Work Text:
Frankly, Stone didn’t ask enough questions.
He was just happy to be there, for the most part. Being included in Robotnik’s schemes was the highest honor Stone felt he could receive. After all, he’d long made it clear he was more than happy to waste away his days drowning in paperwork and menial tasks if it meant he was working for the doctor. A mere glimpse of his genius could sustain him for days.
When Robotnik offered– demanded, technically– that Stone accompany him on an undercover mission, his enthusiasm almost made the doctor reconsider. After some groveling and a promise to tone it down, Stone was awarded a date and time along with a set of coordinates.
However, now basking in the light of a flashing neon sign on an otherwise dim street, Stone had to admit that he was more than a little confused.
He glanced at Robotnik, then back to the sign, staring dumbly at the nearly illegible font.
“Doctor, are we at a club?”
Robotnik merely hummed in response, beckoning Stone to join the short queue that had formed on the sidewalk. He went without question, falling into step beside the doctor.
“Astute observation, Stone. Wonder what tipped you off?” Robotnik said with mock intrigue, pointedly throwing a glance at a gaggle of young women, each draped in a few scraps of bright fabric and little else. A couple men tagged along behind them in questionable attire of their own.
Stone followed his eyes, all too willing to accept a reality where he was apparently about to go clubbing with his boss– with the doctor, of all people. Sure, why not? It was hardly the strangest situation they’d ever found themselves in under the pretense of gathering intel.
He was vaguely aware just how out of the scope of his job description this was, but that had never seemed to matter under the doctor’s charge.
Watching as the group of girls stumbled forward in a fit of giggles, clearly already inebriated, Stone simply shrugged.
The line moved rather quickly and when they approached the door, Robotnik pulled something out of his jacket and covertly flashed it at the bouncer. The man nodded wordlessly and gestured them in. Stone leaned forward to catch a glimpse of whatever Robotnik had leveraged to his advantage– it wasn’t an ID, that much was clear– but it had already been pocketed.
“Come along,” Robotnik said wistfully, grabbing Stone by the arm and leading him inside. “I'd just hate to miss all the action.”
It was something akin to a stakeout, Stone quickly learned. The government had a pin in two very specific men who were known to frequent the establishment, taking advantage of the noise and atmosphere to conduct their business away from watchful eyes.
Stone’s second thought upon learning this was that they were clearly onto something– stepping through the threshold was an immediate attack upon every sense, very nearly staggering him in place. Flashing beams of light intermittently cut through a dark sea of bodies, much closer to blinding than illuminating, and little could be heard over the heavy electronic bass blaring through the speakers.
It was, in every sense, suffocating, and for the very same reasons, extremely easy to slip under the radar. Fully exposed and yet practically imperceivable, Stone mused. Clever.
Robotnik didn’t seem to think so.
His nose wrinkled in disgust and he clicked his tongue before slinking off to the side of the room. He trailed close to the wall, expertly weaving around the masses. On the occasion he found the route barricaded by a loitering couple, too engrossed in sucking each other’s faces to care, Robotnik simply stuck out his arms and crudely shoved his way through the middle of them.
Stone stayed close to his heels and had the decency to shoot the victims apologetic looks, though he wasn’t truly sorry. It was rather gross. Maybe he was just getting old– admittedly, there was once a time when he thrived in this atmosphere, but it had been over a decade since then.
On the contrary, Stone highly suspected it was never Robotnik’s scene.
Camped out in a corner of the room, he looked severely out of place amongst the crowd. Robotnik had specified casual attire in what few details Stone was given to prepare for the mission, but he had hardly heeded the dress code himself. Robotnik had abandoned his usual tunic in favor of a well-tailored button-up– still black, of course– and a pair of dark jeans. The jacket stayed.
Stone supposed it was casual for the doctor, but all that expensive fabric was a far cry from the faded t-shirts and sneakers most men opted for. Though he hadn’t anticipated the night would begin at the club, Stone had played it relatively safe with a pair of jeans and nicely fitted shirt and found he fit in rather easily.
