Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

If you were to ask Asagiri Gen what is the most important thing about himself he’d say his role:

I am the greatest mentalist who ever lived, after all! He thinks cockily, head raised high as he enters the fancy building, Everything else is secondary to that~

Really, for what’s anything else compared to his role, his is skills, his talent?

Nothing, that is.

Bowing demurely at the entrance valet, he waltzes inside:

After all, my job allows me to eet-may people, visit places and buy stuff everybody else envies me~

That’s the truth, though Asagiri Gen is the most superficial man on earth and he always wants: more recognition, more influence, more power… but all in due time:

Emember-ray your target, Gen, he humms to himself as he bites into a cheesy tart from the buffet, for this is a grand opportunity inally-fay meet dear Nanami-chan~ oh, where might he be~

Grand events like this are pompous and fancy and always somehow a bit tacky, full of rich people with more money than brains… though maybe a Jaxa gala will differ, somehow.

He thought so, but eh, not really.

This gala is no different from dozens of ones he has been to: he looks around, taking in the pompous decor, high profile guests and–

Oh? If it isn’t Tsukasa-chan~

He waives at the older boy, sending the MMA fighter a flourish little smile and tilt of his head and, when the stoic man just nods at his general direction before fleeing, Gen chuckles to himself:

Eheh, Tsukasa-chan, are you still ad-may at me? It’s been over a year~

The two of them had met a couple of times before, when the older had been invited to his shows, and it seems Gen has left a bigger impact than he’d assumed; pity: he wouldn’t have minded talking to a known face.

He looks around some more, lazily speaking to some unimportant guests and buttering up any eventual prospect: this is a gala, after all, and every conversation can turn into free advertising if he plays his cards right; he’s just finished talking with dear reporter Minami-chan, when a sudden clamor at the entrance makes him turn.

Lillian Weinberg is stunning, as expected, when she waltzes through the room like she owns it, like the absolute-ay diva she is, smiling kindly and waving softly, her long, high heels adorned legs carrying her swiftly to a man before she stops, greeting her mysterious companion and shaking hands with a boy, a boy a bit shorter than him and donned in a tailored red suit, with fair skin and white–

Wait, ite-whay? Is he- is he a…

The young man’s pale hair is tied in a ponytail with a couple of wild strands falling in front of his… his red eyes. Red.

What?

He is flabbergasted: there is a boy, a boy that is efinitely-day younger than him, who is shaking hands with Miss Weinberg, laughing and joking as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly; his white haired head. White.

Red eyes, pale white hair, fair skin.

What the actual uck-fay– how did I miss him! Who the hell is he?

Asagiri Gen is a mentalist and a great one at that, so it’s definitely unusual for him to miss such a… eye-catching guest.

So he asks around, and it takes him a while to learn something useful, something interesting, for it seems like the boy is not much known but, after talking to a gossipy server, he finally finds what he was looking for:

Ishigami Senku.

Son of Ishigami Byakuya, national hero and first ever Japanese astronaut to have travelled to the ISS, the boy has been invited to the event for having invented a space-travel safe ramen recipe, making it the first Japanese delicacy to ever reach outer space; the boy is a genius, really, a seventeen years old prodigy who managed to make himself a name among high profile scientists in both Japan and The States, where it seems he has a few contacts roaming around Nasa’s headquarters, together with the whole Soyuz crew.

The boy is a genius, yes, and he also looks like one: his body is lanky, with little muscular mass and his posture leaves a lot to be desired, yet he stands up straight, not like some of the other science nerds Gen sees all around them; he can’t hear what the boy is saying but he seems pretty nonchalant even after Nanami Ryusui finally makes his grand apparition.

Mmh, how interesting~

The small group has moved to the side, taking a corner of the room as they chat, and the boy is talking, has been talking for the past couple of minutes, a small frown on his face as he rants about some heartfelt topic.

 Gen can’t help it: he walks closer:

“Also, why would it matter or make a difference?” The youngest says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and girning,  “As long as you don’t have your bits showing, who cares what you wear? Any cloth will do.” 

Mmh, how un-fay~

That’s his cue, “Ah, but that is such a oring-bay way to see the world, dear!” He starts, “Clothes, hair, make-up, accessories have always been a way for humans to ommunicate-cay with one another! You can tell so much from how one presents themselves…” 

When everybody jumps in surprise at the sound of his voice, the mirth in his eyes surely intensifies: it’s useless to worry though, since no one ever seems to catch on to it.

Nanami Ryusui is exactly as he predicted: it only takes him a few flourish words, a tilt of his head, a smile and a couple of compliments and the man is already hooked, chest pouffing out at his veiled flirtation, and every body else too, Lillian Winberg and the older gentleman:

Ishigami Byakuya, the astronaut, his mind supplies.

It’s easy, as always: he smiles affably, covering his mouth demurely at the cocky laugh Nanami lets out, already in his net, hook, line and–

“As if you didn’t already know who this guy was, did you, magician?”

Everything stops, the laughter dying at the pointed deadpan, and he turns, smiling just as brightly as before, just as brightly as always; when his eyes meet a pair of red ones, he tilts his head again, “Oh my, my! I had no idea I was talking to a an-fay~”

His voice is light and teasing, affable, but he is far from meaning it; by the startled blink the other boy gives him, he must have realized so too.

There’s a couple of seconds of silence where he and the youngest lock eyes, neither of them backing away– before Ishigami Byakuya breaks the tension, grabbing his hand and shaking it vehemently as he compliments his work.

Mmh, at least someone here has good aste-tay.

The astronaut’s praise is sincere and he smiles, thanking him, throwing the man one of his classic lines about magic and all; when a scoff interrupts him, “What are you blabbering about, it’s all just a matter of physics and a bit of elasticity. Magic doesn’t exist.” 

The teen’s words are far from polite, yet the bashful reaction he has when his father gently chastises him makes Gen’s lips turn into a genuinely amused smile: the boy has interrupted him earlier, has disrupted his plan, and Asagiri Gen is not one to tolerate these things, for two can play this game:

Oh, this is gonna be fun~

So he tilts his head again, gently waiving the man’s worries away, “Don’t worry Ishigami-san, dealing with harsh critics is part of the ob-jay, after all!” He smiles at the boy, “Also, I feel like you know quite a lot about my performances dear, could it be that you actually enjoy magic~?”  

Hook.

When the boy’s face scrunches up in disgust, throwing him a I’m not even a millimeter interested in bogus tricks and circus shows–  he feels a thrill of adrenaline run up his spine at the oh so predictable answer.

Line. 

“And yet,” Gen says smugly, looking straight into those smart eyes and seeing a flicker of caution in them at his tone, “you recognized me straight away; are you sure you are not a fan of mine, Senku-chan~?” 

Sinker.

When the boy’s face flames up in pure soul crushing embarrassment, stuttering something bashful and digging his own grave as everybody laughs– he feels the smile on his own face turn predatory.

I won this round, dear, sorry not sorry~

By the look on Ishigami Senku’s face, he has realized so too.

Two can play this game, surely… but only one will win, and that one is himself.

Always.

His fun is cut short too soon, sadly, as Nanami, his server and Lillian Weinberg part, prompting both Ishigami to–

Oh? 

He feels his eyes widen slightly as he watches Ishigami-san observe Miss. Lillian’s parting back:

Oh, how interesting-ay~

Seems like love is in the air.

When Senku-chan hastily pushes his father to move, Gen smiles gently at them, teasingly waiving them goodbye as the man laughs wholeheartedly and the younger boy’s ears flame, throwing him an embarrassed, mortified bye–

How interesting-ay, his mind supply, how fun-ay~

“Mmh, anytime, Senku-chan, anytime~” he says in answer.

And he means it.

Galas and events like this are always so oring-bay, so predictable, so soulless– it’s not even funny.

Let’s see, maybe I’ll stir up a bit of chaos-ay, he thinks to himself, mindlessly observing the pompous guests form a corner of the ballroom, carefully scanning the crowd for his next target, when a voice startles him:

“What are you doing hiding here all alone? Are you scheming something mischievous again?”

He blinks, surprised– before he turns, and he is already smiling, “Mmh, who knows? Are you interested in joining me, Senku-chan?”

The boy’s tsk of annoyance has him smirking, teasing him as the younger rolls his eyes, begrudgingly admitting he has come to him because I’m bored, so quit being all mysterious and just tell me–

He smiles in mirth: this boy is smart, clearly, a genius really, and yet–

He is so easy~

Gen tuts then, tapping a finger on his lips, “I see, so how about we play a little guessing ame-gay, would that keep you entertained for a while, Senku-chan? Science versus mentalism!”

There’s cautious hesitance in the boy’s eyes, definitely due to the older’s earlier tease, but his boredom must be greater than his self preservation since he agrees to play, throwing him a pointed –just make sure not to cheat, you trickster magician, or the game’s over–

Oh sweety, Gen thinks amusedly as Senku-chan scans the crowd, his beautiful eyes frowning in concentration as he looks at their target up and down, sharing his suppositions, no need to orry-way: I don’t need to cheat to win this ame-gay~

Unsurprisingly, when he shares his own analysis, the younger boy scowls, face turned into a snarl as he steps away, offended at having been “cheated”.

It’s useless, though: because Asagiri Gen is a master of his craft and, after his explanation, Senku-chan must realize too, begrudgingly conceding defeat, “–I gotta admit you know your way around people, mentalist; guess you win this round, one billion points to you.” 

The compliment –although said with a petulant, pouting face– is genuine, and Gen feels an amused little grin tilt his lips:

Well, this is rather un-fay, Senku-chan~

They keep playing.

He’s having fun, and a lot of it at that: Senku-chan might not be as good at him but he is a fast learner, picking up more details at every round they play, sharing his suppositions and calculations with him, laughing and playing and teasing.

Gen is definitely winning, and by a long shot at that, but he is still having fun.

Senku-chan is not so ad-bay~

When the younger mindlessly tells him he’d love to get a feedback on the theories they had shared on the different guests around them, so to have decisive proof on their speculations– an idea hits him:

“Mmh, how about I’ll be your next arget-tay?” Gen smiles at the other’s questioning face, “This way you’ll get the feedback you want; also, we have been alking-tay for a while, so it should be easier for you to deduce things about me, don’t you think?”

Let’s see what you can guess, Senku-chan~

What a fool.

Gen prides himself in his ability to understand people, to predict them, their words, their actions, and yet, when the boy he has pestered and teased all night long correctly reads him without even a single waver of his voice–

Gen’s carefully hidden heart makes a sudden little flip in his chest.

O-Oh?

Senku-chan is still going, unwaveringly staring at him with those deep, smart eyes of his, “–you are skilled at what you do, extremely so, and you know it: you are confident about your abilities even if you don't show it; you are clever, and capable and…” 

When the boy’s cheeks tint slightly at his intensive stare– Gen’s brain roars:

Oh no, his mind supplies as he composes himself back, whining childishly when Senku-chan tries to break the ever growing tension between them with a poorly delivered pun–

Oh no, this is angerous-day–

That was close, closer than he assumed it could be– and yet he doesn’t stop.

When Senku-chan smiles expectantly at him, waiting for his own analysis of the younger boy’s character, Gen hears alarm bells ring in his brain telling him to back off, to leave, to run away, because he is getting too close, he’s allowing the other to see things he had never shared with anyone else before–

And yet, he wants.

There’s nothing to orry-way, he thinks to himself, whatever will happen I’ll turn out ine-fay, just like always~

There’s a bright smile on his face, light and unfazed– but his heart betrays him, pumping blood fastly as he keeps playing, circling the other and looking at his lean body up and down.

Senku-chan is rather… magnetic.

Mmh, he thinks, still he looks like one of those omance-ray haters… how fun! Let’s see~

He teases him then, throwing the boy a seemingly random –my, my, does Senku-chan have a little crush~?  When the boy’s expression turns soft at the mention of his friend, watching amusedly as the teen’s face scrunches up in disgust, pointing out that hell no! Yuzuriha is like a sister to me! Also, she obviously likes the big oaf– actually, I can’t stand them dancing around each other anymore, it’s time for Taiju to grow a pair and confess already–

Oh, he finds himself thinking, how adorable-ay~

Gen feels his smile turn mischievous, “Oh, what a great friend-ay you are to root for them! Tell me, do you want some advice-ay to set them up? I can share my vast romantic knowledge with you, Senku dear, and they will get together-ay in a heartbeat!” He chirps, clasping his hands together to form a little heart, but Senku-chan unexpectedly waves him off.

“Nah, I'm sure they’ll figure it out: Taiju might be a bit slow in that department but he is way too determined to let her go without confessing; guess I’ll just have to wait some more.” The boy chuckles, and Gen blinks, surprised.

“Honestly,” he starts, tilting his head in genuine curiosity, “I thought the great Senku-sensei would have wanted to get to the optimal-ay result as quickly as possible; I did not think you were one for waiting when you could do something about it.”

Senku-chan just huffs at his words, “Waiting is a fundamental part of science: rushing a reaction could cause it to nullify or, worse, escalate to a dangerous degree. The best thing one can do, at times, is simply observe the natural development of the subject: that’s how love should be.”

Then, Senku-chan scrunches his nose, “Or, at least, that’s what Byakuya told me when I was seven and I accidentally outed one of his colleague’s crush in front of the whole student council.”

“You what!?” He finds himself blurting out before he can stop himself, laughing wholeheartedly at the sheepish expression the other makes, “Yeah, not my coolest moment…” Senku-chan huffs as he tells him the hilarious story; then, his smile turns somber, “Still,” the boy says while looking at him in the eyes, “by the end of the night Byakuya explained to me that it is not my place to interfere in other people’s love, especially if things are naturally moving on their own.”

He chuckles, a soft expression on his face, “I trust they’ll figure it out together on their own, at their own pace.”

At those words– Gen blinks.

That’s rather… profound-ay…

From what he had seen of Ishigami Byakuya earlier that night he had assumed the man was a rather high spirited, joyful soul, teasing and joking all the time and actually creating a rather hilarious-ay contrast next to his son… but it seems like the man is much more interesting then Gen had given him credit for.

How nice, he thinks, and the smile tilting his lips is genuine, seems like both Ishigami’s are much sweeter than I previously assumed~

And yet, when the teen mischievously challenges him– he huffs, childishly crossing his arms with a loud cry of –I’ll show you, Senku-chan!

It’s useless, really: the boy had done well earlier, Gen finds himself thinking, but in a game like this he is the one who’ll come out winning; yet, when he goes to finish his analysy– his own voice dimmers, suddenly hesitant:

Maybe… he should not bring that up…

But when Senku-chan just raises an eyebrow at him, telling him to just spit it out– he finishes, careful, “...you are adopted.”

Luckily, the younger boy simply huffs amusedly, “That's why you hesitated? It's not really rocket science and it’s a rather fair assumption considering you have seen Byakuya and I standing next to each other; not the first one to figure it out, you trashy mentalist.”

Gen’s body imperceptibly relaxes after hearing the other’s calm response, “Silly Senku-chan,” he starts, “I am aware-ay not all types of albinism are hereditary–” he puts his hands on his hips, “but oculocutaneous albinism is: sure, it could have ipped-skay your dad, but, even if it did, the two of you don’t share-ay any of the physical traits blood father-son should have, like one-bay structure or hair line shape; I know that much!”

And know he does.

Senku-chan’s brows shot up, “Well damn, I’m surprised you know so much about it, the majority of the people who meet me are familiar with albinism but you are the first one to actually know about the details of the condition. Gotta say I’m a little impressed.”

Oh dear, he thinks, smiling brightly as the boy compliments him, you have no idea-ay…

Their chat is stimulating, enjoyable and interesting and, even when Senku shuts down his claim of victory with a childish you didn’t win, it’s a tie–  I said nuh-uh!– Gen still smiles: because he is having fun.

Senku-chan, he realizes, is fun.

Not in a pretending or frivolous way but in a genuinely interesting and brain stimulating one: the boy is frank and straightforward, sometimes even down right brash, but he is natural, he is genuine.

And greatest mentalist who ever lived Asagiri Gen doesn’t get that often.

I wish we could keep going forever– his traitorous mind births; he bats the thought away as soon as he registers it:

Don’t be ridiculous, Gen, he chastises himself, just be glad you got this much…

But it’s okay: the night is still young and they have quite a bit more ime-tay before they have to leave!

That’s false, though, because while playing and chatting and teasing… well, time has passed and a great amount at that: when Ishigami Byakuya comes back to get his son so they can leave–

Gen can’t stop himself, “Well,” he starts, catching Senku-chan’s attention before the boy can step away, “maybe if we were able to contact each other again-ay we won’t have to decide now and settle on a tie, which would also give us more ime-tay to discuss it calmly and proclaim the rightful winner…” he trails off, a careful expression on his face as his fingers raise to move his hair out of his eyes.

Senku-chan blinks, surprised, “...are you suggesting we exchange phone numbers?” He raises his eyebrows skeptically, “I thought celebrities like you didn’t do that.”

Of course, Gen’s mind supplies as his heart plummets in disappointment, I should have seen that-ay coming… 

His walls rise back up, cursing himself for letting his emotions get the best of him when he knows better, giving the other a small, practiced smile and salutation as he steps away–

He doesn’t get far, though: there’s a hand around his arm stopping him from leaving and, when the younger boy embarrassedly mumbles something along the lines of I wasn’t refusing, I was just surprised– Gen’s heart flies to his throat; when Senlku-chan looks at him with those incredible eyes of his, adding a resolute, “I don’t have my phone on me but you can still tell me your number: I’ll remember it.”–

Gen’s face breaks into a radiant smile.

