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Most Mobians were fiercely protective of their hands. They're almost never seen without gloves of some kind. Hell, even Shadow, despite his half alien origins and his birth being anything other than a typical Mobian hedgehog birth, had a pair of gloves upon his first breath. Perhaps in hindsight, Gerald had the foresight to research Mobian customs and accommodated Shadow's design accordingly afterwards. Therefore, as a test tube baby raised by humans in the cold isolation of space, Shadow's knowledge of Mobian culture is woefully minimal. Nonexistent, even. It's led him to a couple of awkward situations.
Most notably, during an outing with Rouge where he had preemptively began removing his gloves to wash his hands.
“Sweet Chaos! Would it kill ya to warn a gal next time, hun?” She practically shrieked at him, turning away as her face turned as dark as her namesake.
Shadow had been beyond confused at the time. He had looked around, trying to see if anything was out of place. But the only thing that had been different was the removal of his gloves.
His shock must have been apparent, as the bat had given him a confused stare back after her initial embarrassment wore off.
“Wait, do you really not understand?” she asked. Shadow's befuddled shrug was enough of an answer, leading to a hasty crash course on Mobian culture.
Apparently, showing one's hands was the equivalent of whipping their genitalia out in the blue. It was taboo, and seen as obscene. Rouge said she couldn't remember exactly why, but it had something to do with an ancient myth that had no real merit. Even if it was nothing but mumbo jumbo in the end, the belief was still deeply ingrained into Mobian behavior. Kids of all species were given a pair of gloves immediately upon being able to walk and were taught to always keep them on when out and about.
His time being raised around humans certainly conflicted with this new information. Maria and Gerald never wore gloves typically and neither did most of the staff unless it was to handle medical procedures. Maria always encouraged him to wash his hands regularly too. Slipping his gloves off simply had no meaning to anyone around him at the time. It was strange to think how he'd actually have to be careful about it now.
“Unless it's an emergency, Mobians only show their hands to those they trust.” The bat emphasizes strongly.
Shadow pockets the information dutifully, lest he essentially flash some poor, unsuspecting Mobian by complete accident.
He doesn't think about it again until now, about two years and one messy confession later, while his gloved hand encapsulates Sonic's.
They've been lying in an empty field for about 2 hours after a heart pumping race and an exhausting spar. Both hedgehogs had wordlessly flopped back in mutual agreement as their sore muscles eventually caught up with them and spread under their skin like wildfire. Under the pale cool glow of the moon, they sprawled out on the grass in a comfortable silence, neither hedgehog offering even a snarky quip. Even after they began courting, races, spars, and banter were no less common. Thankfully, some things never change.
Shadow's train of thought was brought to a halt as he felt something shyly skirting the edge of his pinky, daring to inch forward. Without even hesitating, the agent grabbed a hold of Sonic's hand in one smooth and silent motion.
And it was then that he was reminded about Mobians’ intense fixation with hands.
His fingers clench unconsciously around Sonic's. The warmth radiated even from within the confines of fabric. Shadow's mind ponders. He's never seen Sonic's hands in the past for obvious reasons. But now that they're closer than ever, he wonders. Are they the same color as the rest of his arms? Do Sonic's hands have paw pads like his own? How much different are they underneath the white cotton they hide behind?
Unless it's an emergency, Mobians only show their hands to those they trust.
The dark hedgehog contemplated. He looks back at the blue speedster. Sonic's eyes were focused upwards at the inky black sky, no doubt counting the glittering stars that spotted the vast void. Shadow's eyes dropped back to their joined hands reading peacefully between their bodies.
The agent somewhat regretfully pulls his hand away from the comforting grasp, catching the cobalt hero's attention. Shadow lifts himself onto his elbows until he is in a sitting position.
“Hm? Getting tired, Shads?” Sonic tilts his head curiously. Shadow doesn't miss the way that the hand Sonic had been using to hold his started fidgeting slightly.
Shadow shakes his head in response. He hesitates, debating whether or not to voice his intentions. But words don't come easy to him. He isn't even sure how to approach such a sensitive subject, considering the weight surrounding it. He lets his actions speak for himself instead as he reaches for one of his wrists. With a dull click, his inhibitor rings drop to the grass with a thump. Sonic's ears press forward, alert with interest. Emerald eyes glanced suspiciously between the fallen gold rings and Shadow’s hands.
