8 Punch: Trial and Error (or four times Genos gets cockblocked and the one time he finally has his Sensei where he wants him) NSFW
It was glaring obvious when Saitama and Genos started dating.
It wasn't them standing a bit too close to one another or the fact that the appearance of one meant a high possibility that the other wasn't too far off. Nor the evident way the stoic cyborg's demeanor shifted from the dark and serious countenance to one of reverence and adoration when Saitama did—well, anything. It wasn't the fact that Saitama felt more comfortable when Genos was around, was more outspoken when the other was by his side, nor the fact that they'd been living like a married couple for months in domestic bliss with a bit of crime-fighting on the side.
No, they'd pretty much been like that since King knew them.
Now, there was absolutely no way of even mistaking their behavior as anything but romantic.
Because now, King rarely saw Saitama go anywhere without Genos's hand in his, fingers laced intimately together, or an arm snaked round the hero's waist, keeping him protectively close against a metal body that was positively (and audibly) whirring with happiness. Now, Saitama's title ofSensei had been extended to My Beloved Sensei (and a myriad of others that never failed to make the man about as uncomfortable as he was happy for his friends). Now, the quiet looks of admiration and affection and bouts of praise had blown to obvious kisses (whether a small peck on the cheek, forehead, and lips or the steamier variant better made for dramatic partings rather than Genos going to the store to buy more kombu stock) and open declarations of love, more often than not from the cyborg's end.
But now, it was also seeing Saitama smile a lot more (and blush too—the shade of red his ears could turn was certainly interesting), seeing the way he openly accepted the affection (he only made Genos stop when every last inch of his face was completely flushed), and seeing his friend generally more…lively. The bored looks were still there, but they were few and far between compared to before. And there was a brightness in his eyes that King had only ever seen a handful of times before he and Genos appeared one morning, hand in hand like it was always meant to be that way.
They were obviously dating.
And obviously, Saitama was his friend and hero and even though King knew he was a coward, he would stand by him and do his part to keep him was precisely why he was here.
King sighed, face reddening at the…mortifyingly obvious actions taking place behind that door. Nevertheless, he clutched his new game along with the last bits of his courage and prepared to knock. Or, rather he would have, had his cardiac condition decided its Roaring Engine could do a better job.
"What—what's that pounding—?"
Scratch that. That was Saitama, voice breathless as the shuffling from within stopped and King decided that he needed to bolt immediately.
"The pounding hasn't started yet, Master…"
And that was Genos, practically purring as he just implied—King gulped. That's it. He can't do this. 'Someone, anyone…'
"I told you not to call me that—AND THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT—!"
'Kill me now,' King mentally pleaded as his body betrayed him and stayed rooted to the floor. No, he had to do this.
"Forgive me, my dearest. I didn't hear anything apart from your breathy sighs and wanton moans—"
As he headed towards cardiac arrest, King idly wondered if anyone had ever died of second-hand embarrassment or if being the first would make for an interesting epitaph.
"Do you hear that?" Saitama asked flatly.
After one terrifying second, there was a loud (and horribly disappointed) sigh from Genos and King felt just the tiniest trickles of guilt drip down his gut.
"Let me find your pants…"
King supposed it was only polite to inform them that Saitama's pair were in the hallway some feet behind him.*
Genos was grateful for Saitama's friends.
He really was.
His Beloved deserved to have people in his life who appreciated him, who cared for him, recognized his good qualities and accepted the bad (Saitama had a few; Genos was in love, not blindly stupid), and most of all, he deserved having people around that made him happy. That was what Genos wanted for his Sensei and he vowed, far before he offered his heart and received his Beloved's in return, that he would do all he could to see that happiness come to fruition.
Genos was grateful for Saitama's friends.
He just sort of wished they didn't come, unannounced, when he was between his Sensei's legs, hand pumping his cock and two of his fingers stretching the tight walls of his would-be-lover.
"Would-be," being the driving point of Genos's frustration.
But that was fine. So what if he endured humiliation levels strong enough to probably kill a man (but not a man in love) as he asked Doctor Kuseno to implement the, ah…"necessary" equipment for intimacy? So what if it had taken weeks of gently coaxing his flustered Sensei to finally let Genos undress him, revealing inch by inch the smooth planes of hardened muscle that left Genos's visuals nearly short-circuiting? So what if it had taken a bit longer than that for his Sensei to feel comfortable with Genos touching and worshiping his body? So what if he finally had his Sensei beneath him, blushing so sweetly, a litany of lovely moans escaping from his lovely pink-kissed mouth just like he'd always dreamed?
And so what if things had been going so well up until the intrusion?
((A bit more time and his Sensei would have hopefully ignored the fierce fighting spirit King emitted…Maybe he needed to speed along the process of preparation…? To decrease the possibility of this rather…unfortunatecircumstance from occurring again.))
So what?
Because apparently there was some merit to playing out some scenario of a nameless fictional character riding a dragon-god into space to fight a meteor alien after failing to send said meteor alien to another dimension.* Which was ridiculous. His Beloved wouldn't need the dragon-god; he had already defeated both a meteor and an alien by himself just fine.
Saitama's attention shifted away from the screen as he sensed a disturbance behind him. He turned, frowning in concern at what he saw. "Genos, you okay? You kinda have a scary look on your face."
"Yes. Just fine, My Heart," he said, not entirely sure if the murder in his eyes vanished yet.
And just like always, Saitama shrugged and left Genos to his own devices. "If you say so." And just as always, he was blissfully unaware of the plans that began to storm in the cyborg's thoughts to ameliorate the situation.
Meanwhile, Genos sort of had an idea to propose to the Doctor. Not only that, but it would also make the experience more organic for his Sensei. It would be a benefit for the both of them.
Now he just had to sacrifice a bit more of his dignity to make the call.
"A-Ah!"
Sensei was exquisite like this.
"G-Genos…" Leg thrown over a metal shoulder, hands clutching the sheets beneath him so hard, the fibers were beginning to fray, and eyes hazy with the brilliant glow of utter want. "C'mon…don't just—nng—!"
"Keep singing to me, Beloved…" Genos murmured as he trailed kisses and bites down a muscled thigh. "Let me hear that lovely voice when you beg." He reveled in the low moan that earned him; it seemed his Sensei had a bit of kink for sweet-talk though he'd probably deny it if Genos ever voiced his observations out loud.
