A little bit of werewolf Genos fluff for @rayadraws! Happy Birthday!
It was the cold snap that did it.
Genos was still comfortable enough living on the edge of the woods. He had a waterproof tent for keeping his things in, and this area had too many monsters for the forest service to come by. Luckily monsters let other monsters be, for the most part, so Genos had never been bothered.
It was close enough that he didn't have trouble coming to see Saitama everyday, yet he wasn't intruding on his territory. Genos could never ask Saitama if he could live near him, he would have to be invited, and he knew that was unlikely. Despite Saitama's slow acceptance of his presence, he valued his privacy.
But Genos could see his concern, smell the faint spike of fear when he looked at Genos shivering on his doorstep. He probably looked worse than he felt. It was damp enough and cold enough that there might be frost on his fur, and he couldn't stop shivering.
Saitama stepped back from the doorway to let Genos in, though Genos shook off one last time before he crossed the threshold.
“I am sorry,” he said after he shifted, teeth still chattering. “I think there was a cold snap last night, I-”
“Here, hang on.”
Genos expected to be handed clothes, but instead Saitama's comforter was dropped on top of him. Genos clutched it close around his shoulders and allowed Saitama to hustle him into the living area.
“I didn't know you were sleeping outside! There's so many empty buildings around here, I figured you were nearby.”
“I have a tent,” he said, though he accepted a second blanket. “Thank you, Saitama-sama.”
“I'll make tea.” Saitama stifled a yawn. “What time is it?”
“I do not know. Not long after dawn.”
“Eh. I'll make tea anyway.”
Genos settled down into the blankets and let his fingers thaw. Fingers were better than toes, at least. Maybe he should cave and buy some boots for his paws. Saitama had said he thought Genos lived in an abandoned building, maybe he could move closer? It wouldn't be...
When he opened his eyes the light had changed. Saitama was dressed, reading a comic across the room, and he didn't look up at Genos until he sneezed.
“You're up.”
“I fell asleep?”
“Yeah, for a couple hours. But it was early, so...”
Genos started to get up, but the blankets slipped away and reminded him he was still naked. “I'm sorry Saitama-sama! I broke the rule! I'm taking advantage of your-”
“Relax, dude, come on. I mean yeah put on some pants if you're up, but it's fine. You were cold.”
“Yes,” Genos admitted, retrieving his sweat pants from their usual hanger.
“You have a tent, you said? So you're out in the woods?”
“Yes.” Genos hopped into the pants and sneezed again. Hopefully it was just a buildup of mucus from the chill. He hadn't caught a cold since he was bitten, and he wasn't sure he could, but he didn't want to find out like this.
“Why don't you just move in? You're here every day anyway.”
“Saita-” Genos tripped over the pantleg, caught on his toes, and in a flash Saitama was across the room to catch him. “Th- thank you.”
“Y'okay? You're not usually this clumsy. You really must have been frozen.”
“I- I'm okay.” Genos carefully composed himself into seiza. “Saitama-sama, you'd allow me to live here? With you?”
“Sure, it's fine. Might as well, right?”
Genos bowed low. “Thank you so much!”
“Oh come on, don't- Okay okay, you're welcome get up.” Saitama was flushed red. Was it cold in here too? “I'll heat up the tea if you make breakfast, okay?”
“Okay, Saitama-sama!”
At this rate, maybe soon Saitama would let Genos call him Master.
Oooh! ”That’s rough, buddy” (or anything from that prompt) with Sai and Genos? <3
Saitama found the dog injured in the woods, on a trip home from scavenging. He’d gotten a lot, actually, justifying it for himself that the boars attacked first. If they were after him they might actually be a danger to others!
He ended up frying some of the meat over a campfire right away - it had taken a long time and he was starving - so he wasn’t surprised when he found a dog. Pocket bacon. Gets ‘em every time.
“Hey buddy,” Saitama greeted the thing, holding out his package of meat. “Whoa, look at you.”
It was big, shaggy with matted fur, and a lean snout and bright yellow eyes. It didn’t look like a wolf, too leggy, but Saitama could tell it was dangerous. At least, it would be dangerous to anybody else.
He lobbed the meat so that it landed at the dog’s feet, said, “There you go!” and kept walking.
