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Soulmate AU - Sanders Sides

Chapter Text

I decided on doing 12 soulmate AUs and pulled the ship names out of a hat (well, a randomly generated website) and this is how the chapters will look.

Chapter 1: Tied by a string - Prinxiety

Chapter 2: First words on skin - Moxiety

Chapter 3: Names on skin - Analogical

Chapter 4: Special symbol on skin - Royality

Chapter 5: Seeing colour when they touch - Logicality

Chapter 6: Losing colour when they die - Logicality

Chapter 7: Timer countdown to meeting - Analogical

Chapter 8: Marks on skin appear on others' - Logince

Chapter 9: Feel the same feelings as each other - LAMP

Chapter 10: Voice in your head is your soulmate's - Prinxiety

Chapter 11: Hearts appear - Royality

Chapter 12: Defective Soulmarks - LAMP

Chapter Text

That one string, the faint, slightly transparent blood red string seeming to be tied to the end of his ring finger that determines some part of his fate in this life. Well, it would do if he could actually find his other half, the other individual who’s tied to the other end of the string. And Roman should not be as hung up on it as he is but he can’t help it, can’t help but day dream and imagine who he is meant to be with, what they look like or what they act like, their little tics and attitude.

He tries so hard not to let it interfere with his daily life, not to distract him during his work, but he can’t help wondering how long it will be until he meets them, his soulmate, or even if he will, well, how long is a piece of string? Still, work is as boring as ever, teaching children English has its pros but definitely has its cons, really Roman lives for the after-school drama club in which he’s the director. But even today the kids’ performance doesn’t take his mind completely from thoughts of his soulmate.

“I think that’s enough for the day,” Roman shouts suddenly after a glance at the clock, it’s around five in the afternoon, “you’ve all done so well, go home, rest, practice your lines, I’m sure you can do it!” The children laugh and chatter as they leave the hall, Roman packs up his notes before wandering to his classroom to grab his bag. He packs everything away to either take home or know where they are tomorrow before his phone rings suddenly.

“Hello?” Roman speaks into his phone, well aware that it’s his mother on the other end. “Hello, Roman, dear,” his mother, Susan, replies, “will you pop around mine tonight, love? I know you’ve been at work late today, so I’ve made us some food.” Roman grins at that as he grabs his bag and wanders down the corridors to the exit, he really didn’t want to have to cook for himself today, plus he loves his mother’s cooking.

“Sure, mom. I’m just leaving work now, I’ll see you in about five, okay?” Roman says, waving a small goodbye to the receptionist and makes his way out to his car. “Okay, dear. Oh! By the way we totally need to gossip about my neighbour’s cute grandson!” Roman laughs at his mother’s eagerness, forever trying to set him up with non-soulmate guys and Roman plays along because he knows soulmates aren’t always right for each other, his parents are the evidence of that. But something deep inside him keeps telling him to wait.

“Sure thing, mom. See you soon,” he says, hanging up after hearing his mother say goodbye. He starts his car and drives almost on autopilot to his mother’s house on a small street filled with families and old folks. He parks in the drive behind his mother’s car, noticing the extra car in the drive of the house next door when he gets out, it must be the old lady’s grandson. Well, at least he’s old enough to drive.

“Roman!” Susan shouts from the doorway, she must have been peaking out the window for him to arrive, acting as if she hadn’t seen him in months but in reality, they had brunch together last Sunday. “Mom,” he greets her back, locking the car before bringing her into a hug and kissing her on the cheek before ushering her back inside the house. “I’ve got a lovely pasta bake in the oven, it should be ready in ten minutes or so. Would you like a coffee for now, love?” Susan asks, leading her son through to her kitchen slash dining room.

Roman smiles and puts his work bag on one of the dining table chairs, “yeah that’d be nice, mom.” He sits down at the dining table, taking one of his files out of his bag, the one with his script in, while his mother busies herself with the coffee machine. He makes a few brief notes and annotations before Susan returns, putting their coffees down on the table before sitting opposite her son, he shoves his file to the side to focus on his mother instead in an attempt not to seem rude.

