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In man, exists a singular knowledge: want.
It persisted against petrification, it bloomed in the hearts of scientists and villagers, and now, sitting squarely in the base of his esophagus, Gen, severely, wanted something.
Ryusui’s grandiose yearnings, his boasts of wanting more, more, more, for it was noble to desire, once inspired bewildered laughs in Gen. Indeed, the Stone World had woken up some of the most eccentric personalities, and they were made all the more polarizing with the trauma of building the earth from the ground up. But the closer they chipped into modern reality, the more Gen recognized that desire was not always noble. Sometimes, it was decaying.
He had known desire in cola, then humanity’s progress, then the moon.Who else may be more in tune with desire than a mentalist, the very person that exploits inherent wants? Humans, he found, could be woefully hedonistic, and in a way, Gen saw, he was the same.
Huddled in the lab, he saw him, his back creating an arch over one of the many benches pressed against the wall. As quickly as humanity progressed, it often found pitfalls, and with it, repairs. The more intricate electrical work was his responsibility, not for lack of giving the same work to others, but because he found so much quiet joy in each individual, moving part.
For a moment, in the doorway, Gen said nothing. He only held the tray of tea, two cups, silently as Senku soldered two bent pieces of metal together. When his mouth tried to form the syllables of the scientist’s name, all that came out was a half-puffed laugh.
Senku looked up.
“Ah, Gen. What is it?”
Formalities were useless, and so were greetings. Wasting time with a “hello” neither of them meant only wasted time, and the man hellbent on efficiency saved his words for only the most important components to conversation.
A strained smile stuttered onto Gen’s lips, “I brought you tea. How long have you been in here, Senku-chan~?”
Unless Senku had stuck the adhesive strips of an electrocardiogram to Gen’s chest, he doubted he would be able to discern the rapid toiling of his heart, or the nervous sweat that stabbed his hairline. But should he get any closer, he might recognize the sweep of cerise shading over his nose and cheeks, or how his eyes could not focus on his counterpart for longer than a few seconds.
Yearning was decay, and he felt his heart melt in acrid desire.
“Only a few hours,” He set the soldering iron on its stand, where the blazing tip of it wouldn’t catch fire to anything else, and stood up. Senku, though still lacking in stamina overall, had certainly built up a smooth layer of muscle over the years. That could not be denied in the way Senku’s sleeves tightened just so around his biceps, or the cinching around his waist. Gen averted his gaze as Senku came closer, a veritable deer caught in the wolf’s sights.
Terse silence, initially. The blabbermouth of the two found his mouth dry and helpless. Senku advanced ever closer, standing so that he might pluck the tea mug from the tray.
Senku jerked his head to the side, past Gen, who had mustered up enough courage to look at him at last. “Let’s head outside,” Senku offered, “I can tell you want to tell me to take a break, so I’ll beat you to it, mentalist.”
“Ah… haha~ How clever of you, Senku-chan. Knowing my desires even before I can verbalize them?” He took from the tray his own mug, then tucked the tray underneath his arm and followed Senku outside.
“It’s a matter of probability and common sense; if you came into my lab, uninvited, with a tray of tea, then the only logical answer is that you’re in here to try to bully me into taking a break,” Senku threw his shoulders up in a shrug as he descended the couple of steps out of his lab and into the sunshine. Gen stood beside him, the mug warming the palms of his hands, and, despite himself, let a quiet laugh lilt from his mouth.
He hid his lips with his tea mug, amused, “Are all humans that predictable?”
Senku, monotone, grunted, “Yeah. But that includes me. For instance, you brought the tea knowing I would agree. If you thought I might be able to say no, you wouldn’t have brought something for me, actually, the two of us, in the first place.”
Bending his head, Gen glanced down at his feet, “I thought you may be more inclined to take a break if you had someone to join you.”
“Someone, or you?”
Swift as a bullet, Gen’s eyes dart up to Senku, who has taken a keen interest in a vine-like flora that crawled its way up the side of the lab. Steam billowed from behind his lips as he took a sip of the tea, and Gen, searching for words to fill the silence, stammered an answer out.
“S…Senku-chan, of course me! After all, who else might be able to manipulate you into taking care of yourself?”
“Mn,” Senku tapped his fingers against his mug, then crouched to the ground to sit, “We’re past the stage of manipulation, Gen. I know you, and the kinds of things you want.”
“Oh~? Reading my mind, are we?” A mental game, the tug of war between minds, excited Gen enough to forget the embarrassment of standing, then sitting, so close to Senku. As the evening scraped into the daylight, eating whatever sunrays dared to try to live on into the night, Gen wondered how many more breaks they may take, seemingly isolated from their little, constructed cities.
Electric lights twinkled on, one by one, around them, like manmade stars. They illuminated paths, even the one leading to the lab, but for Gen, all they did was cast manufactured starlight onto his own angel.
His nose wrinkled, and he took another sip of tea. He remembered being told, once, that romance could be saved for the modern world, but how much more modern would he have to suffer through for his own chance?
“I don’t have to read your mind because I know it as well as my own,” Senku tapped his temple, then cast a grin at Gen, “For better or for worse, probably for the rest of my life.”
“Those sound like vows, oh wise Commander of Science.” Gen tilted his head, the fun music to his voice fading for brief seriousness, “...Surely that isn’t a bad thing?”
Warmth flooded the top of Gen’s hand, and when he looked down, he half assumed to have scalding tea burning through whatever delicate skin it might reach. Indeed, that had to be the most logical answer, because Senku was not affectionate, he did not desire love, the milky bloat of dying want was restrained to scientific progress and little else. Yet, all that graced him was an odd, but fond, tenderness. His heart may have stopped melting, but now his hand was in its stead.
Senku took another sip of tea, and leaned to the side of him, until the shadow cast in front of them by the lights on the path held no gaps between their bodies.
“Not a bad thing at all."