It was strange, to see a naked man in the area where there was supposed to be exactly no one. Moreover, how that person was even able to kill that mosquito woman by just only one punch? He needed to know his name, to learn how to be as strong as him.
He had to become his disciple.
It was an inner need, something so crucial to his own well-being it almost hurt. Such a magnificent human, so powerful and yet kind and gentle. Was it even possible to ignore such an amazing person or, what worse, to hate him? As people showed in no time, yes, it was even more than possible. Unbelievable. What a waste to humanity…
At least that was Genos’ opinion, a common thought which usually went throw his mind after encountering citizens. Not all of them of course, because there actually existed people who, just like him, found Saitama a good person. There weren’t many of them, though, and that was kind of depressing.
“I don’t mind them, really” that was his answer when asked about that one evening. They were heading their flat after a battle with minor monster. The sun was touching the horizon, sky red and orange, slowly turning pink and navy in some parts. Genos was not an artist but he found that view aesthetically pleasing. “We are all humans, after all. I’m not hero for being praised”
It was almost a month since their first encounter and yet, he still was in incredible awe of his teacher’s abilities. Heck, he could not believe Saitama actually agreed to take him as his disciple! It was not an easy thing but he managed that and now, after moving in and helping him with both domestic and justice-related duties, he felt like at home. Somehow.
“You deserve that, though” Genos said, still looking at the setting sun, waiting for the night to come. “Sensei, you don’t even know how great you are” he added after a minute or two. Saitama said nothing to that, though.
Before they entered the flat, Genos spotted a few fireflies, peacefully dancing in the air.
They say heart is not a servant and even though he technically did not have one, Genos could swear this statement is more than accurate. Maybe he was lacking heart and maybe an artificial core was the thing which kept him alive but there were moments when he felt human again. He didn’t felt like his old self, of course, but this gentle touch of warm and fuzzy feelings somewhere deep inside his stomach (or rather a place where it should be) whenever Saitama built him up.
He was more than aware it was naïve of him, such stupid wishful thinking but again, he was hopeless when it was about Saitama. The funny thing was than Genos perfectly knew his teacher had questionable appearance in a matter of attractiveness but he could not denied this specific atmosphere he created around himself. He was not the most beautiful person he had ever seen but he was for sure the most lawful and tender one.
Genos found himself falling for him each passing day and the stronger his feelings were becoming, the more fearful he was becoming. Not about hurting Saitama nor anybody else. He was afraid of his own self.
Because how ridiculous was that? He, so called Demon Cyborg, was capable of such gentle feelings? He, an orphan who devoted its life to defeating his family’s killer, found himself lost in so many ways it was probably impossible to count them. He had never been in love before and even though he could search tones of information at once, he was sometimes lacking words when around Saitama, hell, he found himself stuttering once or twice even. How embarrassing…
On the one hand he really wished Saitama knew. He wished the person who was cherished by him the most, could noticed his feelings. He wasn’t asking for reciprocating them, no, it was way too much for him to even dream about it, no. All he asked for was simple acceptation. He was not scared of being kicked out of instant rejection. The thing he was anxious about the most was the probability that Saitama might find him disgusting and make fun of him. He didn’t seem like such a kind of person but the fear was strong within him.
If he had to make a comparison, he would describe it as a tiny fire somewhere deep inside of him. Whenever he was close to Saitama or when he was praised by him, this small flame made him feel at ease, just like a fireplace makes people feel like at home. However, sometimes this light could spread too much and too fast, causing more damage than good. If not stopped in time, it would become a blaze.
Living day by day, without a real hope and with more than it, almost praying for something, for anything. What love had done to him? He had struggled before but it was not that difficult. Genos could say with a certainty that being almost deadly injured by a mad cyborg was much less painful than falling in love with someone who couldn’t be yours.
One day, however, everything collapsed. It was already too much for him to handle, his feelings brimmed out of his metaphorical heart. One night, when he was ready to leave Saitama’s place at any time, he confessed. It was awkward, fuzzy and overall messy. Genos felt he was slowly digging his own grave with each spoken word but, hey, it was already too late to turn everything into a joke. So that he continued, trying not to cry or show how messed up he actually was inside.
