Chapter Text
“But, like what if it says ‘You're a fucking bastard.’ I feel like that’s not a good way to start a relationship,” Louis says as he shoves popcorn into his mouth. Harry can’t help but laugh.
This is the fourth movie in their B-movie marathon. Harry can’t be arsed to remember the name of it, but it’s about two soulmates who hate each other before they inevitably fall in love. Sure, it’s a totally overused trope, and Harry would rather watch paint dry for two hours than watch yet another movie with the same contrived plot, but it was Louis who wanted to do an entire marathon. So here he is, at three o’clock in the afternoon still in his pajamas, curled up on one side of the couch with Louis on the other. At the beginning of their marathon they both had an equal amount of couch, but as time wore on Harry’s got smaller and smaller as Louis took the liberty to lean against the armrest and take up, much more than this half of the couch; not that Harry minds entirely.
“It would be a bit unfortunate to have that for the rest of your life, yeah,” Harry replies, still laughing.
“It’d be totally ridiculous. What if it showed up on your wrist? You’d never be able to wear short sleeves again,” Louis continues.
They’re talking about soulmate tattoos. An obsession that most of the world has in one way or another. No one really knows why the tattoos appear, or how they work; or rather how Fate chooses two people to be together.
Most people accept it, content to let some higher power tell them who to love, they can't imagine a world where people just have to guess. Some are excited at the prospect, introducing themselves to as many people as possible in the hopes of meeting their soulmate sooner rather than later. Others have doubts, and don’t want to believe. They’re willing to do anything not to fall for someone assigned to them, or are already in a relationship and don’t think it’s fair to their partner. And there are those that don’t even get a tattoo, no chance at finding The One. No matter people’s beliefs or how hard they try to fight it, Fate has a funny way of working itself out.
Scientists have devoted their entire lives to solve the mystery of the tattoos, as long as they’ve been around: how they work, what determines two people to be soulmates? Is it something chemical? Is it a physical attribute? Scientists have been unsuccessful in finding anything conclusive.
All anyone really knows is that within a week of a person’s eighteenth birthday, the first words their soulmate will ever speak to them appear somewhere on their body. Their partner’s appears on the same body part, but on the opposite side of the body. When they finally meet, and consequently say the words to each other for the first time, the tattoos throb alerting them to their soulmates’ presence.
Harry has always been intrigued by the entire concept of meeting his other half and spending the rest of his life with them. Even before he could even comprehend just exactly what a soulmate even was; he saw the text on his mother’s left wrist for the first time, at just five years old. From that moment on, he couldn’t wait for his own eighteenth birthday to get his.
“I’ve got one,” Harry says with a smirk. “One night stand, and the first thing they say to you is ‘I wanna suck your cock.’”
“How the hell do you come up with these things? Aren’t you supposed to be the innocent one in our friendship?” Louis laughs as he throws a handful of popcorn at Harry.
“I guess you’ve just rubbed off on me,” Harry smirks.
“Hmmm, maybe if your mum wasn’t two rooms over,“ Louis says mockingly.
Harry and Louis have always been close. After ten years of friendship it’s hard not to be. They tell each other everything and have spent more nights together than have alone. They had an actual party for the ten year anniversary of their friendship, with gifts and everything.
They’re that couple the one everyone says are ‘so gross’ but wants to be in. The kind of couple that is perpetually stuck in their honeymoon phase. The power couple.
Except, they're just friends. Totally platonic, except for maybe a few hands jobs back when they were younger and trying to figure out their sexualities. It didn't come as a surprise to anyone when they both came out.
Everyone thinks Louis and Harry are dating. It doesn't matter how many times they've said they aren't, the whole school sees them as #relationshipgoals. And even though neither Louis nor Harry have their soulmate tattoos just yet, everyone just assumes they will be.
Louis and Harry are content with the way their friendship is, they like being able to joke about anything ,but also tell each other their hopes and fears. They are confident and comfortable enough that it doesn't matter what other people say. Louis and Harry know where they stand so it doesn't matter what others think.
