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To say it simply: when it rains, soulmates can connect. Two soulmates can connect by sharing eye contact for three seconds straight, and then they see it; something goes off in their eyes. The spark is different for everybody, and it often displays the overall image of the couple. The entire neighborhood leaves their houses to meet with the one person that they dearly hope will be their soulmate. It’s saddening to say that most of those occasions just don’t work out.
Karl’s deathly afraid of rain showers. Not exactly afraid of the rain itself, but of the event that follows. Not that he’s worried about the whole soulmate thing- he’d love to have one, love to not be lonely.
But it makes his stomach churn just thinking about it. He can’t shake the wishing feeling that swirls in his stomach. He’s a terrible liar; he wishes his soulmate were Sapnap. Sometimes it feels like they are sometimes, when they communicate without saying anything. He’s got endless moments of him and Sapnap that blur the line between harsh reality and wishful thinking. He knows Sapnap’s not his soulmate. Karl’s whole life, things barely ever work out for him. Good things happen, but things always go wrong somehow. He goes and gets his favorite coffee; he spills a bit in his car. He parks his car to go for a nice hike; the bumper gets dented and a bird poops on his windshield. The bad luck never ends. Karl can’t help but feel like he’ll have bad luck when it comes to his soulmate wishes, as well.
He hears the rain on his windows before he sees it. His stomach drops, but he likes the rain regardless. He just won’t make eye contact with anyone, it will be fine. To be honest, he’s afraid of finding his soulmate and knowing it’s not Sapnap. If he was being truthful to himself, he was fine with having no soulmate instead of knowing it isn’t Sapnap. The sound is nice on the glass and his roof, and it makes for nice white noise while he does work. What’s the best is that it’s sunny out; it’s a sunshower. Karl likes those more than the cloudy showers, where everything seems gloomy under the weather.
He watches the sunny rain for a while, barely focusing on his work anymore. It’s annoying how much he has to do still, and he tries to forget about it for a moment, allowing the white noise of the rain to drown out his problems.
The rain is steady, falling heavily, and Karl can see it as it passes bright light. Puddles start to form on uneven spots of ground, and the sewers start to become of use. He’s observing the rain intensely when he hears a ding sound from his desk, soon realizing it was his phone. He gets up from his seat near the window, and strides over to plop himself in the chair at his desk. Picking up the phone, it brightens with Sapnap’s name. Karl brightens at the sight, unlocking his phone and reading the message.
sapnap nick 4:36
i feel like shit
can you come over?
He replies immediately.
grabbing my coat
He’s there before he even remembers that Sapnap said he felt like shit. The door’s opened by a slouching Sapnap, who visibly brightens at the boy on his porch.
“Hey,” Karl says, smiling.
“Hi,” says Sapnap back. He smiles slightly.
“Are you okay?” asks Karl, his smile faltering a bit.
“Yeah, but I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Karl nods, and then Sapnap nods, and for the first time in a long time, the air is awkward. They don’t look each other in the eyes, pretty much looking everywhere but at each other.
“Will you go for a walk with me?” Sapnap speaks up out of silence. It startles Karl, but he nods.
He makes the confirming motion before he remembers it’s raining.
Frantically, he scrambles for excuses to make himself feel better. I just won’t look at him. It’s a sunshower, so technically it doesn’t really count, right? It’s not even raining that much, it’s fine. I can do this . It’s gonna be fine.
—
It might not be fine.
Sapnap is so close to him as they walk down the sidewalk in the pouring rain. They refused to bring umbrellas, and their clothes are getting soaked by the second. Karl doesn’t mind, and verbalizes this when Sapnap asks if they want to go back and get one. Sapnap doesn’t mind either, so they keep walking.
Karl tries to ignore how his hands shake. How those same hands are inches away from Sapnap’s, which he’s longing to hold. It takes a lot of resistance to not reach out and brush their hands together, but Karl makes it.
They’re so close. Karl wishes they were closer.
But instead of saying anything, they just walk in the rain, Karl not even sure where they’re going. It feels nice nonetheless. Karl actually prefers walking with no purpose when it’s with Sapnap rather than he’s alone. The rain makes a pleasant sound from the inside of his hood, and he silently wonders if Sapnap likes it the same way he does.
“Where’re we headed, Sap?” Karl asks, glancing at Sapnap’s face before looking away just as fast. He doesn’t want to accidentally make eye contact and then be unintentionally forced into keeping it.
“A hill that I like,” is what Sapnap replies with, facing forward. Karl swears he sees a glance thrown his way, but he’s too chicken to check.