Sonic's pupils dilate substantially as Shadow sheds himself of his cuffed gloves.
Despite being in a steady relationship with the other, Shadow doesn't know what to expect. Sure, Shadow could process the information that hands were important to Sonic's culture, but as a Mobian raised by humans, did he truly understand what it meant to Sonic? Perhaps it's because of this, he didn't really see the big deal. Not yet, at least. His hands were black like the rest of him, save for the red running across his middle and ring fingers, extending even onto his claws. His paw pads were also black with splatters of pink dotting random areas.
Even if he didn't understand the hype yet, it was clear that this meant a lot to the hero. Shadow looked back at his partner. Sonic's gaze was one of pure wonder. The blue speedster looked ready to jump out of his seat, bouncing subtly on his knees. It was endearing sight. Sparkling verdant irises looked up hesitantly to meet Shadow’s gaze.
“Shads? Can… can I…?” the hero trails off, seemingly unable to ask the rest of his obvious question. Shadow answers by extending his hand towards Sonic.
Shadow chuckled as the younger hedgehog wasted no time grabbing onto the appendage with the energy of a child in a candy store. Shadow let his hand go limp, letting it comply to Sonic's tugs and pulls. Sonic tilted his hand every which way, to various angles. His thumbs rolled along the bumps of Shadow's knuckles with an uncharacteristic slowness that Shadow would never have thought possible for the blue blur. Sonic rolled his hand over, palm facing up to get a better look at his paw pads. The younger hedgehog's gaze softened, like he was looking at valuable gems and not just Shadow's palm.
“Oh, wow! They're pretty,” he whispered, mostly to himself, marveling at the marbled pattern on each bean. Shadow vehemently pretends that he doesn't feel the rising heat in his cheeks.
The hero pressed both thumbs against the center pad directly in the middle of Shadow's palm. He gently squeezed it and rolled it around between both thumbs. The younger hedgehog looked genuinely happy with something so simple, enough to start wagging his little tail even. His attention shifted from the center pad to the smaller beans along Shadow's fingertips, eagerly squishing each bean between his own fingers. Maybe Shadow understood the custom a bit better as he watched the sheer happiness radiate from his partner at the mere act of offering his hand.
Shadow was not sure how much longer he let Sonic fiddle with his hands. It must have been a fair amount of time, because Shadow had eventually realized he spaced out at some point, only brought back to attention by the sudden loss of Sonic's hands on his own.
The child-like awe and fascination had melted away from Sonic's demeanor, and suddenly, the young hero seemed to be strangely anxious as he sat back on the grass to put space between him and the dark hedgehog. “Timid” is not a word that should describe the world renowned Sonic the Hedgehog. But “timid” is exactly what Sonic was at the moment. His blue furred ears swiveled in different directions before finally setting on pinning backwards, his usually defiant eyes refused to meet Shadow's as he fidgeted with the cuffs of his gloves, and his peach colored muzzle betrayed a hint of red flushing at his cheeks. It was jarring, to say the least.
“Faker?”
Before Shadow could ask what was wrong, Sonic began peeling his own gloves off, placing them carefully next to Shadow’s own discarded ones revealing two identical, fawn colored hands.
Unless it's an emergency, Mobians only show their hands to those they trust.
Somehow, it all clicked at once. Of course, Shadow knew Sonic trusted him on a basic level. Despite their rocky beginnings, the two would evolve into reliable allies, further into a deep sense of companionship. Sonic trusted Shadow with his safety. That much was obvious. But Sonic also trusted Shadow with his vulnerability. Something Sonic never lets the world see. Heroes can't be seen as weak, after all. Shadow silently takes the hands offered to him.
Sonic's hands are lovely. His fingers are long and slender with a certain softness to them. Perhaps from barely being exposed to outside hazards, but the back of both Sonic's hands are almost baby soft. Sonic's claws were much duller compared to his own, a potential sign that the younger hedgehog clips them regularly. But as pretty as they were, Sonic's hands were capable of throwing punches with blistering speeds and, while not as strong as his legs, still packed a force to be reckoned with.
