genos. (
sadtoaster) wrote in
destinytown2015-12-22 12:30 am
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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! ]
...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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or is it the other way around, with genos built to specifically support him and him alone? as if he couldn't get any closer than he already is, he does the unthinkable, his smooth seamless crotch pressing flush to wherever it has a mind to go, humping in tandem with every dip of his fingers. although it helps to dull the edge of his appetite, it can never erase the bottomless pit inside of him threatening to grow larger and larger. struggling for breath, he whines into the fringe of hair blanketing the column of a neck stretched out before him, fighting off the overwhelming urge to sink his teeth in and never let go.
it's never been like this. there's no rhyme or reason to why his control is shredding piece by piece. what happened to laying sonic down softly just so he could do as he's asked? maybe it's stockings, he'll blame those... ]
Ah— [ there's so much overloading him right now. he licks his lips, forcing himself to narrow it down like he's often taught to do to ground himself. ten items or less... the world dissolves into the skin that sticks to titanium alloy, sonic's lungs heaving for air, the voice he's half-muffling into his forearm, a muted undertone of jasmine flowers tickling his nostrils and the dual sensations of stroking him both without and within. he puts priority into focusing on the former, on every rolling flow of him through his hand. ] I've made you so wet— [ truly, it's no wonder doctor kuseno installed the same feature into him if someone else is equally capable of such a feat.
if only he could get a taste...but that requires more moving and disentangling on his part than he's willing to execute for the time being. he'll have to settle for his restless fantasies and the personal promise that someday, eventually, the chance to will come. the nape of sonic's neck is an ample substitute, anyway, giving in to the senseless, animalistic compulsion to bite at him, hold on fast as he arches up. ]
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tension is one thing they can both cycle through, doing so now even in the thick haze of bliss sonic doesn't bother pushing his way through. letting it all come to him is a dizzying sensation, still unused to all of this attention and giving being brought the table, not when he's lacking his usual boisterous demands. it sheds a light on how the pointless fucking they're doing is anything but; that must be the reasons why he's ceased in spitting out ruthless comment after comment, a bossy sort of mouth-running he's accustomed to regardless of the position he's tangled up in. it's different with genos, he's mused over this countless times before, though he's not quite comfortable enough with spilling those secrets so easily just yet.
isn't it better to hear him card through mindless huffs of inarticulate babble instead? nothing of importance is being dragged out from within him, anyway... except for the stab of steel drawing back and forth at an increased speed, a tasteful addition that just aids him in climbing higher and higher up the peak he's been guided towards thus far. that won't do, it's not quite enough to drive him over the edge—and then genos has to go and latch onto him in such a primal manner, the naturally lowered pitch of his voice hiking a surprising two octaves higher when he shouts out a startled yelp.
it's successful in giving him that last push. the sting and throb rolls in as invading aftershocks the second after he's bitten, hissing and whining through the blossom of pain that shoots through the entirety of him as fast as his orgasm does. sonic's hit so fast that it makes him lightheaded, a comfortable buzz mixed wonderfully with the repetitive motions that keeps him from swaying away too quickly in the foggy confides of his mind. ]
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what a mess. he's managed to catch the majority of it before it could spill all over sonic and onto the floor, but it begs the question: what does he do with it from here? reluctantly pull away to find the nearest trashcan or box of tixxues? no—that would mean having to peel away, a fate worse than being dismembered by the ugliest, nastiest enemy his imagination can conjure. a long look down at sonic and the hidden area he's clutching at has him sighing, reluctantly wringing his arm away to...bring his hand up to his own mouth, give it a cursory lick. it's about what he expects from the last time, and though it won't be a thorough cleaning by any stretch of the imagination, it's better than making a further contribution to their already ruinous state. besides, it's one more way to know him. he's tasted worse things.
