Work Text:
A recording studio for a kind of game show.
An audience.
A pastel-coloured stage.
A presenter, female, in a showy red dress, dark purple hair, carefully styled, a big device behind her, along with two chairs, Amai Mask sitting in one, Genos in the other.
"And so, we have Demon Cyborg's phone attached to the Moshi-moshi machine. Remember, it uses voice recognition to ensure we can have a conversation with the person on the other end without slowing down to type." said the presenter with a smile to the camera.
The metal of the designer chair he was on creaked lightly under Genos' grip. And Amai Mask was smirking at him.
Of all the things he did to keep his ranking so he stood a chance of reaching the top ten like his master wanted, this was probably the stupidest.
He really preferred just fighting things. Getting acid spat on him was a lot less painful than having to showboat like this.
Then he remembered Saitama's and Kuseno's look at his wrecked state.
Okay, maybe not less painful.
He forcibly stilled his hand.
"As you can see, there are unexpectedly few contacts in Demon Cyborg's phone. My for such a popular hero, you sure are secluded, hmm?"
The screen showed "Doctor (emergency contact)", "Bang", "King" and "Mumen" in a fairly normal way.
Selected by the machine, however, pulsing pink and having little stars and hearts animated over it, (whoever programmed that obviously had too much time on their hands, Genos thought snidely), was a contact designated "beloved".
A word, Genos knew, that would draw the attention of those organizing this show like a bucket of blood in the ocean drew sharks.
But what else was he to do? It felt disrespectful to just use Saitama's name anywhere but in an intimate setting.
After getting Saitama a phone, the written designation "sensei" in his contact list had lasted all of three days before Genos had decided that the word alone, without the way to pronounce it when thinking of him, or speaking to him, or speaking about him, was simply too flat and undescriptive.
He had used "my everything", he had used "light of my life", he had used "my reason for living" which could be taken in two different ways, he had used "love", "boyfriend", "lover", "partner", "saviour", "hero", "the warmth of skin and your smile", "future husband", "brown eyes like finally being able to breathe", "lazy kisses in the morning", and countless other words, names, descriptions and fragments of poems, and some of those had lasted several hours, sometimes even entire days, before Genos decided that they weren't good enough, not nearly accurate enough, or missed some vital aspect that described what Saitama-sensei meant to him.
Needless to say, the ones that lasted the longest usually were ones that got typed in just before fighting a monster that was slightly too powerful, resulting in Genos needing repairs and not being able to change the contact designation to something more appropriate right away.
"Beloved" was something he'd typed in this morning, with Genos being a bit in a minimalist mood.
"But my, what is this?" said the presenter cheerfully.
"Our stoic Demon Cyborg has a lover? This is certainly news to us!" She paused to let some of the heartbroken moans from the audience die out, before continuing with a glittering smile.
"How exiting! I wonder what kind of person she could be? Fortunately for us all, the handsome hero idol Amai Mask is here to help us find out!"
Said Amai Mask raised an eyebrow at Genos, who maintained his normal stoic face.
Saitama would have already seen through it, and would have asked "Something bothering you, Genos?", if it wasn't obvious from the situation, but Saitama wasn't here.
Amai Mask put on his welcoming, friendly, professional face just before the cameras swerved over to him, and the applause rose like a wave.
Genos felt sick.
Somewhere between abandoned and wrecked buildings, Saitama's phone buzzed. He took off one blood-stained glove with his teeth, and used the bare hand to fish the device from next to his wallet.
Normally, he'd think it too much of a hassle to pick up the phone while he was walking home, but, there was only one person who had his phone number so far.
He didn't expect the whatsapp.
"Hello my love, how are you doing?" said Amai into the microphone. The words showed up on screen.
"Who is this" was the answer in text on the massive screen in the studio. And with those words, Genos found it in himself to relax a little. Of course. Of course sensei would have the insight to realize it was not him within a single sentence.
Amai frowned.
"It's Genos. Can't you tell by the name in your contacts?"
"It has Genos' name on it. Did you steal Genos' phone? That's rude"
"Oh, very well, you caught me. I am Amai Mask. In truth this is part of a show. You are familiar with the Moshi-moshi game, I take? Your boyfriend agreed to participate, and you were the one selected we call."
"What did you do to Genos"
"Nothing at all, miss. He is sitting here in the studio, watching this conversation."
"This is the interview thing he had to take?"
"Indeed it is. Can you tell us something about yourself?"
"Dunno. Will you give Genos his phone back? He likes that thing"
"Oh, he will of course get it back after this part of the show. But what does he like about this phone? Calling you, maybe?"
"He likes to fiddle with the settings he doesn't need to call me much"
"Oh, why not? Aren't you his girlfriend?"
"We share an apartment"
"How daring. Your relationship must be pretty serious."
"He's the most important person in my life can I speak to him now?"
Had Kuseno gone through with installing red LED's in Genos' cheeks, they would be glowing by now. Something in him urged to run to sensei's side right now to return those words in kind.
"Ah, no, part of this game is that the owner of the phone has no true input on the conversation."
"How pointless"
Genos nearly smiled at that.
"Oh, not pointless at all. Don't you think the public has a right to know something about such public figures as the high ranking heroes are? It's always nice to know something about the people who work so hard to defeat evil, don't you think? After all, you must have met Demon Cyborg while he was busy doing something like that."
"Private lives are kind of none of yours, though."
"You are fairly blunt, aren't you."
"Sometimes."
