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1.
Okay, so maybe this is all Reigen's fault for not paying attention, but he's made clear just how sorry he is, numerous times, so could Mob please stop glaring at the back of his head?
It's not like he's about to make this into a common occurrence—them, drenched from head to toe, stranded at some cash-only motel in the middle of nowhere with a raging typhoon outside, with barely enough money for a room between the two of them even after getting paid by their client of the day.
"I'll reimburse you," Reigen promises as Mob hands over the last of his coins.
He tries negotiating with the clerk at the counter but she clearly isn't paid enough to care and refuses to budge. They all know he doesn't have a choice anyway, what with this weather, so Reigen gives up with a sigh and snatches the key from her, grumbling to Mob all the way up the stairs.
Reigen eyes Mob's sodden gakuran when they finally arrive at the room. "You should go wash up before you catch a cold, I'll give your parents a call in the meantime."
Mob hesitates, "What about you? You're drenched too."
"Are you questioning the vitality of your shishou's immune system? Please, this immense psychic power of Reigen Arataka, Rising Star of the 21st century, can deal with not only spirits but viruses too, there's no need to worry."
"Are you sure-"
"Have you ever seen me sick, Mob?"
Mob thinks about it. Reigen interrupts his thoughts, "The answer is no, Mob, you haven't. Because I don't get sick and I'm not about to start now. Now go and shower."
The bathroom door finally shuts as Reigen dials for the Kageyama household. Ritsu picks up on the first ring but his voice turns venomous upon hearing Reigen's voice. At least he passes the phone to his father dutifully, after a few jabs at the man.
Just as he'd hoped, Mob's father barely bats an eye at their situation, rebuffing Reigen's apology good-naturedly, "We know Shigeo is in good hands."
"Thank you, you're too kind. I'll send him back first thing in the morning."
"There's no need to rush, it's the weekends anyway. Might as well enjoy the motel breakfast, right?"
This motel has no breakfast service but Reigen agrees anyway. Maybe he'll treat Mob to something nice before bringing him home tomorrow. Mob deserves it at least.
Hanging up, Reigen knocks on the bathroom door. "Give me your clothes, I'll lay them out to dry."
When Mob doesn't respond he knocks again and repeats himself louder. When there's still no response Reigen curses, heart seizing, and finds the door unlocked when he tries the knob. When he bursts in Mob's eyes are closed, face almost fully submerged in the water. He startles when Reigen grabs his shoulders and drags him up.
"Are you alright?" It comes out breathless, though now he can see that he's perfectly fine. Mob blinks.
"Sorry, did you call me? I couldn't hear."
He seems sorry enough, red in the face, though maybe some of that is from the heat of his bathwater. Sighing, Reigen lets go of him, and Mob sinks down again, water coming up to his jaw.
"It's fine, I'll put your clothes near the air-conditioner, yeah? Pardon the rude entry but give me a moment," Reigen says, gathering the wet pile of uniform and wringing the wet out of them in the sink. Mob doesn't respond but he supposes the kid is tired anyway. Once he's done he heads for the door and closes it without looking at Mob, god knows how embarrassed he must be, to have his boss and mentor suddenly barge in when he's stark naked.
Mob takes an awfully long time in the bathroom and Reigen's half-tempted to knock again, when he comes out with a towel tied at the waist, still blushing like Dimple had possessed him.
"My uh... I don't have underwear..."
Fuck, Reigen knew something was nagging at him. He glances at the clothes laid out, still miserably wet, and Mob by the bathroom door, staring resolutely at the floor, and comes to a decision.
"Alright, stay here, I'll make a quick run for the Family Mart nearby, they'll accept card payment."
"But it's dangerous outside."
"It's just a little way down, I saw it when we were coming here. I'll be back soon."
Mob still looks hesitant but Reigen is already jumping into action, stumbling out of the door. He throws the keys at Mob who barely catches it with his powers and hears him say something, but he's already bounding down the stairs by the time he registers it. Whatever it was, it can probably wait.
When Reigen returns with a packet of disposable boxers, Mob is still sitting by the bed dutifully. He winces when he sees Reigen and the rapidly forming puddle beneath him.
"Thank god they had one with three sizes," Reigen tears open the packet and takes one out, handing the rest to Mob who looks beet red again, "Unfortunately they don't sell clothes, but I got an umbrella—useless in this wind, it turns out—and milk for you."
