A/N: Due to language censorship on this page, even on M - Mature stories, I had to adjust the language. Learning from me, for use in RL, is not recommended. I hope they communicate the mood, regardless.

WARNINGS: Homoer.otic boy-to-boy love story, destiny, school. Not so many triggers.

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Deckface - The Ink on TOP and TaeYang's Skin

 

The soulmate thing .

As whispers and quiet snickers spread throughout the classroom, Yeongbae regretted, for the thousandth time, not begging the teacher for a seat a little less central to the room. As a ten-year-old almost-teen, he had dreaded zits, a dysfunctional voice, and entering the daunting stage of High School. He hadn't thought twice about his ink-mate, or how his skin would copy any and all marks on his mate's skin, so long as they were made with ink. Who knew his ink-mate would be such a bloody pain?

Yeongbae waited until the bell, before swiftly moving to the bathroom to take in the day's design. A big flower, a big, full-on, kindergarten design flower, complete with long, rounded petals, and a big round core, covered his forehead. For a second, he really wanted his emo-bangs back, but he shook it off quickly. So what if he had a flower on his forehead? At least they weren't... ia... this time... That had been one awkward moment in the locker room.

 

The flower was gone by the time school finished, though not entirely painlessly.

"Is it true?" his best friend since third day of high school, Kwon Jiyoung, asked, "Did you grow flowers today?"

"Oh, yes," Yeongbae replied, "This is the real life flower boy you're looking at." 

Jiyoung was clearly fighting himself.

"Just another blossoming youth, in the spring of his life."

The smirk was twitching. Any moment now.

"I'm positively blooming-"

Yes. Jiyoung cracked up. Mission points. Yeongbae knew he was funny. It wasn't often others recognized this, but he could always count on Jiyoung to crumble. That's what best friends were for.

 

"Move?! What do you mean, "Move"?!" This was the worst. Ever.

Mother had changed jobs every few years since Yeogbae was a child. She always grew bored after a year or two. Except that time she kept the books for that small firm, but then the firm collapsed due to bad management, and she was back in the cycle. Mother wasn't a freeloader, or undeducated, or anything bad. She even trained her own replacements, very tidy like, and made sure to sign a new contract before leaving. She never went without work for long, but they'd never had to move before.

"Baebae, please calm down." she said, softly patting the sofa, next to her. He sat down, and she took his hands. Her hands seemed smaller than he was used to, but then... he was growing... The thought sapped him some, and he sat back, trying to listen to his lone guardian. "I know it's hard. It's a long way away. Your friends won't be seeing you for a while. You'll change schools." She cocked her head, and he knew she was coming to the good side. "But it's only a trainride away, and once we settle in, your friends can easily visit on a weekend. The new school has a really good reputation, and, Baebae," Her eyes were moist and full of hope, "The job pays well, really well."

"How well?" he asked, before he could stop himself. Woops. Rude.

"Well," she dragged out, eyes sparkling, "I might be able to buy you that new computer in another couple of months." She had him, hook, line, and sinker.

"Where will Jiyoung sleep? Are we getting a guest room?" he asked, holding out.

"Well, no." Mother replied, "In the choice between a guestroom and bigger bedrooms, I'm afraid I might have picked the bigger bedrooms. You're getting a roll-out bunk bed under your mattress. The furniture is on the way, and will be fully mounted by the time we get there, on the fifteenth." She looked proud. Probably took a lot of planning.

"Cool."

 

"Try not to die."

Yeongbae read the text over again, snorted, looked up at his new school. "Yeah, I'll try," he mumbled under his breath, pocketing his phone.

Casually strolling through the gates, between hordes of his new schoolmates, confident in his new clothes, he felt hopeful. Checking the time so see how early he was, he reached for his cellphone, but, as his hand left his pocket, he saw black lines spreading across the back of his hand, and he coudn't care less about office hours and first days. He stuffed his hand down his trouser pocket, and walked swiftly in search of a bathroom. It took a while.

 

After realizing  the lines were not vanishing, nor could they be scrubbed off (but he knew that already. Why did he even bother trying...) he arrived at the right offices, late, and was escorted to his new classroom, late, and in the middle of introducing himself, forgot he was marked, and begun writing his name on the board.

