Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Shadow pressed bare hands into the mattress. He lowered himself down, minding his quills, until his head met the pillow. He allowed Sonic a moment to catch his breath, staying silent as heavy puffs of breath filled the room.

“Do you,” a pause. “I mean, can I—can I do it back?” Shadow didn't react. The ache low in his gut begged for him to just say yes, but the idea of following through with it already began forcing it away.

A beat passed.

A few more allowed the question to hang awkwardly in the air.

Sonic shifted, rolling his body to face Shadow. “I know that's not really your thing, buuut,” he trailed off, shifting his gaze to meet Shadow’s, eyes pleading. “Please?”

Blinking quickly, Shadow snapped his eyes down, focusing instead on the steady rise and fall of peach fur. The bright green desperation hurt too much to look at directly, and Shadow refused to let his eyes water from the pain.

Reaching behind his back, Shadow found the discarded comforter, giving his answer by draping it over their bodies. Burrowing his head under Sonic’s chin, Shadow hoped that Sonic would accept that the moment was over. The rigidity he was met with told him that wouldn’t be the case this time, but still, Shadow said nothing.

Shadow felt the tickle of his ear twitching as a hot sigh blew against it. “Is there something wrong, you know, with us?” Insecurity wasn't a tone that suited Sonic’s voice. “You do still like me, right?”

That wasn't the conclusion he was expecting Sonic to come to, but after hearing it, Shadow’s surprised he hasn't heard it sooner. It hurt. The pleasant feeling low in his belly was now completely replaced by a nauseating pain in his chest.

Curling tighter and squeezing his eyes didn't make the sting go away. He should have told Sonic sooner. This conversation should have happened months ago. If it had, it wouldn't have hurt them both like this.

In an attempt to steady his voice, Shadow tried to take a grounding breath, but it shook as he released it. “Of course I still like you.” His hand found Sonic’s, finding some comfort in the familiar feeling of downy fur against the pads of his fingers. “I just, it's a long story, I suppose.”

“My parents don't get home for another couple hours.” He said it like it was just that simple. Was it? Was Shadow overcomplicating this?

He could simplify it, keep it relevant. Maybe he didn't need to dig around in the past to explain this, at least not right now. Shadow let himself feel around his brain for the words, picking them carefully, forcing himself to speak honestly.

“I want to do those things with you,” he decides to start with, speaking the words quietly, like he's telling a secret. In a way, it felt like one, like he was admitting to something he shouldn't be. “My body is different from yours,” he forced out. The bitterness in his voice was loud, he knew Sonic could hear it.

The mattress shifted slightly as Sonic pressed closer to him; a small spark that Shadow couldn't snuff out warmed him as a strong leg pushed between his, hooking their ankles together. “Yeah, Shads, it is. You can freaking teleport, and, not to mention,” Shadow didn't need to look at him to know Sonic was wearing a smirk, “your quills are way cooler than mine.”

A bit of tension released from his spine as he huffed out a breath of a laugh. Shadow never was good at handling hard emotions, but Sonic maintaining his humor was a calming reminder that he was safe here.

“But,” Sonic continued, “considering the context here, I'm assuming you mean something else.” Squeezing the hand under his, Shadow gave a single small nod. “I don't really care what you’ve got going on downstairs, if that's what you're getting at. I just want to be close to you.”

And wasn’t that something beautiful to hear?

Shadow wasn't sure how Sonic would feel about it if he knew why his body was the way it was, but he let the thought move to the back of his mind. For now, he just wanted to sit in this moment.

“Would it be easier to describe it to me, or show me?”

The moment’s gone.

“Hedgehog.” The word pulled from his throat, growling out a mild warning.

Sonic pulled his hand out from under Shadow’s, moving it to sit against his cheek instead, forcing the eye contact that Shadow was avoiding. Sonic’s brows were relaxed, and he had an easy upwards tilt to the corner of his mouth. Beautiful, as always.

“We could keep going, if you want.” The offer was punctuated with a slight nudge of the leg trapped between his.

Another spark.

It could be easy. Most things with Sonic were, and Shadow wanted to believe that this could be, too.

It took nearly two years for Shadow to accept that his feelings for Sonic were something like love. When Sonic completely missed his mouth during a post-run spar a couple months later, Shadow knew then that it was, in fact, love.

It wasn't until several months went by that Shadow felt like he was fully comfortable experiencing the intimacy of a mouth on his, but when he was, he only wanted more. The first time he pressed his palm against the swell of Sonic’s pouch, it wasn't a conscious decision—it was an instinct.

The spell had been broken when Sonic had reached between his own legs. He had tried to play off the panic, telling Sonic that he just wanted to focus on him. It worked, at the time, but after it kept happening, Shadow knew Sonic was getting frustrated.

Logically, Shadow knew that what made him different from Sonic wasn't that odd. It was odd, definitely, but not enough that Shadow should be as afraid as he was. It was what it meant that scared Shadow.

On a few occasions, Sonic had made comments about where Shadow had supposedly come from. A meteor, apparently, is the lie GUN had told Sonic about his origins.

Would Sonic still want to do this with him if he knew what he was?

When Sonic pressed his mouth hotly to his and pushed his knee upwards, Shadow figured he could wait a little longer for the answer.

Eager and excited as always, Sonic didn't hesitate to open his mouth, and Shadow let him in. The taste of Sonic’s spend still in the back of his throat and the slick glide of a soft tongue pushed away most thoughts of insecurity and uncertainty, and Shadow drowned in it.

The feeling of arousal that Sonic was so good at igniting within him was coming back, stoked on by the overwhelming love that poured out of Sonic—right into Shadow.

The hand that was once caressing his cheek was moved to cage him in, Sonic’s elbow pushing into the pillow next to his head. It shouldn't have shocked him when he grabbed his ear, but it did. It was like a lightning strike that moved from the tip of his ear to the tips of his toes, jolting his body upwards, chest meeting chest.

