#bakerau

“I’d say things are going well,” Fubuki replied as she twirled her fork. Pasta night with her sister since their falling out (“catfight,” Saitama had called it, earning him a double shift on the weekend) had always been a little uneasy to the younger, but it had been years since the incident and she was happy things were easing up between them. Fubuki had missed this, after all—chatting about the business, plans for improvement, expansion, and profit.

And of course…

A little gossip never hurt anyone either. The woman bit her cheek, a smile forming despite it. “There hasn’t been a customer complaint in ages. Well, no harassment charges at least—”

“Hah,” Tatsumaki smirked as she leaned back against her chair. “You say it like that’s something to be proud of.”

“It is. I’m very proud of Saitama,” Fubuki argued matter-of-factly. Given his dear employee’s…reputation and his immunity to threats of harm to his health (no one wants a repeat of the Sonic Incident of ’13) and threats of Fubuki kicking his ass to the curb (damn that guy for crawling under her soft spot), it took nothing short of a miracle for the grievances to stop.

Well…a miracle…or a possessive boyfriend.

Fubuki wasn’t particularly picky. Anything to get his flirty employee making sweets rather than making sweet talk, right? Okay—granted, there was no stopping those godawful lines he spouted on a daily basis. But they were only aimed at that pesky boyfriend of his so that was far more welcome.

Her phone’s vibrations against the mahogany of the table derailed from her train of thoughts; she tapped on the screen upon the familiar stock photo of a boiled egg. ‘Ah…speak of the devil…’ she smirked. “In fact, let me tell him that right now.” She swiped to answer, holding the phone against her ear. “Hello?” It only took a second for her countenance to change as she stood abruptly, the chair behind her screeching against the hardwood. “Saitama?!”

Glowering green eyes narrowed. “What’s going on with Baldy?” her sister demanded.

Tatsumaki didn’t like this. Her younger sister looked panicked, eyes wide and mouth agape as she tried to form her words as incoherent noises blared from her phone. Tatsumaki glared, reaching out for her own mobile, fingers readying to dial a particular contact.

She didn’t like this at all. “I don’t—Saitama, wh— are you crying?”

“Crying?!” The elder slammed down her fist, shooting up from her seat in outrage. “That piece of shit, he better not have made—”

But then Fubuki froze, blinking once, then twice, before uttering, “Y-you…you what?” Tatsumaki cocked her head to the side in confusion as her little sister sat back down, nodding and humming in agreement at a conversation the elder was not privy to. A second or three later, Fubuki’s hand came up to conceal the huge smile that broke across her face.

God this was humiliating.

So humiliating.

So very humiliating because he had to burst into fucking tears before he could even tell her what happened. But apparently, his stupid (so very stupid) brain decided that first and foremost, he should announce two very important revelations he had today:

Revelation number one: “I love Genos…” he sobbed pathetically.

Which…honestly should not have been a revelation made mere hours ago. Which leads us to—

Revelation number two: “And I’m an idiot…” he groused reluctantly.

God this sucked. Oh well, he had a broad shoulder to cry into and a pair of hands soothing his back despite it all, even if there was a rumble of laughter (naturally, at his expense) in the chest he was leaning against.

He supposed the degradation was worth it.

Saitama nearly gave her a heart attack and while Fubuki should have been ready to bust down his door and flog him with a spatula for it… “Well…it certainly took you long enough.” She couldn’t help the enthusiasm that blatantly refused to go away. “Idiot,” she teased mercilessly, cackling as it drew a long-suffering groan from her favorite employee.

“Long enough for what?!” Tatsumaki shrieked, eyes screaming murder.

Fubuki gave an exasperated sighed, if only to mask her giddiness. “Saitama finally figured out that he’s in love with his boyfriend of three years.”

The elder’s expression flattened immediately. “Oh…Well for fuck’s sake, finally.” Still, the slight curve of her lips upwards didn’t escape her sister’s eyes, nor the relief in her posture as she settled down on her seat. Fubuki did, however, miss the quiet grumble of, “So my shithead of a student finally had the balls to do it…”

“Damnit Saitama… we were worried, you ass! After I heard you crying, your body count would have increased by two tonight if—yes, you have a body count— no, I don’t mean Sonic’s balls.” Against herself, she couldn’t stifle the laugh that bubbled. ‘Genos better be treating you right…’ she thought. Their bakery couldn’t stand to have Saitama lapse back into his bad habits. “God, I thought that boyfriend of yours did something stupid to make you cry—”

“Rest assured, Fubuki,” Genos murmured as he plucked the phone from his Saitama’s hold. “I would never do such a thing,” he (needlessly) vowed. Really, given his track-record, you’d figure they’d have more faith in him.

“You did do something stupid to make me cry like an idiot though…” Saitama muttered, face buried in his neck.

Genos gave a wry smirk, recalling the absolute devastation and terror that flooded his veins at his darling’s initial reaction that night. He had never seen Saitama give such a volatile response so it was only natural for his heart to come crashing down at the sight of his love’s face streaked with tears, angrily muttering to himself of how blind and stupid he was.