Behind him, he heard the sounds of fabric tearing and something being messily devoured. He was a good distance away when he heard pained whimpers and something like bones cracking, and he turned around mostly out of curiosity.
Where the dog had stood, crouched over the now-empty package of meat, was a thin young man. Dirty, injured, and staring at Saitama with bright yellow eyes.
“Thank you,” the young man croaked, in a voice unused to talking.
“Yep,” Saitama said.
“I was afraid I would die before I regained enough energy to shift.”
Saitama considered possible responses and settled on, “That’s rough, buddy.”
“May I repay you?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Then…” The young man tried to stand, only to collapse on the leg still covered in dried blood. When Saitama automatically went back to help him, he saw the injuries had started to bleed all over again.
“Ah, geez, that’s no good. C'mon, I’ll help you to a doctor.”
The young man’s eyes turned warm, like honey. “You are so noble.”
“What am I gonna do, leave you to bleed to death?” The young man put his arm around Saitama’s shoulders, and Saitama noticed that he smelled as bad as he looked. “Or get infected?”
“I will have to repay you,” he said as they started walking.
Some werewolf Genos for @rayadraws! From Genos’ pov this time, and with some backstory.
rating: g
words: 2438
Genos didn't like to think about his past. The year after he lost his family was nearly as blurry as the lifetime before it; a jumble of foster homes and new schools and therapists and social workers. He might never get his memories back, they told him. Not all the way.
Genos was okay with that.
Then, a little over a year since it happened, he'd run away. He wasn't sure why any more. It had seemed like the reasonable thing to do at the time, like his latest home was inferior to a life as a homeless teenager. If he was being honest with himself, Genos was fairly sure he'd been wrong about that. The house mother had never raised a hand to him, never required an unreasonable amount of housework, never forbidden something he really wanted to do. But he was young and he was angry and for some reason he disagreed with her that day. So he ran.
He didn't remember the attack. Trauma, once again. Afterward he was nursed back to health with a lot of apologies by the man who bit him - who expressed dismay when he healed so well and so quickly - and slowly introduced to the rest of the "pack."
They welcomed him. When Genos said he didn't want to go back, they didn't question it.
He had a home again. A real one, with people that cared about him and were happy to see him. For three years Genos was part of a pack. A family.
But the family grew, as is the nature of these things, and their territory in the mountains was no longer big enough for everyone. The alphas, after research and a few called-in favors, decided to move to an area on the other side of the country. Far far away from the ruins of the town Genos was born in.
He couldn't remember it very well. But he couldn't bring himself to leave it.
So for the last few months he'd been alone. Hunting, foraging, taking shelter where he could. It had been fine, he was good at it, until he ran afoul of a bear and barely escaped with all four limbs.
Then he met Saitama.
And now Genos sat, in what he thought of as his alpha's den, politely waiting for instructions.
"Uh..." Saitama looked down at Genos, from where he was untangling the blinds. "So here you are again."
"Yes, Saitama-san." It had not been easy to train himself out of using a more respectful term of address. Genos thought he was doing rather well.
"And you brought me..."
"A pheasant, Saitama-san. I would have brought more but you have a very small freezer."
"Mm-hmm." Saitama considered the bird thoughtfully. "I told you that I can hunt for myself, didn't I?"
"It's a gift, Saitama-san!"
"Okay... I guess we're having poultry for dinner."
Genos perked up. If he had a tail at the moment it would be wagging.
His new alpha was so generous to always share meals with him. Genos knew, logically, that Saitama probably didn't think of it that way... but he still didn't have to do it. He could have taken the bird and kicked Genos out. He could have put onions in the hotpot, despite how much they upset Genos' system. He could have left Genos alone in the woods to deal with his injury on his own...
If Saitama had noticed that Genos preferred borrowing unwashed shirts, he didn't say so. There was a pair of gray sweatpants that had been designated as Genos' Visiting Pants, and they were laundered and hung up to dry, along with Saitama's hero costume, every single night. It wasn't quite as good as if Saitama had worn them, but smelling of the same soap was a more human way of marking.
So, in sweatpants and a t-shirt with a mouse on it, Genos went out into the city with Saitama to buy some fresh vegetables.
