Falsettos Oneshots

Flames//Homosexuals

Soulmate AU in which if you do anything to your skin, it'll appear on your soulmate in the same place (cuts, burns, writing, etc)

Light Trigger Warning

Marvin had known who his soulmate was the day he'd heard of Whizzer Brown. In fact, the boy made it painfully obvious-not that it was his fault. It wasn't the buzz or the shock that came with meeting your soulmate, no, for Marvin hadn't actually had the pleasure of actually holding a conversation with the boy just yet. What had really made him come to the realization, the red exclamation points at the end of it all, were the marks.

Everybody in the entire neighborhood knew about Whizzer Brown and his horrid addiction to fire. Hell, you could walk by almost anywhere and hear parents talking about the kid. The sad part was that not only did they know what he was doing, they knew why he was doing it, too, and not one person actually cared enough to step in and try to help. No, instead, they all watched and gossiped as the boy's hands and arms became littered with more and more burns each passing day, saying things like "this boy's a wreck!", and "god, how awful!", but did any of them really give a shit? Not in the slightest.

The only person who really, genuinely cared, was Marvin: the boy's soulmate. Marvin felt awful, having to keep moving on with his life as this boy continued to scorch himself with whatever the hell he was using. Everybody else only saw the burns on the boy's hands and arms, but Marvin saw them everywhere, because they were, in fact, everywhere. There were burns on his stomach, on his legs, on his ankles, on his knees, around his collar-bone. Not only did they hurt, fuck, they hurt like hell, but he couldn't wear anything beside long-sleeved shirts in public or people would assume him crazy. Marvin found himself wondering constantly how anybody could live how he'd been living. It started years ago, and it hadn't gotten better whatsoever. There were so many burns and burn-scars, and on hot days the newer ones would stick to his shirt and he'd have to rip the fabric away from them, and they often got infected.

Every day, Marvin would try so incredibly hard to work up the balls to talk to Whizzer, and every day, Marvin would fail miserably to do such. He was worried. He didn't even know the boy, and the thought of him doing this to himself made him want to cry. After figuring out they were soulmates, Marvin had watched Whizzer closer (not creepy-close, just things like paying more attention to the boy in the hallways and such), and he seemed... perfect. He moved and acted with a certain sort of elegance that intrigued Marvin. Nobody was nice to him, but he still managed to go about his day with a genuine smile. Why he was smiling under his circumstances, Marvin couldn't even try to guess, but he somehow found it saddening.

One day, in the library during lunch, Whizzer came up to Marvin while he was working on a project, dressed in his red and yellow football jacket (he wasn't on the team, he'd just liked how it looked and bought it) and black skinny jeans. He just stood there for a couple of seconds, looking down at him with a pained expression. Marvin looked up at him, and they met eye-contact.

"I am so fucking sorry." He said, sitting down across from Marvin, who blushed, looking down.

"What?"

"Can I see 'em?" Whizzer asked, and only then did Marvin realize what the boy was apologizing for. Slowly, he nodded, handing Whizzer his arm. Whizzer gently pulled up Marvin's sleeve, looking down at all of the burns, all of his burns, with glassy eyes. "I am so, so sorry. This must be awful. And I've been doing it for so long, I- you knew. Why didn't you say something?" He asked, and Marvin's eyes began to burn. He had no idea how to respond, so he just shrugged. "I didn't think I even had a soulmate." They sat in silence for a while.

"I didn't know how to tell you." Marvin said, speaking up for the first time in a couple of minutes. Whizzer nodded,

"Well, you should have. Those hurt like a bitch, I wouldn't put anybody else through that if I'd known."

"Then why do you do it?" Marvin asked, and Whizzer thought for a minute. No, he didn't really know the boy very well, but with all the years of practical torture he'd put the boy through, an explanation was the least he could give. Plus, they were soulmates. If they were bound together by the universe, Whizzer could put a little bit of trust on the table.

"I'm always so pissed off at everything, especially myself, and it just feels a little better to know that I have a little control on what I feel. That was how it started, anyways. I guess it just became normal, you know? Everybody got used to Whizzer, the kid who burns himself." He explained, looking down. "But, I- I can stop. I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Marvin was extremely relieved that Whizzer was going to try and stop. For both Whizzer's sake, and his. "Um, I'm-"

"Marvin. Yeah, I know."

"How'd you find out?" Marvin asked.

"What, your name?"

"No, um- The whole soulmate thing." Marv

"I noticed them on your hands." Whizzer said, carefully reaching over the table to take both of Marvin's hands, enclosing their fingers together. Marvin couldn't explain it, but something about it just felt...right. He exhaled, letting his shoulders relax, and Whizzer smiled softly, heat rising to his cheeks. "I know we just met, but, damn would it be nice to let me love you eventually." He said, and Marvin smiled.

"I think I'm already falling." He blurted, looking into his soulmate's eyes, and Whizzer laughed.

"Good. Now I know you'll say yes if I ask you out." 

"Are you going to?"

"Maybe." Whizzer said with a smirk, getting up from his chair with a wink and moving to walk away.

"Wait!" Marvin cried out, standing up. Whizzer turned around, confusion on his face "Do you have a lighter?" Whizzer bit his lip, reaching into his pocket and pausing for a second before dropping the object in Marvin's hand.

"Thank you." Whizzer said, and Marvin nodded, pocketing the lighter as he watched Whizzer leave the library. He just stood there, staring down at the burns on his hands. He remembered himself, a couple of years ago, so pissed off at Whizzer for doing this to him, for putting him in so much pain. Now that they'd talked it out, he couldn't find an ounce of anger left inside of him, for all of it had been replaced with fondness, and, well, maybe even love.

He was determined to help Whizzer get better.

Quickly, he grabbed a pen, quickly drawing a tiny heart on his wrist. A feeling of warmth surged through him, and he knew the boy had seen it.