destinytown | (no subject)

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[ saitama's secret stash...

...is something of a misnomer. there's nothing really secret about it, for one; the man doesn't have a lot of space to work with, and everything there is to see in his home is more or less in plain sight. he doesn't have much to hide, made abundantly clear every time genos performs a thorough bi-weekly sweep of their surroundings.

sensei, this flyer is from last month...
don't mind it, it doesn't expire for a while, you know?

the coupons tend to be long-expired, but genos won't say a thing. it's better to live and let live, or on those cases, not let his sensei know so he can pick up any wanted groceries in his stead. saitama doesn't need to know the real price. if he wants to keep thinking the value is worth something in the long run, so be it. frugality is one of his dozens of virtues, anyway.

what passes for the stash is typically nothing more than the latest magazines, advertisements, and other paraphernalia well-stocked by genos to ensure that sensei is continuing to thrive. originally it started out as something of a team effort (though saitama really hadn't seen the need at the time), growing into more and more of genos's side project over time. it makes sense, what with how busy sensei is these days. there's always a squabble here, a fight there, the here association pulling at their ears all the while...

lately saitama isn't even around, which leaves his young ward to his own devices, more often than not. there's no problem in it when genos has plenty of things to study, hero duties he can catch up on, plus the occasional tune-up at dr. kuseno's lab.

which leads him to wonder: what in the world is with this growing pile of discs in the living room?

video games... genos knows of them. his years spent as a cyborg of justice doesn't mean he's forgotten the past, forgotten some of the things which used to fill his spare time. but why are they filling sensei's? surely his hours could be better spent climbing the ranks of the association, just as he encouraged genos to do. not that sensei doesn't know best; he probably has a plan he hasn't told genos of yet, doing things in his own way. sensei, after all, is the strongest man the world has ever seen. what does ranking have to do with it?

at this point it's purely speculation. they could be here due to any number of things. there's no telling they belong to saitama in the first place. it's entirely possible they might have something to do with how much time he spends around the s-class's seventh best. as for why king would be influencing him to bring home piles and piles of games, it's beyond genos's reasoning. is it for training? it has to be for training.

now he's drawn a conclusion, able to proceed with no issues. a little tidying is fine, far from unwelcome, and sensei will appreciate it. if he asks, it's very possible they could play together too, like he does with the king.

if...oh.

wait.

a lot of these don't look like they're for two players at all...

and that is how the biomechanical boy has found himself sprawled out on the floor in the middle of the afternoon, transfixed by a now-empty jewel case with a scantily-clad girl on the packaging, her moans on the television screen ringing in his ears.

training. this is for training. sensei just needed a little...brushing up on how to talk to women. judging from how genos has fared in his game so far, he doesn't seem to have the same trouble. if anything, it's been all too easy to win over this virtual girl's affections and lure her into the bedroom. surely they don't act this way in the real world, too. genos's fanclub throwing themselves at them left and right is harrowing enough! ]

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[ it's a conflict of interests on genos's end. for as much as he'd like to punish and belittle sonic for al the trouble he's causing, he's also utterly smitten with the guy, divided between wanting to dote on him or dive in with reckless abandon, reenacting when he first plowed him into the ruins of this old place. there's no telling which will win out over the other; he's struggling to find a balance amongst the two. sonic is clearly into the harsher side of their business, but maybe, just maybe, he could be won over by something more subdued, as well.

he can work for it as he likes. genos hasn't reached the point where he'll restrain him again, though he might be inclined to, if his patience continues to be tested. ]

Aren't you? [ his attention dwindles, lazily wanting sonic go to town. he supposes he should be happy, on some level, to be used in this way, living up to his own proclamations. really, he could (and assuredly has) be taken by anyone he desires. it didn't have to be genos. it didn't have to be here. this is nothing like the fever-induced frenzy he'd been a part of before. just as easily, he could've slipped away from the prison of genos's embrace, dealt the final blow, or at least have torn off the offending enhancement he had gone to such great lengths to obtain.

but for what it's worth, he's here. there's that sentimental streak returning to the surface, spurring genos to croon static at him, snuffle futher down. he smells like he tastes; blood and sweat, primarily, with an extra something hidden past that. ] You're milking me like one. [ not that genos would know. since whorish behavior seems to suit sonic, however, he'll roll with it. fastening his mouth to the bend of his neck should emphasize that, faintly recalling how much that had worked in his favor the first time. ]

[ sonic will call him out on that, pausing his movements at the pressure at his neck, humming: ] As if you'd know.

