Chapter Text
Ekubo wasn’t one to possess bodies often, and because of this he usually forgot how vivid colors could appear when gazing through a proper set of human eyes. Shigeo’s bedroom looked different. It was warmer, the corners were less blurry, reds were less subdued, and even the boy himself seemed a little pinker. That maybe had more to do with the fact that he was fresh out of the shower and still dripping wet than anything else, but Ekubo still liked it just the same.
Shigeo was standing still in the center of his room, heat still rising off his skin from the temperature of the water, all buttoned up in his pajamas, ruffling through his hair with a towel to dry it. Night had fallen outside his window, and the sky was dark with clouds. Still, the heat from the day pressed against the window, and it dissipated little by little as the night breeze combed through the trees to assuage the burnt Earth.
Finally finished, Shigeo pulled the towel off his head and stood there, holding it.
“Thank you for carrying me home, Ekubo, but I don’t think I need any more help today.” Shigeo said, standing by his bed, hesitating. Maybe he thought he had to escort him out of the house. Ekubo smiled.
“No problem, Shigeo.” He said, holding his ground by the window in his room, his shoulder pressed against the cool glass.
The boy kneaded the fabric between his fingers as he looked at the man. A number of words were jumbled up on his tongue, Ekubo could tell, but before he could get anything out the spirit pushed himself off the wall and paced over to the boy. He reached out with the warm, long fingers of his host, and took a grip of the kid’s bicep firmly. Ekubo squeezed it a few times, appraising it, tilting his head as he felt Shigeo’s arm through the thick fabric of his pajama shirt. Finally, he let his hand fall back to his side with a cruel grin on his face.
“I guess your time with the Body Improvement Club isn’t completely worthless.” He teased, folding his hands into his pockets, looking down at the small boy as he flushed and gripped the towel in his hands tighter. His cheeks grew a little red under his attentions while he stood there and groped at his arm, but now his face was flaming as he cast his eyes aside. “Can you do three whole pushups now?”
“I can.” Shigeo said, still avoiding his eyes. “Actually, I can do ten.”
“Ten…” Ekubo mused. The two were standing not even a yard apart from one another. Too far away to feel the warmth of his skin.
“What are you doing here, Ekubo?” Shigeo asked, looking up to meet his eyes.
What was he doing here? Ekubo let the question roll around in his mind for a moment. It was a spur of the moment decision to snap up the security guard’s body when he saw him walking down the street. He’d never possessed a body without a plan in mind before. And his feet, already familiar from their earlier escapades, seemed to move on their own – and Ekubo let them. He forgot how nice it felt to feel wind on his cheeks, and the sun on his neck. But when he saw little Shigeo on his hands and knees on the ground outside the school, spit dripping down his chin, froth bubbling at his lips, blood on his knees and tears dried on his cheeks, it wasn’t good intention that stopped him to help the boy up. And he knew that. He then realized, suddenly, that he did in fact have a plan, all along.
“I thought I’d help you out a little.” He said smoothly.
Ekubo strolled over to the lone chair in the room, tucked neatly under a desk. He pulled it out and swung it around, expression casual, and sat down in one fluid motion. He rarely possessed bodies just for fun. They were awkward, cumbersome, always too large or too small for his tastes. The sensations one felt while in one constantly tugged at and distracted and overstimulated even the most focused and disciplined of minds. Emotions bubbled and boiled under thin skin like a tumultuous storm, as though the mind and heart served no other purpose than to heighten what one could already feel. Even when the situation called for it, possessing a human body was always a last resort for him. He disliked the attention to detail required for such practices. Bodies were messy, hard work.
But that didn’t mean Ekubo didn’t know how to use one.
He sat with his left arm over the back of the chair so that his elbow and forearm rested on the desk behind him. His hand fell over the edge of the desk casually, and the tips of his thumb and middle finger brushed together absently every now and then. Ekubo set his right leg on his knee, almost at his ankle, leaving a wide space above his hips. His right hand spread over his thigh and his fingers dug in automatically, appreciating the muscle barely contained by the well-tailored suit he was wearing. The fabric pulled across his lap and over his thighs, and his jacket opened wide at the breast, pulling at the button that looked like it was fighting a losing battle against holding back the raw power that lay just beneath the stitching. He let his head fall to one side in a slow, lazy motion, as he watched the boy’s fingers freeze on the towel.
Eventually, Mob found his words, and they cut into Ekubo’s chest. “Help me with what? Did Reigen-Shishou send you?”
It wasn’t that he was jealous – that’s not something that happens to someone so great. Envy was a foreign emotion to one as powerful as he; a future god had no use for such petty, wasteful feelings. It was more like he was annoyed, really. It was just so blatant, so obvious. And the idiot was, of course, blind to it all. He’d never known someone to be so oblivious. Reigen wouldn’t notice a tornado if it ripped the pants off his ass.
The same ass that Shigeo’s eyes seemed to stick to every day like sweat on a sinner’s hands. Now, maybe if it weren’t every second of the day, Ekubo wouldn’t be so bothered with it. But, it was. And therefore, it bothered him.
But being bothered wasn’t the same as being jealous, right? Maybe he wasn’t even annoyed. He didn’t come all the way to Shigeo’s house to berate him, after all….
“Come here.” He said, quietly. The body had a pleasant voice, and this Ekubo knew, but now he could really see the affect it could have on somebody. Even across the distance between them, Ekubo could see goosebumps rise on Shigeo’s arms, and the blush on his cheeks flare back up in revival.
And Ekubo rather liked being the cause of that for once.
Across the room, Shigeo took a step closer, his feet seemingly moving on their own, almost like he was transfixed, finally caught under his spell, finally out of Reigen’s control and all, completely, totally his.
When Shigeo’s leg was barely an inch away from his own, Ekubo let a smile pull at the corners of his mouth, and he adjusted his legs to sit with both his feet flat on the floor, his hips open wide. He only had to pat his thigh once to get the boy to climb aboard.
The towel was long forgotten on the floor, yards behind Shigeo, who pressed his fingers instead into the thick material of the coat that covered the spirit’s shoulders.