"Thanks, shishou."
"Yeah, yeah, go get dressed."
Hot water is the greatest invention of humankind, Reigen decides, basking in the glorious heat. After a while, he wills himself to turn it off and reach for the soap. Already he feels a slight shiver returning. He should have brought himself a hot drink too. Oh well, nothing a good soak can't fix.
The bathroom door suddenly creaks open when he's rinsing off the shampoo in his hair. Reigen yelps, turning, and his eyes meet Mob's for a split second before he slips backwards on the soapy water.
"Shishou!"
The next moment Reigen is floating in mid-air. An undignified sound escapes as Mob lowers him into the tub gently, looking anywhere else but at him.
"I- you weren't answering me either. I wanted to dry your clothes for you like you did mine."
Reigen can't trust his voice so he nods and Mob scrambles for his clothes, nearly tripping in his haste. Only when Mob's out again does Reigen let out the breath he's been holding. If any more scares happen tonight his heart might give out. He wants to chastise Mob for bursting in but what can he say, when he did the exact thing just earlier?
In the end Reigen decides against the bath, his embarrassment melting away into fatigue. Mob fidgets, giving him a once-over when he comes out, freshly damp towel slung over his shoulder. Honestly Reigen is too tired to pick at his brain, so he crosses the room and sinks into the lounge chair in the corner with a groan.
"You can take the bed, I'm about to pass out," Reigen says in Mob's general direction, eyes closed. It's actually pretty comfy here, huh.
He can hear Mob's frown when he protests, "You'll end up with a crick in your neck."
"'S fine, Mob. Go sleep."
Then he feels Mob's powers envelop him for the second time that night. Reigen makes a vague gesture weakly as it tucks him in on one edge of the bed but then Mob flips the light switch too and darkness descends on them.
"We can share the bed." Mob's voice is soft but firm.
Reigen knows he should fight him on it properly, knows if it were any other time he would draw the line at getting in the same single-sized bed with his underaged disciple when they're both wearing nothing but underwear. Even if they're just caught in an unfortunate situation, he can see how bad it looks from a mile away, imagine the doubt and disgust he'd feel if he were on the outside looking in, and he'd talk some sense into Mob's head but his tongue is lead and his eyes are closing without permission.
Still, he tries, slurring, "C'mon, Mob. Don't be stupid..."
"Sleep, shishou," Mob tells him.
So he does.
Reigen wakes up the next day with all four of Mob's limbs attached snugly across his torso like a grappling hook. It's the worst way to wake; he's suddenly keenly aware of how there's only one flimsy piece of fabric in between them, and there's something really suspicious pressed against him.
Reigen almost chokes. "Mob! Mob, wake up!"
A groan behind him. He starts peeling the hands off him, those grabby things, and Mob finally comes to when Reigen politely removes his offending leg. Reigen can pinpoint the exact moment his brain catches up, because Mob freezes for a second, then tumbles out of bed, stammering an apology, and staggers into the bathroom for refuge.
Reigen's not so cruel as to tease him about teenage hormones, but this is really pushing it.
Some part of him is screaming that they need to talk about this, to make sure Mob knows how inappropriate and awkward it was even if he wasn't at fault, but the longer Mob stays in the bathroom, the more Reigen's resolve melts and his worry grows.
Finally he can't take it anymore.
"... Mob? Are you okay?"
Reigen continues when Mob doesn't reply, "I'm not mad, it's just a thing that happens, alright? Not the whole sleeping in the same bed situation—just to clarify, I'll make sure that doesn't happen again, my bad—but the, uh, you get me. Bodies tend to do what they want, just ignore it and it'll go away."
"I'm fine," Mob's voice is muffled through the door. Reigen can't tell if he sounds upset or not.
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
Seems like Mob needs another moment, so Reigen withdraws and checks on their clothes instead. They're cold and damp, not to mention crumpled, but maybe Mob can shake the last bit of water out with his powers. Breakfast awaits them after all.
When Mob comes out Reigen checks his eyes for redness but he seems fine if kind of pink and sweaty. There's a weird scent in the air but Reigen ignores it in favour of scrutinising Mob, who flushes more and doesn't meet his eyes. Maybe he feels humiliated, Reigen supposes. That theory holds when Mob keeps sneaking glances at him through their breakfast together and the cab ride home.
