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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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[ when he's staring at him so intensely, making loose demands slash eager suggestions, it's harder for sonic to feel all that brash confidence he'd been displaying. so he startles a little, hunching his shoulders up while his nose crinkles just the tiniest bit in... embarrassment, maybe? ]

I... [ closes his eyes as he pressing their foreheads together. sonic's no liar, too proud of a individual to be purposefully dishonest just for the sake of it, so why should he have to repeat it? you know why—didn't he do this exact same thing so many days ago? of course it would come back and bite him in the ass, though whether or not genos intends to mimic him or not is unknown, will continue to be unknown, since he doesn't feel that would play into the mood they're setting out for.

with another long inhale and a quick exhale, sonic peers into the golden glow of a pair of eyes staring very intensely at him. ] I like you. [ quirks a tiny, sheepish smile, depositing a sudden, short kiss to his lips. ]

[ making sonic uncomfortable wasn't what genos had in mind. he spends four point seven seconds wallowing in regret, wondering if he needs to backpedal on his words, insist that if he really doesn't want to, it's okay, he doesn't—

—oh. yes. there he goes. his stare softens, eyelids drooping as he swerves it elsewhere, looking off to one side bashfully. for the sake of sonic's pride he won't bully him into a third go at it, no matter how much his ears may burn to hear it. the two attempts are ample material nonetheless, ones he'll add to an internal collection to be replayed over and over when the nights are long and staring at sensei's broad shoulders contemplatively isn't enough to get him through the evening.

he's smiling, faint and private, parting his lips for a kiss that never deepens and ends far too soon. it's fine; his mirth isn't diminished, only growing steadily stronger the longer sonic holds onto him, gets a good look at his carefully crafted face. ] Good. [ the acknowledgement is tiny, quiet, though pleased all the same. who could have ever guessed this wasn't going to be a one-sided infatuation? genos had always assumed it would be the same here as it was for saitama, a flower destined to never fully bloom and stay tightly tucked away, lest it mucked up the natural order of things. he's obviously relieved to see this isn't the case. ]

[ circumstances will always be the biggest factor in sonic's ever-changing moods. one day he's fine pushing the limits and boundaries of his person, and then the next he's a big flustered mess of a ninja. even he can't tell which side of him will rear up and out in the open, though one could argue how that could be a game of sorts, to witness every side of sonic that even he's unaware of.

he'd like to be in more control of himself, of his emotions. maybe after some more time of getting used to a new facet of them, sonic will be completely at peace with himself, his slightly new way of living.

none of this is particularly bad, anyway, not when they're both so open and willing to reach stability in a companionship that's been a long time coming. so it's easier to brush it off, ride out the wave of shyness that's so unlike him, realigning himself in genos's hold before trying that kiss out again, then once more, and another time to follow, until he's lost count of every sweeping pass shared. ]

[ to genos this is nothing more than a classic case of needing to take a step backward for every two they've taken. he's recognizing the pattern they've unintentionally carved out for themselves, so he's willing to wait it out, let sonic sort through his sheepishness, lend a helping hand if need be. it isn't in his nature to rush, although he doesn't necessarily lend as many thorough thoughts to any given situation as he probably should. for being a man mostly made of metal parts, critical thinking is not always his strongest suit if he's not given enough preparation beforehand.

thankfully that's not the case today. relief is written in his features as sonic makes a move, grateful he doesn't have to either urge him out of his funk, or stutter helplessly to him till they've both settled down. this is a team effort, a back and forth affair, something that's fascinated him from the very first moment he realized it, somewhere in between sonic asking after why he'd turned into a cyborg to begin with and whenever he was one bowl's worth of udon away from overtaking him in an impromptu challenge. it was worth listening to his wailing all the way home, insisting he ingest something to help expel the oncoming gas, possibly a heating pad if the pain didn't subside within two hours.

