sillyfanatic

[sillyfanatic]

Chaos' Coffee 5

Continuation of Shadow's journey towards working at Chaos' Coffee! Writen in Shadow's POV :3

AO3 link!

wc; 1031

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The bruised surface of his locker remained still as he fiddled with the old lock they’d assigned him, its door flung open once he’d unlocked the damned finnicky thing. It was stupid – ridiculous, even. He didn’t need a new job, not now. And besides, did he really want to work under Rouge? Working besides her was tolerable at best, but below her? He wasn’t sure he could bite his tongue enough for that.

He scoffed. It wasn’t even like he had her number anymore – the page of his contact book containing acquaintances beginning with the letter R had been ripped out a long time ago.

Dragging the rough terrycloth through his fur, the hedgehog dried himself slowly, carefully removing the sticky feeling of his sweat. Once dry, he still felt unclean – there was only so much his towel could do, soap and water would need to erase the remaining grime. Despite this unpleasant feeling, he refused to use the grimy public showers of the establishment he so regularly frequented. Shadow had never felt himself to be above a public gym, but he was certainly above public bathing.

Stuffing his gym shoes and dirtied towel in his bag, he donned his leather boots once more. He laced them easily and quickly, the repetitive motion a comfort, and a relief – he could almost feel the wind in his quills already, feel the thrum of his motorcycle underneath him. Perhaps she’d be enough to deviate his thoughts away from the unexpected visit he’d had this morning – driving did always feel somewhat therapeutic to the hedgehog.

Shutting his locker with a force that exceeded necessity, he left, eager to put his morning far behind him.

-

It was only after the drive home and after his shower that he was confronted with his earlier encounter once again. Pulling out his sneakers from his black duffel bag, his attention was suddenly stolen away by a small sliver of paper slipping out onto the ground. It appeared to be a folded post-it, in that obnoxious yellow shade he’d come to loath after working a lifetime of corporate jobs.

He stared at it for a second or two, trying to justify its existence. Picking it up after concluding that he did not remember it at all, he unfolded it. Red irises were quick to read the curly swoops of blue ink inscribed on the paper.

“Just in case you forgot~”

Below the short sentence was a sequence of 10 neatly written numbers and next to them, a little hand-drawn heart.

The note wasn’t signed – it didn’t need to be. He recognized the penmanship, but that wasn’t the biggest giveaway as to who the notes’ author was. Who else would prefer breaking and entering into private property to deliver a note, instead of simply handing it to its’ addressee? Who else would break his boundaries in this way to push him in making a certain decision?

He felt the corners of his mouth ticking upwards as he re-read the note a few times. It was surprisingly hard to not be charmed by Rouge; he’d come to find. In fact, this whole stunt she had pulled was so uniquely her that it made him feel a bit fuzzy inside. A past he’d buried was starting to poke and prod at him in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Shaking his head, he moved to leave the note on the countertop in his kitchen. The neon yellow contrasted brightly with the black marble, in a way that was entirely unpleasant to the eyes. Turning away from it, he took a deep breath. He needed to step away, to reel his feelings back, to rationalize his mind.

There is a reason why things are different now.

The good memories did not erase the bad. He knew this, for he’d lived it one too many times in his years. No matter how much the laughter of an old friend stung his heart, the memory of her betrayal brought a bitterness that overwhelmed it at ever turn. Good memories do not erase the bad. He forced the words to repeat in his head, a familiar loop.

He’d say it until he believed it.

As he moved to shove his old gym attire into the washing machine, he couldn’t help but feel the presence of the note he’d left in the kitchen. Bright yellow and blue, it stood out from his minimal décor and his rather simple colour scheme. It occupied more space than it seemed to, burning at the back of his mind.

If this was ten years ago, you would’ve thrown that thing out and set the trashcan on fire.

Something in his head was shifting, trying to provoke some sort of revelation or change in his ways. Did his own subconscious really not know how stubborn he was? He’d live a lie if he wanted to, there was no changing his mind on it. “Yeah, yeah” he grumbled passively at the berating voice.

He really needed to start seeing a therapist again, didn’t he?

The voice was not entirely wrong, even he had to admit that much. Ten years ago, he would have very much thrown the note out, dumped it into the sea or set it ablaze (among other chaotic options of destruction he’d already employed before to make his problems go away). What sense had he to contemplate the actions he would have taken a decade ago, versus the actions that he took now?

It means he had changed.

Was he capable of such a thing? Was that why the post-it was left relatively intact, and not sitting torn into a million pieces at the bottom of his shredder?

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he felt a significant ache bloom at the front of his head. He had enough to dwell on already, this nonsense was adding fuel to an already dangerously high flame. His anger seethed at the tip of his fingers, concentration wavering as he attempted to accomplish other chores.

It didn’t matter that he’d kept the note, it didn’t mean that he’d changed, that he’d grown soft and weak.

He’d probably throw it out soon anyways.

-

<- previous part

next part ->

-

A/N

this is the first time in my author career (this is a hobby) that i wrote more than one chapter at a time, and it was actually such a genius move. Instead of leaving it at one when I was still inspired, I continued. My chapters feel much more cohesive that way because i didn't wait two years in between writing them!! Also, uploading three days in a row is unforseen... like who is she?? proiud of myself :3

[sillyfanatic]

Chaos' Coffee 4

Sonic finally meets their newest employee - Shadow isn't fond of his new overly-peppy manager.

**For reference; this relationship has a bit of an age gap, I hc Sonic being around 26 and Shadow being around 37 (might tweak these numbers later but yeah!! two consenting adults baby!!!)

AO3 link :3

wc; 3234

-

It wasn’t the screech of his alarm that had woken him up this morning, but rather an abrupt shaking sensation across his shoulders. Cracking an eye open, his bleary eyes could barely make up something orange, fuzzy, and way too close to his face. He attempted to swat the disturbance away, mumbling something along the lines of “go away”.

“Sonic.” A voice came, irritated as though it wasn’t the first time it had spoken that morning. The mention of his name pulled him out of his haze ever so-slightly as he attempted to prop himself on his elbows.

“Tails?” the blurry orange figure was coming into focus now as his other eye opened, adjusting to the dim light of his bedroom. “What time’sit?” he grunted, pulling the alarm clock on his nightstand to face towards him. The bold red numbers almost seemed to scream at him.

6:40 AM

“Oh fuck.” He spat out as he felt his stomach drop.

“Yeah.” His little brother’s tired voice sounded a little clearer now that panic coursed through him – it was his body’s way of springing to action.

“How long has my alarm been going off?!” He practically fell from his bed as he rushed out of it, wincing as he stepped on some wooden chopsticks he’d neglected to throw out for a while now.

“Dunno. Been a while though.” The fox yawned, boredom lacing his expression – or perhaps it was the fact that it was ridiculously early, and he’d gone to bed just a few hours ago. It could’ve been a bit of both – it’s not like the situation was a crazy rare occurrence, in fact, it was far from the first time Sonic had slept through his alarms.

“Sorry little bro!” he threw a simple apology over, hurrying to slip off his two-sizes-too-large shirt that he fondly slept in every night for something more work-appropriate.

“Mhm, have a good day at work.” His brother sighed as he made for the door, leaving a crack in the entrance to allow some light from the hallway to filter into Sonic’s bedroom.

“Thanks!” He yelled out as he put on a pair of weathered jeans to go along with the simple black tee he’d donned. Tail’s response came in the form of a shutting door, but Sonic couldn’t be bothered to do a lecture on etiquette when he was running late for his shift.

