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They’re sitting a small and dim bar, a place that Reigen had said he was familiar with. With the way a few other patrons greeted him, Serizawa assumed he was telling the truth. It’s probably been ten minutes since the cheque came and they paid, and now he just wants to go home; he has work in the morning.
He’s been sitting at the table with Reigen, waiting for him to finally say he’s ready to leave, but Reigen’s tipsy, that much is certain. His hands exaggerate more than usual and he hasn’t stopped talking in at least two minutes, but he can’t be that far gone; he couldn’t possibly be that much of a lightweight, right?
When he moves his hand and nearly tips the glass in front of him over - Serizawa catching it halfway with his powers - he has to reevaluate how much he believed Reigen was able to drink.
“We should get you home now,” Serizawa says as he stands up and steps next to Reigen. He ghosts his hand over the other’s back, urging him to stand up.
“No way,” Reigen breathes out, not budging.
“I think we should get going. It’s getting late.” He thinks about picking up Reigen with his powers and just carrying him all the way home, but that would attract more attention than he really wants.
“Seri, you’re not listening to me,” says Reigen, the back of his hand lightly hitting Serizawa’s chest in an attempt to get his attention.
“I’m listening, Reigen-san.” Serizawa tries to pull Reigen out of the booth again but he still won’t move.
Reigen grabs onto the lapels of Serizawa’s suit, dragging him closer and closer until he’s a few inches away from his face.
“Serizawa, I’m a trans man,” he blurts out. “I’m trans.”
Despite all the alcohol swirling around in Reigen’s mind, he must sense something is amiss because he instantly drops Serizawa’s suit and stands up.
“Thank you for telling me,” Serizawa says under his breath.
Reigen is trans? He thinks.
“I actually have something to tell you myself,” he starts to say, but Reigen already seems off of that topic and onto something else, patting his jacket pockets while walking on ahead without the other.
“Ah, shit. I think I forgot something?” Reigen half asks, half announces, while he’s outside of the bar.
Serizawa takes a moment to breathe, too much information hitting him way too fast and all at once.
“Do you mean your keys? You gave them to me earlier so you wouldn’t lose them.” He pats his pockets for emphasis.
“Seri, you’re so good to me,” he says, wrapping his arm around Serizawa’s and leaning against his side. “Always taking such good care of me. I bet you’ll be a good husband.”
Serizawa can feel his heart beating faster at hearing Reigen say that, but Reigen’s mind is already onto the next thing. He’s gotten more talkative and more forgetful as the night went on, and Serizawa figures the best thing to do is to get him home before he starts saying anything else.
He just doesn’t want Reigen-san to be embarrassed in the morning, he tells himself.
“You’d remind me to take off my binder,” Reigen starts, clinging desperately to Serizawa’s arm as they walk. He thinks he better take him home quickly, so he speeds up slightly. “Or when my shots are. I always forget.”
Serizawa keeps the other held up, making sure he doesn’t trip and hurt himself - who knows what consequences that would have the next day. He knows the way to Reigen’s apartment by heart now and guides them there with Reigen only making idle talk about the things he forgets daily - which seems to be a lot.
When they get to his building and unlock the door, wait for the elevator to slowly descend, wait for it to slowly rise to Reigen’s floor, and walk to his apartment, Reigen is suddenly silent. Serizawa can’t tell whether he’s finally sobering up or if Reigen suddenly remembered where he is, but he unlocks the door for the other and hands him back his keys.
He gets a smile in return and he’s pretty sure Reigen’s going to trip on how much stuff is lying around on his floor, but the door closes as he retreats into his apartment.
Serizawa certainly does not yell out Hey Reigen, I’m also trans! when said man’s back is turned, as if it were a love confession from a western romance. Instead, he waits for the elevator to rise, waits for it to descend, and walks back to his apartment alone, wondering how much Reigen’s going to remember of this night tomorrow.
*****
The idea of telling Reigen he’s trans and also asking if he’s trans looms over him when he’s back at his apartment, lying on his bed and trying to sleep.
How do you ask someone if they’re trans! He thinks, letting the pillow fall onto his head. You’ll make a fool out of yourself if you ask. What if he fires you because you asked that question? What if he never wants to talk to you again?
