This was written for tumblr user marsh-mellow-toast for the secret santa genyatta! Chapter 01 out of 3, I hope you ppl here also like it :)

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Rating: I'd say Teen and up

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fighting scenes.

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Chapter 01

Genji looked around, feeling rather proud of himself.

He had pushed the couch away from the middle of the sitting room and to the side so he could fit his table in its place, and then set it for two –a nice, clean tablecloth, porcelain plates, crystal glasses… everything one would need. Yet, the thing that kept attracting his eyes was the ornate candlestick placed inconspicuously in the middle of the table. He felt almost self-conscious about it but pleased all the same, and he had to glance away again, cheeks dusting with red.

It was just a candle, and yet…

To keep his mind busy and stop staring at the obvious romantic setup, Genji walked towards the window, glancing out at the street. He was no cook –at most he could manage a mean ramen dish on his best days– but it did not matter, not tonight… so he'd just ordered pizza.

Not quite a romantic dish, especially with the fine setup, but he was the one who would eat it, and it felt wrong to order expensive, fancy stuff if his date could not enjoy it.

To offset this he'd placed an order for some very expensive oil, the brand that every major place in the city advertised as omnic delicacy. He hoped this would make a good impression, so they could both have something to enjoy other than one another.

He hoped.

He was fidgeting with his jacket when the doorbell rang, startling him; stumbling over himself in his haste to get to the door, he patted down his front to straighten his clothes and pushed the door open to reveal his date, and promptly felt his breath sucked out of him.

"Hello, Genji."

His date, Zenyatta, was standing there not in his normal attire but wearing a pretty turtleneck sweater, and for a moment Genji felt his heart flutter so much it made him feel faint, the soft pale blue of the sweater looking positively heavenly on Zenyatta's metallic frame. "Ah–"

"You look rather dashing," Zenyatta continued, ignoring the way Genji had stuttered. "Is that a new jacket?"

Finally, Genji's brain reconnected with the rest of his body, and he felt his cheeks burn. "I… yes. It's new– I… you also look beautiful. I never saw you wear a sweater before."

For a split second, Genji felt stupid –then Zenyatta giggled, shoulders shaking in mirth, and any embarrassment disappeared, replaced with a bubbly elation; he loved when Zenyatta laughed, the sound following him into his dreams more often than he'd care to admit.

That Zenyatta had agreed to date him after months of growing friendship… oh, Genji considered himself the luckiest man alive.

"I thought I could wear something nice for our date… I'm glad I did." Zenyatta tilted his head to the side, forehead array burning brightly. "Can I come in, now?"

Scrambling to move away from the entrance Genji let him in, wringing his hands together, wondering if it would be ok to lean in and kiss him, because he really wanted to, but what if it was too early, what if–

Zenyatta was suddenly close, face plate brushing against Genji's cheek, and he felt a lick of omnic energy caress his skin in a fluttery kiss before Zenyatta moved away. "I am glad you asked me out on a date, Genji," he murmured, voice soft and amused. "Thank you."

If not in fear of losing whatever little dignity he had left Genji would have slumped on the ground crying hot, grateful tears.

Instead he smiled, bright and happy, and wrapped one arm around Zenyatta's midsection, feeling the softness of the sweater give in where Zenyatta's circuits were not covered by his chassis.

"I'm the one who is grateful, Zen. I wanted to ask you out for… well, a long time," he admitted easily, the remaining flush on his cheeks softening as he smiled. "So… I know you do not eat, but I have found something I hope you will like."

He led Zenyatta into his apartment, and his heart fluttered again when Zenyatta chirped in surprise at the setup. Genji moved to the side, sliding out a chair and motioning for Zenyatta to sit down, which he did, one hand pressed against his mouth piece as he chuckled, then moved to sit in front of him, though not before dimming the lights of the room.

Genji did nothing half-assed.

"This is… incredible, Genji," the smile in Zenyatta's voice made Genji's heart soar. "You did all of this for me?"

