Here is a Sonadow one-shot that I wrote a few months back. I’m going to start putting my fics as tagged blog posts on here!
I’m going to start posting a fic or chapter a day, depending, for a while! That’ll be fun!
Below is the graphic for the fic, then the tags to check out before reading! Enjoy!
Tags: Shadow the Hedgehog/(Super) Sonic the Hedgehog, verse top/bottom Sonadow, Dominate Sonic the Hedgehog, marathon sex, wet and messy, rough sex, sexual overstimulation, inappropriate use of a flashlight, pre-relationship, vaginal sex, anal sex, rimming, cunninglius, fingering, consensual somnophilia
It’s the middle of the night but the light is brighter than any sunrise that could have ever graced the next day.
That’s the first thing Shadow notices when he finds Sonic in the clearing— that awful, blinding gold that usually fades after a few minutes has stretched into its third hour, and Sonic was kneeling in the grass with his arms wrapped around himself like he was trying to hold his body together.
“Sonic.”
The name comes out sharper than Shadow intends it to. He kills the hover skates and drops to the dirt. The grass around Sonic had scorched black in a perfect circle. Tiny arcs of chaos energy snap and crackle along his spines.
Sonic’s head lifts.
His eyes are all wrong. That luminous ruby red, yes— but glassy. Unfocused. His muzzle has gone pale beneath the golden glow. And when he tries to speak, his voice comes out in a raw scrape, “Shadow? That you?”
“Who else would be stupid enough to track you down at three in the morning.” Shadow’s paw flexes as he adjusts his inhibitor rings. “You’ve been super for four hours. It’s frying your nerves. De-transform.”
“Tried,” Sonic croaks.
Shadow’s ears flatten. “What do you mean tried?”
Sonic’s laugh is a hollow, rattling thing. He gestures vaguely at his own chest, where the chaos energy pulses brightest, the bone cage around his heart visible through the bursting glow, illuminating twin, horizontal scars along his pecs. “Mean I can’t. Won’t let go. Like… like my body forgot how to be normal. S’like the emeralds are stuck in my ribs and they don’t wanna leave.” His voice cracks. “I don’t— Shadow, I don’t feel too hot.”
That admission, more than anything, makes Shadow’s blood ice in his veins. Sonic doesn’t admit to weakness. Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t sit in the dirt in the middle of nowhere with his teeth chattering while his body blazes like a small, smoldering sun.
“How long?” Shadow kneels. “How long have you been like this?”
“Dunno. Lost track after the second hour. Everything’s… loud. And quiet. Both at once.” Sonic’s quills rise and fall with each quaking breath. “My skin feels like it’s on too tight. And I’m cold. How am I cold, Shadow? I’m literally on fire.”
Shadow reaches out. The moment his glove touches Sonic’s arm, static discharge snaps between them, hard enough to make his fingers go numb. He doesn’t pull back, however.
“Your chaos signature is destabilizing,” he says, voice careful, level. “Overclocked. The emeralds usually cycle energy through you and then release. Something’s blocking the release valve.”
“Great. Fantastic diagnosis, doc. Got a cure?” He grits his teeth so hard Shadow can hear the squeak. Black ears flick involuntarily.
Shadow doesn’t answer immediately. His mind is already racing through possibilities— force the emeralds out, risk cardiac arrest. Wait it out, risk neurological damage. Chaos energy isn’t meant to sit in a mortal body this long. Even his own engineered physiology would strain under it… and he’s designed for this. Sonic is flesh and blood and a will too stubborn to know when to quit.
And that could be what kills him.
“We need to bleed the excess energy,” Shadow says slowly, the words feeling heavy as the slide off of his tongue. “Your body needs a way to discharge what it can’t process.”
“Okay. How?” He wobbles, brows knit low and fussy.
“There are… methods.” Shadow’s jaw tightens. The most efficient methods are all physical. Extremely physical. The kind of exertion that forces the body to reset its baseline. Combat, usually. But Sonic can barely sit upright let alone fight, and picking a brawl with him in this state would just accelerate the damage.
The other method was older. More fundamental. The body’s most primal circuit-breaker.
Sonic seems to arrive at the same conclusion a beat later. Even through the fever-flush and the tremors, a ghost of his usual grin flickers across his muzzle. “Oh. Ohhh,” he clicks his tongue before wincing again, “you mean that kind of energy burning. Shadow, didn’t know you were so sweet for me.”
“It’s the most reliable option.” Shadow cannot and will not look Sonic in his blazing eyes, turning away with a huff. His arms cross over a fluffy, white billow in a last ditch effort to hide his feelings.
“Sure. Yeah. Except—” Sonic’s breath hitches as another wave of chaos static ripples through him. He doubles over, digits digging into the scorched earth. When he speaks again, his voice is thready. “Except I can’t feel anything. I mean I can feel everything, but it’s all the same song. Like my nerves are playing one long note and I can’t… I can’t pick out the melody anymore.”
Shadow’s chest tightens.
“I don’t know if it’ll work,” Sonic continues and now there’s something desperate beneath the bravado. Something wanting.. “I don’t know if I can even— if my body will—” He stops. Swallows. “I just want it to stop.”
The silence that follows is broken only by the crackle of chaos energy and the distant sound of wind whistling through the pines. The sound of Sonic’s knee hitting the blackened earth beneath him with a wince.
Then Shadow stands upright, pulling off his gloves, and bites his lip before saying “Let me help you.”
The abandoned cabin is a quarter-mile from the clearing. Shadow half-carries Sonic there, bearing his weight when the hedgehog’s legs buckle, ignoring the way the chaos discharge makes his own fur stand on end. By the time he kicks the door shut behind them, Sonic is trembling so badly his quills rattle against Shadow’s shoulder.
The cabin’s interior is sparse— a woodstove, a cot shoved against the far wall, a rug that had seen better decades. Shadow lowers Sonic onto the cot. The golden glow paints strange shadows across the rafters in swirling patterns.
“Lie back.” His bare paw makes its way to Sonic’s forehead, the contact sizzling hot.
Sonic obeys, which tells Shadow everything he needs to know about how bad this really is. Sonic never obeys. Sonic argues, quips, and finds some angle to needle at. But he just sinks into the thin mattress and ruffles sheets with his eyes half-lidded and his breathing too shallow. And Shadow feels something cold and sharp lodge itself behind his ribs.
Why did this have to happen now? The lingering feelings he’s held for Sonic jingle in the back of his mind, a wind chime on the porch of his heart. But they are far past the porch now, this feeling like a wild and wet dream. The fact that it’s a reality they have to face together makes it a lot less ideal, then if it were a figment, a fantasy whispered from the rocking chair at the edge of the porch.
He kneels beside the cot. The floorboards creak under his weight. “Tell me if anything changes. If you start feeling more— or less. If the energy shifts.”
“Mm.” Sonic’s eyes track him sluggishly, red glazed and reflective in ways they shouldn’t be. “You’re really gonna do this.”
“You asked for help.”
“Did I? Don’t remember asking.” A weak grin. “Might’ve implied.”
Shadow doesn’t grace that with a response. He rests his paw on the thin mattress next to Sonic’s midsection instead. With his gloves already off, his bare pads brush the overheated, plush fur of Sonic’s belly, peach and fuzzy and unbelievably soft; yet the contact sends a jolt through them both.
