Work Text:
キス
On his fourteenth birthday, Mob asks Reigen for a kiss. It takes a lot for him to pluck up the courage – he's thought about it all day in school, figuring out the flow of it, but when it comes to it he's red-faced and stammering, looking at the floor. It hurts a little when Reigen laughs.
"A what? A kiss?"
"Y-yes."
"Mob. Are you serious?"
Mob can't bring himself to speak again. He nods.
A pause. "Fine," Reigen sighs. "I suppose it is your birthday..."
But before Mob can even lift his head, elated, Reigen sweeps in and kisses the top of his skull. He feels it through his hair and it's sweet but he wilts. He's no good at this sort of thing. Reigen doesn't take him seriously – all the more obvious when he ruffles his hair.
"Now come on," he says cheerily, stepping past. "I know it's your birthday but we've got work to do."
-
On his fifteenth birthday, still smarting from his failure the year before, Mob dilly-dallies about asking until it's almost too late. They go out on a job and get ramen afterwards but Mob can't stay too long because he has a test the next day and he knows his family will want to see something of him, too. Ritsu has called him three times by the time they leave the ramen shop, his phone buzzing in his pocket.
"You should answer that," Reigen says, fishing out his cigarettes.
"It's Ritsu. I'll call him back."
"Well, don't leave him hanging," Reigen says without an ounce of self-awareness. He takes a cigarette between his teeth, finds his lighter.
"Before you do that," Mob says, forcibly casual, "can... can I have a kiss?"
Reigen pauses, looks at him. "This again?"
"Why not?" Mob asks, staring him down.
Reigen shrugs, one shoulder a little higher than the other.
"I think you're getting too tall," he says. "Besides, we're out on the street."
Mob wants to say 'So?' but he knows they're being as selfish as each other. He doesn't answer and Reigen studies him for a long moment before saying he'll give him an I.O.U instead. Better than nothing, perhaps, and Reigen ignites his cigarette and goes off into the night.
Mob's not expecting much but he does get his kiss the following day, disappointed that it's on the cheek.
-
On his sixteenth birthday, Mob saves Reigen's life. It's a difficult job with several high-level spirits, too many to melt all at once, and Mob has his hands full when Reigen gets himself cornered. The hideous hulking thing seizes him bodily, tosses him like a ragdoll across the warehouse, and it's all Mob can do to tear through the two he's tangled with. He's never moved so fast in his life, throwing himself in front of Reigen as he tries to push himself up – and the spirit unfurls, twisting and looming over them both.
"Mob!"
Reigen grabs his gakuran, tries to pull him back, but Mob is a wall and he won't be moved. He puts his fist through the spirit, shatters it to smithereens. The blood is pounding in his ears.
"Holy shit," Reigen pants. Mob glances back at him, sees him sitting up with his sleeve torn and his nose bleeding. He sees, too, the way he's looking at him.
"You should be more careful, Shishou," he says flatly, his hair wild, his eyes searing.
"Yeah," Reigen sighs. He inhales, piercing. "Sorry."
He bites his bottom lip and Mob watches him do it. He doesn't ask.
-
On his seventeenth birthday, Mob goes into work even though it's a Saturday. Reigen opens on Saturday mornings because it's good for business, there are plenty of people who can't spare any other time. He doesn't usually ask Mob to come in, though, not unless they have a job scheduled, and he's surprised to see him.
"It's my birthday," Mob says mildly, standing at the edge of his desk.
"I didn't forget," Reigen says, somewhat defensive. "I thought we'd get takoyaki on Monday."
"That would be nice," Mob says. He doesn't move. He's tall now, taller than Reigen, and he knows that's why he won't stand up. He's pretending to be very immersed in something on his computer.
"Well, I won't need you today so you don't have to stay," Reigen says. "Go and have fun with your friends."
"I'm meeting them later," Mob says. "...I wanted to come, Shishou. That's why I'm here."
"I haven't got anything for you to do," Reigen says distractedly. Click click click. Mob knows he's not doing anything, really.
"I have something for you to do," Mob says.
"Is that right." Not a question. Reigen can read him too well. He doesn't even lift his eyes. "Forward, aren't we?"
"I guess I got that from you." Mob puts his hand on his laptop and pushes it shut.
"Mob." Reigen at last looks up, though his annoyance is feigned, even Mob can tell that a mile away. "Enough of this nonsense."
"Yeah," Mob says. "I agree."
He leans down and kisses him – and he's a bit shy underneath it all and he doesn't know what he's doing but Reigen is shocked and opens his mouth and lets him. After a beat he kisses back a little bit and Mob gets self-conscious and retreats. Reigen grins, weak, red to the roots.
"You didn't get that from me," he says.
"Maybe not," Mob mutters, making himself look at him, "but you owed me double."
-
On his eighteenth birthday, Mob rolls over and nuzzles against the back of Reigen's neck. His hair smells of cheap unbranded soap, familiar. He's a light sleeper and stirs the moment Mob touches him.
"Mmm... morning," he mumbles. Mob puts an arm over him, cuddles him close. He knows he doesn't want to get up yet and neither does he. He wants to stretch out this sun-silvered moment as long as he can, just the two of them, until life exhumes them, nom-de-plumes them.
"Hey," he says sleepily against his neck, "it's my birthday."
"Yeah," Reigen sighs. Mob feels it go through his body.
"I want my kiss," Mob says.
"I'll sell it to you. Three hundred yen."
"That's an hour's work."
"It's cheap. It's worth more."
"The window is open. I'll put you on the roof."
"Threatening me." Reigen rolls over to face him. "When did you turn into such a thug?"
The sunlight pours over him like honey, sticky and warm, collecting at his corners. He's smiling, still sleepy, and Mob can't help but return it. He hasn't got an answer for him, anyway. He leans in closer, takes his mouth and it's hot and dry, kind of sour, it tastes of last night. There's a bit of teeth and their noses bump and it's not perfect but he wouldn't change it. He presses their foreheads together when they break.
"Best yet," he says. He feels shy again all of a sudden.
"Your standards are low," Reigen replies. His mouth quirks.
Mob shakes his head. "No," he says simply. "I know what I want."