“That sounds nice,” Karl says. His tone is teasing, but he does look forward to it. He likes these moments that he has with Sapnap, where it’s just them doing nothing. It fills him with happiness, even though their activity has no goal.
He smiles to himself, letting himself dream of scenarios that would never happen. As sad as it is, he likes his pretend-life with Sapnap. The one in his mind never fails to bring him ease, while the reality never fails to bring him disappointment.
They walk in silence, saying nothing as the rain drenches them impossibly more. Karl feels his clothes get heavy with water weight, and he debated taking off his sweatshirt.
He doesn’t when they arrive at the hill, where they sit under a tree that’s on top. The tree is big and helpful when it comes to blocking the heavy rain, and instead they receive a light mist. It smells good, Karl notices. He likes it here.
“I come here when it rains,” Sapnap confesses unprompted. The rain hitting the trees and ground is deafening, but he still tunes in. “I wanted you to see it, too.”
Karl smiles and looks at Sapnap. He pretends that his heart doesn’t painfully twist when they both look away immediately, afraid to count the time.
“I like it here a lot,” Karl admits, trying to extract the pain forming in his chest. He just wishes he could look at Sapnap with rain drenching his hair, his clothes, his face. He wonders what he looks like in the rain.
“Me, too,” Sapnap says, and Karl can hear the smile in it without looking at him. His heart is lifted for a moment, but then lightning crashes, and he’s reminded of his situation. He doesn’t hear the thunder come.
They sit in silence, enjoying the rain. Karl tries to sneak glances of Sapnap’s figure while he looks away, and finally, he gets a good idea of what he looks like. He’s beautiful even when he’s soaked. His clothes soggily drape over his shoulders almost angelically, and Karl thinks it should be illegal how good he looks. He wonders if Sapnap thinks he looks nice too.
A long time passes before Sapnap says anything, but when he does, his jaw drops.
“Can I look at you?”
Karl knows what this implies. He can feel Sapnap’s shy eyes already on him, and his heart races. Does he really want to know? Curiosity crawls up his spine, haunting his thoughts. He imagines his life if Sapnap was his. With every passing moment, each imaginary image of the duo in each other’s arms starts to pay a price.
Karl nods slowly, unsure. He wants to say yes and pretend that he’s not deathly afraid of what’s to come. He doesn’t want his future to be without Sapnap. Would Sapnap leave him if the results aren’t as expected?
“Please look at me, Karl.” His voice is desperate and sad, and Karl’s stomach churns. His mind races with negativity.
Before he can think any longer, he whips his head to see Sapnap.
Their eyes connect.
1...
Karl almost looks away. It’s like he can see right through Sapnap. He sees his worry.
2...
His heart is racing, hope draining every second. He pleads silently, not knowing what he’s pleading for. Please...
3.
His heart sinks. He’s looking at Sapnap’s eyes, being vulnerable just this once. For Sapnap. So why is nothing happening? Karl wants to cry. Nothing happened. Something was supposed to happen. We were supposed to be soulmates, he cries silently.
It could be wishful thinking, but Sapnap seems disappointed, too. They don’t stop making eye contact. Karl can feel unwelcome tears start to form under his eyelids, but he tries his best to stop them. He wants to cry so badly. Sapnap would hold him. Or at least he hopes he would. Did Sapnap have a soulmate already? He almost sheds a tear. Of course he probably does, why didn’t he think of that? He has to look away now. But he doesn’t. He should, but he doesn’t. He’s got a shred of hope left in him, that maybe, just maybe, something will change, something will happen, and maybe, just maybe, their eyes will spark. He wants to know what their dynamic looks like in spark form. He wants to know so bad. His heart hurts. Why can’t Sapnap just look away, make this easy, make it hurt less? He knew he shouldn’t have came, he should have said he was busy, he should have stayed at home and watched the rain through a window. Like he always has. Sure it was painful, but it wasn’t as bad as this. Now he knows, and it hurts more to know. Why couldn’t he just—
Sapnap’s lips are on his before he can form another thought. He lets a tear fall down his face, his stomach erupting with butterflies. They bloom in his heart and in his lungs, and he feels like he’s flying, but he’s flying so high that he has no oxygen.
Sapnap kisses him with a need that Karl recognizes all too well. His hands form around his jaw, caressing him gently like he might break.
Karl wishes he could tell Sapnap that he wants him to break him.
