Archive of Our Own ^beta

Frustration was a common feeling to have when you were the smartest man in the universe and said universe decided to only surround you with the lowest of the low. Something could be said that as the smartest being, you could have gone anywhere, been anything, and settling for the US army was a fool’s errand, but Doctor Robotnik knew better. 

Have you seen the Army budget? Making

his toys was easy. 

Taking orders? Not so much. 

Things did get a little easier with the introduction of Agent Stone, but even Robotnik couldn’t completely hide behind Stone and send his peon to every meeting and presentation. No, they insisted on seeing the “man behind the work” as if their eyes were entitled to view him. 

Interruptions in his work were worse, like this ridiculous trip the Government was sending him on to Montanna. So the power had gone out, big deal, it was nothing, just a blip or a hoo-ha or a minor league problem way out of Robotnik’s league. 

Until the footprint. 

“Just imagine it Stone,” Robotnik said as Stone secured the overtly cheap motel room they were staying together in. “Discovering a new species, getting to pick a name, and a genus, and show the world another amazing discovery by Doctor Ivo Robotnik.”

Stone smiled, “It would be something, Doctor. The fools in Washington would have no choice but to acknowledge all aspects of your genius.”

Robotnik pulled a face and took a chair at the flimsy desk opposite the single bed. “Their brains would explode if they even tried.”

That made Stone laugh, and it was music to Robotnik’s ears after an irritating day of locals and idiots. His cheek still hurt where that buffoon had deemed it appropriate to punch him, and he still had a bubbling anger that Stone and his merry band of followers had let them get away. Not for long, he would find them, but the loss still smarted. 

Stone left the room momentarily and came back with some ice. He perched on the desk next to Robotnik and wrapped a fistful of ice in a clean shirt, before gently applying it to the Doctor’s face. 

“You don’t need to baby me, Agent.” Robotnik complained, “My face has taken a worse beating.”

“Fractured orbital bone, I know,” Stone replied calmly, refusing to move the ice. “Someone should have done this back then as well. Now I’m here, I can.”

Robotnik muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t pull away. The ice was uncomfortable and cold, but if he let Stone have his moment then he could do as he wished afterward. Plus, it felt nice to have a reminder they were still close after nearly breaking his Agent’s teeth with how hard he had grabbed him. 

“Does your jaw still ache?” Robotnik asked casually after a few beats of silence between them as Stone pulled the iced shirt back to gently check Robotnik’s face. 

“My jaw?” Stone frowned, glancing at Robotnik over the top of the ice. “My jaw is fine.”

“You don’t have to pretend I didn’t hurt you before, Stone.” Robotnik said, “You never have before.”

Stone turned pink as he realised what Robotnik was referencing, and murmured something as he put the ice back, something Robotnik didn’t quite hear. 

“Speak up Agent, we’ve talked about the mumbling.”

“I enjoyed it.” Stone repeated, “I’m not opposed to how you grabbed my jaw, Doctor. We’ve…had conversations about how I enjoy being manhandled and well…that was manhandling.”

There was another beat of silence before Robotnik laughed loudly - and winced at how it hurt his face. “Ah Stone, you and your kinks. How could I have forgotten?”

The comment turned Stone a darker shade of embarrassed, and he looked away as he removed the ice and went to dump it in the bathroom sink. Robotnik stretched as he did, and rummaged in the overnight bag Stone had brought in for some comfier clothes to sleep in.  He tossed the bag into the bathroom when he was done and knew Stone had automatically caught it without looking. The bed was less than ideal, but it was what they had, so he settled into it with a tablet and began to type up his theories and thoughts on the creature they were chasing. 

Stone came from the bathroom in a shirt and underwear and took up a smaller spot by Robotnik’s feet, also on a tablet, more than likely typing up his reports for this mission. They sat in comfortable silence for about an hour until Stone noticed Robotnik yawning and stood to flick the light off. 

“Tomorrow is a new day, Doctor. A day we will catch this creature.”

“Enough work babble.” Robotnik ordered, shifting over, “Come here.”

It was unspoken between them, exactly as it had to be, but it was there. They found comfort and excitement in each other and that was all that mattered. Stone settled into bed with Robotnik whenever the genius slept, and occasionally Robotnik would come and lie next to a sleeping Stone when he needed a break. It was what it was, just the comfort of a relationship that held no expectations, and it was exactly what they both needed. 

Robotnik always slept best with Stone at his side, but tonight he could not get the thought of Stone’s admission to liking his hands in his mouth out of his head. 

The possessiveness it caused may have been the reason why he tossed that local through a window for deigning to insult or even touch Stone with a simple photograph. Or why he had Stone pin himself to the wall so he could utter disparaging words when the creature once again evade him, and he knew Stone wouldn’t complain. He liked the displays of strength, the protective possessiveness and the little acts that seemed like Robotnik throwing a tantrum that were actually displays of his feelings for Stone. 

This closeness was foreign and weird to him, but Robotnik knew he wouldn’t have it any other way, or any other person by his side in the fight to capture this creature, or take over the world. 

Stone saw him in all ways, including at his most vulnerable and most embarrassing moments. 

Like dancing. 

Dancing was a catharsis for Robotnik and he needed it when he both succeeded and failed. The creature and the buffoon may have escaped him, but he had the image of Stone pinned against a wall in his head, a knowledge of where the idiots were going, and a barrage of machines narrowing down the elusive power this “hedgehog” seemed to hold.  

While those machines worked, he danced. 

It was always a full spectacle, and yet when Stone entered the fray it usually stopped, but not this time. 

Well, temporarily as Robotnik screamed in shock at the interruption, yelled that he of course wanted a latte, Stone was a genius at making them, and then downed the hot drink in nearly one go. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the music was back on, and Stone stood for a few moments watching as Robotnik got back into the groove. 

Smirking, Robotnik spun over to Stone and grabbed his hands. 

“Dance with me, Stone!” He ordered, pulling Stone closer, “No excuses.”

“I wouldn’t have any anyway,” Stone said softly, sliding his hands so he was holding Robotnik’s properly. 

The dancing was energetic and loud, while also being intimate enough that their bodies stayed pressed together. Stone let his head rest against Robotnik’s shoulder whenever he had the chance, feet expertly keeping up and twirling when Robotnik wanted him to. 

He rarely got to dance with the Doctor, and when he did they usually had to cut it short for something, but this time they could just enjoy it and go for a spin. 

An actual spin it seemed too, as Robotnik grabbed Stone’s hands and began to pivot, spinning them in circles with their eyes locked, an unreadable expression on his face. Stone couldn’t help a loud laugh as they began, exhilarated by the Doctor’s enthusiasm. 

Just when the spinning was starting to get too much to the edge of nausea instead of entertainment, Stone’s back hit the wall of the lab and Robotnik’s body hit him. 

Pinned. 

Breathing heavy.

Hands still clasped by the Doctor as their eyes met and Stone felt a rush down his spine. 

“A little birdie told me you liked this.” Robotnik murmured, as one hand snaked up to slip between Stone’s teeth. He yanked Stone’s head to the side by the jaw and Stone’s breath caught in his lungs. 

“My naughty, naughty Agent.” 

Lips touched Stone’s neck and his eyes closed. Dancing was another catalyst for a different type of closeness, and if this new creature could cause enough frustration in the Doctor to start a dancing make-out session, Stone hoped they never, ever caught it.