come here he's murmuring before each sweep of their mouths becomes too fast, too sloppy for genos to deal with accordingly. they've made too much space separating them in their short recess, and it'd been so nice when sonic was practically straddling his lap, a positioning he's found he favors, though it's only one of several. greedy hands yank at him, fling his loose fluttering sweatshirt up and out of the way as well, no longer seeing the novelty in it when he has something else he'd rather lay his eyes on.

if the angle weren't so cumbersome, the stockings would be next, but those can wait while genos familiarizes himself with them again, roaming over his haunches in a firm caress to bring him back to where they began. the way sonic's cheeks nearly overflow from his splayed fingers will never cease to drive him wild, huffing a low moan of frustration past their conjoined lips. automatically he's moving them, lurching against his spread thighs firmer than he ever has. one of them, at least, hasn't lost sight of goals, no matter the pitfalls littered along the way. ]

[ sonic would be the first to admit how easily blinded he gets when genos turns the tables around on him, offers up words with more meaning and long glances that tie his stomach up in knots. it's a slow burn that's brought him to this state, now decided that it's fine, it's okay, he can live and let live because it's an affair with weight being shared between two people and not just one. it's a comfort in and of itself, one he's not entirely ready to express out in the open. like most things between them, time will be the biggest contender in sealing all the missing pieces together.

their coupling does the trick for now, endlessly blessed with the urgency genos runs high on, the restless, greedy hunger coiled tight and ready to burst. an impatience is there that hadn't truly shown itself before all of this, not even when he was face-down on the floorboards, ready to be given the world and beyond. his legs easily latch snugly back into position, ignoring the sting of cold air hitting him when his stolen shirt is whisked away to the side. reattaching his hands to accommodate the heft and shift is a fluid act, matching the return to his rear that has him moaning wantonly into a set of lips attached to his own.

more is all he'll say, yet another repeat offender in any number of words sonic would utter. this is typical of him, although it lacks any order to it, more of a suggestion than anything else. genos is more free now than he was weeks ago to be given the reigns, even if he'd done plenty of that before their interlude. is he allowed to feel some sense of pride for that? maybe, maybe not. who knows what goes on in his head if he's not talking a hundred miles a second, explaining anything and everything with as much gusto as ever. ]

[ repetition breeds familiarity. there's certainly a glimmer of potential confidence in genos that wasn't there before; it doesn't feel as daunting now to turn some of his idle daydreams into a reality he'd never thought possible. didn't these used to be jokes spread between them, stilted laughter and cheshire grins and something regarding propositions which weren't ever going to be delivered on. a preposterous notion, high-ranking heroes walking together, talking together, let alone... ]

...you're still wet in here. [ what shouldn't be anything resembling a profound discovery is, without question, a big find for genos when the thick pads of his fingertips probe deeply within. admittedly he's clouded by a passing, naive doubt of if this is already turning into a bore for sonic. they just did this, what, under thirty minutes ago, and here they are reenacting more or less the same thing? is variety not something they should be shooting for, or is sonic too far gone to care?

okay, so maybe his self-assurance could use some padding. he isn't so skittish that it occurs to him to want to stop and inquire of it, fret over not living up to the expectations he's slowly laid the groundwork for. in his mind's eye he can see how the outcome would go, knowing it isn't going to make a lick of difference on the long-term level. confidence is sexier, isn't it? to pretend he's fully aware of what he's doing, that this is precisely what sonic wants, has seemingly all but passed the torch onto genos the instant he hovered over any semblance of suggestion (and his ass, but never mind that).

he'll fake it if it comes to that, stamping down his hygienic concerns in the process to smear what's left of the lingering strawberry lube around a hole who's swallowed him with surprising ease. by this point he'd assumed enough time had passed to where sonic would've needed to be loosened up again, if only a little, proving just how willing of a participant he really wants to be. ]

[ if genos needs some encouragement, then sonic will be there to offer it up freely. but first: ] Ha— [ a sharp intake of breath reels him into the intrusion, hissing out not from any pain or discomfort, but the initial surprise of a set of fingers stretching him without preamble. even though the adjustment needed this time isn't as great, sonic still needs half a minute to distract himself from getting too worked up over such a small act, focusing on kneading at a back that won't shift and slide like human skin would. ]

Who's to blame for that? [ seeing as how they've parted for now, it gives him express permission to be on the move, mouthing along the curve of his jaw before pausing, huffing out a hot sigh against sensitive wiring he knows lurks underneath the surface. ] You always fuck me so good, don't you? I'm such a mess when you do it...

