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The Wachowski’s house is… nice. It is certainly domestic. There is a regular television surrounded by some gaming systems and DVD stacks across the room. More than a few photographs line the painted walls, depicting the different members of the household. He can see the dining room and kitchen from his position. They are eerily similar to the pictures in those home improvement magazines that were occasionally brought onto the ARK. Personally, he didn’t read too many of them, but Maria was excited about each one. Like the books they sometimes got, she would keep those magazines in a special area where no one— not even Abraham— could touch them.
Shadow sits on the couch. The leather is relatively comfortable against his fur and quills. It is slowly warming through the combined efforts of his body heat and the sun leaking in from the window behind him. He will have to peel himself off the leather when he wants to get up, but he finds that thought becoming more and more distant as he realizes how long he’s going to be sitting here.
Sonic sits right beside him. The azure hedgehog’s legs are almost pulled onto the cushion with him, so the fur of his knee is touching the fur on Shadow’s thigh. Sonic leans his shoulder against the back of the couch. His emerald eyes are entirely focused on Shadow. He speaks quickly and fluidly, moving his hands alongside each individual word. He is talking about a movie— or perhaps a series of them.
Shadow doesn’t care. At all. He isn’t familiar with movies in general, let alone whichever one Sonic is talking about. He doesn’t want to watch movies, either. They are a waste of time that could be better spent doing almost anything else. He also finds Sonic’s fast talking annoying. He can barely catch any of the words. He has to lean away constantly as Sonic’s hands accidentally get too close to hitting Shadow in the face. Another consequence of them being too close is how hot it is temperature-wise. Shadow is going to start sweating soon, and then he won’t be able to get off the couch without ripping it.
But every single time Shadow goes to change their positions or to silence Sonic, he finds himself incapable of doing so. He can’t when those bright green irises glitter in the sunlight. He can’t because Sonic’s smile stretches across his face so large that it causes wrinkles to appear around his eyes. He can’t because being this close to Sonic lets him smell the wildflowers and pine trees that have somehow merged to become one with Sonic’s soft quills. And he can’t when Sonic’s undivided attention is entirely on him.
Sure, Sonic is talking animatedly about nonsense, but Shadow knows for certain that Sonic isn’t thinking about anything other than this moment. Shadow, too, finds his other thoughts drifting away. He doesn’t care for the words at all, but he cares deeply for the speaker. He can handle the white noise, letting the words enter and leave his mind without paying them any mind. He can do that easily when Sonic’s happiness creates a twinkle in the corner of his eyes.
Shadow moves his arm to the back of the couch, getting even closer to that twinkle. Sonic laughs to himself at the movement, but he doesn’t pull away. He never does. Sonic will take every opportunity to get as close as Shadow will let him, and now is no different. Sonic fully pulls his legs onto the couch, settling his bent knees on top of Shadow’s thigh. He continues talking, but Shadow is pretty sure neither of them are aware of the words anymore.
So be it. As long as Sonic is smiling, Shadow supposes.
The first time Shadow can remember the two of them meeting was awkward because it wasn’t Sonic’s first time meeting him. Sonic knew who he was the moment they locked eyes. Shadow remembers how he was tackled. Sonic was trying for a hug, but Shadow thought he was attacking. Shadow threw Sonic to the ground. Sonic’s brothers, Knuckles and Tails, were quick to help their brother, and Rouge, Shadow’s GUN partner, explained to the three that Shadow was missing his memories. Shadow distinctly remembers everyone’s expressions. Rouge was sympathetic. Knuckles and Tails looked at their brother with pain in their eyes. Sonic tilted his head back with a bright smile that made Shadow’s heart stutter. Sonic said it was fine, and he stopped treating Shadow so familiarly.
