Work Text:
2/15/2030
Emmet feels like the envelope in his pocket may burn a hole right through his pants. He’s been working on the letter it contains for weeks. How do you put these kinds of feelings into words? Words you are then going to give to the love of your life? It’s been agonizing and anxiety inducing but Lincoln is worth the effort. Lincoln is worth everything to him.
He may only be 17, but he’s known who his soulmate is since he first set eyes on him at 11.
Thinking through their time together and trying to pinpoint the precise moment he truly fell for Lincoln could have been an exercise in futility if it hadn’t been for that night in the tunnel. There have been so many moments when he felt his heart race just from the look in Lincoln’s eyes, but that night is seared into his memory with such clarity that there is little doubt in his mind about what words will appear on Lincoln’s skin on his birthday this year.
He can’t bear to think about what might happen if he’s wrong, if the words aren’t his at all. The fleeting thought drops his stomach through the floor and turns his brain to lead. He’s been avoiding that train of thought as much as possible.
He pulls the envelope out of his pocket and sits down with his back against the tree. Turning the envelope over in his hands, he glances down the path that Lincoln always uses, marked by a small break in the treeline. It’s not late yet, but Emmet is hoping Lincoln shows up early.
He just really wants to see his boyfriend’s face, it makes him feel better.
~~~~~~
Lincoln can’t stop thinking about the note in his glove box. He knows it’s clumsy, but he’d had so much trouble trying to make sense of his own thoughts. He’d probably have been better off if he’d been able to put them to music, but that just wasn’t an option for this. It felt so important, like something that needed to be just right. Words aren’t always his forte, but for Emmet he did his damnedest.
Thinking through their time together, there have been so many moments where his heart skipped beats, his pulse raced, and his mouth went dry. Trying to pinpoint one single moment in all of his love for Emmet was like trying to land a helicopter on a dime next to a tornado. His thoughts about Emmet swirled in circles round and round and the only thing that could calm the storm was Emmet’s presence. Holding Emmet’s hand grounds Lincoln in a way that even his guitar can’t manage; looking into Emmet’s eyes for even a brief moment calms the storm in Lincoln’s mind.
So Cheesy, ugh!
This is what his brain does when he thinks about how much he loves his boyfriend.
The letter ended up containing several possible phrases. There are a couple that may be wishful thinking on his part, and some that could definitely be right. He left one particularly noteworthy possibility off the list out of pure hope, because surely the universe isn’t cruel enough to make Emmet live with those words on his skin forever. He has had a lot of momentous thoughts about Emmet over the years they’ve known each other, and he thinks that it really could be anything. As long as the words that appear on Emmet’s skin in a few short months are his, he doesn’t care exactly what they say.
He can’t imagine anyone else loving Emmet as much as he does, and he can’t let himself think about that possibility. Lincoln knows that this is one thing that can send him spiraling like nothing else. His therapist helps a lot but none of the techniques that he’s learned in the last year seem to be very effective against this particular intrusive thought..
Sometimes Lincoln wishes he could skip ahead to just know with 100 percent certainty.
He pulls his truck into the parking lot and grabs the letter before locking the doors and heading through the treeline. One of these days they are definitely going to get caught sneaking in and out of this park, but for now his path is well-trodden and so familiar to him that he could find his way through the trees with his eyes closed.
As he breaks through the treeline he spots a familiar shadow in the distance and his heart pumps harder for a moment.
He loves this boy with his entire being.
The letter in his hand suddenly feels lighter, just like he thought it might, and he stuffs it into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie. Nothing lifts his spirits quite like Emmet. He glances to the left and right to make sure there aren’t any officers currently patrolling. It’s rare, but it happens; he doesn’t really feel like hiding in a concrete tunnel tonight, cozy as that might be. Seeing no one in the immediate area, he makes his way quickly across the open space.
~~~~~~~
The previous year’s Valentine’s Day had been... Not a disaster, per se, but it had definitely qualified as kind of ridiculous. They’d both bought too much chocolate, and then they’d realized that they’d both made reservations for dinner at different places at the same time. They’d both wanted to go all-out for their first Valentine’s, and then had completely forgotten to coordinate. This year was much more relaxed, and while there had still been an overabundance of chocolate, that had been the only gift they’d exchanged that morning before heading to their respective schools. Their real gifts this year, saved for a less rushed moment, were tucked carefully away in each of their pockets.
Emmet looks up to see Lincoln making his way across the open park and stands slowly, stuffing the now wrinkled envelope into the pocket of his stolen hoodie. He lets the too-long sleeves hang past his wrists and smiles to himself as Lincoln gets closer. It’s such a strange dichotomy to feel his heart race while his thoughts slow nearly to a halt, but that’s just what Lincoln’s presence does to him. They’ve been together for nearly a year and a half, but the feeling never gets old.
Lincoln reaches out as he finally gets close enough to pull Emmet to him for a brief kiss hello, leaving their foreheads pressed together as he pulls back slightly.
“Hey Booboo, I missed you.”
Emmet laughs and tries to pull away, only to find Lincoln’s hands are clasped behind his back, blocking his retreat.
“Lincoln! I’ve told you a thousand times not to call me that.”
He stops struggling and brings his hands up to Lincoln’s shoulders, sliding his arms forward and clasping his hands behind Lincoln’s head.
“Yeah, you have.” Lincoln nods as he speaks, a smirk becoming audible in his voice as he continues. “But I won’t believe you mean it until it stops making you laugh like that. You know how much I love making you laugh, babe.”
Emmet sighs. He’s not sure that Lincoln will ever stop making him laugh; the name sounds ridiculous coming from his boyfriend, and it’s always paired with a little smirk because Lincoln knows he’s getting away with something. Emmet can’t help being amused.
“I live ever in hope. How was your day?”
Emmet pulls his arms in slightly, tugging Lincoln into a proper hug and letting himself enjoy the warmth it provides. Lincoln squeezes him back tightly for a moment before speaking.
“Eh, it was alright. It’s definitely better now.”
