Work Text:
It was times like this Robotnik wished he listened better.
Perhaps not in general, but at least to the babble that would come out from the man laying before him, who's blood was gushing out onto the pavement from the blast wound he had sustained when saving Robotnik's life again. Because it was certainly possible that so carelessly placing his own life on the line every day to protect the doctor was enough to earn his ear every now and then. But maybe now is not the time for contemplation, considering he is desperately pressing the agent's own jacket into the wound in a feeble attempt to stop significant injury.
If Stone is going to survive this; he needed a blood transfer. Right now. Actually, probably a few minutes ago, but Robotnik has yet to master time travel so now would have to suffice.
But Robotnik has no idea what his blood type is. Because he doesn't listen.
The situation is rather dire. Robotnik almost thinks he may have to let this one go - accept the loss and go through all that horrendous paperwork Walter's throws his way every time some government dog dies under his watch. He can't really ascertain why he has committed to prolonging Stone's life for even this long, if he is honest.
Beep beep.
"Aha! There you are!" He exclaims with relief, watching as two of his less damaged badniks approach them. They have the bare bones medical supplies Robotnik will need to drag Stone away from the light until help arrives. Including a cooler filled with various blood packs. He clicks his fingers. "Bring up Agent Stone's file."
He almost smiles at the sheer amount of redacted information displayed, all the text harshly blacked out. Far more of the data on his agent is hidden than is readily available, though most of it is rather inane - as he discovered one slow Sunday afternoon when he had decided to hack into the encrypted files while Stone was away (not due to his own choice, merely because they were limited in how many hours it was legal for Stone to stay there working each week).
His agent's dubious past aside, Robotnik begins to skim for what he needs. Full name, who cares. Past missions, even more boring than the redacted ones. Gender, race, blah, blah, blah. Intelligence. Robotnik snorts, finding it ridiculous G.U.N. bothers to record such a detail on their workers. What is the point when they are all of such a low mental calibre-
301?
He rubs his eyes to refresh his overworked mind. Robotnik must've been the one who was hit- or in a coma-- or some alternate reality-
301.
The number refuses to change. It is as clear as anything. One point higher than his own.
He wants to scrutinise it further, question what the hell is wrong with that file or how someone that clever has become some listless underling obeying Robotnik's every whim.
Then his eyes turn to Stone.
Oh, yes. Still dying. He, for once, decides his quandaries can wait another few hours. Quickly flicking through more pointless notes, he finds what he was looking for.
AB. Universal receiver.
Robotnik groans at the complete waste of time, grabbing a blood bag at random and swiftly setting up for his bastardised version of surgery. If Stone is such a genius, surely he would be up to date on his vaccines.
It had been a few days since Stone had made his full recovery, and Robotnik was certain that the IQ score displayed on his file was not a mistake. There was no clerical error in recording it, or issues with the test being changed, or the agent cheating somehow. It was completely legit.
But that didn't matter, the doctor decided. IQ tests were incredibly unreliable, he had always known that. Of course it would have required some intelligence for Stone to have scored so highly but... Robotnik has all the empirical evidence he needs. A man that spends his days whistling tunes as he prepares lunch or cooing to badniks as if they were pets and not ruthless killing machines was no adversary to him.
But, to be sure, he begins shoving tests in Stone's direction.
Everything that he has been forced to fill in during his own developing years by lecturers and government agencies hoping to measure and contain his true potential for their own benefit.
Each time his agent throws him a confused glance, then smiles and promises to do them to the best of his ability.
And each time Robotnik discreetly takes one himself.
He scores better than the first time he did them, purely because he is genuinely trying this time around.
And yet always falls just behind Stone. It's unthinkable!
"Do you consider yourself intelligent, Stone?" He drawls lowly one late night they're up working, sat together at the doctor's desk. His agent appears surprised, hesitating a moment before answering.
"I've been told as much, sir." The man settles on. It is such a non-answer it peeves Robotnik. He prods Stone in the arm sharply.
"Common imbeciles would find a bag of radishes sufficiently intelligent, Agent Stone! Conjure up your own opinion."
"Hm.." Stone drags out. "I suppose so. Nothing compared to you though, doctor! I could never build the empire that you have here." He says with a smile.
"Right you are, Stone." Comes out on auto-pilot. But is that right? Perhaps Stone could build his own robotic army, given the funding. A more efficient, better looking army, Robotnik thinks bitterly. He finds himself lost in thought over what the Stone Empire would look like. One of the few things he knows about the man is that he is more partial to purple than the doctor's aggressive red theme so-
"Doctor?" Stone pulls him out from his contemplations. "Is this about those tests you've been giving me?"
Damn. He was getting obvious.
"Are there new responsibilities you want me to take onboard?" The agent asks, clear enthusiasm and excitement bleeding into his voice and expression. "Because I really think we could improve efficiency if I handled minor repairs on the badniks - then you could have more time free for bigger projects and-"
Robotnik tunes him out, eyeing his faithful sycophant as he talks his way into receiving even more burdens at work than he already as. To becoming more indispensable than ever before-
Robotnik tries not to let the fury show on his face. So that's it, he thinks, a light bulb going off in the back in his mind. Why build his own kingdom when he can steal mine?