Sonic pulled away, just enough to blind him with his bright eyes and wicked smile. “Do you like that?” As if to make a clarification, Sonic rubbed his thumb in the shell of his ear, kneading it in his hand.

“Yes.” Shadow didn't mean to say it quite like that, squeezing his eyes shut, spine arching again.

“Sweet.”

A hard press of a kiss to his lips that was over before he realized it had started, and his ear was let go of–too quickly for his liking. Opening his eyes, Shadow was met with an expression that was softer, kinder, than the one he just saw. “Can I please touch you?” Sonic asked in that same vulnerable voice he used to ask if Shadow still liked him.

Just like Shadow had confirmed that yes, he still did, he heard his voice offer a shaky, “Yes.”

With the sweetest smile, Sonic said, “Okay,” and moved the arm bracketing his head to the edge of the comforter.

“Wait.” Shadow grabbed his wrist. “Don't look.” He wasn't sure what difference it would make, but he knew that it made a difference to him.

“Shads, if I give you a handy under the blanket, I'm going to have to wash your jizz out of the sheets.”

Ignoring the crude language that Shadow had given up on asking him not to use, Shadow bit out, “I don't care. Don't look.”

“Okay, okay, I won't.”

Sonic went back in to kiss him again, open mouthed, and Shadow released his wrist. Trying to clear the anxiety riddling his brain, he forced himself to focus on the glide of their tongues, and not the hand that was now resting on his hip under the blanket. As if to ease him into it, Sonic kept it there, but Shadow could feel the underlying anticipation in the way it varied in pressure, fingers squeezing and unsqueezing, heel pushing into the bone and then gently massaging.

The first sound in the back of his throat that Shadow couldn't keep to himself acted as an invitation for Sonic to continue. His hand glided from hip to center, feather-light, causing a shiver that stuttered Shadow’s attempt to keep kissing.

Just the press of Sonic’s palm felt better than anything Shadow has done to himself.

Sonic didn’t reconnect their lips, and Shadow’s brain wasn’t able to make him bridge the gap, too single focused on the finger pad rubbing the seam of his pouch. Warm air under the blanket enveloped newly exposed skin, followed by the gentle touch of Sonic’s soft hand.

“What…?” Shadow opened his eyes, seeing the confused way Sonic was looking down at where he was touching him.

An almost experimental glide on his shaft made Shadow hiss, but he forced himself to speak. “I, I can’t control it.”

“You make your own lube?” Sonic said, as eloquent as ever, still moving his hand.

“That’s one way to put it.”

Sonic locked his gaze with him. “That’s so cool.” And they were kissing again.

With renewed efforts, it seemed like Sonic was trying to consume him. The way his tongue curled behind his teeth, the way his hand dragged across his skin–it was maddening. If it wasn’t for the grounding feeling of weight on his chest, Shadow could have floated away.

Shadow did his best to kiss back, but it was a losing battle. He had to accept that this was something that was being done to him, for him, and he was just along for the ride. He was powerless in a way he didn’t feel when he was giving to Sonic. There was an attempt to keep sounds of enjoyment to himself, but he couldn’t keep them all in. It felt obscene to hear them coming from himself, but when Sonic moved his hand to press into the sensitive skin under his dick–likely trying to mimic the way Shadow does it to him–he couldn’t hold onto the surprised groan that tore from his mouth into Sonic’s.

That was an area that Shadow refused to acknowledge. He never felt the desire to touch himself, not until his and Sonic’s relationship developed to a point where, sometimes, Shadow would succumb to the need, alone in his room with Sonic on his mind.

A finger pressed against him. “Shadow…?” It moved down, and he could feel wetness being pushed against his fur.

He has to say something. “Both. I have both.”

“Wait, really?” There was excitement in Sonic’s voice, and Shadow felt the way he tried to press in, before pulling his hand away completely. “Can I touch you there, too?”

Shadow avoided looking at Sonic, instead glaring at the bulge under the covers of Sonic’s hovering hand. “You don’t think it’s weird?”

With a laugh, Sonic said, “It’s weird as hell, dude. The best kind of weird.”

“Don’t call me dude,” he said in reflex. Swallowing, he looked at Sonic. He was smiling in a way that showed off the boyish gap between his front teeth, but also the sharpness of his canines. It was earnest, yet predatory. It made his groin pulse, made him harder, wetter–whatever the hell was going on down there. It made him want more, whatever Sonic was willing to give. “Do what you want.”

“Hell yeah.”

Sonic returned his finger pads to the slit hidden in his dense fur, and Shadow couldn’t control the way his legs spread to give him room. Sonic shifted his weight onto him again, pressing their foreheads together as he gained the confidence to push one of his fingers inside.

It was weird, foreign, wonderful.

Shadow could vaguely feel the bluntness of Sonic’s claw, but mostly he could just feel pressure. It felt nothing like the glide of Sonic’s hand around his dick. It was invasive in a way that was satisfying.

Shadow felt the press of knuckles against him for a moment before Sonic pulled his hand back, then in again. The movement felt like being able to almost scratch an itch.

Unsure what would make it better, he allowed Sonic to explore. He groaned when Sonic added another finger, shifting his hips up. There.

“Like this?” Sonic pressed his fingers up, instead of in. Vaguely, Shadow realized he must have said that out loud. Shadow nodded the best he could, and tilted his chin up to catch Sonic’s lips. He needed a distraction–if he focused too acutely on the rubbing inside of him, he would go crazy, he was sure of it.

He kept his mouth moving against Sonic’s, refusing to break contact even as Sonic adjusted his position, now leaning over him. Sonic made the decision to stop kissing for him, and he whined in protest, which morphed into what Shadow could only describe as a moan as Sonic moved his other hand to stroke him relentlessly.

