Author's Note 1: This work is a part of "Heavy Hitter," a mature series set in the Olympic world of sports. Main characters include Slugger Sonic the Hedgehog, Sponsor Clutch the Opossum and Ice Slicer Jet the Hawk.
Tycoon Clutch offers sponsorship to baseball player Sonic after a poorly handled scandal that almost costed his career.
Following the breakup with All-Star Amy, an affair with Ice Slicer Jet culminated into a lawsuit from the Olympic champion's wealthy father, Clutch's business partner. In order to remain Major League, Sonic trades obscurity for the expansion of Clutch's network of underground activities into the sports world.
Between opulence and yacht parties harbors an illicit, codependent and transactional relationship between world-famous prodigy and the sponsor thrice his age.
SHALLOW WATERS
"You're late."
Clutch was always so punctual. Sonic tsked audibly, styling his head spines backward with a wooden brush. After they stuck, he put his baseball cap on and checked the eye black on his muzzle before answering the call on speaker.
"As if you won't take half an hour to get hard before we start the fun."
"Let me see you."
And there it was. Sonic wondered when his sponsor would ask for a photo. He picked the phone from the mirrored table and raised it, taking an angled picture of his regular baseball player uniform without showing his face. On the click, his blue jersey, striped gloves, knee-high socks and black shoes were visible. The Sonic logo on his chest was slightly wrinkled along with his assigned number: 91. His shirt got tighter since the last game due to arduous training.
Not that Clutch minded. In fact, he loved his toned bosom.
Sonic got a reaction right after sending the image.
"Beautiful... you know I can't resist you in uniform," he could hear the tycoon suck in his saliva obscenely. Senile old fuck. "Where's the plug I gave you? You'll meet a few of my associates tonight. You remember Mimic, don't you? Slinger's right-hand man?"
'Arms dealing with that kitty again?' he wanted to ask.
But they weren't friends. And this was maintenance.
"You dirty old man... this isn't what we agreed on. But I can't turn down a challenge, can I?" said the baseball player nonchalantly, used to a change of plans. "Plug's in," he acknowledged the source of his discomfort, an anal plug with a blue gem, the same color as his fur, disguised under his tail. "Right up my anus. I'm clenching my butt cheeks around it," he wasn't lying. "I'll bring lube in case your friends have any ideas."
"It's just business, Sonic," he could feel the opossum's grin.
"Did you send in a chauffeur yet?"
"Chauffeur?" Clutch laughed. "Take a Moto-Taxi. You'll need the preparation," someone in the distance talked to his sponsor, probably Rough or Tumble. He reminded before hanging up. "Don't forget the bat."
Twirling his wooden bat around in boredom, Sonic growled and requested a motorbike ride on his phone. He didn't verify the plate number, ULT1 M4T3, vaguely distracted by the rider's profile image, a starfish-headed black hedgehog. Not so friendly. Verging his forties. Probably silent, too. Alright. Drowning in debt, he couldn't hire a personal driver anymore. Either way, Sonic was lucky no one in his luxury apartment building used such lowlife services, so he wouldn't be recognized as long as his cap remained low.
It was almost 1 A.M. Sonic kept the device on his spines and closed his eyes to push the plug further into his entrance, gasping in both pain and pleasure. He couldn't lie; he was tense to go out on a Friday like this, even at night. He wiped around it with a gloved finger so the THC lube wouldn't let the toy slide down much. The gem was thick enough for it to stay put on the long ride to White Park Zone. Thus, he grasped the bat he had thrown in the air and left his penthouse, walking towards the elevator.
He mentally thanked the eye black for hiding his rosy cheeks.
The moto-taxi rider was already honking by the time he reached the stairs to the sidewalk. He lowered his cap again, watching the other hedgehog from the corner of his eye: he wore a grey racing suit with white and yellow accents, silver bracelets and anklets and heeled shoes, lusty body covered from neck to toe. On the left side of his chest, he could make out the word 'Shadow' in bold. Sonic knew he was ogling, but the uniform suited his proud and daunting stance on the bike. Speaking of which, he realized his motorcycle was a limited Dark Rider, an incredibly expensive brand these days. Either stolen or rented for sure, though if not...
How the mighty have fallen, huh?
"Good evening," the stranger spoke, not sparing him a glance.
At the sound of his masculine voice, Sonic's tail perked up, exposing the blue plug instantly. He held the baseball bat behind his back and strode to the vehicle in desperation.
How humiliating. He had to sit down and fast.
"Evening, pal," his tone came out huskier than normal. Sonic cleared his throat when 'Shadow' provided a helmet with cat-like ears, waving it aside. "Nah, I'm a hedgehog too," by law, they were not required to wear a helmet on the road, able to curl up and use their spines for protection in case of an accident.
He sat behind the man, lips pursing shut after the plug brushed on the vinyl seat.
"Heading to 'White Park Grand Chateau'?" Shadow confirmed the ride on his phone.
"Yeah. It's a big lodge in the mountains. I'm in kind of a hurry," he barely finished his sentence when the engine roared, only giving him time to place the bat under his arm and hold on the cowl before they took off at full throttle. "Whoa!"