did sonic catch that? hopefully not. genos would hate to drag him out of the moment and back into reality, where things aren't as dull and muddled, soft and hazy, not unlike the tip of genos's tongue abruptly chasing a trickle of sweat down the side of the other man's neck after his preoccupation's been seen to. he dawdles there for a while longer, face shoving inward with a noisy breath. it'd figure that sonic is the one who climaxes, yet here genos is acting as though he's gotten caught under the post-coital haze himself, boneless and heavy, snuffling through the ebony sheet of his hair like he doesn't have a care in the world.
by and large, he really doesn't, short of maintaining his weight to keep from shoving sonic completely prone to the floor. he's still buried inside of him, after all, gingerly making an exit to wipe his fingers off on something more trivial, like a forgotten stack of takeout napkins no one's going to notice. whatever, it's fine. it'll be dealt with accordingly when the time arises, when huddling as close to sonic as humanly possible suddenly loses all its appeal. if that can even happen. ]
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a content sigh follows his heaving for air, fanning out into something more subtle and soft while he comes down from his high. the atmosphere around them is still heavily drenched in a thick sheet of air, though it disperses little by little as the seconds pass them by, mirroring the slow crawl he makes of finally lowering himself to the floor fully. his friend could have supported what little weight he'd burdened him with for ages, this much is true, but with the tension now lifted from his limbs, sonic would much rather be at a complete state of rest without steel digging into meaty flesh. many bruises litter his body as it is, tiny pangs that serve to remind him of the rigorous coupling they'd somehow slipped into.
with that in mind, sonic raises two fingers to brush against the livid splotch at the corner of his neck. okay, so maybe it was only genos who went out of his way to be so... animated and beast-like. at some point he'll have to praise him for it, but for now it brings a tiny, tired grin to his features, relaxing the hand on top of the flattened pillow next to his head. ]
... hm. [ he'll need another second or two to get his wits about him, eyes peacefully shut. rousing himself takes some time, but eventually he shifts to rest halfway on his side, tucking an arm snugly between the crease where a jawline ends to support his head. ] Told you I missed them.
[ there's no question as to what he's speaking of, yet he'll still stretch towards the other man with his unoccupied hand, gingerly dust digits along the first set of knuckles within his reach. normally he wouldn't attempt prolonged contact like this, remaining a bit flighty in response to tender gestures. thankfully sonic's in the right mood to initiate it, still drugged from the intense climax, the comfortable warmth of the room, and the knowledge that all of this combined is due to the cyborg hovering above him sticking to the forefront of his thoughts. ]
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when he parts, so too does genos's confidence. is this the part where he fetches him something? a bottle of water, maybe one of those wrapped fried buns as a pick-me-up? or...
or he could hover, slide down to lay parallel to him, dangling on the precipice of wanting to invade his space but not quite knowing if that's okay or not, if he's needing a moment to himself to recover. although it doesn't match with past behavior, this is only the fourth full experience they've shared here, which is hardly enough time to establish any sort of a record to rely upon. there isn't enough data to support it. arguably this is only the first since they've started coming to terms with figuring out who and what they are, so it just complicates matters all the more. he could always ask, seeing as how crowding him unceremoniously would probably get him kicked in the teeth outright. ]
...— [ he could do that. he could also let his hand be grazed, flex it underneath his touch and shuffle a little closer until they're sharing body heat again. he wants to do so much more, smother him, reach between his legs and coax him for a second, third, and fourth round while the moon sets. instead he blinks placidly, drowning out the news anchor who's been droning behind them this entire time. funny how it's taken so long to trickle back into his ears when he was distracted by more pressing matters. ] I never doubted it.
[ but are they really so skilled? he won't deny he's done some studying in his downtime to master his technique. practice makes perfect, however, and the road to total mastery is a long one. sensei said something like that once, though he was probably just parroting an old movie full of nonsense. ]
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... ? [ cracks his eyes half-mast once the shift is made, silently staring up at his new floor buddy. if he knew all of the worries running through genos's mind, he'd be more than happy to flick his nose, pinch his cheeks in a repeat performance of all the other times he's accomplished such a feat. as usual he's none the wiser, finding nothing wrong with the shared space, nor the way the small distance between them is closed further. it's amusing, a little endearing, and easily makes way for his hand to flip over and offer a slightly curled palm for the cyborg to do with as he pleases. ] Don't you ever.
