In Sickness and Picturesque Lies

.frame twelve.

Sonic's second class had just ended. The cafeteria wasn't too far away, so he arranged a lunch date with his classmate, Amy Rose. The fellow undergraduate had grabbed a springtime salad before the autumn season cut down leafy greens production. Grape tomatoes beat the chill, and the pecans and raisins made Amy miss her times at a local community center's garden.

"After all, I love raising plants!" Amy's cheeks plumped at the memory of the center's most recent harvest. "They're like my babies! They need tender loving care, too, y'know!"

Sonic's year-round favorite had new options: His beloved chilidog, from the one and only Loco Bueno Mexican restaurant, came in bigger franks and had more toppings to choose from. He went with his usual that day, but he recognized the food seller. It was the wife of the man running the food cart! Loco Bueno did look familiar suddenly, so he congratulated her and her husband's expansion.

On the sides were a cola and fried okra bites. Way less healthy than Amy's apple slices and bottled water. But Amy was completely jealous by how Sonic's diet and reclusive behavior were counteracted by his inhumanly high metabolism.

Sitting by the windows was where it's at: Although, since it was a community college Amy and Sonic could agree that the fresh-meat newcomers would annihilate the peace. A slightly raised alcove, it had room for tables and chairs, a small bar and stools, and a vending machine. A pair of bespectacled warlords were engrossed in their tabletop dungeon-crawler. Another girl sat in front of a window, huddled in her chair, detailing an original character's hair. Right next to her coloring kit were textbooks with papers sticking out every which way. A guy in a flannel shirt was clearly hitting on a rather quiet gentleman in black.

Alas, Sonic had a strong feeling on how that would turn out.

"Hey, Sonic?"

Bright jades met brighter emeralds. "Hm? Yeah?"

"A couple weeks ago, you said you'd started to fall for someone." She took up her fork.

Sonic huffed, remembering himself saying the same thing. His eyes didn't care to remember; they veered off elsewhere.

She toyed with a tomato. "I'd been wanting to know the juicy details, but…you've been kinda sad since you told me that." The fork's outer tong slipped against its flesh. It skipped off the plate and fell to the floor. Amy didn't think much of it, so she leaned over to pick it up.

In her doing so, Sonic smothered his hesitation and decided to tell it to her straight: "Well, that's because…he's taken already."

The tomato slipped right back onto the floor. Amy had thrown her eyes over to his face. A guilty twist had pulled some of his lip into his teeth. His jades couldn't face her; she was bound to judge him. Everything was thrown into perspective now, right? Sonic was yearning for someone else's man. An older, classier, better-off man. A beautifully mysterious, no-nonsense twentysomething, coated in midnight and streaked with tantalizing cherry. An ancient charm kissed his eyes' upper corners; those eyes, themselves, charming and kind. Despite the thorns, metal, leather, and brads Shadow had the voice of an angel. It was somewhat deep, airy, carefully sensitive, as if not to reveal too much about himself.

Even in those happenchance encounters, Shadow exuded patience and tenderness.

"I think your pictures are phenomenal, Sonic…"

"…-onic…? Sonic? Earth to Captain Planet, do you read me?"

Shadow's smile felt genuine. But it was meant for someone else.

Sonic's eyes moistened a bit. "Agh, sorry, Ames. I read you…"

The young man in black didn't know what to make of the other's flannel shirt. But a question mark rose over his head when he was given a slip of paper. A cool wink; then, a blush. It was his phone number.

"I read you loud and clear."

Calling…Calling…

—"Hey, wassup?"

"You'll never guess why I'm calling you."

"…Am I in trouble again?"

"No~!" Shadow had to chuckle, since 20% of the time it was sort of true. "I, uh…I'm in need of your assistance, actually."

Knuckles' eyebrow lifted. "Hmm?"

Not too much time had passed between Shadow's call and Knuckles's arrival. A smooth 1963 Pontiac Grand Prix—a cherished heirloom from his late uncle. With a perfect inside tan and the truest obsidian paint job, it was a car Knuckles couldn't be more proud of. His mother's brother had exquisite taste when it came to cars. Not one wreck, or scratch, or ticket either: That car was as clean as a baby's bottom—down to the gleam.

Knuckles noticed that it needed a wash, so he hopped out and walked up the driveway.

"I was going to pick up dish detergent from the store, but…Ulty decided not to start for me," Shadow whined at his bike's nickname. "It's not gas or oil. Maybe it's the transmission?"

"It's alright, Baby. It's probably just being finicky from the temperature changing," Knuckles got down on a knee and saw to the bike. "I'm pretty handy, so I know a little bit about bikes. 'Ulty' might be sensitive to the weather change since we had that hot day yesterday, but today it's—what—sixty-something?"

