Work Text:
Diego woke up in the wrong bed, in the wrong body, at the wrong time, to the wrong alarm sound. The phone was on the wrong side of the bed, and fit in his hand weirdly, and when he managed to turn the incessant buzzing off, he stared at the unfamiliar, cracked screen with a sinking feeling.
It was half an hour later than he ever would have been allowed to sleep- even in the summer, even though he'd officially graduated months ago- and he knew immediately that everything was going to be awful today.
Swapping with your soulmate was rare. One in twenty people had a soulmate, one in forty soul pairs were swappers. Of course, Diego was unlucky enough for that.
He wondered what his soulmate was getting up to back home- he wondered if his family had scared them away yet, or if they'd all plaster on those sickening smiles, making themselves seem like the perfect family.
Worse, he thought, they could have told his soulmate the truth. Diego was not a good person, and an even worse son, and they should run away before he sunk his teeth in and ruined things for both of them.
The room wasn't super indicative of what the other person was like, pretty empty and neat, a single poster for some band called "The Reptile House" and a busted old television sitting on a stand that was covered in paint being the only things that stood out much.
When Diego looked down at his body, though, he abruptly came to terms with a few things.
First: His soulmate was ripped. Not just "kind of muscular" or "fat with some bulk underneath," no, he was built like a movie star or a bodybuilder or something. He was wearing a tight muscle shirt and basketball shorts that accentuated every unnecessary bulge and curve.
Second: He had a single tattoo of a small, round, bird on one wrist. Diego didn't know why, or what this could possibly mean.
There was a knock at his door and he quickly sat up, trying to come up with a game plan, before things got the chance to get bad. Unfortunately, he had less time than he thought. The door slammed open with hardly any warning, and he winced, curling his knees up to his chest, like that was going to help anything.
The man standing on the other side only looked mid twenties- not a father, then- and was bulky too. He had thick, curly dark hair and a mischievous grin that faded rapidly as he looked at Diego.
"Yo, Quint? What's… what's wrong with you?" He said, abruptly concerned.
"I-" Diego started, paused at the sound of his soulmate's impossibly deep, impossibly soft voice, and then tried again. "Bad dream. I'll be fine."
The man didn't leave him alone, and he didn't scoff or mock him or anything he expected, he just leaned against the doorway, squinting at him. "Bad dream? Like, about grandpa?"
"It's… yeah something like that."
The man sighed, nodded. "Sorry Quint. Um. I was gonna head out to the mall? You can come with…?"
"I'm good," Diego said. "Have fun."
To Diego's surprise, the man looked surprised. "You- dude did the dream fuck with you that bad? It's the mall. You love the mall."
"Uh," Diego said, trying to look like he wasn't panicking. "I mean-"
"What's my name?" The man said, abruptly. "Right now, tell me, what's my name?"
The room was dead silent, suffocatingly so. Diego didn't know why he couldn't just admit he was someone else, but he couldn't. Not that it mattered, the man had clearly figured it out.
"What's your name?" The man said, finally.
"Diego," Diego said, weakly. "Um, Diego Costello."
The man smiled, kind of sadly, and stepped forward to reach out his hand. "Tennessee Dealey. Quint calls me Tenny."
"Quint… I'm guessing that's short for Quintin?" Diego shook his hand, once.
"Yeah. Everyone else on earth called him QBD- his initials- but I'm his older brother, it's my god given right to call him some stupid bullshit."
"Amen," Diego snorted. "Where, uh… where do you guys live?"
"Louisiana," Tennessee leaned on the foot of the bed. "You?"
"West Virginia."
"Oh, that's not too far away."
"Yeah, and I like driving anyways, so," Diego didn't say he would take any excuse to get out of this town. "Um. Does everyone know about…?"
"'Bout what?"
"Quentin… being… you know."
"Gay?" Tennessee snorted. "Not everyone, but our family knows, yeah. His friends, too. Everyone who matters."
Diego nodded, picking at the quilt. "Your parents… they here?"
"Um," Tennessee glanced behind him, out the door, down the hall. "I think our dad left, but our mom should still be home… probably? Think she was making some breakfast."
Diego hummed, trying to formulate a thought that made sense.
"You gotta have a lot of questions, man," Tennessee said, sympathetically. "You can ask anything you need to, I swear."
Diego hunched in on himself. He felt so big, so weird and mountainous. Poor Quentin. "Why's he so… buff?"
Tennessee laughed at that. "That's my fault. When he was in middle school I used to take him to the gym to burn off steam. He never stopped, I guess. He gains muscle easy, especially with his diet- he went two years where he could only eat hot dogs and mac 'n cheese."
