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The emerald glints in his paw. Sonic holds it up, let's the moonlight spread through its corners. He lays on his back over the biplane's left wing, an arm tucked under his head, acting as a pillow.
They emerald had been an easy enough find. They'd figured, might as well get it before Eggman did. It was a bit boring how uneventful fetching it had been. But, hey, better this than another near world-destructing calamity.
He glances at the plane's occupants. In the pilot’s seat: Tails sitting back, relaxed, letting the Tornado continue on autopilot mode seeing as it's a continuous straight line home. In the seat behind Tails: Amy, her fingers brushing back her quills fluttering in the wind and tickling her cheek. Every time Sonic looks over at his girlfriend, she's always looking somewhere. At the starry sky; at clouds; at gulls banking near the plane; at mountains, towns, cities.
He knows, once they get her home, she'll crash in bed hard. Whose bed is she using later, he hasn't gotten around to asking her that. They're still hours away from getting home; no need to figure it out just yet.
Lately, he'd been sleeping in her bed at her house more often, and her in his bed if she's staying over for a few days. It's a new thing they're getting used to. An odd living arrangement due to Sonic’s inability to stick to one spot. And while Tails is responsible enough to be left home alone for long periods, it's not exactly right for Sonic to leave his little brother alone too often because Sonic has a girlfriend now keeping him on his toes (not that she hadn't been before.)
Amy staying over conveniently solves that issue, even if she often scolds him over the contents of their fridge consisting mostly of soda cans, packaged meat, canned beans, and microwave ready-to-eats, especially when both brothers know how to cook basic things.
Before she'd sort-of moved in, Sonic and Tails shared a room. Their plain, bare-bones beds set just a few feet away from each other. Sonic's bed was technically a bit too small for him, meant for a smaller species, and the mattress' protective cover not strong enough to withstand scratchy hedgehog quills. They'd gotten those beds when they were little. But ever since Tails became more independent, not needing Sonic there every single night, Sonic began sleeping in his own bed so infrequently that he forgot he even had it sometimes. The couch worked just fine, and was closer to the kitchen and the front door.
But then Amy and him became a thing. She'd started staying a few nights. He'd give her his bed and he'd have the couch, or they'd both take the couch, because his bed wasn't built for an adult hedgehog, let alone two, and that said bed was still in the same room his little brother slept in too. While Tails was being a good sport in all this, and Amy said she liked cuddling with Sonic on the couch than Sonic's bed anyway, it just didn't feel fair to Tails and Amy. They hadn't planned this arrangement, but it happened, and they had to make it work somehow.
They cleared out the attic. For the first time in his life, Sonic had a bedroom separate from Tails. He wasn't sure how Tails would handle this change, only for Tails to bluntly remind him that Sonic hardly ever used his bed to begin with when they'd shared a room. He had a point.
The new bed, while still as minimalist as his old one, was at least wide enough for two adult hedgehogs, even if a limb or two dangled, and Amy accidentally pushed him out of it twice. It worked well enough. Having sex on it was, uh, not the most ideal. It was right above Tails' bedroom, and the frames would hit the walls the bed was up against. Unless they timed it right when the youngster of the house wasn't home, or he was using noisy tools in his workshop garage, Amy and Sonic would have to be quiet.
Hedgehogs are never quiet. And foxes have big ears. It's a problem.
Even when they'd be sure the kid was out, they'd be in the cusp of it—huffing and cussing and straining and begging—and they'd hear the front door, and the jingle of Tails' house and plane keys, and Tails calling up to them, asking if they're home, if he should order take out for everybody, and in those frustrating moments where Sonic's fingers would still be all up in Amy's business, the only thing Sonic could think to do is cup his free paw over her mouth and work the gratifying scream out of her and hope to Gaia he'd muffled her enough that Tails could mistake the noise for Amy laughing.
So, yeah. Not the best scenario, but they were working with what they got.
He liked having Amy around. She'd stay for a bit, but would remain mindful that it wasn't her house, that she was a guest. The three of them got along well enough anyway, so having her in the house more often didn't seem to bother Tails at all. The kid's friendly to begin with, so he didn't mind all the bear-hugs Amy dished out. Not to mention the little bastard told Sonic to his face that it's a relief to have somebody else around who doesn't overcook everything.