He brushed his teeth for a hefty thirty-sum seconds, skipping his beloved breakfast and barely remembering to grab his keys on his way out. It wasn’t long before he was fumbling with the lock of their front door and rushing out to the bus stop that sat just a couple of blocks down from their crummy apartment.

As he ran the few yards that separated him from his transportation, he calculated the consequence of his late morning start. The ride to work usually took about 30 minutes, and it was currently around 6:45 (he never wore a watch on workdays, the risk of damaging it was too great for his liking), so he’d probably be stepping foot in the building around 7:15? He was scheduled for 7:00, so it’d only make him around 15 minutes late (if there were no surprises along the way). Granted, it wasn’t great, but it was much better than a few other sleeping-through-alarms mishaps he’d had in the past.

Basically, he could probably rush through some of his workload and be done on time for the café opening, but it would be preferable if no one knew for now about his little sleep-in.

Sonic managed to catch a bus fairly quickly, scanning his pass faster than he thought possible as he boarded the crowded vehicle. Holding onto one of the metal poles that jutted from the dirty floor, he chose to stand for the ride. He did so for a multitude of reasons:

Really, he wasn’t even sure that there was an available seat, and he was too lazy to bother checking. But most importantly, he heavily doubted his ability to stay awake – if he were to sit down for the half-hour commute, listening to the hum of the motor and the distant voices all while getting gently rocked by the bus… yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. Lastly, he thought standing would give him a time advantage on reaching the doors once his stop came. Granted, it would be a few seconds spared, but hey, it was still something, right?

-

The sun had almost entirely risen by the time the bus made its way to a screeching halt. A quick look at the clock up front flashed the time; 7:18 AM. Off schedule already, and now closer to 20 minutes late.

Damn.

He rushed outside before the bus had even fully stopped moving, pacing down the block and waiting with an incredible amount of patience for the light to turn red so he could cross the busy 4-way lane. He didn’t waste a second – at first sight of that little white hand on the monitor, he bolted across the street, barely looking both ways, hoping people would be sane enough not to run him over. Approaching the shop, he fished for his keys in his pocket, sifting through them to find the right one.

All things considered, he was on track to beat the clock, to be juuust under 20 minutes late.

It was then he saw something unusual – as he lifted his head from his key-fumbling, he noticed a person waiting by the door. Their back was pressed against the large glass panels that made up the façade of chaos’ coffee, their hands casually tucked in their pockets.

Sonic was no stranger to eager patrons waiting outside the shop well before it opened. Though, as he approached, he noted that this person was not a regular, in fact, he didn’t think he’d ever seen him before (and although customer-service tended to melt faces together, Sonic thought he would’ve remembered features like this).

The patron before him was a black hedgehog with a dark brown muzzle; his quills were long, their inky blackness interrupted by a bold streak of scarlet that Sonic could only assume was some kind of dye. He wore a leather jacket and combat boots, the worn leather of them contrasting heavily with the vibe of the rest of his attire. Pleated dark brown dress pants and a crisp white button-up were separated neatly by a leather belt with golden hardware. There wasn’t a wrinkle or a crease in site – unlike Sonic’s own outfit, that had been haphazardly fetched from a pile on the floor and was therefore wrinkled with disuse and lack of proper storage.

Approaching the front door, he fetched his key card alongside the key he already held for the front door (why they needed two measures of security was beyond him, but Rouge seemed to insist on it heavily). He readied himself to run through his scripted apology. Something along the lines of ‘hi there! I’m very sorry but we actually only open at eight, so you’ll have to wait a bit to be served. Gosh, I wish I could change the rules!’.

However, he never even got to start his practiced sentence because as soon as he was in earshot of the other, the supposed customer spoke. “You’re late.” A deep voice, the words slightly raspy in the crisp morning air. The man who’d spoken lifted his eyes then, glaring at Sonic in what could only be described as a scowl. The cobalt hedgehog noted the ruby-coloured irises glaring towards him with curiosity – when had he ever seen a mobian with eyes like that?

Yeah, this guy was definitely new around here.

Still half-asleep, he offered a tired smile; it would certainly not be his last for the day. Ignoring the unexpected statement (which wasn’t necessarily false, but still, were customers going to start reprimanding him now?), the apology rolled off his tongue: “Hi! Actually, we just open at 8, so you’ll have to wait a little bit. I’m very sorry about that.” He put on his sincere-customer-service voice, which was honestly never sincere. Unfortunately, it was a bit too early still and so he ended up sounding a little more condescending than he’d intended.

The man before him reacted plainly, shaking his head in disdain. “I’m Shadow.” He introduced himself, though he did not extend a hand along with his introduction. It was a stated fact, not an introduction or a friendly welcome.

That’s when Sonic woke up very suddenly for the second time that morning, the realization hitting him like a truck. “Oh shit, you’re the new guy, right?” he asked, though it was pretty obvious to him now that this was indeed their newest employee, the one he was supposed to be training this morning.

This Shadow character gave nothing but a curt nod to the question, a look of annoyance plastered on his features. To be fair, he’d probably been waiting twenty minutes outside in the chilly morning air for Sonic’s lazy ass to show up, so for that, he could not really be faulted.

“I’m Sonic, nice to meet you!” he extended a hand and offered a smile that was much more genuine than the last. His outstretched hand earned nothing but a narrowing of crimson eyes.

“You’re the manager?” If he were more familiar with this new guy, he’d say judgment laced his tone as he spoke. Brushing it off, he slid his key card in after unlocking the deadbolt, motioning for the new hire to follow him.

“Yup, that’s me!” The door was locked behind them and the alarm quickly turned off by the press of a few buttons. He made his way to the staff room, looking back to see if he was being followed. The dark hedgehog was indeed walking a few paces behind him, his body language tense and uncomfortable, though Sonic supposed that was normal. Every first shift he’d had, his back was as stiff as a rod – it felt really weird to work a new job for the first time, like you didn’t belong or something. “Lemme show ya around.” He declared as they made their way across tables and chairs, heading for the door behind the counter.

Once in the back of the store, Sonic made quick work of pointing out where the staff room, the kitchen, the pantry, the storage and the mechanical room were before stopping just outside the staff room. “It’s a lot of doors; you might get lost at first. I certainly did.” He chuckled lightly to fill the tension in the air, though his half-laugh really only emphasized the awkward silence that surrounded them.

“I know how to navigate through doors without losing myself.” Came a short response.

“Good for you, then.” His retort was perhaps a little sourer than it should have been – he was in a good mood, really, but this new person seemed to be dead set on changing that. The thing about Sonic was this: he was generally pleasant to be around, and good enough at talking with others. When others were being rude to him (whether that be in his personal life or in his day-to-day life), he found it extremely difficult to bite back his tongue. His instinct was to reciprocate the energy thrown at him: because if someone was unpleasant, negative, or just downright disrespectful, why should he feign a happy-go-lucky attitude? It had never really worked for much, so he liked to meet others where they were and suffer the consequences. Breathing deeply, he reminded himself of how much he liked this job, and how Rouge’s patience towards him would run out eventually if he couldn’t keep himself in check. So, smiling, he pointed towards the last unnamed door. “That’s the owner’s office, Rouge.” Scratching at his neck, he added; “though I’m told the two of you already know each other, right? Old coworkers or something?”

“Somewhat.”

