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By the time Shigeo stops sneezing, his whole body is warm. At first he thinks it's his imagination, but then he notices the red blotches on his hands. Before his eyes, the redness starts to creep up his arms. He's beginning to feel dizzy, a little nauseous, the way he did last year when he caught the flu.
Master Reigen will know what to do, he reassures himself, and runs back the way he came.
He finds Reigen in the far corner of the greenhouse. “Master,” he pants.
As Shigeo watches, Reigen quickly shoves the strawberry he appears to have just plucked from one of the nearby greenhouse plants into his mouth. "Just checking to see if the produce was cursed. It's not," he says, and swallows. Then his eyes widen as he gets a look at Shigeo. "What happened to you?"
The itchy heat has spread to Shigeo's chest and neck. With effort, he clears his throat and says, "I don't feel well."
Like water, Reigen's expression shifts instantly from concerned to calm. In the soothing voice he reserves for their most agitated customers, he says, "I can see that. Sit down."
Weakly, Shigeo sits on the ground. Reigen bends down to examine him.
"It looks like you have hives," he says, nodding at the spots on Shigeo's hands.
"Is that bad?"
"Depends. Can you swallow?"
Shigeo tries experimentally. He nods.
"Good. Do you feel short of breath?"
"No. Well, sort of. Just from the running. But I can."
"That's okay. Does your face feel swollen at all?"
He shakes his head. "What's wrong with me?"
To his surprise, Reigen says, "Nothing. You're just having a mild allergic reaction. Happens to people all the time."
"Are you sure? It feels worse than it did a few minutes ago." His cheeks feel hot, and his heartbeat is pounding fast in his ears.
"Positive," Reigen says, so confidently that Shigeo almost believes him. "You just exacerbated the reaction running all the way over here, is all. Exercise gets your immune system working overdrive."
"Oh," Shigeo says, eyes widening.
Reigen nods sagely. "The next time this happens, you should just stay still and keep calm. Deep breaths."
"Deep breaths," he repeats. He breathes deeply, in and out. In and out. After several attempts, he feels even dizzier than he did before.
"Not helping?"
Shigeo shakes his head.
"I feel hot."
Reigen reaches out to touch his forehead. His palm is shockingly cool on Shigeo's fevered skin.
"It doesn't feel like you have a fever."
With Reigen's hand on his face, Shigeo can suddenly breathe again. He looks up at Reigen, awed. Then he blinks.
"Master, are hives contagious?"
"Shouldn't be. Why?"
"Because it looks like you have one on your neck."
Reigen frowns and reaches up to touch it.
"Must be a mosquito bite," he says.
It's late in the year for mosquitoes, and Shigeo doesn’t remember seeing the bump earlier. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed it. But just as he's thinking this, another bump materializes just a few centimeters from the first.
Reigen’s cheeks are very red all of a sudden. He rubs his neck.
"If it's a mosquito bite, you shouldn't scratch it," Shigeo says.
"You said you didn’t feel any spiritual energy in here?” Reigen asks, ignoring him.
“No. Not any spirits. There was a big chrysanthemum plant on the other side of the greenhouse, but it didn’t seem possessed, just healthy. And pollen-y.”
“Pollen-y.”
“Master Reigen, your face –”
“I know. It’s fine.” Reigen swallows. “I think I may just be allergic to the same thing you are.”
“Deep breaths,” Shigeo reminds him.
Reigen eyes him suspiciously. “Are you mocking me?”
“What? No.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. Deep breaths.”
The sound of Reigen's slow, deliberate inhale in the humid air of the greenhouse makes the hairs of Shigeo's arms stand on end. His throat tightens as he watches his master adjust the collar of his shirt, loosening his tie. Reigen's skin is looking very blotchy now.
After a moment, Reigen says, "You know what we need, is some fresh air. Let me just step outside for a minute."
The thought of Reigen leaving sends a bolt of panic through Shigeo.
No, he tells himself. You have to relax. But it’s not working. He can feel his own breath coming faster, thinner. Reigen’s hand felt so soothing on his forehead. He wants it back.
“Mob?" Reigen turns back around to him. "Calm down. You're okay. What did I just say about deep breaths?”
“I don't want you to go,” he manages to say.
