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The bar was small and in an area of the city Reigen had never been to. That wasn’t saying much, since he usually didn’t venture outside of his usual haunts, unless it was with Serizawa. He liked exploring with Serizawa.
He had been surprised and then delighted to get the invitation. He was nervous, of course— he did, technically, punch one of them in the face—when Serizawa’s former Claw coworkers turned genuine friends reached out to him to ask him to get a drink, but he had said yes without hesitation.
Looking back, Reigen now wonders if he should have questioned the invitation and the things that came after. If he should have questioned why Serizawa wasn’t invited as well, or if he should have wondered why the bar was empty except for them, or at least been curious about the fact that while he had come in relatively hopeful spirits when he actually walked in they had all turned to look at him with identical sour expressions on their faces.
But he had gotten a drink and had been blissfully oblivious of their intentions until the big one, Shibata, crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair with a menacing air. “We need to talk.”
“Umm, okay,” Reigen says easily. He thought they were already talking, but he realized then that perhaps he had been the only one to do the talking until that point. He wonders if he should get another drink, but when he glances towards the bar it seems that the bartender has disappeared. He realizes, suddenly, that he is alone in the bar now with a group of former terrorists. He swallows hard.
“About Serizawa,” Minegishi adds. His eyes are boring into Reigen’s. Reigen starts to sweat.
Was something wrong? He had thought things had been going well. Exceptionally well, even. Sure, they had their occasional spats, but they were typically over things like Reigen getting hurt and Serizawa being anxious, and Reigen not being able to help and Serizawa getting frustrated, and… and stuff like that. But they always made up in the end! So if it wasn’t that was it something else? Was Serizawa hurt? No, Reigen had seen him earlier today and he had been fine. Did he want to go back to Claw? No, Reigen could not fathom Serizawa, who had come so far in the part few years wanting to return to an organization whose doctrine he didn’t even believe in. Then what was it?
Reigen blinks back at the former Claw members, clueless. “Yes?” He prompts.
“You need to stay away from him.”
Reigen’s mouth opens in shock. “I— what?”
“Stay. Away. From. Him.” Plants unfurl threateningly from Minegishi. Reigen continues to gape, and his hands start fluttering as if to bat away the words.
“I— what are you—“
“You see,” Shimazaki interrupts, a smile on his face that is not actually a smile, “he’s been telling us about you. A lot about you.”
Reigen is trying to think of a response, but before he can formulate his thoughts Hatori cuts in. “You’re not good for him,” he says coldly. “He’s told us things. We know about how much stress you bring him. How much danger you put him in. How you take advantage of him.”
Any response Reigen had been planning curls up and dies in his throat. He suddenly finds it very hard to think. He hadn’t been expecting any of this. He had been… he had thought….
“He’s too sweet of a guy to tell you to your face. That’s why we called you here tonight. We know how you treat him and he doesn’t deserve it, and he won’t stand up for himself, so we’re doing it for him,” Shimazaki says in almost a pleasant tone. “We thought this would be the most effective thing to do. Talk to you face to face, and ask you to do the right thing.”
Shibata leans back in his chair, grunting. The or else is there, but silent.
Reigen doesn’t care though. His head is still spinning. Serizawa said all those things? He felt that way about Reigen? All those times.. these past few months… had he just been staying around out of some sort of obligation or pity or fear?
Reigen knows this is where he should respond. Smile and nod and say he appreciated the heads up. Or defend himself— sputter and wave his hands and refute what they’re saying to him. Or get angry but agree, or get sad but agree, or get angry and refuse, or… or anything. But he can’t. He is stunned into silence.
And they continue. They lob accusations at him and insults and threats, and Reigen sits there and takes it. The worst thing is the things they’re saying aren’t baseless. They’re using examples, real examples. They bring up jobs and trips and anecdotes that only Serizawa would know about. Which means he really did tell him these things. He really…
Reigen’s shocked silence is apparently satisfactory. Once Reigen is able to form a coherent thought, he realizes that he is alone, save for the bartender, who has reemerged and is shooting Reigen wary glances as he cleans the bar.
Reigen stands, and he feels a bit wobbly on his feet, as if he had just run a marathon before being hit by a bus then thrown off a cliff. Except worse.