Sonic hisses. His hips twitch.
“Too much?” Shadow stills.
“No. Just… weird. Your paws are so cold, dude.”
Shadow’s gaze lowers to the apex of Sonic’s spread legs. “They’re normal temperature. You’re running hot.”
“Story of my life.” Sonic’s laugh dissolves into a cough. “Go ahead. Happy to have a bro helping me out.”
Shadow chooses to ignore that wordage. He is not Sonic’s bro.
Slick glistens, golden in the shimmering light cascading off of Sonic’s fur, smeared across his inner thighs. The seam of Sonic’s sex is hardly containing itself, pulsing and swollen and… Shadow carefully drops his paw further down, taking two of his digits to spread the seam. It parts so easily for him… he feels his dick stir with interest inappropriately in his pouch.
Sonic’s cunt is already so, so, so wet, a glittering glob trailing down his pussy towards his asshole, some of the sticky mess landing on the base of his tail. The bundle of nerves at the top is sticking so far out from its hood that it nearly looks painful. Thorbing, likely matching his heartbeat, visibly.
Holy shit…
“When did this start?” Shadow is all but drooling.
“Dunno. Hour ago? Two?” Sonic’s head lolls to the side. “Everything’s kinda blurry. Thought I was gonna throw up for a while. Then I just got… hot. Different hot. Like my insides were melting and the only thing that helped was—” He gestures vaguely at his own lap. “This.”
“And you didn’t think to mention that beforehand? How much have you done.”
“I mean… I just humped my palm a little bit and was getting nowhere real fast,” he shifts his weight to the other hip. “Wasn’t exactly the first thing on my mind. Hey! Shadow, by the way, my pussy’s been throbbing for like two hours straight, just FYI—”
“—Enough.” Shadow’s voice comes out rougher than he intends, wetter than he intends. He positions himself between Sonic’s thighs, palms resting on the golden-fuzzed thighs and takes a breath. The scent is divine. “Try to stay still.” Earthy, slightly floral. No doubt a nature aroma, even if Shadow isn’t too sure what kind of flower he’s dealing with.
Sonic is eerily quiet, still— his labored breathing the only sign the sunflower is still with him.
Shadow lowers his mouth. The first stroke of his tongue is painfully slow, likely for everyone involved, from the tight ring of muscle all the way up to his throbbing cock.
He wants to gauge what they are working with here, and the answer is, as to be expected: a lot.
Sonic’s taste floods all of his senses, salty-sweet and electric, literally electric, a faint buzz that numbs his lips and makes his jaw tingle. The chaos energy is so concentrated here that it almost burns.
Sonic makes a little sound— not a moan, exactly. More like a punched out exhale. His thighs tense against Shadow’s shoulders where the sable hedgehog has placed them.
“How’s that feel?” His restraint his solid steel, bending and bowing with every passing second.
“Weird,” Sonic muses. “I can tell you’re doing it. I can tell it should be… something. But it’s like listening to music through a wall.”
Shadow pulls back just enough to speak. “I’ll go harder.”
“Knock yourself out, dude.”
“Don’t call me that when I’m doing this to you.”
Shadow eats pussy the way he does everything else of great importance— with focus, with precision, with a single minded intensity that borders on aggression. His tongue parts slick folds and finds the shape of Sonic beneath them, the heat and the texture and the faint pulse of chaos energy that hammers like a second heartbeat. He licks broad stripes from entrance to dick, then short flicks against the hood, until he bullies the tip of his tongue under it. He gives Sonic’s arousal and tentative suck. His reactions come in a frustrating, painfully lax lag.
A hitch of breath three seconds late. A twitch of the hips that seems almost surprised moments after Shadow does some fancy work with his digits. A paw finding Shadow’s quills and gripping— not guiding, just holding, like Sonic needs help staying on balance despite being sprawled out on his back.
“Is this doing anything?” Shadow growls against wet flesh.
“Maybe? Keep—” Sonic’s voice snags. “Keep going. Something’s… something’s building up.”
Shadow keeps going alright…
And Shadow also loses track of time. Minutes blur into the rhythm of his mouth, the ache in his jaw, the way Sonic’s slick coats his chin and drips down his wrists. He works two fingers inside and crooks them forward, searching for the spot that should be making Sonic scream, and when he finds it, the reaction is muted— a sharp inhale, a full body shudder— but nothing like what it should be. Shadow starts to wilt at the thought, perhaps he’s doing this all wrong, not helping Sonic at all—
“Close,” Sonic pulls the hybrid from his spiraling. “I think I’m close. Shadow, I’m—”
Shadow feels the muscles clamp around his digits, sees Sonic’s back arch off the cot, hears the strangled cry that tears from his throat. But it’s over in seconds. Sonic collapses back, chest heaving, gold light flickering like a candle in the wind.
“Did that help?” He pulls away, a string of slick webbing from his chin to Sonic’s entrance lewdly.
Sonic blinks at the ceiling. “I… yeah. A little. The buzzing’s quieter.”
“How much quieter?”
“A little.” Sonic’s throat bobs. “Do it again.”
Shadow’s brow furrows. “I’m trying to help—“
“I know. So do it again. I need—” Sonic’s paw finds the back of Shadow’s head and pushes him face first into his cunt, not gently. “I need more. It’s already building again. It’s like I didn’t even— like it barely registered. Please.”
That please does something to Shadow’s composure. He’s never, ever heard Sonic say please, not like that, not with his voice raw and his eyes fever bright and his body stringing together tight as a knot.
He pushes Sonic’s legs impossibly further apart, the flexible hedgehog above him whining.
The next orgasm takes longer to build. Shadow has to really work for it— paws and tongue and the rough friction of his thumb circling Sonic’s dick while he licks deeper, harder, until his jaw aches something fierce and his lips go literally numb from the sparking chaos discharge. Sonic’s paws fist in his quills, thighs clamping around his ears. He makes sounds that are almost words, broken syllables that might have been Shadow’s name or might have been nonsense, and when the climax hits, it’s barely stronger than the last peak.
“That’s.. I’ve already lost count,” Shadow says, licking his lips and rubbing comforting circles into downy thigh fur. “Status?”
“Still buzzing.” Sonic’s laugh is a half-sob. “Still buzzing. What the fuck is wrong with me.”
“Your nervous system is saturated. The first few are just clearing the noise floor.” Shadow sure does hope his estimates are doing anything to help soothe his friend.
“Great. Cool. How many do you think that’ll take?”
Shadow doesn’t answer. He is instead already repositioning himself, already settling back between Sonic’s thighs. His tongue is starting to feel too thick for his mouth, his jaw clicking from the sustained pressure, but Sonic’s skin has cooled a fraction and that’s enough to keep him going. He’s got to help him. Sonic would do the same for him—
—With that fleeting thought, Shadow feels his own cock finally slip from his pouch. Leaking and heavy against his thigh.
“Undetermined,” he says, and goes right back to work.
Shadow has learned the landscape of Sonic’s cunt by now, the specific flutter that means there, right there, the way Sonic’s prick likes pressure more than speed, the shallow thrust of two digits against that spongey wall that makes his hips jump. He uses all of it. While he doesn’t have any experience in this sort of play, Shadow is a faster learner and competent playmate. He’s methodical, relentless, and when Sonic (finally) comes again a sharp, almost violent convulsion that leaves crescent-moon marks on Shadow’s scalp— the golden glow dims perceptibly.
