Raphael rolled his shoulders a couple of times, shaking his hands quickly as he did so. Then he checked that the sleeve of his white shirt was pulled down to cover his left wrist, and knocked on the light wooden door of the cheep suburban house.

"Raphael," The way his name rolled of his mother's tongue always reminded Raphael of home. - Not his home in America, but the home he barely remembered back in Mexico. The one he'd left abruptly when he was six years old, and his mother had stuffed him and his younger brothers into their car and taken of without explanation. "You're late." She reached up to fold a hand around his chin standing on tip-toes to press a kiss against his cheek.

Guadalupe Santiago, a short and stout lady with greying hair pulled into a bun at the base of her neck, wore the marks left by a life of hardships like a batch of honor. Crows feet framed dark eyes that didn't lose their sparkle because of the worry lines cutting their way across her forehead. She held herself with pride, always presenting a put-together front wherever she went.

"I'm sorry, Mama," Raphael pressed a kiss against his mother's cheek in return. "Traffic was acting up again."

"Of course Mijo," there was a teasing edge to her voice as guadelupe took a step bak, grabbing her son's hands. "Now let me see that sun of yours." Her four boys held a very special place in guadalupe's heart. Raphael knew this; knew the fights she had fought for each and every one of them. She was also the kind of mother who believed that a life in solitude was a punishment to her children, which was why she had taken up checking the boys' soulmarks religiously every time she saw them. Just to check if they had found true happiness since the last time she saw them.

"Mama," Raphael felt his heart jolt into his throat as he gently wrapped his fingers around those of his mothers to halt their movements. "There's something I need to tell you, first." Guadalupe's eyes snapped to his face, scanning it. The exitment was quickly tamed by whatever she found in his eyes. "I'm gay, Mama. It isn't a girl. It's a boy." Guadalupe didn't say anything, though her dark brown eyes clouded over as they returned to the wrist still covered by the pristine white sunday shirt. She carefully undid the buttons, even as Raphael's whole arm shook in her grib. His heart was beating hard and strong somewhere in the area of his uvula as his mother let her fingers skim across the mark he now shared with Simon.

After a moment her eyes returned to his face, and there was next to nothing readable in them. "We are late for church, Mijo." she said, voice firm as always. "Get your brothers. I'll wait in the car."

Almost every Sunday Raphael would get in the car he owned only for one purpose. - To drive it to the middle-class suburban area where his mother and two of his brothers lived, and pick them up to take them to the nearby church. It was a familiar routine. Calming in its familiarity. He used to look forward to the time spent with his family, the brief moment of fresh air, in-between hard working days. Guadalupe didn't say anything when Raphael and his brothers joined her in the car. She didn't say anything on the drive and she stayed quiet all through Service, except from when she, in a whisper, turned to Raphael during prayer to ask for his name. She stayed behind, after Service to talk to the priest.

It wasn't until later that day, when lunch had been shared and the two younger boys sent of to play or do their homework, that Raphael got to know what had been happening in his mother's head. He'd spent most of that day shaky and on edge. His mother's silence had weighed on him like a ton of bricks, making his heart twist and his stomach turn at any given reminder of the secret revealed.

"Let me see the Sun and Moons again, Mijo," Guadalupe and Raphael had relocated from the kitchen to the livingroom. She was sitting in her armchair, and he was sitting on the sofa next to her. Hesitantly, Raphael held out his wrist, and once again she let her fingers skim over the mark, tracing the double crescents now framing his flaming sun. "Like night and day, hm, Mijo," she whispered, and a soft smile was playing at the corners of her lips. Raphael felt a smile of his own bloom at the sight of it.

"I suppose," he said. He had only known Simon for two days, but he could already see how different and yet how similar they were.

"And his name is Simon, yes?" Raphael smiled slightly, as he nodded sharp and clear. A bout of confidence made him pull out his phone and thumb his way to the picture he'd taken the day before at the park. Simon was sitting on the grass, the golden trees in the background. He was smiling that wide smile that made his eyes squint as he jokingly waved at the camera. He'd been in the process of taking a picture of Raphael, who'd retaliated by snapping one of his own. "This is him," Raphael said as he handed over the phone to his mother.