"It was… it was nothing. I would do this and more for you," Genji murmured, honest and happy, as he lit the candle between them. "As I said, I've wanted this for… a very long time."

Zenyatta tittered, his fans spinning loudly enough that Genji could hear them, showing how flustered he was by Genji's words.

"I got this for you," Genji was about to present the bottle of expensive omnic oil to Zenyatta when his phone started to ring. "Ah– I'm sor–" fumbling with his phone in a quick attempt to interrupt the call, Genji froze, staring down at the caller ID.

"Is there a problem, my dear?"

"I… I have to take this call, sorry. It's… an emergency, I fear." With a sheepish look, Genji moved to the side and then out of the room, feeling disappointed and worried at the same time, hands shaking as he accepted the call. "Yes?"

On the other side, he could hear Hanzo's voice, a bit rough around the edges, call his name, urgent, sharp. "Genji! You need to come, we have… a situation."

"But– I'm…" he bit down on his lower lip, feeling annoyed at his brother, at the world, hands clenching down around the phone. "I was waiting for this for weeks and now–"

"Genji. I don't know what you are doing, but we need your help. There's a band of monsters attacking the mall, and they're spread out enough that we are not able to track all of them down at once. You need to come."

"Genji, please!" he could hear Jesse's voice echo from somewhere, sounding just as ragged as Hanzo did. "We'd be grateful for some help 'round here!"

Closing his eyes, Genji counted down to three, though he knew already what his answer was.

"… alright. Wait for me, I'm coming."

"Thank you. Whatever it is you wanted to do tonight, we'll make up for it."

With a deep sigh, Genji closed down the call, and straightened his back. He felt dejected, annoyed and defeated, but he knew he had a duty to fulfil, and even dating came second, no matter how much it hurt.

"Zenyatta…?"

He found Zenyatta looking down at his phone, fingers tapping something on it, and then his optical receptors looked up to him. "Yes? Is there a problem? You sound…"

"Yeah I… I'm sorry but… something came up and I need to go. It's an emergency and I didn't want to, and you just got here and–"

"Genji! It's alright. I trust you, it must be something truly important if you have to leave. You looked… happy when I got here. It made me happy, too, but if you want I can… wait? Or is it something that might take you a while?"

Startled, Genji looked at him, then at his own phone. Zenyatta had been at his house often, they were friends before he'd asked him out, so he had no problem letting Zenyatta stay there, but… "will it be ok? I'm… I'm sorry, Zen. I wanted this to be special, I wanted to spend time with you and I thought we could…" unable to hide his disappointment, Genji moved forwards, pressing his forehead against the crook of Zenyatta's collarbone, right between his shoulder and the pistons of his neck. "I'm sorry we didn't even have time to start."

"Oh, Genji. It's alright. I know you have a lot of… emergencies, but it's alright. I trust you to do what is right. I do not mind waiting, but if you end up being too late I'll just go home, alright? We can reschedule."

"We… we can?" suddenly hopeful, Genji moved away to look into Zenyatta's optical receptors. "You mean it? I didn't just ruin my chances?"

Again, Zenyatta laughed, amused and pleased. "Genji… you could never ruin your chances with me. I do like you a lot, I can wait. You are worth it."

Fumbling a bit, touched and emotionally compromised, Genji leaned forwards, pressing a flurry of small kisses all over Zenyatta's face plate, feeling it heat under his lips, that delightful laughter making his heart flutter. "Thank you. I'll try to solve this emergency as quickly as I can! I promise!"

When he arrived at the mall, Genji realised that his hopes about ending the emergency quickly might have been a bit too optimistic.

The mall was… trashed, and it was an understatement.

The area had three different buildings all inter-connected with one another, and each wing had its own set of shops and stores, and from where Genji stood, on top of a nearby building, he could see that there were destroyed walls that allowed him to see inside the mall, and the parking lot was also trashed.

"Well… shit," he murmured, cracking his knuckles.

The police and the firefighters were already directing people away from the mall, their lights blaring into the dark, and he hoped no one had gotten hurt.