Traveling from Skyscraper Scamper to White Park Zone could take a while by bike. Given his curt remark, Shadow made sure he'd reach the chateau at the early hours of dawn if they kept riding at breakneck speed. The empty roads became a blur of black and orange, making Sonic feel slightly dazed. Every time they passed through a bumpy path, the athlete would see stars, bouncing on the seat steeply.
His hole wouldn't stop clenching and unclenching. It appeared that the lube was starting to take effect.
As if the highway weren't enough, the low-fuel light flashed on his ride's panel. So much for acceleration.
"Dammit," Shadow cursed under his breath.
"Oh, come on... don't do this to me," Sonic whined in exasperation.
"You should've said you were late in the chat," the black hedgehog reduced the velocity, taking a shortcut to the nearest gas station.
"Who said anything about late?" he retorted, trying to settle in a comfortable position.
A sharp turn had Sonic lose his balance.
"Stay still or you'll fall off," a gloved hand pushed his thigh closer to the motorcycle.
Sonic released a shaky breath and frowned, blue fur standing on end. Shadow was right.
But he would have to hold his slim waist for that.
"Can– can I...?" his fingers hovered the black hedgehog's sides.
"Suit yourself," Shadow complied, indifferent. "Here. I'll hold it," he looked over his shoulder to receive the baseball bat.
Approaching the rider would've been easier if his physique weren't his type. Once his arms wrapped around the other's mid-section, Sonic felt an onslaught of sensations run down his core. The synthetic fiber of Shadow's racing suit couldn't be felt through his gloves, yet he smartly stroked where it clung to his belly, defined and tempting. He wouldn't dare break the silence, locking their hips together as the harsh winds made Shadow's quills bounce gently, lavender fragrance a soothing aphrodisiac.
The athlete saw his own face in the convex mirror, arousal evident in its neutral features. Blaming it on the plug, he stared down before a chain of speed bumps in the avenue pushed his growing mound against the older hedgehog's tail, exposed other than his head and back spines. Tricked by the unconscious mind, his palm slipped and ended on Shadow's crotch during the abrupt back and forth, being taken and unceremoniously moved upward to stay on its previous place.
Sonic gulped dryly, aware of Shadow exhaling through his nostrils in annoyance. Fastest slugger alive or not, he couldn't distance his lower body from the rider's in time once they were back on a straight level path, gas station right up ahead.
The tip of his sneaky cock had already touched the underside of Shadow's tail.
Damage done, it all happened within an instant. The baseball player swore inaudibly and tried to hide his dick, halfway out, as Shadow suddenly cut up a truck and drove his motorcycle onto a dark alley, dimmed street lights their only source of direction after he turned off his vehicle's own and braked.
The man dismounted with a tight grip around the bat.
"Are you humping me?" he asked in disbelief, seizing the passenger's arm before red eyes widened at his groin. "You sicko!"
"No! I'm... ouch!" Shadow began to hit Sonic in the ribs furiously with the wooden bat. "Fuck, that hurt! Stop! It's not like tha–"
The slugger dragged himself forward to escape the beating, laying sprawled on his back while holding his torso protectively.
Shadow's attention went to the pillion, scowling at its wet surface. Most likely glinting with lube and sweat.
"What is this?" he then found something blue flickering under the hedgehog's balls. "A plug? You sat with this shit on my bike?" his tone lowered as he bore down to grasp his jersey, smashing the back of his head against the fuel tank. "...I'll fucking kill you," the threat came through gritted teeth, menacingly real.
"Wait!" Sonic interjected before Shadow choked him to death. "Can you yank it in one go?" his shirt was released before leather fingertips viciously dug around his entrance, snatching the sex toy out without a care. Hollow, his stretched ring burnt at the abuse. "Fuck! Fuck you! Argh!" he moaned and writhed in agony then relief, cock noticeably hard.
"Hmph. You're welcome," Shadow scrunched up his nose, giving his waxed hole, contracting and relaxing in reflex, a once over. "Tch... you ruined my seat," he stuck behind the bike, pocketing the anal plug. "Lick it off," he urged Sonic to get up by waving the baseball bat around. "I won't ask twice."
"Alright, alright..." Sonic carefully slid off the motorcycle, taking a deep breath to test if a rib was broken. So far so good.
He wouldn't rebel against Shadow's order. Anger lingered in the rider's pupils, implying he was ready to break every single bone in his body. Obedient yet shrewd, Sonic shifted around to face the vehicle's rear, standing with his back to its owner, whose bat lowered in waiting. They were the same height, which would make things a lot more interesting.
The slugger positioned himself in a way to calm the other's spirits, holding the motorbike's subframe to lean down and run his tongue flat against the slippery pillion. Closing his eyes as he licked it clean slowly, and thoroughly, Sonic heard a change in the rider's breath at the vulgar sight, the presence of a stranger this close to his moist pucker risky but exciting. He spread his legs apart and bent over on purpose, lengthy shaft hanging sideways until it came in direct contact with the embossed plate, hips leisurely bucking forward.