Their second meeting was completely different. After that first meeting, Sonic avoided Shadow. It was blatantly obvious when Rouge gave Shadow an inhibitor ring that belonged to Shadow before the gap in his memories. Shadow couldn’t stand it. He thought Sonic was looking down on him. So, when they accidentally met each other in the forest, Shadow wanted to take revenge. He didn’t when he saw the expression on Sonic’s face, hidden in the darkness but exposed by a single streak of moonlight slicing his face in half. Sonic— like Shadow— was in the forest because of a nightmare. At that moment, he wasn’t looking down on Shadow. No, he was looking at Shadow like he was a ghost. Shadow couldn’t stand either fact, so he pushed for a race— a competition— to take their minds off of everything.
It worked. Now, they race in the forest all the time. It is one of their preferred pastimes even after their relationship went in a different direction than Shadow ever thought it would.
But he doesn’t regret it. He has many, many regrets, but there isn’t a single one with Sonic. He doesn’t regret their original first meeting. He doesn’t regret their second one. He doesn’t regret asking Sonic to race him that fateful night in the forest.
He doesn’t regret it because they’re dancing in the forest now, and Shadow gets to see that smile one more time.
Sonic brought a radio with him. It was one that Tom was going to get rid of. Sonic thought Rouge would enjoy it. He was teaching Shadow how to use the radio. When a certain song came on, Sonic grabbed Shadow’s hand. Sonic’s had a habit of holding Shadow’s hand long before whatever they have going on started, so Shadow didn’t think too much about it. This changed when Sonic put Shadow’s hand on his waist. He grabbed the other hand. Shadow didn’t know what was happening when Sonic encouraged him to start dancing with him. Shadow doesn’t have any skills in dancing, but between copying Sonic’s movements and his fighting prowess, he eventually got the hang of it. He, at least, is making the right motions even if he’s more stilted than graceful.
Sonic, on the other hand, moves like the wind. Every motion is fluid, flowing right into the next one. Shadow wants to feel some competitive urge to be better than Sonic, but he finds that fire has been blown out. He blames Sonic’s wide smile as he realizes Shadow is humoring him. Most things, Shadow realizes, can be blamed on that damned smile.
Sonic lifts his and Shadow’s hands above him. He spins himself out. Shadow keeps that hand in the air while the other one hovers near the space Sonic’s waist was a second ago. Sonic laughs openly as he spins back into Shadow’s personal space. He stops on one foot. He starts tilting. His back hits Shadow’s chest, and the ebony hedgehog has to brace his back leg to keep them both from falling over. Shadow glares at Sonic, but the azure hedgehog is laughing. His head falls back against Shadow’s shoulder. Shadow huffs. The corners of his lips twitch upward for a split second. He holds Sonic close, listening to that melodious noise directly in his ear.
Shadow doesn’t expect refinement from Sonic, but he does think a racecar bed is a little peculiar. Sonic didn’t defend himself, merely shrugged Shadow’s words off. He brought some comics over to the bed. He lies flat on his stomach on one side. He patted the space beside him, and now Shadow is lying on his back beside Sonic. He stares at the clouds shown through the skylight in the ceiling. He listens to Sonic read out the comics, giving commentary on each panel.
The brothers, Knuckles and Tails, have their own rooms now. Shadow knows this because Sonic mentioned it when they were moving Knuckles and Tails’ stuff out. Shadow would know that even if he didn’t have the knowledge because there are spaces all throughout the room made emptier by the impression that something once belonged there. Shadow feels his stomach twist at the hollowness. He wonders idly if Sonic feels the same way. Is there a conflict to fill the spaces but not wanting to erase the traces of his brothers?
Shadow turns to ask, but Sonic is already looking at him. Shadow raises an eyebrow. Sonic puts his cheek into the palm of his propped up hand. His legs swing, and Shadow thinks Sonic’s tail is doing the same thing. “You remind me of Batman.”
“Because I’m dark and brooding?” Shadow questions sarcastically while rolling his eyes.
