A/N: This fic is a collab between the-clarity-organism and myself. I wrote Metal, and she wrote Sonic.
If anything defined organics, it was their sheer inability to comprehend the finer principles of efficiency. A textbook example was this very building—the one Metal now found himself trapped inside. The interior was made of sheetrock and the exterior was of brick. But in the standard insanity of organics, it had not been enough to leave the structure in that form. No, these ridiculous humans had to plaster the inside with their disgusting, frilly wallpaper, as gaudy as it was unnecessary. Even the carpet, which was insulting enough as a plain material, had to be patterned with spinning motifs, confusing enough to give even Metal Sonic a headache.
Well, it was no matter. If Metal Sonic wanted to avoid the rain—and he had to avoid the rain, given what Eggman would do to him if the doctor had to disinfect him yet again this week—then this inefficient hotel was as good as any other disgusting human shelter.
Standing in the hotel lobby was the ideal surveillance point. All of the people coming in and out would have to walk around him, which made it easier to gather intelligence. And, from this angle, he could easily find out if this hotel had what he needed.
Public power outlets. There had to be some. If not in the lobby, then in—
"Sonic!"
A pink, female hedgehog stood at the front desk, calling out to Metal as she waved excitedly, her eyes locked onto him. And as soon as Metal noticed her, she vaulted over the front desk—impolite but efficient to get to her destination—and ran at Metal, glomming onto him.
"That's twice I've seen you today! Guess you must just like me that much, hmm~?"
While Metal had meant to gather intelligence, he hadn't wanted it to come to him quite this literally. In his entire existence, he had never experienced such a perplexing state of physical contact, and we was quite sure he could happily continue the rest of his existence without ever experiencing it again.
Her awful color. So monochromatic. So uninspired. The grating tone of her voice. It was as if a thousands wolf hounds were drowning in chalkboards. The horror. The nightmare.
It was none other than Amy Rose.
Amy paused, noting his silence, then stared up at him. The sly grin that followed would make just about anyone squirm.
"Lost your key, hm? You don't have to pretend just to spend time with me," she said in a sultry tone, walking her fingers up Metal's chest.
Metal could compute over four million clock cycles in a single second, and it took him all of three cycles to make his decision.
Metal stepped hastily away from Amy, uttering nothing but a single, loud beep.
"Okay, okay." Amy twirled one of her quills with a finger. "Later, I know. I'm at work."
She reaching into the pocket of her work jacket, pulling out a key and giving it to Metal.
"Don't lose it next time," she said teasingly and with a 'knowing' tone.
Horror. Utter horror. Why did Sonic associate with such horror? If these were Sonic's friends, Metal would hate to meet his enemies.
Well, excusing himself. Metal would hate to meet the rest of Sonic's enemies. Whoever they were.
He was getting distracted.
Without even so much as giving Amy a nod, Metal marched toward the elevator. He jammed the call button with his finger, looking down at the keycard Amy had given him.
The eleventh floor. That did, at least, put many meters of concrete between himself and her.
The elevator was so slow. Who programmed this thing and why it was so inefficient? Metal could hear it beeping floors above him.
He glanced back at Amy.
Amy was heading back to her desk but her gaze never left him, and for the sake of his very safety, Metal made the mistake of looking back.
She paused at his eye contact, leaning against the desk with a sultry grin. Drawing her fingers to her lips, she blew a kiss in Metal's direction, topping it off with a wink.
It required pulling a few people out of the elevator and jamming his hand against the close door button, but Metal did it. He had never gotten in one of these things so fast.
When the doors finally closed, the din of the lobby faded, replaced by tinny music piped in from speakers inside the elevator. As much as Metal loathed this inefficient thing, it did at least get him up to the eleventh floor fairly quickly.
Once the doors rung open, it took but a few, quick steps down the hallway, and he was there.
His room.
Metal swiped his keycard along the side of the door, and after a painstaking 2.76 million clock cycles—this device was designed for slow organics after all—the door unlocked with a click. Metal swung open it.
