AN: I've been shipping Sonadow for exactly seven years as of today (thanks, random blog post from 2010). In honor of that, have some fluff.
"Entangled in You"
He'd never imagined that this would happen to him. This. It made him feel weak; yet he couldn't get enough of it. Without a doubt, it would be the death of him. And he had already changed so much—
It was two a.m. As usual, he couldn't sleep. He was lying on his side, staring at the wall and the side of his bedmate's head while thinking about absolutely nothing. The longer he gazed in his direction, the stronger he felt his heart beating within him. And it was all because of him. There was no other explanation for it. Him, his arch-rival and former enemy, the only person who'd ever come close to being considered his equal in anything, the one and only Sonic the Hedgehog. It was his fault that he felt compelled to linger at his side with one of his bare hands absentmindedly running up and down his back. He almost never took his gloves off for any reason; but he had done so only a few hours earlier without hesitation. What had Sonic done to him to make him feel and behave so unlike himself?
It had started with a smile— nothing out of the ordinary. Over a period of weeks turned months turned years, one simple smile led to several, which led to a series. Each one made him doubt himself a little more. It was impossible for him to feel that way... wasn't it? He certainly couldn't feel that way about Sonic, of all people. S-Sonic? What was Sonic to him? He knew that Sonic liked him, but did he feel the same way? Could he? He could. Did he? No, of course he didn't! Did he really? He did.
But he could never let him know, because it was dangerous. They were rivals; they were never meant to be together. Besides, he was immortal and Sonic wasn't. Even if they did get together, it would never work out.
Five years and one virtual catalyst later, here he was, lying beside him.
He knew the name of what was humming in his chest and steadily filling every inch of him with warmth, but he had never conveyed it to Sonic through words. Early in their relationship, they had simultaneously discovered that physical interaction enabled them to say more than language ever could. Still, Shadow felt the need to say it to him now, like this: whisper-quiet against his shoulder, where he knew he'd never hear it. It was the only way.
"I love you."
And he did, damn it. He actually did.