Figuring that was as much of a response as he was going to get, Sonic finally guided them into the staff room where he pointed out a few additional details, before handing Shadow an apron and a key card. “Yeah, you can put your jacket wherever, and uhm, come find me in the café when you’re done settling in, kay?”

He didn’t really wait for a response, mostly because he figured one wouldn’t come. Besides, he’d wasted enough time this morning, and if he wanted to get anything done before the clock struck 8, he needed to haul ass.

The register flashed 7:50 as he powered it on for the day. It was too late to get anything tangible done, in fact, it was barely enough time to prep the machines, to ready some coffee and to take out the pastries. Alas, it was all the time he had, and so he was keen on not wasting it.

It was about five minutes later that his new coworker materialized behind the counter, donning his new apron. It was a light brown canvas material, with copper hardware and thick black straps to adjust it. A simple version of the company’s logo was stitched on the chest in thick brown thread. Sonic had always liked their uniforms (it beat some horrendous ones he’d worn in the past – don’t even get him started on that one red vest from the small grocery store), and he found that it fit Shadow quite well, complementing his clothes as well as his natural features.

“Okay, so.” He began, clasping his hands together rather loudly. It had been a while since he’d trained someone, and besides, everyone was different in the way they learnt, so it’s not like he could refer to past experiences too much. Because they were already wildly behind, and because he was not quite awake yet (despite having two panic wake-up calls today already), Sonic decided it wouldn’t hurt to go simple. He opted to walk the other through the tasks he was doing this morning before they had to unlock the doors. Something that wouldn’t be too intimidating for a first shift.

“Most of this stuff is like, easy to figure out on your own, ya know?” He poured their morning roast into the grinder, setting the machine at a 4.3 “this is the bean we use in the morning, it’s weighed out in 100g portions by the evening shift for us” he waved a little glass container that contained the pre-weighed portions. Turning the grinder on, he waited about 30 seconds before the infernal noise of the machine ceased – seriously, it never got easier to listen to – and then continued yapping. “Usually all of this stuff would be done by like 7:30, so then we can like focus on specific tasks for the day. What with your training and me being… not on time, we’re gonna do things a little differently today, hehe” he laughed off his tardiness with an awkward chuckle.

Fetching a piece of paper on one of the many shelves under their counter, he handed it to the other. “That’s the prep list, just to give you an idea of what would usually go on here. You’ll come to be familiar with it.”

“Hm.” Was Shadow’s only response as the sheet was briefly read and promptly handed back to him, where he tucked neatly in its space.

“So, yeah, I’m gonna open the store and like I guess you can just watch for now and I’ll explain while I do stuff sometimes? I just kinda go with the flow.” He shook his shoulders as he moved away to hoist up the curtains and unlock the door, relieved to not see anyone waiting outside the store quite yet.

“Oh, by the way!” He called out through the space as he made his way back to find Shadow, who was rigidly (and awkwardly) standing near the register. “Almost forgot, what kinda music are ya into?” pulling out his phone, Sonic paired it to the speaker system of the shop, scrolling through his typical playlists. “Rouge lets us play our own music, y’know, as long as it’s café-appropriate and like, just the vibe, I guess? It’s nice.” He offered a warm smile but was met with a blank stare.

“Nothing you wanna hear?” he thrust his phone into the hands of the other, an urge for him to pick something. “I always let the newbies have their music, makes ‘em more comfortable.” He shrugs. Shadow’s nose crunched unpleasantly at the mention of the word “newbies”. It wasn’t long before he handed the phone back to its owner, the latter noticing that it was still opened to the home page of his music-streaming app.

“I don’t know for how long I will be working here.” He starts coldly. “I hope it is brief.” His arms were crossed – the only thing about his posture that appeared to come naturally. “I want this much to be clear,” dark crimson eyes peer into ones of the opposite colour as Sonic bit at his lip distractedly. “I am not here to make friends. Your attempts to get to know me will be met with silence – I have no interest in getting to know you or allowing you into my life. You and I are coworkers, nothing more.”

It was the most words Sonic had heard him say all morning. The confession itself wasn’t exactly shocking, per se, it was pretty obvious by now that this guy wasn’t the type to befriend coworkers. What was more surprising is the fact that he said it at all – most people would let it be subtext. This Shadow person, however, did not seem interested in leaving any room for interpretation.

And all Sonic had done was ask him what type of music he listened to.

The blue hedgehog was tempted to retort very quickly, something along the lines of ‘okay dude, I get it, didn’t plan on being your friend anyways so don’t flatter yourself’ but the chime of the door opening pulled him away from his souring mood as he turned to see their first customer of the day. He was quick to queue up a random playlist of 90s hits before assisting their patron in their order.

It was best to leave the brooding attitude of their new staff member alone – poking the bear wouldn’t result in anything remotely pleasant. Besides, hadn’t Rouge called for Sonic’s patience when it came to Shadow? He was starting to think she had undersold just how much of an attitude this dude had, because he would be needing a lot more than patience to put up with any of this for much longer.

Whatever. He didn’t have to like all his coworkers – they didn’t need to be his friends either. Besides, a new employee just meant that Sonic would finally be able to work a normal 40-hour work week. It would help lessen his fatigue, and that in itself would probably make it much more bearable to be around someone like Shadow. And who knows, after he was done being trained, they could end up being mostly on opposing shifts, having to deal with each-other for a maximum of two hours in a day (or at least, he really hoped it would be this way).

It would get better – he just had to wait a little, that was all.

-

<- previous part

-> following part

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A/N

little gay hedgehogs in my mind.... they don't know it yet but they are soooo gonna fall in love >:3

[sillyfanatic]

Chao's Coffee 3

Hey hey! Here's the third installment of my coffeeshop sonadow AU :3 This chapter dives a little bit into the past, so we can all understand how Shadow came to work at Chaos' Coffee! I know it's been a while since the last updates, so feel free to re-read the previous chapters if needed (they are fairly short and take ~15 minutes to read)

Here is the link on ao3 for the fic

p.s; you might wanna stick around because the following chapters are already written and should be released soon soon :3

wc; 1520

-

Shadow had always considered the shade of blue obnoxious, but today it seemed to frustrate him even more, existing just to spite him.

He shut the navy-coloured locker door rather forcefully, not looking forward to meeting with it again once he was done exercising.

But that would be the least of his concern, as he’d soon come to find out.

The gym had been rather empty, as it usually was Thursday mornings. Shadow avoided the crowds like they were poisonous, because most of them tended to be just that. Besides, a recent... ‘opening’ in his schedule allowed him to navigate around others, passing through mostly unseen by the world around him.

Mostly.

“Well, well, well.” An all too familiar voice tutted behind him, making the hedgehog drop the equipment he was currently handling. He felt an odd sense of dread creeping up his back, his muscles tensing in unease.

Not here, not now, and certainly not her.

But the world hated him, and so it was very much here, and now, and with her that he found himself.

“So what? I don’t get a ‘hello’ anymore?” The words were pointed but the tone was light as always, that familiar airiness that he never knew he’d come to dread.

Slowly, he willed his body to turn around, forcing his features into a neutral scowl. Rouge was too talented at reading people, and it had always made him uneasy the way she could sense his emotions before he could even categorize them himself. In her presence, he tried his best to seem normal, bored, unsurprised, anything really – whatever would distract her from the mess he currently was.