[ that's not an understatement and sonic knows it. he has no shame in loudly proclaiming his pleasure when the time calls for it, doesn't care about the needy, careless noises that so easily roll off his tongue. why should he, anyway? if genos is doing something right, then he might as well make a stand, tell his partner how good it really is. a coherent, verbal explanation is all right too when he's not lost in a haze and chanting obscenities, though those are few and far between the longer they go at it.

stringing together a series of intelligible words most likely won't last for very long, if the hero decides to peruse about down below, continue on from where they left off before. in the meantime, his redundant friend focuses his attention on the stripe welded into the fibers of his neck, running his tongue up the line of it in one swoop. ]

[ how much or how little sonic chooses to contribute with isn't vitally important. this is about feeling more than anything else, though a little encouragement here and there never hurts. genos, for his part, is struggling not to overtly react to any of it—not for any discernible reason, just the challenge of it, not wanting to immediately give his friend the satisfaction of turning him into a heaving and glitch-ridden mess.

but he wants to. he wants so sharply he's not even completely certain of what it is he's striving for, save for filling to the brim, follow through with what he'd unwittingly set out to do. only now is he starting to grasp the extent of the insatiability his friend wields. distantly he wonders who would have the harder time keeping up with who: the fast and deadly ninja, specially trained to endure a wide variety of hardships and strain, or the mechanical boy who can level city blocks in the blink of an eye, dragging himself home to his creator with just his titanium teeth dragging him along the sidewalk if need be?

not that this is a race. maybe they're the ones solely meant for one another, though genos doesn't see this as a prime moment to be pointing it out. grammar, on the other hand... ] Well. [ static bleeds into his voice, yet the tone remains as strong and foreboding. he hisses, the decision already made for him when he's scrambling for the forgotten, red-capped battle, seeking more aromatic slick to spread over sonic once he's flipped the cap open, squelched it between two fingers before shoving in shallowly. ] I fuck you well.

[ and it is a mess, one he pays no heed to when there are other items demanding his total and undivided attention, such as purposefully letting his curled fingers fall lax and loose to barely reach the edge of sonic's winking hole, swirl around, and push back in at a snail's pace, scraping along his walls. these are techniques he's still trying to refine, determine which of them are going to drive him as far up the wall as he's doing to genos now, huffing steam into the air and shifting about restlessly. he needs to be covering sonic, weighing him down again in some fashion, but he doesn't dare move when being caught like this is almost as good, a more than acceptable runner-up. ]

Edited 2016-03-04 07:43 (UTC)

[ he won't laugh outright, but sonic wants to, amusement overriding the usual irritation he'd have for being corrected. why argue when genos is piercing him so smoothly, dragging it all out in a teasing yet effective manner? ]

—well. [ it's said breathlessly, attempting in vain to rock backwards and impale himself further. playing along sounds easier, anyway, parroting the man to show that he's listening, he can be good and learn a thing or two as well. in the smallest bout of retribution, he'll nip harshly at synthetic skin he'd been chasing along, careful to not accidentally tear into it. ] You fuck me well, and you'd better continue doing it.