"Autumn is here, anyway." Shadow put a finger on his chin. "I didn't think a motorcycle could be temperamental, though." He giggled softly.

"No worries, I got you."

Knuckles was really good with his hands. It was something Shadow noticed earlier on in their dating phase. As recompense for nights-out, meals, and mall shopping Knuckles extended house- and yardwork services to Shadow. One day, it'd be dishwashing; another would be lawn mowing. Maybe some landscaping, especially beating back some unruly hedges. There were days where Shadow was just too tired to give his home the attention it needed; Knuckles didn't mind tying his spines back to dust or vacuum.

Shadow hung close the echidna a bit. A mild fascination had entered his eyes as he watched the twenty-seven-year-old work his magic. And, just like magic, the bike roared to life.

"Yeah," Knuckles didn't want to sound like a braggart. He scratched the back of his head. "A fuse in the transmission was shot, that's all. Good thing you had a spare." He patted one of the saddle compartments. Then, with the same hand, wiped the sweat from his brow. "Whew, had to do some finagling, but not enough to jack something up. You sailing smooth now, Baby." He winked.

The hedgehog pressed himself against the echidna's chest and snuggled him. An obliging hand came up his waist and down again, making him purr from the loving tickle. "You really are handy," Shadow cooed, "my very own Mr. Mechanic. Thank you…!"

A mischievous kiss caught Knuckles off-guard. It landed right on his lower lip. Where did it come from? And why didn't Shadow surprise him more often? He must've been really grateful, the echidna surmised as he found his hands moving up and down Shadow's waist. Shadow was a self-discovered metrosexual: He primped and preened himself, never liked dirt or grime, and barely knew how to cook; to make up for it he knew how to prioritize, balance checkbooks, and live efficiently—knowing how to save and make it work in his favor.

He could've easily been an accountant or someone's secretary—but Knuckles's mind wandered a little too far as the kiss delved deeper.

"Boots…or stockings with garters?"

Gently, they broke away. Amorous gazes were exchanged. Pure tanzanites smiled at those bashful carmines' aversion.

"Still gotta get some dish detergent, right?"

"Yeah. I should probably get to it." Shadow took a half-step back. His chin had tilted downward, but his blush was still fairly obvious. "I'll be right back. If you want," he gasped, reaching out a bit. He snagged onto Knuckles's sleeve; he smiled, crooked but shy. "…You're welcome to stay a while. Just wait for me here. You don't have to drive all the way back yet."

Knuckles took up the twenty-six-year-old's offer, and kissed his hand while he was at it. "Alright. Be careful, Baby."

"Okay. I will."

On went the helmet. Off went Shadow and Ulty, from the driveway to the corner. And beyond.

Sonic decided to wander around the neighborhood before his next class. With nothing scheduled for the next hour and a half, he had some time on his hands. Autumn was scratching at the Earth in efforts to find a place to nestle itself in. Temperatures wavered. Sonic figured it'd be a smart idea to wear a scarf. It was orange and blue with white stripes in-between.

His brows furrowed. "Huh, Halloween's coming up, isn't it?" He looked up at the overcast sky. "I haven't even thought of what to dress up as…?" Gears clinked, cranking through a rolodex of memories. Suddenly, a wrench was thrown in. "Yeah, then I'll need to be in my new place the next day…Ugh." All the Sonics in his rolodex memory whined in unison. "F-M-L…" he groaned, "What new place?"

Dread nailed him like a Ghost-Type Curse. The energy to look for an apartment had been sapped right out of him. There was no longer any vigor. His aunt's coaching could only do so much. Darren's help could only extend so far. Most of it had to draw from self-motivation; when the whitewash had reduced to a trickle, Sonic was the first one to notice it.

The deadline crept closer and closer to his heels. It had threatened to suck the life out of him: Without a place to live, not only did I mean no roof, no food, and no comfort, it also meant no electricity, no Wi-Fi, and no shipping address. No more video games or online purchases, for a long while.

But Sonic did have a few weeks left. Juggling school, work, and apartment finding could only go on for so long. His aunt made sure he saved his money. He had the right means to hold down a fort. All he had to do was—

Look up.

Outside a convenience store up the street, Sonic spotted Ulty. It had that undeniably clean coat. Gleaming chrome. Crimson stitching in the leather seat. Like an autograph, the name "Harley Davidson" graced the rearmost pad. Hooked on its back was the rider's helmet.

Sonic couldn't speak. He'd thrown his hands onto his head. "What's he doing here?—Not again! Is that you, karma? Why must you do this to me?! Haven't you laughed at me enough for one chapter of my life?! Grah!"

