Archive of Our Own

Slumber is a boon one treasures as they grow older. Nothing is sweeter than the lull of the siren song Hypnos plays on his lyre as he lures you into his domain. Only to let you go once the spell wears off, but always there, waiting for the next time your eyes close and your breath grows shallow. One day, it will not be him waiting for you, but his older brother— there to guide you to the afterlife. Your hand filled with coins to pay for the ferrymen, lest you be left on the shore staring at the murky waters of the dead. Forever unable to rest, cursing the lack of foresight for pocket change.

Shadow has no such sleepy luck, as he is despised by the brothers of eternal rest. His arms lay on top of the ironed sheets, the blanket drawn to his chest. It is odd for a hedgehog to sleep on his back, as their quills can pierce through bedding without mercy. But Shadow practised relaxing his quills for more than a lifetime, as accidentally nicking Maria in her sleep on one of the few times he was allowed to have a sleepover with her was not an option. Shadow revels in the power to control his body to such an extent. His body may be a weapon, but only at his disposal.

He stares at the ceiling, blinking as the darkness stays the same. The only sliver of light comes from outside. Sonic and the rest of the household put up dim guiding lights for those scared of the dark. Though Shadow is aware Sonic had his ulterior motives, seeing as, like any other Mobian hedgehog, possesses severe night blindness. Shadow is still surprised Sonic has not gotten hurt despite his species' lousy eyesight, as judging distances is essential when going faster than the speed of sound. Amy at least wears glasses from time to time, using them for reading or applying contacts for busier days.

Not Shadow, though. He has always been an exception to the norm. As much as people compare him and Sonic, they are like day and night. Sonic is born to leap in the sun, a youthful chrysanthemum basking underneath Mother Nature's love. However, Shadow was born in Green Heu of oxygenated water. A creature made from something so atrocious to bring prosperity, shifting sin into virtue. Yet his true purpose was abandoned before the research could come true. For he was ready, but the world was not prepared for him. 

The darkness suits him better, even if he wishes to leave the past behind and its atrocities—the light burns too bright. He learned not to shy away, and he will overcome it with patience, even if it hurts. 

Shadow twiddles his fingers, sighing as he looks down at himself—his posture straight and scientifically healthy—as he was taught. Sonic calls his sleeping position the 'open casket' every night, with his hands laid on top of each other as if holding flowers and awaiting death. But at least he does not sleep like a fucked up pretzel and snores like an old man. 

Shadow glances at his boyfriend, sleeping soundly beside him. Even after a year, the word 'boyfriend' seems alien to him. It does not contain the magnitude of everything they went through together nor Shadow's immense adoration for Sonic. It sounds so silly, as if they are teenagers giggling under their breath, going out to bars and ordering milkshakes with nickels and dies instead of modern bank cards and mobile telephones. Jamming up the jukebox to its highest setting and dancing the afternoon away, matching every beat and each step so heavenly and yet challenging. For even as they dance, it is a battle. They might be together, but Shadow values their friendship and rivalry above their romantic feelings for each other. Without it, their partnership would be null and void. He would want nothing of it. Love is all-encompassing; it needs all the ingredients to be a satisfying meal.

Shadow envisions it, him and Sonic dancing to the music Gerald and Maria used to adore onboard the Ark—reminiscing the movies he watched in black and white and how things seemed so simple back then. Shadow knew they were fantasies and that such frivolous love was never meant for him. But back then, for a little while, he could pretend he was like the people on earth, without a worry in their heads but who to ask out for prom or if they would score high enough on the next test.

Sonic would call him old, jokingly, but still indulge him. Sonic's dancing style could be more graceful, and Shadow doubts he could convince Sonic to take ballroom classes with him if he ever gathered the courage to be vulnerable enough to ask. But Shadow loves Sonic for his uniqueness, and if that is breakdancing to Elvis Presley in the middle of a diner, then Shadow will take it. They treat each other to food and sweets enough. Shadow hardly minds their outings getting rowdy. Their best dates were the ones they worked side by side, fighting to keep this world's citizens safe another day.

But lover… that does not feel right either. It is too serious and too committal of a term for the freedom-loving Sonic. To be fair to him. Shadow muses, tracing the light illuminating Sonic's form with his eyes—barely visible in the darkness of a new moon. Shadow sees every inch, every particle, and every spine that makes up Sonic. Sonic is a lot more responsible than he first may appear. 

Sonic raised Tails since he found them, and although his caretaking methods are lax and orthodox, they clearly worked with what a well-adjusted fox Miles Prower is despite all the danger and stimuli they are subjected to. When Sonic commits to his endeavours, he throws himself into it—even if he has the knack of getting into trouble bigger than his britches.

Sonic grew a lot, and although he can still be so infuriating, Shadow discovered that dating someone so spontaneous just comes with it. And a little annoying at times. At least it is a little endearing now. Shadow recalls how often he wanted to punch the blue blur in the face. Now, it is more like a trickle of annoyance, and when it gets awful—they spar it out with no hard feelings attached. It certainly has made letting out steam easier. 

Shadow chuckles, remembering his victories against Sonic, who always clamours for a rematch regardless of whether he won. Sonic is considerate despite his carefree attitude—even if he hates losing. Shadow would never have guessed if it were not for how close they grew after the whole Shatterverse shebang. 

Shadow watches the rise of Sonic's body as Sonic's back is turned to him. He snores—loudly. Shadow frowns. Sleep apnea is a grave problem, especially for older men. Sonic is as spry as a Greek hero, of to do some quests before meeting their prophesied doom. But having a congested nose while sleeping is anything but good. Shadow is trained in recognising medical situations; although he focused on children's medicine, his knowledge went further than basic nursing and how to apply wound care. Although modern medicine has made bounds and leaps, the solutions and treatments Shadow was taught are less effective than once thought. He is still trained in medics. He just never got a diploma or recognition for it.

If he gives Sonic medical advice, he would be unsure if Sonic would take him up for it—he is more likely to see it as Shadow trying to rile him up for their daily banter. For as long as Sonic has grown, Sonic is still Sonic, and he can be as perceptive as a mouldy potato.

I'm not getting any closer to sleep like this, Shadow muses, lifting the bedsheets from himself and planting his feet on the floor. He eyes the analogue clock on his bedside, one he brought over the first week after they tried this arrangement out, as this household seems to have an aversion to clocks for some reason.

02:49, almost 3 a.m. Shadow sighs. I might as well make something for myself. He stands up and exits Sonic's bedroom. He does not worry about waking anybody up, least of all Sonic. His dearest rival can sleep through an earthquake with his thick-headedness. As for the home's other residents, they are light sleepers. But it is past midnight; everyone should be asleep.