It takes Reigen all the way till a week later to figure out what that smell was.
2.
Apparently the universe thought it would be funny to curse some poor, single soul on Valentine’s Day. Seems legitimate too, with the way her voice was shaking during the call. Hopefully not too troublesome a case. Reigen dials Mob’s number before his mind even catches up; it’s muscle memory at this point.
“Hey, shishou,” Mob answers after the first ring.
“Yo, Mob, can you... uh…” suddenly Reigen’s not sure if he should even be calling him, never mind that Mob doesn’t have a girlfriend to spend the day with (or even a crush, as far as Reigen is aware at least). They already spend so much time together, Mob deserves to have some special days off too. What Mob had said to him during their fallout when he'd been fourteen comes back to Reigen, clear as day, and he suppresses a wince. Leave it to his dubious morals to make an appearance at the most inconvenient times.
Before he could hang up, Mob says, “It’s a job, right? I’ll head to the office," and the call disconnects.
Well, there’s that then. Reigen would protest but it’s not his fault if Mob wants to volunteer his precious time. Somehow it feels like Mob has been doing that a lot more lately, dropping by here and there even during his days off, just because he feels like it. Reigen still gives him his wages because ugh, morals, but he wonders about it.
Turns out it’s a rather simple job and Mob exorcises the ghastly culprit with an easy wave of his hand. The lady, no doubt charmed by Reigen's natural charisma and Mob's gentle reassurances that her curse is gone for good, gives them a bonus on top of the usual payment, and that's what Reigen uses to order parfaits for the both of them later, at one of the new cafes he’s been meaning to try. He should have known they’d be surrounded by teenage couples though, a miscalculation on his part.
When Reigen sneaks a look at Mob between mouthfuls of sweetness and his own ramblings, he finds that Mob doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Mob seems content where he is. Behind him, the couple a few seats down shares a disgustingly sappy kiss across the table. Something in Reigen’s gut tightens.
That uneasy feeling comes back again later when they’re parting ways and Mob turns to him, eyes lingering just that bit longer, a strange expression on his face, as though he’s expecting something more from Reigen and looking almost a little disappointed after he realises that Reigen hasn't gotten the memo. Reigen swallows. What sort of weird thoughts is Mob thinking now?
"Could we take a walk?"
"What? A walk?"
"Yeah," Mob hums, "It's good weather for one."
Reigen has to admit he's right. It's evening now, almost sunset. The first shades of orange have already appeared over the horizon, soon the rest will follow. He supposes he could indulge him.
Mob leads and he follows. They don't seem to be going anywhere as much as they're wandering aimlessly, but that's probably the point of taking a walk. The journey rather than the destination. It makes Reigen a little restless, though, to not have a goal, so he ends up rambling on as usual. And as usual, Mob doesn't seem to mind.
When Mob stops walking Reigen looks around. He recognises this place, this bridge. It's... well he's by no means sentimental, but this place...
Mob has a hand on the railing, looking over the water. He doesn't turn to Reigen when he asks, "Do you remember what I'd said to you?"
Of course Reigen does. In lieu of a reply he comes over to his side and leans over, staring at the gently lapping waves. He's not sure if his throat is still working.
"I know we never talked about it because there was no need to," Mob says, "but I just feel like bringing it up again."
"Why?"
"To make sure you still know that I mean it."
It feels like their roles have reversed. Usually Reigen is the one talking riddles over Mob's head, but today he just can't figure him out. Admittedly he's been feeling more and more of that lately. Mob is so young but he's not fourteen anymore, and Reigen is no longer his sole confidant. He wonders what Mob is trying to say in this strange, roundabout way.
Reigen must have been staring, because now Mob's smiling at him, one of those soft ones he doesn't get to see a lot, the one that almost makes him look a little mature.
"What's on your mind?" Reigen blurts out before he can stop himself. The atmosphere between them has changed and it makes him nervous that Mob doesn't mind it, that he's out of the loop.
Mob shakes his head and looks out again. "It's nothing," he says, "I should be heading home for dinner now."
"Can you still eat after that parfait?"
"I did give you one-third of it, so I still have space."
Reigen snorts, "Was that why? I thought you weren't a fan of parfaits. Either way I'm stuffed, no dinner for me."