Emmet can hear the smile in his tone and feels the echoing joy in his cheeks. He pulls away and turns to grab his backpack from the base of the tree. Reaching into the front compartment his hand reappears with two juice pouches in his grasp. He grins as he hands one to Lincoln.
“I brought us some snacks. A little late-night picnic in the park? Just for us? I thought you might want to look at your star too, so I brought my telescope.” He gestures back towards the base of the tree. He feels kind of nervous and it’s throwing him a little off balance. He doesn’t usually feel nervous around Lincoln anymore.
This letter exchange has really gotten to him in a way he wasn’t entirely expecting. He doesn’t even know if Lincoln is going to read it, but soon Lincoln will have this piece of paper with some of Emmet’s most personal thoughts and feelings, and that’s just a lot to process. He hasn’t given any thought yet to whether he’s going to read Lincoln’s letter; he’s been too busy trying to make sure his own is just right.
“Sure, Emmet. That sounds really nice.” Lincoln is smiling softly at him, his head tilted slightly to one side, like he knows that Emmet’s brain is going a million miles a minute, and Emmet takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and slow his rapidly spiraling thoughts.
“Great.” He turns toward the tree again to grab his backpack and pulls the small blanket out of the top. Emmet turns back to find Lincoln closer than he expects and fumbles the blanket in surprise. Lincoln barely manages to catch the fabric before it falls to the ground.
“I can handle the picnic if you want to set up the telescope?” Lincoln’s face is as soft as his words and Emmet’s breath catches in his throat. He clears it before attempting to speak.
“Thank you.” He looks down at the bundle of fabric in his hand and sees Lincoln’s fingers gripping it next to his own. He lets go and moves to the telescope, suddenly glad that this is a task he could do in his sleep. He lets his body go through the motions automatically, loosening and tightening handles, leveling the base, and finally locating Lincoln’s star. They look at it together pretty often, so now it takes him only a few minutes to lock the telescope down just right.
When he turns back to Lincoln he sees that the blanket is spread out and Lincoln is pulling snacks out of Emmet’s open bag. He steps closer and Lincoln looks up with a bag of M&Ms clutched in his grasp and a grin on his face. He returns the smile and sits on the other side of the blanket rather than directly next to Lincoln. They’ve both gotten better over the last year, though they still end up pelting each other with the last few candies more often than not.
Despite their initial nerves about the pending letter exchange, they manage to settle into a normal routine fairly quickly. Soon the air around them is filled with the sound of stifled laughter as candy arcs across the blanket. When the candy supply runs out, they move to the telescope together to enjoy the sight through the lens.
“I still can’t believe you bought me a star, Emmet. Only you could manage to be that cheesy and perfect at the same time. No one else could ever manage to pull it off.” Lincoln steps back from the eyepiece and wraps his arms around his boyfriend. Emmet tucks his head under Lincoln’s chin, presses his cold cheek to Lincoln’s chest and uses his warmth to ward off the chilling wind.
“You write me whole songs. I don’t think I have the market cornered on cheesy or perfect.” Emmet can feel Lincoln’s heart beating beneath his cheek, and he relishes in the steady rhythm. He’s tempted to sneak a cold hand under the edge of Lincoln’s hoodie and see if the jolt would cause a noticeable reaction, but decides that instigating that particular style of horseplay right now would most likely attract attention if anyone is patrolling the park. He glances skyward and notices the clouds moving a little more rapidly than usual. “Umm, Lincoln? Did you happen to check the weather for tonight?”
“No. That’s usually your thing. Planner, right?” Emmet can hear the fondness in his voice, but winces all the same.
“Well. Usually, yes. But I was a little preoccupied and I may have forgotten to check.” He turns his head to hide his chagrined face in Lincoln’s chest. “Can you check it real quick? I don’t like the look of the clouds rolling in right now.”
One of Lincoln’s arms leaves his shoulder briefly as he reaches for the phone in his pocket. The arm returns to his shoulder and he relishes in the warmth it brings. He can feel some shifting as Lincoln pokes through his phone to the correct app and waits silently for him to share the information.
“Bad news - we’re probably about to get drenched, we gotta go. Is your bike on the far side of the park? We can head straight to the truck and then go pick it up. I don’t think you’ll have time to make it home before it hits.” Lincoln gives him a quick squeeze before stepping back and moving to grab the blanket. Emmet sighs as the cold seeps into him where Lincoln had previously been sharing his warmth and slowly moves to the telescope. He’s glad that he’s very practiced and can take it down in moments, but he’s sad to have their night cut short.
“Yeah, it’s where I usually leave it. I’m sorry that I forgot to check the weather.” He knows the stress is audible in his voice, but the oversight is so unusual for him and this is definitely his fault. He sighs again as he continues to break down the telescope. He’s reaching for the bag when Lincoln comes into his field of vision holding it open for him, the blanket already stowed away in a backpack.
“It’s ok, Emmet, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. I could have checked too; it’s not just your responsibility. I’m still glad we got a little time here tonight. I wouldn’t have missed that just for a chance of rain.” Lincoln’s lips turn up at the corners and Emmet can see the truth of it in his eyes when they meet his own. Emmet smiles back and places the last of the pieces of the telescope into the bag.
“You know just what to say to make a boy feel special, Lincoln.” He lets a small laugh escape as he swings the telescope onto his back and looks around to see if they’ve left anything else on the ground.
Satisfied that they have everything, they start walking towards the break in the trees where Lincoln appeared earlier in the night. A few stray raindrops are already landing on their heads so they quicken their pace. When they break through the other side of the treeline, it’s clear to them that the treetops had been protecting them from the now much steadier rainfall.
They make a run for Lincoln’s truck, laughter ringing through the air. Lincoln hits the unlock button as they get closer and they throw themselves inside the cab as quickly as they can. Emmet pulls the door closed behind him and then struggles to remove his telescope from his bag in the small space. Lincoln shakes some of the water off of his head and reaches over to help Emmet extricate his arms from the straps of the bag. They struggle together for a moment but eventually free Emmet’s limbs and stow the telescope behind the cab’s seats.