[ does he even need to say this? genos has always been so willing to stuff sonic to the hilt, fill him to the brim and seek out a pleasure that isn't entirely his own. this just solidifies so many things the ninja mentally listed off to go back and consider, fuzzy thoughts that grow lighter with every searching motion inside of him. he wants so much to just lay back, park his legs fully, put himself on display that it's almost tempting to shoo his friend away and adjust his body properly. in due time he'll be boneless, tired yet willing to be enveloped completely, just like he had been not too long ago.

being wrapped up like so is nice as well, enjoying the closeness it brings despite the rather awkward angle genos has to work with. sacrifices sometimes have to be made for the greater good—sonic won't complain, merely releasing a shaky exhale of air when no further words come to him. ]

[ if it's the game he wants to play, far be it from genos to argue. never mind that he's hardly in the position to, not when his peripheral interface shorts out for approximately two point ten seconds, swallowing the sounds sticking to his vocal chords faster than they can flee from him. sonic can probably feel it, the ebb and bob of unnatural tissues flexing underneath his canines. this is new, this is refreshing, and only the tiniest bit alarming, filing away the needless warnings poking their heads onto his display. he's fine, he isn't in any real danger here, as far he knows. he trusts sonic not to go too far, surprise him with something uncharacteristic when he hasn't been known to suddenly switch gears and lash out at him without a damned good reason to. a lighthearted correction surely isn't one of those, considering how he's more or less playing along.

so can genos. it isn't in his nature to argue about something like this, steadfast in dedicating himself to fulfilling sonic to the utmost. he doesn't bite back like a vicious, untrained dog, won't argue, won't complain. after losing the lightheaded feeling bestowed onto him, his eyes widen and shimmer, throwing himself into this errand with gusto. ] As you wish. [ he moves fluidly, very aware of the immediate contradiction of slipping out of sonic, but it's for a noble cause—he needs both hands to lift him out of his lap and back onto the floor, spreading their blanket out in a blur of motion to spare them both from any potential discomfort.

he'll have to wash it later, hopefully avoid having to explain the awkward truth to saitama, who likely knows more about what's happening than he cares to point out. or maybe not, his disciple can never tell for certain. it doesn't matter, fixated on the present rather than whatever may come their way in the near future. his priorities are to situate sonic on his right side, slide in behind him, and slide a pair of well-slicked fingers to return to where they should always be, though not without a light smack to one of his plump and tempting cheeks, watching it quiver, noting the tension which spreads through his thighs, the upward twitch of his cock. he won't comment on it, merely breaching him with a subdued, unreadable smile on his lips. ]

[ an easy smile smooths out his features when he hears those choice words, lashes lowered even as he's handled and moved with an ease only genos could accomplish. when did he start to enjoy hearing such a simple phrase? it held no meaning to him the first time it was uttered, tracing that back to an insignificant comment randomly chosen out of any words his companion could have said. now it's built up something comforting to him, warming places he'd never given a second thought to. sonic won't make any additions to this, leaving it at that even when he's turned and guided, hit in a manner that coaxes his bottom lip between a set of dull teeth, a high hum reverberating in the back of his throat once he's penetrated and seated up against.

like all the times they've stood face to face, their difference in size is pronounced nicely, giving sonic the option to twist himself about if he so wishes without making a mistake and bumping into all the hard spaces on genos's person. what he's yearning for is always the same connection—kissing this cybernetic boy is becoming a joyful activity he hadn't been anticipating, already liking the act for what it is on the surface. as usual, it's become different, makes his heart skip even if they've done it so many times before. here, too, does a loud thumping drum inside his chest when he curves his torso to accommodate the craning of his neck, reach up with a steady hand to caress the side of a nicely carved cheekbone, guide and lock their mouths together thereafter.

it's a less heated affair than what's going on down below, enjoying the helpless way his limbs sort of go lax yet taunt at the same time, not even bothered with not knowing which way to situate himself. sonic's talents lie more in the slow, languid slide of his tongue, poking out for half a second before he's back to the ritual of his initial task at hand. as usual his digits are flighty, laying flat at the first ridge of an exposed, metal spine, thumbing loosely between the finely crafted steel and alloy. ]

[ he's graceful; something genos can use to his advantage, crossing off one out of dozens concerns he has. any arrangement of theirs would suffice, he knows, but there's something about having such easy access to sonic from head to toe that compelled him to turn the mental image into a reality. overall the result is pleasing, enhanced by sonic's face drifting into view, his eyes sliding shut for the inevitable. there's a warm sigh and the soft, wet slip of his lips to greet him, slumping in relief after the connection is sealed.