He had to wonder if that was part of the reason he’d been invited in the first place– they certainly looked far less conspicuous as a pair. Though Stone opted, for his own sake, not to dwell on the scene they were painting together.
“This is disgusting,” Robotnik scoffed over the music, turning up his nose at the crowd. “Can practically smell the hormones swimming in this place. I can barely think over the stench of these degenerates.”
“I think that smell is Axe body spray and sweat, mostly,” Stone replied, scanning the room. The swarm of tightly packed bodies moved in a disjointed pattern, bobbing up and down with seemingly no correlation to the beat of the song. He narrowed his eyes. “And alcohol. Definitely a lot of that.”
Robotnik rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall and crossing one ankle over another along with his arms. From beside him, Stone had to admit that he looked rather alluring in a pretentious sort of way; handsome, a little mysterious, and definitely full of himself. Stone was more familiar with the type than he liked to admit.
“Ah, yes, the holy trifecta of the desperate and depraved. Everyone here is on the prowl, just peacocking themselves around for attention like disgusting little animals. It would almost be amusing if it weren’t so repulsive.”
Stone bit back a laugh, recalling the doctor’s many grandiose bids for attention. He had a known flair for the dramatics and a distaste for being anything other than the center of every room. Stone supposed the context was different, but there was still something to be said of the hypocrisy.
“Everyone except us,” Stone replied, leaning back against the same wall.
Robotnik’s eyes flickered towards him, unabashedly trailing down the length of his body, just once. Stone felt his skin prickle under the gaze, but the doctor glanced off to the side of him just as quickly.
“Hm. Your attire certainly says otherwise, Agent,” Robotnik muttered, eyes fixated on something over his shoulder.
Stone’s face burned in response, pulse briefly jumping at the accusation.
“Wha–?” he started before the doctor cut in.
“Don’t play dumb, Stone, you’re already about as stupid as they come. It’s excessive.” Robotnik made a sweeping gesture towards the entirety of him. “Just look at you. I can practically see your pores through that shirt of yours. Invested in a vacuum sealer recently or have you taken to the children’s section recently?”
Stone balked at him. He knew he shouldn’t talk back, but something about the atmosphere spurred him on. “You didn’t even tell me where we were going, sir,” he pointed out.
“Clearly you’ll take the attention wherever you can get it from, then. The last thing I need is your desperation drawing the interest of these other degenerates when we’re meant to be keeping a low profile,” Robotnik scoffed, head turned to the side and expression hidden. “Honestly, Stone, your indecency threatens the integrity of this whole operation.”
Before Stone could begin to unravel the contents of that accusation, a flash of movement across the room captured both of their attention.
It was brief, but Stone clocked a set of blurry features resembling those of one of two men they were waiting for. They weren’t unique in any way, likely indistinguishable to most, but Stone had a decade of special agent training under his belt; his eyes were expertly tuned to the seemingly inconspicuous.
Robotnik, having an impressively well-rounded skill set, noticed the same. He shifted closer, sliding against the wall until his face was inches from Stone’s.
“Potential sighting at three o’clock,” Robotnik spoke lowly against the shell of his ear. The words were accompanied by a puff of hot breath against his skin that threatened to draw a shudder from Stone.
He ignored it, gaze already trained on the sight. To their shared dismay, the perpetrator was quickly swept into the crowd. Stone blinked, trying to follow his location, but the flashing lights and movement of the crowd intermittently cut into his senses.
He shook his head. “Lost him.”
Robotnik made a frustrated noise beside him, leaning back. “We’ll split up and approach from opposing angles. Move in until you can get a proper look but remain inconspicuous. Don’t stare. No eye contact.”
Stone nodded firmly. “Yes, sir.”
They separated without further discussion, cutting through the crowd with difficulty. Stone turned himself to the side, shuffling between bodies, until he found a small pocket of space. He raised his head over the crowd as best he could, scanning across the dim masses to no avail.
Cursing under his breath, Stone continued to make his way further into the crowd, closer to the point he had originally spotted the supposed perpetrator.
