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Things were starting to get kind of weird and Saitama had a feeling that Genos was slowly starting to realize that. He never really went into Genos' room — he never had a reason to. From the start, it had always been only a guest room. He had peeked inside on occasion when walking by when the door was left open, but never had any need, or desire for that matter, to actually be inside. It wasn't even about any worry of invading Genos' privacy, he simply just didn't care enough to go snooping around in another man’s room.
Saitama had gone in there for what was supposed to be a few minutes, to search for something (specifically an overdue library book; he couldn't find it and the fees were starting to get outrageous, so he figured it was possible he haphazardly threw it in the guest room one day). Instead, he found himself — literally.
When he walked in, he was greeted by posters of his visage hanging on the wall, cell phone straps and keychains lying here and there, a figma by his futon.
Not only was it strange how much merchandise Genos had of him, but he wasn't even aware he had such memorabilia. Seriously, shouldn't he be receiving some kind of royalties for use of his likeness, or something like that?
It wasn’t as if it were unheard of for heroes to receive merchandise, either officially licensed or sold under the table by dedicated fanartists. He had even seen merch of Genos around — but of him? Saitama wasn’t going to delude himself into believing he had any amount of popularity, even among those who had a taste for more niche heroes.
So how on earth Genos managed to scrounge up this much, let alone why…
He had been so caught off guard by it that Saitama forgot to even look for the book.
Later that day, Genos had somehow realized that he had been in his room (he probably mindlessly left the door open, or moved something out of place), and actually confronted him about it. That alone was weird. If Saitama didn’t know any better, he would say the boy wore a look of shame, but the thought of Genos wearing the emotion felt so foreign.
"Teacher, were you in my room earlier for any reason?" he asked him, and if Saitama still didn't know any better, he would say the question sounded shy.
"Hm? Oh, yeah," he replied, "I was just looking for an overdue book." Which he never even looked for. Damnit. He would have to not only pay the fees, but pay for the book at this point.
"I see…" Genos hesitated with his words, "Were you able to find it?"
"Nope."
The conversation ended with that. Genos seemed almost worried, and Saitama questioned if that was something Genos was capable of even feeling.. Though, he couldn't blame him, he supposed. He'd be worried, too, if his housemate whom he kept an unholy amount of merchandise of, happened to see all of it. Not that he'd ever do something creepy like that.
Creepy.
Was it creepy? It seemed like it. There was a line between admiration and obsession and Saitama was pretty sure Genos was starting to cross it. Genos must have known it, too, otherwise he doubted he would have acted that way.
That aside, why did Genos need so much stuff with his face on it — when he lived with Saitama. When he could look at his face, the real thing, whenever he pleased.
...That thought was a bit weird.
"Hey, Genos, you have a package."
At the call, Genos had come to the door where Saitama handed him a box. He quickly thanked him and turned on his heel to return to his room. Or at least, that's where he wanted to go, but Saitama wasn't about to let him off that easily.
"So, what's in the box?" he asked with a slight playful ring in his voice, albeit admittedly forced to play some role of nonchalant.
Genos only turned his head back to him when he answered. "It's… not really important."
Apparently he couldn't even make up an item.
"Is it another figure of me?" Saitama grinned.
"Wh — Teacher, what are you talking about?"
"Or is it a keychain? A poster?"
Genos looked away. Saitama thought he looked like he would be blushing if he had the blood in his veins for it. He muttered an answer, but it was too quiet for him to hear.
"What was that?" Saitama's voice sounded victorious, although he wasn't even sure himself what exactly he won, "Speak up. Tell me."
"It's —" Genos swallowed, "It's a dakimakura case."
...Well. That wasn't the answer he was expecting.
"Of me?" Saitama asked despite that he already knew the answer to that question, but disbelief and shock still rushed through his body.
"That is correct."
There was a long silence between them. Several questions flooded Saitama's brain, but he couldn't decide which one to ask. He couldn't decide if he should be disgusted, flattered, embarrassed, or curious. Instead, he felt an odd mixture of all four. They coiled around his ribs in a way that bewildered him.
"Wow, somebody actually makes that crap of me?" was what he finally asked.
Genos didn't answer. Saitama figured there wasn't really a good answer to that question that would make this situation any less awkward. If anything, it might have cleared up a lot of questions Saitama had about how Genos felt about him. He couldn’t say he ever expected him to have something like some loner’s cuddle pillow.
He wondered how lewd the image was, if lewd at all — but those typically were.
And he really hoped Genos was the only one who would buy something like that of him.
Amidst the confusion of his own racing thoughts and emotions, offense bubbled up in his chest, as well.
"So you'd rather cling to a pillow of me than the real thing, huh?" when he thought about why he was offended, the words left his mouth before he could stop them.
Way to make things less awkward.
If anything good came out of it, it was that he had never seen so much emotion on Genos' face before. Saitama kind of wished he could blush, it might have been cute.
"Teacher, please do not joke around like that." his voice still remained calm and level, despite his expression almost humorously so.
"I'm not joking." His tongue said without asking first.
The tension in the air around them only grew. Genos seemed to be at a loss for words, now so was Saitama — his tongue abiding his command to stop just a bit too late.
Finally, Genos turned his head back around.
"I will… consider that." he said quietly and returned to his room.
Although Saitama couldn't see his face, he swore Genos was smiling. Though, he couldn't even really imagine that.
Things were going to get more and more weird around their home, it seemed. Saitama sighed at the thought and continued searching through his mail. Among the advertisements was one letter to him.
It was from the library.