"See you tomorrow, then," Mob turns to go and Reigen waves goodbye at him. Then, as though an afterthought, he looks back and adds, "Thank you for the date."
By the time Reigen’s brain kicks back into action, Mob had already disappeared around the corner.
Well, that's concerning. Understatement of the century.
Did Mob misunderstand something between them? Is he trying out new pick-up lines on his unsuspecting shishou? Is 'date' now some form of cool kids' lingo for something else? Whatever it is, tomorrow Reigen will set the record straight and maybe shake some sense into him, if needed.
Except… he doesn’t really know how to bring it up without sounding too awkward and unlike himself, so Reigen does what he does best and smooths over that incident instead. Whatever. They don’t have to talk about it, there's nothing to address. Maybe Reigen had heard it wrong in the first place and what would that look like, if he confronted Mob and Mob didn't have the faintest idea of what he's referring to?
3.
When his alarm goes off Reigen nearly tumbles off the bed, wide-eyed, heart hammering.
No. Fucking. Way.
He's had his fair share of weird, inexplicable dreams, but holy shit. Reigen groans, suddenly itching for a cigarette again after so many years. He heads to the bathroom instead. A cold shower, to shock some sense back into his systems.
It's not like he's blind. Mob is as tall as him now, having just gone through another growth spurt. That, together with the summer uniform, gives Mob a very pleasant silhouette. He's still in the body improvement club. Reigen isn't blind; he sees those toned curves, those strong hands, that tan line hidden just above the edge of his uniform sleeve... not that he's imagined anything, mind you. Just, he has eyes and those eyes happen to find Mob in their line of sight. Maybe a little too frequently. He appreciates those changes, from a strictly aesthetic point of view.
Reigen hisses when the cold water hits. Don't dwell on it, he tells himself, going through the motions and soaping himself up.
There's a regular client scheduled later, and another tomorrow. He may have to stock up on oils sometimes this week. Perhaps some fertiliser for his new plant too. Maybe tonight, if he closes shop early. Mob's busy with club activities today anyway, but maybe he'll be free for dinner. Think they've been focusing on weights training lately.
Mob, lifting weights... sweat-drenched and determined...
Reigen exhales. He's standing in the shower shivering like a vibrator at seven in the morning, and for what?
Pieces of the dream come back to him gleefully. Mob, cornering him in the exorcism room (massage room, his brain supplies helpfully), pressing into him until he hit the bed, leaning so close that Reigen was almost lying flat on his back. He'd seen those eyes many times before, that piercing gaze, his hundred per cent.
A strong tug of arousal knocks the air out of his lungs before he can stomp it down. Reigen turns off the water, the sound of his too-loud breaths oppressive in the following silence.
Maybe he's been stressed lately. Maybe Reigen has been letting it build up in him, or maybe it's just one of those days. It doesn't have to mean anything if he takes care of himself here and now. In fact, that's one less distraction to deal with later in the day once he's done. If anything Reigen is doing himself a favour.
He should shower, and move on. He's making it weird by overthinking. He's pathetic.
Reigen closes his eyes, reaches down, and tries to think of anything but that stupid, familiar bowl cut.
4.
Reigen doesn't drink a lot, but when he does, he goes to his regular place where the bartender knows just how much of a lightweight he is and adjusts the alcohol content accordingly.
Unfortunately, tonight there's a new face at the counter. Reigen had meant to keep himself in check—it's not like he needs to be babied, he can sip his drink, stretch it out and all that jazz, really, but he hasn't been the most clear-headed lately. Those dreams just kept coming ever since that first one and Reigen feels as though he's driving himself crazy trying to get rid of them.
So maybe he had forgotten about pacing himself. Maybe he'd gone a few more rounds, too caught up in the flow of things. Maybe he didn't realise that his drink was much stronger than his usual until it was too late.
By the time Reigen realises his mistake, his cheek is already plastered to the counter, head pounding and barely coherent. When he tries to sit up properly his arms turn to jelly. It'd be easier if there's someone here to lean on.
Reigen fumbles for his phone. He dials. The call goes through.
Did Mob say something? Whatever, he's too drunk to catch it anyway. Mumbling the address into the phone, Reigen flops back down on the counter, hoping that it came out clear enough for Mob to catch. He's never passed out by the streets before and he doesn't feel the need to start doing that anytime soon. A small part of him feels uneasy—should he even be calling Mob?—but it's quickly forgotten.
