Drabble request: Sonic and Tails. Who does the cooking?
"Tails! I grabbed some chow – come eat!" Sonic called, having just zipped through several towns to make sure the grub was hot.
"Give me twenty minutes!" Tails called in from the workshop he hadn't outgrown, but certainly had packed to the brim with creations.
"You said that at four," Sonic reminded, now casually leaning in the doorway, arms crossed. "And at six. Come on, I got shrimp pad thai from that spot Amy always made you get the tofu one at."
And that stalled the soldering iron in the inventor's paw. "It's– " Tails flipped his visor, checking his wrist communicator. "Huh?"
"It's nine, buddy." Sonic glanced around the room that seamed to change by the hour, whenever Tails was home from the city. He really had the biggest lab now, and yet this was where he built his prototypes.
No one to bother him, fewer charts to get caught up on optimizing, easier headspace. Sonic knew it was just because Sonic knew how to mind his space, wasn't trying to pester him for attention like all the people he'd hired to keep up with him.
A gold triangle twitched at the smells drifting in, attention slipping.
"Did you get spring rolls with the fish sauce?" The fox asked.
"Yeah, and they're still hot," he enticed, watching conflict fall over his brother's face at leaving his bench when he hadn't reached a stopping point. Like he'd know one if it looked him in the face.
Tails looked from his older brother to the head plate of his newest detection unit, seeing how leaving it as-was would place extra stress on the joints – which would be fine if he wasn't so harsh on his 000 builds.
"TV's loaded up with Drop Out. The guys are improving Shakespeare or something, the clips looked fun."
Tails stomach growled, kicking itself into gear now that his head was catching up with time and space.
"Are you saving someone's life?" Sonic asked.
"Not... imminently... I suppose." He'd grown used to heat up meals, and freshly grilled shrimp did sound good.
"Alright then," Sonic stepped in, upping the fox with a wave of his hands, an impatient brow. "Then up – eat."
So, Tails put a pin in it, a standby screw to keep the unit from the added stress.
He was home, after all.
