Insolent: Chapter 4 (Finale)
Fandom: Sonic (MOVIE)
Pairings: Dr Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone; Stobotnik (reversed)
Warnings: Cuss words, bad description about what French kisses are supposed to look like
âThank you, Agent.â Stone replied sweetly, like he always does, and turned his head just enough to smile at the agent. Robotnik still thinks that Stone was trying to get under his skin in the literal sense.
***
âYour coffee, Doctor.â Robotnik said as he gently placed down a cold Americano, placing just far enough from the doctor so if he wanted to spin around the way he sometimes does, the cup wouldnât be knocked over.
Robotnik nodded once and backed away from where he was standing next to Stone, quickly returning to his desk to get some work done. Immediately, one of the doctorâs Pebbles â Robotnik named her Val â hovered over by his side and nudged him gently. The agent didnât pay any attention to her at first, but eventually gave in and let her nuzzle him and lay in his lap.
It has been a month or two ever since their first day on the job together. Robotnik remained the way he did, face always set in neutral and scowling at the slightest inconvenience. But despite that, he did in his very best to assist Stone as it still remains an important part of his job. Organizing emails and paperwork, cleaning up after the doctor whenever heâs too absorbed in his experiments and doing routine maintenance on the drones.
Sometimes, during late nights working in the lab and none of them felt like retreating to their respective rooms for some rest, Robotnik would leave unprompted and return with bags full of snacks and food from the convenience store. Stone had scolded the agent for that on several occasions when it first happened, throwing out reasons that Robotnik could care less about. Eventually, Stone did accept a paper ramen bowl with melted cheese on top.
For the entirety of that night, the pair ate and watched a few movies that were largely recommended by the great doctor. Most were horror movies which made Robotnik run back to his room just to grab some pillows and two blankets: one for him and one for the doctor. Many things were spilled that day, and Stone was sure his Pebbles were frustrated with their shenanigans.
Stone could say he was warming up to the always cautious agent. It was already fun messing with him, but even that got boring quickly. He resorted to other tricks, however, such as asking his agent to fetch him something and then promptly abandoning it. Stone was pleased whenever he could draw out a frustrated sigh or a silent curse from him. Sometimes, Stone would give Robotnik the task of taking care of his plants, to which he failed at, and Stone had to take extra time out his day to teach him how to properly put dirt into a pot.
Today was little to no different. With an iced Americano in hand made by his trustworthy agent, Stone scrolled through government secrets and past projects that were left in the dark like it was a stroll in the park. Robotnik never bothered asking about them, seeming more interested in sharing more detail rather than keeping them. A quirk that Stone loved about this agent.
His silent research was interrupted when the sound of Robotnikâs heavy combat boots approached him in a controlled manner. Stone didnât bother turning around as he continued to scroll through a sea of blacked out information that would be quickly revealed if he clicked on it.
âDoctor?â Robotnik called. From how loud Stone could hear his voice, he assumed that the agent was standing directly behind him.
The doctor didnât make a move to respond.
Another minute of silence before Robotnik sighed heavily.
âI know you can hear me, Doctor.â The agent said, placing a hand on the back of Stone chair. âThis is important, so I will beg and ask for your attention.â
Now that caught the doctorâs attention. Beg, he said? Stone wondered if he would actually do so.
With one easy movement to place his cup down, Stone spun around in his chair to face the annoyed agent. Hands tented, elbows placed on the arms of his chair, Stone spread his legs slightly to accommodate the agent who stood in between.
Robotnik reflectively flinched at the action, a dark blush coming to cover the tip of his ears. The hand that was previously placed on the back of his hand was still suspended in the air but was quickly placed behind his back after Robotnik realized how that looked like. Stone repressed a self-satisfied grin, eyes beckoning his agent to inform him about this important something.
âThe commander has called for a meeting regarding where youâre putting all that tax money he gave you and something else the old man didnât bother to specify.â Robotnik announced quickly, shoving the folder he was holding against Stoneâs chest in an attempt to distract the doctor from eyeing the flush on his face.
Stone glanced down to where the folder was pressed. As always, it was yellow with a bright red stamp in the corner to indicate that it had been looked through and deemed suitable to be handed out. The tip of a paper being held inside by a gold-colored paper clip peeked out, making Stone raise an eyebrow.
Usually they wouldnât bother sticking any additional notes into anything they gave him. Why now?
Taking the folder properly from his agent, Stone opened it like there was a miniature bomb inside waiting to be set off. Robotnik quickly removed himself from between the doctorâs legs, pulling out his shades where it was kept in his breast pocket and slipping it on his nose bridge.