After failing to relocate him from several new angles, Stone begrudgingly sunk back into the crowd to avoid drawing attention.
While they sounded exciting in principle, stakeouts were largely comprised of waiting. It was a disappointing illusion to shatter, but a definite improvement to his usual secretarial work.
When an unexpected body knocked into Stone’s side, nearly knocking his balance, he quickly whipped around to confront the source of it.
“Oh– sorry!”
While Stone had half-expected to find the doctor behind him, he was instead met with a young woman. She was still standing unnecessarily close to him, he noted, and her flushed skin glistened with a combination of sweat and glitter. Stone suspected she had been there a while.
She was still looking at him, so he offered a polite smile. “Don’t worry about it,” he assured, but his voice was swept away by the music.
The woman didn’t seem to care, instead launching into an unprovoked and somewhat unintelligible explanation of how her friends had abandoned her to hook up with some guys. Or perhaps the same guy. Stone wasn’t clear on that element and didn’t feel inclined to seek an answer.
He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. Now silent, she looked at him expectantly.
“That sucks,” he settled for, raising his voice slightly.
The woman nodded fervently, as if he had said something particularly awe-inspiring. The curls in her hair shook with the motion, falling across her face as she clumsily attempted to brush them away.
“I know, right!” she exclaimed, though her bright tone suggested she wasn’t particularly torn up over their betrayal.
She continued on, but Stone struggled to make sense of it between the noise and alcohol-induced slur of her words, catching only bits and pieces of the one-sided conversation.
Stone nodded along anyway, feigning intrigue, while his eyes continued to scan the surroundings. After a few useless rotations, his gaze drifted back to the woman just in time to catch the sudden pivot of her interest.
“So what’s your name?” she shouted over the noise, cupping one hand around the side of her bright pink lips.
Stone only smiled at her.
Apparently, that was enough to sate her as she giggled lightly and drifted closer, bouncing in time with the song.
“You’re cute,” she decided, this time leaning in to deliver the compliment.
Stone knew he was cute, but he elected to play into it anyway. There was no harm in having a little fun– he had a suspicion the evening would wind up being rather uneventful either way.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.” She nodded, running a hand up the length of his arm. The tips of her acrylic nails scraped against his bare skin. “Did you come here by yourself?”
Stone opened his mouth, another non-answer playing on his lips, but a sudden, firm grip on his shoulder shook the thought from him.
“No, he didn’t.”
The sound of Robotnik’s voice startled him as Stone was yanked backward, nearly colliding with the doctor’s chest as he was manhandled. The young woman blinked up at the pair with wide eyes, a picture of alarm, and Stone attempted to look apologetic in his own state of surprise.
“Oh,” she said flatly. Her eyes darted between them and her brow creased, clearly trying to puzzle out the situation through a drunken haze. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”
Robotnik, still maintaining a crushing grip on Stone’s shoulder, shoved him to the side. The same hand then travelled to his back, pushing him along in the opposite direction.
“Shocker. You clearly don’t know a lot of things, considering the dreadful shade of your lipstick. It severely dilutes your complexion. Consider familiarizing yourself with a little thing called color theory rather than my assistant here,” Robotnik replied without taking a breath. He spun on his heel, throwing one final look over his shoulder. “Bye, now!”
Stone blinked rapidly as he was pushed out of sight of the woman, all while Robotnik grumbled something unintelligible behind him.
“What did I say, Stone? Unwanted attention. And to think you were right there with her, fraternizing in the midst of our operation.” He clicked his tongue, still scooting Stone along. “Though I suppose courting might be a more apt description.”
“I really wasn’t, sir,” Stone had half a mind to say. As much as he wanted to offer an explanation, he felt all too aware of the palm pressing into his back, the sensation effectively silencing him.
Were he slightly more delusional, he might even characterize the behavior as oddly possessive, of all things; of course, Stone wasn’t quite that far gone, so he pushed the thought out of his mind.
