Work Text:
While there were many things Senku excelled at, communication and human interaction were not things he would rank high in his skill set. He could of course explain scientific theories and processes or organize resources and dictate orders, but once emotions came into play and he needed to connect with people for comfort or conflict resolution he was at a loss. It was one of the many things he relied on Yuzuriha and Taiju for and they knew him well enough to understand and accept his emotional shortcomings.
Senku preferred communication to be clear and direct. Vagueness led to uncertainty which led to assumptions which led to disappointment. He never understood why people couldn’t just say what they meant and had to tip toe around things - it was frankly exhausting trying to wade through the layers of pleasantries and societal niceties to get to someone’s true intentions, yet somehow he was considered rude for being straight forward or taking someone at their word.
With Yuzuriha and Taiju miles away in the Empire of Might, Senku had been fortunate enough to find a suitable stand-in for handling the heavy emotional lifting with a certain mentalist.
Asagiri Gen’s entire profession had been dictated on his ability to connect with people, and because of that he was often anything but direct. He was a master at manipulation - if he wanted something, he talked around his intentions in a looping maze of gentle coaxing and obfuscation that inevitably led whoever he was talking to coming to the conclusion he aimed for, leaving them thinking it was their idea in the first place. He knew just what to say and how to say it, each word dipped in a double meaning to subconsciously press buttons or turn gears until they were just as he wanted.
He was always there , observing, calculating, learning how to approach each person to get the reaction he wanted and altering himself to fit the role needed. If it wasn’t so useful for expanding the Kingdom of Science, Senku would have found it far more annoying than he already did.
Though, following his birthday and the surprise gift of the observatory, Senku had felt a slight shift in their interactions. Gen would still talk in circles and oftentimes his smile didn’t reach his eyes, but the mazes of words he created were less of a labyrinth when he spoke to Senku, the masks he wore far thinner, and Senku had learned to navigate and peer past both to the glimpses of the real man beneath. It was also nice to have someone around who understood the references he made, not just to pop culture but to technology. It was liberating to not have to explain every little device or machine he mentioned and just be understood, even if the person he was talking to didn’t quite grasp the minute details.
As Senku climbed the ladder into Chrome’s hut, he caught sight of its owner fast asleep, sprawled on his bedroll and taking up as much space as possible, encroaching onto Gen’s bedroll a few feet away.
Gen’s empty bedroll.
He glanced up, seeing the flicker of candlelight glowing through the cracks in the door to the observatory, and continued up the next few steps.
Gen sat by the observatory window, face turned towards the sky, but gaze far away and distant. The line of his mouth was unhappy but at the creak of the floorboards under Senku’s feet it twisted into his usual stage smile.
“Finally calling it a night, Senku-chan?”
Senku grunted, giving up on being delicate in his steps as he approached, taking note of a small tray resting on the floor beside the mentalist that held a tea kettle and two cups, one halfway filled with still steaming tea. “Surprised you’re still up, don’t you need something like ten hours of beauty sleep a night?”
Gen laughed softly and flicked his hair theatrically, “Glad to hear you’ve noticed.” He watched as Senku moved to take a seat on the floor next to him and reached over to pour the scientist his own cup from the still warm kettle. “It’s still strange to me how quiet it is at night now.”
Ah Senku thought as he took the cup with a nod, breathing in the warm steam and herbal scent, so that’s why he’s awake. “Never thought I’d miss the hum of cheap fluorescent lights.”
“Or the way the central air would start and stop through the night,” Gen mused, not looking away until he saw Senku take a sip of his tea.
They sat in a companionable sort of silence broken only by the rare gust of wind rustling the trees and the other miscellaneous sounds of the forest settling in the pre-dawn hours. Senku was about halfway through his cup when Gen spoke again.
“Did you ever play Two Truths and a Lie in school?”
Senku raised a brow, “Never really had an interest in party games. Is it like Truth or Dare?”
Gen hummed, “Not really, though it is still rather simple as far as games go. One of us says three things about ourselves, two are true and one is a lie. The other has to guess which is the lie. If they guess wrong they have to drink, if they guess right the other person does.”
“We’re drinking tea, doesn’t make for the most thrilling of drinking games.”