That worked out well for both of them. Genos wanted to lather his Darling with words of adoration and it just so happened that sometimes he'd say something that either made Saitama go weak in the knees or had him panting against his mouth.
All good distractions from the uncomfortable feeling of having three fingers scissoring his ass.
Leg falling to hook around his hips, Genos let his hand idly map the roads of taut flesh around Saitama's waist. Mechanoreceptors hypersensitive to the feel of the quivering body below him traveled a bit farther before metal fingers gave a lazy stroke to the erect cock standing proudly against his Sensei's belly. The response was nothing short of an utter delight to witness, hearing his Darling keen and tremble as Genos pumped his hand over the shaft before thumbing the slit to smear the pearly drops over the engorged head. And his love, his beautiful, enticing Sensei gasped and arched to his touch, a sob escaping his mouth, tears beading at the corners of his eyes, and Genos swore a lovelier sight had never existed.
He shivered as the compartment between his legs opened, eyes never leaving the precious view of his Beloved Sensei laid out before him. He loved this man so much.
And he couldn't wait to ravage him.
On Saitama's end, the hero was pretty sure he'd never felt torture quite like this.
"Please," he whined, thrusting up to meet more friction from heated metal and jolting when his sudden movements brushed the fingers stretching him against his prostate. He was pretty sure his mind just blanked at that moment, caught between a moan and a curse while the burning gaze in those molten gold eyes above him intensified.
And it's so good—the steam in the air, the heat on his skin, the electric sparks that ran through his body at every touch, Genos above him in semisweet-sadistic glee as he watched his Sensei fall apart at his hands.
Something in his chest tightened when he felt the fingers leave his wanting body and Saitama had to bite back a demand to have Genos put them back where they belong.
"I-I—?!" Or, he would have until he felt something much bigger press against him. "Genos?!"
The cyborg groaned in response, rocking his hips to press the tip of his cock around the opening of his Sensei's pink little hole. "I want to feel you. So hot and tight around me," he breathed, shuddering as he let some of the slick substance dripping from his length coat his fingers for his Sensei to see. "Look…you've made us both wet…" he taunted, smirking as the cherry-rouge flush on his Beloved's face deepened.
Self-lubricating. It would undoubtedly help the preparation process along as well as ease any pain his lover—no "would-be" this time because it was definitely happening tonight—might experience. Not only that, but it also served a second, hidden, function.
One that Genos couldn't wait to try out.
Meanwhile, Saitama was sure what he was experiencing something akin to panic. "W-wait—Genos!" And he was surprised when the other actually did. The hero gulped, teetering on the edge of 'stop' and 'go.' "I…I…"
What should he say? A climax of more than one kind was on the line here…
A response was at the tip of his tongue; a response that Saitama hadn't consciously planned nor a response that he was probably expecting—but atrue response nonetheless that only needed his voice to give it meaning and for action to be born from it.
The ringing that anti-climactically followed was not the voice either of them were looking for, however.
And it was so fucking cliché that both of them froze for a few seconds to make sure it was really happening. Upon the fourth ring, however, one of the pair relaxed as the other tensed.
It was quite fortunate that Saitama's quiet prayer of "Oh thank god…" was wholly overshadowed by Genos's forlorn hiss of "Damnit…" as the latter withdrew from his partner to reach for his phone.
"Yes, hello?" Saitama supposed he should feel a little bad for being so relieved when Genos's eyes were literally black with murder. "This instance?" There was a deep scowl marring his face and Saitama lazily wondered what happened. "Right…I'm in the middle of doing someo—something right now." On Genos's end, he did his absolute best to ignore the dark look Saitama shot him. "I'm not sure if I can…" and he looked over to his Sensei, so wonderfully naked with Genos's bites littering his skin before they disappeared within a few cruel minutes. But there were babbles of a certain S-Class Rank 2 ESPer and unnecessary damage and some mutterings about mandatory exercises to reduce collateral damage and in all honesty, it was a real mood-killer.
Saitama sat up with a soft smile. "Hey, it's all right." The disappointed look on his partner's face didn't escape him as the rambling on the phone continued. "You head over. I'm not going anywhere."
There was a sigh at that and before the person on the other line could say anything more, Genos ended the call with a curt, "I'll be there shortly." He snapped the phone shut (with a little bit more force than necessary, if the hairline cracks on the cover said anything) and drew Saitama in for a chaste kiss. And what was Saitama to do but melt against him? He could already feel his skin cooling, the excitement fizzling away as a comfortable warmth overtook the embers of zealous lust. "Come with me?" Genos murmured against his mouth.
Saitama pulled away to give him a look. "Genos, we probably don't have time for—"
"I meant to the meeting, Sensei," Genos replied with a blank stare.
"Oh." Saitama blinked. "Sure." He supposed he should be there for silent support.
Genos nodded, pressing another kiss to his neck. "Thank you."
For Tatsumaki, in the event of her unwitting aid. Saitama nodded. "No problem."
"You want it to WHAT!?"
"I'll have to call you back, Doctor," Genos muttered to his (newly repaired) phone before pressing the red button.
Meanwhile Saitama just continued to gaze in astounded horror at him like he had just grown two heads. "Just…just what kind of weird, kinky stuff are you into?"
And by 'head,' Genos meant the one on his shoulders. Having another one paired with the relatively new appendage south of his beltline was something that hadn't even crossed Genos's mind. "In all honesty, I'm not sure. I'm willing to try anything with you, however," he answered truthfully.'For you,' he mentally added.
It was unfortunate that his Sensei seemed to be even more terrified of that response. "Just—! Argh…what's wrong with the normal stuff?" Saitama demanded, red-faced and looking for all the world like he'd really like to talk about literally anything but this.
Genos nodded in understanding. "I do not mean to say that more traditional methods are obsolete or unpleasurable." Definitely not. Their first (botched) attempt at lovemaking was entirely sensual and gratifying…it was just that they never actually got to penetration. "It is simply a small modification that will prove useful in stimu—"
"Small. That's…small to you?" Saitama repeated, disbelieving before quickly shaking his head. "I mean…it's not necessary, is it?"
