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The first time he felt it was on the chase for Mob.
He hadn’t even had all his faculties at the time, during the storm, delirious out of his mind with blood loss and concussed all the way to next week. Dimple managed to somehow push him back upright—and when or how he had been knocked out, he was still quite blurry on—with pure, sheer will and the last reserves of his strength alone, wherever he had managed to draw that from.
In the split second where he slipped back into consciousness, before Dimple took complete control of all his limbs, there was a spark, of a kind. Like some dormant thing living in him had ignited alive, a piece of puzzle or a missing cog finally sliding into place with an internal click. It was some indescribable feeling; an all-consuming tidal wave of yes, something that just felt right, like a flash of overwhelming elation when he and Dimple became one. It had felt natural, to feel Dimple’s bright, green presence invade his head, as if the spirit belonged there all along.
And then when it was over and the storm subsided, and Dimple slipped out of his mind, his body was awash in a feeling of loss. Of something like wrongness. It was easy to brush away, in the face of everything else, and he redirected his focus instead on finding Hanazawa and Mob’s brother in case of need for medical aid—and while he was at it, preferably get some himself.
It was in the hospital bed some time later that Dimple found him again.
“How are the boys?” Reigen immediately asked him when the nurse left the room.
“Blondie—more like baldie, really—is next room over and snoring his head off. Seri-chan’s keeping an eye on him. Shigeo must’ve done a number on the boy. Speaking of, he and his brother are back home. Apparently the kid got himself into a car crash.”
“What?”
“Shigeo. Apparently he got hit by a car and it triggered the whole thing.”
“What?” he shrieked again.
“Oh, relax. The wound in his head was sealed off, don’t worry. Doesn’t even bleed anymore, you’d think it wasn’t even there to begin with if it weren’t for all the blood on his uniform. Must’ve been some psychic bullshit,” Dimple told him, which did not quite ease his worries, so he would have to call Mob in a bit. Maybe not for a while, though. Maybe not… so soon, after all that. He grimaced internally. That had been one hell of a roller coaster, back there.
“Okay,” Reigen said, lying back against the cot’s unbelievably uncomfortable pillows. Hospitals, he was reminded, were the absolute worst. “And… non-physically?”
Dimple grimaced aloud at that. “Yeah, he’s getting there. Was still kind of teary the whole way back to the Kageyamas, but he’ll be fine.”
Reigen hummed in understanding. Mob’s a strong, kind boy. He probably wouldn’t get over it anytime soon—if ever—but he could trust Mob to pull himself back up, even after all of what happened. Reigen, though? Well… He supposed he needed to be strong, too. Shigeo needed his mentor to rely on.
“Anyway,” Dimple cleared his throat. Reigen was sure he didn’t quite have one, but he’s talking about the same spirit that likes to conjure limbs for no purpose other than theatrical gestures and theatrical gestures alone. “I uh… came to apologise. About earlier. You know, the whole possession thing. It wasn’t cool that I just—took over your body like that, without asking. I mean, not that I was gonna use it for personal benefit or anything. Not that I can do much with it, anyway. But still.”
Reigen let out a breath of laughter, waving it off. “Nothing to apologise for,” he said, “Extenuating circumstances and all that. If I were you I’d’ve done the same. Especially if it were Mob I found on the ground."
“Yeah, well, trust me, the kid’s a lot of things, but easy to possess isn’t one of those. You’d be damn near suicidal to even try.” He bobbed in the air a bit at this, considering him with eyes far graver than his tone. “Speaking of which,” he said. “You never told anyone.”
There was an unmistakable skip in his heartbeat. The heart monitor picked it up. “About what?”
Grave, grave eyes. “I saw your shoes.”
“Ah,” Reigen said, keeping his face carefully blank. He gave a small, dry laugh. “That… wasn’t…”
“You know you can talk about it, right? I mean, you know. I’m probably not your first choice for talking about any kind of personal shit like that, but… I’m a pretty good listener if I want to be, so you know.”
“No, no, that’s—” Reigen waved his hand in a gesture of denial, “It’s not anything like that. That was just—That’s just so I could run better, is all.”