"Ah, hermoso, no?" Guadalupe inspected the picture, sending her son little teasing glances. "Very handsom." Scratching at the back of his neck, Raphael nodded his agreement.

"This is not easy, Raphael." As she passed back the phone Guadalupe leveled him with an even look. "It is not what we are taught is right. But then, the world is changing, no? And I am thinking that nothing as beautiful as my son's mark joined with that of someone else's can bad. A filled mark is pure. No matter who filled it." Raphael nodded at his mother's words, only halfway meeting her eyes. Slowly and deliberately she lent across the armchair to fold a wrinkled hand over his, her clever eyes meeting his full-on. "Te amo, mijo."

"Te amo, mama." it was whispered softly and filled with held-back emotions. Because he knew this was all that would be said on the matter. From here on out, Simon would be accepted in this family as the soulmate of Raphael's that he was.

(...)

The park was half empty for a change when Simon crossed the street from the subway station to make his way towards the bench facing the little pond hidden among tall trees that sheltered the place from the city. Maybe the lack of people had to do with the slight drizzle in the air which made the world grey and hazy around the edges. Simon himself shuddered, pulling the collar of his coat up higher. Autumn was slowly turning into winter in New York, the temperature dropping proportionally with the increase of trees and Santas displayed in shops all over the city. A mere week ago he would be hiding away in the library, waiting for his afternoon class. But things had changed. How things had changed. The last week had been nothing short of a tornado of emotions for Simon.

Meeting his soulmate was something Simon had been dreaming about since he was a little boy. Back then his vision of finding the person with whom he would share his life, the one who would complete him, had been utterly naive in its optimism. Life had since then taught him just how cruel the world could be. How love was not enough; how evil could still strike. Even so, he had never stopped dreaming of the girl that would one day traipse into his life and change everything for the better. Realising that his soulmate was not curvy with long hair or whatever else corresponded with the stereotype he had created for her had been a numbing shock. One that had quickly been washed away as Raphael had rolled up his sleeve. As Simon had looked down at his mark now merged with that of Raphael's on his soulmate's wrist, he'd felt the rush of clear, distilled happiness erupt within him just like he had always envisioned. Raphael was his, and he couldn't wait starting this new part of his life with all the wonders it would bring.

Then he'd looked up into the dark, intense eyes of his soulmate already resting on his face. It had been entirely impossible to decipher the feelings in them, and that, more than anything, had drowned out the happiness. Simon had, ashamedly, considered not turning up at the restaurant that evening. Luckily, his roommate had had no time for his indecisiveness, and had pushed him out the door. The soft smile that had met him, as he joined Raphael at the table was now safely stored in his mind's collection of proof that this was all worth it. Proof that was needed, because it had only been a week, and Simon was already filled with conflicting views on his future with the soulmate he had spent years waiting for.

"Here," the coffee cup suddenly appearing in front of him pulled Simon from his internal brainstorm. He'd made it to the bench where he had started meeting Raphael for lunch every weekday without really noticing, just like he hadn't noticed his soulmate joining him there. He turned to meet the warm eyes of his soulmate, stuttering out a thanks. For the few hours a day he got to spend with Raphael, the thoughts would normally quiet, and he'd get to revel in the calmness of being close to his soulmate. The doubts didn't feel as real when Raphael's soft voice was there to drown them out. It was the many hours they spent apart that presented the problems. That was when Simon's brain would kick into overdrive, analyzing every touch and every word spoken.

Raphael got settled on the bench next to Simon, deftly unwrapping the sandwich he must have bought on the way there along with their coffees. When he'd gotten the wrapper of, he placed his one hand on top of his knee, palm up in a silent offer. The move was executed so calmly, it seemed entirely confident and thoughtless. Simon was only just starting to realize how much energy Raphael put into always appearing in complete control. With a small smile, Simon let their fingers intertwine. It was rare for Raphael to initiate contact like this. For a moment they sat in silence, Raphael calmly taking bites out of his sandwich while Simon sipped his coffee.