“Urgh,” he grumbles, making the pillow float above his head. “Why is telling people so difficult?”
Not to mention all those things he said about being a good husband. How do you even bring that up?
The pillow drops onto his head. He’s definitely not opposed to a relationship with Reigen.
He figures the best way to deal with this problem would be to not ask at all. He can make comments slyly, watch to see whether or not Reigen will share without having to ask. Asking always led to punishment when he was at Claw, with the President. He didn’t mind speaking his mind whenever he needed to, but asking led to consequences, and the consequences were always worse than he could imagine.
So tomorrow, he’ll get to work earlier than usual and he’ll observe.
*****
As it turns out, Reigen isn’t there first thing in the morning and they were supposed to be opening in less than five minutes. He uses the spare key he was entrusted by Reigen a month ago for emergencies, unlocks the door, and turns the sign around to Come in, we’re open!.
Setting his bag down at his desk, he prepares for Reigen’s arrival by making coffee and turning on his computer.
As luck would have it, Reigen doesn’t arrive at work for another forty minutes - midway through a phone call with a client about his ghost problem. Serizawa thinks he looks dishevelled, like he ran all the way to Spirits and Such and forgot trains existed, but he also looks surprised.
Serizawa finishes the call and bids the client goodbye, hanging up the phone as Reigen walks over to his desk. He notices a slight limp in his leg as he walks and the wince Reigen makes each time he steps on it.
“How come you’re here so early? Doesn’t your shift start in, uh,” Reigen looks at the clock on the wall. “Nevermind. Sorry, I was running late.”
A faint memory winds itself into Serizawa’s memory of the last time Reigen came into work limping with a sore leg - the same leg - if Serizawa can recall correctly. Almost exactly two weeks ago, to be precise. Did he make a comment about it then? He can’t remember.
“Is your leg okay, Reigen-san?” Serizawa asks, glancing down at the aforementioned leg before looking back to his face. A small look of defensiveness crosses it.
“Yeah just, uh, hurt it a bit.” He puts pressure on the leg and immediately winces.
“Is that why you were running late?” Serizawa doesn’t mean to goad him on with his comments, but if Reigen’s hurt he wants to do whatever he can to make him feel better.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s why. Could barely get out of bed this morning.”
“Do you know what made it hurt?”
Serizawa can’t tell if it’s annoyance crossing Reigen’s face or fear, and he makes a mental note to back off a bit.
“Well, I bumped my hip on the side of my counter last night! Must’ve stumbled over something. You’ll know how it is when you’re my age.”
“I’m older than you, Reigen-san,” he says.
“Ah, right…” Reigen glances towards his desk and points with his thumb. “I’m going to get to work. You should, too. I don’t pay you to make idle conversation.”
Serizawa can see the other’s starting to sweat, his hand rubbing the back of his head - a nervous habit that means he’s been called out on a lie - but he doesn’t push further. He simply nods his head and watches Reigen nod back before limping to his own desk.
Didn’t your doctor say you could do a testosterone shot once every two weeks? Serizawa thinks to himself as he pretends to write something down on paper. He doesn’t stand up from his chair, pointing at Reigen, and does not yell “You told me you’re trans last night, Arataka! And you told me I’d be a good husband!”. No. Definitely not willing to do that.
He never really remembers all the different options and they make his head spin when he tries to remember the benefits of shots versus the gels, nevermind how often someone could do an injection. Once he got into the habit of doing his own shot once a week all that knowledge left his mind.
He doesn’t realize he’s been scratching the same circles into the paper until he looks down and sees half a page of spirals. He glances to Reigen to make sure he didn’t see him zoning out, but is greeted with a stare back and furrowed eyebrows.
Serizawa ducks his head and starts to open up one of his emails instead. He reads it aimlessly, reads it again, then closes it and sighs.
“Serizawa, what’s up? You seem out of it today,” Reigen says. “Are you hungover from yesterday?”
I should be asking you that, he thinks, but instead shakes his head.
“Nothing at all! I was just trying to make sense of a client’s request.”