“I’ll be right outside.”
“Please.”
He pushes up to his knees and grasps for Reigen. His fingers manage to snag onto the shoulder of his blazer.
Reigen doesn’t move out from under his grip but just looks at him, eyes widening a little, like Shigeo really did trap him.
Shigeo leans forward, reaching one hand around the back of Reigen’s shoulder and the other under his arm, along the warm broad expanse of his back. He presses his body against Reigen’s chest and his face into Reigen’s neck. Reigen's skin feels wonderfully solid against him. Shigeo shuts his eyes and breathes him.
He feels Reigen’s hand on his head. The fear that he’ll push him away is instantly quelled as Reigen starts stroking his hair. Shigeo shivers at the feeling.
“Mob,” Reigen says softly. He sounds at a loss. “Does this help?”
Shigeo nods breathlessly against his neck.
“Okay. Good.”
Reigen's hand wanders slowly, absently across his face, down his neck, making his skin tingle.
"This isn't so bad," Reigen says, after a while. "I mean – it stands to reason. When your heart rate picks up, your circulation increases, and so, you know, that … that speeds up the progression of the reaction." He combs his fingers through the hair at Shigeo's neck."So you want to get your heart rate nice and slow. That's what we're doing. Textbook relaxation technique."
It's true; Shigeo can feel his pulse slackening, his body going limp and liquid. There's a warmth in his center that seems to be melting outward, into his limbs. He squirms closer, hugging Reigen tighter.
It's only when Reigen's hand stops moving in his hair that he becomes aware that another kind of heat is building lower down, between his legs. That thing that happens when he wakes up from certain kinds of dreams, or even occasionally in class or – most mortifying of all – during club activities, ever since a year or two ago. It's pressing right into Reigen's thigh.
He needs to pull away, but he can't move.
"I, uh –" He swallows. This might actually be more mortifying than those times in the body improvement club. His legs want to press up against the hard warm planes of Reigen's body like they were just doing, but he knows that's wrong. He doesn't want Reigen to be disgusted by him. He's still hard. "I'm sorry –"
"Nothing to be sorry about," Reigen says, quickly. "It's totally normal."
"That wasn't why I wanted to hug."
"No, I know that. It's just a physical reaction. Everyone your age gets them. I get them. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."
Shigeo knows Reigen is just saying that to make him feel better, which makes him feel worse about the pulse of heat that zings through his body at the words, I get them. His mind conjures up the image of Reigen's familiar gray slacks straining the same way his own are now – he never thought of it before, never even really considered Reigen might have those sorts of needs until this very moment, but now the idea makes his mouth go dry.
"Sometimes you just – hormones, you know, they have a mind of their own," Reigen continues. "I don't take it personally. I know you don't want to do anything."
"If I did want to, would that be bad?" Shigeo asks.
He feels Reigen go still against him.
"Are we talking hypothetically, here?"
"… Yes?"
"Right. Well, in that case, then I, uh – in my professional opinion, I wouldn't say it's bad, but I would exercise caution, because you've just been in a stressful situation, with a lot of adrenaline, and sometimes when there's an excess of adrenaline in a person's system it makes them think they want things that they don't actually want." Reigen's voice feels like it's sinking straight into Shigeo's skin. "They've done studies – you know, they make people cross a rickety bridge, or ride a Ferris wheel together, and then those people report feeling more attracted to one another than they would otherwise because they confuse the fear and the relief they've just experienced with love. You get what I'm saying?"
Fear and relief just makes Shigeo think of that time they went up against Claw's thirteenth division, when Reigen grabbed his face and said It's okay to run away. The all-encompassing freedom he'd felt as he'd looked into Reigen's eyes and known in his core that everything was going to be all right. He'd thought, I'd do anything for him.
Shakily, he reaches for Reigen's hands and puts them on either side of his own face, the way they were back then. Just like a few minutes ago, the cool pressure of Reigen's touch settles the restless energy inside of him, dissolving the shame and fear in his belly like they were never there. He looks up into Reigen's eyes, not even sure what he's asking for, only certain beyond a doubt that Reigen can provide it.
For a second, time stands still.
"… But then again, a Ferris wheel is just a Ferris wheel, and if two people decide they want to ride it then it's not like it's going to kill them," Reigen says under his breath, and leans in.
