Chapter Text
[III]
I needed you. I still need you.
Mob kissed him again, hurried, hungry, and Reigen let him, putting his arms around his waist, their chests pressing together, sticky and warm. Mob's heart was like a hummingbird, flurrying against the bars of his ribcage, and Reigen could feel his hair fluttering, his skin tingling, his control fraying. The light flickered again, swinging a little on its plain cord, and Mob broke away, breathing hard.
"S-sorry," he said again. "That's... that's not what I'm trying to..."
"It's okay, it's okay," Reigen replied, holding his face, gentle, calm – although Mob's words implied he was trying to use his powers to do something else and Reigen wished he wouldn't, he'd already exhibited that his control at a time like this was not the best. "It's... just go slow, I'm here, okay?"
Mob nodded, taking a few shaky breaths – but Reigen could still see his hair moving, ever so slightly, and moments later he realised why. Mob, impatient, was using his powers to finish undressing both of them, peeling away denim, rolling down cotton. Reigen didn't want to fathom breaking his concentration at a time like this, he might blow out the entire dorm block, so he just lifted his hips and whatever else to help him as best he could. It made him wonder idly what sorts of things Mob could do to him with some imagination – but then, again, his control under these circumstances was not as carefully measured. It seemed like a stupid way to get yourself killed.
Mob lay along the length of him once they were naked, damp and warm, their bodies tangled up together. Reigen could feel his hardness against his own, strange and sudden with the smell of him so familiar, his soap and shampoo he must have brought from home, unchanged-changeling, transmuted from muted little Mob, mutated. It was hard to believe it was really him, that he could really get this hard, that he wasn't made of silk and air without a single sinful thought. That night seemed as distant as ever, alleged, allegory. Mob's face was level with his, his cheek pushed against the pillow, and he smiled shyly, his hair shining. His eyes were very dark.
"I... I'm ready," he said, barely above a whisper. His face was beginning to go pink.
"Yeah," Reigen said. His voice was low in his throat, something of a grizzle, hoarse with want. He was ready, too; now that they were in the meat of it the heat flooded him, filled up his every sense. He longed for him like nothing else on this earth.
Mob leaned in to kiss him, soft and dry, and he took his face, pulled him close. Teeth, tongue, a retracing of steps over a taste he knew well. Mob sighed into him, sank against him, shivered. He was so beautiful, his body long and cool, a moonbeam poured into careful flesh, curated. He had a glow like an opal, milk-blue as the blind eyes of snakes, bad luck. Reigen would never tire of him, no, not when he had sired him, plucked him from the fire. This was the shape of desire.
He rolled them over, had Mob settle on top to give him a fair chance to assert himself. He was solid, heavy, with no awareness of it, crushing him to the futon. Reigen broke the kiss, pulling himself aside just enough to breathe, felt Mob lathe and nip at his throat instead, insatiable.
"I-I keep forgetting... just how big you are," he murmured, arching his neck, enjoying it.
Mob paused, his lips against his hammering pulse. "S-sorry..." He lifted himself a little, taking his own weight on his knees and elbows. "Better?"
Reigen reached up, pressed his palm to his gleaming collarbone. His fingers dipped into the well of his clavicle. "Oh, much."
He felt Mob exhale under his touch as he began to trail his hand lower, skimming over his skin. He felt his flesh trembling, his bones expanding, his heart blooming. He felt him take a sharp breath in, his ribcage jumping, as he skated his fingertips over his belly, pushed deep into his navel. He was so hard and damp, straining against his skin, inches from his itching touch.
"Sh... Shishou..."
Reigen's fingers roved to the root of his cock, coddling. Mob was big here, too, embarrassing, exhilarating, not what he'd been expecting. Not that he'd been expecting anything all these years, it was just... well. Well.
"Say my name," he said gravely – anything to make it less weird, which was... hard given the matter at hand.
"...Arataka," Mob mumbled, his head down. His hips twitched, once, twice, and Reigen closed his hand around him, squeezing. Mob shuddered madly, his eyes rolling back in his head. "Ah... Ara... t-taka...!"
