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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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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? ]

[ this stopped striking genos oddly a few minutes after he'd shut the front door. after all, it's not like sonic hasn't set foot in here countless times, and it's not as if he hasn't nodded off, either, propped up in the corner by some of the old bedding they're making use of now while genos putters the time away online. there are rare occasions where he's even struck up a conversation by his passerby sensei, waving off the usual questions with a dismissive don't worry, he's not here to fight you, and leaving it at that.

for some reason, lost to it during sonic's once-over of his person, it dawns on him just how long they've done this: knowing each other in general, coming to call on one another for actual fellowship as opposed to being out of options on how to spend their time, curious enough to verbally poke and prod (sometimes literally, too) but never seeing it any further than that. the when, where, and why of it evolving still eludes genos. maybe it's for the best he can't pinpoint it. maybe it doesn't matter, so long as they're where they are now.

but wait, sonic's saying something. it's registered after an internal delay, suffering from a wave of what the demon cyborg will only later come to know as lovesickness. he remained prone on the floor while sonic rose, coming to life as soon as his demand is processed. ] Yes. [ carry him? that far surpasses his original intentions, quick to clamber to his feet and hoist sonic up into his arms like he's picking a coin up off the ground. he brims with so much vigor that he nearly jostles him a tad too hard, squeezes him close a touch too strong, losing sight of all the strength hundreds of kilograms of steel can contain. ]

[ sonic knows what to expect by now when he's whisked up and away, so used to all of genos's grandeur, even from only just a few scant moments when the other man's held him in his arms like this. although he's not quite ready to admit it out loud just yet, it's a nice sensation he hadn't experienced up until this point, other than being hoisted on an adult's back when he was younger and unable to cross long distances without stumbling and falling. maybe it has to do with a protection he doesn't need, yet having it offered freely in an act of more than just kindness solidifies all of the nice warmth he's come to accept as a part of him, one who looks upon genos and sees more than just a hero, a friend, a distraction from a life of crime.

the tiniest smile on his face remains even when he's pushed almost uncomfortably into a metal chest, gazing thoughtfully at the cyborg in silence. this pause doesn't last very long, only up until they've reached the bathroom in question (which was what, eight steps away at most?) because it's there and doesn't need to be forced up and out of him, so he needs to say it, not even for only genos's sake: ] Hey. [ another stop is inevitable, tilting his head to rest it on the crook between a hard neck and shoulder. ] I like you.

[ it doesn't set as much color on his cheeks than he initially thought it would, burning only slightly more from pleasure than any embarrassment. ]

[ if anyone's in need of protection here, it's genos. in the fifteen days that have passed, there's been a solitary thought he hasn't managed to shake off, try as he might: pending they were both in their right minds and peak physical condition, which of them would actually win in a fair fight? he can't say for certain if he'd manage to leave with all his limbs attached, let alone still be online. speed of sound sonic, hilarious though his name may be, holds great potential for being far bigger of a threat than he outwardly presents himself to be. genos is sure of this, after seeing some of that power and prowess firsthand.

powerful, but fragile. a glass cannon. he's seen this as well, the images burnt both into his mind's eye and the deepest reaches of internal files he can't bring himself to get rid of, no matter how much he may want to or what little use he has for them overall. looking down at him, this person verbalizing his affections unprompted, he purposefully avoids making direct contact with the angry-looking scar running down his side. whether or not it's one of several is of no concern to him. the fact he's human, the fact he could lose him at any time, is what inspires the ire to grind his gears in apprehension and concern. in short, eight steps or not, of course he'll carry him, shield him, let a bullet or two glance off of his metal shell the next time they're out in public and a foolhardy target thinks to carve a name for himself by taking the head of the world's fastest ninja.

