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There’s a very specific before and after in Saitama’s life, marked by Genos’ arrival. Before is simple, quiet. Empty. Cold. After is complicated, noisy. Full. Warm.
Before, Saitama didn’t really feel much. He’d wake up, eat, practice, fight a monster or two, shower, eat, sleep. Every day was the same, no surprises there. It was a routine without much potential to make him feel anything, and that’s how he went on; numb.
But ever since Genos barged into Saitama’s life, literally barged into his apartment, a huge backpack that reached the ceiling on his shoulders, Genos took that routine and, no, he didn’t throw it out the window, he incinerated it.
Sometimes, Saitama thinks, it’s not Genos who is dependent on Saitama, but the other way around. If Genos is the sun, Saitama is a planet, constantly and endlessly in orbit around him, clinging on him and feeding off his light, trying to absorb and reflect it.
It can be tiring. By the end of a day, Saitama might even feel exhausted from this wide range of feelings that consumes him. Exhausted is good, though. It’s better than nothing. And he knows for a fact that he wouldn’t change it for anything. Genos has changed his life dramatically, but Saitama can’t and doesn’t want to imagine going back to his old routine. Genos is good, Genos is special, Genos is everything and everywhere in his life.
And now Saitama’s days are not dull anymore. He feels emotions, many of them, negative and positive, and Genos somehow manages to be the trigger for all of them.
Saitama always watches the news on the TV, in order to stay updated on monster attacks and help anywhere he can. The Hero Association doesn’t think of him highly enough to notify him when there’s a big threat for humanity, so he doesn’t depend on them for that.
They do notify Genos, however.
Dragon level, the headline reads. It’s a huge monster, and Saitama bets it looks even bigger up close, with its spider-like feet that resemble razors and its eyes that shoot laser and destroy everything they fall upon.
They call it a failed experiment. He doesn’t care. What he cares about is that Genos is there, shooting fire with his hands, but not succeeding in harming the monster significantly. Saitama is on his feet and changing into his hero suit in a matter of seconds. He’s about to leave, when he hears an ugly noise from the TV and he turns just in time to see that one of the spider’s feet has made contact with Genos’ chest and Genos is thrown away several meters by the impact.
Something in Saitama’s own chest drops and his stomach feels sick. Dread washes over him and suffocates him.
He’s in city M after only a few minutes, no matter how far it is. He spots Genos sprawled across a pavement far from the monster, which keeps destroying buildings. Please be alive, please don’t die, Saitama keeps thinking, so intensely that he doesn’t realize he’s murmuring it while he holds Genos’ head in his hands to make him look at him.
Genos, thankfully, does open his eyes, although with visible strain. “Sen… sei?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here now, it’s okay,” Saitama answers and brushes Genos’ hair away from his beautiful face. “I’m going to deal with this monster and take you to the doctor, alright? You’ll be okay, don’t worry.” He doesn’t know if he’s trying to reassure Genos or himself.
Genos nods and Saitama tries to focus on the little curve of his lips, not on the huge hole in his chest.
The monster is shattered in pieces with a punch that was far more powerful than necessary. Genos is struggling to breathe by the time he’s securely held in Saitama’s arms and carried to the doctor’s lab in a speed that would make Sonic jealous.
“I think… it got… my lung,” Genos pants. Saitama wants to scream.
“Yeah, maybe a little. But you’ll be fixed up in no time, and then you can make me dinner for worrying me that much. Now, stop speaking.” Obedient as always, Genos doesn’t reply, but he does hold onto Saitama’s chest a little more tightly.
He doesn’t make it for dinner, of course, but he’s good to go in two days. Saitama doesn’t sleep during them, too anxious to relax enough. He cleans everything in the apartment more than once, scrubs the floor, washes the windows, anything to keep him from thinking that Genos is not there to do these himself.
“Were you okay without me, Sensei?” Genos asks when he’s home, after they sit on the floor with the tea that Saitama made in their hands. Their toes are touching under the table, but none of them is retracting their feet.