The hot, sweet pressure of his lips against Shigeo's own feels even better than his hands did. Shigeo wilts, opening up to him; he's never kissed anyone before and doesn't know if that's even what you're supposed to do, but it feels right, and Reigen responds by taking Shigeo's bottom lip between his teeth, then soothing it with his tongue, which feels even better. It's like a stream of sunlight pouring into Shigeo's core, melting him from the inside out. He presses forward and shudders as Reigen's hands slide from his face to the back of his neck, coaxing him fully into his lap. Shigeo rocks down against Reigen's leg. It's starting to feel like maybe he has been possessed by a ghost after all, a worldly greenhouse spirit that understands why it feels so good to have Reigen touching him.
When he shifts his hips to get more friction, his knee encounters an unexpected pressure. He feels Reigen exhale into his mouth. It takes a minute to put two and two together, and when it clicks, Shigeo's whole body goes hot. He slides his hand into the space between their bodies, and puts it right there, on Reigen's straining hardness.
"Wait," Reigen mutters, breaking away. "Mob. Have you ever done this before?"
Shigeo shakes his head. He tries to move his fingers, but Reigen grabs his wrist, trapping him.
"Before you do, I need to tell you something important. Maybe one of the most important lessons you'll ever learn from me."
He sounds serious. Shigeo goes still. "What?"
Reigen takes a deep breath. "First times are overrated."
Shigeo frowns.
"I'm serious, Mob. I know society makes a big deal about them, but the fact is, they're almost always lousy. It's like – I don't know, like riding a bike for the first time. Are you any good at it? No. Does that matter? Also no. The important thing is that you learned to ride one in the end, not the specific mechanics of how you learned, or who your teacher was. Do you get what I’m saying?"
"I don't … no."
"That's okay. Just remember it for later. When you think about this tomorrow – remember, none of what's going to happen in the next few minutes matters."
Doubtfully, Shigeo nods. Then his breath catches, as the hand that was trapping him molds over his, so that they're both pressing down on Reigen's erection. Reigen encourages his fingers to squeeze down. He shows Shigeo how to stroke, and then he's helping him unfasten those trusty gray slacks and guiding Shigeo's hand into his underwear, past the intriguingly adult thicket of hair and to the soft, straining heat of the part of him Shigeo never before now imagined he'd ever be able to touch.
He's touching Master Reigen. He has his hand on him, and Master Reigen is letting him keep it there – he's hard, because of him. Just when Shigeo has worked up the nerve to start moving his fingers, Reigen's other hand presses against his own hard-on, startling him.
"Master," he breathes. His body throbs.
"Still okay?" Reigen asks in a low voice. Shigeo nods desperately. Reigen's fingers slide up to undo his buttons. When this proves difficult to accomplish one-handed, Shigeo uses his powers to help, which only startles Reigen for a moment before he's back on course, rubbing Shigeo through the damp fabric of his briefs.
Shigeo whines and cants his hips into Reigen's palm. With his other hand, he fumbles to imitate Reigen's movements, squeezing and stroking him. He feels so unlike himself; he should be embarrassed to be making so many strange and embarrassing noises, but it feels too good to want to stop. He can feel a sort of pressure building up inside him – not the kind he gets when he's on the verge of exploding, but another, stranger kind – and it makes him tingle all over, like he's become someone different and he doesn't know if he likes it – hates it – but either way it's happening and he doesn't have any way to stop it.
"Wait –" he gasps. He can't breathe. "Wait, Master, I can't ... I'm going to ..."
"Just let go. Don't hold it in. Just think of this like you're sick. You're sick, and you're dreaming, that's all."
Shigeo shakes his head. He doesn't want this to be a dream. But Reigen's hand is still stroking him, his touch searing on Shigeo's skin, and before Shigeo knows it, his breath is catching in his throat and his hips are twitching and then with a whimper he's spilling in the space between them.
When he's done, he reaches for Reigen.
Reigen says, "Wait. You don't have to. You … you should rest."
"I'm not tired," he says. And weirdly, it's the truth. He feels restless. Shivery. Almost … itchy.
Reigen glances down, and, with a sigh, invites Shigeo back onto his lap.