"Why?" Diego's mind flashed to his own high school career of desperately trying to lose weight.
"He's autistic," Tennessee said, easily. "Got ADHD too."
"Huh," Diego said, kind of surprised. "I've got ADHD."
"Aw, you guys really are soulmates."
Diego snorted. He felt a little better, now. He wrapped his arms around his knees, looking up at Tennessee, who looked back.
"Louisiana, huh?" He said, quietly, already plotting a road trip. "Any shot you know of any available apartments around here?"
Tennessee's eyebrows shot up, and Diego's heart plunged. "I mean… well, how quick are you tryin' to get here?"
"Soon as possible?" Diego said, kind of weakly.
"It's Louisiana, man," Tennessee said, baffled. "Being gay here isn't exactly easy, and don't you have people up there you'd miss? It's not like Quint can't move up to meet you-"
"I can't live there anymore," Diego whispered, his eyes sliding from Tennessee to the quilt. "You don't get it man, I… I have to get out."
Tennessee didn't say anything for a long time, and Diego just stared at the bed, like the green and red of the quilt was going to change to anything else.
"We've got a guest room," Tennessee said, softly. "I don't think anyone would stop you if you decided to move in- I don't think they'd make you pay rent or nothing, mom's always wanted a son-in-law to spoil."
"I can't-"
Tennessee stepped forward, and Diego flinched, hard enough that his back hit the headboard. Tennessee stopped.
"Can you look at me? Diego?"
Diego forced his eyes to meet Tennessee's. His expression was hard to read, but Diego's brain screamed 'danger.'
"I don't want to inconvenience anyone." He said, desperately. "I can- oh God, I don't even know if Quintin would like me- why would he-?"
"Diego," Tennessee said, hoarsely, urgently. "You don't have to stay here, okay? You don't. I won't make you. But… our doors are open, yeah?"
Diego squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry."
"You haven't done nothing wrong. And," Tennessee huffed out through his nose, amused. "I think Quint's gonna love you."
"Yeah?" Diego peeked open one eye. "What… what makes you say that?"
"He's always liked sweethearts." Tennessee leaned forward and ruffled Diego's hair.
Diego blinked, surprised. "I'm normally the bad boy."
"Well, from what I've seen, you're an angel."
Diego huffed. He felt a lot better all of a sudden. "Shit. Well… I should probably save my number in his phone so he can at least text me… right?"
"Right."
He reached for the phone, fumbling for a second, before managing to unlock it (thank everything for fingerprint recognition) and finding the contacts app. Quintin's phone was organized like a madman, with apps spaced out weirdly over the home screen. He put in his phone number, paused, and then sent a text. Just to be sure.
Quintin, right?
He regretted it immediately, but before he could attempt damage control, the typing bubble popped up. He took a deep breath, trying to ease his heartbeat until-
QBD woke up in the wrong bed, in the wrong body, and he didn't notice for an embarrassingly long time.
The walls were covered in posters and pockmarked with holes, and the sheets were a dark red instead of pale green, and the ceiling fan was dangling scarily from the ceiling, but the first thing he noticed when he woke up was this he was wearing jeans.
He then promptly noticed everything else wrong with the picture- the cheap mattress sitting on the floor, the clothes strewn across the carpet, the small pile of dishes sitting on the cardboard box across the room. It was a mess.
He sat up, groggily, irritated.
He'd switched with his soulmate- he must have, that's the only possible explanation for why he felt so small and soft in this absolute hell scape of a room.
He had to go find someone to verify with. Someone to talk to.
He stumbled out of bed, taking a quick detour to the nearest pile of laundry on the floor, pulling out some random graphic tee and tugging it on.
There was a mirror on the door, and he paused, before stepping into frame.
His soulmate stared at him, big brown eyes and a mane of curly brown hair. He was round, all soft edges and gentle curves, and long lashes.
He was so pretty.
Downstairs, QBD could hear someone talking- a woman with a sharp voice.
He stepped outside of the room, trailed down the hall, and-
"Diego," A woman, who looked far too much like his soulmate to not be a sister, snapped. "You're late."
"Sorry," He said, his voice gravelly and strange. "Um-"
"What the fuck do you mean, sorry?" She scoffed. She was sitting at the kitchen island. This house was the nicest place he'd ever been in, probably. "What's wrong with you?"
"I'm…" He took a deep breath. "I'm actually not-"
He couldn't quite find the words, but he didn't need to apparently, as her eyes went wide, and her whole demeanor changed in a heartbeat.
"Oh, my gosh," She said, and then, smiling nicely. "I'm so sorry, I'm Madison, you must be Diego's soulmate, right?"