Yes, Sonic's thoughts have been more horny lately. Sue him.
Sonic gets pulled out of his head when Tails exclaims, "Oh, look, guys! Down there!"
Sonic tucks the emerald into his quills, scoots to the edge of the plane's wing, and peeks over. On the ground, surrounded by many hills and green forest mountains, a mobian village has all of its lights still on. A traveling carnival has set up near it with a theater stage and game stands and greasy foods. Artificial lights shine purple and yellow.
"Hey, a party," Sonic exclaims, propping his face up with his paw.
"Looks like a carnival!" says Tails, excited.
"Wanna check it out? Didn't really get much action getting this emerald."
"I'm in!"
"Sure!" says Amy. "I'm down for it. Need to stretch my back, anyway."
They haven't gone on a relaxing, worry-free amusement park in a while. Not one that didn't eventually get interrupted by one incident or another. Not that said incidents weren't sometimes fun, either—they were. But it can get old real fast. Most amusement park rides can't hold a candle to the daredevil things they do being a constant pain in Eggman's behind. Even on roller coasters advertised as most intense, Sonic would sit back and prop his legs up on the cart's front like it's hardly anything to him.
The rides at this carnival aren't his style. The big rides are slow rides. It's the multiplayer game stands where him, Tails, and Amy get a few laughs. His competitiveness is dangerously contagious. A little tease here and there is all he needs to get them on board for a target shooting game with toy water guns and timed basketball toss. Whatever toys they won, they gave away to whoever had children. They didn't exactly come here for toys they'd need to find space for on the plane. Might as well hand them over to kids who'd actually play with them.
During a round of mini golf with with a glow-in-the-dark ball and club, the curved obstacle courses edges and décor all LED lit, Sonic props his club head-side-up to lean his paws against, watching Tails focus, hit the ball, score a hole, and Amy gleefully cheering out and giving Tails a high-five.
Sonic snickers. He forgets how… normal everything still is. Sonic and Amy had only started dating for a few months, after she'd gotten back from the trip around the world she'd go off to after Starfall Islands. They'd already been flirting on and off before that, just playing around, so their friends hadn't clocked anything new might've happened when things got serious. They hadn't batted any eyes when she'd peck him on the cheek—she did that to many people, kiss them on the cheek. Nothing unusual. She calls him, and many of her friends, 'sweetie'. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. He gives her flowers, had been doing so since they were little. Nothing new. The little flirty banters; everyone's used to seeing them do that. Frankly, Sonic's infatuation with Amy was kind of an open secret. Everybody would just watch and smirk or roll their eyes at how long it's been going on for.
Eventually, when all their friends threw him a birthday party, with sweets and gift boxes prepared on the table and silly party hats askew on their heads (or, in Sonic's case, covering one ear), Amy had pecked him on the lips after he'd received her gift box.
He'd heard somebody snort like they were trying very hard not to laugh. The expressions on his friends' faces: some blinking in mild surprise, others watching with mischievous eagerness, like they were expecting him to realize what happened and crumble. When he didn't, and sincerely asked, "What? Is there something on my face?" because him and Amy truly forgot they never actually made it public, everyone stared at him, then at each other, checking if, perhaps, everybody else knew, only to find that, no, nobody else did.
"What?" he'd asked in mild discomfort, chuckling awkwardly, looking over at Amy and finding her just as confused as he was why some were looking at her like she'd grown a second head.
Knuckles picked his jaw off the table and suddenly asked, "When the heck did this happen?!" His outburst made Rouge choke on her drink, turn away and wheeze. Tails looked like his brain had blue-screened.
Long story short: him and Amy had a lot of explaining to do that day. Apparently they'd always behaved like this—flirty and all over each other—that nobody had noticed anything had changed until that kiss on the lips.
***
The carnival's outdoor theater set is multi-functional. After a few acrobatic performances, stage plays, and a music performance, at midnight, the curtains part further, and a projection screen lights the backstage wall. An adventure-comedy film starts playing. In front of the stage, the open space of trimmed green grass is dappled with mobians laying on the floor to watch, sitting on the bare grass, or unfolding picnic blankets to sit on.