“This is why I’m always pushing for professional attire. Consider yourself lucky I’m letting you off with a warning this time, Agent. Such indiscretion won’t be tolerated a second time!” Robotnik tutted, swinging around another couple locked in a messy embrace to avoid collision.
Stone merely stumbled along.
“Thank you, Doctor. It won’t happen again.”
With any luck, their next excursion would be quite literally anywhere else.
Still, Robotnik seemed determined to make the most of their time there despite his constant complaints of the scenery, the people, the music. The smells. The interior layout. The brand of lightbulb they used. Structural integrity of the building itself– apparently there was a whole host of deficiencies Stone quickly became familiar with.
He groaned internally, resisting the urge to bang his head against the nearest supposedly structurally unsound wall by the time another twenty minutes had passed without any sign of the perpetrators they’d come looking for.
Stone was, of course, genuinely pleased to be included in the doctor’s operation, but the combination of unpleasant sensory experiences and near-constant whining from his boss was decidedly less than ideal for a Friday night.
Still, he validated Robotnik’s every complaint and chuckled at every clever jab thrown to the crowd– the doctor had rather strong opinions on current fashion trends, it seemed. Stone wasn’t sure whether that was surprising or not. He supposed Robotnik had a strong opinion on everything.
Shortly after the doctor concluded his critique on the style of wedge heel a woman had taken to the dance floor in, Stone caught sight of the first perpetrator once more.
He wasn't far from where they spotted him the first time, but he was notably still alone.
“Looks like his buddy must be late,” Stone mumbled, eyeing the doctor.
Robotnik made a noise beside him. “A bit more than fashionably, I’d say. He’s sure to be getting restless.”
The pair watched as the man checked his watch once more, then promptly whipped out his phone to tap aggressively at the screen.
Robotnik perked up, immediately intrigued by the new activity. “Interesting. Let’s move in for a better angle.”
Stone nodded once, trailing behind the doctor as they subtly drifted through the crowd, once again finding a pocket of space along the back wall. In an effort to blend in, they stood facing one another rather than side by side, giving the illusion of just another pair engaged in conversation.
Perhaps it was paranoia, or perhaps a sixth sense, but Stone soon got the creeping feeling that they weren’t being as inconspicuous as intended. The crowd around had receded slightly, leaving them more exposed as they continued to stand apart from the rest.
That, and the frequent glances towards the irritated perpetrator likely didn’t help their case.
Stone risked a glance through the corner of his eye, feeling a pit in his stomach as he confirmed that they were indeed being looked at. He leaned in closer to Robotnik, turning his head to the side to conceal his mouth.
“We’re being watched,” he said carefully, just loud enough for the doctor to hear.
Robotnik grumbled something under his breath, drowned out by the noise around them. When Stone caught a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision, his eyes subconsciously snapped to the side before a hand appeared on his face and shoved his head to the side once more.
Stone found his eyes forcibly drawn to the doctor once more, now acutely aware of the proximity between them. The air left his lungs at approximately the same moment. Stone could practically feel the heat radiating from the doctor’s body and pooling in the meager space between them.
“Stop looking at them, you clod,” Robotnik hissed, voice low. “Look at me. Act normal.”
Stone swallowed with difficulty, his lips parting on impulse as he did as he was told. He met Robotnik’s eyes with a wide, unblinking gaze, raking over the subtle sheen of sweat along his hairline and flushed complexion illuminated by the flashing overhead lights.
The sight was such a contrast to the usual picture of the doctor– the one that existed under even, fluorescent lightning, several feet separating them. Unable to help it, Stone let out a dry laugh at the absurdity of it all.
He wasn’t acting normal, but nothing about this scenario was.
Robotnik’s eyes briefly narrowed at him, perhaps preparing to chew him out for any number of reasons– all of which would be warranted– before they caught on something over his shoulder. The doctor’s gaze hardened at once.
“I believe they’re approaching,” Robotnik said in a rushed whisper. The hand on Stone’s face tightened, holding him in place.
“Shit,” Stone muttered, holding his gaze.
He approximated they had no more than fifteen seconds to act.