"Our audience is rather curious about what paragon of femininity has managed to capture the Demon Cyborg's heart. Won't you at least tell us how you look?"
"Pretty normal. Kinda tall maybe?"
"Really? Shorter or taller than 170 centimeters?"
"Taller. Shorter than Genos, tho"
"Are you a blond, brunet or redhead?"
"I have black hair."
Genos blinked. Technically it was true, but...
"Is said hair short or long? And how do you keep it?"
"I'd say short, and kind of messy, if at all."
Genos blinked again. Of course. Why would sensei give these people answers that they wanted? Speaking the truth, and letting Amai Mask come to his own erroneous conclusions... truly, his master was brilliant.
"Do you wear glasses?"
"No"
"What colour are your eyes?"
"Brown."
"What features does Genos like best about you?"
"Me being fairly strong, practical and trying to do the right thing the best I can."
Also his peaceful demeanor towards life, his insight and wisdom, his infinite kindness, his heroic nature, and countless other things.
"I meant physical features."
"My hands. My ass. Probably my thighs. My abs too. My face. My arms."
Genos could stare into that face forever, and he'd worship those thighs for as long as he was allowed. As for the rest, how could one refrain from appreciating perfection?
"I see. Abs you said? You are the sportive type?"
Delicious, lickable abs. Ah. It was ever so much better to think about those abs than to think of this farce of a show.
"I work out every day."
"You said nothing about your chest, though."
"It's kinda flat."
For a woman, perhaps. And for a bodybuilder. Master's chest was slightly raised with purely functional muscle. He thought about masters chest, and already longed to have his mouth on those pecs.
"Are you younger than Demon Cyborg?"
"Older"
"How scandalous" Amai purred into the microphone.
"Why"
"An older woman with a younger man, surely you know what that looks like?"
"You mean that it looks like you're one of those sexist guys you hear about?"
Amai Mask's face twitched, for a microsecond, into something ugly.
"I'm trying to say how the audience would see it."
"So, you want an audience who looks at women like a bunch of numbers rather than as a person? That's weird. You're weird"
"We're simply trying to find out whether Demon Cyborg is in a good situation. He is fairly young for a serious relationship, after all."
"That's up to him"
"Do you really think you're good enough for him?" Amai Mask continued lightly.
Genos gritted his teeth and imagined the man's smarmy face crumpling around a metal fist.
"Also up to him"
"Don't you think you're deceiving him and taking advantage of his inexperience?"
"No. Also, you're upsetting Genos if he is really watching this"
"Did you pursue and start this relationship with him?" Amai Mask said, his face developing a slight twitch around one eye.
"No. He did."
"I see. And how did this go?"
"Shouldn’t you ask him?"
"I'm asking you."
"He burned my clothes off while fighting a monster, he got hurt, I killed the monster before it could kill him, he stalked me for a couple of days, including stealing the food off of my plate and camping out in the building opposite my apartment, with binoculars, and taking notes, he showed up at my place, hung around there regularly, and then he showed up one day with all his stuff and moved in with me."
"What." said Amai Mask, his mouth gaping open unattractively, his eyes wide with the beginnings of horror.
"I'm pretty sure he mostly likes to see me be all strong and powerful and covered in something else’s blood. Me killing something without effort really gets him going."
"What."
"You said that already."
"You're joking. You have to be joking."
"Not really."
"This is... this isn't a romance, this is a horror movie!"
"What can I say, our eyes met over the countless corpses of our enemies, and, well, he fights pretty cool, and the fire is pretty awesome."
"You've got to be joking." Amai Mask looked close to hysterics.
"Maybe a little. My clothes were simply another causality. He was fighting a monster in an abandoned part of city Z and didn't expect anyone to be there when he set everything on fire. Pretty sure the stalking was to make sure I was good people, and to see if he could figure out how I got strong. I invited him at my place, we went on a couple of dates, we joined the association, and the moving in was really more a move of convenience. Everything was strictly platonic until about a month ago, and we got along pretty well by then."
"Of course you were joking. Rather obviously so in retrospect." Amai Mask had the look of tremulous relief of seeing the light at the end of an extremely dark and creepy tunnel.
"That's what you get for upsetting Genos."
Amai's face froze.
"Also, I googled you just now. I've never seen your face before, but I played one of the songs with your name on, and I think I recognize the voice."
Amai put on a smile. "Of course, I am a nationally recognized artis..."
"You're toilet guy." the text appeared.
The smile stayed, in a way, on Amai's face. His teeth were still visible, in any case, clenched together as they were. The rest of his expression seemed to do something melty.
"Yup. Toilet guy. I think we can call this interview finished. Bye. Don't forget to give Genos his phone back."
The screen went black.
Genos didn't realize he was grinning until Amai's waxy-looking face turned to him.
In dead silence, the presenter handed Genos his phone back. Genos pocketed it, feeling relaxed and cheerful.
The rest of the show went far more to Genos' liking.
It was truly remarkable what a good mood and a positive outlook could do for handling an unusual situation.
Of course, when it was aired, Genos had to see it to make sure Saitama wasn't slandered or presented in a bad light in it, and Saitama had to see it to make sure they hadn't done anything bad to Genos.
The show was edited, but the details of what had happened came across fairly well. Genos had no big complaints about it.
Saitama looked at him sideways, with a rare shy look.
"You really have me in your phone as beloved?" His cheeks were red, his mouth formed a little smile, his eyes had a touch of wonder to them.
"Yes."
He would soon again anyway.
If sensei made that face from being called that so indirectly, obviously it was the perfect choice.