Chapter Text
It had started slowly, or at least that’s what the cyborg though as his eyes abandoned his notebook in favour of studying the source of his notes itself. His sensei was shirtless which was not unusual since one of the hero’s many redeemable qualities was not giving a shit about what people thought about him and he’d even met the man literally stark naked in an empty street. His smooth skin completely unharmed by a blast that could level buildings but had left him with nothing but a few tendrils of smoke swirling around perfectly formed muscles and flawless skin.
Genos jolted at the memory as a small hiss of steam vented from his shoulders and his fans kicked up a speed to keep him from overheating. His usual frown deepened slightly as he shook his head and took an unnecessary deep breath. This is what had happened slowly, his wandering thoughts and eyes running over his sensei admiring every inch of lean, perfectly sculpted muscle in the painstaking clarity that only his eyes could achieve. He had told himself that it was studying and true it had started that way as he’d attempted to discover the secret of the god like strength his teacher possessed but now well now….
His eyes roved over sensei’s shoulders as he lay on his stomach reading one of his usual manga, his elbows propping him up on the futon forcing his back into an elegant curve lit perfectly by the overhead light accentuating every single rise and crevice from shoulders down to the dip at the base of his spine where his ass began. Shifting his gaze Genos’ eyes narrowed pondering the reaction of the flesh there if he were to lay his palm against it in a gentle slap: firm, supple, pliant, warm….
“Eh Genos you okay,” the bald man asked, breaking the silence and snapping Genos out of his daydream and meeting his gaze with his deep brown eyes.
“I’m fine sensei,” he answered automatically, his voice too loud in the small apartment; the blond suddenly grateful he was no longer capable of blushing.
“Cos you sound like you’re about to boil over,” the bald hero added as he turned back to his manga.
Letting off another puff of steam Genos attempted to slow his fans as he realized that his inappropriate sensei centred day dream had in fact left him sounding like an abandoned tea kettle.
“My apologies sensei,” the cyborg barked, bowing his head in his teacher’s direction, “Should I start dinner to make up for the disturbance,” he added quickly.
Jumping into action at his sensei’s small nod Genos hurried into the small kitchen, relieved to have put some space between himself and Saitaima, although he wasn’t completely out of sight. It only took a slight lean to catch a glimpse of the top of his head and the strong clean curve of his throat the smooth pale skin almost begging to mapped out and marked by curious lips. Squaring his shoulders as he rummaged for ingredients the cyborg’s usual scowl settled even deeper into his artificial skin. He was 600 pounds of weaponry with enough fire power to level a city. He was not a hormonal teenager, at least not physically, and he had no right to be ogling sensei like that no matter how admirable and admittedly out of his league the man was. Besides it was completely pointless, one of the first things he’s heard his sensei say was that he wasn’t interested in men, so this crush was little more than an exercise in potential heartache… not that he even had a heart anymore.
Gritting his teeth he picked up a knife and began preparing dinner, he despised the word his mind had supplied for his feelings towards his teacher, like he was just some starry eyed school girl or worse some besotted fan. Sensei was an admirable man. He was humble and selfless… and attractive his thoughts tacked on unbidden. Bolting upright as a flash of pain crossed his censors Genos hissed, more out of shock than anything else as he noted the ragged cut across the rubber pad of his index finger, apparently even an advanced fighting machine was still prone to cuts if they weren’t paying attention. Almost shoving the offending digit into his mouth out of sheer habit the blonde paused as sensei’s head peered into the kitchen, a look almost like concern ghosting over his usually expressionless face.
“You okay Genos,” he asked.
“I’m fine sensei, it’s just some minor damage,” the cyborg responded, flinching slightly as sensei’s hands were suddenly wrapped around his wrist holding his wounded finger up for inspection.
Eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer a small sigh escaped the bald hero’s lips before he focused on Genos’ face, “Dude you need to be more careful, you could hurt yourself ya know,” the he insisted.
“Not really sensei,” the cyborg countered dully, “I’d be more worried about the knife,” he pointed out.
Eyeing the slightly dented knife Saitama shrugged carelessly, “It’s replaceable,” he muttered.
“So am I,” Genos argued flatly, trying unsuccessfully to pull his wrists from the grip of the man who could level mountains with a single blow, despite holding him like he was something fragile or precious… like he was human.
“Not all of you,” the bald hero pointed out, “So just be more careful will ya," he added, soft lips pressing gently across the torn skin of Genos’ finger before the cyborg could argue and disappearing back to the lounge area quicker than should be humanly possible. Leaving him with a strange warmth against the metal of his wrist and an even stranger feeling in his core.