[ maybe he will in the future, who can tell. just because the kid is favoring the villain so much, it doesn't mean that it'll last. there are plenty younger, more obedient people out there to take his pick from, take the time to decide who he should court, if they're even worth the time of day.

clearly sonic isn't aware of how deep the affection really goes. if he does then he's highly convinced it'll remain a passing fancy, a puppy love that'll dwindle with time, with experience. besides, exclusivity doesn't settle right with speed of sound sonic, hasn't ever thought of having a significant other. a partner would just slow him down, be a burden that's not worth the time and effort involved. he had enough work on his plate as it is, much to think about that doesn't require the help of someone else. if that had ever been the case, then he's sure it would have happened many moons ago, right when he started to have passing fancies of his own.

that time had never come, doesn't think it ever will. romance was for weak-willed individuals who weren't satisfied with themselves. sonic likes himself, likes to be by himself, and doesn't feel the urge to seek out someone to fill nonexistent gaps in his life.

but… sometimes, when his cyborg sex toy is around, he has a habit of doing things that sonic is pretty certain would fall under the “couples” category. what's worse is that sonic played along more often than not, thinking nothing of it until giving it a good look after putting some distance between them. it was stifling, uncomfortable, yet not entirely bad. that was the most baffling thing of them all.

there are worse things in life. like usual, sonic’s good at going with the flow, see where things take him. genos certainly isn't doing any of that for him, unperturbed by the absence of participation. it makes sense, sonic is the one with more experience here. it's only logical that he shows this metal man what makes him tick, how to guide without actually leading. trusting he'll be held up, sonic releases his hold, contorting his arms about to show him what to do; splaying surprisingly soft palms flush against his back, he places one in the groove of his shoulder blades, the other at the small of his back. this helps support his weight evenly as he starts to rock, piercing himself on genos's hot, slick cock.

the new position is ideal for what sonic’s trying to accomplish, wanting to fuck himself without having to rely on what genos will or won't do. unless he meets him at every thrust, but he couldn't give a damn either way as long as he's satisfied. ]

Edited 2016-01-13 05:36 (UTC)

[ not even genos understands how far this reaches. it took until a prolonged absence on sonic's end for him to realize he was beginning to feel much of the same stirrings that had buried their roots into him after he crossed paths with saitama, a concept not as disturbing as he thought it was going to be, yet still something to force him to give pause, take stock of what it meant and where it would go. he'd hoped that by seeing him again after their long night (and morning, and afternoon) together, it would give him some greater insights, but it's all been decimated in a hail of kunai and shuriken, in nasty injuries and nastier words which won't fade so fast.

to say it's complicated is putting it lightly. at the same time, when it's boiled down to its most basic components, it...really isn't. without taking into account the expectations of his employers, genos likes sonic. he enjoys his company, enjoys the pet he's caretaking, has learned to find a vague appreciation for his sense of humor, the media he consumes, and to a hair-thin thread of an extent, some of his scruples, or lack thereof. there are many things about him he doesn't know, has never dared to ask, either not seeing the need to or having a healthy amount of privacy towards someone who is, for all intents and purposes, a trained master when it comes to espionage and intrigue. side by side, genos is a wide open book in comparison.

and he likes this, though he could do without a large amount of sonic's back-talk. his eyes roll at the latest update, choosing not to supply him with any more fuel for a fire that needs to be stamped out already. playing a spectator has so many more benefits: unbeknownst to him, the optic cameras genos has on hand keep tabs on every movement he makes down to the last inscrutable detail, something he'll be incredibly grateful for during the evenings when sensei's running late, or crashing at someone else's place when he doesn't have the heart to catch a train ride home.

yet he doesn't plan on cooperating, doesn't want to meet sonic halfway, and by now it's strictly out of childish spite. words are less of genos's forte, his overly-violent phase has passed, and he's too far gone to not see this through until the bitter end. so it's time to stop doing all the work for a change, less giving, more receiving. he'll see what sonic can take away from that, humming lowly in his chest to show he's at least acknowledging his efforts, head tipped back from where it was hiding to witness him, not missing a beat. ]