His intense, emerald gaze found Shadow's face through the bar-end mirror. Leering at his ass, the black hedgehog had his left hand on his hip – the one securing the wooden bat – as the other rested over his mouth, quietly panting in containment. If Shadow wanted him to give his bike oral, then it should receive in style. When Sonic held his raptorial eyes in the reflection, intimidating one another's, Shadow licked his lips, openly turned on by his tongue flickering on the seat as if it ate an overstimulated cunt. He felt the rider's concealed boner ghost against his vulnerable hole.
Tension arose.
Sonic leaned backwards to straighten his posture, gaping at the clothed warmth on his pucker. Once he turned around, Shadow's eyes widened in slight turmoil and he gave a short step back to avoid the athlete's member, brushing past his leg. He couldn't help but find the reaction curious, prideful of his own size. Sonic unfastened a glove, resorting to invade Shadow's personal space as his erection twitched under his thigh gap and taunted his sack. The rider glared, clearly against the prospect of intercrural.
"Anything else, biker?" the blue hedgehog steadily glided a peach finger into Shadow's glove, pressing his wrist to make him drop the bat.
Sonic felt his muscles stiffen instead. Shadow's lips hovered over his in the proximity, fierce gaze studying his eye black and confident smirk meticulously. The slugger never backed down from a challenge, no matter how dangerous it seemed. More digits slid down the rider's glove, tracing the protruding veins and bones on the back of his hand like an old treasure map. Shadow stared into his mouth, opening his own before Sonic closed their distance with a tentative lick to sharp fangs. Halted by the silver bracelet, his palm felt the other's pulse increase when he bit into his lower lip, releasing it in a sensual tug.
The baseball bat fell to the ground with a thud, glove joining it afterwards.
A big hand grasped the side of Sonic's face as if to knead it, claws honed except for the two longest fingers, where they were wisely cut. Startled, the athlete left his bare palm over his chest, on the word 'Shadow' casing his heartbeat, hesitating to push him back. His gloved hand found the rider's biceps when he locked a grip around his entire waist under the jersey. Tables had turned and wildly so.
"You..." Shadow warned – or requested – before smashing his lips against Sonic's in a frantic kiss.
Gone were his inhibitions at the hint of a foreign tongue asking in. The baseball player didn't waste time leaning on the motorcycle's rear, making out with the stranger as they dry humped while standing, rapid thrusts uncoordinated. His palms eagerly roamed to touch Shadow's whole body through the skin-tight uniform, exploring secret opportunities. Even in the darkness, after their swift embrace ended and their panting intermingled during a glance down, Sonic could perceive the outline of Shadow's girth under the racing suit, hoping it was as big as his desire to be mounted.
"I think he wants out," Sonic whispered into Shadow's ear, receiving a grunt of acknowledgement. "Should I release the beast?" he removed his other glove and quickly groped his erection over the fabric, stroking the bump in circles before giving it a delicious slap.
The rider flinched with a low, primal groan. His claw scratched Sonic below the eye black.
"Go ahead, bitch," then he dared with a grin, making space for the striptease.
Smiling cockily, Sonic undid the front zipper of Shadow's outfit, revealing a broad chest with soft pale fur, fashioned like wings in a rather manly combination. The more he slid the fastener down, the damper his jet-black coat was. Preparing for the main course, he unclothed the stranger's torso leisurely, careful not to pinch his hairs. His toned abdomen let a sole drop of sweat be absorbed by trimmed white pubes, stuck to a messy happy trail.
Ruby eyes fluttering shut, Shadow hummed deeply when his dick got finally freed, shaft flopping out to make the slugger's throb. With his mouth agape and chest heaving in anticipation, Sonic shuddered at the luscious view, nose relishing in its salty scent after a long day of work.
He hasn't met a man this hung in ages. That alone made him static.
"Cold feet?" Shadow pried, mocking his stupor. "Touch it."
The blue hedgehog snorted, refusing to believe a stranger got him flustered. He didn't want to tease himself, because he knew he'd be done for in a minute. Therefore, Sonic recovered the THC lube he had saved for Clutch's orgy to get a few pumps onto his hands, rubbing them together. He saw Shadow's other glove slip to the ground, skinny hands brazenly grabbing and squeezing his ass cheeks. Brought nearer to that strong chest, the slugger moaned, forearm pushing his own boner aside so he could indulge Shadow's, thumbing and stroking his cut tip and shaft calmly yet resolutely.
Shadow remained taciturn, busy unbuttoning the top of Sonic's jersey to leave his shoulder exposed. After landing an approving smack on his backside, that probably would ache for a bit, he started to bite and suck the athlete's neck and collarbone. High and relaxed, Sonic hushed himself by doing the same to the curve of Shadow's pointy ear, holding his head down against his shoulder while stimulating his veiny cock, erratic fap sounds disturbing the quiet of the night.
The rider lazily fucked into his hand, special lube reducing the skin-to-skin friction. He retracted to lick and kiss Sonic's cheek a few times, nuzzling his face while lost in sensation.
"Keep it up and you'll cum on the palm of my hand," the slugger's gruff voice had an edge of amusement to it. "Taste it," he let go of Shadow's head and offered two slick digits to his mouth, taken wordlessly and sucked on mid-groan. "It gets real good after a while," he fondled his shaved balls, middle finger caressing their stitch line delicately.