Genos shifted his eyes away. "Perhaps not entirely necessary…" But it might prove helpful, at least, to have his partner more concentrated in their intimacy to keep the distractions from completely ruining the small moments they had to themselves.
"Yeah. I mean, just…you and me. No fancy gadgets or weird stuff," Saitama insisted. "It may not seem like a whole lot…but that sounds okay to me…How 'bout you?"
Genos gave a sigh. "Sensei…" Did he really need to remind Saitama that he was pretty much made of fancy gadgets?
Saitama seemed to almost fidget in place, white cape billowing behind him. "Look…there's nothing wrong with going a bit slow, right? Or—tame. Tame is good," he continued, skittish of the subject as Genos had ever seen him.
The younger gave a nod. "Of course, dearest." Saitama-sensei never ceased to amaze him; how a man so amazing could be so wonderfully modest.
"So uh, yeah. Don't try to go overboard, okay?" he added lamely before heading to the door.
"As you say, my Darling," Genos replied, waiting for the last swish of a pristine mantle to fly out of sight before he pressed the redial button on his phone. "Hello, Doctor? Yes, at least four levels to the vibration intensity."
"He asked for a what?"
"A. Vibrating. Dick." Saitama repeated, stabbing the words pointedly.
"Wow…" Fubuki gave a low whistle. "You're lucky."
This was the last time he confided in the younger ESPer. "Shut uuup! That's the last thing I want to hear from you!" he groused, burying his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do…"
"Lie back and take it like a man?" Fubuki supplied (un)helpfully.
Saitama sent her a flat look. "For once, your sister's been more useful than you are."
She scoffed. "As if she knew she was helping the likes of you." Still, it was only amusing to see the strongest man wallow in misery for so long. Fubuki sighed. "Look, so what if you're—inexperienced—"
"A goddamn virgin," Saitama corrected, face currently smooshed on the wood of the table.
"That too," she assented, mildly mirthful and somewhat sympathetic. "Look, won't Genos see that as a good thing?" In fact, Fubuki had her money on the cyborg worshiping Saitama's body like it was sacred or something when he found out—well, more so than he already did.
"Maybe, but…" Saitama lifted his head up, considering it for a moment. His brow furrowed before making a miserable face. "I dunno…what if I'm a bad lay?"
Not that Fubuki dared to dwell on it for more than a few seconds, but shehighly doubted Saitama'd be bad in bed. Lazy, perhaps, but not terrible. But like hell she'd say it. "He'd never tell you that." The damn cyborg loved himway too much anyways.
"That's what I'm afraid of!" he whined.
Fubuki rolled her eyes, though she did see his point. Sometimes, it seemed like Genos was all-too devoted to the man.
It was a good thing Saitama was worthy of every bit of that unfailing loyalty. "Look, this is my first actual serious relationship. Sure sex isn't everything but I want him to enjoy it if he wants it." He sat up slowly, a single string of genuine emotion resonating in his voice. "It would…really suck if I just took everything he gave me and not be able to give back, you know?"
Fubuki hummed, a hand concealing her endeared smile. "You're awfully considerate about this. It's surprising." But not really. She expected something like this out of Saitama, who became so strong that he rarely had to put real effort in anything but what truly mattered. Not that she'd say that either.
Saitama, meanwhile, looked like he had all but given up in their impromptu consultation. "You're awfully useless right now. It's irritating."
"Fine, fine…" It wasn't exactly often that Saitama would come and speak to her, especially about such a sensitive topic. She might as well give himsomething. "Why not read up on it?" Fubuki suggested. "There's bound to be some magazine articles or websites that can help you out."
Saitama blinked. "Yeah, no. I'd rather eat my left fist," he retorted outright. The younger ESPer could almost feel her patience go up in flames. "And you're deferring me to other sources? You suck at this. I'm gonna find King…the S-Class Group Exercise should have ended by now…"
Fubuki could slap the man. But she had a feeling that she'd only be left with a broken hand for her troubles. Instead, she seethed for a few seconds before voicing her eloquent discordance: "You're honestly going to trust a man who gets draws all his love-advice from his dating sims?"
All right, perhaps it was not as refined as she would have liked it, but it got her point across as Saitama considered her words before sitting back down.
Crossing her arms, she shook her head in quiet consideration. "Saitama, just talk to him. If you're not ready for whatever reason, whether you're too nervous or if you really think that it'd just be awkward for you two later, then speak up." Her voice softened though she shot him a chagrined look. "Genos loves you, you fool. I think he'd rather wait until you're certain than live with the guilt of knowing he went through with it when you weren't one hundred percent sure."
Saitama merely stared back at her, face unreadable as always. "I'll try, I guess," he replied simply.
And any irritation Fubuki held on to quickly dissolved at the murmur ofThanks she received from him, simple and honest, for her troubles.
Romancing his Sensei took time.
A lot of time, a lot of effort, a lot of patience, a lot of trials, and a lot of errors.
((A lot of courage and a lot of research as well.))
So many sweet nights spent in gentle caresses and sugary kisses before Genos was bold enough to open his mouth and slant it against his Sensei'sjust so in a heated exchange of pants and moans. Hands that were kept in innocent embraces soon wandered to search against heated skin and titanium plates, shirts lifted and pant buttons undone to reveal more tantalizing flesh and masterpieces of metal. And it was then that they felt the romantic affection blossom and thorn to fevered passion as clothes hit the floor and lips, teeth, and tongues busied themselves with intimate discovery of each other's bodies.
The progression took their delicate time but some nights, Genos was able to experience all the stages in one experience; a simple kiss taking the lead from a flash of affection to bodies writhing against one another atop messy sheets and a cloud of steam.
But tonight, just as all the nights previous, did not lead to their first intimacy. Because tonight, while the moon sleepily climbed to the clouds and stars barely began to light its path, his Beloved Sensei drew back with a gentle smile just long enough for Genos to cherish before giving him a honeyed kiss. He then drew back and happily informed Genos of a sale that day. That they would be able to make it if they hurried and that the store closed three hours from now.
And Genos didn't mind.
Not one bit.
Being physically intimate with Saitama wasn't even an integral part of their relationship. It was a perk, if anything, a small aspect in the midst of all that Genos was able to enjoy now that he and Saitama were officially dating.
