I once read a oneshot about Sonic finding out that the Resistance didn't keep close contact with Tails during the War, and it was really good, but I feel Sonic wasn't as angry as he should've been. So here's my two cents written from the outsider perspective of the Rookie character.
(This might soon become a whole story, but for now, this is it)
After six months of the world mourning Sonic the Hedgehog, the Resistance has finally brought him home.
Not to brag, but I was the one to bust him out. Well, kind of. Other members of the team hacked into the Death Egg’s security system and freed Sonic from his chains. Then, Sonic fought the leader of the Deadly Six (not sure who they are, exactly; fingers crossed we don’t run into them) and during his escape, he found me courageously fighting a few badniks all by myself. He gave me a hand, not that I needed it. From there, I called Knuckles the Echidna, mission leader, on my wrist communicator and led Sonic to freedom.
So it was a team effort, but I was the first person in the world to see Sonic the Hedgehog alive.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I’d find inside the Death Egg. Everyone seemed convinced that Sonic was killed in battle. Even the leaders of the Resistance, supposedly his closest friends. The only person who firmly disbelieved this was a kid named Tails, but he left the HQ long before I showed up. I’ve heard bits and pieces about him, but for the most part, he’s an Off-Limits Topic. Though I know to mind my own business, I always wondered how a little kid could be so important to a cause like this.
In the next room, something slams against the table. “Stop stalling, Knuckles!” Sonic the Hedgehog hisses. “Tell me where he is.”
Knuckles sighs. “He’s probably at his workshop—”
“Probably? You don’t know?”
“I’ve been a little busy, if you hadn’t noticed,” Knuckle snaps.
“Busy.” Sonic scoffs. “That’s not an excuse.”
“We tried to make him stay, but he wanted to leave.”
“I don’t care that he isn’t here. I care that you don’t know where he is! He could be hurt, or worse.”
“Don’t think like that.”
“How can I not? I’ve been locked up for six months, the world has gone to shit, and my little brother is in the middle of it—alone!”
A chill jolts through me. Little brother?
“How long has he been gone?”
Silence.
“I’m losing my patience here, Knux,” Sonic growls.
“Four months.”
More silence. It stretches long enough for me to contemplate glancing inside, just to make sure they’re both still breathing.
Then a blue blur races past me. I don’t have a chance to move before he knocks me into the wall. Once I find my footing, I run after him.
The front door hits something hard when I push it open. Metal scrapes under my feet. Confused, I step over the mess and continue into the street. I don’t see Sonic, but he definitely came out here.
The entire street before me is littered with carnage. Badniks torn in half. Blue and red wires strung out like entrails. Smoke billowing from piles of robots who still twitch and spark, as if they’re in pain. At the center of it all, I finally spot him: the great and legendary Sonic the Hedgehog rips the power source out of a badnik’s chest and crushes it in his hand.
I can’t move. In minutes—seconds, maybe—he did what it takes a squad of Resistance soldiers to accomplish in hours.
Tossing the badnik to the ground, Sonic finally spots me. My stomach turns. I know he’s the One Who Saves the World, the Good Guy, the Hero… But right now, I wonder if it’d be safer to retreat and stay out of his way.
I’ve been locked up for six months, the world has gone to shit, and my little brother is in the middle of it—alone!
“Hey, you’re the one who rescued me from the Death Egg,” Sonic says as he approaches. His sudden calm demeanor is startling.
“Uh y-yeah, that’s me,” I stammer.
“I never thanked you for that. Knuckles said you’re new to the Resistance?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Good. With more people fighting back, we’ll take back our planet in no time.”
“With you here, we should be able to take him down tomorrow.” I try to laugh as I glance around at the wreckage, but it comes out shaky and awkward.
Sonic’s smile is sharp and not quite friendly. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’ll be a bit longer than that. I’ve got something to take care of, first.”
I nod. “Right. You wanna find your brother.”
Green eyes cut to me. Immediately, I regret everything.
“Thought I felt someone listening in there,” he mutters.
“I–I wasn’t eavesdropping. I mean, I didn’t mean to—” I wince. “Sorry. I’ve just heard a lot about Tails in the last month, and I… I didn’t know he’s your brother.”