It’s a while later when, in the privacy of the small motel room he had rented for the night, he finally checks his phone:

Unknown number, 00.12:

Senku Ishigami here

The simple, practical message makes him giggle as he flops onto his futon; the place he is spending the night in is just a few minutes away from the Villa they were at, still in the Saitama prefecture, a small comfortable place he had spotted when checking the area.

He could have driven back home… but might as well enjoy the stay, since he is here: he has a couple of days off and he has every intention to pay a visit to the local Chichibu-Tama-Kai National Park he has planned to visit.

He unties his kimono and obi, setting them aside as he answers the message:

Me, 00.23:

With a text like that, I had no doubt it was you, Senku dear! Hope you haven’t saved my contact under “Bogus magician” or something like that, or I’ll be ad-may~

Then, he stands to go wash up quickly; it’s few minutes before he realizes he already got an answer:

Unknown number, 00.23:

Eheh, there’s still a chance you gave me a fake number, you fraud. Jokes on you though, I have yet to save it, so thanks for the suggestion.

(¬ᴗ ´¬ )

Ah, how ude-ray! He thinks to himself, huffing softly, but he is smiling, This boy is so ude-ray!

Me, 00.29:

Meany, so meany! Admit it, you actually enjoy pestering me!

(つ >A<)つ

Senku-chan truly is something… but he can’t help it, not really: changing into his pajamas, he finally flops back on to his futon, grinning mischievously as he grabs his phone:

Me, 00.35:

Can’t wait for you to finally admit I’m the winner~

Until then, I suggest you look up Freud-chan's works like I told you to, or do you want to make it easy for me, mmh?

“Time for the final blow-ay~” he sings-sangs to himself, hitting a few keys– before pressing send:

Me, 00.35:

Have a good night, Senku-chan~

( ˆ ³ ˆ)~♡

When the little text check becomes blue but no message follows, he smiles, satisfied, comfortably laying under the covers as he turns off the lights, already imagining the other’s embarrassed face:

Oh, Senku-chan, you are too easy-ay~

He’ll win their debate, he is sure, and he’s also gonna get some enjoyment out of it: for he is the greatest mentalist alive, and one simple science nerd will not be the one to wear him down.

He is sure.

As expected, he was right:

Senku-chan, 13.07:

Alright I admit it, you fraud, you won the game yesterday.

Senku-chan, 13.11:

Do not make it go to your head.

(¬⤙¬ )

Gen smiles, covering a soft chuckle with his hand as he passes through the Mitsumine Shrine entrance:

Me, 14.15:

I knew you’d recognize my incredible-ay talent dear, sooner or later~

(˶  ᵔ ₃ ᵔ ˶)✌︎︎

Me, 14.16:

Seems like looking up dear Freud-chan’s works DID indeed prove me right… don’t worry dear it’s okay to be wrong ometimes-say~

Don’t take it to heart~

╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

Gen cackles softly to himself, turning off his phone and putting it into his bag before looking at the quiet woods around him, taking a deep breath of fresh air, “Alright dear, time to enjoy some nature~”

Finally, some peace~

That night, back to his Tokyo apartment and applying some soothing balm to his newly acquired blisters caused by his newly bought ankle boots, he wonders why the ell-ay he thought hiking was ever a good idea:

I am a man made for the ity-cay!–

Huffing and whining as he flops onto his sofa, hair still damp from the shower and wearing his oftest-say pajama set, he finally unlocks his phone, only to find a string of texts:

Senku-chan, 14.32:

I did not say I was incorrect, you fraud, I only said you won the challenge, not the debate: there is still too much you have left out of the discussion and too many factors you have “ummarized-say because I don’t want to ore-bay you, Senku-chan” to make a valuable, substantial analysis.

Senku-chan, 14.34:

Then, not only that, but from what I know the Oedipus complex we talked about yesterday ends after the latency period/ latency stage (depending on the translation), so what you said makes little sense.

Senku-chan, 14.35:

…I believe.

Senku-chan, 17.07:

Okay I looked it up and MAYBE some of what you said was true. But just some.

Senku-chan, 17.08:

…though I admit the amount of materials I found online was rather scarce, so if there’s something else I missed that’s because of lack of information. Not because I’m wrong.

Senku-chan, 18.39:

If you have some textbooks to recommend I’d like to prove my point, you great psychologist.

Senku-chan, 18.40:

Fake* psychologist!

(¬`‸´¬)

Gen burst out laughing, covering his mouth quickly before his spit can go flying through the room, barely managing to prevent himself from falling to the floor as he wriggles around, losing it; it takes him a couple of minutes before he manages to still long enough to safely hold his phone back:

Senku-chan is too cute! So adorable-ay~

He looks at the long string of messages before grinning teasingly, sliding his finger on the screen so to respond to a specific text:

Senku-chan, 18.39:

If you have some textbooks to recommend I’d like to prove my point, you great psychologist.

⤷ Me, 20.12:

  I am indeed a great psychologist dear, thank you for your kind words~

◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

Then, his smile softens in front of the honesty in the other’s texts: Senku-chan is a bit prideful, a bit cocky, yet he’s always one to admit when he is wrong or lacks knowledge, something that Gen has realized probably ten minutes into their first conversation.

He holds his phone to his chest, pondering: this is an opening and a rather great one at that, to keep talking to the younger boy…

C’mon Asagiri, he says to himself as he grabs his phone back, it’s okay, it’s just a friendly chitchat with a little nerd, nothing ary-scay~

Me, 20.15:

And why of course, dear! I have a few ooks-bay I can recommend if you’d like… though I also volunteer to explain them to you so to prove why I’m right~

(*ᴗ͈ ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

It’s okay, really, how long can this debate really drag on, right?

Right?

***

Five weeks later, Gen has to embarrassally admit that he might have taken the whole deal a bit too lightly.

How infuriating-ay!

Chatting with dear Senku-chan is rather endearing, though, so aybe-may he won't be too hard on himself: the two of them have come to a conclusion to their original debate five days after Senku-chan’s first inquiring, though all those hours spent chatting and researching had open at least four new points of disagreement neither of them had the humility to concede to the other:

If i’m not ong-wray, I won’t admit to anything!

Then, things have naturally spiraled, chats going from scientific debates and social deconstruction of modern societies to harsh training regimes-ray and nosy science teachers who won’t allow me to use the biology lab for an experiment–

Well, they are having fun, overall; he thinks.

At least Gen is.

They are currently debating about immersive 3D simulations, user engagement and motor skill recovery, chatting and fighting and debating about who’s right and who’s wrong when–

Gen finger halts from where  he’s mindlessly scrolling through a couple of interesting studies, killing some time as he waits for rehearsal time to start:

Oh? How marvelous~ he thinks, smiling to himself as he hits copy link, opening his texting app and tapping one a specific contact:

Me, 11.03:

So, Senku-chan, remember when we made that un-fay bet you SWEARED you were going to win? Check this out~

*Attached link*

Me, 11.04:

Guess who was right and who was rong-way, dear… you owe me an ice cream now~

( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ )

How un-fay, he chuckles to himself, turning off his phone when his manager calls for him, I’m ure-say dear Senku-chan will absolutely-ay hate that~

It’s lunch time when he checks his phone again:

Senku-chan, 12.27:

C’mon mentalist, it was all a matter of possibility, we both had a 50% chance to get it wrong.

(¬⤙¬ )

He chuckles, tutting to himself as he bites into his onigiri, holding his phone with his other hand:

Me, 12.29:

Mmh, perhaps… but who is it that DID get it right, dear? Me~

〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜

Senku-chan, 12.29:

Shut up.

(≖_≖)

The instant answer has him laughing outloud, chomping down the last couple of bites as he amusedly turns off his phone and goes back to his duties when his make up artist waves him over, sending the older woman a gentle tilt of his lips:

Sorry Senku-chan, I’ll have to make you wait-ay~

He can’t be seen text back that quickly, after all, heaven forbid something was to be read between the lines...

It’s several hours later than, after a refreshing shower, he turns his phone back on as he flops onto the bed of his hotel room in Kyoto, finally relaxing after a strenuous day of rehearsals and training sessions:

Senku-chan, 12.39:

When do you get back, so I can get you that ice-cream? Let’s do it quickly, I don't want to hear you whine like you always do.

(¬_ ´¬ )

His eyes shot open and he absentmindedly nimbles on a hangnail, considering: he could play it off, changing the subject and avoiding the commitment he roped himself to… yet he is hesitant to do so: he kinda misses the other, if he has to be honest to himself, and this would be a nice opportunity to see him again, yet he is not sure if–

Oh, c’mon Asagiri, he frowns to himself, pressing a few keys, you can’t be ard-scay of a little science gremlin boy! Where is your mentalist pride at–

So, he hits send:

Me, 18.12:

First thing first, I don’t whine, Senku-meany!

ᕙ( ᗒᗣᗕ )ᕗ

Me, 18.12:

Second thing second, I’ll be back from Kyoto in two ays-day, dear! I’ll collect my prize then~

I want double whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles!

(๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

He’s hesitant but he won’t yield: Senku-chan might have his charm and all, but he should know better than test him; grinning evilly to himself, he quickly shares a google maps location, adding a flourish let’s meet over here, dear! 

Eheh, he thinks to himself, this is gonna be un-fay~

Senku-chan’s face when Miri-chan calls him Asagiri-sama is a sight to behold, and he manages to contain his laughter just long enough to guide them to their table before he loses it, basically folding in half and earning himself a pointy kick to the shins.

So worthy-ay~

He knows he’s a bit of an imp, a bit of a tease, yet when Senku-chan makes fun of his superb driving skills –really, what does this boy have against him!– his more mischievous side comes out, grinning widely as MIri-chan comes to take their orders, “I’ll show you worth it, Senku-chan…”

If Senku-chan wants to play with ire-fay, he should be eady-ray for it~

Challenge accepted.

“Ah, this looks so asty-tay~” he hums excitedly, taking a few pictures of the amazing-ay gelato cup in front of him, barely containing his eagerness to finally enjoy his treat– when Senku-chan’s pointed comment about his order has him shaking his head in disappointment.

He’s not gonna mind it, though, because he’s pretty ure-say Senku-chan doesn’t mean it that way.

He’ll eat whatever he likes, diet be damned.

He finally goes for it, raising his spoon filled with that creamy delight, tasting its wonderful aroma on his tongue, happily humming to himself– when Senku-chan’s voice breaks him out of his sugary trance, “What are you doing?”

Gen looks at the other, confused, “Mmh? What do you ean-may?” He asks, swallowing his bite behind his open palm; the younger boy frowns, pointing at him, “That, with your hand, why are you covering your face like that?”

He blinks once in confusion– before realization hits; Gen tilts his head, making his long, dark bangs sway, “Ah, sorry dear, it's just force of habit, a little ecaution-pray I take for social media,“ he finds himself pouting, mood souring as he adds, “you’d be surprised how many eople-pay love to make nasty photoshops and cut outs of elebrities-cay eating food…”

Far too many really: the years he has spent in the industry have taught him a lot of things, whether he liked it or not: sometimes he had been spared from the harsh reality while others… well, let’s say he is very glad of all the social and linguistic skills in his arsenal.

The mentalist might have come out winning, but Asagiri Gen had still suffered the burns.

The other just stares at him in silence for a few seconds and Gen tilts his head in question, opening his mouth to ask him what’s wrong-ay when–

“But it's just the two of us here, though?”

When Senku-chan’s words register– Gen blinks, surprised, unexpectedly at a loss for words:

That’s– he’s–

He stares at the younger and he feels his heart melt fondly; it’s only a second of hesitation before he answers gently, “You are rather ight-ray about that dear,” he tilts his head, “don’t take it to heart, Senku-chan, it just a matter of habit, I’ll top-say now~” he says, smiling kindly at the other.

When Senku-chan’s own face softens, though, Gen grins, “Or does Senku-chan perhaps want to watch me eat my icecream?” He lifts the spoon filled with creamy, melting gelato to his lips, “I had no idea Senku-chan was that type of guy~”

When the teen abruptely throws the menu at him, choking on his spit and ears glowing red, Gen laughs so hard he startles the bunnies away:

You are so ute-cay, Senku-chan dear~

An hour later, petting his dear Oreo-chan while sitting on the floor as Senku-chan mindlessly scratches dear Bunbun-chan’s velvety soft, floppy ears, Gen finds himself smiling a real, joyful smile, joking and laughing and chatting with the other boy.

Asagiri Gen is a master mentalist, a great manipulator and an irrefutably skilled psychologist: he is able to read others like they were open books, puppeting them into doing whatever he wants and discerning their most hidden secrets.

He is good at what he does, undeniably so.

So, when he finds himself dreading to leave Senku-chan’s company, he instantly knows:

Oh dear, he finds himself thinking as he flourishly waves the teen good bye, oh dear, what did I get myself into…

Asagiri Gen is a master mentalist, and he can’t deny evidence when he sees it:

I’m so utterlay-ay fucked.

***

Gen’s so fucked: he nods, a fake little understanding smile on his face as the handyman in front of him informs him that there was a leakage somewhere under the stage, son, and I’m not really sure how long it will take me to fix it–

How utal-bray…

Lady Luck is definitely not favouring him, lately.

Mmh, he wonders why.

He sits on one of the comfy theater chairs in the room, huffing annoyedly as he crosses his arm and lousily throws his tote bag on the seat next to his, pouting deeply and trying to figure out what to do now, annoyed that he drove through half the city to get to the location only to find out there’s nothing he can do– when a pin lights up his phone.

Grabbing the pesky device that had managed to slide out of his bag, he turns it on:

Senku-chan, 18.07:

Hey mentalist, are you busy? I’ve got a favor to ask you...

He blinks, reading the text chain, before raising his gaze and taking in the absolute mess of the studio in front of him.

Senku-chan, you are my aviour-say~

He looks back down at the screen, smiling excitedly:

Me, 18.09:

I’ll be there in 15, Senku-chan!

Big miscalculation, really; he should have seen it coming:

 “This is not exactly what I imagined you meant when you said you needed a ide-ray, Senku-chan—” Gen shrieks, carefully eyeing the he is not even sure what the heck that is— haphazardly perched on his back seat.

“You are sure it’s not, like, going to explode or anything, right!?”

The teen at his side chuckles evilly, doing a down right perfect impression of a mad scientist, making him squeak as he carefully switches lanes; then, the younger speaks, “Thank you for the ride, mentalist, you were the only one I could think of who I could ask…”

Oh Senku-chan, he thinks mischievously as he smirks, you really do be serving them on a silver platter~ 

He bats his eyes, “Ah, I see how it is, how bold! How onward-fay of you, dear, inviting me back to your house, with no adults around and without even taking me out for dinner first~”

The younger curses at him, cheeks reddening and mumbling an annoyed I was planning to treat you to some ramen as a thank you, but now you ain’t getting anything, you damn bastard– 

It’s useless though: if Senku-chan wants his help, he’ll need to give him proper compensation.

Gen yips delightfully at the promise of food, happily steering his car around as the other mumbles something about retribution after hard work and handling delicate, dangerous machines–

When Senku-chan screams a loud –watch out!

Gen startles so hard he almost has them crushing into a pole.

“Senku-chan!” He shrieks as they exit the car, “Are you ad-may!? You almost had us ash-cray, that scared the shit out of me!” 

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” the boy deadpans, not even looking at him as he goes to grab the weird machine in the back of the car, “c’mon now, you bogus magician, let’s go.”

Mph, Gen thinks to himself as he helps his friend taking his weird fusor thingy upstairs, Senku-chan better be giving me some ery-vay tasty food or I’ll have him pay for the scare!

When the younger fishes his house keys out of his pockets and opens the door, a small mischievous smile tilts Gen’s lips:

Eheh Senku-chan, how ice-nay of you to let me in–

“Don’t you even think about it, you nosy bastard,” the teen says, turning towards him with a small frown before pointing to the comfy looking sofa in the middle of the room, “you are gonna sit there and behave while I put my stuff away and then, after I get out of my uniform we’ll go eating,” he puts his hands on his hips, “if I see you snooping around my house you are leaving with no food, are we clear?”

How ean-may, Gen pouts, whining offendedly as he sits down, Senku-chan is so ean-may to me!

He won’t push his luck, though, preferring waiting for the other than making a scene; still, that does not mean he won’t at least try to get some sort of material about the other, duh.

It’d be a huge missed opportunity otherwise.

The room around him is clearly lived in, with a couple of scuffs on the walls and on the tatami floor, and the furniture looks well taken care of even if it's obvious it’s not brand new: a family home in every aspect.

Nothing like his own old one, always impeccable and without even a single spec of dust around, with the latest furniture and trendy but uncomfortable display pillows he was not even allowed to sit on–

Nope, dear brain-chan, he frowns, we are not going there-ay…

Senku-chan’s house is very pretty, simple but functional and clearly well loved, with nick-nacks laying around and a few family pictures on the walls–

Oh?

He looks behind himself, checking the door separating the living area from the sleeping one, “Stay put for a while onger-lay, Senku-chan dear~” he hums softly before quickly and quietly standing up to look at the photos.