They could attempt to slip away, but that would only serve to draw attention and potentially confirm their intentions– not to mention their severely limited range of movement amongst the oblivious and uncoordinated crowd.
It didn’t take a genius to recognize that the odds weren’t great.
He quickly scanned their surroundings, searching for some sort of out amongst the sweaty dancers and scattered couples, but another idea suddenly came to mind– a horrible, ludicrous idea that could more aptly be considered a death sentence, but Stone was something of a chronic risk-taker.
He stole another glance at the doctor, sparing another second awaiting a last-minute directive; when none came, Stone exhaled sharply and promptly dismissed all remaining inhibition along with the breath.
Without pausing to steel himself, Stone stepped forward, both palms against the doctor’s chest, and pressed him against the wall. Robotnik didn’t have to speak for Stone to know exactly what he was thinking; his scandalized expression conveyed plenty. Instead, the doctor merely sputtered in what was surely a fit of outrage and disbelief as Stone slipped into the space between them.
“Sorry, Doctor,” he whispered next to Robotnik’s ear, pressing himself fully against the doctor’s body. “Just play along.”
“Agent–”
Stone didn’t wait to hear the rest.
Without warning, he reached up to grab either side of Robotnik’s face and surged forward, pressing their lips together with more force than intended and far too little grace.
Robotnik made a muffled noise against his mouth– one of surprise and a sizable dose of outrage, if he had to guess– and his body went rigid. At that, Stone pulled back slightly, chest already heaving with adrenaline and something far more dangerous, and raised his arms to further create a barrier between them and any onlookers.
This time, he pressed in slower, capturing Robotnik’s mouth in a far more controlled motion. Stone held himself in place as their lips brushed together gently, not quite kissing so much as breathing one another’s air. He felt when Robotnik exhaled against his mouth, his shoulders noticeably dropping from their rigid posture.
Though no longer deathly tense, Robotnik still wasn’t reciprocating. Stone didn’t know what he’d expected other than to be immediately shoved off and berated for his indiscretion. If he really thought about it, he hadn’t expected to get this far at all.
Just as Stone was beginning to feel as if he’d made a grave mistake, preparing to wrench himself away completely and begin formulating the first of many apologies, Robotnik’s hand came to rest tentatively on his waist.
It was a faint touch, clearly uncertain, but Stone fought against himself not to shudder under the sensation. A sharp sting of excitement cut through him and he allowed himself to tilt his head, connecting their mouths more firmly.
As he did, the hand on his waist grasped him with more intent, no longer hovering in the fabric of his shirt.
Stone drew back, then pressed forward against, adjusting the angle until their mouths slotted together and he felt the faintest pressure of Robotnik pushing back against his lips.
The slight, reciprocal motion drew a fresh wave of heat from him and Stone’s breath quickened, thankfully hidden between their lips. He didn’t dare to open his eyes, to check if they were still being watched for fear of breaking the illusion of their heated scramble.
Instead, Stone slid his mouth against the doctor’s in a slow, easy motion, tilting and readjusting the angle in the hopes that it would appear more frenzied than it was; actually committing to that degree of intimacy with no build up would almost certainly be jarring and poorly received.
Robotnik returned the kiss warily, almost cautious in his movements, and Stone had to wonder how much experience he truly had in this realm. For once, the doctor didn’t seem to know what to do with himself– his lips moved stiffly, seemingly chasing Stone’s rhythm with rather clumsy precision.
Stone perceived his lack of expertise, but he truly couldn’t bring himself to care beyond the shallow acknowledgement of the fact. Not when Robotnik’s lips were hot against his own, his body intoxicatingly close.
He quickly found that his mind could focus on very little beyond that.
When Stone was struck with the idea to trail one hand into Robotnik’s hair, tangling through the longer strands along the top, the motion drew a small, contemplative hum from the doctor.
Stone nearly jumped when he felt a cold, gloved hand against the small of his back in return. The moment the sensation registered, he all but melted into the touch, pressing their chests flush together in a moment of all together poor judgement. Though he was jarringly sober for the establishment, not having had a single drop of alcohol in his system, Stone felt his head go fuzzy all the same.
