A/N: I messed up. Disregard a ton of mistakes of things I've sad about Genos in the past. Oh god I'm so embarrassed.
Anyway. Inspired by a piece of fan art.
Let Me Touch You
Saitama suddenly looked up from his manga to stare at Genos, who was on the other side of his living room, on his computer. He wasn't sure why the thought suddenly occurred to him, but why did Genos only have normal skin on his face? He claimed that doctor he went to made him as human as possible. Dr. Stein? Dr. Stink? Something like that. Saitama recalled their small spar and how he just poked him.
The boy's cheek was really squishy, which kind of reminded him of a baby.
Saitama snorted.
Yet when eighty percent of Genos' face was missing via being torn off or whatever injury he recklessly got, it seemed as fragile as paper. Saitama moved to sit up completely and retrieved a bookmark, placing it within the manga at hand, then set it aside.
"Genos."
The teen in question halted what he was doing to turn to his teacher, sitting on his knees in front of the coffee table at full attention.
"Yes."
"Uh, just hold still for a moment." Saitama said, crawling forward then stopping once he was nearly touching knees with Genos.
Genos blinked when the other man poked his cheek, gently, moving the skin around. Saitama leaned in closer, watching the small pores of the boy's skin react to his touch. By all means, it looked like normal, though flawless, human skin. The smallest flashes of white teeth showed when Saitama's thumb ran along the side of Genos' mouth and his nose bent slightly, but not completely when he prodded the tip.
The teen was silent, though gave a clear curious expression. Once Saitama's hand met his chin, gently nudging, he spoke.
"Teacher, may I ask what this is about? I can explain the functionality of my skin if you are curious."
"Eh." Saitama glanced to Genos' eyes before focusing back to his skin. "Nah. I think seeing it for myself is a bit more clear."
The older man scooted himself closer, placing both hands on Genos' cheeks and pushing and pulling. One thumb ran across one of Genos' blond eyebrows, feeling the soft hair on his skin.
Genos would have begun sweating if he could when Saitama's eyes met his own and stared at him with the intensity he'd only seen from Dr. Stench during an operation. He wasn't sure why, but he leaned back when Saitama leaned forward, their foreheads almost touching, yet the other man persisted and kept gazing. Genos could sense his teacher's body heat from his thermal sensors.
Then, Saitama began pressing the skin on his cheekbones until his eyes couldn't see, going in a slow circle until both his index fingers were at the corners of his tear ducts.
"Can you cry, Genos?"
The boy nearly jumped at the question despite the other speaking so softly.
"I can."
"Hmm, can you cry from pain?"
Genos was quiet before answering.
"Not physical."
Saitama paused his prodding to meet Genos' eyes once more, then resumed, tracing a finger along where his human skin met his metallic body right under his chin. Genos watched as Saitama's hands found their way to his synthetic head of hair, patting, and running his fingers through it. Genos could feel the fibers bending through the sensors dedicated to the top of his skull, being a rather vital portion of his being.
Saitama inspected a single spike with interest, then leaned in to sniff it.
"Huh, smells like hair spray."
"My hair fibers are scented. I can-"
"Nah, it's fine. Open your mouth."
Genos complied, tilting his head back and Saitama peered inside. He wasn't exactly sure about sticking his hand Genos' mouth. Cyborg or not, it still seemed weird and he wasn't a doctor, but his mouth looked like any other human mouth, yet he could see artificial tubing and some wiring where flesh and veins should be closer to the back of his throat. His breath smelled like mint and electricity which was the weirdest combination Saitama experienced. Gently pushing the back of Genos' head forward, he patted the boy's hair affectionately.
"Thanks. I guess I can stop thinking about that now."
"Um. Of course."
Just as Saitama settled back into a comfortable position with his manga, a thought struck him.
Why did he need to brush his teeth anyway?