Did Serizawa really feel that way about him? When he smiled at Reigen from his desk at work, was he really counting down the minutes until he could leave? When he joined Reigen for drinks, was he really feeling like he was paying back a debt? When he held out his umbrella for Reigen when it rained, offering to share, did he really feel like that was his job and no more?
Reigen feels physically sick. He stumbles home and pulls out his phone and texts Serizawa, blindly and through tears, not to come to work tomorrow. He wants to say not to come to work forever, but that’s petty and childish and he knows they’ll have to talk about this— except do they? Because Serizawa hadn’t talked to Reigen about any of those things. No. He had let Reigen play the fool and had his friends reveal how wrong he was.
Reigen curls up on his bed and tries to think, but his heart is still pounding and his head hurts and his eyes are gritty from crying. Eventually he gives up on trying to sort things out. Eventually he lets himself fall into the temporary release of sleep.
—————
Serizawa had found it odd to receive Reigen’s jumbled up text at 2 in the morning, but not too odd. He figured that Reigen must have been out and gotten home late, although he feels a little hurt that he wasn’t invited and more than a little worried that Reigen had done so on a work night. He knows that Reigen has issues, that behind his confident facade is a man who had been hurt and beaten down and who is afraid of reaching out when something’s not right. So instead of waiting for Reigen to reach out, Serizawa decides to bridge the gap himself.
Except Reigen isn’t answering and it’s very hard to balance a get well basket— filled with Reigen’s favorite cup ramen, packs of tea, a video game Serizawa has been wanting them to okay together, and store brand painkillers— while knocking. He knows Reigen is in there because Reigen made everyone at the office share their location. Was he really so sick he couldn’t come to the door? Serizawa feels a pulse of anxiety.
“Reigen?” He calls again, although he has been calling for the past ten minutes with no results. “Arataka? Listen, I’m going to unlock the door, ok? I’m coming in.” He waits a moment in case Reigen decides to respond, and just as he’s about to use his powers to undo the lock, the door swings open
“Oh, honey,” Serizawa breathes. Reigen looks horrible. He has bags under his eyes, and his eyes themselves are bloodshot and puffy. He looks tired and pale and— and upset. Serizawa goes to push past him to come in, but Reigen shuffles over to stop him. He is wearing his duvet, for some reason, which gives him enough bulk to block the whole doorway. Serizawa stops, confused.
“Are you sick? You don’t have to worry about infecting me, I’ll be careful. Now, I brought you some stuff, but I can run out to get you something else—“
“No.”
Reigen’s voice sounds just as wrecked as the rest of him. Serizawa blinks in confusion, and shifts the bulky basket to his other hand. Is this one of those instances where Reigen doesn’t want to ask for him, where he doesn’t want to be a burden? Serizawa feels his expression soften, and he tries to think of the best way to assure his boyfriend that he wants to help.
“Taka—“
“No,” Reigen interrupts again. He clears his throat and straightens himself up, looking like he’s steeling himself for something. Serizawa resists the urge to reach a hand out to steady him. “Katsuya… Serizawa,” he continues, and Serizawa gets the sudden terrible feeling that something is wrong. “I think….” Serizawa waits as Reigen visibly gathers his thoughts, holding his breath, his eyes wide. “I think we should. Um. I think we should take a break.”
There is a bang as Serizawa drops the basket. He feels as though the air has been punched out of lungs. He can’t understand what Reigen is saying. “I— is this because you’re sick?” He asks, and his voice sounds high in his ears. Desperate. This can’t be happening. It can’t be happening it can’t be happening it can’t be happening…
Reigen isn’t looking at him. He’s looking somewhere over he is shoulder, not meeting his eyes. Serizawa reaches for his hands— his beautiful, expressive hands— but Reigen pulls into himself, clutching his blankets tighter. The corner of his mouth wobbles, like he’s not sure if he should laugh or cry. “No. You don’t— you don’t have to—“ he looks frustrated, and his fingers twitch. “You don’t have to pretend.”
Serizawa’s hands are still out, grasping at nothing. Pretend? What was Reigen talking about? This had to be a joke, right? A test? Some kind of ritual in adult dating he didn’t know about? “Arataka, what are you talking about? Let me in. Please let me in, we can talk about this.”