[ giving is the last thing on sonic's mind right now. what, just because he's doing a little work here means he cares if it gives genos a break or not? absurd. for all the hemming and hawing he did, the half-naked ninja's a thousand times more self-centered than his friend here could ever be. it's bad enough that his ego is stretched to the brim and beyond, with no stopping it in sight, but to also be careless of anyone else's pleasure is a sight to be seen.

he's moving without a care in the world, goaded on even further from having an audience at his disposal. those wide hips aren't just for show, they're a powerful force to be reckoned with, showing off just how good he is at controlling them, his stomach tight and taunt from the effort. this is easy work for him, even after an intense orgasm, having more room to go above and beyond even when exhaustion hits him. there'll be none of that, not now, not when his head is thrown back at an uncomfortable angle, labored breaths coming out in abrupt, trembling waves. with his hands pressed flat against genos's chest plates, it opens up the opportunity for him to go as fast as he pleases, adjusting his legs after one long slide down resumes the shaking in his thighs.

a mindless fuck is all he's after, chasing after it for his own good, though still more than happy to put on a show while he's at it. the crack at his lip is once again roughly abused, whining lowly at the base of his throat, eyes squeezed tightly in concentration. this is good, this is great—it's one thing to be doted on, given everything and more, but there's something distinctly right about a masturbatory technique when coupled with another person.

this probably stems from his urge to hog everything to himself. only sonic knows the real answer to that, would think anyone was an idiot to think otherwise, truthfully.

a pair of brows ruck in the middle after he's found the right angle, one that hardens him fully in a repeat performance. now his mouth is drawn wide open, chest rising and falling at an increased speed, movements becoming more and more inconsistent. sonic's not as close as he wants to be, not quite yet, but he knows it's coming, murmuring out some incoherent babbling in the meanwhile about how perfect this is, how it's thick, so firm, he can come again just like this, again without so much as a stroke to his own flushed, throbbing shaft. ]

[ who's selfish now? genos is a nice boy--always has been, always will be--so he isn't going to say a thing, giving sonic the free reign to rut like a wild animal to his heart's content. he won't deny that there's something about his shamelessness he finds so captivating, a beastly sense of abandonment as present here as it was in their quarrel. of course, the difference here is he's no longer got his eyes glued to genos, probably doesn't entirely remember where he is or who owns the dick he's continually hungry for.

that won't do. inspired by sonic's insolence, genos closes the ever-increasing distance separating them, a towering shadow in his field of vision. his head moves just so, homing in on sonic's mouth, his split bottom lip, crimson droplets beading on the surface. he cannot help himself from letting his tongue dance over it in an encore of their previous kiss, urging him to pay attention with ragged breaths and some heavy, half-muttered commentary on how he's greedy as well as filthy. as soon as he knows he's roused him, it escalates, sealing their lips together in more proper kissing, slippery and hot and as agonizingly slow as the punishing grind of genos's length was before.

it's only after a long, thoughtful moment of sucking on sonic's abused lip that he can really speak his mind, the burning amber rings of his eyes intensely staring back at steel slits which probably aren't seeing a thing. ] Watch me.

[ is he watching? he'd better be watching, or else he's going to miss out on genos enfolding the girth of hia cock from root to head, sliding so easily it doesn't need any extra aid on his end. he hasn't touched sonic like this yet, not with such purpose, nor any longer than a fleeting moment in passing. he'd like to think the way it pulses in time with each stroke, up and down, is due to him, and not the standard byproduct of hurrying to chase an empty, animalistic release. ]

I want to make you come-- [ he's so hoarse, so earnest it borders on a plea, eager to see the man rise and fall once again. he wants it to be by his hands, and more importantly, he wants him to remember, take something away from this feud to look back on besides the bruises and bitterness in his heart. ]

[ the kiss is openly welcomed, no matter how fast or slow, long or short it ends up being. unlike most of the population, there's nothing romantic or emotional attached to his lips connecting with someone else's, honestly just enjoying it for what it is, purely at face value. things laced with double-meaning doesn't exist in the bedroom (or wherever he's being bedded) for sonic, relying only on the raw, simplistic form of physical gratification.

that's all there is to it, and it increases tenfold with how filthy this is, as genos is becoming so fond of calling him. still, it's sometimes nice to focus on whose lips are attacking him, stealing the already waning breath from his tired lungs.