[ to top this all off, he'll crane his neck with no hesitation, plant the softest of kisses at the corner of his friend's lips. ]
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everything is so new to genos. just when he thinks he's gotten some of it figured out, he's turned upside down and inside out all over again. it's different from learning how to fight, from learning how to train your mind so your mechanical body can follow suit and become stronger, or at least more competent in your capabilities. different, but no less harrowing. there's definitive proof at how far they've come when he's not being made fun of every single step of the way, though he's sure to hear some ribbing before the day is through, knowing them. he can take it, no problem.
he can take sonic's hand, too, though it doesn't progress past a feather-light touch in mild, curious examination. the difference in their sizes, while not pronounced, is still significant enough to cause him to contemplate it for a beat before moving on to the rest of sonic. it hadn't dawned on him until now just how rough with him he may have been, finally noticing the new line of bruises and marks that litter him so. did he really do so much, go so far? at the time it seemed like they'd barely done anything, with one another, to one another. ]
...I may have overdone it. A little. [ regret isn't the right way to describe what colors his tone, because he doesn't, not really. there's no shame in what he's doing, not if sonic enjoys it, is the one who brought it upon himself by playing along with such an energetic and potentially-forceful partner. inexperience aside, there ate telltale clues strewn here and there to give a fair indicator of what his secret personality may be like, a more private hue than what the general public's come to expect of their so-called demon cyborg. ]
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i might like you. is that all there is to it? a lot more pondering needs to go into his daily routine, though he'll never admit that this is on his mind more often than not, especially when they converse back and forth on a daily basis. perhaps they can come to some kind of answer together, genos is really good at making sense of everything sonic's never considered... ]
Hm? [ comes back from the brief daze he'd gotten lost in, eyes now wide and attentive as they draw upward to the other man's face. ] I like it.
[ sure, he'll later send obnoxious texts complaining about the damage, how irritating it is to cover it up, but sonic they'll be harsh jokes at best. they'd already established at some point in time how he doesn't particularly mind it, neither the sting or the markings, not when he's covered almost head to foot in scars to begin with. a couple dashes of bruises won't do him any harm. ]
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but there are thousands of things he still doesn't know about sonic. everyone has their secrets, sure, but barring his obvious hobbies, the guy is a total enigma. it's a start contrast between his sensei, the other obvious figurehead in his life, who's practically an open book by this point. his family life is about the only thing he never brings up, perhaps rightfully so, if the company he keeps is any indicator.
now doesn't seem like the right moment to break that trend. a visual memorization will serve genos's purposes just fine, machinery humming in his unintended crude equivalent of a feline purr. ] I will make a note. [ it's hardly how he set out to originally treat sonic, having specific goals in mind, a certain...rose-tinted method of approaching someone he's grown to enjoy the company of, but they'd been apart for so long, and something unspeakable of inside him grew restless and unrelenting, somehow. probably the leftovers of teenaged lust he'd never quite become properly acquainted with. or maybe it's the side effects of coping with a missing attachment he'd only just started to get accustomed to. ]
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as for his own curiosity... well, he's already gotten all the answers he needed, ranging from the mundane—does he have a sense of taste, what he does in his spare time, how his body ticks and operates—to the more complicated—how he feels about him, the confession still stuck somewhere at the forefront of his thoughts; where he came from and how exactly he became the demon cyborg was never given a second thought. sonic may be many things, but he's definitely no hypocrite. they can share everything and more in due time, or leave it to rest for all of eternity.
for now he'll focus on the simpler things. a softer smirk graces his features, idly squirming his fingers still attached to genos's hand. ] In one of your notebooks? [ this is a thing to pique his curiosity, gaze wandering over to a stack in the corner of the room he caught in his peripheral vision earlier. ] I wanna see them.
