Work Text:
The river narrowed to a stream leading to the mouth of a cave, a grassy walkway on either side leading into the rocky opening. Sonic paused, hands on his hips, staring into the maw with reservation. Just behind him, Fang made an irritated sound, causing Sonic to look in his direction and ask, “What’s the issue?”
“I’ve had about enough of cramped, suspicious places.”
“Samesies, but so what? We go in or we go home.” Fang stood rooted, pale blue eyes scanning all around the area, at the twisting ferns and sloping hillside, as if searching for another option. “Hey, nothing’s happening this time,” Sonic promised. “You’re with me.”
Fang glanced at Sonic and held his gaze. At last, he gave a resigned nod. They followed the grass path in. After a brief period of darkness, the passageway opened into an enormous underground cenote cavern. The rocky ceiling had an opening at the top, vines from the hillside spilling in through the gap, along with a thick beam of sunlight which caused the water below to gleam a bluish green. Several metal structures stuck up from the pool like scaffolding, levels of ramshackle housing, businesses, markets, and common areas, stretching all the way to the top of the cavern. Walking bridges connected everything, forming a crisscrossing support system that kept the entire place sturdy. Long, narrow gondolas driven by a single rowing oar shuttled people in and out of the cavern. There was so much going on, an entire village in hiding.
“Man, check it out,” Sonic breathed, stepping out of the shadows and into the huge grotto. He pointed to a large sign made up of big aluminum letters, none of them matching. “Hydrocity,” he read, saying the name as one long word.
Fang joined him but argued, “That’s not what is says.”
“Is too. I’m lookin’ right at it.”
“Hydro City,” Fang countered.
“What – now you wanna fight?” Sonic sassed him. “Thought we were saving that.” He took off towards the city, forcing Fang to follow at a jog. Fang still had that big, bulky convertible rifle on his back with the tight, wide crosswise strap. Because it was broken down, you couldn’t immediately tell it was a weapon; it just looked like gear. But he could assemble it in ten seconds should the need arise. Fang wasn't hard to please as long as his needs were met and he believed he could outgun his opponents.
There were more people than Sonic had seen since he was a hoglet in Mobotropolis, and everything was a little overwhelming. Children yelled as they played down near the banks. There was the thumping beat of music, the scent of fried foods, shouts of heretics, shop barkers, and streetwalkers. Sonic stopped in the middle of it, staring around in awe. Fang snagged him by the arm and led Sonic out of the thick of Hydrocity. Not Hydro City. Nope. “You can’t just wander into strange groups, ya weirdo. Don’t you know better?”
Sonic pictured the cannibal hyena tribe and reluctantly consented to follow Fang’s lead. The weasel dropped his arm, and Sonic stuck close, watching Fang’s keen eyes and the slick movement of his body posture as he prowled the selection of bazaar offerings. “Whatcha looking for?”
“A tech setup.” They found one, little more than a street-side table strewn with cables and circuitry. A spider monkey in a wide-brimmed hat looked up from his wares. Fang set Nicole down heavily on the table, keeping his hand over her. “I need a charger for this.”
The monkey grinned, exposing a few missing teeth. “No please?”
Fang didn’t budge. “Can I pay you in compliments or do you want coins?”
The grin faded, and the monkey ducked behind the table to root around in a box of goods. Fang picked Nicole up and clipped her back onto his belt. The monkey popped back up and set a charging disk on the table, keeping a hand over it the way Fang had. “Forty-five.”
Fang snarled. “It’s worth twenty.”
“The cost of please.”
After a snort, Fang produced a roll of credit coins and began counting them out. Sonic edged closer to watch. He’d never seen a currency exchange. “Pleasure,” the monkey cooed, sliding the charger over. Fang palmed it and stalked away.
“Need a place to get Nicole back in action,” Sonic stated.
“On it,” Fang said. He asked a few questions, knowing his way around an urban setting. Shortly, they found themselves at a small inn that, once again, Fang paid for.
The attendant at the desk was an older lady with greying hair. “Goodness,” she said, gawping at Sonic. Thinking he’d been recognized, he proudly puffed out his chest. “I haven’t seen that quill style in over a decade. It’s the kind of thing an old man would wear.” Fang, to his credit, didn’t laugh out loud, but his eyes did light up. Sonic fumed, embarrassed. He’d styled his triple fin ‘do after Uncle Chuck, who, as a child, he’d thought was the coolest person. So, yeah, he supposed he did have the fashion sense of an old man. Yikes.
The door to the room stuck upon opening and Fang slammed into it a few times to get it to cooperate. The space wasn’t much to look at – a side table, a lamp, a chair, and one twin bed. “Is this it?” Sonic asked.
