Work Text:
Stone knew he would never be good enough for the doctor.
He was human, and that alone was a cardinal sin which could not be overlooked. Never mind the fact that for most of his life and professional career he had been referred to as anything other. Robotic, his revolving door of caretakers had called him. Mechanical, he had been noted with fear and awe through his army days. A machine, he was praised as he worked his way through G.U.N.’s roster from a bottom-level grunt, to an agent, to the very best the Guardian Unit of Nations had ever seen in its long, prestigious history. And yet it all fell short in the eyes of one Dr. Ivo G. Robotnik.
All of his sub-human praises suddenly meant nothing, as he was brutally reminded by the most brilliant man in creation that he was nothing but painful, pitiful flesh and bone. Every day, each of Stone’s illustrious achievements and praises from GUN were proven pathetic, one by one, as each of the doctor’s newest creations surpassed him in ways unthinkable to the human mind. Each day, the doctor—in the sick, twisted fashion he was known for—reminded Stone of just how human he truly was. As soon as he’d been told to pin himself to the wall so the doctor wouldn’t make contact with his fragile human flesh, he knew he was in love.
At first it didn’t matter how deep the agent’s feelings ran. The doctor had made it clear from the moment they’d met, before Stone had taken the plunge, that he held no intent of catching feelings (he’d spat the words like an illness) for any sort of non-mechanical, organic being of any shape or form. And that was fine for Stone. He could dote and care and cherish the oddities of his muse from afar; slowly inching closer and closer, with a decade of work between the two, until he had so graciously been allowed into the innermost circle of Robotnik’s thoughts.
He knew of his plans for world domination, had stayed up conspiring and offering cheerful encouragement no matter the time of day or levels of exhaustion weighing his mortal frame down. He knew exactly how he took his coffee—hells, he’d invented the most convoluted and complicated drink possible at the doctor’s behest! Each year he spent with Robotnik was another year learning how precision and specificity were the keys to unlocking each set of tungsten-steel doors the doctor had built over the course of his entire life.
But it wasn’t meant to be. Even if Stone’s heart longed for it. Even if songs from the doctor’s playlists began worming their way into his own discography. Even if he consistently saved photos to his secret Pinterest account, boards labeled with “Wedding ideas” that would never come to fruition. Add on the fact that Stone was a defective government dog at best, and at worst was a snivelling, good-for-nothing mewling quim whose only impact his pathetic little life ever could have is becoming an inconvenient smear from his genius babies (a direct observation from the doctor after Stone had brought his coffee order wrong after their second day together), and it was no question just how out-of-his-league Robotnik was.
All he could do was pray and devote himself to his eclectic, manic god, all in hoping to get into his kingdom of good graces and sweet nothings he murmured to his machines when he thought Stone wasn’t looking. Despite all claims and accusations towards the former, his god was benevolent but fair, granting glimpses of his genius to those he deemed worthy enough to receive such revelations. Among those were his beloved badniks, and, miraculously, Stone, his most patient and dutiful disciple.
Stone knew, he knew that there was no way the doctor returned his feelings in any capacity. That being allowed even this close to Robotnik after all these years was a miracle by GUN’s standards, outlasting each agent they had carelessly thrown his way to chew them up and spit them back out with a resignation letter and choice words thrown every which way. And yet, when it was finally confirmed, it still left Stone in utter shambles.
The day his perfect daydreams fell to pieces around him was maddeningly familiar. The doctor had asked Stone to reorganize the storage closet just across the hall from the lab where most failed and busted projects from the government went as soon as they or Robotnik was done with them for the time being. Stone was tasked with reorganizing the wall-to-wall clutter on a near-monthly basis, with how often the government requested the doctor’s precious time before dropping him halfway through a project.
Stone had finished the task with plenty of time to spare before the doctor’s next latte rotation was due, and so decided to meander back into the main laboratory to inform the doctor of the good news. Extra efficiency always put the man in a good mood, and Stone was chomping at the bit to eke out the sliver of satisfied smirk that came from it. He crossed the hallway, silently hovering in the doorway as the metal silently slid open.
Robotnik was sitting with his back turned to Stone, head in one of his hands as the other one toyed with hologram screens plastered in digital documents labeled “WORLD DOMINATION”. Reminiscing on secret plans was never a good sign; the doctor was trying to cheer himself up. Stone beamed even harder, silently crossing the threshold to the doctor’s sanctum to deliver the good news. Just as he opened his mouth to announce his presence, a long, loud sigh burst from the doctor’s chair. Stone just barely managed to catch himself, silently correcting his near-trip out of surprise. So rarely did the doctor express verbal dissatisfaction, followed up by a string of incomprehensible mumbling. A very, very bad day then. All the better that Stone was there to cheer him up.
He was only a half-step away from the back of the doctor’s chair, hand outstretched and about to brush against the leather upholstery when he finally caught a piece of the doctor’s muffled ramblings, the fateful words that would shatter his heart permanently.
“…not good enough. Not yet. Not for him.”
Stone froze. Surely he hadn’t heard that right. Surely he hadn’t. At first he’d tried to reassure himself that it was just a project; some newfangled gadget a monkey could cobble together but Walters still demanded of the doctor’s genius. But Robotnik couldn’t give more of a flying fuck about what he or the rest of the pentagon thought. He frantically wracked his brain, searching for any clues or knowledge that could possibly disprove his worst nightmares coming true right in front of his eyes. The doctor’s following sentence only made his heart break further.
“I’ll get it someday. When it’s all mine, I’ll give it to him. And then maybe…maybe he’ll…”
Stone couldn’t bear to hear him finish the sentence. He fled. For the first time since becoming an agent, Stone ran away, terror digging metal-tipped fingers into his heart and ripping it out just as he made it to the bathroom. His legs collapsed beneath him, the source of his lifeblood torn from his useless form. The mangled remains of his heart were almost tangible, the metallic scent of regret and bleeding heartache filling his senses.
Eventually, he had to make his way to his feet, finding himself in the kitchen. Numbly going through the motions of making Robotnik’s latte, leaving the foam on top blank for the first time in years. The doctor didn’t comment, or if he had, Stone hadn’t registered it. Somehow, he made his way home without killing himself on his motorcycle, although at that point, he might not have even cared about an accident.
The minute the door clicked shut behind him, he collapsed for much longer, ragged sobs tearing through his frame as he bawled his eyes out. He cried and cried until he could barely breathe, vision blacking out and sucking in jagged gasps between desperate little animal noises pressed against the cheap carpet flooring of his apartment. He knew he couldn’t stay on the floor forever; from a practical standpoint, and the useless drive for survival his hindbrain pushed him towards. But right now? Now, he could do nothing but mourn; despite the unlikelihood of him ever being chosen, he could at least hold on to the stupid fantasies he had concocted in his brain, that he had carelessly gone and sunk his heart into. Somehow, it hurt even more knowing that the doctor’s preference lay with men and yet Stone still. Wasn’t. Enough.
The first thought in his head after the all-consuming grief had waned was anger. He’d been the one to stand at Robotnik’s side, praise his genius, aid him in his creations, pledge his undying loyalty to his dreams of ruling the world, made the man his lattes for crying out loud! It was him who pledged fealty until death; him who took bullet wounds between backhanded compliments for the sake of his doctor; him who had been the first to prove worthy of receiving his divine revelations. And some sniveling, lowlife commoner had the audacity to take the doctor’s attention away from him?!
And then the reality of the situation hit him. Of course the doctor, loath as he was for human contact, would want for the company of a fellow genius to keep his intellect stimulated. There was no way the genius hadn’t cruelly and methodically eliminated every potential subject of interest to be his perfect compliment, his other half. Stone simply hadn’t made the cut. How incredibly self-absorbed to think otherwise; the audacity to even think he might someday measure up to the monumental genius was laughably audacious. Stone should know; the doctor had told him so himself.
He’d cried himself to sleep the first few months after he’d learned of the doctor’s plans. He combed through his memories from the past decade and a half of being at the doctor’s beck and call; every single waking, sleeping, breathing moment was spent with him. There was no way he had missed the view of the doctor’s mystery paramour. And there was no way in hell it was some Dan or Stanley from the lower rungs of GUN’s staffing.
