Chapter Text
Gen clutched Senku close as he slept in his arms for the second time that morning. Despite the compassion in the gesture to keep Senku steady and safe, Gen knew he used the hold as an embrace for selfish reasons. The overbearing heat of tropical ocean sailing disappeared in the storm. The ocean waters themselves cooled, and the design of the ship allowed for the drafty winds to circulate in the cabins. Senku radiated heat, the type of warmth that smelled of the sun and felt like home. So while wanting to keep Senku sleeping without worry of the rocking, Gen wrapped his arms around Senku as a way to press his cold chest against the warmth of Senku’s back.
Ryusui and Ukyo assured Gen well enough that the storm would pass. The violence in shaking of the cabins should have prevented anyone from being asleep, yet Senku only needed about a minute in Gen’s arms before lulling off like a baby in a swaying cradle. Gen took it as further proof that Senku’s exhaustion went deeper than he let on. Between the small nap this morning and the nap Senku would have during the storm, Gen surmised that would be about a third of the time Senku allowed himself to sleep during the week.
Gen tossed around in his mind making himself the job of Taking Care of Senku. His attempts at kindness seem too out of character, and Gen sickened himself to think he had become so soft. Just . . . no one else would do the work. Perhaps no one else attempted, knowing Senku could out-wit them and assure them he was fine. Senku gave his logic and reasoning about why he did what he did, so no one could press him to stop.
At some point Gen had to let himself believe the lie that Senku was fine. As they planned war with Tsukasa, as they planned Perseus’ construction, as they sailed to the Americas. Gen always let himself believe Senku was Fine. Never good. Never okay. But Fine. Competent and manageable.
Gen wanted to change that. Gen wanted so deeply to go back to a small observatory that was little more than an elevated hut. Gen wanted Senku to waste his breath trying to explain an experiment into the dead of night. Gen wanted Senku to smile with Gen as they plotted ways to obtain Drago for Ryusui. Gen wanted Senku to feel safe again — or maybe “for once,” being the better term. Gen wanted Senku to thrive.
If anyone could do it, Gen figured he could. He provided Senku with a fraction of the necessary comfort twice in one day already. Gen believed he could get over his own fear of loving and getting close if it meant the person he loved improved and flourished. Even if on purpose, even if he trusted Senku to figure things out, Gen had left Senku’s side for quite some time. When Gen returned, the bags under Senku’s eyes doubled in size, his hair frayed more in stress, his eyebrows turned downward in constant plotting.
And Senku stopped smiling.
Perhaps, if Gen allowed himself pride, he could admit that Senku needed his presence. Unknown to both of them, Gen gave Senku some sense of stability.
When Gen returned from his time with Stanley and Xeno, he had all but avoided Senku. All because he feared Senku, feared caring about him would lead to dependency all over again. The time with Xeno broke Gen purely because he longed for his leader - not because Stanley threatened to kill him multiple times in his stay. Gen would face any hardship for Senku, except the one of not having him. He left Senku, then returned a coward who wanted to build distance in a pathetic attempt to build independence. But the entire time they both needed each other to feel okay.
In the single day since Ukyo confronted him to talk to Senku about his feelings, he has bridged some of the self-inflicted gaps. Even the most socially inept person could tell Senku’s shoulders tensed less and his eyes contained hope instead of solitary, pensive determination to work. All because of Gen? The observation flipped Gen’s heart and stomach more than the waves.
Gen’s cold body warmed against Senku, and he felt alive. He felt like he had a purpose. The boat had rocked with a force that shoved Gen nearly off the bed four times since Senku slept, and Gen felt so alive with purpose as he kept Senku from the worst of those shakes. During a lull moment of the storm, Gen loosened his grip around Senku’s waist so he could move away from the edge of the bed. In that instant, Senku took the chance to roll onto his other side. Gen thought it must have been a subconscious choice in Senku’s sleep until he settled to wrap his arms back around Senku and caught the vibrant red eyes.
“Ah?” Gen let the surprise noise escape, a flush spreading over his cheeks. “Senku-chan, you don’t normally sleep with your eyes open.”