“So, how’s work dear?” Susan asks, almost out of habit, and Roman laughs a little before responding, “nothing out of the ordinary, exams are getting to the children, but the drama club are as enthusiastic as ever, I just hope our set comes in time.” His mother hums in understanding and opens her mouth to say something before closing it again, Roman looks at her confused and she blurts out, “okay, I’ll just get to it!” Roman’s eyes widen a little, but he nods for his mother to continue.

“So, Dora’s grandson is the cutest thing ever,” Susan gushes and Roman rolls his eyes in an overexaggerated manner but it’s playful and he lets her continue. “He’s around your age I think, maybe a little younger, but he’s adorable and Dora thinks the absolute world of him. I was speaking to Dora over the garden fence, his name is Virgil and he’s visiting for the week. I’ve told her about you many times but apparently she’s told Virgil about you as well and we think you two should get to know each other.”

Susan grins, wide and persuasive, the kind of smile only a parent could give to encourage their child to do something. And, yes, Roman feels like he can’t say no. If this doesn’t work, like all his past set ups have been, then they’ll friends at best and acquaintances at worst. “Okay, sure, I’ll meet him,” Roman says, trying his best to stay casual and not let that little bit of disappointment enter his voice. He can see the red string faintly going from his finger and running through the wall of the house, into Dora’s house and who knows where from there.

“Fabulous, I’ll give Dora a ring now while you keep altering your script, then we’ll have our pasta,” Susan says, getting up and taking her coffee with her into the living room. Roman smiles faintly, watching his red string of fate for a little until he grabs for his script and pencil, scribbling out and writing new annotations to the final scene. Susan’s back in soon enough, muttering under her breath as she opens the oven and plates up their food. She brings it though, pushing Roman’s folder to the side with his plate to stop him working.

“Food time means no work,” Susan says, eating her own food as she watches Roman do so too. “I spoke to Dora, got a bit carried away but her grandson is around there now, they’re have tea in the conservatory and she told us to have a look round after our dinner so you two can meet.” Roman nods and they say no more about it, Susan talks about her week since Roman last saw her and Roman rants about the current show and the one he’s planning for winter. They finish their food and coffees, Roman insists on washing up, letting Susan put her shoes on and wait in the living room for him.

Roman wastes little time cleaning up and putting the plates away before meeting his mother in their living room. Susan looks so expectant and Roman feels a little guilty for not being as excited about meeting Dora’s grandson as his mother expects him to be. So, he fakes a smile, “should we go then?” he asks, nodding towards the door and following Susan out. She locks the door behind them before wandering over into Dora’s front garden and to her door, she knocks quickly.

They wait for Dora, who must still be in the conservatory, and Roman looks down again at his string and it’s moved more now. Instead of leading off to the side it’s going forwards, and Roman can’t help being curious as to where his soulmate has moved or if he caused this change. “Susan, hello!” Dora greets her, bringing her into a little hug and kissing her on the cheek, then she turns to Roman and does the same.

“Roman, dear, it’s been far too long,” Dora says, gesturing for them to come into her house and they do, “I hope you’re eating well and taking good care of yourself.” Roman smiles, it’s as if Dora has known them forever and not just a few years when Susan finally moved away from her ex-husband (and Roman’s father). Now though Dora is like a third grandmother to him. “I’m trying, Dora. How are you?” Roman asks and Dora laughs a little, “oh I’m not doing too bad for my age, I’ve got my lovely grandson here for the week to take care of me anyway.” Roman only nods in acknowledgement.