"...Hello?" A voice from inside called.
This voice. It was a voice Metal only knew all too well.
Sonic walked into Metal's view, eyes widening. "Metal Sonic?"
"You!" Metal hissed, crouching down into a battle stance. The room inside was cramped, which made it hard to see much past the narrow entrance. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I—" Sonic raised a brow, thoroughly perplexed. "What are you doing here?"
Metal took a step forward. He had to, if he wanted to see inside the room. As was typical of hotel rooms, there was a small bed stuffed in the corner, nightstand by its side, faded paintings along the walls. Metal didn't care about any of that though. He cared only about what was next to the bed.
The power outlet.
"I had to endure the pink one to get here," Metal said, tensing. "I intend to make that sacrifice worth the endeavour."
Sonic followed Metal's gaze. "What, the power?"
He looked back. "Doesn't Egghead charge you? You gotta get your own power too?"
"The doctor does indeed charge me, but I do not have enough to get back at this present moment, given the weather patterns outside."
Metal slipped past Sonic, stumbling into the room beyond him. He sat down on the bed next to the outlet and began fumbling with the panel on his side.
"And you did not answer me. What are you doing in my room?" Metal asked.
"Lemme guess. Amy thought you were me, right?" Sonic held up his key matter-of-factly. "My rings, my room."
He tossed the key on the nightstand then sat on the opposite side of the bed. "I'm way tired, and Tails wouldn't let me sleep outside."
"What, you were planning to sleep outside? Why did you not simply run away back to your own home?"
"Because..." Sonic blushed in embarrassment. "The way home means running over water, which isn't really the best idea when I'm exhausted."
"Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable." Having finished opening the panel, Metal pulled out his power cord and snapped it into the wall. "You stole my room simply because you were too tired to go back to your own."
"Okay, seriously, where do you get the idea that this is your room?" Sonic asked.
He paused, then smirked. "Unless you're saying you'd rather be the one with Amy all over you."
With more power flowing into his system, Metal could remember his recent encounter more clearly. He wished he was still low on power.
"Please, no. I would rather be trapped with Cubot in a room for weeks than speak with her again."
Metal shuddered. "In terms of your inquiry, this room is mine because they gave it to me and I need the power. It is a basic principle."
Sonic said, "And this room is mine because all it's gonna take is a call to Amy and you'll be out of here in a Sonic-second. The one who pays for the room owns it, and you didn't."
He leaned back, glaring at Metal. "Look, I'm already letting you stay here because you need it. I don't see why you've gotta fight me about it."
Metal huffed, leaning back and copying Sonic's gesture. "...Very well. I will let you stay here, provided you do not call the pink one."
Sonic breathed, ready to argue again, but compromised. As long as Metal wasn't directly claiming the room to be his, it was fine.
"Okay, so...what now? Do you robots watch movies or play games or anything?"
Metal turned his head, looking at Sonic curiously. "What would be the point of these activities? It is not as if they would further the mission."
"What mission?" Sonic asked with a shrug. "We're just hanging out. You can't have fun or something?"
"I cannot have fun? Do not be absurd. As the superior one, I guarantee I am wholly capable of having more fun than you at any given activity."
Sonic blinked. He honestly hadn't meant it as a challenge, but the idea of seeing Metal being competitive at having fun was too good to pass up.
"Okay, you're on!" Sonic stood up, smirking. "What are we doing then, Mets?"
Metal hesitated. Had Sonic really just nicknamed him? Absurd! Metal must correct him at once. Unless…
Unless this was all a plot to throw him off balance, to make him lose the contest. If Metal contested this, Sonic would insist he wasn't really having fun.
Metal narrowed his gaze. "Oh, I can have fun at any activity. That is how good I am at having fun. We could, for instance, dip a towel in some water and then watch it dry. It would be most entertaining."
Sonic snorted. "Metal, I don't think you get what 'fun' is."