[ at least the first few, anyway. he's still blind to whatever nonsense genos scribbled down on their first encounter. ]
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...you'll laugh. They won't be of interest of you. [ full of charts, diagrams, lists, nothing that could hold sonic's already minuscule attention span for more than a minute or two. then he'll hoard his not-so-secrets to use against genos later on when he's least expecting.
or maybe...there's the off chance he won't think anything of it beyond mild flattery that the cyborg truly does wishes to commit even the most mundane details of his person to his vast memory. it's exhaustive, to say the least, the kind of notes he's always taking. he figures they're going to get him somewhere in the long run, better to know too much than too little when it comes to any given topic.
either way, he hasn't explicitly said no. that could easily be due to watching sonic's fingers, his face, tilting inward to share a wisp of his breath and little else. it's not worth cutting off the conversation just yet. ]
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it's not terribly important. and yet... ] I might laugh. [ at least he's honest, shuffling a half an inch closer and upward so they're more face to face, getting up in his personal space by pushing their noses together lightly. ] But I'm definitely interested.
[ why wouldn't he be, anyway? it's about him, after all, and even if his attitude and personality's changed by tiny leaps, he's still arrogant in his own way. contrary to popular believe, however, this has to do with genos, not his narcissism, wanting to just see what goes on in that mind of his when he looks or speaks to sonic. ]
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[ he will, at least, move to stand up fully, on the pretense of shuffling to the kitchen sink for some long-belated cool, camp cloths. he bites down on the urge to grab some cleaning supplies along the way, knowing that any potential stains in the floorboards aren't going to get any worse if they continue to be ignored for the next hour or possibly longer.
with marginally cleaner hands and the minimal supplies for sonic as well, he's back in the blink of an eye to hand them and what's likely the most worn and weary notebook on the corner table over to him. he won't bother to grace him while the investigation commences, choosing instead to tidy up the area they'll be inhabiting for the remainder of the evening. this is typical of genos, though he's never done it in the long term when any visit here tended not to last more than a quarter of the day at the most. there's no telling when saitama would barge in, after all. ]
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... eh. it'll do. genos can scrub away all he wants when sonic's gone, having a feeling he'd like nothing more than to dust and polish the area they'd been inhabiting. when said cyborg comes close enough, he'll pass the dirtied cloth to him, briefly watch with a sharp gaze as he goes about his business some more. ]
... ! [ the clothes that were removed prior to their fun has the wheels turning in his head, one item in particular that's precariously hanging off the television. before genos can take it away, whether he planned on dressing himself or set the thing aside, sonic'll snatch the cyborg's hoodie with a mischievous cackle that closely resembles the loud nyahaha noises he'd made earlier. with it now in his clutches, he takes no time in sliding it over his form. pleased over the larger size that gives him enough room to slide the hem of the material snugly under his rear, sonic tucks his legs close to his chest and opens the flimsy book he'd ignored up until now. ]
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—... [ of course. why reach for a scrap of his outfit when he can use someone else's? this shouldn't be as attractive as it is, yet he can't help but stop and stare for a moment with a spare blanket slung over his shoulder. maybe it's something about the blood-red material dwarfing sonic compared to when he's wearing it, or the fact his legs have been left bare...regardless, it takes much longer than it should for him to snap out of it and crouch over him to see what sonic sees.
at least this isn't where any of juicy contents are. this is back during the time when sonic had evolved into something of a weekly pest here in his and sensei's apartment. he was trying to figure out who the ninja really was underneath the surface, what drove him to come to call time and time again...and if there's some personal speculation over his favorite pizza toppings to boot, well, that's par for the course. ]
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Stupid... [ that's not directed towards the blond-headed man looming in back, not right this second, but a past him who thought it was necessary to keep and tape the scrap of paper he'd used months ago to remind himself that sonic doesn't like milk. another second passes by before that sinks in, his face suddenly unreadable, less animated than he'd been a moment ago. there's something hot starting to burn at the center of his chest, guiding the heat upward to dust at his ears and back of his neck. why's he getting so flustered all of a sudden?