Shadow was done for, finished, conquered, destroyed.

He choked, soundlessly gasping on air that refused to enter his lungs. This felt nothing like doing it himself. This was singlehandedly the most exhilarating feeling Shadow has ever experienced. He felt it in his stomach, his toes, his teeth–it was everywhere.

When he finally was able to take a breath, he felt the slow exit of Sonic’s fingers. Blurily, Shadow watched as Sonic sat on his heels, wiping his hands on the blanket like it was a towel. “It needs to be washed anyways,” Sonic defended as he looked over to him. Shadow knew it did, he could feel the way the blanket pressed wetness into the fur of his lap.

Seemingly finished with his task, Sonic plopped down next to him. “Sooo…How was that?”

Shadow turned his head to look at Sonic, just so he could see the way he rolled his eyes. “How do you think?”

Where Shadow was expecting sass and a smirk, he was met with softness and understanding. “I mean it.”

How was it? It was…completely unexpected. How it felt aside, since Shadow didn't think he'd even get as far to know how it would feel, it was nice–better than nice. Comforting. Or maybe that was just Sonic. There was none of the shame or loneliness that masturbation left him with. That was because of Sonic, too.

Looking into Sonic’s waiting eyes, there was only one thing he wanted to say. “I love you.”

Surprise took over his face, before settling into that sweet smile of his. Shadow didn't say it often, not enough. “I love you, too, Shad.” He glanced down to the blanket around their waists. “And as much as I want to talk about what's going on down there, I should really get these sheets washed before anyone gets home.”

As much as Shadow did not want to talk about that, he knew that he would have to tell Sonic something. Sitting up, he used the blanket to wipe off his lap, reaching subtly under to make himself decent, before standing and moving to help Sonic undress the bed. Once it was in a pile, Sonic asked him to help put on the spare fitted sheet.

Shadow remembers when Sonic got this bed, shortly after him and his brothers agreed that they no longer wished to share a bedroom. Sonic had lamented about the race car bed, how excited he was the first time he saw it, what it meant coming from Tom and Maddie, but Shadow knew he was also excited about what it meant to have a bigger bed and a room to himself.

They hadn't yet gotten together at that point, but Sonic had invited him to lay in bed with him. Looking up at the sun shining through the skylight, Sonic said it was cool that they both fit in it. That wasn’t the first time Shadow thought about kissing Sonic, but it was one of the times.

“Alright, I'm going to run down and throw these in. Do you want to stay up here, or go for a walk or something?”

“A walk?”

“Or something.” Sonic grinned at him.

They did, in fact, end up simply walking.

After Sonic peaked into the shed to let Tails know they were leaving, they made their way down the path that most of their routes stemmed from.

Midday sun filtering through the nearly empty trees made it warm enough to be pleasant, but Sonic insisted on hooking his arm around his.

“You're only warm because your fur’s black, it's stealing all the sun from me.”

“That's not how that works at all,” he argued, but he was smiling. It felt good.

“Sure it is, it's absorbing all the heat in the air around you, which means, you're stealing it from me.”

Shadow slowly turned his head to look at Sonic, gauging his expression. “I can't tell if you're being serious or not.”

“And you'll never know! Anyways, sooo…,” he leered, “that’s an interesting feature to be born with.”

There it was.

It was fine, he could say it. He wouldn’t like it, but considering Sonic's earlier enthusiasm, it didn't seem likely that he would get an extreme reaction. “More like an interesting feature to be made with.” Even to his own ears, he could hear the disgust he was trying to mask.

Sonic stopped walking. “Yeah, uh, you're going to have to explain that one to me. Wait!” Pausing for what Shadow could only assume was dramatic effect, he continued, “Is this that long story you mentioned?”

He supposed it would have to be. Nearly three years of knowing Sonic, and he never told him. It wasn’t something he ever felt like he needed to–God knows it’s not something he’s ever wanted to talk about with anyone, not even Sonic. “It is.”

Tugging at their linked arms, Sonic said, “Well, let's walk and talk. It's a nice day, perfect for story time!”

His ear twitched, but he let himself be led down the trail once more. “I thought you said it was too cold,” he stalled.

Sonic waved his free hand. “Nah, I was just trying to be slick.”

“You're never slick.”

“I can be, if you want.”

Ignoring Sonic’s version of flirting, he instead focused on the faint smell of smoke–someone somewhere must be having a campfire. It was cruel in the way the universe usually was. What would make trudging up his past better than a scent reminiscent of the worst part of it?

Whatever. He wasn't here to talk about that. Sonic knew about her, she was the only thing about his past worth talking about. Shadow liked keeping her alive by sharing his time with her with Sonic. They would have loved each other. They probably would have teamed up against him, too.

That line of thinking made him smile these days, in a bittersweet sort of way.

Pushing away the thought, he steeled himself. “GUN told you that I came to Earth on a meteorite?”

Sonic nodded. “It was Walters, actually.”

Of course it was. “It was a lie–partially. That’s how GUN operates. It’s one of the ways they maintained control.” Shadow leaned some of his weight on the shoulder pressed against him. “There was a meteorite, but I wasn’t on it. The professor made me. That’s why it was called Project Shadow.”

“Okay hold up. He made you?”

“Using DNA that was extracted from the meteorite. I don't think Gerald knew what he was doing when he made me. There were other experiments, too.”

“Others?”

“From what I gathered, he attempted using just the DNA from the meteorite, as well as spliced together with other samples. Some were from Earth, but not all of them.” This part always confused him. “I don’t know how Gerald got his hands on hedgehog DNA, just that he had it. All I know is that I was the only viable creation, and the others were inevitably destroyed.

Shadow heard a quiet, “Woah,” next to him, but Sonic said nothing else.