“Well, that’s not exactly how I pictured our evening going,” Emmet huffs out a little laugh before he continues, “but at least I still got to spend it with you.” Lincoln smiles at him and leans over to give him a tender kiss. “Also, I do kind of love the slightly drowned rat look on you, so win-win, honestly.” Emmet grins as he finishes speaking, and Lincoln’s laughter in response is filled with joy. Emmet loves the way it makes him feel, knowing he caused that reaction.
“Well, it’s a little cold, but I’m glad you’re getting some enjoyment out of it at least. Let’s go grab your bike and get you home. Neither of us should sit around in wet clothes for too long. We don’t want to get sick.” Lincoln starts the truck and pulls onto the road carefully, navigating his way around the park to where Emmet left his bike and pulling as close as he can before shifting into park. Emmet is out the door, tossing his bike into the bed of the truck, before Lincoln can offer to do it for him. Lincoln cranks the heat up a notch while Emmet is dashing through the rain.
Emmet slams back into his seat with a huff, significantly more saturated than he’d been moments earlier. He reaches for his seatbelt, fastening it quickly, and then puts his fingers up to the vents in an attempt to warm his cold, wet hands. Lincoln watches him for a moment before pulling his own hoodie off.
“Here, Emmet, take mine. You’re way more wet than I am, and the heat is kicking in now. I’ll be ok without it for the drive.” He holds it out to Emmet and watches as he tries to formulate an argument for a moment. Realizing that logic is on Lincoln’s side here, he’s quick to pull off the wet fabric, shivering, and slides the much drier hoodie, still warm with Lincoln’s body heat, over his head. He pulls the fabric up to his nose and inhales the scent of his favorite person. “Thank you. Do you want to take the other one home for now? I know I steal your hoodies a lot, I don’t want you to run out.” He sounds a little sheepish.
“Yeah, I’ll take that one back for a while, but you know I don’t mind, right? I love seeing you wear them.” He can feel his cheeks warm with a light blush, and he can feel Emmet’s eyes on him. “Don’t say a word, if I could fit into your hoodies, you would feel exactly the same.” He keeps his eyes focused on the task of driving as he makes his way toward the main road, but he catches a glimpse of Emmet’s warm cheeks out of the corner of his eye when he’s checking the rearview mirror. He realizes after a moment that Emmet’s hands are probably in the pocket of his hoodie for warmth. The pocket of his hoodie that contains his letter.
“Umm, you probably already noticed, but your letter is in the pocket there.”
“I thought that might have been what it was. You still want me to have it right? You can still change your mind if you want. I know you were a little nervous about it.”
Lincoln takes a deep breath and makes another turn.
“I’m sure. It was...kind of a lot? To write it, I mean? But, I’m glad we decided to write these, and I want you to have it.” He nods decisively. “Yeah. I wrote it for you and I want you to have it, even if you want to wait and read it closer to your birthday. It feels right for you to have it.” He’s feeling a little breathless at the thought of Emmet having some of his innermost thoughts on their relationship. They aren’t hidden in any kind of metaphor, or draped in a melody - they’re just written out as plain and simple as he could make them. He’s never shared anything this personal with anyone before, but Emmet has always been the exception for Lincoln. Emmet gets to know all of Lincoln, even when it’s a little scary.
“Thank you, Lincoln. It really means a lot to me that you wrote it. Your letter is in my hoodie, too. I hope the rain didn’t ruin it, actually.” He reaches for the hoodie sitting between them and pulls an envelope out of the pocket. It’s only a little damp, the fabric having taken the brunt of the rain. “I think it’s fine, but if you have any problems, let me know? I...may have written it a couple times so I could probably recreate it if I really needed to.” Lincoln smiles at the admission. “I’ll let you know, babe. It’ll probably be fine though. Can you put it in the glovebox for now?” Emmet nods and tucks the envelope away carefully. They’re approaching Emmet’s street, sooner than either of them likes.
Emmet speaks up as Lincoln makes the final turn onto his street. “Do you want to come watch a movie with me tomorrow? Since our night got cut short?” Lincoln pulls up to the curb outside of Emmet’s house and shifts to park before turning to face Emmet.
“That sounds like a great idea, babe. I’d love to.” He looks out at the rain for a moment; it’s a steady downpour now. “Do you want to leave your bike in the back? I can bring it back tomorrow. That way you’re not in the rain any longer than you have to be? Just a quick dash to the door? I really don’t want you to catch a cold.” He reaches out to grab Emmet’s hands with his own for a moment, making sure they no longer hold a chill from his time in the rain.
“Yeah, that’s perfect. Can I actually leave the telescope for tonight too?” He squeezes Lincoln’s hands tight for a moment, loving the way they feel clasped tightly together.
“Of course you can, I’ll keep it safe for you. Now, you head inside and take a hot shower, ok? That cold rain cannot be good for you.” He leans forward for a kiss goodnight, which Emmet returns happily. “Goodnight. I love you.” Emmet’s eyes are bright when he responds, “I will, and I love you too. Drive safe, text me when you get home, ok? I want to know when you get there safely; this rain is pretty heavy. You know I’ll worry otherwise.”
“I do know, and I’ll text you the moment I get home.” They release the tight grasp of their hands and Emmet unbuckles his seatbelt before turning and bracing himself for the downpour.
“Ok, for real this time, I’m going. Night! Love you!” Emmet doesn’t wait for a final response, he pulls the door handle and is out the door in an instant. It slams shut behind him as he makes a mad dash for the front porch, shoulders hunched forward in an attempt to protect the envelope he carries in his stolen pocket.
Lincoln waits for Emmet to reach the porch and watches as he disappears through the front door. Lincoln takes a moment to breathe deeply, soaking in the sound of the heavy rain on the roof of the truck. He sees the light click on behind Emmet’s bedroom curtains and warmth bubbles in his chest. He’s speaking before he can think to stop himself.
“I love you too, Emmet. Sweet dreams.”
He shifts into gear and pulls away from the curb with a smile on his face.