There’s a few of them, all picturing sweet, fun moments of the Ishigami’s life: one of them depicts Senku-chan and his father at the top of Mount Fuji, both of them in track wear as they pose for the selfie– or, well, Ishigami-san poses, because Senku-chan looks three steps away from passing out from exhaustion.

The sight makes him giggle softly:

Senku-chan truly is not athletic-ay at all~

He looks at another one, a cute one of Ishigami-san making peace signs at the camera as he smiles brightly; the picture is clearly dated and the camera angle is a bit crooked, as if the photo had been taken from below:

Oh my god, did tiny Senku-chan take this one? How utterly ute-cay!

There’s a few more, among which he can also see a brunette, tall boy with a bright smile and imposing but kind presence and a short girl with big, brown eyes and a soft smile –Taiju-chan and Yuzuriha-chan, his mind supplies– posing together with Senku-chan at what seems to be their middle school graduation party.

And then his friend at his sixteen birthday, and one of him and his father under the Nasa entrance sign, and another of Senku-chan in a khaki safari suit lazily sitting on a quad in the middle of is that the Savana-ay? What the hell–

How is this boy’s life even real!?

Ah, how adorable-ay! He squeaks, stepping closer to observe the last picture: it’s baby Senku-chan, around four or five years old, proudly sitting on his father’s shoulders as the two of them smile brightly at the camera, dressed in traditional winter yukatas and clearly out for a festival celebration.

Oh my, baby Senku-chan was so sweet-ay… oh, but he still looks like a little anace-may!

He’s about to move, casually looking around and efinitely-day not snoop– when the sound of approaching steps startles him, “Alright, you fraud, I’m ready, now we can leave.”

When Senku-chan enters the room again, Gen is peacefully sitting on the sofa, innocently smiling at him as he stands up, “Okie, dokie lokie, dear, let’s go~”

The teen eyes him suspiciously but Gen’s affable smile doesn’t waver: he’s too good to be discovered that quickly; when Senku-chan turns to put on his shoes, the older boy’s smile turns a bit sharper, a bit more amused:

What Senku-chan doesn’t know won’t ill-kay him~ 

“This place is really good, Senku honey~ I’m impressed!” He says from where he is sitting at the ramen shop’s stall as he chews on his promised sweet treat; Senku-chan scoffs at his tease, ears pinking and mumbling something about of course it is, you fraud, where did you think I was bringing you–

Yua-san’s innocent pinching of Senku-chan’s cheek earlier had been unexpected, but Gen is not one to be caught off guard: that was incredible teasing material and his friend will soon regret bringing him here tonight~

Oh well, Gen finds himself thinking as Senku-chan tells him about his relationship with the elder couple, I’m feeling ice-nay today, so maybe I won’t tease him too much… or not~

“How cute!” He chirps, “That’s why Yua-san treats you like a grandson-of-honor! Oh, how can I imagine baby Senku-chan perched on these stools enjoying a warm bowl of ramen! How adorable-ay~”

The teen, in answer, huffs a laugh, ”Cut it out, you bastard, you act as if that’s something azy-cray,” he mocks his way of speaking, “what, no one ever did that to you?” 

At the younger boy’s carelessly said words, Gen’s smile freezes, his poker face instinctively rising as his fingers twitch minutely: that hit closer than expected.

Because it’s been literal years since someone cooked for him, and he can’t remember the last time anyone pinched his cheeks or held him in their lap–

It’s okay, he thinks to himself, smiling brightly at Senku-chan when the boy turns with questioning look at his sudden silence, you are okay Gen–

Senku-chan looks worried for a second there and that absolutely won’t do, so Asagiri Gen, the greatest mentalist who ever lived, does what he does best: he grins, hiding the truth, pushing those unwanted memories down, locking them back in the little mental box he keeps them in, keeps them away.

His voice is teasing and pouty, with an underlying flirty timber which will surely distract the other long enough to forget, long enough not to worry, not to ask.

Long enough so he himself can pretend everything is okay.

When Senku-chan, after his little tease, flicks a piece of paper at him and stands up to pay and leave–

Asagiri Gen lets out a trembling exhale.

Then the mentalist smiles, and everything is fine once more.

“Panick attacks, you say?” Gen tilts his head, looking at the other curiously, “Where does this udden-say interest come from, Senku-chan? Coming to me instead of looking it up online, are you finally admitting to my uperior-say mentalism skills? How attering-flay!” he bats his eyes at the other, who snorts in response.

The two of them are currently walking downtown after stopping for a boba tea at dear Miri-chan’s shop, heading for the train station, dodging hurried passerbyes and slow walking grannies alike.

“Shush it,” the younger huffs, bumping their shoulders together, “I was just curious: I saw someone having one at school this morning and they bolted so fast they almost slammed against the classroom door.” He sticks a pinky in his ear, looking down and frowning, “Guess I was just wondering if I could have helped or something, I don’t know…”

Gen feels the tease leave his body completely at such words, gently observing the other with a little proud, knowing look: Senku-chan might act tough and cool, loudly proclaiming that he does what he does because it’s convenient or logical, but Gen knows just how caring and kind the other boy is, always doing everything in his power to help others in any way he can.

He smiles fondly, raising his sleeves to hide it before the other can see.

“There’s ittle-lay one can do about it Senku-chan,” he tilts his head again, “it’s a moment of great distress, where your brain is drowning in cortisol and being overwhelmed by stress signals: not only that, if the attack happens in ublic-pay, the subject could have even harsher reaction due to feelings like shame and mortification, a mix between personal dignity and social pressures.”

He twirls his long, black bangs around a finger, “I’d personally wish the ground would open beneath my eet-fay and swallow me up before something like that could happen— not that it ever would, of course! I’m the greatest mentalist who ever lived, after all~!” Gen exclaims with a flourish smile, sticking his tongue out at the other when Senku snorts mockingly, “Regardless of that, though, the best thing one can do is be compassionate, careful but strong, offering comfort and being someone the troubled person can rely on in their moment of need.”

Gen pouts innocently at the other boy, “Don’t orry-way Senku-chan, I’ll be gentle if you’ll ever need me!”

The shove his tease earns him is expected, yet Gen has to thank his well trained balance so not to accidentally bump into a little stall at the side of the road; Senku-chan hastily grabs his shoulder, pulling him back, “Shit, sorry, mentalist,” the boy says when Gen finds his footing back, “my bad, I didn't mean to push that hard.”

At his friend's awkward frown, he smiles, “Don’t orry-way, dear, no harm done!” He reassures him before turning toward the vendor, an older woman with long, graying hair and a gentle smile, “Please forgive us for almost bumping into your stall, obaa-san,” he says, bowing –and prompting the younger boy to do so too– but the woman just smiles wider, “It’s okay dear, are you alright?”

When Gen chirps a happy I’m okay, lady~ the vendor waves them closer, “Tell me dears, would you like a taiyaki? I’ll make you kids some fresh ones, with original anko filling!” She smiles, bright and happy, already prepping some dough without even waiting for their answers.

Gen has to give it to her:

She really knows how to turn a situation into profit… what an absolute-ay diva.

Still.

He’s about to turn the offer down when Senku-chan speaks, sticking a pinky into his ear, “I’m kinda hungry, actually, so I’m down for it,” he says before turning to meet the older boy’s eyes, “treat’s on me if you want one: consider it payback for offering the drinks earlier, you fraud.”

Fraud!? How rude!

He crosses his arms petulantly, “I’m not a fraud, Senku-chan stop being mean!” He whines, yet when the lady hands the teen his fuming taiyaki, Gen waves his hands in front of himself, “Ah, thank you for the offer dear, baa-chan, but I fear I’ll have to pass this one~” he sing-sangs, smiling brightly; inside, he is cringing though:

Too any-may people around, Senku-chan dear, orgive-fay me~

By the pointed look Senku-chan throws at him as he pays for his snack, Gen is sure he’ll hear about it again, soon or later: the teen has taken this habit of his like a personal challenge.

It’s sweet, eally-ray, Gen’s heart flickers in his chest, Senku-chan is eally-ray sweet…

Yet Asagiri Gen won’t yield: the stakes are too high.

***

Senku-chan is late.

Well, Gen thinks as he looks around, that is a irst-fay…

He is waiting for the younger boy outside of the library they decided to meet at and he’s weirdly perplexed by the teen’s lateness, since this is not something really in character for his friend to do.

When a tuft of white hair peaking from a nearby shop window catches his attention, Gen tilts his head curiously, walking closer: it’s a hardware shop, cool and manly and with a big sale sign hung to its entrance and little bright orange discount stickers on the displayed merchandise; his friend is in there, so he gets inside.

His feet are quiet as he opens the door and he’s glad he didn’t make much noise, for Senku-chan seems to be in the middle of a quarrel with the vendor, an older man with greying hair and wide shoulders: his friend is scowling deeply while the owner has a little patronizing, insolent smile on his face that makes Gen’s shuckles rise instinctively; when the older man says something along the lines of what would a kid like you even need that for? You look like you don’t even know how to turn it on–

Gen’s mood sours:

How oring-bay, he thinks, plastering a bright smile on his face, acting like a bully at his age? What a sad man–

He’s already here so… might as well get some entertainment out of it.

“Oh my, my! How wonderful!” He chirps loudly, startling the stranger and his friend alike, “This shop is perfect-pay, it has everything we need!”

When Senku-chan looks at him confusedly as the owner of the shop blinks, surprised, Gen’s smile brightens up: he snaps his eyes to… whatever is Senku-chan is holding, “Oh my! You finally found it! I can’t elieve-bay it, this shop truly is formidable! Oh, we can finally finish that oject-pray we are working on, our sensei will be so proud!”

Ignoring the way his friend’s eyes have widened in absolute confusion at his made up story, Gen turns toward the owner, wearing a oh so relieved expression as he bows slightly, “This is the fourth store we have isited-vay today, you kind sir, you literally saved us! This is wonderful news, thank you!”

The owner, whose eyes are looking at both of them up and down in surprise and curiosity, blushes bashfully at Gen’s heartfelt thanks, “Uh, sure thing…” the man mumbles, “what do you kids even need that for? Not to, uh, pry or anything but you two don’t really look like…”

How sad, Gen’s smile brightens even more, must his life be to be this prejudiced…

He brings a hand to his mouth, muffling a dainty laugh, “Ah, don’t orry-way sir, we know what we are doing! We need this tool for a school project, I’m so glad you had it in stock!” Then, he turns towards Senku-chan, smiling brightly and beckoning him closer to the counter, “Coming here was a eat-gray idea, dear, good thing you remembered to check this incredible-ay shop out, we never would have made it otherwise!” He chirps, untangling Senku-chan’s fingers from around the …infrared thermometer? What the uck-fay–  before handing it to the man to scan.

When the owner perplexedly grabs it, looking absolutely lost in front of Gen’s whirlwind of praise and kindness– the mentalist smiles:

Time for the coup de grâce~

So, Gen grasps the man’s hands around the box, wearing his most grateful expression, eyes bright and cheeks red as he utters, “Thank you sir,” a smile, and the man’s eyes bulge, “we never could have done it without you! You are amazing-ay!”

And the man–

The man blushes, laughing wholeheartedly as he finally lets their merch through, “Ah-ah, no need to thank me, son! Please forgive this old man’s prying, I was very rude earlier… here,” he exclaims as he scans Senku-chan’s item, “Let this old man say sorry: you said you kids are university students, right? Well, this product is not technically on sale but I’ll discount you a good ten percent, as an apology!”

Gen’s eyebrows shot up as he lets out a loud gasp, “What, eally-ray? You don’t have to sir, it was no problem!” He exclaims in fake delight but the vendor just dismissively waves a hand at them, tapping something on the register’s screen before amusedly asking them card or cash?

When it’s obvious his friend is still too stunned to move, Gen acts:

Senku-chan, don’t be ad-may~ he thinks as he hands the vendor a credit card; yes, a credit card, because this pesky, cute little blue one is efinitely-day not his: when Senku-chan’s eyes widen and he starts feeling his pockets for his wallet–

Gen just sends him an innocent smile.

Thirty seconds later, finally stepping out of the store with a shop bag in hand and waving at the vendor as the man tells them to make sure you study hard, kids– Gen realizes that his friend has not said a word in a while.

Turning around to meet the younger’s eyes, he has to fight back a smile at the boy’s gaping mouth, passing his friend the shop bag as he serenely tilts his head; when Senku-chan looks at him in a mixture between genuine amazement and terrified admiration–

Gen winks at him:

He is called the greatest mentalist who ever lived for a reason, after all~

Finding out Ishigami Byakuya is dating world wide famous popstar Lillian Weinberg should not have surprised him.

That’s not true, actually, because what the actual-ay fuck–

What really should not have surprised him was Senku-chan’s terrible attempt at smoothing things over, having them all sit around the Ishigami family table to enjoy some food and sticking his pinky in his ear like the absolute gremlin he is while muttering a flat you guys don’t have to act like that, it’s not like anyone did something bad–

It should have even surprised him less when the boy absolutely-ay threw him under the bus, completely disregarding Ishigami-san’s poor attempt to explain Lillian Weinberg’s presence at their house; Senku-chan is right, though: no one would have ever bought that, Byakuya-chan, please for the love of od-gay find some better excuses, this is a huge eal-day–

Still, he has to admit that eating all together as Senku-chan’s papa tells him eat-gray stories about his friend is a rather fantastic way to spend his night: the Ishigami’s household is rather welcoming, even to someone like him:

A stranger.

How nice, he thinks to himself, amusedly smiling at Byakuya-chan’s story, so this is what a real amily-fay feels like…

He really ike-lay them and they like him back, at least enough for Byakuya-chan to give him his phone number for in case of emergencies, you know, dear? Please keep an eye out for my son while I’m away, I trust you!

They are fun and nice.

Still, let’s say that he rather would have spared himself the sight of Byakuya-chan and Lillian-chan, ahem, scandalous position: they are welcoming and extremely kind to him, that’s for sure, but he thinks barely three weeks of knowing them is a tad bit to soon-ay to learn about the couple’s… habits.

Senku-chan’s face is almost worth the embarrassment, though.

Now, sitting in his friend’s bedroom, chatting as the boy goes through some of his science-y materials, looking for something, Gen’s mouth drops open, “The what?” He basically screams, almost falling off the chair he’s perched on, “Wedding? They are getting married?"

When Senku-chan just blinks confusedly at him, raising a brow as he has the ucking-fay audacity to utter I thought that the greatest mentalist who ever lived did not need me to spell things out for him–

Gen almost throws the pen holder on the desk at his head.

How rude of me! He thinks to himself, whining loudly when the younger makes fun of him, I was so inconsiderate-ay! I should totally-tay go give them my congratulations–

“Nah,” Senku-cha says, sticking a pinky in his ear, “after what you saw today you owe them nothing, ever.”

The deadpan is so in character, so predictable, and yet he can’t stop it: his lungs spasm at the unexpected joke, air pushing fast through his nose and making that unflattering sound he hates so much; when Senku-chan’s eyes widen in surprise, Gen’s hand flies to his face: 

Oh no, he thinks, brain running fast, looking for an excuse, a cover, anything–

“Did you–” Senku-chan starts, surprised, “Did you just snort?

Gen, lowering his hand back down to rest demurely on his leg, gives him a small, patronising smile, “I have no idea-ay what you are talking about Senku-chan, I fear your poor ears-ay went through an explosion too many, you are starting to hear things-ay~”

He plays cool but, inside, his mind is roaring:

Oh shit, he panics, oh god, oh no, did he hear that–?

“Oi, oi, I heard you right you mentalist,” Senku-chan stands up, “oh my god, are you a snorter?” 

When Gen instinctively shakes his head, imperceptibly clenching his jaw, the teen beams, “This is incredible news! Forget any other future black mail threat, you charlatan, I got the real tea now!”

“Senku-chan!”

“This is one billion percent the best day of my life.”

“Senku-chan!”

His cheeks tint slihty and he opens his mouth, trying to come up with an excuse, only to see his friend's radiant expression split into an evil little grin, “I gotta tell everyone.”

Gen feels his face fall, “...you wouldn’t dare.”

He wouldn’t, ight-ray? No, c’mon, he’s just messing with me, he is not that much of a gremlin–

Big underestimation, Asagiri.

The challenging smirk the teen gives him is all the warning the older boy gets before the other promptly sprints out of his room, door thrown open as he screams Byakuya, Lillian, you have no idea what I just found out–

Gen jumps up then, running after his friend and barely managing to catch him, grabbing the teen’s shirt as the two tumble on the sofa, and Gen can’t help it:

This is ridiculous-ray! He thinks to himself, laughing loudly as he tries to cover Senku-chan’s mouth with a hand, This guy truly is a real emlin-gray! Mean, so mean–

When two nimble but strong hands tickle his sides, he feels his own laughter intensify and, when another small snort leaves him–

Asagiri Gen just smiles.

***

Gen absolute-ay regrets every choice that led him here.

When he had received an invitation from Senku-chan to come over, the young scientist claiming that he needed someone to aid him with an experiment, the older boy had downright refused to participate until he got more information: only when the scientist had explained he just needed him to stay still and that the job was not dangerous or strenuous at all had the magician finally accepted to help.

Well.

Needless to say Senku-chan had absolutely lied: it’s true he hadn’t had to carry heavy objects or handle dangerous materials, but what he had to do was definitely not not strenuous, in his very humble opinion: so here he is now, holding a goddamn “Vrschikasana” pose on the scientist’s tatami floor, his forearms holding his full body weight as his back bends over, toes just barely brushing the top of his head, shirtless and with various sticky sensors attached to his body.