“Hello, Rouge.” He granted her wishes. She smiled so sweetly at the greeting, undoubtedly content that her not-so subtle request hadn’t been ignored. She was wearing a two-piece yoga set, the colour a dark purple that went well with her white fur. Her hair was pushed into a messy updo, strands coming down to frame her big green eyes. She wore thin rectangular glasses, a different frame from the time they’d last spoken. He supposed trends had changed over the years, and with them, Rouge’s wardrobe had too. The hedgehog heavily doubted that years, or even decades, would be enough to erase the behaviours that were so ingrained into her personality at this point. Although it was a harsh judgement, it’s one he extended towards himself just as equally.

“Good morning Shadow, how are you faring on this lovely Thursday?” She dragged her vowels on, half-signing her words. At this lilt, Shadow felt the familiar feeling of an age long past creeping through his spine. It was a built in-reflex that had been dormant for a while; awakened once more, it took the form of a whisper in his head, it’s words doubtful and warning in nature.

She’s up to something.

“Fine.” He forced himself to answer her question, knowing well enough that it would be faster to play along with her little games than to even attempt ignoring her. That was a mistake he’d learnt not to make a long time ago.

“Glad to hear it, darling.” She smiled again, but like everything sweet about her, he knew better than to trust it.

Shifting his eyes away from her wanting eyes, he noticed how even though she wore her gym-going attire, her hands were barren. No water bottle, no yoga matt, no towel, no weights. It was unbecoming of someone to show up at the gym empty-handed. There was the possibility that she’d left them unattended at another station when she’d spotted her old friend. Then again, Rouge had never been the type to trust strangers, or to leave her possessions unattended – ever the materialistic one, she wouldn’t dare risk the loss of anything she owned, be it old or new, expensive or cheap (and her things tended to be new and expensive).

Narrowing his eyes, he categorized the information in his head. He’d be smart to be vigilant, and Shadow the Hedgehog was certainly not known for being stupid. Overly cautious, however? Definitely, and to a fault at that.

“What do you want Rouge?” He waved his hand in a tired motion, unable to keep up the small talk any longer. It was gruelling. He lamented this tendency of others to take up his time - just because he had time did not mean he wished to waste it like this. He had far better things to do with his life th an to stand and wait for an old friend to stop pestering him.

“What? Can’t a girl go to the gym?” She feigned innocence, still not budging. In fact, she was attempting to divert the conversation entirely! Shadow had half a mind to roll his eyes in front of her.

“Cut it out, you and I both know you don’t like public gyms. Nor do you like mornings.” An accusatory finger pointed her way as his tone dipped into something rougher, angrier. Their history gave him an advantage over her – knowledge. She couldn’t use the same excuses she used for the fools she swindled, not with him. “So why are you here?” The question was short, his arms crossing against his chest as he observed the woman before him.

“Fine,” she elongated the vowels in a dramatic show of annoyance “I suppose you caught me.” She threw her hands up in the air, in a defeat that was very obviously faked. The hedgehog felt himself holding in a sigh at her theatrics.

She did not speak again for a few moments, almost expecting Shadow to fill the silence (which was a ridiculous notion, even to those who barely knew him.

With no further pushback or questioning, she sighed. “I have somewhat of a… proposition for you.”

“Hmph. How could you have anything of value to offer me?”

“Ouch!” She hung a hand on her hip as she hissed. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“Were.” He emphasised in a warning.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged. “I suppose there are plenty of others looking for a job around this city. In fact, I’m sure someone in this gym would be charmed to hear about a new opportunity. Not only that, but one that’s offering flexible hours and a competitive salary…” She moved to turn, pointing towards a corner of the gym where a swallow was currently training her upper body. “Like her! She seems like a good fit, dontcha think, Shadow?”

The hedgehog didn’t deign look to where she pointed, his scowl focused on the person before him. “You’re offering me a job? That’s your tantalizing offer?” He scoffed, ears twitching in irritation. Rouge should know by now that it was an indication of his patience thinning. If she knew, it did not stop her from continuing her little charade.

“I was, yes.” It was spoken dreamily. Her eyes flitted from the other gym goers to land back onto her old friend. A coy smile pulled at her lips as she tilted her head; “Oh, don’t act so shocked, darling!” Nothing of his body language or tone spoke of surprise. “You should know by now-” Her innocent air made his blood boil “-news travels fast”.

His veins turned to ice as he struggled to keep a neutral expression on his face.

By God - If there was anyone he didn’t want informed about his recent re-adjustments, it was her.

He had half a mind to bark back an insult, to escalate what was an innocent conversation into something much more volatile. His fingers tensed – he could not bite his tongue for much longer or it would certainly start to bleed. Before he could give into his urges, however, she made the decision for him. “Anywho, it was lovely catching up with you, handsome.” He hated the way she could deliver heavy news in such a casual manner. What he hated even more was the way she crossed the space between them, wrapping a velvet clad hand to squeeze at a tense ebony shoulder. “I’m giving you until Monday to decide.” She spoke lowly now that she was closer – why did it almost sound like a threat? “You have my number.” With a wink and a sultry smile, she was gone.

Shadow stared at her disappearing form, and then at the door she exited through (which, mind you, was labeled in big letters ‘NOT AN EXIT – ALARM WILL SOUND’). No alarm rang, but it didn’t matter, because as he seethed in his anger, his ears boiled with such intensity that they began to ring.

It was only after several minutes of quiet immobility that he was able to will himself to move again, huffing and mumbling insults under his breath.

Begrudgingly, he started his routine, shifting the overwhelming heaviness of his emotions into his workout as an ill-fated attempt to rid himself of them. As the first beads of sweat began rolling down his too-tense back, he couldn’t help but entertain the idea of a new career.

It would certainly be a new beginning – and he found himself in dire need of one.

-

<- previous part

following part ->

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A/N

Would this really be a myr author's note if i didn't point out the fact that i haven't written any additions to this fic in TWO! YEARS! time flies, truly. I lowkey underestimated how exhausting it would be to work as a barista just to come home and write about beinf a barista lol,,

Anywho, super excited to dive back into this au! thank you to those who decide to join me along in the ride~

[sillyfanatic]

sonic and tails yayy wait..whats that… im scared…..

[sillyfanatic]

okay so I wrote the next installment of Chao’s Coffee (my coffee shop sonadow au) and I’m super pleased with it! I’ve decided to cut the chapters with short ones that give just like an idea of Shadow’s POV and how he ended up working at the coffee shop in the first place. Next released chapter (once I correct it) should be just that: exploring the event that started all of it. The little shadow sections are relatively short for now, like barely 1000 words but I really like them and think they lay some delicious breadcrumbs for the lore of this universe! The chapter after that is sooooo good, it’s shadow and sonic meeting for the first time aghdhshshdbd I love them so much. So yeah wrote about 5500 words total, most likely split into 4 segments! Only reason I’m stopping my writing is because I’m literally passing out lolol, other than that I actually really feel like continuing to write which is such a nice and warm feeling 🩷 okay it IS the summer and I don’t work too much so I’ll probably get the correction of these chapters done soon enough :3

[sillyfanatic]

guess who grinded 4 chapters ….,, I mean they’re really short chapters but still!! Lot of story advancements YIIIPPPEEEE :3 The bigger chapters are gonna come once everything is really established and we can get into the meat of things teeeheeee

[sillyfanatic]

the itch….. the itch to write sappy sonadow fics….. oughhhhh the itch is strong…

[sillyfanatic]

🐎🍂

[sillyfanatic]

Skating Shadow! 🛼

[sillyfanatic]

ASAB (all shadows are beautiful)

[sillyfanatic]

I can't stop drawing incredibly self indulgent stuff help mi

💨

[sillyfanatic]

hc that shadow’s favourite colour is green, not because of Sonic’s eyes (but he does find them more charming since they are his favourite colour), but because in the Ark, there was no green. There were several shades of grey, white and beige. The void of space was black, navy blue, purple, with hints of colour sprinkled throughout. The clothes were brown, the labs were sterile - Maria brought the most colour into his life, in pale shades of baby blue that he could love. It was the first time he stepped on earth - she was a colourful planet, yes, and she wore so much green. Oceans were beautiful, sunsets were magical - but the grass, the trees and the plants were what he gravitated towards. It was a colour he’d been robbed of, and seeing it in abundance and in living things no less - that’s when Shadow decided he loved green more than any other colour.