“So, are you getting excited? It could be any day now,” Harry says as he stretches his legs out just a bit.
“Course I am. Really nervous as well,” Louis replies as he stares at the TV.
“What's there to be nervous about? You're one step closer to finding your soulmate.”
“I don't know,” Louis sighs and brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “It's just kinda scary, I guess. I mean what if I don't like them?”
“Lou, I'm pretty sure that's the exact opposite of a soulmate.”
“You know what I mean. Everyone puts such an emphasis on finding your soulmate. And it doesn't help that the whole bloody school thinks that we are soulmates. I'm pretty sure our mums are planning the ceremony already.”
“I mean at least we won't have to worry about it,” Harry teases.
“Shut it, Harold.” Louis smacks Harry blindly, just barely grazing his feet. “It's just stressful, I feel like... I have to somehow live up to everyone's expectations. It's silly.” Louis waves his hand dismissively.
They fall quiet as the last few minutes of the film plays.
“It's not silly,” Harry says as the credits roll.
“Really?” Louis asks hopefully, looking at Harry.
“Yeah. I'm scared too, even though I won't get mine for like, over two years,” Harry replies, as he scooches closer to Louis. “It's like… you don't get a choice in who you end up with.”
“Exactly! It's like you meet this person before knowing anything about them, and you're expected to be with them. Just like that.”
“Some people do meet before they're eighteen though,” Harry points out.
“Yeah...”
“It'll be fine, Lou. I've never heard of two soulmates that aren't happy together.”
“I know, I know but still,” Louis sighs.
“Look, there's no reason to stress about it now. It could take years til you meet your soulmate. Having your tattoo appear doesn't mean you'll find them in like three days. Yeah?”
“Yeah, I guess you're right.” Louis sighs.
“Okay that's settled,” Harry says before getting up to take out the DVD. “What do you want to watch next? Footprints in the Sand or Mismatched?” Harry holds up the cases for both.
“Hmmm... I mean they're both cinematic masterpieces of our time.” Louis answers, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“You're a fucking idiot.”
“That's not very nice, Harold,” Louis says indignantly.
“Just choose.” Harry rolls his eyes.
“Fine then, Mr. Bossy, ummmm... Let's go with Mismatched.”
“Mismatched, it is then,” Harry says. He puts the DVD in and returns to his end of the couch.
They fall into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts.
---
“Will you please just look?” Louis practically begs.
“No,” Harry replies firmly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Please?” Louis pulls out the puppy eyes.
“Lou, no.”
“Pretty please?”
“I'm not looking at your ass,” Harry says exasperatedly.
There are still two days left until Louis’ birthday, and no tattoo, which means Louis is a nervous wreck. He's convinced that he'll be one of the rare people that never get tattoos, which Harry has had to talk Louis out of what seems like an infinite amount of times. Harry really wants to tear his hair out from the amount of secondhand anxiety Louis is giving him. He doesn't think he can handle another minute of this. Louis had invited Harry over to play FIFA, but just a few minutes into their first game Louis paused it to check for his tattoo. That was half an hour ago and they haven't unpaused the game yet.
“I would do it for you!” Louis exclaims.
“You do know that mirrors exist right?” Harry asks.
Louis looks at Harry in awe, as if the thought had never occurred to him, and runs off to the bathroom before Harry can say anything else. He's back in less than a minute with a defeated look on his face.
“Nothing,” he says disappointedly as he sits on the couch.
“Your birthday is in two days, you have time Lou.” Harry goes to put an arm around Louis’ shoulder, but Louis decides to lay downing his side, with his head in Harry's lap.
“But what if....” Louis starts.
“No What if’s,” Harry says seriously, carding his hand through Louis’ hair. “You are going to get your tattoo in less than 48 hours and then you can relax a little bit before you freak out about finding your soulmate.”
“Ha ha, you're so funny,” Louis says in a monotone voice.
“I just know you too well,” Harry teases.
Louis doesn't respond for a minute.
“Maybe it would be easier if we were soulmates,” Louis sighs.
“Maybe, but we aren't.”