Fang removed Nicole and focused on attaching her to the charger. “Hey, you’re cleaning me out here. You want another bed, you pay for it. Hostels are all like this. Same as in Lower Mobius.”
The statement took Sonic by surprise. “What do you know about Lower Mobius?”
Fang set Nicole down on the side table to charge. A little red light came on at the bottom of her device. “What do you know about Lower Mobius? They’re part of The Underground.”
“Duh. No kidding. Literally underground.” Sonic sat down on the bed. It was hard, but it was fine. He wondered which of them would end up on the floor that night.
“No, no. The Underground.” One of Fang’s eyes crinkled in confusion. “Don’t you get it?”
Sonic scratched his head, confused. “Is this a riddle?”
“They’re a neutral zone, kid. They get to profit off both sides.”
Sonic took offense. Just because Fang refused to pick a side didn’t mean others did the same. “No way! They’re fighting the good fight!”
“Is that what they told you?” Fang took a seat in the chair and put his boots up on the edge of the bed. The tip of his rifle poked up behind him.
“I mean… yeah?”
Fang shook his head, looking absolutely confident. “There were five fallback zones. Only five. Now, there’s less.”
Sonic frowned, and the more he thought about it, the more he suspected Fang was right. Griff had rubbed him the wrong way from the onset. The place was too well outfitted, too centrally located, and too exposed to just be lucky. Boy, Sally was gonna have a fit when he got back and told her. A notion came to him, and his ears pricked fully upright. “Hold up. How did you know there were five groups?”
“Grabbed the file off a network system a while back.” Fang waved his hand loftily, as if no big deal. “Gave it to somebody I shouldn’t have.”
Sonic put his hands above his head, simulating large, upright ears. “A sassy black cat? Kinda emo scene?”
“I – yeah,” Fang stammered, looking shocked. “How’d you –”
“Small world.” Sonic’s mind spun. All in all, there weren’t that many people operating to foil Robotnik. Made sense that a bunch of folks knew each other. He glanced at Nicole. A countdown next to the red light showed 23:48. Sonic puffed a long exhale. She’d need to charge for twenty-four hours. They had a whole day to blow. “Do I really look like a child?” he wondered, the old lady’s words gnawing at him. “You always call me kid.”
“Kind of,” was Fang’s curt response. Sonic let his head fall back and gave a short groan. “You wanna change that?” Sonic’s head tilted forward.
A short while later, they were back on the promenade. While Fang cashed out the remainder of his account, Sonic upgraded his look on Fang’s tab. At a posh storefront with a display of mirrors, Sonic examined his new style. A wore a russet-colored neck gaiter with teeth on it, and had changed his quills, abandoning the stiff, aerodynamic fins for a freer-flowing style. His modern design featured six bushels, three rows of two. He wasn’t sure if he’d made the right decision, thinking he was letting go of a small piece of his uncle. His old life seemed very far away, and, wow, he was kind of lonely. Plus, it felt a little weird to be away from Fang. They hadn’t really been apart for the last six days. Only six? Man. An entire lifetime had happened since they’d met on the ice.
When Sonic stepped out of the storefront, Fang didn’t immediately see him, looking down at the fresh roll of coins in his hand. But when he did, his eyes went wide, and he got very still. “You look –”
“What?” Sonic tossed out rapid-fire suggestions, striking a variety of poses. “Dashing? Sauve? Stylin’?”
“Older. Definitely older.”
“Oh.” The compliment caused a pleasant warmth to tickle his ribs. “Mission accomplished.”
Fang gave a fraction of a smile that actually met his eyes. Sonic swelled with pride to get that much. He waggled his head from side to side, getting used to the new distribution of weight in his spines. Fang lifted a hand like he was going to touch Sonic’s quills but caught himself and lowered it. He looked embarrassed and said, “Hey, uh, you hungry?”
A giddy sort of feeling took root in Sonic, like pressure building. It made him a little light-headed, and he said, “You read the ol’ mind. Starved.”
They followed their noses to a café and took seats side by side overlooking the grotto. The light coming in through the roof of the cavern had shifted, sending blue moonlight to bathe the waters below. Their server, a young marmoset girl on roller skates, came by and gave some sort of signal with her hands. Fang sat upright, and he and the girl got into a silent exchange of complicated hand gestures. When she skated away, Sonic asked, “What was that about?”
“Didn’t know what you liked, so I got a bunch of stuff.”
Sonic looked over his shoulder and then back at Fang in wonderment. “That was talking? Wow. Mondo rad. Where’d you pick that up?”