this is an addiction through and through. he knows his organic brain is partly to blame for this, swimming in a sea of chemicals he's had no practical application for until recently. when paired with his natural exuberance it's a potent combination worthy of only the most unparalleled ninja. to oblige him is no trouble, as second nature as breathing and booting up his systems in, mouth parting for his intrusion, panting hot air raggedly after he's gone. giving chase isn't on the menu, locked into curling his fingers as deeply as they can go so that his palm lands squarely against his bouncing butt. the envy of what he could be putting in here arrives and fades in a flash, reminding himself that patience is a virtue, and sonic is the one who he's showering in pleasure with an undercurrent of affection softening it.

his arm winds underneath him, curls around his torso to grasp him loosely. he feels what he's doing, sagging further into his mercy as the edges of his thumb find new and interesting ways to melt him. amongst the seams in his armor, he glows faintly, not meaning to sear sonic yet also incapable of withholding what serves as, for all intents and purposes, a stand-in for a full-bodied flush of excitement. introducing a third finger is his reward, ready to ramp it up to four if he keeps being so good, though it'll have to stop there. seeing how wide he can spread him and how far his entire hand could be swallowed isn't on his to-do list for today. they'll need a lot of time and practice for that, something genos won't commit to at present. ]

Edited 2016-03-05 07:44 (UTC)

[ this is a pattern that's arguably easier to follow than anything else they've done together as a pair. it somehow remains bewildering and a tad jarring to be worked so smoothly when genos is still a beginner, gathering up all of his research and limited form of practical knowledge from firsthand experience to go off of that with an eagerness that's somehow charming in and of itself. perhaps this too is due to the rush of emotions he'd pushed away until recently, curious as to the science behind that for a brief, fleeting moment on his downtime. that's usually a touch-and-go thought, still on the edge of caution in a very unconscious way. it'll take more time for sonic to rewire his brain, relearn other facets of life that doesn't have to do with an endless string of battles.

not that this, their start of something greater than friendship, isn't a fight to be conquered in some shape or form. they've already dodged several bullets slung their way, yet there are still much distance to cross, discussions to be had that may or may not come to fruition in the near future. sonic doesn't think he'd have any real answers to give, anyway, no more wiser than he was a few weeks back. for the sake of... whatever it is they're cultivating, he'll move forward in his understanding, start off small and work his way up.

that's more or less what he's used to, it's a fundamental when it comes to training and physical strain. they're doing it right now, too, endlessly gladdened for the extra addition after he's been worked a bit more, releasing a deeply set moan peppered with equally saturated pants. more for leverage than anything does he curl nimble fingers about a prominent rod of alloy seared into the other man's back, though the rapidly beading of perspiration caking their forms makes it hard for him to grip, holding on strong as much as he's allowed to. it'll have to do for now, nuzzling his temple into the side of genos's face despite the sweat littering across it, making dark locks stick to his face to paint an even bigger picture of that mess he'd been crowing about earlier. ]

[ really, studying this has been no different from fighting. there are hundreds of websites flagged in genos's computer, thousands of search strings helping to illustrate certain subjects he never would've gotten to work through on his own. he possesses gigabytes upon gigabytes of media that would make even the most stalwart hero burn the deepest crimson from the inside out. all this so he's better able to supply sonic with a companion who can actually keep up with him, as opposed to a bumbling innocent boy who used to have no room in his heart for anything save vengeance. all those notebooks aren't just for show. every encounter—this one, especially—always provides something new to the table he can utilize, dissect and absorb for future use, thanks in part to a keen mind and his diligent note-taking.

