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The man groans. As soon as he opens his eyes, he is blasted with a ray of what he can only vaguely assume is sunlight. He lacks the willpower to keep them open — not just because of how sleepy he still feels, but also due to the pounding headache ripping his head apart, starting at the very edges of his temples; as such, he just promptly closes them, resting his head on the soft pillow.
Ah, alcohol. Yes, that definitely is what alcohol usually does to Reigen. He has never been good with it in general, but over the last few years he has got progressively worse. Just a beer is enough to send him flying, in every sense — metaphorical and literal — so he would not be lying if he admitted that he does not remember most of yesterday’s evening.
Well, it would be more precise to say that he remembers some random chunks. He invited Serizawa out for drinks, kind of expecting yet another rejection, but Serizawa agreed, making Arataka freak out ( hopefully not too visibly ). Honestly, that agreement was enough to make him feel a little tipsy, but the blond man did not take matters like this half-heartedly, which for some reason meant that he had to get properly wasted. Shitfaced, even, Reigen contemplates. He had several beers, some cocktail that Serizawa recommended, and god-knows what else. He definitely did at least one shot, very eager to demonstrate to everybody in the room — but especially Serizawa — his ability to drink shots without using his hands.
His eyes are still closed, but he feels himself frown on reflex. He gets unbearably cringe when drunk, so he is not sure where his judgment was at all when he decided to invite Serizawa out for specifically drinks. He just certainly knows that he was not a pretty sight, and would not be surprised if tomorrow at work the taller man simply avoided eye contact with Reigen (more than he usually does, as is).
That makes his stomach turn a little bit. He just hopes he did not do anything too aggressively idiotic, and that his almost-connection with Serizawa can still be rekindled.
Without opening his eyes, he reaches his hand out to the bedside table, hoping to grab his phone, but suddenly hits something surprisingly warm with the tips of his fingers. Did the sun coming through the window warm the bed up so much? No, wait, this is too solid to be a pillow or his blanket. In fact, this kind of feels like—
Reigen’s eyes shoot open with unparalleled quickness, the throbbing pain on the sides of his head duly forgotten; he still winces a little bit at the sunlight that feels like it is frying his retinas, but overall manages to focus his pupils on the… man right next to him.
The first reaction he has to that information is a sensation of severe panic that overpowers him with exceptional hastiness. Once he is capable of processing enough information to make any conclusions, he also realises that the man next to him seems to be Serizawa. What the fuck did I do? the blonde thinks, head pounding even more than before. He feels like he is going to puke.
“Arataka?” he hears a raspy, sleepy voice coming from the general direction of the body next to him. Oh my god, I am going to throw up right in his face, Reigen thinks, feeling the unmistakeable, sweet taste of nausea rising up from his throat onto the base of his tongue.
Serizawa shoots up, as if fully aware of what Reigen is feeling, and quickly points to the floor behind Reigen’s back. “Bucket there. Quick.”
Reigen scrambles to get to the bucket before he vomits right into the face of the man he has a crush on, and, thankfully, succeeds; as he retches, he feels a warm hand pat him on his spine softly, as if trying to cheer him up.
Well, it works, Reigen thinks, somehow capable of conjuring coherent thought while spewing out the contents of his stomach. Did he fucking call me by my first name? What in the actual fuck did I do yesterday? Am I just better drunk? Should I get drunk more often? I seem to have more game, at least, so–no wait, this is awful, isn’t it? I don’t even remember anything, and—
“Let me go grab you some water, at least,” Serizawa says, interrupting the number one psychic’s flurrying, simultaneously elated and worried thoughts.
Reigen lifts his hand up, finally done with gagging, but still too scared to let the bucket go for the moment. “No,” he says, voice hoarse and strained, “I’ll do it myself, don’t worry too much. If you can, just—” he coughs, “open the window, please.”
The brunette nods, obliging to the request without even moving, opening the window with his psychic powers. This is such a fucking cheat for hungover days, Reigen ponders, you can do anything without even getting up. Well, almost anything.