something more is definitely stirring inside of him, a direct correlation to genos’s demand. it makes a shiver return to his rocking form, doing what he's told for once, peering out from dark, heavy lashes. the striking shine of yellow eyes somehow does things to him that he can't quite comprehend, a fleeting thought that's gone as soon as a mechanical palm grips at stiff flesh. it earns genos a lewd, low groan, staring down at what's happening below, from the precise timing of his strokes to the cock he's stuttering to slide down.

seating himself fully, the assassin is back to craning his neck, tilted slightly to the side to keep up with the order he was given. that's attractive in its own light, breaking a short chuckle for the trouble, though ceasing the flow of laughter after hearing the mechanical boy's latest statement.

huh. who knew the sincerity in his voice would also wash over sonic in a strangely satisfying manner, suddenly wanting nothing more than to give in to the request. that'll be easy at this point, worked up and ready to start moving again, resuming at a quickened pace. the wet slap of still-reddened flesh against metal echoes in the otherwise empty space, further fanning the already out of control fire. everything in his body is throbbing, coiled and tense from so much pressure building up inside him. another grind is all it takes, spilling over less harshly than before, but with no less intensity, toes curling and cracking from the force. if he's muttering nonsense again, he won't ever know, so lost in the sparks that fill his vision and blur the world around them. ]

[ good. this is good—he hasn't felt this satisfied since catching one of sensei's triumphant victories over seemingly impossible odds. not that those curl warmth through him like this does, holding no shame as the air heaves through his vents in excitement, systems laboring to maintain their control.

he'll chase sonic for the second time today, allowing bits and pieces of his feedback to trickle back in little by little. the first of note is sonic's rhythmic clenching around him, faintly amused at how it matches in time with the way his seed seeps all over them. it may not be as impressive of a sight as the first one, but it's still his, winning a leaden groan deep from the depths of the demon cyborg, embarrassingly needy as his hips resume rocking at long last.

the way they move together is tortuous. his second discovery is how wet sonic has become, anatomical knowledge reminding him this can't possibly be a natural occurrence. all signs point to the gift of his handcrafted hardness, bringing upon him a deeper satisfaction at the disheveled mess he's turned sonic into. very good. although it's not going to last, he can still treat it as something of a possessive marker, a feat only he alone is capable of pulling off, unless the redundant round circle has taken some unbelievably peculiar partners to bed before. hopefully not that peculiar.

ah, but he's about to overstay his welcome, isn't he? he can feel the body he's burrowing into grow mildly restless, whispering benign apologies against swollen lips, to bear with it just a little while longer. genos is so close, straddling the edge like sonic has, recovering the steady motions of every thrust, not too soft or severe, a middle ground to tread while making up for lost time. this could become addicting, he's sure, struggling to time each plunge with every upstroke of his hand still wringing every last drop out of sonic till he shoos him elsewhere. and that's addicting, too, mourning when he starts losing some of his rigidity, falling back down to earth. he'll definitely want to become better acquainted with this part of him (with everything, really) in the near future. ]

[ it's fine—those are the first words he speaks once he's come down from his high, voice taking on a more gruff edge in relation to working his vocal cords until there's barely any life there. his gaze ceases to be in the meantime, shut peacefully as he noses at a more prominent one in front of him, chasing after it with his lips. it's as fond of a gesture as he's going to get, but sonic chalks it up to the warm spread across his body that typically comes after he's come. maybe genos will appreciate it, maybe it'll go overlooked. it doesn't matter, really, slipping back down to connect his bruised mouth against a less wrecked one, sharing breathing space while the teen chases after his own release.

besides, it's not like sonic's unused to his partners taking a time longer, sometimes going so far as to keep pummeling deep inside even after sonic's long finished. on some days it's thrilling, a means to force himself to ride through over-stimulation, peak again from the stretch and burn it causes. other times he's threatening to cut off the offending appendage, typically met with compliance and frightened apologies that have no real sincerity behind it. sonic couldn't care less as long as they follow what he says, always one to be the bossiest, the meanest, never having anything to lose.