Senku said nothing as a rock pushed them while Gen’s grip remained loose. Without meaning to get closer, Gen found himself hovered on Senku’s chest. One of Senku’s hands gripped the edge of Gen’s coat while the other arm snaked itself beneath the toe coat and around Gen’s waist. “You would know how I sleep better than anyone. You used to always be at my side,” Senku spoke with a point, like an accusation. “You’re the one I let fall asleep after me. The only one I would sleep around without extraneous situations.”
“Not often enough,” Gen stated in a whisper. With Gen still above Senku’s his arms wobbled at his side to support his body without tipping over in the storm. One arm supported his body at Senku’s shoulder with the pressure going through only his palm, and the other one bent at Senku’s head with the weight spread with his entire core arm used to support himself. “You kept working. You never fell asleep without me telling you to. Even then, I knew you faked going asleep half the time.”
“So? So did you.” The arm coiled around Gen pressed down so Gen succumbed to the need to lie entire upon Senku’s chest. “You’re cold. Is that why you never slept?”
“I said I would sleep later, after the storm I gave you no assumption I would fake sleeping this time around.” Gen relaxed his body so even though he strained to support himself above Senku, he still leveled his heavy breath. Senku wanted more to Gen’s answer, Gen knew, so Gen relented as he calmed himself to think of the implied truth. “Well, most of when we slept together it was winter. . . But yes. I was too cold to sleep.”
Senku said nothing immediately besides a small, observational, “Hm.” Gen saw some of his longer white hairs spread over Senku’s face. If Senku were to try to speak, he would get a mouthful of hair. Gen started to move away, but instead Senku slid the strands away and tucked them behind Gen’s ear with the hand previously on his coat. Some strands still fell, but not enough to do more than tickle Senku’s ears. “You snore when you’re cold. Not always, but I would stay awake to observe it. Snoring is a sign of poor breathing, and I always worried about what caused it. When it gets below around -3°C, you snore. I stopped faking when I slept once I figured that out, and only stayed awake a little after you went to sleep so I could find something to keep you and the observatory warm.”
“Oh.” Gen lost his ability to speak for a moment. Senku bent a leg up, the new position providing Gen with more warmth and barrier around Gen. “Damn, I can’t believe I snore, please continue to keep me warm so no one has to hear that.”
Senku rolled his eyes and Gen bit back a grin. “It’s not as if I do it for your reputation. It affects your sleep quality. Keeping you warm and safe has much more practicality. That’s all.”
“And you do a very good job of practicality, so I suppose I should thank you.”
“‘Suppose’ you ‘should’ all you want, but I know you won’t say it. You always return the favor regardless of what you say or the thanks you don’t say.”
Gen wished the words to be true. Gen wanted to give back to Senku all that Senku gave him, and struggled to find any use for himself at Senku’s side. Gen had an array of talents, all mostly useless on a boat. So Gen thought of planning for the future, of getting off the boat, and his skills still lacking for scavenging. Once people would become the priority, Gen could shine, but they had to survive themselves before they could revive others. Gen’s debt would increase and increase as he continued to be a burden.
“Being here is enough, Gen,” Senku broke the silence that lasted for longer than Gen thought to count. After a rock in the boat, smaller than any of the previous ones, Senku adjusted his hold on Gen and guided Gen to lay before he positioned himself to sit on the edge. “So don’t bother with your honey-tongued platitude. Stay. Sorry I didn’t actually sleep that much back at the observatory, but even being in your presence helped me relaxed. I never tested it, but I’m certain I’d have slept worse if you weren’t there.”
“It was rather creepy when you turned and started staring at me, though. You didn’t observe me that close before in the village, did you?”
“No, not really. I didn’t want to bother you. You’re an annoyingly light sleeper for a guy who can’t get up in the morning to work.”
Gen lay on the bed and clung to the sheets beyond the need for stability from the settling storm. Senku kept choosing the most confusing words as he toed the lines of compassionate and teasing. Gen lost count of how many times his heart nearly beat too fast out of his chest only for Senku to sink it back into his stomach. “You should have tested out different methods to get me out of the hut. How have you, Mr. Trial-and-Error, not conducted a million experiments on the best way to wake me up in the morning?”