[sillyfanatic]

Hi, I am starting to post here ✨

[sillyfanatic]

Ryo Takemasa "Railbus through Rice Fields" (2022)

武政 諒

[sillyfanatic]

shadow doodles

[sillyfanatic]

Hi everyone! The user @theoossoowa has translated my sonadow fic “Touch Starved” into Russian :3 if you or someone you know is more comfortable reading in Russian, you can access the translation here!

Please note that since I cannot read Russian, I am not able verify this translation myself - so there might be slight adjustments made by the user (which makes sense when translating) that I am not aware of. Of course, all credit for the original version goes to me, as they point out in the translation!!

Anyways I think this is really cool, reaching a wider audience is awesome and I’m glad someone cared enough about the words I wrote to translate them! Makes me wonder if I should write some versions in French (since it is my native language). That’s all I had to say!

[sillyfanatic]

A strange bond (6)

Wowow two years since the last update? how very on brand for me.. My apologies to anyone who has to re-read this fic because of how long it has been since the last update, I seriously did not think it would take me this long to get in the groove again!

That being said, I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I look forward to what comes next, and I'm excited to start wrapping up this lovely little adventure with all of you!

read it on ao3 here!!

(wc; 5688)

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Lancelot was thankful to have recovered from his cold quickly enough. Being bedridden did not suit his interests; he found the lack of fresh air and the restriction of his freedom to be suffocating. Soon enough, the blankets had begun to feel itchy, the pillow lumpy and uncomfortable. The air in his room felt stuffy with his overstayed rest, yet he was no warmer from it.

He’d realized, to his dismay, that his quarters did not smell of home or familiarity. Rather, they smelt of wet stone and old carpets, a scent that did very little to appease him.

Once the nurse had given him the permission to return to his duty, Lancelot was all too eager to separate himself from his bed. His place of rest had been tainted with this tension that he could not easily rid himself of. This malaise softened the idea of his return to work, his hands and feet restless as he moved to dress himself for the first time in days.

Mostly, his eagerness to reunite with his workload revolved around Arthur. In being able to see him again, to touch him again.

The king hadn’t been able to visit since the last time they’d seen each other. The cold he’d caught (and had subsequently given to Lancelot) had made him fall behind in his duties, his already overwhelming workload seemingly doubling in the matter of a few days. Despite all the efforts of the castle’s higher-ranking staff, there were verdicts, concerns, and a whole lot of paperwork that they simply did not have the authority to take on.

And so, the familiarity of old routines fell upon the two hedgehogs once more. Arthur was lazily draped on his throne for most of his days and rather overwhelmed by paperwork late into his evenings. Lancelot stood by his king’s side when his duties allowed him so, his posture firm, his nonchalant expression hidden behind his visor. Still, he felt his hands thrum with a longing, having to stretch his fingers out before they attempted to guide him towards his love.

It was in Lancelot’s nature to feel relief in routines, in certainties. He’d had a history of preferring ‘how things were’ regardless of whether they’d benefitted him more or less than the change.

And yet, this time around, the regularity felt less like a warm hug and more like a tight grip around his neck, threatening to squeeze him just so – enough to make him suffocate.

Yes, there was relief in being out of his quarters, but there was something different, something overwhelming about this return.

It felt as though his heart had grown three-fold, and with it, the longing he held for Arthur. He’d yearned before, yes, but he’d been satisfied with the other man’s mere presence. Now, however, that same presence felt like an itch under his very skin – it reminded him of what he could have, what he could feel. Soft touches, stolen kisses. He craved them now. If it made him selfish, if it distracted him, then it was a bad thing. Selfish? A knight? His entire purpose was to serve as a disposable body, one that could bravely defend the kingdom and its ruler, but one that would ultimately be replaced, should age slow down his movements or should death welcome him in. Distraction was frowned upon as well – fractions of a second lost to foolish desires could cost the kingdom its life, he’d been taught.

Knowing this, still he stood there, wanting nothing more than to feel Arthur’s lips upon his once more. He was starting to become everything he’d been taught not to be – tendencies repressed, personalities changed to fit into a certain mold. Years, a lifetime of noble pursuit, and…

And he was learning that love was complex.

The meetings dragged on longer than ever, the days bleeding into one another as if it were some sort of joke the universe placed upon him. In the evenings, when he tossed and turned on his mattress, he wondered how he could be so happy and yet feel so unfulfilled. The contradictory emotions rendered him nauseous.

This day felt no different. His back was pressed against the cold stone of the castle walls, his very presence tethered to the material feeling, as to not drift away to another world. He’d given up on keeping track of the conversation long ago. He was content in eyeing Arthur as some of his council members talked hurriedly around him, the king frowning lightly as he responded, seemingly bothered by the subject matter. The round oak-wood table was full of councilmen and nobles, their voices filtered out by the buzz in the knight’s ears.

He was too busy cataloguing every move Arthur made, observing the way his features scrunched and pull, noting most of his expressions veered towards negative emotions rather than pleasant ones. God, Lancelot could not help but think, why does he look so good when he seems focused? There was a pinch in his brow, lips caught in a neutral frown. His cheeks were flushed with the warmth of the room, adding colour to his royal fur. It was a stern look that betrayed his light personality, and yet it felt genuine. This was Arthur in his element, this was a King with subjects and duties, one that was willing to sacrifice every facet of his own well-being for the peace of his kingdom. He’d do it without needing to be asked – really, he’d been doing it for years now.

His eyes were tired, his motions lazy in the late evening, but the black hedgehog could still not help the way his heart leapt when the other’s eyes grazed over him. He smiled so softly, so briefly, yet it was already cemented in Lancelot’s memory; a thought that could warm him, even in the coldest of nights.

It wasn’t until he heard his own name that his attention was pulled to the conversation, seemingly for the first time that night.

“Yes, and Sir Lancelot will accompany you as you requested, my Lord.” Arthur’s eyes shifted as he nodded, pulling his focus towards the older noble sat to his right.

“Excellent, and the preparations regarding supplies and accommodations?” He leaned his head in his hands as he spoke.

“Yes sire, all should be in order. A messenger arrived today with their response; as it were, they are currently arranging a room for you and your knight. The preparations have been going smoothly, and all should be ready for your departure tomorrow, your highness.”

The knight felt lost – who were the mobians the council was discusing, what was happening tomorrow, and had Arthur requested his presence? He was starting to regret his previous disregard for the conversation.

“Thank you.” Arthur spoke, and just like that, the conversation shifted to an entirely different topic. There were talks of profits and of upcoming harvests, of legalities and additional paperwork, and all matter of things Lancelot did not try to understand. He kept himself as focused as he could, hoping to catch more of the information he’d missed, but before he knew it, the meeting had been concluded, and he’d been dismissed to his own quarters.