Senku knew playing a game of deception against a self proclaimed master mentalist would only end poorly for him. He could lie about battle plans or obfuscate science facts with implications when necessary, but he’d never been good at lying for the sake of lying. No point in playing a game he knew he would lose.
“Oh, c’mon, play with me. It’ll be un-fay~” Gen’s face morphed into what Senku was sure was meant to be an endearing puppy dog face, but the signs of how practiced it was made it ring hollow. “After all the ueling-gray work you had me do today, I think I'm owed a little treat. I’ll even go first.”
Rolling his eyes, Senku leaned back against the wall and motioned for him to go.
Gen gave a happy little wiggle, settling back and giving a theatrically thoughtful look, even going so far as to tap his lower lip with his finger. “Let’s see… I started acting when I was seven. I was part of the student council in high school. I’m terrified of spiders.”
“There’s no way someone as lazy as you would be on the student council- that’s the lie.”
Senku knew immediately he was wrong as Gen raised a brow, the corner of his mouth curling up in a sly smirk. “I started acting at three, drink up Senku-chan.”
“What did someone like you even do on the student council?”
“Treasurer,” Gen shrugged, “though I missed school so much for work the responsibilities were delegated to my ever forgiving vice president for most of my term.”
Senku took a sip of his tea, shaking his head. “That tracks, finding someone else to do the heavy lifting for you so you can swoop in for the credit. Not sure why you even ran, the devotion of your fans wasn’t enough, you needed attention from your fellow students? Figured you’d attract more women for your harem?”
The mentalist shrugged, draining his cup and setting it on the tray, “The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who live without disgrace or praise.”
“Those are two completely different verses of Dante’s Inferno, and you didn’t even quote them correctly.” Senku watched as Gen stood up and blinked. “Don’t you want to keep playing? I haven’t gone yet.” He wasn't sure why he was arguing to keep playing a game he really had no interest in, but for some reason he was disappointed that Gen was leaving.
“I have ten hours of beauty sleep to get, remember? We can play some other time.”
Senku watched him go, disappearing down the ladder and leaving the silence of the night in his wake.
—
Senku forgot the interaction relatively quickly, far too busy building the parts needed for a cell phone and strategizing against Tsukasa’s army to play games.
But it came back to him the night Tsukasa was put into deep freeze, Gen approaching him with a large flask in one hand and two cups cradled in the other.
“The lying game again?”
Gen smirked, taking a seat next to him, “That’s actually a ifferent-day game, Senku-chan, but yes I know what you meant.” He shook the flask of what Senku assumed was sake at him, “Do you want to play?”
For some reason Senku bit back the immediate urge to tell the mentalist to leave him alone, instead taking a moment to just watch the other man. In the last several months, it was rarer and rarer for Gen to have any sort of mask up when it was just the two of them, and Senku had started to learn the signs to look for when a mask was in place. Tonight Gen’s gaze was placid, almost too blank, caught somewhere between masks in a way that Senku wasn't sure he understood. He wondered where the stage smile or pitying look he expected to see had gone.
Reaching over, he took the flask and one of the cups, pouring himself a healthy amount before passing the flask back. “Sure, you go first.”
“Hmmm… alright then.” Gen took a seat next to him, shifting a few times to get comfortable. “I’m an Aries,” he snickered at the unimpressed look Senku gave him, filling his own glass. There was a slight pause and Senku swore he could see the muscles in his jaw clench slightly. “I’m exclusively attracted to women. My favorite food is daifuku.”
“Your favorite food is cola.”
Gen tilted his head, his expression giving nothing away, “Is that your guess?”
Senku didn’t know enough about Zodiac signs nor did he have the faintest idea when Gen’s birthday was, which he was sure Gen knew so that one was probably true. And despite how effeminate Gen could be, Senku was never one to assume someone’s sexuality - especially with how often Gen had talked about his desire for a harem of beautiful women when he first appeared.
Although… Senku couldn’t recall a time in recent memory when Gen had made such a comment.
Still...
“Yeah, even though cola isn’t a food.”
Gen smiled at him for a long moment, almost long enough that Senku thought he’d correct him, but then he brought his glass to his mouth for a sip.
