touch, where do you lead?
ERROR: INVALID REWARD CHECKSUM
ERROR: OPTICS OFFLINE
ERROR: BALANCE GYROS UNABLE TO RECALIBRATE
ERROR: INTERNAL TEMPERATURES APPROACHING CRITICAL LEVELS
WARNING: EMERGENCY SYSTEM SHUTDOWN IMMINENT
"Slow down, slow down... !" Static threatens to tear his voice-box in half, but somehow, words form through the glitching vocal module.
"Oh Metal, are you really gonna' ask me that?" Comes that inevitable tease, but immediately, the rapid motions decelerate to a crawl. After a few more strokes, they stop entirely. His talons gradually ease from their vice grip in the sheets below, leaving sliver-thin rips in the silky fabric.
The lack of vigorous external stimuli allows him to at last run diagnostics. Several background processes that had crashed restart, internal fans stabilize, and all the minor glitches he had been steadfastly ignoring begin to clear up as automatic repairs take over.
Optics at last reboot to the sight of emerald eyes, gazing back down at him with a mischievous glint. For a moment, an old irritation flares up, but it's quickly tempered by gentle fingers skimming the edges of the massive jet sunken into his chassis. The tender motions aid in pulling him back from an edge that had all his artificial nerves lighting up like a Yule tree.
Metal Sonic does not experience pain; the agony of broken limbs and damaged internal components were unknown to him. Softer touches, however, registered; featherlight caresses and tight, loving holds were things he could process. Over the badnik's lifetime, they had been categorized as things he's come to know and enjoy.
But this?
This had been entirely unknown to him before recently. And after the first heated, euphoric experience, Metal had taken extra liberties for any following occurrences. More specifically, personal modifications not approved by the Eggman Empire Standards of Robotic Weaponry. The badnik had rewritten multiple programming loops, updated processors and harddrives, rerouted cooling system priorities, and even snuck in further practice morphing his claws into more rounded fingertips, as to not accidentally cut tender flesh.
And then there had been the creation of the artificial organ, currently leaking an obscene amount of lubricant down its length. That had been done in utmost secrecy. Delicate artificial nerves are encased in navy blue silicone, and sheathed behind a hidden crotch panel when not in use. The assembly, and subsequent attachment to his body, hadn't been difficult to do.
Now, Metal is starting to wonder if he might have severely miscalculated where the sensitivity levels should have been set.
His system at last finishes restabilizing, and Metal sinks into the mattress with a relieved whirr. The other hedgehog's hand releases his dick and shifts forward, the wet warmth that had been pressed to his partly-bent leg lifting away. He settles comfortably beside the badnik, eyes a haze of endocrine and endorphin-induced satisfaction.
"You alright?" Sonic asks, a husky tone beneath his voice. It does strange things to the synapses lying deep beneath Metal's outer plating.
Pneumatics finish recalibrating, allowing an affirmative nod. With a breathy sigh, the organic hedgehog leans in, lips pressing to his faceplate in open-mouthed kisses. His claws are careful as they thread through the other's quills, tugging him closer to his body.
How... impossible for them to have reached a scenario like the one they are in now, but how addicting the reward signals from such clandestine feats over the past year. He feels like he just can't get close enough; can't get enough of Sonic.
After another moment of this, the other hedgehog pulls back, one thigh lifting over his torso to straddle him. Metal's hands scrabble for the other's hips, gaze rapt on Sonic, rising up to kneel above him. His wet, startlingly soft folds glisten in the faint neons pouring through the shuttered window; coming from a place beyond this tiny world, beyond this illogical, gravitational pull that they share.
"Ready?"
The badnik takes an embarrassing .7305 seconds to respond to his query with a nod.
"Yes." Claws caress summer-short fur before they morph into blunter ends. "But slowly. Please."
"You got it, Mets." He reaches down to carefully wrap his palm around the obscenely-sensitive organ, and starts sinking down those final few inches.
A short burst of cracking static erupts from his vocal modules as Sonic eases himself onto lubricant-slicked silicone. His fingers eagerly dig into the hedgehog's overheating flesh. For just a moment, there's resistance, and then he parts.
It's like nothing he's ever experienced before; Sonic is hot, wet, and perfectly tight around him. His walls flutter as he takes more and more of Metal. His visual feed experiences a momentary stutter, skipping erratically before snapping back into focus. Just in time to witness the other hedgehog settle on his hips.
Sonic, mercifully, does not start moving right away. His hands wander back to Metal's pauldrons, gripping them for balance. The movement results in a heated pulse, radiating outwards from where they're connected.
"Still good?"
"I believe so." He manages through the onslaught of sensations. "It is... a lot."
"Yeah, first times can be like that." Sonic's thumbs stroke along the tops of his shoulders. "We can stop if you-"
"No." Metal interrupts, hips twitching beneath the hedgehog's. "Move."
Sonic complies with his desperate command. His thighs push up, silky soft walls dragging along his length, and then they drop down again in a languid roll.
A low, metallic whine rattles out of his chassis, fans kicking on as Sonic lifts back up. The wet warmth engulfing him sends lightning bolts dancing across his wires. It feels dizzyingly good.
Sonic seems to agree, forehead falling to rest upon Metal's, and setting a slow but steady pace. His breath comes in faint, short bursts, and the sounds of organic flesh colliding with steel are obscene.
"How's it feel?" He asks, rhythm faltering as Metal's hips buck upwards in turn.
"Warm." The badnik's words stutter on another glitch, burrowing deeper into the molten wet heat squeezing him. "And--tight."
