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Natsuo stomped down the stairs, running into the kitchen.
“Where is that asshole!?” He grabbed a washcloth, scrubbing at his face. He glared at the mirror, marker not budging.
“Dad’s already at work,” Fuyumi called back. Which, honestly, surprised Natsuo a little bit. Not that Enji was already at work, when was the asshole not at work. More that she’d not tried to correct him from calling him that and immediately assume he meant Enji, and not their brother (who was a whole different kind of asshole).
“Not him,” Natsuo muttered, sitting at the table. Giving up. Shouto looked at him and cracked a smile before grabbing his lunch and rushing out the door for school. “Touya. Where’s Touya?”
“He’s back on campus with his underclassmen friends, remember?” Fuyumi came over with breakfast, and her eyes widened at the state of Natsuo’s face. “... I see why you’re asking.”
… “Shouto drew a dick on my face?” It was kind of the only explanation that was left. Touya wasn’t there, Fuyumi wouldn’t dare… Shouto hadn’t really seemed like the type, but he had been spending more time with Touya. Which was, frankly, just more reason to kill Touya.
“That really doesn’t sound like him. It wasn’t coming off?” Fuyumi walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the washcloth (that Natsuo had already tried to wipe the dick off with!) and walking back, scrubbing at his forehead.
“I did that already,” he grumbled, sinking into his seat. “No. He must’ve used like industrial strength markers or something, Fuyumi, it’s not budging .”
Fuyumi kept scrubbing for a moment longer before throwing the washcloth to the sink, pursing her lips. She tapped her fingers on her side and glanced at Natsuo, just a little apprehensively.
Like she was afraid he was going to snap at her. That wasn’t going to happen unless she was the one who’d drawn the dick on his forehead with ultra strong markers.
“Have you considered it’s your soulmate?” she finally asked, sitting down with her own breakfast.
His soulmate.
Sure, it wasn’t the craziest thing that she could have said. Everybody had a soulmate, and everything that was drawn on your skin appeared on theirs. People tended to avoid doodling or leaving notes on their hands for that reason, though some people sought it out.
Natsuo didn’t exactly love the idea of having a soulmate. Enji and his mom had been miserable together, but Enji had insisted since they were soulmates, it meant that the match was perfect for more than quirks. Natsuo was pretty sure that was a load of bullshit, but the single time that he had mentioned it to them, he’d been told in no uncertain terms that he should not breathe a word about their relationship again.
So, yeah, sue Natsuo for not being the most interested in the idea of a soulmate. Still. The dick wouldn’t wash off no matter how hard he scrubbed, it was…
Well. It wasn’t the worst guess.
He sighed, walking over to his backpack and grabbing a pen.
“What are you doing?”
“Figuring it out.”
Natsuo pulled the pencap off with his teeth. If the dick hadn’t come from Shouto (and he hoped to god that Touya hadn’t gotten him in his clutches that deeply yet), then there was one way to find out where it came from.
Everything that was drawn on your skin appeared on them. Plenty of people used that as a forum of communication. Natsuo had never bothered and neither had his soulmate, but he was not walking around with a dick on his face all day.
So it was time to find out.
Did you draw a dick on your face?
Natsuo barely had to take a minute before the same sharpie as his forehead showed up on his arm. You caught me. This is something I chose on purpose.
… I really hope that’s sarcasm. Natsuo wrote small. There was only so much room on his arm, and if his soulmate was going to act like this, he was going to need his entire arm to deal with this conversation.
My asshole friend did it.
Ugh. Great, well, at least it wasn’t Shouto, but it meant that his soulmate was friends with someone like Touya, which was… it sucked! Natsuo did not want to have to deal with that kind of people. This was exactly why he didn’t want to meet his soulmate.
Will you wipe it off?
I tried to but the asshole used a permanent marker and it won’t budge. Well, wasn’t that something! Natsuo was trapped with a dick on his face because his soulmate’s friend was too shitty to take it off even though it wasn’t only affecting his soulmate. Great.
Tell him to get it off. I’m not walking around with a dick on my face all day.
He says he won’t help me get it off unless you come over.
What the fuck kind of ploy was this? Were they playing some kind of dumb game?
Where are you? Natsuo finally wrote, the words taking up some of the last of his arm.