He feels his cheeks redden and he knows it’s not the strain: this is so humiliating! 

Dammit my good heart and dammit Senku-chan!

He’ll have to plan his revenge accordingly.

When the science gremlin he calls his friend finally tells him he can stop, Gen flops back down, huffing when his poor back cracks; when he teases the younger boy and a pen flies to his head, he whines loudly from below, pouting at the other.

“That’s for spewing bullshit; had I known you had energy to tease me, I’d have you hold the position longer…now hush and lay still, I need to auscultate you. ” Senku-chan says, scooching closer and menacingly holding a stethoscope in hand.

Gen’s heart flies to his throat.

“Wait a second, Senku-chan, I thought I was done for today—” he tries to kneel up but the teen pushes him back onto the floor, “This is part of the experiment, I have to check your heart rate, so you have to lay down.”

Dread fills his body, making him tense, “H-hold up, Senku-chan, I don’t–”

“C’mon, what are you fussing for? Just stay still–” the younger says, forcing him back to the ground; when the cold metal of the stethoscope touches his skin and Senku-chan stills above him–

Gen panics: he pushes the other off of him, heart beating fast as he grabs his shirt, shuffling away; when the solid feel of the wall meets his back he stills, taking harsh intakes of breath, eyes unfocused as he feels everything around himself crumble .

He thinks Senku calls his name, voice careful and hesitant, yet he does not answer: he can’t feel his tongue.

Everything disappears, sounds, colors and sensations, and all that’s left is pure, unfiltered terror; instincts take over and he curls into a ball, hiding his face in his shirt as he gulps for air, his lungs spasming as his head goes numb, sending alarm signals to every nerve ending of his body.

When a hand unexpectedly lays on his knee–

He flinches.

A rush of memories runs through him, memories of harsh words and hard stares, of shoves and punitive silences, of days and nights spent alone, cast aside, kept away and ignored and cursed at for–

I’m a freak, he closes his eyes hard and he can’t think of anything, can't feel anything but the echo of those words, I’m a freak Senku-chan, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me–

He’s drowning in sorrows and longing, years and years of emotional build up exploding like a dormant vulcano casting its dark ashes everywhere and dimming sunlight, its glowing, hot cascades of lava running down its slope like his tears down his cheeks, burning and final.

Because he has done it, he has ruined it: the fragile cards castle he had meticulously crafted around himself has crumbled and, now, the other can see his ugliness, his horrors, and his breath comes out harsher, his eyes squeeze harder and then–

Darkness, abrupt, and then warmth at his side, solid and unwavering and oh so comforting, seeping into his tense body, into his locked joints, his erratic heart, a warmth so gentle, so caring, so… needed.

So craved.

The world starts coming back; there is something draped on his head, shielding him from the lights, rough in texture and made of a thick material, and the warmth seeping into him comes from another body, from a lanky, bony shoulder pressed into his own: Senku’s.

It’s Senku and his warmth, his comfort, his unwaveringness. 

Gen’s heartbeat slows into steady, purposeful pumps pushing blood to its body’s far ends, and he can finally feel his limbs again, and his fingers stop trembling, his head stops drowning, fear and dread leaving room for comfort, and affection and–

Oh.

Oh no, his now clear brain supplies as he uncurls, finally meeting his friend’s worried eyes, oh, now you have done it Gen…

He’s not talking about the outburst.

Still, the revelation is not enough from stopping him from cringing: he’s sitting half naked on the ground, using a labcoat as a shall, his make-up is probably ruined and he certainly looks ridiculous–

“Don’t worry,” Senku-chan whispers, half serious and half amused, moving his long bangs out of his face, “right now you look exactly like a baby panda, so I’d consider it a win in the cuteness department.”

The comforting words are so unexpected yet so gentle, so silly, so Senku, that the warmth around his heart somehow manages to seep even deeper, taking root.

Oh lord.

Senku-chan’s apology is not needed, yet he can’t really understand the amazing-ay feeling of liberation his whole self feels when the younger whispers a gentle I want you to know that whatever it is that scares you, I promise you it won’t make me look at you any differently: you managed to sneak your way in my life and settle in comfortably, so it’s be too late to get rid of you now…

When the other adds a teasing kinda like a worm– Gen still swats at him lightly, though: Senku-chan might be sweet but he is still a little gremlin.

Mph.

“Still,” Senku-chan speaks again, “I guess I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything you want, no judgement.”

Gen’s heart melt and, when the younger adds a petulant not that I’d ever even care about genetic quirks or what not, to be clear, I think that people who give a damn about shit like that are stupid as hell—

He can’t help it: he chuckles, hiding his tear-streaked face in his knees for a brief second as his body shakes, making the other stop his little rant; then Gen turns his head, keeping his temple resting on his knees and looking at Senku-chan sideway, meeting the boy’s oh so beautiful eyes, “Thank you, Senku,” he says, never once breaking eye contact, “I appreciate it, I really do.”

That’s the understatement of the century.

Oh lord, he thinks minutes later, gently washing his face off in the Ishigami house main bathroom and dabbing his smeared make-up off, oh lord, now you have done it Gen…

Checking his reflection in the mirror, he looks at his eyes or, more specifically, his lashes: his condition extends to them as well and, usually, he’d cover them up right away but…

Looking down at Lillian-chan’s adorable pink make-up bag, he eyes the long lasting mascara in it, pondering: he could cover them up like he always does, like he has been doing for almost a decade now, but…

He doesn’t want to.

He thinks about Senku-chan, who’s definitely cooking something for the two of them in the other room from where he can hear him shuffling around, and the earlier outburst almost makes Gen feel lighter: his friend had not left at the sight of his tears, had not looked at him in any way different, if not a bit in worry.

The memory has him chuckling softly, if not a little bitterly: Senku-chan is usually very composed regarding any feeling outside of his science gremlin mode, so seeing him genuinely preoccupied and regretful has been definitely a first.

He is so sweet, Gen thinks, making up his mind as he exits the bathroom, the sweetest gremlin ever~

Senku-chan is still uneasy, he can tell: the boy is acting casually, joking with him and teasing back, but he is sitting a bit stiffly and it’s obvious that his brilliant mind has not stopped running ever since they got out of his room, well over an hour ago; when the teen is so lost in his head he agrees to love anime magician Kaito-Kid 1412–

Gen makes up his mind, “Alright,” he starts, catching the other’s attention, “this is getting painful for both of us, so I’ll just say it: what happened today—”

He doesn’t get far: there’s a hand on his arm, successfully cutting him off and, when he meets Senku-chan’s careful eyes as his friend whispers you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, don’t feel… obliged to share anything to make me feel better, I’ll do my best not to let it happen again–

Gen makes up his mind and he won’t back away: 

Jump aboard before you iss-may the boat…

So he just smiles softly before nudging the teen’s leg with his slender knee, “I want to be fair to you, dear, so I'll tell you everything-ay starting from the beginning, because I haven’t been completely honest with you Senku-chan…” he trails off, looking down, gathering his thoughts and taking a deep breath, “do you remember the first time we met?” 

Senku-chan’s voice sounds a bit confused, “Uh, sure I do,” the boy says, tilting his head, “you weaseled your way into our conversation and tried buttering Nanami’s ass up, how could I forget.” He crosses his arms then, raising a brow at the other, “After that, you managed to make a fool out of me in front of everybody and then innocently smiled like nothing happened, you bastard.”

Gen huffs a small laugh, nudging the other’s leg harder at the insult, “Meany, Senku-chan!” 

Then you call me an imp, you gremlin!

He chuckles, “I did not approach you guys because I was interested in Nanami-san… I mean, he was my original arget-tay, but things had already changed by then,” he tilts his head, eyes shining bright as he says, “I didn’t approach you guys for Nanami-san but because I was interested in you, Senku dear.”

Senku-chan pauses, blinking confusedly as he raises a finger to point at himself, “Me? Why me?”

“C’mon Senku-chan, how did you not otice-nay! We even spent all night going over the guests…” Gen shakes his head at the teen’s dumbfounded face, “Dear, did you not realize that you were the youngest person present at the Gala?”

When the boy frowns, doing his I’m trying to remember something here— face, Gen tuts, “You and me, the two of us were the youngest-yay ones at the party, so of course you caught my attention, silly!” He tilts his head, “Only famed or important people are invited to parties like that, so you, being as young as you are, must have been someone rather interesting-yay…”

When Senku-chan frowns at his words, mumbling something about I’m fairly sure you overthinked that, mentalist, because I was there simply to accompany my father, there was no other grand reason–

Gen loses it, “You dummy!” He whines, jabbing at the teen’s arm with his pointy finger, “Guests were not allowed to join the Gala, only specifically invited members! Even if Byakuya-chan would have wanted you there, without an invitation you could not have come!”

Senku-chan blinks at his words, “Wait, for real? But then why was I…” 

He can’t be for eal-ray, right?

Gen tuts again, crossing his arms, “That’s exactly what I asked myself, so I decided to dig around a bit, and you have no idea what I learnt: turns out the pretty boy hunting the dining hall with his ored-bay, annoyed-ay ass aura was not some looser influencer or something like that but an utter, incredible genius who even anaged-may to impress Jaxa!"

He can’t believe the other had not known, had not even realized: for being a genius, Senku-chan can be really dumb at times.

“Did you read your invitation, dear?”

By Senku-chan’s ghost-white face, Gen guesses the answer easily; there are approximately seven seconds of full silence after his words before his friend’s brain reboots, “Alright, okay, that’s another whole thing I’ll have to look into later,” Senku-chan shakes his head to regain his line of thought, before continuing, “So, it’s that why you came over to talk to us? To test me, the only other kid at the party?” He raises a brow, “Was that your way to prove a point and get your ego stoked?”

Gen hums, “Initially yes… and then I realized I found myself disappointed when you had to leave, but it is what it is, right?”

His teasing smile turns somber, “But after, when you approached me again later that night, when we chatted and talked and played our game, at the end of the night…I gotta say,  Senku-chan, I was a little impressed.” He averts his eyes, feeling his traitorous cheeks redden, “Your looks, your charisma, your brilliance…. let’s say that, that night, even before I really got to know you, dear–” he lowers his eyes:

“I already liked you a lot, regardless of whatever I was trying to prove.”

When silence follows his words, Gen temptively raises his gaze back up: Senku-chan’s expression is… well, a new one he has never seen before but the younger is still meeting his eyes, is still listening, still open.

So, Gen doesn’t stop, “And now, dear, now that I do know you… I can admit that I’ve grown rather fond of you, Senku-chan,” he chuckles, “even if I’m sure you’ll find it gross.”

When his friend unexpectedly doesn’t say anything to that, Gen lowers his gaze again, casting his eyes down to his intertwined hands and taking a deep breath, “That's why I couldn't bear to see you pull away, had you found out about my… odd quirks.” His face is resolute when he looks at the scientist again, “So, it’s not your fault what happened today, dear.”

He says that and he genuinely believes it.

So, when Senku-chan just looks at him in silence for a few seconds, Gen tenses; he should have known better than worry, though, because all the teen does after his words is apologize. To him. Senku-chan apologizes to him.

Wha- no! I should be the one–

“I get what you are saying,” the younger interrupts him before he can stop him, “but that does not change what I did, and for that I apologize again.” 

Then, his oh so sweet friend bumps their knees together, “And for the other thing you mentioned…” Senku-chan swallows, ears reddening, “let me reassure you that, had I been weirded out by your quirkiness, I would have stopped texting you months ago: you are here now and I want you here, merits and oddities alike.”

Oh… Gen thinks, smiling softly, oh my…

This boy is so sweet, so caring, so unwavering in his convictions, his ideas, his feelings towards his family, his friends…that he is not even surprised when, after showing the younger that photo of himself, the other just asks him how long?

My whole life, dear, Gen thinks, telling his friend his story, that is the reason why I started it all, why I had to leave my home, why I can’t let anyone–

He hugs his legs to his chest, resting his head on his knees, malinconic, “When I saw you, at the Gala, with your hair and your eyes, I thought… maybe you’d understand how I felt.” He turns his head, meeting Senku-chan’s oh so beautiful eyes again, “I’m glad to know that it was not the ase-cay for you, dear: your family, your friends, they all love you so much, you are so lucky—”

His eyes widen:

O-Oh no, what am I saying, he panics, that’s so mean, so rude, so selfish–

Then, there’s a warm hand on his arm, holding gently but surely and, when Gen’s meets Senku-chan’s eyes, when he listens to his story–

His heart melts.

Gen Asagiri is a mentalist and a great one at that: he is able to read people pretty easily, he’s able to manipulate them, to predict them, to know them before they can even tell him anything: he knew, knows Senku-chan is happy, he is loved, by his family, is friends.

Still, he knows that just because one is living a happy life, it does not mean it’s an easy life, free of bumps and obstacles in its journey: 

a demon, Senku-chan has referred to himself, had repeated words that had been whispered and sometimes even screamed at his face by peers and strangers alike, all because of something the boy had no control over, all because of a condition he was born with.

Much like himself.

When Senku’s voice wavers and he frowns in sorrow–

Gen holds his hand in comfort, feeling his own heart bleed: they have been hurt, both of them, cheated by the people around them, by the adults that should have guided and by the peers who should have made them happy; it’s okay, now though, because Senku-chan has a family, has people who cares for him.

And that’s enough comfort for Gen, to know that his… his friend is happy.

“And it’s time for you to realize that’s the same for you too,” Senku-chan whispers, looking at him fondly, “there are quite a few people out there who care about you, the real you.”

When Gen’s eyes shot open in surprise, Senku-chan bumps their shoulders together, “C’mon, you trashy mentalist, think: you come over more days than not, you know all my passwords, habits and routine by memory, Lillian has been learning how to cook tantanmen just for when you come over and I’m fairly sure my dad’s two free-tickets to your shows away from legally adopting you too.”

The boy huffs a laugh, “Even Taiju and Yuzuriha can’t wait to meet the “new friend” I made— who, by the way, they don’t believe exists until they see them— and I’m sure they’ll like you too.”

W-Wha– No, that can’t be–

But it is, it is and Gen’s eyes fill with tears, and he can feel his mouth opening and closing around words he can’t find; his hand, around the teen’s, squeezes hard, trembling, and Senku-chan squeezes back, “You are liked, mentalist,” he whispers and, when Gen’s tears spill free, the younger holds on tighter, “don’t you ever doubt that again.”

And Gen… 

Gen breaks: tears run down his face, creating hot, wet trails on his cheeks, so he raises his free hand to cover his eyes, muffling the sobs making his body shake as, finally, years and years of insecurities get washed away.

The hand around his just squeezes tighter.

He should have known better that doubting Ishigami Senku, a boy so bright he puts the sun to shame, so sweet, so kind; even after Gen’s tears dim, even when pulling him along to the bathroom, while brushing their teeth, while snuggling into their futon, even there–

The affection is clear, is evident.

Enveloped by the dark atmosphere, the quietness around them, Gen finds his voice again, soft and hesitant and a little scared, breaking the silence that’s been surrounding them for the past minutes, “...Senku-chan?”

“...yeah?”

A beat. 

“...can I tell you something?”

Senku-chan’s voice, when he speaks, is careful and grounding,  “...you can talk to me about anything you want: I’ll listen.”

Gen’s heart beats steady in his chest, scared to show himself, to come out into the open, ready to be seen, to be heard; Senku-chan’s reaction, Gen admits, is expected, and so is the silence that follows; but Senku is smart, smarter than anyone he has ever met in his life, and he is responsible, he is mature, able to admit his mistakes and willing to better himself.

“You are right,” the younger whispers, breaking the silence, “every word you said just now– you are right, and I feel like a real dumbass for not realizing earlier.” He says, resolute and unwavering and oh so sweet.

Senku-cha is sweet, really, the sweetest person Gen has ever had the pleasure to meet, to befriend.

To love.

Asagiri Gen is a mentalist, able to learn about everyone’s deepest secrets, their most hidden aspects, and no one in the world knows Asagiri Gen like Asagiri Gen does: he has fallen for Senku.

The idea scares him, terrifies him, even, because if the other was to find out, was to realize Gen is a sissy, someone who falls for his friends, for him, Senku will definitely–

When a warm hand firmly grabs his trembling one, though, Gen’s fear evaporates.

“Gen,” Senku-chan starts, voice gentle but resolute, “I know you know, deep down, how I feel or how I think but I also know that, right now, you are not trusting your brain and what it's telling you,” he takes a deep breath, squeezing the hand in his again and Gen’s heart skips a beat, “so, if you can not trust yourself, listen to me: I don’t care about stuff like that, because it does not matter to me, I don’t care if your hair is white, if you lie with the same ease with which you breathe, if you like magic tricks or if you are attracted to men.”

A pause, a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not important, it does not define you.”

A gentle smile, “I care about your happiness, your wittiness, your comfort. What I care about–” Senku-chan’s voice wavers and Gen swears, even in the darkness, that the boy’s cheeks are flushed red, “I care about you, okay? Because I guess that I–I have also grown fond of you and your antics.” Another squeeze, “So trust my words. Trust me. Okay?”

Everything that is great mentalist Asagiri Gen crumbles; all that’s left is boy, a boy who’s scared and temptive and–

The happiest he has ever been in his life.

Gen’s heart, in his chest, beats fastly and purposefully and the boy can feel how years and years of fears and worries get nullified by the unwavering force that is Ishigami Senku, and the teen is right, is so right, and Gen is saved.

