Hello my friends. this is my two-shot that I have been working on. (next part coming... soon!) so basically, it's Kam (Keefe x Tam) and it's a soulmate AU and a human AU... so many AU's to be found here. In this soulmate AU everyone is born with a clock on their wrists counting down the years, months, days, hours, minutes, seconds until they meet their soulmates. So here it is! Enjoy!

Age 0

His mother smiled as she held her squalling, infant son in her tired arms. She gently flipped over his hand to reveal his milky wrist. Numbers, made of ink, were appearing and re-writing themselves.

16:03:02:13:42:58… 16:03:02:13:42:55…

Age 4

"How much longer, mommy?"

He had been asking her this for ages, as most children his age did. She glared at him, and he flinched before she checked herself and neutralized her face. "Look on your wrist, Keefe," she said, laying a tight smile on her face. He pulled back his sleeve, the material rasping over his skin, and ran a tentative finger over his numbers, still counting down.

12:01:04:01:57:31… 12:01:04:01:57:26…

Age 12

Keefe sighed, resting his heavy head in the palm of his hand as he listened to his math teacher drone on and on. His sleeve had slipped down, and he could see the numbers on his wrist. Suddenly, his year mark shifted, and he smiled. Only four more until he could meet his soulmate.

04:12:31:24:59:47… 04:12:31:24:59:40…

Age 16

Keefe had gone to sleep with an anxious writhing, churning feeling deep in his gut, and woke up with it still present and accounted for. Today was the day. And assuming his clock wasn't wrong- he shuddered at the very thought- it would be sometime on his way to school. He pulled aside his covers, shivering at the cold air, and trotted over to his dresser, rifling through the drawers until he found his cleanest matching set of clothes. He sighed, pressing his still nerve-wracked stomach with his fist, and walked into the bathroom to start his shower.

Keefe flinched as the cold water his his bare skin, and then felt his muscles relax as it warmed up and warmth trickled over his skin. He carefully and methodically shampooed and conditioned his hair, rinsed it, and then shut the shower off, cracked open the door, and whipped his towel around himself all in one quick, practiced motion.

After standing in the still-warm shower for as long as he could spare, he got out reluctantly and dried himself off before slipping on his clothes. He had selected a white t-shirt with 'Is your name Google? Because you're everything I'm searching for.' printed across it. He thought it would be appropriate for the occasion. Paired with that were some black jeans- not skinny, but not baggy either. He had to look good, not like a slob- for today, at least. The rest of the time he was cool with looking like a total mess.

He blow-dried his hair carefully, and then lightly spiked it. He used to wear full on spikes almost everyday, but had fortunately broken free of that phase. Keefe examined himself in the mirror. Hair, clothes- teeth.

He swept a brush over his teeth as quickly as he could (with the minty, breath-freshening kind. You never knew what might happen.) and dashed downstairs like a shot. He scarfed down a bowl of cereal, and then cursed himself silently after having to run back upstairs to brush his teeth again. But finally- finally, after one of the longest mornings of his life, Keefe hitched up his backpack with his thumbs, and dashed out the door into the chill November air.

The morning light hurt his eyes, and he had to blink a few times before his surroundings sharpened. Keefe squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, squeezed his hands into fists, and walked away down the street to his bus stop.

There was already someone there in the glass enclosure, a boy Keefe had never seen before. He was about his age, with ragged black hair dyed silver at the tips, and piercing silver eyes.

Keefe was about to sit down when he felt a sharp pain in his wrist. As he frantically rolled up his sleeve to check on his watch, he noticed the boy had also flinched and doing the same thing. Keefe paused in his frantic search for his numbers, and looked at the boy who had peeled off his black leather gloves and was also looking for his clock.

As he stared, the boy looked up and locked eyes with him. Almost simultaneously, as if they had practiced for ages, they slowly rolled back their sleeves and looked down. Keefe's clock read 00:00:00:00:00:00, and he stared at it for a moment before feeling another, more throbbing pain as it disappeared slowly, as if being washed away by water from the inside.

He looked up at the boy in the bus stop. He was staring at him with those sharp silver eyes.

"Um. Was that… I'm…. Cleek smo?" Keefe slapped a hand over his mouth. He was such an idiot. He had meant to say 'I'm Keefe,' or maybe 'Did your clock run out too?'

He cursed himself as the boy squinted at his with his gorgeous eyes and said "What?"

"I… um, did your clock just run out?" Keefe said. The boy nodded. "You?" Keefe felt a lurch in his stomach. So his soulmate was a boy. He had thought he might have been gay for a while… or bi. Girls were still very attractive.

He nodded. The boy blew out a long breath, shaking his head before shrugging. "Well. I'm Tam. Tam Song."

"I'm Keefe Sencen. I like your hair?" he mentally slapped himself in the face. Again.

"Oh… yours is… nice." Tam smirked slightly.

"What?" Keefe patted it gently. Everything seemed to be in order. Maybe he had imagined the smirk.

"Nothing." Tam smirked again- this time for sure. Keefe felt a bolt of annoyance. They were in the same position here. Who in their right mind would start off something that had the potential to be lifelong love with a mean remark? Well, in any case, two could play at the game.

"You want to talk hair, Bangs Boy? What did you do to yours, dip it in your father's tears when you were born and he saw how ugly you were?"

Instead of responding just as scathingly or looking hurt, Tam smiled, a real one. "That was good, Mophead. I think I'm going to like you. There's a little coffee shop down the road, wanna grab a drink?"

Keefe nodded, bemused, and with thousands of possibilities flooding his mind, they walked away through the drizzling rain, hands not touching, but close. Very, very close.

HEHEHEHEHEH YAS KAM YAS KAM OTP OTP OTP OTP okay y'alls next part coming... soon. soon.

xoxo,

Cress