“Better,” Sonic breathes. “That was… better.”
“How much?”
“Maybe twenty percent. I could actually—” He sighs wistfully. “I felt that one. In my teeth.”
Shadow sits back on his heels, assessing. Their progress is measurable but slow, and his own stamina is dwindling. The chaos discharge is taking a toll— his paws are tingling, his lips are numb, and his jaw pulses with a dull ache. But Sonic’s eyes have focused a fraction. His voice has steadied. The tremors have subsided from violent to manageable.
“I need a minute,” Shadow admits. “Hydration. Then we continue.”
He finds a canteen in his pack, pushing past a flashlight, a pack of rations, a few belts and pouches— and drains half of it. Sonic watches him with those glassy ruby eyes, expression unreadable. In the short time Shadow’s spent not neck deep in his pussy, he’s returned back to looking extremely out of it.
“You don’t have to do this,” Sonic wobbles.
“No, I don’t.”
“I’m serious. If it’s hurting you—”
“It’s not.” Shadow caps the canteen. “And even if it were, I’m not leaving you like this. Move over.”
He stretches out on the cot beside Sonic, propping on one elbow. This close, the heat radiating from Sonic’s body is oppressive, dry and electric and humming at a frequency that makes Shadow’s quills vibrate in sympathy. He reaches down and finds Sonic’s cunt again, this time with his paw, sliding through the mess of slick and his own spit lazily.
“How do you want me, Sonic?” he questions against Sonic’s ear. “I want you to tell me what you feel. Exactly. Every detail.”
His digits push back inside.
Sonic’s head falls back. His mouth opens. The sound that comes out is lower than before, less desperate, more present. “I feel, hah, your knuckles. Against my—” His hips roll. “Yeah. There. I can feel that. I want you to do that to me…”
“Good. What else?”
“Your thumb. It’s— you’re not…”
“I’m not what?” Shadow has to stop himself from biting down on Sonic’s flicking ear.
“Doing anything with it. It’s just… there. Resting.”
Shadow presses down. Sonic’s dick is a hard pearl under the pawpad of his thumb, and when he circles it slower, slower, and impossibly slower Sonic’s whole body clenches around his digits as he hooks them back into that fluttering wall.
“That,” Sonic gasps. “I can feel that.” He adjusts himself to rest his forehead on Shadow’s shoulder, he hot breath exhaling on his neck in soft little puffs.
The next orgasm builds like a real thing. Shadow watches it happen— the flush spreading across Sonic’s chest, the flutter of his eyelids, the way his breath starts skipping beats. His digits move faster, bullying deeper, and his thumb works Sonic’s cock in tight spirals that have his thighs shaking. When Sonic comes, his spine bows off the mattress and a sound tears out of him that is almost a sob, and the chaos energy flickers so violently that the cabin’s single window cracks from corner to corner in Shadow’s peripheral vision.
He’s beautiful, even drooling down his collarbone and sniveling incoherently. A masterpiece. Shadow was crafted with perfection in mind but to him, perfection trembles next to him on the shabby cot.
Shadow pulls his paw free. His digits are dripping, the paw pads pruned from prolonged contact with hot, hot slick. “Status.”
“Holy shit,” Sonic whispers. “Okay. That one. That one was real.”
“How much improvement?”
“Fifty percent? Sixty?” Sonic’s chest heaves. He turns his head, meeting Shadow’s eyes for the first time in minutes. “Shadow, I could do this all night. I could— I think I literally could do this all night. I’m not getting tired. Are you getting tired?”
Shadow doesn’t answer. His jaw is on fire. His wrist is starting to cramp. His own body is making demands he’d been ignoring— the heat coiling low in his belly, the ache of his neglected cock, weeping mournfully against his own toned thigh.
“I’m fine,” he states.
“Let’s take a longer break. Shadow—“
“—I said I’m fine.”
He pushes himself upright and positions himself between toned runner’s legs again. The cot creaks under their combined weight. His pelvis rubs against the drenched folds on Sonic’s sex, his mess ruining the sheets stretched over the thin mattress.
“I said we should take a break.”
“I heard you. Request denied.” Shadow’s thumb presss against the inside of Sonic’s wrist, feeling the chaos energy thrumming there like a live wire. “But you can barely sit upright. You’re feverish. Your coordination is shot. If we break now, I fear we’ll lose what little stability you’ve regained and we’ll be back where we started.”
Sonic echos Shadow’s own sentiment. “I’m fine—“
“—You are not.” Shadow releases Sonic’s wrist and sits up, swinging his legs off the cot. The floor is cold against his bare pawpad. “You’re functional enough to talk, which is an improvement… but your body is still saturated. The most efficient discharge method right now is the one that requires the most physical exertion from the person who isn’t actively destabilizing.”
Sonic’s laugh is brittle and broken. “So you’re gonna fuck me until I’m better? That’s your professional diagnosis?”
“Yes.”
The word hangs between them, blunt and unapologetic. Sonic’s breath catches. Even through the feverish haze, something flickers in his expression. Something Shadow hopes is hunger or lust or anything that will keep them both going.
“You’re serious,” Sonic slurs. “This is crazy.”
“I don’t waste time on jokes.” Shadow stands, rolling his shoulders. The movement makes his quills rustle, and he can feel the ache in his jaw, the deep burn in his wrist, the persistent throb between his legs that he’s been ignoring for way too long. “Just face the wall and let me take care of it. Enough banter.”
Sonic stares at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he pushes himself up. His movements are unsteady but functional, and he manages to turn over and get his knees under him without falling. His paws brace against the rough wooden wall beside the cot, trembling but stable enough.
“Like this?” His voice drags in a way that sounds so unlike Sonic it makes Shadow’s heart fall into his stomach like a sinking ship.
“Yes.” Shadow moves behind him. The heat coming off Sonic’s body is so intense, crackling and electric, and the gold glow paints everything in sharp, warm tones. “Stay still.”
He doesn’t bother taking his time. Sonic has made it crystal clear he doesn’t need to be handled with care. His cock is already out, already slick with precum, and the sight of Sonic’s cunt swollen and dribbling slick down his thighs make something in Shadow’s chest go tight and hot. He lines up, one paw on Sonic’s hip, and pushes inside with no more preamble.
The noise Sonic makes is less a moan and more a full body exhale. His back arches, quills rattling, and Shadow feels the chaos energy spike around him, snapping against his fur like a snap. The heat is incredible— Sonic’s body running hot enough that Shadow’s cock feels warm like the blast of heat from a fireplace on a too-snowy day.
“Can you feel that?” Shadow prodes. His voice comes out all kinds of strained.
“I— yeah. Yeah, it’s— but it’s like before. Muffled.” Sonic’s digits curl against the wall before they go slack and he slides down it a bit, going somewhat limp.
Shadow pulls back and slams in again, harder this time, enough force to make the cot frame groan and Sonic’s breath punch out of his ragdolled body. The angle is perfect, too perfect, slick and hot and despite having crumpled onto the mattress, Sonic’s whole form squeezes him. He honestly has to put effort in not to cum too quickly…
“Harder,” Sonic gasps, cheek squished against the sheets, drool seeping from his muzzle. “I need— I can barely feel you. It’s like you’re not even— Shadow, harder. C’mon, man!”