Nevertheless, Shadow is a warrior, and as much as he has been trained in strength and machinery, he is also a master at stealth. His silent footfalls are the default, as his feet, for once, are not adorned by his handy skates. It makes him slightly clumsy, and he grips the handrailing to go a little tighter than usual—reminded of how devastating falling off a staircase is. One wrong fall and a mortal life is over. Not for Shadow, but the fear is not for himself but for a little girl who would race down the stairs if she felt energetic that day.  But Shadow has walked around this house only in his socks before, and he finds his footing quickly. He heads for the kitchen immediately, having no other business in the living room. 

It is a cosy space, with high ceilings and mismatched couches in front of a large-screen television. Sonic never struck him as someone who watched a lot of TV, and for the longest time, his rival kept televised entertainment to a minimum. He is more likely to find a book to read or go outside and run to places that, for everyday people, would take hours to reach. It shocked Shadow, but Sonic can be pretty introverted and sometimes in need of quietness. It is something they share. Shadow assumed he was sociable as he was outgoing—he was pleasantly wrong.

Shadow beelines for the coffee machine, turning it on as if his life depended on it. Unluckily for him, it is noisy. It was made with love and different parts. It is much better than any product an electronics company could produce that is not a luxury coffee machine. But that is not surprising, seeing which household he currently inhabits. But it is no faster or quieter in producing coffee, regardless of its deliciousness.

Shadow leans against the countertop, arms folded over his chest. He stares at the living room—taking it in as if it is the first time he sees it. The LED TV is new, and Shadow knows why— it is the same reason why there are more couches and cushions in the living room and added chairs on the dining table. Sonic always had the habit of biting more than he could chew—but at least he is living up to his promises—as impulsive as his actions are. 

Shadow snorts, reminded of Sonic's rash decision two years ago in their world's time. Shadow never found out how much time they spent in Paradox Space; for Mobuis and the rest of their universe, only a millisecond had passed. But for him, as agonising as it was waiting in the Void—only a week had gone by. His time spent in the Grim only took a fortnight, maybe.

Shadow stopped keeping track of time after he swung Sonic to safety and got stuck in that pit, fighting off imperfect copies of Sonic as he protected his boyfriend from Nine. Keeping time was not precisely his priority when his erased world and connection to it were in grave danger. Sonic had told him only hours had passed for himself, except when he was stuck in New Yoke for a bit when Nine went power mad, playing peacekeeper between the Eggmans and the rest of the doubles. They spent at least a week or two establishing ground rules and ensuring everyone was cared for. It was a pretty volatile situation that Shadow is glad he was never present for.

The time between dimensions was unstable, and each shatterspace had its own flow of time. For only a few hours in Boscage Maze, it could be a month for New Yoke and vice versa. Until Nine sped up the deteriorating process even more after failing to capture Sonic in No Place. The barrier between the worlds frayed, matching the times and erasing everything inside Paradox Space. It is a fascinating subject, but Shadow had been ready to leave all that in the past if that means they never risk the possibility of that whole fiasco happening again. It is already bad enough that Paradox Space is permanently linked to-

Shadow freezes in his thoughts. Someone approaches, not close enough for a surprise attack but not too far away, that Shadow has the time to grab a weapon. He drops into his stance, fists at the ready, and wonders how he did not notice the intruder sooner. He is the Ulitmate Lifeform; he is supposed to sense threats from miles away before they even become a problem-

A familiar youth drags themself across the living room, shoulders slumped with dark bags underneath their eyes. Shadow recognises them instantly, even in the dark. Despite a similar origin, Nine is too different from Tails ever to be mistaken for the aeroplane-loving kit with their mock shot put up in most airports. 

Shadow relaxes, preparing for an unpleasant interaction. They have never gotten along, and while it was hardly personal initially, it quickly became such once Sonic came into play. However, the lights are not on, and while Nine has night vision, their vision evolved from their feral ancestors, which makes it flawed.

Nine enters the kitchen threshold, and Shadow wrecks his brain on how to breach to Nine that they are not alone. Perhaps any other night, Nine would see him consciously walk away or bolster their pettiness to the max. But from the low posture and exhaustion so clearly written on their face - they think they are alone, and their weariness makes them unalert. 

But Shadow does not get to take action. The beeping from the coffee machine shocks Nine out of their daze. They look up, their eyes unseeing, but their brain reacts faster than the speed of sound. Their mechanical tails unwrap from their standby mode, and the shifting of the metal shoots is as silent as a mouse. Shadow hears Nine's hitched breath and the woosh of the air moving above them. The spikes twitch for only a moment and strike-

Except they don't. Nine recomposes itself. Their tails pull away just before they stab the floorboards or Shadow. They shake their head, rubbing their eyes. Nine takes a moment to make sure it is Shadow standing before them. Shadow knows because the moment it registers, it is not Sonic standing before them or an intruder; they snarl. Although Shadow is sure Nine consideres him an intruder.

"Oh, it's you." Nine has never hidden their contempt for him. Shadow cannot quite say he likes the ornery teen much either—especially after everything they did. Their disdain is as clear as crystal, glaring at him as if he took their most precious possession—only softened by the dredges of fatigue. 

In a very convoluted and twisted way, he did steal from them, but also not, as Sonic is not a possession to be stolen or something of theirs. The devil is in the details.  

Shadow simply grunts. If he does not need to, he will not speak. Nine is one of the most infuriating people he has met, made worse by their brilliance. Usually, those who irritate Shadow are simple-minded, and he tunes them out. He is used to ignoring people. But Nine is creative, and if they feel like Shadow wronged them, they will let him know. And unfortunately for Shadow, his mere presence offends them. 

Nine clicks their tongue and rolls their eyes. They walk past Shadow, their tails coiled into one big tail—a sign that they will not suddenly attack him. Shadow does not worry about getting hurt; pain is but a method to warn him of the body's failings, and with his accelerated healing, the damage never stays long. Shadow does not fear death because it cannot touch him. It is his blessing and a curse. 

Erasure, though, that is one end Shadow never had to consider until he was sucked into that Paradox Prism fiasco. No less because if it were not for Nine, the Shatterverse would not have started to dissolve in the first place. 

Nine pulls open a cupboard, and Shadow recognises it as the cooled drinks cupboard. Sonic and Tails have an odd sense of organisation, but the fox genius invents to suit their lifestyle. So Sonic has his tea cabinet from ethnic places he runs to - even if he must cross the ocean to get the proper green tea he hungers for and a cupboard full of carbonated drinks organised based on the person who drinks them.