"Yeah... damn..." Shadow's oily lips glinted in the warm street light. He played with the blue hedgehog's tail, believing in the promise of a smoother ride.
"Want me to blow you, dude?" Sonic nibbled Shadow's ear again, unhanding his dick after he saw somebody walk on the pavement and turn their head at what transpired in the alley.
He knelt before he even got an answer.
On the contrary to what he thought, Shadow didn't want his mouth. He made that much clear by grasping his long tongue in a pinch.
"No," the black hedgehog's expression changed from enraptured to displeased. "Turn around and lay on my bike."
Sonic peeked behind Shadow's thigh, but the loner had already vanished. His tongue was released then.
"I don't have a condom on me," he informed, bending over the pillion to lie on his stomach anyway. It should be a problem, though not one he particularly cared about in that moment.
"I do," the stranger shoved a hand into the back pocket of his uniform, shaking a row of sealed condoms at his distrusting face.
Frowning over his bare shoulder, the blue hedgehog raised his rump higher, so his leaking dick hung above the seat, legs positioned on each side of the motorcycle for both his sake and the vehicle's. He folded his arms under his chin impatiently, ears perking up after something heavy got retrieved off the ground.
"What the heck are you...?" Sonic saw Shadow rip open the packaging using his teeth, baseball bat slanted against the tire. His heart rate spiked in realization. "Oh. You can stretch me in the old-fashioned way if you like."
"My hands are dirty," the rider patiently covered the bat's handle in a blue rubber, self-lubricated. "Besides, you'd need three fingers. Same shit," lifting and jiggling the object in Sonic's line of sight, he gave him a wicked smirk.
Realistically, a notorious Olympic champion should know better than let a stranger impale his hole in the middle of nowhere. For Sonic, it didn't matter as long as no one disclosed his whereabouts to the press.
Flinging the lube back in Shadow's general direction, he ignored the pain in his scrotum to favor his bat's proper oiling. Shadow didn't take long, soaking the condom enough before parting his butt cheeks with the end of the handle. Sonic whined softly against his forearm; the disk felt wider than the plug, especially when it started caressing his pucker as a fist kept his wagging tail up.
With a subtle lift of his hips, the achieved angle helped the object enter past the ring, narrow handle sliding in effortlessly as Sonic, standing on his tiptoes, whimpered in elation, legs trembling and cock threatening to burst. He continued delaying his orgasm, even after Shadow pushed the bat further, only withdrawing to build a rhythm that massaged his tight walls while inducing a euphoric state of mind.
"You like that?" his hoarse tone made Sonic almost cum.
"Feels so good..." the slugger replied dreamily, fighting the urge to masturbate. "Like making love to a teammate," and he wasn't wrong, since he was nothing without that bat.
Shadow's evil chuckle had Sonic beg for more through a pleading murmur. He edged as the bat quickly moved in and out, amplifying the numbing sensation of the lube. The stranger told him to take it, got him crying out into his arm, twisting the handle deeper inside to force open his sensitive entrance like a drill, unforgiving pace a blissful torture endured in silence.
"T-take it out. I'm gonna–" Sonic managed to utter, squirming around the makeshift dildo while coating the seat in saliva.
"No, you're not," Shadow pulled his head quills, clasping a broken glass bottle among the dingy passage's trash. He held it underneath Sonic's cock on the motorbike. "Now you can come undone. Fill it up."
Core tightening to the point of no return, Sonic climaxed with a muffled groan, directing his shaft into the cup as ropes of hot semen spurted and joined residual beer at its base. He properly sat on the motionless handle, applying indirect pressure against his prostate to milk himself until the last drop. After going limp, the slugger breathed heavily and stroked his empty balls in repose, bat retreating slowly once the hand on his disheveled spines did so.
"All creamed for ya," Sonic wiped his slit and licked the cum off his thumb. The grip around the cracked bottle hadn't budged. "What? Won't drink it?"
The black hedgehog yanked the cup a hair's breadth away from Sonic's abdomen, throwing it on the opposite side of the alley. The bottle shattered in a rain of fluids and glass, scaring off a lost rodent in the corner. The slugger jumped out of his skin and shielded his flaccid member, virtually cut by a shard. Crazy fucking bastard. He wouldn't mourn over spilled cum, though – priorities first.
"Sheesh... Hold on, I need to–" he got off the motorcycle and stood before a wall, holding his cock out to take a piss on the scattered filth. "Ah..."
"I don't like waiting, hedgehog," Shadow already had a condom around his dick, lubed up and rock-hard. "My turn. Ass up, face down," he signaled for the seat at his front, placing the uncovered bat on the ground.
"Me neither," Sonic wiggled his shaft around, then reclaimed his spot on the pillion. Honoring the rider's demand just because he liked said position, he adjusted his baseball cap and spread his hole apart with two digits after fingering it. "Put it in, dearest."
