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Asagiri Gen was the most shallow man in the world.
There was one reason that he had decided to defect to the Kingdom of Science, and that was pure intrigue. The psychological phenomenon of a man with the strength of mind to spend centuries in a stone prison counting the seconds was delicious enough to sink his teeth into. He had his own theories dreamed up, potential profiles of this enigmatic personality, all shattered when he met Senkuu.
Senkuu was the stone-hearted scientist that he had expected, sure. The pragmatic leader, the magnetic genius. But there was a softness to him that Gen hadn’t expected. The small smile on his face when he knelt to let Suika place a crown of flowers on his head, eyes closed, lashes fluttering over his cheeks. The slips in logic for the sake of others that he tried to hide behind pragmatism, like making his steam engine car impractically large enough to carry the elderly and children of Ishigami village. He was a reluctant but compassionate leader who never left anyone behind.
Not to mention inventing cola in the stone age for a shallow, deceitful, untrustworthy man.
Gen was a mentalist - he couldn’t help but notice things about people, build a repository of information on them that he could pull from to manipulate them when the need arose. But the more he noticed about Senkuu, the more his heart leapt in his throat when the scientist turned his gaze on him. The glitter in those ruby eyes when he was talking about a science concept that he was “ten billion percent sure” would work, the crinkle around them when he laughed, the way they darkened in intent when he was listening to one of Gen’s morally bankrupt schemes. If Gen wasn’t such a damn good actor, he would be a red-faced mess around the scientist, choking on his own honeyed words.
Gen wasn’t a child - he’d had his fair share of flings and one-night stands, most of which served to advance an agenda or just to stave off the loneliness that clung to him like gossamer as a celebrity. But he’d never felt something like this, something that almost brought the dreaded L-word to the tip of his tongue.
When he built the conservatory for Senkuu’s birthday, when he confessed to him in his vague, roundabout way, he expected nothing at all to change in their relationship. If there was one thing he did not clock Senkuu as, it was a romantic or even a person who understood subtext - if he did, what would he need a mentalist for? Gen told himself that his intent was to make Senkuu understand that he was cherished, to ease the guilt that he clearly felt about the threat from Tsukasa hinging on him.
When Senkuu scoffed lightly and said “yeah, that’s gross”, Gen just smiled - the bittersweet smile of someone who so badly wanted to be wrong but was once again right. He was content to be the scientist’s mentalist, as long as it meant staying at his side.
Looking at the stars, he missed the way Senkuu looked at him - soft, contemplative, like a science experiment that had an unexpected, but not unwelcome, reaction.
____________________________________________________________________________
Senkuu was a scientist and above all else, a pragmatist.
He understood romance as a concept, but it wasn’t something he had the time or interest to explore, and never has.
But he was also perceptive - on his birthday all those years ago, he was aware that there was something underlying Gen’s words that he wasn’t understanding. He had noticed the way the mentalist looked at him, the way he always threw his lot into Senkuu’s schemes.
But if there was some romantic subtext there, he didn’t have the time to ponder on it. All he was thinking about was this: the white in Gen’s hair shone like starlight, and when he looked up at the stars with that bittersweet smile that showed just the barest hint of his complex inner world, he looked like the statue of a Greek God, Dolos himself in the flesh.
It was then, for the first time, that Senkuu noticed that Gen was beautiful.
After that, those moments of noticing were out of his control - he couldn’t help but notice the delicacy and expertise of Gen’s hands when he worked on the “spinning projects” he dreaded so much, or the deftness with which he spun his own web of lies when the need arose (when Senkuu asked). The warmth of his shoulder when he leaned on Senkuu in the observatory late at night, asking how he could possibly stay up so late just to stargaze.
Senkuu rationed that he couldn’t possibly be in love with the mentalist. And if he was, it didn’t matter - he didn’t have time to pursue something frivolous like a relationship. He had to advance science, had to save humanity.