And it was only natural for Genos to believe he had ruined his chances.

(If he had any to begin with.)

But at the sight of what his darling cradled in the palm of his hand and the scaredexcitedloving look in those beautiful brown eyes, it didn’t take long for Genos to collect the man in his arms and murmur worship and adoration against him, dinner all but forgotten as he carried them to the couch to give his Saitama the time he needed to come to terms with all that happened without his knowing and for Genos to soothe him through the process. And after that was finished…

Genos was able to ask him again—properly.

Of course, there was a sobbing ‘Yes,’ and they ended up cuddling and kissing like a bunch of embarrassing and lovesick fools. Not one for the storybooks, but that was fine by Genos. “Not intentionally, darling,” Genos murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of his love’s head. He felt the man sigh against him, relaxed, comfortable, blissful. And that was everything he needed. “And it’s not stupid. I’ve never been more sure…and more determined in my life.” His fiancé turned his head, gracing Genos with that sweet, sweet blush blooming across his cheeks.

Genos had never felt so lucky.

He kissed him soundly on the lips, breathing an, “I love you, Saitama,” before stealing another and another.

Fubuki frowned as Genos’s voice tapered off followed by some suspicious sounds that had her eyes narrowing. “What’s with all the—are you two seriously making out right now?!”

“Bah. Disgusting.” Tatsumaki wrinkled her nose. “Baldy’s okay and my pain-in-the-ass economics student didn’t screw anything up. Leave them,” she commanded with a wave of her hand.

Not one to argue for this one, Fubuki ended the call. “I swear to god,” she murmured as she put her phone down. Fubuki frowned at her dinner; it was probably cold by now. “I didn’t take Saitama to be the type of guy to cry over that sort of thing,” she commented as she rose to heat up the rest of her pasta. “I mean…it was awfully obvious since the beginning, wasn’t it?”

The college student stopped by nearly every day to chat up their finest baker, their incessant flirting being a good source of laughs and coos from their customers (and the annoyance and groaning from the rest of the staff). Genos played Saitama’s game and played it well—

Well enough score a sugary kiss from the man across the counter every time. And more often than not in the afterhours, Fubuki would spy a shiny luxury car waiting at the front as Saitama dashed out the door as Sonic yelled after him about “owing him one” as the disgruntled brunet closed up shop on Saitama’s shift.

And of course—she’d seen the looks Genos gives him and the warm and shy glances Saitama sometimes catches himself making at the blond before shaking it off. She’d sometimes find him on lazy afternoons, spacing out with a tiny smile on his face and his grins would always be megawatts brighter when his boyfriend came walking through the door.

And, mind you, this had been going on for years.

Had it really taken Saitama this long? It was jarring to believe.

But as always, Tatsumaki had the utmost faith in their mutual friend. “I think he just cried from his own stupidity,” she decided. She picked up her fork with distaste, dinner lukewarm. “If I were that stupid, I’d cry too.”

“We didn’t get to tell them…” Saitama murmured against Genos’s lips as the call ended.

Genos laid the phone down on the coffee table nearby, both hands finally free to hold Saitama close. “That’s fine.”

The man hummed, emotionally exhausted but so very warm and definitely up for some more primo cuddling right now. “Too early?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t too heavy to be leaning against the younger like this.

It seemed as though Genos wasn’t complaining at least. “No, it’s not that,” he replied, shifting in his seat until he had them both laying down, his own head propped on the armrest of the sofa while Saitama’s rested on his chest. “I just want you to myself for a while,” he shamelessly confessed.

Saitama’s lips quirked to a smile. “Before Fubuki overhears and takes over the planning?”

“She’ll have to fight me for it,” Genos growled and Saitama sighed. It was obvious who’d be the groomzilla for this event. “But not just that,” he amended, hands already beginning to wander.

Saitama snorted. Genos might not be a teenager anymore but man, tell that to his hormones. Though, Doctor Kuseno did tell him that Genos had never been this…erm…interested with a date before, even in his teenage years—much to Genos’s mortification.

The little shit earned it, as far as Saitama was concerned. His body was willing but his ass was still sore from that afternoon. He’d need a little more convincing before getting on his back for his fiancé and he knew exactly how to get some. “Wow…I’m officially off the market—or should I say, menu?” he teased.

“Little minx…” Genos purred, taking the hint. “I thought you weren’t on it to begin with.”

“Well,” Saitama snickered, propping his head up to meet Genos’s gaze, “I mean, forbidden fruit gets more biters, right?”

Those gold eyes had that familiar burning intensity in them as a hand came to brush on the sensitive skin of his neck. “And the last time I checked, these bite marks happen to be mine.”

“Y’see?” Saitama boasted. “Can’t keep your mitts off me, can you?”

“From these buns?” Genos smirked as Saitama squawked in surprise at the rough squeeze. “Not a chance.”