There were a lot of people in cities. A lot of smells. Genos grew up in a small town, and then an even smaller commune in the forest. He had been to cites before, he was sure, but it was different now.
Genos did not have any illusions about his place in the pack. It was a pack of two, for one thing, and Saitama had been very firm that he was not sexually interested in Genos. But Saitama was comfortable with the amount of territory he had - no, no, humans didn't think like that, Genos reminded himself - Saitama was comfortable with the masses of people he had to share space with when they were shopping. So, as a subordinate it was not Genos' place to decide if someone was getting too close, or being disrespectful.
It was not easy to stay in control on days like this. Not easy to stay on two feet.
They got through shopping. It wasn't a sale day, which helped, though Saitama had gone slightly farther than usual because he had coupons. Now they were in a neighborhood deep in the city; old buildings and narrow alleys. Saitama looked longingly at a fat cat laying on top of a wall. He edged closer to it, and the cat stood up and hopped down the other side.
Saitama sighed. Genos resisted the urge to shift just so he could be a fuzzy creature to pet.
"Okay," Saitama said, half to himself. "We got carrots and cabbage, and uh..."
"Lotus root and some mushrooms."
Saitama nodded. "And tofu. That should be plenty!"
"Yes, Saitama-san," Genos agreed, though he knew himself and he knew his appetite. It wouldn't be plenty, but it would be enough.
A couple more cats passed them by. Both had their tails ruffled out, and they gave both Saitama and Genos a wide berth.
Up ahead was a fishmonger, not one Genos had visited with Saitama before, already closed for the day. Genos liked fish. He'd never gotten the hang of catching them from the river with his mouth, but one of his old packmates was good at it, and she would-
Another cat ran past them. Odd. Wouldn't cats usually be running toward a fish shop, even a closed one?
A shaggy gray dog walked out of the alley on the far side of the fishmonger. Another dog, a bull terrier, was sitting outside the shop next door, obediently waiting for its human, and instead of barking or growling at the gray dog it stood up and started to wag hopefully.
The gray dog looked very wolfish, if a bit too tall and lanky. And, more importantly, it was carrying a garbage bag of fish guts in its mouth.
Genos found himself hunching over and growling in the back of his throat. Fish successfully covered up the smell of the other canine, but Genos already knew what he was looking at.
"Hey now," Saitama said. "Don't do that, it's okay. It's just a dog."
"No, Saitama-sama," Genos said, growling around the words. "He is in your territory."
“Dogs can be in my whatever! I don't care.”
The other werewolf was growling back, hunched over and fur bristling. Genos bared his teeth and snapped at him, but the gray werewolf didn't back down. The need to put all his limbs on the ground was almost overwhelming.
“Hey!” Saitama exclaimed. He clapped his hands. “No! Bad!”
Genos whimpered.
“You too!” He waved his grocery bag at the gray wolf. “Get on outta here! Go home, shoo!”
The gray wolf ignored him, eyes fixed on Genos.
“I'm serious! You can understand me, right? Well get going before I smack you!” Saitama pointed off into the distance. “Get!”
With a look that managed to be disdainful despite eyebrows or humanoid facial muscles, the wolf turned around and trotted off.
Genos heard Saitama sigh, but the blood was pounding in his ears and his skin was already beginning to prickle. He hurried past him, bumping Saitama with his shoulder, into the now-empty alley.
“Genos?”
It didn't hurt. Not exactly. It felt like stretching just a bit too far, just a little ways beyond comfort. But once it was over Genos felt... right. Proper. At ease.
Well, mostly. He'd managed to kick the sweatpants off but the t-shirt was still wrapped around his torso and too tight on the neck. He could tell his fur was sticking out at ridiculous angles.
“Genos,” Saitama said again, resignation in his voice. He reached out and gave Genos' head a pat, and Genos wagged his tail. “Well, let's get home.”
Genos followed him, obediently, and gave the bull terrier a comforting sniff as they passed. Dogs tended to see werewolves as humans in a strange shape, and this one was clearly used to humans as friendly companions and food-givers. Seeing two “humans” growling at each other had upset it.
“Mister, is that your dog?”
