I swear to God the Universe is conspiring against me :( I'll have to double update at some point. Dear Lord...
It was something that they didn't talk about. The curved barely there smudges on their wrists were ignored by everyone, though they ignored them for propriety, while Yao and Alasdair ignored them because why should it matter? They had each other for company and they didn't need anyone else, though the adults still whispered and the children still sneered both behind their backs and to their faces. Fingers intertwined tightly around each other, smudges pressed against unmarked skin as they stood, ready to take on the world together, always together.
It was Alasdair who drew first blood on the playground, a feral snarl on his lips as he stood over Yao who had been pushed to the floor by the same boy who bow lay in a whimpering, groaning heap at Alasdair's feet.
It was Yao who got sent out of the classroom first for moving faster than Alasdair could and slamming the girls head into the desk who had dared to mock his best friends baby brother. The fact that he didn't know which one she had been referring to was of no matter, Alasdair had many baby brothers (much to their annoynace) and Yao had many siblings. And they both looked out for them.
Though neither of them would admit it, they both cried with the other when their younger siblings names came through on their wrists, as bright and clear as the sun in the sky, relieved that they wouldn't have to go through the hell that Yao and Alasdair were forced to go through, simply for being different. And if they would trace a delicate finger over the smudge when they thought the other wasn't looking, well they weren't about to call them on it.
They loved the winter though, the snow which came down in flurries, in sheets or sometimes just lazy flakes that spiralled down. Alasdair loved the ice, the ability to go gliding across it like he possessed wigs was something he treasured beyond almost everything and the Scottish boy would grin and wave at his best friend from his position on the ice, back curved and one leg straight propelling him into a spin. Yao would wave back, secretly glad that his favourite part of winter, the warm
gloves covered his wrist, allowing him to pretend for jut a while longer thy he had a future.
It had been an idea, spawned off when they were children, left alone in the vast Kirkland household while their families went out. The curiosities of children knows no bounds and quickly the makeup was found and then the foundation. Brushes were fumbled between unsure fingers, but stroke by stroke the smudge disappeared underneath smooth foundation. And in it's place, in shaky childish hand, the others name appeared on the black pencil. Yao read the name proudly on Alasdair's wrist, the Scottish boy beaming up at the Chinese boy in delight as he wrote his own name, Alasdair in his own bold print on Yao's slim wrist.
But that had been as children, and it was Yao who noticed first, his scream of horror rousing Alasdair from his spot on the couch and to come barrelling into the kitchen to stare at Yao who only waved his wrist at him, unable to do more. The smudge was becoming clearer and it was with slow dread that Alasdair looked at his and realises that his too was becoming clear.
"I..." he began and trailed off, eyes wide in horror.
"I..." Yao echoed, breath becoming caught in his throat as the grey swirled before his eyes becomes clearer by the second.
Alasdair closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the ceiling, breath coming in short pants through his nose as he entire body trembled with the urge to fight or flight.
"I need tah tell yah something afor this happens tae us," he managed to say quietly, words getting caught in his throat. Yao only nodded, head spinning as he stepped closer to his friend, feeling like he was walking to his doom.
"I love yah," Alasdair said finally, eyes closed as he lowered his head in defeat, feeling by the tingling in his skin thy were was now a name present there, the name of the person he would be tied to for te rest of his life. Yao blinked slowly, tears enveloping his vision in a hazy and film and stretched up to press his lips against the taller boys, feeling him reprociate as if he was dying and this was his last request.
Together they wrapped their fingers together, like they did long ago, and raises them to see whose name was their. With a happy shout they wrappe. Around each other pulling each other down to kiss each they again, before moving on to kiss every bit of skin they could reach, lips passing over the text on their wrists again and again as the clock chimed Christmas morning in the background. Yao it read proudly on Alasdair's wrist framed by coiling tattoos. Alasdair it read on Yao's wrist and the two couldn't be happier.