“I’ll make some more tea for us, shall I?” Dora asks, rhetorical but Roman nods anyway. “I’ll help you with that Dora,” Susan says and Roman can see right through his mother’s alternate motives, she wants to leave him alone with Dora’s grandson while she has a bit of gossip with Dora. Roman barely has time to glare at his mother before Dora speaks up again, “Roman, dear, why don’t you go sit with my grandson Virgil in the conservatory, he’s a bit shy but don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll make enough conversation for the two of you.”

Roman laughs at that, Dora knows him so well, but he nods leaving the two of them in the kitchen and makes his way down the hall towards the conservatory. And his string is moving, almost as if it’s leading him now, directing him right into the conservatory and- oh. That’s exactly what it’s doing. The glass walls of the conservatory let the sunlight in so beautifully and the man sitting there, on the floral print sofas, holding a delicate tea cup, dressed in dark colours is absolutely breath-taking.

His red string stops there. Attached to the end of the man’s finger. His string finally has an end, a destination, this is his fate.

And Roman realises that the man – Dora’s grandson, Virgil, he reminds himself – still hasn’t realised he’s there. So, Roman coughs lightly before speaking up, “uh, hi.” Great start. Virgil almost jumps but stop himself short, he puts down the cup of half drank tea before looking up at the other man, who his grandmother had told him was her neighbour’s son. “Hi,” Virgil responds, eyeing up the man slightly, stopping when he realises he can see the string attaching to his finger which would mean… Yes, he sees his own leading directly to this man.

“This is unexpected but, um, I’m Roman.” He moves closer, holding out his hand and Virgil takes it as he comes to a stand, seeming to hold it for a little before shaking it lightly, almost delicately, and that’s really freaking adorable. “I’m Virgil,” he responds, unconsciously flushing a little, fighting not to hide underneath his fringe and maintain eye contact with his soulmate. Oh god, his soulmate. “So,” Roman starts, a cheeky smile creeping onto his face, “we’re soulmates.”

“Yeah,” Virgil breathes out, reaching out absentmindedly for Roman’s other hand, intertwining their fingers so their string is practically non-existent between them. “Oh,” Roman says, blushing a little himself at the contact but taking the opportunity to pull Virgil slightly closer, keeping their hands together. “Maybe we should go out sometime,” Virgil says, almost under his breath as if he’s talking to himself, Roman thinks that he probably does a lot.

“Is that you asking me out on a date?” Roman asks, cheeky but fond, loving the way Virgil looks away for a moment but smiles all the same. “Sure, if you want to,” Virgil says, almost casual but betrayed by the way he smiles, wide and toothy like nothing Roman’s ever seen before, and he can’t deny that the other is gorgeous. “I want to,” Roman responds, leaning in just a little closer, taking one of his hands out of Virgil’s to bring up to Virgil’s face and, as if he was in a sappy romantic film, brushes his fringe out of his eyes. His hand comes to rest on Virgil’s cheek, Virgil’s quick to smile and lean into the touch.

“Oh, you boys,” Dora says from the doorway, “I had a feeling something like this would happen.” She smiles such a soft smile and Roman smiles back, whether she can predict the future or not, it’s more likely Virgil’s told her about his string, but Roman feels so much in that moment. His hand falls from Virgil’s face and although he wants nothing more than to kiss the other, but he doesn’t. He keeps a tight hold of his hand and sits down, pulling Virgil down with him to where he was just sitting.

Dora hands them both a cup of tea, Virgil’s black and Roman’s with milk, and she sits opposite them. She watches them, glancing between them, and Roman should feel uneasy but he’s holding the hand of his soulmate and everything is alright. “You take good care of my little Virgil, you hear me, Roman?” Dora says, stern but teasing, and Susan takes that moment to join them, quirking an eyebrow at the boys before looking to Dora for an explanation. But Dora just shrugs, mouthing ‘soulmates’ to Susan, and Susan sighs, happy and fond, before handing a tea to Dora and sitting next to her.

They have a lot to discuss but now, right now, the moment is beautiful and breath-taking and Roman could live in it forever.

