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If someone had told Sonic a little over a year ago that he would be on the beach with the man who once left him to rot resting against his chest… He would have slit their throat on the spot. The shade of the umbrella above them graciously offered them shelter from the blistering sun. It was time to reapply sunscreen. Of course Flashy was the type to keep track of things like that, Sonic mused to himself smiling. Flash’s skin was soft. The strong muscles under it relaxed as Sonic rubbed the sunscreen on. After the job was done, neither of them moved. They were still content to rest against each other, cooled by the sand under the beach towel and the airy breeze. It smelled like salt and seaweed. Sonic lifted a hand and carded it through Flash’s pale blond hair. His short nails lightly scraped his scalp as they passed and Flash let out a hum of contentment.
What does it all mean anyway? All this time spent lonely and hollow. Killing and taking odd jobs for cash because it was the only thing he was good at. Growing up way sooner than anyone ever should. Y’know, When he was a kid he was proud of himself. He had emotions, a spirit, an identity, all things no one else in The Village had the privilege of becoming acquainted with. Only for it all to crash down on him.
The Village hadn’t bothered to teach him any normal skills. He spent his youth dreaming of running without first learning how to walk. So upon gaining freedom, he collapsed. It wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t the victory he fantasized about winning with his best friend at his side. He never asked to be alone. But even after the years of heartache, when they met again, seeing Flash instantly reminded him of the person he used to be. Despite everything he has done, despite the person he had become, despite falling on his face time and time again, Flash looked at him with that same fondness as he did when they were younger.
When Flash looked at him with that light in his eyes after their fight, all of Sonic’s old tired dead and gone dreams rushed back to him. The warmth it all made him feel felt foreign and unnatural. Despite everything, it made Sonic want to forgive him. At first, that realization was completely devastating. How could he still feel that way after everything? He wasn’t ready to accept it. but time healed him in the same soul crushing way it ripped him apart.
Sonic gathered Flash’s hair up off his neck and put it into a bun. He rested his cheek against the bare skin. Tears began to well up in his eyes. Disgusting. Weak. Nothing makes him cry the way kindness does. Flash turned around and rubbed the tears from under Sonic’s eyes. He smiled and didn’t say anything. He didn’t even need to ask. They often took turns like this, the crying, the comforting, it was all mutual. He just reached for a tissue and water to offer to Sonic before embracing him. After a long moment, they laid down on their sides facing each other without much space in between.
The tears wouldn’t stop. Sonic started to internally reprimand himself, but his mind went quiet when Flash’s hand traveled up and down his side. It moved slowly in long comforting movements. He gasped as Flash idly traced his fingertips over some of his raised scars. The newer ones were still sensitive. The pain carved into his body from all the abuse and trauma wasn’t easy to rewrite. But the way Flash would hold his face while they kissed, the way his soft hands slotted against his own, the way it felt to press against him in a hug, the fuzzy sensation of it all danced around freely in his mind. The touch on his skin was healing in a way he couldn’t put into words. But he didn’t need to put it into words, because it was the same for him too. He knew. Flash closed his eyes and continued his movements, still smiling. Sonic was so overcome with emotion it felt like his heart would explode.
Every piece of himself that got chipped away was slowly starting to come back and resemble something whole again.