Shadow grabs a fistful of Sonic’s quills, yanking his head back, the other paw holding his hips up to piston down into him at that delicious angle. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much.”
“It won’t be… I don’t think it can be.” Sonic’s chortle is wild, unsteady. “I think you could break me right now and I wouldn’t even notice. Doesn’t that— doesn’t that do something for you?” His voice wavers with the force of Shadow’s thrusts but otherwise sounds steady.
The hybrid has to temper himself, pull resolve from the thinning air of the cabin, to not lose it on Sonic’s pussy and tear into it with reckless abandon. This isn’t about his own dick, this isn’t about the tension that’s been building between these two for years and years and years.
He drives in deeper, harder, the cot slamming against the wall with every thrust. The sound is obscene, wet and rhythmic and punctuated by Sonic’s ragged breathing. Shadow’s grip in Sonic’s quills tightens, twisting just enough to hurt, and Sonic’s body clenched around him harder, a high pitched noise muffled by the damp, crumpled sheets.
“I-I felt that one,” Sonic chokes. “Keep going… really hard, Shadow. Like you mean it.”
Shadow shifts his angle, aiming for the spot that made Sonic gasp earlier, and when he finds it, the reaction is immediate. Sonic’s thighs turn fully into jelly, his whole body sagging further onto the creaking cot, and a broken sound claws its way out of his raw throat.
The velveteen clench seated around Shadow’s dick is possibly the best feeling he’s ever experienced in his life’s
“Again,” Sonic slurs. “Right there. Again.”
Shadow gives it to him again. Again and again, until his thighs burn and his breath comes in short, sharp bursts and the golden light around them flickers like a dying star. His own orgasm is building, coiling hot at the base of his spine, but he holds it back, focused entirely on the tight, wet heat of Sonic’s cunt and the way it seems to pull him deeper with every stroke.
“Close,” Sonic gasps. “I’m close, I’m close, I’m—“
His body seizes. The peak of his own pleasure hits him like a too-strong wave he didn’t seem prepared for, muscles clamping down so hard Shadow has to stop moving aside from shallow pushes forward, buried to the hilt while Sonic shudders through it. The chaos energy discharges in a visible rippling pulse, blinding light flaring bright enough to cast shadows on the walls, and then dims, extremely noticeably this time.
Sonic ragdolls, forehead pressing against the wall. “Better, but…“
“Status,” Shadow manages.
“Sixty percent. Maybe sixty-five.” Sonic’s voice is garbled. “I could feel it in my chest. Like… like my heart finally remembered how to beat right.” He turns his head, one glassy eye finding Shadow’s matching rubies. “Keep going, dude. Why’d you stop?”
Shadow pulls out, earning a hiss from Sonic. He stumbles off the cot, grabbing the canteen with trembling paws. The water is warm and metallic and does nothing for the fire spreading through his limbs.
“You’re tired,” Sonic mutters. He lays on the bed, one of his legs tucked under his chest to elevate his bum while the rest of him is splayed out every whichaway. “Shadow… Shadow I need it, I’m starting to feel better. I can’t… how long can you do this?”
“I can keep going—“
“—For how long?” Demanding brat.
Shadow opens his mouth then closes it again. He doesn’t have an answer for that. The truth is, the physical exertion has been creeping up with him, but stopping isn’t an option. His usual stamina is being sapped by the chaos energy looping between them. His whole body is screaming at him, but no… they can’t stop. Not when Sonic’s glow is visibly dimmer, when the tremors have mostly stopped, when there is finally real progress.
Shadow puts the canteen away and moves back to the cot’s side. When he puts his paw on Sonic’s thigh to nudge him around, it takes him a full ten seconds to react.
Sonic’s ears flick upward. He moves slowly, turning over and lying back on the thin mattress. Shadow wastes no time covering the marigold-clad hedgehog’s body with his own, pressing him into the lumpy cot. The angle is different like this, fat to face, close enough to see the fever bright flush across Sonic’s muzzle, close enough to watch his own reflection in those glassy red eyes.
It feels intimate, too intimate, too much like Shadow’s private fantasies. But all wrong— no playful push back or the chanting of quips, and all labored breathes and foggy, red marbles.
Shadow lines up again, pressing forward slower this time, letting himself feel every inch. Sonic’s lack of reaction hits too deeply, a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake after you try to skip it along the surface and fail.
“Shadow,” Sonic slurs, legs lazily lifting as if they are too heavy for his frame. “I can— I can feel your heartbeat. Through your cock. Is that weird?” golden limbs hook behind sable hips and with a surprising amount of force, juts Shadow forward resulting in him bottoming out.
“Y-Yes,” Shadow rolls his hips, grinding his teeth. “But so is everything else about this situation.”
Sonic titters, head falling back onto the mattress limply. “Harder. You can do better than that, Mister Ultimate Lifeform.”
And then Shadow is impossibly rougher this time. He fucks like he his truly trying to break something, and maybe he truly is. The exhaustion is making him sloppy, less controlled, and Sonic’s endless libido pushes Shadow to work twice as hard for every twitch of a response.
His own orgasm edges closer closer, closer but he pushes it off the edge of the table and lets it shatter on the floor like broken glass.The sounds of Sonic gasping all too late, his thighs squeezing him occasionally, their eyes meeting… After a few minutes he’s delusional— chortling and smiling wide like this is amusing to him. Shadow is pounding directly into the wall of Sonic’s cervix for a solid ten minutes without letting up. Sonic’s frame, as well as the cot’s, squeak under his pistoning hips with every thrust.
The next orgasm catches Sonic mid-laugh. His chuckling dissolves into a sob as the climax tears through his trembling form. And this time the discharge is stronger, a visible wave of gold light that crackles along Shadow’s skin like static. For a moment, Shadow can’t breathe, air caught somewhere between his pounding heart and constricting windpipe. Then the light dims, and Sonic goes limp beneath him once more, chest heaving.
The sable hedgehog opens his mouth, to ask but—
“Seventy,” Sonic wheezes. “Seventy-five.”
So Shadow doesn’t stop. He can’t. Despite his fatigue, the way Sonic’s cunt is still trying to milk him, still as tight and wet and hot as when he first dove in. His long-delayed orgasm is slamming its fist against the base of his spine now, knocking on the door of his poor life choices.
He drives in deep and grinds, rhythm stuttering, and when Sonic’s paw finds the back of his neck and pulls him down, he buries his face in Sonic’s overheated shoulder and finally lets go.
The peak hits hard enough to completely white out his vision. His whole body locks up, hips snapping forward in short, involuntary thrusts, and he spills inside Sonic with a broken grunt. The release is more intense than it should’ve been, more intense than any orgasm he’s had in years, and it leaves him in tremors and pants.
His lungs burn. His cock twitches inside the wet heat of Sonic’s cunt, still hard, still aching.
“…Shadow?” Sonic squirms beneath him, hips pushing up and jostling his dick still buried deep at an angle that makes him moan, embarrassingly loud and candid.
“I’m here,” Shadow manages, wobbly and exhausted.
“Good.” Sonic shifts beneath him. Then suddenly the world tilts. Shadow finds himself on his back, staring up at the rafters, with Sonic straddling his waist. The golden glow has returned, brighter now, and Sonic’s eyes are sharper, focused, burning. He places one paw on the ruined sheets next to Shadow’s head, the other on his upper arm. He can feel the dripping, damp cunt on his abdomen slide with Sonic’s movements.