Fang tipped the brim of his hat down, hiding his eyes. “Around. Been a lotta places. Seen some things.”
“Guess so,” Sonic said, impressed. “Looked cool.”
Fang glanced up a little and seemed more at ease. They sat for a bit, Fang’s arms folded on the table, Sonic’s cradling his face while they watched skippers moor the boats for the night. Several channels snaked into darker recesses of the cavern, waterways to other locations. What they saw of Hydrocity might only be a portion of a much larger urban sprawl. “Never imagined places like this were around,” Sonic admitted. “It’s not exactly my speed, but I see the appeal. Way odd seeing money. Thought we’d moved past that.”
“People are just people, tryin’a get by.”
The waitress on skates came back and delivered a whole platter of food. Fang put a thick stack of coins directly into her hand, and she beamed before she left. He didn’t seem as upset paying her as he had the tech monkey from earlier. Sonic leaned forward over the spread, inspecting. “Is that spicy?” he asked, pointing to a bowl with dark red liquid.
Fang broke a set of chopsticks apart. “Looks like.”
“Slammin’. I love spicy.” Sonic launched across Fang to reorganize the plates and bowls. Fang’s face reddened at the shifting, lifting his arms out of the way, holding each chopstick high. They settled into eating, watching the city bustle around them. Laughter and chatter rode the air as the two of them shared quiet camaraderie. Street music drifted their way, and a few people broke into a drunken tavern song. It all felt airy and ethereal, out of focus as if this was someone else’s story Sonic had barged in on. The food, the music, the atmosphere – this seemed like the kind of elaborate setup Antoine would plan if given the chance.
Sonic almost choked on his noodles. Was he on a date? He swallowed and peered at Fang, who was clearly staring. The weasel glanced off, bringing a bowl up to his mouth. Sonic twirled his chopsticks and hummed to himself. “Sorry about the – well, you know – the money stuff. I’m not used to that.”
“It’ll come back to me,” Fang said, giving a cocky, dangerous smirk, “once those Stones are mine.”
Sonic scoffed. “Left to be determined. We’ll see about that.” At the end of this, one of them was likely to end up with nothing. That was a problem for tomorrow, though.
As they wrapped up their meal, the music built in complexity and scale, causing a congregation under twinkling streetlamps. When they stood, Fang asked, “Time in your schedule for tunes?”
Sonic tilted his shoulder at a coy angle. “Figured you’d wanna take me out with a bullet, not out dancin’.”
Taller Fang gave a smug grin and leaned over him. “You’re making me choose?”
Sonic slid a hand under Fang’s rifle strap and snapped it as a rebuke. Fang hissed and rubbed his chest as Sonic backed into the crowd, laughing. The music was synthetic and loud, with a bass that rattled Sonic’s bones. They had to put their heads close to talk, mostly about small observations – a silly outfit, a cool pair of shoes, the tech monkey from that afternoon singing along with the tunes. Playing at flirting gave Sonic a thrill. He'd grown comfortable in Fang’s presence and enjoyed his company. He differed from anyone he’d met, and they were alone here, outside of their normal responsibilities. They weren’t touching, but the air between them felt charged, ruffling Sonic’s quills. Over the music, he teased Fang about the amount of coin he’d given the server. “I guess I know a ladies’ man when I see one, m’I right?”
“Sometimes,” Fang shouted in his ear, the warmth of his breath giving Sonic a shiver. “But I’m more of a gent’s gent.” Sonic gave a start as if ice water had spilled down his back. Fang clapped Sonic on the arm, sparking an electric jolt. “Sit tight. Be right back.” Fang wove through the crowd, heading toward the tavern bar top.
Something heavy sank into the pit of Sonic’s stomach, threatening to drive him straight through the walkway and into the water below. His breathing turned shallow, and he stood in the middle of the dancing crowd like a statue.
His future was supposed to be Sally. He hadn’t considered other options – just thought himself incapable of romantic love. Memories played like a slideshow in his mind, and it all came together. Things with Sally had never been one-hundred percent comfortable and had resulted in pushing her away for good. He noted how he had acted two years ago with Griff, someone taller, older, who only had eyes for Sally, and the jealousy he’d felt. The year prior, there’d been Ari, who was taller and older, only spoke to him, and how infatuated and possessive he’d been with the attention to the point where he’d let his judgment get clouded.