but there are many things which can only be learned directly. genos feels as though he's only just now starting to get a good read on how the rigid body next to his operates, how best to serve it, when it needs to be punished and when it needs to be pampered. after a cloying round of the former, it might be time to put some of the latter into use, no matter how much it may give some of his true feelings away. he's done a lot of talking, anyway; now his actions can begin to back up, far from being one to not deliver on his promises. maintaining the tempo, his free hand sifts through hair that's started to flatten and stick, nestle sonic's head in more firmly, wick a sliver of the sweat from his brow when lukewarm padded fingertips dance their way on over.

millions of mechanisms croon to him as they press together, and genos too utters nonsense into his hairline, coherent snippets regarding sonic's beauty slipping through every once in a while between longing, restrained moans that taper down into quiet wisps of heavy, humid exhalations into the air. his other hand continues to probe, unfaltering in its steady rhythm to match the rise and fall of their chests, stopping at intervals to grind in sweetly, roll in a circle, emulate the firm eight inches the cyborg isn't working with today. ]

[ what a far cry from their last session this is turning out to be. a little smack on his rear once or twice never hurt or disturbed the mood that much, but they're definitely treading territory that's more reminiscent of their last intimate moments shared together in his room. sonic's even feeling a bit of that fuzzy haziness come back to him, swallowed whole once he's breathing in fumes that'll do no harm to his body, eyes lidded at half mast as his mouth parts in an endless sea of softer puffs of air.

sonic enjoys it, though, for what it is, likes genos and the things he does most of all. he likes the push and pull of his mechanical hands, whether they're skating across his face or fluidly entering and exiting his body. he likes the murmurs of adoration that sonic had once tripped over backwards to avoid, now relishing in it, accepting it for what it is. he likes the sensation of a slick, hard body stuck flat against his spine, likes the contrast in color when they're tangled up together like this.

he likes a lot of things, has come to embrace them with a heartfelt attraction he won't push aside for his own comfort any longer. instead of stepping backwards, sonic'll move along with it, press in more deeply to whatever crook he's able to shuffle his face into. if he's doing some nonsense, nearly-inaudible whispering of his own—sounds of approval, notions he's not entirely sure of, needier noises that has his face flushing from more than just exertion—then he won't be entirely aware of it, barely holding onto any semblance of coherency while he cants his hips inward, twitches when he's being hit in all the right areas. ]

[ the effect left on him is incredible. it's a shame genos would never stoop so low to make use of such underhanded tactics, or else he'd be of half a mind to consider employing some different...abilities to bring his foes down. sonic is definitely disarmed, at his mercy with no hope of escaping. not that he seems to want to. not that genos would let him if he tried, barring a scathing comment or a cry of distress.

thankfully the only cries here are the ones frying his circuits and obliterating his joints to mush. maintaining his facade is difficult in the face of sonic's wriggling, the needy noises whimpered into the thick cabling of his neck. his core pulsates in answer, forcefully engaging the override inside him to keep himself from incinerating the older man. his body temperature is climbing higher and higher—that'll have to attended to after they finish, preferably with a big bottle of water, chased by the most frigid shower he can conjure. will that be all right? surely sensei wouldn't notice a guest visiting their bathroom, so long as he's cleaning up afterward...

ah, there he goes, getting ahead of himself. his gaze is glassy, focused on nothing as he stares past sonic, lost in the hypothetical and what has yet to be. he almost misses the tail ends of sonic's blathering, cheeks lighting up at some of the implications he's weaving. he doesn't dare let them resonate in his head, let alone respond, choosing to be just a little naughty and pull out right to the edge, lingering for longer than he needs to before his strokes resume. ] I like you like this.... [ genos likes him in almost any way imaginable, but that's beside the point. ] Let me hear you. [ every octave he drops to has the boy wanting to do some twitching of his own, the heat spreading to the ends of his ears, stained in color only a genius could replicate in an artificial housing.

