april 26 @snowbaz-feda
i needed a break from victorian stuff so here’s a soulmate au that im p sure is unique (meaning i came up with it and havent seen this exact au yet so)
soulmate au where at age 18 everyone finds out their soulmate. On their birthday, at the minute they were born, the image of their soulmate as they look in that moment appears on their forearm. Nobody else can see it unless it’s the soulmate and that person has already reached age 18. It stays forever.
word count: 737
Baz rolled over in bed, subconsciously missing Watford’s old mattresses. Who cared it was his birthday? Who cared he was eighteen now? Nothing new was going to be revealed. He knew it, already.
A sharp itching in his left forearm caused Baz to sit up and rub at the offensive limb. The itching only got more severe until a blurry image appeared in that same spot. It was hard to tell at first, but minutes later the tattoo became clear. The dolt. Snoring and drooling on Baz’s arm for eternity. It was the final fuck you to his father from the universe. Your son’s destined to be with the tool you hate the most!! And it’s gay! Those ridiculous curls flopped across Simon’s forehead and his mouth hung open, all tattooed perfectly into Baz’s forearm.
The thing about soulmate tattoos is that only he and Simon would be able to see each other’s, so there was no telling if they were lying. And who knew when the git had been born? He was an orphan. And a dolt. And Baz’s soulmate.
Simon hated the homes. He was nearly eighteen, and technically, he didn’t need to stay there. He could just leave, if he wanted. But something kept him in the homes.
This one was in London. Actually in London. Meaning they had a harder time keeping track of kids who wandered onto the tube, or got lost at the shopping centres. Meaning Simon could slip away to a convenience store and hide Aero bars in the waistband of his trackies, as he was currently doing. And doing a damn good job of it, too, until in walked the last person Simon expected or wanted to see.
“Snow.” He sounded surprised. The tosser looked every bit as perfect and put-together as he did all through school. Except he was wearing jeans. Posh jeans, by the fit of them, but jeans nonetheless.
“Baz.” Simon was sure he sounded no less surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I live near here, this year. Your turn.”
“Went out for a drive.”
“Bull shit, Baz.”
He shrugged, letting his fingers drag across the shelves as he crossed to Simon. “What’s in your pants?”
“What are you talking about?” Simon shifted inelegantly to hide his bars.
“Do I need to spell it out of you? It’s obvious.”
“Only to righteous gits like you.”
“Right, yeah, of course.” Baz seemed less into insulting Simon than normal. “What is it, though?”
Simon felt his cheeks flame angrily. “I said. Nothing.” Simon’s forearm began to itch and he scratched it absently. Baz’s eyes dropped immediately to Simon’s arm. “What are you on about?”
Baz shook his head. “Look, if it’s a money thing, let me buy it. You know I have the cash.”
“It’s nothing, Baz. Seriously. Drop it.” Unfortunately, an Aero bar decided that moment to drop unceremoniously out of his trousers.
He chuckled darkly. “You’re stealing Aero bars? Of all the things to lift, you chose Aero bars?”
“Fuck off.” Which always means Simon’s lost. “They’re my favorite and I don’t have shit.” Simon reached again for his wrist, but Baz caught it.
“Okay, mom.” Both boys froze at the comment, remembering their and each other’s lack of a mother.
“I’m serious. It must be your birthday.”
“What the fuck does tha—? Oh. Oh right.” Simon then took to staring at his wrist, waiting for an image to appear. Baz tried not to, but couldn’t help it.
“Hand over the Aero bars, while you’re at it. I’ll buy.”
“Why would you do that?”
“It’s your birthday, Snow. Can’t be solely rude all the time. You’d get too used to it.” Begrudgingly, Simon relinquished the candy bars. Baz took all seven of them and went to pay the woman working the till.
“Jesus Christ!” Simon was swearing like a Normal again.
“What what?” Baz unwrapped a bar and took a bite, chewing slowly. “Better than I remember.”
“Baz, what the fuck.” Simon grabbed for Baz’s wrist and flipped it. Nothing. “Wait, I…then…”
“Wrong wrist, you dolt.” Baz yanked up his left sleeve, revealing the slumbering Snow on his own forearm.
“But that means…” He had that dumb look on his face. The one where Simon’s mouth hung open and his eyes were wide.
“That we’re soulmates, yeah. Come on, Chosen One. Let’s go for a walk.”