He almost dozes off when someone slides up beside him. Who're they talking to?
And then he's dragged up, an arm draped over the stranger's shoulder. Somehow he feels light, almost floaty. Reigen mulls over it as they make their way out of the bar and into the chilly night. He could be mistaken but it even seems like he's hovering, just slightly.
Someone is talking into his ear. Reigen tries to clear his head.
"Wuh...?"
"I said, next time if you want to get drunk, you should bring me along. I'll take care of you."
It's not like he was planning to get this drunk though.
"Still... I worry about you."
Reigen can take care of himself, thank you very much. Anyway this was just a miscalculation, it won't happen again. The hangover tomorrow is going to drill that lesson into him if anything.
He must have zoned out for most of the way, because now he's lying down and it feels comfortable. Belatedly Reigen realises that his jacket is gone, and so are his shoes. Someone is pulling on his collar. He tries to bat the hand away and finds that his tie has disappeared too. When cold fingers touch his collarbone Reigen shivers.
He would have liked to stay up a bit more but sleepiness hits him all of a sudden and he can't fight the resultant yawn.
Eventually, he's lulled to sleep by the gentle, relaxed stroking of his hair.
The next morning Reigen finds a painkiller and a cup of water left out on the nightstand. Last night's memories rush back to him in one fell swoop and he almost chokes.
He hasn't gone drinking since then. Can't afford for that to happen again. Thankfully Mob never brings it up either, and soon enough Reigen can put the sensation of Mob's hand in his hair at the very back of his mind.
5.
"Do you want to move somewhere closer to the office?"
Reigen looks up from his desk, surprised, and Mob continues, "I'm planning to rent a place nearer to the university. There's this apartment I've been considering and it'd be nice if I could share the cost with someone."
"But with me? Really?"
"It's a good location for the both of us, and I was hoping it could be someone who's used to my powers."
Those are valid points. Reigen considers it. "What about your friends? Isn't Tome going to the same university?"
"She already has a place with her high-school friends. Plus I don't know if she'd be comfortable sharing an apartment with a guy."
Mob's desperation is starting to seep through; they both know Tome doesn't give a shit, she's stayed enough times for overnight jobs with them during her time working here. If anything Mob was the more awkward one between them, though he'd grown out of that too.
Reigen considers the offer. To be honest, it's been a little lonely by himself every night, coming back to his dark, cramped space. A change of pace would be nice. His lease is almost up anyway, and-
"It's fifty-thousand yen for two bedrooms, there's a living area and kitchen too. And it's right beside the station, though I think it's close enough to walk to the office," Mob says, then adds when Reigen's jaw dropped, "I exorcised some spirits for the landlady. Apparently they've been around for a while, so she agreed on this price as long as I help her again if they come back."
"Well," Reigen manages, as though his mind isn't already made up, "Let's take a look at the apartment then."
The landlady lets them in easily before heading back down, evidently already trusting Mob with the place. It's a few floors up and Reigen gets a good view of the nearby park from the balcony. He bets it's where Mob would go for his morning runs, once he's settled down. The kitchen area is a little small but he usually eats out so he doesn't mind it. Neither does Mob, who barely spares a glance before moving on to one of the rooms and appraising it from the doorway.
"Shishou, do you have a preference?"
"You can take the bigger room, I don't have a lot of stuff. If you don't mind, I'll leave some of the furniture outside so we can share, like a couch or coffee table, and you won't have to spend on those either."
"Are you sure? About the room I mean. I really don't mind the smaller one."
Reigen shrugs, peering over his shoulders at the empty walls. "I mean, if you ever bring someone back here, you'd want to leave a good impression right? There's more space to work with-"
Mob turns so fast that their faces almost collide.
"I won't be bringing anyone," he insists with a slight frown.
Reigen frowns too, leaning back. "You can't be serious, university is the best time to expand your social circles. Once those years have passed you're going to regret not dating when you can."
"Do you regret it, then?"
"W-what?"
Mob's stare makes him want to take a step back instinctively, but Reigen squashes the impulse. He knows Mob is... a bit slow on the uptake, compared to his peers, and common sense to him doesn't always come easy. Deep down he wonders if it's partly his fault, that Mob had ended up with a skewed sense of direction in life. Just because he looks up to Reigen, who has no semblance of a love life, who has never felt the urge to date, doesn't mean that he needs to be the same way too.