but back to sonic, sonic who likes him, isn't delivering this in a begrudging reply or behind the electronic barrier of long-distance correspondence. genos's mouth opens in a faint grin, so tickled he doesn't register the proud current of electricity sizzling straight to his core. nothing noticeable to the naked eye, certainly not even to someone clutched as closely as sonic is. he'd have to pry away the outer layer of his torso to see and feel the effect a few simple words can have. rest assured, it's grandiose. ]

Really? [ he's neither trying to mock him or prompt him for more. it is, however, a first, one he plans to jot down alongside the corresponding date, day of the week, and time of day just to ensure everything is transcribed with the utmost accuracy. unbelievable. maybe it's the two orgasms back to back which made him so agreeable, or maybe it's genos's eager readiness. or maybe it's something which isn't prone to explanation or description, existing because it does and nothing more. regardless, it'll be mulled over for days afterward, accompanied with fresh waves of steam billowing from his vents and probably some casual remark from sensei comparing him to a locomotive. that's fine, he's heard worse things. ]

[ deaf to whatever internal monologue genos is spouting, sonic simply nods in response, gaze roaming up to connect with a golden set of eyes. ] Really. [ it's nothing new or of note for him to say, though it undoubtedly will trigger his friend to hastily make a string of comments for it in one of his notebooks, something this redundant ninja is a tad more curious over now that he's gotten a good look into at least one of them.

will this go on until the end of time? or however long their... companionship may last, anyway, a thought sonic's not all too keen on mulling over. enjoying himself in the moment is more of his style, much less concerned over the hows and whys of his future if it doesn't have to do with his fighting and kill count. he has no question that it'll be a topic for a later date, even if he once again has no answers to give, very little consideration being put into it thus far. they've already wasted enough time as it is, after all. ]

[ he does, at least, have the audacity to not drop sonic where they stand so he can rush off to grab the nearest ink pen and get to work. this is about where genos should be leaving him, though, trusting he can figure out the inner workings of the minuscule washroom on his lonesome. so long as sensei's rubber ducky isn't touched, there should be no problems.

should be, yet he's not budging an inch, merely adjusting his grasp while slowly blinking back at a pair of eyes as gray as the alloy covering him. he clears his throat to mask the laughter bubbling up in his throat, mutating into a cross between a gruff heh and what can only be described as an innocuous error in his voice module. smooth. ]

...you still look better this way. [ an even slower conclusion to come to, sliding his line of sight away from sonic and into the open adjacent room. funny how it takes him until now to resume his bashfulness, given what they've spent the past hour doing, the handful of lurid thoughts skittering through his psyche. he's going to be good, he reminds himself, not put his friend through the wringer anymore, and...place him on his feet to let him bathe in peace.

eventually. probably. no matter how nicely tucking him into his chest has him appearing. ]

[ the teen should count himself lucky that sonic isn't the type to point out every single little hitch in his system, less concerned over smaller details if everything looks and sounds relatively up to shape. a blip like that merely has him cocking his head to the side, due more to the statement when it's all said and done. ]

Naked? [ shouldn't that be obvious? sonic's taken such good care of his figure, minus the scars that are of no fault of his own. past that, he's crafted his body in such a careful way that it's hard to not see how much time and effort he's put into maintaining his appearance, if only because it's something that should be taken care of to the utmost degree.

or maybe genos means something else. sometimes the s-class villain is slow to catch on. ]

[ his laughter is genuine now, fuller in expression. sonic isn't wrong, being nude is a plus, but it's not what genos is hinting at. it doesn't affect him if sonic can't piece together a reference bordering on sixteen days in age. he can clarify it all the same, letting him slide down to the floor at last: ] No. Next to me. When I hold you.

