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Predictably, Shadow is out of the recording booth the second the Q&A wraps, disappearing into the halls of the corporate office. He doesn’t offer so much as a backward glance, let alone a goodbye.
Oh, well. Sonic lingers behind, leaning against the wall as he pulls out his phone. His timeline is buzzing, flooded with reactions to the session. A smile spreads across his face as he scrolls through the comments, the majority of which boasting positivity from both his and Shadow’s fans. Some of the remarks make him chuckle—namely the jibes at Shadow’s surly attitude—until a particular post gives him pause.
sonic’s so desperate to take him on a date 😭😭😭
“Desperate?” he mutters, eyebrows shooting up. “Okay, that’s a stretch. Wait—date?”
Someone else elaborates with greater detail.
So far, Sonic’s asked Shadow on:
a music concert date
a fishing date
a shopping spree date
and now a party date.
Helpfully, another person replies:
don’t forget the ice cream date!
Sonic stares at the screen. Did he really do all that? The banter plays back in his mind like a highlight reel. At the time, those invitations weren’t given with any particular intention. He was just testing his luck, trying to get Shadow to drop the lone-wolf act for once. Worming his way past Shadow’s defenses has always been a personal challenge of his; there’s no beating the satisfaction he derives from getting Shadow to relent.
There are also the, uh, legitimate and romantic feelings he’s got for the guy, but they’re not supposed to be noticeable. It’s crucial that he's known for being cool, composed, and unaffected by something as embarrassing as that. Why didn’t the bigwigs step in and tell him to settle down?
With a grimace, he continues scrolling.
does sonic know that “two sides of the same coin” is gay terminology??
Aw, Sonic admitted he’s jealous that Shadow smiled for Big! So cute. 💙🖤
The comments aren’t few, and even some very dedicated artists have already posted sketches of the two of them on those hypothetical outings. Yeesh, and I thought I was fast, he thinks with dismay.
He loves the “Sonadow” fanbase to death—sure, some of their theories are absolute reaches, but they've fueled his own wishful thinking that maybe, just maybe, Shadow might feel something for him too... buried deep, deep down. But right now?
This is humiliating. And risky. Usually, Shadow’s indifference toward social media is one of Sonic’s greatest blessings, but this is the Year of Shadow. He might insist he’s above the hype, but Sonic knows he’s secretly eating it up.
With a nod of resolution, Sonic zips out of the room. Then he screeches to a halt, doubles back, and snatches up the “drawings” they’d made of each other during the Q&A lest the janitorial staff toss them out. He stashes them in the room they call his office (despite the fact that he never uses it for more than storage) and resumes his mission, speeding through the building in search of Shadow.
He finds him in a nearby lounge, fixing himself a cup of coffee.
Briefly, Sonic hesitates in the doorway. Then he shakes it off. He’s so chill. And he’s not even a little bit desperate. Confident, collected—that’s his brand. He can’t falter here.
“Was Orbot’s delivery not enough? I’m starting to think you need an intervention,” he quips, stepping fully into the breakroom. He closes the door behind him. “Also, it’s like, 8PM.”
“Haven’t I heard enough from you today?” Shadow responds, not deigning to turn around.
“Aw, don’t be like that. It wasn’t that bad. You just hate admitting that you’re capable of having fun.”
When Shadow says nothing, still facing away from him, Sonic's eyes wander before settling on his tail. He has a tenuous grasp of his impulse control on a normal day, but right now, he feels borderline manic. He wants to reach out and grab it, just to see Shadow jump.
Despite his reputation for being a go-getter, someone who’s not afraid to face the most perilous of dangers, Sonic hadn’t envisioned confessing to Shadow anytime soon. Or ever. Ideally, he would’ve made Shadow fall in love with him through his boundless and irresistible charm. One day, Shadow would show up, looking all broody and conflicted, and bare his heart in that blunt, no-nonsense way of his, unable to keep his affections buried any longer.
It’s a scenario he’s given a nonzero amount of consideration.