Grumpy about the delay, Shadow slapped his cock against the athlete's flushed pucker a few times, acute noise preceding the insertion of his tip, preyed muscle loose and silky. With eye ridges furrowing and mouth hanging open, Sonic focused on the thick member stretching him vaster than the handle, clingy grip to his hips leaving marks he wanted branded on flesh. Growling in satisfaction, the black hedgehog pushed Sonic's torso past the seat, having the side of his face rest on the fuel tank as he straddled the motorcycle to bottom out.
There was a moment when they just drew in a breath, entwined as one. It felt cosmical.
Like the fuck of a lifetime.
And then, the moment faded before Sonic could even relish in it. Shadow started pounding hard and fast without giving his walls proper time to adapt, constricted balls smacking against blue-furred ones ruthlessly. Dominated by the stranger's carnal instincts, the baseball player bit his own finger and panted against it with a weak grasp around the handlebar, taking inch by inch like a pro before tears began to swell in the corners of half-lidded eyes, spent dick brushing raw against the seat.
"S-slow down..." he asked on a whim. "I wanna feel you inside."
Shadow leaned over the slugger's back and opted for gentle thrusts, wrapping his arms around his stomach as they moved back and forth in a measured tempo.
"Shh. Weren't you in a hurry?" he whispered beside his cheek, licking away a teardrop that stained his eye black.
Sonic chuckled tiredly. He hoped he wasn't blushing at the treatment. So, this guy takes in every word, huh?
"That was before I saw your package. I have time now," he traced Shadow's lips, scratching his ego.
To hell with Clutch and his partners. He would make this encounter last.
Exalted, Shadow snickered and covered Sonic's mouth with his hand, briskly peppered with wet kisses. What came next was a loud strike to his ass, making the blue hedgehog's eyes roll back in ecstasy as he yelped into his palm.
"Tone it down, you slut," the rider shushed, rocking his hips particularly harsh. "You'll wake the whole avenue."
"Let me ride you," he proposed after taking Shadow's digits from his maw.
"Show me what you can do," the black hedgehog rose to sit down on the bike, bringing Sonic along and guiding his tip back in. He advised behind him. "I expect nothing but perfection."
Competitive as he was, Sonic made that his mission. Locking his lustful gaze with Shadow's in the convex mirror like before, the baseball player used the highway pegs for a boost once he started grinding on his lap in circular motions. His heat was soaked and tender, so much it enhanced his drive whenever he rode and caged Shadow's dick in a tight hug.
Sonic raised his arms to interlock his fingers behind the rider's spines, closing his eyes until erotic snarls and languid thrusts became his entire world. Clawed thumbs aroused his pierced, hidden nipples under the jersey, orbiting the titanium beads as the edge of a tongue dragged itself across his shoulder and sweaty neck. Fangs clung into the skin until it bled, but that didn't stop him from bouncing and enticing – going up, then down, side to side, and rewind.
Regarding their indecent reflection on the motorcycle, Sonic increasingly regained his erection at the glimpse of those bony hands on his bosom. Shadow bucked his hips upward quicker than he could counter, whispering depravities into his ear, praising how talented he was at sex, saying how down he would be for barebacking. He talked to an ordinary man he had just met, and the ludicrous idea had Sonic's strained thighs quivering with delight, pre-cum leaking onto the seat absently. Realizing his size had begun to show its downsides, the slugger reduced the hurtle and granted Shadow full control over the act.
"Too much already?" Shadow huffed, apparently shocked. "You disappoint me."
"It's hard for me to take cock. Let alone this thick," he raised one of the stranger's palms to suck on a digit, grinding at his own pace.
"Weren't you stretching yourself for another?" the rider inserted a second finger in, gliding it inside his mouth.
"His isn't like yours, big guy," Sonic stroked the back of his hand with featherlight touches. "And it doesn't get up without a pill and a prayer."
That made Shadow laugh; a vile, delicious rumble from the throat.
"Oh yeah? For a sugar baby, you're vicious. Do you fuck the old man like I fuck you?" he pointed out with a growing sequence of rough thrusts.
"Not like that," Sonic kept up with a deviant smile, achy cock tilting sideways. "You'd put him in the hospital."
"Mhm," Shadow confirmed darkly, clutching his tail in possessiveness. "Whose ass is this then?"
"Y-yours..." the slugger claimed in a sultry tone.
"That's right," he felt a solid grip on his shoulder. "Come. Bounce on my cock while you beat it," the blue hedgehog closed a hand around his shaft at the instant he was choked, bending his legs as they opened wide, uplifted from the seat. The motorbike shifted with them. Shadow kept his thighs in the air, taking charge of the rest. "Yes... spank it. I'm holding you, do it. Harder," with a nudge into the slit every now and then, Sonic pumped his erection in the same rhythm he was being fucked by the other, groaning madly. "Let daddy teach you something," he said huskily, perhaps close to oblivion.
In a rush of adrenaline, Sonic let the stranger pull out and manhandle his body around as if he weighted nothing, hold causing a significant discomfort to his injured side. He didn't have time to protest, although he sensed Shadow must have noticed it hurt, judging by the way he traded his ribs for the jersey, ripping its buttons off to reveal his soft chest and shiny piercings.