Quiet giggles spread across the room behind him, and his ears burned.

As he turned back around, the teacher made some hob-knob, pedagogical observation on the "soulmate connection" and puberty, but Yeongbae found himself staring into a wide pair of eyes, at the back of the room. A quick glance showed black lines on a hand clenched tight around a pen, artsy ring on the middle finger. Absently walking to his assigned seat, Yeongbae took in the sheer reality laid clear before him:

His ink-mate was male.

 

Class was a challenge, the spinning gears of his mind shrieking loudly under the pressure of revelations, and Yeongbae found himself sneaking peaks backwards, checking out his destined match. He was tall, a little on the heavy side. Clear eyes. Thin lips. Monkey ears. Cute monkey ears. Very, very, - the teacher asked the guy a question, and he replied in a pretty dark voice - very male. 

Eyes front, Yeongbae steeled himself, trying to pay attention to class, but the sound of that voice resounded in his ears.

 

Not everyone had a soulmate. At least, not an ink-mate. Sometimes, one party died before puberty, other times before the two could meet. Sometimes they would meet, but death would strike a half anyway, and life moved on. Sometimes, ink-mates fought and failed to solve their problems, splitting up, finding new lives with others. There were no guarantees.

But immediate attraction was a thing, and the chances of staying together for life were eight times higher than for other couples. Rumours said happiness was never higher than the happiness one felt with their inkmate.

Never had Yeongbae paused to question his se xuality, though.

His mom dated. He knew that. At least once, it had to have been a guy. They were biological mother and son. She had made him. Besides, there were pictures. Yeongbae's father disappeared when he was three. Probably dead, but no one wanted to tell him when he was five, six, or seven years old, so he made his own stories about it.

Yeongbae had seen the movies. He had felt himself respond, and he'd had his wet dreams and morning bread, but now that he really tried to think about it, he couldn't remember who he usually responded to. But for some reason, he had expected his ink-mate to be a girl, a woman. Maybe too many straight movies? Most of his vide games had straight couple stories, too, now that he thought about it, and he really only watched the easily accessible straight couple special movies, too. Too lazy to dig, and a little scared of his mom or a friend borrowing his computer and seeing strange auto-finish suggestions on google. He knew about se xualities and feti shes and all that jazz, but mostly by accident. He never imagined any of that would actually apply to him, in real life.

Yeongbae suddenly found he couldn't wait to receive his new computer. Then he could donate his own to household common use, and have his Google all to himself. Maybe. Hopefully.

 

By the end of class, Yeongbae had gathered his wits close enough to catch the final messages about the next lesson, and felt an echo of that morning's confidence returning. He also felt eyes burning into his back, and packed his things for the next lesson in measured motions, trying not to rush visibly.

He made it out of the classroom without being approached, and he didn't return until the teacher was nearly at the door, slipping in ahead of the only adult headed for that door. Keeping his head down, Yeongbae wasn't sure whether he was being watched or not as he weaved his way to his seat by the window. As the teacher started class, and droned on, Yeongbae could feel the classoom focus buzzing, settling between his ears, as he opened a notebook and started his notes.

About fifteen minutes in, his second hand drew his eye, as words appeared in blue.

"Hi"

Snort. He couldn't hold it, and he was sorry right away, as he held back the following laughter. He wrote "hi" back.

"Disappointed?"

The question mark looked funny. Yeongbae pretended frustration, and sneeked a peak back at the tall guy. The guy had his pen on his notebook, but Yeongbae caught him glancing at his other hand, anxiously awaiting his answer. 

"Not really," Yeongbae wrote, "Your name?" His words sounded short, but he had an urge to leave as much open space as possible. It was possibly the third greatest adventure of his life, and the teacher was really droning on like a meditation recording. He didn't want the conversation to end.

Glancing back, messing with his fringe, he saw a sparkle in the tall guy's eyes, and for some reason his bottom lip was sort of smiley-pouty. Intriguing. As the guy turned his pen from the notebook to  his hand, Yeongbae looked down at every syllable as it appeared;

"Choi Seung Hyun

Lunch?"

 

He walked over while Yeongbae was still packing, leaning on the desk next to his, arms casual, sneakers white and puffy. Yeongbae felt his heart beating like first day of school, back when he was a little kid, worried about making friends. Maybe the soulmate thing wasn't sensual?