They kept walking. Sonic unlinked their arms, intertwining their gloved hands instead. Shadow didn't fully understand why holding hands always felt more intimate, but he appreciated the comfort it brought him.

“Ya know,” Sonic finally said, “the whole falling to Earth thing was cool, but that’s pretty sick, too.” It was said thoughtfully, in a way that was genuine. It was a subtle reminder that Shadow didn't deserve him, but he was thankful that he had Sonic anyway. “So, the whole double fun bits was an accident?”

The sigh Shadow let out was exhausted–Sonic and his one track mind. “Most likely. I may have inherited the appearance of a hedgehog, but many of my abilities that I am aware of come from the other species, including the development of my reproductive organs. If I was created using only hedgehog DNA, I'm sure that mutation wouldn't have occurred.”

“That kinda explains a lot. I just thought you were born with a ton of chaos energy. Like, maybe it was some sort of hedgehog thing. But yeah, no, half alien makes sense, too, I guess.”

Shadow hummed in response. Sonic’s ability to accept new information was something he should have taken into account–Sonic just didn't care.

Sonic led them over to a fallen tree next to the path and Shadow sat down next to him. “So that’s why you can teleport?”

“Yes, that’s why I can use chaos control, and also why I'm genetically a hermaphrodite.” He was purposefully being blunt. “Can we stop talking about this now?”

Rearing back, Sonic gave him a weary look. “Uhh, is that really the right word? I don’t think you should be calling yourself that.”

He didn't roll his eyes, but he wanted to. When the professor explained it to him, that was the language he used. He also told him that it wasn't a possibility amongst mammals, that while sometimes reproductive mutations did occur, that wasn't what happened to him. In Gerald’s previous experiments using the unknown DNA, he told him, it was a trait that persisted no matter what it was mixed with. 

“It is the correct word. Whatever connotation you have with it doesn't change that it is the truth. I take after that side of my conception, which is a hermaphroditic species. If it makes you uncomfortable, we could stop talking about it now.”

“Okay, I can take a hint.” Sonic began to pick at the rotten bark next to his leg. “That was kind of incredible, though. Ten out of ten, would do again, ya know?”

Yeah, he did know.

Ripping off a larger chunk of bark, Sonic took back his other hand and chipped at a corner with his finger. He was nervous.

He cleared his throat, and Shadow waited for him to say something, but the seconds ticked by and Sonic was still quiet. “Say what you're thinking, hedgehog.”

“Ah, heh, you can tell?” Perhaps nervous was an understatement. “You calling me ‘hedgehog’ makes a whole lot more sense now, since you're technically not one. Unless you are? Do you consider yourself a hedgehog? Or is just ‘alien’ more accurate? Test tube baby? Oh, wait, I know–”

“Hybrid.”

“–what if we–wait, what?”

“I think of myself as a hybrid, now stop rambling and tell me what you were thinking about.”

Sonic broke off a particularly rotten section and crushed it in his hand. Opening his fist, he watched as the smaller chips blew off in the wind. “You can shut me down if you're not into it, but I was just thinking that, you know, maybe it would be cool to…uh, yeah. You know.”

He did not, in fact, know. “No, I don't.”

After rubbing the remaining wood chips off his glove on his knee, Sonic began breaking off small pieces just to toss them on the ground. Not breaking eye contact with the spot of dirt where the bark was landing, Sonic started talking. “I mean, I've thought about it before. You know, usually, I imagine you on top, but after earlier, I was thinking that maybe we could try it that way, too. That is, if you want to. I know you're probably not ready to go that far yet, and I'm totally fine with that! I just, I don't know, I think about it. A lot.” He paused. “I mean, not a lot a lot, but, like, I do sometimes. I mean–I'm shutting up now.”

Shadow just stared.

As his brain began processing what Sonic was trying to say using way too many words, he felt laughter bubbling up from his chest. One. Track. Mind. He managed to keep it contained to a shake of his shoulders and a small outward chuckle, but it was enough.

“Why are you laughing?” Sonic screeched. It made him laugh harder.

“You–I just told you I was a government experiment and you–you’re thinking about sex?”

“Hey!” Their laughter intertwined, Sonic's ringing the loudest. “It’s kind of hard not to think about it! Not after having the single best experience of my life.”

That most definitely was a hyperbole, but Shadow excused it. Grabbing Sonic’s muzzle with one hand, he pulled the hedgehog into a brief kiss, quieting his laughter. “I’ll think about it.” Later. “If it’s okay with you, though, I’d like to go for that run now.”

“Sonic the hedgehog is the undefeated champion of the galaxy!”

Straightening up from a hockey stop, Shadow grumbled, "Definitely not undefeated.”

Sonic put one hand on his hip and pointed a finger into the white of Shadow’s chest. “Come on, dude, don’t be a sore loser.”

“Don’t call me–”

“Hey, boys!”

Shadow shifted his head to see Tom standing next to his squad car, ignoring the way Sonic moved at least three feet away from him faster than anyone could see.

“Shit,” Sonic hissed. Raising his voice and walking lazily towards Tom, he said, “Hey, dad! What are you, uh, why are you home early?”

“I’m not ‘home early’, I told you last night I was working a split shift.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why? What did you do?”

A laugh that was a touch too loud to be natural rang out, and Shadow chose this moment to trail behind Sonic to meet Tom. “Why do you always think I did something? Me? Your own son!”

Shadow tuned them out. Eight months. Eight months of Sonic saying that he would ‘tell them eventually’, ‘when the time was right’. It didn’t make a difference to Shadow one way or another, and he had no room to judge–Stone and Amy were still in the dark. Although, sometimes Shadow got the feeling that Amy had her suspicions. There was something about the way she looked at Shadow whenever he said he was leaving to hang out with Sonic, something almost sly.