"Good," Reigen whispered, watching him, wanting him. He didn't move his hand, just held him, felt him buck and rut against his grip, slippery as silk. He wondered if Mob would even manage to get inside him at this rate. He didn't know which he wanted more. He gripped a little tighter, felt him pulse against his palm, heard him give a breathy strangled little wail.
"Sh-Shishou," he panted, his eyes scrunched shut, "please, I-I... I'm not...!"
"It's okay," Reigen said softly, feeling him tense, his shoulders heaving. "Mob, it's okay, it's okay..."
Mob caught his breath, shuddered deeply, came in his hand. He rocked himself into his grasp, riding it out. His face was flushed, his mouth was a little open, his hair was standing on end. He looked so beautiful, older but unchanged.
"S-sorry," he choked out, barely able to lift his eyes. "I just... it-it felt so..."
"It's okay," Reigen said again, gentle, reassuring. Perhaps he had been too eager, if only he'd waited... Still, he supposed it didn't matter too much. The way Mob was looking at him, flushed and filled with blissful haze... He definitely wasn't done with him. He wasn't even entirely flaccid, his prick still hanging at half-mast, wet and gleaming. Reigen let go of him, lifting his hand to his mouth, aware of Mob watching him fixedly. He heard his sharp inhale as he licked his fingers, tasting him.
"Shishou," Mob hissed, his voice low in the back of his throat, gritty with need. He sounded slightly scandalised, too, which was amusing after all this, after that first night...
"Can't you use my name?" Reigen sighed through his fingers. "'Shishou' is... so weird at this point."
Mob grabbed his wrist, squeezing, stopping him. "Arataka."
Now he said it without hesitation, owned it, swallowed it whole, every syllable. Reigen barely dared to breathe, watching him lean in, kiss his way over the back of his hand, taste himself. It made something at the core of him quiver, watching Mob bloom well beyond his imagination, swelling like a river. Still so much of him thought this can't be real, it can't be happening, this isn't Mob, how could that awkward fourteen-year-old with bangs like a battle-axe have grown into... this? Mob looked at him so searingly, endearingly, his hair haloed around his face, swaying like seaweed. He put out his hand, called one of the many sealed tubes into his grasp. Kiwi.
"C-can I?" he asked, his voice low and husky, unlike him. Reigen watched his fingers bruise into the aluminium, white under the nails.
"I-I suppose so," he said faintly. He was as ready as he would ever be, which was something between so and never.
"Okay." Mob sighed it, gripping the tube tighter, his shoulders arching. "...Okay." He took a breath, fumbled with the cap, got it off, pierced it, sat there watching the gleaming green lube begin to ooze out. He looked sort of startled, deer-in-headlights, like it wasn't behaving how he had expected. His hair was beginning to stand upright again, his nerves getting the better of him. Reigen wasn't exactly any more relaxed but he was, he knew, much better at keeping a poker face when he needed to. He reached up, gently took Mob's wrist.
"Mob, it's fine," he said. "You're doing fine."
Mob let out another deep exhale, shaky. "I'm sorry," he said, glancing away. "I... I really want to but... I'm so nervous, I just..."
"I understand," Reigen said softly.
"Do you?" Mob was studying the green slime sliding down the tube. "...I can't imagine you being nervous about anything. You always know what you're doing."
"I wanted to tell you something earlier," Reigen said. "You didn't want me to right then. Maybe you'll let me now."
Mob frowned at him, confused, dubious. "...Okay."
Reigen paused, gathering himself together. He hadn't thought it would be so difficult to admit this, at least not to Mob, but he had to forcibly will the words onto his tongue. "That night you and I... well, I was... the thing is, Mob, it was, ah, my... my first time, too."
Mob blinked, tilted his head. "With... a guy?"
"With anyone. I know it's hard to believe, given my age, but... well, that's it." Reigen held his gaze through sheer willpower. "So, you know... you don't have to worry about impressing me or anything like that. Just... do what feels right."
"But that's..." Mob shook his head, wide-eyed. "You... you were so confident, you knew exactly what you were doing...!"
"Some knowledge, some intuition." Reigen shrugged. "I know you very well, after all."