Amy, Sonic, and Tails sit at the far back. Tails' nibbling on a fried twisted potato on a stick, his open soda can on the grass by Amy's and Sonic's empty ones. The three had finished their individual steak kabobs. They'd stuffed the papers that used to be wrapped around Amy and Tails' ice cream crepe cones and Sonic's chili dogs. Amy at least keeps her burps polity muffled whereas Sonic unashamedly unleashes noisy ones.
"Eww!" Tails snickers. Amy giving Sonic a scolding, half-hearted shove Sonic laughs off.
Fifteen minutes into the film, Amy stands up, and brushes grass stains off of her dress. "Need to use the outhouse. Tell me what I miss."
"Okay, Amy," Tails says without looking away from the screen.
Amy bends down to give Sonic a peck on the cheek. "Be back in a bit."
He feels her sneakily reach behind him, grip his tail at the base, and give it a quick tug. He grits his teeth, withholds a grunt. The grin he gives her comes off twitchy, looking more like a cringe. He knows what she's doing, knows what she's telling him with this brash, lewd gesture.
She smiles innocently before trotting off like she didn't just literally pull on his tail. She might as well have smacked his ass; Gaia knows she'd given him enough of those that stung him good. She's toying with him. She's messing with his head in the most diabolical way. The last time she'd grabbed at his tail like that, he'd been at her cottage, and she'd had him bent over the armrest of her couch, her strap-on secured tightly around her waist, the crescent shaped silicon sticking out from under her dress. He'll never get over how the sound of her pelvis thudding against his back end and her calling him a good boy had him unravel over the towel draped over her couch. She knows she just gave him a flashback to that afternoon she'd left his ass tender because holy shit that had been a fun ride but he'd had to tell everybody asking about his limping that he'd only pulled a hamstring.
They're in public right now, in the middle of a crowd. He's lucky his pink member hadn't pushed out of its sheath with that evil tail-grab tease of hers. She must really be in the mood if she's this daring.
He waits ten minutes, enough time to make his excuse to Tails believable: "Amy's taking a while. Gonna go check on her." He stands, stretches his back, then his legs. His eyes search the dim, hilly field, and spots a glimpse of pink, triangle ears up the farthest hill too far for anybody else to sit down and watch the film from. "Need anything, just give me a call."
"You're gonna go hang out with Amy?" Tails casually asks.
Sonic sputters. He tries not to look like he was caught red handed robbing a bank. "Wha— I, no? You never got stuck in a bathroom with no working bidet or any toilet paper before?" He catches Tails giving him a sly look. "And what's that look supposed to mean?" Sonic hisses, now aware some people are turning their way to shush him.
Tails giggles lightly. "It's fine. You guys don't need to make stuff up to go make out somewhere. I can handle myself. I don't mind."
Sonic opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He shuts it with a clap. What's he supposed to say here? No, they're not going to go off to make out? It's not that it wouldn't be a lie, it's that maybe it's best to make Tails believe kissing is all Sonic and Amy do. Right. Sonic may have given Tails the basics of the Birds and the Bees talk (Sonic's not looking forward to when Tails would start asking more specific questions in the future), but the idea that Tails' big brother and sweet Amy might be doing a lot more than kissing probably doesn't cross his mind, the same way nobody just randomly assumes their parents are banging every time the master bedroom door is closed.
Sonic clears his throat. "I did not tell you that. And don't tell Amy I told you that; she'll kill me."
Tails snickers. "It's not hard framing you for things. Amy gets so mad at you."
"I knew it! I knew you've been doing it on purpose!"
Tails, the evil little kit, figured out that despite Amy's infatuation with Sonic, she'll always side with Tails. She loves kids, and Tails' a cute one, so whenever Tails is upset or moody or just being a mischievous dick, feigning that Sonic wronged him in some way, it never fails to get Amy fretting over the fox, grabbing his face all sweetly, asking what's wrong, then accusingly glaring at Sonic and harshly asking, "What did you do?" Sonic will never not feel panic whenever that happens.
Sonic ruffles the fur between Tails' ears roughly. "Cheeky little fox."