There were some perks to not telling their parents–mainly, sleepovers. Not that they did much during those, not while surrounded by a house full–or apartment full–of family, but it was still nice to sleep next to each other. Shadow knew, realistically, that those wouldn’t be allowed if their parents’ knew of their relationship. Even at nineteen, Sonic still had to follow a curfew and some house rules, even still getting grounded from time to time. While his parents’ were a lot more lenient now that he and his brothers were older, Shadow knew that Sonic would be in trouble when they found out. Too many sleepovers, too much time left alone, and too many lies.

Stone, on the other hand, had too long of a leash on Shadow, probably. He couldn’t see Stone caring much for them sneaking around. Hell, he’d probably congratulate Shadow on doing something as normal as getting a secret boyfriend. The only issue Shadow had with telling Stone was having the conversation itself. It felt too vulnerable, too revealing.

He would have ripped this bandage off a long time ago, if it weren’t for Sonic. He wasn’t sure what the other was afraid of at this point, Shadow had long since been accepted as an ‘honorary Wachowski’ by his parents, but he gave Sonic his space. If he wasn’t ready to tell them, Shadow would support that.

Pain bloomed in his ribs, and Shadow jerked his head to look at the source. “Dude, you listening?” No, but Sonic didn’t have to elbow him for it.

“What did you say?”

“Actually,” Tom interjected, “I was asking if you were planning on staying for dinner.”

Oh. Shadow spared a glance at Sonic. He really just wanted to be alone–the thought of being surrounded by the loudness of Sonic’s family was already making him queasy. “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Wachowski, but I was planning on heading home soon.”

“I’ve told you, kiddo, it’s Tom. The offer’s always there, though.” He went on to tell them he was going inside, and they both mumbled out their goodbyes.

“You don’t want to stay?” Shadow turned to Sonic–shit. He should have known he’d get upset.

Shadow thought about what he wanted to say. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you,” he said the words carefully, “it’s just that I don’t think I’m up for being around that many people right now.” Wait, did Sonic think– “You didn’t do anything wrong. I promise.” For all of Sonic’s bravado and overconfidence, he still has shown to have a lot of insecurity when it came to relationships with others, and his relationship with Shadow was no exception.

“If you’re sure…”

“I am. Stop worrying.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you later then. Text me?”

Shadow quickly scanned the windows of the house. The second story bathroom light was on–Tom was most likely getting in the shower. Putting a hand against Sonic’s cheek, he pulled him in for a slow kiss. This wasn’t something Shadow would normally do, usually trying to be more careful when they were out in the open like this, but Sonic’s sad kicked puppy face was enough to convince him that it was worth the risk.

Breaking away, Shadow noted that Sonic looked better, if not a bit in awestruck. It was still embarrassing to be looked at with that much reverence. “I will.”

With that, Shadow chaos controlled out of sight to the end of the driveway, and raced home.

Shadow could smell the tea before he unlocked the door. Even now, they couldn't convince her that coffee was just simply better. It didn't matter what flavor of tea it was, the drink itself never tasted as enticing as it smelled.

“I'm home.” He shoved the key back into his bottom left quill cluster.

“You didn't have to tell me, I could smell you before you opened the door,” came the reply from the couch. What was that supposed to mean?

“The only thing I can smell is that shit you have in a cup.” He kicked his shoes off and bent over to place them on the rack, then walked through the entry way. “Besides–what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?”

Pretty as always, Amy tossed her long quills over her shoulder and glanced at him over the back of the couch. “Wouldn't you like to know, lover boy?” She said it in an overly sweet voice, but it didn't stop the cold that washed down his spine.

“Explain, Rose.”

She took a long sip from her cup, almost like the gangster from the movie they watched last week would take a drag from his cigarette. “Hmm,” she considered out loud. “No, I don't think I will.”

Whatever. “When does Stone get off today?” He pulled open the door to the fridge, scanned the shelves, and closed it again. He didn't know why he bothered, he didn’t want to eat.

“Maybe if you looked up, you'd see the schedule he wrote down for us on the door.”

This girl. “Or, you could just tell me.” Picking on her was fun sometimes.

The sigh she made was obviously just for show. “If you must know, baba is closing.”

Good. “I’m going to go lay down. Don’t bother me.”

“Tire yourself out today with Sonic?” She definitely knew, there’s no way she didn’t. He doesn’t know how she figured it out, but he didn’t have it in him right then to care. If Rose wanted to tease him or interrogate him for gossip, she would have to do it later–he wasn’t in the mood.

He didn’t slam the door, he was just making sure it closed all the way.

Apparently the parentals wanna go camping this wkend before it gets cold

I said im sitting this one out

You know what that means???

House party!!!!

Party of 2 lol

If you want to

I wont try anything if you dont want me to

We can just hang out

Orrrr we could try that thingggg

Shadow watched the flurry of texts materialize on his screen. Did Sonic really just ask him if he wanted to have sex this weekend, over text? Of course he did. A better question would be, did Shadow want to?

Or not, thats totally fine to

Answer me dude yr making me nervous

Still not your dude.

Biting into his lip until it hurt, he sent another.

I told you I would think about it.

Shadow had thought about it. He was still thinking about it. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since his head hit the pillow.

Aaaannd??

I mean no pressure fr i just wanna be on the same page yno

Did Shadow want to have sex with Sonic? He did, he really did. He wanted to have Sonic as close to him as possible, he wanted to know what it felt like. He wanted to strengthen their bond, to see what it was like to feel love in that way.

We’ll see what happens. I’ll see you on Saturday.

LETS FKING GOOOOOO!!!!!

See you saterday

Love you

They had a good weekend for it, he’d give them that.

Sonic would have had fun camping.