“That seems to have slipped everyone’s minds.”
“I can help you find him, if you want.”
Sonic snorts. “Thanks, but I think it’d be better if you stay here.”
“Remember when I saved you from the Death Egg while still being new to the Resistance?”
“Remember how scared you were when you stepped outside a minute ago?”
I bristle. “I wasn’t—”
The knowing look he gives me snaps my mouth shut.
“I was just surprised.”
“Right. Surprised that the Hero could be so violent?” Crossing his arms over his chest, Sonic observes his destruction. “Gotta be honest here, I’m not ready to jump back in and save the day. Don’t get me wrong, Eggman’s reign of terror will be ending very soon. That’s a promise. But the only thing I care about right now is finding Tails. So if you’re expecting the Hero, you'll have to wait.”
I frown. Who is Sonic the Hedgehog if not the Hero?
Against my better judgement, I realize I want to find out.
“Well… I kinda wanna meet this infamous Tails.”
He smirks. “He’s definitely worth the trip.”
“Then, what are we waiting for? Any idea where he might be?”
Sonic eyes me. Then his smirk softs into a smile, and he leads the way to Tails’s workshop. I fall into step beside him, trying to ignore the scrape of metal at our feet.
I just finished my first sonic the hedgehog (movie universe) fanfic, after three long months :')
It's called the aluminum bat. Basically, it's a "Tails is bullied" fic with a twist, featuring protective Wachowski family and Tails struggling to adjust to his new family after spending so much time on his own!
Did it end the way I expected? Not really. But did I have fun writing it? Yes... and I got to add some spice to my Google search history again (researching crimes and whatnot).
(And this is the first multi-chapter fic I've finished in 2 years 🥹 yay me)
Here's more of Tails & Starline being roomies during the War. Featuring: Prisoner Sonic!
The Death Egg
Approximately 5 months, 25 days, 22 hours since Dr. Eggman’s victory over Sonic the Hedgehog
Cell #196
Curled in the corner of his cell, he’s even outnumbered by the tally marks scratched into the walls. At least at this angle if anyone tries grabbing him while he’s asleep, they’ll have to fight through his quills. Sharper now than they’ve ever been, he’d really like to see someone try. He falls asleep that night to the image of blood running down Zavoc’s hands. In the cold, dark solitude, he allows himself the pleasure of smirking.
His subconscious is easy to access today. That’s because he didn’t spend his waking hours building a mental barrier between his mind and Infinite’s illusion magic. Today was… quiet. No one bothered him except to deliver his meals. He tried not to wonder what that meant for those on the ground. Actually, he tries not to wonder what’s happening out there at all.
But he can only distract himself for so long. Tonight, he dreams of his friends. They’re all at Tails’s workshop: him, Tails, Amy, and even Knuckles came down to visit. From his spot on the couch, he can hear Tails and Amy chatting in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Knuckles is trying to get Sonic to move his feet so he can sit down. Sonic grins, which angers Knuckles oh so easily.
“If you don’t move, I’ll sit on you.”
Sonic snorts. But he pushes himself up and draws his feet in, muttering, “You’d probably break my legs.”
He easily deflects the punch that’s thrown at his face. Knuckles glares, but Sonic knows he doesn’t mean it. After a moment, they dissolve into laughter. Knuckles strikes up a conversation, seeming to genuinely enjoy Sonic’s company.
“Sonic!”
Midway through Sonic telling Knuckles about the completely normal and boring day he’s been having, Tails hops over the back of the couch and lands in his lap.
“Whoa!” Sonic laughs. “Where’d you come from?”
Tails doesn’t answer. He only grins and throws his arms around Sonic’s middle. His hold is so tight, Sonic can almost feel it.
“Hey, what’s all this?” he asks, hugging his brother closer. “Something wrong?”
Because it’s been awhile since Tails hugged him like this. He always claims to be too old to still sit in Sonic’s lap—and he never listens when Sonic reminds him that he’s only nine.
“I just miss you,” Tails mumbles, nuzzling his face against Sonic’s chest.
His heart sinks. In front of him, Knuckles has disappeared. Amy isn’t rummaging around in the kitchen anymore.
The room begins to deteriorate.