"Why didn't you say? I just... I assumed—"
"I know, I'm sorry. I could see how nervous you were. I thought if you knew I really had no idea what I was doing, you'd have been too scared."
"...You were scared," Mob said.
"A bit."
"But you acted like you weren't – for me."
"Yes."
"Did you really want to?" Mob asked. "Or did you just do that for me, too?"
"You already asked me that today."
"I know – but now I feel like maybe you weren't honest." Mob dropped the tube to the futon, wiped his gooey hand on his belly. "...Maybe you're not being honest now."
This seemed alarmingly astute for Mob, who still wasn't brilliant at reading people, all things considered.
"Do you think I would lie about something so serious?" Reigen asked. "Something like this, Mob... there's no taking it back."
"I know," Mob replied, "but I also know you'd do anything for me. You acted like you knew what you were doing to spare me – you did that at your own expense. You were scared too and you couldn't show it."
"You don't need to feel bad about that," Reigen said gently.
"I don't feel bad," Mob replied. "I feel grateful. Again. You do so much for me and I'm... I'm too nervous to repay you–"
"Mob, Mob." Reigen reached up, taking his face. He could feel him shivering. "I'm not asking to be repaid for anything, especially not that. That's not what I want, that's not..."
"But you're so kind to me," Mob said, small-voiced, fourteen, eleven.
Reigen pinched his cheeks. "Because I love you," he sighed, exasperated, smiling. "Honestly, Mob, I swear you're getting worse at this stuff."
Mob went red to the roots, dipping his head. "I-I love you too," he mumbled against Reigen's chest, barely audible.
"Yes," Reigen agreed. "Isn't that why we're here?"
Mob said nothing for a long moment, warm and still against Reigen's body. He was sulking, perhaps, so Reigen reached up and rubbed at the back of his head.
"Look," he said, "if you're not feeling confident... I can–"
"No." Mob straightened again, determined. "I want to. Please let me try."
"Okay, okay." Reigen grinned at him. "Stubborn."
Mob kissed him, forceful, falling forward, all his weight bearing down. Reigen sank against the futon, wrapped his arms around him, pulled him close. Mob was a pretty awful kisser, no technique, his breathing misaligned, his hands awkward, but Reigen didn't want him any other way. It was selfish, yes, hideously so, but this meant he'd had no practice, that he was all his. He didn't care about what would happen in the morning, what would become of them beyond these walls – reckless but maybe this way was better, maybe they'd wreck less.
Mob broke the kiss, started to slide downwards, his mouth searing over Reigen's throat. Reigen exhaled, bending his neck, arching up into him as Mob kissed his way down, careful, lingering at his clavicle, his nipples, his navel. He put his hands in his hair, felt it lapping between his fingers; a world away, uneasily, he considered that Mob wasn't really in full control of his powers, losing himself in his own enjoyment, his exhilaration. Things were beginning to rattle, the light was swinging ever so slightly. Reigen gripped tighter, rubbed at his scalp.
"Calm down," he whispered, breathless. "I'm here, I'm h-here..."
Mob lifted his head, his breath hot on Reigen's belly. "Sorry."
"It's okay." Reigen caught up his hands, felt him tangle their fingers together. His hair was still misbehaving but he didn't think there was much they could do about that. Nothing was floating, at least – not yet. He squeezed his hands. "I know you're trying."
Mob nodded, coming level with him again. He was beginning to look a bit out of it, sweating at his brow, and Reigen kissed him once more to give him something to concentrate on. Mob accepted it, grateful, and for a long moment he was very still, his pulse pounding in his palms. Reigen thought about rolling him over, taking charge just until he'd pulled himself together; he was better with bodies, he knew how to handle them even if he wasn't an expert in this, and Mob was...
Mob was–
Reigen pulled his head free, gasping, the sensation smouldering, slamming him sideways. He could feel something deep inside him, warm and buzzing, the pressure building, immense, immeasurable. Their hands were still locked; he could still feel Mob hard and slithering against his inner thigh. He looked right up at him, panting, shocked.
"Y-you're... you're using your... your powers..." He only just managed it, his throat clogging, his face burning. It felt incredible, filling up every inch of him, pressing into the shape of him, slick and hot and endless. It burned in the pit of his belly, it made his legs tremble, it made his toes curl.