[ how does one or two simple comments drive him over the edge so easily? lost that he is in everything that's being dished out, sonic's none the wiser to this strange anomaly, even when every muscle in his body clenches in a vice grip, begging for his release that comes in the form of a fainter, quieter noise of relief. it's subdued in the face of the softest fibers he's pressed his mouth against, brows furrowed at the strange concept of unintentionally palming at himself from the front with his free hand, just a roll and a press of a surprisingly soft heel against the length of his flushed cock that equally matches the state of the brilliantly rose-colored skin stretched across his cheeks.

the immediate post-orgasm high doesn't hit him like a freight train like it did before, overridden by the waves of heat pulsating at his back, feeling calm in the sensory overload washing over him—an over-stimulation like this isn't unwelcome when his body is on such high alert, honing in on the fingers still wedged within him, a faint stinging sensation running down his spine from his friend's rising temperature, the ragged breaths being sighed out in an exertion that has nothing to do with a physical tiredness. if he's begun to smile then he doesn't realize it, eyes shutting peacefully before he's carefully nuzzling into a strong jawline, inhaling a scent that's unlike his own. ]

[ it's so sudden, the way sonic comes undone without any hint of a warning at all. genos was monitoring it, too, ready to have his second hand on standby for when the chance arose to ensnare him, tease him, let him roll through his intricately-textured fist to seek his relief in whatever manner he felt privy to do. from the looks of things, he must have felt too much, too soon, to be already there and gone. disappointment would be an applicable emotion here if he felt it, but genos simply watches in quietly contained awe, intrigued at how a straightforward string of words brought forth this magnificent result.

sight over sound wasn't what he was shooting for. he'll take it, though.

he etches every detail here into the far recesses of his mind, yielding to the visual warnings when his cooling kicks in at full blast. any higher and sonic's skin would start to sear, definitely not how he'd want this evening to end. he'll have to wait a moment for his plating to cool so that he can plaster himself to him anew, digits nosily slurping out of sonic to give him some reprieve. it unhygienically contracts how they immediately nudge past sonic's, grazing against his spent cock, creating a light tunnel as they weave and milk any last remnants out of him. he didn't catch where the mess went, deciding in a heartbeat to not pay it any mind, address it in the near future when the whole floor's going to be cleaned, anyway. it's doubtful that it ended up anywhere vital.

besides, he's seeing everything (everyone) he needs to at the moment. his other hand trails down with no particular destination in mind, petting him, gentling the man in his arms down, splaying over his quivering belly, the dips of tightly-wound muscle. the breath he huffs out is shaky, stirring sonic's bangs, leg bending and wedging to part both of his in the futile effort to eliminate as much space between them as possible. this, he knows, is a repeat performance from earlier, holding no less urgency than it had the first time. decorum insists he be soft, respect sonic's physical limitations as opposed to pushing them in a major way. what he's currently up to should suffice. ]

[ genos can do as he wishes. now is the time when sonic realizes that he's really due for a long rest, having pushed himself a little more than he'd initially planned. a supersonic human has their limits, too, especially if he isn't on the clock with people to see and lives to end. thus he's left in a pile of a mess on the floor, sated but spent enough to be more or less dead weight for his companion to shift about however he so chooses, simply curling in all the more once they're pressed more firmly together.

this will take a while, sonic's too far gone to properly recognize the full extent of what's just happened. it almost feels as if he's drifted off, lips parted slightly with heavy lids serenely shut, his breathing evening out into a peaceful lull. the only signs of life he'll show is his wrist going slack, gingerly nudging a metal hand away from bits and pieces that are starting to throb in a less attractive way, edging long, thin fingers through the crevices he finds there instead. he also pays no mind to the tacky stickiness he finds coated on the other man's digits, more unconcerned than unaware of its presence, as it, too, can be dealt with in another few minutes or so.

dragging himself back to reality is such a chore. and yet... ] ... I need naps. [ his face is still crammed right where it's been, snuffling down to rest his forehead against the warm spot instead. ] Like, maybe twenty of them...