Sonic’s eyes narrow. His quills raise and sharpen.
“Sonic!”
Little tails snap anxiously at his sides. When he looks down, he’s startled to see a four year old in his arms.
“Why’d you leave, Sonic?” his little brother asks, staring up at him with big, helpless eyes.
“Can you hear me? Please wake up!”
Paint peels off the walls and crumbles into black dust. A lamp is knocked off a table and swallowed up by darkness. Pitch-black nothingness pours over the kitchen. It’s coming from every side.
Sonic tucks Tails’s head beneath his chin. The kid doesn’t need to know what’s happening.
“You said you’d never leave,” Tails mumbles.
“I-I didn’t,” Sonic tries. The void creeps toward him, licking at the rug he’s standing on. Stumbling backward, he nearly loses his balance when he steps into dead air. Tails’s workshop is gone. Amy and Knuckles, gone. Dead? Are they dead? Is Tails….
“You promised.”
“Please!”
He jolts awake, panting and gasping and clawing at his chest helplessly. It’s miserably cold, just like the rest of him. While he catches his breath, the prison is cruel enough to echo his struggle back to him.
Bad dream, he tells himself. Just a bad dream. Calm down. Calm down. This is what he wants. Don’t give him what he wants.
“Sonic!”
He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block that voice out. This isn’t real. None of this is real.
“I knew you were alive,” that achingly familiar voice continues eagerly. “No one believed me, but—but I knew it. Are you okay? I don’t have a lot of time. Can you—”
“Stop already,” Sonic growls. Head bowed, he rubs circles into his temples. “Haven’t you had your fun for the day?”
“Wh-What?”
Look at him. You have to look at him. Don’t back down.
Gritting his teeth, Sonic forces his chin up. Thankfully, he can’t see the fox’s face through the dungeon’s shadows. He just ignores the twin tails flicking restlessly behind him.
The smile that spreads across his face is so wide and so sharp that his cheeks hurt.
“Aren’t you bored yet?” he asks. “Five months, and you still haven’t ‘broken me’ like you said you would.” He uses air quotes around broken, because that’ll definitely irritate the creature.
“What? No! It’s me! It’s Tails!”
Not-Tails is holding something in his right hand. It’s small and orange. He switches it to his left and flexes his right hand at his side. Sonic frowns. That’s a… weird detail for an illusion.
“Look, I don’t have a lot of time. Can you stand? I can get us out of here as soon as I find an escape shuttle, but this place is crawling with badniks. Give me a second, and I’ll figure out how to—”
Footsteps echo to Sonic’s left. Tails sighs then looks at someone out of sight.
“Clever boy,” an unfamiliar voice calls. Their footsteps grow louder, closer.
Sonic’s hackles rise. Who is that? As quietly as he can, he climbs to his feet. Why would Infinite throw in someone Sonic doesn’t know?
Tails’s ears flatten. He takes a step back, his full attention on the mystery person.
“Thought you were asleep,” he mumbles.
“Maybe next time, you should open a portal outside.”
“Who’re you?” Sonic demands, inching toward the cell door.
Once he’s close enough, he can peer around the corner and see the stranger. Unlike Tails, he’s only half shrouded in darkness. A platypus with red eyes looms over his little brother.
“I said who are you?” Sonic growls. “Do you work for Eggman?”
Tails snorts. “He wishes.”
The platypus narrows his eyes at him, completely ignoring Sonic. “You stole something from me.”
“I was only borrowing it.” Tails shrugs, rocking back on his heels.“I wanted to see how far it would take me.”
“And you just so happened to end up on the Death Egg?”
“Wasn’t that the whole point?”
“Hm.”
Faster than Tails can react, the platypus reaches for Tails’s left hand. But before he can touch the kit, Sonic catches his wrist in an iron grip and yanks his arm through the bars.
Now face to face, the platypus’s eyes blown wide with fear, Sonic hisses, “Do not touch my brother.”
Illusions about his friends and family? Fine. Illusions about Tails blaming him for leaving? Whatever. Illusions about some stranger putting his hands on his little brother? Fuck that.
Vaguely, he realizes his fingers are pressing against bone. The only thing he thinks is how easy it would be to crush.