"Yes," Mob replied, calm, almost flat. He let go of his hands, allowing him to squirm. "I'm preparing you."
"Y-you shouldn't... dangerous..." Reigen twisted on the sheets beneath him like a hooked fish, breathing hard. He desperately wanted to push his shivering knees together but Mob was in the way, staring down at him, watching him writhe.
"Does this count?" he asked.
"A-as what?" Reigen snapped, throwing his arm over his face. The questions, god, how irritating at a time like this. He felt Mob ease more of the lube into him, thought maybe he was being a bit over-zealous with it but, oh, butbutbut–
"As using my powers against others?"
Reigen's only response to such an asinine query was to groan through gritted teeth, his spine coming off the futon. He felt Mob catch him under his thighs, drag him closer, press himself against his entrance slick and ready and desperate and he didn't struggle. Now he took back those mean thoughts about Mob being unimaginative, about having no more charisma than a soy bean. He was eighteen, after all, older, hungry, different–
No. Not different. Reigen opened his eyes, forced himself to, looked up at him. Mob's hair was completely on end, his dark eyes were glassy, he was barely breathing. Reigen knew that look on him – knew he was overwhelmed and getting dangerously close to an explosion. What a stupid way to die.
"Mob," he breathed, close, terrified, "stop... stop using y-your powers. Mob!"
Nothing. He didn't know if he could even see him anymore, never mind hear him. The pressure spiked, unbearable, on the brink of breaking him open – and he could hardly breathe, barely think, so he panicked, acted blindly, hoped for the best. He wrapped his legs around Mob's hips and pushed him forward, forcing him into his body in one hot sudden slick surge. It didn't hurt as he had expected it to, Mob's weird method of prepping him having some merits, at least. He took him to the hilt and Mob slammed against him, stopping, and he shuddered and came back to himself with a startled gasp. His hair dropped, his eyes grew wide, he hung over Reigen not knowing quite what to do with himself, his power subsiding.
"Um... uh, I... am I...?"
"You're in," Reigen said breathlessly, flopping back against the futon. He let his legs untangle, propping his knees against Mob's hips. "I'm afraid I... I had to hurry you along."
Mob dipped his head. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice tiny.
"It's okay." Reigen really didn't want to dwell on how close he'd come to being scraped off the ceiling by the university cleaning staff. He reached up, rubbed his thumb over Mob's cheek. "Just concentrate. No... n-no more using your powers. Just use... use your body, okay?"
Mob nodded against his palm, his cheek warm. "Okay."
"Good boy." Reigen sank deeper against the pillow, exhaling, already exhausted. He could feel Mob inside him, firm and trembling and eager, and tried not to think too hard about how weird it was. It wasn't fair to keep wincing at how young he was, that he'd been his student, that he was Mob-for-god's-sake. He deserved more respect than that – he wanted so badly to be treated like an adult, he was doing his best. He came in for another kiss and Reigen held him close, rolling his hips against him, encouraging him to move. It took him a moment to get the message, rutting awkwardly until Reigen slid his hands to his waist, to the dip of his back, pressing into the flesh, guiding him. Mob broke the kiss with a gasp, wide-eyed.
"...O-oh!"
"Better?" Reigen whispered against his jaw, feeling him ease into the rhythm of it.
"Mmmm." Mob sighed it, burying his hot face against the crook of Reigen's neck. His jet hair was damp with sweat, starting to lift again, and Reigen put his hand on the back on his head.
"You're d-doing great," he murmured close to his ear. "Just... just focus... Move with me, th-that's all... you need to d-do..."
Mob nodded again, giving a shaky exhale. He was moving more or less at his own pace now, Reigen's hand at the dip of his waist to reassure him, anchor him. He remembered how near he'd come to losing control mere moments before; he remembered how he'd looked that first night, astride him, gorgeous, dangerous, his hair wild, the contents of Reigen's room floating like flakes in a snowglobe. He remembered the lights, how the building had shook, and knew he had to do better at keeping Mob in check. He couldn't afford to let himself go no matter how good it felt. Of course Mob wasn't exactly skilled, not to mention a little inattentive – now he was inside him that was the only thing he was interested in, his hands safely in Reigen's hair. He was fast, though, frenzied, filling up every inch of him, hot and tight, just enough of a stretch. Reigen put his legs around him again, urging him as deep as he could go, felt him pant for breath against his throat. His shoulders heaved, his feet scrabbled against the futon, his teeth grazed Reigen's jaw. He was coming completely undone and Reigen held him, held him, knew he wouldn't last very much longer.
