Take a Chill Pill - Assorted Be More Chill Stuff

Ink - Soulmate AU

Neither of them had ever drawn on their skin. Why would they? Jeremy was scared of ink poisoning, a stupid idea his dad had jokingly put in his head once. Michael just never bothered to write stuff down. He kept stuff in his head.

But man, was this class boring. Michael looked around for a piece of paper or something to draw on, but he'd been an idiot and forgotten his backpack that day. He turned to Jeremy.

"Dude, do you have a sticky note?" Michael whispered to his friend when the teacher's back was turned. Jeremy squinted at him.

"Why?"

"I'm bored and want to draw you a stupid picture."

"No. These are my notes, Michael. I want them to be clean and easy to read." Michael groaned.

"You know what? Fine. Give me your arm."

"What? Michael--" He grabbed his friend's arm and pushed up the sleeve of his sweater. In one swift motion, he pulled a sharpie from his pocket and uncapped it with his teeth. Before Jeremy could protest, the marker was dancing over his skin. Jeremy turned redder and redder as the mess of doodles grew. He didn't speak, though, too busy frantically taking notes on the lecture.

After class, Jeremy inspected his new tattoo.

"Dude, not cool." Michael gasped and pressed a hand over his heart, feigning offense.

"But I worked so hard on it! Admit it, bro. It's art."

"You drew Pac-Man in a maze of dicks."

"Art," Michael chuckled.

"What's my soulmate going to think?" Jeremy blushed with the realization. His eyes widened. Michael scoffed.

"You don't actually believe that, do you?" Jeremy blushed harder.

"But dude, what if?"

"Then they'll know you have a sense of humor. Chill out, bro."

When Michael got home, he threw off his signature sweatshirt and collapsed on the couch. He sat there for a few minutes, scrolling through his phone, when something caught his eye. He jumped and blinked a few times. He even tried taking off his glasses and cleaning them, but there was no denying it. Thick black lines were traced on his arm. He certainly hadn't drawn it. Not there, at least.

Pac-Man in a maze of dicks. A perfect copy of the ink on his best friend's arm. But that meant...

Shit.

He choked down butterflies in his stomach. Fear and hope made the weirdest cocktail. His best friend was his soulmate. So much for over a decade of denial. Breath hitching and hands shaking, Michael took out his sharpie and touched it to his skin.