“My turn,” Sonic says. “You got off. I didn’t.”
“Sonic, you’ve been getting off all evening,“ the sunflower’s strength is returning in spurts, his hold shifting to Shadow’s forearm is rough enough to likely bruise even him, the bones hidden beneath bowing under the force of his peach-clad grip.
“Doesn’t count.” Sonic’s grin is feral, all teeth. “I’m still buzzing. Can’t you hear it?”
“No, Sonic, you are just too wired to think straight right now.”
“I’m not done,” Sonic continues. “I don’t think I can be done. Not until this stops.” He presses his palms flat against Shadow’s chest, gold light glittering outward at the points of contact. “But you’re gonna be done soon. You look like a dried up autumn leaf, Shadow. All withered and tired.” He shimmies in slow circles with his hips, further soaking the black fur there further.
“Flattering.”
“Just telling it like it is.” Sonic lifts himself up and back, one paw reaching behind him to guide Shadow’s still-throbing, still-hard cock home. “Don’t worry. I’ll do all the work.”
Sonic’s golden form sinks down. And despite the overstimulation, Shadow worries he might cut loose again, all too soon.
Because the sight of Sonic riding him— that shimmering, glowing body moving above him, quills swaying, head thrown back, yeah, this is definitely searing itself into Shadow’s retinas.
Sonic doesn’t have to ease into it. He sets a brutal pace immediately, hips rolling and bouncing like he’s trying to drive Shadow through the cot. The slap of skin-on-skin echoes off the walls, loud and wet, and the heat of Sonic’s cunt around his oversensitive dick is almost unbearable.
“Sonic,” Shadow’s paws find fluffy, sunrise hips. “S-Sonic, you’re incredible, I-I—“
“Shhh.” Sonic leans forward, one paw planting beside Shadow’s head between his squished, upturned quills. “You did your part. Now shut up and let me chase this.” He rotates his hips, grinding down in a circle that makes Shadow see stars. “Besides, you’re still hard. Your body wants it even if your brain’s too tired to admit it.”
It’s true. Shadow’s cock is still rigid, still leaking, still somehow hungry for more even though every nerve ending screams at him to stop. But he can’t look away, can’t stop watching the way Sonic’s face crumples with pleasure. Not the muted, delayed reactions from before.
His muzzle wrinkles cutely as he slams his body forward, his weight making the pressure on his prick impossibly tighter, his pussy leaking and wetly slapping against him, his ajar mouth, a little trickle of salvia dribbling down his muzzle—
“I can feel you,” Sonic muses, his voice is truly in awe. “I can actually feel you. Every inch. It’s like— it’s like my nerves were waiting for me to be in control. Has it always felt like this?” He hardly registers Sonic’s babbling.
“S-Sonic…” Shadow manages, his short circuiting brain supplies him with the idea to kiss Sonic.
But that’s far too intimate for rivals, too much for helping a bro out.
“It feels like lightning.” Sonic’s hips snap down hard. “Like drinking sunlight. Like I could run around the world and never stop.” His voice cracks at the end. “Like I’m finally real again.”
Shadow’s paws slides down to find Sonic’s thighs, gripping hard enough to bruise. The golden light is flaring around them now, pulsing with the rhythm of Sonic’s movements, and Shadow can feel the chaos energy bleeding into him, hot and electric and overwhelming.
“I’m close,” Sonic gasps. “Shadow, I’m— I’m gonna—“
Sonic’s back arches, his mouth flies open in a silent scream, and the chaos energy discharging in a shockwave that cracks the window the rest of the way and splinters the floorboards and sends Shadow’s quills standing straight on end. His own orgasm follows at the display above him, ripped out of him against his will, and his world is briefly cascaded completely in brilliant gold.
He rides it out impossibly further when he feels Sonic squirt so hard it hits Shadow in his already slicked-up chin. Holy shit.
When Shadow finally returns to the land of the living, Sonic is still moving. Still rolling in short, greedy circles, still clenching around Shadow’s softening cock like he can’t bear to let it go.
“More,” Sonic demands, oddly coherent, like he didn’t just splat Shadow in the face with cum. “I need more. It’s not— I’m still not—“
Shadow grabs his hips. “You’re going to kill yourself.” You are going to kill me.
“I can’t die. Not like this.” Sonic’s eyes are wild, glassy, his pupils blown wide, devouring most of the red into a void. “Shadow, I can’t die like this. The emeralds won’t let me. I could fuck you for days and I wouldn’t even— I wouldn’t even get tired.” His rhythm stutters, never truly stilling, then picks up again, faster. “Don’t you get it? I’m never gonna stop. Not until I’m empty. Not until it’s all out.”
The words land like ice water down Shadow’s spine. He can feel it tenfold now— the endless, churning reservoir of energy inside Sonic’s body, so vast it makes his own chaos abilities feel like a dollar store candle next to a roaring bonfire. They’d barely scratched the surface of the firewood.
Shadow feels like the aforementioned dried up leaf, only Sonic has pummeled the crunchy little thing into tiny, tiny little pieces.
“Then we need to find another way,” Shadow whimpers, his voice rough. “Because I can’t keep up with you. Not like this.”
Sonic’s hips falter. “What?”
“My body has limits.” Shadow’s grip on Sonic’s hips tighten. “I’ve already passed several of them. If you keep going, you’re going to break me.”
For a long moment, Sonic just stares down at him. Like a puppy being told it’s had enough treats. Then something shifts in his fever-bright eyes, and clarity flickers through. “Oh,” he realizes. “Oh no. Shadow, I’m.. did I hurt you? I didn’t even think—“
“—I’m not hurt.” Shadow sits up, pulling Sonic into his lap with his cock still buried inside. The new angle makes Sonic gasp, making his thighs clench around Shadow’s waist. “I’m exhausted. There’s a difference.” His paws slid up Sonic’s spine, finding the base of his quills and gripping gently. “But I’m not done helping you. We just need to be smarter about it.”
Admitting defeat in such a manner is further destroying those tiny, tiny little leaf crunchies.
Sonic’s forehead drops to Shadow’s shoulder. His body is trembling, still fever-hot, still humming with barely contained energy. “Smarter how?”
“You take control. But you don’t do everything.” Shadow’s mouth finds Sonic’s ear, his voice dropping low. “You ride me as long as you need. I stay still and let you use me. When I soften, you don’t stop— you use your paws on yourself, or mine. And when I can get hard again, I’ll give you more.” He bits down on the shell, just hard enough to sting, pulling back to kitten lick before muttering more. “But you have to promise to listen to me. When I say stop, you have to stop. When I say rest, you rest. No arguing.”
Sonic’s laugh was wet against Shadow’s neck. “You sound like a drill sergeant, dude.” Shadow doesn’t miss how Sonic’s hips wiggle occasionally, likely to seek out some friction.
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“I know.” Sonic leans back, just enough to meet Shadow’s eyes. The golden glow has dimmed slightly, and some of the wildness has faded into something softer, more present. “I know. Okay. I promise.”
A beat.
“But I’m still gonna ride you until your brains leak out your ears.”
Shadow’s mouth twitches. “I’d expect nothing less.” That’s the bravado he’d expect from Sonic.
And then Sonic kisses him.