But no, Sonic wanted to have fun in other ways. Shadow still hadn’t decided what he was going to do. No. He did–he did–but he didn’t know if he’d have the nerve. He wanted to, and here was the universe, with some aid from Sonic, giving him the opportunity.

He could do this. What was the big deal, really? Sonic knew about his quirks, hell, he even liked them. And really, Shadow supposed he should’ve expected that–Sonic was insatiable. And weird. And still technically a teenager. And a virgin–like he was. Currently. Maybe not much longer, though.

The door opened.

Fuck.

“You know, I was going to wait for you to knock, but then you just kept standing there.” Shadow would never not see his beauty, his radiance. Sonic was a light. “Come on,” he grabbed his arm, “pizza came like, ten minutes ago. Ya know, when you were supposed to be here.”

So he was a few minutes late? He needed time to stare at himself in the mirror and wonder what Sonic saw in him.

Sonic dropped his arm as soon as they reached the threshold of the kitchen. “Okay–game plan. Food first, then, uh.” He faltered. “Whatever you want, I guess.”

Whatever he wanted? “Pizza?” Sonic knew he–

“I got you your little chicken salad you like.”

The food was okay. That is, it culled back the emptiness in his stomach that he usually ignored. Some foods were definitely better than others, but most were intolerable. He liked food that sat gently in him–didn’t weigh him down. He didn’t require food nearly as often as the others did–another reminder of how he wasn’t like them–and he took advantage of that. He didn’t like feeling full, heavy. Sonic said that line of thinking wasn’t normal, when Shadow explained it once, that he should probably talk to someone about that. Of all the things Shadow should probably talk to someone about, his relationship with food and eating wasn’t a concern of his.

Watching Sonic eat was nice, though, if Shadow ignored the texture of the cheese and the sheen of grease. The pure excitement Sonic got from something so boring was charming, in a way.

“Sooo,” Sonic started, mouth still full of his last bite, “what d’ya want to do now?”

His mind stalled. “Movie.” Why did he say that? He didn’t mean to say that, his brain automatically supplying him with the next step of how their hang outs usually went.

“Oh…kay. Yeah!” He recovered poorly. “Want to watch one of yours?”

One of his. This again. “They aren’t my movies.”

Sonic took the plastic bowl from him and moved it to the trash. “Sure they aren’t, Mr. Reeves.”

“Sometimes I think you only like me for my voice.” He didn’t actually, but the way Sonic used to go on about that actor was grating.

“You know,” Sonic spoke softly, “I don’t really want to watch a movie.” Neither did he. “Can we take a nap?”

The memory of the last time he was in Sonic’s bed was pushed to the forefront of his mind, so clear he could feel it. “Only if I can brush my teeth.” Please give him a minute to himself.

“I should probably do that, too.” Or not. “You can go first.” Thank god.

If his gums stung and the toothpaste was tinged pink when he spit it out, that was his own business. He returned his brush back under the sink for the next time he slept over, and looked at himself. It was the same reflection he always saw.

He looked down at himself. His feet weren’t cold, not yet at least.

Neither said anything when Shadow passed him on his way to the staircase, but Sonic did smile. Shadow tried to do it back, but he didn’t need to look in the mirror to know it didn’t come out right.

After shedding his shoes, Shadow hesitated. The first time he spent the night at the Wachowski’s, Sonic and Knuckles turned into stuttering messes when Shadow pulled a glove off, quickly turning their heads. Tails was the one who ended up having to explain the cultural significance of gloves where they came from. That was his first time learning something that wasn’t told to him by humans. Another reminder of how he didn’t belong, not with humans, and not with aliens.

So he put it back on, and slept in them. He did this every time he slept over, until Sonic surprised him by taking his gloves off, not even a month after their relationship changed.

Shadow understood, then, why it mattered.

Which is why, now, Shadow hesitated. He could pretend all he wanted that they were going to sleep, and maybe they would for a bit, but they both knew what they were here to do.

Ear rotating to the creak of the stairs, he made his decision. Moving frantically, he pulled the covers up to his nose, hands and feet bare.

Slowly, Sonic moved to the edge of the bed. Shoes, socks, and, eventually, gloves were added to the floor. He didn’t comment on the untidy way Shadow had thrown his own clothes, just pulled the blanket back and climbed in next to him, rolling so they’re face to face.

“What are you thinking about?”

Shadow considered the question. The food he ate, the way it felt in his stomach, the butterflies that were there, too. His heart was beating faster than Sonic’s, he could hear it. This is it. They don’t have to do it today. Sonic’s family is coming back tomorrow. He’s not ready. He wants to do it now. He doesn’t want to be nervous. He is. “A lot of things,” he settled with.

A huff of a laugh tickled his nose. “Me too.” Sonic scooted closer. “Maybe a quick nap’ll help. Hold me?” Shadow could do that.

His hand shook as it settled on the small of Sonic’s back, just above his tail. It twitched once, the smallest of wags. He knew Sonic loved how the white fur on his chest grew longer in the past couple years, but it didn’t help ease his racing heart knowing that Sonic could hear it when he pressed his face into his chest.

Maybe they both had the same idea, because their breathing synced, slowing down together. Four seconds in, four seconds out. With each exhale, Shadow sunk a little deeper into the mattress.

He hasn’t slept yet this week, he remembers vaguely. He couldn’t, not after Tuesday.

This was nice, though.

Warm.

Soft.

Tickles.

Stop. Stop.

He shimmied. Wait.

Do that again.

Oh.

It was dark, but that didn't matter. Sonic.

“I was wondering when you’d wake up. Got tired of waiting.”

He fell asleep? “What time is it?”

“Dunno. It's dark though.” Oh yeah, Shadow knew that.

Something woke him up–Sonic woke him up. “What were you doing?”