Shadow does not know all the foxes well enough to know whose favourite drink is whose. But Tails loves sharp, minty flavours, so they would go for something refreshing rather than sugary. Otherwise, they are lemonades, alcohol-free root beers, no doubt for Sails, and the ones that make his teeth ache: drinks that look more like desserts in a cup.

Nine picks a bright pink milk boba tea with more sugar and syrup than tea. It is not a custom boba tea, so it does not hold as many empty calories, but Shadow still shudders at it, imagining how artificially sweet the tea must be. But that does not stop Nine from removing the plastic wrapping from it and following the instructions on how to make a semi-fresh bubble tea.

Shadow eyes Nine for a moment but turns to his coffee. Nine ignoring Shadow is the best outcome, as usually things go sour very quickly between them. They do not have much to say to each other, and any peace that might have been in the area vanishes like snow before sunlight. Sonic has pleaded for them to find a middle ground, yet neither of them is too keen on making friends with each other. It is already bad enough that Rouge is trying to make Nine the fourth team member of Team Dark. The thought of becoming colleagues with that little prick makes Shadow's spines stand up straight. 

It is not something she has discussed with him or Omega yet. But Shadow knows Rouge well. She has been his best colleague and friend for years, even if the latter bit was hard to admit until recently. She sees much potential in Nine, and to be fair to her, she is not wrong. Nine is extraordinary. But a satisfactory teammate? From Shadow's experience, he would rather throw them into a vat from Chemical Plant Zone than ever put his life in their hands. 

However, if Nine could work through their baggage and learn teamwork—their cooperation would be invaluable. After all, despite Nine's protests, there is a reason why Nine has not joined any battles or small adventures Sonic has been on since adopting them and the rest of the foxes. It has been two years, but such little time does not undo the trauma they went through for years. Not until they stop trying to murder Eggman every time they encounter the mad doctor.

"So, why are you awake?" Nine asks, seemingly out of nowhere. Shadow cleans the area before turning towards them, his designated coffee mug in hand. Sonic got him this one as a small housewarming gift as if to say, 'Thanks for finally sleeping over, buddy!' Knowing him, though, those were his thoughts when he bought it. Shadow glances at it for a second. It being hand painted and adorned by doodles of a chaos emerald is not lost on him. Much less the fact that it is the green chaos emerald, as opposed to any other of the chaos emeralds out there. 

Nine is not a talkative bunch. They had much to say when they were enemies, but now that the stakes are not so high anymore, all that adrenaline-fueled ramble is no more, leaving a distrustful teenager to pick up the pieces. That does not mean they will ever get along; far from it. For as much as Sonic points out how similar they are, Shadow only sees the differences. 

Dirty blonde fur and light grey-blue eyes that pierce in the dark. They glow slightly from its nectarine membrane, and their bangs are mussed, not from slumber but from running their hand through it so many times. Shadow sees exhaustion and feels it. For it may not be his own, but insomnia is a bitch for everyone who falls victim to it.

If Nine is talking to me instead of tormenting me, then there is something they want from me. They have spoken smack plenty of times to anger him up for payback. Nine does not engage in idle chatter; it is just not like them. They are a manipulator because they had to be one, but Shadow is not so easily fooled that they leave those skills behind together with the rest of their miserable past. Bad experiences or not, Nine is still responsible for their actions, and Shadow is not their beloved brother who so graciously took them in even though they tried to kill him to have their own little paradise.

But Sonic made him promise to give Nine a chance—or at least try to get along. So Shadow sighs and tries to think of the least informative answer he can give. It is not like he is a stranger to non-answers. He has had plenty of practice with them in his life. He started early with them, for the Ark was not a sunshiny place with understanding people in it. People hate lies, but they value keeping up appearances more. 

"Was Sonic's snoring too much for you?" Nine continues, seemingly concerned. There is no tone infliction to suggest it as such, but Shadow has spent enough time with people to know the structure of sentences or near statements to conclude that it is-

"You should have stayed home if so, spared us the trouble." And there it is! The vitriol Shadow has not missed. Nine seems to delight in how Shadow's expression contorts from confusion to mild annoyance. Shadow prides himself on being unflappable, but unfortunately, they have known each other long enough now that Nine can read his facial expressions—much to his dismay.

But the reverse is also true.

"You know, 79% of couples who move in together see a break up in the same time frame. I would give up if I were, save yourself some heartbreak." Nine says, their intentions wide open. They never approved of him being with Sonic, although the reason might not be so apparent to outsiders. They see a sibling who only wants the best of the best for their brother or cute jealousy from a younger sibling. But few know the dark secret of how deep Nine's obsession with Sonic goes.

Shadow is sure Nine would have been just as disapproving if he had been anyone else. The only difference is that Nine cannot scare him away, and they have had this idea of him stealing Sonic away from the time they locked eyes and understood—that Sonic is the key to saving the universe at that moment. 

Possessiveness, even now, holds the fox captive in its toxic chains. It is ugly, filling Nine's features with hatred on a typical day. Right now, though, their attempts at Shadow breaking off the relationship are tempered—half-assed attempts that have long lost their venom like they used to. 

Even if it is a little, Nine has learned to share, as much as using that word to refer to Sonic makes Shadow's throat burn. Still, they have a long way to go. The others do not understand how far Nine would go to have kept Sonic to themself, and nobody else needs to know. That secret lies between Shadow and Nine and will stay that way.

The destain curdles in Shadow's stomach. He drinks his coffee, hoping it will settle. It is not a stomachache, and forget a stomach bug. The problem is purely psychological, yet Shadow wishes he was born like anyone else for once. He would rather blame it on an imperfect body than the memory of nearly losing Sonic and the world they both love so dearly. 

The coffee is straight black, just as he likes it. Eating coffee beans is more of a snack; brewed coffee has a much better chance of cooling his nerves. Still, it contains something bittersweet—a taste that reminds him of the earth in a jungle, with the enriched aroma of beating down the sun with your feet, but Shadow would take it compared to being alone with Nine. 

"-studies also show that the more different you are from your partner, the more different your expectations of the relationship will be. You should think of the future you want and not force your unrealised wishes on others. And-" Nine pauses, just as they finished pouring a flavour packet to put in their milk—having grabbed the jug from the fridge as Shadow was lost in his train of thought.

" -you were not listening," they say bluntly, looking at him as if they expect better. Shadow does not care. He is too tired to live up to the expectations of an obsessive teenager. 

"Hmm." Shadow hums. He does not have to engage. Even if he is in the mood to conversate, whenever he tries with Nine, they dig into him, unearthing every little secret Shadow has. Luckily, Nine's priorities are their fake beliefs of protecting Sonic rather than his origins or how his biology works. That is one thing Shadow appreciates about them. As curious as a fox they are, they are too hung up on the idea of Shadow taking Sonic away from them to wonder where he came from and what he is.

