Chapter Text
There isn’t a lot of space in the apartment. Saitama sticks to pretty much the same habits anyway, sprawling out on the floor with a book in one hand and the other fitted behind his head. They’ve dried and put away the dishes, so Genos is seated back at the table doing his usual after-dinner stuff too, pencil scratching quietly away at the pages of his notebook.
Saitama doesn’t even notice that Genos has his back towards him for once, until his elbow brushes some part of Genos’ foot by accident. He probably wouldn’t even have noticed the contact much, either, if Genos hadn’t just jolted in surprise.
“Oh. Did I -- sorry.” He makes to shift away a little and sees Genos turn briefly to give him a smile over his shoulder.
“It’s fine, Sensei.”
Normally Saitama would’ve just returned to reading his manga after that. He ends up staring blankly up at the page and then lowering the book to stare at the soles of Genos’ feet instead. Or at least, the visible parts that are sticking out from under his seiza posture.
So Genos can still be ticklish too. Huh.
Is that even necessary?
It occurs to him that it’s probably the first time he’s looking - actually looking at the undersides of Genos’ feet. There are thin, black patches of some silicon or rubber material, covering the metal at each pressure point, even on the undersides of his toes. Kind of like the pads on a cat’s paws...? Except not as squishy. Maybe it’s to help Genos feel pressure and stuff when he walks, or something.
Saitama wonders why he’s never noticed this aspect of his cyborg body before.
Before he knows it he’s reaching out to gently poke at one of the pads on the ball of Genos’ left foot, and Genos lets out a small startled yelp, eyes wide and his body half-snapping out of seiza in reflex as it tries to yank his leg away.
“S-sensei?!”
“-Dude.” Well, Saitama has the whole foot more or less in his grip now. He brushes a thumb lightly over the pads, really just curious - and this time there’s a full rush of air that escapes Genos, almost like a laugh, Genos trying to twist out from his grasp and pretty much ending up on his bum, legs unfolded from their previous position. “Can’t you like, turn the sensitivity off or down or something?”
“I -” Somehow Genos looks like a kid who’s just been caught trying to sneak extra cookies from the cookie jar. “--If you’re interested in how these sensor pads function, I can always...”
He’s never seen Genos look that flustered and... embarrassed before. Hell, he’s never even seen Genos laugh before. All those stellar punchlines Saitama comes up with are always kind of wasted on him.
Saitama feels himself grin. “...Your choice.” He sits up and grabs Genos’ leg around the calf - not hard enough to dent it but enough that Genos probably can’t pull it away that easily - and attacks, poking the arch of his foot and scratching at the pads.
Genos yelps , the laughter bursting from him as he collapses back and onto his elbows for support, trying in vain to squirm away. Saitama doesn’t let up. Genos’ laughter is nice, loud and clear and ringing, helpless as he struggles rather comically under the tickling. Howling, now - and gasping for air.
“S-stop, sen-s-sensei - I can’t --” More laughing and another jerk out of reflex (that fails and does nothing to help his situation of course) as Saitama targets the tiny pads on his toes. “Stop, stop, p-please! ”
“Okay, okay,” Saitama drops the tormented foot.
He waits only long enough to see Genos sag onto his back and crack open his eyes to look at him before he seizes the other leg and goes straight for the middle of Genos’ sole - the most sensitive, clearly - grinning and feeling particularly evil when Genos lets out a choked, “Sensei-! ” and the laughing howls of protest start all over again.
It’s almost contagious. And actually kind of fun, making Genos react like that.
“...Oh, hey,” Saitama releases the second foot, curiosity renewed. “So are you ticklish in the other usual places too or is it just -”
Genos lifts a hand that has drifted to cover his face. “I... I’m not sure. I’ve never…”
A small strangled noise and a twitch as Saitama reaches up to prod the softer parts under his pectoral plates and artificial ribcage.