In the distance, an alarm blares. Tails swears under his breath. Belatedly, Sonic realizes it’s an actual swear word. Who taught him to swear?
The platypus shoves away from the cell, forcibly ripping his arm free. Obviously flustered, he pulls his shirt straight and smooths out any wrinkles with his hands.
“Well,” he exhales, looking at Tails again. There’s an irritating smile on his face. “It seems we have to go.” He holds his hand out expectantly.
Tails switches the stone back to his right hand. While he flexes his left, he regards the stranger with a brooding glare.
“Fine,” he finally grits out. And with great reluctance, he gives this person the stone.
The platypus slots it into a holder on his glove. Then, he waves his hand and a swirling vortex appears before them.
This… is officially the strangest illusion.
“Don’t worry, big bro,” Tails tells Sonic. His face is hard with determination. “I’m gonna save you. No matter what.”
Once he’s gone, the platypus turns to Sonic with a wicked grin.
“Yes, Mr. Hedgehog,” he says, stepping closer. “Please, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of him.”
Chills run down his spine. “What do you—”
“Now, sleep.”
He wakes to his breakfast being dropped onto the floor unceremoniously. The robot barely spares him a glance while it locks the door and rolls away.
His head hurts. What the hell happened last night?
Slowly, the memories resurface. So sure that it had all been an illusion, there’s something about that last exchange that still leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
I’ll take care of him.
… Fictional, he decides.
Infinite is trying to make him worry about Tails and about the company he’s keeping while Sonic is away.
None of it was real.
Sonic pulls his food tray closer and digs into the dry biscuit. Eggman and Infinite want to make him feel guilty, like he failed, like he abandoned his little brother.
That’s all.
It won’t work, though. Eventually, Sonic’s gonna escape this place. His first stop will be to find Tails—alive and well and safe—and his next will be kicking Infinite’s butt. Then he'll take Eggman down, too. Soon, this’ll all be over, and he’ll be back home with his friends.
Sonic Forces and Sonic IDW AU - What if Tails met Dr. Starline earlier? (WIP)
The City, Scholar Square
Approximately 2 months, 3 days, and 12 hours since Dr. Eggman's victory over Sonic the Hedgehog
The first person Dr. Starline encountered in the City was a small fox kit.
Past the metal soldiers marching down the street, he glimpsed orange fur ducking behind trash cans and weaving in and out of alleyways. Before sprinting to a new hiding spot, the child shot a cursory glance at the squadron. Cautious, but not hesitant. Never hesitant, as though this dozen count of E-Series badniks were nothing more than simple-minded animals.
Dr. Starline was both irritated and… intrigued by the child’s naivety.
Perhaps he didn’t understand what he was evading. Ever since the inevitable victory over Sonic the Hedgehog, the City—and the planet, really—had been plunged into a delicious chaos. Despite the way Dr. Starline’s heart pounded, finally being at the epicenter of the Dr. Eggman’s highly-anticipated triumph, he could recognize the disorientation of someone so young.
Still, ignorance would be disastrous in the long run. He considered alerting the badniks and turning this into a learning opportunity. After all, he benefited from learning opportunities himself once upon a time.
Or, perhaps he did know what he was evading. Two months into a war, and even the youngest child couldn't be that ignorant. But if that was the case—why? Why would someone willingly put themselves in danger, knowing they don't stand a chance against such a force? Stupidity? Reckless abandon? Could this be a suicide mission?
The child disappeared before he could make a decision. Dr. Starline watched from the shadows of a parallel alleyway, squinting through robotic crevices to locate that orange fur. The squadron marched on, plunging the street into a dead zone once more.
A trash can sat adjacent to him, miraculously still standing after two months of raids. Once the last E-Series passed from view, a small blur darted from its hiding spot and toward the library. Frowning, Dr. Starline peered around the edge of the building, shamelessly curious about the kit’s destination.
He appeared to be running for another badnik, this one hunched over in defeat. Dr. Starline’s eyes narrowed. Black and red body. Gold bands at the wrists and a “helmet” to match. For a moment, he entertained the idea that he was staring at E-102 Gamma. But, no. That couldn’t be. Dr. Eggman scrapped E-102 years ago. Plus, this model was shorter, more broad shouldered. The fox kit, who’d knelt in front of the robot as soon as he reached it, moved to inspect the clear encasing on the badnik’s front, revealing a red insignia on its shoulder.
