Mark My Words

1.

When Lance had come aboard the spaceship, he hadn't even thought about what would happen to his soulmate.

But now that Hunk had voiced his own concerns, Lance became painfully aware of the mark on his leg. He was, like almost everyone, born with it, and it had grown along with him, stretching in tandem with his tanned skin, like a birth mark.

A faint "fuck you" imprinted on his inner leg.

He had been mercilessly teased for it. The fact that his soulmate's first words to him would be "fuck you" made him both wanna laugh and cry.

The thing is...over the years, many people had said that to him. He knew he could get on people's nerves, and, when he did, they sometimes gave him that less than articulated response. Especially his siblings. When in lack of a comeback just tell people to go fuck themselves, and all is right with the world.

So, as time went by, he kind of just tried to forget the words marking his body - and their importance.

Lance liked to live in the moment, and he believed that what was meant to be, would be.

But now...now he was in space - who knows how far away from Earth at this point - and had no idea of when he would come back, if he ever did.

He couldn't help but think about it.

What words were marked on his soulmate's skin? How did they feel about them? Were they looking for him? How were they doing? Were they drinking enough water? Had Lance already met them? If not, would he ever?

Not everyone ended up with their soulmates. Some people didn't even have soulmates, and they were okay with that. There were as many sad stories out there as there were happy ones. Some people simply found solace and love in someone else. Other people searched forever.

Maybe one of those two would be his case.

"Do you think we can be soulmates with aliens? They have marks too, right?" Hunk continued. "Maybe...maybe our soulmates are in the ship!" He gasped. "Lance! What if we're soulmates?!"

Lance snorted. "Like you ever cussed someone out in your life."

"Oh...right. And what if-"

"I don't know, Hunk. What happens, happens. I think we'll be fine."

He didn't think they'd be fine. Despite never having put too much thought into it, Lance would like to one day meet his soulmate. And all of this space thing just seemed to make it a lot harder.

He used to abuse the art of pick-up lines, which increased his chances of getting a "fuck you" as a response. If he did, he could feed on the hopes that, maybe, he had just met his soulmate.

Deep within him, he knew it didn't make sense since the person would probably recognize the line, but it still gave him that little bit of hope. Even if he always ended up disappointed.

It would be nice meeting his soulmate, but he had a gut feeling that he either already had or never would.

"I mean...my mark says 'nor are you'. Isn't that pretty weird? It's so unusual! I wonder what they're like..."

"Yeah...I wonder what mine is like, too..."

Keith entered the room, his attentive, violet eyes looking around.

"Oh, hey Mullet." Lance greeted, smiling lazily.

Keith rolled his eyes. "Fuck you, Lance."

"I know you wanna." Lance winked. "Oh, come on, I was trying to be nice!" He laughed when Keith glared at him.