Could it have been another scientist, someone Robotnik had met briefly when Stone was pulled away to stand guard at the events required of the both of them? Some dashing gentleman with the brains to perhaps not rival (never rival, nothing could ever compete with the doctor’s genius) but entertain, provide thoughtful entertainment and discourse? Someone he actually wanted to be around, instead of resigning himself to being pinned with an agent he only managed to tolerate?
His spiralling thoughts threw him into a turmoil, dazedly making the doctor’s lattes before drifting back into his unconscious red-string-board of theories and connections across a decade of work day in and day out for months. One night he snapped, sobbing and hysterically pleading to any number of higher powers to tell him why he just wasn’t enough. But he never heard anything back. Of course not. Even if there was some other power out there, there was only one god here on Earth he prayed to every night.
He knew, deep down, that he was just a stand-in, a warm body and a decent-enough fuck to keep around until the doctor succeeded in bringing whoever it was that he truly wanted into his grasp. His body had been an asset for undercover missions and work on more than one occasion; the thrill of being roughly manhandled against a desk, bent over with buttons and digits pressing dents into his skin was wrapped in a layer of hurt and envy for whom he was a stand-in for.
Really, Stone couldn’t fault the doctor for wanting someone as perfect as he was. It was privilege enough to be able to breathe the same air as him; having his touch and mouth and tongue and bruises hidden under tasteful turtlenecks and starched collars of suits were akin to blessings from gods. And yet still he had hoped—gave into the foolish human desire for connection that he had never craved from anyone until his mustachioed, devilishly handsome boss had beckoned him into temptation from rough, gloved hands and even rougher treatment.
Case in point; Stone was riding Robotnik like his life depended on it, desperately rocking and grinding back and forth in his lap opposed to full-on bouncing as to not disturb the doctor while he plugged in the last lines of code for their most recent project. The doctor had beckoned him over hours ago; whistling for him while his hands briefly flew to his hips. Stone had, of course, dropped everything, the clinking of a belt buckle and the whistle of leather through belt loops urging him on like a dog to his favorite treat.
This was one of Stone’s less favorite means of pleasing the doctor. Of course it was wonderful to be allowed so close; to slick himself up while the doctor watched on approvingly, legs shaking from the effort to keep them open on display, the instinct to shut them away warring against the command to let me watch you. The rasp of familiar leather on his wrists, rubbing against abrasions that still hadn’t quite healed from their last excursion. The pure ecstasy as he finally, finally, slid into place, lowering onto that perfect, perfect cock achingly slow as a raspy voice cooed “Slowly now, Stone. I wouldn’t want you to lose yourself before your job is done.”
And yet it still couldn’t hold a candle to when he would take him fast and rough on the desk, or on the floor, or against a wall in a spot Stone had been pinned to in a very different context just hours prior; when the doctor had his arms around him, hips pistoning into him like a machine, and Stone could pretend that the biting grip of long fingers were from the doctor’s barely restrained passions. That they were more than madman and assistant; just a pair of lovers intoxicated with each others’ presence alone.
With his hands bound in his lap and the doctor’s clicking tongue to direct Stone (“Go slowly,” was the silent command, a language they had built off each carnal encounter), the agent couldn’t help but let his mind wander. Would Robotnik’s mystery love do this? Service the doctor and being satisfied just knowing they were helping to stimulate the working mind of the most genius man on earth?
Would they know to avoid the too-sensitive areas like the back of his neck when he dared to leave his own rare marks of possession? Would they learn to cope with his aversion to hand-to-hand contact and be content to squeeze buttery leather in the webbing of their fingers while the doctor had them on their back, screaming in ecstasy? Would they let the doctor rip out all the painful, stupid, human parts of themselves and replace them with perfect machinery, so the pulpy bloody meat in his chest and his head would stop wanting what they could never possibly have?
His brain wouldn’t stop pulling him back to that day. His heart panged with jealousy and hurt on the doctor’s behalf hearing the genuine dejectedness in his voice. The desperation, the craving to love and be loved, was something Stone never thought he’d see his beloved doctor fall victim to. He couldn’t ignore the words ringing like tinnitus from the nuke dropped on his feelings.
“Not enough.”
“Not for him.”
“I’ll give it all to him.”
“Once I have it, maybe he’ll—”
He found himself angry not at Robotnik (never at Robotnik), but whoever it was that rejected his beloved doctor’s priceless, precious affections, infinitesimally rare as they were. For so long the outside world had deemed Robotnik as something subhuman (the nerve of those cretins), touting him about like a spectacle as he aced test after test, earning more doctorates in a decade than most would see in a lifetime. And people were scared of him; terrified of the truth, that their very thoughts were rendered useless the moment they dared share the same oxygen, so they locked him away in the dark of the labs in the underbelly of GUN, where Walters and the rest of the bumbling imbeciles GUN called its higher ups never had to contend with the feeling of being obsolete.
It was what made them a perfect duo, in Stone’s mind; the two most inhuman men in the entire world, and they had found their way to each other. Robotnik, in the eyes and words of every lesser being on this planet, was incapable of love. And yet, as always, Robotnik found a way to prove the impossible of the everyman possible, more than Stone could hope to achieve. He could only imagine the levels of euphoria that might actually make his physical heart explode if he were privileged—no, blessed—enough to catch the doctor’s eye in such a way. Stone just prayed and threatened the imaginary image of Robotnik’s love interest with every fiber of his being that they recognized what a gift they were unknowingly bestowed with.
“Oh Stone~” a voice shook him out of his thoughts, the sound teasing and sing-songy with the sharpness of a razor’s edge. “Your performance so far is leaving something to be desired.”
“Sorry, Doctor,” he gasped, immediately ramping his movements up again. The final calculations behind the Doctor were finished (probably had been for a while, Stone scolded himself; while he was slipping off into dreamland, he had been neglecting his boss for who knows how long). The man himself was casually and sensually disposing of his control gloves, revealing one tantalizing finger at a time while Stone worked himself over the perfect cock inside of him.
Stone hadn’t dated in years. He had tried, for sure, when the space between himself and the other end of his king-sized bed in the GUN-issued standard apartment for their top agents felt extra cold at night. He had tried, but with each turn of the revolving door of men and women on mindless dating apps and hookup sites, he found the cavernous ache in his heart yawning even wider. And how could he, after he had touched perfection itself in the form of the doctor? There was no one who could compare, not mentally or physically. And the sex? That blew any other encounter out of the water.
Sitting on the doctor’s lap for nearly four hours had Stone’s pleasure receptors edging over into pain, his knees tingling from the cramped position beside the doctor’s thighs. Needless to say, it didn’t take much before his vision went blank, especially when the doctor settled both ungloved hands on either armrest beside him (beside Stone’s thighs, his brain giddily screamed at him) and gave him a sly, lecherous grin. A high-pitched squeal escaped him when he finally came, painting the doctor’s black clothes in streams of pearlescent white.
A hand in his hair made him keen, shoving him off and down to his knees at the doctor’s feet. It left to snake around his tie and yank him forward, slamming his face into the mess he’d just made all over the doctor’s stomach. “Be a good dog and clean up your mess,” he growled, choking down on the tie like a leash as Stone began to frantically lap at the cum stains he’d left on the doctor’s pristine image.
When he was finally done, the doctor dropped the tie and clicked his teeth again. Stone shakily rose to his feet, arms crossed behind his ramrod-straight back. “Yes, sir?” He asked, grimacing as he tried to ignore the shaking in his legs. “Make me a latte,” the doctor ordered, his gloves appearing back on his hands as he waved an arm, turning the music off and the lights back on. “Fetch.”
“Right away, Doctor.”
Stone stumbled away; he didn’t know if the hitch in his gait was from sitting on his knees for the better part of the afternoon or the doctor’s generous endowment, but frankly, he didn’t care. There was work to be done, and a latte to be made. And once it had been plated up and served, the trademark artwork ignored in favor of the doctor gulping it down like a shot, Stone took the dirty dish and set off to clean it. After all, he was there for the doctor’s every need, and it wouldn’t do to come back to the lab after this little field expedition to Montana with dirty dishes in the sink.
