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Senku marches out of the hospital and goes straight to Gen, who’s waiting for him by his car. He has a crazy, determined look on his face.
“I’m high on painkillers so I’m just gonna fucking say this.” He starts, almost winded.
Gen doesn’t even have time to get a word in, ask about his wrist or lead him to the car, because Senku intakes a short breath and continues.
“I was so stupid. I only wanted to know about science, and going to space, and spending time in the lab, and studying- and you were in love with me, but I didn’t care about any of that so I ignored it and pretended not to know. Fuck, how could I do that?”
Gen almost shrieks and runs away, he can’t believe Senku just outed his high school feelings like that, even when Gen never spoke a word of them. He only bottled it up through the subsequent years, knowing it wouldn’t flourish and until it wasn’t a thing that plagued his every thought. But of course Senku knew; Gen was naive to think otherwise. He has a talent for masking his true emotions, that’s for sure, but not quite when it comes to Senku-chan.
“Now you have ten billion things going on simultaneously, you are barely here, we are always so busy so we end up seeing each other like thrice a year and when we do meet, I sprain this shit and we have to come to the hospital? I hate this and I hate that you don’t care for me like you used to-”
Not true.
“And I know this is useless, this ridiculous rambling, since I’ve seen you go from infatuated to resigned, and then numb, and finally happy and not in love. Still, I needed to say it, it was about to burst and it did- and here it is- now I’m the one in love with you, Gen. Do with that what you want.”
What Gen wants is out of this conversation, he wants it so bad. He doesn’t want this delayed confession, the epitome of his teenager dreams. How dare Senku-chan throw this in his hands when Gen never did it to him? He doesn’t want to deal with this thing all over again. Gen is proud and shallow and he already cursed Senku numerous times. Gen is a catch, okay, and if Senku doesn’t want him, he can go fuck himself. This was Gen’s fresh-out-of-high-school thought process, by the way.
But now, as an adult working in a field he loves, Gen is less combative. He doesn’t want to hear that Senku’s in love with him – oh god, did someone just petrify him here? – because Gen likes the status quo. Sure, he wants to meet more often as well, but how many people can say they are close friends with Ishigami Senku? It’s good, it’s such a good thing already. Gen gets plenty out of it. And it’s overused, a dumb cliche, laughable even, but he doesn’t want to ruin this friendship. Because he has to weigh everything when it comes to this. If things go south, he wouldn’t just lose Senku, which is apocalyptic in itself. Gen is convinced everyone else would leave too, everyone he met through Senku, his lovely friends, making him alone once again.
He won’t have it.
Gen looks up to the sky and tries to collect his thoughts, messy and conflicting from beginning to end. He sighs heavily, runs a hand through his hair and looks back at Senku. A chilly gust of wind plays with the longer strands of his hair and, again, without a word and for the first time in years, Gen lets his still present affection flood his eyes.
See? He got even better, he fooled Senku-chan as well.
And maybe it’s the medicine again, working wonders beyond its prescription, but Senku, with those passionate eyes of his, turns the passion to Gen. It is raw, and unafraid, and the first time Gen sees it directed at him – or maybe the first time he lets himself acknowledge it.
Instead of being reasonable, like Gen insists he wants to, he wags his tail like a puppy desperate for any kind of attention from its owner and asks – low, whispered, vulnerable, like an invite,
“So. What do you want to do?”
Senku doesn’t waste a millisecond and, by the time the last syllable is out, he is in Gen’s face. He corners him in and buries his fingers in his hair. Everything’s so rushed, their lips meet as if time has accelerated and they need to catch up.
Senku-chan on him, oh, Gen feels his knees about to give out – but the car is a good support. Senku too, he pulls on his lips and keeps Gen there, planted and receiving each of his kisses. Gen tugs desperately on Senku’s coat and whimpers when their tongues first touch. To his surprise and elation, Senku moans as well – a deep little thing, oh god –, keeping Gen’s face trapped in between his hands, as if afraid he’ll suddenly vanish if he lets go.
Fuck, where did he learn to kiss like this?
Like the world’s about to end?
Gen feels so hot all of a sudden, and he breathes heavily when Senku apparently decides he won’t disappear if they are not kissing. He doesn’t let go of him, though; Senku presses their bodies together in a hug, breathing in Gen’s clothes, his adorable familiar lavender scent.
Gen delivers a light punch to Senku’s ribs, entirely fond and smitten when he immediately places his hand back on it and caresses gently. He pouts exaggeratedly.
“I hate you. I don’t want to be chosen as an afterthought. I want you obsessed with me. You’re so stupid.”
Senku laughs on his shoulder, joyful and carefree. Looks back at his love and lets his own shine through. The replies to his sentences, Senku delivers with a kiss at each period.
“I love you. You are not. I am. I am.”