[ ah, is his voice slurring? sonic thinks it is, can't entirely tell or bring himself to mind all that much when they're resting together so nicely. ]

[ ah. he had every intent to let go of sonic eventually, give him some room to resituate himself, clean up, even head to the bathroom if he must, yet here he lies in a boneless heap. genos considers moving them, or at least sitting themselves upright, but with sonic hanging on as he is he fears it's going to be next to impossible. ]

I agree. [ more for sonic's interests than his own. with the reserves of energy genos holds, he could keep going well into the next morning--even he, however, is not that greedy, and he's too fond of sonic to want to put him through that. not without a long and thoughtful discussion of where his boundaries are, how far he can be pushed till he shuts down completely. ] As much as I would love to do this ten times more, in your current condition it will take an estimated twenty-six to one hundred and four minutes for you to minimally recover.

[ although he says this so plainly, he's smiling too, coiling one arm firmly around sonic's frame, still holding fast with his hand, strawberry scented stickiness and all. he's making up for missed moments when sonic collapsed onto the floor, when he couldn't reach for him, wind around him like this, pressing harmless kisses into the crown of his head. his fans continue to churn, cool air blasting from his open vents, bringing them both back to a steady level. ]

Really. [ that's definitely more of a statement than initially intended. sonic’s listening, though, taking in the seemingly pointless observation with a hint of humor tickling him. ] I'm going to take that as a challenge.

[ there's absolutely no intention to honestly follow through with it, but the widespread grin he flashes in what's falsely shown as renewed interest might say otherwise, twisting and wiggling until he can properly plant a overzealous kiss smack-dab onto genos’s lips. ]

[ genos won't follow through with it either. he knows what false bravado and when to see past it. although he'll accept the too-messy kiss, he does nothing to reciprocate, instead staring back at sonic, the spun gold of his eyelashes lowering slightly. maybe he can take this in another direction... ]

Three hours would be preferable, true. [ is he challenging him...to sleep?

judged by his faint grin, he isn't taking it too seriously. a careful grip tries to turn sonic around so he doesn't have to twist and turn so much to face him. chances are he's been feeling enough strain as it is. perhaps he's due for a light massage, another addition for the night's potential to-do. ]

[ any amount of strain is par for the course, but it helps to have an accommodating partner in crime. with no effort at all he's resituated to face genos, the cyborg's bicep an unfortunate victim of his head's current resting post as he cackles lowly in amusement. ] You know I won't stop at three. [ cat naps might be his specialty, but by no means does it guarantee that he won't knock out for far longer after such a full day. ]

[ he really won't, will he? if left to his own devices, sonic will certainly sleep the evening away. by now the sun's completed its decent below the horizon, and z-city is bathed in darkness once more. ]

...you should at least wash up before bed. [ if saitama were here, he'd insist. whether or not genos plans on passing his personal bedding to him is irrelevant—there'd be no avoiding the explanation of who used their sheets and why. better if he isn't covered in dried spunk and other questionable substances before then.

plus, be it to herd him just to the shower or to draw him a full bath, it'd mean spending at least a little more time around him till they lose touch. ]

[ as much as sonic would love to argue, he is starting to feel gross already… why couldn't he just magically be able to will himself clean? this is just another chore he loathes after the fact, if only because he's too lazy to put any real effort into washing up at the moment. still, his friend here has a good point, sighing out as if it's the biggest hindrance of them all. ] Fine. [ wrinkles his nose up at the other man for the trouble, making to sit upright in spite of his bones feeling as if they're made of jelly.

sonic takes a pause to blearily observe their surroundings, finding this a touch odd, perhaps, which initially doesn't make any sense. they've lazed around indoors plenty of times, though this is the first time anything has really happened inside his enemy’s apartment, outside of the normal hangouts. this doesn't disturb him as much as it should. it shouldn't, right? this is genos’s home, too, after all, not just that egghead saitama’s, so it shouldn't matter. it doesn't.

shaking his head to rid himself of any lingering awkwardness, sonic looks down at himself, then over at genos again. ] Carry me. [ he's demanded this before, he knows, and while he doesn't need the help in the slightest this time around (nor is it a long threshold to cross), sonic still finds some novelty in the act. besides, his friend is always so eager to help, to please. why not continue offering it to him? ]