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

Screw Micah for reminding Callum he was gay.

It was so easy to forget he was bisexual when nobody ever addressed it. His parents pretended like it didn't exist, he didn't have many friends and the few he had were comfortable with the optics of him with a pretty girl on his arm and he was too busy with work to date anyways so it all just… fell by the wayside.

He hated when he heard his parents say "It's nice to meet Callum's… good friend" when he brought his first boyfriend home so he stopped bringing his boyfriends home and he hated his partners asking why he worked so much so he stopped having partners.

But then the dreams started and Ashur happened. Micah Liu happened.

Callum threw himself into his plush leather office seat and pressed a knuckle to his forehead. He needed a drink.

And, quite possibly, brain surgery.

Nothing made any sense anymore. He'd gotten used to the dreams. To seeing the shadows of a brook and the golden glow of sunset, followed by a barn. He knew the feeling of flames licking at the edges of his mind and he knew the taste of the man's lips. 

Callum hated waking up when the man was in his dreams. Those smirking green eyes captivated him and the sweet voice teased him relentlessly. Sometimes he'd hear it laughing, sometimes murmuring his name—no, his title: "My prince." 

The man had a way of undoing him in the dreams, saying things Callum could barely bring himself to think of, let alone repeat aloud. Sometimes, he'd wake up rock solid and breathing hard from the images his mind presented him. If the dreams were absurd, the wet dreams were even more so; the man of his dreams was a tease.

Seeing a cute guy in his sleep was one thing… but the man of his dreams was here.

Callum clenched his fists beneath the table, the crescent of his nails pressing into his palms until the bite of pain reminded him of his manners. He was being ridiculous. Micah Liu was his employee, nothing more. He didn't think of him like that. He was curious about him, in awe of him. That was all. He wanted to know how Micah knew the things he saw in his dreams, wanted to dissect him until he got to the truth. It was pure, scientific curiosity. 

Wasn't it?

"And that's why I think we should change the background colors for the Mars level," one of the designers concluded. 

Callum blinked and checked his watch. It was noon. He glanced around the room, realizing everyone's eyes were on him. Genesis gave him a look that said 'Pay attention! You wanted this stupid meeting in the first place!'

He straightened in his seat and forced his voice to sound steady. "Thank you for all your hard work, everyone. Genesis, I assume we've been keeping track of everything?" 

She gave him a thumbs up. 

"Good. Let's pause here and reconvene after lunch." 

The team filtered out of the room, heading for the cafeteria, but Callum's gaze followed a very specific shock of curly brown hair. He was halfway out of his seat when Genesis appeared in front of him, blocking his path.

"Alright," she said, crossing her arms. "What's going on?" 

"Nothing," Callum replied, carefully neutral. 

Genesis raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Don't give me that. You've been acting weird ever since this intern batch started. And no offense, boss man, but y'know… you have a reputation." 

Callum sighed. "I'm well aware of my reputation, thank you." 

"Good. So what's this about?" 

Callum's jaw tightened, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. He glanced toward the door, just in time to see Micah disappearing around the corner. With a defeated sigh, he turned back to Genesis. 

"Look," he began, his voice low. "I have one good game to my name. One. People may say it's the greatest game, game of the year, game of the decade; but it's still just one game. And this company, this team we've built—I don't want them clinging to the glory of something I made years ago. I want them to know Catalyst wasn't a mistake. That we're doing something magical here. That we can do it again." 

Genesis blinked. After a beat, she said, "Damn. Nice speech. Use it at the next end-of-year party, yeah?" 

Callum glared. "Don't you have work to do?" 

"Yeah, yeah." She waved him off. "See you after lunch, boss." 

Genesis strode off, and Callum bolted down the hallway—discreetly, of course. A CEO couldn't exactly run without attracting attention. 

When he reached the cafeteria, his gaze darted around the room. Employees sat in clusters, chatting over trays of food, but Micah was nowhere to be found. He felt the gazes of the crowd fall on him, the way a few employees nudged each other and whispered as he passed. He tried to ignore it, the faint heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck, and turned toward the bay windows. 

And there he was. 

Through the glass, Callum spotted Micah sitting outside in the plaza, brow furrowed as he picked at something in his hands. Callum didn't hesitate. He pushed through the doors, the sound of the cafeteria fading behind him. 

Micah didn't notice him approach at first, too lost in his thoughts. When Callum finally spoke, his voice came out softer than he intended. "Micah Liu." 

Micah looked up, startled. Confusion flickered across his face before recognition settled in. "Mr. Pierce." 

Callum hesitated. He'd been waiting for a moment like this, a moment where he could just talk to him. But, now that he had the opportunity, he didn't really know what to say. 

His gaze dropped to Micah's hands, where he held a modest quesadilla wrapped in foil. "Aren't you going to have lunch?" 

Micah held up the tortilla with a shy smile. "I have a quesadilla." 

Callum's lips twitched as he bit back a smile. The way Micah held up the tortilla, like a child caught with a cookie before dinner was so adorable. 