âMy blueprints are involved.â Stone said matter-of-factly, passing the clipped paper over to Robotnik to read.
Robotnik did as he was wordlessly instructed, brows furrowing at the information he was provided. Stone crossed his legs as he observed how a few different emotions flashed across Robotnikâs face, the light pink dusting his face now completely gone.
Confusion, surprise, another flash of confusion, a tad of frustration before settling on an expression that screamed âWhy should I even care?â. How sweet of him.
Handing the paper back to Stone, Robotnik excused himself back to his desk to inform the commander about Stoneâs attendance. The doctor watched him go and sighed, getting up from his own seat to change into something more appropriate for a presumably important budget meeting.
Throwing open his dresser, Stone skimmed over all the clothing he had available. From simple shirts and oversized hoodies to something that female celebrities often wore at Met Gala. Stone wondered when heâll be able to wear such a thing.
Two drones entered his room with curiosity, clearly showing an eagerness in helping their father in picking a suitable attire for the day. Stone sighed affectionately, stepping out of the way for his two darlings to scan through the dresser theyâve seen more than a dozen times.
Outside, Stone could faintly hear the sound of something similar to waltz playing. He assumed Robotnik had turned it on to fill in the void of silence that he somehow couldnât bear.
After another minute or two, his Pebbles â Iris and Siri (he wanted twin names for them) â returned to his side with a sunflower yellow turtleneck, matching French purple waist coat and dress pants and a white trench coat. Stone smiled at their attempt to pick out something bright for him in order to make him the center of attention. Stone gave both drones a kiss on their hull before retreating to his bathroom to change. Luckily, todayâs weather had turned crisp last minute, which frustrated Robotnik because he hadnât had the chance to buy a new coat.
Buttoning up his waist coat, Stone spun this and that way, admiring how his color choice could really trick people in think he wasnât some prestigious asshole. He knew he would look like a sore thumb next to black and white formalities, but Stone could care less. At least he knew Robotnik wasnât an exception from this due to his bright red dress shirt.
Hmmm⌠Maybe he could touch himself up a bit. Just for the fun of it.
With just a few steps, Stone sat down at the small vanity desk he was able to afford at a low enough price so it wouldnât reach G.U.N.âs spending radar. Picking up an eyeshadow palate that he favored, Stone took exactly a minute to scan through all the colors before settling on a shimmery shade of heliotrope. At the very least, itâll make his clothing less dull in a way.
Shrugging on the white trench coat after he was done touching up his makeup, the doctor took one last look of himself in the full length mirror he had, turning on his heel and checking if there were any visible wrinkle on his clothes. The âwhiteâ trench coat complimented the turtleneck perfectly, making the coat looked more cosmic latte than white.
Stone sometimes wondered why he took psychology and then go out his way to learn about color theory (and memorize colors based on their shades).
Pulling on his chosen pair of footwear for the day â a pair of Oxfords with shiny golden laces â Stone exited his room with an air of confidence laced with the usually egotistic pride one might feel radiating off celebrities.
Robotnik was still sitting at his desk, blazer draped over the back of his chair while he checked on emails and organized the doctorâs schedule for the next upcoming days. Stone was almost concerned for the manâs lack of preparation for this assumingly important meeting.
âLetâs go, Agent. We wouldnât want Walters waiting for much longer.â Stone sighed and pulled on gloves with a color that matched his coat, waiting for Robotnik to remove his ass from his chair. The sooner they arrive and leave, the better.
âI thought you never cared about these meetings, Doctor.â The agent didnât even try to hide the grin on his lips, one hand coming up to smooth out his mustache. The damn shades are still on.
Stone wouldnât try to defend his ego if he knew that Robotnik speaks the truth. Instead, the doctor rolled his eyes and stalked off to a desk pushed up against the wall, not too far off from his workbench.
Sat there, as always, was the display that held the assorted shades and optical lenses he had. The unmistakable sound of Robotnik shuffling out of his seat to stand behind Stone could be heard, but he would rather not dwell on why his agent would rather stand so close to him all the time.
After another moment of consideration, Stone plucked a pair of golden half rimmed glasses with lavender lenses, holding it up to the light before securing it on his nose bridge. Robotnik hummed from behind him, either out of judgement or approval, it didnât really matter.
âAre we ready to go or not?â Stone asked sarcastically, watching his agent taking his sweet time putting on his blazer and smoothing out any creases. If he could, he would murder this man.
âOf course, Doctor.â Stone was almost familiar with the fact that Robotnik usually responded with short replies if he was feeling particularly antsy.
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The halls were deafly silent. No lowly agents wandered the halls with either stacks of papers in their arms or a stale cup of coffee. White walls made the halls look like a maze, black tiles echoing each step back to the ones who caused it.
