Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8225062.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      モブサイコ100_|_Mob_Psycho_100
  Relationship:
      Hanazawa_Teruki/Kageyama_"Mob"_Shigeo
  Character:
      Kageyama_"Mob"_Shigeo, Hanazawa_Teruki, Kageyama_Ritsu, Reigen_Arataka
  Additional Tags:
      Boys_In_Love, Fluff_and_Smut, Blow_Jobs, Anal_Fingering, Wet_Dream, it
      seems_like_a_lot_but_it's_mostly_fluff
  Series:
      Part 2 of One_Night_Away
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-10-06 Words: 1594
****** Could Do, Should Do, Will Do ******
by ManholeDiver
Summary
     Mob finds out more about Teru, and more about himself.
Notes
     this is mostly an interlude to the first part of the fic, i wanted to
     write even sweeter terumob. i want these boys to feel safe about
     their love.
See the end of the work for more notes
There were hundreds of little things that Mob found out about Teru, for
example: the lights dancing around the river bank, where they often met,
weren’t really lights. They were spirits of thousands of bugs’ lives merged
into one. Mob kept watching them, fascinated, until his eyes were hurting. Teru
had rubbed his eyelids with fondness.
When he closed his eyes, the shapes of the spirits were taking longer to
disappear than the myriad of water drops reflecting the sunset light.
When he closed his eyes, the ghosts could be seen floating more clearly.
When he closed his eyes, Teru took his face between his hands and kissed him
deeply. They weren’t many people around and they weren’t looking at them. Mob
kissed him back, the remains of the ghost lights fading behind his eyelids.
 
Mob found out the sayings that your beloved smelled like cinnamon, musk, fruits
and whatnot were sweet lies people told him to make him dream more. Teru’s hair
smelled like his fruity shampoo, his hands smelled like his winter flower
scented cream and his face occasionally smelled like expensive moisturizers.
But his body scent itself? Mob couldn’t describe it. It was Teru’s. It started
to smell something close to complete trust, safety. A scent that could calm him
down when he felt his emotions surge. A scent that could get him hot, hard and
wet. 
He loved the specific scent of Teru’s nape the rare times Mob was the big
spoon. 
He loved the scent of Teru’s cock (and had a hard time admitting it to himself)
when he was nuzzling it before taking it into his mouth. 
He loved the scent of his tummy, when they were cuddling on Teru’s couch, Mob
falling asleep with the calm heartbeat of Teru, under his skin. Mob felt like
he was a part of him, and in a sense, he was.  
 
Mob found out that Reigen cared about him more than he thought. He confessed
his love for Teru in a soft voice, not daring to look at his master’s face. He
missed the wistful smile, the somewhat sad look in Reigen’s eyes. Reigen could
see the little boy, that once stumbled into his office, grow into a blooming
teenager who could voice his doubts and emotions out loud. A boy that had
support from someone who understood what it was like to have immense powers.
Then Reigen had regained his composure when he lit a cigarette. Nostalgia was
inappropriate. As the nicotine rushed through his head and cleared his mind, he
opened his jacket’s pocket and took a roll of condoms and two little packs of
salt. “Stay safe, kid.” Mob has sputtered some words of denial, too quick not
to lie. He accepted them after flailing, sweat covering his face. 
Before he could get his hands on it, Reigen got a call for weird noises and
headaches and pens attacking their owners, so Mob had The Talk in the middle of
an exorcism. The mad ghost looked kind of taken aback by Reigen’s knowledge of
enema.
Mob told Teru about it, and had to suffer through ten minutes of incessant
laughs.
 
Mob found out what it felt like to be called a fag. It had happened once, and
it took him a long time to calm down, as firsts tended to shake him more than
he thought. He sat on his bed, left hand clasped in Teru’s, right hand, cold in
Ritsu’s. He didn’t cry, as Teru explained the situation to Ritsu. Teru was
still calling him “little brother” which made Ritsu tick but, oh well, it
wasn’t important at the moment. 
One esper in shock, one esper drowning in anger and worry, one esper trying to
calm them down could do miracles. The furniture stayed intact.
Mob fell asleep on his brother’s shoulder, as Teru and him still talked
quietly, trying not to wake him up. He was lulled by the voices of two people
he trusted with his life. 
The slur was still in the back of his head. If anything, it made him bolder in
his actions. Not by much, but the boy needed simple victories. There will be
numerous other times to assess his existence.
 