Although, from a kit from a different universe entirely, Shadow looks just like everybody else because, to them, Shadow is typical of this world. It is strangely comforting that rather than seeing an alien, Nine sees another hedgehog that happens to be standing toe-to-toe with Sonic, as if his connection to Choas and Black Arms' abilities is relatively common rather than an anomaly.

"Of all traits Sonic could have rubbed off onto you, it had to be his short attention span. That idiot." Nine says, without any bite to their words. As much as they like to act like everyone bothers them all the time, they can never hide their soft spot for Sonic.

"Scoot over, I need the frothing machine." Nine says suddenly, pushing Shadow away from the coffee machine. Shadow moves before they touch him, but the interaction is curious. He watches them use the built-in milk warmer to foam the milk. Out of anyone, they are not afraid to touch or stand up to him. Many have lost their lives trying to stop him, and only a handful live to tell the tale. But Nine does not treat him like he is something ultimate to defeat or fear. To Nine, he is a threat but not a dangerous one. 

Oddly, it is reassuring not to be feared for once—although Nine should be. That kit plays with fire so often that Shadow wonders if Sonic instilled that recklessness or if Tails naturally also would be so careless about their own life. Shadow knows he is intense and unapproachable. It is not in his nature to be friendly, nor is he interested in being allies with someone who tries to fight him verbally at every chance. 

'You gotta try! I know you had a rough start with them, but Nine has changed. You just gotta throw them a bone, and I swear you will get along like a house on fire!' Sonic's voice filters in Shadow's mind. Shadow admires how Sonic can see so much good in people, although it often makes him blind. The flash of Sonic's hopeful eyes in his mind's eye makes Shadow sigh. 

He must try, even if he does not want to. That is what it means to be in a partnership. Shadow can complain all he wants about how Nine trusts no one and refuses to make an effort to work in a team, but he has to try at least. Except for Rouge and Omega, Shadow detests working with anyone else. Sonic is not exempt from the rule, although their team-ups have been more successful in the last two years. That does not change how much they bicker while on a mission.

Maria would want him to give Nine a chance, too. She would probably like Nine, too, even though they are infuriating. Like Sonic, Maria always saw the good in everything.

Shadow takes a deep breath. He has long run out of tears to cry, but thinking about her will never lessen the ache of his loss. And to think this world has been erased forever by this cretin. This is for you, Maria, and Sonic. 

"I am sure that is not what is called," he says bluntly, not at all gentle or soft. He will try to converse, but that does not mean he will fake being pleasant. Nine will have to work hard for that privilege. He hardly knows how to be vulnerable with Sonic, much less his team members. Nine does not deserve to see that side of him. 

"Ugh, I am too tired to remember the correct name, too," Nine answers honestly. Shadow blinks. Huh, was it that easy? 

But no, Nine shakes themself awake, realising what they said. The defensive walls come back up. Even for something so small, they hide themself back behind a glare. It is not about the context of their words but rather that they let their thoughts slip. 

"What are you doing here anyway? Aren't you being a bad partner, leaving Sonic all alone?" Nine hisses, jabbing the foam button. The whole room fills with the harsh hiss of the machine. They press extra hard as if to substitute the hiss for their own, barely above a whisper from how rough their throat sounds.

Shadow's ears pin back, inwardly bemoaning how good his hearing is. He holds back a snark about how Nine wishes they could have a sleepover with Sonic instead of him. Shadow used to love sleeping next to Maria, so he understands the comfort and safety of sleeping near family. It was one of the few things that allowed him some peace when Maria's vitals would drop dangerously low on the weekly. But he is also not an obsessed little shit who nearly destroyed a universe because of a disagreement with the older brother they claimed was theirs. 

Shadow remembers Sonic telling him how they finally entered the separation stage of therapy so Nine would learn not to be so codependent not that long ago. He wisely keeps his mouth shut. It would be a low blow, especially as Tails, Mangey, and Sails are not barred from sleeping beside Sonic when they have a nightmare. Less so Sails, but it has happened before. The living room becomes on big cuddly pile when a thunderstorm rolls around. It is one of the few nights Sonic cannot sleep well, surrounded by insulated fur and one hard-kicking toddler.

Shadow counts himself lucky; no storms have happened yet. He loves Sonic, but it is too much for now. He is not ready to raise four foxes, even if they are geniuses—smart kids are still kids—or, in Nine and Sails' case, teenagers. He is not sure he could ever do something so domestic or nurturing. He was not made for something so mundane. Although he knew he would have to adjust before they started dating. He knew the consequences, and he leapt into the fry anyway.

He sighs. I suppose Sonic did rub off on me.

"I can't sleep."

"No—really? I would have never guessed. I thought you were drinking coffee-" Nine glances at their right hand, tapping the glowing blue button. They hum, "3 a.m. in the morning—for fun." Nine lets go of the foam button, returning the milk to their preparation table. They look up at the ceiling as if to wonder if people actually drink coffee at 3 a.m. for the fun of it. They shake their head. 

"If you can't sleep with Sonic in the same bed, I would call it quits now."

"You already said so." Nine glowers at him for his quip. Shadow suppresses another sigh. He has been doing that too much lately; if he could cash them in, he would be a millionaire. 

Shadow considers responding in kind, as their conversations usually go the few times Shadows snaps at Nine. But that would just perpetuate the cycle of loathing. There must be a better way to communicate and not leave disgruntled.

"I have… insomnia." Shadow tentatively admits, hoping a little truth might bridge the gap between them. He is not hopeful, and he has never believed in praying. But it is worth a shot. Nine does not seem to care, though. Finally, they look at him as if to take him in and establish his claim. Shadow is unsure how good Nine's night vision is and bristles a little. He is already regretting being vulnerable, even for a small moment.

"That sucks." Nine finally says, their voice as deadpan as a steel casket. Their apathy is as loud as the crickets chirping outside. But Shadow does not let it bother him. He is not good at expressing emotions, either. Although it usually works in his favour.

"I assume you also cannot sleep," Shadow asks, studying Nine carefully. Nine narrow their eyes in suspicion, their ears swivelling sideways. As secretive and cunning as Nine can be, their ears give away their emotions. However, their ears barely twitch, restrained by sheer will. Nine's expression sharpens as if they know Shadow is observing them. They probably do, but Nine is also paranoid, so it could be either of them. Yet, Nine's paranoia is justified as Shadow will never again let his guard down around them, not after everything they have done.

"Why do you need to know?" Nine asks, their frown an inch away from a grimace.