No, Saitama answers silently. “Sure, I can take care of myself,” he answers out loud.
Genos puts the cup on the table and stirs it around with his spoon, looking uneasy. He finally looks up at Saitama, who pretends that he hadn’t been staring already, and their eyes lock together.
“I missed you.” Genos can’t blush, but he says it in such a small and timid voice that he might as well do. “I don’t like being apart from Sensei for too long.” Two days were not a long time, but they sure felt like centuries for Saitama, so he understands exactly what Genos means.
“I don’t like it, either,” Saitama replies, honest for once. Genos straightens up and listens closely, waiting for more, as if he knows that Saitama is going to say something super embarrassing. “So be more careful. Don’t get hurt. This way, you won’t have to leave my side.” In contrast to Genos, Saitama can blush, and the heat he feels in his face suggests that he’s currently doing that.
Genos’ eyes widen in surprise and his mouth opens to say something, but he closes it, then opens it again and asks, full of hesitation and hope, “Can I come closer?”
Saitama scoots over instead of replying, but the message gets across successfully, because Genos is there only a moment later, pressed against him where their shoulders and thighs meet.
“Thank you, Sensei.” Saitama has no idea why Genos is thanking him.
“No problem,” he replies anyway. The tea suddenly feels too hot and he ignores it, willing his cheeks to stop flushing and his heart to subside to a normal speed. Shyness and embarrassment are the dominant emotions he’s feeling. He can’t decide if they’re good or not, but he’s glad they’re there.
He feels both anger and disappointment the next time he sees Genos being thrown away by another monster, flying into a tall building and having his limbs detached from the impact.
“I’m sorry, sensei,” he says after Saitama takes care of the monster. Genos doesn’t dare look him in the eye, but Saitama doesn’t want to look at Genos either.
“The fuck were you thinking?” He snaps, although he’s not yelling. “Why do you never listen? Do you enjoy getting beaten up? Is it fun? There’s no other explanation for you jumping into action so recklessly!”
“I’m sorry,” Genos repeats, more quietly. “I’ll become stronger.”
“Not if you’re dead!” Saitama retorts, knowing that he’s being too harsh but not caring at the moment. Nothing else has worked on Genos so far. Holding back is not an efficient approach.
Genos’ breath hitches and his body stiffens. “I wouldn’t die. It’s not that serious. Besides, what’s more important? Saving the city from a monster or my life?”
“Obviously your life, what the fuck!” Saitama’s voice does become louder this time, and he looks at Genos only to realize that there’s some kind of brown liquid building up in his eyes.
“When the Mad Cyborg attacked my town, it killed everyone but me. Many people were still in this city today. I wanted to save them even if it meant sacrificing my life, like I wish I could have done back then. Instead, the whole town died and I’m the only one who survived. It’s unfair,” Genos explains in one breath and a strained voice, and quickly buries his face in Saitama’s shirt. Saitama doesn’t really understand what’s going on, until he feels Genos’ body trembling and his chest heaving rapidly.
Genos is crying.
Saitama feels like crying, too.
Figuring that calming Genos down is more important than attaching his arms and legs back for now, and making sure that nobody’s around, he sits down on the side of the street, hugging Genos’ limbless body in his arms with the cyborg’s head still on his shoulder and his hands rubbing Genos’ back. “It wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing you could’ve done.” Genos only sobs louder in response. He’s an ugly crier, with oil running down his cheeks, his nose scrunched up, and his eyes shut so hard that it must cause him a headache, but Saitama knows that this is not the reason he doesn’t want to look at Genos right now. He can’t bear to see him like this, or his heart will definitely break.
So he holds Genos closer, wants to protect him, even if his immense, unpreceded strength is completely useless when it comes to fighting the insecurities Genos has to struggle with every day.
“Sensei, I have to become stronger,” he speaks up through his tears, and this time Saitama cups his head carefully and tilts it up so they can look into each other’s eyes.
