Work Text:
07:30:14AM
punctuality was something agent stone had prided himself on ever since young, for he had always been on time. always.
so when he was late to report to the lab by exactly 14 seconds, he knew robotnik would notice. the second he stepped into the lab, he could feel it—a shift in the air. the doctor was already standing there, arms crossed, wearing his usual stern expression, but there was something different about today. something sharper. stone’s stomach twisted with the nervousness he hadn’t been expecting.
now, why exactly was stone late?
well, the truth was this.
you see, it was his and robotnik’s one month anniversary together.
he’d woken up extra early, gotten the bouquet of flowers, and taken extra care in arranging them—hadn’t he? unfortunately, he sort of may have taken slightly longer than anticipated to arrange the flowers, and now that he was late, the guilt gnawed at him, making his heart race as he stood awkwardly in front of his dear, beloved doctor.
meanwhile, the older man didn’t say anything at first. he just stared at the clock.
after all, the agent usually arrived early—early enough that robotnik could get a few minutes of work in before the constant drone of his assistant’s voice. but today? today was different. there was something off, and it bugged robotnik.
“sorry, sir,” stone muttered as he walked over to the doctor’s desk, but his voice was softer than usual, like he was hiding something.
robotnik’s lips curled into a smirk.
oh, this was going to be fun.
“hm. you’re late, stone. you do realise that, right?” he remarked, his tone heavy with sarcasm. “fourteen whole seconds, y’know? didn’t think you were capable of that.”
“sir, i sincerely apologise for my tardiness, i—”
“what could possibly have been so important?”
the agent flinched, but only slightly. quickly, he tried to step forward, but the flowers he was holding behind his back were awkwardly shifting, threatening to fall out from where they were hidden.
oh?
robotnik’s gaze immediately went straight to stone’s arms behind his back, curiosity flickering behind his eyes. stone’s hesitation did not go unnoticed. “what’s this?” robotnik asked, his voice growing more dangerous, more determined, like a cat toying with its prey. “you’ve got something behind your back. i wonder what it is.”
the agent shifted, uncomfortable. it wasn’t that he didn’t want to give robotnik the flowers—it was the timing, the vulnerability that came with it. his heart raced at the thought of robotnik’s reaction, the possibility of him dismissing it or, worse, mocking him. this was a mistake, a stupid mistake.
“stone.”
“doctor.?”
“show me.”
“…”
“stone.”
stone didn’t respond immediately. his hands tightened around the flowers, as if debating whether or not to show them. a hundred thoughts were rushing through his mind. this was a mistake, he thought. this was dumb. robotnik didn’t need these. he didn’t need anything. he was too sharp to be impressed by something like flowers.
hence, the younger man hesitated, fingers curling tighter around the bouquet. he could feel the sweat beginning to bead at the back of his neck, his stomach doing flips. he didn’t know what he expected, but this wasn’t it. he could already hear the mocking words in his head, the laughter, the coldness.
“come on, stone,” robotnik pressed suddenly, snapping stone out of his thoughts. his tone was flat now but still unyielding. “you’re holding back. do you think i can’t guess?”
“sir—“
“tsk. don’t be stubborn now. come on,” the doctor pressed, leaning back in his chair, eyes narrowing in impatience. “show me, stone. i dare you.”
stone sighed, resigned.
this was a mistake. a huge one, even.
he wasn’t good at this kind of thing, wasn’t good at offering pieces of himself without the guarantee of understanding. slowly, he brought the flowers out from behind his back.
and for a moment, the doctor said nothing. his eyes scanned the bouquet, taking in the variety of flowers.
instantly, the agent’s heart started to beat faster as he waited for robotnik to either mock him or tear the flowers to pieces. his throat tightened. robotnik was… unpredictable, especially when it came to matters like this.
..but then, robotnik did something unexpected. he didn’t mock him. he didn’t crush the flowers. instead, he examined them, his brow furrowed in thought as he took the bouqet in his hands.
the shorter man felt a chill run down his spine, but he forced himself to stay still. he’d bought these with meaning behind them—every flower in this bouquet was handpicked. he had researched them all, calculated exactly what each one meant, what message it sent. strength, devotion, admiration.
he had hoped robotnik would understand that.
“stone, i.. what is the meaning of this?” robotnik’s voice had softened, a hint of confusion in it now. he hadn’t expected this. stone could see it in the way he held himself, the way his posture stiffened ever so slightly.
the shorter bit his lip, ready to speak, ready to explain himself, to offer a justification for the flowers. but before he could, robotnik’s voice cut in, casual as ever.
“black dahlias,” the doctor stated, his fingers brushing the petals gently, as though he had all the time in the world. “they symbolise elegance and strength. i suppose you think of me as strong?”
stone’s heart skipped a beat. that was exactly what he’d meant.
