Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just borrowing Arakawa-sensei's characters for a little while.
Prompt: Day 4. Soulmate AU.
A.N.: Yeah, another Greed/Al thing. I warned you, it's one of my all-time favorite pairings xD;;
All character designs are referenced from Brotherhood this time.
I was wandering the internet and stumbled upon a 'what if' scenario where soulmates find each other through writing on each other's skin. Hence, this is my take on that kind of setup.
In addition to being a soulmate AU, it's also gonna be a modern AU, simply because that works better for this setup in my mind.
By the way; Al is... I wanna say 20 in this? And Greed is his usual homunculus self, of course xD;
Also; I apologize ahead of time if anyone's OOC at all.
Alphonse had been working at the Rockbell family's mechanic shop as of late. He'd been helping Winry with some automail prototype designs earlier, but he'd needed a break.
It was when Winry caught sight of him with his sleeves rolled up that she noticed something was off.
"Al, what's that on your arm?" She pointed towards one of his elbows.
"Hm?" He looked at her in confusion before shifting to look at his arm, only to find a little flower-looking shape doodled on his skin. "...what on earth...? Okay... so that's what was tickling earlier?"
"What're you talking about?" Winry raised a brow at him.
He blinked at her briefly. "...I felt a weird tickle on my arm earlier when we were working... but I ignored it to the best of my ability in favor of finishing."
"Boy, how I love that Elric determination," she replied. "So you're telling me... this appeared out of nowhere?"
"As far as I'm aware. You know I don't draw on myself."
Her expression showed skepticism. "All right... but if you didn't draw that, then where did it come from?"
"That's a very good question... one for which I don't currently have an answer."
"If Ed was here..." she started.
"I know, but he isn't, so he can't have anything to do with it." Al looked over the drawing again, musing, "I wonder how it got here?"
Winry shrugged at that. "No clue... but come on; go eat. We have work to get back to."
He chuckled. "Yes, ma'am!"
"It's weird when you call me 'ma'am.'"
"It's weird for me to say it."
They shared a grin.
That same day, the owner of a tattoo parlor called "The Devil's Nest" was free of clients, and as such, was bored nearly out of his mind.
"Damnit. No one's gonna come in; I want to go out and do something," he said, half-glaring out the front window from his chair.
Martel threw a soda bottle at his head.
"Ow!"
"Oh, come on." Martel rested a hand on her hip. "That didn't hurt."
He pouted at her. "You're so cruel to me."
"Yet you keep me around, so what does that say about you?"
"I'm desperate...?"
"A well-known fact." She nodded.
Dolcetto entered the room at this point. "If you're so bored, why not go on a walk around town or somethin', boss?"
Greed shrugged. "I guess there's no reason why I can't... I'll hear if there's a customer, yeah?" He stood, grabbing the bottle Martel had thrown at him.
"Duh." Martel took a swig from her own soda.
"See ya, oh Queen of Sarcasm," Greed said with a half-assed wave. "Pass it on to Roa and Bido, will ya, Dolcetto?"
"Sure."
A few weeks had passed. Some more doodles, as well as some words, continued appearing on Al's skin as time went by. They would show up at random times and in random places...
...and Al was getting sick of it.
This time, he'd awoken from a much needed nap to find his right arm tingling. When he went to check, what he found surprised him. There, on the upper half of his right arm, was a surprisingly detailed drawing of an anthropomorphic lion with a long mane, dressed like a Victorian English-era undertaker, poised like he was dancing and laughing.
Al growled under his breath as he headed for the bathroom. Not to wash the drawing away — as he'd found out early on that he couldn't get rid of them that easily — but simply because nature was calling.
It was supposed to be his day off, damnit, and while Al was normally a very patient person, this had been going on with no explanation for longer than he could tolerate.
Unfortunately, before he could set off to find this doodling menace, Winry called to ask him to come in at the last minute.
"I'm sorry to bother you on your day off, Al, but I need your help with a small set of emergency repairs to a client's leg."
Al sighed. "It's alright, Winry... I'll be there soon."
"Thank you! You're the best, Al."
"No problem."
The issue with the client's leg turned out to be easily fixable, especially considering there were two engineers to collaborate.
There was, however, a new problem: whoever the doodler was, they'd apparently not had enough sense to grab a piece of paper to go with the pen, because while Al was working, a grocery list tickled its way onto his left palm.
Al returned from washing his hands of oil, saying, "All right... now if you'll excuse me, Win, I need to run an errand."
"Trying to track down the mystery doodler?"
"How'd you guess?"
Winry stuck her tongue out at him. "I know you."
He shook his head, but he was showing a small smile. "Okay... well, now, I really need to go. I'll see you later, okay?"
"Yup! Good luck!" She waved.
Al made a mental list of stores in the city that sold the stuff on the list. He'd turn each of them on their heads if he had to... he just needed to find this annoyance and stop it.
His "hunt" led him to a grocery store he didn't usually go to. He paid no mind to the name as he ran in to search. Things were being crossed off the list as he looked around... so he decided to follow the list around the store and see where that might land him.
Soon enough, he found a certain tall brunet wearing black from head to pointy toes, including small, circle-lens sunglasses, despite being indoors. The man was about to cross off another thing on his hand.
