The Princess Bride is not a bad movie. It’s also not just a good movie. It’s actually a masterpiece of a movie.
At least, it is according to one Genji Shimada.
Not that Lucio’s got a whole lotta experience when it comes to old movies, but he’s never met anyone as obsessed with them as Genji is. For a guy who’s spent the last however many years at an off-the-grid Monastery, he’s got a surprisingly deep pool of pre-millennium movie knowledge. For instance: Lucio can personally attest that Genji can quote every line from Gone with the Wind. That he says aloud “I love this part” at the start of every scene of Seven Samurai. That he knows every dance move to every single musical number in West Side Story.
Once, Lucio even got Genji to admit that the entire reason he bought a motorcycle in his twenties was because he watched Mad Max and quote “wanted to be that kind of badass” unquote.
Lucio himself? Not so much of a movie buff. Music’s always been Lucio’s bread and butter. And while there’s something to be said for certain movie soundtracks, sitting still for two and a half hours isn’t something Lucio would typically pick when the other options include a neighborly game of street hockey or mixing up a new sound for his next track. And yet…
And yet this is the third night this week that Lucio’s agreed to a movie night. Weirder still, he’s actually enjoyed all three of them (and all the ones that came before, too). Though if he’s being real, and he usually is, he knows it’s not the whimsical ensemble or the witty one-liners that are doing it for him tonight. Genji might be on to something when he says The Princess Bride is a masterpiece, and he might not be, but Lucio wouldn’t know because he’s spent the entirety of the movie watching Genji instead.
He knows movie nights are a guilty pleasure because of how he feels about the company he gets to keep. If he’s lucky, Genji will fling an arm haphazardly across the back of the rec room couch so when Lucio leans back, Genji’s wrist is cool and smooth against the back of his neck. If Lucio’s really lucky, when a particularly funny scene comes along, Genji will laugh into his shoulder, and Lucio will get to feel Genji’s breath against his skin, will get to store the accidental brush of Genji’s lips against his collarbone for later, when he can cut and paste it into a steamier context.
Man, you’ve got it ba-a-ad, Lucio thinks. He sighs to himself, thinking Genji will be too preoccupied with the movie to notice.
Apparently, Genji wasn’t quite so preoccupied after all.
“Are you alright? You see lost in thought.” Genji says. His voice is different without the visor. There’s still the coolness of the synthesizer he has built into his vocal chords, but the sound isn’t quite so metallic with the mask off. Lucio feels like the room’s suddenly gone up a degree or two in temperature just from the sound of it, even though he knows it hasn’t.
Lucio glances at the object of his feelings, frowning at the concern he finds in Genji’s expression. Even with the the only light in the room coming from the movie screen, Genji still somehow looks better (read: the best ever) every time Lucio gets a glimpse of him.
“I’m good. Just a long day, you know?” he tries, but the excuse sounds lame even to Lucio’s ears.
Genji pulls his arm from the back of the couch, which really only makes Lucio’s frown deepen, to swipe a finger across the screen and pause the movie. He gives Lucio a serious look.
“Lucio.” he says, “I enjoy spending time with you… very much so. But I don’t wish for you to feel obligated to do so. I know I have been asking for your company quite a lot, lately.” It shouldn’t be so attractive, the way Genji worries. He gets these little lines around his mouth. And his frown is almost like an upside-down smirk. Too cute.
Lucio grins a little lopsidedly, “You trying to get rid of me?” he teases, and he almost gets away with the deflection, judging by the way Genji’s eyebrow raises in that way he does when he isn’t sure if Lucio’s flirting with him. Then Genji catches on to the rouse and chuckles, shaking his head.
“You are not getting off that easily.” he says.
“Worth a try.” Lucio says with a shrug, “But look, man, I really am good. Just got a lot on my mind. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna be.”
Genji nods, slowly. Absorbing the information, deciding how far he wanted to press.
“Is there anything you want to talk about?” Genji asks finally, and Lucio’s almost relieved, because he knows that a quick no thank you let’s play the movie again will end the conversation and move them along to safer topics.
Despite himself, Lucio catches himself thinking: Yeah, sure. Could we start with the fact that I’m in love with you?
It takes a beat or two of awkward, deafening silence, and the completely dumbfounded expression on Genji’s face, for Lucio to realize that he didn’t actually think those words. He said them out loud.
“Did I really just blurt that out?” Lucio groans, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. When it looks like Genji is about to say something, Lucio shakes his head, beating him to the chase, “Nope, no way, don’t answer that. Totally rhetorical.” He takes a deep breath.
“Look, Genji. I also enjoy spending time with you, if that wasn’t already obvious. Being around you makes me feel like I’m on top of the world. And I’m not about to be that guy and try to take back my accidental confession, but I am seriouslyhoping this isn’t going to get in betwee—”
“I feel the same way.”
He’s seen that look in Genji’s eyes before, it’s been pointed in his direction more than a few times. Genji’s looking at him like he does when he names the song at the end of the movie. Like he did the time he quoted one of the movies they’ve seen together over communal breakfast. That time they crossed paths in the hallway when Lucio was shirtless and sweaty after a gym session. Or the other day, when he wrestled the bowl of popcorn out of Genji’s outstretched arm and almost ended up straddling his lap.
“So, when you say you feel the same, you’re saying… You love me too?”
“If your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.” Genji laughs, when he caches Lucio’s stunned expression. “It is a quote from the movie. But yes, Lucio. I love you too.”
Is this real life?
Genji’s smirking that way he does when he knows he’s right. And right now? Lucio doesn’t have it in him to be a sore loser.
“Wow.” It’s the only thing he can think to say. Genji loves me back. It’s like a dream. Maybe he isdreaming. Maybe he’s gotta be, for something this good, this right, to happen.
Genji says something Lucio doesn’t catch, and he whips his head around to find that Genji’s moved in closer, rested his hand on the couch cushion next to Lucio’s thigh. That he’s watching him in a way that Lucio knows pretty much exactly what he’s waiting for.
“What was that?” Lucio asks, swallowing hard. He seems Genji’s eyes dart to Lucio’s mouth, and thinks he can guess what it was Genji said.
“Does this mean I can kiss you now?” Genji repeats.
“Oh, yeah.” Lucio says. Then, with a goofy grin, adds: “As you wish.”
The two end up laughing so hard (with Genji pressed into Lucio’s shoulder, one of his Top Three Favorite Things Ever) that it takes them a minute to get around to the whole first kiss part of the deal.
But that hardly feels like it matters when he’s cozied up on the couch with the man who loves him back.