For some reason that made Senku’s chest feel tight and he felt somewhat… disappointed?
“Your turn, Senku-chan.”
Senku was a terrible liar and his glass of surprisingly sweet sake for the stone world was empty much faster than Gen’s. It wasn’t until the next morning when he awoke that he realized that dark cloud that had been hanging over him at the beginning of the night had thinned, the devastating weight he expected to feel on his shoulders lighter as though someone else was carrying it for him.
When he dove back into work, Gen was the only one who didn't try to stop him.
—
The next time they played was on the Perseus.
“No reason to let all of Francois-chan’s hard work go to waste,” Gen beamed, handing him an elegant and fruity looking cocktail and taking a seat next to him, looking over the expanse of open water stretching far past the horizon.
Senku sniffed it, getting a whiff of berries and the sharp tang of alcohol.
“You start this time.”
“You just want to get me drunk, mentalist.”
Gen laughed softly and Senku looked at his profile, wishing that the man had sat on his other side so his long forelock wasn’t blocking his face. His hair was soft, surprising in a stone world with limited hair products, but Gen had always been fastidious with his hygiene and the gentle scent of flowers drifted from him on the breeze.
Senku wondered when that scent had become so comforting to him.
“I was adopted,” he started, feeling a drip of condensation run down his finger. “My favorite food is ramen. I wanted to be a doctor when I was a kid.”
Gen gave a low, reflective sound, stirring his own drink with a small bamboo skewer garnished with an orange peel. Senku watched his delicate fingers trace the rim of the glass, cataloguing the callouses he could see on some of his finger tips, and a scar on his thumb he didn't recall the mentalist having before. He almost asked what had caused it when the mentalist finally spoke.
“You’d mentioned Byakuya wasn’t your biological father so that one is true, though from the stories you’ve told me I doubt he could’ve loved you more even if he had been.” The words were quiet but still made Senku’s stomach swoop in a way he couldn’t decide was uncomfortable or not. “That foxtail ramen of yours wasn’t exactly Michelin rated but it was made with far too much care for you not to at least enjoy normal ramen… tonkatsu style I bet.”
His fingers paused for a moment and a smile that Senku could only describe as fond seemed to cross his face.
“Something tells me that little Senku-chan always wanted to go to space. You may like helping others but medicine doesn’t quite fit your image… though you could also be referencing a doctorate in rocket science to try and trip me up.”
His head rocked over his shoulder to look at him, lips curling up slyly. Senku found himself somewhat distracted by the way the stars reflected in his eyes, soft and open as they were.
“Not that you’d put much value on a piece of paper when you could just let your skills do the talking. So that’s the lie, am I right?”
Senku drank, nose crinkling slightly at the snap of tart raspberries and cool mint. Gen let out a laugh bright as sunshine and the scientist hoped the flush to his cheeks could be written off as the chill of the sea air or slight inebriation.
“Your turn, Mentalist.”
“Let me think for a moment…” Gen’s eyes were still crinkled at the corner, even as his smile softened in thought. He hummed a sigh, raising a hand and putting a finger up with each statement. “I’m an only child. I’ve never had a pet. My favorite color is red.”
“Your favorite color is purple,” Senku replied with no hesitation.
“Oh? Maybe I just look great in purple and have a little sister you don’t know about.” The tone was joking but he brought his glass to his mouth regardless.
“Can’t imagine your parents would risk having two of you running around.”
“How ean-may~”
—
Despite knowing Gen for years and arguably becoming closer to him than any other member of their ragtag group, most of what Senku learned about him came from observation. For someone who talked a lot, the mentalist rarely said anything of any real substance about himself.
But Senku had learned from him to watch and really look . To figure out which tidbits of information were more important than they seemed, the small seemingly insignificant actions that spoke more than a thousand words ever could about who Gen truly was as a person.
He’d seen the way Gen’s shoulders always seemed somewhat tense, hunched over as if trying to make himself smaller, take up less space. How he somehow always had exactly what someone needed tucked up his sleeves no matter how seemingly random it was, oftentimes before they even realized they needed it. How free he was with praise to others, hiding it amongst swaths of obviously manipulative flattery and theatrical denial of good intentions, as if the thought of appearing genuine made his skin itch.