Dimple’s lips thinned a little. “Right,” he said. Those eyes were still watching him. They were inscrutable. This was not a good area of conversation—he needed a diversion. And quick.
“Still, though,” Reigen’s smirk was slow and, he admitted, must look goddamn obnoxious. “Misguided as it was, that was pretty considerate of you to say, for a self-proclaimed evil spirit.”
Dimple huffed indignantly. “Well your little stunt back there definitely proved you’re the century’s best fucking psychic, too, so how about that, asshole?”
Reigen laughed at that. “Touché.”
They looked at each other for a moment, there, a natural lull in conversation befalling them.
"You good?" Reigen asked him after a while of this, aiming for casual. "You look a little... faded, there."
"Asks the guy who ran straight into a psychic tornado," Dimple snorted. "You're one to talk. Is it the concussion?"
"'M not the one who just came back from the dead," he retorted with a shrug, "Well, sort of. You're still not quite... yanno." Alive, he wanted to say, but sluggishly swung his hand in a vague circle about the air instead. Dimple didn’t say anything to that for a while.
And then, "It would help if I had a body to possess. To conserve energy. And it keeps me anchored or whatever."
“Right,” Reigen said. “Well, seems it’s your lucky day. I’ve got a body right here.” Did Dimple’s ruddy cheeks get a little ruddier at that, had he imagined it? Surely that was the case. “Come on, then," he beckoned him in. "Get in here."
Clearly Dimple hadn't expected Reigen to offer himself so easily like that, and Reigen would have snorted if not for the fact that he wasn't quite sure himself. Why did he offer Dimple to possess him, then, just like that? That had been a blatant display of trust, hadn’t it, and he wasn’t quite sure where they stood with each other, really, but he could trust Dimple, could he?
“...You sure?” Dimple asked him with some hesitance. It took only a moment of himself weighing the pros and cons before eventually shrugging it off and throwing all caution out the window. Oh, fuck it, he thought. Might as well. It’s the least he could do for Dimple after basically saving his ass back there.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. What’s the worst that could happen? “Just promise me you won’t run off with my body and… I don’t know, start a cult or something.”
Dimple snorted again. “Oh, I’m past those days,” and then lower, “for the most part.”
He didn’t get time to come up with a rejoinder for that when there’s suddenly that tingle again, the one he had felt when he woke up from the ground, a flood of green in his vision. Something settled in his head, making space to shove itself in. There was that light feeling again, like something that belonged inside finally slid into place.
“God, that feels weird.” In honesty, it felt good. And that above all was weird, was it?
He heard Dimple’s laugh in his head at that, his amusement twining with Reigen’s and feeding into each other. He didn’t say anything when he felt some of the pain from his wounds ease off and then disappear completely, and perhaps that was something to be terrified of, that that’s a thing Dimple can manipulate his body to do, but as it stood, Reigen wasn’t terrified. He learnt pretty early on that for all the way he acted, there wasn't much at all about Dimple one should be terrified of.
And then there was the feeling; the one he felt the first few initial seconds after possession. Was that another thing Dimple was capable of manipulating his body into feeling? He didn’t get to contemplate that any further, because with the lack of pain and the crashing exhaustion, his limbs began to relax as he slipped into painless, blissful sleep.
They never really talked about it again after that.
Though it did change a couple things. Most of their banter didn’t carry as much strain anymore, for one thing. For another, there was the possession thing. Dimple would possess him from time to time, whenever convenient, often when a case or emergency requires it. The first few times had just been for necessary purposes, like when Mob or Serizawa aren’t around to pull his ass out of danger. Though at some point Reigen had caught him staring a little too intently while he was chowing down a MobDonald burger, one afternoon, and there was this kind of curiosity in his eyes, so he had beckoned the spirit over and offered a bite, except that would only be possible if Dimple possessed him.
There was some resistance—how do you even stuff all that in your mouth without gagging, all that grease is gonna give you a heart disease—but then the curiosity won over and he had, literally and figuratively, eaten his own words. So modern fast food doesn’t taste so bad, go figure.
Gradually Dimple would start possessing him for mundane, less life-threatening reasons, too. Possession was a casual thing, after that. Dimple always asked for consent beforehand, but then at some point Reigen had made some offhanded remark about Dimple having full permission to do it without asking because he does it often anyway—unless he plans on starting a cult again, which had made Dimple huff and puff indignantly—so he had just stopped asking altogether, after that, for the most part.
