we first met, he definitely doesn't know who I was and he doesn't remember shit about you. It seems that fate has brought us together."

Callum was getting closer to the space between patience and rage, "Edric…"

"It's Damian!" Damian snapped, angrily. "That's the thing you don't fucking get. You died. So did I. So did he. Edric, Ashur and Caelan are gone." Micah walked back to the table just as Damian's voice lowered, almost growling. "This is a new life, and, in this one, I get the guy."

Micah's footsteps faltered. He looked between the two men, his expression shifting from confusion to worry. "What are you talking about?" he asked carefully.

Damian's head whipped toward him, his hard expression softening instantly. "Nothing important," he said smoothly. He stood quickly, blocking Micah's view of Callum's face. "We were just talking about work. Weren't we, Callum?"

Callum, still simmering with rage, bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to nod. "Yeah. Just work."

Micah tilted his head, unconvinced, but didn't press. "Okay," he said slowly. "Well, I got ice cream!" He held up the paper bag, smiling faintly. "Peanut butter for you, Callum. Damian, yours has chocolate chunks."

"Thanks babe," Damian said, pulling Micah into a searing kiss. 

Micah moaned into the kiss and Callum's blood boiled with a concoction of anger, jealousy and arousal. This was what he'd feared, the moment where Damian and Micah made out nasty in front of him. He looked away, his heart heavy. Micah's happiness was all that mattered, even if it meant Callum had to live with the fact that Damian was right. 

Fate was a bitch. It had taken Ashur from him once. And now, it had found a new way to do it all over again.