with genos it's a bit different. a lot of things are when it comes to this blond, justice-loving cyborg, and it isn't just because he's sporting a dick that seems to stand at attention without any fuss involved. sonic's accepted some of it, refuses to acknowledge the rest, but they're at least friends in the most basic sense of the word, whether he truly wants to maim him for good or not. that fire has left him, thankfully, burnt to ashes and cast away into the wind. this probably won't happen again (the violence, not the sex) not when genos is so... him, for a lack of solid description sonic can muster. this was all on the ninja's end, a pent-up aggression he needed to try and see through. he's not terribly surprised that it didn't pan out the way he wanted, leading to greener, more pleasurable pastures instead.

speaking of pleasure, is his robot close? sonic won't ask, doesn't feel the need to when the smooth drag prolongs those tingles from running down his spine, reminds him that he's had not one, but two satisfying orgasms in the span of however long they've been going at it. at least he's resilient, used to the hot soreness that'll overtake him in due time. that's what comes with being 100% human. ]

[ genos has no measure for where he's going in every sense of the word. while it's true he's had a...healthy amount of practice with his hands behind closed doors, he's always been the one to guide himself, learning what to expect, what happens when he twists like so, rubs the tip just right, thinks about the long line of a certain man's neck he'd love to sink his titanium teeth into and never let go.

in contrast, this is a wild, heady ride which knows no limits in either its journey or ultimate destination. his second (is it the second, or was the first incident a mere preview?) orgasm, in fact, sucker punches him straight out of nowhere so swiftly it seems like a sudden cruel joke for the universe to throw at him. it's not even from something significant; not from his slick, successive writhing into sonic, not the pressure, not any lingering brush from a stray fingertip or a quaking thigh. no, it's the damned coarse edge to sonic's voice that sets him off, startled by the realization, and powerless to stop when he convulses throughout.

he expects to shoot off like a rocket, confused when he's throbbing and nothing more. maybe it's a malfunction, too fatigued to give any of it his full consideration. he'll accept it for what it is, slowing to a crawl for the final time and letting gravity do its work when genos leans forward on the wall, slipping out unexpectedly. the change in air spooks him anew, leaving more tremors to his circuits in its wake. dazed, a little fucked-out, he squints blearily at sonic and gradually sinks into a crouch, still clutching him to his chest as close as he can.

that's it, then. what happens now? genos is loathe to let go, staring blankly ahead of them at the cracks in the wall, fissures he knows they've helped contribute to. there's probably a procedure for this, but he can't string a coherent thought past sonic feeling soft in places where he shouldn't, how for all their exertion this jasmine-flower scent miraculously continues to cling to his split hair, his neckline, a myriad of other areas. and his scarf is torn beyond reasonable repair.

these mundane details help to calm him, give his breathing a chance to regulate, internal algorithms belatedly revving up his cooling. he's deaf to the sound, to the cloud billowing behind him, far preferring to take stock of his partner, draw some comfort in the fact he's not kicking or hissing, biting at him like an angry stray cat to cut loose from his clutches. maybe it'll catch up to him, or maybe he's as temporarily content as genos is. it's not for him to say. ]

[ being settled down while still encased in surprisingly gentle robotic arms barely registers to sonic, his exhaustion kicking in the moment genos finishes. he must have peaked to completion, anyway, even without the telltale sputter of tacky liquid he's sometimes accustomed to being filled with. that's fine, it makes cleanup a lot easier when there's nothing that needs to be wiped down, minus the spunk that's drying at his belly. that can most certainly be overlooked for the time being.

the heat between them is gradually thinning out, belatedly missing how the other's scorching plates nearly melted off his thin, impossibly tight suit. there's not much of that left, either, now realizing this when cool air hits his skin, making him shiver for half a second. oh well, sonic has plenty of the same outfit, the same scarf that's torn to shreds from their fight. in comparison, he's surprised that genos's clothes have stayed relatively in the clear, minus the dust and soot that clings to it, a slice at the side of his shirt where sonic's sword missed its cutthroat mark.

a tired look over a sturdy shoulder is all he's going to do for the moment, taking the time to breathe, allow his body to stop the small, shaking ripples that continue to rattle and ail him so. usually he'd pull himself away and be done with it, but in all truthfulness, sonic needs the bodily support for at least a while longer. he might possess a strength that's typical for someone like him, yet he's guessing that being well-fucked after a heated battle gives him some leeway to be like this, lazily resting his cheek against a cabled neck.

this moment spans for a long while, knowing that genos won't suddenly try to converse, allow him some time to recuperate. that's all he'll need, pulling a fraction back, away far enough so the pair can be face-to-face. ] ...

