Chapter Text
Genos was failing.
Three weeks ago, the appearance of a C on his transcript would have been considered abhorrent. Now, the numbers “56” glared at him in angry red ink from the top of his latest test. Granted, judging by the groans of disappointment emanating from his peers, his detestable score probably hadn’t dragged the class average down too horribly. The voice of his professor jerked his attention back to the front of the room.
“I’m impressed,” he announced, directing everyone’s gazes to the board. “An average of 79 in this class is no small feat. You’re a promising batch of students. Don’t disappoint me now.” A small smile graced his lips. “Moving on, don’t forget about your term paper due next week…”
“79?” The girl next to him whispered incredulously. “I’ve never pulled less than an A- since the fifth grade…” She looked close to tears.
And three weeks ago, Genos would have been crying with her at the sight of such an abominable score. He had spent the entirety of his high school career preparing for college, working fervently and never losing sight of his aspiration to attend one of the nation’s top universities. He had plowed his way through all honors/AP courses with flying colors. He was fluent in three languages. He was a talented artist and varsity soccer player. He peppered his resume with countless science and math awards, as well as being class president his junior and senior years. He achieved perfect scores on his entrance exams and was endowed with a full-ride scholarship to his first choice school. Undeniably, Genos deserved to be in this classroom, surrounded by the country’s best and brightest young scholars. Yes, Genos had done anything and everything to prepare for college, considered every possibility and obstacle...
Well, except for this.
His professor droned on, emphasizing the importance of the term paper to their first quarter grades. His voice, even when bored and monotone, commanded the attention of everyone in the room. It contained a quiet wisdom that demanded respect from students and faculty alike. In fact, most everything about this professor was rather unassuming upon first glance. For starters, he was prematurely bald, which the class had quickly learned not to acknowledge. Below the shiny dome of his forehead, his features were soft and unassertive. He did appear to have a rather toned physique, but he kept it hidden beneath baggy sweaters and khaki trousers. In every way possible, Professor was almost obtrusively average. Yet if that were the case, he would not be working among the world’s elite intelligentsia and introducing Genos to the world of mechanical engineering.
Least to say, his class wasn’t stupid. They had all grasped their teacher’s silent prowess from the very first lecture. Despite his lax posture and demeanor, Professor Saitama was an authoritative and mysterious figure. From time to time, when he got excited, his features seemed to sharpen and a passionate fire alit in his eyes. The class lived for these rare occasions when they could witness Saitama’s true nature. So, the students coped with the absurd difficulty of the material in exchange to witness their teacher’s strange charisma firsthand. In fact, Genos was positive he would have dropped the course in its first week if he had not been so drawn to his instructor.
However, the bizarre magnetism that initially kept him in the class was now backfiring in the worst way possible. And suddenly, despite the grace and eloquence of Saitama’s lectures, Genos could not keep his mind from wandering while the minutes ticked by.
A week ago, Genos had even exchanged his seat in the front to the very backmost desk in a weak attempt to deny his situation. He went from being the enthusiastic top student in the course to a quiet, unresponsive slump in the corner. Yet, it was hard to hide from his problems in a room of only 16 people.
“Oi, Genos, you listening back there?”
Genos snapped out of his reverie and jerked upright in his seat. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“Repeat what I last said.”
“Uhh…” he struggled, “something about the term paper?”
“Perhaps twenty minutes ago. Come back to earth, kid.”
A round of giggles swept through the room. Saitama locked eyes with him. Genos felt his face rush with heat.
Suddenly, the familiar sound of the bell announced the arrival of lunch. Genos had never been more grateful for the passage of time. He needed to get out of that room, needed to clear his head, needed to get a hold of himself because the way his eyebrows rose when he looked at him oh god-
Genos’s frantic dash for the door was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face-to-face with Saitama. Considering Genos was a few inches taller than his professor, the proximity should not have been so daunting for the poor teenager.
“Genos,” Saitama began, “Stay for a couple minutes, would you? I’d like to have a chat.”
Fuck.
-
After the rest of the class cleared out, Saitama casually strode over to his desk and sunk into his chair. Genos followed suit, clumsily pulling up a seat in order to face him. Saitama picked up a pair of black-rimmed glasses and adjusted them on his nose before looking up to confront his pupil. Genos gulped.
“I assume you know why we need to talk.” Saitama scratched the back of his neck absentmindedly.
“Professor, I-”
“No need to explain-” he held up a hand- “I just want to make sure you’re okay, kid.” Saitama leaned forward, wafting the subtle scent of his cologne across the desk. Genos nearly choked on air. “I know the transition to college is hard, and it’s great to let loose and party now that you’re on your own.” His student shifted uncomfortably. “But I need you to take this class seriously. You’re a bright young man and you started off so strong.” Saitama gazed expectantly at his pupil, who remained silent. He sighed. “Whatever’s happening, let me know what I can do to help. I miss your old spirit.” His eyes were suddenly filled with concern.
The teen had to take a moment to process the rare emotion on his teacher’s face before responding. “It’s… nothing like that, professor-”
“Please, call me Saitama.”
“S…Saitama,” Genos corrected. The elder man awaited his student to continue, but the room lapsed to silence.
Genos needed to get out. He was smoldering under Saitama’s gaze, at a loss for words, ignoring the rising heat in his lower gut. Thankfully, his professor sensed the tension and leaned back in his seat.
“Just remember the paper is worth 40% of your quarter grade. If you do well, you can pull yourself up to a B.” Genos nodded, finding the floor fascinating. “I miss your participation. You brought a lot to our discussions, Genos.”
The sound of his name uttered by that enthralling voice brought his gaze back up to the conversation. Suddenly, his jeans were a tad too tight and this couldn’t be happening and he needed to get back to his dorm…
“Take care of yourself,” Saitama dismissed him.
“Thank you, sir.” Genos stood so abruptly that the force of his movement toppled a mug of pens on the desk and sent them scattering all over the floor. He didn’t stick around long enough to see his professor’s reaction or to help with the mess. Shifting his backpack precariously over his crotch, Genos took off at a run, mind racing.
Had he just popped a boner!?
Genos, one of the top students in the country, was failing a class because he had a crush on his teacher.