Things like being able to hold the man anytime he wanted, feel lean muscles relax against him and to hear that soft sigh like being with Genos was enough to melt his worries away—even for a little while. Like being able to push their futons together on cold nights and fall asleep to strong arms wrapped around him and a face buried in his chest, a body of titanium and wires feeling safest in the embrace of the strongest hero to have ever existed. Like being able to kiss Saitama, not as a heady message of want and lust, but a simple conversation without words that expressed how very precious his Beloved was to him; and when Saitama kissed back, soft and slow, there was no doubt in Genos's mind that he was cherished by the man who had his heart in every way.
And Genos said it so often—I love you, I love you, I love you, painting his Love's skin with every stroke and kiss with those words, valleys and peaks chartered by humble hands, excited to explore His One who gave himself to him; His One who Genos couldn't deserve but had had lost himself to him without even knowing, as easily as Genos was lost in the soundless gaze he received from earth-colored eyes, the call of It's you, It's you, It's you that named him as his Saitama's choice.
It was enough for Genos to have that.
It seemed enough for Saitama as well.
Because from all the times they had been disrupted, he never appeared perturbed; flustered, perhaps, but he never once complained or appeared irritated. Mood effectively ruined and romantic atmosphere dispersed by the chaotic and customary events that made up their daily lives, Saitama regained his footing effortlessly to balance it all while Genos floundered with new-found hormonal urges and a cybernetic case of blue balls.
Perhaps it was because Saitama was twenty-five and knew how to control himself while Genos was nineteen and green.
Because he knew carnal pleasures were so insignificant in the face of what they shared, of what bound them together.
Or maybe it was because his Beloved didn't necessarily want it.
The thoughts were there, lingering in the dark of his mind. They didn't trouble him too much, however. Saitama loved him. He knew that better than his own name.
Perhaps some things didn't need an answer. Or maybe there was more than one to give—convoluted and confounding, just as all of life's questions were wont to be.
Like…did there have to be a sale on eggplants?
All right, in reality, there was a sale on a variety of vegetables and select fruit. That was much more conceivable. A sale on vegetables and select fruits that they apparently needed.
Like eggplants, cucumbers, opo squash, daikon radish, carrots, okra, and of course, bananas.
And while Genos quietly lamented amid the other shoppers, Saitama continued his bargain-spree, none the wiser. "Make sure you find the biggest ones, all right?" Genos wondered if Saitama preferred a bigger size as an asset to other things as well. But such musings weren't suited for the grocery store, even with all the phallic foods surrounding them both. Once more, it didn't seem to bother his dear Sensei as the man currently inspected another lengthy eggplant for size and quality.
So Genos would hold off on that idea—at least until he knew for sure if pursuing a physically romantic relationship was what Saitama wanted. "Certainly, My Light."
He ignored the grumblings of "You're the one that keep glows in the dark when I'm trying to sleep" in favor of the sweet blush that stained his Beloved's cheeks a pretty cherry red.
Oh, cherries. They should get some of that too.
His Sensei's lips had been a source of longing and lusting for him in the past.
Genos's own were of synthetic skin, more resistant than the human variant, but plush and supple to the touch. Months ago, he brought the tips of his fingers to press against the soft cybernetic flesh and wondered how different his skin felt compared to his Sensei's. Days after that, the thought of how their lips would feel against one another wormed its way to wayward thoughts and refused to leave ever since.
Even now, he was still chasing after those lips though he had answered that haunting question months ago.
"Sensei…" Genos groaned as Saitama broke for air, trailing after that kiss-bitten mouth.
And when he caught his prize, he was rewarded with a teasing peck and a hard nip to his lips. "I told you not to call me that while we're doing this," Saitama chastised, words already wobbly with want.
To make sure he didn't escape again, a metal grasp on strong hips lifted the smaller body onto his lap without so much as a noise of protest from the other. Titanium alloy and copper wires caged his willing captive while lean legs wrapped around his waist in turn. "Forgive me," Genos murmured, drawing his Beloved in another searing kiss. "Saitama…"
Genos happily swallowed the mewl that managed to slip past his Sensei's guarded mouth, reveling in the small trembles that ran through the blushing hero in his arms.
"You enjoyed that," Genos cooed, licking a wet stripe down his Love's neck.
"You too," Saitama retaliated, grinding on his lap while fingers explored the sensitive little areas around his pelvis unprotected by metal and unprotected from Saitama's dexterous hands.
It didn't take much longer for clothes to be divested, warm skin against heating metal and mere seconds after that for Saitama to be pushed back on the futon, bitten and bruised by fingers and teeth as Genos admired his own handiwork at modern art with his Sensei's skin as a canvas.
He was breathtaking here; skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, chest rising and falling rhythmically from arousal and anticipation, an earthen gaze afire and hazy with need—none other could possibly compare. And only he would be the one to see that face—those sharp features and dangerous eyes heady with want, flushed with desperation for release. Genos shuddered as he knelt between his Sensei's legs, eyes darkened with desire, a loving gaze sweetly poisoned as a thorn of possessiveness pressed deeper where a beating organ should have been.
"Do you want this?" he pleaded, pressing a kiss to a folded knee. "Darling…I need to know."
A smirk on that teasing mouth sent his breath stuttering. "You look troubled, Genos."
"I want…" I want to have you, I want to make you cry with pleasure, I want to claim you in every way, I want you to be mineminemine— "I want to know if you're enjoying this," Genos breathed.
He received a patient smile in return.
Saitama was no fool.
He saw the way Genos looked—how he hungered for him (of all people) like a starved beast. But he asked anyways, no matter how reciprocating Saitama had been, no matter how much Saitama had taunted and teased him in return—no matter how much Saitama made it apparent that he wanted him like no one else…and trusted him the same way.
So Saitama had only one thing to say to that: "Well…I'm hard, aren't I?" He would have added a half-hearted chuckle but at the burning look in Genos's eyes, he guessed now wasn't such a good time. So, instead, there were two things he needed to say: "I want it…" he murmured, soft and low, forcing down a shiver as Genos surged forward, locking their lips together.Even if I have no idea what I'm doing, if it'll be good for you, or if it'll be good for me in the end, I want it. And as Genos pulled away, what else was Saitama to do than add a third: "So are you gonna give it to me, or not?"