The quirk in Senku’s eyebrow betrayed Senku’s otherwise passive expression of nonchalance. Gen could only imagine what horrible experiments Senku probably tried. “You mentalists and your hyperbole. There’s no way to have a million morning tests when we’ve only shared our bed 462 times.” Senku paused, and sighed. “And even if I get you fully out, you’d crawl right back if I mentioned work anyway. Not even cola could bribe you to stay awake.”
“The caffeine would help me stay awake - you should have given me ore-may. You only offered once, if I recall correctly. You could have repeated on a night I didn’t spend awake working on sewing with Yuzuriha until 2am.” Gen loosened his grip on the sheets and adjusted himself to sitting on the bed’s edge by Senku.
“And you only stayed up with her until 2am by your choice. I told you both to stop hours before that point.”
A point Gen conceded to Senku. Any time Senku outwit him, Gen marked it as two losses, a loss of individual debate and a loss for proving himself as the master of conversation. For fear of losing his ranks in their kingdom, Gen needed to reword Senku’s point in his favor and keep twisting the situation. At the least Gen never regretted losing sleep that night when he had the satisfaction of finishing the task, a task that got Yuzuriha’s hard-earned approval. Gen coiled his body into himself as he sighed. Gen could brag that he still made the right call. “It was only a few hours of rest compared to making sure everyone stayed warm before a cold front came. Even for two colas, I might have done the same to ensure I fixed my torn winter shoes. I suppose there are times you cannot get me to listen to you no matter how you insist.”
Senku bit his lip, but Gen caught the way it twitched with irritation. “That’s not one of your worst traits.” Senku curled his lips down and clenched his fingers. “It’s annoying, though. It’s unfair I’m trying to be better at listening to you when you have my best interest at heart but you don’t do the same for me. It’s always - ” Senku cut himself off with a deep inhale. “I like being challenged by someone. I like that you have your own values, your own skills, your own mind. I like that you never say thank you. You show gratitude by settling debts. I like you, Gen, and whenever I try to show that you don’t seem want to listen when I have your best interest at heart.”
Senku flipped their positions on the mattress. Gen’s hair scattered over the pillow as Senku pinned him down. The rocking of the ship no longer affected Gen as Senku kept his hold tight with a strength and security that rivaled Taiju’s. “Senku-chan?” Gen’s heart wobbled despite his body remaining totally safe within Senku’s hold. “Senku-chan, that was one night. I’m telling you to just try again. I said no to two colas, but I’d listen f- ”
“You ran away.”
“I . . . Senku-chan, that’s not true. I just have things I have to do, but I always come back. I always come back to share our bed.”
Gen thought he wanted his heart to stop flipping until it froze when Senku leaned his face closer. Gen’s breath caught in his throat in the second it took Senku to lower his face enough so Senku’s race rested on Gen’s chest. “You don’t know if you’ll always come back. When it was against Tsukasa, we always knew we’d win. I knew I would never let you lose, and I worked out every plan I could to make sure I could be alive with everyone when we won. I listened to you for that. But when you ran away . . .”
“Senku-chan, you can correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you might be being a bit unfair,” Gen scolded with a small smile on his lips. The tone comes across almost doting instead of exasperated as Gen massages small circles over Senku’s back while they lay on Gen’s barely-functioning chest. “This is about one incident, just not the nights in Japan.”
Senku offered no reply; Gen counted the silence as a win. Gen could still understand Senku better than even Senku understood himself when it came to conversation. That assurance gave Gen the confidence to keep speaking.
“I came back, safe and unharmed,” Gen repeated. “You can let go of me, Senku-chan. I won’t run away to the villains’ lair again. I am at your side. I know you know that.”
“I don’t know that. Knowing people is your job, after all. All I know is you have a mind of your own, and you use it to do whatever it takes to keep everyone else safe,” Senku spoke into Gen's chest without mumbling and with enough clarity to send vibrations of his words through Gen’s skin. Senku lifted his face from Gen and grimanced. “What happened to the man who was the most selfish man in the world? The man who’s never jeopardize himself? That was the person I could trust.”
