The way you make me feel, you really turn me on

[spideyguy]

Peter's name appeared on a crisp afternoon in October, on the way home from school. They appeared randomly, at any point in a person's life - some already had them from birth. Peter hadn't been that lucky. Still, he'd stopped, skateboard propped against his leg, and pulled his sleeve up, watching as the swooping, uneven letters appeared on his wrist.

WADE

Well that was...unexpected. It wasn't even a gender neutral name, like Sam. That's got to be a guy.

...so maybe the afternoon turned into more of a revelation for Peter than he might have thought, but hey. Whoever Wade was, Peter's bound to love him, quite literally.

The thing about soulmates was, the bond strengthened with time. When the name appeared, that's when the real countdown began. Then, the universe started pulling you together, until the endgame - a meeting, face to face, and the touch of bare skin on skin. When that happened, the name, inked on your wrist? It turned gold. That's how you knew it was the right person (although, obviously, you knew beforehand. Usually. Probably?)

It was said some soulmates could even watch each other's dreams. That was just a myth, however, an urban legend. That's not to say a soulmate connection wasn't extraordinarily strong, though; the majority of couples could, in fact, feel each other on a physical level. Feel each other's pain, specifically, or catch a cold when their soulmate did.

Peter started feeling the twinges freshman year of high school. A pain in his side, just a dull ache. His jaw, occasionally. It was so infrequent, it had been hard to diagnose it as an echo of his soulmate's pain.

Peter wondered if Wade was having as much trouble at school as Peter was. Maybe they had a different brand of Locker Knocker wherever Wade was.

And so it goes. Peter was bitten. Uncle Ben died. He started his quest for revenge. The bond grew stronger. I'm sorry, Peter thought, spitting out blood in an alleyway, fresh from his last fight. I'll try not to get hit again. It said something that he was more willing to try for the sake of his mystery Wade's pain than his own.

The night against Connors was bad. Slashed his chest clean open, in addition to the bullet wound in his thigh. Gwen cleaned him up as best she could - god, what did he ever do to deserve a friend like her? - but all Peter could think about was Wade. I'm sure he'll understand when you meet him, Peter. He's probably just worried, I mean, imagine if you felt him get shot in the leg.

Unfortunately, the next time they shared pain, it was much, much worse than a bullet.