"If my Master so wishes," Genos replied, eyes gleaming.
Saitama resisted the urge to whap him with a pillow. "Hurry before I change my mind."
Preparation was a blur of hastened breaths, throaty moans, three fingers immersed in tight, feverish warmth, a cyborg-cock dripping lube on the floor, and an incoherent Sensei who honestly couldn't give a damn about the mess at a time like this.
And here he was, between his lover's legs—and this time for sure—as he lathered the head of his cock until it gleamed lewdly under his gaze. "I can't wait to feel you," Genos groaned, positioning the tip against the opening of Saitama's puckered entrance. God he could feel the heat, drawing him, tempting him to drive forward all at once, joined together with his Sensei, to feel the man all around him. It was exhilarating.
"Then don't," Saitama said evenly, eyes giving a honeyed glow. "Come on…let me have it," he challenged.
With a snap of his hips, Genos buried himself within his Sensei, mouth falling open in a silent gasp as he was sure something must have short-circuited, flooding his brain with scorching sensations and delicious pleasure as Saitama arched his back with a wanton cry.
No way it could feel this good—absolutely not.
Genos was somewhat aware that he was holding his Sensei's hips so tightly that it would leave bruises but his Sensei's walls were gripping him tightly in turn, tempting to draw him deeper and deeper until all he could feel was heat and friction. He breathed in a cloud of the steam that sputtered out of him, regaining himself little by little until he was sure he could move without hurting his Beloved.
"Ready?" he murmured, leaning forward to catch the other's lips.
"As I'll ever be," Saitama replied, meeting his mouth half-way.
He rocked his hips gently, trying hard not to get lost in the quivers and quakes of the body beneath him. Shallow thrusts that drove a bit deeper in each time, quiet hitches in breath spilling into the air as Genos brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves that jolted pleasure down Saitama's spine.
The air between them was molten hot, thoughts were dazed, and he could feel the world crash all around them as he worked a rhythm. Genos had read that sex could be described as an earthshattering moment. But with the way he felt the ground beneath them shaking, the rumbles and clatters falling on his ears, he just didn't think it was taken literally.
"Genos, stop."
And immediately, he did.
Oh.
Damn.
He knew better than to get his hopes up. Genos watched, forlornly as Saitama slowly lifted himself up, wincing as his cock slid out of that perfect heat. Still, he couldn't help but feel pride swell in his chest as his Sensei wobbled in his steps to reach the window.
When Saitama drew back the curtains, Genos needed to see only a glimpse before he sighed.
Another monster.
Why was it that when Genos had silently suffered with his previously-thought unrequited feelings, he was made to endure the double-edged sword of endless hours alone with his Sensei, but now that he and his Beloved were finally dating, they couldn't have one (intimate) moment without something popping up and making Genos want to scream?
And unfortunately, not in the fun way.
"Let's go." By the time Genos was done lamenting, Saitama was already in his hero suit and, by the looks of it, the thing rampaging outside had begun some long-winded introduction.
Genos nodded hollowly. "Yes, Sensei."
Saitama paused, unsure if he was feeling guilt or the same burning annoyance at being disrupted as Genos—just to a much smaller degree that the cyborg. Glancing back to the curtains, a flash of fire barraged the beast's back mid-sentence while another attacked flanked it from the side. Some other heroes stepped in to the fight. And while the thought was fleeting and leaning towards the crazier side of his usual schemes…
Saitama took that as a sign.
Before Genos could even pull his shirt down all the way, he was being pushed back onto the wall, Saitama kneeling before him as the hero unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper. "We can take care of that quickly."
Genos, for the life of him, was quite sure he was short-circuiting again.
Saitama fumbled a bit with the compartment and gave a small noise of satisfaction as it opened, revealing a thick cock, hardened and dripping with what looked like precum. It felt heavy in his hand, soft to the touch as he gave tentative and experimental strokes along the shaft. He hummed as Genos's knees buckled and a hiss of steam erupted above him. 'I have no idea what I'm doing but here's hoping I do it well.'
Without preamble, Saitama took Genos in his mouth.
"SENSEI!" Did he scream? Genos swore he screamed. Hell, the people outside, miles away with a rampaging monster upon them would have confirmed it. And now he was overheating. Overheating as Saitama licked and sucked, palming where his mouth couldn't fit all at once as a hot, hot,hot mouth engulfed the head of his cock, tongue teasing the slit. Oh god—he was going to shut down—shut down and drown in error messages at the hottest image he had ever had the fortune to witness: his Sensei, fully dressed in his pristine hero attire, on his knees and sucking him off. Seeing those lips that haunted his desires for and daydreams wrapped around the cybernetic flesh as artificial neurons fired and frayed from the delicious attention given to them from Saitama's hands and mouth.
It was a miracle he could still stand.
"S-Sensei, I—ah!" he gasped in a breath, bracing himself behind the wall (careful not to leave too many cracks on the sheetrock). Below, Saitama tried to give an apologetic look but with a mouthful of cyborg cock, Genos could only clutch at the white cape over his shoulders to keep himself grounded.
'Sorry if I'm being a little rough.' Saitama hummed in thought, though Genos really seemed to enjoy it. If the grip on his cape urging him to take in more of his length was any indication anyways. So Saitama indulged him, opening his mouth wider. It was worth it to hear that intense whirring alongside Genos's groans and grunts. As the tip pressed against the back of his throat, however, Saitama drew back to let his fingers play and tease, red gloves in stark contrast against the black material. He focused on the head, alternating between pressure from his swirling tongue and suction to see what exactly Genos liked.
He couldn't exactly ask Genos right now anyways. The poor guy was barely stringing a coherent sentence together.
"Sen-Sensei I can't a-AH!" It was beyond words—earthshattering was too mild a term. And Genos was fairly sure the monster rampaging the streets had nothing to do with it this time. He clutched the sturdy cloth in his hands, gasping and trembling as he felt something indescribable was approaching its peak. And when one final swipe of a sinful tongue drove him over the edge, the second function of his self-lubricating cock triggered before a single word could be uttered of it in warning. He felt Saitama release him with a wet pop and Genos had to remember how to keep himself upright as he attempted to articulate his words once more. "I'm—I'm sorry, Sensei…I tried wa-warning you…"
Saitama looked up at him, face a mix of curiosity and blank shock, tongue coated in the thick, viscous substance. "This lube…it's edible, right?" Genos very nearly overheated as some of it dribbled down his chin.