"Simply making conversation." Shadow shrugs. Nine snorts, but it is anything but an amused sound. They look disgusted. 

"Idle chatter from you ? I must have discovered a new dimension. The Shadow I know is not so intrusive." They spit, violently stabbing the straw into the boba tea lid. Shadow can read between the lines, but Nine is anything but open to his attempt at civility. 

Dealing with this kit is like pulling teeth. Shadow muses, already regretting attempting to be sociable.  What is the next step in the conversation? Showing that you care. Alright. Shadow does not care about Nine. They are slightly above the people who he does not want to see killed list. Still, as much as he does not want to, Shadow tries again.

"Sleep can stunt your growth. You shouldn't stay up so late." He says. There, done. That's enough care from him. He should receive a gold medal just for the effort alone. He would rather be stuck in the Void again for a day than do this. 

But Nine looks non-plussed.

"As if I didn't know that. I am in the middle of destroying your government's puny medical exams to become neuroresearchers. Out of anyone, I would know how beneficial having a good night's sleep is." Nine huffs and puffs, always haughty, defending their intelligence. For how clever the fox is, they have very low self-esteem. 

Shadow opens his mouth but closes it with a click. He did not know they were pursuing a medical degree. Or, well, doing something official does not suit Nine. They are probably just doing it to demonstrate their superiority and clowning on whatever the institute that pissed them off this time. For all their genus, they are the most petty teenager in Mobuis.

"And still, you are awake," Shadow counters. He can be passive, but being nice does not get him anywhere. Nine is more suspicious of his nice act than appreciative.

"That's rich coming from you, Mister Ultimate Insomiac." 

Shadow frowns. Of course, it would just like Nine to take advantage of the vulnerability he showed. A cold mace warped in barbs, with walls raised so far they could no longer see the ground from the other side. 

But walls do not protect; they only keep you isolated and unprotected from down below—where the root of maliciousness awaits, waiting for their downfall. Shadow knows it well, yet he loathes that he sees himself in Nine— for a second, he allows himself to empathise with Nine. Shadow reigns in his anger. Anger will not help him in the long run—only alienating Nine further. There is one glaring issue that separates the two of them. Despite their insistence on maturity, Shadow is an adult, while Nine is still a child. Shadow is the responsible one; beating children is never the answer. You only create more contempt. Shadow would know—contempt is all he knew when he remembered only the hurt and death that happened upon the Ark.

However, Shadow is not above putting Nine in their place if they ever do something so catastrophic again.

"So I take it you accidentally stayed up working on your projects?" Shadow asks, hoping that the third time is the charm. 

Nine is silent, staring at him. He hit the nail right on the head. Nine bites their teeth, their fingers clenching their boba tea so tightly. The cup must be more durable than Shadow would assume from something storebought. Nine may not be super strong, and they are not muscled from most of their time being spent inside in the dark. Still, they can throw a mean left hook when needed. However, as Shadow suspects, Nine thrives on adrenaline, and without it, they rely on their tails too much. Without them, they are a fish in a barrel and more helpless than even Mangey, who has the ferocity to protect themself and the claws and fangs to prove it.

Shadow considers giving them close combat lessons before shooting down the idea. Even if they accepted, which he doubts, he does not have the time, nor does he want to spend more time with Nine. This is already too much one-on-one time, but he will permit it. 

"What does it matter to you anyway? You would rather have me gone," Nine murmurs. Their words are nearly inaudible, but their gaze is so burning that if Shadow were a lesser man, he would have burst into flames. Nine's hatred is a baleful inferno, sickly green with venom and jealousy they shake with it. It is so potent that Shadow shivers. For so much turmoil and contempt to be held in someone so young is quite baffling. 

But once upon a time, Shadow was just the same. Vengeful and ready to burn the world down because it took everything away from him, misconstruing a wish with a very different desire.

Shadow pauses, choosing his words carefully. Nine is not someone you can be careless with. Yet, he sighs. His methods clearly did not work. So, Shadow speaks his mind after a deep breath and a mouthful of coffee. 

"It doesn't matter to me. As you said, I still find it more beneficial for you to be separated from Sonic entirely until your possessive streak ends." He admits—not a shred of dishonesty on him. 

" Fuck you ." Nine growls. Clearly, his honesty is not valued.

But Shadow is not finished. 

"But I am not a therapist, nor a psychologist. I am not the one in charge of making those decisions. I trust Sonic to know his boundaries, even if he is not good at enforcing them. His happiness is tied to yours, which means you should look better after yourself."  Shadow finishes, eyeing the stunned teen next to him. Nine is shocked, their mouth agape, and their eyes are as wide as dinner plates. They close their mouth as a trickle of boba falls to the floor, quickly covering their mouth for their slip-up. They blink rapidly, unable to focus on a single item in the room.

Nine's face switches between so many wild emotions. Surprise, disbelief, and even a shred of concern slips in there, which surprises Shadow. He thought Nine did not care for him. They probably do not, though, as with their shared experience, it would not be too out of place to suspect the other to be a double or an imposter. They are strangely emotive. It must be their exhaustion. It is harder to hold onto your walls when weary, and this is Nine's safe haven. Even though they still see me as a threat, being on guard on their home turf the whole time is impossible.  Shadow concludes.

Shadow blinks. Safe haven, huh? It has only been two years, and Nine already feels comfortable here. It took Shadow so much more time to be comfortable anywhere on Mobius. If he were a lesser being, he would be envious. But why would he when it makes them consider this their new home? 

It makes Shadow wonder what Nine will do with the Grim. But it is none of his business; honestly, he could care less. It could implode on itself, and he would be pleased. Pleased that a place with so many bad things associated with it is gone. Although he supposes. Even though that world is but an empty sandbox where one cultivates madness. It still holds a Prism Shard. Who knows what would happen if the Grim were erased. It is better to leave it alone. 

Nine comes to themself, their brows pinched. Whatever epiphany they had, it is gone.

"...live for Sonic, huh? How selfish of you to want me to be healthy for his sake." Nine says in a defeatist tone—not rising to challenge Shadow despite their accusatory words. It is as if they had already decided this, but Shadow reminded them of something important. 

"See, however, you like it." Shadow shrugs. As strange as Nine's reaction is, he does not care. He only wants them to heal and not hurt others, be it Sonic, Rouge, Omega, or anyone else. The world does not need repeats of Shadow's Revenge, not with all the blasted Andriods that made him doubt his own identity.

Nine is certainly capable of destroying the world. They have proven themselves dangerous; Shadow does not need any more demonstrations.

