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

Micah woke with a start, his heart pounding like it's only objective was to escape his chest. 

The room was bathed in the faint, bluish haze of early evening and the sounds of the city filtered through his cracked window. It was the perfect evening, which made it all the more annoying that he was filled with an overwhelming feeling of—

"What the fuck!?"

Micah didn't particularly like swearing but how else was he supposed to describe the feeling coiled in his chest? How was he supposed to explain that dream?

His sheets clung to his sweat-soaked skin, his hair sticking to his forehead. He blinked up at the ceiling and tried to catch his breath, but images from the dream lingered, faint but vivid. 

There was a brook, sunlight glinting off the water's surface, and laughter—soft, teasing, achingly familiar. There was a dark haired man that looked eerily like his boss and then… 

Micah's hand drifted to his lips, tracing them absently. That kiss felt far too real for a dream. He tried to recall the details—the feel of the man's lips, the way his voice had softened when he'd spoken—but it was already slipping away, like sand falling through his fingers. 

The faint buzz of his phone broke through the haze, rattling against his nightstand. He jolted upright, his pulse quickening again. Snatching the phone, he pressed it to his ear without checking the caller ID. "Hello?" His voice came out hoarse. 

A warm, familiar voice responded. "Look out your window." 

Micah froze for half a second before scrambling out of bed. He nearly tripped over his own feet as he crossed the room and threw the curtains aside. 

There, standing on the sidewalk below, was Damian. He was dressed impeccably as always—dark jeans and a perfectly tailored coat that looked casual but probably cost more than Micah's rent for the month. His arms were crossed and a grin spread across his face as he caught Micah's gaze. 

Micah's heart stuttered, and for a brief moment, he was overwhelmed by joy at the sight of his boyfriend. The dream, the strange kiss, the post-sleep-confusion—it all melted away. Without thinking, he threw on a hoodie and bolted out of his room. 

He didn't bother with shoes as he burst through the front door of his apartment building and down the stairs. Damian barely had time to brace himself before Micah threw his arms around him, burying his face against Damian's chest. 

"You're here," Micah said, his voice muffled against Damian's coat. 

Damian chuckled, his arms wrapping tightly around Micah. "Of course I'm here. Did you miss me?" 

Micah pulled back just enough to kiss him—a quick, soft press of his lips to Damian's. "Of course I did." 

Damian studied him for a moment, his sharp gray eyes narrowing slightly. "What's wrong?" 

Micah hesitated, his fingers curling in the fabric of his boyfriend's coat. Of course Damian would pick up on the subtle shifts in Micah's mood. He was always so attentive, so watchful.

"Nothing," Micah said quickly, forcing a small smile. "I just… had a weird dream." 

Damian arched an eyebrow. "Weird how?" 

Micah shook his head. "I don't remember much of it. It's nothing." 

Damian didn't look entirely convinced, but he let it slide. "Well, can't say I haven't been having my own fair share of weird dreams. Maybe it's the season," he said, pressing another kiss to Micah's temple. Taking Micah's hand, he grinned, "Come on. Let's go inside. It's freezing out here." 

True. Micah's decision to forgo shoes had turned his toes to icicles. He let himself be led back inside, listening to their footsteps echoing up the stairwell as they climbed. It was silly but he'd missed the sound. He'd missed having Damian walking beside him. Now that he was back, all felt right in the world.

Once they stepped into his shared apartment, Damian glanced around and asked, "Where are your roommates?" 

"They went out for date night," Micah replied, closing the door behind them. 

Damian smirked. "Convenient." 

Micah rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the slight flush that crept up his neck. He led Damian to the living room, where the couch was still covered in throw blankets from the night before. Damian shed his coat, tossing it over the armrest before collapsing onto the couch like he owned the place. 

Micah followed, curling up beside him. The moment Damian draped an arm around his shoulders, Micah let himself sink into the warmth of his boyfriend's embrace. 

"How was your trip?" Micah asked softly, his head resting against Damian's chest. 

"Exhausting," Damian replied, his voice tinged with irritation. "I've shaken hands with enough rich old men to last me a lifetime. Networking is such a chore." 

Micah chuckled. "Poor you." 

Damian tilted his head to look at him. "I don't really want to talk about it," he admitted. "What about you? How's work been?" 

Micah hesitated, his thoughts flashing back to the meeting his department had with Callum. How he'd asked for Micah's opinion, how no one had laughed at his suggestion and how Callum's quiet praise had made him feel like he belonged. 

"It's been… good," he said finally. "Better than I expected. I never imagined I'd be having so much fun at Catalyst Games." 

Damian smiled, his hand brushing gently through Micah's curls. "I'm proud of you," he said, his voice low. "You've worked so hard for this. You never gave up on your dreams and now, you're living them." 

Micah's chest tightened at the words. "Thank you," he murmured. He tilted his head up, meeting Damian's gaze. "Thank you for getting me here. For sticking with me through everything." 

Micah's decision to drop out of his mechanical engineering course and switch to art had been the final straw to break the camel's back. His parents had always hated him, always seen him as a subhuman entity whom somehow, by some curse, they had spawned. Becoming an engineer was the only way he had any value in their eyes, the only moment they had smiled at him was when he showed them his acceptance letter to an engineering programme.

But Micah had fought himself for so long and finally decided there was no point in studying something he had no interest in. His parents had disowned him and cut him off faster than he could even break the news of his decision. He'd been lost, broken and broke. But Damian Wells, the cute accounting student he'd agreed to go out with in his first year, had always been there for him. Even when he refused to take his money, even when he lied through his teeth that he was okay, Damian was always there. Always making sure Micah ate full meals, always slipping extra cash into the envelopes of his meagre pay checks, always there to talk him out of another panic attack. 

Micah loved him so much, it made his heart ache.

Damian's expression softened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to Micah's forehead. "I've told you before, Micah. You don't need to thank me." 

Micah frowned slightly. "Still…" 

"Just keep doing what you're doing," Damian said firmly, pulling Micah closer. "You know I'll always support you." 

Micah smiled faintly, his heart swelling a few inches bigger. "I love you." 

"I love you too," Damian replied without hesitation, his voice steady and sure. 

A comfortable silence settled between them, but Damian broke it after a moment. "How's your health been? Have you been eating?" 

The question hit Micah like a splash of cold water. He stiffened slightly, guilt pooling in his stomach. "I'm fine," he said quickly. "And yes, I've been eating." 

It wasn't exactly a lie. He had been eating—just not as much as he probably should. Food wasn't appetising when his nerves were frayed and the world felt overwhelming. It felt horrible to cap off his 'I love you' with a half-lie, but even in all their years together, Micah didn't like Damian worrying about him. He didn't like being the reason Damian was unhappy.

Damian didn't push, and Micah let out a quiet breath of relief. 

They stayed like that for a while, Damian's hand absently tracing patterns along Micah's arm. It was easy, comforting. Yet, even as Micah rested his head against Damian's chest, a strange ache remained deep in his heart. 

When they finally fell asleep later that night, tangled together on his bed, Micah's dreams were quiet. But when he stirred in the dark, his head tucked under Damian's chin, the ache returned. 

It felt like someone else's arms were supposed to be around him.