The athlete flexed in return, flaunting his outer beauty by sticking his tongue out through a mischievous grin as blue spines spread out in the control panel. The sudden night breeze and being on the spotlight encouraged him to wank it rapidly. He didn't care if somebody saw him now; degraded to a plaything by his own volition. With a peck to dry lips, Shadow picked up his cap and put it on his striped head, aligning his length back into his hole, neglected and hungry, while mounting on the bike for their grand finale.
"Hold the brakes, blue boy," he said at once.
The motorcycle moved and halted after Sonic got the handbrakes above his head, blurting out a wanton moan. On top of the Major League champion, Shadow placed his legs over his shoulders to ram inside until it reached the base, ankles shyly interlocking behind his nape. With shivering limbs and glazed irises, Sonic watched Shadow set a brutal pace and resume their dirty dance, fangs latching on his breasts to lick and suck each bud, nearly tearing a piercing out in avidity.
On the edge, he couldn't hold the brakes for long, not when bare fingertips also snaked under a sock before his knee and inner thigh were treated by that same tongue, its bearer engaged in ravishing his prostate while unaware of the dick pulsating against his temple. Incredibly flexible, Sonic abandoned their safety measure to bite and grope any exposed part of Shadow's body his canines and wandering palms could find, obliging the rider to tower over his form and grip the handlebars himself. He drank every drop of sweat that sprinkled from his torso to peach fur, deranged sobs and a plea for creampie unanswered.
Sonic tried cradling his face into his hands, taking his parted lips with his own, anything to end this torment and have him bask in potent release. Yet, Shadow backed away with a cruel grin, pouting to feign pity and shaking his head at the raunchy hedgehog underneath. For a second, he thought this was it, until the biker ceased moving to crush Sonic's shaft against his abdomen, granting it one last throb of despair.
Only then, after an orgasm crashed over Sonic's system like waves, Shadow positioned his soles firmly on the ground and untangled shaky legs from his shoulders, lowering himself to completely detach from where they bonded with a honeyed squelch. The next thing the athlete registered, they were ardently making out after Shadow discarded his condom, penetrating him raw and unleashing his load inside until it overflowed around the base.
He felt... he didn't know how he felt, more used to consequences than responses.
He just held the stranger as if they were star-crossed lovers. Hoping it would stay in.
And it did, even when Shadow fondled his erupting member to ease its twinge, baring his teeth to direct jets of cum towards pearly white incisors. Soon enough, he allowed them into mouth, triggering its gag reflex with the simple act of slapping the head on the middle of his tongue again and again as it sprayed aftershocks. Overstimulated yet aflame, the sloppy facial puzzled Sonic, although he got his own haze to frame. Using his seed as mouthwash, Shadow spat it all back on the blue hedgehog's muzzle once he was done, eye black smeared at last.
"Wow... you're savory," the rider praised genuinely.
Except being his sink wasn't that amusing. Sonic's reply to that was a headbutt. Shadow grunted in pain, covering his nose involuntarily. It somehow bled to his astonishment. With bristled spines, he punched the athlete in the mouth, paying back in the same coin. Disoriented and subtly content, Sonic ran a hand to his busted lip, dealing with a sticky pond under his tail after Shadow left him to his own devices, legendary cap dumped back onto his head.
"Oops," he massaged his jaw and giggled breathlessly, fangs blood-stained. "Asshole..."
Gaze darting elsewhere, Sonic admired Shadow's ministrations post coitus. He never laid with a man like that in his life, so reserved and cold and unpredictable, though he wouldn't say he disliked the experience. The black hedgehog retrieved and casted Sonic's gloves on the seat, creasing one of his own to wipe himself off. He waited for his dick to retreat into its sheath to zip his racing suit up, kicking away a stack of blue, black and red quills on the ground. Resting his eyes in the afterglow, Sonic inhaled the stranger's musk once he drew closer, typing on his work phone while preparing for a smoke.
He listened to the insistent flick of a lighter until it got hurled into some garbage can.
"Yo! You okay, man?" the athlete checked warily, raising an eye ridge at Shadow's back.
His concern was ignored.
"Clean yourself up and get out. I'll park at the gas station to fill the tank and get a lighter. You drink beer, hedgehog?"
"As long as you're buying," Sonic weighted his options, plainly cornered. "It's not like I'm going anywhere without you, Mr. Unsmiley."
At the gas station, Sonic lazed with outspread legs on a soft cushion of folded toilet papers over the curb. His bat laid on the asphalt, grimed and profaned. On his way to exit a convenience store, Shadow gargled through a mouthful of beer, expelling the liquid onto the fuel-scented concrete. He approached the slugger with a six pack, handing over a cold one.
"A baseball bat and not a single ball in sight," Shadow scoffed. "Your coach trained an amateur."
"I got two right here," Sonic accepted the beverage, feeling his crotch shamelessly.
"I should've hit them when I had the chance."
There was a pause. After the first sip, he was presented with something colder and an empathetic smile.
An ice bag for his ribs. What a gentleman.
Flashbacks of a famous ice slicer throwing a tantrum on the rink plagued him. He had to bury the memory underground before it escaped.
