Work Text:
The moment Reigen wakes up he knows he must have gotten flat-out drunk the previous night again. He has no memory of the actual amount consumed but the sunlight streaming in from the window is too bright, he has a massive headache, and the floating green snot currently in front of his face looks uglier than usual.
"How rude," Dimple sniffs when he tells him that, "and I came to see how you were doing too."
Sitting up with a groan, Reigen takes a bleary look at his surroundings. He'd spent the night in bed, how surprising, and on the top of the bedside drawer he spies a glass of water and aspirins. Another pleasant surprise.
"What time did I come home last night?"
"Two, probably. Maybe three."
His gaze falls back onto the cup of water. "Did Mob leave this for me?"
"Who else?" Dimple rolls his eyes, drifting out of the bedroom, evidently bored with watching Reigen as he slowly comes back to his senses.
Mob... Reigen knows he hates it whenever he stays out to drink without him and comes home after midnight. For all Reigen insists that he's a grown adult now Mob still stays up to makes sure he returns home safely; it both warms his heart and guilt-trips him out of a late night detour to the bar.
That being said, it wasn't really his fault this time—the client last night had been a wealthy regular who likes to discuss things over a cup of alcohol or two—and Mob knows that, so he doesn't complain much when Reigen ends up somewhat tipsy when he returns. At most a frown and some scolding, then he lets it go.
But coming home at three drunk off his feet typically earns him a night on the couch and cold shoulders in the morning. On a good night maybe a change of clothes. No more than that. Most certainly not a morning of waking up in a warm bed to painkillers lovingly left out for him. Had he woken up in an alternate universe?
Reigen downs the water and pills before sliding out of bed, hissing a little when the cold floorboards press upon the soles of his feet. He stumbles over the threshold of the bathroom but otherwise washing up goes off without a hitch.
Dimple sniggers to himself when Reigen steps out of the bedroom, attention captured by something on his phone. Reigen makes a grab for it but he floats out of his reach, still laughing.
"Ugh, watch it, I'll tell Mob to exorcised you..." Reigen glares, "Where is he anyways? Isn't it a Sunday?"
"Oh, he went out for an errand."
"An errand?"
Dimple makes an impatient sound, "Right, by the way, there's something waiting for you at the dining table. You might want to check it out."
Still squinting at the spirit, Reigen turns slowly and makes his way down the stretch of corridor. The morning has been very weird so far and he really does not know what he should be expecting to find.
The surprise turns out to be breakfast, the sort that looks like something they might have on an anniversary date. (Immediately he tries to recall if there's anything happening today but to no avail; it is ordinary in every way he might think of.)
Reigen can't tear his eyes away. On the table there are two sunny-side up eggs cooked to perfection, together with freshly crisped bacon and a small pile of pancakes by the side. There is a bowl of fresh fruits still dewy from the wash and a small cup of berries by the side. His stomach lets out an appreciative growl.
"This, uh..."
Dimple floats over, still hovering beyond his reach, "Yeah, those are yours."
"M-mob made these?"
"I'm surprised too, he got up three hours before you just to prepare this whole thing, then made me promise to watch over it before he went out. It was getting boring so I went to check on your ugly mug instead."
Collapsing onto one of the seats, Reigen tries unsuccessfully to process the sight in front of him. He didn't even know Mob had it in him to whip up something like this. Did anything happen between coming home drunk and going to bed? He ransacks his brains but nothing turns up.
There's a piece of folded paper to one side, presses neatly beneath the plate of pancakes. Reigen pulls it free, unfolds it, the paper crinkling softly in his hands.
Arataka,
I will be back soon, please have some food in the meantime. Hope you had a good rest.
Love you <3
-S
"...Am I dreaming?" Reigen turns to ask Dimple finally, pinching himself on the cheeks. "Is that an actual heart doodle? From Mob?"
"Oh man, you really don't remember."
"Remember what? And give me back my phone."
Dimple shrugs, coming down to poke at a piece of pancake, leaving his phone on the top of a bookshelf nearby. Freshly hungover, Reigen really isn't in the mood to play along with him so he starts on breakfast instead, secretly hoping that it isn't actually just a convoluted plot by Mob to get back at him for getting so drunk again. Nah, he won't do that. Probably.
He's just about done with the second piece of pancake when Dimple drops his phone in front of him. It clatters loudly upon hitting the tabletop, narrowly missing the egg.