If Sonic leaves things as is, he’s a tryhard who’s desperate for attention. But if he can get Shadow to reciprocate, he’ll prove that when Sonic the Hedgehog shoots his shot, he never misses.
His heart pounds in his chest. He has no plan—but that’s never stopped him before. The rush fuels him, setting him ablaze from the inside, like he’s flying over endless chasms or skimming past deadly spikes.
He sidles closer, his hand landing lightly on the edge of the counter beside Shadow’s. He leans in, dragging himself into Shadow’s peripheral and invading his personal space. Shadow’s gaze flickers to Sonic’s hand, then to his face.
“It’s just us, Shadow. No one’s recording this. You don’t have to pretend like you’re sick of me.”
“Who’s pretending?” The words are sharp, but Shadow’s inaction says otherwise. He makes no move to shove Sonic away or otherwise discourage the proximity.
That’s gotta be something.
Sonic makes a gamble. “Tell me to go away, then. Say it and mean it, and I’ll leave you alone.”
It’s a dangerous line to walk. He doesn’t want to hear a definitive, genuine dismissal—and asking for one is setting himself up for heartbreak. Sure, Shadow’s admitted before that he doesn’t outright hate him, which is great and all, but liking him? That’s a whole different beast.
Shadow goes quiet, carmine irises boring into Sonic with a level of scrutiny that makes his quills prickle. The silence stretches, taut, until Shadow’s lips twitch into a faint scowl. It’s distracting. His mouth usually is.
Finally, Shadow speaks, his voice edged with reluctance. “… Did you need something?”
Relief crashes into Sonic like a tidal wave. Swiftly following that is the dopamine that comes from minimal-odds success. This—this right here—is why he’s addicted to chasing high risks. Their rewards are all the better.
Now—what does he need?
You, he thinks, clear and insistent.
Actions over words has always been more his style.
Before he can overthink it—and really, when does he ever—Sonic lifts his free hand and cups Shadow’s muzzle. Shadow flinches at the contact, just barely, his ears flicking in surprise. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his eyes narrow slightly, that familiar glint of challenge sparking in them. And, well, Sonic just can’t resist that.
He closes the distance between them, tugging Shadow’s face toward his own. He tilts his head, heart rabbiting in his throat, and fits their lips together with reckless abandon. Go big or go home.
For a blissful moment, it’s pure, euphoric intimacy. Shadow’s not pulling away. He’s still, complacent, and the realization sends a heady rush of triumph coursing through Sonic’s veins.
Then, just as quickly, Shadow rounds on him—and Sonic’s back slams against the counter with enough force to make him grunt. He laughs reflexively, wincing through the ache. Shadow is scant inches away, glowering at him with an expression that’s equal parts murderous and accusatory.
Unfortunately for him, Sonic’s into this. He does his best to temper the excitement, though his tail wags interestedly behind him.
“Explain yourself,” Shadow demands, forearm pinned against Sonic’s sternum with unyielding strength.
Heat flares in Sonic’s gut and spirals downward, every nerve set alight. Shadow’s pressed right up against him, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower not to writhe. “Explain what?” Sonic teases, smug. “Seems pretty self-explanatory to me.”
To emphasize his point—and because restraint has never been his strong suit—he rolls his hips.
Shadow’s next breath stutters. He seems momentarily shellshocked, but then—not to be outdone, he grinds back.
Sonic’s moan is intermingled with another laugh. He feels drunk on adrenaline. He was right. He was right! Shadow wants him too. If he didn’t… well, Sonic’s pretty sure he’d be nursing a right hook to the jaw or watching Shadow disappear in a flash of light.
Instead, Shadow bends his head down, sharp teeth grazing Sonic’s neck before sinking into the sensitive skin beneath his fur. He instinctively splays a hand against Shadow’s chest for support, dizzied by the reality of the situation he’s thrown himself into. Shadow seems content to use him as his personal chew-toy, wringing gasps from Sonic’s throat with each successive bite. All the while, he periodically ruts against him, like he just can't help himself.