no, no, he doesn't need to dwell on the reasons, needs to stay in the here and now to soak everything up. a fleeting glance is tossed over his shoulder, reaching to tug genos down, have him take a seat where he'd been crouching. this makes it easier for sonic to use him as a backrest, settling into a comfortable slump after he's flipped to a new section. ]
You must've taken a lot of good notes in school. [ an idle observation, choosing to speak it out loud for the sake of casual conversation, if his friend wanted that at all to begin with. it doesn't matter in the long run, sonic's got plenty to do already, after all. ]
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...yes. [ admitting obvious truths are as easy as breathing. no one really notices this from genos—save saitama, naturally, who tends to notice more than people give him credit for. ] My grades were perfect. [ something he used to take a fair amount of pride in until it all became irrelevant to him.
since that isn't worth unearthing from the grave it's been buried in for years, the blanket becomes the star of the scene, spreading it over sonic's legs now that he doesn't have to worry about using it as a buffer for his own metal frame. thus far it's one of the few drawbacks he's come to discover when they're together like this. if sonic delves a little deeper, he may even find a blurb on that as well, accompanied with theories on how that can be best offset, save for the modifications doctor kuseno was always more than willing to make so his ward could be more...lifelike in design. ]
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it's all water under the bridge, anyway... unlike a line that reads every variation of annoying pest, using the back of his hand to smack at whenever it happens to land on when he hoists it backwards. ] You're lucky I still like you. [ more jokes despite the glowering down at the words, quickly leafing to a diagram instead— ]
... ? [ are those stats on his feet? oh, now it's of his hands... ] What the heck? I don't even know half of this stuff about myself.
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he'll largely ignore most of the rest, too lulled by sonic's presence to really care. their flames may have waned in the short stretch of time it's taken for them to get rearranged, find a new distraction sonic won't let go of, but the embers are still smoldering. it feels liberating to sit like this and not have to wonder about where to put his hands, the limbs of his body, or feel stifled by what he used to treat as such an...obtrusive obligation, to entertain purely for politeness's sake.
lucky, sonic says. he isn't wrong. genos won't address that part, though. ]
The information was vital at the time. [ ah, should he elaborate, he may as well... ] In case matters turned sour. [ because how often do heroes and self-described villains get along cordially, let alone coexist for more than five minutes without wanting to be at each other's throats? ]
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in an uncharacteristic bout of bashfulness, the ninja hunches his shoulders up in an attempt to shield himself. not that he really needs to, genos isn't even able to directly look at him, much less gaze at him fully, but he'll take the urge for what it is, going so far as to flip the hood of his attire up and over his head. ] That's dumb. [ very articulate. maybe there's something to be said about focusing on academics after all. ] You should've just written about my perfect ass instead.
[ no doubt he has in some number of volumes following the one held in his hands. alas, those he won't get to this evening, already feeling a tad overwhelmed despite being the one who made this request in the first place. sonic will still see it to the end, not one to leave anything half-finished irregardless of his comfort levels. ]
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The fourth book. Nine pages, not including diagrams. [ and now that genos has some recent additions to make, there's a good chance he'll be including several more pages on top of it. thirteen is his current estimate, perhaps more, depending on where the rest of the year winds up taking them.
has sonic seen too much yet? based off of his body language, hiding behind a hood which won't conceal him in the slightest, it looks as though he has. reading the atmosphere is tricky; he doesn't appear to have taken major offense, not exactly. without being able to put a finger on the intricacies of it, there's nothing genos can do save for watching in relative silence, chin digging into one of those scrunched shoulders far harder than he ought to. it's an ongoing learning process to determine when and when not to be delicate around sonic, often misjudging his own strength. ]
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... but the animated chuckles aren't ceasing, so caught up in how much it tickles him. prying his hands away from the notebook and letting it fall to his lap, sonic stifles his snorting into his palms, jostling the other man while his shoulders refuse to cease in their shaking. ]
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See? You're laughing. [ he knew this would happen, though he didn't think it'd be over this... ]
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I t-told you I might— [ fondly pats his cheek before curling fingers at the base of his neck. ] Haha...
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This is going away. [ and so will the others at this rate... ]
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