Work Text:
It was just another day... the sun shone in through the curtains, the chirping of birds and the sound of cicadas wafted through the windows. A few light kisses, a hand in his hair... a genuine smile on the cyborg’s face.
“Saitama,” Genos said, making the older man blink. It was so rare for the young hero to use his name. “I love you.”
Saitama froze. The words were... had he ever heard them before? Definitely not from a lover, he’d never had one before Genos... from his parents? Saitama honestly couldn’t remember.
He had to... he had to say it back, didn’t he? He should say it back. Genos’s face was so open, so honest, so...
“I- I...” But the words wouldn’t come out. They stuck in his throat. Saitama had never been in love... never had any idea what it would feel like.
He liked Genos, that was certain. Cared for him, and deeply... as deeply as he could these days. The world seemed so gray, like the sounds were flatter and the edges sanded down. Nothing mattered as much as it used to, nothing felt quite right, quite real, as though Saitama was sleepwalking though his life. He clung to the tiny mundanities of everyday existence just to have something to hold on to, to keep himself from drifting away...
And Genos? Around him, the sky seemed just a little more blue, the birds just a little more in-tune. The kisses were nice... his warmth and his soft hair and softer eyes. The cyborg was the most real, present thing in his life, almost in focus.
Was that love?
Saitama didn’t know. He tried to force the words out through the lump in his throat, tried to give the younger man back what he’d given away so freely. Genos deserved better than this, better than a bald old man who couldn’t say three simple words.
When Saitama finally choked something out, it wasn’t what he meant to say.
“Thank you,” He whispered. “Thank you, Genos.”
It was the wrong thing to say and he knew it, nowhere near enough. Genos... Genos would leave, had every right to leave, go find someone who could give him everything he deserved.
The thought hurt, hurt more than anything since his hellish training, a physical pain in Saitama’s gut. He’d always known Genos wouldn’t stay forever...
“Saitama-Sensei...” The cyborg reached a hand towards Saitama, wiping a spot of wetness from the older man’s cheek. Just a single tear... when was the last time Saitama had cried? He couldn’t remember.
“I’m sorry,” Saitama said. “I’m so-“
“It’s alright.” Genos said. His eyes were soft gold, and it seemed like he could look right through the older man... right into the gray, shriveled, twisted-up heart of him. “I love you.”
Saitama couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t do anything as the younger man pulled him close, hard metal shoulder somehow soft against the bald man’s cheek... so, so close to being real.
There was salt on his lips. Something was dripping. Saitama fisted his hands in the cyborg’s shirt and just... held on.
“Say it again?” He choked out. It wasn’t the right thing, it would never be the right thing, but Genos seemed willing to give and give and give, throwing affection into the black well of emptiness inside Saitama.
“I love you, Sensei,” a kiss on the bald man’s temple, a soft smile against smooth skin. “I love you...”
They stayed that way for a long, long time.