Despite the pit unstoppably growing in his stomach, he’s happy. Sapnap’s kissing him and it almost makes up for it. It’s nothing like he’d ever dreamed of; it’s exceeded his wishes. It had a layer of pain beneath it, a beautiful, thick top coat hiding the suffering. It was just them on this hill. It felt like they were in their own world, underneath the tree, underneath the rain.
The rain.
It hits Karl that it’s not raining anymore.
He pulls away and Sapnap looks concerned.
“Karl?”
“It’s not raining anymore,” Karl says, breathless. He’s shocked. He hears Sapnap gasps in realization.
Is that why it wasn’t working? Is that why? Is there still hope for them? Had they been too lost in the moment to notice?
Sapnap lets out a laugh in shock, and Karl giggles as well. Before they know it, they break out into a laughing fit and don’t stop ‘till they’ve fallen over on their backs and are out of breath.
“We are the worst,” Sapnap breathes, still laughing a bit.
“Yeah, we are,” Karl agrees, smiling though he just witnessed almost every stage of grief moments ago.
“I... um,” Sapnap stutters, the mood shifting immediately. The rug pulls out from under Karl as he remembers what happened just moments ago. They kissed. They kissed! He’s giddy for a moment before he realizes Sapnap’s about to say something serious.
“Uh...” Sapnap starts, and Karl braces himself. “So, um, basically, I- I kind of... I don’t know. I like to hope we’re soulmates, I guess, and, um, I wanted to find out. I’m sorry if I- if I like-“
“No, no, no, Sap, it’s okay. Really!” Karl rushes out reassuringly. A glance at Sapnap shows him relaxing at the words. He pauses, then continues softly. “I like to hope that we’re soulmates, too.”
Now that he can look at Sapnap without worry, he sees him smile.
“I, um, I really like you, Karl. Like a lot. I didn’t mean to kiss you like that—“ he chokes, but continues, “— I just, um, saw that look in your eyes, and I felt so bad, and I really do wish we were soulmates... Not, um, not that we even... know yet, but—“
Karl cuts him off by pushing their faces together once more. He basks in the way that Sapnap physically brightens, reaching up to slide a hand around Karl’s waist. This time around, it’s passionate; Karl slides a hand into Sapnap’s hair, reveling in the way it feels around his fingers. Finally, he lets himself think. He’s been waiting too long for this.
They kiss endlessly, taking breaths here and there. They both know that they’ve waited countless hours, days, weeks for this, and they’re definitely not giving up any time soon.
Karl barely hears the rain start pouring again. His heart leaps, but he decides not to say anything about it. Thoughts of What if? plague his mind. He hopes Sapnap doesn’t notice it, though if he does, he doesn’t say anything.
Karl feels Sapnap slowly pull away, and his heart races. This is it, he thinks. This is where we find out.
They separate painfully slow, and Karl’s heart is racing. His mind is blank, heart overflowing with hope.
3...
2...
1.
Nothing happens.
But then something happens. It locks their eyes together, and Karl is unable to look away. Not that he had any plans to. The spark is extremely noticeable. He was afraid he wouldn’t notice it when it happened, but it was clear. Their spark was purple and orange, and it started from the pupil and extended outwards in a spiral motion. After drifting outwards, the strokes turned around and reunited with the center of the pupil, then exploded and dissolved with finality. The lines were sharp with corners and no curves, and Karl felt oddly connected to the motion. It made sense in his head; that was the way they worked.
They never cut corners, never tried to sugarcoat things, which represented the sharp lines. They were direct and had great communication, and always ended up back together no matter what happened. The purple was definitely Karl, and the orange was Sapnap. Everything in the spark made sense.
“You’re my soulmate,” Sapnap says softly, voice breaking. Karl can see tears forming in Sapnap’s eyes before he feels some of his own start to create.
Karl nods and smiles, lips pursing as he tries not to cry. Sapnap opens his arms and Karl lets himself fall into them, a new kind of warmth swarming his body. He hasn’t felt this secure in so long. With the weight of the whole soulmate thing off his back, he feels like he can fly again. His wings have been damaged for so long; he lets Sapnap’s pair wrap around him while he heals. He’s smiling as a tear drops from his eyes, sliding down his cheek with warmth.
Karl turns himself to face away from Sapnap, situating himself in his lap. Sapnap wraps his arms around Karl’s, and leans his chin onto the fluff of Karl’s hair. He feels so safe and sure, sure that everything will be okay, finally.
He saw the spark in his eyes. Everything’s fine.
And this time, with Sapnap holding him, he knows everything’s fine.
They were made for each other.