It felt almost claustrophobic.
Stone approached the dark double doors, hands shoved into his pockets and face set to neutral. Robotnik followed close behind him, one hand holding a journal with a tattered cover and a pen in the other. The elevator ride up to here was almost excruciating, silence enveloped the pair like a thick blanket making Stone almost want to scream. Luckily, he didnât.
Robotnik quickly rushed ahead of Stone when they were close enough to the entrance, pushing open the doors for the doctorâs convenience. The room was already filled with people upon entering. Directors, generals and Commander Walters sat in chairs Stone assumed was assigned to them. Stone waved Robotnik off to stand behind him while he took his seat, rolling up the sleeves of his coat and leaning back more or less comfortably.
Commander Walters nodded once, stood up and began the introduction and opening, explaining the reason for everyoneâs presence.
Stone was unfortunately not interested it what the old commander had to say, eyes eventually drifting off to stare at the far wall. Robotnik dutifully noted down anything and everything the doctor wasnât listening to, occasionally eyeing Stone in case if he needed anything. Stone wished he had a reason to leave.
âMoving forward, I would like to apologize to Dr. Stone in advance.â Commander Walters announced in a rather pitiful tone, making Stone snap out his trance.
Apologize for what? And when had they ever apologize to him about anything?
Was it about the note they placed in?
Stone felt the need to sit straighter and more professional, not out of obligation but out of anticipation. Robotnik shuffled a little behind him.
âDoctor, we understand that youâve been working on the commissioned piece for a month now.â Walters said, now turning to face him. "But the tides had changed."
This felt like it was his fault that the project had to be brought up. He had avoided everything to keep that a secret according to the said requirements from the government official that commissioned it.
Stone felt like it was Waltersâs fault that he was here.
The doctor could hear his agentâs journal being closed shut and neatly placed back into his inner breast pocket. He could see out the corner of his eye the way Robotnik was fiddling with his pen. Robotnik was nervous but not in the way everyone else was. He was expecting something to happen, he already knew what would happen.
And stillâŚstill he brought Stone here.
Stone could feel his own body tensing up, feet planted firmly on the ground and ready to move at any moment.
âThe project had been called off and any evidence of the project including the model and the blueprint should be discarded of. The sergeant who had requested the project had deemed it to be too dangerous and may be stolen for purposes that it was never intended forâ Walters explained to him in a voice Stone couldnât quite read. He still held a pitiful expression on his face. âSo, in short, itâs no longer necessary for you to continue forward with it.â
Some generals sitting in the table hummed in acknowledgement, directors looked towards each other but not a single word was passed between anyone.
Without another second to lose, Stone slammed both of his hands down on the dark wooden table, stood up and stormed out the room without another word. Eyes trailed after him, their voice whispering judgement and despise. Commander Walters had the nerve to call after him but didnât dare to follow him.
Stone could care less now. He didnât have to care anymore. Make him waste a whole moth, working his ass off day and night just to ask him politely to burn it all?
And he thought he was the crazy one.
The doctor quickly adjusted his glasses before he continued stalking down the fairly empty hall of G.U.N.
His steps echoed but never lasted long, his hand were in fists tightly by his side, nails digging half-moons into the meat of his hands. Even if Stone wanted to stop for just a moment to check if his makeup was smeared or if anyone had accidently stepped on the tail of his coat, he couldnât find it in him to stop.Â
âThose goddamned idiots.â Stone muttered to himself, his strides becoming longer and quicker. ââItâs not necessaryâ they say. As if theyâre the doctor.â He was sure he could hear his teeth being grind against each other in his skull.
âIâm going to kill someone.â Stone wished that was true, that he was speaking his own intentions out loud. But considering the many false report of âworkplace harassmentâ he had received, Stone was forced to play nice and by the rules.
Quickly turning the corner, the tension burning in his shoulders wore off disquietingly fast as he slumped against the wall, leaning back heavily against the surface behind him. Stone just knew there would be stains on his clothes that he would have to scrub off himself.
âNow I can take a quick break.â He muttered to himself, gloved hand rustling around in his pocket for his stress relief.
Stone almost forgot he would often shove full pack of cigarettes into all his coats just in case. However, the box he pulled out was already half empty, all the sticks leaning to one side of the box. Stone pulled out one and placed it between his lips before shoving the box back in his pocket, absentmindedly sucking on the shred of nicotine while looking for his lighter.
The lighter he pulled out was a fancy little thing, with a spider lily in the front while a series of butterflies covered the back. He couldnât properly remember where and when he got it, but the feeling of pride upon seeing it never really lost its spark.