Time was the only one who could answer his questions, and she would be peacefully silent until tomorrow. Despite his curiosity and the unfamiliar buzz of excitement (or nerves, he could not tell) sleep found him easily, lulling him into a dreamless rest.

-

The knight made his way to the dining hall first thing the next morning. It wasn’t hunger that’d sent him here eagerly, but rather his curiosity. He weaved rapidly between tables, chairs, and other mobians, ignoring the sweet scents of maple syrup and strawberries as he kept his focus on the captain of the guard – a red echidna he scarcely agreed with. And yet, today, he was happy to see the other man’s face, because it meant he’d get an answer.

Gawain eyed him wearily from where he sat, holding the fork in his hand rather tightly.

“Captain.” He greeted, steadying his breath. The man turned to him, nodding sharply. The two stayed silent a while longer as the knights around them chatted, their awkward silence easily dismissed by everyone. It wasn’t necessarily unknown that the two had a bit of a rougher history - Lancelot liked to question the captain’s decisions, and Gawain never took too kindly to criticism.

“Bit early for assignments, don’t you think?” He grumbled as he tossed a few potatoes around his plate, lazily stabbing them with his fork. The knight let the passive-aggressive comment roll off his shoulders; he’d already expected this kind of response.

“Are they not ready yet, captain?” His tone was perhaps a bit too smug, but he couldn’t help himself. Something about Gawain provoked him, and vice-versa. Sometimes it benefitted them, mostly when it came to besting each other physically. Other times, it wasn’t so useful.

Purple eyes flicked his way in a warning.

“You’re to leave with the King this afternoon.” A bored response. He could feel his heartbeat at the tip of his fingers, excitement bubbling in his chest. “You are to act as his personal guard for the following week.”

Personal guard.

He’d have time alone with Arthur. For an entire week.

Lifting his hand, the captain points his fork ahead of him and slightly eastward. “Sir Percival has more details.” He speaks, returning to his breakfast once he’d done so.

Lancelot granted him a nod as he left to inquire about more details with Sir Percival.

-

He’d grabbed his leather satchel and filled it generously, as Sir Percival had suggested. He’d brought some light linens to sleep in comfortably, since they’d be resting in a private villa, and not on the forest floor. Lancelot very much liked sleeping on the ground, especially when it was under a canopy of trees. The air in the forest smelt fresh and sweet, the scents of pine and grass melting perfectly together. The only thing he disliked about sleeping amongst nature was the vulnerability it placed him in – he slept lightly, aware of every little sound around him. In those moments he was never able to fully relax, his duty to protect the King looming over him.

It surprised him to learn that he was not aiding the king in any quests, but that instead, he’d be accompanying him on a rather leisurely journey. A villa meant freshly made beds, warm hearty meals and private personal quarters – although Lancelot heavily doubted he’d be privy to as much luxury as his sovereign, he still found himself excited.

Lancelot’s heart thrummed heavy in his chest, the pace increasing with every passing hour . A carriage had been arranged for them, a bright white vehicle attached to two cream-coloured horses. A chauffeur sat above them, on a make-shift seat jutting out from the carriage’s exterior.

There were servants bustling around in the courtyard, storing various bags and boxes in compartments hidden cleverly beneath the white façade of their transportation. A man was addressing chauffeur, the both of them pointing southward, conversing with an air of agreeance.

It was early spring by now, and although a cold wind threatened the return of winter, Lancelot found his cheeks warm. It wasn’t the magic within his armour that made him feel so, it was something different, something foreign. He didn’t have much time to question it before he was being inquired about, his possessions hastily tucked away as he still struggled to grasp the situation.

Soon, none of it would matter – Arthur had arrived, and things seemed to be wrapping up just as the king took his first steps into the east courtyard. A few members of the court fussed at his side, undoubtedly tying up loose ends before the king’s departure. The king nodded to a few of their comments, offered a few choice words, but promptly dismissed them as he reached his knight.

His most trusted knight.

His friend.

Lancelot gave a curt bow of his head upon the arrival of his king – keeping up appearances. What the others could not see was the soft smile and rosy cheeks of the brave knight, hidden beneath thin sheets of metal. Arthur gave a small nod in return, but his smile spoke nothing of formalities or politeness, it was wide and easily reached his eyes. Lancelot noted there was an additional mirth in the other’s features, a lightness that made him more endearing than ever before.

The dark hedgehog would be lying if he’d said he wasn’t looking forward to the travel they were about to share. Besides, time alone, away from prying eyes – it was like currency to him. He worked hard for it, and did not dismiss its value.

-

There were two benches inside the carriage, facing each other. They left enough room for tired legs to stretch out comfortably without hitting the passenger that faced them.

These seats were clad in a bright blue fabric, a velour texture that Lancelot envied to feel against his bare fur. On the walls lay a floral wallpaper, its vines climbing up to the ceiling where they were interrupted by a small wrought iron lantern, currently unlit. Windows lining their sides were slightly obscured by sheer yellow curtains, pulled taught in an attempt to give privacy. It was tastefully decorated, this even Lancelot could admit. But what was most admirable was that its appeal to the eyes did not compromise its comfortability. In fact, the knight could barely feel the bumps in the dirt road as they trod rapidly through the countryside – he could not recall ever travelling so well before.

As Lancelot looked around in slight awe, helmet discarded besides him, he caught the eye of his friend. The cobalt hedgehog eyed him fondly, unphased by the luxury that surrounded them. He’d grown up with these accommodations, seeing them as nothing more than common, now.

“Do you always travel like this?” He inquired, before adding; “when I’m not by your side, of course.” He knew Arthur did not always travel this way, because he’d been there to witness the king journeying in very different ways – mostly on foot, but sometimes on horseback. Still, those methods of travel paled in comparison to this one.

“God, no.” Came a rather blunt response, though his tone was playful.

He furrowed his brows in question, struggling to see the aversion one might harbour for such a luxurious thing.

“I used to.” He starts, eyes wandering where Lancelot’s had. “Prefer it, that is.”

Humming, the knight replied, “If I may ask; what changed your mind?”

“You did.”

“I did?” Lancelot echoed the statement, taken aback by it.

“Of course you did. Haven’t you noticed how much you have changed me?” Arthur continues, his smile soft and caring. Sighing, he glimpses at the passing trees outside their window. Cedar, pine, cedar, cedar, oak. The forest whisked far away from them as they sat. “I used to prefer travelling this way, and I would’ve been a fool not to. It’s faster, more accommodating. You can bring God-knows how much luggage with you, wherever it is you are heading.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed. It’s quite the feeling.” He notes as the trees are slowly but surely replaced by a meadow, green grassy fields painting their view. With this, the king turns his sights on his knight again.

“But something changed when you and I started travelling in different ways. I’d never experienced it before. You made me discover something new, which is a rarity for me, you know?” Lancelot nods. Yes, he does know. He knows that as much as the idea of a king evokes freedom, the reality is much different. Arthur, not unlike his predecessors, is more bound by the throne than simply loyal to it. This is not to say that his rule is disingenuous! Lancelot would threaten anyone who dared think so. Arthur’s heart was very much in the right place, but it did not change the fact that he was born into this role, like his father and his father before him. Whereas Lancelot had decided to dedicate himself to a life of undying loyalty and servitude, Arthur could never have decided to be anything other than what his blood declared him – a royal man. “There was something so foreign about aching feet, about the taste of fresh spring waters, and about the smell of grass upon a dewy sunrise… foreign it may have been, but welcoming nonetheless. It even began to feel familiar, you know? Like home, somehow.”