Sonic’s tongue slides against his, hungry and confident, and Shadow feels his tired body respond in spite of itself.
The exhaustion doesn’t disappear. It moves to the background, still there, still heavy, but no longer in command. What’s in command now is the feeling of Sonic moving against him again, the slick, smooth slide of their bodies, the pressure building low in his abdomen. The kiss breaks, and Sonic’s hips begin to roll, and Shadow holds on, folding his arms behind Sonic’s back to press their bodies together so that there is hardly a hair of room between them.
“That’s it,” Sonic pants, “just— just let me—“ His rhythm finds its pace, fast and desperate, and the cot squeals under them like it wants to collapse. His arms find their way around Shadow in kind, digits splayed through the flattening quills, his lower body rutting down onto his hardening-once-more cock.
“Shadow, touch me. My dick, dude. T-Touch me.” Sonic demands.
Shadow’s paw moves between them, sliding back just enough to search for the swollen nub. His pawpad finds Sonic’s sex. He gives it rough circles, the way he’s learned Sonic likes, and the sound Sonic utters is almost a scream.
“There! Fuck, right there— d-don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop—“
Sonic unhooks his limbs and shoves Shadow so hard against the mattress he gasps. He leads a striped wrist back to the apex of his sex, sloppily rutting into the palm of his pad, still squeezing his dick for everything it’s worth.
He’s hard again, at least.
This time Shadow feels it everywhere when Sonic comes again— the chaos energy discharges in a golden wave that lifts them both, that makes the air go thick and heady, that rattles the walls and cracks the ceiling and sends dust raining down from the rafters.
Another stream of squirt hits Shadow’s chest, past his limp palm.
And yet…
Sonic still goes harder. Shadow adjusts his wrist digits to jerk him off between his thumb and index fingers. The slide is divine, audiable, hot.
Sonic’s expression falls into something pensive, something laced with worry and doubt. “The static is getting louder again, but that should have…” His hips finally still, Sonic’s eyes falling closed, taking a full few seconds to reopen. Frustration seeps from his peepers, burning red orbs in the low light.
“I know.” Shadow’s own body is trembling now, pleasure and pain blurring together until he can’t tell them apart. “I felt it too.”
Sonic’s eyes widened. “You did?”
“The discharge. It’s— when you come, the energy passes through me. It’s not just yours anymore.” Shadow’s head falls back against the damp pillow, panting. “It’s like being struck by lightning. But it’s helping. I can feel it burning off some of the excess.”
“Then we keep going.” Sonic’s grin returns, weak yet genuine. “We keep going until you can’t feel your legs and I can’t feel the buzzing. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Sonic starts moving again.
He rides Shadow like there’s no tomorrow, his golden body a blur of motion and light. The cot complains, the walls complain, Shadow’s entire nervous system complains, but Sonic doesn’t stop.
Every orgasm rips through him like a pulse of raw chaos energy, and every discharge makes the room glow brighter and makes Shadow feel more like he’s dissolving into static. The bursts of lights lesser and lesser with each dimming.
By the third time Sonic comes on his cock, Shadow has stopped trying to keep up. He lays there, gripping Sonic’s hips, letting the golden hedgehog take what he needs. His mind has gone quiet, emptied out by exhaustion and overstimulation, and all that’s left is sensation: the rhythm, the heat, the light becoming red fireworks burning behind his closed eyelids.
“Shadow.” Sonic’s prod comes from somewhere far away. “Shadow, you’re— you’re getting soft again…”
He forces his eyes open. Sonic leans over him, still impaled, still flushed, but his expression has shifted from wild to concerned. The golden glow has dimmed to a soft shimmer, and the static shocks have quieted to something almost bearable.
Past Sonic, past the shattered window, he can hear the first chirps of the flickies waking with the sunrise.
“How much?” Shadow groans.
“I think— I think that was enough. For now.” Sonic carefully lifts himself off, wincing as Shadow’s softened cock slips free.
A rush of wetness follows, and Shadow realizes with distant embarrassment that he’s filled Sonic multiple times over, his spend and Sonic’s wet mess oozing out of his cunt and onto his lap and now-limp cock.
“The buzzing’s not gone. But it’s quieter. I can hear myself think again.” A pause. “You look like shit.”
Shadow blinks slowly at him.
“I’m sorry.” Sonic’s voice cracks. “I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t trying to hurt you…”
“I told you to. You listened. That’s what mattered.” Shadow pushes himself up on his elbows, and his whole body screams in protest. “We’re not done. But I need— I can’t do that again. Not without rest.”
Sonic nods. He reaches for the canteen, but it’s been long past empty. He scans the room and finds Shadow’s pack, retrieving a spar water bottle. He brings it gingerly to Shadow’s lips, paw shaking like a leaf, and the sable hedgehog drinks greedily.
“What about you?” Shadow inquires, when he can form words around his dry tongue again. “Do you need—“
“I’m okay.” But Sonic’s paws are already shaking, and the gold shimmer around him has started to sputter brighter. “I’m better. Not a hundred percent. But better.”
Shadow studies him, really studies him. The fever-flush has faded to something closer to normal. His eyes are clearer. His breathing has evened out. But the chaos energy is still there, coiled beneath his skin like a living thing, and Shadow knows this reprieve is oh-so temporary.
“You’re going to spike again,” he mutters quietly. “The energy is still cycling. It’ll build back up.”
“I know.” Sonic’s face droops, the inevitable pulling at his features. “But you need to recover. And I… I need a minute… To…uh, think.” He chortles, brittle and raw.
Shadow doesn’t argue any further. What’s the point? He lets his head fall back against the pillow, body sinking into the thin mattress. The ceiling above is actually cracked, the window shattered, the floorboards splintered. The aftermath of ordinary sex wouldn’t have done this. This had been something else… Something dangerous.
But Sonic’s paw finds his in the flickering darkness, and squeezes, and for now, that’s enough.
The quiet doesn’t last too long though.
Shadow has closed his eyes for what felt like seconds— maybe a minute, maybe two— when the crackling starts up again. Low at first, a vibration he felt in his molars before he heard it. The cot frame begins to shiver beneath him.
“Sonic.”
“I know.” Sonic’s voice has that fever-edge again, the clarity from minutes ago already fraying at the seams of his consciousness. “I know, I can feel it. It’s coming back faster this time.”
Shadow forces his eyelids to draw upward. The gold shimmer around Sonic’s body brightens from a soft glow to something sharper. Tiny arcs of chaos energy jump between his quills. His paws, still shaking, are clenched into fists on his thighs.
“Status,” Shadow demands.
“Bad.” Sonic’s humorless laugh sets the tone. “It’s like— like the emeralds figured out what we’re doing and they’re pushing back. Every time I bleed some off, they just pump more in.” He turns his head, and his eyes are glassy once more, pupils blown wide. “Shadow, I don’t think I can wait for you to recover. I don’t think there’s time.”
He wobbles before tumbling over onto his back again. Back to square one… has anything actually helped at all? Was it a coincidence he was feeling better after they fooled around?
Shadow’s body screams at him as he pushes himself upright. Every muscle is aching. His dick is soft, spent, nearly chafed raw from overuse. The ridges along the underside lay flat, his lower head having nothing left to give. His jaw clicks when he speaks. “Then we find another way.”
“Oh, I already did.”
