𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐎 (𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒)

Soulmates troubles

Shisui x Kakashi, a smidgen of Fugaku x Minato: This was inspired by a fic by Ramabear, on Fanfiction.net, called Continually adapting to stay alive.

    Kakashi had never been one to draw on himself with a pen, or a utensil of any kind for that matter, but yet he found his hips, thighs and shins covered with the black ink markings of a pen. He pressed his thighs together firmly, so to read the words crawling across his skin like small caterpillars forming a chain of black lettering across sinewy muscle. Kakashi leaned in, brushing his hand over the careful writing that most definitely wasn't his own sloppy and disjointed handwriting.
"My aunt was giving me a history lesson on soulmates this afternoon, and she encouraged me to write to you, if you're even there,"
A soulmate?! Kakashi's eyes widened by a fraction of an inch, before quickly masking his expression, despite being the only living being in his apartment. This was of course, excluding his beloved plant, Mr. Ukki.
"So, I wrote to you. I hope this doesn't bother you, I mean, I don't really know who you are. You could be my aunt for all I know. Which would be a little weird honestly, but everyone's got that hot aunt right? And she's not technically my aunt, she's like my mother's cousin eight times removed. Anyway, I hope you have a good day. Or had. I don't really know. And I apologize if any of this bothers you, but that doesn't mean I'll stop. Unless you write me back saying to stop, I won't... Stop, that is"
    Kakashi blinked in surprise, taking a moment to absorb his obviously bubbly and over enthusiastic soulmate, who seemed nothing like the kind of person he pictured himself falling in love with, when he had dreamed so vivaciously. He quickly resolved that any soulmate of his, would be wholly better off without his baggage that he had strapped to his chest and shoulders with strings of fate so strong, one couldn't simply cut through them. So he continued to strip off the remainder of his clothing, and set off to his bathroom for a long scalding shower after his last grueling mission with his ANBU team.
    Shisui had never thought he had a soulmate. He thought soulmates only happened to the lucky few who could find true love. But, as it turns out, Soulmates were increasingly common, especially among shinobi above the age of 10. So Shisui wrote. The very first time it vanished, he was ecstatic. So he wrote, and he wrote every single day. A good morning wish, every time he got up at the crack of dawn to train his newly discovered Sharingan. A wish for a good day, everytime he was feeling down. He wasn't sure when the writing on his skin became a diary of his thoughts and everyday life, but soon he found himself writing spiraling paragraphs down his calves, and over his stomach, the words blurring into Shisui himself the longer and the more he wrote them. One day, he was feeling particularly lonely, so he reassured his Soulmate that they were not alone. He wrote the three most important words over and over again in whispering lines down his forearms, and continued until it snaked around his wrist, and over his hands on either arm, grateful for his ambidextrous gift.
    Kakashi had been slipping off his forearm guards for a shower in the ANBU Locker room. His gory mask, and blood splattered armor needing a serious cleaning. As he washes off dried blood, tacky on his pale arms, he notices the words curling around his forearm over and over again, spiraling until is coils around his wrist like a possessive snake. These three words repeated incessantly, and iteration of the mantra he has been told is the best medicine. Or is that laughter?
"Senpai, looks like you've got an admirer." Kakashi turns, to see the smiling face of Yamato greeting him as he steps out of the shower stall. Yamato is smiling, laughing at Kakashi and the words possessively scrawled around his wrists.
"Yeah, yeah. Talk all you want Yamato, you know you're just jealous." He says, in a light airy tone, suggesting indifference. Hiding the what little joy he finds in knowing someone cares. Shrugging on a light crewneck sweatshirt, Kakashi ties his sandals, and hurries on his way from the Black ops compound. But soon slows down, remembering what awaits him during slumber.
    Shisui was late. So so so late. His team captain was going to kill him. He had been held up watching Sasuke and had forgotten entirely about the ANBU meeting that he had to attend that afternoon. He was sprinting towards the compound, arms pumping as he went full sprint without using any chakra. Streaking across the concrete, he rushed passed a tall gray haired man. Tall, lean and muscular with one open chocolatey eye. Shisui instantly knew who he was. Hatake Kakashi. The Comrade Killer, Cold-blooded Kakashi, Son of the White Fang of the Leaf. He had to admit that he found the silver haired man attractive, but he was too busy to think about anything else but the meeting at the moment.
    Kakashi smelled the boy before he saw him, thanks to his Inuzuka mother's nose, a fragrant and enticing mix of pine, wind, and something distinctly Uchiha. A flash of pale skin, black curly hair, and red eyes bolted past him faster than any normal Shinobi could flat out sprint. Kakashi placed his scent and features in an instant. Shunshin No Shisui, the fastest Uchiha, son of Kagami, the youngest to ever acquire the Mangekyo Sharingan. Kakashi secretly liked the boys smell, he found himself inching closer at every ANBU meeting. Yearning to bury his face into the pale skin and really smell him, really feel him. But the boy was twenty, and he was twenty four. Plus they were both male, not exactly something the Uchiha clan encourages. Since no one he knew was a mind reader, he supposed he was safe to internally eye the boy from a distance. Despite how perverted that may make him, he was only human and when someone looks like Shisui Uchiha, you can't blame the person having perverted thoughts about such a specimen. Even if he is four years younger than said person and male.
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