"Yes…" he croaked.
Genos was afraid his sensors might have failed him as he shamelessly watched the Adam's apple bobbing as Saitama swallowed down his load. He bit back a groan as a pink tongue poked out of his Sensei's lips to taste the corner of his mouth. "Strawberry flavored?"
"You prefer it," Genos explained breathlessly.
And his Darling—his gorgeous and wonderful Darling gave him a lopsided smile, face red with embarrassment while his voice lilted sarcastically. "You're so good to me." And Genos knew he'd do anything just to have Saitama make faces like those more often. "Hm…you know…I guess the kinky stuff is okay. And the fancy gadgets." He stood, looking for all the world like he had not just given Genos a blowjob—and a sky-splitting orgasm—and began towards their door and to the villain of the week. He paused, turning back to Genos. "But like I said, don't go overboard, okay?"
"Sensei…" And before Saitama had the chance to slip out the door, Genos pinned him against his body, a hungry mouth licking away the remaining lube Saitama hadn't been able to reach until he reached his lips. "After this fight, I'll be sure to return the favor."
Saitama's knees buckled.
Unfortunately, he wasn't able to live up to his promise.
Still, while he was being repaired at the Doctor's, it was a good time to bring up his ideas for upgrades. He'd add in the size enhancement to his list as well.
Saitama heard Genos approach without even lifting his head from the newspaper in his lap as he marked down another date for a sale. "Oh hey, welcome ba—"
Genos, however, wasted no time in ravaging the other's mouth. "I believe I owe you," he growled, low and hungry as Saitama's blush bloomed attractively to the tips of his ears.
The hero blinked, a nervous reaction triggered by the smoldering gaze he was trapped under. "Haha…now?"
It was a good thing Saitama was so used to the various frightening expressions on Genos's face. This one was only mildly frightening. "I just scouted through every street, scanning for and seeking every potential danger and disaster that dares show its face, even in the neighboring cities." As he spoke, he loomed closer and closer over his teacher. "I took down three tiger-level threats and one demon-level. Now it's quiet and I finally have you where I want you."
Saitama blinked, a blank face and a befuddled smile concealing the inward panic and arousal starting to pound in his ears. "And…where would that be, exactly?"
Apparently on his hands and knees.
"Patience, Beloved," Genos cooed, peppering kisses down his back as he pumped his finger in and almost completely out of Saitama's scorching walls.
"Ngh—easy for—ah!—you to say," he groused as Genos curled his index finger, wringing out a low moan from his throat when it teased against his prostate.
In actuality, it wasn't. Having his Darling presented so lewdly in front of him was having detrimental effects to his mental state. But he wouldn't let Saitama know that. He added in a second finger, stretching the tight walls further. "You're already trembling for me and taking my fingers so well." He gave a light press to the gland, swollen with arousal. "It's like you're hungry for me."
Saitama jerked under the touch, a rough gasp torn from his throat. "S-shut the fuck up and get on with it." The sound went straight to Genos's cock.
"In a while," Genos murmured, transfixed by the way the pink hole twitched and started to suck his fingers in the tight heat when he began to withdraw them. The lubricant made obscene noises as he teased the opening before he pulled his fingers out. "Raise yourself up some more." Genos licked his lips. "I want a taste."
Maybe in Saitama's lust-fogged mind, doing what he was told was a good idea.
Saitama had yet to decide if that was a big mistake or not.
He was about to find out. "Gghh— O-oh god—" That wasn't' a finger. Definitely not. "G-Genos!?" Saitama tried squirming away but there was a tight grip on his hips to keep him still as pleasured moans escaped from his mouth. A slick tongue pushed past the first ring of muscle caused Saitama to cry out and yes this was a big mistake.
Oh fuck—
Oh fuck.
It was so wet. Wet and thick, moving inside him, exploring him thoroughly as he felt Genos press further in, teasing and thrusting his tongue through the tight passage. Saitama's arms nearly gave away and he was fairly sure his blush had reached all the way to his ass by now. It was actually surprising that he still had blood left after he was fairly sure it had all flocked south, the evidence heavy and dripping precum between his legs. He bit back what might've been a scream when Genos started moaning into him, the slick muscle reaching in farther than before, like he couldn't get enough of his fucking him with his tongue.
That's it.
He can't—he just can't—
"G-god JUST DO IT ALREADY!"
The wet sound that followed as Genos pulled away was downright pornographic. Even more so with lubricant dripping from his mouth. "Are you sure? You're still so tight," he remarked, fingers spreading the twitching hole.
If Saitama were any less of a man, he would have probably sobbed from sheer frustration. "Goddamnit, I'm a virgin but I'm still me—I'm pretty damn sure I can handle a bit of pain!" Fuck this was mortifying—but it felt so good, the finale better be worth it.
The movement behind him stilled for a good few seconds and Saitama craned his neck to find Genos, in speechless awe. He was about to question it before Genos spoke, voice devoid of any emotion: "…You're a virgin?"
Goddamnit. "Uh, yeah? Didn't you…?" Saitama froze as Genos suddenly ducked his head, blond bangs concealing his eyes. "Uh…Genos?"
"I'm going to be your first?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Saitama glared at him. "Yeah, if you ever get around to it." He frowned when Genos just sat there, completely motionless. "What are you…" His eyes widened when Genos lifted his head. "Oh hell no—Genos!?"
Fuck. He looked like he going to crying oil again. "I'm…so honored, Sensei." His eyes were practically glittering, holding back what Saitama suspected were tears of disbelief (and joy).
Saitama inwardly groaned. Ah great…he was back to "Devoted Disciple" mode.
Or…at least a sexual variant of it from the way he seemed to lock on to his target, eyes blazing with determination. "Please, do not worry—I will treat you well."
Well, at least they were finally going to get on with it. Still…"Man you're embarrassing."