5/17/2030
Emmet pulls back from his telescope, finally having focused it where he wants it, and goes to sit on the porch swing to wait for Lincoln. The backyard is clearly in the middle of party preparations, with stacks of chairs lining one edge of the yard and tables sitting on the other. There’s a fire pit half-constructed in one corner, and his telescope sits opposite. There’s a banner sitting on one of the tables that he hasn’t seen unrolled yet, but if he knows anything about his moms, it contains an embarrassing pun and a truly terrible color scheme.
His graduation ceremony is tomorrow and next week he starts a summer-long internship. The internship had been a compromise with his moms - it made them feel better about his choice to delay college a year, and it gave him something to do for the summer. Lincoln’s parents hadn’t wanted him to go on an extended travel adventure with his boyfriend before he turned 18, so they settled for a fall departure date just after Lincoln’s birthday. Emmet has a countdown clock on his laptop.
Emmet has several countdown clocks actually, all neatly labeled with their purposes, and he loves seeing them every time he minimizes his windows. One will run out tomorrow; another will follow next month. He is looking forward to a lot of things. Unfortunately, each of those clocks also represents something that makes his blood pressure skyrocket. Graduation is tomorrow. His 18th birthday is next month. His soulmark will come in and they’ll know for sure if the words are Lincoln’s.
He thinks of the letter in his nightstand. He has read it more times than he can remember at this point. It’s full of possibilities and the fact that Lincoln couldn’t think of a single specific moment that he fell in love with Emmet has provided him both comfort and anxiety in equal parts depending on the day.
If Lincoln couldn’t think of one moment, then maybe there wasn’t one. Maybe the words that appear on his skin won’t be Lincoln’s after all.
Alternately, if Lincoln couldn’t think of one moment, maybe that’s just because he falls in love with Emmet all over again all the time and the feeling is the same.
Emmet gets stuck in these thoughts some days. There’s no way for them to know for sure until the words arrive. He tries to comfort himself with the fact that they have talked about what they will do, if the words don’t match up. Some days those back up plans are enough to stop the spiral; sometimes, though, it doesn’t make him feel any better. He knows that the only thing that will fully stop this anxiety spiral is the event coming to pass, but it’s still a month away and until that time he will remain in this terrible state of schrodinger’s soulmark. The best or worst day of his life is looming large on the horizon.
He starts at the sound of the door opening. He’d gotten lost in his thoughts again, an all too common occurrence for him these days. Lincoln appears in the doorway, starkly backlit, and Emmet squints in his direction.
“Hey,” Lincoln moves forward and closes the door behind himself blocking the majority of the blinding light from escaping the house.
“Hey,” Emmet smiles, and he can hear it in his own voice. Lincoln’s presence is calming for him in ways he can’t put into words, no matter how many times he tries. Lincoln is definitely the master of words in their duo,has gotten better and better at expressing himself over the years, and Emmet cannot hold a candle to his abilities. Emmet has lost count of the scraps of paper he has collected in a box in his closet. They’re just little words and phrases that Lincoln likes to slip into his pockets to make him smile. Emmet had started out just tucking them into his bedside drawer, but after he almost ruined them with a misplaced glass of water he’d upgraded to the box in his closet. It also has copies of some of his favorite pictures of them. He’s a sap, he knows it, and he is still learning to embrace it.
“You ready for tomorrow?” Lincoln sits carefully on the swing next to him, reaching for Emmet’s hand.
“I guess? I mean, I did the hard part already, right?” Emmet’s brow furrows. “The years of schooling and homework are done. I just have to sit there in uncomfortable clothes, in the heat, for hours. Actually, you know what, maybe I could just skip it, because this sounds terrible? Why do people go to graduations?” Emmet turns his head to grin at Lincoln hopefully. “You would help me hide from my moms to skip out on this right?”
“No can do, babe. Your moms would have my head, and then you’d have to go on our trip all by yourself.” He squeezes Emmet’s hand and pushes the porch swing back to start them in motion.
“Coming for me with logic? How dare you, that’s my move.” Emmet grins back and brings their clasped hands into his lap so he can grasp Lincoln’s with both of his own. He looks out at the yard again and takes a deep breath. “You’re coming to this thing too, right? You won’t abandon me to my moms and all their NASA friends who are going to want to ask me hundreds of questions about what I’m doing next and why I’m taking a year off? You love me too much to leave me to that, right?”
“Of course I wouldn’t leave you to the vultures, Emmet. You know I couldn’t dream of it.” Lincoln looks out at the yard in all its half-decorated glory. “It’s going to be fine, babe. We have a plan. We have a back up plan. I think we may actually have 3 back up plans-” Lincoln cuts himself off with a laugh.
“Planner, remember?” Emmet finds himself chuckling along.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Lincoln leans in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Do we need to do anything else out here?”
“What don’t we still need to do?” He gestures wildly at the yard. “We’re not going to have much time tomorrow since graduation starts pretty early and I have to be there even earlier because clearly the whole class is going to forget how to stand in alphabetical order in the 18 hours between our last rehearsal and the actual event.” He pauses when he realizes he’s gone off on a tangent and smiles down at the hand he’s still holding in his lap. “Sorry, yeah. Chairs, tables, finishing the firepit. Maybe burn the banner in the fire pit when we’re done, you know, just to make sure it works.” He looks over at the snort of laughter that escapes Lincoln. “I haven’t looked at it yet, but I’m sure it’s awful and embarrassing. I don’t know about you, but I’ve met my mothers and there is no way it isn’t terrible.”
Lincoln’s laughter is visible in the brightness of his eyes and the pull of his cheeks. “We can work on the tables and chairs, but I’m afraid I’ll have to draw the line at arson. I prefer that your moms continue not hating me, thank you very much.” He presses his feet to the floor to stop the motion of the swing and stands, pulling Emmet along behind him by the hand.
“Let’s get this done so you can get some rest tonight, ok?” He releases his grip on Emmet’s hand and reaches for the top chair on one of the stacks.
“Fine. I still might chuck the banner when no one is looking though. I make no promises.” Emmet reaches for the top chair from another stack and they work quietly to unstack the chairs and arrange them, along with the tables, across the yard. They make quick work of the remaining tasks and complete the firepit setup for the next day within the hour.