There it was again, the predator smile. “This.” He dipped his head down and–Shadow liked that. Pulling away, Sonic said, “Dude, your voice.” Again, Sonic licked a firm strip across his nipple. The texture of his tongue wasn’t noticeable when it was in his mouth, but it was noticeable there. Shadow didn’t even know that something like this felt good, but it did.

Sonic licked again. And again. Then he sucked–

“Ah–loosen up.” The ghost of a breath made him shudder. His hand let go. Only then did he realize the vice grip he had been holding on Sonic’s hip. “Thanks.” He dove right back in.

If Shadow had to guess, he would've assumed that this would have felt like when Sonic would occasionally groom him–it didn't. It felt nothing like that. He didn't like that he liked it. His face burned, he knew he was flushed, but he didn’t know what the bigger culprit was–pleasure, or embarrassment.

No, stop thinking about that.

Sonic. Sonic attached to his chest. Liking it. Liking Sonic. That's what he should be thinking about.

Quills pressed uncomfortably against his back. He was on his back? The graze of teeth pushed him farther out of his thoughts and into action. Grabbing a fistful of Sonic’s, he pulled Sonic off and slammed their mouths together. He’d suggest they brushed their teeth again, if he were capable of stopping, but he wasn’t.

Was he still asleep, locked in a dream? He couldn’t tell.

It didn’t matter, though, not when Sonic was on top of him, biting his tongue.

Sonic pulled himself away, and his leg swung over Shadow’s lap, bunching the covers around his leg. Pulling away farther, Sonic fought with the blanket, pulling at it frantically before it yanked out from under him. His frustration was cute.

Shadow didn’t know what happened faster–the return of a tongue in his mouth, or the first press against his crotch. The hold he had on Sonic’s head and back quills was his anchor, but the grind of hips against his chained him to it and threw him overboard.

He wanted this, he knew he did, but now he needed it.

The kiss wasn’t slow, and the stutter of hips was enthusiastic. A particularly hard push forced his cock free. They broke apart–Sonic to gasp, and Shadow to groan.

He didn't realize he was that hard already.

“You are so hot.” Shadow opened his eyes just in time to see Sonic press his fingers against his own mound, unsheathing himself. Sparring only a second to make eye contact, Sonic locked them together with his hand. The tight heat made everything better, brighter.

Moving without grace, Shadow bucked up. Coordination didn't matter. It was perfect. Dreaming–he was dreaming. He had to be.

“Shads, I don’t think–,” a gasp cut him off, “–I can’t drag this out.”

That was probably a good idea.

Sonic wanted to do this a certain way, he had said so. It was an intimidating thought, but Shadow had been thinking about it a lot. He was thinking about it now.

“Get off me.” He didn’t recognize his voice.

“Wha–?” Sonic lifted a leg off him, and Shadow’s thighs sprung apart. “Oh,” he said dumbly.

Too rough, he was being too rough, he thought as he pushed Sonic back between his thighs, trapping his hips with his knees.

He stared, they both did, down at themselves, hovering barely an inch apart.

“Please tell me you want this, too.”

All Shadow could see was green and blue; he was gasping for breath. He was drowning in an ocean. The siren call of Sonic’s question danced around in his head. “I do.” So much.

They were kissing again, mouths moving and lips carrassing. The weight of what they were doing started to crush down on him.

They were doing this.

When Sonic pressed his cock to him again, it was lower. All Shadow wanted to do was take it with his hand and guide it, but he didn’t. It was almost a shock, he couldn't believe they were doing this, he was doing this. Sonic had to take over, he didn't think he could cross the last step.

He wanted Sonic to do it.

And he did, almost. The bluntness of Sonic’s head caught on him, and Shadow let out a startled sound. “Sorry, sorry,” Sonic squeaked out. He was doing it. Burning humiliation coursed through him as Sonic parted the fur between his legs, but Shadow couldn't look away from where Sonic lined them up. Spread like this, he felt ready, and all Shadow wanted was to get on with it.

“Do it.”

Too fast!

Shadow cried out–he was awake, he was sure of it now–and he heard Sonic mumbling more apologies from above him. Neither of them moved outside of their rough breathing.

It was like Sonic’s fingers, but it wasn't. Sonic reached deeper like this, in a way that was uncomfortable. Shit–did he not like it? It was hard to tell. What if they had to stop? Would Sonic get mad? No, probably not, but Shadow would. Mad at himself. Maybe it wasn't so bad, though, the longer they stayed like this. He was getting used to it. He better get used to it damn it–if he could handle falling from orbit, he could handle this.

“Shad, I can't.” Sonic was trembling. “Can I…?”

He could handle it. Shadow rubbed their fur together as he nodded into his shoulder. They were sweating, he noticed.

As the pressure inside him lessened, Shadow pulled his head back–he had to look at Sonic.

He was glad he did. Blue fur stood on end as Sonic shook, quills flaring out as brows pinched his eyes closed. He looked like he was in pain, but Shadow knew better. It took an image that, in any other situation, would terrify him, and held up rose film to create the most beautiful thing Shadow has ever seen.

The view from atop the Ark at night? The stars while he soars around them? The sun rising over the Earth? Golden fur and a halo of light?

No, what Shadow was looking at in this moment was the most beautiful.

And it was gone. No matter how much Shadow wanted to hold his eyes open, he couldn't.

Moaning in his ear, panting hot air against him, Sonic’s pace was unpredictable. He stuttered, faltered, but he didn't stop.

Rogue needles pierced Shadow’s fingers and palms and arms, but he didn't let go. It was an electrifying sort of pain, like gripping a live wire. Why…? Mouth and eyes falling open, and Sonic was glowing. A bright blue light enveloped him, pulsing like a heart.

“Sonic,” he choked out, “calm down.”

Coming to a reluctant halt, Sonic blinked at him. “Why?”