It wasn’t a full lie but it wasn’t the whole truth either; he had been trying to understand what this client had sent him for the past three minutes.
“Hmm,” Reigen hums, drumming a finger on the desk. He stands up suddenly, hands on the desk pushing him up, and stalks over to Serizawa. “Show me what it says, maybe I can help.”
“Here,” he says, twisting the monitor around to face him.
Reigen leans down instead of sitting in the chair, back bent at what must be an uncomfortable angle as he reads the email. Serizawa, despite everything in his mind telling him not to do it, takes his eyes off the other’s face and peers at the slice of skin that shows underneath his suit.
He can see the black strap of an undershirt, barely there but visible when he’s at this awkward angle, and Serizawa averts his eyes back to Reigen’s face.
And he’s met with Reigen’s eyes staring back at him as he not-so-subtly stands up and adjusts his suit.
“So… So what did you think of the message?” Serizawa asks, trying not to panic at getting caught.
Reigen slides a finger across his chin. “Hm, definitely hard to read,” he says and walks back to his desk. “Message them back and tell them to send more details.
Serizawa nods and swivels the monitor back to himself, but his mind is on those few inches of skin he had seen and that black strap.
Instead of doing his job and typing out an email to the client, his thoughts bring him back to the binder he wore years ago - how long as it been since I wore it? - now stuffed into a drawer somewhere in his closet, with no mind to it now.
Maybe he should just straight up ask, he thinks. What’s the harm in asking an innocent question? When he speaks, some part of a filter stops him from fully asking Are you trans, Arataka? Because I am too and really what did you mean when you said I would be a good husband?
“I - um. I also own an undershirt like that,” he says.
Reigen stops doing whatever he was doing at his computer and freezes, looking Serizawa in the eyes slowly, ever so slowly, as his eyebrows furrow together.
Serizawa looks back, holding his breath, and mentally berates himself for that idiotic comment. Reigen doesn’t say anything, mouth slightly agape, and he closes it, then opens it again.
“Yeah it’s um. It’s an undershirt alright,” he finally says and Serizawa feels like he can exhale.
Katsuya, he already walked into work late and he’s probably hungover! You’re probably making him lose any hope he had for this day being good already! Serizawa only feels a bit guilty.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Reigen asks. “Should I send you home for the day or something?”
“No, no, I’m fine! I was just commenting. It was a good undershirt - I used it for years,” he says rapidly, words pouring out faster than he can filter any of it in a desperate attempt to hint to Reigen that he’s trans as well. “I don’t use it anymore, though!”
Reigen relaxes a tiny bit and cocks an eyebrow up. “Yes, good um, undershirt, yeah. How come you don’t use yours anymore?”
Whether or not Reigen was only humoring him with random questions just to see whether or not Serizawa was really doing okay, he’ll never know. He’ll also never know how he’s keeping a conversation about a freaking undershirt-slash-binder for longer than he can hold normal conversations sometimes.
“I stopped needing mine, I could say,” Serizawa says, scratching at the back of his head nervously. “It was more of a comfort thing at the time.”
Reigen nods stiffly and Serizawa smiles back awkwardly. No one knows where to go with this conversation, if they should really go anywhere at all with it, so Serizawa turns back to the computer. He won’t look back to see if Reigen is still staring at him in disbelief.
Nice try, Katsuya, he thinks to himself. Now he thinks you’re some weirdo who looks down his shirt.
He taps a half-hearted reply to the client before the door opens and a client walks in. Reigen enthusiastically greets her despite his previous demeanor.
Serizawa half-listens, more focused on feeling embarrassed about that conversation. When the client walks over to the exorcism room, he snaps out of his thoughts and Reigen walks over to him.
“Another cursed shoulder,” he says to him as he passes. “Shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes. Can you get the bill written up?”
Serizawa nods, reliant in his ability to fill out the bill, and Reigen leaves, knocking on the door to the room and entering slowly. Serizawa finds the receipt paper and starts filling it in.
Another thought rises when he’s done and waiting for Reigen to finish the exorcism - one which Serizawa isn’t sure he really wants to dwell on - and that is that people are usually shirtless when the massages take place.