Shadow cracked open another can, searching for his eyes under the cap.
"Are you a hooker?"
Sonic slowly gazed upwards, thick eyelashes obscuring his irises.
"The fuck you mean a 'hooker'?" the black hedgehog didn't falter. "I'm a baseball player."
"Really? And I'm an Olympic surfer," he didn't sound very convinced.
"I'm Sonic, the slugger! It's written on your stupid app," Sonic gestured to the motorcycle he left refueling, then at his own chest. "And in here if you hadn't turned my jersey into a rag."
"A heavy hitter? Ha!" Shadow disregarded his fit of temper. "Why did you ask for a motorbike ride then? Aren't you rich?"
"Look, it's complicated," the athlete sighed in defeat, waving a hand dismissively. "You know what? Fuck the chateau. How much do I owe ya?"
"You chose credit," he stated, attending to his vehicle.
"Shit!" Sonic's trembly fingers got him drinking before he committed an act of vandalism. "It's my sponsor's fault, that old, slimy rat. Son of a–"
"Blackmail?" he heard Shadow light up a cigarette.
At a gas station.
"...I wish," he downed the beer in one gulp, crushing and tossing the can into the nearest trash bin. "A lawsuit. Millionaire. There's this ice hockey player I–"
"Feh. This is none of my business..." he didn't know why bringing up Jet in the conversation was even a considered idea. He was glad the stranger found it a waste of time, having a seat next to him. "Want another?" Shadow asked behind a curtain of smoke, prompting him to grab the brew.
"Thanks," Sonic decided to change the subject, focusing on the here and now. "It's great not to be known for a change," he snorted, unused to anonymity. "I missed that."
"Fucking strangers?" the rider smirked. Their shoulders bumped.
"Heh. I didn't have that much growing up," Sonic winked, fond of such inquiry. "I had a girlfriend. All-Star Amy from Women's League," they drank and smoked for an instant. "We broke up last year. It was all over the news."
"Never heard about you bunch."
"Don't you watch TV?" Sonic laughed, entertained rather than offended. "Whatever. I'm just a guy who loves baseball. Fame however... we walk hand in hand."
"How old are you anyway?" Shadow took a puff of his cigarette.
"Twenty-three," the slugger beamed coyly. "Can I have a drag?"
"Still young," he shared the vice.
"Let me guess: you're forty?" Sonic exhaled the smoke afterwards, forming an indistinct shape.
"Thirty-nine," the black hedgehog saw a halo among the tobacco clouds. "I'm forty on Sunday."
"Still young," he echoed.
They finished the pack in mutual serenity. The ice bag relieved most of the stinging on his torso, and for that Sonic was grateful. He enjoyed talking with Shadow, even if he posed as a mystery of man. Observing him stand up to walk towards his motorbike, the athlete didn't question how he could work after alcohol ingestion. He imagined he would contact a friend to drive him home, but his inclination to ride alone in the dark after three beers said otherwise.
Shadow was lucky he wasn't a police officer.
"Where are you going?"
"You were my last ride," he got on the seat, dried and perfumed. "I have to pick up my partner at her club now."
"Wait, you have a wife?!" his jaw slacked. "Dude, you came in me."
"She's not exactly my wife," Shadow chuckled at the misunderstanding. "We just do what we did, Sonic."
"That explains the condoms..." he scratched an ear in thinking. "Lucky one. So, you're gonna leave me here?"
"I'm headed to Night Babylon."
Sonic let out a heavy sigh. He wasn't welcomed in Babylon Garden.
"Can you take me to the beach?" his big eyes made it hard to refuse.
"...Hop on."
He must have taken a nap on the trip, curled up on Shadow's lap while snoring into his uniform. When or how exactly, Sonic had no clue. Once they parked in the outskirts of Emerald Beach, he was roused from slumber by waves crashing against the shore. He couldn't understand how that peaceful sound jolted him awake so fast. Truth is, Sonic didn't want to run towards the final base just yet.
But he had to reach the home plate at some point.
Thus, he let the game resume. The athlete used his bat as a cane, inclining his fragile side on it while lounging beside the motorcycle, distant eyes fixated on the night sky and its twinkling lights. Shadow didn't criticize the scenery, despite exuding an uptight posture as they stargazed. Neither said a word. Neither cared to move. Nature a gift to kind and lost souls.
Sonic wondered if Jet ever stargazed. He once read an interview about the hawk's ritual of wishing victory upon a shooting star before the Winter Olympic games. He never gave sports magazines much credit, finding out the hard way that he should have.
"It's beautiful here at night," he declared in reverence.
"They shine the brightest when no one is looking."
To his surprise, Shadow had his eyes on him rather than the stars.
"You bruise easily, hedgehog," the stranger's gloved fingers studied the hickey on his neck, evidence of his claim, traveling down his bosom to subtly circle a marked nipple. "A shame."
Sonic's breath hitched. His face tinged with warmth.
"Well, we got into a fight, didn't we?" he played it cool.
"And I won," Shadow examined the long, dark bruise on his ribs. A whole galaxy in flesh.