That right there! That warm, fuzzy feeling growing in Callum's chest was the kind of thing Micah brought that he didn't really like. Did sweet emotions always feel so… flowery?

He tilted his head, unimpressed. "I can see that. But… is that all you're having?" 

Micah glanced down at it like it had personally betrayed him. "In all honesty," he said quietly, "I'm not very hungry." 

Callum sensed the half-lie but decided it wasn't his place to pry. "May I sit?" He asked, gesturing to the spot beside him. 

Micah blinked, surprised. "Be my guest." 

Callum sat down and silence stretched between them. Painfully awkward silence that he'd never had to sit through before. "Is something wrong?" he asked eventually. 

"Oh, it's just nerves," Micah admitted, fidgeting with the foil. "I have a hard time adapting to new places." He quickly added, "I'm a good employee, though! A hard worker and a team player." 

Callum raised an eyebrow, amused. "You don't need to sell yourself to me. I've seen your portfolio." 

Micah's eyes widened. "You have?" 

Callum nodded, looking across the plaza. He didn't, couldn't, meet Micah's gaze as he replied, "Your work is amazing." 

Micah's voice softened, almost disbelieving. "You have no idea how hearing those words from the Callum Pierce makes me feel." 

Callum rolled his eyes. "'The' Callum Pierce is a stretch. I'm just Callum." 

Micah's smile was small but sincere. "Agree to disagree." 

A quiet laugh escaped Callum before he could stop it. There was something disarming about Micah's dry humor, something that made the ever-present burden on his shoulders feel just a little lighter. 

He wet his lips with his tongue, staring at the bustle of lunch-time activity in the plaza. Employees from other offices at the plaza were getting lunch at a food truck, there were kids begging their parents for ice cream and skateboarders zipping by with their backpacks slung over their shoulders. It had never been so difficult for him to start up a conversation; Callum was a man of few words but he always, always spoke his mind. But, Micah? Micah twisted his stomach into knots and made him forget every word in the English language.

He inhaled a deep breath. Exhaled, and said, "That fox-tiger creature that shows up multiple times in your work…"

A grin tugged at the corners of Micah's lips. "Tiger-fox," he corrected.

Callum tilted his head, "Oh?"

Micah nodded. "It's all in the ears and tail; they're more fox-like than the rest of its features. I like to say it's 85% tiger, 15% fox."

He suddenly shuts up like he's realized who he's talking to and he groans, pushing his glasses aside to rub his eyes. "Sorry," he says, his tone soaked in embarrassment. "It's stupid." 

The words broke Callum's heart. He recognised they'd come from someone who's work was constantly under-appreciated, someone who couldn't see the value in their artistic vision because they'd always been told it was worthless. He could relate.

"Micah; creativity isn't stupid," he said slowly, carefully. "The things you create are worth talking about."

Micah's fingers slipped from his eyes and the wide, green orbs focused on Callum. Callum's heart missed a beat… or two. He cleared his throat, hiding his reddening cheeks behind a fist. 

"What do you call them?"

Micah pushes his glasses further up his nose, his gaze finding the ground. "Kinnarion's. They're my comfort characters. I've been drawing them since I was a kid."

Callum swallowed hard. "They're beautiful."

Micah shifted in his seat and Callum noticed he had yet to take a bite of his quesadilla. "I like to imagine they're very soft," he said.

The silence returned, heavier this time. Callum's mind raced with questions he couldn't ask, truths he couldn't name. This was real. There was no way Micah could've known what a Kinnarion was, there was no way he could have known it. Yet, here they were; two strangers with a shared knowledge of a world that didn't exist.

Callum opened his mouth to say something (he wasn't exactly sure what) but before he could say anything, Micah broke the quiet. 

"Have we met before?" 

Callum turned to him, startled. 

Micah flushed, looking down at his hands. "I mean, before the day before yesterday. When I, uh… tackled you." 

Callum chuckled. "I'd hardly call that a tackle." 

Micah groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Have we met before?" he repeated, his voice muffled. "You seemed to recognize me." 

Callum ran a hand through his hair, unsure how to respond and his chest tightened at the question. Of course they'd met before. Not in this life, maybe, but in dreams too vivid to forget. Dreams where those same green eyes stared at him with the kind of love that burned everything else away. But here? Now? He couldn't say that without sounding insane. He couldn't exactly blurt out, "Hey! You've been haunting my dreams for years. Have you ever worked in or ever considered working in a tiger-fox stable? And how do you feel about sex in a stream?' 

"You just looked familiar, that's all," he said instead. 

Micah hesitated, then asked, "Like an old friend named Ashur?" 

Callum's chest tightened. He nodded slowly. "An old friend? I suppose you could call him that." 

But in his heart, he knew Ashur was more than that. And he knew, somehow, that Micah was connected to him. 

He'd find the truth, even if it meant tearing apart everything he thought he knew. Because Micah Liu wasn't just a stranger. And he couldn't let it go.