The way Gen didn’t seem to know just how much he mattered to those around him.
While Senku was sure no one else would notice, once he started looking as closely as he had been it was all he could see. The slight flicker of confusion that crossed the mentalist’s face when any sort of praise or concern was directed to him. Subtle, almost imperceptible, like a tiny crack in glass only visible when the light hit it just right- the twitch of a brow, a moment too long of stillness, eyes narrowing. Almost as though he couldn’t understand why anyone would give him a second thought beyond utility or amusement. Instinctual, a deeply ingrained moment of dissonance. It was the definition of ‘blink and you miss it’, always swiftly covered as a mask slid into place and the persona of the world’s most shallow man took the stage, preening like a peacock in a room full of mirrors, feeding off attention like oxygen. Arrogance worn like armor to deflect and distract.
More obvious but still unnoticeable to those not looking closely was how every time it happened, Gen would be less vocal in complaints about tasks around camp. More eager to volunteer his help, more obvious with his presence. As though he felt he needed to repay the kindness, prove his value and worthiness of the attention. Validate his existence.
As though the notion that he could be wanted just for being him was unfathomable.
And Senku had no idea how to fix it.
—
Another failed test launch and Senku cursed to himself, having been barred from the lab by Xeno.
The mind needs time to rest and recuperate as much as the body, a break will do us well.
“Yeah, whatever…” Senku huffed, replaying the older scientist’s words in his brain, perched on a cliff edge overlooking the launch pad. He knew logically that Xeno was correct and that he’d been firing on all cylinders for months, if not years, but his fingers itched to diagnose and solve the latest problem. The ever present threat of Why-Man always just on the peripherals of his thought, the need to move quickly or risk another petrification.
His skin felt too tight, a surplus of energy with no outlet sparking just beneath the surface.
“Now who let you out of your age-cay? Do I need to call animal control?”
The tension in his shoulders bled away and Senku couldn't fight the smile that crossed his face as the too-tight feeling began to fade. “Figured you’d be thrilled to have someone else to slack off with, Mentalist.”
Gen gasped theatrically, hand pressed to his chest as though physically wounded. “I am the epitome of tireless labor, Senku-chan, I can’t elieve-bay you’d imply otherwise.”
Smirking, Senku shifted slightly to make room for Gen to sit down next to him. “Did Chrome call you?”
“He may have mentioned that you had been forced to take some time off by our dear Xeno-chan and might need someone to keep you from breaking into the lab.” He smirked, producing a familiar flask from his sleeve, “And it's been quite a while since we had a chance to play our favorite game.”
“Yeah it’s been about 3700 years since I’ve played Dragon Quest, not sure what you could do about that tho- hey!” He snickered as Gen swatted his arm, accepting the glass he was offered and watching as Gen poured a decent amount in. It was a deep burgundy color but didn’t smell like wine, instead giving off the sweet scent of honey. “Who should go first?”
Gen poured his own glass, “I believe the honor should go to the chief, don’t you?”
Senku snorted, “Not much need for chiefs as civilization expands.”
“Well Science Jesus doesn’t sound quite as official and I haven't quite figured out how to get a crown to work with your hair so King Senku-chan is out..."
Chuckling softly at the tease, he swirled his glass in thought, trying to come up with a lie. “I once had a world record for speed-running Super Mario. I had never left Japan prior to petrification. I’ve never had a cavity.”
“Oooh this one’s ough-tay…” Gen grinned, looking genuinely thoughtful. He stared Senku down for a moment, going through a few dramatically contemplative poses, smirking at the snicker and eyeroll it earned him. “Traveling. You would have been far more excited to see new places had you never traveled before… aaaand Taiju-chan may or may not have let it slip that you’d been to Africa when you two were in school together. I am still very impressed by your dental hygiene, though.”
Senku shook his head, “Stabbed in the back by the big oaf once again…” he took a sip, the mead sweet with the tang of blueberries. He let it rest on his tongue for a long moment before swallowing, “This is actually pretty good.”