Sonic chortled lowly. He wouldn't mind being fucked again on the beach until sunrise, but he knew Shadow had other plans. For the first time, his presence felt awkward. He noticed the black hedgehog check something on his phone – it was past 3 A.M. already.
He had to go.
"Uh, how can I thank you for the–?"
"Don't bother," Shadow inspected the road's minor activity. "You owe me nothing."
"No way! We could grab a coffee since your birthday is coming," Sonic insisted, resorting to a casual invitation. "Got a private number at least? In case you change your mind," then he shot it. "Or want company."
"No, I..." Shadow faced him with a hint of vexation. "I've never fucked a man. You're the first one I gave it a try with."
Sonic frowned in skepticism, linking the dots together. He wasn't being lied to. In fact, that made a lot of sense and put a few things into perspective.
"I-I'm your first?" he tried not to sound doubtful, failing miserably. "You gotta be fucking kidding me..." hiding a smile behind his palm, he teased. "What are you, metrosexual?"
"It was a good fuck, but not something I'd like to repeat," Shadow crossed his arms, leaning forward to rest them over the handlebars. "My first and my last..." he scrutinized his thrashed form. "You're my one and only, Sonic. You should be proud," and it ended with a patronizing wink.
"I guess this is goodbye, then," Sonic concluded.
Shadow didn't respond, glancing at the blue hedgehog's lips astutely. He towered over the rider, casting a shadow of both uncertainty and comprehension. Sonic's lips on his stayed longer than they should, noses brushing at an uncomfortable angle as if they were partaking in the act from divergent worlds, restricted to frozen landscapes and drifting dreams. After several seconds, Shadow cocked his head to the side, trying to part Sonic's mouth with his tongue and doing so in vain. The athlete pecked its tip shortly, then left it yearning.
"I can still feel you inside," he whispered against Shadow's tan fur.
"So get in the water and wash," his frustration was striking.
"I can't swim. Will you dive with me?"
He thought he saw Shadow's lower lip quiver at first. It was imperceptible to the untrained eye.
"You stink," the stranger recovered quickly.
"I could've taken your virginity back there," he blatantly eyed Shadow's rear on the seat. "You've never done anal, right?"
Shadow chuckled overtly, sharp fangs alerting to the absurdity of those words.
"I'm not interested," he turned down politely. "But you could try to pursue me... in another life," and started the engine.
Sonic landed a playful slap on his face. No big deal. Their adventure ended in a respectful handshake.
"I didn't catch your name," he recalled.
"It's written on the stupid app," the moto-taxi rider copied his line from earlier. "And in here," after pointing to his heart, where 'Shadow' was embroidered on the racing suit, he introduced himself. "I'm Shadow the Hedgehog," and threw the infamous anal plug back at Sonic, who caught it in one hand. "Give me five stars."
Hold on. That was his name the whole time?
"I should get you a ticket for my next game, Shadow. I'm Major League, y'know?"
"I'm not like you," fixing his head spines, he clarified through a veiled insult. "I don't do transactional, even if it's convenient," but that didn't mean he wouldn't show up.
"See you around, surfer," Sonic tipped his baseball cap in adieu.
"Summer Olympics, 2001," Shadow did the shaka sign and rode away to Central City.
Kind of bemused, the blue hedgehog watched his departure until the motorcycle was out of sight. Treading over the strip of sand, he typed the event, year and Shadow's name on his phone's search bar. He gasped at the loading results, which were many. The motherfucker was an Olympic surfer – a gold medalist and record-breaker at that.
He made history. How come he never heard about him?
They shine the brightest when no one is looking.
"Shadow..." he mouthed.
Honestly, Sonic had to be younger, so it was understandable since he never cared about surfing or... water. In another article, it was presumed Shadow retired after his sister, a renowned archeologist, died under strange circumstances during an expedition. News speculated homicide by drowning. Morbid. As an Olympic medalist, Shadow was last photographed with linebacker Omega of the RFL, igniting rumors of sexual involvement with the team's cheerleader, Rouge the Bat.
The athlete declined Clutch's incoming call.
Shadow the Hedgehog. He would remember his name for years to come.
With newfound resolve, Sonic buried the expensive sex toy in the sand, stomping on the ridge. He released the breath he didn't know he was holding, overloaded by a whirlwind of information and conflicting emotions. Just like that, Shadow had trusted him with his past and present. Maybe they were even now.
Maybe...
He should pay his brother a visit. His laboratory wasn't so far.
The sun would be rising anyway.
Author's Note 2: It's my birthday, but the gift is yours! If you enjoyed this work, don't forget to review with your favorite moments. Your appreciation motivates me to write more! This is a subplot to the main series that I'm particularly fond of. In this story, the theme songs of Moto-Taxi Rider Shadow and Slugger Sonic are, respectively, Acceler8 by Deaf Election and the UK radio edit version of Andy Van's remix for Your Body by Tom Navy. As for the motorcycle ride, Mágico by Marina Sena definitely would be playing on the background.
You can message me on Tumblr (self-titled blog) or on Twitter (sugarcunty) if you want to know more about my thoughts on these characters or just talk to me in private. XOXO, galsgeneration.