A young boy, small and round, was untying the terrier's leash. He had a bag with shopping, and he switched bag and leash to one hand as he reached out for Genos.
“He's wearing a shirt! My dog doesn't like clothes.”
“Genos doesn't either,” Saitama said, laughter in his voice. “But he puts up with it.”
“Can I pet him?”
Saitama looked at Genos, who wagged.
“Sure.”
The boy patted Genos' head a few times. He'd smelled clean, otherwise Genos wouldn't have allowed it.
“He's very pretty. What kind of dog is he?”
“Uh... wolfhound.”
“Cool!”
With a final pat and a cheerful wave, the boy left in the same direction the gray wolf had earlier. Saitama headed the same way, after giving Genos time to shake his fur out, and Genos sniffed along the ground as they walked.
The other wolf's trail only led another two blocks before turning off, the boy and the terrier layered on top of it. It was too much of a coincidence, they must be together. But if that werewolf was the boy's father or older brother... Genos couldn't take the fight to him.
That didn't mean he had to like it. He huffed and sighed all the way back to Saitama's apartment, Saitama chuckling at him now and then.
Only once they were inside and Genos had gotten his ears scratched did he managed to focus enough to shift back. He accepted his sweatpants (carried in Saitama's grocery bag), and tried to tug the t-shirt back into shape.
“What was all that about? Did you know that guy?” Saitama had washed his hands and was starting to cut things up for their dinner.
“No.”
“Then why were you picking a fight? Let him take fish guts if he wants.”
“I wasn't picking a fight! He started it!”
“You were the one who growled first.”
“He started it by being here!”
“Get the broth ready,” Saitama said, and Genos hopped to obey. “Is this a werewolf thing? You're territorial?”
“Yes. Sort of.”
“So you'll fight with any other werewolf you come across?”
“No!” Genos sighed over the creaking of the pipes. “Maybe. I think he was also a young male and that doesn't help.”
“Competition for girls, huh?”
“Y... yes.”
Saitama hummed for a moment. “Well. Don't.”
“I will try, Saitama-san.”
“I mean it. You don't have to worry anyway, there's only like a... a point zero zero one percent chance he's hotter than you.”
“Oh.” Genos felt his face getting warm. “Th- thank you. Saitama-san.”
“I mean that's just an objective fact. If there's some girl wolves around, it's super unlikely they'd pick him over you.”
“Thank you but that's not the problem, Saitama-san.”
“Is it not?”
Genos shook his head, though he hoped Saitama was watching his chopping. “It's territory, Saitama-san. The actual space. This city is yours, and he is not yours, so he is an interloper.”
“Mine?” Saitama said. “Like a million people live here! It's a big city!”
“But no other werewolves!”
“I'm not a werewolf.”
“But-” Genos shut his mouth firmly.
“What?”
He hadn't wanted to have to explain it. If Saitama knew how Genos thought of him, he might not like it. He might dislike it enough that he asked Genos to leave...
“I am... a werewolf,” Genos said. “And I... you are... my...” His hands were shaking. His skin was prickling. “Friend.”
“Oh,” Saitama said, as if it wasn't the scariest thing Genos had ever said, “so you're defending me?”
“Y- yes. Yes that's right.”
“Well it's sweet, but quit it.”
“I can't,” Genos muttered. “He's always going to feel like an intruder to me, unless he accepts you as his-” alpha “-friend.”
“Sounds good to me,” Saitama shrugged. “I don't have a lot of friends. Could use one more. If we see him again, I'll say hi.”
“If... if we see him again.” That wasn't quite an agreement, but it still hurt to say. The thought of another werewolf under Saitama made Genos feel sweaty and uncomfortable. If their pack expanded, Genos wouldn't be second-in-command by default. Someone else might take Saitama's attention. Someone else might become his...
His...
Genos shuddered. “I am sorry, Saitama-san, I need to step out and... and calm down. I'll be back in a moment.”
“Yeah? Okay. Go ahead and leave the door open.”
Genos stripped off his clothes and left them neatly piled up on the floor. After a quick check that Saitama was still occupied, Genos gave the day-old shirt a deep sniff.
The scent of his master. His alpha. His alone. That last one might not last, but... at least Genos could be a good subordinate. He would push down his feelings and never let Saitama know. There was no point. It would only make things worse.