When Fang held up two bottles of soda at the bar, one orange and one green, his mouth went dry. Now, there was Fang, who was taller, older, gave his undivided attention, and looked at Sonic in a way no one ever had. Fang wasn’t exactly handsome. He didn’t have Griff’s full lips or Ari’s broad shoulders, but there was an honestly to him – ugly and raw and real. His sharp angles were striking enough to be interesting, and his body serpentine and slinky. He made Sonic feel safe. Not that his life felt inherently dangerous. A different kind of safe. Emotional, he guessed. With Fang, it was okay to just stop, stop running, stop posturing, stop the bravado. Sonic didn’t try to impress Fang, and the guy was impressed anyway. Fang didn’t need him to be a hero, didn’t care about that side of him. He might be the first person who didn’t view Sonic as a weapon to be used for or against something.
Sonic finally breathed, heaving a deep gasp. He wasn’t broken – he couldn’t feel this way about Sally, or girls, and that knowledge was scary. His fear wasn’t about Fang, but about the knowledge that he wasn’t the way others expected him to be. He’d come of age soon, closer to being the next king, but he didn’t get a choice in that. His future was a stone tablet.
Poor Fang was still at the bar, wiggling the bottles in the air. Sonic pointed to the one on the left, some neon green concoction that looked toxic but intriguing. Green meant go, safe to proceed, full charge, and correct guesses. It felt like giving Fang permission to continue with… what this was. What if Sonic was wrong, misreading everything and making an idiotic assumption? Fang was so guarded that it was hard to decipher his intentions. Sonic decided to play it cool for now and let things play out.
Fang came back with the bottle and a short glass of something murky that smelled like smoke and honey. The soda tasted like mint and lime, refreshing after Sonic’s private meltdown. He sipped his drink and focused on being present. “You good?” Fang said in a loud voice over the music.
Sonic gave a tight, rapid nod. “Swell. Five-by-five.” Fang narrowed his eyes, as if sensing the lie. By the time Sonic finished the soda, he felt better, and less likely to make a fool of himself. Fang casually sipped his drink, looking around and seeming at ease. The playlist shifted, giving the crowd a break from the high-paced music to a set more geared towards couples and the type of people that knew how to dance. Sonic held out his hand. “You game?” He’d taken the same classes Sally had and knew a series of dances.
Fang looked dubious, and one ear drooped. “Seriously?”
“When am I not serious?” Sonic folded his fingers a few times in a come-here motion. “It’s easy. I’ll show ya.”
Fang took Sonic’s bottle and his glass and set them aside. “This a plan to embarrass me?” he asked.
“You know it.” Sonic took Fang’s hands and led with the rhythm. “Do what I do.” Fang stared down, watching their feet. Once he had it, Sonic said, “Eyes up.” Glacial eyes sent a shiver down his spine. “You… your eyes are silver,” he sputtered, finally placing the color.
“Yeah?”
“Just… they’re cool.”
“Oh. Thanks.” They stepped and they stepped, other couples smiling genially as they passed. Couples? Whoa. What? Sonic’s heart rate soared. Time seemed swollen and heavy, pressing a tension down upon them. What they were doing wasn’t inherently romantic but provided a jittery closeness Sonic wasn’t prepared for. He tried not to hold Fang too tightly. Though Fang drank, he remained clear-eyed and lucid, but his smiles were less guarded. To fill the silence, Sonic blurted, “Do you ever, ya know… still feel like Nack?”
Fang’s face scrunched, like he was digging deep for an answer. “No,” he answered slowly. “Tried going backwards. Didn’t work.”
Sonic wondered if he’d ever get the full story, if he’d even take it well. “So, what now?”
Emboldened, Fang drew Sonic close and then sent him into a spin. The return sent Sonic crashing into him, grabbing him around the waist for stability. “Looks like I go forward.”
Heat crept up Sonic’s neck at their new pose. “Yeah. Heh. Makes sense,” he blathered. They kept dancing.
Their conversation reached a lull, and Fang asked, “When do we stop?”
“Any time you want. No biggie.” Sonic raised his hands and backed off. Was he ruining this? How would he know?
Fang gathered him back up. “Hey, didn’t say I was done.”
And because why not, Sonic put his cheek on Fang’s chest. His head was spinning. This had been a game of saucy looks and coy gestures. It had started as a joke. They were still joking, right? He didn’t know how much was just teasing, how much was real, or what was just in his head. Sonic felt crushed, scared of taking the wrong action. He almost laughed. Him, scared. Of Fang. No, that wasn’t right. Of breaking something that was so fragile, it may not even exist.
Later, they walked along the cavern shores, getting some air below the city while coming down from an exhilarating evening. The water was dark and still, and the skippers had gone home for the night, letting them have the beach to themselves. City lights reflected off the surface like stars. “When’d you know?” Sonic asked, strolling along the silty bank. The sand was soft beneath his sneakers. “That… well…” He palmed his nape in discomfort. “That you liked boys?”