Al glared at him. "Oh, no, you don't. Give me that!" He ran over, grabbed the pen and pulled it out of the man's reach.
"...uh... can I... help you?" the man asked, looking thoroughly confused.
Al was still glaring. "Stop writing on yourself."
"What do you care if I write on myself?"
Al had been trying his hardest not to channel his brother, but... it was all he could do to not attack the man in his frustration.
"...why are you doing it?" He forced his voice to sound as calm as possible.
"I forgot paper?"
"Not an excuse. That's what cell phone notepads are for." Al was not amused.
"I like to think outside the box. Name's Greed, by the way." He offered a grin.
Al glared again.
"Whoa! No need to glare so much. What's the problem?"
Al smiled a little at this, cocking his head slightly and parroting, "What's the problem?" He moved to unclasp the buttons on the cuffs of his long-sleeve shirt. "I'll show you..."
Greed thought for a split second that he was about to get hit... Instead, he was just shown an arm other than his that was covered in his doodles.
He blinked in surprise and confusion. "That's weird... how'd that happen?"
"I don't know, but however it's happening, stop it!" Al was still angry, and his anger showed in his tone. "Why do you draw so much on a surface other than freaking paper?!"
"Cuz it's my day job."
Al's expression showed his confusion. "I'm sorry?"
"I'm a tattoo artist," Greed explained.
At first, Al could only say, "...I... suppose that explains it..." After a minute, however, he shook his head in an effort to clear his thoughts, then narrowed his eyes at Greed again. "But that's still not an excuse! I work with automail and other mechanical things that require precision and stability! And you... your damned doodles... do you not realize they tickle?! I can't focus when I feel a phantom pen on my arm, you moron."
"Hey, I'm sorry... if I'd known it was affecting someone other than myself, I wouldn't have been doing it." Greed looked truly apologetic.
"...do you even realize that it isn't healthy to draw on your own skin with a normal pen...?" Al was somewhat calmer then, since getting his rant out.
Greed suppressed a sigh. "Yeah, I know that... but I've been getting bored easily lately."
"Really?" Al deadpanned. "That's your excuse?"
"It's a pretty good excuse," Greed mumbled, looking away from Al. He somewhat resembled a pouting Amestrian Shepherd dog.
Al sighed, shaking his head. "Are you just a giant child, or is it just me?"
"Nah... one of my friends says that about me, too."
"That's not exactly a good thing."
Greed shrugged. "What can you do? ...now... uh... can I have my pen back?"
"Do you promise not to write on yourself with it anymore?"
"I promise." Greed looked honest enough, but...
"How can I trust that I have your word?"
"Believe me; if I can help it, I don't lie."
"Oddly enough, I do sort of feel like I can believe that," Al said as he offered the pen back to Greed, then looked away in embarrassment. "...I'm sorry I blew up at you."
"Nah," Greed waved him off. "I can understand how annoying it'd be." Then something occurred to him. "Wait — how long has this been going on for?"
Al thought back. "About a month?"
Greed let out an impressed whistle. "No wonder you were pissed."
Al just smiled nervously.
Something else came to Greed's mind then. "Y'know... in the midst of all your rightful yelling at me, I never caught your name."
Al looked at him curiously before he realized he was right. His eyes widened in surprise. "Oh boy. You have a point... uh... my name is Alphonse."
Greed offered his right hand with a toothy grin. "Nice to meet ya, Alphonse!"
"Likewise, I suppose?" Al wasn't very sure of that, although he shook the offered hand anyway.
"You suppose?" Greed repeated in an amused manner.
"Don't push it. I'm still kind of mad at you."
Greed chuckled a bit. "Hey, I said I was sorry."
"And normally," Al started, "I would try to be more forgiving, but it's been happening for a month, out of the blue, with no explanation. I get the feeling you would've been angry if you'd been in my shoes, too."
"That's completely understandable..." Greed shrugged. "...so~."
"So...?"
"Wanna help me finish this list?" He gestured to his left hand. "I've only got, like, three things left."
"Why not?" It was Al's turn to shrug. "I guess it's the least I can do to make up for yelling at you like I did." He smiled nervously once again.
Greed grinned. "Very well, then. Onward!" He pointed forward somewhat dramatically.
Al let out a chuckle. "Are you always this much of a dork?"
"Honestly? ...yes." He was still wearing a wide grin.
It'd been a few weeks since then, and Al was happily surprised to find that it seemed as though Greed had switched back to paper. He was able to stay calm and focused at work again.
Once, when he was on break, however, he felt that tingle on his left forearm again. At first, he thought it was going to be a new doodle, and was ready to yell at Greed again...
But this time it wasn't a drawing. Instead, it was a message:
Hey... I don't mean to bug ya, but... wanna talk?
There was a phone number included underneath.
Al let out a sigh, shaking his head despite the smile tugging at his lips. 'He's certainly an odd one, I'll give him that...'
Once Al clocked out at the end of the day, he pulled out his cell and dialed the number Greed had given.
"Yo!" came the greeting on the other end of the phone after a short while.
Al smiled to himself. "Why, hello, oh King of Bored Dorks."
Greed chuckled. "That's me."
"What's up?"