Sonic’s doing a pretty good job of keeping his gleeful exclamations of disbelief to himself, lest Shadow change his mind.
It’s all very exhilarating, but he has a vision in mind. He drags his hand down Shadow’s torso (first copping a feel of that tantalizing white fluff, of course) and slides it between his legs to rub at his slit. Shadow chokes out something unintelligible and lowers his forehead to Sonic’s shoulder, succumbing to the pleasure.
Greedy for more, Sonic uses the opportunity to duck under Shadow’s arm, spinning them both so that Shadow’s the one pinned against the counter. He wastes no time, leaning in close, his hands braced on either side of Shadow to cage him in.
“What’d you say earlier?” He injects an exaggerated amount of gravelly affectation to mimic Shadow’s tone and cadence. “You fold so easily.”
“Don’t think you’re seducing me. I—”
Sonic drops to his knees in one fluid motion, his hands sliding down to rest on Shadow’s hips. He bats his lashes up at Shadow’s dumbfounded expression and resulting silence. “… You were saying?”
Regaining his composure, the corner of Shadow’s lips quirk upward in a smirk. “So, you’ve finally figured out a better use for that mouth instead of running incessantly.”
“Very funny.”
Shadow makes to retort, but the words never manifest when Sonic leans in, nosing along the line of his pelvis while his palms trace the curve of his thighs. The shift in control is palpable, and Sonic revels in it, his grin sharpening as Shadow’s grip on the counter tightens.
For once, Sonic takes his time, intent on savoring this. It’s not often he gets to see the Ultimate Lifeform in such a state—disheveled, struggling to maintain his usual stoic demeanor. Sonic glides his tongue between the folds that hide his cock, ecstatic to finally know what Shadow tastes like.
It doesn’t take much to coax it from its sheath, which Sonic immediately logs as another win. He’s warm and heavy in Sonic’s hand, straining toward his touch and leaking at the tip.
Amused, he strokes the length of it, following the gradient of color from base to tip. “Black and red even all the way down here, huh? I can appreciate the consistency.”
“Stop ogling and get moving.”
He’s tempted to go even slower, just to annoy Shadow, but he has been dreaming about this for years. So, he obeys. But not because Shadow told him to, for the record.
He takes him into his mouth, wet and eager, keenly focused on Shadow’s reaction. The quiet intake of breath, the way his hips jerk forward despite himself—it’s addictive. Sonic hums softly, the vibration drawing a low groan from Shadow that sends a shiver down his spine.
Shadow’s hand relocates to Sonic’s head, finding purchase between his ears. Surprisingly, he doesn’t yank him around, but the grip is firm, grounding himself as Sonic works. He can feel the weight of Shadow watching him, heavy and burning, as if he’s daring Sonic to look up.
So he does.
The sight makes Sonic’s heart skip. Shadow’s head is tilted back, his jaw tight, but his half-lidded eyes remain locked on Sonic. The flush deepening his features makes a very pretty picture. He wonders exactly what Shadow’s thinking about him in turn.
Sonic swallows him deeper, hollowing his cheeks and moving with a tempo that earns him another ragged exhale from Shadow. The sound alone is enough to divert another wave of heat pooling low in Sonic’s belly.
“You’re—” Shadow starts, stilted, and he doesn’t finish.
Sonic draws off of him, gliding slowly, before pausing to cradle his cock against his face. “What’s that? I’m…?”
Shadow stares, buffering. Sonic holds back a snort. There's not a coherent thought behind those big beautiful eyes, is there?
“Finish what you started,” Shadow manages, his tone clipped, and he pushes down just enough to guide Sonic back into place. Sonic snickers, the sound muffled, and obliges, letting his length slip against his tongue and back inside his mouth.
Sonic presses closer, hands exploring with growing confidence as he traces the lines of muscle and commits the geography of his body to memory.