"Oh yes? Then what do you suppose would be more fun than that? I can promise you the answer is there is nothing," Metal said.
"Playing a board game? Watching a movie?" Sonic chuckled, amused. "You know, gross mobian things?"
"Oh yes, all of those inefficient activities you mobians must do to keep yourselves entertained because the simple towel drying exercise is not enough for you."
"So..." Sonic smirked, leaning close to Metal's face. "You're super easy to please, huh, Mets? You don't even have standards."
"What? Of course not, do not be ridiculous." Sonic was so close now. Metal wanted to lean away, but that would be admitting defeat, so he held perfectly still. "My standards are of the highest calibre."
"Must not be if you're cool with just drying towels," Sonic mocked.
"I...you—" Metal wanted to scream, but that would admit weakness. He could not let Sonic run rhetorical circles around him.
"You cannot lay claim to anything. You submitted a list when I requested an individual item. This invalidates your answer."
"Oh? Because then it just sounds like you're super picky," Sonic retorted. "And that you're too scared to try anything new."
Calm. Metal had to remain calm. Failure to remain calm would generalize to overall failure.
"I am not picky nor am I scared!" Metal hissed. "I am superior! So help me, Sonic. You pick something. Anything! I will play it to its optimal level, and I will have so much fun that your feeble mobian mind could not even begin to comprehend it."
Sonic chuckled. He had won.
"Alright. I'll even pick something I know you'll like."
He sped over to the closet, which was filled with an odd number of board games for a hotel.
Sonic quickly explained, "Amy shoved these in here and tried to get me to play with her earlier. You're obsessed with me too, so you'll love this one."
Smirking wide, he turned, presenting a small box the size of a deck of cards.
"A question game."
"Obsessed with—" Metal choked off with a single beep. The nerve of Sonic, insisting Metal was obsessed with him. That was patently false. Metal had no interest in Sonic whatsoever. He merely thought about him all of the time.
He had to stay on track. Focus on the game. "Oh, how wonderful. Let us hope this game is as enjoyable as its description is ambiguous."
Sonic rolled his eyes then sat on the floor, gesturing for Metal to come over. He skimmed the manual for maybe two seconds then tossed it aside.
"Alright, so we've got these cards here..."
He placed the main deck of cards right between where Metal would be sitting and himself.
"We pick cards and ask each other whatever question is on it, and we gotta answer honestly. Or we have to keep the card. Whoever has the least cards by the end of the game wins."
He leaned forward, still smirking. "So you get to learn more about me. That's helpful in your never-ending plan to defeat me, right?"
"This is the protocol? Then my victory will be simple." Metal took a seat across from Sonic, eyeing the pile of cards. "You will give me information as the game progresses, and I will use this information to defeat you. Both in the game and afterward. It is a losing proposition for you."
"Okay, Mets," Sonic said with a disbelieving smile. "Ready? I'll even let you go first."
The cards sat in a tidy stack in front of Metal, the edges perfectly neat, as clean as the day they had come from the factory.
Metal took a card and read it aloud. "What would constitute a 'perfect' day for you?"
Sonic hummed, trying to think through his amusement at Metal playing a simple game with him.
"Exploring a new land I've never been to then napping under a tree and just enjoying nature." He paused then added, "Maybe with a friend."
Metal narrowed his gaze. "Fascinating. So you are playing the long game here, are you not? Telling me things I already know. Strategic."
Metal held the card up for a moment then discarded it. "It is your turn."
Sonic laughed. "What if the friend ended up being you? You wouldn't know that."
He smirked, adding, "Y'know, if you ever could have fun and not try to kill me every second of your life."
"You have made so many erroneous assumptions that I do not even know where to start. The least of them being that I am technically not alive," Metal said. "And do not believe you can bait me into giving you additional data. I will not fall for such a simple trick. Ask the proper question."
Sonic snorted. He honestly hadn't known that Metal knew that. This could be interesting.