And every single time, without fail, there was that feeling. Every. Single. Time.
Dimple brings it up one night, while they were lazing about—or, well, Reigen’s lazing about on his bed while Dimple floats up there with his legs kicked back against an invisible surface and hands behind his head—in Reigen’s apartment. That’s another new development; sometimes, after a day of spiritual work, Dimple would follow him home, or come along with him—and occasionally Serizawa—for drinks in some hole-in-the-wall, or to dinner in his usual ramen place, instead of following Mob back home. Today is one of those days, and he would never admit this, but he appreciates Dimple’s company. Silence has never really done him good, and his shoebox of an apartment is claustrophobic on top of that, so having another presence around is nice.
They were making desultory talk about whatever came to mind—recent exorcism cases, Mob’s upcoming graduation, Serizawa’s progress with the company, Tome’s obvious crush on that one girl that kept making her bug-inserted chocolate.
At some point Dimple says, “So there’s something I need to tell you.”
It’s quite out of the blue, so Reigen looks at him curiously with an arched brow, stretching languidly against his sheets, hand stopping mid-spiral in the air. “Okay,” he says carefully. Dimple has this frown on his face, like he’s practiced saying this a couple times but is struggling to find the words now.
“You know how we, uh…” Dimple rubs the back of his non-existent head, silent for a moment. “When I possess you,” he begins again, “do you feel anything… unusual?”
“Unusual, how? I haven’t got much data for comparison, mind.”
“I meant—you know, like a click,” he snaps his fingers, “Like a buncha lights you didn’t know were off suddenly all flicked on, or whatever.”
“That…” Reigen sits up. “Huh. Is that s’posed to be unusual, or something?”
“Yeah,” Dimple says, “Sort of. Can I—?”
“Go for it.”
A flash of green, a jolt of cold and hot, and then that sudden, shuddering thrill.
“That,” Dimple breathes out, using his voice. “That right there—that’s what I’m talking about. Did you—did you feel that too? That’s not—that’s not just me, right?”
I… Yes, Reigen says to him mentally, I thought… I thought that’s just how it is.
“Well,” Dimple lays back on his pillows. “Listen. That’s the thing. I mean, I’ve been around for a hell of a long time, and I’ve possessed a few more than the average spirit has, trust me. And that—that’s never happened before.”
Wait, seriously? Reigen thinks. With anyone?
“Yeah, basically.”
Not even that… What was his name? The security guard.
“Yoshioka?” Dimple frowns with his face, “No, no. Never.”
But you sure as hell possess him a lot.
“Well. Me and him have got a whole other deal going on. Purely transactional.”
He feels Dimple slip out of his body with another flash of green, and he brushes off the sense of wrongness that immediately sets in at that. Is that another thing that doesn’t happen to Dimple’s other vessels? To Yoshioka?
Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t quite find out, because keeping his thoughts in a direct line of order has never been his strong suit, so his mind latches onto something else Dimple had said.
“Transactional?” Reigen arches a brow. “What’s he get out of it?”
Dimple, now in his original form, floating a good head above Reigen, smirks salaciously. His voice is a low timbre when he says, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
He doesn’t know, exactly, what pushes him to say it. But before Reigen can stop himself he is suddenly saying, “And if I do?”
He realises a split second afterwards what he had just said, panicking momentarily at the widening of Dimple’s eyes—or, well, his equivalent of it, at least; he’s still not clear on spirit physiology despite years of experience—but then Dimple’s expression turns into something… interested. Intrigued.
So maybe…?
“If I do…” Reigen repeats, pushing on, “Would you show me?”
Dimple opens his (equivalent of a) mouth to say something, but then he seems to be at a loss for words.
“You’re surprised,” Reigen realises.
Dimple sputters. “Well, it’s not like you’ve been returning any of my advances.”
“...Huh?”
“Wait,” Dimple says, “You seriously didn’t…?”
“Wait wait,” Reigen is saying, “What do you mean advances?”