"What's on your mind?" Raphael's voice made Simon jump slightly, and he caught the soft chuckle coming from his soulmate. Simon twisted in his seat to send Raphael a playful glare that was met with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "I can practically smell your brain frying, Bebé." Simon allowed his glare to intensify, though he was silently pleased at the term of endearment.

"Did you…" Simon hesitated, turning to stare out at the pond before them. "Did you know I was going to be a he before you met me?" Raphael didn't answer immediately, and Simon took the second's worth of hesitation as an incentive to jump right into one of his spiels. "Because I didn't. Not that I didn't know it was, you know, like an option or whatever. I know homosexual bonds are a thing that exist and all that, I just. Didn't think I swung that way you know? Not that I'm disappointed or anything. I like you, I mean. It's just, I'm kind of wondering if the whole not knowing might be some kind of signal, you know? Like, maybe we have one of those platonic bonds or what they call them, or maybe it's, like, a glitch?" He turned to look at Raphael, who just raised an eyebrow at him. Simon found himself longing for the day he'd be able to decipher the emotions of his soulmate, because Raphael was practically unreadable.

"What makes you think that? Specifically, I mean?" Raphael carefully extracted his hand from Simon's, using it to pick up his forgotten coffee. Simon shrugged, turning to look at the raindrops making rings spread infinitely over the surface of the pond.

"I guess because I heard you normally know? Like, my friends knew. And I kind of get the vibe that maybe you're not that into more than what we're already doing?" Simon only dared a quick glance at his soulmate's face as he spoke, though it was as emotionless as ever.

"Are you? Interested in more?" his voice was low and flat, giving away as little as his eyes, though somehow that made Simon feel like he was walking right on the edge of something big.

"Yeah? I think? But I guess that could just be Craving, right?" he forced himself to meet Raphael's eyes, though his soulmate just shook his head slowly, pursing his lips.

"Craving doesn't work like that." He said slowly.

"How do you know?" Simon frowned down at his hands twisted together in his lap.

"I have a Master's Degree in Soulmate Studies. My thesis was on the myth of Craving in Marketing."

"What?!" Simon's head snapped round to stare at Raphael, "How did I not know this?"

"I didn't want it to influence our bonding process." Raphael was sitting almost rigidly next to Simon, legs crossed, back straight and hands folded neatly on top of his knee. His head was turned to watch Simon as he spoke.

"Well, how does Craving work, then?" unlike Raphael, Simon could feel himself fidget about. His knee was bouncing up and down, unconsciously, and his fingers were tangling and untangling in his lap.

"Craving's a hormone. It's activated when the bond is first formed, and stimulate the centre of emotion to enhance what the individual is already feeling. It essentially just speeds up an already quite hefty process to strengthen the relation with the partner. It can't create emotions that are not already there. And while we're at it, platonic bonds are a construct. There's no evidence to prove they exist. There is a difference in how strong bonds are, and how they are shaped. But the idea of bonds being platonic in nature or being bonds of 'friendship' is tied with people seeking an excuse for relationships they deem inappropriate. Like homosexual bonds. So no, our bond is not platonic. And the attraction you feel is quite real. Also, I have a friend whose bond is a glitch. He bonded, but his partner did not. And, believe me, it is not a good situation for anyone to be in. No matter how hard they try to convince themselves otherwise."

"Oh," Simon felt his body still as the implications of Raphael's words swirled about in his head. He'd made a huge misstep, and now his soulmate thought he didn't believe in their bond.

"As for me and my 'vibes' I suppose you need to know that I'm asexual." Raphael cut over the fumbled apology Simon was about to stutter his way through. "Which means that the basic attraction as most people know it isn't there for Craving to enhance. I'm not sending those vibes because I don't feel them like you do. That doesn't mean that I'm unaffected by our bond. Craving, to me, is about longing. It's a strong desire to be near you, to share your space with you. The physical desires take a backseat to that. They don't come natural to me like they do to you. They never will. That's not to say that our relationship can never be physical. It just means that nine out of ten times you will be the instigator, not me." Simon carefully reached over to fold one hand over Raphael's, folded over his knee. Their eyes met, and Simon tried for a reassuring smile. "I know this means our lives aren't going to be as easy," Raphael's voice had dropped to a whisper. "But I really hope we can make it work. That you'll be willing to fight to make it work." This was the most vulnerable Simon had seen Raphael. His deep-brown eyes were heavy on Simon's face, much like the first time they'd met, though this time the feelings in them were much more obvious. Raphael was nervous yet hopeful as he waited for Simon's reaction.