Fang walked next to him on the inland side. “Same time I knew I liked girls,” he said matter-of-factly. “You?”
“Eh… about forty-minutes ago?”
Fang came to a stop and looked a little stunned. “Really? How, uh… how’s that sitting?”
Sonic traced a toe through the sand. “Just, ya know… processing.”
They stopped to stare at the impressive city above. “Might miss places like this once I go back,” Fang mentioned, thankfully shifting the conversation. “You can do things here. Live, maybe not free, but on your own account. Set up a real life. Has an appeal.”
“What if we didn’t?” Sonic asked, looking over at Fang.
Fang faced him. “Didn’t what?”
“Go back. What if we stayed out here on the road, seeing the whole world?”
Fang looked mildly interested, ears raising slightly. “You’d ditch the war?”
“Well, no. Not forever.” Sonic lifted a shoulder. “Call it a siesta? Feels like I’ve been fighting my whole life. It’s all I know.” There was so much outside of Knothole and Robotropolis, and he felt like he was missing out on all of it. People needed him though, and he didn’t have the luxury of stepping away. “This has been a good time. Mostly. Wrecking some robo-toys, checkin’ the sights. And… I like you.” Fang stood straighter, a blush creeping over his white muzzle. “I rate it seven-outta-ten.”
From a bridge above, someone on the night crew whined, “Look at this walkway! We’re gonna haveta work all night. Rust and algae? C’mon. It’s too much.”
“That’s Hydrocity for you,” another responded, sounding the city name out in one long word.
Sonic perked up. “Hey! It is Hydrocity! Ha! I was right the whole time!” He turned to Fang, flashing a winning smile. Fang stared at him, unmoving, eyes huge. “What?”
Fang surged forward and kissed him but immediately pulled back and flinched. It took less than a moment. A tingle rushed through Sonic’s body as he stood dumbfounded with his mouth parted. It was the second time someone had kissed him without permission, and the first time he’d wanted it. Sonic pulled Fang in by the rifle strap and reignited the kiss. Within seconds, Fang’s hands took Sonic’s face, guiding him.
Okay, first – Sonic had been kissing all wrong. This weightless flush of heat was brand new. As were the sensations. Soft, hard, wet, dry, open, closed. And angles. Angles, angles, angles, enough to get lost in. Fang tasted smoky and sweet, just like his drink. Kissing Sal had been fun; he’d made a game of it where sometimes he’d show off, sometimes he let her shine. In comparison, kissing Fang was thrilling, like a fall off a high-rise. Second – he was glad it was Fang, someone who hadn’t seen him grow up, didn’t need his help, didn’t value his abilities. Fang wanted him for who he was, not what he could do. He slid his hands over Fang’s shoulders, not wanting to hold back, riding the rush.
They stayed on the beach, kissing for probably twenty minutes straight. The strain between them grew, building outwards until it popped, and they broke the connection. They leaned back, panting, Sonic’s heart pounding in his ears. He wasn’t used to being out of breath, and it made him a little dizzy. Fang had a grip on the back of his head and an arm around his back. Sonic’s fingers had entwined in the tufted fur of Fang’s cheek with the other hand boldly pulling him in by the hip. “Okay, okay,” Sonic relented. “The trip went up to an eight-point-five.”
Fang breathed a chuckle. “That’s it?”
“Hey, man. It’s been a rough road.”
Their noses touched. “Valid.”
They went back to the disappointing hostel, finding Nicole still with a way to go. Fang offered Sonic the bed, finally slipping the convertible rifle off his back and the hat off his head. Sonic sat on the bed, making himself small on one side. “Look, you don’t have to sleep on the floor. Let’s be grown-ups about this. New ‘do, new me, right?”
Slowly, Fang crossed the space and settled down gingerly on the unoccupied side, like atop a basket of eggs. Since they’d already kissed, Sonic debated trying anything. He was pretty sure he could, and that Fang would go with it, but since Fang seemed tense, he opted to call it enough for one day. Sonic palmed off the lamp. As they rested, enough light shone in through the off-kilter door that he could see Fang’s outline and his eyes shining in the dark. “Kid?” Fang asked, his voice a tight whisper. “Are we friends?”
A long silence followed. Sonic’s lips tingled, and a heaviness sat in his chest he couldn’t explain. “I think that’s the wrong word,” he replied honestly.
When they slept that night, Sonic wrapped an arm around him, and Fang gripped his hand. Truthfully, this might have been his favorite day.