“How are you feeling?” the man asks, interfering with Arataka’s thought process once again. “Maybe you shouldn’t have started that shot demonstration… Seems to have messed you up,” Serizawa mumbles, almost guiltily.
“I do not remember what exactly I did, but what are you looking so solemn for, Serizawa?” Reigen asks, waving his left hand around frantically, a bit nervous to find out but also genuinely curious. “My own fault for overestimating my abilities, I think.”
“Do you not remember at all?” the esper asks, looking… a little upset?
“N-no, well, I mean,” Reigen puts the bucket back down on the floor, “I remember saying that I will show my special shot-drinking ability…” he scratches the back of his neck. “I also remember someone next to us whistling a little when I was done, and,” he gesticulates wildly, “well, that’s about it, really.”
“Do you remember anything you said?” Serizawa wonders, still with a slightly distressed look on his face.
Reigen looks down at the blanket, racking his brain desperately, trying to figure out what he said to trouble the psychic so.
“Your esper powers are truly amazing.”
“Mob? Mob has been really absorbed in his studies and school friends lately… Tome, however, has asked if we could take her in for a summer part-time position, just to try it out.”
“I remember talking to you about your esper powers, about all the kids that often come to the office, asking you a bunch of stupid questions, uh,” his temples are still thumping, “and the…”
“You know, Serizawa, or Katsuya, even — if you don’t mind — you’re actually an incredibly good-looking fellow. Like, you’re very tall, and you have a very kind gaze, and you have big hands while—”
He freezes. He distinctly remembers not just telling Serizawa that he thinks he’s very handsome, but also going into heavy detail about it. “Uh. Compliments I may have given you.” He waves his hands around in dismissal. “Don’t worry, I get overly affectionate when drunk.” Serizawa blinks, emotions unreadable on his face. That is when Reigen realises what he actually just said, and lifts his hands up in front of his chest, placatingly. “But that does not mean that I didn’t mean what I’d said!” he panics, forgetting every clever and intelligent word he could have used. “I just—I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I didn’t plan to bombard you with weird comments or whatever.” Stressed, Reigen swiftly gets up. “Sorry about that.”
“Uh, Reigen?” Serizawa asks, tilting his head a little — like a cute puppy, confused by some bizarre action.
“Yeah, I, uh, just wanna go empty and clean the bucket, and maybe brush my teeth,” his words come out in a tangled up billow of sounds, as he goes for the bedroom door. Where are we, even? We’re definitely not in my shitty little flat.
He pulls on the door handle, maybe a little too hard because he’s unsettled and a nervous wreck right now; the door clicks, making a weird noise, but doesn’t actually open. He doesn’t let that bring him down and just pulls on it again. It does not budge. Oh, I’m an idiot, of course I am probably pulling on a push door in front of my crush who already thinks I’m a weird loser. Great. He pushes on the door. It does not budge. Is it locked? He looks for a lock. Nothing.
“Reigen?” he hears from behind himself. He's saying my last name a lot. “Is there some problem?”
“There’s a lot of problems,” he giggles anxiously, “but yeah I can’t seem to be able to open the door? Sorry to be a bother all the damn time.”
Serizawa smiles, almost too gently, and gets up to help Reigen. He seems to have fallen asleep in his white shirt, Reigen thinks, unable to not observe the tall man. He is also still wearing his socks, he continues, not holding back a smile. Suddenly, he grows aware of the fact that he probably looks irredeemably creepy, and looks away.
The brunette does not seem to have noticed, as he just strolls up to the door without giving Reigen any judgmental glances. “Yeah, it’s kind of an old door, sorry about that, sometimes it just needs a little—” and, without completing his sentence, he pushes the handle down with extra force — in response to which the door clicks again — and then pushes onto it.
But nothing happens.
Serizawa swallows and looks at Reigen tensely. “Um, there—” he looks away, “there might be a slight problem.”
“Y-yeah?”
“Well, sometimes this door gets, um, stuck—” he fiddles with his fingers awkwardly.
“That’s not a big deal, right?” Reigen clears his throat. “I mean, you still live with your family, so somebody could just open the door?”
Then, realisation dawns upon Reigen.