Mob found out he really liked having Teru’s fingers inside of him. He liked
getting off quickly without touching himself, just from being fingered slow and
nice, then dirty and quick, prostate hit several times until he’d come all over
himself, the pressure burning through his veins, legs shaking, moans wavering
and turning into high-pitched whines. 
He tended to cry after these particular orgasms. 
He found out Teru really liked having his name called when he was coming, which
was always a complicated thing to accomplish since Teru’s favorite way to come
was by and in Mob’s mouth. But they found a way.
There was a day, a long cold day, where they snuggled naked under Mob’s
blanket, where they started to writhe and rub on each other, Teru’s body taut,
thumbs pressed on Mob’s cute pink nipples. Mob had dipped down between Teru’s
legs, after he eagerly asked if he could suck him off. It went both ways: Mob
really liked having Teru’s cock in his mouth. He liked the stretch of his lips,
the weight of the cock, he liked seeing the pleasure spilling on Teru’s face.
And this night, they had to be more careful. Ritsu was in the room next door,
Mob’s parents still up in the living room. Mob had tried so hard to be silent
and not moaning around Teru’s dick like he was used to, and… His jaws blocked
with a terrible click. Teru slid away fast and carefully from his mouth,
touched his boyfriend’s cheek. It unlocked in a near-pain sensation. Mob was
desperately relieved to go out with an esper boyfriend. 
This night, though, they went back to sleep without doing anything else. It had
been too much.
 
Mob found out loving someone was like looking at the sun for too long. He felt
blinded and scorched after an argument filled with harsh words. He was left
with sunburns, skin too tight to move comfortably, heart beating fast and hard
in the hurt zones. The skin always peeled and, under the dead skin, apologies
appeared. Still too tender from the burns, but there. 
Teru, sometimes, couldn’t place his giant ego in other things than sunlight
rays outbursts. 
Mob’s love was the weak lights of fireflies in the dead of the night. Sometimes
he had troubles to adapt, but he loved deeply. But they made it through every
time. They could talk. 
And when they couldn’t, the longing touch of their auras pushing on each other
was enough.
 
Mob found out wet dreams were actually a thing, and not something that his
classmates were talking about with careful and excited whispers. One night, he
dreamed of one of Teru’s hands rubbing slowly on his cock while the other was
deeply fingering his ass. He could feel the teasing feather-like touch on his
hole, the stretching easier, the pressure inside. He could see Teru’s face
illuminated by streetlamps outside, the pleasure building when Teru gripped his
cock harder, stroking the underside and pushing on the slit of his cock.
 Sensations were too many to name, too many to count, when the dream took
unexpected shapes of thighs fucking, of him pushing into Teru’s hole, of
thrusting so deep Teru was crying out. He could feel himself waking up near the
end as pleasure was pulsing out of him, hips rhythmically undulating on a soft
surface. He was too close to coming that he couldn’t stop, and he suppressed
tiny moans in his shoulder, ass clenched, feet kicking the mattress
uncontrollably.
He woke up wet and ashamed, pajama pants pooled around his ankles, his
softening cock in his hand, sheets, pillow, shirt drenched in precome and come.
He had rubbed his dick on his pillow, between his thighs. The next morning had
been terribly uncomfortable, as he asked his mother how to wash the laundry.
 
Mob found out Teru liked challenges, to palliate the void of his family (he was
only a teenage boy, after all). So when they could, they’d find an empty space
to destroy and rebuild again. Some sort of power play that Mob always won, as
long as they didn’t start to physically fight. Usually, it finished when Teru
was gripping Mob’s waist and kissing him as every part of concrete, wood and
iron was reduced to dust. It was great control exercice. 
Sometimes they tried to fly as high as they could, feeling light-headed when
they headed too far from the atmosphere. They would try to free-fall from the
sky, a weird sort of chicken race.
 
Mob found out that Teru’s hair wasn’t as soft as it looked, despite the oils,
the conditioners and the hair masks, as he spent many afternoons and mornings
petting his head.
 
Mob found out Teru needed attention when his eyes were wavering from the sky to
the ground.
 
Mob found out Teru was more honest and straight-forward than he thought.
 
Mob found out he loved Teru more and more with each passing day.
 
Mob found out it was okay not to be perfect at keeping control, that it was
okay to show his emotions in other extreme ways than letting his powers go all-
out, in anger or in gratitude.
 
It was still a bit scary, to discover so many new things, but it was oh so
good, in the end. Oh so good.
End Notes
     it was more poetic than i thought it would be, and for once i'm
     satisfied!
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