Genos paid no heed to that and instead let his eyes travel to the marks littering his Sensei's skin—bites and bruises in shades of purple possession and red lust, marked for Genos's eyes. "Please turn over," he demanded more than asked. "I want to see Sensei's face when I pleasure him." And to know that what came next, that no one else had ever seen Saitama this way—seen him lost in pleasure, felt the delicious grip of his walls, or hear the way he cursed and cried for more—all for Genos—
It was intoxicating.
Unaware of all this, Saitama complied, grumbling all the way despite the ravenous gaze that fell on him. "You're so fucking embarrassing," Saitama whined, even as Genos laid him down, kissing and nibbling flushed flesh from his stomach to his thighs.
And as always, Genos ignored the small quip. "Before we continue, me know if you're in any way uncomfortable—"
Saitama sent him a flat look. "Genos, you teased me for nearly a goddamn hour; I already came once." He repressed the shudder at the remembrance, those gold eyes pinning him beneath their gaze as Saitama came undone in his hands. "So are you gonna use your cyborg dick or do I have to take it from you and do this myself?"
Genos smiled, reaching down to give him a kiss. "As you wish, Saitama-sensei."
Holding his thighs to lift up his Beloved's legs, Genos licked his lips as the sensations came back to him—the friction, white hot and overwhelming as he drove deeper and deeper within his Sensei's body, the ecstasy of their physical union a narcotic that had Genos hooked the very first moment Saitama pressed his lips against Genos's own.
His cock was dripping, black material almost glistening in anticipation as he lined it up to his Beloved's entrance, smearing the pink hole with his 'precum'; he nearly lost himself when he looked to his Saitama's face, cheeks rosy with desire and eyes darkened with want, mouth whispering a simple command: "Go."
Genos thrusted in, slowly, breath breaking in gasps as Saitama hissed in burning satisfaction or from the satisfying burn. Saitama was damn sure that Genos wasn't even in all the way but the feeling of being filled, inch after inch of slow digs to help him adjust to the size, made his heart tumble and breath stutter in triple time. There were gasps and groans from both of them as Genos rocked his hips in deliberate movements as Saitama nudged his hips forward, meeting the thrusts in a sloppy rhythm that went just too slow for Saitama's liking.
"You can move—faster; it doesn't hurt and—"
Saitama gave a soundless cry as Genos pushed in unexpectedly, fully sheathed in his quivering body as metal fingers gave a bruising grip to trembling thighs. He fought for breath, feeling so full at the overpowering and feverish sensation of Genos pressed up against him, cock buried inside him, and Genos—gorgeous and everything Saitama knew he didn't deserve—above him, losing and catching his breath, eyes consumed with need, and positively steaming with want.
It was intoxicating.
"Genos…" Saitama murmured, wincing as a flash of pleasure teased down his spine as the cyborg brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves within him.
"I…apologize, Beloved…" Genos gritted out, mechanical body shuddering. Back bowed and blond head resting on his shoulder, Saitama listened as the whirring of his core rang in high pitches; heavy pants fell on his ears and faint sparks fizzled and flew from his joints as Genos held his position in dedicated desperation.
Oh. Saitama forced back a grin. "Close to coming, aren't ya?"
"Yes," he groaned. "Like you said, I teased you for an hour. And I haven't come yet."
Feeling just a bit impish, Saitama rolled his hips, feeling Genos's restraint starting to snap. He guided Genos's face to meet his own and leaned up, murmuring against a gasping mouth: "Well now's your chance, right?"
Saitama saw was a flash of fire in those eyes of gold as his control crumbled.
The kiss felt like fire; explosive passion and overflowing fervor as Genos drew back and slammed his hips forward. And Saitama loved it. Every time his cock drove into him, filling him up so well as near-brushes teased his prostate and left him hungering for moremoremore of Genos, more of feeling himself overcome and overwhelmed with that raging fire as the pace turned animalistic, a cry or a sob wrung out of Saitama's kiss-bitten throat when Genos angled himself to rock against the one spot that made stars dance and crash before his eyes, eventually losing himself to shameless moans as Genos continued to drive into him, fervidly, forcefully, ferociously.
"G-Gennnos…" Saitama felt the sheets tear beneath his hands. "Ah-ah—!" It was a good thing he wasn't clutching onto Genos's (dented) back this time.
"Y-you feel amazing…My Love." Saitama almost groaned. He wished he could turn away because it apparently wasn't enough that his ass was being pounded by the guy—no, Genos also had to look at him with those damn adoring eyes like Saitama was the most precious thing in the world. And of course, he also had to take Saitama's hand, previously clutching the remains of their blanket, to lace their fingers together, tenderly and lovingly. "Sweeter than sin…more pleasurable than paradise."
Saitama wanted to laugh but with the way Genos was thrusting into him, even at his slowed pace, it would have made him sound like he was sobbing instead. "Pfft…you're a fucking sap."
And Genos kissed him, long, deep and perfect. "That I am."
It took maybe a second or ten before: "…if that was a pun, know that I've never been more proud of you."
Also never been more aroused but that was something Genos didn't need to know about. But it was nice hearing Genos laugh like that—body shaking against him as his bangs tickled the curve of his shoulder. Their rhythm slowed further and Saitama basked in the warmth of the body above him, feeling them move with one another in such an intimate way, something in his chest swelling at how they fit together like they'd always belonged. So Saitama kissed him again, a thank you and an I love you all at once while Genos's lips kissed back in a gentle I know.
But peace never lasted long—call it entropy but Saitama figured it was more like Genos's metal abs were rubbing against his dick causing him to clamp down on Genos's cock in turn, making the cyborg above him hiss in pleasure and thereby causing him to hunger for more of that sweet friction. And the leisurely pace was soon stolen away by a frantic need, a frenzied heat that singed all the way to the tips of their toes as Genos slammed into Saitama's greedy body, hand between both their stomachs to stroke and tease his Beloved to completion.
And Saitama—in the midst of it all—bit his lips as he teetered between pleas for mercy and cries of damnation.
But what instead sounded was a loud heartbeat from the hallway.
"S-Saitama?" Said hero's eyes flew open to find the hand on his cock missing and instead glowing bright red and aimed at—
"King, move away from the door!"
There was some fumbling behind the entrance. "B-but—"
"FORGET WHAT I SAID! GO!" And as the thrusts faltered and Genos looked back at him with accusing eyes, Saitama added: "And thanks for putting up with me!"