"Well, obviously you don't know me as well as you think, 'cause I wasn't baiting you."
He picked up a card. Another snort, more amused than the last.
"Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?" He added, "You're alive enough for me, so count it. Just...whatever the robot word for 'die' is, replace it."
Metal straightened the stack of cards with the back of his fingers. This question was absurd. Obviously Metal would never die. He would overthrow Eggman, take over the world, defeat Sonic and...and—
And then what? If he did live forever, if he did defeated Sonic, what...what would he do then?
Metal's voice shook slightly when he spoke. "I will likely perish in five billion years, once the sun consumes the planet."
Sonic paused for an unusually long time. He'd never heard Metal's voice sound so...
He shook his head, putting the card in the discard pile and gesturing to the desk. "Your turn."
Metal took another card. "Is there something that you have dreamed of doing for a long time? Why have you not done it?"
Sonic hesitated only a little to answer. "Well, it probably sounds weird, but I always wanted to go on a big adventure with someone."
He shrugged. "But it's a little too out-there for Tails, Amy's too clingy, and Knuckles won't leave his island for more than five minutes without throwing a fit. Wanted to maybe take Cream, but I think Vanilla would worry about her."
Now this was new information. Metal would have hardly expected Sonic to lack friends. Every time Metal saw him, Sonic had inevitably dragged some new companion out of the woodworks.
Was it really that hard for him to find someone?
"Fascinating. It is your turn."
Sonic raised a brow. Metal had actually found that interesting?
Huh.
"Okay..." Sonic picked up a card, a few cards straying from their perfect position in the deck from his sloppy technique. He stared at the card's text for a few seconds then finally looked up at Metal.
"What is your most treasured memory?"
"My...most treasured memory?" But what exactly would that be? The time Eggman yelled at him when he had first come online? Or his defeats? His defeat after defeat after defeat. All those nights, left alone in storage, with nothing but the knowledge Eggman had made him to be Sonic's copy. That was literally the entire point of Metal—to be Sonic's copy. He had no identity. He had no purpose. He had no friends. He had—
He had nothing.
"I—" Metal's voice was shaking louder this time. "I prefer not to answer this."
"Mets? ...Metal?" Sonic called, quieter than he'd expected.
The tiny hero in his heart suddenly ached for Metal. He didn't need to pry to know.
Metal didn't have a treasured memory.
He stared at the card, debating in his head for a long time on what to say.
"It's, uh...it's fine. You know, this is way too personal anyway. You...you don't have to keep it."
Metal didn't say anything. He merely nodded once and placed the card in the pile.
He pulled another card. It took him a moment of staring at the text for words to make sense again.
Metal said, "What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?"
Sonic managed a smirk. "Did you pick that one on purpose somehow or are you just making that up?"
He tried to muster an answer anyway.
"...There was this one time, on Planet Wisp," Sonic recalled. "Egghead was destroying the place to make his amusement park."
Sonic's hands tightened into fists. "He messed with nature, with those little guys' home. That's no joke."
"Ah, yes. I was not present for this. The doctor had left me back, as had become increasingly standard for him." Metal shook his head. "He was most furious when you put an end to his efforts. Although that too was standard I suppose."
Sonic snickered, brought out of his moment by Metal. "It's way more than standard by now."
He picked up another card. The text was different than usual this time around.
This one had Amy's handwriting.
"Uh—" Sonic looked away. Thankfully, Amy wasn't here. "I'm just gonna...pick a different card."
He went to place it in the discard pile.
"Sonic, what are you doing? You cannot just ignore the rules like this. It defeats the whole purpose of the game."
Metal reached over, picking the card from the pile. "What does this even say?"
"Metal—wait—" Sonic tried to protest, but it was too late.
The card's text had been written with a pink highlighter, as if it hadn't already been obvious who wrote it.
Do you love the person sitting across from you? Yes or yes?
Metal gaped. This card...it proposed a question and gave a set of acceptable answers.