"You're my soulmate," Simon twisted in his seat to face Raphael more straight on. The hand not resting on top of Raphael's came up to fold around Raphael's neck. "Of course we'll make it work." He could feel tension seep from Raphael as his thumb caressed the skin at the nape of his neck. Slowly, gazes held, Simon leaned in, brushing his lips carefully over Raphael's. The touch sent little shivers of warmth spreading over his skin. The soft sigh leaving Raphael danced over Simon's skin as Raphael tilted his head slightly to catch Simon's lips more firmly. Their eyes slipped closed as they kissed, softly.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you're specialized in soulmates!" Simon accused as the soft kiss broke, "I have so many questions!" he twisted in his seat to face the pond, intertwining his fingers with Raphael's and leaning his shoulder against his soulmate's. "Like, can you bond with someone from your own family? Or is that a myth, too?"

(***)

"Clary wants to meet you," Simon inelegantly flopped onto the couch next to where Raphael was quietly trying to read his book. It had been a little less than a fortnight since he'd found his energetic puppy of a soulmate, and he was slowly getting used to sharing his home and his personal space with the other man. They spent most of their evenings in Raphael's flat since it was larger, and he didn't share with anyone else.

"Yeah?" Raphael raised an eyebrow over the edge of his book at his soulmate spread over the couch, limbs hanging over the edges in a tangle. "You do know that that sort of thing runs on a quid pro quo principle, right?" Simon craned his neck back to send Raphael an up-side-down look. "I meet your friend, you're obligated to meet mine, and I'm just not sure you're ready for that just yet." A smirk slit over Simon's face as he twirled over to tumble of the couch only to bounce up onto his feet.

"Oh, ye of little faith," he climbed back onto the couch, standing on all fours right in front of Raphael. "Your friends are going to love me. I'm lovable." He smiled that smile, leaning in to steal a kiss. "You, on the other hand," he smirked, stealing another brief kiss, "might be in trouble mister." Raphael rolled his eyes, reaching up to pull Simon in by the collar of his t-shirt.

"I'll have you know, I can be perfectly charming if I so chose," Raphael said in a low, seductive whisper that had Simon's pupils dilate. Kissing Simon was different than Raphael had expected. It was comfortable, in a way; reassuring. It didn't make him short-of-breath or shaky as it did Simon. But it did sent pleasant heatwaves through him, calming him down. It was another way of showing Simon his affection.

"So, I'll tell her this Friday? Dinner at our place?" there was a slight hitch to Simon's breath as he pulled back to give Raphael one of his dopey looks, all smiles and squinty eyes. He flopped around for a moment, like a goldfish stranded on land, before settling himself between Raphael's legs, leaning back against Raphael's chest. Raphael huffed in mock annoyance, adjusting the grib of his book.

"Sure, why not, Bebé." he said, scanning the page in the book to find his place. It was distracting though, having your soulmate leaning against you, humming while typing out a message on his phone. Rather then finding his place, Raphael's eyes drifted to where Simon's hand rested against Raphael's bent knee, thumb flying over the keys of his phone. "Why do you always wear this?" Raphael wriggled a hand free to skim his fingers over the leather cuff on Simon's left wrist. The cuff that almost always covered up their mark.

"Oh," Simon said after a beat. "Well, my dad's mark was a double crescent as well, only they faced each other, and they had little stars instead of my bubbles. After he died my mum couldn't see my mark without bursting into tears, so I started covering it up." Simon's voice was calm as he spoke; matter-of-fact-like. "I'm not sure why I still do it when I'Ve left home, though. I guess it's just…"

"Force of habit?" Raphael mumbled against Simon's hair, pressing a kiss into it. Simon nodded, softly.

"Yeah." He sighed. "And I guess it kind of remind me of him a little, too."