“Reigen,” Dimple says, “I cannot emphasise how obvious my advances have been. And it’s been going on for some time now. Tome-chan pulled me aside the other day and told me to stop traumatising the team. You’re telling me you didn’t fucking reali— You’re telling me they’ve been going over your fucking head? All this time? What the hell.”
“So wait,” Reigen says, “So when—on the trip, on the way to the hot spring, that one time, when you offered to give me a test of courage, you were—that was…?”
“Me making a pass at you, yeah,” Dimple says, in disbelief. “You only caught onto that now?”
“Well how was I supposed to know?” He responds defensively. “You’ve been pretty much dragging me since day one. You make it some personal mission to piss me right the fuck off every chance you can get. I thought you hated my guts, until, you know, recently.”
“To be fair I do that to everyone.”
“So what, being an asshole is just your cover?”
“Pretty much.”
Reigen laughs at that, long and loud and hysterical, sliding a hand over his eyes, down his face. “Christ, you’re unbelievable.”
“Says you.”
He smiles, shakes his head ruefully. “Says me.”
Dimple is smiling, though. Reigen smiles back. Dimple clears his throat.
“The answer would’ve been yes, by the way.”
“Hm?” And then it hits Reigen what he meant. “Oh.”
“But there’s—something else.”
Reigen gives him a questioning look.
“Listen, uh,” Dimple looks unsure here. Unusual look on him, Reigen thinks. “So when I said the score between me and Yoshioka is that we keep it purely transactional, I meant that. But we sort of—broke it off, a while back. Just mutually agreed to call it off, ‘cos we needed other things, and all that. But you and me—I mean, if we’re really doing this, I…” More of that uncharacteristic hesitance. “I’d like it if it weren’t just that, between you and me. If you get what I mean. I’d really like it if… if maybe it could mean something else entirely.”
Reigen’s breath catches. Dimple is… Is Dimple asking for what Reigen thinks he’s asking?
“I mean, I—I get it if not, you know, we can keep it casual and all that but—”
“Yes.”
Dimple is struck to silence for a moment. “Yes to keeping it casual?”
“No, I meant—yes to it being a little more than that,” Reigen says, “If you’re amenable.”
Dimple floats closer, and there’s something strangely beautiful happening to those lips, something Reigen has fought hard for some time not to acknowledge its beauty. Dimple is smiling. “More than,” Dimple murmurs, and Reigen is smiling back.
He is drawing closer now, closer than he usually would allow himself to be. Closer still.
“Hey,” Reigen says lowly, “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah.”
“When was the last time someone kissed you? Not when you’re in somebody else’s body, I mean. I meant… When was the last time someone kissed you?”
Dimple’s lips parted. “Been some time,” he answers, “Why?”
They are closer now than they were before, hovering mere inches over each other.
“I’d like to be your first in a while.”
Dimple nods eagerly. “Okay.”
And then they are kissing. It is by all means not an amazing kiss, or an expert one, and it lacks any of the finesse that someone more experienced would have, but it’s a good kiss. It’s an exploring kiss. They take their time feeling each other out, and it is this gradual build, this slow ascend up a staircase, and suddenly he feels Dimple pulling his face closer and—
A shiver goes down his spine. There are electric pinpricks spreading all across his skin like a physical thing crawling along him. It is leaving him breathless the longer they keep this up. It’s a familiar feeling.
He realises with a jolt that it’s that feeling. The same one he feels every single time Dimple slips into his mind, every single time his presence entwines with Reigen’s.
Reigen pulls back for breath, shocked to find himself panting, to feel his heart thudding wildly. “Did you know about this?” he asks, because he knows Dimple knows what he’s talking about. Knows Dimple feels this thing, this unimaginably wonderful thing, too.
“Heavily suspected, once or twice,” Dimple replies gruffly, before he’s latching his lips onto Reigen’s again. It is an addicting thing, kissing and being kissed by him.
Reigen pulls back again. “Do you—Do you know if this means anything?”
Dimple seems to be equally affected, eyes searching Reigen’s. “Yes. No. I don’t know. Can we kiss again?” Reigen immediately nods, and they do just that.
In the morning he won’t remember if they ever stopped kissing, but he knows the feeling never quite fades away.