But Reigen is shaking his head, backing up into his apartment, folding in on himself. “It’s okay,” he says, but Serizawa doesn’t understand. He feels his hair brushing against his necks and he realizes that it’s floating, as is his tie and the cup ramen and the green tea bags. “I think this is for the best. I know it’s sudden, so, um, I’ll give you a month’s pay… I think that should be enough. And I’ll give you a letter of recommendation, of course—“
“I don’t care about work, Arataka!” Serizawa bursts out, his eyes wide. He can’t believe that’s what— he cannot believe that Reigen is talking about that right now. “I care about us. I don’t understand. Why are you saying these things?” His voice cracks on his words, like he’s trying to talk around broken glass. He wants to touch Reigen, who looks so small and worn down and defeated right now— the opposite of how he looks when he is happy and joyful, when he looks so bright and beautiful and full of life.
But Reigen shakes his head, and pulls back more, half closing his door so now the only thing Serizawa can see is half of his face, his one visible eye downturned now. “I think this is for the best. For both of us,” he says. Then he shuts the door, and Serizawa is left staring at the wood as the gifts he had brought to show his love create a whirlwind around his head.
—————
Three weeks go by and Serizawa hears nothing. Mob and Tome and Dimple apparently know nothing either— Reigen has returned to work, although in a limited capacity now that he does not have a full time psychic working next to him— and he is reportedly looking unwell but not sick, and he is refusing to talk about anything related to Serizawa.
Serizawa’s sadness and despair are still there, although they are not accompanied by an incredulous anger that he never thought he could feel towards the other man. How could he do this to Serizawa? How could he— the man who preached about communication and being in touch with your feelings and being true to oneself— cut Serizawa off, without any explanation?
Serizawa has spent the last three weeks moping and trying to call Reigen and half heartedly applying to jobs he doesn’t want. He leaves Reigen plaintive then frustrated then demanding messages, but he gets no call back, no replies. He thinks about showing up at the office but does not. Because even though he feels all these things, he also feels a crippling sense of anxiety that makes it hard for him to think straight. Was this all his fault? What did Reigen mean when he said pretend. Pretend what? Did he think that Serizawa was merely pretending to be a well adjusted adult? Did he see through Serizawa’s attempts to be normal? Did he know that Serizawa would never be whole, that he would never be without the 30 years of baggage he carried around with him?
It made no sense. On some level, Serizawa knew that. He knew that Reigen, who was sweet and funny and heart achingly kind, who built walls around himself while tearing down others, who wanted the best for those around him, even if he had a funny way of showing it, who truly wanted to help the world, he knew that that Reigen would not think those things. But Serizawa thought those things, and without Reigen there to refute him it was easy to project his thoughts onto the other man.
So when Serizawa got a text from Hatori inviting him out for drinks with the rest of their old crew, he tells himself he needs the fresh air and perhaps a shoulder— or four— to cry on, and that even though he does not want to leave his apartment he needs to. He will not let himself sink low enough to be a shut in again.
He drags himself up and makes an effort at shaving, runs a brush through his hair, and pulls on the first pair of clothes he finds that aren’t sweatpants. When he gets to the bar, the rest of them are already there, and they all give him looks that range from concerned to confused. Serizawa manages to give them a weak smile. “Hi, guys.”
“You look like shit,” Minegishi says flatly. Serizawa feels his smile drop. He’s not sure if he should be embarrassed or not. Really, he just feels numb at this point.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Um. My boyfriend broke up with me.”
He gets a few sympathetic winces, and a tall mug of beer materializes in front of him. He toys with the handle but doesn’t pick it up. Not yet.
“They don’t know what they’re missing out on,” Shimazaki says, giving Serizawa a pat on the back. It’s the first physical contact he’s had in weeks and he resists the urge to lean into it. “But I didn’t realize you were dating,” he adds thoughtfully. “What’s his name and address?”
It’s said as a joke, no doubt to cheer Serizawa up. And he is cheered up, to an extent, happy that he has friends, happy that they’re willing to joke about beating up his ex. But he gives them a look of confusion, his brow furrowing as he picks up the beer for the first time. “You didn’t realize? It was Reigen.”
The bar falls completely silent. Surprised, Serizawa lets his drink fall on the table with a small thump that echoes throughout the too. He realizes his friends are all giving each other meaningful looks, and he tilts his head, confused. “What?”
“Reigen?” Shibata says, his voice a bit strangled. “You were dating Reigen?”
Serizawa frowns at him, not underfunding his reaction. “Yes? I thought…. I thought you knew. I mean,” Serizawa continues with a bitter little laugh, “I talked about him all the time.”