A breathless chuckle washes over his plating. Those hands clutch at his pauldrons all the more firmly. Lips press to Metal's forehead in a single, fleeting moment of tender affection, before Sonic's hips drop back down to meet his own in a harsh movement. His visual feeds experience another lagging skip. Of its own accord, his head tilts back, pressing into the pillows below as an electronic whine rips from his speakers.
It's the only warning Metal is given before Sonic's pace picks up. RAM recollection sends bursts of colorful particles arcing across his optics. The world narrows down to the rhythmic rise and fall of fire-hot pressure, stimulating his sensitive, synthetic nerve ends and making his processors go positively haywire.
"Man, it's--hnf--really something, seeing you like this... " The statement is accompanied by a hitching intake of oxygen, heavy with the odorants of sweat and sex.
Speaking is a tall order, especially given the error alerts filling his HUD with countless window boxes. Each one is closed without a second thought, to allow Metal full view of Sonic riding him into the mattress. His signature cocky grin graces his features, eyes fixated upon the badnik slowly falling apart beneath him.
A familiar burst of annoyance follows registration of the sight, perhaps in part to how often it was present during their battles. Regardless, his fingers dig into Sonic's hips on reflex. He doesn't miss the violent jolt the other hedgehog makes in his grip.
As soon as Sonic reaches the peak of his next thrust, Metal pulls him back down with all his augmented strength. The gasp it punches out of his lungs is worth the excessive redirection of Chaos energy in his drives. Everything becomes hotter, wetter, better.
"Ohgods." His movements stop, and he allows Metal to take over the rhythm. "Oh shit--Mets, harder."
Motors purr, servos whirr, and his hips begin mechanically bucking into the other. Warning messages begins flooding Metal's vision. He barely hears Sonic's answering cry over the whine of overworked fans filling his audials. The badnik clears away the error windows with single-minded determination. Even as more appear, and are subsequently dismissed, Metal keeps his attention rapt on the organic hedgehog shaking apart above him.
He's never seen the other like this in all the years they've known one another: fur drenched in sweat, spine arching in a perfect curve, head thrown back, and utterly blissed out. Just the sight boosts the heat curling in his chassis by a few dangerous extra degrees.
A shutdown looms, but Metals cares little for the rising warmth bordering on discomfort. More, harder. His plating could melt for all he cares so long as he gets more. Sonic's hand snakes down, landing upon his clit in a hurry, and rolling the fleshy pearl in small, but swift circles. His cunt clenches down, walls massaging him hungrily, and Metal can't--he can't-
"Ssssson--ic... pl--eassse... !" Metal can't determine what it is he begs for; sawtoothed words and broken tones hiss from his speaker in sharp bursts. Thought processes buffer and then crash, euphoria and light coil in his pleasure centers. Bright red warnings overtake his HUD like a swarm of flies.
Just as he thinks his system won't be able to handle any more of this, Sonic suddenly seizes above him with a shout, tumbling into shameless moaning. The moment it hits his audials is the moment the line of heat suddenly snaps.
Reward signals overwhelm him, radiating out from where they're connected. It feels like it's never going to end; the feedback loops over and over. Electricity, ecstasy, heat, all firing from every synapse at once, and a high-pitched, broken sound ripping from his voicebox. His optics plunge into a sea of static, euphoric and interlaced with yellows and cyans and magentas. Metal mindlessly fucks Sonic through his orgasm, chasing as much of his pleasure as he can.
And then it all suddenly stops. White noise dances across his optics. All the minor glitches that he had let run rampant through his system trigger into a cascading chain reaction of errors. Misdirected surges of Chaos energy leave his sensors raw with overstimulation, and all his subsystems demand, in no small terms, a reset.
For a few minutes, everything not vital to keeping his RAM and motherboard humming along goes dark.
Metal's video feed gradually comes back online, followed by audials. Sonic is rubbing a damp cloth from the bathroom across his slick-covered crotch plating and hips. In the neon-washed darkness, Metal sees something thick and white oozing from between Sonic's folds, soaking into the fur on his thighs. His gaze lingers upon the sight, right up until the other hedgehog notices he's finished rebooting.
"Are you okay, Mets?" He asks, tone tinged with relief.
The badnik tries to speak, but his vocal module won't activate. An especially insistent error window blinks in the corner of his HUD; a belatedly-noticed warning that it was on the verge of disconnecting. Other than that, most of his internal components seemed to have survived the power surge. Every synthetic nerve feels utterly spent, but accompanying this is an almost pleasant feeling; his reward center hums with satisfaction.
In lieu of words, Metal instead gives the other a shaky thumbs-up.
Sonic visibly relaxes, and moves to finish wiping the both of them down. By some miracle, his command prompt opens, and can run the needed program to withdraw the spent silicone organ back into its sheath. The mattress at last dips beside him, Sonic settling at his side with his chin propped up on the edge of Metal's jet engine.
Even after his voicebox restarts, Metal waits until troubleshooting finishes fixing the remaining glitches before speaking again.
"I enjoyed that, greatly." He states. Granted, the badnik would need to reoptimize his coding to prevent another unexpected shutdown, reset sensitivity levels, and perhaps acquire another processor upgrade to handle the onslaught of signals that accompanied this.
But these were things to be done another day. For now, the world narrows to Sonic's lazy smile and his sex-drunk emerald eyes. Hot air gushes from every vent he has in an imitation of a content sigh.
"Thank you." Metal finishes. The data gained from this is invaluable; next time, Sonic will be the one squirming beneath him. But perhaps the other hedgehog would look forward to that, as he leans in and presses another gentle kiss to his faceplate.
"You're welcome."