Once he finds his rhythm again, he loses himself in it. His pace quickens, his movements smooth and sure. He takes him deep, throat flexing around the intrusion. Shadow’s breath comes faster, his sharp inhales punctuated by soft, involuntary sounds he can’t quite suppress. Sonic’s never heard such a sweet symphony.
“Damn it,” Shadow mutters. He’s close, tense with building release.
When it happens, it’s sudden. Shadow thrusts thrice, goes taut, and releases a moan that Sonic will never forget. He reflexively pulls Sonic off of him, and Sonic barely has time to react before he spills over, streaks of warmth coating Sonic’s face in the aftermath.
For a spell, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of Shadow’s labored pants and the faint hum of fluorescent lights.
Sonic sits back, exultant. “Not bad, huh?” he says, voice raw but dripping with smug satisfaction.
Chest still heaving, Shadow glares down at him. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late for that.” He hauls himself upright, standing with some difficulty. He’s so turned on he feels like a livewire.
Shadow eyes him for longer than necessary and then scoffs. “Look at you. Making a mess of yourself.” He turns to reach beside the coffee machine for a handful of napkins.
“I’d argue that you made the mess. What, you don’t like how it looks? Your mark on me?”
Shadow’s silence is loud.
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“Just shut up and sit still.” Shadow shoves a napkin at his cheek, wiping it down. He’s endearingly focused for the length of time it takes to clean Sonic up. It’s a little awkward, but sweet. He could’ve left Sonic to deal with it himself.
Shadow’s sweet. Sonic’s known as much for a long time now. Stellar head might put him in a better mood, but he’s not the type of guy to waste his time on creature comforts without a good reason. That means Sonic has to act fast—let him know that his intentions aren’t shallow.
Here goes nothing.
“You know, those were dates I was asking you to go on. Earlier, I mean,” Sonic says, anticipating the warmth to color Shadow’s muzzle.
Instead, he says, “Obviously.”
Sonic’s heart drops into his stomach. His fantasy of a shy and blushing Shadow, overwhelmed by the prospect of their budding romance, shatters in an instant. Left behind is the other hedgehog regarding him neutrally.
“W… What? Don’t tell me you read all those comments!”
“What comments? I don’t need anybody to spell out your pathetic attempts at asking me out. I was there. I lived through it.”
Sonic sputters. “But—that—you knew? The whole time?”
“You aren’t subtle.”
This can’t be happening. Shadow was supposed to be oblivious! Shrilly, Sonic demands, “Then why didn’t you say anything?!”
“I was waiting. Unlike you, I’m patient.”
“Demonstrably untrue, but okay.”
Shadow glances away. “I was curious to see if you’d man up and take initiative.” Sonic’s about to protest the expectation that he’s a coward when Shadow tacks on, several shades less sure and softer to boot, “And whether or not this was all just a game to you.”
Oh. Ohhh. That’s more in line with what Sonic was expecting.
“Hey. You know me,” Sonic says, stepping closer and winding his arms around Shadow’s waist. He’s certain to catch his gaze, allowing Shadow to gauge his sincerity. “I like to have fun, sure, but when it comes to this, to people’s hearts, I don’t play around. Earlier, I gave you an out. I’ll give you one now, too. You want this, Shadow? Or are we gonna pretend like it never happened?”
Shadow’s eyes narrow, flickering with something hard to pin down. Sonic feels his heart pound in anticipation. He doesn’t dare interrupt, though. This is Shadow, after all—he processes things at his own pace, in his own way.
Finally, Shadow exhales, brow furrowed. “You’re serious,” he states quietly, like he’s working out the reality of it aloud.
“Dead serious,” Sonic replies, his voice steady. He refuses to let his usual bravado mask his vulnerability when he’s asking for the same from Shadow. “But only if you are too. I’m not looking to mess around. Not with you.”
Shadow studies him again, searching for any crack, any hint of insincerity. Whatever he sees seems to pass muster because his shoulders relax, just barely. “Hmph. That’s good,” he says. “Because I don’t do halfway, Sonic. If we're doing this, it’s all or nothing.”