The knight stayed silent for a moment.

Of course, he knew – he’d known for a long time. He’d felt the call of mother nature throughout the years of his adult life, a call that left him yearning for more of her, always more. It was never enough.

Standing, he opted to sit besides his friend now – this was more informal, warmer, and so it felt appropriate for the conversation. With his movements, the other shifted too, angling himself to face him properly. Arthur’s hands, carefully folded within his lap, were soon enough covered by metal.

“Of course.” He smiles warmly, fangs poking at the skin bellow. “Of course I understand.” It was spoken in a soothing voice.

“You do?” There’s a smidgeon of doubt in his voice, and Lancelot finds himself wanting to kiss it away.

Nodding, he allows his left thumb to start rubbing small circles into the soft fabric of his lover’s gloves. “I have longed… for weeks now. Longed for travel, travel by your side.” He admits rather quietly. “I’ve always felt at home around trees and lakes, under snow and rain. But with you, Arthur...?” He breathes in shakily, leaning forward into their shared space to bump their foreheads together. He feels his throat tightening under the weight of emotions, the taste of confessions lining his tongue – and he finds himself unafraid to think them now, to allow them a space to exist in his mind.

But he does not speak them here – instead, he clings to them for a little longer.

Chuckling softly, he moves to press a soft kiss on cobalt fur – a chaste brush of his lips against the other’s cheeks. When he parts away, emerald eyes peer into him. They’re a bit cloudy, as his surely are.

They don’t breathe another word for a while, ears flushed and hearts thrumming as the carriage brings them far away from their home.

-

The Villa is bigger than he’d expected; an imposing building composed mostly of red bricks; it’s burnt orange façade temporarily interrupted by massive circular pillars made of white stone. There was a sort of order to the building, as though every piece had been placed purposefully. It differed from the castle, whom with its many additions and renovations over the years had ended up being a clash between many styles, materials, and centuries. He’d inquire about the history of the building to Arthur at a later hour, when he did not risk making a fool of himself in front of their host.

Their host was a small grey hedgehog that looked no older than a young adult (that is, if he was not still a teenager). His style seemed at odds with that of his estate: it was simpler, and much less grandiose. Dark grey cloth wrapped around young shoulders in the form of a simple two-piece suit, a style that looked unfamiliar to the knight.

This mysterious host greeted them rather personally, sharing a warm embrace with Arthur as soon as the two were close enough to do so. Lancelot stood quietly behind his king as the embrace morphed into pleasantries, opting to observe the world around them. They were in some sort of courtyard, or perhaps an entrance to the villa, paved with the same sort of white stone that made up the pillars that surrounded them. A few mobians (presumably servants, or perhaps staff from the villa) walked about, fussing with their newly arrived carriage.

“Sir Galahad,” The king declared rather loudly, roping the black hedgehog back into the flow of the conversation. So, Galahad is the name of this young lad, then? The others turned to him then, as Arthur continued to speak; “It would be my great honour to introduce you to my knight, to my personal guard, but most importantly - to my most trusted friend. Sir Lancelot.” The silver hedgehog extended a slender hand outwards.

“Any friend of Arthur’s is a friend of mine.” He spoke fondly as the knight met his hand, firmly shaking it.

Friend?

Yes, that was certain, they were friends – more than – but to be introduced as such… was oddly enticing.

Sir Galahad was quick to offer a tour around the estate to Lancelot, joking that Arthur did not need such a thing as he gently elbowed the man. The two laughed together as they began walking around the carefully manicured grounds – Lancelot was quick to follow in their footsteps, leaving his belongings behind to be handled and safely tucked away (yet another unfamiliar luxury).

The best word to describe this sentiment was this: it all felt foreign. Here, people treated him with as much (if not a little less) respect as they did with Arthur. There were strange luxuries, ones he’d never even drempt of being offered. Yet a stark contrast to this was the way this new aquaintannce held himself. This Sir Galahad felt so casual- with him, there were barely any formalities, instead, there seemed to be friendship, fondness. The two men walking before him conversed with ease, their tones longing and reminiscent. This too, was odd. Lancelot could not recall a time where Arthur had ever behaved in this way: so naturally, so effortlessly. He could not help but feel his heart swell with warmth, observing the man he loved carrying himself with such ease, the previous tension pinching his shoulders now replaced by the shake of laughter. It was a sight he’d commit to memory.

It all made him wonder what this week might be like: would there be more moments like these? More moments like the one they’d shared in the carriage, early in their journey?

His heart fluttered at the mere thought.

-

“And here, you’ll find your chambers. I thought it appropriate to finish our little visit here.” The three hedgehogs stood before ornate wooden doors encased in concrete arches. He’d found the courage to inquire about the materials and learnt that they had not been a stone at all. It was a hardened mixture that replicated the feel of stone, while allowing artisans more flexibility. Their host had been eager to inform them about this strange technology, going on about how the invention had revolutionized architecture as they knew it, centuries ago. Lancelot found himself rather interested in this spontaneous learning opportunity.

Arthur thanked his friend along with a polite nod. “Your stay is more than welcomed here. It is the least I could do for an old friend.” Their host nods back in a similar manner. “Please, if there should be anything you desire, do not hesitate to call upon me.”

Sir Galahad bid them a temporary farewell, leaving his guests alone to be settled in after their long journey.

Arthur made for the wooden doors, Lancelot, however, hesitated besides them. He’d noted the absence of another door at the end of this small corridor – perhaps their host had forgotten to show him where he’d be resting? Turning around, he sought to capture the attention of Sir Galahad, only to find that the man had already disappeared.

“Something the matter?” Arthur had one hand on the doors, pushing them slightly ajar. The other hand reached out towards his friend, firmly grasping at his armor-clad forearm. The dark hedgehog shifted with the touch, shaking his head.

“Not at all.” He reassured. “I was simply wondering where my quarters are located – I am sure someone will know the answer. I shall attempt to fetch a maid, had we not seen one watering flowers around the corner?” His attempt to walk away was interrupted by the hand on his arm, tightening in an effort to hold him back – it worked. “My liege?” He inquired.

“Oh, Lance.” Arthur spoke, laughing softly.

Oh goodness – had he missed something? He did not share in the cobalt hedgehog’s laugh as he racked his brain for an answer. Perhaps, he’d missed the introduction of his quarters during the tour? This seemed unlikely, given that he’d made sure not to get distracted during their walk, not wanting to seem rude or ignorant in front of their host. As he tried to recall a lapse in his memory, his friend’s laughter quieted, leaving naught but a sheepish smile on his features.

“Your room is here.”

“Here?” Surely not – there were only two doors and they both led to luxurious accommodations beyond his status. “Pardon me, Arthur, but where will you stay if-“

“Here.” He interrupted again, pushing against the wood and dragging Lancelot alongside him.

“Here?” He was starting to sound really daft, but it was beyond him at this point.

“Forgive me for being presumptuous,” Arthur began, continuing to pull his friend as they took their conversation out of the hallway and into the room. “I thought you’d enjoy it if you and I could… share. A room, that is.”

“Oh.” He mumbled softly as the proposition fell on him.

“If it’s not to your liking, I can arrange for separate quarters to be prepared, it’s no issue.” He spoke rapidly, a bit nervously. “Understand that I would never expect anything of you, Lance.” Arthur’s hand reached out to squeeze his own warmly – a sign of trust.