Sonic slides off the cot. His legs hold him, barely, as he crosses the cabin on unsteady paws to where Shadow’s pack lies against the wall. He rummages. “Get out of my things, hedgehog. What are you…”
“Found it.” Sonic wobbles back to the cot. In his paw is…
Hm. The flashlight from Shadow’s emergency kit— his trusty, sturdy thing with a smooth metal casing.
Shadow stares at the flashlight. Then at Sonic. The last of his horny brain cells aren’t producing an answer to the question Sonic seems to already have an answer to.
“You can’t get hard again. I can see it.” Sonic’s voice is a tad gentler than it has been all night, but no less urgent. “You’re running on fumes and I’m about to vibrate out of my skin. But you said I need to be the one doing the work, right? Well.” He holds up the flashlight in one paw and a thin rope in the other.. “This lets me do the work.”
The answer slaps Shadow across the face. “You want to fuck me.”
“Uhh, of course I do?” Sonic puts a knee on the cot and there’s something in his expression now— something hungrier. His tongue darts out of his mouth to lick across his lips. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for, like, forever, dude. You’re gonna lie there. You’re gonna let me take care of you. And then, when I’ve got you ready, I’m gonna fuck you until this buzzing stops.”
His words slur together as he starts to loop and tie the flashlight with the emergency kit’s rope before slinging it around his waist and hips. The guy is amazing with his paws, deftly making quick work of the makeshift strap-on.
The flashlight is about seven inches long and thick enough to do the trick. In fact, it has a head at the end that looks rather phallic… The only hiccup may be the on and off switch seated on the side of its casing…
Shadow’s breath catches. He can’t believe he’s entertaining this asinine idea.
Sonic doesn’t wait for a proper answer. He plops onto the cot, manhandling Shadow into the configuration he wants. He’s just as clumsy as he is rough in his movements. One paw presses against Shadow’s chest to push him back down. “I’ve been on the receiving end all night. Don’t you think I’ve picked up a few things?” His fingers trailed down Shadow’s abdomen, light and electric. “Besides. You said it yourself. The energy discharges better when I’m in control.”
He yanks Shadow’s legs apart at the knees, resting his chin on a fluffy, black hip bone. “Sonic, I said that when you were—”
“When I was what? Coherent?” Sonic’s smile looks manic, one lip quirked up high to expose one of his canines. “I’m coherent enough for this.”
Sonic’s paws are on Shadow’s thighs, pushing them even further apart. His tongue lolls out of his mouth, drooly, messy, and he licks from his hip, past his hardening-anew cock, and down to his puckering hole.
Shadow’s head falls back against the pillow. He can’t watch…
And Sonic eats ass the way he does everything else: fast, like he’s been doing it all his life, and surprisingly precise. His tongue traces circles that make Shadow’s hips buck, then flattens into broad strokes, then pushes inside a certain way that has Shadow gripping the cot’s poor frame. The chaos energy bleeding out of Sonic’s body makes every touch feel like static electricity, like a lowly humming current directly into Shadow’s shot nerves.
“You’re tense,” Sonic murmurs against his damp fur. “Loosen up, big guy.”
“I’m not—” Shadow’s voice cracks as Sonic’s tongue does something new, bullying a place he rarely feels, dribbling salvia all around his asshole like he’s signing a check with his tongue.
A check Shadow does not have enough money in the bank to cover. Sonic’s already made plenty bounce tonight.
“You’re going to break the bed frame.” Sonic’s laugh is warm and wet and vibrates through places that makes shooting stars fly behind his eyelids. “Relax. I’ve got you.”
A finger replaces his tongue with no further warning. Then two. Sonic’s digits are thinner than Shadow’s, more nimble, and they crook forward with an accuracy that spoke to hours of being on the receiving end of the same treatment. He finds Shadow’s prostate on the second try and presses, the pawpad at the tip of his reach hitting the perfect spot.
The sound Shadow makes is involuntary.
“I like that, do it again.” Sonic’s voice is thick with satisfaction. He works his digits in slow, steady pulses, stretching, scissoring, while his other hand strokes Shadow’s inner thigh. “You’ve been taking care of me all night. Let me return the favor.”
“Sonic—”
“Shhh.” He withdraws all of his fingers, only to press them in together not even a moment later. He’s added some manner of lubricant to the mix, the slide heavenly against his already-bullied prostrate.
The stretch is quite intense, bordering on too much, but Sonic’s thumb traces soothing circles on Shadow’s perineum and his mouth follows the line of Shadow’s hipbone. “I’m gonna make you feel good. I’m gonna make you feel so good you forget your own name. And then I’m gonna fuck you with that flashlight until you scream.” He sounds as silly, speaking so quickly he does sexy. Shadow feels insane.
Shadow’s breath comes in short, sharp bursts. His cock, impossibly, stirs again— not hard, not yet, but interested. The exhaustion hasn’t vanished, but it has shifted, transmuted into something more pliable, something that bends instead of breaking in two.
He dares to lift his head up a tad to steal a glance at his glowing bedfellow. Sonic is looking down, watching his digits slowly sink in and out of him with boyish wonder, the wet noise obscene and by far the loudest sounds in the room. He licks his lips, diving down and the next thing Shadow knows his head is flinging back once more, quills piercing the pillow beneath him.
Sonic sucks hard on one of his balls, rolling it around his too-warm mouth, tonguing and toying with it as he pistons his many digits into his wet, dripping pucker. His cock stands at the ready, big and angry, red at the spaded tip. The ridges on the underside pulse with need and this time the knot at the base makes itself known as well, constricting in time with his heartbeat.
“Ready?” Sonic’s fingers slide free. He reaches for the flashlight, and the gold glow around his body has brightened to near-blinding, accumulating force as he toyed with Shadow’s nethers for only the gods know how long.
“For the record,” Shadow shutters, “if you tell anyone about this—”
“—You’ll kill me. I know.” Sonic uncaps a small tube of lubricant from the emergency kit— Shadow doesn’t bother to ask when he’d found that— and slicked the flashlight with efficient strokes.
Shadow is pretty sure the starlight’s next motion is all for show, shoving his paw between his legs with a heady sigh. He pulls back with a scoop of slick, slightly glowing in the early morning light, and slathers it together with the lube.
“Thing is, I’m pretty sure I can’t die right now. So you’ll just have to find another way to threaten me.” He positions himself between Shadow’s thighs. “Ready for real this time?”
Shadow meets his eyes. Those fever-bright ruby eyes, glassy yet burning with chaos and lust. “Do it.”
The flashlight is cold, cold, cold compared to Sonic’s tongue and digits. Shadow feels the metal kiss his entrance, then he push— slow, steady. Sonic’s other paw is on his hip, blunted claws digging in with enough force to break skin, and his voice is a low murmur of encouragement that Shadow barely hears over the rush of blood in his own ears.
“Breathe,” Sonic coos. “Breathe, Shadow. You are going to break this thing in half with your—“ The stretch is different from the fingers, Sonic slipping forward clumsily and sliding in a few inches too fast at once. The golden hedgehog jerks his hips back and forth, the base of the flashlight likely making contact with his own slicked up sex.
The metal is warmed slightly from Sonic’s grip but is still cooler than flesh, and the sensation sends a shiver up Shadow’s spine. Sonic pushes deeper, but by bit, until the flashlight is seated fully inside and Shadow feels impossibly full.
