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“Tell me stories about your soulmate. That’s the only thing I don’t know about you.”
“My soulmate…” Atsumu trailed off but never broke eye contact, “He’s a bit of a stuck up asshole, ya know?”
Sakusa only stared back in response.
“He never draws back, after the age of around seven or so he stopped. I left drawin’ after drawin’ with no response fer years and years. My twin even covered my arm with dicks and stuff and he didn’t respond.”
Atsumu swallowed thickly,
“He--uh-- I guess he might be a clean freak if ya think about it like tha’... and maybe he didn’t like all those drawings I left him.”
Sakusa, without breaking eye contact, said,
“I’m sure they made him smile once or twice.”
—
Or a Sakusa and Atsumu Soulmate AU where the drawings you make on your skin also show up on your soulmate.
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Small Graces by skeletonofaplant
Summary:"Tell me stories about your soulmate. That’s the only thing I don’t know about you.”
“My soulmate…” Atsumu trailed off but never broke eye contact, “He’s a bit of a stuck up asshole, ya know?”
Sakusa only stared back in response.
“He never draws back, after the age of around seven or so he stopped. I left drawin’ after drawin’ with no response fer years and years. My twin even covered my arm with dicks and stuff and he didn’t respond.”
Atsumu swallowed thickly,
“He--uh-- I guess he might be a clean freak if ya think about it like tha’... and maybe he didn’t like all those drawings I left him.”
Sakusa, without breaking eye contact, said,
“I’m sure they made him smile once or twice.”
—
Or a Sakusa and Atsumu Soulmate AU where the drawings you make on your skin also show up on your soulmate.
―fav parts
Atsumu wasn’t one who was afraid of being perceived by strangers as immature. He didn’t mind the stares he received on the train, and he received a lot of attention for the obscene drawings that decorated his body. His parents especially didn’t like the idea of their son parading through the streets covered in dicks and whatever else Osamu had decided to draw.
And greedily, he swallowed all the attention he got.
But the attention from strangers was in no way as satisfying as the attention that he truly desired. The attention that he craved deep down.
Truly, he wanted a reaction out of his soulmate.
That was why he never washed his arm and never accepted wet wipes or hand sanitizer or any other method of help that had been offered to him. That’s why he sat perfectly still while Osamu coated his arms in ink as he pretended to be asleep.
Whether or not Osamu knew his twin was faking, Atsumu did not know.
Call it twin telepathy, but Osamu had a freaky ability of reading Atsumu without a word needing to be exchanged between the two of them. And it appeared that his twin had picked up on Atsumu’s desperate need for attention from his soulmate.
Osamu being the one who covered his arms was just a convenient way for him to not feel like a desperate loser. Even if the receiver of the drawings had no idea that it was their soulmate’s twin drawing the dicks, the roundabout method saved Atsumu’s pride and dignity.
If Atsumu could be the artist, he would leave the dicks and the volleyballs (but maybe tone them down a touch) and he would add sunsets, flowers, hearts, grass, bugs, pencils, anything that he saw throughout the day. Correction—Everything that he saw throughout the day.
He would draw the things that made him smile and he would hope that his soulmate smiled too.
But he was not the artist.
Osamu was the artist because his soulmate had made it abundantly clear that they were not interested.
—
For one, Sakusa let Atsumu touch his arm frequently. And yet, even though it appeared he had the permission, Atsumu never let his touch linger for too long. Never let his touch stray anywhere off limits. Secondly, they knew far too much about each other. Sakusa could flawlessly recount Atsumu’s daily routine, while Atsumu seemed to know every single class Sakusa had taken during his college years.
—
Being with Atsumu felt like the easiest thing Sakusa had ever done.
His parents had been right— a soulmate was someone who would love you unconditionally.
He almost felt like laughing at his younger self for ever doubting the Universe. For ever thinking he was too difficult to love. The thought presented itself as absurd now that he was in the presence of a man who understood Sakusa all the way to the strings that made up his fibers.
Atsumu had caught him like a kid caught a butterfly. Had held his wings down and studied the patterns without restraint.
And for some inexplicable reason, it was this that made Sakusa love him.
It had been uncomfortable at first. It had been unsettling. But it had also been tremendously easy.
He didn’t have to explain his odd behaviors. Never once had to apologize for being harsh. Atsumu took him as he was, and never asked for change.
Their lives intertwined with the ease Sakusa had always craved from life.
―
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