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Maybe it was a stray pebble.
Maybe it was a pesky crack in the old, worn road.
Or, maybe, somewhere between the flurry of emotions whirling in his chest, newfound excitement for a return to their perpetual game, and the (somewhat disruptive, but ultimately… exhilarating) change of pace over the last few weeks, he simply tripped over his own clumsy paws.
Whatever the reason, as Kevin and Paige headed back into the city far behind him, Wile E. Coyote suddenly found himself unexpectedly lurching forward, tumbling head over heels and plowing face-first into his rival – his counterpart, his… companion in a blur of bright blue feathers.
“Beep beep?!”
A split-second backwards glance and a slightly startled chirp at impact, then Road Runner was on the ground, rolling with Wile E. in a speeding ball of blue and brown, off the path of the road and across the vast dusty desert landscape.
Wile E. shook his head once the dust settled and slowly opened his eyes. A multitude of curious, friendly orbs hovering above him coalesced into one pair of eyes peering back.
A few seconds passed. Wile E. hesitated, his chest still heaving, back pressed firmly to the ground. Road Runner only blinked at him.
He made no move to get up. Not a single twitch.
Wile E. leaned up on his elbows, every muscle in his wiry body tense and ready to pounce, but he fought against his instincts and waited, his own heartbeat roaring in his ears.
Road Runner beamed down at him, cheerful as ever, his crest feathers framed and shimmering in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun.
His friend.
Wile E's brows knit together, another well of pure emotion drawing an inexplicable wetness to his eyes again. Clumsily, he felt around for a sign in his hammerspace until his fingers finally grasped around a familiar wooden handle. He held it up, his hand shaking.
Road Runner's eyes flicked to it, then back.
“Beep beep.”
Yes.
Of course I came.
How could I not?
I missed you more than words can describe.
I'm so glad you're safe.
The tears finally escaped, soaking into the coarse fur of Wile E's muzzle. His shoulders slumped, his sign plopping to the ground.
He only realized now that it was blank.
He sniffed and scrubbed the pad of his palm across his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then, he looked back up to meet Road Runner's warm, welcoming gaze with a million questions running through his mind.
Their eyes met once more, and before Wile E. could blink, Road Runner had swooped forward and pressed his forehead firmly against Wile E’s own.
Wile E's next breath caught in his throat. He swallowed thickly.
A content little shiver ran through the length of Road Runner's body, his feathers puffing out into a heap of floof.
“Beep beep.”
He trilled soft and sweet, an unmistakably affectionate, heartfelt little sound – a whisper meant only for Wile E's ears.
Because I love you, silly.
Wile E. didn't have enough time to process that answer. In an instant, Road Runner had the coyote enveloped in a tight, all-encompassing embrace, warm, fluffy feathers suddenly surrounding his entire form. Stunned, Wile E's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. His heartbeat kicked up a notch (which Road Runner almost certainly felt).
Slowly, ever so slowly, Wile E. found his arms responding of their own accord, twining themselves around the bird and hugging him back. He buried his face in plush, velvety feathers and let his fingers stroke gently over his friend's indigo wings, savoring the sensation of soft downy feathers and impossibly warm skin against his nose and breathing in his scent, committing it to memory.
All these years – decades, actually – that they'd been at this endless chase, Wile E. had always assumed Road Runner was making fun of him. Mocking him and rejoicing in his constant failures. Laughing at his injuries and perpetual humiliation.
But… no.
Road Runner had not, in fact, been making fun of the coyote all this time.
He'd been having fun alongside him.
He'd bore witness to Wile E's pain and suffering and was saddened to be reminded of it.
Are you coming back?
The clear, unmistakable translation of Road Runner's plea to resume their game, their companionship still resounded at full volume in Wile E's ears. The desert bird's look of pure worry and desperation still lingered in his mind's eye.
He'd missed him.
He… loved him.
Wile E. gripped Road Runner just a little tighter. Road Runner responded with a sudden vibration that reverberated through Wile E's chest, a low buzzing from deep in his throat. His purr drew out into a steady, comfortable rhythm, and he nuzzled his beak lovingly against the top of his coyote’s head.
With the bird held snug and steadfast right here in his arms, Wile E. could no longer deny that he felt exactly the same way.
In fact, he felt… full.
He felt full in a way that he'd never felt before – a way that nourished much more than just his belly. It was as foreign to him as it was intoxicating.
After nearly 80 years of ceaseless hunger, Wile E. Coyote finally, finally felt nothing but completely sated in every sense of the word.
Somehow, that feeling alone was worth it all. It was worth every minute of his pain and suffering.
Just as Wile E. had begun to drift off, lulled by Road Runner's soft purring and content to simply fall asleep right out here in the middle of nowhere, his feathered mate wiggled slightly, loosening himself from Wile E's embrace.
Wile E. reluctantly let his arms fall away and cracked open one eye to see Road Runner's signature bright smile. He couldn't help but mirror that grin. Then, quick as always, Road Runner pressed a distinct, purposeful smooch to his coyote’s snout, blew a raspberry in his face, and sprung up from the ground to speed off onto the long stretch of road from which they'd tumbled.
Wile E. bolted upright, the shock of the kiss lingering in sparks of electricity dancing all the way to the tips of his paws, his cheeks going hot. He absently brought a clawed hand to his lips.
It really does taste like sponge cake…
“Beep beep!”
Road Runner's impatient call from the distance asking so, are you coming? was sweet music to Wile E's ears.
Of course he was coming.
He'd follow his dear elusive, enduring, brilliant Road Runner anywhere his carefree little legs wanted to run. Always.
As he scrambled to his feet to catch up, Wile E. Coyote had the subtle yet unquestionable inkling that he'd never go hungry again.