Genji Shimada, donning the suit of the green sentai ranger, straightened his back and opened his communication device. "Oy, I'm here. Where are you guys?"

Hanzo –his older brother and also part of the sentai force– answered right away. "white sentai and I managed to drag a couple monsters away from the mall and into the deserted construction site on the right, the one where they were planning to build another wing for the mall. Pink sentai and purple sentai are chasing two more monsters towards the pool building on the other side of the block, but there's another monster that seems to be directed towards the school a few blocks away, and we cannot hunt it down. You have to take on that one alone, green sentai. Do you think you can manage?"

Genji cursed under his breath. "Of course! Hang in there, I'll finish with that one and come back to help you."

"Just be wary and don't rush into battle, brother," Hanzo murmured, for a moment breaking his Sentai persona, sounding worried. "We usually fight in groups but this time, we were outnumbered and we feel this might be a planned attack. Take care of yourself."

"I will, brother. Do not worry for me." Genji's voice was warm before he closed down the connection, instantly jumping off the ledge of the building and taking off towards the school district.

At first he could not find any trace of the monster in the dark, with only the streetlights to help him along the way, but he soon picked up on the trail of destruction, following a path of broken down trees and even a few cars that looked stepped over, and he hoped that no one would get hurt before he could hunt down the monster.

It was evening, so the school was closed down, and he was thankful because having to work alone to save kids while stopping a monster would have been too much, but he still needed to get there quickly, or there would be no school in the morning.

It had taken him a bit to get there, as his apartment was quite far and despite his augmented speed Genji was no jet, but it relieved him to see that the trail of destruction was pretty straightforward and once he started to follow it, it did not deviate once, straight towards the school district.

When he did get to the school, though…

It was still standing.

No destruction, no sounds of walls being smashed, no laughter or screaming anywhere… just silence.

There was no monster anywhere.

Genji hesitated, jumping over the fence surrounding the school and into the courtyard, and looked around. There was absolutely no trace of the monster, and nothing seemed broken. It was almost as if the monster had disappeared into thin air.

His hand moved to the communication device, ready to contact Hanzo again and ask for support, when something rustled behind him and he spun around, one hand shooting forwards to summon his sword, and then–

"Greetings."

There, standing in front of him, was the Cultist.

Genji froze, still in position, the glow in his hands not a fully developed blade, but still on edge.

"You," he murmured.

"It is only respectful to offer a greeting when one salutes you first," the Cultist commented, voice almost soft despite the metallic tinge. "Were you seeking something?" he paused, and when Genji did not answer he continued, "… a monster, perhaps?"

"I did find it," Genji answered, coolly, standing back a little. "I found you."

The Cultist chuckled, and the sound made a shiver run down Genji's back.

He could have sworn he'd heard it before, somewhere, except not quite, but he was distracted by having an enemy stand in front of him, so he did not pay much attention to the details.

"Now, now. That is not quite correct, is it? You were chasing down a monster just now… the cause for all this… ruckus." The Cultist pointed a finger in the direction Genji had just come from, though Genji did not wish to turn around. "I must say you are… late."

Genji blinked under his mask, confused. "What… what do you mean?" worry coiled around his stomach.

"I have… already disposed of the monster, you see," the Cultist continued, pressing his fingers together –yet another gesture Genji found oddly familiar. "I did not wish to have our time interrupted."

"… our time?" baffled, Genji took a small step back, then his eyes narrowed and he smirked, though the Cultist could not see it underneath his mask. "I see you wish to be defeated, huh? Well, I can certainly grant you that!"

"If you wish to accompany our amiable talk with some sparring, I would not be against it," the Cultist hummed, seemingly pleased. "There is always much to say, and I cannot deny how pleasant your company is, more so when we are alone, and–"

Genji did not allow him to finish talking, because he dashed forwards, summoning his powers in a flurry of green light shaped into shuriken.

The Cultist moved away at the last moment, avoiding the attack, one of the shuriken nicking the edge of his cape, and landed a few feet away from Genji. "That was particularly rude of you, Green Sentai… usually you'd have the tact to let the opponent talk, first."