“How do you know?” Louis rolls onto his back, looking up at Harry. Harry thinks about it for a second before answering.
“I don't. But I do know you're just making things up to make yourself feel better right now.”
“Yeah, probably,” Louis says dejectedly.
“You'll find your other half before too long. There's no need for you to settle for little old me.”
“You're a total catch. Whoever you end up with will be lucky.” Louis reaches up to pinch Harry's cheek.
“Thanks, Mum.”
“‘S true,” Louis shrugs, resting his hand against Harry's cheek despite the slightly awkward angle. “I think as your best friend of ten years I can say that.”
“You're such...” Harry stops when he sees a small black mark on Louis’ inner bicep that definitely wasn't there a few minutes ago.
“Haz?” Louis asks, clearly concerned.
“Lou, your arm!”
Louis does a double take when he sees the tattoo that wasn’t there a minute ago, and will now be with him forever.
“Holy shit!” Louis yells, sitting up and nearly hitting Harry in the face. “Fucking hell.” Louis can’t help, but run two fingers over the small mark.
“What does it say?” Harry asks.
“Oops!” Louis replies, almost reverently.
“It’s a bit vague.”
“Yeah,” Louis says distractedly, still running his fingers over it. He can’t tear his eyes away from it.
“Alright I’ll just leave you two alone then,” Harry says, as he goes to the front door and puts his coat on. Louis hums noncommittally. “Goodbye, then.”
“Bye.”
“Maybe forever,” Harry sighs dramatically. “I think I’m going to fulfill my lifelong dream of becoming a stripper for the circus.”
“‘kay. See ya, Hazza.”
Harry laughs to himself as he shuts the door without another word. He shivers slightly, it’s a bit chillier than it was when he left, but he doesn’t mind. He’s walked this path in much worse conditions than this over the course of ten years. He passes by the park where he first met Louis, and can’t help but smile. Harry is happy for his best friend, and knows how difficult it was for him to finally accept the whole soulmate thing.
“I’m home!” Harry yells into the house as he opens up the door and toes off his shoes.
“How’s Louis, dear?” his mum calls. Harry follows her voice into the kitchen where she’s making a cup of tea.
“Good,” he replies, leaning against the doorjamb. “Got his tattoo today.”
“Oooh, that’s exciting. What’s it say?” Anne asks distractedly as she puts a tea bag in the cup.
“Oops!”
Anne pauses for second before saying “That's interesting.”
“What is?”
“Oh, nothing I just had some time today and was going through some old photos. Lots of you and Louis. And I just remember you coming home from the park with bruises and scratches all over, but the biggest smile on your face and you told me word for word how you met Louis.”
And like lightning during a storm, the memory of that day immediately comes to the forefront of Harry's mind
The sun is shining for once, which is about all you can ask for in England, and there’s a warm breeze that brings some relief to the sweat clinging to Harry’s small body. The perfect day to practice.
He’s at the park down the street and he’s very excited because his mom finally let him come alone for once. He’s a big boy now at five years old, but right now in this park he needs to improve his footie skills. He's so clumsy, his mom says it’s just because he's growing but Harry’s not sure he believes her. It's hard to practice alone, but he doesn't really have that many friends and that's okay because he will one day. One day when he’s even bigger than he is right now, he’ll have the bestest friend ever. They’ll have matching tattoos, and they’ll play videogames all day long.
Harry starts kicking the ball down the grassy field, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in concentration, enjoying the rush of adrenaline that courses through his body. He's actually doing pretty well, he's gone about ten feet without falling on his face. He looks up from the ball towards the makeshift goal he made with his other pair of non-football shoes and sees a boy, about his age, standing in the middle of the goal. Harry’s so startled that he manages to trip over over the ball and the next thing he knows his mouth is full of dirt and grass.
Harry picks himself up slowly, he just sits on the ground, and he doesn't really want to cry in front of this stranger. Who is now standing in front of him.
"Oops!" Harry says.
"Hi," the boy says with an outstretched hand.
“Shit,” Harry breathes.