[ a lazy, loose smirk inches out of the shadows, reaching up at either side of genos's head to thread ten digits into a mop of hair, ruffle the mussed up strands. ] You look good like this. [ it's a simple statement, supposed to be taken for what it is, even when his hands stay there after he's dutifully entertained. ]

[ if this is a compliment? it sounds a lot like a compliment, hitting closer to home than any praise about his new...enhancements did. not that those weren't welcomed.

genos is blushing, a light dusting of pink which contrasts with one of his tattered, exposed cheeks, but his voice is calm. ] Like what?

[ does he resemble sonic in the slightest? from this angle, his handiwork is hard to admire, studying him quietly nonetheless. the missing topknot is something he's going to have to get used to, shoving that momentary pang of regret aside before it ends up spoiling the moment. this is worth preserving in some form. ]

[ the smirk stays in place, giving one last shake with his fingers before they're resting on the crook between neck and shoulder. ] Sexed out.

[ sonic has an idea how he looks, so disheveled and flushed from their frenzied coupling. it's one of his better looks, he thinks, practically radiating where he currently rests. ]

[ he needs a moment to decipher the phrasing. once it dawns on him, he's snorting in amusement, looking the other way to avoid sonic's critical eyes.

so he likes the way he looks. he likes a lot of things about genos, perhaps, even if the extent of them have pertained to what they're sharing here, now. his flush deepens, trying to find the right words past a curt thank you while continuing to gaze upon nothing of major importance to him. ]

You could see it more often. If you wanted. [ smooth, genos. it's so close and yet so far away from anything he'd actually want to say. in time it will come, after they've both cooled down from their passion. it still sparks between then in unexpected points, late to notice how bare sonic's actually become.

good thing he's already retracted. round three isn't on the horizon, for now. ]

[ those words earn him a laugh. not exactly at him, but out of sincere amusement, lacking the mocking tone he usually carries with it. doing it at his expense isn't intended, soothing the blow with a gentle flick to his nose. ]

I'd like to see a lot of things more often. [ pointedly looks past his own nudity, down at the space between genos's thighs. ] If you wanted me to.

[ all right, now he's just teasing. at least there aren't any fists ready to clash against his cybernetic body anymore. ]

[ now that's rare. genos can count the times he's heard such genuine laughter on one hand, and it's not helping matters in the slightest.

his cooling revs higher, swallowing visibly. ] I didn't plan for this. [ this, the empty space and open fly sonic is looking at. no plan existed to begin with, this was just...something... to spring onto sonic when the time felt right, when the situation had called for it.

they could debate this still came to pass here, but genos will deny it till the sun goes down.

self-consciousness doesn't suit him. yet there's nothing to be done for it, sneaking a quick glance at sonic (at where his eyes remain) before looking away again. ]

[ continues to seemingly observe what was just inside him a few minutes ago, even if literally nothing is showing any longer. ]

Oh? So it just suddenly appeared out of nowhere one day? [ honestly, sonic doesn't give a shit if it did or didn't. all that matters is that it served its purpose, maybe even helped boost the cyborg's confidence a little, if genos finds it necessary to even find pride in having a package (minus other equipment, of course). ] Spooky.

[ what? that's not what he's talking about at all, you stupid— ]

It's—! [ now the mood is ruined. sitting up straight in alarm, the cyborg opens his mouth, ready to deliver a verbal onslaught he's been saving for weeks, and...

...deflates, huffing in irritation. ] Forget it. [ sonic will laugh. it's not worth the trouble. ]

... [ unexpected outbursts call for unexpected responses. which is to say he'll let it go, not pester and bother genos like he typically does, pull out information he's not ready to offer just yet. ] Okay.