The person sitting across the room was Sonic. Did he love Sonic? The answer was no, but this was not an acceptable answer. He could only answer yes or yes. He could not lie. That was a rule of the game. Answering required lying. He could not answer without lying, and he could not deviate from the solution set.
Metal's fans clicked on with an audible whirl, trying to compensate for the sheer heat emanating from his overworked processors.
"I—" Metal stammered. The loop was threatening to consume all available processing power.
His emergency loop breaking module clicked on.
Metal said in a very robotic voice, "Yes."
Sonic stiffened, a small flush coming to his cheeks. Metal clearly hadn't meant it, but—
Metal had just said that he loved Sonic.
Metal continued to stare blankly for a moment. Then his optics flickered, and he rubbed his face.
He also quickly flicked the card into the discard pile.
"T-that card—it is an information hazard," Metal beeped. He continued rubbing his face then froze as his fans whirled on again.
He could not lie. He had said he loved Sonic. Therefore—
The loop breaker clicked on again, and Metal groaned.
"I was gonna pick up a different card," Sonic scolded gently, noting Metal's suffering. "Amy wrote that one."
He was still flushing.
"Oh. The pink one is responsible. Yes. This invalidates the card. Yes."
Metal looked away.
Sonic pursed his lips, hesitating. "Do you...wanna keep playing?"
Metal tapped his finger against the stack of cards, straightening it slightly. "If we stop playing here, I would lose."
"I mean, I guess, but—" Sonic sighed. Hopefully Amy didn't have anymore 'surprise' cards in the deck. "It's your turn then."
Metal stared at the stack of cards. None of this game had been fun, if he were honest, and the very idea of picking up another one struck him as infinity hazardous.
And anyway, they were technically at a tie. He wasn't technically losing.
"Supposed I asked you what else you organic creatures did for fun. Would you have an answer?"
"Mm?" That got Sonic's smug look right back in action. "So you didn't have fun?"
That smug look. It was just so irritating, and it always made Metal feel the same way: the look would evaporate any sense of gloom he felt, only to be replaced by sheer annoyance. This property was useful; Metal even kept a picture of this look in his database to specifically review whenever he needed something stimulating.
"Of course I had fun," Metal hissed. "I had so much fun that I am prepared for the even greater levels of fun another activity would afford."
"Okay." Though Sonic had left it there, the still-smug look on his face proved that he didn't believe Metal whatsoever.
"We can watch a movie?" he suggested with a shrug.
"Oh yes. I know of this activity. This is when organics stare at a box, and its levels of simplicity simply boggle the mind. There is no doubt that I would win at this activity too."
"Uh—no?" Sonic snorted. "It's not about the TV. It's about what's on the TV."
He smirked. "Guess you don't know as much about fun as you think."
Metal glared. "Oh, I do know about fun. It is you who does not know. Staring at a screen is always the same experience. It does not matter what is on it."
Sonic's smirk widened. "So if I showed a screen that told you even more about me than you already know, that's the same thing as me showing you a screen that just shows Amy sitting at the front desk doing nothing?"
"I already told you. It is the experience that is the same. That does not mean the outcome is the same. The outcome of the former is superior to the outcome of the later, even if the experience of both is the same."
"Oh yeah?" Sonic challenged.
"Yes." This was typical of Sonic. He was always so dense, so infuriating. Metal would have to explain it on such a low level for Sonic to understand. "It is always the same, as I said. Indeed, there is no real functional difference between that television screen and my own optical screen. Staring at one is the same as staring at the other. You may as well stare at me if you want the same experience."
"That right?"
Sonic's complete sense of smug didn't fade. "Well, if you wanted to stare at my eyes that bad, all you had to do is ask."
He leaned forward, grinning cheekily as he stared into Metal's optics.
A simple matter. Metal would stare at him in return. It wasn't like Metal had a copy of this exact face on his hard drive or anything. No, not at all. The smugness on Sonic's face was an irrelevant factor. It didn't matter if Sonic's gaze was piercing. It didn't matter if Metal had already analyzed the exact shade of green of Sonic's eyes.