Lincoln surveys the yard, looking for any remaining tasks, and his eyes catch on the telescope set up in the corner. He makes his way over to it to see what his boyfriend has lined up for him this evening. Lowering his head to the eyepiece, he’s greeted with the bright sight of the moon. He admires it for a moment before he straightens back up. He looks over to see Emmet has gone back to the porch swing and is watching him quietly.
Emmet loves watching Lincoln look through the telescope - he’s delicate with his movement to make sure he doesn’t move anything that would cause Emmet to need to re-adjust any of the many knobs. He watches Lincoln raise his head and look around for him. He lets Lincoln catch him staring, and smiles as he makes his way back to the porch.
“Anything else we need to do? It’s getting late.” Lincoln stops in front of Emmet and reaches for his hands, pulling him off the swing and into a tight hug.
“No, I think we’re all set. Thank you for helping, I really needed some quiet time with you this evening. Tomorrow is going to be so exhausting.” Emmet gives one last long squeeze before he pulls back and tilts his head up for a kiss which Lincoln is happy to share with him.
“I’m always happy when I can help you. And you know I’ll save you tomorrow, as often as you need. I’m not planning to let you out of my sight, alright?” Lincoln presses their foreheads together for a moment and takes a deep breath. “You’ve worked really hard, babe. You deserve to be celebrated. Your moms are proud of you, I’m so proud of you, and I love you, Emmet. We’re going to get through tomorrow together, and then we’re going to have a great summer before we go on our trip this fall. You can do this, and I’ll be here to tell you that as much as you need it.” He drops another short, sweet kiss on Emmet’s lips. “Good?”
Emmet’s laugh is a little wet and his eyes are shiny when he answers, “Yeah, Lincoln. Good. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so glad for whatever it was. I can do anything when you’re by my side, you know that?” He reaches up to wipe his eyes clear. “Ok. Go home and get some rest, love. We’ve got a long day tomorrow, and you need to be well rested if you’re going to help me through it.” Lincoln nods and smiles as he steps back.
“Get some sleep, Emmet. I’ll see you first thing in the morning, ok?” Emmet nods before Lincoln steps back and heads for the gate to the front yard. He pauses when he reaches it and turns back for a last look, then waves his hand as if shooing Emmet into the house. “Sweet dreams, Emmet, now go to bed!” Emmet lets out a laugh and gives a quick, “Goodnight, Lincoln!” He turns to go inside with a smile on his face as Lincoln finally passes through the gate and disappears into the night. Emmet turns off the porchlight and locks the door before heading to his room to get some much-needed sleep.
6/21/2030
Emmet wakes slowly to a faint tickle on his shoulder and twitches against it. The pressure increases and the warmth starts to break through his sleep-addled brain.
Lincoln. That’s Lincoln’s hand on his shoulder. Lincoln was tracing patterns on his skin while he slept.
Oh.
Lincoln might not be tracing patterns; he might be tracing words. Suddenly, Emmet can feel his pulse in his throat, and he finds himself wide awake.
“Lincoln?” His voice is quiet and rough from sleep. Lincoln’s fingers pause and his hand settles, palm warm against his skin.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Lincoln’s voice is quiet in the early morning light. Emmet turns his head slowly, scared to look but terrified of not knowing. His eyes come to a stop on the hand on his shoulder, but Lincoln doesn’t move it. Looking up at Lincoln's face with curiosity written clearly on his own. He watches Lincoln’s eyes first fall to his hand, where it sits covering Emmet’s shoulder, then slowly returns to meet Emmet’s gaze. Lincoln clears his throat before speaking softly, slowly finding his words.
“I don’t know if you chose to read my letter.” Lincoln pauses to clear his throat, then continues with a hint of a smile at the edge of his lips. “These words weren’t in it, but I do know, without a doubt, that they’re mine.” Lincoln finally lifts his hand and stares at the words in front of him. “I hoped that you would have some of my...nicer thoughts. These…” Lincoln stops and swallows with a gulp. “I didn’t want it to be that moment, but in retrospect, I see how it really couldn’t have been anything else.”
Lincoln sounds almost… resigned to the reality of these words. Emmet blinks and tries to look at the words again, his curiosity warring with concern. He doesn’t really care what it says exactly - knowing they’re Lincoln’s is such a relief - but Lincoln’s response to it has definitely piqued his interest. His neck twinges at the angle he’s pushing it into, but he can only barely see the top of the text. His gaze moves back up to Lincoln’s face and finds a small smug grin there.
“What does it say, Lincoln?” Emmet’s voice is soft with affection and genuine curiosity. He wants to know what has caused this response in Lincoln. He watches Lincoln’s gaze flick back to his shoulder and then away from him entirely as he takes a shaky breath and squeezes his eyes closed, like he can’t bear to watch Emmet hear what he has to say. Emmet shifts quickly, turning in Lincoln’s grasp to lay on his now word-covered shoulder and brings a hand up to Lincoln’s face. He brushes a thumb over the top of Lincoln’s cheek and darts forward to press a soft kiss to his lips before pressing their foreheads together lightly.
“Lincoln. I’ll love you no matter what. Will you please tell me what it says before I hurt my neck trying to see it myself?”
Lincoln lets out a shaky breath and finally speaks quietly.
“It says Oh, fuck me.”
He’s squeezed his eyes tightly shut again and Emmet has to stop himself from letting out a startled chuckle. That’s just so Lincoln, he thinks, but it’s clearly bringing Lincoln some intense distress, and Emmet doesn’t want him to think he’s taking that anything less than completely seriously.
“Babe?” He’s struggling not to let his amusement color his voice. “Please look at me?”
He watches Lincoln take a deep breath and then relax his face as he lets it out, his eyes blinking slowly open.
“First things first, I love you.” Emmet’s words bring another degree of calm to Lincoln’s face, the tightness around his eyes smoothing over slightly. Emmet darts forward to place another kiss on Lincoln’s lips. “Secondly? I love it. These words are more you than anything you wrote in my letter and I wouldn’t have them any other way, ok?” He lets out a small snicker as Lincoln pulls his face back with an affronted look.
“What do you mean ‘more me’?”