[ like he's presently doing. down doesn't mean he's willing to completely free sonic, each arm held fast to his form like a barnacle. flirting hadn't been something he had a natural aptitude for from the start, and after the passage of time, it doesn't seem as though he's gotten much better at it. they emerge as hard-hitting saccharine declarations more than the lighthearted quips they're supposed to be.

given more practice—as he has with the physical aspects—he'll probably warm up to it. if all else fails he can include it in his research regimen, see where that leads him, memorize some new lines to try out. ]

[ they wouldn't be completely parting anyway, sonic's hands have found a nice perch about genos's neck, looped around the trunk of it loosely. ah, so that's what he meant? it sort of rings a bell, faintly tickled that he's trying to play some sweet words on him. this is more or less flirting, yes, and the ninja in question can't deny that he likes it, finds it more charming than it initially had been.

pressing his body flush against a metal front takes less than a tiny shuffle forward, head tipped to the side while a carefree smile tugs at his lips. ] I think so, too. [ yet another thing he's content with admitting, feeling more free and reassured (over what, nobody will ever know) than ever before. ]

[ from this position he can (slowly, at a crawl) walk them into the bathroom proper, right past the threshold of it. ]

You would never pass up an excuse to praise yourself. [ critical words, though delivered airily. apparently genos is as clumsy on the receiving end as he is on the giving one, blind to a compliment which hugs the edge of being indirect. ]

[ normally that'd earn him a pinch, maybe a small slap upside the head, but sonic's in too good of a mood to potentially muck up something that would be done halfheartedly. in exchange he'll try to lean upward as they scoot into the tiniest bathroom he's ever seen, push their noses together with the right amount of leverage on his end. ]

Yep. [ why wouldn't he? confidence is attractive, after all, grinning cheekily before planting a solid kiss to genos's lips. ] And you like it.

[ so he does. but readily admitting to it is akin to showing defeat, forcing his features to resemble something sour as he peers at sonic. ]

I like you. [ there. better? ]

I know you do. [ rocks upward to brush a pursed mouth across the bridge of his nose. ] Even my arrogance.

[ this is where genos lets go, simultaneously amused and agitated by this so-called arrogance. he's riding a fine line; when it comes to sonic, he always has. the newfound tenderness helps to soften a good amount of the edge. ]

...yes, even then. [ flicking on the lightswitch would help, wouldn't it? ]

[ it just goes to show how far they've come, really, that little things like these don't end up with sonic being a millisecond away from cleaving genos's head in two without so much as lifting a weapon, or genos haphazardly blasting away with those equally deadly hands of his. they haven't sprung to violence in any means for a long time now, can't see it happening anytime in the future, either. it still amuses sonic to some degree, to see the stark contrast, one that equally matches the silvery tint of alloy against soft, paler patches of scarred skin.

he takes a second to observe these differences, his hands having slid off in the process, though one's still lingering on the cyborg's forearm as he ponders in silence. ] ... [ another hint of something meaningful comes to him, nestled safely in the warmest spots of his heart. thus his cocky smirk flattens to a softer expression, gaze continuing to linger where they're still connected. ] Thank you.

[ who else would have put up with him for this long? sonic can maybe count all of one, maybe two people... if they're actually human at all to begin with. he's just not made for constant interpersonal encounters. ]

[ the significance is partly lost on genos. he isn't so thick to take this as gratitude over the past five minutes or so, nor is he so astute to see where all this has stemmed from. it's important, that much is certain, a moment which wouldn't call for him opening his mouth to regurgitate his confusion without a second thought. this is a learned behavior: sonic isn't saitama, isn't always so casual, isn't totally disconnected from the world he lives in. that's...refreshing, to say the least.

with his head cocked to one side, his gaze follows sonic's, lidding partway at where his hand lies. instinct, such as he has left to hold onto, compels him to cover it with his opposite one, compensating for the absence of being able to verbally deliver anything in turn. he can't just murmur a you're welcome and leave it at that, can he? no—it's like trying to walk out of the room and give the man some privacy when all he wants to do is stand firmly at his side, even for such a mundane activity as scrubbing himself off, or brushing his teeth. it can't be done, no matter how or much or how little he tries to propel his mechanical legs to do it.