**********
The months where the doctor was gone were by far the hardest of Stone’s life. The monotony of running this coffee shop ruse felt like twisting an awl into his brain every time he had to interact with these common simpletons. Making lackadaisical small talk day in and day out was enough to drive Stone to the brink of insanity. The only way he could pull himself away from the edge was by white-knuckling the one thing he knew to be true. The doctor will be back soon. He will be. He has to be.
Separation from the doctor felt like he’d severed a limb. Worse than a severed limb; it felt like every one of his organs had been forcibly torn out of his body. Stone felt the withdrawals from the lack of intelligent lifeforms surrounding him, desperately craving a hit of the genius conversations he’d had with the doctor for just a moment. He’d learned the Robotnik Manifesto by heart, internalizing the doctor’s last words instructing him to plan and wait for his return.
He’d commandeered the cafe in a manner of weeks, turning the sleepy little pit-stop of bland and tasteless sludge into a refinery of caffeinated art. Just because the doctor was gone absent for the time being didn’t mean he could slack off on his latte-making skills. He’d stripped the mobile lab and any safehouses GUN knew about (and all the ones they hadn’t) of all the doctor’s technology, adding it to the growing pile of supplies upon the doctor’s return.
And then there was the physical yearning he felt. Being the doctor’s most reliable form of stress relief had made Stone used to the constant touch, from grabbing him by the jaw, to making him pin himself to any available wall, or brutally throwing him over the doctor’s desk and having his way with him. Of course he missed the sex; he’d be an ungrateful idiot not to, and Stone was most certainly grateful. He tried to put the empty aching in his chest (and gut) in the back of his mind for the most part, focusing on gathering his data on Green Hills and waiting. So, so much waiting.
But then, with the same casual gravitas the doctor always had, he returned. He’s back. He’s back! HE’S BAAACCKKK!!! Stone vehemently denied whooping and dancing around the empty cafe like a little girl, but couldn’t keep away the near-painful grin splitting his face apart. He zoomed around the cafe in a flurry, pulling on his smartest suit he’d been saving for this occasion and wiping down counters for the umpteenth time. He’d briefly considered fingering himself, just a touch; surely the doctor was also feeling touch-starved. He decided against it, pushing away lingering thoughts of where the doctor’s thoughts probably lay during his time away in favor of focusing on the here and now and he’s back.
He was just finishing the final touches on his foam masterpiece, sitting on top of his most precise latte to date, when the doors to the cafe were dragged open. Stone knew, logically, his heart couldn’t catch fire while it was still inside his body. And yet, the burning warmth inside him at the sight of the doctor striding into his cafe like he owned the place was overwhelming. He was uncharacteristically silent, taking in the cafe like an animal exploring an unfamiliar space. His hair was gone, mustache wild and untamed to match the hunted look in his eyes, locking on to Stone like a cougar seeking out prey. (He’d be lying if he didn’t say it made his knees a tad weak).
“Doctor.” The agent thankfully managed to keep his tone even. “Welcome back.” Robotnik stared back at him, before finally breaking into a familiar grin with an exclamation. “Papa’s got a brand-new ‘stache!” Stone grinned, walking around the counter to present the doctor with his gift. “I knew it! I knew you’d come back, sir. I never stopped steaming your Austrian goats’ milk.”
The doctor took a deep sip, savoring the taste with a sigh. A touch of milk foam was caught in his mustache. Stone resisted the urge to lean in and suck it out. “Could use some mushroom,” he murmured, more to himself than anything, before throwing the cup over his shoulder. Stone’s scandalized gasp when the ceramic hit the floor was nothing compared to how he choked when the doctor manhandled him against the display glass.
“Doctor–!” He started, before a gloved hand went over his mouth.
“Bzzt!” Robotnik buzzed to silence him. “I’ve been trapped on that god-forsaken piece of shiitake planet for approximately eleven months, fourteen days and seventeen hours. Give or take a few for the days I was hallucinating.” Stone was perplexed, to say the least. And ragingly hard, but that went without saying in the doctor’s presence. Much as he didn’t expect it, being manhandled around by his boss like some sort of caveman really did something for him. “I need something that only you can provide, a sort of…quid pro quo. You know what I’m talking about.” The doctor’s hand flew to his bulge and squeezed hard.
“Doctor!” Stone squawked, pulling his hand off his junk and belt buckle where it was trying to pull. “We—we can’t, the doors are—”
“Windows are shut, the doors are locked, and if anyone looks through that glass window they won’t be able to see us,” the doctor rattled off quickly, hounding Stone around the counter until they were both squarely behind it. “Now! My little friend here needs some TLC.” He yanked down his pants in one hard shove, a bulge Stone was purposefully ignoring until now making itself aggressively known. Another hand on his shoulder forced him to his knees (not that he needed much convincing after seeing his dream dick after eleven months of nothing). “Hop to, Agent. That’s an order.”
Stone wasted no time in dragging down the doctor’s underwear, slipping the band just underneath his balls before lapping up and down the length in front of him. He licked one long, flat stripe up one of the more prominent veins, tracing the shape of it with his tongue to memorize it again. Gods, had he missed this. The feeling of subservience to something much, much greater than he’d ever be. A rough hand in his hair dragged him off the doctor’s cock with a wet smack, forcing his eyes up. “Damnit, Stone,” the doctor swore, a rare occurrence during their trysts. “Get your pants off, fuck.”
The lack of composure was telling of how truly the doctor needed this. Stone was more than happy to deliver, quickly lifting his hips and sliding them down his legs to bare himself. He briefly thanked his past self for at least winning the fight to not wear underwear. The doctor was on his knees too, stroking up and down the length of his cock with the slick from Stone’s spit. With one large hand, he pushed Stone into flipping over, pinning him in place with his bulkier frame. Stone sucked in a sharp breath as he felt the doctor’s length prodding at his hole, willing himself to relax as he eventually, painfully slowly, entered his body.
The doctor sighed with the casual pleasure of slipping into a hot bath. “I missed you, Stone,” he grunted, each shift of his knees urging the head of his cock deeper. “Missed having my favorite sleeve around me on that piece of shiitake planet. The mushrooms don’t do you half the justice.”
Stone pushed the inquiring voice in his head aside in favor of focusing on the feeling of finally, finally being filled. He’d almost forgotten how perfect his cock felt, the stretch just on the right side of painful as the head just barely grazed against his prostate; a tantalizing foreshadowing to what Stone hoped—prayed, really—was to come.
A firm hand between his shoulderblades forced the agent to the ground, punching a yelp out of him with the force. Looks like those muscles were stronger than I thought, a small voice in his head commented, though a larger part of his brain was preoccupied singing a repeating chorus of YES YES OH MY GOD YES at the new angle. An equally strong grip yanked his hips up even further, gravity turning the blissful teases against the bundle of nerves into a full-on press. Stone moaned long and loud, the sound bouncing off the clinical steel cabinets surrounding them as the doctor began to pick up the pace of his hips.
“Did you miss this?” He huffed in his ear, each thrust punching little “ah, ah, ah”s out of Stone’s mouth. “Were your other partners able to pleasure you like this?” The doctor slammed his cock in for emphasis, forcing the air out of Stone's lungs with a choked-out cry against the floor. “No no,” he babbled, nearly incoherent with ecstasy. It felt like the doctor’s cock was buried all the way up to his throat at this angle. “Jus’ you, didn’t—hah, didn’ have anyone e-else, oh god, Doctor!~”
“Yeah,” the Doctor preened, shifting his angle slightly to make Stone scream. “Those, hah, snivelling morons can’t fuck you like this, can’t make you stupid for it? Huh?”
“Please! Please! Please! Plea-hease!” the agent wailed as he was made to take the brutal pounding, pressed to the floor like a bitch in heat by some mad, rabid dog. The scrape of teeth and wiry hairs from his untamed mustache only cemented the image in Stone’s head, keening as he was pinned and made to take it.
“Did you…mmh, miss being a stupid slut for me? So desperate for my cock you’d take it on the floor in public?” Stone’s brain felt like it was melting out of his ears, collecting on the floor along with his sweat and tears. The increase in the doctor’s baser noises were the only indicators that he was getting close. “I’ll bet you…tried to replicate the feeling….hm? Tried to…stuff your dirty hole with whatever weak facsimile of me you keep in your night—hah!—stand?”