As he padded down the hallway, Genos heard Saitama mutter to himself. He wasn't sure, but it sounded like-
“Stupid hot naked idiot.”
-which didn't make a lot of sense, but it wasn't any of Genos' business what Saitama was saying when he clearly thought Genos was out of earshot. If they did get more packmates, Genos would have to explain to him just how good their senses were.
A few laps around the block and Genos would be in control. And maybe, maybe soon, Saitama would allow Genos to live with him properly.
Saitama giving Genos his old clothes is basically saying "you belong here, this will make you Smell Right." Genos is extremely touched that Saitama accepted him as a pack member so soon.
It quickly becomes obvious that Genos likes Saitama's smell for OTHER reasons, but Saitama never notices.
Genos was grumpy about going to the pet supply store at first (he's a wolf! Not a lapdog!) but then he bought a whole basket of chewy things.
I can't decide if Genos should wear his collar loose, because wolf-neck is thicker? if he should always have it tight because Magic? Or if he should actually get one of those really chunky chain collars so it looks more like a necklace when he's human shaped.
A birthday fic for @criscura featuring werewolf Genos
Saitama had always sort of wanted a pet. He liked animals - especially cats - and he liked the idea of having something at home for company. But he knew himself, and he knew he couldn't really take care of a pet the way it deserved. He barely managed to keep his cactus alive.
The first day after he helped that... dog-guy to a doctor, Saitama had gone home to his dark apartment, and thought nothing more about it. There was lots of strange stuff in the world. A dude who was also a dog (or a dog who was also a dude?) was pretty low on Saitama's list of weirdest sights.
The day after that, Saitama came home to the dog waiting for him.
It was laying down at the bottom of the stairs, and as soon as it saw Saitama it stood and began to wag. Saitama wasn't entirely sure it was the same dog, at first. It had gotten a bath somewhere and the fur was now fluffy and gleaming. The injured leg was neatly bandaged, and the dog stood comfortably on all four paws.
But those bright yellow eyes looked familiar. And what were the odds of a completely different injured dog waiting at Saitama's building?
"Uh... hey."
The dog wagged harder and did a little happy padding of its front paws.
"Can't go human right now, huh?"
The dog made a "graf" sound that sounded affirmative.
"You can't just expect me to feed you every time you get too tired."
It whined, and lowered its head.
"Oh... come on in, I guess. Nobody else lives around here, but I still don't wanna be talking to dogs on the street."
The dog followed him, wagging away, and made an effort at wiping its paws on the mat. Once Saitama was in he dropped his gloves in the sink and went looking for leftovers.
"Here, cold soba okay?"
The dog wagged so hard its tail cast a breeze.
Saitama poured the noodles into a bowl and set it on the floor. He started scrubbing the blood off his hands, and it wasn't long before he heard the rather unpleasantly graphic sounds of physical transformation.
"Does that hurt?" Saitama asked as he turned to the dog-guy. "It sounds like it hurts."
"Not usually," the guy said. "It aggravates my injury, but normally it feels more like a long stretch."
He was naked, like before, sitting on Saitama's floor and unwrapping the bandage around his leg. It hadn't broken, but it was much too tight now on a human-sized thigh.
For some reason seeing him naked felt weirder today. Maybe because he wasn't covered in dirt and blood, maybe just because there wasn't anything bigger to worry about. When they got to the city Saitama had wrapped him in his cape, and the hospital had given him a gown and some underpants.
The underpants were gone now, Saitama noted.
"I've got bandages," Saitama said. "If you wanna change that."
"I heal very fast, Saitama-sama." Sure enough, with the bandage off Saitama could see some scabbing and yellow bruises, but the stitches were holding and the cuts looked far better than you would have expected after two days. "Unfortunately recovering used up most of my energy, and I wasn't able to scrounge much."
"A pretty dog like you? I'd think you'd be able to beg food at any restaurant backdoor in town."
The guy frowned. He was pretty in human shape too. His lips were pink and full, his hair was thick and soft, and he had a face like a pop star on a magazine cover. The frown made him look more like a sexy perfume ad.
Oh boy, that was not a road Saitama's thoughts should be traveling.