“You complained about him all the time,” Minegishi says. There’s an odd note to his voice. Serizawa turns his frown on him instead.
“No, I talked about him. I mean, maybe I would vent a little while I was here, but it’s just because he could be so—“
“Frustrating?” Hatori almost sounds hopeful as he says this.
Serizawa blinks. “Well— well yes. He can be frustrating. But he frustrates me because…” Serizawa stares down at the table, his throat tight. He’s tried to avoid thinking about Reigen, but it’s been building and building and building, and now it’s like something has broken, and it all comes pouring out. Serizawa picks up his beer, drains half of it, and slams it down on the table.
“He frustrates me because he can be so frustrating!” Serizawa half shouts, and his friends stare at him with wide eyes, their mouths open. He knows what he said doesn’t make sense, but at the same time it’s the truth. “He frustrates me because he’s so selfish. And selfless. He can be so selfless. He’s always running into danger—“
“Which forces you to help him?” Shibata says, his voice strangely thin. “Even though you don’t want to?”
“He doesn’t force me. He never forces me! That’s the problem! He almost gets killed on a weekly basis and he laughs it off. As if it’s better for him to get hurt than me. As if him getting hurt doesn’t tear me apart. He only ever thinks about himself— he only ever thinks about endangering himself, of putting himself first, of protecting me and everyone else—“
“But what about when you said he was thick? When you said he never seemed to listen to you?” Shimazaki asks, his voice oddly coaxing as if he wants Serizawa to insult Reigen more.
Serizawa flushes. “That— that was a while ago. When I was trying to get it through his head that I liked him back and that— and that we could go out and he wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. Which is another example of how stubborn he can be— it took me months to finally convince him—“ Serizawa cuts himself off and shakes his head, before picking up his beer and finishing the rest of it, which probably a bad idea but he doesn’t care. His friends are all still staring at him like he’s grown a second head.
“And now he’s not talking to me,” Serizawa says, and he is feeling weepy and full of self pity as he stares down at his now empty glass. “I don’t know what happened. A few weeks ago he told me not to come into work, and I thought he wasn’t feeling good but when I went to his apartment he just— he just—“ Serizawa let’s out a loud sniffle. The rest of the former terrorists continue to stare at him.
Normally he would care. Normally he would feel self conscious, he would try and deflect the attention off of himself, he would try and brush it all off and pretend he’s fine. But right now he’s just thinking about Reigen, and how much he misses him, and how much he wants to hear his voice right now. He wonders if he should call him. No— go to his house, since Reigen isn’t picking up. Beg for forgiveness, even though Serizawa doesn’t know for what. Promise he’ll be better. Pledge his love and devotion. Demand answers.
Serizawa realizes he’s probably drunk, but he doesn’t care. He places his hands on the table and attempts to push himself up. “I need to go to him,” he declared, but Shimazaki pushes him down firmly
“Serizawa,” he says, his voice a little uncertain. “I think we’ve made a mistake.”
Serizawa blinks owlishly up at him, then at the rest of the group. He’s still thinking about Reigen. What was Reigen doing right now? Sleeping? Working? Probably working. He worked too much. What time was it again?
“You see,” Shimazaki continues, a nervous smile playing at his lips, “we kind of thought that Reigen was, ah, taking advantage of you. That you didn’t enjoy spending time with him.”
Serizawa is brought back to the conversation, and he stares at Shimazaki in confusion and a bit of anger that is enhanced by the alcohol in his system. “Why would you think that?” He demands.
Shimazaki looks flustered, which is unusual. “Well, you always complained about him…”
Serizawa frowns and shakes his head resolutely. “No I haven’t. What are you taking about?” He thinks he’s talking a little too loud, but he again doesn’t care. Maybe he should drink more often. It’s nice not to care in a situation like this. It’s nice to lean into his anger.
“Well, maybe not complained. But we were kind of reading through the lines, you know?” Shibata takes over. “I mean, you never complained about the president, so we thought you telling us these things about Reigen was your version of complaining?”
Serizawa stares at Shibata, who had the decency to look embarrassed. “You think… me telling you about my boyfriend was my version of complaining?”
Now all the former Claw members are shuffling in their seats and looking down into their drinks. And Serizawa gets that feeling again— that feeling that something is wrong. All the items on the table suddenly take on a purple hue. “What did you do,” Serizawa asks flatly.