Serizawa would most likely not want his mom to see how a weird blond little guy skitters out of her son’s bedroom with a bucket of vomit in his hands, like some kind of roach.
“See, I could have asked somebody to open, but—I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Reigen, but I would not have brought you here if my family were home. They are away travelling.”
“I would not have brought myself home if my family were there,” Reigen shudders, “so don’t worry, I understand.” Serizawa chuckles guiltily. It is a very soft chuckle, mostly a huff of air, really, which makes Reigen want to hold his hand. He obviously does not do that. Then, managing to stop thinking about the other man’s laugh and tender expression, he asks. “Wait, but what do we do, then…?” He puts the bucket down onto the floor, finally. “Can you use your powers to open the door from the other side, maybe?”
“No. I still need to see what I’m doing, and my powers don’t allow me any extra vision, sadly.” Serizawa dons an even more remorseful expression, which makes Reigen feel truly awful for even suggesting it. Serizawa does not even bother asking Reigen the same question, which pretty much solidifies it in Reigen’s brain that the brunette, just like Mob did, knows.
That is, however, the least of his concerns at the moment. The biggest concern would be that he seems to be stuck in a room with a bucket of his own vomit. The second-biggest concern would be that Serizawa is standing right in front of him — or, rather, towering over him, even — wearing just his boxers, socks and a white dress shirt, while Reigen has a bucket of his own vomit standing by his feet. Of course this would happen, as if he doesn’t think I’m repulsive enough.
“Is there no way to dislodge it from this side at all?” Reigen asks, trying to keep up a pretence of collectedness.
“I’m afraid not, and I would also rather we didn’t completely dislodge my bedroom door,” he snickers.
“Can we call anybody to open the door…?” Reigen asks. “Does anybody have the keys?”
“I may have not locked the door since I wasn’t, uh, perfectly sober either, but whom do we call…?”
Reigen pauses. Mob…? Maybe? He doesn’t know how weird it would be to call a co-worker of theirs to unlock them from a bedroom, but if they need somebody who wouldn’t judge or assume, it’s definitely Mob.
Whom else? Reigen doesn’t have friends, really. This is something he has long accepted. However, this is not something he really wants to discuss with other people, especially not someone he has feelings for. He is pathetic enough.
“Does Kageyama live far from here?” Serizawa breaks the silence.
“Uh, I don’t really know where here is,” Reigen admits. Then, he finally realises that they should probably not just be standing in the corner of the room, hovering over a bucket of barf, and slowly walks back towards the bed, sitting down on its edge. The day is warm, and the breeze that comes in through the window right by the bed caresses his neck.
He looks around the room. It is very tidy, besides the mess that they have made of Serizawa’s bedsheets—Reigen did not imply anything inappropriate by that observation, but the wording still makes him look away, to hide the aggravating, burning blush that results from it. To distract himself, he continues to study the room. There’s a TV standing on a little cabinet, with a couch and a little table in front of it. To the left of the TV is the door, to the right — the bed, with a window hanging over it. There are thick curtains that could probably easily block out any and all interference from the outside, but they are currently tucked to the sides, allowing the spring breeze and the sunlight in. Behind the couch, there is a bookcase — Reigen takes note to glance over it later, curious as to what Serizawa would enjoy reading.
The tall man interrupts Reigen’s train of thought — again, not that the blonde minds — by giving him the exact address they’re currently at, which turns out to be not too far from the Spirits & Such office.
“Can we call a friend of yours first, maybe? Before I burden Mob with this,” Reigen snorts.
“Oh, you’re right, I probably should! Let me try to call a couple of them.” Serizawa smiles and starts clicking through his phone.
Reigen feels a little sad. Obviously not because Serizawa has friends, or is happy to reach out to them — this is exactly what Reigen wanted for him. Rather, he is sad that he never knew those friends existed.
Not that Serizawa would have had to introduce him. In fact, Reigen would much prefer that he does not do that at all. He just wishes Serizawa told him stuff about his life outside the office. But maybe it is too presumptuous a wish.
Two or three phone calls later, the brunette looks at Arataka, shaking his head. “Nope. Two of them are out of town, and one just won’t pick up the phone.”