This thing is either out of batteries or the light is paling in comparison to the sunshine driving into his asshole. Because, distantly, Shadow feels his walls clench around the power switch of the flashlight.
“I need to move, Shad. I need to move so bad. I want to fuck you so bad, man.”
Shadow can’t fathom seeing himself like this. His eyes are squeezed shut, his breath coming in shallow pants, his body caught between protesting all of this and swearing hot pleasure. Trapped under Sonic’s grasp on his hip, drooling down at him like the headlights of a pick-up truck going 95 in a 65. And Shadow is the fawn that stares at the oncoming threat, unable to move, act, or bid on his own life.
Then Sonic moves, painfully, slowly, the makeshift strap-on sliding past Shadow’s sweet spot at an angle that makes his back bow off of the bed, his paws tearing through the already-ruined sheets. It’s moving so easily, so good.
“Sonic, fuuuuuck…” Shadow hears his own voice, disembodied and hissy and begging. “G-Go, please. Fuck…”
“That’s the idea.” Sonic pulls back, then thrusts in again. His mouth falls open in another silent cry as he grinds himself against the glassy base of the flashlight, hitting another peak with little to no stimulation. As soon as his eyes refocus a tad, he pulls back and pushes in once more.
Shallow at first, experimental. “You’re tight. Even with all that prep. Just relax, I need to pound it hard, Shad. Has anyone ever done this for you before?”
“No— erm… not relevant.”
“It’s relevant to me,” Sonic’s rhythm picks up, slow and deep. “I want to know if I’m your first. Your first time getting fucked like this. Your first time letting someone take care of you.” He rotates his wrist at the base and the flashlight drags against Shadow’s inner walls in a way that makes his vision blur, heat crawling so quickly up his face he feels dizzy . “Your first time is so mine.”
Shadow’s paw shots out and grabs Sonic’s wrist. The panting and little whimpers are not helping his case. “Yes,” he confesses. “Yes, you’re… you’re the first. Satisfied?”
“Not even close, baby.”
Sonic fucks him with the flashlight like he’s trying to prove a point. His pace is relentless, his aim precise, and every thrust sends a shock of pleasure through Shadow’s exhausted body. The cot creaks. The floorboards groan. The golden light around Sonic’s body has brightened to a blinding corona and Shadow can feel the chaos energy bleeding into him with every stroke— hot and electric and terrifyingly intimate.
Shadow once again hears himself begin to make some downright pathetic, embarrassing noises. The slap of skin-on-skin, fur tacky and slick squetching between them. He’s climbing a ladder Sonic is skipping steps on again and again, the base of the makeshift strap-on getting wetter, wetter, wetter every time Sonic cums. His hips stutter as he finishes, but he never truly stops. He looks deliriously, running on some horny autopilot.
“Close… I-l’m— Sonic, I’m—“
“Already?” But Sonic sounds delighted, not disappointed. “You really needed this, didn’t you? Needed someone to take the wheel.” His free paw wraps around Shadow’s painfully hard cock, stroking in time with the thrusts. “Go ahead. Come for me. Let me feel it, Shad.” Sonic’s ruby marbles roll into the back of his head as he clearly hits his mark again, his paw losing its grip for only a moment.
He redoubles his efforts, his paw abandoning its post at his cock all together to yank Shadow’s legs up. He slings them over his shoulders roughly, folding the sable hedgehog like a lawn chair. The sunshine slithers his paw back between them, pushing down into his wet hole at a new, devastating angle. The warmth crawls back down his spine at breakneck speeds, crashing into his lower tummy.
“S-S-Soooonic—“
Cum paints his own chest fluff in longshotting ropes, his whole form curling in on itself. Unable to arch his back in the way his body seems to want to in Sonic’s iron grip. Heroughly grabs the hedgehog above him by the ears and crashes their muzzles together. Effectively devouring his mortifying hollering, the glittering hero’s paw and hips shakily relent, another impossibly higher peak being reached.
He milks Shadow for all he’s worth. The sable hedgehog is pretty sure he doesn’t have a drop left in him to give, or he would without hesitation.
Sonic the Hedgehog has officially taken the crispy shreds of leaves and chewed them into mush.
They ride out Shadow’s final orgasm of the encounter together. The Ultimate Lifeform goes limp beneath Sonic as he tumbles down from it, not too gracefully. The magnificent marigold begins to pick up speed again, looking down at him through lidded eyes. A trickle of blood falls from his swollen lips, Shadow only registering a few moments later than he bit right through the hero’s tongue, the metallic taste overwhelming his mouth. Little droplets fall down from the super being’s muzzle down onto Shadow’s chest and face haphazardly with the motion.
Shadow loses count of how many times Sonic’s hips stutter and the squishy sound of him driving the flashlight impossibly further in, clearly orgasming again and again and again and again and again. His bright face pinches cutely as he climbs. Their muzzles colliding in sloppy snogging. Delirious chuckles and desperate moans, trying everything he can to expel the excess energy from his trembling body.
What jolts him back to the present is when the cot beneath the two hedgehogs finally gives up with a loud creak and then a snap.
The cheap metal lasted far longer than it should have. Sonic woozily cackles at the situation, pushing Shadow’s thighs to his own tacky chest so hard it’s likely bruising his ribs below. His hind paws rest on either side of his face, cresting forward and back with the wave, the force of Sonic’s brutal humping wrecking him.
His dick does something again at some point after the sun rises fully. Gone soft and hard anew several times, it painfully pulses at the tip, despite not being touched directly aside from the occasional brush of Sonic’s torso against it. His member is soaked but the tip doesn’t produce anymore cum, all dripped dry.
Tears steam down his muzzle. But he doesn’t tell Sonic to stop… he doesn’t want him too.
Not until he’s sure Sonic is okay.
Not that he’s slowed down any. His glassy, red orbs shimmer as if they are looking past him instead of directly at him.
He’s starting to think this isn’t helping whatsoever. It’s unclear if Super Sonic is getting better or worse through all of this. He feels the jolts travel through him, but his paramour remains the same in the end.
Sonic captures his muzzle in another passionate kiss, Shadow’s paws deciding to lace behind Sonic’s neck to trap him impossibly closer.
Fierce, red eyes drift close. And Shadow’s eyes don’t reopen, the hybrid letting his other senses carry him away.
When Shadow is able to open his eyes the room around him has been plunged into darkness, the only source of light is the sunrise peering at the two little perverts over the horizon through the broken windows.
Distantly he thinks about how he could have sworn he saw the room filled with the light from the actual sun not too long ago.
But that could have been Super Sonic.
Strange the sun would be rising again. Unless…
His paw rises up and he finds his precious glowing bedfellow.
Sonic had collapsed onto his chest, sticky and uncomfortable at some point. The only kind of super Sonic is now is super-glued to his chest by a combination of their various fluids.
But most importantly, Shadow’s eyes are filled with the sight of a bright cobalt blue. No longer a star, glittering and flickering.
The sable hedgehog counts his blessings that Sonic didn’t pass out mid thrust and leave the flashlight deep in his canal. He can feel the ruined tool against his thigh, still attached to Sonic’s makeshift, rope strap-on.
Shadow allows a smile to creep onto his face. His body protests even being conscious right now, but he checks Sonic’s vitals despite himself.
He doesn’t remember falling back asleep either, but does recall the feeling of everything being okay once more.