In Sickness and Picturesque Lies

.frame thirteen.

Ulty rumbled to a halt in Shadow's driveway. A kick of the stand brought it into its proper balance, and a vinyl tarp would surely shield it from the pre-autumn chill. Shadow removed his helmet, as well as the bottle of Dawn he'd purchased. Rider boots clacked against the smooth concrete.

Click, clack—splish?

Water? The driveway had Knuckles's Pontiac in it. Shadow could see water trickling from it, down the slight ramp, and into the street crevices. It had ran as far as the sewer grate two houses down. Shadow blinked wildly, looking for a red head full of dreadlocks.

"Knuckles?" He trotted over to the other side of the car and found the echidna detailing chrome accents. A hardy sigh, before his hand went to his hip. "Do you really need this much water? It's going on my bill, you know."

"Nah, Baby, it's alright. I cut off the water a few minutes ago," the slightly older man waved it off. "You good."

"Oh yeah? Then, what would you call that?"

Shadow shot a thumb over his shoulder. That "trail of tears" seemed to be coming from Shadow's wallet. Surely it hadn't been running for anywhere near an hour, but Shadow's back quills had prickled a bit from slight irritation. "You should've asked me first, at least…" His ears had flattened against his head. "I know she's your baby, but give me a heads-up before you use so much water."

Knuckles scratched the back of his head. A huge sweat drop fell from his temple. "Y-Yeah…My bad. I love you." The tagline sounded like he was used to being in trouble with the younger man.

"I know. That's why you're going to pay half the water bill this month."

"Wah?! Wait, me? I do?"

"Mm-hm. It's never outrageously high, so be a dear, okay?"

"But—Baby—I got my own bill to pay! And that rinky-dink apartment I'm at ain't got a water hose!" Comical tears leapt from his wobbly eyes. "Babe, c'mon! Don't do this to me—I got a gig tonight, and she needed a wash! Lemme off the hook, just this once…Please?"

An annoyed vein pulsed at Shadow's temple, in turn. "…You owe me dinner and dessert, then."

"I'll make you whatever you want."

It was never hard for Knuckles to win Shadow over with food. The twenty-six-year-old had survived, somehow, with his nonexistent cooking skills. Abysmal in his own kitchen, Shadow was sure he'd burned the townhouse down if he tried to cook. It was a chef's mini-dream: Granite counters, stainless steel appliances, even a French door-style refrigerator. An open galley, so Shadow could ogle the echidna as he worked the utensils like magic. Why hadn't he pursued a culinary arts career? It was a timeless, ageless skill; the job market always needed cooks. Maybe he'd tried it before? Maybe it never appealed to him? He enjoyed it, for the most part. "Cooking for you ain't ever a chore," he'd say so casually under a sexy wink.

Over crossed arms and a sore huff, Knuckles pulled Shadow closer to him. The hedgehog stood rather shorter than the echidna; the boots didn't help him much. Knuckles noticed the brightening blush smoothing itself over the hedgehog's face. A pouting lip made Shadow's mouth look so kissable; his averted gaze wouldn't be too hard to bypass. Not quite as buxom as a full-fledged woman, Shadow's lower half was curvier than most men his age.

They didn't stop there, however. Knuckles found his hands cupping Shadow's buttocks. Dark denim and cotton bikini-briefs were the only barriers against the sensual caress. The twenty-six-year-old's blush dampened even more.

"What do you want for dinner? What sounds good to you?"

"…Hmph." Not-as-testy carmines stole a glance at the Pontiac's glistening sheen. He had to admit: He could see his reflection in it. Then, a more endearing gleam skirted across them. "I think I'd like a teriyaki dish…Maybe. Don't quote me on that."

"No problem, Baby. I'll make you anything you want…free of charge."

The redheaded echidna leaned in for a kiss, but a defensive grade of protection greeted him instead. "Agh! No~, your shirt's wet!"

A couple blinks. Then, a wily smirk: "So…you want to take it off, then?"

Scarlet, claret, cherry, crimson—whatever red Shadow's face decided to turn into, it was. Shadow could've swooned from all the blood rushing into his face. They were in his driveway, virtually in public. Not many people treaded the sidewalks. A bus rider or two, but nothing heavy. However, Shadow was surrounded by relatively old neighbors. The city's historical district was a hotspot for better-off retirees and downsizers. Mrs. Dillard hadn't been the only "residential old maid."

What if Mr. Swanson hobbled out to get his paper and saw a man groping another man inappropriately like that? What would happen if Mr. and Mrs. Douglas overheard their public escapade? God forbid if Mr. Remy's grandchildren chased a ball up the street and caught them kissing!

Comical steam rushed out of Shadow's ears. "You get inside. Now." He pushed his hands against Knuckles's back and shoved him towards the front door. "You can be a horny toad inside."

Knuckles couldn't help laughing. "Hey, the only one being a horny toad is you! Ha ha ha!"

"Not so loudly—my neighbors will wonder…!"

Knuckles's shirt felt clammy against Shadow's biker gloves. And, somehow, he envisioned an actual horned toad croaking to his life's soundtrack.

Frame Thirteen Photographed…