Unfortunately, looks doesnât always account for ability. Stone thought the lighter could still be used, but after trying to ignite his cigarette it was clear that this one hasnât been refilled yet.
âFuckingâŚStupid lighter.â He tried a few more time, already understanding his efforts were futile but desperation said otherwise.
Just as he went to try again, a black gloved hand appeared in front of his and pulled his cigarette away. âApologies, sir, but smoking is not permitted inside.â The person who pulled his cigarette away said, voice smooth and controlled.
Great. Just what he wanted to hear.
Suddenly his anger was hitting at full force again, making his skin feel clammy and hot inside his trench coat. He was heating up too fast, the turtleneck and the coat barely seemed necessary anymore.
âHey! Do you know who I- Oh.â Stone immediately stopped mid-sentence, anger dissipating into a bubbling mess in his brain. âItâs you.â The recognition was deadpanned at best.
There stood beside him was Robotnik, his agent-slash-assistant-slash-personal bodyguard, someone he never asked for. Although both of their attire looked relatively professional, Stone could tell that the older man was more put together than him, showing an air of calmness that he absolutely despised whenever he was mad. The agent held the stick of nicotine between his fingers â his index and thumb â gently, clearly not having any intentions of crushing it or tossing it away. Stone adjusted his glasses to sit on top if his head, one hand subconsciously running through his hair in an attempt to tame it.
âStand down, Agent. Give me back my cigarette and leave.â Stone sighed and looked away, holding out his hand with the expectation of his cigarette being immediately placed there.
âIâm afraid I canât do that, sir.â Robotnik stated, spinning the cigarette so it sat neatly in his fist instead of being held loosely by his fingers. Stone gritted his teeth at the empty apology, shoulders tensing up again. He really needs a big, fat break after all of this was over.
âI saidâŚâ Stone started, glaring daggers at the man beside him. âGive me it!â Stone wouldnât say he failed at his only attempt at getting his cigarette back, he had just been a bit rusty.
The cigarette was moved away from him in one quick motion, almost making the doctor tripped over himself. A self-satisfied smirk laid comfortably on Robotnikâs lips as he stared down at his boss. The nerve of this agent.
Dignity be damned, he needed his cigarette. As soon as Robotnik decided to use his height advantage and raise the cigarette above his head, Stone quickly latched on and reached out on his tiptoes in hopes being able to take the cigarette back.
âJust give it to me! I am your superior!â Stone commanded though he knew it wouldnât work. Shame might as well swallow him up and leave no trance behind after this.
âNope, canât.â Robotnik chuckled low in his throat, grinning down at his superiorâs fruitless attempt at taking back what was his. âI am here to keep you safe and healthy, even from yourself.â Robotnik knew he wasnât permitted to actually make sure the doctor didnât burn himself out, but it felt nice to fool around a little.
Stone grunt with effort as he reached as high as he could, almost regretting not wearing platform shoes if he knew something like this would happen. He grabbed onto Robotnikâs lapel in attempt to pull him down. The agent didnât budge. A weight Stone didnât realize was there settled on the small of his back, holding him up against the agent with little to no force. No doubt Robotnik was trying to feel him up or mock him silently.
Stone diverted his attention back to the smug face of his agent, knowing the taller man probably felt full of himself at the moment. Robotnik smiled down at him, a false sense of calmness and a tinge of mischief lacing his stare.
After engaging in that short and momentary staring contest, Stone cheered to himself as he could finally reach up high enough and grab hold of his cigarette. Robotnik kept his expression neutral, as if too in denial about his defeat. At least that little game was over.
âWell, forgot those orders for now.â Now it was Stoneâs turn to smile mockingly at his agent, relief spreading over him in small waves. âI donât need a baby- âStone smiled to himself, opening his palm to hold his cigarette in a way he would much prefer. âsitterâŚâ
Laid in his hand was not, in fact, the cigarette he was hoping to see. Thick paper stick, round and wrapped in plastic at the top, a cartoonish grape image plastered to its sides: a lollipop. He grabbed a lollipop.
Stone frowned at the sight of the sweet in his hand, the previous wave of relief already doing its job at eliminating any remaining frustration in his body. He did not want to put up with anymore of this.
âSomething wrong, Doctor?â
The doctor cautiously glanced over his employee, witnessing him placing his cigarette between his own lips but making no move to ignite it. His eyes were casted to the floor, pointedly avoiding the doctorâs own bewildered expression. Stone couldnât bring himself to punch his agent across the face, purely because he could feel his social battery draining.