“You’re strong. You’re the strongest person I know. I believe in you. You just have to be more careful, because I don’t want to lose you. Do you understand?” There’s no place for hesitation or coyness, not when Genos is doubting himself like that. He doesn’t know if his words have gotten his point across, but Genos exhales sharply and returns to his position on Saitama’s shoulder with muffled cries of, “Sensei, Sensei!”
They stay like this until darkness starts to fall around them and Saitama has to carry a now sleepy Genos to Kuseno’s lab. Even in his sleep, Genos thanks Saitama, and the latter feels something mixing with the reluctance to leave Genos there, something uneasy and needy.
He hasn’t put a name on this feeling yet, but he welcomes it, although it causes him some pain.
He feels it again the next day, as he’s sitting on the kitchen table. Genos is wearing his frilly pink apron and humming an anime song from an anime he doesn’t watch (Saitama does, which is probably how he knows it) as he cooks sardines in oil. Not one of Saitama’s favourites, but he’s okay with it if it means that Genos gets to smile like that.
“You’re kinda cute, you know?” Saitama says without thinking too much. Genos almost drops the pan he’s holding.
“I’m not cute! I’m a weapon of mass destruction!”
“The cutest one.”
“Sensei, please, don’t say things like that,” Genos whines, turning his head away. Saitama laughs a little at the adorable reaction that confirms his claims.
“Sorry, man, I meant it in a good way.” None of them talks after this, but Genos returns to his humming some time later, without knowing he’s doing it. He’s even coordinating his movements with the tune, tapping his fingers on the counter and swaying his head to the rhythm. The sight is so domestic and fluffy that Saitama feels somehow safer, as if it’s only them in the world; no monsters, no evil guys. Just them in their little kitchen.
“Sensei, do you think I should leave them on some more? I’m not sure they’re ready yet.”
Saitama walks up to him and stands behind him to inspect the food. “Hmm… I think they’re good.” Genos seems a little stiff suddenly. “What? Are you okay?”
“Yes, it’s just that I was kind of startled. A-And, you spoke into my ear.”
“Did I speak too loudly and scare you?”
“No! Not at all, I don’t mind.” Genos looks at him and notices that Saitama has a slightly worried expression, so he smiles to make sure that Saitama knows he’s honest. One of his small, closed-mouth smiles, but very genuine and cute, especially the way it makes his eyes look just a little bigger, a little like suns.
Saitama finds himself pulled toward Genos, as if gravity is the force guiding him, and without registering it, he finds his arms circling the cyborg’s waist. Even when he realizes what he’s doing, that he’s hugging Genos out of the blue, he doesn’t want to pull away.
“Sensei, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I am.” He knows it’s weird, that he should probably pull himself away and make up an excuse so that it won’t be awkward, but once he feels Genos wrapping his own arms around him in return and squeezing him close, Saitama lets out a content sigh. This feels good, no doubt about it. Better than the hug that time when Genos was crying and in need of repairs, definitely.
“Sensei, you’re soft.”
“Shut up.” Genos giggles a little, making Saitama smile, and the feeling he can’t describe is overwhelming right now, filling his chest with warmth in the nicest way possible. “Genos, do you smell something weird?”
“Ah! The sardines!”
Night is cold, even though his blanket is carefully draped around him. Genos had once told him that the human body loses a lot of heat from the head - and then claimed that bringing it up had nothing to do with the fact that Saitama is bald - but that must be the reason for how cold he feels right now.
He gets on his feet to turn the heater up, but it takes too much time, since it’s an old and malfunctioning one. He should really buy a new one. For now, he shuffles back to his futon and rubs his feet together to stop them from freezing.
“Sensei, why are you awake?”
“Oh, did I wake you up? Sorry, dude.”
“It’s fine.”
“I was just a little cold. It’s almost winter already, huh?”
