I could give you a massage (Metonic Drabble 05)

Eggman may have claimed Metal Sonic had "only one job," and yet, as was typical for the doctor, "only one job" was woefully imprecise. Indeed, as far as Metal was concerned, this particular mission was composed of at least three different tasks.

First, he had to lure Sonic to Azure Lake Zone. This was, perhaps, the easiest task. Wherever Metal went, Sonic would just show up. Guaranteed. It literally did not matter where; this happened everywhere, and Metal didn't even need to do anything.

Thus part one was already in progress, even if it seemed to be taking much longer than normal. Metal had been at Azure Lake for nearly three hours now, with nothing to do but sit in the grass and watch the wind blow gentle ripples across the shallow body of water that gave Azure Lake its name.

Then, at long last, he heard footsteps.

"You are late," Metal said without turning.

"Late? I didn't know we had a date," Sonic said.

"We did," Metal snapped. "And in all previous instances, it took you but a mere twenty minutes or less to find me. This is unacceptable."

Sonic laughed and plopped down into the grass beside Metal. He sighed then slid down, laying on his back and looking up at the clouds. Though the weather was bright and clear, it was late afternoon, and the sun had edged behind the narrow mountain ridge.

Metal leapt to his feet. "What are you doing? Laying down! We were supposed to race!"

Sonic sighed and closed his eyes, the faintest trace of a smile crossing his lips. "You really did plan out our whole date, didn't you?"

"We were supposed to race," Metal repeated. Racing was critical for part two.

"Yeah, well, you can blame 'ol Eggbreath for that one," Sonic groaned. He rolled on his side and winced. "Don't tell him I said this, but his latest Egg-o-whatever actually managed to wear me out yesterday. I swear, every muscle in my body still aches."

"But—" Metal had not planned for this. Part two was a prerequisite for part three. There was no alternative.

Sonic stretched up then let his arms fall back into the grass. He turned his head, looking directly at Metal. "Sorry, Mets, but today's not a running day. Maybe tomorrow?"

Not a running day? Since when was any day not a running day for Sonic?

"Do you…" Metal scanned through his database. He needed something, anything, that would make Sonic feel well enough to race.

And then he found the solution.

"I could give you a massage," Metal said simply.

"W-what?" Sonic bolted upright, and it was the oddest thing, his cheeks were now...red? Why was Sonic red?

"I could give you a massage," Metal repeated. "I have all the data I need for executing the protocol."

"You really want to?" Sonic took a deep breath. He regained a modicum of composure, though he was still flushing. "I mean, I'm not gonna say no, but I didn't think—"

Metal nodded. "Yes. This is the correct course of action."

"Well then," Sonic sunk back into the grass again then rolled over on his stomach, his head tilted aside, resting his cheek on his arms. "If you insist…"

Metal inched over to Sonic, kneeling at the hedgehog's side. He brought his hands up, clicked the data through his processors, then slowly, he pressed both his palms to Sonic's shoulders.

It was...Metal didn't have the words to describe it; it was all so novel. He had never really touched Sonic before, not like this, nor had he ever really thought about what it would be like, but now…

It was just that Sonic was so warm. Heat soaked up from Sonic's body into Metal's hands, and his fur—it was so soft. Metal had never felt anything like it, and he even found himself deviating from his massage protocol, taking the opportunity to run his fingers through the fur.

"Mmm," Sonic purred, closing his eyes. "A little to the left."

Metal complied, dragging his fingers through Sonic's fur as he moved, working his way up to the muscles of Sonic's upper back. With his palms down, he applied pressure, then rocked his wrist back, gently kneading away the pain.

"That's it. That's the spot," Sonic said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I had no idea you could do this."

"It is just a matter of application," Metal said. He brought his hands up to Sonic's shoulders and squeezed, then released, only to squeeze again.

Metal had to admit—Sonic's entire physiology was frankly remarkable. Sonics muscles were so firm, yet surprisingly soft too, and Metal found himself oddly enjoying the examination.

Next, Metal brought his hands up to Sonic's neck, tracing the bottom of Sonic's quills with his fingers. He did that for awhile, then brought his fingers to the side of Sonic's neck, rubbing small circles across Sonic's skin.

"How is this?" Metal asked. "Do you feel better?

When there was no response, Metal leaned over, and quickly figured out why.

Sonic had fallen asleep.

Metal pulled his hands away from Sonic and simply stared at him. Sonic shouldn't be asleep. Sonic was supposed to race him. This was exactly the opposite.

The sky was darkening too. The sun had slipped further down the horizon, lighting the sky with a deep, pastel crimson.

Now what was Metal supposed to do? Part three couldn't happen until after part two, and now Sonic was asleep.

Metal shook his head and slid down into the grass himself, rolling on his side to look at Sonic. Sonic did look so peaceful asleep, and Metal hated to wake him.

Well, technically, if he waited for Sonic to wake up then raced him, that would fulfill part two. Eggman never did specify a time requirement.

Yes. This was a good plan. He would fulfill all the doctor's requirements, and he could spend time with Sonic.

Metal took one last look at Sonic, then activated his own sleep mode. He drifted offline.