The fire in Stone's belly was growing to a painful inferno, white-hot intensity making his vision black out. He could do little more than babble the doctor’s name and plead for more. “Yeah…yeah, you love to—hng! Take it, take me, keep me inside you like some desperate, mewling bitch–”
“Sir PLEASE!”
“You want it that bad, hm? Want to be my—hng!—my little cum dumpster? Bet you felt so. Empty. By yourself. Is that right?” Desperate babblings in the affirmative as the doctor’s strokes became punishingly shallow, grinding his hips against Stone’s ass while pumping his hips with each emphasis. “Want me to fill you up and plug you so you never feel that empty again?”
“I wan’ it,” Stone sobbed, blubbering words and slurring phrases through tears and drool so thick he couldn’t tell which ones were from pleasure or painful desperation as his dick screamed for release. “Want you in me, want it bad, wan’ you—breed me!” Robotnik fully growled at that, the ferality in the back of his eyes now front and center in the rest of him. The grinding motion turned to frantic humping, urging his cock as deep as it could go. Stone was barely hanging on, black spots dancing in his vision with every half-decent thrust.
A strangled cry broke free from his chest unwillingly as a gloved hand wrapped tight around his cock, pumping him in time to the doctor’s hips. “Come on,” he rasped against his ear. “Come for me, bitch. Let me feel you milk my cock.”
Stone felt more than heard whatever animal noise erupted from him as his vision went white. He felt the last desperate thrusts from the doctor, slamming into him with a roar before a flood of molten heat filled him so deep he could’ve choked on it. His head felt cottony and light in a way it hadn’t in eight months, like he could finally let go of the reins and let the smarter of the two puppeteer him for a bit.
He distantly registered the feeling of arms around him, urging him to roll onto his back. He heard his own whimper when the doctor momentarily slipped free, panicking at the feeling of his precious gift leaking down his legs before his cock plugged him up again and assuaged his fears. His arms were shaking and smarting from being pressed into the floor for so long, indents of the rubber mat ingraining red circles in the tan flesh, and his knees weren’t much better.
When his eyes finally reconnected to his brain, the doctor was looking down into his face with a mix of smug satisfaction and a glimmer of…something almost soft in his eyes. The doctor’s forehead was a heavy weight against his browbone, noses slotted together so close Stone was nearly blinking Robotnik’s eyelashes out of his own. They were lined with deep, dark circles, manic in that wild way he’d seen when the doctor first walked through the cafe doors. But, underneath it all, Aban could see the giddy shine of a genius evil plan set in motion, reflected doubly in the ear-to-ear grin.
“Thank you, sycophant,” he purred. Stone almost mewled, his dick struggling to get it up again. There was that side of doctor he had missed the most; the dark, sexy mastermind that knew just when and how to drag Stone into depths of pleasure he’d scarcely known were possible before. God, how he’d missed this; the closeness between the two of them, post-coital or not, though the former was certainly preferable to the agent. He could practically see the different thoughts zipping through the doctor’s brain at lightspeed behind those eyes. Stone had to brutally claw back the urge to lean up and tilt his head just so, where their lips aligned and it would be so easy to just press in closer—
The cafe doors flew open, derailing Stone’s train of thought. “Robotnik! I have successfully completed my reconnaissance of ‘securing the perimeter’!” A deep voice boomed. “The inhabitants of this village cannot overcome the power of my superior strength!”
Both men’s heads shot up from behind the counter. Stone blanched momentarily as a red space…porcupine?—stood where the doors had previously been attached to their hinges. He stared at them for a moment, then said, “My apologies. I was not aware I had interrupted your coupling. I will take my leave.”
Stone made a sound similar to a teapot whistle. Robotnik’s face turned the same shade as his coat, spluttering as he shot to his feet. Stone could only half-choke back the whine in his throat when Robotnik pulled out of him, the rush of cum leaving him the minute his cock was gone. It really had been a long time apart, Stone halfheartedly mused as he struggled to put his thoughts anywhere but between his legs.
Dragging himself to his feet felt like deadlifting a semi-truck, relying on the counter more than his own legs to support his weight. He yanked his pants back up one-handed, awkwardly trying to maneuver them back over his hips while angling his body so it was hidden behind the counter. The doctor had already zipped himself back up, striding over to the red space rodent like nothing had happened. Stone hurried to follow; his tie was uneven and his belt missed half the loops of his pants, but otherwise was composed enough to stand by the doctor’s side and subsequently get his hand crushed by the echidna (apparently), aptly named Knuckles.
After that, the events were a whirlwind. Stone activated the hidden technology features within the cafe he’d outfitted it with in the doctor’s absence, recounting the steps to the Robotnik Manifesto like he was programmed to do. The doctor had whispered in his ear his newest plan concerning their unwanted alien guest—despite his initial misgivings, he was right to not doubt his brilliant maestro, using the hair-brained imbecile in order to find the key to ultimate power hidden somewhere on this planet.
He was given his briefing, a firm shake of his shoulders and lips pressed to his ear, promising a high reward for his loyalty after he acquired the Emerald. He almost sobbed when the doctor pressed a pair of his old control gloves in his hands, ordering him to keep an eye on the hedgehog from the cafe. The devilish gleam in his eyes as Stone swore he could count on him filled him with a light he’d been missing for almost a year.
Eventually, the doctor and the echidna set out to catch up to Sonic and his new little sidekick, also on their way to find the Master Emerald, leaving Stone with the orders to keep the cafe secure and wait for the doctor’s ultimate return as the new emperor of the earth. Stone could hardly wait.
**********
Being put into an interrogation scene by the bumbling dunce that was Deputy Wade wasn’t in Stone’s plans while he waited for the doctor’s return. He’d been a constant annoyance throughout the eight months of the doctor’s temporary absence; always in the cafe the second it opened, ordering a coffee with enough extra pumps to put a bull rhino in a sugar coma, and using any and all plausible excuses to linger like a fly on shit until Stone was borderline-shoving him out the door.
It all added up to paint a pathetic picture of Wade’s embarrassingly obvious crush on the undercover agent. Wade breaking into the technologically-enhanced coffee shop took him by genuine surprise; Stone blamed it on the security systems still lacking with the limited access to the doctor’s resources. The look on his face when he saw the control gloves on his hands was hilarious in and of itself; Stone almost laughed aloud.
He allowed himself to be restrained, backed into one of the cafe’s chairs and handcuffed behind it. He could have easily overpowered Wade—it would have been maddeningly simple, in fact—but with his shaking hands and the almost-certainly loaded gun, Stone didn’t want to risk the deputy taking a shot at him in a panic. Besides, he reasoned to himself, he ought to let the country simpleton eek out one last win in his lifetime; Robotnik was about to rule the world, and there wasn’t a doubt in Stone’s mind that the entire backwater, podunk town of Green Hills would be wiped off the face of the doctor’s new planet as soon as he was able.
If Wade’s reaction to the control gloves and the doctor’s technology was funny, his sudden, grand appearance in the cafe was priceless. The air had taken on a heavy scent of ozone, a beat of calm before the inevitable, unrelenting storm. The hairs on Stone’s neck had stood up ramrod straight, magnetized towards a singularity point between him and the deputy. Wade looked confused, raising his gun questioningly as he murmured “What the…”. Gravity pulled itself to that single spot, and in a flash the doctor was suddenly there.
He was breathtaking. The red sections of his classic coat had been all but replaced with black. Green piping traced geometric shapes over his coat, defining his figure with electric green lines that seemed to pulsate with each breath the doctor took. The air in the cafe tasted like ozone and batteries, as if they all were on the cusp of being struck by lightning. Each screen and piece of technology had turned to emerald green, heralding the return of their true master at his fullest potential.
Stone was hypnotized by the sight. “Doctor,” he breathed, reverent in the presence of his master, finally granted the godhood he deserved. “You’re here.” The doctor turned slightly to acknowledge Stone. The agent shifted in his seat, a flash of confusion and fear running through his veins. The doctor’s eyes were cold and seemed to look right through him. “Yes,” he drawled, a live current undercutting his tone. “I’m here. And yet I’m not…all there.”
Stone’s blood went cold. “Sir, are you feeling okay?”