in his opinion, sonic requires something special. the problem is in determining exactly what that may be, and until he does, or until sonic moves on, he's at a standstill. unlike some overly-energetic people, however, he's perfectly at peace with that, fingers flexing over skin far softer than looks. deceiving, considering the amount of lives they must have taken in their day. ]

[ the thanks uttered wasn't made to receive some kind of feedback. saying it without anything more attached to it was going to be his cue to retreat underneath hot streams of water, finally wash himself down, yet the pause puts sonic on the spot, coupled with the equally tender gesture and consideration he knows genos is offering him. he doesn't want to blow it off, leave it for another time and place... but nothing significant comes to him in the end, shaking his head to dismiss a long string of insecurities that bubbles up from time to time. ]

You should get an award. [ gently headbutts the other man's shoulder with his forehead, pressing into the spot thereafter. ] For putting up with me.

[ sonic means to make it a light quip against his personality, show genos that he isn't all that proud of his person as he makes himself out to be. despite the self-deprecating smile sonic wears for himself, he snickers in good humor, relinquishing the metal man in exchange for fiddling with the shower instead. ]

You are the award. [ a carefree remark deserves something equally so to match it.

since there's barely enough room for one person to fit in here comfortably, let alone two (genos knows from experience), this is probably about the time for the cyborg to make an exit. he has the floor to clean up, phone messages to send, a futon to properly lay out for sonic, running under the assumption he's crashing here... ]

The light blue towels are sensei's. I would strongly suggest helping yourself to the white ones. [ because they're what genos uses. he's inching backward to the open doorway, eyes on the other man all the while. ]

[ snorts in amusement from the corny but sort of smooth comeback, giving him a long glance over his shoulder with a quirked eyebrow. ] Yes, sir. [ now that's a throwback that's easier to trace, a joke he'd casually surprised genos with only what, an hour or so ago?

no matter. it's a closing statement before he's playfully nudging his barnacle fully out of the bathroom with a hand, shutting the door behind him before he's off to work. ]

[ it's as peculiar for him to hear the second time as it was the first. placid blinking is the only reaction he can really muster for sonic, neither perturbed at the implications nor all too intrigued by whatever they could mean, if anything. chances are it's nothing more than some verbal horsing around, easily dismissed with a snort of his own and a small shake of his head. classic sonic...it astounds him how he can think that now, after growing used to him throughout a great many months.

the door closes, leaving genos alone. he stares after it in a daze for far longer than he should be, needing a moment to cycle through the last several hours and process everything he's done. part of it still feels like something of a dream he'd have; it's all fallen into place so conveniently today, right when he'd given up hope on his routine ever changing, on the likelihood of running into the deadly figure he was becoming so alarmingly fond of anytime soon. at best he figured it was something they'd have to had painstakingly planned for, marked out a date on a calendar, set a time when sonic wasn't out on a mission and a place already potentially crawling with heroes so genos wouldn't have to break away at the last minute just to clobber a thug or thief upside their head for getting in the way. a hero's work is never done, it seems.

and to think sonic was the one who sought him out instead of the other way around. it's more than the boy can handle at the moment, clutching at his chestplates for an organ that isn't there, long losing his human heart yet incapable of escaping the tight, fluttering sensation left in his wake, something which sparks up his core and fizzles through his wiring. lovesick, again, unbeknownst to him. he has to physically shake it off, review a mental to-do list of objectives he can tackle while sonic primps himself in the bathroom. in truth he has no idea how long he plans on spending in there. a cursory five to ten minutes, or will he spend longer fussing over his hair, carefully determining which toothbrush is genos's to secretly steal it for a short time? or he could soak away in the bath, melt some of the strain and rigors of the day till he's a relaxed puddle ready to lay down for a long rest.