Omega.
Air caught in his throat.
His jaw dropped open.
Chaos, this child managed to find E-123 Omega? The last model of the E-100 Series? The most powerful of the E-100 Series? In all of the books Dr. Starline had read, none so much as hinted to the idea that Omega was still functional. Shortly after he was ordered to protect the capsule of the Ultimate Lifeform, Omega’s signal was lost and never found again. Dr. Eggman didn’t dwell, only moved on to bigger and better projects.
Was it possible Dr. Eggman found his lost champion and refurbished him for this invasion? Of course. Save the best for the war, not the battles.
The kit turned toward a toolbox lying against the library’s stone staircase. In one hand, he was holding something these miscreants must've passed off for food. With his other, he sifted through the box until he found a screwdriver and turned back to the robot.
Surely this child didn’t think… he could fix an E-Series? Attempting any would be a feat, even for Dr. Starline without glancing at the schematics first, but E-123 Omega, specifically? The corner of his mouth lifted. He couldn’t help but laugh.
He’d love to know how this child thought he was going to pull that off. Making sure the coast was clear, Starline decided to investigate.
“Hmm, that should have done it,” the child was saying as he approached. He scratched his head, frowning at the robot. “Man, I’ve been out here all morning. Sorry I’m not smart enough to figure it out for you, buddy.”
Dr. Starline glanced over the badnik, sorting through the files of information in his head. “Perhaps he’s in recovery mode,” he suggested. The fox startled, but he ignored him in favor of stepping closer to investigate.
“Uh… What?”
“I recall the Gamma series possessing the ability to repair themselves after battle.”
Dr. Starline pressed his face against the chest window and attempted to commit the badnik’s innerworkings to memory. From there, his gaze trailed the robot slowly, considering every curve, every cut, every modification he could recall from the previous E-Series badniks. He wouldn’t forget this moment for a very long time; standing toe-to-toe with Dr. Eggman’s greatest soldier. If the child weren’t there, he may have pinched himself.
“That would make sense,” the kit said after a moment, turning back to the robot. “If not for self-repairing robots, he would really spend all of his time building new ones.” He laughed.
Dr. Starline glanced over, lifting an eyebrow. He almost asked what was so funny when he noticed the fox’s tails waving behind him.
Tails.
Plural.
... Of course.
“Where are your parents?”
Tails—an old nickname Dr. Starline remembered reading years ago that finally made sense—looked sideways at him. “Not here.”
“All alone, then?”
The kit bristled. “My friends know where I am.”
“Of course,” Dr. Starline said patiently. “Do they usually allow toddlers to roam free like this?”
Tails snorted. “How old do you think I am?”
Before he could attempt an answer, a laser shot past them. It bounced off Omega’s chestplate and ricocheted somewhere behind Tails. Another narrowly missed the hair on Dr. Starline’s head. Looking over his shoulder, his heart leapt at the sight of a dozen more E-Series bots marching toward them.
“Come on!” Tails cried, grabbing the doctor’s hand.
What if... Tails and Dr. Starline met during the war instead?
Set during the IDW Comic Imposter Syndrome, after Dr. Starline tried to break into Tails's house. Tails retaliated by setting a trap at that other house he knew too well. Now that he's back home, he knows it's time to tell Sonic everything.
“Sonic?” Tails calls, kicking the door shut behind him. As he listens for a response, he lifts a hand to run it through his hair. Black residue stains his fingertips. Gunpowder. Wincing, he drops his hand.
“Sonic,” he says again, walking toward the lit hallway. Music meets him halfway, an upbeat rock song from that radio station Sonic loves. “Hey, uh, I need to talk—”
Glass shatters behind him. An arrow whirls past, its razor-sharp fletching grazing Tails’s fur. It sinks into the wall in front of him, a piece of paper impaled around it.
The arrow is long and silver. Smoke rises from the small thrusters on the back as the embers burn out.