The mentalist disappears and all that’s left is Gen.

“Okay,” the older whispers, “okay Senku, I trust you.” 

The hand around his is still holding tight and Gen feels a sudden, unstoppable urge: he moves, interlocking his fingers with Senku-chan’s, holding on tight, “Thank you, dear, I think I– I really need to hear that. I– I don’t think anyone ever–” a harsh inhale, and the room is quiet again.

Senku-chan squeezes back, “Don’t thank me, mentalist,” a pause and the teen’s voice is suddenly self scolding, “I’m sorry I made you think you could not trust me.” He whispers, huffing when Gen mumbles a rashed it’s my fault, dear, I’m the one who didn’t tell you–

“How about it’s both our faults, mmh? Will that settle it?”

When Gen’s mouth closes with an audible click of his teeth, Senku-chan smiles, tone soft and drowsy as his eyes begin to close, “Let’s be more honest to each other from now on, okay?” He lets out a small yawn, “I tell you what troubles me, you tell me what troubles you, and we talk about it. Together.”

Oh, Senku…

The young scientist is already asleep when Gen, a hot, wet, liberating tear running down his cheek, whispers a reverent, loving:

“Together.”

That night, despite the eventful, emotional day, Gen sleeps the most peaceful sleep of his life.

The warm hand still around his own might have something to do with it.

***

After the event of the previous week his relationship with Senku-chan has, somehow, improved even further; the two of them had always seen eye to eye, always found each other’s company stimulating and yet, in the past few days, things have taken a delightful turn: gone is any lingering awkwardness, leaving space for more heartfelt conversations and, sure, the two of them still joke and tease all the time yet the way they do it now is different, more mellow, more pointed, as if the two of them have finally reached a mutual understanding.

And now, Gen is going to meet Senku-chan’s friends.

He fidgets with his light blue linen set only for a moment, wondering if he’s dressed up a bit too much but, in the end, he still waltzes inside with his head high: first impressions are important, after all.

He waves dear Miri-chan hello before his feet pivot him to his usual table and there they are, all three teenagers sitting and chatting as they wait for him; Senku-chan can’t see him approach, from this angle, since he’s facing the other way and, due to the high of the dividers, Gen is fairly sure the boy’s friends can’t either.

He takes a moment to observe them: Taiju-chan is really tall, really big, like a wall of muscles, with brown hair and eyes, his skin tan and golden, sign that the boy spends a lot of time in the sun:

Helping his grandparents in the garden, Gen’s mind supplies, just like Senku-chan had told me.

The taller boy is wearing a pair of washed out gray jeans and a white and red patterned T-shirt while the girl next to him, Yuzuriha-chan, is wearing a yellow checkered blouse and skirt with pink ribbons, matched to a plain pink headband keeping her short bob out of her face.

They are both laughing, wide, bright smiles lighting up their faces as the young scientist in front of them says something funny.

They both seem really nice, and he takes that as his cue: he trusts Senku-chan’s judgment and he does not fear this first encounter; he is sure: everything will be alright.

Still, when Senku-chan casually introduces him– his friends' eyes bulge.

Oh lord, dear…

And of course Senku-chan forgot to mention that he’s friends with a celebrity, and poor Yuzuriha-chan almost got an aneurism when she realizes; still, they are both really sweet, very welcoming, very nice to him already, and when the girl answers to his compliment with a kind well, then thank you very much, Asagiri-san–

Gen waves a hand between them, “Ah, no, no, dear, there is no reason to be ormal-fay with me, any friend of Senku-chan is a friend of mine! Please, both of you, call me Gen,” he smiles, “I have heard a lot about you, dears, and I’m really appy-hay to finally meet you!” He says, making both Taiju and Yuzuriha smile at him.

Senku-chan, next to him, smiles softly as well.

Well, he thinks teasingly, that won’t do~

So, after Miri-chan takes their orders, Gen’s smile turns into a mischievous little grin as he addresses the couple, “I have been informed,” he purs, making his scientist friend tense with his velvety tone, “that the two of you have known dear Senku-chan for a long ime-tay, and I really, really couldn’t wait to meet you,” he cradles his face in his hands, resting his elbows on the table, “I’m pretty sure there are many, many endearing stories-ay about our dear Senku-chan I don’t know about~”

When the both Taiju-chan and Yuzuriha-chan smile at his words and Senku-chan’s eyes bulge out of his skull, Gen tilts his head:

Big miscalculation, Senku-chan dear~

Gen’s having the time of his life: Taiju-chan and Yuzuriha-chan are both so sweet, so kind… and so willing to tell him all and every ory-stay about their friend Gen asks for, and  oh they are all having so much fun.

“Yuzuriha, don’t you dare!” 

Or, well, all but a certain scientist, it seems, “Aw, c’mon Senku-chan, let sweet Yuzuriha-chan show me the picture, I’m sure you were adorable-ay~” he chirps, batting his long lashes at the teen; when the boy’s poufs cheek in indignation as he barks a loud listen here, you damn bastard– 

Gen barely manages to keep it together, whining loudly at dear Taiju-chan to stop cursing at me, Senku-chan! Taiju-chan please tell him– causing the taller boy to wholeheartedly scold the young scientist as the boy facepalms; when Gen’s eyes meet dear Yuzuriha-chan’s ones, they both lose it, laughing loudly at their friends.

It’s fun, and joyful and, when Senku-chan starts laughing as well…

Gen’s heart warms.

Finding out that dear Oreo-chan had been adopted had been both the best and the worst news Gen could have received, and he is happy to find comrady in Yuzuriha-chan and her stray kitty, “I was really glad when I saw him with a collar around his neck, but I couldn’t help but be a bit sad…” the girl says, frowning, and, suddenly, the taller boy appears to her side, worried about her sudden change of mood.

Really, these two are absolutely-ay adorable; Gen coos, “Aw, how sweet~ please tell me dear, how did you end up together-ay?” 

The girl smiles, leaning into her boyfriend’s side shamelessly, “Taiju called me behind the school and confessed,” she smiles brightly, “and I said yes, of course!”

Really, he thinks as he lets out a little excited squeak, these two are so sweet, tooth rotting style!

“Oh my god,” he shrieks happily, “you guys are the textbook example of high school romance! Aw~” he coos, and Yuzuriha smiles brightly at him as Taiju sends him a stiff, embarrassed thank you, Gen!

Really, they are so sweet, so open with their affection… Gen finds himself thinking, longingly eyeing the couple, it must be nice to like someone like that…

To be liked, like that.

Gen is not stupid, he knows that hiding his true self is not gonna work forever, especially because, this way, he is self sabotaging, precluding himself the chance to freely explore his own sexuality, his own preferences; he doesn’t label himself, doesn’t really feel the need to do so: he knows he leans more towards men than women but he still feels like life too great to put everything into it’s own little labeled box.

That’d be rather oring-bay.

Despite this desire for freedom though, he knows the world is still far from being as accepting as he wishes it to be, especially for a young male Japanese celebrity like himself: the scandal would be far too great, it could ruin him.

Ruining everything he has worked so hard for.

Still, Gen wants, still he hopes, for love, for comrady, for partnership, like the one he sees in front of him, like the one the two teens in love pridefully wear on their sleeves, like it’s normal, like it should be.

He considers:

Maybe… maybe I could come out of the open, just a tad bit-ay…

Both Yuzuriha-chan and Taiju-chan have been absolutely great to him, really, he almost feels as if he had known them for years; he wouldn’t even need to tell them the whole truth, just a hint, just a dig.

He could always turn it into a joke later, if the need ever arises.

So, he goes for it: he pouts, jabbing his bottom lip out as he twirls his long black bangs around a finger, “Aw, that makes me so envious-ay! Oh, how I wish to find someone like that for myself too…”  then, he bats his eyes, sending the young scientist an innocent little pout as he coyly adds, “Who knows, maybe Senku-chan will take me as his boyfried-ay~”

When Senku-chan freezes, Gen hopes.

And the boy doesn’t disappoint.

Well, kinda: Senku-chan hums, pensively holding his chin with his fingers as he looks up, “I mean, you are rich, own an apartment, drive a car and have a schedule busy enough to keep you from seeing me too often…” he shrugs, “wouldn’t be too bad actually!”

Gen’s grin falls from his face:

A-Ah?

His brain stutters at the unexpected answer, the unexpected tease, making his cheeks flame as he stammers, “S-Senku-chan! What are you aying-say?!”

The boy tilts his head, “What, would it? I think it’d be practical,” he blinks coyly, nudging Gen’s leg with his socked foot, “Taking the offer back already? How can my poor, poor heart take it~”

When Gen opens and closes his mouth, staring at the other wordlessly and wondering what the hell did Miri-chan put in his friend’s frappuccino– Senku finally loses it, bursting out laughing, prompting Taiju-chan and Yuzuriha-chan to follow suit, and Gen realizes he has been messed with; so, he swaps at his friend’s arm with a chant of mean, Senku-chan, mean–

Truly, Senku-chan is so mean!

He huffs, crossing his arms and pouting:

I’ll never do anything ice-nay for him ever again! Mph!

… and yet, when they leave the shop, Gen still offers his friend a lift, as a thank you, as an acknowledgment for his support, for keeping things normal; for making Gen feel normal.

Senku-chan, even in all of his gremlin-ness, is still so sweet to him, so kind, so gentle.

Maybe that’s the reason why he doesn’t see it coming: he looks at the other as the teen exits his car, walking in front of it, and Gen shifts into first gear, ready to go, ready to leave, when a knock on his car window has him look up, has him open his mouth to ask the other what’s wrong–

and nearly has him dying on the spot.

Senku-chan’s eyes have gone so soft, so languid, and his little smirk so confident, so cocky that–

“Too bad,” the teen murmurs, bending down to look at him through his open window, “I was gonna offer a you ride for a ride, mentalist, but it appears we will have to tap this one out…”

A shrug, “Pity.”

When Gen’s jaw goes slack in utter, dumbfounded surprise as he chokes on his spit in face of the other’s obscenity–  Senku-chan just pats the car’s hood, murmuring a light  I'll see you, mentalist, have a nice trip~ before nonchalantally walking away.

Gen’s soul leaves his body. 

Literally: as shocked as he is, as hot as he feels, for a brief second, his oh so carefully crafted body coordination leaves him, making his foot slide off the clutch and making his car jerk forwards, startling him hard.

The why is face flames up, though, is still ten billion percent more embarrassing.

Oh no, he chokes as he hides his bright red cheeksin his hands, what did you get yourself into, Gen…

He’s not referring to their teasing game.

***

Somehow, when the world finds out that famous pop singer Lillian Weinberg is married to Japanese astronaut Ishigami Byakuya, things don’t really change that much: the couple is still able to leave their life pretty much unbothered, the world keeps spinning and everything and everyone goes back to as before, pretty much unchanged, pretty much unaffected.

Well, everyone but greatest mentalist who ever lived Asagiri Gen:

Gen can’t breathe; literally. 

Physically.

“Wha-What is it you did?” He manages to choke out as he looks at the boy hoovering above him; Senku-chan doesn’t look impressed, “Will you goddamn stop making fun of me, you bogus magician? The situation is already dire as it is!” He barks, crossing his arms in front of his chest and scowling petulantly.

The sight doesn’t help him and Gen’s pretty sure he bursts a lung right here, laying on his favourite pet cafè linoleum floors.

He chokes on another frame shaking laughter, rolling on the pastel green floor of Miri-chan shop in pure, utter delight as his friends murmurs something along the lines it was an accident, we didn’t expect everybody to find out–

“Sure,” Gen giggles, barely managing to sit up as his face literally hurts from how much he is smiling, “because giving Lillian-chan a school tour, in the middle of the school year with hundreds of her fans roaming the halls was a great idea-ay!”

Truly, for being so smart this boy could be absolutely dumb, sometimes.

Senku-chan’s scowl deepens, “Everything would have worked out if it hadn’t been for that damn fire alarm–”

At the reminder, Gen loses it again, “Bah- But of course,” he manages to whimper as the last of his breath leaves him, “of course your orrible-hay luck comes in clutch, Senku dear! The whole firefighter-fay local corp was called it for a fluke! A fluke! I can’t–!”

He supposes the kick to the shin his laughter earns him is, well, earned.

Still. Ouchy.

Meany, he thinks as he sits back up, massaging his aching leg, Senku-chan is truly a meany! How was I not upposed-say to laugh at that!? That’s hilarious-hay!

He pouts petulantly as he throws one of the numerous pillows at his friend:

He is a brute! Not a gremlin, a ute-bray! He is not charming at all!

And yet, when they exit the shop and Senku-chan holds the door open for him with a murmur of after you– Asagiri Gen stomps his foot, ”It’s not fair, Senku-chan! You go from zero to one billion-ay way too easily! I created a monster!” 

Huff! He thinks, pouting when the teen raises a cocky eyebrow at him, So mean!

When Senku-chan all but winks at him–

Gen’s belly flutters.

Truly the meanest!

***

Sapporo, in winter, looks absolutely-ay breathtaking: the white snow coating the buildings’ roofs shimmers, the roads are completely covered in festive decoration and people walk around in traditional clothing, ready to celebrate or visit one of the many festivals in the city.

This is the second time Gen comes to the northern metropoly, yet this is the first time he does so for one of his shows, and has to admit that the people here are absolutely delightful: for some strange reason, in the past year, his community has rather expanded in this area and they were absolutely the sweetest at today’s play.

Everybody cheered happily, complimented him loudly and chanted at him to come back; it had been quite surprising, if he gotta be honest.

Still, he is not going to complain.

“Everybody, drink up, we have to celebrate!” Gen’s manager says, holding his pint of beer high, “Today’s show was fantastic, you really outdone yourself, Asagiri-san!”

When the whole staff cheers loudly, Gen smiles, “Thank you all, dears, but this tournee would not be possible without your upport-say! I’m the one who has to thank you all!” He says, and he means it: though he is not particularly close to any of them, he still owns them a great lot.

He politely turns down the sake offered to him before grabbing his chopstick, ready to dive into the northern miso ramen soup variation– when his phone vibrates inside of his back pocket; humming curiously, he grabs the device, noticing that there’s a new notification in his and Senku-chan's chat.

Well, he thinks as he taps on the contact, that’s weird…

The message he finds leaves him even more confused:

Senku-chan, 18.57:

Are you done with your show? Can I call you?

Gen binks, surprised, before eyeing the other customers and companions around him and frowning slightly:

Me, 19.23:

I am done for today, Senku-chan, but I fear I got roped into a olleagues-cay dinner celebration… Is it something urgent-ay, dear? Is everything okay?

He worriedly goes for the call button, ready to stand and excuse himself– when a new text pops up:

Senku-chan, 19.24:

Everything is fine? It’s okay mentalist, it’s nothing that can’t wait a couple of hours.

( ╹ -╹)?

Gen’s body relaxes, rolling his eyes as he mumbles something along the lines of science gremlins and their dry texting abits-hay–

Me, 19.25:

You scared me, Senku-chan! Still, if that’s the ase-cay, you can call me around 21.30! Later~

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)⸝♡

Senku-chan, 19.25:

( ദ്ദി °_° )

Really, he thinks, shaking his head fondly as he puts his phone away, Senku-chan please earn-lay how to text!

Still, the random request has him extremely curious: Senku-chan usually just asks things, asks for things, he’s not one to be so mysterious.

Mmh.

He wonders what the other needs him for.

Gen’s phone rings exactly at 21.30.

He puts down the magazine he was checking out, sliding a piece of paper between the pages so to mark where he has stopped, before pressing accepts as he flops back into his hotel bed, “Hello there, Senku-chan dear, how ice-nay is it to hear from you~”

There’s a bit of disturbance, probably caused by the heavy snow outside, before Senku-chan’s huff of laughter can be heard, “Eh, I hear your ringy voice for the first time in eight days and I’m already tired of it, eh.”

Ah!? Gen thinks, Wha–!

“Rude!” He basically screams, flabbergasted, “Senku-chan you called me!”

“Eheh,” the teen’s static-distorted voice says, “well, guess I did.”

Gen pouts, offended, shuffling under his covers to lay more comfortably as he mumbles meany, Senku-chan is such a meany!–

In response, the other hums teasingly, “Yeah, yeah, you bogus magician, my bad, I apologize.” He says that but he doesn’t sound sincere at all.

Still. Gen’s feeling nice today, probably thanks to the daily success; he huffs, "Alright, whatever, I’ll pretend I elieve-bay that…” he mumbles, and his curiosity is unstoppable now, “So, Senku-chan, I have been ondering-way this for the last two hours, I need to know now! Tell me, what is the absolutely-ay long question that you need to ask me?”

On the other line, the boy makes a confused sound, “Uh? What are you talking about?”

Gen blinks, taken aback, “Well dear, since you texted me if you could all-cay I assumed whatever you wanted to ask me was too long to write down via text; was I ong-wray?” He asks, wondering if he missed the mark, “Did you not need something from me?”

By the sound Senku-chan makes, he probably does not.

“What? I don't need anything from you,” the younger says and Gen’s eyes widen, because then why would the other contact him then–

“I just wanted to call you?”

At the banality of the teen’s voice, Gen’s brain stutters; because Senku-chan has just said that like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like wanting to call him, to talk to him, was a given, a logical implication, something not to question.