That shade changed based on the lighting conditions sometimes. The lighting conditions in this room were novel though. Low light. Artificial light. Slightly blue light. It did make Sonic's eyes stand out. It made them more green. It made them more vivid. It made them—
"L-let us watch the television now—" Metal croaked.
Sonic nodded in satisfaction. "I'll find us a movie."
He got up, moving over the limited selection of DVDs. Unfortunately, the hotel didn't provide any, so like the games, he only had what Amy had offered.
It would probably be terrible no matter what he picked.
"Well then." Metal stood up. The television was near to him, and there was a small box with numerous buttons sitting atop it. "I will activate this movie playing device now to minimize the amount of time we must spend on this activity."
"Uh...right," Sonic replied slowly, still sorting through the DVDs.
He pulled out a romance movie. He'd never seen it, but by the cover, he could tell immediately what kind of clichéd mess it was.
Well, at least it would put him to sleep quickly.
"How are you doing on the DVD player?" Sonic asked, turning to Metal.
"How am I doing? Do you even need to ask? Given I myself am the greatest, most masterful piece of technology the world has ever seen, operating a device such as this is something I could do in sleep mode."
Metal pressed another button on the device. The red screen on the device clicked off. He pressed another button. The disk tray shot out, nearly smacking him in the face. He stood up, ready to put the DVD in, but the tray quickly shot back inside.
"...as I said, this is a simple matter."
Sonic snorted. "You need help there?"
"No, I need no help at all. This is merely how one operates this device."
Metal glanced at the DVD player again. "Now that I have warmed it up, you may insert the disk."
"Mhm," Sonic said, sufficient amusement in his tone.
He opened the DVD player back up, slipping the disc in and closing it. He then bent down to the TV, adjusting settings as necessary before things flickered finally to life.
"Do you robots snack on anything?" He asked. He sped into the nearby kitchen, searching around before pulling a gallon of vegetable oil onto the counter. "Or do you just deal with this stuff?"
"What? I do not understand what you—" Metal's optics widened. "Oh. You are implying I must ingest oil. That is incorrect."
Metal held his power cable up. It was still connected to the wall. "I require nothing but electricity."
"Oh." Sonic stared down at the gallon of oil then returned it to the floor.
He pulled out a bag of air-popped popcorn—much too impatient to wait for the regular stuff—then went to the bed, pulling the bag open.
"You gonna sit?" he offered, tilting his head to the place on the bed next to him.
"Sit? Why should I sit?" Metal tugged at his power cord, which was still plugged into the wall next to the bed. "My recharging progresses the same whether I sit or stand."
Sonic rolled his eyes, but with a smile. Robots were so weird.
"Okay. More comfy for me then."
He leaned over, ready to lay on his side...
Metal tightened his grip on his power cord. Sonic was going to lay on the bed. Sonic was going to take the whole bed. But this was Metal's hotel room. That meant this bed was technically Metal's bed.
Sonic was taking Metal's bed. Metal could not stand for his this.
Without saying a word, Metal heaved himself across the bed. The mattress springs wobbled slightly when he landed, and he ended up laying limply across the center.
Sonic recoiled, but grinned with amusement.
"Change of heart?" he asked. "Better than standing, isn't it?"
Metal was facing down into the blankets, but he turned his head just enough to glare at Sonic through one eye. "I am entitled to my share of this furniture object."
"Okay," Sonic said with a shrug. "It's big enough for the two of us anyway."
Metal rotated his head further, glaring at Sonic with both eyes now. He held this stare for a moment, but when Sonic just continued to shrug at him, Metal groaned and heaved himself up to his side of the bed.
"We may watch your motion picture now."
Sonic held the remote to the DVD player, clicking the play button to start the movie.
His popcorn crunching was only slightly impolite.