Saitama was totally not at fault for bursting into laughter for that one. “Oh my god that was fucking awful—Ack—!” And of course, Genos was totally not at fault for flipping them over, crawling over his darling with a hungry gleam in his eyes. Saitama chose to ignore the skip in his heartbeat and the flood of arousal that headed south of his beltline. “Just stick a fork in me. I’m done with this perverted banter.”

He was, however, very much at fault for the lewd line and lusty look that followed. “I’d much rather stick something else in you—”

Saitama should have known he’d set himself up for that one. “Noooo, did you seriously get better at this than me?” he whined, Genos chuckling as he dipped down and pecked him on the cheek. “When did you start scheming to usurp my throne?” the baker demanded, trying not to flush too much from the affectionate gesture.

Genos hummed, thinking honestly for his response. “When I learned I had to flirt with you to get you to talk to me.” He smirked, a kiss brushing against his fiancé’s coy lips. “And when I learned how well you responded to it.”

“Responded well, did I?” Saitama challenged with a raised brow.

Genos couldn’t stop himself from scoffing even if he wanted to. “Darling, I had a date with you the next day.” Saitama glared at him weakly from below and with such a cutely, petulant look, what else could Genos do but grin a tad too widely and finish with: “And woke up to you in my bed the morning after that.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t sound so smug,” Saitama groused, turning his head away; he hoped in the semi-darkness of the candlelight, his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. Even after three years, that still was not the proudest moment of Saitama’s life. Nevertheless, it did score him Genos—and a friend in Mumen and Bang.

Genos chuckled once more, eyes softening at the sight before him. “How can I not?” He smiled adoringly, reaching out for Saitama’s left hand to hold; the ring on his finger brushed against his lips in a delicate kiss. “You said yes, after all.”

Even under the dim firelight, he could still relish the cherry red that erupted all over his beautiful fiancé’s face. “God, you’re such a sap,” Saitama muttered. And then his eyes were on Genos, a tender hopelessness in them, a blissful surrender, a loving acceptance that this was the sap he had agreed his life to. Obviously, he wouldn’t want it any other way. “But you’re sweet to me,” Saitama sighed, voice barely above a whisper. “I dunno how many kittens and orphans I saved in the past life, ‘cause I sure as hell don’t know what I did in this one to deserve you.”

Something ached within him—something that delved deeper than his heart and settled in depths deeper than his soul. Genos had only this to say as that profound yearning resonated through his entire being: “I’m offended.”

Saitama found himself sputtering in indignation before Genos was kissing him again, long, slow, and perfect.  

When Genos broke for air, he resisted all temptation to stealing another kiss and stealing the breath out of his fiancé’s lungs a second time. “I thought I was the romantic one, darling. Are you usurping me in return?”

Saitama grinned sheepishly in reply. “I gotta try sometime, don’t I?” ‘Genos’d been waiting for three years after all…and that means I have a lot of making up to do,’ he thought with some amount of guilt. A part of him always knew Genos wasn’t merely fooling around with him, had known that Genos wasn’t the type to play games unless it was for keeps. But Saitama, in many ways, wasn’t ready to believe it yet. Wasn’t ready to submit his heart to its possible ruin, all because of a five-minute encounter that left him with a name, a number, and a man who was interested in much more than a flirtationship.

He wasn’t ready until he found the box from Genos’s blazer, having tumbled onto the floor as the man shrugged it off and placed the outerwear onto a chair as he checked on their dinner in the kitchen. Hadn’t been ready until he found himself on the floor, shaky hands snapping the velvet box open and heart in his throat at the sight of a gleaming ring inside. Hadn’t been ready to realize that somewhere in his denial, he had fallen in love anyways and had been too stubborn to let himself feel it, bask in it, and give it freely.

Saitama didn’t do ‘genuine’ well—or often, for that matter. But if it was for Genos…then it was definitely worth a try. But this time was kind of…easy, actually. All he needed to do was put a little bit of his heart into his words, something that went beyond the saccharine gloss of flirty seduction and sugary affection. It was a surprise to find it tasting like honey on his tongue, natural and addicting.

He led the hand entwined with his own to his cheek, nuzzling the back of Genos’s palm with triumphant eyes at the sight of his fiancé on the brink of heart failure from romantic overload. “Sweets…for my sweet.”

A/N: And there we have it~

Haha…remember when I said this would be up very shortly? Well…here’s shortly :’D

Again, I am so sorry OTL

Something sugary because I had a lot of sugar the day before when I was writing this. Also I really felt the need to have this fic end by its title c:

I hope it’s pretty self-explanatory, but if you guys are interested in their backstories (how Saitama lost his hair, joined Fubuki’s bakery, and started flirting with customers; Genos’s backstory, how Genos stalked Saitama and what he stole from him [as Sonic mentioned] in ch.3) and how their years prior to engagement went, let me know!

I truly loved writing this story (because it’s not every day I get to use puns this excessively) and I hope you all enjoyed~ As always,