Then he stood from his chair, things put in places. Choi Senghyun straightened from leaning on the desk, and they were so close. Yeongbae took a deep breath, and the smell of human would probably etch itself into his brain until the end of time. A cough, a turn, and he was walking slowly, cooly towards the door, heading for what he thought was the direction of the cafeteria, slowing down as much as he dared, taking directions from where Choi Seunghyun walked.

"I didn't bring a lunchbox." It slipped out of him before he could process it. Just in case Choi Seunghyun was heading for those doors, to the outside.

Choi Seunghyun turned his head, distracted. "Me neither."

"I hope there's something good here." Yeongbae found he wanted to keep the conversation going.

Choi Seunhyun promised there were a few good things, then started on all the other good things about the new school, finishing the list with "and then there's me, of course!" and Yeongbae couldn't agree more, though not out loud. He just nodded at the floor, holding back a smile. He liked this confidence thing. It worked.

 

"...oh, and then there's the "Molotow", which has a pretty nice dancefloor, just don't ask for cocktails." They had finished their food, and Seunghyun was in the middle of enthusing about after school opportunities in the area. Yeongbae could sense a joke, but he jumped into it anyway.

"Why not?" he smirked.

Seunghyun's face turned serious.

"They take the name seriously." he said, voice trembling with bass.

It took him a moment to connect the dots, but just as Seunghyun raised an eyebrow, it clicked, and Yeongbae had to fight himself to keep from spitting water at the guy.

"Are you serious?!" he laughed.

Seunghyun was smiling.

"They do take the name seriously. The only have one drink, and it's literally a tumbler of vodka, set on fire."

"But no boom?"

"Nah, no boom."

The bell rang. They ran for class, and the next thing they wrote, were phone numbers.

 

"So, you wanna check it out?"

"Check what out?"

"The Molotown"

"Sure"

 

The entrance looked like a french bakery cafe, with outside tables, surrounded by a white picket fence, but instead of the bakery entrance up a few steps, Seunghyun led them down a few steps to a door in the base wall. "They" were Yeongbae and two friends of Seunghyun's, a "Dae Dae" he'd forgotten the name of and little Seungri who "wasn't supposed to drink anything, so watch out for him."

They walked through a seemingly old, wooden door, down a short hallway to a second door, and down a stair before even making it to the wardrobe. As they left their jackets, Yeongbae felt the bass of a nice sound system, and rays of blue light shone from around a corner. Soon they were walking into a colourful mix of strobelights, to a sweet beat, covered in pieces of pop music bridges, and Yeongbae could feel his body settling in to the music.

"Dae Dae", who might be in his class, actually, moved along opposite him, and soon four new bodies were pumping it out on the busy dancefloor. The mood was high, and Yeongbae felt intoxicated from the mood. The beer on the road might not have been so innocent, either. He rolled his hips to the music, and suddenly he had space. With no hesitation or any reservation, he took it up, and proved his title as dance-off competitor number 1 of his district. Of course, that was before he moved. He had a reputation to build.

No one crowded him for a while, until he himself grew tired and slowed down, joining the edge of the circle that had formed, looking for his new friends and something to drink.

 

 

That monday, he could still feel the excitement from that dancefloor, and turned into the classroom with a small grin on his face. Naturally seeking out Seunghyun's face first, he noticed "Dae Dae" sitting next to his new bestie, with... a pen... in his hand... Yeongbae looked his doom in its vile grin, and could almost feel the pumpkin materialising on his cheek, as "Dae Dae" worked his artistic (lack of) talent on a distracted, carefree Choi Seunghyun.

What's a teenage boy to do, when his face is turned into an involuntary piece of art?

The bell rang before he could act, and the dreaded sound of the door shutting behind their teacher sent him lumbering to his seat. His phone vibrated, but he was too busy planning evil to pick it out of his pocket. Then his hand exhibited a sudden case of the stripes, as Seunghyun wrote to him:

"Bad morning?"

Yeongbae faked frustration, and quietly turned his head to Seunghyun, showing him the pumpkin. Seunghyun's eyes widened, and he reached up to touch his own cheek, absentmindedly rubbing it. As a result, the lines blurred, creating an increasingly scary pumpkin. Yeongbae was glad he didn't have a mirror available. He suspected the thing looked a little worse on his less perfect facial features.