âI heard lollipops were healthier.â The mocking tone didnât escape Stone. Rather, it gave him a little energy boost knowing he would have to take his cigarette back one way or another. The fact that Robotnik even had the nerve to state that lollipops were healthier than cigarettes almost made him scoff. Theyâre equally unhealthy, in Stoneâs opinion.
Though, that comment did give him an idea.
With a barely suppressed grin spreading across his face, Stone quickly strided over to Robotnik with newfound motivation. Robotnik mustâve noticed his change in mood as a neutral expression settled over his smug one from before.
Without a second to react, Stone grabbed ahold of Robotnikâs lapels firmly, tugging the taller man down to eye level. A nearly pathetic noise of surprise escaped Robotnik, but Stone decided to dwell on that later. The manic doctor surged forward and was immediately met with soft lips.
Robotnik was reasonably shocked, several questions racing in his head from his bossâs sudden course of action.
Stone harshly bit the agentâs bottom lip in order for him to open his mouth. And open he did. He wasted no time plunging his tongue into the more or less welcoming invitation, forcing himself to explore Robotnikâs mouth if he really did want his plans to go the way it needed to be execute. Stone mentally tucked away a complain about his agent not being a good kisser.
Robotnikâs mustache tickled his upper lip. Stone nearly wanted to abandon his mission when the sudden realization that he was practically exchanging saliva with his agent, but determination could get you far. Stone hate to admit it, but Robotnikâs lips were softer than he expected. This old man must have a real complicated skin care routine.
Even without Robotnik vocally addressing the situation, Stone knew they were both running out of breath. He didnât need to prolong this anymore; he got his cigarette secured in his mouth already. But, with how his agent was treating him a few minutes ago, Stone supposed he could indulge in a little teasing.
The unexpected kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity, though in reality, it only had been a minute or two at best. Stone forced them apart, pushing Robotnik back while he still had his iron grip on the agentâs lapels. A thin string of saliva was the only remaining evidence of their intimate exchange.
The look that beheld him was almost laughable if shame wasnât gripping by his neck. Robotnikâs glasses were crooked, nearly falling off his face. Not a hair out of place, but Stone could see how his cheeks were tinted red and the wrinkled that he had left on his lapels. His lips looked kiss bruised, an evident swollenness on his bottom lip from when Stone bit him. Robotnik looked, to put it simply, disheveled.
âNever think you can outsmart me, Agent.â Stone said confidently, adjusting the cigarette in his mouth. âGot it? Dismissed.â He wouldâve stayed for the reaction, but the taste of nicotine in his mouth reminded Stone of his much-needed stress relief.
****
Robotnik could admit he wasnât thinking straight. Ever since he started working for the doctor, he had to come to terms with things he hated to admit to himself.
But this was different.
Did the doctor just kiss him? Was that an elaborate plan or was the doctor doing it for fun?
Even with his high IQ, Robotnik couldnât fully wrap his head around the matter.
Dr. Stone kissed him. On the lips. With tongue.
Oh god, is he going insane now?
For a moment, Robotnik just stood there, replaying and analyzing the kiss in his head. He tried to not let his mind wander into dangerous waters, but it seemed like, even if it was his own brain, it still would.
All he intended to do was fool around. He doesnât really care if his doctor did drugs much less smoke. Robotnik never intended for a little teasing to end up like that.
Heat spread across his cheek, bloomed in his chest and making his body felt like an overheating oven. His shoulders tensed up, legs suddenly feeling weaker than they were a few minutes ago.
Placing both hands on his face, Robotnik backed up against the wall and slumped down, accepting the fact that he had to sit on cold dirty tiles. He could feel his blazer riding up his back. Robotnik let out a sigh, his emotions unclear and scrambling in his mind.
Glancing down at the weight that was slowly making itself noticeable in his hand, the agent noticed the lollipop that the doctor had grabbed laid in his palm still wrapped.
Robotnik huffed and unwrapped the candy, eyes never quite focusing on the action he was carrying out. Who knew that he would receive a first kiss at this age, much less from his employer as well?
The artificial grape flavor did little to ease his shame and worry. The candy was sweet, sure, but the flavor of it almost made Robotnik threw it away if he wasnât so in need of a distraction.
Tilting his head back against the wall, Robotnik propped on of his knees up and rested his arm on top. Not a single thought floated by his brain until the telltale sound of the conference roomâs doors opening up could be heard.
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Waaaaaaah, I'm finally finished with this! Oh god I'm so tired
Anyways, hope y'all liked the fic! Be sure to check out the original creator's work because this AU isn't mine but I decided to write a silly fic about it
Link to the original post that inspired chapter 4