The words filled the last puzzle piece of the picture, and Gen felt his will collapse when he saw how it came together. “Please . . .Please, Senku-chan, don’t talk about me like you’ve already seen me dead and buried me.” Composure. Poise. Honesty. Gen kept himself together from his years of practice, though it took a pause for his voice to not crack underneath the weight of his words. “I am selfish. I only want to see this all through with everyone. That is what I want.”
The ship stabilized beneath them. The jerking turned into small ebbs. Senku’s eyes never calmed, and Gen wanted to find the way to console him. Instead of Gen helping Senku, Senku reached out his hand. Gen could see it reach for his face, but before it could cup Gen’s cheek, Senku coiled his hand in Gen’s white hair.
“The worst of the storm may have passed, but the waters are still rough,” Senku explained as he took his second hand to start dividing Gen’s longer stands into parts. Gen knew parts of his hair knotted from the excessive and relentless sea breeze tossing around his hair; Senku worked through the tangles and knots with the patience and steadiness Gen could always rely on Senku to have. “I’ve seen it whip in your face too much. If it’s together in a braid, the hair might be too heavy to disturb your line of vision. You spend up to five minutes every day tucking your hair behind your ear or getting it out of your face. That’s just not practical. I need you to be alert and notice as much as you can.”
“You can’t - ” Gen hid himself in his sleeves to calm down, “You can’t call me the mentalist when you play so much attention to me like that. Makes me feel like I’m the one being observed.”
“Is that so wrong, from me?” Senku tore his gaze away from the half-braid to look at Gen. Senku stared with intention, with Gen as his intention. “There’s always a lot you don’t tell me. Your needs and worries. You’re the only one who doesn’t get helped by you, so I don’t mind picking up some observational skills for you. It’s. . . practical.” Senku turned back to the hair, and his hands twined Gen’s hair only to undo it partially when the wave rocked and created a crooked section. “And I’ve learned a lot about you. I had no idea you didn’t actually have ‘gray hairs’ before.”
The confusion physically moved Gen. Senku used only the most careful touch to not pull or hurt Gen, but Gen jerked his head to the side in confusion. Senku let go, and the braid loosened as a result. “More than half my hair isn’t black anymore. What do you mean I don’t have any?”
Senku laughed, a sound Gen missed even if it seemed pointed at him. “Your hair is white. If it was gray hair, it would be indicative of stress or age factors putting a heavy toll on your body. The body loses the ability to produce sebum oil, and the strands are more coarse, brittle, and unhealthy. But both sides of your head,” Senku demonstrated his point by carding his hands one each side and running them through Gen’s hair, “feel the same. It’s like you were naturally always meant to be a bit light and dark, but, honestly, I’m happy to know. I’ve been concerned about if you’ve been overworked and stressed, if I’ve exacerbated the issue, but you’re fine and healthy.”
“So I’m not as much of an old man as you thought and won’t go easy on me for the workload anymore?” The smile he offered Senku proved he meant it in good spirit, but Senku quickly lost his own. Senku removed his hands from Gen’s head, and realized he undid most of the braid. “Can you make it again? I liked the idea of it, Senku-chan. You said it was another way to keep me ‘fine and healthy.’”
A scoff, “I said it’s practical for work. Of course you’ll have to work.” With how Senku’s hands went right to the white long hairs to redo the braid, Gen knew Senku practiciality played a part, but not the only reason. Since Senku mostly detangled the hair already, redoing a neat and orderly plait only took a few moments of Gen standing in front of Senku. No words needed, and Gen trusted Senku to take care of him and not make a mess of his style. The way the ship rocked and the peacefulness of Senku’s touch on him, Gen closed his eyes; he could sleep on his feet.
When Senku ran out of hair to braid, his hand alone pinching the end kept the locks from unraveling. “Ah. My, what happened to you, Senku? Aren’t you supposed to be calculating and have all the right tools? Isn’t that the man I trust?” Gen returned the words from earlier with no bite. Instead he only wanted to distract himself from how delicate Senku’s hands had worked in his hair despite the knots and still brought no pain or pulling to Gen. “You can use this as a hair tie. The braid should keep in place with it,” Gen suggested as he pulled out a flower, the stem long and malleable, from his sleeve.