“I’m more than okayyyyy~!” He trilled, conjuring shapes out of green energy to boast his newfound power. The deputy was still shaken, hands trembling as he pivoted between pointing his gun at the agent and the now-supercharged doctor. With a snap of his fingers, the agent was on his feet and Wade had replaced him in the chair, cuffs and all. Another zap of electricity and Stone’s face was squeezed between the doctor’s hands as he leered over him.
“I can smell the electricity in your brain…” he drawled, leaning down so close to Stone’s mouth he could practically taste the electricity rolling off the doctor in waves. Stone’s knees felt weak, buckling under the sensation of fingers and the scent of ozone. Robotnik looked like he wanted to eat him right up, could lean down and devour his mouth in a kiss or the flesh off his bones. His eyes were wide, bright electric green dancing through his irises and scattering down his sclera to worm their way underneath his skin.
Then he paused, neck snapping to where Wade was restrained to the side. “You smell like a snack plate,” Robotnik sneered, looking down at him with distaste. Stone shot him a dirty glare. If that damned deputy wasn’t there, he could have been enjoying this new primal, powerful version of the doctor in full. Preferably naked. And with some type of rope.
Stone didn’t have to worry about him for long. With a flick of his wrist, Wade was sent flying through the doors of the Mean Bean with a terrific crash of glass and wood. Stone gasped at the display of the doctor’s powers, unsure if the rush of blood out of his face was in fear or arousal. Through the hole in the doors, he could hear the sound of GUN vehicles approaching, sirens whining and helicopters whirring as a voice shouted for the doctor to come out with his hands up. “Off to battle, dear sycophant!” The doctor cackled in glee, lightning surging up to cocoon the two of them.
When the light disappeared, Stone was seated at a control panel, watching the doctor’s gorgeous frame suspended by tendrils of pure energy in the hull of his most massive creation. “Sir!” Stone called, pure awe shining in his voice. “You’re magnificent!”
“Thank you, sycophant,” the doctor drawled, typing something out on his control gloves. “World domination playlist, tuning in now.” With a grungy, dirty baseline, the battle had begun.
Everything afterwards was a high of adrenaline and exhilaration. The doctor built his magnificent Death Egg automaton, dragging Stone in alongside him as it formed around the two. He traded blows with the GUN missiles and weapons, forming supercharged badniks with a thought to send into the fray. Stone commandeered fending off the little fox’s airplane, smashing it to pieces with the patented Stache-Smasher. The two were working in perfect sync, cornering Sonic as he tried in vain to escape the doctor’s charge through the woods.
The doctor let out a triumphant yell as the blasted rodents and their human conspirators had been turned into a skidmark of primary colors under a giant metal foot. The doctor’s influence over the Death Egg was literally infectious; Stone could taste his victory in the electricity flowing around them, surely grinning like a loon as the blue blur and his conspirators would no longer stand in the way of taking over the world.
**********
The global takeover was near-instantaneous after that stinking hedgehog was destroyed. Countries by the score handed over treaties negotiating political control the moment the doctor’s army was visible on the skyline. They had seen what happened to those who didn’t; who tried to stand against ultimate power, and discovered the consequences. Historians would be finding their scattered remains for centuries to come, Stone mused, if the doctor wished to keep it on the record.
Since the doctor’s ascension to emperor of the world, he decided to construct himself a floating fortress suspended above the earth, looking down upon his great conquest. Those on the ground were treated to the view of a massive ring taking up space across the sky. The structure was to ensure he had an eye on everyone down below at once; the doctor could traverse his entire palace in a second, where Stone was delegated to one section of the palace. He could hardly complain; after all, the doctor’s personal quarters were his favorite.
An inner sphere orbiting within the ring itself, greeting Stone to a new view in the faux morning cycle every time he woke up. So far, two weeks into world domination, it still sent a thrill through him. Stone lived in his own cabin, just a few floors below the doctor’s own suite. His role as a bodyguard was no longer necessary; setting aside the endless amounts of the doctor’s robots keeping guard 24/7 and the ever-shifting location, who would dare challenge the Grand Emperor of Earth?
His singular espresso machine and latte maker had gotten a significant upgrade in their new home. Now, he had an entire floor to bustle around as he worked, fresh coffee beans growing in an atrium in the center and an entire farm’s worth of Austrian goat milk shipped in via the doctor’s teleportation channels. A necessary invention, both for acquiring ingredients and shipping the doctor’s now finalized latte (with a matching painting of his newly-enhanced features) down to wherever he was finalizing negotiations.
The doctor hadn’t returned to his ship since grabbing Stone and teleporting him into his quarters merely hours after their victory over the hedgehog. He’d watched from afar as the doctor made good on his promises, scorching Green Hills and greater Montana off the face of the continent. He saw hordes of badniks building themselves out of nothing, larger and more complex than anything he’d seen from the doctor’s imagination before as they flew off to ensure the doctor’s full takeover. The only consistency he’d been allowed since being put aboard was the doctor’s demand for his daily latte, timing ever-accurate regardless of the time zone he occupied.
His thoughts began to wander as they often did in the hours between when he was needed next. Nowadays, he had no real purpose. Sure, he made the doctor’s lattes, but he always threatened to replace Stone the minute he had a machine to do it instead. Now, he could create them with a mere snap of his fingers. His bodyguard job was obsolete, and there was no way the doctor kept him around for his conversational skills. He hadn’t returned once since his conquest, not even to satisfy his physical needs. Did he even have those anymore? Had he risen so far in his godhood that temptations of the flesh were rendered obsolete?
A sudden thought made Stone stop dead in his tracks. The doctor has everything he wants now. There’s nothing holding him back from taking whoever he wants. What use could I have to him anymore? His heart hammered in his chest, palpitations making him sick to his stomach. Of course. It all made sense now. The doctor hadn’t returned to Stone in weeks; why should he? He was probably down on the planet’s surface making his grand offer to his mystery lover. Tears began to collect in Stone’s eyes. Damn it all, why did it just occur to me NOW—
A crackle of lightning made Stone yelp, whipping around to see the doctor’s face plastered with confusion. “Stone?” He asked, looking around the room for some invisible danger. “What’s the matter with you?! Your heart rate’s so high I thought you’d electrocuted yourself, you imbecile!”
“Sorry sir,” he murmured, shame pulling his eyes away from the doctor’s. He crossed his arms and harumphed, foot tapping in expectation. “Well then? Want to tell me what that was all about then?”
“I…” Stone wracked his brain for an explanation. “I, I…”
“Spit it out, sycophant!”
“I….missed you,” he said, dumbly. “I-I mean, your company. Sir. Doctor.” He hastened to correct himself. “It…gets a little lonely up here, at times. Without someone else.”
The doctor seemed to consider his words for a moment, turning them over in his brilliant brain at the speed of lightning. Then, with that signature grin (the manic one that Stone loved oh-so-much, the one he’d been the only person privy to during his excited fits plotting this world domination) plastered across his face, the doctor crossed the room with swift strides, headed right for Stone. When his hand closed around the agent’s wrists, strength amplified a hundred fold with the power of the emerald, Stone forced his gaze up into the face of the doctor.
He was trying to make peace with the fact he was going to die, disintegrated into atoms as his role as a substitute became obsolete. If he had one request, it would be to make it so the last thing he saw was the near-black pools of Robotnik’s eyes, and not the fluorescent green of the emerald. At least he was able to do so standing in the arms of his boss; for that, he was truly grateful.
“Stone,” the doctor said, voice still tinged with electricity. “I’d like to show you something, now that that stinking hedgehog and his goons are blasted to quarks.” Stone nodded on autopilot, while Robotnik released his grip on his wrists to walk behind him. This is it, he thought hysterically. This is it, and I never got to tell him—
“Doctor, wait—“ Stone started, but was cut off by a finger to his lips. A bare finger, which made him freeze more than the action itself. “Ah ta ta!” The doctor said, another naked finger coming around to pinch the agent’s lips shut. “We’ll have time for your useless commentary later.”
“But sir—!”
“Agent!” He barked, the sound crackling like thunder. “Your incessant worries of logistics and ethics are pointless.” A pair of hands landed on his shoulders, despite the fingers still holding his mouth closed. “Need I remind you that I am the all-powerful emperor of the world?”