in any event, genos gathers his nerves, gathers up the mess they've made in the process. the floor he can continue to overlook, as the stains are minor, nothing of major note that shouldn't need to be addressed until their next major cleaning spree. more importantly, he retrieves and folds their discarded outfits, ensuring sonic's is in plain sight, while genos's can go in the hamper. a new tank top and shorts are fetched from his belongings, more out of habit than modesty as he puts them on, deciding to forego his own rinse for the evening. he will, at least, wash his hands off in the sink, scrubbing out every last nook and cranny so that none of the cloying strawberry scent remains. definitely not something he'd like to use over and over compared to ordinary everyday lubrication, but in a pinch, it served its purpose. he'll never be able to equate the aroma with anything else now besides sonic's wanton moans, the taut flexing of his upper back and shoulders, and a hot mouth affixed to the cabling on genos's neck.

he bites his bottom lip at the recent memory. there's no time he's revisiting this, there's no way he can barge into the bathroom in good conscience to deliver on those ten more times he'd mentioned. not when this is so new, so fragile, when they've been doing relatively well and the last thing genos wants is to muck it all up by being the greedy teenager he is.

thankfully it's easy to let subside, make way for the chores he has yet to accomplish. sleeping arrangements are simple when it's just him and sensei for the past year he's spent living here. when someone new is brought into the equation, someone you're...close to, it's trickier to determine the best course of action. should they share genos's futon? should he leave sonic to it while he finds a perch somewhere else in the room? despite his attachment he's strongly leaning towards the latter. sonic may be a cuddler, but there's no telling if sharing the single small mattress would actually be relatively comfortable in the slightest. genos can barely fit in it by himself, and he isn't that much bigger than his teacher, always wondering why the guy has to live so humbly, even in the most basic of matters, like bedding or kitchen supplies.

unable to come to a total decision, he'll settle for setting out his own futon as though it were a regular evening, but keep the used blanket draped over his shoulders, hunched over his laptop screen by the time sonic chooses to emerge and grace him with his presence. he's engrossed in research, mulling over a great many of the topics they'd discussed during the day, as well was certain ones brought to light in the short period spent by himself. primarily he's still stumped on what sort of word sounds cooler than courtship, unable to come up with any solid results to satisfy them both. there are only so many words genos knows, can't exactly pull from a dictionary when that's where he'd picked up the terminology to begin with. is it hopeless? he'll open up a few more tabs to be sure. ]

[ with a lack of his usual bedtime routine's supplies on hand, sonic won't take long at all. the bear minimum will have to do, though it irks him only slightly for half a second before he's shrugging and getting down to business, knowing he can just go home early in the morning, do it all over again proper. it's now when he realizes how different it is staying over at someone else's place for the evening, not just accidentally crashing for a few hours before jumping up and going along his merry little way.

perhaps the uneasy twist in his stomach is due to more uncharted quarters, uncertain of when the actual owner of the apartment would come stumbling in, scratching his head and calling him something that isn't related to his name in the slightest. the man still irritates him to some degree, bitter that he just doesn't put any effort into anything when he has such raw strength... on the other hand, he's easy enough to talk to, he reasons, having only a choice few encounters to live off of from this point. saitama ultimately isn't his problem, however, wondering briefly if genos has had any words with the hero about their courtship, snickering under his breath at the memory of such an uncool phrase passing the cyborg's lips.

stupid is what he mutters into a washcloth, yet the fond smile on his face speaks of an adoration sonic's not yet fully aware of.

remembering what genos said earlier, he'll help himself to a white towel, patting his hair dry before doing a quick sweep over his body, wrapping the cloth around slightly flared hips to finish. he takes a peek outside, poking his head out to survey the damage, immediately honing in on his clothes neatly folded and set aside for him. of course. ]

Hey. [ a confused frown tugs at his lips when he picks up black underwear from the pile, looking to and fro for a sheet of red cloth he'd claimed earlier. ] Where's my hoodie?

[ his, not genos's. it was really comfortable... ]