"Are you close?" he murmured next to his ear.
Mob said nothing, breathing deeply, whining a little. At length he managed to nod, hiding his face against Reigen's neck. His hips were growing frantic, erratic, his skin shining, his fingers clutching. Reigen nipped at his ear, gently tugging with his teeth, and the moan he made sent shivers through him – straight southward, shameful. He didn't think he was going to last a whole lot longer himself, wrapped up in Mob, enjoying every inch of him. He felt lucky to be the one beneath him, the only one he trusted to show this side of himself to: that it wasn't that girl from back then, that it wasn't somebody new he'd met on campus, that it wasn't Teruki Hanazawa. His selfishness had a shape and so did Mob's – a perfect fit.
Mob pulled his head free, his hair rising again. "Sh-Shishou," he said raggedly, "I... I'm going to... to..."
"It's okay." Reigen held him tighter, feeling his skin tingle against his own, his powers flaring. "Mob, it's okay, it's okay..."
"Shi... shou–"
"Say m-my name," Reigen begged, burying his face in his hair. "Not... not 'Shishou', not now..."
"Arataka, Arataka." Mob panted it like a mantra, a string of beads to ward off evil, every syllable hard against his teeth. "Ara... t-ta...!"
He trailed off into something unintelligible, shuddering as he came. The light flickered violently, Reigen watching it past Mob's heaving shoulder, feeling the warm spill of him inside his body.
"It's okay," he whispered again, pressing his palm to the back of his head, letting him ride the high into him. He was precarious himself, right on the edge but not quite, not quite, his toes spreading as Mob's belly rubbed against his neglected cock. Just a little more, just just just–
"S-sorry," Mob mumbled again, still heaving for breath. "You... y-you're still..."
"It's f-fine," Reigen sighed, scrunching at his sticky hair. The last thing he wanted was him fretting about it, thinking he'd done something wrong. "It's... nothing I can't–"
"L-let me." Mob stayed his hand, pulling his own down Reigen's body in the narrow avenue between them. He came to his cock, hesitated, then closed his hand around it, squeezed tight enough to make him see stars.
"O-oh!" Reigen arched himself into him, his hips jolting off the futon. He clung on tightly, breathing hard through his nose as Mob began to move his hand, slow, just enough pressure. He could still feel him inside him, moving as he did; he could still feel the crisp tingle of his skin, his power glimmering just beneath it; he could feel the warm spike in his belly growing sharper, tighter, closing around him, tangled up with Mob and his hand and his mouth and the rest of him, all he wanted. He held him like he'd never let him go.
Mob leaned down over him, his eyes dark, hazy with headiness. His hair was flat against his skull and he smelt of sweat and hours-ago body spray.
"Are you close?" he asked softly, innocent in his mimicry–
But just hearing it, such words in Mob's soaped-out mouth, was enough. Reigen came over his hand, hanging onto him for dear life, moaning yes yes against his neck even though he didn't know what he was even answering anymore. He tipped his head right back on the pillow, gulping for breath as the spike subsided, his legs still trembling as he felt Mob let him go and flop across him completely. He was still nestled inside him, soft and oozing, but he didn't mind, aching for his closeness. He wanted them to melt together, bones and blood and skin and souls, osmosis, oasis. In the morning he knew he'd feel different, he'd be more sensible, but right now he wanted a paradise built on bad advice. He wanted to shoot blindly, see what he hit.
He put his arms around Mob's neck, nuzzled him close – felt him kiss the corner of his mouth.
