Oh, yeah, look at that, it's Sonadow time!
Just a quick message to all the reviewers, favouriters and followers of AD/ SL; thank you so much! I never would have written so much of it without your support encouraging me, and I'm glad so many of you are enjoying the plot alongside the smut!
As the description [should] say, this is Yaoi/ BoyxBoy. If that's not your jam, no biggie! AD/ SL will be back with a third installment soon, so sit back a little bit and the first chapter should be out by October, if all goes to plan.
You're not required to read this, so ya know, don't if it isn't your thing?
Also, as Im sure is basically a running joke by now, I'm bad at upload schedules. I have a buffer of five chapters of this story and if we get three reviews and one follow a day, I'll post another the next day until I run out, then you'll just have to put your patient pants on.
Until then, here's scene setting. PWP [vague plot, but it'll do, right?]
ALSO: EACH CHAPTER WILL HAVE A SMALL SECTION OF DEFINITIONS AND PARAMETERS FOR HOW I WRITE HEAT FICS. IF YOU WISH TI LEARN MORE DETAIL REGARDING THIS AND AD/SL LORE, JUST READ THE TOP, ITALICS SECTION OF EACH CHAPTER
And I'm out. Peace!
HEAT (Mobian, all species)
synonyms: Spring Burn; Season; Musk; Rutt
A duration of four to six weeks of increased fertility, sexual desire, attraction and sexual acts amongst all species of the Mobian population. Slight variations in duration of (Heat) exist between [species], but all begin within the first two weeks of Spring, lasting an average of four weeks per individual.
Amongst all Mobians, females of all species are the most directly affected; increased hormone production associated with ovulation and fertility cause a myriad of secondary characteristics, including but not limited to: sexual desire; unintentional promiscuity; sexually dominant behaviour and roaming behaviour.
In modern society, it's common practice for males and females to separate into single gender (as defined by sex organs) 'nests' to avoid unintentional reproduction. Quite often, these nests will be fully stocked with resources and those affected will not leave unless they are forced to.
In female nests, a Matriarch beyond (Heat)'s effects will manage resources and venture out if necessary. In male nests, any individual may leave, as the effects are more easily moderated. (See: Heat Cycles)
DAY 1
[13:56]
Shadow pauses in his research, an ear turned to the rest of the house. All is quiet, as it had been the prior three times he'd thought he'd heard something, and he sets his book aside with a sigh to massage between his eyes.
With Rouge going on about the impending Heat since Winter Solstice, finding peace in their shared home had been near impossible. He'd cursed Towers' bright idea - perhaps a torture technique, if recent months were anything to go by - for them to live together at least five times a day for most of that, an active note to punch the human in the jaw after the Heat ended stuck inside his head with a consiousness pin.
Every time he'd managed to find quiet, she'd appeared within the hour to rummage for something she wanted to send to Vanilla's in advance, should it 'sneak up on her like four years ago'.
It must've been a traumatic event, because she still refused to go into detail about it, even when inebriated, when he tongue moved faster than her brain. Then again, Shadow had been hesitant to ask, in case it kept her talking when all he wanted was peace.
Regardless, the dreaded Heat was apparently upon them, because Rouge had hurriedly filled a bag with clothes and make-up, gave him a peck him on the cheek that lasted just a hint longer than usual, then darted out the door for Vanilla's house like her life depended on it.
Silence filled the cavernous spaces in their home, the open-plan miniature mansion both their paychecks covered filled with furniture Rouge picked and Shadow had agreed on. Footsteps still echoed in rooms he deemed fully furnished, Rouge bugging him to look through catalogues until he forcefully insisted she stop.
Except now, she's gone, has been for five hours and seventeen minutes, and already the house feels… cold.
With a sigh he stands, leaving the book behind as he heads for the kitchen and his other dear friend - the coffee maker. A present from the Commander when they moved in, the once immaculate machine is clean but very well used, the glass of the bean holder and pot below permanently stained an opaque grey-brown from a year of constant use.
He's filling the bean holder with fresh coffee when he hears something that makes him pause. Even though he recognises the sound he stays frozen in the kitchen, head half-turned to the front door as his ear pivots fully to listen. Silence follows, peaceful and quiet, and he's almost certain he needs a therapist when the sound comes again.
Seven hard, rapid knocks. Insistent and a little desperate. Someone at the door?
As far as he's aware, every female he knows is holed up in Vanilla's house with a freezer full of ice cream and a mountain of tissue boxes, while every male is on Angel Island, filling Knuckles' spare rooms to the brim and likely driving him to distraction.
More curious than anything, he returns the now full been holder to its housing, starts off a fresh pot, then heads for the front door. The knocks come harder and faster as he reaches the hallway, passing by the black leather sofa he ordered without asking Rouge, and opens the heavy oak door with a twist of the knob.
Azure quills come into view almost immediately, and Shadow feels a small rush of irritation that nearly has him shut the door and walk away. All that has him open it wider instead, after a brief pause, is his curiosity. "What do you want?"
The tentative smile on Sonic's muzzle falters only slightly. "Nice to see you too, Shads."
"Rouge isn't here," the ebony adds, assuming he's here to see his more sociable housemate, and begins to close the door. It judders to a stop when it hits the red and white sneaker jammed between it and the frame, though.
With a growl, Shadow hauls the door wide open to yell at his younger counterpart only to find him looking oddly apologetic for his behaviour, his hands raised defensively between them.