“Ooh,” Saitama smiles. And that’s all the warning he decides to give Genos before he settles himself on top of Genos’ hips and starts wiggling his fingers into his sides. Genos is gone at that, shouting and shaking with laughter and wriggling helplessly, blindly trying to grab at Saitama’s hands - as if he’d have any hope of stopping him even if he manages to catch his wrists. Not happening, man.
“Sensei-- Sensei please, m-mayday, mayday, I surrender --!! ” Still laughing and gasping, voice starting to glitch. “Sensei I can’t tur-- c-can’t think enough to- -to-tu-urn it, down like this, please, p-please stop, enough-- y-y-ou win! I can’t--”
Okay, Saitama’s not that heartless, really. He relents and sits back, folding his arms as he watches Genos’ laughter finally die down - but he can’t resist a last playful jab to the spot on Genos’ left side once it seems like Genos has let his guard down again, too.
Genos gives a laughing yelp, hands flying forward again in defense. This time Saitama lets him catch hold of his wrist, smiling.
He’s been grinning and smiling for so long his face is kind of starting to hurt, actually.
Saitama can’t remember the last time that happened.
Genos is smiling up at him too. It’s the goofiest smile the guy has ever given him, lopsided and relaxed without any smugness and just... Well, it looks happy. His core thing is still humming louder than usual, like it’s overheating, and he looks like he’d be red-faced from all that laughing by now if he still had some of his other organic parts.
So this is what Genos is like when he’s finally loosened up.
And Saitama is struck again, in that moment, by how very much... human Genos still is. Vulnerable, in a way, in spite of all the metal and artificial parts he gained with this body - and still just a teen, for crying out loud. He’ll be hitting the big 20 soon, sure, but. Still.
And he realizes he’s still sitting on Genos’ hips.
“...Guess Kuseno really is a genius, huh.”
He can’t think of anything else to say, climbing off Genos’ lap and then shifting back to lean on the palms of his hands while he looks at him.
“He is,” Genos agrees, sitting up with one of the smiles that Saitama’s more used to. “I am very fortunate to have met him. And I am equally fortunate to have met you, Saitama-sensei, if not even more so.”
“Okay, now you’ve just made it weird again.”
“I mean it!” Genos actually leans forward a bit, amber eyes glowing bright in their sockets. He’s back in seiza, all serious.
There’s a pause. Genos presses his lips together, eyes dropping to stare at his pencil and notebook.
“I... Thank you, Sensei.” Quietly, still looking away. “It’s been a long time since I was able to laugh like that.”
“-Oh. Yeah, sure.” Saitama gives him a smile. “No problem.”
There are a few more awkward seconds of silence, and then Genos turns back to the table and begins writing furiously, like he’s just received another new stroke of wisdom from him.
Saitama doesn’t really see what’s so remarkable about any of it. He lies down again and picks up his manga.
He finds, after awhile, that the pictures aren't making any sense and that he's been staring at the same page for a full minute, not processing any of the words.
It’s like the image of Genos squirming and laughing on the floor has now been burned into his brain. He looks at his book, but all he sees is Genos’ laughter, the way it instantly sweeps across his whole face in delight, the way it scrunches up Genos’ eyes until it looks like he’s about to cry. He sees Genos’ dopey smile, beaming up at him as though there’s absolutely nowhere else Genos would rather be in that moment. The laughter itself is pretty much still ringing in his ears, bright and pleasant and stirring something warm and strange within Saitama’s chest.
Turning to look at Genos again doesn’t make it much better. The warm buzzing becomes stronger and Saitama can feel his heartbeat picking up, like he’s about to have the first good fight in a long long time - except there’s nothing and no one to actually fight with. Only Genos, who’s just made him smile a whole lot. Genos, who seems to be the source of the warmth that is rising in his chest and making him feel like he needs to go out and do something -- no, like he wants to go out and do something, together, because it’s a nice night out so why not?
That might be it. Just an itch to get out and stretch his legs for fun. Enjoy the night air, release his own pent-up energy, or something.
“Hey Genos.” Saitama sits up. “Race you to the nearest Lawson’s for ice-cream?”
“Yes, Sensei!”