Chapter Text

Virgil had to stop himself groaning as he steps out of his apartment block into the very hot sunlight and he slightly, only slightly, regrets wearing all black. His ripped jeans provide some sort of relief from the heat when the wind blows his way, but his boots and leather jacket (which hides his soul mark) make sure he's sweating. Part of his mind tells him to walk right back inside to change but if he does that he might just stay there and he definitely won't be happy with his less punk rock look.

So, he continues forwards feelings gross and slightly miserable because of it but his headphones are in making the walk a little less terrible. "Fucks sake," he mumbles under his breath, the thought of wandering around and shopping in this heat makes him only feel worse but it's a necessity. The sight of a popular coffee shop on the road ahead gives Virgil an idea, he could just pop in and buy something cool to keep him going and maintain his will to live. He smiles a little and pauses the music in his headphones, pulling them out as he approaches the shop.

He opens the door to the coffee shop which is way too busy and Virgil will definitely be taking his order to go, only the door is much lighter than he expected, and it swings open, succeeding in hitting someone and knocking them to the floor. "Holy fucking shit, I'm so sorry!" Virgil gasps out, letting the door fall shut, ignoring the few eyes that watch the scene, and he feels so, so bad for the man whose contents of his drink is now on the floor next to him.

Virgil holds his hand out for the man to grab which he does and is helped up from the ground. The man is, for lack of better words, beautiful. His hair a light brown, bordering on slightly blond, his glasses rest on his freckled nose and his cheeks are also scattered with freckles. He's wearing light blue overalls with a yellow t-shirt underneath which makes him look like the literal sun. And Virgil notices the shock in his face and momentarily panics that the man is hurt more than he seems but before he can ask if he's okay the man speaks up, "you watch your language young man!"

Oh. Those words are... "Oh," Virgil says dumbly, taking a little too long to register the words the other man has said. Speaking of the other man he's smiling now, bright and blinding and so fucking beautiful, and Virgil just stares even more. The ray of sunshine laughs a little, genuine but slightly awkward, before he holds his hand out for Virgil to shake which he does. "I'm Patton," the man, Patton, says when Virgil shakes his hand.

"I'm Virgil," he responds, flushing a little as he realises he's been shaking Patton's, his soulmate's, hand for a little too long. "Sorry," he immediately says, "let me, uh, buy you a drink since I made you spill yours." Virgil internally curses his awkwardness but Patton grins at him again and replies, "okay!" He feels a little guilty as one of the workers clean up Patton's spilt drink but not too bad as his soulmate drags him by the arm into the queue.

"Sorry about... you know, knocking you over and everything," Virgil says, quieter and more hesitant, but Patton waves his hand, "it's okay, it was an accident, stop apologising Virgil." And, god, he could listen to Patton saying his name over and over, he doubts he'll ever get bored of it. "Besides I think a medium frappe will cover it," Patton says, looking from the board of drinks back to Virgil, Virgil nods and takes his wallet out of his jeans.

The line dies down quick enough, Patton makes small talk with him all the while, avoiding that subject for now and, yeah, it feels nice and normal and right. And that scares Virgil, he's never had this before, never thought he'd meet his soulmate nevertheless for it to be this sweet, adorable man who seems to really like him surprisingly. He quickly orders the frappe for Patton and a smoothie for himself, fumbling with his money like he usually does as he pays. Patton's still smiling in that bright, light way that gives Virgil butterflies and helps him feel calm all the same.