“Great.” They both laugh defeatedly. “Alright, I call Mob then. Give me a minute.” The man finally finds his phone, only to discover that it is at 1% battery. Great, he repeats mentally. “Uh, could I use your phone? Mine is literally about to die.”
“Oh, sure, but will Mob pick up a call from a number he doesn’t know?”
The horrendous realisation shakes Reigen up. “I… sure hope so?” He looks around, panicked. “Otherwise we’re, uh, stuck in here.”
Agitated, and just a little scared, he starts nervously typing Mob’s number on Serizawa’s phone. He just begs his hands not to start sweating in the meantime.
“Hello?” he hears a cautious voice from the other side of the line.
“Oh my god, Mob, you have no idea how happy I am to hear you, you genuinely have no clue.”
“Teacher…? Is that you?” the boy asks, voice noticeably relaxing a little.
“Yes. Long story. Do you think you could come and rescue me and Serizawa?”
“Rescue?... Did you get attacked?!” Shigeo immediately questions, voice alarmed.
“No, no, we’re okay, we just got locked in.”
He hears a sigh of relief. “Yeah, of course, I think I should have time to. Where are you?”
As his call with Shigeo ends, the two men just sit on the bed in silence. Why did I even go back to the bed, when I could have sat on the couch? Oh god, I want out of this room so bad. At least the ventilation is okay, so I didn’t fuck the ambiance up too bad, but I still definitely can, so I hope Mob arrives before I do, and—
Serizawa, suddenly, speaks up. “Are you alright, Reigen?”
Reigen squirms a little. He liked it better when he called him by his first name, although he realises that it was probably Serizawa’s sleepy confusion. But still. He enjoyed it. “Uh, yeah? Why do you ask?” he retorts, all too quickly, all too anxiously, all too agitatedly.
“You just seem lost in thought, and you look uncomfortable, so—” the esper looks around, with an indescribable look on his face — somewhere between tense and zoned out. “I am sorry. I probably overstepped my boundaries by bringing you here — you were just really drunk and wouldn’t even tell me your address, and I obviously didn’t want you to just wander the town, so…”
“Are you… apologising?” the man blinks, confused.
“Well, of course I am, I never meant to make you feel weird, and I promise that nothing weird happened — not that it would have, under any circumstances, I am just clarifying — and I don’t want you to be too scared to invite me out again, and also—”
“Serizawa. Look at me.” Serizawa, who was studying his own thumbs that he was furiously twiddling that entire time, lifts his gaze to meet the other man’s. Reigen can see that looking into his eyes is very difficult for the man, so he waves his hands. “You don’t have to keep up constant eye-contact. Just—look in my direction.”
Katsuya nods, relief smoothing his frown out.
“I am not uncomfortable with being here. I am, actually, thankful that you didn’t just let me roam. I am nervous because—well, I know I made you uncomfortable yesterday, and I seem to have said some inappropriate things, so. Yeah. You don’t have to force yourself to apologise and be accommodating for me.”
“Inappropriate things…?” the brunette mumbles, confused.
“Well, you know,” it is Arataka’s turn to look away, “about how handsome you are, and I also think I addressed you by your first name and all… Don’t get me wrong, I meant all of that!” he exclaims. “But I just. I realise that it’s probably weird to hear that from your boss, and I promise I wasn’t trying to somehow abuse our dynamic, and I wasn’t trying to fraternise, and I will act like I didn’t say anything weird in the office tomorrow, and—” He is rambling. He knows he is rambling. Stuttering and coming up with things to say on the spot, making it worse than it already was. “It’s possible I said more, worse things, and just know that if they were compliments or made you happy then I meant them, and if they were mean or upsetting then I probably expressed myself wrong; but yes, either way, doesn’t matter, I’ll just pretend it was drunken delusion and, just, don’t worry about it, I will—”
“Arataka,” the esper suddenly says, knocking the wind out of Reigen. He loses all of his words, and his previously wildly active hands just freeze in the air in front of him — he forgets to even just put them down. “Do you mean that?”
“Uh, which p-part,” he stutters, “I mean, probably, yes?”