Before Senku took the flower, he sighed and stared at it. The white petals and a yellow center looked so delicate against the yellowing green stem. “Your ability to preserve that so well might be magic without proper preservation chemicals. And,” Senku grabbed the flower and started tying it at the end of the braid, “You’re right. I haven’t been making sense. I haven’t been calculated. I noticed myself, and it feels like I’m taking you on a death trap. But . . . I’ve made some even more observations that help get through that.”
“Which is what? That I’m magical?” Gen pulled another perfectly kept flower from his sleeve to light the mood, not that Senku took the bait. With Senku’s face staying stoic, pensive, Gen relented himself to the ordeal of more honesty. “So what else could it be, Senku? I want to keep you safe. Tell me what keeps you feeling stable. You’re the only one who feels like you’re letting us down. We know you won’t. So. Tell me how to help.” Senku was right: having the braid creates a new feeling of weight. Gen tilted his head to the heavier side, which made him look all the more pleading as he reached out to Senku.
Maybe the pleading look worked, but Gen suspected Senku had always planned to tell Gen what he thought. “You said you’ll see this through. I never doubted your skill, but I -” Senku struggled to speak, and Gen could not rush him. “I worried. I worried when you left. It’s impossible to see a word with you not at my side, but I trust you. Having you here helps me, Gen, more than I know how to say. So all you have to do,” Senku finally, finally straightened his posture from his slumped shoulder and crossed arms, and smirked right when he looked up at Gen. He looked like Senku. Gen’s Senku. “And I know you hate ‘doing’ anything, but all you have to do is ‘see.’ See this through with me.”
Gen looked at Senku.
All Gen could do, for that moment and every moment in the future, was look at Senku.
“We’ve been sailing for quite some time, Senku-chan. I’m here because I share your vision. I only want to see things through with you.”
The confidence in Senku continued as he took a step closer into Gen’s personal space. For the past few days Gen wondered if he had any personal space left. A fleeting concern when he wanted to take a step to Senku. Senku lifted his hands to hold Gen’s cheeks. His thumb traced along the tattoo of Gen’s scar. Despite neither being strong, Gen felt safe in that barely-hold inside the rocking ship.
“I wish you would, Gen. even half of what I see. So tell me, Mr. Mentalist, what’s your vision?”
Gen closed his eyes and focused only on Senku’s touch. “You’ll change my nickname from Mentalist to Oracle with how right I know I am.” Gen trailed a finger lazily along one of the scars on Senku’s forehead, noting the rough feeling of the flesh. “We’ll be in our sixties. We’ll be in a sleek lab with white lights and the hum of machinery in the background. You’ll have been there all day, and I only just entered with my latest smartphone because Taiju and Yuzuriha will be calling to announce their youngest child is having a child.
“They’ll already have been wonderful parents and you’re trying to choke back tears as though decades of friendship hasn’t softened you. You’ll be planning to build them the finest cradle for the new grandbaby. But I’ll have to drag you away and say you need to eat dinner because your old man brain is still going to need to have proper nutrients. You’ll get grumpy with me, and I’ll use the same trick I’ll have always used by that point to get you to stop working. And at this point you know the trick but it still works. But you’ll notice I’m hungry, too, and you take me to the new restaurant that opened the moment gas pipelines for gas stove became common infrastructure.
“It’ll be a special night, so I’ll say we should celebrate. I order the cola I know I should have and you’ll order ramen and we’ll see a teenager in the restaurant who barely remembers life before blu-ray and PlayStation 11 because we’d have been working for that very thing. Technology for everyone to use and enjoy that the hardships of 3,700 years won’t matter to the new generations. That’s the vision I see. That’s what I’ve seen since you counted seconds for every one of those 3,700 years.”
“Are you really ready to wait forty years for me to say, ‘You were right’?” Senku sounded smug, or maybe coy. “Isn’t it too early to make all those predictions?”
“You’re trying to challenge me, a mentalist, to a waiting game? Just save us both the trouble and admit there’s a ‘ten billion percent’ chance that’s the same future you see.”