"It is one night, though. How presumptuous of you to assume I am always up this late." Nine folds their arms, their drink forgotten on the countertop. Their gaze is oppressive, and their body language is so still that it makes Shadow uneasy. Their eyes are sharp, and their nose flares. It means they are preparing for an attack. Shadow has seen this before. He braces himself, instinct taking over. 

" You stay out of my business." Nine snarls, "You will regret it." Their whole muzzle contorts with the animalistic expression, promising a world of pain and suffering if Shadow does not back off. They do not attack, however, so Shadow eases in his stance, eying Nine warily. The threat of violence is no bluff. Nine might have turned off their tails, but they have no objections to using them against him. Their baleful face has no shred of humour, only pure hatred. 

For a moment, Shadow wonders what Nine would be like: a sparring partner. He woefully lacks an analytical opponent, and while Nine cannot match his level like his close allies can, Shadow wishes to study their fighting style. He has seen nothing like it before until the battle for Paradox Prism. It is so different from Tails' use of gadgets; the very thought of them being the same person never once crossed his mind again when he saw it the first time.

But asking Nine to spar is out of the question. For Nine, every battle is one to the death. They may understand the definition of sparring, but their unconsciousness does not. Nonetheless, Shadow will give credit where credit is due. Nine knows where to hit it where it hurts. With more discipline and maturity, they would make a fine warrior.

I must be going mad to admit such a weakness, even in the confines of my own mind. Sonic, you've made me soft. Shadow muses, taking another sip of his coffee. It does not feel like enough. I wish Sonic had some whiskey lying around here. I could use a neat one . Shadow all too well; alcohol does not work on him. Even the strong ones. 

"As I said-"

"I don't care for what you have to say! If not for you standing here, I would not be talking to you." Nine bites back, their ears fully pressed against their skull. There is nothing but aggression. Shadow takes a metaphorical step back. He will not back down from anything, but getting mad will not diffuse this situation. It is not helpful at all to what he is trying to achieve. And I doubt Sonic will appreciate me and Nine tearing up the house in the middle of the night . Walls can be repaired, but with everyone's but Nine's room being in the upper floors? Sonic will not forgive so easily him for putting people's lives in danger, especially those of his charges. 

Even if I'm his boyfriend. 

Shadow opens his mouth, but as the words filter in, he realises something critical Nine said. 

"Then why haven't you left yet?" He asks, emphasising the why. As much as he likes to believe he is calm and collected, Shadow would be a fool to think he was invincible to lose his temper. He has lost his cool more than he would like over the years. Specifically at Sonic, but Sonic has a unique ability to annoy even the most calm people. But that is probably just Shadw's biased view. What does that make me? I'm the one dating him. Ugh. 

Nine exhales sharply, averting their eyes—caught red-handed. They could have left any time and yet stayed. Why? Shadow wonders. They would not be here arguing with him if they hated Shadow so much. 

"...hmm." Nine hums. They turn their back on him, grabbing their boba tea none too gently, and leave the kitchen area, determined to return to their room without another word said.

Shadow watches them leave, his genuine attempt at being sociable failing. On any other day, he would have settled for this failure. It is nothing to be proud of, but some things cannot be helped. 

But an idea pops into his head.

"...Omega needs some maintenance work done. He has said nothing yet because he is prideful. I take it you have the necessary skills." He asks, stopping Nine in their tracks. They pause, taking in the information. Their ears twitch, swivelling backwards to listen more intensely. They do not need to turn around to hear better—that was always more of a choice than a necessity. 

"I am more than qualified. The better question is-" Still, Nine turns to look at him, scrutinising him from head to toe, "Why ask me this? I am not the only mechanic here."

"True, but you get along with Omega the most. And you are not the one to shy away from a challenging project." Shadow explains simply, honing in on the interest shining in Nine's icy blues. It is mild but enough of a hook. If there is one thing Shadow can count on, it is Nine's competitive nature.

"What's so challenging about doing maintenance?" They ask. 

"That's for you to figure out," Shadow says cryptically, aware that Nine would turn him down if he revealed more. Even if it were the most exciting mechanic job in the world, Nine would not take it from him. Nine despises him. 

Nine considers it and eventually shrugs. The movement is similar to Sonic's; Shadow is sure they copied his behaviour, as unaware of it as they are. It could be a copied behaviour from any of the other Tails, too, but since Nine spends the most time with Sonic, he would be the most obvious answer. And Sonic supposedly only rubbed off on me. I don't think so. Shadow muses mockingly. 

"Whatever, just send me his contact info—I don't really care," they say. Shadow nods, accepting the uncertain confirmation. It is good enough for him.

"Alright." Shadow deflates slightly, glad that it worked. He holds his coffee in both hands, feeling slightly woozy. It is the side effect of staying up so long without sleep. This is not my first sleepless night. It's been a few days… Shadow blinks, his eyes dry. It is taking a toll on me. 

Shadow expects peace to finally finish his coffee and return to Sonic's bedroom, where he can stare at the ceiling for the coming hours. But Nine has not moved an inch from their spot. Shadow raises his brow. Were they not in a hurry to get as far away from me? What changed? He is sure his subtle offer of expanding their ally pool was not that significant, and even if they caught on, they would be screaming or attacking him. 

Nine seems to struggle with what to say, turning more towards him. Not fully bodily, but a little more open than just a glance over the shoulder. The change is odd, but what is odder are their words. 

"You know, you're not the worst partner Sonic could have chosen. At least you can hold your own." They say, almost complimenting him. 

Shadow blinks, wondering if he is hallucinating. He would not be surprised. But Shadow has hallucinated before, and he is sure he is still wholly sober—unfortunately. The almost inebriated like state of sleeplessness is still too far away.

"... thank you?" Shadow replies, uncertain of how to handle this. Understanding how Nine's twisted mind works is above his pay grade.

"But do not mistake me; if you hurt him, I will rip you to shreds," Nine darkly vows, the fire in their words one Shadow knows to heed. He will win in an out brawl, but Nine is cunning and will find other ways to thwart him. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and Nine is cutthroat.

"Likewise." Shadow nods his head, more firmly this time.

Nine bobs their head, too, understanding him completely. Like their small moment back in the Grim, they are on the same page. There is no room for misunderstanding.

Nine leaves without a goodbye. Shadow does not need it, but he does sigh, his headache blasting against his skull. How Sonic does it, he will never know. He certainly does not envy him. With nothing left to do and too tired to keep standing on his two legs, Shadow treks back upstairs. Luckily, he does not change to reencountering Nine as they head downstairs, deep into what was once a basement. Something about dark and insulated places, but Shadow is too weary to remember what Sonic told him about the curious arrangement. And even if he did recall, he would already have forgotten it as he entered Sonic's bedroom.