Sonic zips around the corner. “What happened?” he demands, big green eyes darting between Tails, the arrow, and the broken window. Without waiting for an answer, he yanks Tails into the kitchen. Once he’s out of range, Sonic peers around the corner again.
Tails can only stare at the arrow.
“I don’t see anyone,” Sonic reports after a moment. “Weird. I didn’t think that was Eggman’s style.”
“It’s not,” Tails agrees.
Keeping an eye on the window, Sonic steps into the open. He yanks the arrow from the wall and catches the paper before it hits the ground.
“‘Clever boy’,” Sonic reads aloud.
Tails’s eyes close, and he sighs.
“Uh… Misfire?” his brother jokes.
When Tails opens his eyes again, he sees the concerned confusion immediately. His heart sinks.
“What?” Sonic asks. He glances over his brother and frowns. One of Tails’s wrists is suddenly in his hand, thumb brushing over his gray fingers. “Tails…?”
“I…” Tails’s ears droop. “I really need to talk to you.”
He sits at the dining table and watches Sonic prepare their plates. A guitar solo plays from the radio on the counter, filling the tense silence between them.
Sonic places a plate in front of him—three pancakes topped with marshmallows and syrup—then takes the chair across from him with his own stack.
Tails didn't even have to ask for the marshmallows.
A scoff draws his attention upward. Dr. Starline regards him and his breakfast plate with disgust, but after two weeks under his roof, his curiosity is becoming easier and easier to spot.
"What kind of monstrosity is that?"
Tails can't help it—he laughs.
They say The Orpheum is a place where legends are made or dreams are killed. I never expected that to be taken so literally.
It's Sunday, only if you're looking at the clock on the wall. For me and the guy I met 5 hours ago, it's still Saturday. His name is Bobby. Robert Shaw. 17. Rhythm guitarist. Starting his senior year at Los Enfadado High School, three weeks out.
We were sitting in my car, three blocks from The Orpheum. Red and blue lights flashing across the building fronts. Neither the victims nor the culprits were still around. Yet, Bobby couldn't stop watching, waiting for something to happen.
I asked what he wanted to do now. He didn't answer. I hadn't heard him speak coherently since the ambulance left. The last thing he said, through a mess of tears and snot and blood-shot eyes, was, "We need to move."
… Before the police arrive, was what he meant. I figured it out when two cars rushed by as we drove away, and he sank into the seat.
"Are you some kind of criminal?" I'd asked.
"No," he'd replied earnestly. "It's a long story."
Victoria will be pissed when she hears about how I believed him. How I drove away from an active crime scene with the only connection buckled down beside me, how I hid him in our garage that night, and now him, on the ground curled under a scratchy blanket, tossing and turning with his eyes squeezed shut, and me, watching from the couch, using dad's work lantern so I don't alert anyone inside. She'll be pissed to know anything, but what was I supposed to do? He lost everything tonight, and suddenly the random bar server became one of the last people to see Sunset Curve in one piece.
It's Sunday, 2 AM. My hands still shake like it's Saturday, 8 PM.
I watch Bobby across the room, who's one toss and turn away from bolting upright with tears streaming down his face, and I wonder, what happens now?
him joining her for a school day just because. making her laugh by messing with the teachers. purposely causing a ruckus when carrie is trying to sing in music class. clapping the loudest after julie performs for her classmates, which is actually the best because no one can hear him; her own personal cheerleader
I know they can’t share clothes but imagine him tagging along on a shopping trip and him picking things out. beanies, flannel & jean & leather jackets, jeans with chains, etc.
oh my gosh WAIT what if luke’s parents found some of his old things and offered them to julie? cause she has a connection to them now—as far as they know, it’s only the garage, but still—and he’s cool with her having it sO WHAT IF IT’S A BOX OF SWEATSHIRTS OR B E A N I E S
cause they’re tangible now, imagine hanging out on the couch, luke writing music with julie laying in his lap, scrolling through her phone
oh mY gosh the HUGS
does hugging mean they can kiss? imagine F O R E H E A D. K I S S E S.
the bedroom boundary thing is still in place and will be for as long as she likes, of course, but sometimes she’s sitting at her window at night, and she catches his eye in the garage, and she waves him over, and they just talk. they talk about any and everything. they talk about their pasts. their future.
the first few times, he’s gone by the time she wakes up. then one morning he’s feeling bold, so he stays. he’s the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes, and if he had a heart, it would be about to explode. then she smiles, and that certainly doesn’t help the heart situation, but it does make everything better. he smiles too. and their next sleepover, he stays again. until she tells him to leave, he’ll stay.