“orchids,” robotnik continued, not waiting for an answer. “mysterious, refined, and beautiful. you always were fond of mystery.”
stone swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. he hadn’t expected robotnik to get it. not so easily. “y-yeah,” stone mumbled, voice shaking. “that’s what i—”
“shh. don’t interrupt me, agent.”
“..i’m sorry—”
“red carnations,” robotnik continued, as though stone hadn’t spoken at all, completely absorbed in the flowers. “admiration and love. do you admire me, stone? is that what this is about?”
“sir—”
”ah-ah-ah! no talking.”
stone’s face burned. his hands shook slightly as he gripped the bouquet tighter. robotnik was analyzing the flowers, his mind moving through the meanings, piecing them together like an intricate puzzle. stone had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable.
“lilacs,” robotnik murmured, inspecting the next flower, his voice barely audible. “first love. a bond.” he paused, eyes flickering up to stone’s face, a strange look in his gaze. “do you feel that way, stone? like we’re bound?”
“i—”
stone’s throat tightened.
the words completely died in his throat when he glanced back at the doctor, only to find that robotnik didn’t look angry, or disgusted, or mocking. he just seemed… intrigued. the quiet analysis was almost too much for stone to handle. he didn’t know if he should say something, or if silence was the best response. but the longer robotnik stared at the bouquet, the more vulnerable stone felt.
“lavender,” robotnik murmured, inspecting the next flower, his voice low. “calm and peace. hm. is that what you want? peace between us, stone?”
“doct-“
“and camellias,” robotnik said, finally. “devotion, admiration, perfection.” he met stone’s eyes then, his expression unreadable. “aw. how cute. you think i’m perfect, do you?”
“of cour—”
“of course i’m perfect, stone. that was a rhetorical question, you mindless imbecile.”
…?!
stone didn’t know what to say. his heart was pounding in his chest, and for a moment, he thought he might faint. the room felt too hot, the air too thick.
“jesus, stone. you really, really are a sycophant, aren’t you?”
“i… i didn’t mean for the flowers to come across like—” stone began, his voice cracking.
but robotnik held up a hand to stop him. “quiet,” he murmured. “i see it now. i understand.”
stone stood there, unsure of what to do in such a situation, but just before he could even think of responding, the doctor.. surprised him. he surprised the agent by ruffling his hair, his touch oddly gentle. the younger man stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, the small comfort somehow easing the tension in his chest. robotnik didn’t seem furious. he wasn’t upset. no, in fact, he seemed accepting of the fact.
and honestly?
stone didn’t know what to say. he felt too exposed now, like the taller man had picked apart everything he had tried to convey. it was too much.
“thank you,” robotnik muttered, almost too quietly for stone to hear.
…
what?
stone blinked, genuinely not sure he’d heard that right. “pardon?” he asked, leaning in.
“tsk!” the doctor didn’t look at him, but he didn’t need to. his tone was still cool, detached. “you stupid sycophant. i said, thank you,” robotnik repeated, though it was barely a whisper. then, his voice hardened once again. “now, get back to work. oh, and for being late? do pushups. fifty. now.”
…
ah.
there was the robotnik he knew.
the agent’s stomach flipped, but he obeyed nonetheless. there was no arguing with the doctor when he was in this mood. thus, he dropped to the floor, his mind still racing, but he had to focus. the flowers were still on the table, their meaning lingering between the two.
as he pushed himself up from the floor after the gruelling set of push-ups, he looked over at robotnik, who was now completely absorbed in his work. the man never showed much emotion, never showed weakness. but stone had caught the brief flash of something softer when robotnik had looked at the flowers.
he smiled a little to himself.
“happy anniversary, sir.”
“neh. not the words i wanna hear.”
“huh? bu—“
“do not make me repeat myself, agent.”
after a moment, stone gathered the courage to say it—just barely above a whisper. “i love you, ivo,” he had uttered out, knowing damn well that robotnik might not hear, or might not care since it probably wasn’t the words robotnik wanted to hear either, but it felt good to say it anyway.
to his surprise, robotnik didn’t say anything right away. he shifted in his chair, his eyes still locked on the work in front of him, but his lips tightened, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
stone continued, finishing the last of his planks and standing up. robotnik’s voice was low when he spoke again, almost a breath against the silence of the room.
“..i love you too, stone,” he murmured, just as quietly as stone had spoken, barely audible.
the agent didn’t answer immediately, however. he simply just let the moment sit there, in the air between them. it was enough.
and as he turned to get back to work, he glanced at the flowers once more, a quiet sense of peace washing over him. the bouquet was still on the table, and for once, it wasn’t just a symbol of what he’d given to robotnik. it was a reminder of something else—something that didn’t even need to be uttered aloud.