Still attempting to maintain a degree of self-control, he pulled back, breathing heavily against Robotnik’s lips.
Stone’s eyes fluttered open, having to blink several times to adjust to the harsh atmosphere, and twisted his head to look around the room. As quickly as the scene steadied, Stone’s eyes widened at the sight of the perpetrator just off in the distance. It was easy to locate him in the crowd as he was perhaps the only motionless form in a writhing sea of movement, stood perfectly still and–
He was still staring at them.
“Close by,” Stone mumbled, lifting his eyes to meet Robotnik’s gaze in a manner he hoped would convey the situation.
Instead, he was temporarily staggered by the sight of the doctor already looking down at him, uncharacteristically stunned. His lips were reddened, still parted, and several strands of hair fell carelessly across his forehead from where Stone had pulled them free.
“Goddamn,” Stone said dumbly, barely registering the word before it escaped his mouth. Immediately, he froze, rushing to rectify the slip. “I mean–”
In the end, he didn’t get far.
“Shut up.”
Stone didn’t have the opportunity to contemplate the order before Robotnik surged forward, crushing their mouths together in one swift, graceless motion.
The unexpected kiss drew a startled noise from Stone that emerged from his throat more akin to a groan. He briefly felt an embarrassing heat rise to his face before the feeling was drowned out by the sensation of Robotnik’s lips moving against his in earnest.
Their teeth clacked together in an unruly motion as the doctor’s hand traced a line up Stone’s back, coming around to clasp at the nape of his neck. Stone felt as his head was pushed forward, pressing him further in Robotnik’s mouth.
A substantial amount of salvia was pooling between their lips as they slid together easily and Stone noted that Robotnik had picked up a rather steady rhythm beneath the frenzy of his movements. He supposed it was obvious in retrospect that the doctor would be a quick learner in this regard as well, but Stone’s thoughts were becoming far less coherent with every taste of Robotnik’s spit and scratch of stubble against his own.
His hands fell uselessly to the doctor’s sides, grasping at the fabric of his shirt and toying with his collar, to which Stone swore he felt the imprint of a smile against his lips before it was swallowed in another kiss.
Stone vaguely registered the moment when he began to forget himself, the very relevant context of the situation melting away between the heat of their mouths, as he let slip a soft groan, praying the noise would be lost as well.
For a moment, Stone almost felt like his younger self, saddled up with some handsome stranger at the back of a dinghy club. The sensation of cold metal buttons pressing into the bare skin of his neck served as an insistent reminder of exactly who he was pressed against, but the knowledge only wrenched another throaty groan from his lungs.
Fuck it, Stone thought, the heat of the moment finally overriding the apparently singular brain cell he was operating on. Why shouldn’t I enjoy it while I can?
He quickly stuffed a myriad of reasons detailing exactly why he shouldn’t to the back of his mind and allowed his hands to roam the expanse of the doctor’s body, tracing over his chest and coming to grasp his hips. Robotnik made a curious noise, as if surprised by his exploration, but didn’t push him away.
When Robotnik’s fingers trailed up his neck, grasping and the roots of his hair with a seemingly experimental tug, Stone’s mouth fell open with a gasp that swiftly dissolved into a rather pathetic whimper. Robotnik only exhaled against his mouth, swallowing the noise, and repeated the motion once more.
Admittedly, Stone was still coherent enough to recognize when the situation truly got out of hand– because it was, of course, his fault.
He titled his head into the kiss to press their lips together in one firm, steady motion. To his surprise– and perhaps delight, among other things– this was enough to elicit a small, open-mouthed noise from Robotnik. It was nothing more than a vague admission of enjoyment, barely audible, but the sound hit Stone’s ears with the force of a gunshot.
All at once, he leaned his body into their shared touch, slotting one leg in between the doctor’s and gripping his hips tightly as Stone grappled for more contact before realizing, with subsequent horror, what he was doing.
