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Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to have a soulmate. To be one of those lucky few with a place in the world, who belong. To have your soulmate's pain on top of your own, like you don't have enough already. To inflict your pain onto them. To know their life is worse for knowing you, because there's no way anyone else deserves what you have to deal with every day.
Then Perry the Platypus interrupts your thoughts with a smile in your direction, or that noise he makes, or a touch of your hand, and you decide this is better. You have your nemesis, that's so much better than a soulmate.
When you hurt each other, the right way, it's by choice, not fate playing a cruel joke. Fighting, thwarting, sparring, holding him down to steal a kiss, it's all real. Earned. The aches and bruises he gives you, they mean something. You mean something.
He said so himself, when he put this ring on your finger.
For a platypus of few words, he sure knows how to say a lot. That he pays attention, in the box of almond brittle he brings when your thoughts get the better of you, like he did tonight. That he trusts you, in the way he drops his guard and his tail when he walks through your door these days. That he likes having you in his life, in the ease with which he leans into your arm when you reach over him to set another cup of tea on his desk, next to the three already there. So many things to love about him. And you do love him, of course you do, that's why you accepted the ring.
Sometimes, like tonight, you sit on the kitchen counter and watch him filling out all his paperwork. And yours too, he insists. Sheesh, add a self-destruct button to paper once and he'll never let you live it down. So now you don't fill out your own forms, just make sure he has all the tea he could ever want while he does it for you. It's the least you could do.
Especially since you still feel like you barely know the guy. Sure, you know how hard he hits, how he takes his tea, that he shivers when you brush your lips over his knuckles. Even where he lives. Probably. Where his lair was, at least. But that doesn't tell you how he thinks. What his past is like, who he is when he's not with you, if he has a soulmate. Just because he's never mentioned it doesn't mean he doesn't have one. You hope he actually doesn't, though, and maybe that makes you a bad person but you already knew that. Good people don't become evil scientists.
You can only assume he doesn't mind the whole evil scientist thing, because he's still here, in your apartment, in your life. Plus, he's dating his nemesis. That's a pretty good indicator. You may be a certified Good Guy now but you're still nemeses, you still fight, just without the whole Good vs Evil thing.
And he stays afterwards. That's a nice change, helps your apartment feel less empty.
He glances over at you with an inquisitive noise, pointing at the four empty mugs on the desk now, and you hop up to make him another one. Keeps your hands busy. After all, it's not like he lets you make inators when he's over here in the evenings either, not after what happened with the Popcorn-inator.
Well, that's not entirely true. Technically you could make inators, but then he'd be all disappointed at you, and that's worse than losing your arms again. You would know. So, tea it is, he appreciates the tea.
Boil the water, drop in the teabag, make the tea, add the agave syrup he loves so much, stir it in with a spoon-
Pain lances through your finger and you yelp, sticking it in your mouth on instinct as the spoon clatters across the bench. Wide-eyed, you turn to Perry the Platypus, who... also has his finger in his mouth?
He blinks first, and then you're pulling your finger free, inspecting it for a papercut, or whatever other injury you now inexplicably have from making tea because that totally makes sense. And it turns out there isn't one. No papercut, no nothing.
"Perry the Platypus," you say, brows furrowed. "Did you just..."
Gesturing towards the stacks of paper on the desk in front of him, he shrugs. Just a papercut, he says. Dangers of paperwork, that he's graciously shielding you from. But...
You cross the room, dropping to one knee beside him so you don't have to bend over. "Let me look at that." Taking his adorable little hand, you turn it over, revealing an actual papercut on his finger. Sealed shut with his spit already, so he's not going to need a bandage for it, but it's got to sting.
Wait a minute.
"I want to try something," you say, and he bows his head in agreement, his other paw coming up to curl around your wrist. "This might hurt a little..."
You poke at the papercut and yep that hurts.
Swallowing, you glance up into his gorgeous brown eyes. "I think... I think we're soulmates," you whisper, when your voice works again. All this time and you never imagined...
All he does is shrug, squeeze your wrist, and turn back to his paperwork.
"That's it? No reaction?" You would have thought he'd be surprised at least. Did he know? But then why wouldn't he tell you? He knows how you feel about belonging, and he didn't think to mention it? "Perry the Platypus, this is a big deal, I-"
He shuts you up with a kiss. Which works, because of course it does, he knows all your weaknesses and this is one of them. Curse him, he's good at this.
When he finally lets you up for air, you wrap your arms around him and press your face into the side of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. How did you end up with someone as amazing as him? "I guess I never thought it would happen, you know? The soulmate thing. I tried to be happy about that, because, well- you know my life, it's not that hard to figure out why- And with you I was. Happy, I mean. You make me so, so happy, Perry the Platypus, I hope you know that. Yes, even when you punch me," you add in response to the inevitable eyeroll you're sure he's giving you, while he combs his fingers through your hair. "And now it turns out we are soulmates." You lift your head, letting him see the tears in your eyes. "Did you know?"
Shaking his head, he brings his palm down to cup your jaw. He didn't. And he chose to be with you anyway, somehow. That means something. That means a lot.
"You really didn't know?" you ask, again, just to make sure, and he flicks at your nose in answer. Yeah, he had no idea either. Good to know it wasn't just you. "So... soulmates. I don't know what I was expecting, but..." You kiss the tip of his bill and exhale softly, pulling your foreheads together. "I'm glad it's you."
He nuzzles at your cheek, then touches his fingers to your chin, guiding your head towards the... empty mugs on his desk. Right, he's still waiting on his tea. The tea you were making when you got distracted.
The echo of his touch lingers on your skin as you pull away with a "Whoops, I almost forgot about that. Let me just get it for you." Rising to your feet, you shuffle backwards, pointing towards the kitchen. "I'll be right back." Then you turn and dash back in.
You're only away for a second or two, thirty at the most, but when you return he's already back to work, glaring at the stack of forms like he's trying to burn through them with the force of his glare. For all you know, he could. Reaching over anyway, you set the cup right next to his free paw, twisting it so the handle taps into his palm. No one could say you don't make an effort.
Glancing up at you, his expression softens, and he lets out a low rumble of appreciation. You can tell it's appreciation because he leans against your arm for a moment as his fingers curl around the cup. Then the moment's over and he tugs his tea closer, under his bill.
"I know it's great and all, but I'm standing right here," you complain, loud enough that he has to know you're only pretending to be irritated. Especially since your hand's resting on his shoulder, thumb rubbing slowly into the tight muscle. You can't be genuinely mad at him any more, not after everything he's done for you, as your nemesis and your... Soulmate, you guess.
But how much difference does that make, huh? He's your nemesis, that's all you've ever needed him to be.