"I'm just saying, it's good to give these things a try. Maybe something lasting will come out of it. You think I wanted to be a loveless old man?"
"But you don't regret it, do you? And you're fine the way you are now."
"... True, I don't regret it. That doesn't mean my advice is to be taken lightly though. I deserve more credit, as your shishou. You'll understand when you're older," Reigen sniffs, "and I'm not budging. Take the bigger room."
"Thank you for the advice, I appreciate it," Mob says seriously. Reigen knows he's trying to placate him but it works anyway, the bastard. At his insistence Mob finally agrees to take the bigger room, even if not for Reigen's intended reason, so that's settled too.
When it's time for the paperwork, it turns out that Mob hadn't even discussed things with his parents, so they postpone it and Reigen chews him an earful over dinner. Mob smiles throughout the entire meal; it's like talking to a wall when they both know the only resistance Mob is going to face about this decision would come from his brother.
Mob isn't very expressive but Reigen swears he saw an extra spring in his steps, watching him go. On his own way home now, Reigen finds himself humming, thinking about the apartment. It would be nice to have a flatmate, he hadn't lived with someone else since his own university days. Though they've all fallen out of touch since graduation, he misses those times more than he'd thought he would, learning to share a space with each other, taking comfort in the knowledge that another soul is nearby especially when the nights get lonely.
Though sharing a place isn't without complaints, whether it be chores or guests. He knows exactly how long he would last (four whole days) if a next-door neighbour decides to take it upon himself and make passionate love to his girlfriend every fucking night, all the way till three a.m. Well, Mob isn't like that, so there's no need to get another pair of industrial-strength earplugs.
Reigen almost wishes Mob were like that, to be honest. The thought stops him dead in his tracks.
It feels exhausting, somehow. The way Mob has been getting closer over the years, his unnerving determination to close a perceived gap between them. Reigen's aware of it. He doesn't know what to do about it, and sometimes he doesn't even realise that Mob had taken yet another step towards his direction until much later.
There is no point standing like an idiot in the middle of the streets so Reigen starts walking again, thinking as he goes. It's hard to pinpoint when their dynamics first started changing. Why did he even want to put distance between them in the first place? He comes up blank no matter how hard he ponders it. So what if Mob wants to waste his youth? He's no longer a kid, and Reigen refuses to be his parent. If Mob is content with his single life it's none of Reigen's business.
Feels good to come to a decision. Feels even better to look forward to their shared apartment. Reigen hums all the way home.
+1.
Reigen prides himself on a lot of things—he has a successful business running for a few years now, a proven track record with tending to plants, and he is also one of the most well-adjusted individuals to ever adjust in the world. It comes with the territory of being painfully average yet exposed to the world of spirits and espers on a regular basis; he's perfectly clear of where he stands in society and his role in it.
Well-adjusted individuals have important, healthy relationships that connect them to the world at large. Well-adjusted individuals are good at setting boundaries with these relationships. These boundaries that well-adjusted individuals set, Reigen fathoms a guess, probably include ‘not kissing your student slash part-time employee whom you have known since he was eleven'.
Mob draws back and Reigen suddenly remembers how to breathe again.
"Shishou..." Mob murmurs, watching him wheeze, "It's about time, huh."
"A-about time for nothing! Nothing is happening!"
"You knew, didn't you? The way it would end if you keep accepting my advances."
"That was- I mean- You're just-"
"Arataka."
Reigen glares but he knows there's no real heat to it. Mob had wrangled it out of him a long time ago. "Shigeo," he huffs, just because he can.
"Are you consenting?" Direct as ever.
"I'm, well, not necessarily not consenting per se... but that's not the only issue! You think you can do whatever you want just because you're all grown up now, and I'm telling you, you gotta think of the big picture-"
Mob sighs. "Push me off if you don't want this."
As Reigen makes his last-ditch attempt at drawing some semblance of a boundary, salvaging what's left of his dignity, Mob leans in again and shuts him up.
Fuck boundaries, Reigen thinks vehemently over Mob's distracting tongue, eyes a little wet, embarrassed beyond measure, Biggest goddamn waste of my time.