[water water]
The room was stifling. Bright, too, blindingly, the sunlight milk-white and thick like a fog. Reigen rolled over, shielding his face, and found Mob sprawled ungracefully beside him, sound asleep, looking like he'd been upended through a hedge. He didn't expect that he looked much better given how he felt – sore, stiff, sticky. He considered sneaking away to the shower; sitting up and disturbing Mob, who blinked himself awake and lifted his head.
"Where are you going?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Nowhere," Reigen said, putting his arms above his head, feeling his spine pop. "Just stretching."
"Okay." Mob seemed satisfied with that, letting his head drop back to the pillow. He smiled shyly at him. "Umm..."
"What?" Reigen reached out and brushed a bit of gluey hair away from his eyes.
Mob dropped his gaze, flushing pink. "I... I was just... um, I mean... th-thank you."
"Thank you?" Reigen repeated, blinking. "Mob, you don't have to thank me for–"
"For trusting me," Mob interrupted softly. "...I know I started to lose control a few times. I-I could have hurt you."
"It's fine, you didn't," Reigen said firmly. "That's why I trust you – because I know you won't even when it's difficult for you."
"I was only calm because of you. I... don't feel scared of what my powers can do when I'm with you."
Reigen put his hand on his forehead. "I'm glad."
"...Maybe I shouldn't have used them like that, though."
Reigen felt a little hot in the face when he remembered... well, that. "Y-yes, perhaps not."
"I was too nervous to use my fingers. I thought it would be easier to use my powers." Mob was so wonderfully matter-of-fact in the light of day, it was kind of hilarious. "Did it feel good?"
Reigen coughed. "...Until it started to hurt like hell, yes."
Mob frowned. "Sorry."
"It's okay," Reigen reassured him. "You're new at this, you're learning. We, ah... we both are."
Mob squinted at him. "Is that really true?"
Reigen grinned at him. "Still don't believe me?"
Mob looked away again, sighing. "I... I want to. I want to believe I'm the only one you've ever..."
"You are."
Mob met his eyes again, intensely black, staring in that way of his. "So... you were waiting for me?"
Reigen frowned, taking his hand off his head. "Of course not," he said, perhaps a little sharper than he'd intended. He didn't want Mob to think that of him no matter how much he romanticised it. "Mob, think about what you're saying. Of course I wasn't waiting for you."
Mob exhaled, pulling his gaze away, upset. "I'm sorry," he said. "I... didn't mean..."
"I know – and I know I keep talking about how much older I am but that's not something that's going to change. It's a fact of our relationship, it's going to come up again and again–"
"I don't care," Mob said.
"I know. I'm grateful for that, Mob, I am, but this won't be easy."
"Because it's not normal?" Mob shrugged. "Neither am I. I used to want so badly to be like everybody else but I never really fit in no matter how hard I tried – but you accepted me the way I was. That's why I accept you the way you are, too. I don't wish you were younger, I don't wish it was more normal, I..."
"I understand," Reigen said gently – because he did. He knew he was nothing special, not compared to somebody like Mob; he knew he'd be useless to him if they were the same age, painful as it was. His strength was his experience, in being the right kind of influence. Perhaps Mob could have loved anyone who showed him this sort of kindness – but he'd chosen him. He understood Mob so he understood.
"I wasn't waiting for you," he said again, touching Mob's cheek, "but... I'm glad I waited. I'm glad it was you."
Mob's eyes lifted towards him, his face going pink again. It always amused Reigen to see him blush because he generally didn't look like he had enough blood. He was warm to the touch, nuzzling against his palm, pressing his own hand atop it.
"I'm really happy," he said – his hair was moving so perhaps he felt the need to clarify.
"Yeah," Reigen replied. He smiled, rubbing at his skin. "Me too."
Mob moved closer, pouring himself into his arms, clambering on top of him – and he was all sticky limbs and groping hands, heavy, forgetting his own size, his own strength. Reigen let him because he loved every inch of him, he couldn't bring himself to deny him any longer, he never wanted to be apart from him again. Mob kissed him, catching him up with teeth and tongue, sour from the night before, and Reigen wrapped his arms around him and their legs tangled beneath the twin sheets. Later, he knew, he would have to go, recede like the tide back to Spice City, dry on the rocks, wait – but it was hours away, a mid-afternoon train, a two-hour journey. Until then they had as many moments as they needed, they didn't need to untangle from the moment. There was no horizon, no Ritsu calling like a siren, green light green light.