"There's rules about these things," the guy said.
"Waiters break rules all the time. Cooks, too, though I actually got fired from that job. So maybe not as much."
"I don't like to owe debts," the guy's voice was quiet.
Saitama finished washing up and started to take off his hero suit. "It's not a debt if it's a gift."
"I know you said that, Saitama-sama, but I want to repay you!"
Saitama glanced down as he stepped around him. "Oh yeah, I forgot you were saying that before. Look, I don't need anything. I get by. So don't worry about it."
"Once I'm healed, I can hunt for you!"
"I hunt fine by myself."
"I can protect you, defend your home." His voice faltered as he added, "At full health I am very strong."
"Yeah?" That was interesting. Saitama's hopes didn't get very high any more, but he couldn't quite stop that little surge. Maybe this time... Maybe... "I don't need protection, though. I'm pretty strong too."
"Then- then housekeeping? I am told I cook well."
"I cook fine."
"Cleaning?"
"You're a dog from the woods, what do you know about cleaning?"
He gave a little huff that half sounded like a growl. "I am a werewolf! And I wasn't born this way!"
Given his life up to now, Saitama was willing to accept werewolves existed without any further evidence. But there was one thing that bothered him.
"You really don't look like a wolf though. Aren't wolves like, supposed to be scary when you see them in person?"
"Am I not scary?" Saitama looked back and saw concern on the dog-guy's face. "I thought I was quite intimidating."
"Well... maybe just because you were hurt when I first saw you," Saitama said, throwing him a bone (ha!).
He nodded to himself, looked up, and then looked down just as quickly. Maybe it was a dog thing. Submission.
Saitama finished pinning up his hero suit to air, and went looking for fresh boxers.
"I can... offer sexual favors."
"What?!" Saitama dropped the mismatched socks he'd been digging through. "No! Are you crazy?"
The dog-guy blinked at him, and tilted his head to one side. "I apologize, I was simply trying to think of things I can do for you."
"Well not that! Not ever that!" As if Saitama was some kind of monster who'd take advantage of someone who felt indebted to him. "In fact, here."
Saitama found a pair of sweatpants in the drawer and tossed them across the room.
"New rule: this is a pants-wearing household."
"Yes, Saitama-sama."
While the dog-guy was occupied with that Saitama found some boxers and jeans for himself, and pulled on yesterday's t-shirt for good measure. Once they were both dressed Saitama remembered he was technically playing host right now, and headed back to the kitchen.
"I'll make tea. And you can stay for dinner but that's it, okay?"
"Okay, Saitama-sama!" he said eagerly. "Please allow me to help prepare dinner. It's the least I can-"
"No way," Saitama said. "You're a guest, and an invalid besides." And Saitama was gonna show him just how good a cook he was, so hopefully he'd give up on the payback thing.
Downtrodden, the guy said, "Yes, Saitama-sama."
"You gotta stop being so polite, dude. It makes me itch." Saitama started opening cupboards, painfully aware of how long it had been since he went shopping. "By the way, what was your name again?"
A soft whine, and then the dog-guy said, "My name is Genos, Saitama-sama."
"Genos," Saitama repeated. He was pretty sure he'd been introduced last time, but he either wasn't paying attention or he forgot it instantly. Or both. "Okay Genos. Can you eat grapes or are they poisonous for you like a regular dog?"
"I am a wolf, Saitama-sama!" Genos protested. And then added, sheepishly, "They are toxic for me, yes."
"No chocolate either then, huh?"
"No, Saitama-sama. Or caffeine, or alcohol, or onions or coconut or-"
"Okay," Saitama drummed his fingers on the fridge door. "New plan. How's your leg, can you walk a ways?"
"Yes, Saitama-sama!"
"Let's go shopping then. I've got flip-flops you can wear." Once again Saitama stepped around him into the living area. He picked up a shirt off the table, gave it a sniff, and tossed it to Genos. "There, that should do."
Genos stared at the shirt for a second, and then he too sniffed it before he pulled it over his head. Copying Saitama, he guessed. In a strangely serious tone, Genos said, "Thank you, Saitama-sama."
"Yeah yeah. Let's go figure out some food that won't kill you, huh?"
