Work Text:
Dan's alarm is ringing. He presses snooze, then glances at the clock, wondering why it's so early. Suddenly, it clicks. Today's the day he's leaving to spend the week with his grandparents. Of course.
He throws on a black shirt and jacket and some blue jeans, then slips into his black sneakers. Running outside, he hops into his small car and immediately starts driving. He's late already.
His gaze falls on the tip of a neatly handwritten phrase tattooed on his wrist. He knows the words well.
"Oh my gosh, are you a secret agent?"
He knows that these words are supposed to be the first words his soulmate will ever say to him (in his soulmate's handwriting) and that, like everyone, he got them on his 18th birthday about a month ago. But he isn't sure he wants a soulmate that thinks he's a secret agent. Isn't that a bit weird?
He has to admit he likes the neatly scrawled handwriting, though.
He isn't paying attention, and suddenly, his fuel tank is almost empty. But also, he's here. He pulls over to a nearby gas station. He refuels, then heads inside to pay, pushing down his sunglasses against the bright shining of the sun.
The man working the register has mousy jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. He's fumbling nervously with a long-empty granola bar wrapper.
"Are you considering eating that?" Dan asks, raising an eyebrow, and the frantic cashier looks up, eyes wide.
"Oh my gosh, are you a secret agent?" He asks, eyes wider.
"What?" Dan sputters, partly because why?, and partly because holy shit, those are the words on his wrist.
"Oh, um, you're wearing all black and you have sunglasses." The nervous cashier laughs. "Sorry."
Then Dan notices a messy tattoo on the cashier's exposed arm, and he knows it's his messy handwriting, and he knows it reads "Are you considering eating that?", but he doesn't think anyone else could ever read his handwriting, so he asks, "What's that?"
"Hm?" The cashier glances at his wrist. "Well, I think it's my soulmate tattoo, but I could never read it. I mean, this person must either have really bad handwriting, or not be able to write!"
"Yeah." Dan nods, but inside he's choking because he's just found his soulmate, but thanks to his crappy handwriting, his soulmate doesn't know. "What's your name?"
"Phil." The cashier says. "You?"
"Dan." Dan replies.
"Oh my gosh, you're danisnotonfite, right?" Phil grins.
"Um...yes?" Dan frowns. Barely anyone watches his crappy videos. And now Phil seems to be a fan?
"I love your videos! I can't believe I ran into you at a gas station." Phil giggles.
"Yeah." Dan nods. "I should pay, I need to meet my grandparents, but..." He grabs a travel brochure from a nearby rack and scribbles his number onto it. "Call me later."
Phil grins.
three years later
"C'mon, wake up, we need to record a new video today!" Phil shakes Dan awake, and Dan groans.
"Yeesh, Phil, I'm awake." He mutters. He needs to remember to get a lock for his room.
"Got it. Leaving now." Dan can hear Phil walking out and closing the door.
Dan gets dressed and glares at the tattoo that seems to be glaring back from his wrist. Phil is still unaware that they're supposed to be soulmates, but Dan is very much aware. Occasionally, Phil wonders aloud what his scribbly tattoo could possibly say, but not very often.
The two moved in together about two years ago (Phil had a huge fanboy moment) and started making videos together. They'd gotten quite a fan base, but Dan still felt alone.
He left the room and walked over to the kitchen, where Phil was eating his cereal again.
"Phil, really?" Dan raised an eyebrow.
"I'm innocent, I swear." Phil replies through a mouthful of cereal.
Dan rolls his eyes. "Sure."
It's a hot summer day, but Dan doesn't want to take off his jacket. Then Phil will see his nearly written tattoo, and chaos would ensue. No, he was fine burning up in here.
"Dan, are you okay? You're sweating." Phil asks, glancing up from his ongoing cereal thieving.
"Just a bit hot. It's fine." Dan shrugs.
"Just take off your jacket." Phil shrugs. He dangles his spoon loosely between his fingers. "Come to think of it, I've never seen you not wear a jacket."
"Hm." Dan shrugs again and sits down.
Phil seems to decide to let it slide, but then doesn't. "What's that?"
"What's what?" Dan asks, glancing up from his busy staring-at-the-table exercises.
"That." Phil points to something, and Dan looks, and oh crap, it's his tattoo, Phil saw the end of it, this is not good, and now he's hyperventilating.
Phil raises an eyebrow. "Show me."
Dan begrudgingly removes his jacket. Phil looks at his tattoo and his eyes widen. He looks up at Dan and simply says, "Why didn't you say anything?"
Dan gulps. "I didn't...I mean I thought...it would've been awkward..."
And suddenly Phil is hugging him, and they're both crying, and Dan can't really tell what's going on, then Phil laughs.
"I should've known." He mutters. "You and your stupid terrible handwriting."
And as they're both laying on the floor in each other's arms, laughing and crying together, Dan can't think of anywhere he'd rather be.