[ with his gaze averting to the side, sonic takes a second to think. eventually he looks down at himself again, frowning. ] I'm a mess. [ a statement not meant to be sexually charged. he is a mess, from his shredded clothes to his still-slick rear. ]

[ better. that's better. it's an unexpected kindness he didn't account for, which helps bring him back to center, relax the squaring of his shoulders. ]

... [ from an objective point of view, calling sonic a mess is an understatement. genos doesn't remember taking things so far, so lost in the heat washing over them he hadn't registered the battle damage they actually took, either. a lot of those rips and tears don't look like they had anything to do with drilling sonic raw, too high up on his body to count.

even so... ] You look good like this, too. [ it's less of a bold admission, but it does make him turn his head to face the other fully again, features pulled into an unreadable expression that borders on something fond. ]

[ i know— is what he wants to say. again, he holds his tongue, makes a face from being so... considerate? is that the word?

if he wasn't so sated and downright tired, sonic would fight against it, probably pick some kind of fight again. there isn't any of that left in him, not right now, relaxing back into the wall once genos turns to face him again. ] Is that so. [ it's a noncommittal response, not feeling up to being boisterous or inquisitive.

usually he'd take the compliment and run with it, try to get more out of it. it's strange that he isn't, but doesn't see the point of analyzing it any further than that. ]

[ strange. he expected more posturing, a conceited remark to be brushed off and clucked at, accept this is speed of sound sonic he's dealing with here and of course he's easy on the eyes, regardless of the position he's in.

genos can't tell if he's the one being shrugged aside, now; if this is somehow a cue to give the man some breathing room and let him recover.

there's only one way to find out. a hand wrenches away, gingerly touching a trio of fingertips to the side of his face (impeccably smooth, unlike genos's current state), feather-light, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. one hovers over the corner of the long line underneath his eye, never questioning whether it's war paint or something carried over from whatever clan he hails from. ]

[ no, geno's definitely not being tossed aside. if that were the case, surely sonic would go so far as to literally shove at him, bodily push his metal form away from his person. that's just in his nature, so used to doing what he wants without serious repercussions, not when he's so strong, so feared by many.

if he didn't know the boy better, sonic would be a little miffed that he isn't being more cautious. since that's not the case, his blood easily cools down from the minor fit, lids slipping shut once those fingers are touching him so softly. even that should ruffle this murderer's feathers, to be caressed so fondly.

what changed? is he really just that exhausted? possibly, though it wouldn't just be from the anger that buzzed between them, or the tireless fuck they're still settling down from. it's something more, something that prompts sonic to say, in a quiet voice: ] I'm tired.

[ it's been said before in so many different ways, tacked on with a variety of meanings. for now it shows on the surface, a little something more just underneath, an unspoken, hidden emotion he can't quite portray verbally. ]

[ the surface value is how it'll be interpreted. it is a feat unto itself that sonic can hold a conversation, let alone do much of anything at all, given the limits he's pushed his body to today.

genos isn't sorry for it, but it ignites a spark of consideration, of caring, inside of him. were he prone to more overt displays, he'd waste no time in scooping the guy up to smother him with needless affections, cart him away to a more restful place than the ruins they're currently relying on.

since he isn't, crowding sonic is the best he can manage to do, the tip of his nose brushing against his as his digits idly fall, not actually seeking out anything specific despite how it must look. ]

Can you stand? [ it's low, pretending to admire the fringe of hair tickling his brow instead of every contour of sonic's face, fearing it's a bit too much in the grand scheme of things. ]

No. [ an automatic response, because really, how could he even think about supporting his own weight by himself? if he'd been messing around with anyone else, sonic would stubbornly say yes, determination setting in at full force to help him move. genos, as usual, remains a mysterious exception.

for some reason he's not too keen on meeting the teen's gaze, glad that his ears are covered so that damn annoying heat that settles there won't show. embarrassment isn't very becoming of someone like him. ]

...okay. [ he doesn't interrogate him further, doesn't tease. for anyone else, genos might; for anyone else he wouldn't be caught dead in this situation, however. by this point he can't see himself be so open with anyone past sonic. the weight of that conclusion hasn't sunk in, probably won't for several more hours, maybe several days.

what he does do is shimmy out of the shirt hanging from him. this may seem peculiar until it's draped over sonic's lap, spare ends tied around his waist since there's so much room to spare. here is where he can't meet his gaze head-on any longer. hopefully he's still resting his eyes...

the taller teen remains where he is, squatted on the ground, regarding sonic in their long stretch of a pause. when nothing profound comes to mind, he frowns, fighting against the urge to touch him more for small reassurances. ] I will take you home. [ it's only fair. ]