His soulmate’s handwriting was different this time—someone else was writing for them? Maybe there were a bunch of people in the room with them, which would make sense considering the fact that they’d said that their friend wouldn’t get rid of it.
Great. He was going to have a crowd. But it had an address.
He grabbed his phone and his backpack and ran from the house.
And then he ran back into the house to dig out a beanie to at least cover the dick on his forehead for the train ride.
The address led him to an apartment not far off of his own school’s campus, but in the worse part of town. The part that Natsuo had avoided because that was where Touya and his friends stayed. He knocked on the door, and all of the incriedibly loud yelling inside of the building went silent. Seriously, how had no one filed a noise complaint against these people?
And one of them was his soulmate.
“Tomura, it’s for you!”
No one had even opened the door yet, which Natsuo supposed answered his question of why there were multiple handwritings on his arm. His soulmate’s roommates, or maybe friends, had been with him. They knew that Natsuo was there to meet his soulmate.
Ugh, that was so embarrassing.
The door opened to a boy with long white hair, pulled back in an incredibly tangled ponytail, eyebrows raised. His bangs covered where the dick would be, so Natsuo couldn’t tell if this was the person he was supposed to be meeting or not.
He looked… familiar, though. Something about him stood out to Natsuo, like maybe they had met before or—
His eyes slowly moved behind the other man and he groaned at one of the people he saw watching over the edge of the couch.
Oh, for the love of fuck.
It was one of Touya’s friends.
“Don’t think so,” he said, stepping aside and waving Natsuo in anyway. “Touya! Your fucking brother is here!”
“Natsuo? How did you know where— no .”
Touya stood up and then stood frozen, staring directly at the dick on Natsuo’s forehead where he’d pulled the hat off. To identify himself, like he really needed identification if he was barging anywhere other than into his brother’s friends’ apartment, apparently. Touya stared at him for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Yeah, laugh it up. This was hilarious. Absolutely hilarious.
“Yeah, I was looking for—” And then he realized that he had absolutely somehow been completely correct on the person who had drawn the dick that now graced his forehead. “... Touya.” Natsuo breathed out slowly. “Are you fucking kidding me!? It was you!?”
“Oh my god. No fucking way. You’re Tomura’s soulmate.” Touya was still laughing and Natsuo stepped into the apartment enough to punch his brother in the arm, hard enough to knock him over the side of the couch. Not that that was hard considering how Touya was sitting.
“What?” Tomura turned around, and this time Natsuo caught the writing on his arm. He looked at Natsuo for more than a split second, eyes going straight to his dick (the one that was on his forehead. Of course). He started to grin. “Oh. Touya will hate this.”
Natsuo stared at him before he burst into laughter. That. Those were the first words he’d heard from Tomura while he knew that they were soulmates.
Somehow, it made him feel so much better about the fact that they were completely tied together.
Natsuo started to respond but Tomura just dragged him down into a kiss, causing Natsuo’s eyes to go wide.
“Go with it,” Tomura whispered, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. “Your brother looks like he’s going to blow his lid.”
Natsuo couldn’t help but laugh, pulling Tomura into another kiss.
“Alright, break it up lovebirds! For fuck’s sake, I’ll help you get the dick off.” Touya groaned, grabbing Tomura’s arm and dragging him to the bathroom. “Natsuo! Out. This is family-free time. None of you.”
“But—” He had not come out all of this way just to be kicked out by Touya.
“Just listen to him. Trust me, you don’t want to be around when Himiko shows up. Maybe on a second date.” Tomura winked, yelping when that caused Touya to pull his arm harder, spitting out a string of cusses at the other boy. “Oi, Natsuo!” Tomura called, lifting up his arm. “My number’s on there. Call me!”
Natsuo looked at the chicken-scratch numbers and laughed.
“Yeah. See you later, Tomura.”
He stared at the numbers the rest of the ride home, shooting a quick text to Tomura so that he’d have his number too.
As he walked into the house, he called out that he’d arrived home, and Fuyumi came to the front of the house, smiling at him.
“Did you figure out who did it?” Fuyumi called
“Touya,” Natsuo muttered. “It was Touya.”
“Touya knows your soulmate?”
“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course he does.”
And now that Touya knew?
Who knew what would be on Natsuo’s face next time.
… he didn’t know if it made it better or worse that it would be on Tomura’s face too. At least no matter what somebody would be there to punch him.