Tails laughs, swats away Sonic's paw.
Sonic weaves past all the mobians scattered over the field. Once he gets past the crowd, he sprints up the remote hill overlooking the theater.
Amy has made herself comfortable, laying belly-down, her arms crossed to use as a chin rest. She can see the theater stage from up here.
"Took your time," she says, her voice neutral, before asking in a more careful tone, "Everything okay with Tails?"
She'd told Sonic before that she'd worried Tails might start feeling left behind, even when Sonic reassured her there's nothing to worry about. Sonic knows Tails is made of strong stuff. Amy's a bit of a worrywart sometimes, but Sonic can see her reasoning. Their friend group is mostly made of orphans. They'd grown up wild. Tails is one of the youngest of their friends. Sonic had raised him when he himself had been a kid. Tails is his friend, his buddy. But also his little brother. Sonic had been Tails' pillar since they'd been children. He'd been in Tails' life longer than Tails had been by himself. It's understandable Amy doesn't want to rock the boat, now that things with Sonic and her are intertwined a bit tighter. She'd gone from being that friend Tails saw often, to his big brother's girlfriend who sometimes stays over in the attic. It's a none issue, though, from what Sonic could see. Sonic is Tails' adoptive brother, not his dad. That'd be weird. Adapting to your big brother having a new girlfriend is significantly easier—and mercifully less awkward—than adapting to your dad having a new girlfriend.
"Yeah," says Sonic. "It's all good. He thinks we're sneaking off to make out. I didn't tell him that—that's all him," Sonic quickly clarifies.
Amy sighs. "Should've figured Tails would suspect something. I guess what he came up with is fine. It's not entirely wrong. Was he upset or anything? I don't want him to think we're ignoring him..."
"He's fine, Amy, I promise," Sonic firmly insists. "He was just laughing about it down there a minute ago." He then grumbles, "And gloating about weaponizing the puppy dog eyes to sic you at me."
"Tails has never done anything wrong in his life. He's a thoughtful little angel and you should be nicer," Amy declares with exaggerated haughtiness, playing around with him.
"Never done—? I have stories of every evil little deed he's done. The list is longer than Eggman's nose hairs."
"And here I was looking forward to spending some romantic time with you, and you go and mention Eggman's nose hairs."
Sonic snorts. "What, that turn you off that bad? Guess I can't blame ya; anything about the guy's a mood-killer. Oh, hey, I think I figured out another safe-word!"
"Sonic the Hedgehog, mention Eggman when I'm doing you, and I swear I'll leave you tied up and walk away."
"…Was that supposed to be a threat I shouldn't want, or…?"
"Sonic."
He snickers. "Joking, joking… Mostly."
She sighs, exasperated. "So much for a romantic few minutes tonight."
He softly smiles at her not-so-subtle indications. She's horny, that much she's let on with that tail-pull she'd done. She's not outright begging, so she's not in the mood for something too wild. When things had become serious between them, the topic of sex hadn't been addressed initially. He knew she knew he was on the asexual spectrum. She had her own adult toys to satisfy herself with.
Sonic was aware that people tended to lump everyone on the spectrum together, or mistake sexual attraction with libido, or get very confused about asexuals who have sex. He didn't know where on the spectrum Amy speculated he was in. It had taken years for him to love her romantically, and then another year or two for him to start imagining her in a way that made him touch himself.
She'd sexually explored with other people before they'd gotten together, back when she'd reluctantly backed off and had admitted to him later that, while she'd been disappointed her dream of being with him might not come true like she'd hoped, being his best friend was just as beautiful.
When him and her actually became a thing, and he surprised her when he suddenly grabbed the buzzing vibrator she'd been rubbing herself with to lend her a hand, neither of them had discussed any past sexual encounters. There was never a situation where it was relevant to bring up. The first time he'd tucked his face between her thighs, trying out what made her shiver, she'd smiled blissfully but told him it's fine, told him he could stop if he wanted, told him, "I know you're not into this stuff."