"Oh, certainly! You can just keep on talking, while I take you down!" Genji prepared another attack, taking a step forwards.

The Cultist was renowned for his silver tongue, the ability to make others misstep, twist and turn words until his opponents stumbled and hesitated, confused. He had tried often to have his way with Genji, spinning webs of words that had almost managed to make him stop and listen, though his wordplay was mostly confusing, and Genji always had the feeling that the Cultist was trying, and so very hard at that, to communicate something to him that he kept missing.

He also rarely fought, though whenever Genji managed to push him into it, it was always a spectacle to see, as the Cultist knew martial arts to a degree that Genji had not seen before in his life, and if not for the fact that the Cultist worked against him, he would have respected him for those skills.

Genji did not know why the Cultist tried so hard to talk with him –he could understand mutual respect, as Genji was just as good, and there was no false modesty in this admission, since Genji knew his own prowess, but the Cultist also knew that of all people Genji would never be enticed as to change sides.

In fact, Genji sometimes had wondered, in his fascination with this enemy who barely fought, who only used his words, and yet could have fought them into submission without breaking sweat, if he could have tried to entice him to come to their side instead.

Not that he would admit such thing with anyone –especially not his own team, his friends, his brother.

They would call him a fool for hoping that words could do what nothing else could, and yet…

And yet.

Genji still found part of him wishing for that, but he knew not how to achieve it, and in the end, there was still another part of him that not knowing how to proceed, preferred the only kind of conversation he knew how to perform –fighting.

Words could be twisted into things they were not meant to be, and the Cultist was skilled at that, but fighting… that art knew not about hiding.

"You are a frustrating individual, green sentai," the Cultist murmured, and Genji faltered for a split second, as the fondness he could hear in his tone was too real to be faked. "Yet all I wish is for you to understand."

"What should I understand?" Genji attacked again, and yet again the Cultist avoided his attack, spinning just out of the way, his movements Spartan, not a single inch of his body moving out of tune, and Genji's eyes followed him, the curve of his hooded back, the shackled wrists, and when he caught himself staring, he berated himself. "Believe it or not, I am not quite as versed in riddles as you are. Unless you speak plainly, I will not understand."

That made the Cultist pause, tilting his head to the side –yet another familiar gesture, but Genji, for some reason, could not place it. The tentacles on his mouth wriggled lazily, and drew Genji's attention.

All of the Cultist made Genji feel curious, intrigued, and perhaps that might be part of the reason he wished to offer the Cultist a way to redeem himself. It was such a waste for that skilled, intelligent…. creature?… to be siding with the enemy.

"Indeed, I have noticed this, but there is no way I could ever be clearer than I am, or else…" one of Cultist's hands flew to his throat, partially obscured by his hood, and Genji wondered, once again, what that gesture meant.

He'd seen him do it often, in the past, over the course of the months they'd faced one another in combat.

It came up only once in a conversation, but then the Cultist had been tense, strained, in ways he'd never been. Genji had thought the matter important, but in the middle of a battle, with other monsters coming out to fight, he had not pursued such thought.

"Throat aching, Cultist?" he called out, and just because the idea of talking was still uncomfortable, though they were doing exactly this, Genji threw another handful of green shuriken.

This time, the Cultist caught one of them in his hand, apparently unharmed despite the nature of Genji's weapon –yet another detail that baffled Genji– and twirled it in his fingers, slowly.

"Robotic creatures do not… ache, in such a way," was the cryptic answer, and though his voice sounded weird, glitchy, Genji froze.

Robotic creature.

He'd known the Cultist for months now, and though he did look… not entirely organic, he'd pushed the thought back, hard pressed to notice much when his interest was elsewhere, but somehow the thought seemed more important now.

"Does seem to bother you a lot, though."

To that, the Cultist chuckled again, and then, surprising Genji who had not expected it, he darted forwards.

He was not fast –not to Genji's level at least– but he caught Genji unaware, and was able to get close enough to him that he could have seriously harmed him if he so chose… and yet he did not.