"Chill a sec, okay?" The phrase doesn't make Shadow any calmer. He can feel a muscle in his forehead twinging, his muzzle curling into a scowl as he folds his arms over his chest, waiting for Sonic to continue. "I need a favour..."
Shadow snorts. "No," he answers bluntly, and has the door halfway closed between them by the time Sonic speaks again.
"C'mon, Shads! We're pals, right?" The ebony doesn't manage to keep his amused exhale to himself, and Sonic's quills sag dejectedly. "Okay, maybe not pals. Uh… Rivals!" His quills perk back up hopefully, along with his ears and tail. "We're rivals! You said it yourself once before, remember? Won't you at least hear me out?"
Seconds pass by while Shadow stares at him, just Sonic being, well… Sonic. With his cheeky grin and nauseating optimism, it's almost a reflex to slam the door in his face, extinguishing a little bit of the sheer positivity the cerulean exuded that Shadow's never managed to feel himself.
But the voices of those he trusted echo in his mind; Rouge reminding him to invite guests in and offer them a drink, and Maria exclaiming how wonderful it would be when he made friends of his own species on Earth one day. With their words swimming around his brain he sighs and opens the door just enough for the hedgehog to squeeze through. "In."
A grin cracks the other's muzzle and he slides through the gap, pausing just beyond the door frame and whistling softly as Shadow pushes it closed. "Nice digs," Sonic states, ears twitching as his words come back slightly warped in echo. "A little empty, maybe, but-"
"We're having coffee," the ebony informs him, interrupting the monologue about furniture Rouge has given him a hundred times as he strides towards the kitchen.
Sonic seems a little taken aback but recovers quickly, jogging at a leisurely pace to catch up. "No sugar. Touch of milk?" Shadow grunts in acknowledgement and he seems content to go back to surveying the home.
The ebony doesn't bother to wait for him when he pauses in the casual sitting room to study the sixty inch television on the wall, aware of his return when he steps belatedly into the breakfast room while still looking back at the sitting area. "How many of you live here? This place must cost a fortune…"
"Rouge and myself," he replies, pushing a mug of coffee across the breakfast bar. Sonic looks dubious and takes a seat, pulling the coffee close and breathing in the scent of roasted beans. Shadow watches him sip it tentatively, already half-way through his first cup of this pot, and waits for him to swallow before asking again: "What do you want, Faker?"
Cringing at his mug's contents, Sonic sets it down before offering a nervous smile. "You know how all the guys go to Angel Island during the Heat? Well, Knux only has so many rooms, and normally, we fill 'em up and everything's cool, right? Thing is, with Silver still being here and me a little fashionably late to the party…"
"Silver got your room." Sonic's nervous smile hikes up a notch and he scratches behind an ear in embarrassment. Then everything falls into place a moment later and Shadow narrows his eyes, enough to freeze the blue hedgehog mid scratch. "And you want to stay here."
"Please?" There's a desperation in the azure's tone Shadow hasn't ever heard before, one that rang through the persistent, rapid knocks on his door and now oozes from the hero's body language; his ears low, quills submissive and irises dilated. "I've got nowhere else to go…"
Internally, Maria reminds him to be kind to those in need, while Rouge lectures him about being courteous to friends, something Shadow is sure translates to rivals. In addition, the cold feeling that plagued him in the library floods back, chilling his bones and reminding him Rouge is going to be gone for at least four weeks, and he barely lasted a few hours without questioning his sanity.
A month of silence and solitude, weeks he'd welcomed before realising it could be so lonely, looms overhead. With the prospect of kicking Sonic out on his tail for a month equal parts amusing and nauseating, Shadow's resolve stalls.
He finds himself conceding to the younger hedgehog before he can rationalise himself out of it, offering the spare room no one's ever used, clean linens from Rouge's stash of bedding, even a towel for the shower, though it all comes with a side of disinterest before he excuses himself to stare at his reflection in a mirror and ask why on Mobius he agreed to let the most annoying hedgehog in history stay in his house for a month.
What's the worst that could happen, Grumpy?
Rouge's teasing voice replies, a flicker of her sly smile drifting through his mind. He has to refrain from embedding his fist the mirror, closing his eyes and taking a stabilising breath, forcing his heart rate back down to a sane level before glancing back to the stern expression mirrored in his reflection.
"I could kill him," he replies nonchalantly. The idea is no more outlandish than the dozen times the prospect popped into his head in previous months, only now seems more likely to occur.
Sonic is notoriously good at winding him up without trying, a combination of his natural character and seeming ignorance of Shadow's desire not to socialise. When he came in small portions - an accidental meet on a mission or a run-in at the coffee shop - he was tolerable, but for an entire month, under his feet in his own home?
Shadow isn't sure he'll survive.
Even as these thoughts cycle through his mind, they're countered with the emotions Rouge has been fostering in him. The azure needed help, and as much as he hated to admit it, Shadow would be saddened should something happen to the irritating spikeball. This was a chance to do something nice, an act of friendship without the associated awkward thank-you's and promises to reciprocate.
"What's the worst that can happen," he repeats in a whisper, a mantra rather than a question as he steels himself for the next month. His reflection has no answers either, staring back at him with even less certainty than he feels before he turns away away with a soft sigh.
"Four weeks," Shadow mutters as he prepares to shower. Staying his hand seems preferable to a month on his own. Marginally. "Just don't kill him for four weeks."