Their drinks are made, they take them and sit down at a table next to the window that's barely just been vacated. "So, soulmates?" Patton says, taking a drink before grinning at Virgil to say something, and Virgil lets out a breath, "yeah, soulmates." It comes out almost defeated and sad and Patton's smile drops, he looks a little disheartened and, fuck, this isn't what Virgil wanted. "Oh, okay," Patton says, his voice is flat and obviously sad, "did you not want a- I mean I get that I would- I'm not-"

Virgil laughs a little at Patton's stumbling but cuts him off quickly, "no, no, I like you, I really do, and I'm so thankful that you're you and you're my soulmate I just, I guess I never thought I'd have one, I think I'm just shocked." Patton's looking at him wide eyed, still a little sad for different reasons but he's faintly smiling again and Virgil doesn't feel like the whole world is going to come crashing down for once. There's a silence, a comfortable silence where they're just thinking, watching each other, and Virgil ignores the little thoughts that tell him he's done something wrong.

Patton hesitates but he shuffles forwards in his seat and reaches across the table for Virgil's hand, Virgil accepts it and laces their fingers together. The position is awkward but he's holding his soulmate's hand, he couldn't be happier. The words on Patton's wrist and lower arm intrigue him, his soul mark, and he twists his hand to move Patton's arm and read those words: Holy fucking shit, I'm so sorry!

"I'm sorry for swearing," Virgil says finally, his free hand coming up to run his fingers over those words he spoke minutes ago, and Patton laughs. "Yeah, it's been awkward to have this on my arm forever, but I wouldn't change it for the world," Patton responds sounds so fond, and Virgil can't help smiling either at the fact Patton wants this, wants him as his soulmate. It kind of makes him want to cry, happy tears, but his makeup is just right today, and he doesn't want to cry in front of his soulmate so early in their... relationship?

"Can I see your soul mark?" Patton asks, all sweetness and innocence, and Virgil can't deny him that. His hands fall away from Patton and he shrugs his leather jacket off, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt a little to reveal the phrase 'you watch your language young man!' on his upper arm. "Wow," Patton breathes out, doing the same as Virgil had and traces his fingers over the words, "I still can't believe we're soulmates." There's lightness and joy in his voice, and Virgil can't believe it either.

Chapter Text

Transferring schools is never easy, Logan knows this, and yet he’s somewhat surprised when his peers stare at him after he comes out of reception. He’s not sure why they’re staring, maybe it’s his dress, he never got to wear his own clothes at his old school, it being an English school he wore the school’s uniform. Now, checking his timetable and trying to figure out which way his classroom is, Logan’s dressed in a plain black polo and blue jeans, a dark jean jacket on and his backpack on. Maybe they’re staring because they know he’s the new kid, at seventeen Logan knows they should know better than to assume things about him because he’s new.

Some part of him, in the back of his mind, tells him that just maybe some of them are looking at him wondering, maybe not quiet hoping, that he’s their soulmate. And he wonders the same. He never found his in England, maybe he will here in America, but maybe he has left them behind. Maybe they’re destined never to meet and Logan’s a little disgruntled by how okay he is about that. There’s always that little bit of wonder as to where they are and what they’re doing, what would they think of him. But since today is his first day of school he made sure to cover up his soulmate’s name with his jacket.

Not surprisingly the bell rings before he manages to get to his class, it’s not his fault all the hallways look the same. So, he walks into his English class five minutes late and the teacher goes to give him a glare before their expression softens up, realising he’s the new kid they’re expecting. “You’re the new student, right?” They say, gesturing for Logan to come closer and he does. “I’m Miss Harper, I’ll be your English teacher this year. You can sit in the spare seat in the back row,” Miss Harper says, grabbing a few sheets of paper and a book off the table and passing them to Logan.

“We’re doing partner projects, so, you’ll be working with-” She pauses, perhaps unsure of the student’s name who looks quiet but at the same time intimidating in his all black outfit, sitting in the seat next to Logan’s assigned seat, and Logan knows better than to judge by the way someone looks. “The fag!” one of the classmate’s shouts, a few of them snickering afterwards, obviously mocking the boy and Logan fights not to frown too much or say something too early into him being at the school, not really wanting to make enemies yet. Heaven forbid become the victim so soon to bullying, he’s had enough of that at his old school to last a lifetime.

