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A/N: Soooo, on the discord we were talking about accidental arousal in a tiny hiding place, leading to dry-humping. And lo and behold, one hour later: POOF here is the fic. Enjoy!
The hallway they turned down was deserted. It shouldn’t be – the mansion was full of people. There were footsteps on the stairs and they were hurrying.
“Shit.” Stone grabbed him, yanked the nearest door open and bodily shoved him in. Dove after him and pulled the door closed.
They were in-… a closet. Some kind of coat closet, full of stuff, hot and mothball-smelling. There wasn’t enough room; he was crushed against it all with Stone pressed full-body up against him.
And covering his mouth with a cool, hard hand. “Sh,” Stone breathed – not even a whisper, just a tiny hiss in his ear.
He tried to nod yes, that he understood. Tossed his head a little to ask to be let go.
Stone still didn’t budge, so he squirmed harder. Finally the grip loosened a little bit. “Sh,” again.
They both stayed frozen. Listening.
“Shit!” someone muttered in the hallway. “They’re not here – I told you they took the back staircase!”
“They didn’t. Definitely didn’t. They’re still up on the third floor, or they, they took the stupid dumbwaiter or something, I told you…”
“They did not take the dumbwaiter. Jesus fucking Christ.”
The voices got quieter.
“I left the balcony doors open and tossed couch cushions down into the bushes,” Stone breathed. “Once they see that they should run off after us through the back gardens.” A light, airy sigh. “We are never coming to the residence again.”
“He had what I needed. It was a good risk.”
“It was a risk we are not taking ever again.” Stone’s turn to shift, as if looking for comfort where of course there was none, whatsoever, to be found. “Just shush.”
Robotnik growled. Readjusted so that his knee would stop bumping against his agent’s. The better position seemed to be walk his foot out a little so that their legs would lace together.
He felt a twinge.
So, on reflection, this was not a better position. Sandwiched thigh to thigh and crotch to crotch was definitely not a good position, not when-…
Oh no. More than a twinge now, it was heavy, warm, filling with blood despite his every scrap of will ordering it not to.
Stone moved again – just a hair – but with his new sensitivity that was too much and he gasped out loud.
“Shh.” Stone’s mouth tickled his ear when he talked. Light tickling with firm crotch pressure, here in the dark, and Stone smelled good and it was impossible to pretend otherwise. That stupid sunny smile of his too, of course, it was only natural that he should respond, it wasn’t his fault that-.
-That his agent was attractive. That he had desire for his own fucking agent, urgent carnal desire, and did he have to discover this now of all times? Now when he couldn’t so much as breathe without pressing them even tighter together, when every millimeter he wriggled only served to rub his greedy, traitorous erection against the warm firm body of his awful, sweet, stupid agent, who was clearly to blame for trapping them in here together.
Stone made one more attempt to disengage gracefully, to shift his hips a little so they wouldn’t be slotted quite so neatly together, but all that did was rub even worse, and he hissed out loud.
Stone froze.
There went any plausible deniability. “This is mortifying,” he snarled in a whisper. “How about I just open the door and get us shot?”
Stone surged against him suddenly, crushing him hard against the mothball softness behind him. (Pressing square and perfect exactly where Robotnik did not want it. And did.). “No,” Stone breathed. “Sh. I’m getting us home.”
“I can’t-. Take this.” The immobility together with the delicious pressure was impossible. His hips pulsed on their own.
“Sh,” Stone repeated. “You do whatever you want, just be quiet.” So quiet himself that Robotnik wondered if he could have imagined it.
His hips chose that moment to spasm, an honest-to-god thrust. Stone moved with it. “Sh,” Stone breathed again. “That’s fine.”
Fine? It wasn’t fine, it was disgusting. “Disgusting,” he hissed – as he did it again. He was disgusting, in here rutting mindlessly like an animal, but even feeling fully disgusting he could not stop because the pressure when he did it was so perfect.
“Sh.” Stone slid a hand down his hip and held it, guided it, used it as leverage for hip-thrusts of his own. Tiny of course, all of it tiny slow movements, just grinding into one another.
“Disgusting,” he breathed again, after far too long. “Who would-…”
“Shhhhh.” Stone’s free hand came up, and Robotnik broke out in goosebumps all over when the back of his neck was grabbed. His mouth was pressed hard into the top of Stone’s shoulder, stifling all noise.
So he turned his head a little and bit.
Stone’s turn to gasp.
His turn to say, severely: “Shh.” Still grinding. How awful. He brought his own hand down to mirror Stone’s hip-grip and starting pulling, pulling them tighter together and rubbing all the harder. “Are you trying to get us killed?”
Stone breathed into his ear: “No. I don’t want to die with cum stains on my clothes.”
Cum stains. He had never heard anything so disgusting in his life. “What?” he breathed back – quietly, as quietly as humanly possible, so he didn’t distract the man into shushing again.
“I apologize, sir, but my dick is leaking.”
Robotnik couldn’t breathe. He had never. Never.
“I would guess yours is too. Or will be soon. It feels like-…” A hard, long press. “…You’re actually getting close to cumming, aren’t you.”
Oh god. He tried not to let his breathing become audible.
“You’re going to have to just jizz in your pants, Doctor. If there was a little more room here I could get down and take it in my mouth, but-”
“Ah-!” That did it – the words or the image or the rubbing or something, something, but his hips stuttered and he lost all ability to exercise control over the overwhelming tension and even more overwhelming release.
“Shh-hh-hh-hh,” Stone whispered for the umpteenth time, but this time it was uneven and jerky and Robotnik knew he was laughing.
Before he could feel sick with the humiliation of being laughed at for something as base and pathetic as what he’d just done, Stone’s hand on his neck began to tighten and release, rhythmically.
A neckrub – a friendly gesture. “There,” Stone breathed. “Feel better?”
He let his breath out slowly and let himself enjoy the touch a moment while he came back together. When he finally could, he tossed his head to get rid of it and snarled – very quietly: “For the moment. But I don’t want to die with stains on my clothes either.”
“I apologize, Doctor. Entirely my fault. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you sometime.”
“Shh!” Luckily it was dark, so no one could see him blush.
The End!
Let me know what you thought of this silliness :-)