Mayu chortled quietly when the list began as she sat down and patted her hair dry, brushing it to smooth out the wild ruffled state water and lighting left it in. A long day of usage had left her prone to sparking outbursts and static snaps. Luckily the backlash was lessened more-or-less on those present. The quest for good products for frizzy hair continued, however, bottle after bottle, sale after sale. A few combinations had proved worthy of repeating even if Saitama had to be the one to buy them under odd looks. And the occasional question about shampooing wigs. Genos had not been amused by the snide edge of that one.
Dinner was being steadily finished as the itemization went on.
It had indeed not started until she returned from the bath. Whatever had happened in-between was not knowknown to her.
Each question was also written down in new series of notebooks without a label. Still on number one, luckily. It sounded less daunting to clarify a couple of pages instead of a couple of volumes even if said pages were filled with neatly numbered and written rows of pencil characters.
The creation of such a thing really came as no surprise by now. There was the training notebooks, Mayu's coaching notebooks, the compact coaching notebooks for her use, the relationship notebook, the household chores registry, the coupon binder for Sensei's sake, the sale folder divided by hour, day and week. Saitama gave great praise for the last two. Made planning easier.
Genos plus need for information equalled research, systemization, notes and relentless questions. Period.
Saitama was growing red and redder as the specifics grew. Whatever had amused him at first started to fade. It came down to muffling groans and slightly concerned looks into the kitchen. It was not as if he wouldn't answer but it was funny to see him get rattled. Last time she had not been privy to the first hand witnessing of "the talk". He was able to calm down after a pat on his back and they started to actually address the questions.
The meal went on in a semi-awkward exchange of solutions, ideas and clarifications. Started with the basics, touching, kissing, electricity. Ticklish for Saitama, enjoyable for Genos, unrestrained for Mayu.
Talking about sex with the girls wouldn't be odd. It could get awkward amidst details and teasing too but it wasn't as blush-inducing. Certainly it was more sharply worded. Doing it wasn't that blush-inducing either if they were not counting the basic biology involved in the event. Even just talking with them about it one-on-one wouldn't be too outlandish.
But together?
It felt peculiar.
Where did some boundaries began?
They found some quickly, as expected.
Mayu found herself hesitating in the wording, saying things that would have been easier said to the person she meant instead of to the air for both to hear. Genos never lost his straightforwardness, almost too sharp but they were used to it. After a first run of short answers Saitama began to say more about whatever he was being questioned about.
They also learned to skirt them swiftly enough as the meal went on.
Some things didn't need to be talked about, at least not right away. The catalogue didn't even deserve a mention.
Though it started to loosen the tangled mood as the conversation flowed and grew. Words became leass heavy and their meanings more direct, less constricted.
It got easier.
The exchange didn't stop as they finished and put things away, washing dishes compatibly, leaving them to dry, settling in the clear room. The conversation came to a sort of a natural end as each turned to a task or a hobby in a comfortable silence.
The TV was on, murmuring news, giving a backdrop to the scribbling, as Genos busied himself with taking notes. Trusting his memory but committing it to writing made sense to him- Now that things had been made clear some of the doubts could be marked as resolved.
Mayu leaned against Saitama, scooping spoonfuls of marbled pudding, balancing a book against bent knees, diving into it, cuddling Sensei's back.
Sensei's attention was drifting to the screen, the woman's weight meaningless to his balance. The arm he had place back to prop himself braced her as well, close to cradling.
Looking up, stopping for a while Genos considered. What more to add? To say?
Preferences, differences and tastes aside they found ways to work.
Funny how it seemed to blend with their practices.
At first they worried about Mayu.
Body-wise and sleepiness-wise.
Lately she was making strides in matching their pace.
It did match Mayu's first attempt to explain…He glanced towards them. She looked up too and smiled, lowering one leg, patting the thigh.
The cyborg found himself doing the same, expression changing, closing the notebook and picking up his own book, taking a place nearer to them, falling back, placing his head on her leg, feeling the soft brush of her fingers through his hair along with the tingle of wisps moving through them. Sensei glanced at him and showed a smile too.
«At this time we are issuing a Tiger level alert for H-City's outskirts.» The Disaster Channel chimed in with the emergency jingle playing to catch the viewers' attention. The three looked up from their entertainment. Genos sat up, turning, glaring at the screen, focused. Mayu draped herself over Saitama's shoulder, looking at the TV Saitama sighed and waited. «A worm of gigantic proportions is digesting a path of destruction wherever it crawls...»
"Are we going Sensei?" Genos was half-ready to stand.
"I'm already in my pyjamas..." Mayu murmured, slipping down Sensei's back, picking up her book again, unwilling to zap herself to some wriggling, sure-to-be-gloopy mess without shoes.
"No one is calling." Saitama noted, stretching, yawning, slouching. "Maybe they have it handled."
Sure enough the Association had dispatched their best to keep shoring up their reputation after the alien debacle. The fight was transmited live, exciting and as sticky as Mayu had suspected an exploded giant creepy-crawly would be.