“Yeah,” Genos answers, although it was a rhetorical question. There’s awkward silence for a while, during which Saitama tries to fall asleep and can feel Genos looking at him, until Genos speaks up again. “Sensei, did you know I have internal heaters? Which means that I can function as a heater myself.”
“For real? That’s so cool!”
“Yes. So…” Genos hesitates, unsure if he should say what he wants or if it’d be better to keep it to himself, but he decides to take his chances. “If you want, I can, um, warm you up?”
Saitama does feel warm instantly, particularly in his face. “Sure. Come over,” he makes up his mind, although there wasn’t really a dilemma there.
Genos drags his futon and places it right next to Saitama’s, then lies on it and pulls his own blanket and his roommate’s over both of them. “Okay, here I go,” he mutters and his chest lights up just a little. “I don’t want to burn you, so I’m going to keep it low.”
“That’s great, I already feel better.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Sensei. It’d be bad if you were ill.”
“Because you’d have to take care of me?”
“No, I like doing that!” Genos speaks before his mind catches up, and Saitama laughs at his flustered expression. “I mean, I like helping Sensei in every way that I can. But I want Sensei to be healthy, so I can’t let you get sick.”
“Alright, then I trust you to warm me up well.”
“Of course I will!” Saitama can see Genos’ eyes lighting up with determination and he smiles. Even if he gets sick, it can’t be that bad. Genos will be there for him, anyway, so he’ll be fine. Genos has always been pretty vocal about his will to assist him; he would trust the cyborg even where he wouldn’t trust himself.
And as his body gets warmer and the whir from Genos’ heater lulls him to sleep, Saitama feels secure in a way his strength has never managed to make him feel. Genos murmurs a “Good night, Sensei,” and Saitama returns it, before the younger manages to fall asleep. Even in the quietness of their room, Saitama can feel things.
He feels wanted and treasured. He feels loved.
In the morning, as he tries to blink his eyes open, he realizes that there’s no morning chill, just heat all around his body. Genos has moved closer during the night and is now in Saitama’s futon, in Saitama’s arms , with his blond mess of hair underneath Saitama’s chin and his hands clutching the front of Saitama’s shirt.
If he knew how many times Saitama has repeated the word “cute” in his mind right now, Genos would have definitely complained.
Saitama realizes that, like darkness is the absence of light, cold is nothing but the absence of Genos. The guy who takes notes whenever Saitama says something vague and fake-deep. The guy who lies about his favourite ice-cream flavour so he can have the same as Saitama. The guy who looks at Saitama as if he’s the whole world.
The nameless feeling makes his chest want to burst in butterflies and light and sugar, which would be gross. It’s weird, it definitely is, but it feels so right. His own hands had found their way around Genos, too, during the course of the night, and he retracts the one on top of the sleeping man. With it, he takes one of Genos’ hands and brings it to his lips.
The metal feels hard, but he doesn’t mind. It’s Genos’ hand, the one he uses to cook for him, clean for him, carry his shopping bags. Genos does so many things for him. Saitama wonders why he would settle for this, for him, when Genos could have everything he wanted.
As if sensing his negative thoughts, Genos cuddles closer to Saitama’s chest and nuzzles his head where Saitama’s neck and shoulder meet. It’s the most comfortable Saitama has felt in a long time, maybe ever, and he realizes it’s because they fit together so perfectly, like two halves of the same whole. The thought makes him grin from ear to ear and he feels silly, smiling in an empty room for no apparent reason, but he can’t bring himself to care, because he’s happy , he’s finally happy and it’s all because of Genos.
He carefully leans down to place a kiss at the top of the blond cyborg’s head. “I’ll make you happy,” he whispers, hoping that it will somehow reach Genos and give him some of the confidence he needs. “I’ll make you the happiest man alive.”
As he falls back asleep in the comfort of the cyborg’s arms, he succeeds to put a name on the anonymous emotion he’s been feeling so intensely every time Genos is around.
He feels love.