"Y-you're welcome—er, have fun!" There following that was the heavy thud of footsteps. "Bye!" The slam of a door was the end of that.
Saitama blinked, looking up at Genos with a blank expression. "I'll explain later but uh…you'll be glad to know that there won't be any more interruptions. Unless something else pops up like another monster or—"
Saitama had to clamp a hand over his mouth as Genos continued, his pace relentless to drive his Sensei to the heights of heaven or pound him 'til the floors gave out.
"G-GENOS!" Damn that brat. He just had to move his hand out of the way, malicious black eyes dark with desire as he leaned in and whispered some bullshit about wanting to hear every little sound he made like he didn't just intentionally flip a switch somewhere to turn his dick into a fucking vibrator. The nerve of that brat.
But oh god it felt so good—and so weird—feeling it hit his prostate dead-on with enough intensity to make such embarrassing noises spill from his mouth, felt so good as Genos—the fucking brat—pressed it right against the abused and sensitive spot inside him, vibrations threatening to snap every single strand of sanity Saitama had left as he screamed his throat raw.
Felt so good as Genos started rambling well over twenty words in his ear ofSensei, you feel so good, so tight and hot around me, eating me alive like you're hungry for more, you're so good to me Sensei, I'll give you everything you want and everything you deserve, let me hear you, let me hear you want me, want me and no one else, look only at me, only me, know you're mineminemineMINE—
"YOURS!" Saitama cried out, colors and sensation collapsing and crashing all around him, something breaking as he shuddered into Genos's embrace, metal arms holding him together as he fell apart.
And when Genos followed, smashing their mouths together in a bruising, claiming kiss, Saitama moaned as he felt the lubricant fill him, trickling from his entrance as it overflowed down to the mess on the floor.
"Mine," Genos asserted once more, murmuring against his lover's lips. "Andyours."
"You orchestrated a few of those times we were interrupted, didn't you," Genos asked, mouthing a few kisses on Saitama's bald head.
"Yep," came the simple reply as he shifted against the metal body he was currently being crushed under; not that he minded really.
"And you were afraid that, because we were a virgin, you wouldn't know how to pleasure me in return," Genos deduced, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
Saitama sighed as he carded his fingers through blond stands. "…Yeah."
"…Tatsumaki?"
Saitama scoffed. "Coincidence."
"Good," he breathed. "And King?"
"Not my fault you leave your diary open and mark down the dates you plan on seducing me."
Genos smiled against his skin. "Fair enough." He wrapped his arms around him, lightheaded, drunken and dazed with the man he loved in his embrace. This was what he lived for—for the rest of his days to have nights like these. "You are so, so very precious to me," he murmured, heart swelling and core whirring with heady adulation.
"I know," Saitama whispered, patting his head as the body above him practically purred with affection. "I love you too, Genos." A beat later, his eyes widened.
Shit.
The last time he said that, Genos wouldn't let him get an ounce of sleep, the affectionate sap.
But to his surprise, no loquacious ramblings followed, nor tearful proclamations of eternal devotion and loyalty, no soliloquys of impossible things that Saitama was grudgingly starting to believe—words like foreverand destiny among a plethora of other romantics. Instead, there was merely a tune humming from Genos's mouth and a song upon his lips: "Tell me that we belong together—"
Saitama snorted. "You're such a sap." He was touched too—no denying that however.
"Dress it up with the trappings of love." He took Saitama's hand in his, lacing their fingers together; of flesh and bone—raw, undefined strength, and of machine and wire—fire and destruction wrapped gently around one another in something so pure and true. "I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above."
Saitama gave a single kiss to the back of a metal palm.
All the while, Genos sang, from the depths of his core to His Heart entwined in his arms. "I'll be your crying shoulder; I'll be love's suicide; I'll be better when I'm older; I'll be…the greatest fan of your life."
"That much is obvious," Saitama scoffed, cheeks cherry red but unable to even bury it under a pillow at this point as Genos started pressing kisses wherever his lips could reach. "Is this how you are after sex? You start singing old 90s hits?" He gave a sleepy grin as Genos continued to sing, voicing along the verses as they came to him: "And rain falls angry on the tin roof as we life awake in my bed; You're my survival; You're my living proof my love is alive and not dead," completely unsurprised as Genos leaned in for a kiss on the lips.
He smiled, content and complete as he listened to his lover hum the words in and out of tune. "That much is obvious…My Saitama."
Tell me that we belong together,
Dress it up with the trappings of love
I'll be captivated,
I'll hang from your lips,
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above.
I'll be your crying shoulder,
I'll be love's suicide
I'll be better when I'm older,
I'll be the greatest fan of your life
Notes:
"I'll be" – Edwin McCain. This is totally their song.
Genos's singing habit is a reference to Bender (from Futurama) and his reaction to having a magnet stuck on him; it makes him sing folk music uncontrollably (being a folk singer is a dream of his). Genos just gets really sappy in his post-coital daze and serenades Saitama with cheesy love songs.
I live for them being stupidly in love with each other orz
Forgive me.
*= In Saitama's apartment (his old one, anyways; I don't know about the layout in his new place) there's the main door, a hallway, and a door that leads to the main room. King got in from the main door (Saitama probably gave him a key or something to let King take back the games he lent to Saitama (and the ones Saitama steals) and was standing in the hallway. Also why King can hear Saitama and Genos so clearly.
*= Reference to the Delta Episode of the Pokémon ORAS games taken from this tumblr post: post/134075267734/shit-that-actually-happens-in-pokemon-a-giant
Genos did get a size upgrade before they had sex; it's just that Saitama really didn't notice (he probably felt it though). And just sayin' it was studied that most people prefer girth over length. Just…throwing that out there.
Note on grammar: Beloved (and a few others) were capitalized in this case because I was using it as an appellation, much like "Sensei" (which I always capitalize). I wrote it not just as a term of endearment but a title Saitama holds to Genos. But as I've been advised, it seems that capitalization is more stylized here and doesn't necessarily need to be (but I do want to capitalize it). But if y'all wanna fuss 'bout grammar, I'll change it :v
-throws confetti in the air- I quit this fandom.