Like the other had done to him earlier, Shadow had admired every aspect and every angle of the hands offered so willingly to him. He flipped them over several times, before keeping Sonic's palm upwards to get a better look at his paw pads. Bright, shiny pink beans rested against peach fur innocuously. They were smoother in texture than Shadow’s own rougher paw pads in a way that reminded Shadow of jellybeans. They were infuriatingly adorable. They made Shadow want to spindash into a wall or hit something really hard for some reason.
Instead of resorting to violence, he refocused his attention. His finger brushes along the bottom of Sonic's metacarpal pad, enjoying the contrast between fur and keratin. He circles it a few times before squishing the top like Sonic had done to his own earlier. He won't lie, it was amusing. Maybe he was starting to understand both human and Mobians’ fascination with so-called “toe beans.”
Even while sharing moments of reprieve with the other, he's never seen Sonic so motionless. Sometimes the hero would kick in his sleep or bounce his leg if he wasn't fully asleep. He'd tap his fingers or stretch his limbs. If it weren't for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, Shadow would have thought he was facing a very elaborate statue. His anxiety seemed to have melted somewhat, but was still present since he was watching Shadow with trepidation. This really WAS a big deal to Mobians if Sonic wasn't moving.
“They're nice.” He says in an attempt to break whatever tension was holding Sonic hostage. The hero's shoulders slacken visibly, seemingly relieved at the break in silence. Soon after, the blue hedgehog huffed.
“They're ‘nice?’ Just nice? Gee, thanks!” Sonic's tone was playful, but his eyes betrayed him yet again. Clearly he still had some reservations. Shadow rolled his eyes and gave him a smirk.
“Fine, they’re cute.” Shadow isn't disappointed in the way Sonic's face reddens deeply, stumbling over his own tongue trying to think of a witty rebuttal.
“I…. You…! That's–”
Shadow doesn't give him the chance to think of a smarmy comeback and sees a chance to steal a kiss from fumbling peach lips earning him a shocked yelp. This idiot drives him crazy. Shadow wouldn't have it any other way. He pulls away and is met with an indignant pout that, while endearing, is nowhere near threatening as the hero probably hopes.
Shadow doesn't pay him anymore mind and instead continues exploring the curves of Sonic's hands. He idly presses again at the large center pad before eyeing the small pink beans at Sonic's fingertips. They were so round and small and they were such a light shade of pink that somehow suited the hero perfectly. Shadow really doesn't know what possessed him. Before his own brain could process his actions, he was pressing Sonic's thumb against his lips. He could feel the young hero tensed right back up from surprise at the sudden action.
Shadow turns his mind off as he lets himself nuzzle and mouth at each pad, giving every one devoted attention, even letting his tongue poke out to give them a miniscule lick. Sonic's breath hitched every time his fangs caught on smooth keratin, only further adding the desire to lick and nibble. Sonic looked like he was one second away from a heart attack, yet he remained silent and did nothing to interfere, opting to observe with undivided focus. Shadow didn't miss the way the speedster's tail was thumping against the ground even harder than it had when he was exploring Shadow's hand.
He flipped Sonic's hand over again and let his lips graze serenely across the hero's knuckles, allowing himself to leave a kiss directly on the back of Sonic's hand. They both sighed as Shadow returned to the spot he previously sat on, unsure of what to even say. Sonic's smart mouth simply seemed sealed shut. He looked like he wanted to say something. But all he did was open and close his mouth uselessly.
Shadow decided to close the gap between them, grabbing his waist firmly and pulling the younger hedgehog against him. He tugged them both backwards until their backs collided with the grass, staring back up at the pitch black void of the night sky. Sonic put up no resistance, instead letting the other lay them back.
Shadow would definitely like to talk about the whole hands thing with Sonic later. He thinks it would be interesting to hear from the hero's perspective on the matter. But for now, he couldn't be happier just lying on the dirt and grass with a now purring boyfriend curled comfortably into his side. Sleep isn't a necessity as the Ultimate Lifeform, but between his content mood and the hypnotic rumbles of his partner, he catches himself drifting between awake and asleep. Before he can fully embrace sleep like his partner, he makes sure to tangle both of their bare hands together, letting his fingers cling tightly around peach ones.
Shadow decides that Mobians' customs around hands make a lot more sense now.