“Isn’t it? When Francois-chan mentioned they wanted to make mead a few months ago I suggested adding fruit to a few batches and they gave me a couple of bottles as a gift.”
“I like the blueberries,” Senku almost took another sip but thought better when he considered he’d surely be drinking again once Gen had his turn.
The mentalist smiled, “Well, they are your favorite after all. Francois-chan was originally considering raspberries but since you’ve never much cared for those I gently steered them in another direction.”
Senku paused, “I eat raspberries all the time.”
“And make that squinty little face when you do,” Gen reached over and poked him between the eyebrows. “But when given a choice you always pick blueberries.”
Senku swatted at his hand and took another sip to try and disguise the sudden tightness in his throat. “Guess I know what topic to avoid on my next turn…”
Snickering, Gen turned his attention back over the cliff, the launch pad looming like an obelisk beneath a full moon, a reminder of their current goal. He was quiet for a long moment, contemplative as he looked over the ocean, and, not for the first time, Senku wished he could peer into his head and unravel the thoughts behind those calculating eyes.
“I pierced my own ear when I was sixteen to impress the person I had a crush on. I learned I had situs inversus when I had to get my appendix out. I love champagne and miss drinking it at fancy events.”
“You hate champagne,” Senku replied easily, pleased at the surprised look Gen gave him. “You don’t drink much and when you do it’s always sweet things. I'd only had champagne once before and it was dry as hell, you’d probably gag if you had to drink it.”
Gen pouted, taking a sip of his drink. “And here I thought adding extra details would have thrown you off.”
“You pulled that one already the first time we played, and you never pull the same trick twice with someone,” Senku smirked proudly. “Though I'm curious about the ear piercing thing, why wouldn’t you just go to a professional?”
“My manager would’ve freaked if I even suggested it, so I ended up with a sewing needle and a potato in the bathroom of a random hotel I was staying at,” he tugged on his ear lobe, the hole closed with time or due to petrification Senku didn’t know. “The second I saw the blood I threw up right into the sink and almost passed out."
Senku raised an amused eyebrow, “And I’m sure your crush swooned at how manly you were afterwards making it all worth it.”
Gen huffed, throwing his head back dramatically. “He didn’t even notice! I had to point it out to him and all he said was it was crooked. I wanted the floor to swallow me up I was so embarrassed.”
Senku took notice of the pronouns, tucking that tidbit away for further reflection. “He sounds like a total dick.”
“What can I say, I’ve always been an amazing judge of character. I mean look who I choose to hang out with.”
Senku gave his shoulder a shove, laughing good naturedly as Gen leaned into it, rocking gently before settling again.
And if he settled just that much closer, neither of them were going to comment on it.
—
“You didn’t ask for anything.”
Gen barely reacted, though Senku could see the way his mouth curled slightly at the corner. “You were quite busy with all the other requests, wouldn’t want to overtax you right before your ission-may.”
Senku frowned, able to hear the reed of tension through the forced levity of Gen’s voice - it had been a long time since he'd used that voice with him. Deflecting, obfuscating, the mentalist still wasn’t looking at him, staring up at the sky with unseeing eyes and somehow smaller than Senku ever remembered him looking.
Two truths and a lie. Gen was elected treasurer of the student council, nominated by an underclassman against his will after his first TV spot made him somewhat famous and no longer the weird kid who did card tricks and he screamed like a girl whenever a spider popped up. He started acting at three.
Two truths and a lie. Gen’s birthday was April first and his favorite food was strawberry daifuku. He was attracted to both men and women.
Two truths and a lie. Gen was an only child and his favorite color was red. He had kept a pet rabbit in elementary school named Mochi.
Two truths and a lie. Gen’s organs were mirrored and he’d pierced his own ear in a hotel room to catch a boy’s attention. He hated champagne.
Two truths, Senku was going to the moon in the morning and-
“I’m never too busy for you.”
That caught Gen’s attention, the mentalist finally looking up at him, brow knit in confusion. Senku knew his ears must be turning red and decided to disguise it by shoving a glass into Gen’s hand.
“I figured the least I could do is play a game with you, if you’re not going to ask for any physical items.”
Gen fumbled with the glass, the liquid inside almost sloshing over the rim, looking between it and Senku as the scientist took a seat next to him. “Should you be drinking tonight?”