When he finished, the silence between them seemed worse than any almost-fatal wound he had ever received from any monster. He was ready to stand up, go and never come back but then he heard those words. Two calming and yet heartbreaking words.
Genos was not sure whether it was an optic illusion or not but he could swear he just saw a bunch of fireflies outside, dancing lively in the air and making heart-like shapes.
Only a year ago, Genos was scared to death whenever he let his guard dow, for even a second, that he would do something inappropriate. That he would not be able to control his own desire and feelings and do something reckless. He was afraid of showing any signs, any insinuations that he actually was deeply in love with Saitama.
And now? They were snuggling together, watching a dumb horror movie in an old TV in their flat. Eating popcorn from sale and doing pointless remarks to characters’ irrational behavior. Laughing. Holding hands. Cherishing each other’s companion. Being together.
Of course it had not been like that since the very beginning but it was much easier than Genos had thought. Not only did Saitama not rejected him, but he also thanked him. He, the greatest man alive, was sincerely thankful for liking him. Besides that, nothing had changed. Almost nothing. Genos would say it was a really slow process but in no time did he realize they started to behave like a casual couple. After few tries even holding hands and kissing stopped being awkward.
However, it was hard to admit, but Genos genuinely craved for something more. Hell, he hated the fact he was finding himself thinking about such stuff so damn often but he really couldn’t help that. It was out of his control, too far above his abilities. The only thing he was grateful for his experience in hiding his desires and feelings deep inside. Nonetheless, as he was painfully aware, he was not capable of blowing out that inner flame, that tiny fire inside of him, which was becoming bigger and bigger each passing day he and Saitama were dating.
Another ludicrous thing in his life, someone could say. It didn’t change the fact this dumb anxiousness was growing stronger and stronger, only to find its door out that exact evening, that exact moment a monster was chasing protagonist in a dark forest.
“Sensei…” he started quietly, wrapping his arms around him, pressing his lips gently to the Saitama’s neck and living there a kiss. And another one. And another two. Soon enough, he was kissing all over he’s beloved one’s body, holding him both as tightly and kindly as he was able to.
Genos was surprised Saitama didn’t scold him nor hit him. Hell, he was even more dumbfounded by the fact his lover took a lead. He would have never expect such a situation but, speaking the truth, he could not complain. Actually, saying things like “he felt felicitous” would be a huge understatement. Each single cell of his body, no matter if biological or artificial, screamed from an enormous delight. He could stay in those strong arms for the eternity, looking at Saitama’s tender eyes, kissing his soft lips, gently touching his warm skin.
All of this accompanied by a delicate light from fireflies’ bodies.
It was indeed fun, to feel loved. To be cared for. To forget about every single problem for a little while. For the first time in his entire life, Genos felt needed without the need to be such. He had been thinking that if there was no use of him then there was no point in him being alive as well. However, Saitama proved him wrong. His teacher thought him that it’s okay to just be. To exist and nothing more. How crucial it was for him, to understand this simple concept.
Now he knew. He had learnt his lesson. How to be human while not exactly been one. How to cherish life with its both pros and cons. Sounds easy but, heck, he didn’t know all of that till he met Saitama. The most powerful hero alive. His clumsy teacher. The love of his life.
“Genos, please…” he could barely heard him as his hearing cords were almost entirely off. It was painful to look at Saitama’s face in such a situation but he was too weak to actually do something. To do anything. He hardly found some spare energy to keep his vision on, so just he could watch world around him for a minute longer.
It was wrecked. Stunning. Beautiful and repulsive at the same time. Strange, isn’t it? To live in such a complex place. To be thankful for every single moment in life and blame everything for a situation he was in right now.
He was especially thankful for those small fireflies behind Saitama, which helped him reminisce all those wonderful memories. Their gentle glow made him live through the best moments in his life.
Genos came up to conclusion there was no use in keeping hearing cords on. Instead, he took all energy left so that he could take Saitama’s hand and look at him for the last time.
“Thank you, sensei” smile showing up on his damaged face, an oil tear escaping the corner of his eye just right before losing sensation in his hand. It didn’t bother him because he already was numb all over his body or rather all over what remained from it.
His golden eyes shut for good and even the most powerful hero was not capable of bringing him back to life.