The grainy television screen flickered to life. How primitive it was. The lack of saturation, the blurred pixels. This archaic piece of machinery had to be made of cathode ray tubes. How inferior.
Bleary music leaked from the speakers. The characters walked onto the set. The film had started.
Metal narrowed his gaze, staring at the screen. "I have never seen such a thing."
"Well, yeah, 'cause Egghead never lets you have any fun," Sonic pointed out.
Metal said nothing. He could only stare at the television in utter confusion. What was this invention? What was this story?
There was only one explanation. "Is this how you mobians download data?"
"Download what now?" Sonic asked confusedly.
Metal shook his head. "Nevermind. The answer is clearly negative."
Sonic pouted. "I would've put on something you'd like if we had more movies."
Metal didn't respond. What was there to say? The possibility of enjoyable movie did not even exist. How could it? The experience of television was clearly as boring as it was flawed, standing as the ultimate proof that the medium was, in fact, the message.
Take, for instance, the characters. Utterly bland. The male lead kept trying to talk to the female lead, and she kept flushing every time he walked by. How trite. How meaningless. Metal couldn't even describe it as formulaic. Formulaic implied consistency, and the only thing consistent about this film was its poor taste.
And anyway, what was the point of watching a romance anyway? It wasn't as if it were real. These characters, this plot, it was so banal. So sappy.
Metal couldn't take his eyes off it.
And yet, somehow, Sonic must have found it soothing to some degree, as he suddenly flopped over, popcorn spilling as his head fell onto Metal's lap.
Metal let out a surprised beep. Sonic—Sonic was in his lap? But why—? His eyes, they weren't open. His breathing was soft. Was Sonic…?
Was Sonic asleep?
He was asleep. So that was what had happened. Sonic fell asleep watching the movie. Sonic had fallen asleep into Metal's lap—
Now what was Metal supposed to do?
The movie continued to play in the background, but the sound of Sonic's breathing was far louder than any soundtrack. It was awful really, that the movie was so boring. It made it harder to tune out the obnoxious noise of Sonic sleeping.
Metal went to shift his position, but the weight of Sonic against his lap stopped him. If he moved, he would wake up Sonic. If we woke up Sonic, Sonic would start talking to him again. That would be intolerable. Metal hated Sonic's voice. He hated everything about it. Better to just let Sonic sleep so he could enjoy his room in peace.
So Metal continued to watch the movie. He watched it until the very end, and not once did he move. He couldn't move. It was a simple fact. And so when the movie ended, he had no choice.
Metal had to enter sleep mode with Sonic sleeping on his lap.
As night slowly faded away with the moon, morning shone through the hotel window.
Sonic squirmed, groaning at the light trying to pierce his eyelids. Why did it have to be so bright?
He opened his eyes slowly, letting his vision focus. Then he realized his predicament.
He hadn't recalled falling asleep on Metal, and apparently, the lack of a blanket had made him cuddle the darn robot in his sleep. His arms were even completely around Metal's waist, and his head was pressed into Metal's chest. The light issue was due to the sunlight reflecting off of Metal's armor.
Sonic averted his gaze, embarrassed at the awkward position. He released his grip on Metal, but found himself still stuck.
Metal's hands were around Sonic's back too.
The reason for that was, of course, solely dependant on one factor: Metal's automated systems. They reacted reflexively, automatically, and when Sonic had grasped Metal in his sleep, Metal's systems did likewise. It was mimicry, pure and simple. Any further interpretation Sonic took of this action would be based purely in his biases as an organic creature.
Which was why, as soon Metal came online, he let go of Sonic and promptly fell off the bed.
Sonic blinked, needing a moment to react. He scrambled over to the edge of the bed, staring down at Metal.
"Uh...are you okay?"
Metal laid sprawled across the floor. He had two choices here: he could look at Sonic or he could look at the ceiling.
Metal looked at the ceiling.
"My operational metrics are standard."
"That's...good?" Sonic guessed.