“Your claim about Taiju and Yuzuriha, yes, I agree. And I will be in my lab barely working through meals, that’s only logical.” Senku stopped touching Gen’s face in favor of clutching at Gen’s coat. “And . . . you see yourself right at my side, for all that time.”
“Are you going to tell me that’s wrong?” Gen asked to challenge Senku, but for once all he needed to hear was that Senku already thought the same thing.
“I don’t say things are wrong. There is only disprove or gaining supporting evidence,” Senku retorted, clutching Gen’s coat even tighter. The answer set both their nerves on fire. “I’ve already said I like your company, that I like you. I’m willing to put my bias into the hypothesis to prove it right.”
“So then that's the plan. After this chase, after we get people revived on every continent, after we help everyone, we’ll still work together.”
“Well, I didn’t say my vision had quite so many words, but I’m fine with adapting to your vision.”
Gen quirked an eyebrow up. Perhaps his words came across as too ambitious. A sleek “modern” lab when they traveled on a rickety ship with lowly construction. Gen thought of the observatory with a telescope made of bamboo and primitive glass. He recalled the rare metals lost in the world. Gen even considered the idea of gas and oil and energy rare commodities to use when many renewable energy sources needed energy. Would the world produce enough food to have enough excess to support restaurants? Perhaps Gen skipped too many steps to make the world return to feeling “advanced,” when Senku only saw the step by step pieces rebuilding at a slower pace. Contrary to a man who intended to reach the moon, but Gen saw no other reason why Senku would hesitate to agree with Gen’s vision.
“What did yours entail? You have many women who admire you. Did you need me to include a home with a wife and three kids and a dog?” Gen played it like a joke, but he could never see that future. Even Luna started to realize the depth of Senku’s feelings, so Gen certainly never foresaw such a reality for Senku; it simply would not be the realize to make Senku most happy and fulfilled. In the end, that mattered most, more than society. Gen wanted Senku to be more than satisfied or content rebuilding society; he wanted Senku to be happy building new things and exploring new concepts.
“You really understand me more than even you know,” Senku laughed, laughed as he spoke; he sounded so hearty and alive and energetic even Gen would never suspect the man ran on 1 hour of sleep and salt water. “You finished the vision. Even with some egregious details added, you’re right. I want a home, filled inside with people I love and want to dedicate my life to. I want a lab, my friends to be happy, the world to flourish, and a home, with you distinctly in it like you have been. Where you’re safe and you help me sleep at night and I make you your morning cup of cola before working on baby toys for Taiju and Yuzuriha’s second child. I’ll be with you when your hair really does become gray and old.”
Gen let himself cry. The lack of rest drying his eyes, and also because the warmth of Senku’s desire reached Gen. a future so filled with love, a key bit Gen forgot when imagining his hopes for Senku. Senku was a man made of love, and he could devote forty, sixty, a hundred, or ten billion years to Senku with love in his heart.
Senku swiped his thumb under Gen’s watering eyes. “The storm should be ending, you know.”
Gen sniffled, and stifled a small laugh turned scoff. “I’m so done with storms. Our future home should be in a desert. And promise to install a heater in our future home. I can’t stand the idea of falling asleep with you every night and having you hear me snore when it’s cold.”
“I’ll keep you warm every night. Now I know there’s a ten billion percent chance of that.” Senku’s eyes shine. The stress accumulated throughout the rough weeks disappeared. His confidence, smile, laugh, posture, everything brightened the room.
The storm ended. The ship passed the last cloud. Senku grabbed Gen’s hand. “Let’s go back to the deck and finish this race. We’ve got too much to plan for the future to waste time on a boat.”
Senku kept their hands clasped together. When they reach the sunny top of the ship, the scent of salt rain and wet wood fill the fresh air. The sun finally showed and illuminated the excited faces of the rest of the crew emerging. A breeze passed, not harsh like a stormy gust of wind, but Gen felt no hair in his face with the braid secured on the side of his face. Without the blinding strands, Gen really appreciated being able to see, see Senku’s vision. For finally seeing bright sunlight, Gen expected to be blinded reaching outside.
But he kept his gaze on Senku’s back, who shone even brighter than that.