Has he ever seen Reigen take off his shirt? He rarely sees him without his jacket, the rare times in his button-up shirt and tie draped over his shoulder made the blood pump straight to his face.
There was no real excuse to be shirtless in the office, though. Outside of the office? He could think of at least five good reasons (one or two of which may be a bit inappropriate for the office to begin with). Maybe he could say a ghost is possessing only shirts, maybe rip his own off for emphasis and show his top surgery scars, and maybe Reigen would recognize them and -
Hey, Katsuya, don’t think that! I’m at work! He shakes his head trying to catch himself from going down that daydream any further.
“Um, should I even ask?” Reigen asks, stepping out of the massage room.
Serizawa smiles a small smile. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary.” He berates his face for betraying him. “I have the client’s bill here. Twenty minutes exactly.”
Reigen nods. “I’ll leave you to ring her up.” He walks back to his own desk and starts typing something on his computer.
When the client exits the room Serizawa does just that and soon she’s out of the office and hopefully cured of her curse.
The office remains silent, only the sound of keys being typed on drifts throughout. Serizawa once liked the silence, the comfort of nothing. It reminded him of his years in his room and how there was nothing to be heard. But Reigen’s voice is like a comfort now; the way he speaks, the way he moves his hands. It keeps him busy to talk and Serizawa busy to listen and hang onto every word. He feels uncomfortable in this silence between the two of them.
“I used to have a different name before,” Serizawa says, apropos of nothing, as he tries to fill the silence and continue hinting to Reigen that he’s trans.
Reigen stops his typing and looks over, and Serizawa is unable to place the look he’s getting - something between comfort and confusion.
“Yeah?” is all Reigen says. Serizawa’s not too sure where to go with his own comment either, but he’ll keep talking to fill the silence.
“Yes, I got it changed back when I was with Claw.” He tries not to dwell on the memories of Claw and the President, but most of his memories of transitioning intertwines with his memories there.
Reigen’s look morphs into pity and Serizawa bristles with sadness. That isn’t the look he wanted - if he even wanted any look at all. He wasn’t trying to garner pity from the other.
“Did that guy make you do it?” Reigen asks.
“What do you mean?”
“That guy, you know, the ‘Boss’,” he says, spinning his hand in a circle as if to remember. “Did he make you change your name?”
Serizawa pauses for a moment, trying to think where Reigen got that idea at all.
“No, I changed it when I was with Claw but he didn’t make me do it.”
Reigen nods and Serizawa thinks that he looks a bit more relaxed after saying that.
“Hm.” Reigen hums and looks away for a second. “Me too.”
Serizawa makes a sound of confusion.
“I also changed my name.”
He didn’t expect Reigen to say that, but thinking about it now it sort of makes sense. He’s never met Reigen’s parents (nor really heard him talk about them), but who would name their child something like “Miracle Worker”?
“When did you change it?” Serizawa asks.
Reigen places a hand across his chin in thought. “About five years ago, when I started up Spirits and Such. Had to change my name to match the business, y’know.”
He’s not sitting that close to Reigen where he is, but he can feel his nervousness. His voice doesn’t sound as confident as it always does and he doesn’t move his hands around as much, instead wringing them in his lap. Watching, as if to see it’s safe to keep talking about his life like this.
He wants to know who made Reigen like this - afraid to talk about himself, afraid to drop his act. Was it someone like the President was to Serizawa? Was it someone Reigen had trusted?
Maybe he should have dropped it then, he thinks; continue to work instead of this conversation. But he wants to ask Reigen more questions and tell his own secrets in return. He wants Reigen to feel safe again, that he can talk to him about anything, about something he’s kept hidden from years - probably even from Kageyama-san.
“Do you like your name now?” he asks Reigen.
He pauses a moment, thinking the question through before nodding. “Yeah, I do. It’s memorable, fits in with my tagline: Arataka Reigen, Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century!”
Reigen moves his hand through the air as if he’s practiced his tagline and Serizawa shifts in his chair. The emails forgotten to new secrets they’re learning about each other and no one bothering to get back to them.
“How about you, Katsuya Serizawa.”
And, well, he can’t deny that he certainly likes his name when Reigen says it. Serizawa smiles and shrugs his shoulders.