Shadow crawls under the covers, propping up his back with some of the extra pillows lining the headboard. He is right back where he started, with some coffee on his bedside table and a very exhausting interaction behind him. And yet he is no closer to sleep. Shadow glares at the ceiling but gives up halfway from tearing a hole in it with his eyes alone. Shadow glances over at his clock, hoping at least an hour has passed. 

03:32 beams in bright green letters back at him. He rubs at his eyes, groaning in the back of his throat. With his superior eyesight, that was never going to work anyway.

What to do now? Shadow wonders. He spent at least four hours staring at the ceiling, hoping to fall asleep. I might as well read. It is not like I need a bedlight anyway to read, so I don't have to worry about waking up Sonic. 

He rolls over, reaching for the stack of books on his nightstand. I haven't finished Bram Stocker's Dracula yet. I was at- 

However, Shadow does not get to reach for his novel, stopped by an arm wrapping around him. He freezes, all his spines standing straight in retaliation. But he immediately calms down, knowing where he is and that he will shred the bed if he does not relax. He is not in the mood to pay for damages even though Sonic would not let him. He will still feel guilty about it, regardless.

"Hey, babe. I missed you." Sonic croons in his ear, making Shadow shiver. Petnames seemed so strange to him. He had not even called Maria by a nickname, much less his creator, who, albeit kinder than all the other scientists on the ARK, was adamant about Shadow calling him Professor, Gerald or a combination of both. At least he allowed him to call him by his given name rather than his family name. However, it was more than likely not to confuse Maria as she had the same surname as him. But Sonic whispering in his ear, using something so sweet as endearments, is like a match to kerosene—it sets Shadow's guts alight. 

Shadow blinks away the dizziness. Two years ago, he would have thought he was severely poisoned if he ever felt like this. Now he knows better. But being in love can be debilitating sometimes. Luckily for him, Sonic is patient as he rolls over to look at him.

Sonic looks soft, staring at him as if he painted the night sky, from the illustrious moon to the stars twinkling upon its indigo canvas—each brushstroke filled with passion. Shadow cannot fathom someone loving him so much, much less like this. But they have been together long enough for the fires to stay lit and not blow out like the candle of a crush. Shadow thought getting together was the end, but he was wrong. Love grows, and it evolves with you. It never ends, only transforms. 

If Shadow ever fell out of love, it would hurt, and he would feel like a failure. But he would also be glad he loved at all. Even if it is not romantic, he would still love Sonic. 

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Shadow apologises, searching for discomfort on Sonic's face. Out of the two of them, Sonic gets the best sleep. It is unsurprising as Sonic spends half his free time napping when they have peace in their tumultuous lives. Sonic wastes a lot of energy, and sleep is one of the best ways to replenish it. Something Shadow also would have done if it were not for how the chemicals in his brain decided to give him insomnia instead. 

It is not a big deal, though. He lives off of Choas's energy.  He can rely on it instead of eating or sleeping if things get tough. From time to time, Shadow wonders if that is one more reason why he could not enter the shatterspaces through the gateway. Sonic could because he was filled with Prism energy. But it would not be too much of a stretch to conclude that those worlds rejected him because those worlds considered Chaos a threat. 

"Nah." Sonic shrugs, his whole body making the motion as he lies down instead of standing upright. But Shadow glares—not convinced. Sonic deflates, the fake optimism vanishing before him like snow in spring. For how much Sonic strives for positive mental health, he is more likely to lie to him than tell him the truth—particularly about what is bothering him.

He is getting better at being honest about his feelings, though, with everyone. But he is only just a mortal with mortal flaws. He will get there, but it is a long road of work ahead. Despite how infuriating Sonic can be, it is comforting that he is flawed. It eases the knot in Shadow's stomach to always strive for perfection. Even someone like Sonic who can go super and carried the fates of multiple worlds and universes on his shoulder, will never be a perfect creature. And that is fine.

"Okay, maybe you did, but who cares!" Sonic says, shuffling closer. It means I get to cuddle you more," he says as if it is the greatest thing in the world. Shadow can think of many more that are greater than cuddling, but being in Sonic's arms, safe and warm, and for Sonic to be safe too, he cannot deny that is a great feeling.

It makes him feel a little too soft—like hot taffy melting in his tongue and scratching his throat. He needs his coffee to balance it out, but he does not want to remove Sonic from him. He is comfortable like this.

"You're too sweet," Shadow says without heat. It is simply a fact to him.

Sonic laughs; it sounds like music to his ears. "Be careful not to get a cavity from me!" Sonic jokes, nuzzling under Shadow's neck. Shadow hums, scratching behind Sonic's ear. The effort grants him a rumbly purr. "Dental healthcare is a nightmare in this economy."

"I would never get something so irresponsible," Shadow argues half-heartedly. He does not point out how getting a cavity from Sonic is impossible anyway. His boyfriend would find a way to make it possible anyway.

"Okay, mister 'Ultimate lifeform, I can regrow my teeth first before getting a cavity'." Sonic blows him a raspberry. Shadow taps his brow gently, signifying to stop. Or at least Shadow thinks it is gentle. Sonic does not wince, but Sonic's pain tolerance is high, and he would not tell him if he was hurt unless it impeded his ability to do things. Shadow is quite the same, yet he would not admit weakness to anyone as long as he breathed.

He is working on being more open, at least verbally. However, unlearning bad habits is a slow process. It cannot be rushed, not for anyone.

Sonic leans in, his eyes twinkling;

"I would get a cavity for you." He says as if it is the ultimate and romantic sacrifice.

Shadow is hardly impressed. 

"Nothing more romantic than tooth decay." He grouses. 

Sonic chortles.

"You're hilarious; why can't you be this funny during the day?" He teases, his eyes laced with mischief. His face is so close, his breath ghosting Shadow's lips. His breath smells terrible but is so easily forgotten in the moment.

Shadow is mesmerised.

"I thrive in the night," Shadow says, his eyes on Sonic's lips, wondering how he ever fell in love when none of this should be affecting him. Logically, the proximity of their faces should not make his heart beat out of his chest or make his blood sing. He should not be comfortable; he should feel like jumping out of a window. 

But there is nothing logical about attraction or love. Shadow could research chemicals and biology, whichever he likes, but he will never solve the mystery of what love is. Love is magical and indigestible, pulling a veil before your eyes and cotton in your mouth, whether romantic or platonic. Making even the cleverest and strongest beings fools. 

But Shadow does not mind being a fool in love for every fool, tastes the ambrosia of the gods and is the only one to get out alive for tricking the divine. Not when Sonic makes him feel so alive by just being him. 