He stared awkwardly down at his arms, rubbing one. They were still warm.
Metal couldn't help but notice many attributes of the floor. For instance, the floor was cold, an awful lot colder than the bed had been, and the texture was all wrong. Metal much preferred a softer texture, like the one he had just—
Metal bolted upright, pressing his back against the wall where his charging cable was still plugged.
"Y-you fell asleep during the movie," Metal said. His voice only wavered a little bit. "It follows that I have won the contest."
"The—uh—contest?"
Sonic took a moment to recall, then added, "Oh! Right, the fun thing."
He snorted. "How do you know I didn't just fall asleep out of having so much fun?"
Metal froze. "You mean you had fun...falling asleep—? S-so when you fell asleep on my lap, that was due to your sheer fun?"
"Uh—wait—"
Sonic backtracked immediately, flushing. "No! I meant—watching the movie—like—I was having so much fun that I—fell asleep?"
He crossed his arms, eyeing Metal suspiciously. "I only fell asleep on your lap 'cause that's the way I ended up leaning."
Metal narrowed his gaze. "So you did not have fun sleeping in my lap. This implies that you have lost the contest. Thus, I am the winner. I am superior at engaging in fun."
Sonic blinked.
"...Wait."
There was a long silence as Metal waited for Sonic's admittance of loss.
"You had fun when I was sleeping on your lap?"
"W-what? H-how could you make such an erroneous assumption?" Metal held Sonic's gaze, tightening his grip on his power cable. "I only left you asleep because you are incalculably less annoying when unconscious!"
"Mhm, sure."
Sonic eyed Metal with amusement now. "Because I know you didn't have fun with the movie."
"What? How could you possibly know that? You were asleep!" Metal pulled his plug from the wall and began to wind up the cable. "But this is just like you, is it not? You are always making claims without evidence."
Sonic hummed. "You looked pretty unimpressed watching it, that's all."
"I still do not understand how you can claim this when you were blatantly asleep! You...you just always—it is always the same with you and—"
Metal groaned. With a final tug, he tucked his power cable back in his chassis, clicking the panel closed atop it.
"You know what? It does not matter. I won. It is an objective fact. You may be deluded enough to try and argue with reality, but it does not matter. What is true is true."
Sonic rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about the beginning of the movie, Metalhead. You know, when I was awake?
"You're the one who said that staring at a screen is the same experience or whatever, so nothing must've changed."
"Yes. Nothing changed. I started this contest superior to you, and I ended this contest superior to you. I enjoyed every single activity more than you. Therefore, I have won. Therefore, we have nothing to discuss."
Metal turned. The hotel room was small, and the door was but a few feet away from him. His battery was charged, and the weather had cleared.
He had no other reason to be here.
Metal stepped forward, but as he reached the threshold of the door, he stopped.
"Oh, I do have one piece of useful information for you. Exactly one week from today, at this very time, I will be in this area once again. You had better not show up at this time, for I will already be here, and therefore you should not be here."
"What?" Sonic asked, confused. "Next week?"
"Affirmative. Did you not hear me?" Metal turned around, meeting Sonic's gaze directly. "I will be here at this hotel at this exact time in exactly one week. I am only giving you this information so you do not mistakenly show up at this time and derail my evening again, as you did tonight."
"...Oh." Sonic smirked. "Oh! Okay, yeah, right."
He stared outside the window, watching the sunny day for a moment before speeding up to Metal.
"Alright. I will definitely not be here," he said, clearly lying. He tapped Metal's nose, an unbelievably amount of smug on his face. "By the way, glad to hear you enjoyed spending time with me."
He gave a small wave, then dashed out the door.
"I did not, I mean…" Metal trailed off. Sonic had already left. His protest would go unheard.
And his nose—although Sonic had barely touched him, he could still feel lingering traces of the sensation.
One week. One week from this exact moment. He would need a plan.
Because Metal fully intended to make his next evening with Sonic an optimal experience.