He'd struggled a little to try and explain how he saw sex. It got easier when she mentioned how she handled sex, because he then had something to compare with. He couldn't see himself being sexual with a stranger; she could. She'd had two flings in the past. Nobody he knew. A male hedgehog, and a non-binary canary. Sonic and Rouge were apparently the only ones she'd told about this; Amy admitted she had worried how her friends—and the general public who were always needlessly critical of her since she'd been a kid—would think of her despite her not doing anything wrong. It made him angry to hear how the disrespect from people who didn't even know her made her so insecure. He couldn't figure out how to feel about her past relationships; she hadn't given him enough details for him to formulate an opinion other than that he hoped they better have treated her right.
He didn't have sexual experience like her. It was a bit funny to descover they were both bottoms and a bit kinky. One would think this wouldn't work well. Turns out, you know what a bottom wants when you yourself are one.
He'd had his turn getting railed on her couch the last time he'd stayed over at her place. Looking at her now, relaxing belly-down on the floor, the tip of her tail peaking out the end of her skirt, it's clear it's her turn for a little pampering.
Her ears twitch when he gets behind her, hovering over her on parted knees and paws. He pushes a cute, startled squeak out of her when he plops himself over her, laying on top of her.
"Don't worry, I gotcha," he teases.
She laughs lightly. "Thought you weren't gonna catch on."
"You kidding? After that stunt you pulled earlier? Come on, Ames, have a little more faith in me." He rubs his muzzle over her bare back, then plants slow kisses against the nape of her neck, just below her head quills. One of his favorite things about her red dress is the fact it's backless.
She hums contently. One of his paws starts caressing her cheek and the underside of her jaw. She tilts her head to get more of his touch. Her own paw weakly touches his arm. Her ears fold to the sides, the tips blushing. "Thank Chaos," she whispers. "I thought I'd go crazy if even that wasn't enough of a hint."
He chuckles, his mouth pressing against the back of her neck. "That was a dirty little trick, I'll give you that." He moves his hips just a little, starts rubbing his pelvis over her rear, her skirt in the way. He's not fully erect down there; just his tip is sticking out. "Gonna need a minute or two," he murmurs apologetically.
She lets out a deep, wobbly exhale, the weight of him on her doing things to her head. "Not like I'm going anywhere."
That gets a tiny chuckle out of him. Slipping his free paw between their pressed bodies, he tugs up at the lower part of her dress, pulling her skirt up just enough to reveal the rest of her tail. Unlike humans, who are usually culturally strict about covering certain body parts, clothing is optional for most mobians cultures. However, he can't deny there's something aesthetically pleasing about hiking up his girlfriend's skirt.
Continuing to rub himself against her, her tail trapped between his pelvis and her lower back, his breaths sounding rugged. She whimpers in response, the toes of her boots digging at the ground in a feeble attempt to lift her hips, maybe angle herself so he'd grind against her needy spot instead of her ass. Her boots keep slipping over the grass.
They're both stubborn, but it's his turn to tease her. He pushes his hip down against her wriggling lower half, keeping her firmly flat against the ground. With a frustrated whine, she buries her face in her folded arms, and Sonic hears her left boot weakly kick at the ground twice: two thuds, and the feel of her body jolting twice beneath him. He needs to play his cards right; she'll get angry if he frustrates her like this for too long.
He moves his leg and presses his shoe against the back of her heel, pinning her thrashing leg. "Easy, there," he soothes. "Easy. Just relax." His pelvis rolls up against her harder for emphasis. Her trapped leg pathetically quivers under his.
Running a paw up her back, he slips his fingers through the quills at the back of her head. Getting a good grip, gives it a gentle tug. Her body jolts under him with a short yelp, pulling her face lifting out of cover of her arms. He trusts her to call it off if it gets too much. With all of his dry-humping, he's keenly aware the rest of his dick's out. He slides it up and down the fur of her nether region. There's a quiet squelching sound with the motion.
"Got a condom on you?" he asks, his voice low. His usual method of tucking items into his quills would be a disaster waiting to happen if he tried it with a condom packet. If she's not carrying one right now, that's fine; he'd gotten the job done through other means before.
He sees her uncurl one of her fists, lift it, and like a magic trick, with a flick of her fingers—a condom packet's between her middle and pointer fingers. The usefulness of being a hammerspace user. He chuckles at the fact that she has a deadly hammer, her cards, and condoms, of all things, just magically tucked away.