Sonic shakes his head. “Because you’re kind.” Sonic drops onto his side. He reaches out to grab Shadow’s hand in both of his own. He squeezes gently. “You’re so kind.”
Sonic always speaks with the force of honesty behind each word. Even when he’s joking, there’s too much earnestness surrounding him. It lives in his eyes and his smile and his hand. It’s in the air he breathes and the scent he exudes and the laughter he gives. Freedom in expression, thoughts, and opinions.
It’s entirely too much for Shadow. He looks away sharply, unable to reconcile with his own feelings of inadequacy and Sonic’s insistence that he’s as close to perfect as anyone can be. He can’t handle anything Sonic does, not after learning that Sonic considers Shadow’s happiness to be worth any amount of suffering.
“Why do you always hold my hand?” Shadow asks, pointedly changing the subject.
He thought the question was innocuous enough, but Sonic’s face falls. He releases Shadow’s hand. His fingers move down to hover around the inhibitor ring. Sonic stares at it like he can see the past reflected in the gold. “When you were falling, I reached for your hand. I had it for a moment. It slipped from my grasp.”
Sonic doesn’t say much, but his countenance and his tone and his subtle actions speak volumes. The slow shudder. The inability to make contact. The harsh stare. Shadow might only have hazy memories of falling to Earth, but Sonic has vivid nightmares about it. Shadow doesn’t know how long he has to stay in Sonic’s life until the azure hedgehog’s mind accepts that Shadow is alive and here.
Shadow grabs one of Sonic’s hands. He moves it to his chest. He flattens Sonic’s palm against it. Shadow keeps his hand over it. Sonic’s eyes widen. Shadow takes deep, even breathes, feeling his heartbeat press against Sonic’s hand. Shadow glances away. “Tell me more about Batman.”
Sonic’s mouth opens. It closes as he starts laughing quietly. Shadow closes his eyes. He focuses on the laughter, the hand over his heart, and words about a superhero he couldn’t care less about from a hero Shadow doesn’t think he could care more about.
Sonic is stargazing. He lies flat on his back, letting the grass mix with his quills. His arms are crossed beneath his head as a pillow. He stares at the sky above them. The stars reflect in those emerald irises. They are wide, trying to catch sight of the entire sky with a single look.
Shadow is decidedly not stargazing. He might be lying on his back, but his eyes are trained on Sonic beside him. He watches every minute expression flicker across his face like a candle’s flame in the wind.
Sonic turns to look at Shadow. His mouth is open with other words, but his expression tightens with confusion when he meets Shadow’s eyes. He frowns, “What’s wrong, Shads? Why are you looking at me?”
“All I could see on the ARK were the stars,” Shadow tacitly says. As an afterthought, Shadow adds, “I could not see you on the ARK.”
Sonic’s eyes widen. An open-mouthed smile crosses his face. His irises sparkle. He looks equal parts giddy and embarrassed, and it causes bright red to appear on his muzzle. Sonic shakes his head in disbelief, but he can’t quite knock the smile off his face. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
It takes a moment for the words to register to Sonic’s ears. To be honest, it takes a moment for Shadow to realize that he said them aloud. He means them, of course, but he didn’t think he would come out and say it. Sonic didn’t, either, and Shadow can both see and listen to the surprise spreading throughout Sonic’s body.
“Oh, Shadow! You don’t have to say that! I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to. I’ll—”
Shadow cuts Sonic off with a kiss. When he pulls back, he narrows his eyes. “Shut up. I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”
Sonic snorts. He turns away, but Shadow can see the happiness— pure and simple, as it is— covering Sonic’s face. Satisfied, Shadow goes back to lying on the ground. He doesn’t think either of them are stargazing anymore.
“You know, you talk about me holding your hand a lot, but you always kiss me when you want me to shut up.”
“Not true. If I kissed you every time I wanted you to shut up, we’d always be kissing.”
“Ooh, romantic and rude. Only you, Shadow. Only you.”