Shimazaki clears his throat and spreads his hands, trying to look appeasing but he really just looked nervous in Serizawa’e opinion. “Well… we may have invited Reigen here to talk. And we may have told him our interpretations of your stories. And we may have told him, multiple times, to stay away from you and we may have left him with the tab before we left.”
Definitely nervous, Serizawa thinks as he watches a bead of sweat trickle down the man’s face. Then his word register and all the drinks, coasters, phones, and wallets that had been perched on their table are blasted into the air. Serizawa jumps up, slamming his hands onto the table. “You did what?” He growls, and now all the other espers look ashamed and nervous and very, very guilty.
But Serizawa’s mind is not on them. It’s in Reigen— poor Reigen, who had been told all these things by people Serizawa had considered friends. On some level, Serizawa knows that they did this to help him. That they were concerned and didn’t want someone to take advantage of him again. He knows this and acknowledges this and decides that this doesn’t matter at all in this moment because he is very, very angry with them but, more importantly, he needs to go see Reigen right now.
The anger has sobered him up, a little bit, and Serizawa turns and leaves without another word. He can hear them calling after him, but no one makes an attempt is stop him, which he is grateful for because he’s not sure he could control himself if they did. Once he’s outside he decides that there is no time to waste. Reigen needs to know the truth. Serizawa needs to see him.
Serizawa has never actually flown with his powers before. It is exhilarating and fast but also cold, and by the time he stumbles onto Reigen’s doorstop he is also feeling rather dizzy. He’s worried for a moment that he might throw up, which would not help the situation. But the moment passes, and Serizawa is then knocking on Reigen’s door with the urgency of a half drunk man who just discovered that his friends had fucked up one of the most important things that had ever happened to him in his entire life.
He thinks maybe that Reigen won’t open the door— he’s not really sure what he would do then, because he left his jacket with his apartment keys at the bar— but then the lock clicks and the door swings open and Reigen is there, blinking blearily up at him, looking far too thin and pale and sleep deprived and smelling vaguely of cigarette smoke. But he’s beautiful, he’s so beautiful and he’s right there in front of Serizawa and Serizawa can already feel his eyes welling up.
“Katsuya?” Reigen asks, his voice rough and coated in sleep, and Serizawa surges forward, grasping the smaller man in his arms.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, over and over and over again into Reigen’s tangled hair, trying to get his thoughts together so he can explain. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. It was a misunderstanding. A huge one. Please, please, please let me explain. Please don’t leave me. Please.”
Ah, and he’s definitely crying now, and Reigen is stiff and unresponsive in his arms until suddenly he isn’t, and his arms wrap around Serizawa and cling to him with a sense of urgency and desperation. And then Reigen is trembling a little and making weird, muffled gasping noises, and Serizawa knows that he’s crying too.
Eventually they pull apart and wipe their faces and Reigen invites Serizawa in, where Serizawa pulls Reigen down onto his lap and explains it all, before also explaining that he is kind of mad, now that he thinks about it, that Reigen didn’t talk to him about this, that Reigen assumed that everything that the ex-terrorists said, that he didn’t bother to check with Serizawa first, but even though he’s mad about it and they’ll have to talk about it more later (especially because the light in his honey eyes is still dimmed, and Serizawa knows this is because Reigen does believe those things) because the only thing Serizawa wants to do now is show Reigen how much he loves him.
And Reigen lets him. He looks ashamed when Serizawa tells him off, but when Serizawa pulls him in for a kiss that tastes like salt and beer and toothpaste, Reigen returns it with fervor, his hands clutching Serizawa’s hair— too long, he’ll have to get a haircut— his legs on either side of his waist, surrounding him. And Serizawa is happy again, for the first time since Reigen turned him away.
He knows not everything is fixed. But when they finally move to the bed, and Reigen curls up against him and presses his face into his neck and falls asleep instantly, he knows things will be okay. He knows that he loves Reigen, and Reigen loves him, and that he will never let Reigen doubt that again.
And as he cards his hands through Reigen’s hair before surrendering to sleep, he can only think that he is grateful for having this sense of purpose. That as long as he can continue proving his love, he will be happy no matter what comes his way, misguided friends and Reigen’s stubbornness included.
For the first time in several weeks, Serizawa and Reigen sleep soundly.