Sonic stomped a foot on the ground. His tantrum looked a little too comical to be taken seriously, since he cycled from crying to raging—crocodile tears pleading to the heavens, to cursing unintelligibly at an unseen force, and finally sulking on a nearby bench. Thank goodness no one else was around.

An irritated knot wiggled over his head. "Grr…?" When he looked over his arms, he heard a farewell and a plastic bag rustling. His ears peaked, now attentive.

Click, clack…click.

It was Shadow. He was checking the receipt for his purchase.

Sonic seized his chance. Their fourth chance encounter: "H-Hi there…Man, talk about dumb luck on my part, right? For us to keep meeting like this, right…?"

A rather slow glance, but Shadow showed the college freshman a good-natured smile. "I suppose. Are you liking the job so far?"

"Yeah! It's great—just what I was looking for, actually!" He watched Shadow put away his bag as he went on. "I wasn't sure about it at first, to be honest. I thought nature and cityscapes were my thing. And they still can be, but…it's different when there's a human subject, y'know?"

Shadow returned with a light chuckle. "Well, I wouldn't know. I've only experienced one side of the lens."

A humiliated flush. "Ah! Gah, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it to sound weird or anything!"

"No, no. Don't worry, it's fine." Professional gloves were adjusted before Shadow swung a leg over the driver's seat. "But keep at it. The fall semester's going to end soon, isn't it?"

The flush lightened. Sonic blinked a little. "Uh…yeah. Man, that's right, too…!"

"Didn't you say you needed to find a place before November came around?"

A light had rekindled in Sonic's eyes. The flush was returning bit by bit, but in rosier tinges.

"If you want, I have an idea on where to start."

That troublesome heart startled hammering against his chest wall.

"Why not try the one behind you? It looks decent."

Perked ears twitched a little. Sonic turned his sights on a two-story complex right over his shoulder. From the looks of it, Shadow was right. It was fenced with wrought-iron. It also had a healthy lawn and a small maple tree on the walkway's right side. The front door was on the boring side, but at least it wasn't missing a window. In fact, all the windows were intact. A stray can and a candy wrapper, but nothing more than that. There was even a "For Rent" sign in the lowermost right window.

"It even has a phone number you can call."

Another sign was stuck in the outer lawn. Just below the main message showed a contact number: Undoubtedly, the landlord's.

Shadow encouraged Sonic. "Why don't you go on up and make an inquiry? If the sign's there, there must be an opening, right?" Before strapping on his helmet, Shadow added, "I think that dumb luck led you to the right place…again. See ya 'round."

A friendly wave, and Shadow was off once again. Ulty's engine roared like a noble lion. Clear, commanding, but fairly gentle, as well.

Sonic gulped. There wasn't much he could do, but he promised himself to call that number. He jotted it down on the tiny notepad in his pocket. Putting it back, a strange revelation came into Sonic's mind.

"Maybe he's guiding me…in the right direction. His smile, and his confidence in me…?" It made him clutch his chest.

"I think that dumb luck led you to the right place again…"

Such a gentle smile.

"Yeah…? But this feeling, this yearning…?" The blue hedgehog couldn't fathom karma's intentions. Was fate working towards or against his desires? His heart was in no one else's hands. It confused him. It frustrated him. It made him want to persevere, despite the odds stacking against him. He knew it was wrong, but he wanted Shadow anyway. But how far was Sonic willing to go?

"See ya 'round…" the sentiment echoed.

It stung—the pain of not knowing, of being unsure. Of being afraid of the consequences. Not even his tears would wash it away.

"Why won't it go away? It just won't…go away."

Frame Twelve Photographed…

Jun Yabriel: Lol, lots of references in this chpt, huh? I guess I'm in a good mood. It went from Pokémon to Captain Planet to Karakuridôji Ultimo. Especially since Shadow's bike and the manga's main protag share a nickname. Also, Shadow is kind of a priss...only to emphasize the roles he and Knuckles take in the relationship. Despite popular belief, roles do exist in relationships. The wife isn't happy just being the wife; she's gotta hold up her end of the bargain, too! (Shadow would be a no-nonsense wife, I think. No lazing around and playing video games up in here.)

Shadow's the breadwinner, too. Knuckles, the handy jack-of-all-trades "Gimme something to fix and I'll fix it" kind of guy. Neither macho or scrawny. He's just a laidback in-between. The chemistry between them will meander in and out of future chpts. There will be a part 2 to this...and maybe a part 3, depending on where my Muse is.

I love the reception I'm getting! But keep at it - don't stop being awesome, you guys! My confidence - and the storyline - are building...!