Mob broke the kiss and sat up, straddling Reigen's belly. Reigen put his hands on his thighs, looking up at him. He was so beautiful, the pale early sunlight glossy on his swaying hair, his dark eyes so searching and strange, unchanged. There was a weight in the way he was watching him, a look on his face that Reigen knew, that he'd seen that first day, that night, that other night.
"What?" he asked, squeezing his thighs, gentle.
Mob took a breath, putting his hands atop his. Reigen could feel his pulse in his palms. "You... you should stay."
Reigen blinked. "Stay? Mob, I can't–"
"Not forever," Mob interrupted, looking away. "I know you can't do that. Just... for a few more days."
"I... I really–"
"Until your birthday." Mob's eyes were piercing. "Please."
Reigen exhaled through his nose, feeling a little cornered. He supposed... well, really, there wasn't much to stop him, he was his own boss and a couple of days more wouldn't hurt; and he'd get to be with Mob and there was all that, ah, paraphernalia he'd bought, it'd be a shame to let it go to waste–
"...I suppose I could give Serizawa a call," he said, coughing into his fist. "A-and if he can't... well, I guess closing for a few days won't kill me."
Mob's response wasn't gleeful or ecstatic – he simply smiled, nodded, tightened his grip on his hands. "Thank you."
"I think I should be thanking you for your generous hospitality," Reigen said. "...You don't want me to be alone on my birthday, do you?"
"Well, no," Mob agreed quietly, "but also I... I just don't want to see you walk away like you did that morning. I-I'm sorry, I know it's selfish, it's–"
"Mob, it's alright." Reigen reached up and wiped at his face, seeing him begin to cry. "Sshh, it's alright. I understand. It was hard for me, too."
"Really?"
"Of course it was. Leaving you there, knowing you were going away... It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."
Mob looked past him. "...You thought that was it, didn't you? That one night, that we'd never..."
"I thought that was what was best," Reigen sighed. "I didn't come here expecting... this."
"I know," Mob said. "But I really do want this. I know I keep calling you 'Shishou' out of habit but I don't want you to be that to me anymore. That's why I'm glad you said I could use your name."
Reigen smiled up at him, teasing. "Say it, then."
"Arataka," Mob said obediently.
"Hmm." Reigen ran his thumb over his bottom lip, felt the thrum of his teeth on the last syllable. "I like it better when you moan it."
Mob actually jolted, his hair flaring, and the glass of water on the desk cracked. He winced, eyes down, red to the tips of his ears. "S-sorry."
"It's okay."
"...You say that a lot."
"I know – because it's true. I tell myself that a lot, especially when I'm in over my head. What kind of idiot runs a psychic agency when he doesn't have any psychic powers – don't answer that – so I get up every morning and think it will be okay."
Mob closed his hands around his wrist, holding him. "...We'll be okay," he said, quietly, firmly.
"Yeah." Reigen sat up, shifting Mob back into his lap. Their bare skin was gritty with salt, dried-in, seashore. "We'll be fine."
Mob kissed him and he knew he believed him, trusted him, wanted him to be right. It wasn't going to be easy and he didn't know if he was ready for the storm but this room was the eye of it, bright and quiet, alone in the last lifeboat. He didn't want to think about crooked signs, about the signs of aging – no better way than waking up on your thirty-second birthday next to an eighteen year old but the bed was made (better rumple the bedding). Mob wrapped his arms around his neck and held him and Reigen thought about the times they'd been apart and what they meant, how they blistered, the holes they left in hearts. He realised he'd never thanked Mob for loving him the way he did, knew there was no way of saying it, forever hold your peace.
Mob hung on tightly to him, his arms warm and strong and safe, dry land. Reigen smiled into the kiss, found himself laughing, and Mob pulled away, holding him at arms' length, puzzled.
“What?” he asked, tilting his head.
Reigen pulled his teeth over his bottom lip, reaching out, touching Mob's face. He smiled until it ached.
“Nothing, just...” he said. “...You've grown up.”