“No sir,” he squeaked out, more so at the sudden full-palm contact the doctor usually despised.
The lack of leather between them felt like blasphemy, the erotic drag of calloused finger pads across his lips as the extra limbs left him to disappear into…wherever the doctor kept them. One of the doctor’s real hands drifted down to snag his tie, wringing it up and using it like a leash to drag the agent down the halls. Stone couldn’t help but feel like a lamb being led to slaughter, neck stretched forward in submission, ready for the knife to slit his throat in penance to his god.
Instead, he felt the insistent force drop as the doctor let go. He had dragged the both of them to one of the major hallways of the doctor’s inner palace; smooth walls made of the clearest glass, casting portals into the stars. Through the centermost pane, he could see the earth, blues and green cobbled together under a haze of white (and other pollution). The marbled blue planet was already undergoing preparations for the implementation of the doctor’s full takeover, badnik drones in all sorts of new shapes and models flying towards the surface from areas invisible to Stone where he stood.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice from over his shoulder made him jump. “Y-yes sir,” Stone swallowed. Robotnik had slotted his head right next to Stone’s, his cheek pressed against his ear. A small current of warmth tickled Stone where their bare skin connected. “And it’s all mine,” the doctor chuckled, slowly breaking into a proper evil cackle, twirling back across the floors. “At last, the world will bow before the magnificent Doctor Robotnik!” Stone couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his mouth and his heartstrings.
For so long the doctor had worked, wasting away inside of GUN’s labs with no true way to stimulate his genius. And now, it was finally here. Their day of rapture had finally come to pass. Stone felt the acceptance settling into his bones. His doctor, his master, his god had been so kind to him, sharing with him the view of his earthly spoils, the wonder of his mind and master plan. Not even his secret lover has been here, a vengeful part of his brain hissed gleefully. But he will be, hissed another, louder part. It’s now or never. Say it now.
Stone cleared his throat. “Sir. Now that we…have a minute, I’d like to tell you that I—”
“Aban.” Stone froze, barely suppressing a high-pitched moan at the sound of his name in the doctor’s mouth. He’d never used it during their trusts in the lab, opting for “sycophant” or “desperate whore” instead. His words were stuck, trapped in his chest as the doctor approached once more.
“Do you see it, Stone?” Robotnik’s words echoed the ones on that fateful assignment, bravado then a pale imitation of his success right now. “An entire empire, built to rule those pathetic, simpleton monkeys.”
“Yes sir,” Stone responded, unsure of what else to say. “And yet, I’ve always had a…desire. A vice, a secret yearning for connection I tried desperately to fill for decades, but to no avail.
Oh gods. Oh no, oh no, oh NO. It was worse than Stone thought. The doctor was going to admit his love for that stupid other troglodyte in front of Stone. Was he asking him to assist in his courtship? Their wedding plans? Stone was probably the closest that came to Robotnik’s family at this point, it would make logical sense what he was asking of him. If that was the case, Stone wished the doctor would kill him sooner instead of slowly dying inside, seething at some undeserving skank who stole the doctor away from him.
The doctor suddenly grabbed his hand, shifting so Stone’s was on top. He was so caught up in his worry he barely registered that the doctor had finally stopped talking. He opened his mouth to respond—to, as politely as he could, refuse any position of Best Henchman or officiant, and instead request to be shot into the cosmos sans spacesuit. A shuddering inhale escaped instead, the doctor’s lips firmly pressed against the back of his hand.
In his other free hand, a flash of green light appeared for a minute. As it faded, a green-encrusted ring was floating in his palm. The doctor was looking down at Stone, gazing over the knuckles on his hand with his eyes practically sparkling. “Marry me.” A rush of green fireworks exploded outside the glass walls, each explosion marking the Eggman logo with a burst of sparkles as soon as the words left his mouth.
Nothing happened. Not a single thought registered in Stone’s head as the world stopped. The space station no longer hurtled through space, frozen right where they were in front of the ruined continent of North America. Breathing? What was breathing? Stone didn’t need such trivial things as oxygen. His chest was burning. Why was it burning? He finally registered the feeling of having lips again as he answered with…some sort of sound. A croak? A squeak? Something without words to the effect of asking, What?
The doctor, unnerved by the silence, cleared his throat. “Will you marry me?” The fireworks sounded again, this time almost blinding with how bright and numerous they were. Stone barely acknowledged it, too busy with the contradicting information rattling around in his skull, like a robot trying to process gibberish in the place of code. The doctor has a lover. The doctor is in love. The doctor uses me as he sees fit to relieve work tension. The doctor was going to kill me and make room for his lover. The doctor proposed to—
“Has your auditory subroutine been damaged in the fight against that stupid rodent?!” He barked, snuffing out a third round of fireworks mid-blast with a closing motion. “Stone.” The doctor grabbed his chin, squishing his mouth partially in the process. Finally, something Stone was familiar with that didn’t upend his entire worldview. The doctor’s eyes were scanning his face, searching for….something. Bright, brilliant emerald bored holes into his sockets, before they faded back into dark pools when he couldn’t find it.
“No,” he whispered, deadly silent. His eyes widened as he stumbled back. “No, no no, it can’t be wrong.” The doctor began to hyperventilate, dropping his grip on Stone. Stone tried and failed to keep the strangled half-whimper, half-whine in his throat, more confused than anything, but worried at the doctor’s reaction. He knew he had a tendency to spiral when things didn’t go his way, and watching the doctor tear into himself while his pacing wore a groove in the metal of the spaceship was textbook for him. “I can’t be. It’s not enough, not enough—“
“Doctor?” Stone croaked weakly, his mind still spinning from the emotional whiplash from certain death to overwhelming euphoria, but now laced with great concern. He knew he messed up somewhere, being frozen in place by the doctor’s proposal, but in fairness to him, how could he have known that instead of dying at the hands of his beloved doctor, his wildest fantasies would become manifest? The thought was really beginning to solidify itself in Stone’s brain now, his heart picking up tempo and his face flushing bright while tears began to pool in his eyes. The doctor wants to offer the world to his lover. The doctor offered to share his empire. The doctor proposed to me. The doctor proposed to me!
At the sound of Stone’s voice, the doctor whipped around, once again boring holes into his face. His eyes widened even further when he took stock of the agent’s blotchy face and vision nearly blind as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Stone could scarcely contain his grin, opening his mouth to finally respond properly—
A ragged sound shocked him out of it. Stone blinked the tears away from his vision, squinting to see the image of the doctor gripping his head painfully tight with both hands. He could see red pinpricks beginning to dot his scalp from the pressure. Quickly, he reached out an arm to stop the doctor’s behavior, but the mad genius leapt back at the sight of movement.
Stone’s flowery declarations of love rotted and died in his throat when he saw the doctor’s red eyes behind his hands. He shook and heaved in heavy breaths, still scanning Stone’s face before surging forward. The agent felt lightheaded, breathless with his throat closing up around a sob as he watched Robotnik, globally-revered genius and current world emperor, collapse on his knees at Stone’s feet, grasping at his suit jacket while he sobbed into his slacks.
In all the years Stone had known of Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s existence, from stalking his academic papers and catching glimpses in the hallways as a low-ranking GUN grunt to becoming his right hand man, he never so much as bothered with asking anything, preferring to take and bend others to his will like stars and planets warping around a black hole. Never in a million years had he ever pictured the doctor, prone and submissive, on his knees, begging. And yet…
“Please, please, tell me what I can do to make you love me,” the doctor’s voice cracked, desperation warping his tone nearly beyond recognition. “I see now that conquest of the earth wasn’t enough to sway your interest. A miscalculation on my part—stupid, stupid, should have known he’d need more convincing—“
Stone couldn’t breathe. On the one hand, while his heart sang symphonies and hymns to the glory of being loved—no, desired, by the doctor—the other half of it felt like it was wrenched in two. Seeing him like this, knowing Stone was the cause of it. When there was no response, the doctor shot to his feet. His movements grew frantic, voice pitching higher and higher as Stone stayed frozen. “I-I can do more! We can conquer the rest of the solar system, and the next ones over! Even the neighboring galaxies, hell the universe is well within my grasp!”