Gen is suddenly questioning everything, though:

No one has ever called him just because before, not his manager, not his colleague, not even his classmates in high school; and let's not talk about his parents.

Let’s not talk about them.

His surprise must have lasted more than expected since, a few seconds later, Senku-chan’s voice breaks the silence, “Oi, mentalist, are you still there?”

Gen gets catapulted back into reality: holding his phone back up to his ear from where it has slipped out of his loose fingers, he hems, finding his voice once more as he shakes his head to focus, “A-Ah, yes dear I’m here, can you hear me?”

Senku huffs, “I can now but I’m fairly sure I lost you there for a second… maybe the line’s not very stable.”

That’s a great excuse and Gen’s too much of an opportunist not to jump on it, “Yeah dear, that’s probably it~” he chirps in fake delight, hoping the sound of the static will cover his hesitance, “It’s snowing rather heavily over here, after all~”

A huff, and Senku-chan must have shifted a bit, “Yeah I assumed so, Hokkaido is in the region with the highest amount of snow storms of the country, especially in December,” he says before the sound of shuffling fabric can be heard again, “Well, so how is it going over there, have you drunk?”

Gen blinks, and the domesticity of the conversation makes him relax, “Ah, the shows are going rather well, dear, I’m really satisfied-say! That’s why we decided-day to celebrate–  and by the way, I don’t drink when I'm on the job, Senku-chan, I am a esponsable-ray adult! Stop insinuating things!”

It is true that he doesn't find drinking particularly professional… though that would not be the whole truth:

I absolutely-ay can’t let Senku-can find out how big of a light weight-ay I am!

When at the other end of the line the younger boy lets out a skeptical hum of sure, “responsable”,  but of course– Gen whines petulantly; in the end, Senku-chan yields, “Alright, alright I’ll stop,” the boy chuckles amusedly, “you said the shows are doing fine and that’s good, but how are you? Like, generally.”

Gen smiles brightly, “I am fine, dear!” He chirps happily, “I’m really excited about this tourneè, especially since I’ll inally-fay go to Fukuoka next week, I have never been there before! Sadly, though, I fear there won't be much snow there…”

The thought saddens him: even if Gen generally prefers mild climates, spending his winters shielded under his comfy-cay kotatsu and his summers right in front of his pesky cooler-chan, he has always had a deep appreciation for snowy landscapes, for of all those beautiful, bright white covered lands.

Still, snow in the city is very impractical, so he is glad Tokyo doesn’t get the heavy winter storms it used to but he’s still kinda sad to have to leave the beautiful northern city where he’s staying right now.

He’s sure he’ll miss it.

Sadly for him, though, he befriended the personification of stripping poetry from the world that is Senku Ishigami since all the boy asks after his heartfelt rant is a teasing, mocking:

“What, so no snowman for Mr. Man-child?”

Senku-chan is really lucky there are currently eight hundred kilometers dividing them or Gen is very sure he would have thrown the phone right at his dense head.

“Oi! If you called me just to orment-tay me I will hang up, you absolute-ay meany!”

The laugh the teens let out is so cheerful, so happy, that Gen’s anger almost disappears.

Almost.

In the end –and this better be the end of it or Senku-chan will pay–  the boy yields once for all, “I’ll stop it, I'll stop it now, mentalist,” he chuckles once more before his tone turns somber, “but I agree with you it is a pity it does not snow much nowaday… There hasn’t been a good snow storm in years in Tokyo, I can barely remember the last time there’s been enough snow to do anything with it, besides having to shovel it away.”

Gen, finding an opening, jumps straight on it, “What, does Senku-chan want to build a snowman too, I wonder~?”

The mental image is rather cute, if he has to admit it.

“Eh, well I haven't built one in years, that’s for sure,” the teen says, and Gen can basically see the way he has probably sticked his pinky in his ear like the gremlin he is, “but I'm more interested in using snow for thermo-isolation studies and maybe building some structures, if I have to be honest.”

Ah well, that checks.

Gen’s not sure what kind of sound he makes but, judging by the other’s response, it probably wasn’t a really enthusiastic one, “Don’t sound so skeptical, mentalist,” the boy hums into the phone, “who knows, maybe I'll invite you so you can see how cool atmospheric cloud microphysics is.”

Despite the absurdity of the words, he still chuckles happily, “Ah, how ice-nay, I got an invitation from Senku-chan~” he laughs softly, hearing the other boy do so too, “snowy playdate aside, tell me, how are you, Senku-chan? Everything’s good int the big capital ity-cay?”

When the teen speaks, Gen shuffles slightly under his covers to settle more comfortably, “Mmm? Oh, I'm fine,” Senku-chan says pensively, “a bit busy with school, I guess, and Taiju is gonna come over to sleep tomorrow so he won’t have to travel through the storm forecasted on Tuesday.”

When Gen hums in understanding, the younger boy scoffs, “Speaking of that, I just remembered I got to clean my room before he arrives, so to leave space to place his futon while he’s over…” he trails off, and Gen assumes the other is scanning his –more than certainly– messy room, “...actually, it’s probably better I start doing that sooner rather than later, or I’ll have to stay up tonight to do it.”

The annoyed little tsk the boy lets out puts a small smile on his lips, “Well, then I’ll eave-lay you be, dear… guess all see you on the 31st at the estival-fay. Unless,” he murmurs, letting some teasingness seep into his tone, “unless Senku-chan will want to call me again~”

“Nah,” the other answers without missing a bit, “I get enough of you as it is.”

Usually the comment would have made him pout in indignation; usually.

“And yet look at us~” he chirps mockingly, childishly bringing attention to their current activity; by the amused, defeated huff the other lets out, Gen knows he has won this round, “Just go to bed, you trashy mentalist.” The teen says, making him smile, “You too, you science gremlin, try not to pull an allnighter again~”

“I won’t, mom.”

The deadpan, sadly for his greatest mentalist who ever lived pride, is rather funny; he laughs loudly, forcing himself to quiet down so as not to disturb the other guests, “Good night, Senku-chan, slip ihgt-tay and don't let the bedbugs ite-bay~”

“Good night, mentalist.”

Turning off his phone and finally settling down to sleep, the happy smile that has accompanied their whole conversation tilts his lips even after he turns off the lights; that night, Gen dreams of happy snowmen and cheerful snow fights.

***

Yuzuriha-chan is a dear, and she is a very skilled seamstress: Gen’s yukata fits him perfectly, like a glove, really and it makes him look rather beautiful, he thinks, as he observes himself in the mirror while Lillian finishes applying some soft blush to the girl’s cheeks

Truly, the girl is rather antstic-fay.

“Et voilà!” Lillian-chan exclaims as she puts down her brush, “Ah! Yuzuriha-chan you look so cute!” The older woman chirps as the girl checks herself out in the mirror as well, “Oh wow guys, how are both of you so good with make up! I almost didn’t recognize myself!” Yuzuriha-chan woes, gently observing her face.

They are, in fact, very skilled, and the three of them are, in fact, extremely beautiful right now.

Cheers to make-up~

Still, when they finally exit the bathroom to meet the rest of their companions, Gen has to admit the other three men look rather dashing themself, though neither of them had joined them to play around with a bit of make-up.

Boring.

Well, Gen thinks, maybe it’s etter-bay this way, actually…

Really, he’s not sure he might have been able to survive seeing Senku-chan in some proper make-up, if the boy is already so beautiful like he is right now; Gen has always thought, ever since their first ever encounter, that the younger boy has a sort of magnetic aura which draws people in, be it for his brilliance, his unwavering stubbornness, kind heart or looks: the boy is attractive, for lack of a better term, in many different ways.

And right now… wow.

Yuzuriha-chan did an amazing job: Senku-chan’s own yukata fits him rather nicely, making him look taller, somehow, more imposing, even if it’s clear the boy’s mind is somewhere else right now.

Gen taps his friend’s shoulder, breaking him out from whatever trance the boy is stuck in, “Hey there, handsome~”

The teen, as the gremlin he is, just bats his hand away as he scoffs a petulant took you long enough–  that has the older pout; when the boy admits a reluctant but I have to admit it was worth the wait… though, Gen’s smile comes back tenfold and he coos, “Aw, Senku-chan, I knew you were a softy, deep down! Look at you, saying all this sweet-ay things about me~”

Senku-chan raises a brow at the implication, crossing his arms, “No one was talking about you, you clown, stop fishing for compliments.” The boy says before sizing him up from head to toes; when all the teen does for a few seconds is looking at him, Gen can’t help his eyes from crinkling in mirth, “So,” he murmurs, leaning towards him and whispering, “see something you like-ay?” 

The teasing is there, for sure, but so is a sprinkle of true hope, of a more solid… flirtation.

When Senku-chan leans closer, looking at him again with a soft expression, Gen’s breath hitches, his heartbit spikes before–

“Meh, seen better.”

“Ah-” Gen pouts, fondness evaporating, “Rude!”

Senku-chan might be handsome but he is still more gremlin than man.

Mph.

The festival air is joyful, the music is catchy, the food so asty-tay and the overall atmosphere top notch, and Gen is having the time of his life: they have said bye-bye to both Lillian-chan and Byakuya-chan a while ago and now, after the four of them are done eating, he and Senku-chan are gonna let dear Yuzuriha-chan and Taiju-chan have a sweet moment just the two of them, waving them see you later as the couple disappears among the crown.

So, here are Senku-chan and him, strolling around the colorful roads as they kill some time, chatting and teasing and–

“Oh my, how adorable!” 

The words are out of his mouth before he realizes, yet he can’t really help it because, “Oh my god, look Senku-chan! It looks exactly like Oreo-chan dear!”

That fluffy, soft looking black and white rabbit with the longest, droopiest ears he has ever seen is literally the stuffed toy version of his favorite bunny-chan; it’s almost creepy how the spots on the plushy perfectly match the real animal’s ones, with one covering his right little eye in a round shape and inglobing its right, long ear as well, then four for its little paws and one more on the tail.

So cute!

Sadly, the oring-bay boy he calls his friend just huffs a laugh, mumbling something about of course you would like the plushy, why am I even surprised… that has the older boy pouting, before throwing his hands in the air when the teen eyes another prize, an Australian wooden boomerang with cool aerodynamics.

Gen’s a mentalist and he knows a lost cause when he sees one: Senku-chan has pointed the prize and he isn’t going to walk away without it, for he’s too stubborn to give up when he really wants something, so he concedes defeat, eyeing as the boy collects the rings for his ring toss game from the vendor.

Still, that doesn’t mean he is gonna make it easy for the other: when Senku-chan’s first try fails spectacularly, Gen laughs so hard it earns him a petulant bark from his friend as the younger aims to try again.

Really, Senku-chan is even less athletic than me~

He can’t help teasing him, he is so easy, so adorable when he pouts like that and even more when, unexpectedly, the boy manages to make enough points to get his beloved boomerang prize, leaving him pouty and teasing and whining.

That’s probably why he doesn’t see it coming:

When something soft is shoved into his arms, Gen’s brain alts; then, his heart leaps out of his chest:

There is no way.

W-Wha– His thoughts stutter, eyes fixed on the soft gift in his arms, why did he–

He has to know, has to ask:

“Senku-chan?” He whispers carefully, catching the other’s attention, “Why–” he starts before cutting himself off, “Why did you–” he stammers, gently raising his arms and showing the thing in his hands.

Senku blinks, clearly confused for a second, before his eyes light up in realization, “Ah that? That is a reminder to you that I was one billion percent right and that you were one billion percent wrong,” he says, and Gen’s eyes widen, surprised, and then there’s a look in the teen’s face that promises nothing good: Senku-chan tilts his head then, leaning closer before literally purring, “and then, obviously, as further proof of my never ending talents as a providing, caring prospect,” he says, looking at him up and down before teasingly raising a brow, “don’t you agree I’d make the perfect boyfriend-ay for you, mentalist?”

And Gen… Gen’s done for.

Senku-chan’s voice is so soft, so warm, so… so, that Gen’s entire system shuts down, years and years of carefully trained poker face going pouf and disappearing as if they never existed, as if Gen is just another of those overly romance-effected teens that buy his mentalism books to try to understand if they crush likes them.

Crush.

Gen’s breath hitches and his mouth drops open in utter surprise, his fingers holding the soft plushy to his chest, pressed down on his sternum where, underneath, his heartbeat skyrockets, pushing his blood fast, pumping hard and now his cheeks are red–

When Senku-chan’s cocky smile dies and turns into a questioning blink, a surprised widening of his eyes and a soft coloring of his cheeks–

Gen’s high on serotonin brain decides for him: he is in trance, his fears and doubts muffled by the possible what ifs, by the sudden harmony he sees in the other’s eyes that he takes a step, inching closer to Senku-chan, to the bright, brilliant boy who makes his heart beat so fondly, so loving, opening his mouth to say it, to be out with it, because by the younger’s boy expression, by what he reads into his beautiful eyes, he feels there’s nothing he can’t conquer, nothing he should be afraid of and–

“Senku! Gen! There you are!”

Reality comes crashing, and everything rushes back in, the music, the cold air, the crowd and the mentalist’s fears: like the thick, heavy curtains that closes after every single on of his performances, dividing the cheering crowd from the illusion that is Asagiri Gen, his walls rise back up, his usual plastic smile tilting his lips as everything that almost came out, that he almost spilled, gets pushed back down, hidden, ignored.

When he steps away he pretends he does not see Senku-chan’s hurt look: he’s sure he made that up as well, like every other one of his delusions.

Just one more failure to add to the endless list of his good-for-nothing attempts.

That night, when he gets back after the amazing-ay fireworks show –truly, he had no idea such beautiful-bay performance was held so close to his home!– he takes his time stripping out of his yukata, brushing the thick fabric softly and hanging it carefully to air out, before he enters his bathroom and removes his make-up with a soft cotton ball, applying a face mask and getting into the shower to warm up after spending the night in the cold winter air.

Changing into his warmest, comfiest pajama, he brushes his teeth before finally exiting the bathroom, walking the short distance between the sink and his bed, ready to go to bed, to fall asleep– when he sees it: droopy and soft, it rests on the sofa’s armrest, exactly where he had left it when he had entered his home, still there, untouched, like a reminder.

Like a memory.

Everything comes crashing back.

The feeble restraint, the delicate balance he has managed to keep until now crumbles like a sand castle, dried out and forgotten, with fragile foundations and cracked walls, completely at the mercy of the waves crushing into him, of the wind blowing sand away and of the scalding force of the sun.

The sun, hot and warm and bright, blinding his senses, making him wish.

Making him hope.

Then, the castle comes down and what’s left is misery: turning off the lights, he flops to his bed, smushing his face in the soft furry belly of dear Oreo-chan number two and cries himself to sleep.

The mentalist will smile tomorrow, just as usual, just as brightly, but, tonight, Asagiri Gen lets himself hurt.

Senku-chan’s birthday party is, honestly, adorable-ay: the music is lively, the drinks top notch and the snacks really good, and the cake, the cake looks absolutely asty-tay and he can’t wait to try a slice~

Everybody is also so high spirited, from Taiju-chan laughing with Byakuya-chan and Lillian-chan telling Yuzuriha-chan how she made the cake tops; everyone is having a good time, even the gremlin boy seated next to him, with his pointy red birthday hat and his snarky, playing teases.

When Byakuya-chan ropes him into a little mocking skit against Mr.Birthday boy, Gen thinks nothing of it, leaning into the older man’s affectionate side hug without a second thought, without hesitation.

Big mistake.

Byakuya-chan is Senku-chan’s papa, after all, and the younger boy takes all of his kindness from the man himself: when Byakuya-chan pats him affectionately on the shoulder, his big, warm hands conveying all the genuine affection the man feel for him with a fond well said, son, well said!– Asagiri Gen’s breath gets suddenly stuck into his throat.

S-Son-?

He needs to leave, he needs a second to breathe, to reboot, to get himself back under control.

So, he flees: grabbing his jacket with a chirp of this party is so high spirited-ay, it’s making my heart go dokidoki! So many emotions, I feel like a need to get some fresh air-ay~ he runs outside, closing the sliding doors of the balcony behind himself as his heart throbs.

Not in pain, not in a bad way, but in fondness, in affection.

And that’s exactly what scares him.

Oh my, he thinks, holding the cold safety railing tightly in his hands as the cold January air has him hiding his face in the collar of his coat, oh, you are in too deep, Asagiri, you are letting yourself get comfortable… you know this is not gonna last, they will not always be there, that you will end up alone again and–

As something soft wraps around his throat, Gen startles, yet when Senku-chan's worried voice murmurs here, or you’ll catch a cold– as the younger boy wraps a warm scarf around his neck, Gen’s heart melts.

Ah, he thinks, observing the teen as he steps next to him, Senku-chan really is the sweetest…

His worry, then, should not have surprised him: the boy is too smart, too perspective, and Gen is too tired, too happy, too grateful to play dumb, “...it’s useless-ay lying to you, dear, you know me too well~” he chirps but it’s fake, tense, and he is sure the teen realizes too; so, Gen takes a leveling breath, “...I was a bit surprised-ay by your papa’s words, dear, he caught me off guard! No wonder Byakuya-chan is you father-ay, only you Ishigami’s can surprise-ay me like that~”

The smile on his face is brittle and Senku-chan presses his shoulder to his, offering his comfort, his unwavering, unconditional support; Gen presses back, “I’m okay, Senku-chan, I really am,” he turns to meet his eyes, “I’m actually pretty appy-hay right now, all this… warmth is really appreciated.”