So he let the feeling fester like an open wound, let the infection spread. It was just another thing he could take care of later.
As long as Gen stayed by his side, it didn’t matter how they officially defined their relationship anyway. Senkuu was content just with that - they were partners, joined at the hip, each making up for the areas that the other lacked in.
What ended up shaking his conviction was a poker game.
It was ridiculous - all Gen did was side with Ryusui in a poker game over a silly argument between them over the route to take to America. But the pit in Senkuu’s stomach, the bitter taste in his mouth, seemed to speak of betrayal of the highest order. He couldn’t even properly enjoy his victory - after going through the motions, all he could do was retreat to a hidden corner of the Perseus, leaning over the rails to watch the dark sea pass by.
He balled his hands into fists and found they were shaking. He cursed himself but couldn’t seem to help the seemingly overblown physiological reaction - it was clear to anyone who happened to notice that he was sulking, and he didn’t even know why. He didn’t know this feeling.
“Senkuu-chan!~” a voice called behind him, and Senkuu groaned internally. It was the last person he wanted to see when he didn’t have a good grip on himself emotionally. A warm hand landed on his shoulder, and he whipped around, flinching away from it and facing the source of the voice - Asagiri Gen.
“What do you want, mentalist?” he asked, rather more sharply than he’d intended - so much for keeping his emotions under control.
Gen raised his eyebrows in surprise for the barest fraction of a second, then his mask slid easily back into place with a small smile. “I was just wondering where you were, Senkuu-chan! I thought you’d relish the chance to gloat over your ictory-vay.” His dark eyes narrowed and Senkuu swallowed - his mentalist read him far too easily. “Are you not feeling well?”
“No, I’m not. Go back to the party,” Senkuu responded, all too eager to take the out that Gen was providing him, and turned back to the sea, resting his chin on his arm.
Gen was silent for a moment, but Senkuu could hear him move closer behind him. Not for the first time, he was hyper-aware of their proximity and the fact that they were alone in this shadowy corner of the ship. Gen raised a hand as if to place it on his shoulder, hovering close enough that Senkuu felt his skin prickle, then lowered it. “Is there anything I can-” he started softly, but Senkuu spoke again, emboldened by the mentalist’s hesitance.
“Why did you pick him?” he asked suddenly, this time not turning to face Gen. “I thought you were my partner.”
“What?” Gen asked, seemingly dumbfounded. When Senkuu turned back to him, his cheeks had started to turn red. If he wasn’t so angry, he might have found it cute.
“Why would you choose to be Ryusui’s partner, instead of mine?” Senkuu pressed, turning fully towards Gen.
Gen’s eyes were practically saucers, his expression pained, and the two of them stared at each other for a moment, before the mentalist’s shoulders started shaking. Senkuu bit his lip for a moment, concerned that maybe he had gone too far, when the mentalist started laughing. He slapped a hand over his mouth as if to stop himself, but couldn’t seem to stop.
“Ugh, you’re right, I’m being ridiculous,” Senkuu admitted, raising a hand to scratch the back of his neck in discomfort and averting his eyes.
“No- no, Senkuu-chan, I’m sorry,” Gen got out between laughs, before taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I was just so surprised. It almost sounds like you’re jealous.”
“Jealous,” Senkuu scoffed, then frowned. “I guess maybe that could be what this feeling is.”
Gen raised his eyebrows in shock again, sobered, and Senkuu wanted to point out to him that if he kept making that face at him he would only accelerate the onset of those fine lines he fretted about on his TV-ready face.
“O-okay,” Gen responded shakily, red still dusting his cheeks. Then he smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes. “If you must know, I wanted to settle the conflict between you and Ryusui in the most light-hearted way I could - the last thing we need is two of our leaders fighting. I really did try my best at that poker game though - if only Kohaku hadn’t seen through all of my tricks with that keen eyesight of hers,” he said with a wink. “I am your partner, Senkuu-chan, even when I’m not. You have nothing but my loyalty, so there’s no reason to be jealous.” He tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully, then added, “I am sorry though, I didn’t think it would bother you so much. Given how hard you work me, why would it surprise you that I would choose someone else?”