“I guess I’m the opposite of you, Reigen-san. I wanted a name that didn’t stand out too much. It’s not the most common name but it’s not too showy, either.”
“Oh, so my name’s showy now?” Reigen jokingly says and laughs.
Serizawa laughs politely but stops and smiles. “No no, it’s perfect for you. I think it’s perfect.”
At that comment, Reigen’s laughter cuts off abruptly and Serizawa freezes, panic setting in that he said the wrong thing. Until Reigen turns his head, trying to hide a smile forming on his face, and Serizawa can see the corner of his mouth upturned.
“Thank you,” Reigen says, turned towards the wall, before his head back to face Serizawa. “I think your name is perfect, too.”
Serizawa smiles but he hunches his shoulders in embarrassment at the compliment.
And maybe now, in Spirits and Such at not-quite-lunch o’clock, would be the perfect time to say it, to just open his mouth just say -
“I’m trans.”
They pause and take a few seconds to look at each other. A moment passes, then another, before Reigen is laughing and Serizawa laughs because the other is.
“Jinx,” Reigen says between laughs.
The laughter eventually dies down into smiling at each other from their respective desks; Reigen having hurt his leg again by moving it too fast and Serizawa almost making everything in the office float from excitement.
“I figured I should say something,” Reigen says, pointing a finger at the other. “You were asking such leading questions, I didn’t know if you’d say something obvious.”
“I was asking leading questions because you told me last night,” Serizawa responds. “I wanted to give you a chance to tell me when you weren’t drunk, Reigen-san.”
“Ah. Right, of course.” Reigen nods his head. “That came back to me this morning and I didn’t know if you remembered so I didn’t want to bring it up. Guess we’re both stupid for that.”
Serizawa laughs.
“Also, ‘I owned the same undershirt’? Really, Serizawa?”
He feels his face heating up at his previous comment. “I didn’t know what to say… I felt I had to say something.”
Reigen waved a hand. “Well, it’s out now. I’m trans, you’re trans. Life moves on and we should really get back to answering these emails. There’s a ridiculous amount.”
Serizawa nods, a small smile still on his face. He’s happy that Reigen came out to him and he came out to Reigen, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. But, there’s still one more thing that’s on his mind from the previous night.
“Reigen-san, what else do you remember from last night?”
Reigen tilts his head and makes a face. “Not much else. I remember telling you I’m trans and then you unlocking my apartment for me. That’s about it.”
“So you don’t remember telling me I would be a ‘good husband’?”
If Reigen was drinking any water at that moment, it definitely would have been spilt over his entire desk. “Definitely not.” Followed by a mumbled, “I think I better stop inviting you out to drinks.”
“You said that I’d remind you to take off your binder,” Serizawa says, remembering the previous night’s antics, “and when your shots are.”
Reigen places his face in his hands, elbows on the desk, and Serizawa can see the tips of his ears turn red.
“Urgh,” is all Reigen says to that.
“I think I’d like that,” Serizawa says, pausing as Reigen takes his hands off his face quickly. “To… do those things; remind you to take off your binder, or when your shots are.”
Reigen doesn’t say anything, and Serizawa fears he’s said too much. “I - I mean, those don’t have to be the only things! I’d like to make you breakfast, too. Or coffee, if that’s what you prefer - I don’t really know what you eat in the morning.”
“Serizawa…”
“I’d like to walk you to your apartment and drop you off and -”
“Katsuya,” Reigen says, firmly.
“Er, um. Sorry, I got carried away.” Serizawa scratches the back of his head in nervousness and avoids Reigen’s eye contact.
“Before all of that, how about we go for dinner somewhere tonight? We can close up the office early. My treat.”
He very cautiously looks into Reigen’s eyes, who smiles back at him.
“Yes, I’d like that, Reigen-san.”
“I think you should call me ‘Arataka’ after all of this,” Reigen says.
“Yes, Arataka.” Serizawa smiles at him, at the distance the two of them have crossed over the months of working at Spirits and Such, and Serizawa can only see hope for the future.
He hopes that he’ll live up to Reigen’s intentions and make a good husband.