He’s not only talking about the shoulder pressed to his, and he has the feeling the boy knows it too since he smiles gently, adding, “I’ve told you before, mentalist: whether you like it or not, you are stuck with us now, you are family.”

Really, Gen thinks, sending the other a soft smile, the sweetest… no wonder I–

He gulps and the apprehension leaves his face as he bumps their shoulder together once more, hoping to distract the other, redirect his focus, “Aw, how sweet-ay, dear!” He chirps in forced delight, “Look at you, treating me this gently and caringly, you truly sound like a boyfriend-ay~” he tilts his his head gently, teasingly, as he adds, “Senku-chan, if you keep saying-ay things like these I might think you mean them for real-ay~”

He expects a laugh, a tease or even a gentle shove; when Senku-chan’s eyes somber and a small, careful expression tilts his brows, Gen blinks.

And then blinks once more.

Senku-chan’s voice, when he speaks, is careful but grounded, serious, “...would that be a bad thing?”

At the unexpected answer, Gen pauses, before straightening up slowly, carefully; his voice doesn’t waver but it has definitely lost its teasing tone, “...what?”

It can’t be, he thinks warily, he won’t– there is no way–

“Would it be a bad thing,” Senku-chan murmurs, holding eye contact, “if I were to mean them? If I were serious?”

Silence stretches as the words register.

Asagiri Gen is a master mentalist, able to read his interlocutors easily, effortlessly, especially if said person is someone he knows intimately, extendedly, so there is no doubt: Senku-chan’s words are sincere, are true, and Asagiri Gen’s certainties crumble like a castle of cards; he stares at the other, mouth agape in shock.

Then, his heart explodes.

His face flames as blood rushes to his face, making him dizzy for a second as he tries to say something, anything, but it seems like is infinite vocabulary just self-destructed since no words leave him; so, he closes his mouth with a loud click of his teeth before turning his head to look in front of them, trying to regain some of his lost composure.

There is no way. No way.

And yet, Senku-chan is still silent, still quiet, still unwaveringly waiting.

Gen is suddenly very, utterly exhausted.

He takes a deep breath, letting the cold air ground him as he considers: he could play it off, could fake ignorance, but it would be useless, it would be insulting, not only to Senku-chan’s heart but also to his intelligence.

And that, Gen absolutely refuses to do.

It would be better, painful, sure, but still more respectful to the other to reject him, turn him down… and yet.

And yet Gen hopes.

And yet, he craves.

When Gen opens his mouth again, the teen tenses, “You know, Senku-chan,” he starts, looking at the lights in front of them, “a while ago someone real dear to me told me a very adorable-ay story: it was silly mishap that happened years ago when this dear friend of mine accidentally outed someone’s feeling in front of their crush and how, after this all ordeal-ay, their sweet, sweet papa told them something really incredible-ay, something that really stuck to me…”

Gen can’t see the other’s expression, can’t see what effect his words have to the boy he is about to beg, so he turns and what he sees make his heart melt: Senku-chan’s looking at him with such a beautiful, loving expression that the already frantic heart in his chest now feels like it can take flight.

So, he gives him a hopeful smile of his own, “...his papa told them that love should never be rushed, not for others, not for the one you like,” he exhales and his voice doesn’t crack, but it's a near thing, “not for oneself.”

By the way Senku looks at him, Gen knows.

This boy, he thinks, smiling fondly, is so kind… there was no way I could not fall for him.

He knows the extent of his feeling, the depth, the way he has never felt anything remotely close to this for anyone in his whole life, he knows how much he craved something like this, how much he wants it.

But he also knows that he is not ready.

He swallows the lump in his throat before he look at the other, hesitantly, carefully, “This wise person once said that both people-ay should be ready to love,” a pause and his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest:

“Ready to be loved.”

He hopes the other understands.

Senku-chan, next to him, just closes his eyes, just for a second, before taking a deep breath and meeting his careful eyes with his steady, unwavering ones, “This story is really... profound,” the boy says, brushing their shoulders lightly in comfort, support.

Gen loves him so much.

Senku-chan continues, unshakable, like the pillar Gen knows he is, “I’m sure this person agrees wholeheartedly to its morale, then, if they shared it with you. About love, about figuring things out together.” A pause and, when Senku-chan smiles at him, he smiles back, “About waiting.”

Asagiri Gen is a very lucky person, to receive Ishigami Senku’s love.

“Do you think,” he murmurs, staring into the teen’s beautiful eyes, “that dear, dear person would wait if… the one they like were to ask them?”

“...yeah, yeah, they would.”

The luckiest  in the whole universe.

Senku-chan turns, then, and grabs his hands, accommodating Gen’s long, nimble fingers as they interlock with his own, holding them tightly as he smiles, “I understand,” a squeeze, “I’ll be waiting then, you take all the time you want.”

Gen is the luckiest, yet Senku-chan is not, for having to bear the older’s weights, his hesitation and–

“Don’t worry,” the teen says, squeezing his hands again and breaking him out of his dark thoughts, “I’m not scared of waiting: I’m a scientist, after all, and I'll wait for as long as necessary."

A breath, “For as long as you need.”

And there, on a tiny balcony of one of Tokyo's numerous apartment complexes, Asagiri Gen, nationally famous and world renowned greatest mentalist with a career so bright and successful people literally envy, smiles the happiest smile of his life, holding the warm hands of the boy he loves.

“Thank you, Senku.”

Thank you, dear, he thinks as the boy pulls him back inside by their still joined hands, thank you for everything.

***

Gen had feared, at first, that remaining close friends with someone he has basically left hanging was gonna feel tricky and awkward; he was wrong, though, because spending time with Senku-chan feels absolutely the same as before.

It makes everything both easier and harder at the same time:

“Pass me the becher with acetic acid, mentalist.” The teen says, focusing on the weird bulby science-y glass vial in front of him and thrusting a hand in his direction; Gen pouts:

He could at least say “please” from time to time!

“Which one is it again, dear? There are like… six different ones here?” He murmurs, looking around the myriad of science tools laid on the boy’s bedroom floors; Senku-chan huffs, “It’s the one that smells like vinegar, mentalist– actually no, wait, don’t try to inhale those, gasoline gasses can make you dizzy.”

Gen instantly puts down the becher in his hands, “Asoline-gay?! What are you even making here, Senku-chan?!” He shrieks, and the teen chuckles, “Don’t worry mentalist, it’s just an easy experiment that I was curious about, I should be done before night time.”

Gen’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling, “...you do know it has already been eeepy-slay time for a while now, right, Senku-chan?”

By the boy’s startled blink, he probably doesn’t.

“Oh.”

Gen follows the boy’s gaze, looking up at the wall clock as well, and he cringes at the late hour: he had come over at the Ishigami’s for dinner, before being invited by Byakuya-chan to sleep over as the man chirped something about Lillian and I will leave tomorrow night, so stay dear, stay!  Enjoying some asty-tay americanized version of chicken noodles before waving the couple good night as he joined his friend for his experiments.

Seems like the other boy has been immersed into his mad scientist persona far too deep, if he hasn’t realized it’s two in morning now.

Senku-chan cringes, “Ah shit, I’m sorry mentalist, I didn't realize…” he frowns slightly, turning to meet his eyes, “you could have said something, if you were tired: I would have stopped...” he trails off as he quickly starts putting things away; Gen smiles softly, hiding his fond expression behind a conical flask: he can’t really tell the other guy that he would willingly pull an all-nighter if it meant listening to the teen’s happy rambles.

Senku-chan is really too cute.

Well, that’s definitely one reason… though it’s definitely not the only one.

Still. That’s a secret, so.

Gen shrugs as they put away the last tool, “It’s okay dear, don’t worry: one of the perks of my job is that I basically ecide-day my schedule myself, so it’s not a problem if I stay up a bit ater-lay than usual, from time to time.”

He usually doesn’t, so to avoid drowsiness, but it’s okay: he truly means what he said.

Senku-chan walks out of the room, gesturing to him to follow, “Damn, it’s really later than I expected…” he trails off, before raising a hand to his belly, “if you are tired feel free to go to bed but, to be honest, I’m kinda hungry… so, wanna help me raid the pantry?” The boy asks, a little mischievous smirk tilting his lips as he points at the kitchen.

Gen often says Senku-chan is more gremlin than man, but he finds himself to be not much different: he is more imp than man, after all.

Their wide, wicked grins are the last thing Senku-chan’s poor antry-pay sees before they ravish it; chewing on a piece of konbu onigiri, Gen hums delightfully, “I always thought so, dear, but you Ishigami really hoard a lot of snacks, you even have western ones!” He chirps, pointing at Senku-chan’s own open bag of doritos.

The boy shrugs, “You already know that the extent of both mine and Byakuya’s cooking skills is rather, ehm, finite, so we are used to either eat out or snacking,” the boy hums, munching down some other chips, “we have gotten much better now but I guess old habits die hard; I’m glad I am able to stick to a more balanced diet, though: a cup of instant ramen might give you the right amount of calories to survive but even I have to admit real food is needed, every once in a while.”

Gen nods in understanding, remembering his own early months of living alone: knowing how to cook is a useful, if not down right fundamental skill, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy, especially at first; he doesn't blame them one bit.

No wonder neither him or Senku-chan are particularly fitted, considering how poor their diets were in their formative years.

Still, pantry raids are a sleepover requirement, so he steals a handful of flavourful chips from the teen’s bag, munching down on them as well; Senku-chan doesn’t even look that mad. 

Fifteen minutes later, after enjoying their savoury treats, a finger pokes him, making him turn, “Wanna share?” The younger murmurs, holding something up, “I’m too full to eat it all but I’m definitely down to have some, if you are gonna help me finish them.”

When Gen realizes what the other is referring to, his heart does a little flip in his chest, “...are you craving pocky sticks, Senku-chan?” He asks, eyeing the small paper box in the other’s hands, “Wow, you guys really are stocked on snacks! But are you sure you want to are-shay them, dear? There must be, like, ten pieces in that pesky ox-bay…”

The teen shrugs, “As I said, I’m not really hungry anymore.”

He acts carelessly, nonchalantly, yet the small tensing of his shoulders betrays him; Gen smiles softly, “Alright dear, if you really want them I’ll split them with you~ you really do like sweets, don’t you, Senku-chan?”

The boy chuckles softly, opening the bag, “I don’t mind sugar, though I admit I got used to have a lot of it because it’s a good brain stimulant and helps me focusing,” a shrug, “kinda like coffee, but Byakuya would not let me have any of that when I was younger, he said it was harmful to a child's body,” he frowns, opening the small plastic bag inside the box as mumbles something about no because downing candies like that was healthy anyway, you old man–

“Byakuya-chan had to draw some lines somewhere, dear, or who knows what you would have done~”

When the boy says yeah yeah, whatever–. Gen chuckles, looking at the the other as the younger finally goes for the snack, waiting to get some himself.

And yet, when Senku-chan grabs the fist stick from the bag, he just holds it out to him, waiting for him to grab it.

Gen’s heart skips a bit.

And right there, the notion Gen has been trying to ignore for the past three hours comes crushing into the front of his brain, making him internally bash: because today, –yes, right now, because midnight has passed hours ago, making the date change– is the 14th of February, and Senku-chan has just passed him a pocky.

A chocolate covered pocky.

Today it’s Valentine’s day and Senku-chan has just offered him chocolate.

Gen gulps:

It’s okay, he tries to convince himself as silence stretches between the two of them, it’s just a oincidence-cay, it doesn’t mean anything~

Senku-chanis still waiting, still holding out the sweet to him, looking at him straight into his eyes and Gen–

Gen folds: after all acting weird now would give him away, would probably arouse suspicion in the other, would make it weird… even if he already knows that Senku-chan…

No, it’s just a coincidence.

I ean-may, he thinks, I know that dear Senku-chan already… but there is no ay-way he would illingly-way do something like this, right? He simply probably did not realize the date, that’s all!

But Gen is still human, still a romantic, deep down, and if he has to be honest to himself… he wants it: he wants to accept the chocolate from Senku-chan, even if it doesn’t mean anything; or, well, it means something, but not what he thinks.

Probably. He is not gonna ask. 

So, he takes it, making their finger brush when he grabs the bottom, before raising it to his lips and biting down on the sweet treat; when he pops the last bit into his mouth, Senku-chan offers him another. And another.

Silently, quietly, Gen finishes the whole pack.

Well, not exactly the whole pack since, at the last pocky, Senku-chan’s fingers twitch, fishing the sweet treat out of the box and popping it hastily into his own mouth before crushing the container into his hands.

Neither of them say a word after that.

A while later, now laying in his futon and surrounded by the quietness of the dark, Gen shuffles under his covers, turning to face Senku-chan’s back and eyeing the way the duvets wrapped around the younger’s body rise and fall at each of the boy’s breaths.

The sweet flavor of the chocolate has been brushed away by Lillian's charcoal based  toothpaste he has used to quietly wash his teeth in Byakuya’s bathroom, while Senku-chan did the same; in his own bathroom.

By himself.

Gen suddenly wonders if he has missed something.

***

Gen remembers his graduation day with bitterness: surrounded by his peers –and quite a certain amount of underclassmates, for he was very popular, duh– celebrating and laughing and with loud promises of yes guys, we will totally have a year reunion as soon as possible– as every one congratulated one another, as everybody smiled at him, before leaving, going back to their family, with proud parents and cheerful siblings, all of them, one by one, until he was by himself, alone, standing in the middle of the school ground, smiling happily, waving cheerfully.

Until he reached his apartment, empty and lifeless and quiet.

Unexpectedly, he has not seen any of them ever since.

This graduation, luckily, doesn’t seem like his at all,  “Oh my, what a sight!” He chirps as he stand next to Lillian-chan, “I see Taiju-chan is as ively-lay as always~ ”

The sight of Senku-chan getting crushed by his best friend's affectionate hug is rather endearing indeed.

“Are you here to see Senku, Gen?” Lillian asks him, tilting her head as she gives him a small smile, and the knowing glint in her eyes has him fidgeting a bit, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on his sweater, “I am, though I can tell he is pretty usy-bay now; I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 

He had to force himself to come here at least three times, his traitorous mind filling in doubts and fears and making him hide in the safety of his room; in the end, he had to buy the gift in his hands as a way to motivate himself, hoping that the physical reminder could ground him.

Now, he is not sure.

Lillian gently puts a hand on his shoulder, murmuring a comforting you aren’t intruding dear, we are all happy you are here–  that has him fumbling, her honest words making his carefully crafted poker face crack ever so slightly; he looks at the bouquet in his hands, “Thank you Lillian-chan,” he hesitantly holds the flowers up a bit, “do you think Senku-chan will—”

“Oi mentalist, what are you doing here?”

Senku-chan, in his graduation clothes, looks rather well, if not a bit elegant, and he appears almost a bit imposing, a bit more striking than usual. A bit more mature.

It’s almost frightening how Senku sometimes looks broader than life.

When the boy inquiries about his presence here, Gen almost cringes but he pushes through, flourishing blabbering something like he always does, smiling at the little amused huff his words ears him when–

Then, Senku-chan’s eyes fall on the thing in his hands and he goes very, very quiet, and Gen gulps; when the younger boy’s face morphs into a careful, hopeful expression– 

His heart melts.

“Congratulations, Senku-chan.” He says fondly as he passes him the bouquet, observing how the teen looks at the carefully arranged flowers with attention and care; when realization passes through his red, bright eyes, Gen knows:

It’s time.

“Thank you, Gen.” The teen says, letting the silence stretch for a second and feeling his heart rate spike; then, he opens his mouth again, careful, “This,” he starts, gently swaying the bouquet in his hands to draw attention to it, “feels pretty monumental for Mr. Most superficial man on Earth, so there must be something going on you are not saying.”

“There are a lot of things I want to say to you that I haven't, yet.” Gen replies in one breath, not breaking eye contact, for he has made up his mind, he is sure now:

He is ready.

Senku-chan’s eyes, so beautiful, so marvelous, flicker, “Let’s go somewhere else, then,” the younger says, purposefully, unwavering if not a little hoping, “so you can tell me everything.” 

This boy, en thinks, he is so smart, so sweet, truly, how could I ever deserve him–

His heart plummets.

Oh my god, what am I doing, he thinks as his shoulder tense, I could at least have picked another ate-day at the very least–

“Wait,” a voice rises from the crowd, “is that Asagiri Gen!?”

The world comes back. 

A blink, and then–

The tension breaks, shutters even: they look into each other’s eyes–

And they lose it: they both start laughing, a joyful sound that shakes their frames and catches the attention of a few passerbyes.

I’m being idiculous-ray!

Gen looks at the other, as the younger boy shakes his head in amusement, and finds his worries gone: this is Senku-chan, after all, and he trusts him.

There is nothing to worry about.

When their laughter dies down, he grins mischievously, “Well, Senku-chan, I’m appy-hay to accept your offer, if you are all done here~” he teases and Senku-chan’s own grin widens, “All done here, mentalist; you know how it went last time and I ain’t doing all that shit again.” He says before taking a step and screaming a loud Lillian, Byakuya, I’ll see you later at home– grabbing Gen’s hand and pulling him forward, both of them sprinting away from the crowd, their loud, cheerful snickers accompanying them as they exit the main gate.