“Lincoln. Babe. Love of my entire life. My soulmate.” He reaches down for Lincoln’s hand with his own, interlacing their fingers and bringing them to his mouth to lay a kiss on Lincoln’s knuckles. “You are my favorite person in the whole world, but we both know that you are not flowery in the face of change. You are courageous and you are strong, but you are also scared and often a little skittish. Realizing you’re in love? That’s so big. It’s so much.”
He pauses here and locks eyes with Lincoln before continuing.
“I love how eloquent you can be when you write music for me, and I love knowing how hard you work on making those things beautiful. These words? They were your instantaneous response… and I don’t really get that a lot anymore. You think before you speak a lot more now than you used to, and this mark is my forever reminder of how hard you work, of how much effort you are always putting in. Every single time you say something beautiful to me, I know that you started off with this kind of pure emotion and then you worked so unbelievably hard to turn it into the amazing words that you give to me like a gift. I love that, Lincoln. It’s beautiful.”
Lincoln’s eyes are wide, his pupils blown out and glassy. His voice is rough when he speaks.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” Emmet blinks, his own eyes are more than a little damp.
“Make me feel like this? Take something I was so worried about and make it into something beautiful? Be the most amazing human being I’ve ever known? Take your pick. I love you so much, Emmet.”
“You make it easy.” Emmet kisses his knuckles again before releasing his hand to wipe the dampness away from Lincoln’s cheeks. “You bring out the best in me every day, and I only ever want to do the same for you.”
Lincoln’s hand comes up to join Emmet’s and together they wipe the rest of the tears from his face. They both close their eyes for a moment, their breathing slow and steady in the quiet morning air.
“Hey Lincoln?” Emmet’s voice is bright and Lincoln opens his eyes again.
“Yeah?” Lincoln’s response is light and his curiosity is clearly piqued.
“You're my soulmate, no doubt about it.” The grin splits Emmet’s face and a laugh works its way up his throat. He’s not sure he’s ever felt so relieved in his life. He was pretty sure before, but there had always been that little nagging voice in the back of his head of what if. Now he has the best defense against that voice and nobody can take that away from him. Lincoln is his and - as long as they work together - he gets to keep him forever.
He’s not sure he’s ever felt happier.
7/31/2030
Emmet climbs the stairs to Lincoln’s room with the road trip binder clutched tightly to his chest. They’re leaving in just a few days, and he wants to go over the packing list with Lincoln one more time and make sure he hasn’t changed his mind about any of their destinations at the last minute.
There are 15 contingency plan options at the back of the binder - each one marked with a special orange tab - specifically for this reason.
They still have time to make some changes and reviewing it all together makes Emmet especially happy. He loves seeing the parts where Lincoln has clearly helped plan the trip; Emmet wanted to make sure it would be their trip, not just his own. He may be the ‘planner’ in their relationship, but Lincoln is no slouch when he has the proper motivation, and it turns out that a month-long road trip alone with his favorite person is excellent motivation.
He pauses in the doorway, leaning against the frame, to take in the chaos of Lincoln’s room. There is low music coming from the speaker on his desk; Lincoln’s largest duffel bag is sitting on the bed, clothing spilling carelessly over the side. Various toiletries lay nearby, clearly never even having made it in in the first place, and a veritable mountain of shoes sits on the floor. It’s exactly what Emmet expected to find.
Lincoln is kneeling in front of his closet, his head and upper torso submerged in its depths; he must be searching for something specific and Emmet is curious to find out what exactly it is he’s seeking so voraciously.
Lincoln slowly retreats from the inside of his closet, clutching a heavy looking pair of hiking boots, and Emmet lets out a short giggle as he steps further into the room, shoulders shaking lightly.
“I see you’re making excellent progress on your packing, dear.” Emmet reaches the desk and sets his binder down on the most level space he can find before crossing to Lincoln, who is blushing lightly and getting to his feet, boots still clutched in his hands. Lincoln reaches to hug him hello and is momentarily startled to find his hands still full. He tosses the boots at the pile of shoes where they land with a heavy thud. With his hands now empty, he reaches for Emmet’s hips to pull him close. He leans down to press his forehead lightly to Emmet’s before he speaks quietly, “Packing is going absolutely swimmingly, I don’t know what you could possibly mean with that tone.” He grins, then pushes forward to press his lips to Emmet’s for a moment. Emmet’s arms come up to Lincoln’s shoulders automatically as he takes a moment to enjoy the feeling of his boyfriend’s lips against his own. Lincoln pulls back after a moment and brushes their noses together before dropping another quick kiss on Emmet’s forehead and then looking around his room. The smile on his face morphs slowly into a grimace as he takes in the room with new eyes. He clearly hadn’t realized just how much of a mess he’s created until now.
“Ok, so...maybe swimmingly is a slight exaggeration.” He releases Emmet and moves around the room, tidying a few things as he goes, and finally returns with a piece of paper in his hand. “I still have my list, though! And I’ve gathered almost all the things on it, even if they aren’t actually in the bag yet. I think I’m much further along than you might guess... With a little bit of folding, you’ll be pleasantly surprised by my actual progress.” He holds out the checklist that Emmet had given him the week before and Emmet smiles as he takes it and looks down to see messy little multicolored checkmarks next to the majority of the items on the list.
“This is pretty good progress, babe.” He looks up at Lincoln again before he continues with a teasing tone, “But does the mark indicate you own it, you’ve managed to find it, or that you’ve actually packed it into your bag?” He raises an eyebrow and then gives the messy duffel a pointed look.
Lincoln looks over at his duffel again before he speaks, “It means that it’s definitely in this room...somewhere.” Emmet is sure the fondness he feels is written on his face clear as day.
“Well, I guess we have to start somewhere and that’s as good as any. Do you want to round up the last few things while I empty your bag onto the bed so we can make sure everything on the list definitely goes into the bag?”
