For a long time, Genos hasn't known how to tell you that he wants, uh, well you. Normally, the cyborg would seek advice from Saitama, but to no avail - the darn hero seems to be as clueless as he is. Terrible baldies. At first, he wasn't too worried, but it started overflowing damnably. Genos can barely focus on training with Saitama, even though that's one of the few things that even moves him. When he lays his yellow head on a pillow, he can only daydream, imagining in a fantastical way the taste of your likely delicious lips. My God - what will it taste like? Genos just wants to know.

But he will, damn it! Ridiculously, Genos is complaining to you about some gears in his cyborg body - it's been a while, but it's all part of his evil plan to feel your soft mouth!! 'I really don't know what to look at,' he would commonly say, pacing around the house and repeatedly clapping his hands on his hips. Every once in a while, he would try to run his hand through his blond hair and toss it seductively upward, in an almost desperate attempt to seduce you - if the cover models of magazines, the shampoo commercial spokesmen do it, why can't he? He can!

"I was thinking," he murmured, rubbing the back of his ear. "Maybe your kisses will fix it!" Genos tossed that out so casually it seemed like a simple request - 'go to the store' or 'feed the cat,' perhaps. So mundane, but it seemed enticing. Watching your reaction, his choice couldn't be any other. Genos almost desperately pulled you by the hips, his dry lips crushing yours. It was almost erotic the way his hands roamed all over your body, like... longing. Or desire. Genos did this for a few minutes, but they felt like damn hours. Pulling away reluctantly for lack of air, the cyborg murmured, "I feel better."