The clink of silverware against ceramic faded into the background as Sonic leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms with a satisfied sigh. Across the table, Shadow sat with his hands wrapped around a cooling cup of tea, his crimson eyes softened by the warm glow of the kitchen lights.
Dinner had been good—simple, comforting. The kind of meal that didn’t need fanfare, just the quiet presence of each other. And yet, as Sonic watched Shadow absently swirl his tea, he could tell something was off.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Sonic teased, resting his chin on his palm. “I can hear the gears turning from here.”
Shadow huffed, but the usual bite in his tone was absent. “Hmph. Is it a crime to think?”
“Nah, but it is when you look like you’re carrying the weight of the world.” Sonic tilted his head, studying him. “What’s up?”
Shadow hesitated. He wasn’t one to voice uncertainties—especially not ones that felt so intangible. But Sonic knew him too well to let it slide.
“…I don’t know,” Shadow admitted, setting his cup down. “I’m happy. Being with you—it’s everything I never thought I’d have. But lately, I’ve felt like something is missing.”
Sonic’s ears twitched. He hadn’t expected Shadow to say it outright, but now that he had, Sonic realized he’d sensed it too. Their life together was good—great, even. But there was an unspoken space between them, something neither had put into words until now.
Sonic leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “You know,” he started, voice thoughtful, “I’ve been feeling kinda the same way. And I think I know what it is.”
Shadow met his gaze, waiting.
“A kid,” Sonic said simply. “I think… maybe that’s what we’re missing.”
Shadow’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening slightly around his cup. He hadn’t expected Sonic to say it, but the moment the words left his lips, something clicked.
A child.
It wasn’t a thought he’d entertained before—not seriously. But now, sitting across from Sonic, the idea didn’t feel strange. It felt… right.
“…You really think so?” Shadow asked, his voice quieter than usual.
Sonic smiled, his expression warm. “Yeah. I do.”
Shadow exhaled, running a hand through his quills. The idea was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It was something new, something neither of them had ever considered before. But as he looked at Sonic—his partner, his home—he realized that maybe, just maybe, this was the missing piece.
And for the first time in a long time, Shadow felt like he was standing on the edge of something incredible.
That night, as they lay in bed, the conversation lingered in Shadow’s mind. Sonic had fallen asleep easily, his breathing steady and peaceful, but Shadow lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The thought of adoption had taken root, and now it refused to leave.
By the time the first rays of dawn filtered through the curtains, Shadow was already up. He slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Sonic, and made his way to the living room. Settling onto the couch with his laptop, he began searching for orphanages nearby.
The more he read, the more his determination grew. He scanned through profiles, read about adoption processes, and bookmarked places they could visit. He had never imagined himself as a father—but now, the idea felt less like a distant possibility and more like a path he was ready to walk.
Sonic woke up to the sound of typing. Groggy, he shuffled into the living room, rubbing his eyes. When he saw Shadow hunched over the laptop, his expression shifted from sleepy confusion to surprise.
“You’re already looking into this?” Sonic asked, blinking.
Shadow barely glanced up. “Of course. If we’re doing this, I want to do it right.”
Sonic stared for a moment before breaking into a grin. “Wow. Didn’t expect you to be this fired up about it.”
Shadow finally looked at him, his expression serious but warm. “I want this,” he admitted. “I never thought I would, but now that we’ve talked about it… I do.”
Sonic’s heart swelled at the honesty in Shadow’s voice. He plopped down beside him, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Well, guess I better help, huh?”
Together, they spent the morning researching orphanages in their area, reading about different programs and requirements. Sonic was amazed at how thorough Shadow was—he wasn’t just skimming, he was absorbing every detail, making notes, planning.
By the time they finally pulled away from the screen, the sun was high in the sky. Sonic stretched, his stomach growling. “Alright, research is great and all, but I need food before we go running around town.”
Shadow smirked. “Fine. Breakfast first.”
They ate together, the conversation flowing easily between bites of toast and sips of coffee. There was an excitement in the air, a shared anticipation that neither of them had felt before.
And when they finally stepped out into Station Square, side by side, they knew they were about to take the first real step toward something life-changing.