Work Text:
William loved art, he did. He spent hours to days on end in his room, painting and drawing in his own world of color and imagination until his friends pounded down his door to remind him that a world outside his canvases and sketchbooks existed. His apartment was full of drawings and paintings, everything ranging from floral abstract flowing patterns to charcoal portraits of people he saw on the streets when he left to either shop for supplies or needed inspiration. He often drew on himself, sometimes out of boredom, others because he was forgetful, and others because he fantasized about tattooing himself with beautiful patterns and turning himself into a wonderful canvas for his own work. He knew he wouldn’t be able to commit to something like that, let alone be able to stand being around needles for more time than was absolutely necessary, but he allowed himself to dream.
Sometimes he wondered if his soulmate, whoever they were, enjoyed his drawings. He knew some people hated the random lines appearing on their skin and found them a nuisance, but he also knew for others, it was their favorite part of their day. William was a semi-successful artist, he could say that with pride since the money from his work kept him mostly afloat, although it was aided by the fact that he ran errands for his elderly neighbors who paid him nicely for his troubles. He just hoped his soulmate enjoyed his drawings. Sometimes he replicated his work onto his skin, hoping by some twist of fate his soulmate would see his work online or at an exhibit of his and find him somehow, but he knew it was a long shot.
He knew some people never found their soulmate, and some found their soulmate when they were children. Some didn’t even have a soulmate, and William knew he wasn’t one of those people. His soulmate was odd, sometimes he’d wake up with odd phrases on the back of his hand like ‘kick Nate’s ass at 5’ or ‘Vicky T is evil’, sometimes, he’d even have huge cartoonish dicks drawn on him, which would make him laugh before he put on a sweater to hide the drawings, although sometimes he’d use his abilities to his advantage and turn them into beautiful flowers or a silly face.
He sighed and stretched, looking at the piece he’d been working on as he was lost in thought. It was another landscape of the view from his apartment, a view he’d memorized after so many hours of looking out of the window lost in thought. He smiled as he looked at it, it was a part of a series of sketches he was doing of everyday sights and views for him. His friends said it was creepy that he was letting the people that liked his work into his life like that, but William didn’t care. His art was personal, and he wanted to keep it that way. He liked having a sense of intimacy and emotion in his art, he felt like that was the whole purpose of it.
Admittedly, there was an ulterior motive behind this idea. He would transfer his sketches to his arms or legs using a pen. He hoped one day his soulmate could find him by using his sketches, but he knew it was a longshot, he didn’t even know if his soulmate lived in his same city, let alone state or country. He shook off the negative thoughts, setting about transferring his newest drawing to his arm. Sometimes, he worried about ink poisoning or cancer, but he didn’t care most of the time, he loved what he did, no matter when happened to him. He knew he probably couldn’t afford a hospital trip, but as most people are, he thought that it couldn’t happen to him.
He smiled as he looked at his finished product. It wasn’t his best due to the fact that skin presented more of a challenge to him than paper or canvas, but he was still proud of it. He got up, walking to the sink to wash off his ink and lead smeared hands so he wouldn’t get stains on anything else of his, and looked at the clock. It was late, about one in the morning, so William decided to go to sleep. That night, curled up in his blankets, he dreamt of soulmates, charcoal, and beautiful flower beds.
The next morning, William woke up groggy and horrible. He decided to go to the local coffee shop near him, throwing on a blue v neck and pair of skinny jeans, walking out into the warm late Spring Chicago sunshine.
He arrived at the coffee shop, smiling at the familiar barista, Hayley, her name was. William wasn’t sure. He walked up to the counter, smiling slightly wider as she returned the gesture. “Hey there, what can I get you today?” she chirped.
“Just a black coffee,” He replied, reaching for his wallet. “Fuck,” he muttered, realizing he left his wallet at his apartment in his groggy state. “Scratch that, I forgot my wallet, sorry.” He said, embarrassment burning hot in his cheeks.
“No problem,” she smiled, leaning back away from the counter.
“Not so fast, I’ll pay for it,” an unfamiliar voice said from behind William. William turned around and was greeted by a tall, seeming latino man clad in a leather jacket and sunglasses.
“Oh no no, I couldn’t accept that,” William said, humbled by the man’s kindness.
“No, really it’s fine,” The man replied, sliding the barista a five dollar bill. “Make that two,” He told her, flashing her a smile. “My only condition is that you give me a bit of your time and sit with me.”
William almost groaned out loud, he met a nice person and they turn out to be a total fuckboy, great. “Sure,” he said, not wanting to be rude and hoping his assumption was wrong. The stranger hummed in response, grabbing both their coffees from the barista with a smile. He led William to a table near the window, pulling out William’s chair and bowing dramatically, causing William to giggle. The stranger took the seat across from him, finally taking off his sunglasses and taking a sip of his coffee.
“I’m Gabe,” he said, finally revealing his name.
“William,” he said, smiling at Gabe. “So,” he said, raising an eyebrow at Gabe. “What enchanted you so much about me that you decided you just had to have me sit with you?” he asked, surprised by his own boldness.
“That,” Gabe responded, pointing to William’s exposed arm, his eyes resting on the drawing. William felt his heart speed up, maybe this could be his soulmate? No, it couldn’t be.
“Really?” he said, trying not to reveal his excitement.
“Really,” Gabe said, sliding off his jacket.
William’s eyes went wide, and he could have sworn he felt his heart stop in that moment. He saw his drawing on Gabe’s arm, and exact replica. He then noticed the tattoos that crept up the neckline of his low t-shirt, spiraling black patterns and tiny planets, and he recognized those drawings as his own. Gabe had turned himself into a canvas of William’s work . William looked Gabe in the eyes, wanting with all his being for Gabe to be his soulmate.
“Are you… it?” William asked, his voice shaking. Gabe nodded, a smile exploding on his face.
“Yes, I am,” Gabe replied, delicately taking William’s shaking hand. William pointed at Gabe’s shirt collar, gulping.
“I want to see them.”
That night, Gabe and William found out everything about each other, the curves and edges of their bodies, the things they loved and things they hated, the hobbies and jobs they held, everything. Neither of them had ever felt this connected to another being, and they both loved it. And that night, William traced Gabe’s tattoos and allowed him to become Gabe’s canvas in the same way Gabe had become his.