Logan just nods and walks to his seat, aware that his partner is looking at him through his fringe and he tries to act normal, while Miss Harper tries to calm the rest of the class down. “Alright, you all know what you’re doing, I want to see things at the planning stages, but you can go to the computer room if you’re ready to start creating your presentations,” Miss Harper almost shouts to the class. At least half of the students get up and leave the room, supposedly to go to the computer room, and Logan turns in his seat to see the other boy is already looking at him with those piercing, stunning eyes. Oh.

“Hello,” Logan says, trying to start the conversation, fumbling through the papers Miss Harper gave him for some indication of what they’re supposed to be doing. “Here,” the boy says finally, sliding a piece of paper to Logan, “we have to choose a character to analyse and answer a few questions about, I’ve already chosen but if you don’t like it we can change it.” Logan is almost shocked at the softness of his voice, expecting rough and angry, it’s anything but (and Logan totally isn’t swooning internally). “I, uh, I’m sure it’s fine,” Logan says finally, he’s read the book and he’s sure any character the other chooses will be fine, even if it wasn’t he’s sure he’d still go along with it.

“I’ve planned a lot of it already, so, if you want we can go to the computer room.” Logan nods but is still surprised when the other gets up abruptly, and also by how tall he is (maybe around six feet three if Logan had to guess), Logan follows though awkwardly and stumbling a little after the other as they leave the classroom and trail down the halls. “Hey, wait up,” Logan says, the other is a lot further down the hall than him and he can feel the papers slipping out of his grip, sure enough they end up on the floor.

The papers scatter and Logan half wants to cry, and half wants to scream for fucking up so early into being here and meeting this undeniable cute guy. Fuck. “Shit,” he mumbles, dropping to his knees to pick up the papers, flinching a little when the other suddenly drops down in front of him, picking up the papers with him, “sorry,” Logan mumbles. “It’s okay.” Is the abrupt response he gets as the other shoves his papers into his hands and he’s quick to thank the other in return.

It’s almost a tense walk to the computer room which looks like a library with computers dotted about the room, he follows the other to the back of the room, somewhat hidden away. They sit down and in silence log onto their computers until the other boy speaks up suddenly, “why didn’t you laugh at me? With them?” And Logan is a little more than stunned. “Why would I laugh at you? And especially for something as cruel as that?” He asks, thoroughly confused, he turns his chair to look at the other to gage his reaction. “Most people do,” he responds, shrugging a little as if it’s nothing, and Logan bites his lip, feeling both sorry and sympathetic.

“I know how it feels like,” he says simply which gets a look from the other boy and Logan laughs a little, “don’t look so surprised, you’re not the only one who gets bullied for their, uh, sexuality, you know.” Then the other boy has that look on his face, one of hurt and understanding and sympathy, and Logan knows they have more in common than it seems. “Sorry,” the other replies, almost instinctively, and Logan shakes his head. “It’s alright…” then Logan pauses, realising he doesn’t know his classmate’s name.

His partner laughs a little under his breath, a little more at ease now, “Virgil,” he says, “my name is Virgil.” And oh. Oh. OH! That is an unusual name, but a one Logan is all too familiar with. Logan’s eyes widen a little, looking shocked but not necessarily displeased because that’s the exact first name on his wrist. “Virgil Blake?” He asks, still hesitant to know if this odd, somewhat shy, emo boy is his soulmate and if he is what the fuck is he going to do next! “Yeah, why?” The boy – fuck, Virgil – asks, obviously very confused.

And Logan’s fumbling to get his jacket off, his nerves getting the better of him, but the jacket is off, and he shows the black ink permanently on his skin reading: Virgil Blake. “Oh,” Virgil breathes out finally, almost as if he’d been holding his breath, and he laughs a short, nervous laugh. And Logan feels better that it’s not just him feeling this way. Then he’s rolling the sleeve of his leather jacket up a little to show his own wrist, the nice black ink there reading: Logan Michael.

