Chapter Text
Amy Rose lay in bed, eyelids fighting a losing battle against the morning light stabbing through the window blinds, and tried not to admit that she was awake. The power of a cosmic ball of flame somehow proved superior to one sleepy hedgehog, however, and she finally opened her eyes with a groan, echoed by the still-slumbering lump next to her.
Shadow the Hedgehog stared back at her with an unreadable side-eye from the picture frame on the bedside table. Well, not exactly at Amy, actually, but at the white bat hanging off his arm with a smug wink in the selfie she was taking of them.
Amy sighed and rolled over, snuggling up against her sleeping lover, and lay her cheek on the firm pillow of a toned shoulder. It had only been a few weeks now since she and Shadow had officially started dating, and they were still in the process of revealing that relationship to everyone in their – well, mostly her – expansive social circle. But already, Amy was getting sick of a particular response:
“How the heck did you steal him from Rouge?”
It wasn’t always phrased the same, but it was the same essential question everyone had, even if they didn’t ask it aloud. It was driving her crazy, and for more than a few reasons.
Just to start with, the implication that nobody could possibly find Amy even remotely as charming as Rouge. Amy had spent enough of her youth wrestling with jealousy over the older girl’s curves, and still struggled sometimes not to compare her own much more modest build to the bat’s endowments. It made her feel bad about herself, and made Shadow sound like some sort of sexy weathervane, twisting toward whichever girl showed him more cleavage.
People constantly underestimated Shadow as some sort of edgy jerkwad, and as much as that already ticked Amy off, expanding it to edgy jerkwad playboy cheater accelerated her to outright pissed. Shadow was one of the most caring, sensitive people she’d ever had the joy of knowing, but above all else, he was the absolute soul of loyalty. The idea that he would ever betray someone he loved that way was a joke, and anyone laughing at it would be swiftly and definitively introduced to the business end of her hammer.
An unconscious hand wrapped around Amy’s shoulders, pulling her tighter to her lover’s side. She sighed and snuggled deeper into a tuft of white fur, letting some of her frustration escape with her breath.
Maybe it was lingering frustration for her years of fruitlessly chasing Sonic, too. Her fantasy-fueled notions of what romance was had always slotted herself into the heroine’s role in a love triangle whenever Sonic shamelessly flirted with other girls in front of her. But looking back, she couldn’t even accurately call that a love triangle, because Sonic had never been hers to love in the first place. He hadn’t owed her anything for her unreciprocated obsession, and if anything, she had been the bad guy hounding off anyone he was actually interested in. The entire situation was humiliating to look back on, and she was only grateful the comparison hadn’t occurred to her until after she, Shadow, and Rouge had gotten their standings sorted out, or else she might have run away from it all before it ever got off the ground.
Which was really the most frustrating part of all, that it just plain wasn’t true. On, like, any level. And explaining that always led to another question Amy was coming to dread having to walk everyone from her coworkers to her grandma through:
“What’s a ‘throuple’?”
Her lover stirred beneath her, and Amy ran her fingers across the bat’s cheek, eliciting a dreamy sigh of, “Not yet.”
Amy smiled to herself and propped up on one elbow, a better angle to grace Rouge’s lips with a soft kiss. The bat pressed gently back, allowing her head to be pulled off the pillow rather than break contact as Amy sat back up.
Finally opening her eyes as she settled back against the headboard, Rouge hummed softly. “Careful, beautiful, I’m not letting you go home if you get me used to waking up this way.”
“Hmm,” Amy hummed back, drinking Rouge’s unadorned morning self in like a sunrise. Her hair was disheveled, makeup long gone, and she wobbled a little with the weight of sleep trying to call her back down. Amy reached out and took Rouge by the shoulder, pulling her in as Amy flopped backward, dragging her girlfriend on top of her. “You know, threats don’t work if I want them,” she crooned, and took Rouge’s lips again.
Their makeout was just warming up when there was a single, sharp knock at the bedroom door, followed by a call of, “Aren’t you two up yet?” as Shadow entered the room. He wore his black “Death Metal & COOKIES!” apron, had his quills bound up in a short, messy tail, and was making that face that looked like a soul-searing scowl, but Amy had come to recognize as just him pouting. He stopped at the foot of the bed, arms crossed. “Breakfast is getting cold.”
Amy and Rouge sat up, half facing each other, half facing Shadow, and Rouge caught Amy’s eye.
“What was that about threats you actually want, babe?”
Amy answered Rouge’s mischievous grin with her own, and without warning both girls surged up to grab Shadow by the loops of his apron, yanking their boyfriend off his feet and pitching him back into the bed his stupid super biology never needed to occupy as long as they did.
Too surprised to even cry out, Shadow flipped over just in time for Amy and Rouge to pounce on his arms, pinning him down between them. The Ultimate Smoothtalker stared up at them through widened eyes and stammered, “I- I made breakfast.”
“And it’ll be just as delicious as brunch.” Rouge hummed in his ear and twirled her fingers in the tuft of chest fluff peeking out of his apron collar, then turned her dazzling eyes on Amy. “Right, gorgeous?”
“Right!” Amy chirped, cozying up to Shadow’s side and slipping her hand over Rouge’s, entwining their fingers. Rouge squeezed back, and Shadow sighed his surrender by snaking his trapped arms out from under both girls to caress their backs. Amy buried her face in the crook of his neck and sighed happily, still awestruck that both these amazing people were hers. And that, in a funny way, she supposed this was a love triangle of its own kind.
After all, a triangle wasn’t really a triangle until all three points were connected.