Stone broke out of his paralysis when he felt a gloved touch on his cheek, oh so delicately tilting his face towards Robotnik’s. His eyes were filled with tears, the sight alone enough to rip Stone’s rapidly beating heart right out of his chest and squeeze it to death. “Tell me what you desire. All of creation is at my disposal, anything you could dream of, it’s yours. All yours; the earth, the universe—I’d give that blasted rock to you if you wanted it, just—!”
Stone grabbed his arms on instinct just as the doctor nearly collapsed, supporting him as a full sob wracked his frame. “Just stay,” he rasped. “Love me, keep me, tolerate my miserable existence, but please!” He seemed to lose the capacity for coherent sentences, opting to stay standing, shakily, his gorgeous green eyes staring down at his feet. Stone felt faint, weightless and mind entirely blank. “Please,” he shuddered.
The doctor wanted him. The doctor wanted him. The doctor wanted to marry him, went so far as to offer up his means of achieving ultimate power in a bid to convince him. Doctor Ivo Robotnik, the greatest human mind to grace the planet and Emperor of The World, made speechless. For Stone.
Stone finally choked out an answer. “You,” he cried, unshed tears beginning to fall. “I want you. Just you, only you. Anything you’d give me is more than I deserve, Doctor, I—” Stone hiccuped before the full impact of his emotional whiplash hit him like the Death Egg’s final blow and he started to sob. Hard.
Robotnik made a pained noise when he saw the tears, frantically summoning the softest tissues Stone had ever felt to dab at them, zapping into non-existence as they fell to the floor. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry. I don’t want—I never want to make you look so unhappy again.” Stone threw himself at the doctor, clutching at his coat with no regard for how the scientist could disintegrate him. Instead, he felt shaking hands come to rest across his back, inhuman strength pressing them together as if trying to merge the two into one body.
“I thought you were—you were going to kill me,” Stone hiccuped against his shoulder. He was roughly shoved back, the doctor’s face aghast. “What in all of science made you think that?!”
“You,” Stone sniffled, trying to clear his voice. “You said you were waiting to give the world to someone. When your evil plan finally worked out. I heard you months ago when I was cleaning the storage closet.”
“I WAS PLANNING TO GIVE IT TO YOU, YOU IDIOT!!!” Robotnik snapped, shaking his shoulders roughly. “Do you think there’s anyone else I’d even think of giving anything to freely?!”
Stone dropped his gaze, unable to look the doctor in the eyes as he choked out, “I’m not…I’m no one. I’m not good enough for you, sir. I don’t think anyone is.” Robotnik was silent, his hands still digging divots into Stone’s skin through the layers of his suit. A minute passed between them. Two. Then, Robotnik leaned in, breathing in that familiar, husky way that made Stone’s bones turn into jello. “Would you like to know just how deeply you’ve been desired, Stone?” he asked, a familiar, playful purr in the doctor’s voice. “Of course,” Stone breathed, their mouths finally connecting in an open-mouthed kiss.
It was messy and uncoordinated. They both tasted like snot and tears, and it was immediately obvious that Robotnik didn’t know how to use his tongue in any context other than sex. Stone didn’t care. Every clumsy bat of wet muscle against his teeth and the roof of his mouth made Stone’s brain white out, almost creaming his pants with a whine when the doctor sucked just right on Stone’s tongue.
When the doctor finally pulled away Stone whined, reaching back out to try and find his touch again. “Doctor—”
“Ivo,” the doctor said firmly, a hand cupping Stone’s face. “Call me Ivo. I want only you to have that privilege, husband.”
Stone practically came on the spot. A filthy moan escaped him, swallowed up by a second round of rough kissing. A quick snap of fingers left the both of them naked, free to dig nails into skin and leave trails of marks wherever lips could reach. The doctor—Ivo, couldn’t seem to stop biting wherever he saw unblemished skin. Each pierce of teeth was paired with sweet nothings that made Stone nearly collapse.
“So gorgeous.”
“Only for me.”
“So lovely with my teeth in your skin.”
“Such sweet sounds you make.”
“If I just…”
One of the doctor’s bare thumbpads brushed against Stone’s nipples. A jolt of energy made him yelp, jumping into the doctor and trapping his rock-hard cock up between their bodies. Ivo looked stunned, worriedly trying to retract his hands away from Stone’s skin. Stone pinned them against his chest. “Do that again,” he rasped, arching into the touch when Ivo began to purposefully rub and pinch at his rapidly pebbling nipples. At every point of connection to the doctor, a jolt of energy surged through them, a static shock composed purely of the doctor’s arousal.
Stone found himself hoisted up by the doctor’s newfound strength, gleefully wrapping his legs around his waist without breaking the kiss. He felt lightning bolts dancing across his skin, adding to the heightened sensation around him but never, ever turning too far into pain.
A sharp jolt made him gasp aloud; the two had appeared in the doctor’s master bedroom, seemingly teleported by the magic of the emerald. He hadn’t dared to enter this part of the palace, always seeming too intimate for Stone. Now, the massive ocean of jade green sheets would be his resting place every night for the rest of his life. He could picture reclining there after a full day of supervising their planetary conquest, or lazing about on a lazy day when the world below didn’t exist between the two of them.
Stone felt bubbly, like his bones were made out of soda as his atoms reassembled themselves after being pulled through a current of electricity. The feeling soon passed as he was thrown down on the massive comforter, arousal and excitement taking their place as, in a fit of boldness, he grabbed at the doctor’s shoulders to drag him down into bed. Ivo indulged him for a moment, pressing him effortlessly into the sheets in a sensual glide before pulling away. The promise of making sweet, passionate love against such soft covers made the fantasies in Stone’s mind even sweeter.
The doctor was thorough but efficient in dragging Stone over the edge; through the years of their back and forth, he’d learned how exactly he needed to be touched to make him cum. Now, he was purposefully avoiding those areas as he kissed his way up Stone’s thighs, biting and licking as he went. “Doctor–”
“Ivo.” He corrected with a nip on his thigh. Stone stifled a gasp, cock achingly hard. “Don’t hold yourself back now, Aban. There’s no neighbors to disturb here.”
With a wicked chuckle, Ivo made a circle motion with his wrist. In an instant, Stone’s wrists were trapped, yanked up against the headboard with a strand of pure electricity. Stone yelped aloud, a burning jolt of pain burning through his wrists and radiating down his arms, only heightened from the stretch at this angle. “Too much?” the doctor purred, a hand free to undo the bindings with a single word. Stone shook his head frantically. “Keep going,” he begged, breathless. With another laugh, the doctor descended again to continue his ministrations.
One slick finger pressing against his hole made Stone arch, moaning loudly as it slipped inside with minimal resistance. He couldn’t tell if the jolts licking their way up his spine came from the sensation of the doctor’s dexterous fingers pressing down in all the right places or the power of the emerald, but by the time Ivo located his prostate, he was too far gone to care.
“Ivo, Ivo,” Stone begged, straining against the bedposts. His dick was so hard he swore it was turning purple. “Yes?” He answered, unhurriedly adding a second and third finger with ease. “Go on. I can’t understand you if you don’t tell me what you want.”
“Want you—want you to touch me.”
“I am touching you.” He spread his fingers wide, dragging a frustrated whine out of Stone as he purposefully missed his prostate. “Ivo please, touch my dick!”
“Greedy sycophant,” he taunted, paying no mind to Stone’s heaving chest while he stroked the inside of his walls. “Should give your pretty mouth something to focus on instead of making demands of me.”
“Wha–ahhh!” He started, breaking into a loud moan when his cock was surrounded by a hot, wet mouth. The doctor didn’t break stride, still teasing his insides with brushes against that bundle of nerves while his mouth and throat went to town on him. I didn’t know he could do that, Stone thought hysterically as he watched his cock disappear into Ivo’s mouth as he bobbed up and down. Can he turn his gag reflex on and off?
“‘s so hot,” he slurred aloud. It felt like his thoughts were being rapidly sucked out of his brain through his cock, disappearing down the doctor’s gullet along his precum. His hips stuttered upward, weakly trying to seek out more wet suction. The doctor made a pleased hum around him, vibrations of his throat drawing another shuddering moan out of him. The combination of the fingers in his hole, the vice around his cock and the constant stream of pleasure-pain buzzing spreading down his arms was intense. The doctor looked up to lock eyes with Stone, a glint there promising…something. Stone could make out the doctor making a motion with his one free hand, almost as if he were stroking something phallic.