“I assume this is you then?” Virgil asks, a little more confident and cheeky, and Logan can’t stop himself from smiling a little, his fingers reaching over and barely touching his own name on Virgil’s wrist. “Yeah,” Logan responds a little late, flushing bright red before he pulls his hand away from his soulmate’s wrist. “Oh, god, we’re soulmates,” Virgil whispers out, looking a cross between horrified and distraught. And Logan hates the way his heart sinks.

He feels sick to his stomach at the tone of Virgil’s voice. Because what if he doesn’t want a soulmate? Or maybe he just doesn’t want Logan as his soulmate. Logan wouldn’t blame him.

Virgil realises from Logan’s silence that he’s done something wrong, so, he’s quick to clarify, “that was a good ‘oh, god’ I just- I’m nervous and I mean it’s not everyday you meet your soulmate.” Logan laughs, he laughs because if he doesn’t he might cry, “I know, I understand, maybe we should get to know each other. Become friends before anything else.” Virgil nods, flushing a little at the implications of Logan’s words, and, god, does Logan find that attractive.

The bell rings half an hour later, they got a whole three sentences written down and had to be shushed by the librarian twice. And also ended in them swapping phone numbers and promises to go around the other’s house to ‘finish the project’.

Chapter Text

Roman’s first day on the job was good, fun even. He enjoyed it. Being the new theatre teacher came with pros and cons, the kids seemed to adore him and a few of the staff seemed to take to him quickly. A lot of the older women fawned over and babied him, he’s just fresh out of college after all, and he took a liking to them too, to this place. The school quickly became his second home almost, the auditorium his office.

He teaches the older kids drama as a subject and also runs the extracurricular drama club, putting on two shows each school year. It’s pleasant and never fails to bring a smile to Roman’s face. But what surprised him more than all this was his meeting with the guidance counsellor. The sweet, adorable man came up to him on his second day, all bright smiles with his hand held out for him to shake. So, Roman shook it.

“Hi, I’m Patton Cutler, the guidance counsellor here. I hope you’re settling in well and, well, if you’re not I’m here to help,” he spoke enthusiastically with a smile plastered on his face, “my office is on the second floor, just near the science department, room 204.” And Roman finds himself smiling too, taking in the happy, undeniably cute man in front of him. “Um, brilliant, I’ll definitely pop in at some point,” Roman finds himself saying, flushing a little at his stupid choice of words, his brain spontaneously turned to mush.

But Patton grins wider at that, at the prospect of seeing him again. “Oh, sorry, what was your name?” Patton asks, his own cheeks blushing at the fact he forgot to ask this prior. “I’m Roman Newfield,” he responds, smiling gently before he checks the clock on the wall of the hallway, “I should go now, I’ve got a class in ten minutes, but I’d love to see you again at some point, Patton.” Patton smiles and nods, leaving with a wave and quiet “goodbye.” Roman finds himself watching him walk away, embarrassed when he realises what he’s doing.

They met again by accident, in the staff room. Roman had popped in to make a coffee between his last class leaving and the drama club starting. Patton is there with papers spread out in front of him, tip of the pen in his mouth and his eyebrows furrowed. And Roman’s breath hitches, stopping ridged in the doorway as he takes the sight in. Patton spots him and waves him over. They sit and chat for a little too long. Roman doesn’t get his coffee and is late to start the drama club. And he can’t keep his thoughts off Patton.

It’s by week five that Roman realises he’s fallen in love with Patton. The counsellor constantly cornering him, asking how he is, and wanting to meet up with him outside of work. So, they do, they go out for coffee and the cinema, Roman sits a little too close to him and Patton rests his head on his shoulder. He wants to stop himself, tell himself he has no right falling in love with a man that is not his soulmate. He doesn’t think about it. He tries not to. Blocking out thoughts of his soulmate. What’s the possibility of them meeting anyway? Little to none.

So, he lets himself fall in love with Patton.