Gen’s high on happiness in a way he has never been in all his life, and he holds the hand in his tightly, pulling the younger along towards the safety of his car;  when they reach his  small vehicle they both jump right in, closing the doors as they get down from their serotonin high and, when they meet each other’s eyes at the same time–

They burst out laughing again, holding their belly as they wheeze.

Senku-chan chuckles, cradling the flowers to his chest as speaks, “Well, mentalist, I had no idea that running away from your fans was gonna be something I had to ever do…” he jokes, teasing him and Gen, as a comeback, just blows a raspberry at him.

Truly a gremlin. 

Silence stretches for a few seconds, light and carefree; then, Senku-chan turns his head, meeting his eyes tentatively, “So,” he starts, voice lowered in a soft murmur, “jokes and puns apart… you said there’s something you wanted to tell me?”

Gen hums softly, turning slightly too to face him better and letting the somber look in his eyes meet the young scientist’s own hopeful, tentative one, “That’s right-ay dear, I indeed have something I want to share with you,” he starts, clasping his hands together, “something I have meant to say-ay for a while now…”

That’s the understatement of the century.

Gen takes a deep, grounding breath before finishing, “I wanted to tell you a story.”

Senku-chan blinks, clearly confused, but a second later his eyes shine in understanding, and Gen loves him so much.

So, so much.

He takes a leveling breath, “It’s a story about a boy-ay,” he starts, lowering his eyes to his clasped hands, “a boy who, abandoned by everyone at a very-ay young age, uses every little thing in his arsenal-ay to survive, and, unexpectedly, to thrive.”

That’s what I believed I was doing, at least.

A bitter chuckle, “He's doing great, in his story: he is liked and successful, always surrounded by a myriad of people who love to keep him around, for as long as he’s fun,” a gulp, “for as long as he’s useful.”

With his eyes averted, he can’t see Senku-chan’s face but, when the boy just keeps quiet, he continues, “He is okay with it, for what more could he ask for? He has already hit the jackpot-ay, for someone like him… and yet, despite everything-ay he keeps telling himself… there’s always a phantom fear-ay of losing that trembling, delicate castle of cards-ay he has worked so hard for.”

Asagiri Gen is a master mentalist, capable of lying with the same ease with which he breathes; it was no wonder he managed to lie to himself for all those years, then.

He knows now that he was only protecting himself.

Gen’s fingers fidget, picking at a loose thread of his cardigan, “So, he stays in the limbo he has immersed himself-ay in, a mixture between fear, loneliness and overall boredom-ay, surrounded by people who don't care about him and whom he does not care for. Until one day.”

When Gen’s eyes finally rise to meet the other’s, his heart melts.

And everything is fine once more.

Gen smiles, “One day he meets someone, another boy-ay, a guy so brilliant he's down right blinding, and he can’t help it, not really-ay: he can't help but be curious, be amazed and, after a while… he can't help but be a bit fond of him.”

Senku-chan, in front of him, closes his eyes as if he is bracing for something, and Gen is once again reminded of just how deeply he has let the teen know him, for him to realize what’s coming next.

A year ago, the thought would have terrified him; today, it brings him a level of comfort he did not know possible.

“The lonely-ay boy is scared,” he goes on, “all the emotions-ay he has hidden for all his life are surfacing, years and years of walls and shields crumbling-ay in front of this other boy’s stubborn, unwavering spirit, especially-ay because the oh so brilliant boy takes a liking for him, and the two get closer and closer– until one day, all those ugly, terrible feelings the boy has bottled up-ay inside of him emerge, and the boy spirals.”

A gulp, loud and wet in the quietness around them, “The boy has done it, he has ruined it, and he is terrified the soft reality that he has created with the other has been shattered, lost forever. Oh, what a fool.”

When Senku-chan blinks, surprised, Gen’s eyes shine, “It’s useless to worry: in the comforting hands of the other, he is saved.”

He was, he has been. He owned Senku-chan so much.

“And then there's warmth, and a family, a group so tight and so, so welcoming-ay that, well, the first boy can’t help it: he falls for him. The boy thought he could hide-ay it, that he could keep staying by his friend’s side, unchanged, to be as unwavering of the oh so sweet-ay boy he fell for– until that same boy declares himself to him, opening-ay his heart to him, without fear, without hesitation, ever so brilliant, ever so bright: just like the sun.”

He owned Senku-chan so much and that’s exactly what had scared him.

Gen continues,  “The first boy is scared-ay, like, he can’t bring himself to diminish-ay his sun’s splendor– and yet, he wants.”

He owned Senku-chan so much and that’s exactly what had scared him, because that was not love, could not have been love, not in his purest form, not in the way Senku-chan deserves: Senku deserves to be loved deeply, unconditionally, with no strings attached and Gen, the Gen from two months ago, the boy who could bare handle a fatherly-affectionate pat on the shoulder, was not ready to love Senku the way the boy deserves.

Not when he could not believe in his self worth firstly.

Gen smiles, a bit contrite, a bit hopeful, meeting his love’s eyes again, “So, he asks him to wait-ay for him, until he is ready to worthily, worrylessly stand by his sun’s side-ay,“ he throws a quick, pointed, longing look at the bouquet still cradled in Senku-chan’s hands, “And now… he is ready, if the other is still interested-ay.”

If he’s still willing.

Senku-chan, seated next to him, closes his eyes for a second, likely gathering his thoughts, before he opens his mouth, “…and how does this story end?”

But of course… Gen thinks, blinking his surprise away, Senku-chan is still the sweetest.

To leave the choice to him, the next move.

Gen did not believe to be worthy of love but, now, he knows: for what is love if not an understanding?

And Gen, who has been misunderstood all his life, now understands.

So, he leans towards the teen, answering his question, “I’m not sure, dear, maybe… he still has to figure it out.”

Understanding is something one does themselves.

At his words, Senku-chan smiles softly, smiles in understanding, “Yeah,” he agrees, looking straight into Gen’s eyes, “maybe… they just need to figure it out together.”

Understanding is something one does themselves… but figuring out, that’s something to do together, yes.

Together.

Gen’s over the moon: he has done it, he has confessed, he is finally reading and he hopes the other is still willing, and his heart beats so fast, his cheeks surely red and–

“Got it.”

At the statement, Gen looks up, “...got it? That’s all?”

Senku-chan shrugs before smirking, “You already know how I feel, mentalist, no need to beat around the bush,” he grins, crossing his arms confidently as he adds, “now that we are on the same page we can finally move forwards, don’t you think?”

Gen just blinks owlishly at him.

There is no way.

 “I– wha– Senku-chan!” He pouts, cheeks tinting slightly as he whimpers, “I just opened-ay my fragile, sweet-ay heart to you, you little-ay science gremlin, and that’s all I get-ay? Not fair!”

Really, why did he even try? He already knew the other is more gremling than man.

When Senku-chan grabs his hand and cradles it in his, Gen’s heart spikes, “You are mine, now, mentalist,” the younger says, and the look in his eyes makes something in his chest melt like lava, “ and I have every intention of keeping you with me; for who better to be at my side, on this planet, than you?”

Gen’s face flames.

Really, what did he expect? He already knew his love is the sweetest person on the planet.

“Se–Senku-chan!” He screeches, “How can you say something as shameless-ay as that! Where did it even come from?!”

When Senku-chan leans closer, raising a hand to gently, softly brush his long bangs from his face, Gen’s heart skips a bit; yet, when the younger just boops him on the nose with a finger, Gen bats his hand away with a squeak.

Really, a gremling de jure and the facto.

“It’s okay, mentalist, don’t worry,” Senku-chan murmurs as he holds his hand again, “I don’t have even a millimeter of intention of letting you go after today, for you are one billion percent the one I want at my side.”

Gen loves him so much. This day was perfect.

Still, his taste is rather questionable.

“Oi.”

Truly, so terrible-ay–

“Oi.”

Gen giggles, “I’m playing, dear, it’s a jest,” he smiles, looking at Senku-chan in the eyes, “and you are right, dear, today was definitely perfect-ay… though I gotta admit I’m a bit orry-say for Taiju-chan and Yuzuriha-chan dears,” the mentalist mumbles, “we sprinted away so fast-ay I didn’t manage to congratulate them, I hope I’ll be able to do so soon…”

He should not have worried, for Senku-chan’s fortuitous luck comes in clutch– just to miss; well, that’s okay, really, because Senku-chan’s luck is so terrible that when it misses you it’s actually doing you a favour.

“Well, mentalist,” the young scientist smiles as he shows him his phone, “guess you won’t have to wait long.”

Byakuya-chan is always such a delight, toasting his glass happily and complimenting the teenagers’ hard work and great results, but Senku-chan is still the best, obviously.

For he is the biggest nerd of them all, duh.

When everybody laughs at his tease, Senku-chan just raises a challengingly eyebrow at him, “Mmh, perhaps,” he starts before smirking, “But you like this nerd, you bogus magician, and that tells more about you than it does about me.”

At his words, Gen tenses and, truly, he does not mean to, but one does not make over fifteen years of insecurities disappear with a pouf, like a bunny in a magician hat; he knows.

He has tried.

“That’s right, Gen!” Byakuya suddenly laughs, “My son is a very precious, brilliant boy but he is also such a gremlin– ah, smile bright dear son, you take after me!” The man chuckles as he covers Lillian’s hand resting on the table, “Gen dear, would you consider using your mentalist skills to find him a proper match? My poor father’s heart worries my sweet son will be alone forever–”

When everybody laughs at the boy, Senku-chan just digs his chopsticks in his ramen bowl, “Ah ah, real funny,” he says flatly, “jokes on you though, old man, there’s no need for any of that speed dating shit… because I already got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”

At his boyfriend’s careless deadpan, Gen stills:

There is no way.

Oh, but there is; when everybody starts to loudly and confusedly question the scientist, Gen’s soul leaves his body:

Oh no.

“You do!? Who is he?” Byakuya-chan basically screams, his eyes wide in genuine, dumbfounded shock, efficiently silencing the other’s uproar, and Senku-chan–

Senku-chan just–

“This guy, duh.” 

Gen’s going to launch himself into space. Or maybe crawl into the boy’s bedroom and melt himself with one of his boyfriend science-y acids. Or oh look, the alcony-bay is just right there, let’s go throw ourselves off–

In the end, he just buries his red face in his hands as he slides down his chair; Senku-chan, next to him, just slurps on another bite of noodles.

Gen is going to smother him.

”Senku-chan!” He hisses half in exasperation and half in mortification, “This is not the way-ay you tell something like this-ay!”

The boy, like the gremlin he is, just shrugs, “Something like what? We are all adults here, it’s nothing scandalous.”

Gen’s fairly sure he pops a vassel right there, sitting in the Ishigami’s living room, “Senku-chan!”

The young scientist rolls his eyes then, setting down his chopsticks and finally dignifying the room with his attention, “Alright, alright, you win, mentalist,” he says before he reaches for his hand, holding it carefully as he meets his papa’s eyes, “Byakuya, Lillian, guys,” he nods, “I confirm my earlier statement: the mentalist and I are together, yes, and we have been so since–” he quickly checks his watch, "–approximately two hours, thirty seven minutes and sixteen seconds ago.”

Then he turns his head, flatly looking straight into his eyes, “Happy?”

Gen, in response, facepalms hard.

Senku-chan’s really lucky he loves him or he would have smothered him for real: this is not how you share a news like this to your family!

Still, good thing everybody is used to the boy’s gremliness or Gen’s pretty sure the news would have obtained some other reactions; he smiles:

Well, he thinks as he smiles at his friends congratulations, maybe the reaction to the news would have differed, ure-say… but the outcome would have emained-ray the same.

For their family loves them both so much.

Byakuya’s arms, when the man pulls them into a happy hug, are warm and welcoming, and something in Gen’s chest slots into place,when his boyfriend grabs his hand again, squeezing it lovingly as he exclaims this is exhilarating, get excited!–

Gen knows: he has done it.

Surrounded by his new family’s affection and holding the hand of the boy he loves, his carefully hidden heart beats freely, feels deeply.

He is not alone anymore.

Greatest mentalist who ever lived Asagiri Gen disappears.

All that’s left, now, is love.

***

“Senku-chan,” Gen murmurs, stepping closer to his boyfriend to grab the offered futon, “thank you for inviting me, dear.”

The teen just smiles, shrugging as he sidesteps Taiju-chan’s pillow, “Nothing to thank me for, mentalist, the post-graduation sleepover is a tradition in this household.” He says as they both set down their respective bedrolls on the living room’s tatami floor: after finishing dinner and cleaning up the room, they had to push the table to the side so as to be able to fit all the futon.

Both Yuzuriha-chan and Taiju-chan knew about the sleepover so they had brought a change of clothes, but Gen had not been notified since he had originally said he could not have made it, so he is once again wearing one of his boyfriend’s dorky pajama sets.

Not that he minds, of course.

Senku-chan smiles, “Let’s go to the kitchen, mentalist… I know the big oaf: he might have an endless amount of stamina and does not ever feel tired, but the moment his head hits the pillow he is done for.” He teases, and Gen follows him, smiling amusedly, “Taiju-chan is such a nice boy, truly so genuine!” He chirps, “But what about Yuzuriha-chan? Should we invite her over to chat as well?”

Senku-chan shakes his head, smiling, “Nah, Yuzuriha is pretty peculiar with her night routine and, also, she will probably want to cuddle with the big oaf before going to sleep… bleah.”

Gen chuckles at the teen’s expression, bumping their shoulders together before sitting down in the dimly lit kitchen, “What? Senku-chan is not big on uddles-cay?”

The boy shrugs, but there’s a little amused frown on his face, “Cuddling is not the problem, the thing is that I don’t want to see them doing it: it’s weird, you know? I’ve known the big oaf far too long to watch him… lovey dovey-ing.”

“Mmh,” Gen agrees, “I suppose-say, when one has a friend as close as you and Taiju-chan are they might have the same… reactions as two brothers might have~”

Senku-chan shakes his head but he is smiling anyway.

Softy, Gen thinks as they chat, Senku-chan is such a big softy~

Time passes: from the quietness of the house they assume everybody else has gone to sleep, so they lower their voices, chatting and whispering softly as they laugh; in the blink of an eye, it’s almost midnight and the day is about to end.

Gen bites his lip, wondering if he should… yes, yes he should.

Yes he will.

“Oi,” a finger pokes his nose, breaking him out of his thoughts, “what, are you falling asleep, you sleepy mentalist? Need me to carry you to bed?” The teen jokes, raising a teasing brow, and Gen sticks out his tongue at him, “I would ove-lay to see that, Senku-chan, but we wouldn’t want you to break your spine, mister please mentalist, help me carry my fusor thingy up the stairs~”

When Senku-chan gives him a little shove, Gen laughs softly; then, he looks the other in the eyes, smiling gently, “Actually, Senku-chan, there’s something I wanted to give you before tonight ends…” he says, standing up and prompting the younger boy to follow him curiously: they slip past the sleeping couple in the living room –and just slightly coo at the cute display they make– before they quietly enter the boy’s bedroom, closing the door behind them so not to disturb Senku-chan’s parents.

Then, Gen reaches for his tote bag, looking for the thing he had bought earlier that morning, holding it carefully in his hands; when he turns back towards Senku-chan, the boy is looking at him in wonder, eyes shining with that innate curiosity that burns his spirit and that makes Gen sway.

Focus, Asagiri.

He opens his mouth, “I don’t know if you’ll ike-lay it or, well, maybe that one ime-tay I read too deep into your actions but… here.” He says before offering the other the small hand sized gift bag; when Senku-chan softly grabs it, undoing the red ribbon holding the velvety paper closed, his eyes widen at what he finds inside.

At the sudden silence, Gen fidgets, “It’s a gift, you know? Since today is the 14th of March and all…” he whispers, cheeks tinting slightly as he carefully observes the boy’s expression:

Today falls White Day, after all, and it’s tradition.

Senku-chan carefully takes one of the small, heart shaped white chocolates out of the bag, holding it carefully between two fingers; when the boy still doesn't utter a single word, Gen lowers his gaze.

Of course, he thinks he probably doesn’t remember the thing from last month… though I ope-hay he’ll still like the sweets–

“It was stupid of me to think you would not realize.” Senku-chan suddenly murmurs and, when the older raises his eyes to meet the teen’s, his boyfriend's cheeks have gone completely red; Gen blinks:

Uh?

Senku-chan continues, looking at him fondly, if not a little bashfully, “It was stupid of me to think someone as smart as you would not realize I handed you chocolate covered pocky sticks on Valentine’s day,” he clarifies and the small bashful chuckle he lets out right after pierces an arrow in Gen’s heart, “guess I really am not as subtle as I think I am.”

Gen smiles, bright and happy and in love, looking at the other boy fondly as he pops a chocolate in his mouth, humming in delight, “Guess neither of us is, I fear … I am happy you like them though, dear.”

And happy he is.

When Senku-chan offers him one as well, he eats it too, laughing when the teen’s fingers come out sticky with melted chocolate; when that sticky hand pulls him to the bathroom so they can wash up though, Gen’s delight burns his chest from the inside, and he bumps the other with his shoulder as they brush their teeth in the younger boy’s small bathroom, just like that first time, just like usual.

Laying down under the covers and shuffling closer so he can hold hands with the teen, Gen’s every lingering doubt gets washed away by his boyfriend’s unwavering warmth: Asagiri Gen is the greatest mentalist who ever lived and, cuddled up to the boy he loves, that is the least important thing about him.

Because what really counts, now, is that Asagiri Gen is the appiest-hay man alive.