“That if they were compliments, or made me happy, then you meant them?”
“Y-yes, I do mean that,” he looks up and stretches, trying to recollect his confident demeanour. “Of course, I mean, I know what to say, and how to talk to people,” instead of confidence, however, his voice shakes pathetically as he says that.
“Do you wanna know what happened yesterday?”
“I’m not entirely sure I do, but if you want to shame me so that it’s a lesson — go for it, you deserve it.”
“You said that I’m very handsome.” Reigen nods, feeling his throat and mouth completely dry out. “I won’t list the things you said in detail there, because it is embarrassing.” Reigen nods again, cringing at himself, both mentally and physically. “You said that if you were to ever date anybody, you’d want it to be someone like me.” Reigen feels like he’s going to pass out. The previous comment was just cringy, but could at least be passed off as a platonic observation; this was just ruthless and misery-inducing. “Then, you asked me to use your first name.” Explains a lot. “Then you tried to kiss me, but ended up puking on my shoes,” Serizawa laughs, and Reigen feels like he’s about to actually fall through the ground.
He hides his face in his hands. “I am—so fucking sorry.” His hands are shaking, and his throat feels parched, and he almost wishes that he’d start vomiting again, just to get away from this conversation. “I—listen, I did mean all of that, but… But I don’t want it to be an issue,” Reigen manages to straighten his back and look straight at Serizawa, despite his incredible desire to literally get vaporised right that second. “I will never speak of that again, and I will never push my feelings onto you, and—” He looks away and contemplates crawling under the bed. “Just. I hope I will not make your job harder for you. I am sorry.”
Serizawa sighs, so softly that it just makes Reigen’s stomach do a backflip. “See, if you didn’t get that drunk, you would have remembered what I responded with.”
“I mean, I can imagine your response pretty well. Like you’d want anything to do with me,” Reigen scoffs, his palms and his neck red and sweaty.
“I actually asked you to use Katsuya as well, and thanked you for telling me all that, because I very much like you too.”
“See, just as I was sayi—” Reigen isn’t even interrupted this time. He just completely blanks out. “You what now?”
Katsuya laughs. “I don’t think I have ever seen you interrupt yourself before, Reigen.”
“I—huh? That does not, I mean, it is what, never mind, just listen!” He is panicking. Again. “No, is this some weird prank your classmates taught you?”
“No.”
“Are you just trying to make me feel better?”
“No, why would I ever lie to do that?”
“I admittedly don’t know, but I don’t understand why else you would be doing this.”
“Because… I have feelings… for you?” the psychic tilts his head at Reigen once more.
“No, I have feelings for you !” Reigen exclaims.
“Can we not both have feelings for each other?” he questions.
“I—well, usually humans tend to do that, of course, this is how our society works, but here it is kind of—really?” Reigen starts feeling his eyes sting, and his stomach twists again — and he’s not sure if it’s a good kind of pain, or a bad kind of pain; in fact, he isn’t sure of anything at all, so he just stares at Katsuya, feeling, frankly, fucked up. He is probably crying. No, he is definitely crying.
“No, what? Reigen, please don’t—”
“I mean, at least use my first name now,” the man retorts, a soft giggle in-between sniffles.
Katsuya laughs. “True. Arataka—” he can see a soft blush on the brunette’s face as he says it, “I didn’t mean to make you cry, I just wanted to reassure you that my feelings were also genuine and real.”
“This is just gonna make me cry more,” Reigen laughs.
“No, wait, hold on—”
***
Mob knocks on the door. “Teacher, I’m coming in!”
“O-one second, hold on,” he hears from the other side, a loud exclamation followed by weird scrambling noises. “Okay, come in!”
As he does, he sees Serizawa and Reigen standing not far from the door, fully dressed in their suits, with Reigen’s face an absolute red mess. “Teacher, did you have an allergic reaction or something? Your face is all red.”
The man laughs. “Yeah, I think it’s the pollen.”
“So what happened here, even? How did you get stuck?”
What Mob does not see is Reigen softly tugging on Serizawa’s hand, hidden just ever so barely behind them.
Or maybe he does, but pays it no mind.