He releases her quills, needing both paws to rip the packet, sitting up to wrap himself. Amy's ears twitch at every little noise behind her. She turns her head just enough so that she's watching him from the corner of her eye, her gaze half-lidded, her relaxed stare partially obscured behind long lashes.
He crawls back over her, cups her cheek, turns her face a fraction, and gives her sweet kiss on the other cheek, an inch away from the corner of her lips. Her eyes flutter, her face warm. She resists closing her eyes, then lets them close in bliss as he works himself into her. He breathes out with a grunt; she sucks air in. Their bodies jostle. His movements push her, sliding her an inch forward over the grass. Her arms unfolded, her paws grip at the weeds for stability; his own paw grabs at the back of one of hers, his fingers clamping down between hers. Hinged-open jaws huff and puff. Her head's angled up, upper fangs glinting; his head's bowed, his face tucked into the side of her warm neck, the short fur on his muzzle getting as ruffled as the rest of him. His weight is still on her; he can hear just how much of her exhales is his doing, his repeated downward motions forcing her to breathe out more sharply.
He pauses for a moment, the both of them breathless, his heart ramming against her back. He runs a paw over the side of her face. She turns her head, presses closer against his palm, lovingly soaking up his attention. He nuzzles their cheeks together. A literal purr clicks in his chest. She does the same, her purrs ending with a higher pitched. He's still bearing his weight down on her, restricting her movement, her breathing, keeping himself firmly inside her.
His purrs dissipate. Amy's ear closest to his face twitches at the faint growl from him. She knows what this means. She doesn't startle or frighten when he suddenly wraps his arms around her lower belly in a secure grip and begins a rougher session. Her whimpery gasps follows every thud of their bodies.
"Fuck!" His voice is muffled against her back. His face crunches in concentration. It's almost a relief for him when he feels her reach beneath her to touch herself. He sacrifices the steadiness of a two-pawed grip so he could free a paw, reach under, push hers out of the way and blindly digs around until he finds that spot she'd once shown him. His gloves protect her from his dull claws.
Thank Chaos it's a high hill and the theater stage's speakers are thunderously loud. Amy has a habit of making high-pitched wailing sounds that dip into silence in-between. At least this time he doesn't need to cup her mouth or for her to press her face into a pillow to muffle herself. Though he doesn't mind seeing her do the latter whenever she ends up needing to do that.
***
In the morning, they make a detour during the flight home. Tails veers plane a little to the right, continues on for another two hours and twenty minutes. Fat, cottony clouds part; the floating island they'd been letting pass through them comes into view. It's as green as it always is. Snow caps its mountains. A humid jungle clusters around the bottom of the tallest mountain. Breezy tropical beaches sparkle with golden sand. The waterfalls that drop off the edges of the island continuously pour water that thins into vapor.
Tails lands the Tornado by one of the island's many lakes. Sonic figured they might as well bother Knuckles sense his island just happens to be passing by. They find the guy sitting on the ground a short distance away from the stone temple stairs leading up to the Master Emerald, a small wooden mug of freshly brewed morning tea in his mitted paws. On the ground with him, a stainless steel kettle, a woven basket of fruits, and a wooden bowl of cooked rice and mushrooms. He's having breakfast.
He doesn't look surprised at all by their arrival. Seeing the smiles on their faces, reassured they didn't come here for an emergency but were just stopping by, Knuckles raises a paw in greeting.
They surround him, the three newcomers getting comfortable on the ground. Knuckles gives Amy a nonchalant nod for her to pour herself and Tails each a mug of tea. She squeezes a wedge of fruit into both for sweetness, and Knuckles knows how she likes her tea well enough that he fishes a twig of herbs out of the basket and hands it to her. She delightfully takes it, pinches the thin leaves out and into her mug, lets them flout and soak and tinge the yellow drink red.
Sonic swipes a red fruit out of Knuckles' basket and boldly positions himself on his back under the shade of a palm tree right in front of Knuckles, showing off the stolen fruit he starts peeling. He throws one leg over his opposite knee and playful bounces his foot, smirking at Knuckles' scowl.