I know I'll come up with more later but I just needed to write them cause every time I see them interact or smile at each other or dance or freaking HUG FOR THE FIRST TIME my heart just grows even bigger. every time
Skateboarding is fun until it’s not—until Alex is suddenly on the ground, back against a wall, completely frozen in fear of the pain he’s yet to feel. His fall wasn’t graceful. What if he moves to get up and, like, breaks his wrist or something? Or realizes he has a concussion? Right now, pressed against the wall with his body entirely still, he’s safe. He’s okay… as long as he doesn’t move!
Willie shouldn’t be smiling, in Alex’s opinion, but it’s a soft grin accompanied by worried eyes, and Alex immediately feels warmer, having to bite his lip to keep away his own smile while Willie approaches. His boyfriend kneels next to him, leaning on one hand.
“You okay?” Willie asks. He glances over Alex quickly before meeting his eyes. Cupping Alex’s face, thumb stroking his cheekbone, Willie teases, “That was a gnarly fall, babe.”
“I know.” Alex sighs, leaning into the touch. “I’m scared to move.”
“Why?”
“I don’t feel hurt… and I don’t think that’s right.”
Willie breathes a laugh, shaking his head fondly. “Well, I hope that’s right. But you have to get up one way or another.” He’s apologetic, fingers brushing through Alex’s hair soothingly.
“Do I?” Alex argues, half joking. “I mean, the view is great. There’s a food truck over there.” He nods, looking over Willie’s shoulder. “And you come here a lot so, I mean, what else do I need?”
Willie laughs. “Okay, all good points, but hear me out.” A teasing smirk eats away the comforting smile. “I can’t kiss you as much as I want to out here.”
Alex raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Mmhm. So, come on. Get up, we can grab some food, and…” Willie tips Alex’s chin up, leans forward, and kisses him softly. He rests his forehead against Alex’s and whispers, “I can show you what I mean back at my place.”
Willie’s good at words, have I mentioned? Skilled, Alex thinks. He always knows exactly what to say… and how to make his heart race.
Alex moves to push himself up when pain explodes in his hand and jolts up his arm. He hisses, immediately falling against the wall again and cradling his arm against his chest. A static residue leaves everything, from his fingertips to his elbow, tingly.
“Ow, ow,” he whines, shaking his head.
“Okay, it’s okay,” Willie says, taking Alex’s other hand between his own. “You tried to catch yourself, didn’t you?”
Alex doesn’t answer, suddenly sheepish. Willie told him once, way back when he was first getting on the board, to fall safely. Alex thought that was kind of an oxymoron. How do you fall safely? But Willie made it make sense: don’t try to catch yourself; fall with your hands in front of you, if you can; wrists break easier than you think they will.
“It’s okay,” Willie tells him again, that teasing smile back on his face. One of his friends calls his name as he approaches, ice pack in his hand. Willie takes it with a quick thanks before turning back to Alex. He takes Alex’s injured hand in a soft hold, featherlike touches against Alex’s palm while he carefully lays the ice pack over his wrist. “I once saw this guy wipeout on the halfpipe. He tried catching himself, too. And he’s been doing this for a while.” Willie gives him a knowing look. “He completely shattered his wrist.”
Alex grimaces. “That sucks.”
“Oh, yeah. It was bad.” Willie watches him. “That isn’t you, though.”
Nodding slowly, Alex admits, “Think I’m going to leave the skateboarding to you.”
“Aw, but you were doing so good.”
Alex shoots him a flat look, which makes Willie laugh. “Okay, fine. No more skateboarding.”
“I’ll still be around to cheer you on, though.” Alex frowns, thinking. “If that’s how skate parks work…”
Willie laughs again, the noise making Alex grin. Shaking his head, Willie kisses him again. “It’s not,” he teases between breaths. “But you’re an exception, baby.”
Alex melts into him, the pain in his wrist long forgotten.