“That sounds perfect, thanks babe.” Lincoln holds a hand out for his unfinished list and Emmet moves to the duffel bag. He clears a spot next to it and brings his sock-clad feet up to sit cross legged on the bed. He begins methodically removing all of the clothing and folding it into neat piles by type so that when they go to put it all into the bag again it should go smoothly. Lincoln putters around the room opening drawers and rifling through his closet a few more times. He disappears down the hall once or twice and Emmet finds himself draped in fabric several times as Lincoln tosses more clothing in the bag’s general direction.
Emmet finally gets all of the clothing organized into piles and turns his attention to the rest of the items on the bed. Lincoln is off searching for one of the last items elsewhere in the house so Emmet starts in on the rest of the items, hoping to finish up before he returns. There are several notebooks and writing implements, as well as Lincoln’s tablet and several tangled pairs of headphones.
The new soft guitar case Lincoln had gotten for his acoustic is draped across the bed and Emmet feels the corners of his lips turn up at the thought of Lincoln insisting that there be room in the hatchback for his guitar. Emmet had always planned for it, or course, but ribbing him about the amount of space it would take up had been fun. The new soft case has a pocket for Lincoln’s music notebook and Emmet moves to stow the correct notebook there. He pauses mid-motion as he spots the edge of something already sticking out of the case. He grabs the visible edge and slides it out a little to get a better look. The envelope is creased in the middle and the ink is worn; he recognizes his own handwriting on the front before he finally realizes what it is. His letter to Lincoln, written nearly six months prior, containing his thoughts from the moment he truly began to fall in love with Lincoln. It contains the words that he thinks will finally appear on Lincoln’s skin in just a few short days.
He runs his finger across Lincoln’s name, there in his own handwriting, and feels a slight prickling behind his eyes. Lincoln has clearly read his letter many times and if it’s already stowed away in his new guitar case, then it is a priority for him to always keep it close at hand. Emmet is desperately hopeful that the words he wrote in this letter are correct. He wants to see his words on Lincoln’s skin and put his anxiety about this to rest for the last time. It’s only a few more days, but it still feels like an eternity. He slides the envelope back into the guitar case pocket and then carefully tucks the notebook in after it, making sure it slides in next to the envelope, not crushing it into the bottom. He blinks away the mistiness in his eyes and takes a deep breath to compose himself before Lincoln returns to the room. He starts to untangle the headphone cables to keep himself busy until Lincoln returns.
He’s gotten them all separated by the time Lincoln finally comes back into the room with his arms full. He drops the items to the floor with a grunt and pulls the list back out of his pocket to consult it against his haul.
“That’s everything, babe. I have no idea how it’s going to fit in my bag though.”
Emmet huffs out a breath. “It doesn’t all have to fit in your duffel, it just all has to fit into the car. I’m not packing our tent in my duffel, you know.” Emmet grabs a pen from the bed beside him before continuing, “Do you want to pack your bag or check things off?”
Lincoln holds out the list, “I’ll pack, you manage the list.” He looks at the neat piles of clothing that cover the bed and Emmet smirking up at him. “Thanks, Emmet. You’re making this so much easier, and I really appreciate it.” He drops a kiss on Emmet’s cheek and steps back, “Ok, what’s first, love?”
With Emmet running point, list at the ready, and the items all neatly sorted out, they make quick work of packing all the needed items into his bag. They zip the bag closed and pile it and the sleeping bag next to the door, fully ready to get carried to the car on Saturday. Emmet goes back to his binder, still on the desk where he left it earlier, and pulls another list from the front pocket.
“Here’s your Sunday morning checklist to make sure that we don’t forget any of the last second items. Toothbrushes and chargers, you know?” Lincoln grins at him and Emmet feels his cheeks warm slightly.
“I love you, Emmet.”
Emmet feels warmth spread through him as he responds, “I love you too, Lincoln. Do you want to go over the trip one more time tonight before I go home?”
Lincoln nods and climbs onto his bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. He pats the spot next to him gently and Emmet joins him with the binder. He lets Lincoln put his arm around Emmet’s shoulders and then snuggles in, opening the binder to the first section.
He’s excited to go through it one last time before they leave, and this is their last chance. He’s taking the car for last minute maintenance checks the next day and Friday will be full of party prep and then the actual party. Saturday they have to clean up and pack the car so that they’ll be ready to drive away first thing Sunday morning. This may be their last true quiet moment together until they leave, and he needs to soak in Lincoln’s presence as much as possible to make it to that time. He lets his head rest against Lincoln’s chest as they flip through the pages quietly. Sooner than Emmet would like, they reach the end.
“I think we’re ready, Emmet.” Emmet feels Lincoln press a kiss to his hair.
“Yeah, Lincoln. I think we’re ready for anything.” Lincoln’s arm squeezes his shoulders and Emmet breathes deeply to savor the quiet moment, locking it into his memory to use as a focus through the next few activity-filled days. This calm moment is exactly what he needed and he lets himself soak it in.
“Yeah, Emmet. Together we are ready for anything.” Lincoln’s tone is soft and Emmet grins. He’ll need to head home shortly, but for just a few more minutes, there’s no reason he can’t lay here and enjoy being in the calm presence of his favorite person in the world.
8/2/2030
Lincoln flips the lightswitch as he enters the bathroom, wincing at the sudden, bright light. He leans back against the door once it’s closed and locked; he just needs a minute to collect himself. The evening has been so busy thus far, one person after the next vying for his attention. Emmet can only fend off so many of the well wishers for him, and the party’s guest list was extensive.
Their parents had all gone in together to throw an End of Summer/Lincoln’s 18th Birthday/Road Trip Sendoff Barbecue and Lincoln is exhausted. He’s pretty sure at least half the employees from the space center are in the Yorks’ back yard. He knows they all mean well, the table full of cards and gifts is really nice, but he’s so glad that the evening is almost over.
He and Emmet are leaving town in 36 hours, and the feeling of anticipation has him ready to vibrate out of his skin.
He feels something click in his head, and his next breath is deeper. His shoulders relax just a fraction and he feels some of the tense energy in his limbs dissipate. The leadup to the road trip has been hectic, even with Emmet’s intense planning abilities paving the way. There were so many details to work out for a trip this length, and his parents kept coming up with new questions every time he thought it was settled. Together, he and Lincoln had managed to answer every question and clear every obstacle. Their efforts are going to pay off in just one more day; they have a plan to follow.