“It’s an electrolyte mix, no alcohol,” Senku shrugged. “Want me to start?”
Huffing, Gen shook his head as of he was dealing with a stubborn child, a fond sort of exasperation as he admonished him. “You should be resting.”
“Fine, I’ll go first.” Senku took a breath. “My favorite manga is Doraemon. I’m left-handed.” He paused briefly, taking a moment to look at Gen - face lit by moonlight, eyes soft and smile warm - and felt his resolve harden. “I’ll come back to you.”
Gen’s eyes widened, brows knit as he searched Senku’s face. The scientist maintained eye contact, taking the opportunity to memorize every detail of the mentalist’s face, the way the wind ruffled his hair, the subtle scent of flowers emanating from his clothes.
After several moments of silence, Gen huffed and looked away with an undeniable blush coloring his cheeks and his lips pursed in a pout. “You would like Doraemon, you ambidextrous dick.” He didn’t touch on the second truth.
Senku chuckled, taking a sip and leaning back to look up at the sky. They sat together in a comfortable silence, the noises of the city below floating up to them on the breeze and Senku found himself nostalgic for quiet nights in Ishigami village, only the sounds of the forest breaking through the crisp night air.
Gen shifted slightly, pressing their sides together, and Senku didn’t dare move lest he scare him off. Once the mentalist settled, he hummed, “It’s your turn, you know.”
“I know,” he murmured, and Senku felt the weight of his head rest on his shoulder. “I’ll take my turn when you come back.”
—
It hadn’t taken long for the recovery ship to arrive and fish them out of the sea, the hours passing quickly in comparison to how they dragged during the debrief and trip back to Treasure Island. Endless meetings and congratulations and heartfelt words, a deluge of claps to the shoulder and long drawn questions from every person but the one he wanted to see.
As soon as they hit shore, Senku began his search. It longer than he was proud to admit, many of his usual haunts vacant despite Senku's surety that he'd be found there, but he eventually found Gen sitting in the empty control room. Abandoned coffee cups littered almost every available surface and all but one of the monitors were dark.
He approached slowly, peering over Gen’s shoulder to see the monitor lit up with a grainy photo of their return capsule bobbing in the ocean. They stood in silence for a few long breaths before Gen finally spoke.
“I can’t sing. I’m allergic to bee stings.”
He turned his head, looking up at Senku with an expression that he’d never seen on him before. Eyes wet and red rimmed, dark circles underneath as if Gen hadn’t slept since they’d set out on their journey, but a smile so bright and full of relief that Senku felt a physical pang in his chest.
“I’m in love with you.”
Senku watched Gen's face as the man gave a small hiccuping breath, shoulders sagging as if the confession had physical weight. He catalogued the twitch in his eyebrows, the tremors at the corners of his lips, the way he avoided eye contact as tears welled up. Nervous. A thread pulled beyond the point of tension, ready to snap.
He reached out and took Gen's hand, “Huh, I didn’t know you were allergic to bee stings.”
Gen snorted wetly, tears falling despite the laugh he couldn’t fight. He raised his free hand to wipe at his eyes, “God, you can be such a dick.”
“Alright, you’re gonna need one more truth and a lie, but then I get to go twice in a row, too.”
He grinned as Gen laughed harder, reaching up and brushing a stray tear away before letting his palm rest on the mentalist’s cheek. Sniffling, Gen looked up at him with a watery smile.
“The moon was as amazing as it was terrifying. I was the star player on my high school basketball team.” Gen snorted again, rolling his eyes and Senku stroked his thumb over Gen’s cheekbone, bringing the hand he held to his chest and holding it firmly against his heart as it pounded in his chest. “I’m in love with you, too.”
Gen gave a low, shuddering breath, pressing his hand more firmly against him, eyes closing as he focused on the rhythmic beats. Evidence that Senku had survived the trip, that he’d returned safe, that he was there.
When he spoke, his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, crackly with emotion and fresh tears.
“You came back.”
“I told you I would.”
Senku had never been great with words, but actions he could manage. So he leaned in slowly, giving Gen every chance to pull away.
He didn’t.