Sonic’s grin returns, softer this time. “That’s the only way I know how to do things. All or nothing.”
Shadow’s lips twitch. He takes a deliberate step closer, erasing the small distance Sonic had left between them. “Then show me you mean it.”
Challenge accepted. He leans in and then pauses, giving Shadow every opportunity to pull away. But he doesn’t. Instead, Shadow tilts his head slightly, lids drifting shut as he meets him halfway.
This time, the kiss is gradual and explorative. Shadow reciprocates with equal fervor and even takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into Sonic’s mouth. It feels like heaven, but it’s made all the better knowing Shadow’s tasting remnants of himself. Sonic pushes back, grasping tight, as Shadow kisses his breath away.
Not to be outdone, he nips at Shadow’s bottom lip, only for Shadow to retaliate in turn. It’s a playful battle for dominance until Shadow eventually concedes, drawing back to reorient himself.
Sonic can’t help but wink. “There. That real enough for you?”
“It was... adequate,” he replies, though Shadow’s looking at him like he wants to do things to him currently inaccessible in this breakroom. Sonic shudders, jittery with excitement.
He already threw himself at the guy once. He’s shameless enough to proposition him again. “Enough to keep this going? Somewhere with a bed, maybe? I’m down if you wanna get creative, though.”
“Ridiculous,” he mutters, but the way he can't keep his hands off of Sonic betrays him.
“And yet, here you are,” Sonic says, gesturing wide. “Caught up in all my ridiculousness. You love it.”
Shadow grumbles. “I tolerate it.”
Tolerated all over my face. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
Changing track, he eases Sonic away from him. “I took my bike here.” He assesses Sonic from head to toe, clearly debating whether he should make Sonic run to his apartment in his current state. “... I’ll give you a ride.”
“Aww, yes! You do like me.”
Shadow sighs, making his way toward the door. Now that Sonic knows what to listen for, it's unmistakable: the fondness, the indulgence.
Sonic falls into step beside him, beaming. “Oh, come on, don’t act like you’re not thrilled I finally said something. I know you’ve been waiting for this, babe.”
Shadow freezes, giving Sonic a glare that would make a lesser man cower in fear. “Don’t call me that.”
“Noted. So, just ‘babe,’ or should I scratch ‘darling’ and ‘sweetheart’ off the list too?”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re smiling,” Sonic fires back without missing a beat.
“No, I'm not.”
“Are to! S’not a bad thing, y’know. Your fans love it. I’m pretty partial to it, too.”
Shadow quickly turns away, grabbing Sonic by the hand and picking up the pace to the parking garage. Sonic snickers at the embarrassed pull of his ears. Soft as a marshmallow underneath that prickly exterior, isn’t he?
He pulls out his phone and angles the camera down at their joined hands—Shadow’s wrapped firmly around his own. He snaps the picture and smiles down at it.
Dark Rider gleams in the dim overhead light, its crimson accents matching the streaks in Shadow’s fur. Sonic slows to take in the sight of it, whistling low. “Still a beauty. Almost as pretty as you.”
Shadow rolls his eyes, stepping forward and letting go of Sonic’s hand to straddle the seat. Sonic hops on behind him, settling in close and wrapping his arms around him.
The bay fills with the loud, reverberating roar of Dark Rider’s engine as Shadow kicks it to life. The vibrations hum through the bike, and Sonic, already worked up, shifts in his seat. He leans forward just a touch to alleviate the ache between his legs, the movement catching Shadow's attention.
“Behave yourself.”
“Why would I do that?”
Shadow shakes his head, shifting into gear.
Meanwhile, Sonic busies himself with his phone again. He stretches his arm out, adjusting until the selfie camera perfectly frames himself holding onto Shadow, expression self-satisfied. He snaps the shot and switches to Twitter.
With signature speed, he uploads it alongside the picture of their hands. His fingers fly across the screen as he types a caption.
thanks again for all the questions, folks! have a great night. I know I will 😉
He hits send, and turns his phone off.