Lincoln is counting down the hours until he gets to drive away with Emmet.
He pushes off the door and reaches for the faucet, turning on the cold water. He cups his hands under it and lets the cool liquid stream over them for a moment. The heat outside is blistering, even though it’s well after the sun has gone down, and the temperature difference from outside is a welcome reprieve. He lowers his face and splashes some of the cool water up onto himself. He repeats the action several times, enjoying the feeling of the cool water on his overheated skin.
Realizing that he’s probably hidden for long enough that someone will start looking for him soon, Lincoln reaches for the hand towel, ready to dry himself off and rejoin the party. He pauses with his hand on the towel as he catches sight of himself in the mirror. Specifically, he catches sight of a dark smudge, barely visible under the damp fabric over his collarbone. He blinks slowly and let’s go of the towel, bringing his hands up to the neck of his shirt. He’s been waiting all day, to the point that he’d started to think his soulmark was going to come in somewhere he wouldn’t be able to see it. His heart is suddenly racing as he slowly pulls the edge of his collar down to bare the skin underneath.
Lincoln’s vision goes blurry as he takes in the two simple words now etched across his collarbone. He trails his fingers along the edge of the letters as a tear escapes his eye and starts to slide down his cheek. They’re everything he’s been hoping they would be.
Look Up
That night in the tunnel had changed his life in so many ways. If you had asked Lincoln about it a few years earlier, he might have classified it as one of the worst nights he could ever remember having. Now, he can’t imagine what his life would be like if it had gone any other way. Sure, he has some regrets about how long it took to get where he and Emmet are now, but they wouldn’t be them without that night and Lincoln is going to be grateful for it for a long time. He can hear Emmet’s voice in his head, reading out the words from his letter. The letter that Lincoln has read so many times he has it memorized.
The moment I knew I was falling in love with you was scary, Lincoln. You were going through so much, and I wanted to help but I had no idea how. I wanted to be there for you in any way I could, but in the moment, I froze. I was so mad at myself. I just kept thinking Look Up, Emmet. Look Up! Show him that you’re here for him! I let my fears stop me that day and I’m still so sorry that I did. I think that’s what your words will be. I hope that is what your words will be. I hope that I get to see those words on your skin and have them be my reminder every day to look up at you, no matter how scared I am, or how sad you might be. Every day is better when we get to spend them together, and I want to do that forever. Love, Emmet
Lincoln lets go of the neckline of his shirt, wincing slightly as it remains slightly misshapen. He reaches for the towel again and this time manages to successfully dry both his hands and his face. He looks in the mirror again and he thinks there is a new glow to his skin. The shadow under his shirt isn’t likely to be visible in the poorly lit backyard and he smiles. He hopes the rest of the party finishes winding down soon, because he can’t wait to share his news with Emmet. He’s not going to be able to keep the smile off his face now that he knows his mark is visible and it’s exactly the words he was expecting.
Lincoln exits the bathroom and re-enters the backyard feeling much lighter than when he left. He immediately catches sight of Emmet on the far side of the yard, his light colored polo a beacon in the dim lighting. There seem to be fewer people now than there were when he went inside; Lincoln does his best to contain his glee at the prospect of the party finally coming to an end. He heads for the drink table on the other side of the yard for a fresh drink and snags another cookie off the dessert table on his way past.
He spends the next half hour mingling with various space center people whom he’s met several times over the last couple of years. When he spots Emmet’s moms starting to take some of the food plates into the kitchen, he breaks away to lend a hand. Nothing signals the end of a barbecue quite like putting the food away, and Lincoln’s hoping this will push some of the lingering partygoers towards the exit.
Each time he reenters the backyard to grab another plate, the number of people in the yard has decreased. Emmet comes over and begins to ferry food into the house as well, the party finally moving into cleanup and closing down territory. Lincoln very deliberately does not shout his joy to the rooftops when the last of the guests finally make their way out of the backyard. Emmet emerges from the house and makes a beeline straight for him.
“Come on, you mom gave me her keys. She said we should put all your gifts in the back so you can open them at home tomorrow.” Lincoln gives the yard a onceover to make sure they’re the only ones remaining and then reaches for Emmet’s hand and pulls him closer.
“But I already got the best present, Emmet.” He’s positively beaming and Emmet laughs, “Oh yeah? I haven’t even given you your present yet, so how do you know you’ve got the best one already?” Emmet’s expression is a combination of smug and curious, and Lincoln can’t stop himself from leaning down to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s mouth before he shares his discovery.
“I know I got the best present, because my soulmark came in.” He watches Emmet’s eyes first widen and then start frantically wandering over all of Lincoln's visible skin. He reaches up for the neckline of his shirt, Emmet’s eyes locking onto his motion, and pulls it to the side to reveal his new favorite patch of skin.
“Lincoln.” Emmet’s voice is breathy and his eyes are glassy when he looks up. “Lincoln, they’re perfect.” He reaches up to run his fingers along the letters. Lincoln can feel the tears in his eyes when Emmet finally looks up at his face again.
“Like I said, I already got the best present. I got you.”
“You know I love it when you’re cheesy, but how am I supposed to top that next year?” Emmet huffs out a laugh and reaches up to wipe the tears off of his cheeks and then does the same for Lincoln. “I love you so much, Lincoln. I’m keeping you forever.”
“I love you too, Emmet. I’m just so absolutely in love with you;I can’t wait to spend forever together.” Emmet shuffles forward and presses his head where Lincoln’s soulmark now resides, wrapping his arms tightly around Lincoln. Lincoln’s arms come up around Emmet and he presses a hand tightly to the spot on the back of Emmet’s shoulder where his soulmark sits beneath the fabric. He presses his nose into Emmet’s hair and just lets himself breathe.
Soon enough, they’ll have to pull apart and continue with the party cleanup. They have a whole day of final checks, cleanup, and errands to get through before they finally get to leave town, but for now, they take a few minutes to enjoy being wrapped up in each other, finally secure in the knowledge that the universe is with them on this.
This is something they get to have, and that’s enough.