"Fine, be boring," the spirit grouses, "You wanna know what happened last night? Go check your album."
Side-eyeing him, Reigen asks carefully, "Why are you being so helpful all of a sudden?"
"I'm entertaining myself. Go on, check it out."
Unlocking his phone, Reigen clicks into his media album. There's a new video at the very bottom. After a moment of hesitation he clicks on it, aware of the gleeful gaze eagerly watching him.
The video starts playing.
"You– you go away," a hoarse shout sounds from somewhere off the screen. The camera swivels around to focus on the couch and the visible mop of hair hiding behind it.
Mob is standing a few feet away. He has a hand over his mouth but it doesn't stop the laughter from filtering through. "Arataka, come on, you need to change," he says.
"Shigeo, use brute force!" Someone shouts from off the screen. It sounds like Dimple's voice. The camera shakes with laughter when Mob bends down with his hands out only for Reigen to shoot away from him, coming into view and dragging himself around the other side of the couch.
Reigen appears flushed and unfocused, limbs wild and uncoordinated. He yelps again when Mob puts an arm around his neck and tries to take off the tie.
"Stop! I, I'm not cheating on my lover–" he slaps Mob's thigh but it's evidently not hard enough to free him because Mob just laughs again, saying, "Yeah?"
"Yeah! We're married."
"We're not, Arataka," Mob moves on to the buttons. He manages to undo a few of them before Reigen knocks his head back, catching him on the chin. The camera pans out just enough for the screen to include both Mob with a hand on his face mouthing 'ow' and Reigen sprawled on the floor, trying to do up his unbuttoned shirt. The off-screen snigger continues, the camera trembling with badly repressed laughter.
Reigen pauses the video.
"Why the hell did you film this, anyways?" He looks up, asking Dimple with a slight glare.
Dimple grins, "I trust my instincts when they say something good is coming. I'm right, by the way. Watch on."
So Reigen does.
Mob leans forward again, this time stretching out a hand starting to glow. The tip of his hair ruffles gently as though touched by a breeze. Reigen's shirt starts to unbutton itself.
"Wait wait wait–" the other man shrieks, arms wrapped tightly around himself in an attempt to keep down the floating fabric, "My, my husband's an esper too, he'll make you regret it!"
The expression on Mob's face is a mix of helpless amusement and wonder. "Husband, huh..." he mutters, more to himself, but somehow Reigen picks it up through his own panicked yelling.
"We will be, we," he tries to sit up but topples and mashes his cheek against the ground instead. "Soon enough we will."
The camera whips around to a familiar green face. "Oh boy," Dimple mock-whispers towards the screen, waggling his eyebrows, "somebody's got a secret tonight."
When the camera turns back to Mob he is sitting up straight, intrigued. "Arataka, what do you mean?"
From the ground Reigen glares back, muttering just loud enough for his words to be captured on camera, "I've already got a ring–"
This time Reigen almost breaks the phone screen when he smashes the pause button. His entire face has grown a deathly pale. The hand holding onto his phone is trembling.
He glances weakly at Dimple, words coming out almost a whisper, "Did I... I..."
"You haven't even gotten to the best part yet." Ever helpful, Dimple continues the video for him and Reigen has no choice but to watch the disaster continue to unfold on screen.
Reigen struggles to sit up, continuing, "I've. It's in my drawer. You just– just wait."
"Arataka..." Mob breathes, eyes wide, the disbelief evident on his face. He shuffles closer to Reigen who gives up fighting gravity to lean on his arm, saying, "Help me up."
It takes a few seconds of fumbling before the both of them stands up again, Mob with an arm securely looped around Reigen's waist, supporting him. They start unsteadily for the bedroom as the camera follows after them. Once or twice Mob hesitates in his footsteps, looking down at the drunk man beside him, but Reigen pulls him along impatiently whenever it happens, appearing more determined than ever.
When they make it to the bedroom one of the lamps switches on by itself after a flash of Mob's powers. Still leaning heavily on Mob, Reigen drags them both to the bedside drawer. Once there, he untangles their limbs and drop to his knees, pulling out the bottommost drawer and rummaging through it as Mob continues to stand there, staring.
Dimple pipes up, "Shigeo, you okay?"
Mob nods at the camera. He doesn't look alright at all; face red as though he's the one who's gotten drunk instead of Reigen.