It all comes to a head one Saturday night. They’re at Patton’s place, which looks exactly like Roman would’ve imagined – homely, cute, warm. They’re halfway into their second Disney movie, Patton cuddled into his side and he’s sure he’s half asleep already. Roman’s arm is draped around Patton’s shoulders, holding him close, feeling his body heat. And Roman has to stop himself pressing a soft kiss into Patton’s curly hair.

But Patton kisses him first. Firm, straight on the lips, his head tilted upwards and Roman bends down a little to kiss him back. It’s beautiful, soft, better than he could ever imagine. He lets himself get lost in it for a moment, Patton’s hand comes up to cup his cheeks, fingers soft of his cheekbone.

And Roman pulls away hard, like he’s been scalded. He almost feels bad as Patton looks so hurt, heartbroken. “I’m sorry,” Roman apologises softly, moving completely away from Patton to the other side of the couch, “I just- I’m sorry.” He looks away, ashamed, he doesn’t want to see the way Patton’s eyes fill with tears and his face flushes with embarrassment. “No, I’m sorry, I forced myself onto you, I just- I thought we were, you know,” Patton says, trailing off, not wanting to admit that he’s read the signals wrong.

“No, we were, we are. I do like you, Pat, very much,” Roman clears up instantly, shuffling closer to Patton again and taking his hand in his own, trying to comfort him. “I, um, but we’re not meant to be, are we Pat?” He asks, quiet and hesitant, he doesn’t want to admit it to himself nor to Patton. So, Patton says it, “we’re not soulmates.” There’s a pause, awkward and unsure. “Yeah,” Roman says, unnecessarily and stupidly.

So, he kisses Patton on the cheek and takes his leave. He cries when he gets home before taking a shower and going to sleep. Patton cries himself to sleep too.

On Monday there’s normalcy again. Patton pops his head into the auditorium to say his hellos. Finding Roman in nothing but a tank top and joggers, covered in paint too, and a whole load of set and props spread across the floor and staging. Patton goes to quip about Roman making a mess, but he gets closer and spots something on Roman’s shoulder – a mark, his soul mark. It’s a bright red heart, small and cute, with a golden yellow crown atop of it.

And that mark is oh so familiar to him. It’s the same mark that’s on his ankle. His heart seems to stop in his chest, the words caught in his throat.

“Roman,” he says, little more than a whisper but Roman’s head turns to see him, grin spread on his face and it only falters a little when he sees Patton – that only hurts Patton a little. “Patton,” he responds, coming to a stand and wiping his hands off on his joggers before making his way over to the other. “What are you doing here?” Roman asks, obviously curious and confused. And Patton shakes himself from this sort of trance.

“I came to say hello but I, uh, I saw your soul mark and I- I just,” Patton stutters out, cheeks flushing as Roman gives him a pointed look, silently telling him to just spit it out. So, he does. “I think you’re my soulmate.” Roman’s eyes go soft, almost sad and sorry, “oh, Patton.” It’s obvious from his tone that he doesn’t believe Patton. “No! Not ‘oh Patton’ no,” Patton exclaims, a little angry that Roman would think such a thing, that he thinks he would lie to him about this of all things.

So, Patton crouches down, rolling his pant leg up a little and his sock down, pointing at the clearly identical mark. And Roman gasps, staring at him with disbelief, his hands gripping at Patton’s shoulders, trying to comprehend what is going on. This man in front of him – the cute, bubbly, happy friend of his – is in fact his soulmate. Roman grins all over again, pressing his lips to Patton’s, softly and sweetly.

The melt into each other’s embrace, hands winding around the other’s body as they kiss and kiss and kiss. They kiss until they’re breathless, until they can’t think of anything but each other, until the bell rings and they must part ways. Roman promises to see him in the staff from at lunch time, to talk to him and maybe he gets distracted kissing him again, he promises to take him out then, on a proper date.