Another shock entered his hands and jolted up his arms, he had to let go. He gripped the sheets with one hand instead, dragging the other across damp fur to cup Sonic’s cheek. As Sonic leaned into it, Shadow said, “You're charging up too much chaos energy, you need to relax.”

“I don't think I can. How close are you?”

How close was Sonic? “Not close yet.”

“Okay, okay,” Sonic said, almost to himself. Drawing back, he reached down to take Shadow into his hand. Maybe Shadow could be close. 

Shadow hooked his ankles together, giving Sonic the stability he needed to fuck into him and jerk his cock simultaneously. Back pushed into the mattress, Shadow canted his hips up, desperately trying to participate in some way.

Thrusts turned into grinds, and Sonic tightened his hold on his cock. “Shadow, I…fuck, I–” Shadow could feel Sonic getting impossibly harder, could feel the ridges of his head and the throbbing heartbeat inside him. “I'm, oh god. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whined out.

Buried as deep as he could get, Shadow zeroed in on the heat spilling inside him. He needed it, all of it. Locking him in place, Shadow took everything that Sonic’s pulsing cock could give him. Sonic started moving his hand frantically, and that's all it took.

Shadow knew, in an abstract sort of way, that he was making noise, but he couldn't hear it. He finally hit the ocean floor–he was dying. He loved it. Body devoid of oxygen, he was held onto life only from the electricity thrumming through his body.

Slowly, coming out of a haze, his body went slack. A claw snagged on the sheet as his hands relaxed, and his legs fell, just now becoming aware of the ache in his thighs.

“Wow, that was–yeah,” Sonic breathed, pulling back, pulling out.

No! Panic bubbled, and despite the burn in his legs, Shadow clamped them around Sonic again. “Don't.” He didn't mean to growl.

Sonic froze for a beat, eyebrows raised, before huffing out a laugh. “Okay, big guy.” Relaxing into Shadow’s hold, Sonic rubbed their faces together, and Shadow allowed his eyes to close.

It didn't make sense to him why it was important, but he could chalk it up to just wanting to stay in this moment a little longer. Yeah, that was it. As soon as Sonic got off of him, he'd definitely make some joke that would pull him out of his peace and flood him with emotions he didn't want to feel.

Awkwardness, embarrassment, self-consciousness. Humiliation.

Why can't he just be happy? Sonic was happy, if his limp body and lazy purring was anything to go by. Sonic probably wasn't thinking like he was. What was Sonic thinking about? Did he see him differently now?

Wait, no, remember what Stone told him. Identify the negative thoughts. Understand why he’s having them. Let them go.

Shadow was thinking badly of himself. He’s thinking badly of himself because he just had a new and emotional experience. He hasn't been given any reason to think badly of himself. Sonic is purring. Sonic is licking under his chin. Sonic still loves him. Shadow is safe.

“Mm, Shads, we should probably clean up before sleeping.” He sounded like he was already falling asleep. Did he sleep at all earlier?

Logically, Shadow knew they had to get up, but his brain wasn't logical. He knew this about himself. Stone was the first to call him out on it, hence the many coping exercises that have been drilled into him, and the stack of empty journals Stone has given him over the years.

He wanted to stay just like this. He wanted to sleep like this. He knew Sonic wanted to get off now. Damn it. “Okay.”

It didn't take much for Sonic to pull out, already soft, but a whine still pulled from his throat at the loss. Oh, Shadow liked doing that more than he thought he would.

Sonic leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before moving to lick one last strip up his face. Standing, he watched as Sonic moved to his lamp. Shadow grabbed at the blanket to cover himself before–

“It's not working.”

“What?”

“The lamp.” The dial clicked, but the light didn't come. “It's not working. Hold on, let me–” He moved to the wall switch, flicking it back and forth. Nothing. “Uhh?”

Sonic was glowing, before, Shadow remembered. “Don't tell me you blew a fuse.”

It took a second for recognition to spread across his features. “Dude, I totally blew a fuse when I blew my fuse.” And there was the stupid joke.

Ringing, from somewhere downstairs.

“Shit. Shit shit shit,” Sonic panicked as he ran out of the room.

He was back before Shadow could debate on if he should follow him or not.

“–my fault? It could've been anything.” Must be Tom. “Okay maybe it–I’m sorry! It was an accident! …Okay. …Sorry, dad.” Conversation over, Sonic sighed down at his phone.

“Well, good news, I didn't knock out power to this side of the country again! Bad news…I did knock out power to this side of Green Hills. But! Wade’s fixing it now, so it's okay!”

Shadow would be sure to be scarce when Sonic’s family got home tomorrow. If they're lucky, the only consequences from this will be a week without Sonic, and listening to his boyfriend’s subsequent complaining when he’s finally ungrounded.

Two weeks, actually, was the consequence.

The echidna had intercepted Shadow after a few days to deliver the message: No phone and no friends for two weeks.

Two weeks to be alone with his thoughts. Sure, they talked before Shadow left, but that was mostly spent chewing Sonic out for losing control like that. No, Sonic, a ‘world shattering orgasm’ was not an excuse, and no, the flattery wasn't working.

Okay, maybe it worked a little bit. That, and the knowledge that Sonic would be alone in his punishment. 

Also, it was kind of funny. That is, as long as it didn't happen again.

Sonic hadn’t texted him yet today, but he’s sure he would as soon as his phone was handed over.

Not waiting for it to cool, Shadow took a drink. Ugh, what? Scrunching his face, he regarded his coffee.

Maybe the milk went bad.

Pulling the jug back out the fridge, he scanned for the date. Another week. He uncapped it and sniffed, just to be sure, and no, it was fine.

“Everything alright?” Stone asked.

“It doesn't taste right.”

“Huh. Mine tastes fine.”

Strange.

“You know what to do, agent. Get me answers, and don't be seen.”