Stone hastily pulled himself back, stumbling slightly and still with his hands on Robotnik’s hips before he pulled those away, too.
He cleared his throat, immediately searching for an appropriate apology for accidentally getting too into a tactical make-out session with his boss before deciding to skip straight to groveling for forgiveness.
Stone lifted his gaze with effort, dreading the look on the doctor’s face– his silence was surely a sign of immense, unspeakable anger– but found his expression disconcertingly neutral.
Somehow, that was more frightening.
Robotnik opened his mouth, closed in, then opened it once more.
“I fear we’ve lost them again,” he said eventually.
"Oh." Stone blinked, attempting to recall the mission that brought them here in the first place. “That’s not good.”
“Eloquent as always, Stone,” Robotnik sighed, fixing him with a much more familiar look of disapproval. “But also entirely incorrect, as diverting their attention was the goal in this case. Something tells me you haven’t already forgotten that little maneuver you just pulled.”
“Right, of course. Sorry.” Stone shook his head, attempting to dislodge his aforementioned braincell from whatever wall it was currently stuck to. “Good. That's good.”
Robotnik’s eyes narrowed and he titled his head with a contemplative, pitiful look. “You’d think, if anything, exchanging all that salvia and bacterial matter would have lended you some of my intelligence, but you seem even stupider than before. Why is that?”
Stone felt his face heat once more, relenting to the deserved insult. “I don’t know, Doctor.”
He knew exactly why.
Robotnik made a small, disapproving noise. His eyes pointedly slid down Stone’s body once more.
“Well, it would seem to me, Agent,” he started, finally returning his gaze to Stone’s eyes, “that your blood is everywhere except your brain. Unfortunate, but fixable. Let’s hope you return to good working order soon, yes?”
Stone sputtered, eyes nearly bulging from his head, as he struggled for a defense he knew he didn’t have. Robotnik, in turn, only laughed at his pitiful state, seemingly finding great amusement at his humiliation.
“I would ask where you learned such outlandish tactics– and you’re welcome for not instantly vaporizing you, by the way– as you clearly left some experience off your resume, but I reckon I’d rather not know all the salacious details of your civilian life.”
“Right,” Stone said dumbly, still in disbelief.
Robotnik hummed in return, crudely wiping his mouth. “Next time, let’s keep those dirty little secrets out of the workplace. Understood?”
This wasn’t the workplace, nor was the mere idea of engaging in physical intimacy considered a dirty secret to most, but Stone elected to nod along as if it all made sense.
“Yes, Doctor. My apologies,” he said honestly.
The doctor only shrugged. “I was getting bored of this filthy excuse for a stakeout anyway. Honestly, any intern with an active pulse could’ve done this,” he scoffed, standing up from the wall and beckoning Stone along. “Those imbeciles would find a real sense of community in this shithole, I imagine. If we’re lucky, they might not have ever returned!”
“Wait–” Stone paused, shifting on his feet but not quite moving to follow. “We’re just leaving?”
Robotnik stopped walking only to plant his hands on his hips– the very same hips Stone’s hands were just around, as his mind cruelly reminded him– and fix him with an incredulous look.
“What, don’t tell me you’ve got unfinished business with that woman?” he suggested, sounding disgusted by every word leaving his mouth. “Or did you happen to spot another tantalizing conquest along the way?”
“No. Trust me, Doctor, she really wasn’t my type.” Stone shook his head, attempting to right his thoughts once more. “I meant about the mission?”
Robotnik only looked at him as if it was the stupidest possible thing he could’ve said.
“What about it?” he exclaimed flippantly, already turning to walk away. “I’m bored, so we’re leaving. Now come along, Agent, before I get bored of you, too." He paused, contemplating, then added, "Even if you have been rather surprising tonight.”
Stone eyed him once more in disbelief, then promptly followed suit, the faint sensation of the doctor’s lips still imprinted on his own.
He reached up to touch them while blindly navigating between sweaty bodies, pulled along at Robotnik’s mercy.
For once, Stone had to wonder– why did they even come here?