"Right," He said, feeling a little better. "I'm QBD. Like… yeah, like cubed."
She laughed, even though he wasn't trying to be funny. "Awesome. Your soulmate's name is Diego Costello, I'm his twin sister, Madison… you know, I didn't really expect him to have a soulmate, so this is… hm."
"Hm?" QBD leaned against the doorway, awkwardly. "What's, uh… hm?"
"Nothing," She smiled. "Any other questions?"
"I- I should meet your parents, right?"
"I don't think that's a good idea," She said, her smile not faltering. "How about you meet some of our friends first?"
"I don't-"
"Come on, it'll be fun! I'll let them know the situation, and you can meet them, easy peasy."
He took a deep breath, tucking his arms into his jean pockets. "Okay."
"Okay!"
She told him they were going to meet at her friend Dean's house, and he went upstairs to find his phone and some socks and shoes. Diego had a lot of clothes, and not many of them were definitely clean for sure.
His phone was tucked under a pillow, battery half dead, notifications from two days ago covering the screen.
As he stood that, looking at it, another notification popped up.
Unknown Number:
Quintin, right?
He hesitated for only a minute, before he figured out exactly what was happening. He unlocked the phone (it was the fancy kind with facial recognition) and quickly started typing a response.
He paused, deleted it, then retyped the exact thing word for word.
hi diego.
how's it going?
From the doorway, Madison cleared her throat, loudly. "Come on, we should get going."
Diego didn't respond, so QBD obediantly followed her out, down the stairs, to the garage.
"We'll take my car," She said. "Or- do you drive?"
"Not well."
"Then we'll take my car. No worries."
QBD climbed in the passenger seat, eyeing her from the corner of his eye. She was smirking a bit, and it scared him.
They went from the nicest neighborhood he'd ever seen, down through a more commercial area, and then into the woods.
He'd always lived in the city, he thought, wondering if Diego would hate Shreveport. He sure would if he was him.
The house sat in the middle of nowhere, a friendly little welcome sign and a handful of garden gnomes dotting the front yard.
As they walked up the front steps, his eyes caught on a little rainbow flag that hung from the front door step. Madison nodded towards the doorbell, and he rang it, but she immediately sighed.
"Oh my god, I left my phone in the car," She said, loudly, and turned. "I'll be right back, don't worry."
He felt his heart plunge as he heard footsteps come up to the door. A pause, then it swung open, and a woman beamed at him.
"Diego! Hey, oh my god, I didn't know you were coming!"
She was strange looking, with buzzed hair and no eyebrows, her face covered in what looked like pale purple facepaint with bright red blush and lipstick over it. She was wearing a baggy tee and a tutu and a pair of bright green leggings that were tucked into massive fuzzy socks.
"Um," He said. "Hi?"
"I told you to text me, dipshit," She shoved his shoulder playfully. "What's up?"
He glanced over his shoulder, to where Madison's car had vanished. "I- uh-"
"Diego?"
He looked back at the woman, and she was staring at him with wide eyes now. Startled, like a deer in the headlights.
"I'm sorry," He said, a little too urgently. "I think I-"
"Oh my god," She took a step back. "You're not Diego."
"I'm sorry," He said, again. "I don't-"
She looked at him, a mixture of disgust and intrigue, before she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed. "Did Madi tell you to come here?"
"She drove me, yeah, said she thought I should meet her friends."
"Dean's out," The woman said, strained. "She specifically wanted you to meet me- I guess she thought I'd scare you away or something… fuck."
"Well… it's working?" QBD said weakly.
She winced. "Sorry. I'm, uh… I'm Miki. I'm Diego's… ugh."
"His girlfriend?" QBD guessed, and she snorted.
"No, he's… he's not into me like that. I don't know, this is dumb."
"I'm QBD."
She looked at him, and smiled, thinly, tiredly. "Nice to meet you, QBD."
His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it quickly as she led him inside to sit on the couch.
Watch out for my parents, by the way.
Don't want you getting hurt.
He paused.
"Hey, Miki, is Diego's family…?"
"Cartoonishly evil?" She snorted. "Why yes!"
He exhaled shakily.
copy
met your friend mickey, she seems nice
A pause, then.
She's the best.
He smiled, looking up at where Miki was flipping through YouTube on the TV. Half the videos were nightcore remixes, the other half were horror movie deep dives.
"Hey, Miki," He said, and she tilted her head towards him. "Thanks for taking care of Diego."
Her eyes met his, and a moment of understanding passed between them, and she smiled.
"You want to watch a video about Spongebob Squarepants conspiracy theories?" She asked.
"Yeah, go for it." He settled back. He liked it here, he thought. He liked it a lot.