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It used to be harder.
Saitama believed that, truly, it used to be harder. But now, buildings crumbled like dust under his hands with ease, the scent of blood didn’t make him want to gag. Destruction and chaos spread out before him like flower petals and he felt nothing for it. No the screams meant nothing. They never cared about him anyway.
There was only one person in the whole universe who cared about him. That’s who he was doing this for.
Genos, when he’d first appeared, had haunted his steps. When he’d still been a hero, the villainous cyborg had followed him, fawned over his strength, his modesty. He’d cursed at the crowds who hated him, had scoffed at the lesser heroes who tried to bring him down.
Genos had told him how the Hero Association was nothing more than a hide away for fakes and bad people and con artists. They didn’t deserve the money that was funneled into them from every account on Earth. They didn’t deserve to be saved. Genos’ words slid like poison over Saitama’s mind in those early days of their acquaintance. More than once he’d left the cyborg limbless, just so he could get a day or two of peace.
But Saitama, despite the numbness in his soul, was still a man . He was still a man who could crumble under the weight of mocking stares and jeering crowds. Even after he’d saved their lives, kept them from blissful oblivion they still hated him, other heroes shouted at him, called his strength fake and claimed credit for his own acts of heroism. The voices plagued him, reminded him of the fact that he’d never be good enough .
Genos changed that.
Because Genos loved him.
Genos loved him, bald and bland and boring as he was. Genos would come into his crappy apartment at night and make him tea and gently hold his hand and whisper sweet words about his perfect and wonderful and good he was. Genos would rub his shoulders and hum out soft tunes that filled up his senses with a soft, comfortable feeling that made Genos so easy to believe, even when he talked about doing away with the Hero Association.
Even when he talked about making them pay.
Slowly but surely, Genos had crept into his life like thorns, tangling around his heart and soul. His costume slowly turned black to match and his red gloves grew bloodstained as Genos asked him for small things. Small favors.
Bring me Metal Knight and all his files. Bring my Drive Knight’s limbs. Find all the other cyborg heroes and kill them, I don’t want anyone to take you away.
And Saitama did it, eager and wanting, only able to feel when Genos pet the back of his neck and whispered love into his senses.
And it all culminated in this, destroying the Hero Association main building in City A, causing fire and brimstone and ash to erupt from its very core. And here Saitama was, standing on top of a building, watching for a long moment before Genos made himself known, cuddling up to Saitama’s side with a happy sort of mechanical purr.
The cyborg’s crazed red eyes focused on his face, his gentle fingers pulling Saitama’s head to make him look down at him. “It’s beautiful,” he cooed, “is this all for me, my love?”
Saitama nodded, smiling softly and shutting his eyes as he tilted his face into Genos’ warm touch. Genos was so warm, and he was beautiful, and clever when he wasn’t focused on revenge and destruction. Genos was everything Saitama wasn’t and, yet, this young man was so enthralled with his strength and presence that Genos had declared that Saitama was his as soon as they’d met.
The cyborg curled around, pressing his back against Saitama’s chest, pulling his cape around both of them like a blanket, as though they were watching a movie rather than a city burning. He wrapped one arm around the back of Saitama’s neck, holding him close. “You’re going to be a king,” Genos purred, “and they’ll all try to love you as much as me but they don’t deserve to love you. No, they’ll have to fear you instead.”
Saitama didn’t care if they feared him. He kissed Genos’ neck softly, feeling his cyborg arch into the touch with a breathy sigh.
“Fear us,” Saitama murmured softly, hands resting on the swell of Genos’ hips, “it’s all for you.” Genos made a noise like pleasure in the back of his throat, twisting in Saitama’s grip to wrap both arms around him, tugging him into a sloppy, rough kiss that left them both panting.
“Saitama,” Genos’ poisonous voice purred out, caressing each syllable of the word, “you’re perfect.”
Coming from Genos, the newly minted Caped Darkness could truly believe it. He scooped Genos closer, kissing him over and over as the city burned around them, feeling the heat from his lover’s blasters as he burnt the building they were standing on out of spite. Flames licked at his boots and Genos purred in his ear again, begging to go somewhere more private, someplace where the cyborg could have his hero all to himself.
He carried Genos off so they could watch the screaming and gnashing of teeth from a distance. Saitama couldn’t find it in him to stop kissing his lover, feeling the heat of the world infuse into their skin, melting the ice in his soul, around his heart, filling him with adrenaline again.
All he needed was GenosGenosGenos , he was like air to him now, fire and brimstone giving life to his very being. He felt those sharp fingers claw at his shoulders, those crimson eyes making quick work of everything that kept him from being as perfect as Genos needed him to be, as Genos wanted him to be. And Saitama would do anything to make Genos happy.
Even if a few thousand people needed to die. Even if cities needed to burn.
He’d make Genos so fucking happy .