"Hey, Knuckles, can I use your hot spring real quickly?" Amy asks, getting up and dusting grass stains off of her dress, already deciding she's going. "I need a relaxing dip before my muscles lock up. My back's not built for plane seats. No offense to the Tornado, Tails."
Tails meekly scratches the back of his head. "I think it's more of a hedgehog issue, honestly. Sonic doesn't like the seats, either. There's only so much I can do to make them hedgehog friendly without messing up the Tornado's aerodynamic form."
"Eh, not your fault I'm shaped like a hedgehog, dude." Sonic shrugs, spinning the leftover core of the fruit on the tip of his finger. "But for what it's worth, these seats are heck of a lot better than the ones the Tornado came with when I got her."
Sonic shouldn't have brought up the old seats, because Tails says, in a lower, discreet voice, "Sonic still blames the old seats for when he had balloon syndro—"
"Whoa—hey!" Sonic sits up, sputtering, agitated. "We agreed to never bring up the balloon thing!"
Tails' sheepish, apologetic smile does nothing to ease Sonic's embarrassment around the subject. Tails explains, "I'm just clarifying it's a ridiculous notion to insist the seats caused you that when the doctor told you that happens with severe trauma."
"Yeah, the seats were very traumatic on my back! End of discussion."
Knuckles blinks, genuinely confused. "Uh… what balloon thing?"
Amy gives Sonic a sad, sympathetic smile, a paw held over her heart like it hurt her to remember witnessing his ordeal from years ago. "Sonic, there's nothing to be ashamed of. It was a medical emergen—"
"For the love of Chaos—Knux, Amy wants to use your hot spring!" Sonic pointedly reminds, redirecting the topic elsewhere. "Tell her to go use your hot spring!"
Knuckles takes a few seconds to register what was said. "Hm? Oh. Yeah, sure. Go ahead, I guess?" he says unsurely, still thrown off by all… that.
"Thanks, Knuckles!" Amy yells with delight, beginning to speed-walk in the direction of the forest.
Well, speed-walk oddly. It's not as smoothly as she usually walks. There's a subtle hitch to her step that she doesn't acknowledge. It's noticeable enough to her friends. Sonic and Tails had caught it earlier, and while the younger of the brothers had looked concerned about it, the older of the two almost split his lower lip with how hard he was biting down the urge to laugh.
And now, Knuckles catches the strangeness of her gait too. He immediately puts his mug down and starts standing up in a hurry. "Hey, wait, Amy! Are you hurt?" he calls out, eyes suddenly very wide in alarm.
She halts, looks back at him, and tilts her head in perplexation. "What?"
"You're limping. What happened? Are you okay?"
For a second, it looks like she doesn't know what he's talking about. Realization hits her, and her fur and quills reflexively puff up in embarrassment. One of her ears starts twitching furiously. "Nothing!" she claims too quickly. "It's nothing, okay-I'm-going now-thanks-love-you-bye!" She makes a hasty retreat into the forest.
Knuckles stands there with one arm outstretched as though he'd been meaning to reach out to her. He stays put like that for an awkward amount of time. When he looks back at the brothers with the most flabbergasted look on his face, Sonic's biting his lower lip hard, audibly wheezing.
Innocently flicking an ear, Tails fills Knuckles in: "Sonic said Amy's embarrassed she might've pulled a hamstring." He shoots Sonic a disapproving look. "Hey, be nice! It must hurt real bad. That happened to you too last month, remember?"
Sonic struggles to get words out between his snickering. "Oh yeah, that." He feigns a pained hiss. "I remember. Had to sit on an ice pack. Yeah. Yep, that was something, alright."
Suspicious, Knuckles looks back at the direction where Amy had vanished, then squints at Sonic, noting the naughty glint in his eyes and the shit-eating grin.
Sonic witnesses Knuckles' face twist into a range of emotions: wide-eyed shock, then denial, dread, disgust, silent rage, then a look that Sonic deciphers as a promise of a future spiked glove to the face Sonic needs to watch out for.
Would Sonic's defense that Amy liked it be worth the risk of Knuckles wanting to hit him harder?
END