Stone didn’t remain in the dark for long. He nearly choked as something long and hard filled his airways, spluttering around the foreign object insistently nudging its way down his throat. He blinked through the tears in his eyes, choking yet again when the bright thing began to thrust. The doctor had conjured up some sort of…chaos energy dildo, to enthusiastically fuck Stone’s throat. And, judging by the increasing volume of loud groans from the doctor between his thighs, there was some sort of feeling connection. Well then. In that case—
Stone began enthusiastically sucking at the faux cock, lapping wherever his tongue could press as it eased itself in and out of his throat. “Fuck, Stone,” the doctor growled, drawing off Stone’s dick with a pop. “Your damn mouth is going to be the end of me.” Stone sucked harder in response; he couldn’t grin around the doctor’s cock, but he could damn well show his appreciation. The fingers in his hole ripped themselves away, leaving Stone to choke on a pained moan. “Little cocktease.” Ivo grit his teeth, lining himself up with the agent’s gaping hole. “Let’s see if your other hole can measure up.” And with that, he pressed in.
Stone shrieked, the blunt head of the doctor’s dick sliding deeper and deeper into his body. He swore it was almost bigger, now that the doctor had the emerald. When the doctor’s hips finally rested against his, he wasted no time in pulling back and thrusting in with a wet smack. The dildo followed suit, thrusting its way into his throat. The combined motions punched a wounded sound out of Stone, coming embarrassingly fast at the feeling of being so utterly stuffed. “That’s it, good,” the doctor cooed, wiping tears away from his face. “I know you’ve got a few more in you. Now, you just need to keep sucking in daddy’s cock.”
Stone sobbed, obeying, frantically continuing to suck. The doctor resumed his thrusts, working up to a pounding rhythm that made his balls slap against Stone’s ass with every connection. Stone wasn’t sure which way was up anymore; time seemed to melt into a gooey mush of sensation and pleasure. All he knew was the feeling of Ivo’s cock in his ass, his throat, little jolts of electricity tracing their way over his chest, down his thighs, up to brush against the head of his cock. He was pretty sure he came a second time; he didn’t know for certain. The doctor was panting even harder, thrusts becoming uneven as he finally spilled his load into Stone’s waiting holes.
In an instant, time resumed again. The cock in his mouth disappeared like it had never existed, leaving Stone gaping-mouthed with a sore jaw. His throat felt dry and battered, croaking out a sound that sounded somewhat like “Ivo..”. The man in question had buried his face in Stone’s neck while he rode out the aftershocks, still pumping his hips to chase those last dregs of pleasure. There were teeth in his neck, the pain registering only as soon as Ivo started kissing over the marks he made. “So good,” he murmured, over and over. “Pretty gem, and you’re all mine.”
The restraints were gone in an instant with a cracking sound. Ivo pulled Stone into his arms, laving over the marks on his wrists with obsessive devotion. “Perfection,” Ivo rasped, pressing a line of kisses down Stone’s hand from his pulse point. “Absolute perfection. I didn’t think the human form could ever compete with flawless machinery until I laid eyes on you.”
“You’re…everything,” Stone panted, eyes hot but dry from all the crying. “You’re all I want. Always.” The doctor kissed each worry line away, settling firmly on top of him. “There’s no one else.” He took Stone’s hand in his, spreading the fingers apart and sliding that same ring down until it met the base of his last knuckle. “No one, Aban. Only you.”
The frantic passion slowed into gentle rocking motions, Ivo never once pulling out. Their lips met in an easy glide, softly moving against each other as they continued to languidly pull pleasure from each other over, and over, and over again.
********
Stone couldn’t stop the flow of thoughts in his post-orgasmic honeymoon haze. “Why did you start our…arrangement, if you were so scared of me rejecting you?” he murmured against Robotnik’s cheek, mustache twitching in acknowledgement of the question. He was relishing the skin-on-skin contact, tacky from sweat and tears that practically welded them together where Stone was draped halfway across the doctor’s chest and their legs entangled.
“It’s no secret that I am…unpleasant, to most, both visually and personably.” Ivo eventually said, tracing patterns in the skin of Stone’s back where he’d flung one of his long limbs in the aftermath of their fifth (sixth?) round of lovemaking. “I was under the assumption that you only held interest for the…physical aspect, of our relationship.”
“And you felt confident propositioning me despite your hangups?” Stone couldn’t help teasing, twirling half his mustache around a finger. His entire soul felt so much lighter, fluffy and weightless as a cloud. Robotnik slipped the arm around his back underneath Stone to pull him closer, now chest-to-chest and breathing each other's air. Breathing turned to slow, sweet kisses, a gradual push and pull until the doctor took over and pushed Stone back down again.
“Ready to go again?” Stone said, muffled by the doctor’s mouth and punctuated with a gasp when he took his lower lip in his teeth. “Hm.” The sound of contented bliss rumbled in Robotnik’s chest, reverberating through Stone’s where they were pressed against each other. The manic giddiness and glee from earlier had softened and mellowed into sweet bliss between them, a slow-burning candle opposed to the explosive fireworks from earlier.
The gentle kissing was effortless, the two content to stay submerged in the ocean of sheets and stars around them. Stone groaned when Ivo’s hand brushed against his sensitive dick. He swore there would be bruises everywhere once they finally exhausted themselves to the point they could no longer make love, but damn if it wasn’t the most gratifying feeling; that the doctor would be making equally sore noises of pain come morning, because he simply couldn’t get enough of him. Of Stone. The thought still made the agent giggle giddily, unbidden, breaking Robotnik’s focus from his task of wiping every thought from Stone’s brain with his tongue.
“Sorry, sorry,” Stone kissed the indignant look off Ivo’s face. “Was just thinking—”
“How brave of you,” the doctor deadpanned, leaning down to pull him into yet another mind-melting kiss. “I was thinking,” Stone said with emphasis, struggling to speak against Robotnik’s lips and the fuzz in his brain. “---about how happy you’ve made me.” Robotnik seemed taken aback by that answer, as if he was still expecting a different answer. The light-as-air feeling in Stone’s chest began to fall. “Doctor? Ivo? Are you…”
The doctor leaned over Stone, their noses nearly touching as he braced himself above the agent’s head. He stayed there, breathing heavily, clearly trying to find a way to express…something. Stone was content to sit and wait for him to find the words, admiring Ivo’s body while he did so.
“Exploiting the sexual attraction of another living being is simple,” he finally began. Stone nodded along. “It only takes environmental manipulation and some pheromone misplacement to have any simpleton waiting to get some action.” Stone let the doctor pause, running a delicate touch over his head and down the back of his neck. The contact felt grounding for the both of them, Stone’s heart aching at the doctor’s stormy eyes that refused to look at him. Ivo’s free hand drifted down to hold Stone’s side.
“Feelings are…much more difficult to calculate for. Every time I’ve added myself to the equation, the solution has always been ‘dying alone’.” The fingers on his hips dug in tighter. Stone felt heat prickling behind his eyes, unrelated to the pain in his sides. “I’m well aware that ‘power dynamics’ are a popular component to success in sexual relations. And it was obvious that you were interested in the more…carnal possibilities between us.”
Stone choked on a laugh, bringing his arms around Ivo’s neck and dragging him down to rest on his chest, still shaking with laughter. “Don’t laugh,” Robotnik grumbled, turning his face into Aban’s chest. “I’m not, I’m not,” he wheezed, squeezing the flustered doctor even closer to him. “I think only you would be so brilliant to deduce how much I wanted you without realizing how stupid with love you made me.” Ivo’s face burned even hotter at those last words, surging up to kiss Stone heatedly. “Tell me again,” he demanded, Stone’s laughs turning into breathy sighs and moans as the doctor settled between his legs once more, pinning his wrists above his head with a suggestive jolt of electricity.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you…”
And later, when Robotnik reverently placed a delicate circlet on Stone’s head carved from the same block of emerald as the ring on his finger, looking down at the earth from the lap of the world (and soon-to-be universal) emperor, he had no doubt that there was no other human being that would ever come as close as he to his god.