“No!” The knight blurts out rather unceremoniously.

“No…?” The king questions, his hand twitching.

“I don’t wish to stay anywhere else.” He elaborates, squeezing the other’s still trembling hand. “If you want me – if you will have me, I am yours.” He reassured, soft smile lacing his features.

“Oh!” Arthur breathed a sigh or relief before throwing himself onto the other in a tight embrace, almost pushing them to the floor with the force of his embrace. His arms found their way around the dark hedgehog’s neck, his head following them to burry itself in the warm, soft fur. The suddenness freezes Lancelot for a moment, but the warmth of another body manages to ground him quickly enough. His arms wrap around a firm waist, fingers tracing cloth-covered skin as he mimicked his lover’s movements – burying his muzzle in cobalt fur. “It is very unlike me to be presumptuous in this way. I do not like it, you know?” The soft voice tickles the exposed skin of his neck. “Thank you.”

-

Dinner is served later in the evening. It is a small affair, the exhaustion of a day’s travel still apparent on the guests of the villa. Following their meal, Galahad invited them for a stroll along the gardens, an invitation they gladly acquiesce. There is comfort in the familiarity of a darkening blue sky and the smell of the trees that surround them. The silver hedgehog converses with Arthur, the old friends informing one another of their comings and goings since their last encounter. Lancelot chimes in here and there, preferring to remain quiet. He spoke mostly when he was spoken to, content in listening when he wasn’t called upon.

It is only when the sun sets past the trees and when the wind’s bight grows colder that they retire to their separate quarters for the night. Entering Arthur’s room – their room – Lancelot takes time to properly take in the space. A white-stoned fireplace (fire already blazing in its hearth) stands tall in the center of the left wall, above it rests a floral painting encased in a golden frame. The floor is far from bare, its surface decorated with lavish carpets, ample seating, and a gorgeous canopy bed draped in light purple fabric. The décor is sweet and light, unlike the grand regal style Lancelot is most used to seeing (the one used throughout the castle, of course). It’s different, it’s fresh – like most things here it is a change, a welcomed one.

In the fading evening the unpack their belongings, Arthur introducing different facets of the room as they did so. He points out dressers, nightstands, and a small door tucked away in the right corner of their room. This door, he explained, led to a private bathroom – it was a luxury Lancelot had never been privy to.

The way the blue hedgehog navigated the room, the way he guided the other through the unfamiliar space – it spoke of familiarity. It was not the first time he’d stayed here.

Arthur had settled into his nightwear quickly; a pair of pants and a simple shirt composed of red-dyed cotton. He settled into bed as Lance locked himself in the large bathroom, opting to change himself in privacy. He peeled away the layers of his armour, setting them on a small dresser. He donned his nightly wear – a white nightgown, the fit of which was a little too large for him. He liked it this way, restrictive clothing never seemed to do him any favours. Stepping back into the room, he found himself hesitating besides the bed, quietly observing Arthur as the man read through some sort of document he’d brought with him.

The sound the pages made as they were moved around melted nicely with the crackle of the fire – which was now a bit smaller than it had previously been. There were a few moments of silence before verdant eyes began drifting upwards. “Are you quite alright?” he pondered, discarding his stack of papers onto the small nightstand besides him.

There was a deep inhale before a curt response: “Yes.”

Tilting his head, the other man seemed doubtful. “Come here.” He gently tapped the blankets to the side of him, where there was an empty space. It was truly more than enough room for Lancelot to sit or to lay – it made up more than twice the size of the cot in his quarters at home.

The knight shifted, movements slow in uncertainty as he moved to sit on the edge of “his side” of the bed. Of their bed. He felt the mattress’ weight shifting as Arthur moved to sit besides him.

They breathed in silence for a few beats before his lover spoke softly. “Lance, if you would like another room, it is not too late.” The tone was meant to be reassuring, but instead it sounded a little sad. “I’ve told you; I do not wish to make you uncomfortable. That much would sadden me more than your absence.”

He shook his head. “No, I very much wish to be here with you.” That, he was certain of – he had no fear of Arthur’s closeness, in fact, it had been the only thing on his mind for weeks now. He’d been craving it too much to even imagine fearing it now – no, it could not be that.

“What is it then? Whatever the trouble is, please allow me to make it go away.”

“I’m not…” He bit his lip. “I’m not always great at sleeping in different spaces, you know?” He sighs softly, fidgeting with his hands in his lap as his eyes are kept down. “With the outdoors it’s different, I think. When we journey outside of carriages and villas, that’s normal for me, I suppose. But I’ve always had trouble acclimating to other spaces. The light is different, the scent in the air is different, it’s all just… a bit jarring, for me.”

“If you want, we could return home first thing tomorrow. I’m sure Galahad would understand- “

Lance cuts him off then, turning to look into his eyes. “No! No, I want to be here.” A blue hand strokes the soft fur of his muzzle, the touch a delicate encouragement to keep talking. “It’s just, I wanted to warn you, I wanted you to be aware. The first night spent in an unfamiliar environment is not easy for me, that’s all.”

“Oh, Lance.” It’s a breathy voice, one that agitates the butterflies in his stomach. “You are of no burden to me, this much you should know.” He leans into the hand that still holds his head. “I understand how something like this can be jarring. In fact, I find that I am only acclimated to it because was forced to be – I used to feel the same way as you do now.”

“You did?”

“Absolutely.” He chuckles softly. “The first time my parents brought me here…” He hesitates, softly shaking his head.  “Well, I suppose it’s a story for another time. I would not wish to worry you before bed.”

Lancelot nods carefully, melting into his friend’s ever-lasting hold on him, tethering himself to the one thing in the room he wasn’t estranged to – Arthur.

“Come.” The king beckoned him further into the mattress, where he half-forced, half gently coaxed his knight into laying down against him. He pulled the blankets tightly over their bodies as the dark hedgehog nuzzled his nose into the other’s chest – a vulnerable move that made Arthur’s heartbeat speed up tenfold.

He removed his gloves, hands now bare as they ran through black quills. It was a repetitive motion that he’d be ready to do for hours, so long as it should sooth his friend. “Lance?” He asked as the firelight dimmed around them.

“Mhm?” Came a muffled response, the vibrations of which tickled his ribs.

“Anytime you feel scared or anxious, I want you to wake me up, alright?”

“Mm.” Came a tired agreement.

The royal hedgehog closed his eyes but kept his steady petting of the other’s quills. Tired, he revelled in the warmth of his knight, his friend, his beloved. As he drifted off to sleep, he could not help the excitement bubbling in his chest as he thought of the following days, or most importantly, what he had planned for them.

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A/N

Comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome and appreciated but never demanded or expected!!

It's been a while since i've rambled on here! It's been almost one year since i've uploaded anything, and two years since i've taken care of this fic specifically. Being a full time student who works one shift during the weekend is not without its challenges, and i've found myself too tired on my only day off to even think about writing for months now. One of my goals for the new year was to spend more time writing, but it is kind of one of those things that i can't really force, so i'm just happy i was able to do it recently <3

So, yeah! I guess happy new year from me (in april), and hopefully it'll be the year of many more chapters! I'm sure there are a lot of new folks in the fandom since the sonic movie 3 and so if you are new here welcome welcome!!!! Enjoy gay hedgehogs <333

Byebye for now, hopefully we will not be seeing each other in another two years!