Instead, the Cultist ran one finger down the side of Genji's sentai mask, from cheek to chin, slowly.

The gesture was oddly intimate, and Genji felt his cheeks burn crimson at the idea, unsure how to take such action, nor his own reaction to it.

"I–"

"Do you worry, sentai, about my health?" there was amusement in his tone, and yet… the same fondness as before, and it made Genji ache, somehow, for something he knew hot how to decipher. "How… wonderful. To think you would feel such way towards me…"

"I do not!" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, but the quick denial was too abrupt to sound honest, and it was not.

Somehow, for some reason, Genji did care.

It was perhaps his fascination with the Cultist, or the conversations they had about idle things or about their respective stance in their conflict, or the mind games the Cultist always seemed to have, or perhaps it was because a part of Genji was, not just intrigued, but attracted, to the Cultist, or… or…

Genji's head snapped back, refusing to acknowledge such thoughts.

"Oh, how disappointing." And yet the Cultist's voice was still amused, and somehow pleased. "I will manage to make you understand, soon. Somehow."

The hand was still against his chin, Genji realised, but as he moved to bat it away, the motion misplaced the Cultist's hood just enough that he could catch a quick, fleeting view of his neck.

There was… a necklace, perhaps, or a collar of sorts, around his neck, snugly fit between his pistons.

It was similar to the one Genji had seen other omnics wear as fashion statement, but it was glowing green, just like the Cultist's forehead array, which he now knew was mechanic, not organic as he'd thought it was before.

Somehow, he suspected this was not just for fashion, but he could not understand the connection… if there was one.

Instead of fixing on such tiny details, Genji chose to move away from the Cultist, refusing to allow himself the leisure of thinking about the closeness and the monster's ease around him, and instead got ready to fight once again.

"Such hurry," the Cultist murmured, though there was, yet again, a teasing tone to his voice that Genji could not understand. "Do you need to end this pleasant meeting so soon? I would not wish to hold you up if you have any other… plans."

With a startled yelp, Genji remembered he'd been in the middle of a date with Zenyatta –sweet, darling Zenyatta, so precious in his new sweater– and felt a wave of shame and embarrassment because in the heat of the moment he'd managed to forget about it.

"Of course I have other plans –even a quiet evening alone would be better than having to be here," his tone was challenging, as if daring the Cultist to offer him an alternative.

What he got, instead, was a low, amused chuckle. "Oh, you do not truly believe that. It is why I chose to come to you…" again, the Cultist advanced, extending one hand towards Genji, yet this time Genji resisted and moved away, and though the Cultist did not attempt to reach out for him again, he also did not appear to be upset by the obvious rejection. "All I wish is for you to realise a few things, green sentai –for there is no one else I would trust with… this."

The Cultist made a small motion with both hands, appearing to encompass his whole body, but the way his wrists were angled made Genji think he was simply pointing at his hooded face, or… perhaps, at his neck.

Again, Genji felt as if he was missing something important, but at the moment, it was nothing he wished to think about.

He took a step back and readied his hand, the blade coming into existence through the powers he called forth.

"No time for playing, I have somewhere to be, and it is way more important than you." He grinned under his mask, cheeky and self-assured, and was not surprised when the Cultist instead relented, moving back into a contemplative stance.

After all, he rarely fought, and Genji had not given him enough of an incentive to, this time.

"Hmmm… I see. Well then. Until next time, yes?" and fast, faster than Genji could usually see him move, the Cultist darted forwards, invading Genji's personal space again.

He gasped, and a familiar smell –something metallic with a lingering scent underneath he could not readily place– wafted to his nostrils, sweet and intoxicating.

"I will let you go back to your date, sentai. There is still time, after all."

Cultist's hand travelled down Genji's chest, making him shiver, and then he stepped away, the tentacles on his mouth wriggling slowly, lazily, and then he was gone, leaving Genji behind, befuddled and wide-eyed, heart racing in his chest.

It was only much later that he remembered the Cultist's words and wondered, surprised and worried –how did the Cultist know he'd been in the middle of a date?