"Ah!" Sounding pleased, Reigen turns back around with a small box in his hand, narrowly missing hitting his head on the hard edge of the drawer. He glances up at Mob who looks weak-kneed and says, "This. Told you we're getting married."
Mob takes the box with trembling hands when Reigen thrusts it up at him, looking at it with something like awe. "That... but you, you haven't proposed yet..."
"I've been trying to, oh my god, cut me a break!" Reigen snaps, slumping back, "You think 'oh, it'll be so easy, just pop the question' and then you spend two months just trying to swallow your own nerves first..."
Upon hearing that Mob really sinks to the ground with a thud, his legs folding neatly below him. "Two, two months?" His voice comes out an octave too high.
Reigen startles, then squints at him carefully, face coming close. Recognition flashes across his face. "...Wait. You're. You're Mob."
Off-screen, Dimple's voice: "Took you long enough."
Reigen's face grows redder, almost impossibly so, jaws slack and eyes wide—and then he recovers the next moment, snatching the box back from behind Mob's fingers and earning himself a small yelp of surprise.
"M-might as well..." he mutters, fumbling with it, almost dropping it as the lid pops open with an audible 'click'. A shaking hand comes up to grasp the ring inside tightly. He overestimates as he leans into Mob's space and ends up halfway on him, still clutching tight to the ring.
"Your hand, gimme." Mob complies.
Reigen grips his hand and tries to slide the ring onto his fingers but misses it the first time. The second time too. He's frowning, a hint of tongue sticking out when Mob can't bear to watch any longer, his other hand closing around Reigen's, steadying it. Together they watch, hushed and breaths held, as the ring finally finds its way around the length of Mob's slender finger.
A moment of sudden panic flashes across Reigen's face. "Shit, I forgot to ask!" he gasps, then composes himself immediately, clearing his throat.
"Kageyama Shigeo... will you marry me?"
Eyes dewy, Mob pulls him into a kiss, smiling into it.
The video ends there.
Reigen spends ten seconds staring at the screen, mind carefully blank, and then he rewatches it again. After playing it for the second time he lets the phone fall facedown on the tabletop and slides off his chair onto the floor.
"Dimple." The spirit perks up at the mention of his name and follows Reigen down to where he stays slumped, still wearing that shit-eating grin.
"Yes, you called?"
"Please kill me right now. I'm sure Mob will understand." Reigen wilts visibly under Dimple's bark of laughter, curling in on himself and drawing his knees up to his chest. He's halfway through a fantasy of starting a new life under some fake alias when the sound of the apartment door opening reaches his ears.
Reigen still can't summon the strength to clamber up and hide so he simply lies there in wait of death. The footsteps grow louder until they stop short just behind him. A pause, a rustle of fabric, then a warm hand ruffles through his hair.
"You alright there?" Mob asks him. Reigen can hear the teasing laughter in his voice and he doesn't move from his spot, instead devoting all his energy into praying for an out. Spontaneous combustion, perhaps. That would be a cool way to go.
Dimple flashes him a sneer. "I showed him the video," he tells Mob. The hand on his head withdraws and Mob steps over his body with ease, bending down in front of him. There is a small, elegant bag in his hand.
Mob smiles, "Hey there."
"...Go away."
"Is this how you talk to your fiancé?"
Somewhere above him Reigen can hear the sound of Dimple picking up his phone but he's too busy twisting away from Mob in embarrassment to care. Mob cheats with his powers; he pulls him up into a sitting position despite a snap of 'hey, don't use that on people!' and sneaks a kiss off his lips.
"What do you want?" Reigen glares at him.
In lieu of a reply Mob simply peels off the transparent seal on the mouth of the bag he's holding on to. Only now does Reigen notice the ring sitting innocently on his finger, disappearing from sight as his hand dips into the bag and reappearing along with a small box retrieved. Reigen's eyes glances down at the logo on the bag, printed in small, neat letters. He feels himself freeze; he recognises this brand, had been there just two months ago too.
Mob is kneeling in front of him. Reigen doesn't dare to breathe as he watches him take the lid off the box and lift out a ring, pinched gently between his fingers.
"Arataka," Mob smiles, bashful. I love you, Reigen thinks suddenly, almost furiously so, his eyes on him, only him. Now too, for the rest of their lives. His face burns when Mob takes hold of his hand and slides the ring carefully onto his finger, the metal cool against warm skin. Reigen barely dares to look at all.
Mob doesn't ask because he has no need to; he kisses him instead.
I love you too. I do.