Teru who looks at Reigen like a loyal puppy looks at its owner, always following him around, eyes wide and starry, and Reigen feels so fucking guilty. Why does the kid look at me like I hang the stars on the sky every night? He can't help but wonder. Reigen is confused.
But Teru never stops smiling softly at him, his eyes crinkling and shining gently at Reigen's face. He's so bright it makes Reigen squint; so full of love and light and glitter. Dimple calls him “Annoying ray of goddamn sunshine” — Reigen agrees, though he doesn't think that Teru is annoying. A bit overwhelming, maybe, but not annoying.
Teru often visits Reigen's home.
“It's so lonely in mine,” he says. “Can I stay, please?”
Reigen's mouth always agrees faster than his brain can even process the question. Perhaps it's the way Teru's smile falters when he talks about his house, or the way his eyes dim a little — sight so uncharacteristic for him it's terrifying. As if the sun has stopped radiating warmth.
When they're both alone in the privacy of Reigen's tiny apartment, they barely speak. If anyone saw this, they'd be shocked: two most extroverted people being so silent together, how so?
Reigen thinks they don't need words.
Reigen doesn't really need to speak with Mob or Teru or Ritsu around. The Kageyama brothers aren't talkative in nature, they communicate through actions, and Teru... Maybe he needs a bit of space, tired from all the constant attention from his fangirls, or maybe he craves for comfortable silence, the one that comes along with trust and not with distance.
When Reigen cooks, Teru watches. His eyes are prying, hot on Reigen's skin — like blue flames leaving burns on his body. Reigen bites his tongue, nervous, as the shiver runs down his spine.
“Your hands are very beautiful, Reigen-san," Teru suddenly says, his voice soft like it usually is, but Reigen hears the unknown hint behind it.
He chuckles. “Flattery won't save you from helping me with tomorrow's case, Teru-kun.”
“I'm just being honest. Your hands are so tender. I like it when you touch me.”
Reigen freezes. He feels cold.
“What are you talking about?” He laughs, but he doesn't want to. Teru seems somewhat pleased with his reaction. “Don't say things like that, people would think I'm some kinda creep.”
Teru hums, turning away for a moment just to ponder about something. Sometimes Reigen wishes he could read his mind. “What if it's me?” he asks, staring.
Reigen ignores how his body flinches, frowning in confusion. “What?”
“What if I'm the creep?” Teru smiles again, but it's not innocent nor bright or warm. It's scary.
Reigen's throat tightens, his tongue grows heavy in his mouth. What should he say to this?
He laughs. “You? Seriously?” He pretends, hoping that it's truly how he feels, but his weak knees don't let him believe his own lie. “You're too young and pretty for people to accuse you of anything.”
Teru's smile turns into grin as it widens and sharpens in the edges.
“Right,” he replies easily and laughs too, looking absolutely normal. Reigen blinks. Was it just him? Was it the joke of his abnormal mind, of his wild imagination?
Teru gets up — for a second, Reigen wants to run away, but stills like a rabbit in front of the wolf.
Teru's hand brushes against his.
“Can I make us some tea, Reigen-san?”
Reigen glances at his face: his expression is soft, so familiar, so charming; his gaze is kind and shiny. Pure.
Reigen's heart calms down a little. He sighs, dropping his eyes at his plastered finger, the one Teru took care of when he accidentally cut himself in the office. Teru is a good boy and Mob's best friend. He can trust him.
“Sure.” Reigen nods. There's nothing that can go wrong...
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