"Hmm, clearly." Sonic smiles, closing the little distance between them.

Shadow obliges,  

They share a kiss, a press of the lips that makes Shadow feel fuzzy despite its simplicity. Sonic smiles against him, unable to contain his joy. Shadow does not mind, though, and smiles into the kiss, too. Why would he need to suppress his emotions anyway? It seems like such a waste when he feels terrific like this. 

It is the endorphins streaming through his veins making him feel this way, as fast as adrenaline, but twice as addictive. But he had already thrown caution to the wind long before he considered kissing Sonic or being with him. There is no second-guessing at the moment, only the intimacy they share. 

But Sonic pulls back, shocked. Shadow frowns, holding him into place. He does not realise he has wrapped his arms around Sonic, who is too caught up in the moment. He worries for a second, wondering if he went too far.

"Ugh, black coffee!" But his concern is unwarranted. Sonic wipes the back of his mouth, looking at him with mock betrayal. Shadow knows so because even though he sounds properly scandalised, a big bright smile still plays on his lips: "Why did it have to be something so foul?!"

"Suffer," Shadow smirks, using his arm around Sonic to bring him close again. 

"Why do you have to be so cruel!" Sonic bemoans, pushing Shadow away. But seeing an opportunity to be the annoying one for once, Shadow seizes it, taken over by a sudden burst of energy. Sonic recognises the first move of a play fight from a mile away and smirks, gladly joining in. 

On the battlefield, they are equals. Depending on the circumstance, or as unpredictable as having a bad day or a slip of movement, is the determiner of their fights. But Shadow wins in a closed-spaced increment, with both being careful about not breaking the bed. He practises control and formal combat training, whereas Sonic is self-taught and built for speed rather than using chaos energy to fuel his attacks. Although compared to when they first met, Sonic has bulked up somewhat. He can feel it as he pins his lover down, appreciating how much work Sonic has put his body through—even if he is unaware of it. 

What can Shadow say? He appreciates someone putting in the effort.

But Shadow does not mind their differences. Instead, he adores them. For as much as people point out their similarities, they are as different as night and day—facets of the same coin. As he pins Sonic underneath him, feeling victorious with their play fighting, he is sure that if Sonic wants to win, he will find a way. Predictions mean nothing when an opponent is determined. And Shadow is not the one to underestimate someone. Not someone so creative and quick-thinking as Sonic. 

Sonic does not seem surprised to be underneath him; instead, he seems to enjoy it as he basks in Shadow's attention. He must still be pretty tired; as affectionate as Sonic can be, he is not this blatantly soft. Or perhaps tonight is just a bizarre night. It gives Shadow a burst of confidence, and although he is not the one to feel shy—it still takes courage to say the words that spring to his mind. 

"Maybe you can be my sweetener?" Shadow asks innocently. He wants to crawl into his own skin, quite aware that if there were any other circumstances, he would be dying from embarrassment. How Sonic says such cheesy lines escapes him—he would not be caught dead saying such things in public, much less among acquaintances.

But Sonic's expression makes it all worth it. Sonic's eyes widen, nearly bulging from his sockets. He looks Shadow up and down, unable to believe those words came out of his mouth. But he grins after a hot second, his expression between cute befuddlement and mirth. 

"...wow, that was smooth. Where has this version of you been?" Sonic asks, jokingly, just enough teasing to ruffle Shadow's spines, like he always does, making everything into a fun challenge just for the back and forth. Always so infuriating; it is maddening. 

"Right here, you buffoon. You just need to pay more attention." But Shadow would be lying if he said he did not like it. He cups Sonic's face more tenderly than he would in daylight. The witching hour makes him tender.

"Clearly. Suppose I am just more susceptible to your charms late at night." Sonic sighs, meaning every word of it. It is so sweet; Shadow's stomach twists into knots. Looping over the other, tying itself into a Gordian knot. The old him would have cut the knot, taking after Alexander the Great but ignorant of its meaning or what he had done. He was a fool, and he is still one, and he will never stop being one. With a complicated knot in hand or not, a fool he shall stay. As is Sonic, the one who would bother trying to understand the significance of the Gordian Knot or the important historical figure that cut it in twain.

"Morning." Shadow corrects.

"Not yet," Sonic cheekily counters, smirking from ear to ear.

"I wish, then, so I could get far away from you," Shadow says monotonically, squishing Sonic's cheeks. He does not grow much of a scruff, but his fur is soft.

"Our position says otherwise, " Sonic smartly replies, waggling his brows. Shadow leans in, realising the promiscuous position they are in. He rolls his eyes. 

Shadow does the unthinkable—dropping unanimously on Sonic. Sonic grunts, the air knocked out of his lungs. He sputters briefly, and Shadow remembers that his body is denser than Sonic's. It would hurt for Sonic to have Shadow fall on him as if he were some safety net.

But Shadow knows Sonic can handle it, even if Shadow is heavier than a boulder.

"Oof, ow, Shads, you're crushing me. Lend a guy a hand!" Sonic crows are hoarse. But he makes no effort to push Shadow off of him. They both know he can.

"Hmm," Shadow hums, ignoring his poor boyfriend's pleas and making himself comfortable. As long as he is lying on Sonic's front, Sonic makes for an excellent mattress. Sonic's back is a different question. 

"I am pretty sure your dad did not infuse you with hedgehog DNA, but rather a big house cat." Sonic huffs, his words ending with a breathy laugh. 

Shadow pushes down the urge to ask which dad, releasing with that prompt that he sees Black Doom as one of his parents. He buries that thought deep down. It is pretty apparent what Sonic means by his words alone.

"Then you will obey the house rules," Shadow says with a nod, his word final.

Sonic laughs, and Shadow is sure that if it were not for him laying off him, Sonic would be roaring with laughter.

Shadow smiles; his features are fond.

"Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep, you lug." Sonic wraps his arms around Shadow's back, holding him close and closing his eyes. In no time, his breath slows, a telltale of falling asleep.

Shadow smiles wider. Sonic is always more perceptive than he gives him credit for. He nestles on top of Sonic, his hands a comforting weight on Shadow's quills and back. Sonic might not have a chest fluff, but he does not need it. Shadow is comfortable where he is, falling asleep to Sonic's comforting heartbeat. His coffee is left forgotten on the nightstand, growing cold while Shadow stays toasty. 

In a few hours, it will be another activity-filled day in the morning with four youthful foxes with much to do and too little time to execute their brilliant plans. Shadow will be there, watching Sonic happily struggle between them. Shadow will sit back with his straight black coffee beside him, wondering if he should add his own preferred drink choice to the drinks cabinet.