Messaging was put on hold for that lesson, as Seunghyun had a quiet paper showdown with his neighbour.

 

"Daesung says he's kinda sorry." "He says he'll draw on himself from now on." "He would like to apologize during lunch." "Can he apologize during lunch?"

"Sure, let's eat."

 

"So... how long have you...?"

"Received the drawings?"

Daesung nodded sheepishly.

"Since the di cks." Yeongbae could tell the two were struggling not to laugh. They were looking very remorseful, except for the twitching mouths and occassional puffs of suppressed laughter. He released them with a small laugh of his own, and soon the trio had heads turning from across the room to find out what the fun was. It was a little funny. From a distance. After a long time.

 

 

"Jiyoung is coming?" Seunghyun asked, as they were walking home from school. As it turned out, they were living on the same quarter, two buildings apart. They were moderately familiar with each other's living rooms by now, though there was an awkwardness to the idea of being in a bedroom together. Even though nothing had happened, not even a kiss, the whole soulmate thing hung over them like a shadow, whispering sweet words and nightmares. Yeongbae kept thinking about the inkmate marriage statistics, for some reason, and the way it felt when Seunghyun let go of his hand after pulling him somewhere. He would do that, pulling at his hand, while pointing at something interesting, or when he would make an unexpected turn on the road home to visit a shop or a garden or whatever.

"Yes, tomorrow morning." Yeongbae replied, dragging his wayward thoughts of his new friend to his old best mate. Kwon Jiyoung had finally found the time to drop by for a weekend, not to mention the money to buy a train ticket without borrowing from his parents, and Yeongbae found he really missed his friend.

"We should have a party get-together." Seunghyun said, and Yeongbae nodded.

"Your place." he said.

"...your treat?" Seunghyun bargained. He knew the reason Yeongbae wanted to use his place had everything to do with Daesung and his ability to spill every drink everywhere.

"Fifty-fifty?" Yeongbae wheedled.

Seunghyun sighed and accepted his fate.

 

 

"New face!" Daehyun sang, as five moderately drunk teenagers jumped around the table in Seunghyun's apartment. "I would like... A NEW FACE!" Daehyun put his hands around Jiyoung's face, as the two sang at each other in drunken voices.

As the song ended, they all fell into the sofa or sank to the floor. Yeongbae sat on the floor, and let his head drop down on Seunghyun's knee, at the edge of the sofa. He felt a hand absently running through his hair, and fell into a blissful trance, eyes closed, oblivious to the world.

Jiyoung barely noticed his friend's comfort, as Daehyun's arm over his shoulders made it difficult to sit up straight on the sofa, though Daehyun sat right next to him on top of the thing, and Jiyoung was not all that tall, but Dahyun was buzy playing rock-paper-scissor with Seungri on the floor, and every time he won, he leaned forward to place another ink drawing on Seungri's skin, laughing manically.

He won a lot, but finally Seungri got his chance with the pen. He took it, and after hearing all of Yeongbae's horror stories about sudden drawings in visible places, often with awful timing, like that time his chest and face were covered with di cks as he showered after a Physica Education class, Seungri felt inspired. He took his pen to Daesung's face, and started drawing an elaborate cat's face across Daesung's features. A circle on the tip of his nose, whiskers beaneath his eyes, a cat's mouth on his chin, below his own, and pretty, little spots all across his forehead. As he finished with the spots, Seungri felt drowsy, and the last spot turned into a tiger stripe, as he sunk to the floor, sleepy.

As Daesung turned around to smile at Seunghyun, Seunghyun was looking at the head resting on his lap. And Jiyoung was looking back at Daesung with a smile, a laugh, and a pointing finger. And he had a cat's face. With a tigerstripe down one side.

Daesung took his hand and dragged him to the bathroom to show him.

Seungri turned over on the floor, deeply asleep.

Seunghyun pulled his fingers through soft, black hair, as he contemplated kissing the adorable cheek closest to him. Again, he convinced himself to hold back. Again, he let the urge alone, fingers brushing through the hair of an oblivious young man, sending him all sorts of soulmate related dreams.