Gen clearly meant it as a joke, but it made the ugly feeling in Senkuu’s chest rear up again. Emboldened by his own hurt, he huffed, “Well, I thought you were in love with me.”
“Sen- I mean- what?” Gen gasped, voice taking on a shrill note of panic.
“I mean when you built the observatory for me. That’s what you were trying to tell me, wasn’t it?” Senkuu added matter-of-factly.
Gen stood for a moment as if frozen, then started to turn away, and though he tried to hide it, Senkuu could see that his face had fallen, the mark starting to slip. “I’d better go make sure the others are still behaving,” he said robotically.
“Wait,” Senkuu said, catching his wrist. “I’m not done, mentalist. And it seems like you have something you want to say, too”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Gen responded, closing his eyes and tilting his head with that plastered-on smile. Senkuu just stared at him, frown deepening, not letting go of his wrist.
Gen sighed. “I hate how you see through all my tricks now,” he said lightly, pulling his wrist away and opening his eyes. “Just - you knew how I felt all that time? And you didn’t even have the decency to put me out of my misery and tell me you weren’t interested? How cruel, Senkuu-chan.” He was clearly trying to play it off as a joke with a dry chuckle, but his voice was shaking, dark eyes averted towards the sea.
Senkuu reached out and grabbed both of his wrists this time, forcing the mentalist to look at him in surprise again. “I couldn’t say that… because it wouldn’t be true,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t that I didn’t feel anything for you. I just didn’t think I had time for romance or a relationship, and I thought it would be kinder to let you find someone who did, and ten billion other stupid, selfish reasons.”
He searched Gen’s eyes but the mentalist seemed to withdraw into himself, expression unreadable. So, Senkuu pushed on. “But I don’t want you to find someone else. I want you to stay by my side, even though… there’s nothing in this department I can really offer you in return.” He laughed dryly, lowering his eyes to look at his hands, which were still clenched around Gen’s delicate wrists. “I must be the most selfish man in the world.”
After a long moment of silence between them, Gen slid his wrists out of Senkuu’s grasp, and instead threaded their fingers together and squeezed. “We make a good pair then,” he responded softly, flashing a small smile at Senkuu, who couldn’t help but smile back. “The most selfish man in the world, and the most shallow man in the world. Falling into hell together.”
“You’re ten billion percent right about that,” Senkuu responded, smile growing. For a long moment, the two of them just looked at each other, grinning like idiots.
Then Senkuu again grew serious. “You should know though, mentalist - Gen- my first priority is always going to be science, and saving humanity. I can’t compromise on that.”
Gen nodded, and Senkuu sighed, looking up at the stars above. “And I’m probably a terrible romantic partner. I don’t know anything about this stuff, and I don’t really like being touched that often, and I don’t know if that’s going to change-”
“I wouldn’t want you to change just for me,” Gen said lightly, cutting him off by pulling one of his hands away from Senkuu’s grasp and raising a finger to the scientist’s lips. “I fell in love with you as you are. Don’t worry.”
“But I want to change, for you,” Senkuu argued, catching Gen’s raised hand in both of his own again and pressing a light kiss to his fingers. Gen’s slight intake of breath didn’t escape Senkuu’s notice, and he felt warmth pooling in his stomach, a feeling alien but intriguing to him. “I want to be a good partner to you, the best partner, once this is all over and we’ve saved humanity. Will you wait for me?”
“So selfish, Senkuu-chan,” Gen teased, eyes darkening, leaning closer so their faces were inches apart. “But of course I will.”
“I want to kiss you,” Senkuu blurted out in response, surprising himself as much as Gen, who laughed again, breath tickling Senkuu’s cheek.
“Well, what’s stopping you then?” the mentalist asked, cocking his head, and Senkuu closed the space between them.