"I don't know if you have really earned it." He hedges. Anything to close down this conversation, after his world has been flipped upside down so suddenly. Stone's eyes turn downtrodden and pathetic.
"But, sir!" He protests. "I can handle it I promise! I can covertly come in a few extra hours on Sundays so our usual schedule isn't affected. I know all the security cameras and scanners to avoid." And of course no mention of asking for a pay raise. Or even for the extra hours to be reimbursed.
Admittedly, maybe Robotnik was a little quick to jump on the betrayal line of thinking. When has Stone ever done even the most minor thing that went against the doctor's interests? The man was far too dedicated for it to be healthy. Robotnik grabs him by the chin and drags his face closer to him. The agent's expression is filled with hope and enthusiasm and a complete lack of reluctance.
"I suppose you do a sufficient job as a barnacle." He murmurs. Stone beams as if it the lukewarm comment was the highest praise he could ever receive. Yeah, okay. Either Stone deserved every insipid acting award on the planet or he really is the biggest suck-up to ever grace this earth. And he was Robotnik's great big suck-up. He squeezes the man's cheeks. "But if you dare consider slacking at any of your responsibilities even slightly-"
"I wouldn't dream of it, doctor." Stone breathes. At times, Robotnik wishes he were a little more like his name-sake because in moments like this he was far too transparent. It was like he could read every thought crossing that sycophantic face as if it was one of his quantum engineering textbooks from when he was eight. Ah, simpler times.
"Good boy." He responds with a wicked grin, letting go of his agent's face - not missing the disappointment that flashes in those eyes. "You might just live through my robot uprising after all."
Hah. Stone, a traitor. As if.
Robotnik decides to keep tabs on Stone. Intelligence tests are deeply flawed, they cannot truly measure how smart and capable someone is. Only their achievements can represent that.
Of which he has many! Hung up on the lab walls and in his home. Most of which are regularly cleaned by his grinning agent as he prances about the place as if he owns it. Robotnik watches him now as he cleans up an oil spillage from the floor, seeming no less happy to do it than he is to be doing anything of actual importance. Anything to be around the doctor.
"Stone." He calls. The agent immediately drops what he is doing to give Robotnik his full attention.
"Yes, doctor?"
"Do you know how long we have until the meeting with Walters?" He asks with false curiosity. He knows this, of course he does. As he knows everything. Stone checks his watch.
"Twenty five minutes. Should I prepare you a latte to-go?" Robotnik waves him off, then rethinks it. Coffee does sound good right about now.
"Yes to the latte. No to the to-go." Stone tilts his head curiously, confused, and Robotnik smirks. "I don't feel like going. You're familiar with the prototype, aren't you?"
"Well... moderately." Stone replies, clearly taken aback. "But I-"
"Excellent!" Robotnik interrupts. "Twenty minutes is plenty to familiarise yourself with the inner mechanics!" He declares, rubbing his hands together gleefully. His agent looks like he wants to argue against the decision, but decides against it and sighs with a nod.
"You can count on me, sir." Robotnik rolls his eyes. Stone's admiration is welcome but often overbearing. He must learn to reign it in, honestly.
"Chop, chop, then!" He claps loud in hopes of startling Stone, but, as usual, his feathers remain un-ruffled. "No time to dawdle. Make that latte. Learn the exceedingly complex engineering principles behind an incredible piece of weaponry made by the best mind that ever lived. What's wrong with that?"
Stone hurries to the lab's kitchenette.
"Oh, and take a badnik with you! I don't want to miss any spectacular failure!"
"Yes, doctor!"
Robotnik reclines in his seat, the badnik's perspective of the meeting the biggest screen in front of him, as he idly waits for the less important people to hurry up with their presentations so Stone can finally have his turn in the limelight. Robotnik does have to hand it to him - the agent doesn't even break a sweat sitting there about to give a presentation he is in no way prepared for. He messes around haphazardly with the coding for his gloves, working on the finishing touches of a new feature he is implementing to better the non-verbal communication he can have with his babies.
It has been a long wait so far. And an irritating one, because Robotnik is aware that if he was in that meeting himself he would have told the other dullards to zip it so he could show off first then head back to the lab. He wonders if Stone wishes that had happened as well.
"No Robotnik?" His eyes snap to the video, all other screens tossed aside so he can give it his full attention. Doctor Robotnik to you he thinks petulantly, drifting away from his desk momentarily to grab the bucket of popcorn he had prepared for himself.
"It's doctor," Stone corrects, his smile a perfect picture of polite and condescending. Attaboy! "And he is currently preoccupied with prior commitments, and asked me to present in his stead." Robotnik finds himself grateful he is enough of an asset to never have to bother with pleasantries.
The next thirty five minutes leave Robotnik gobsmacked, his popcorn forgotten before he even made it halfway through and his eyes sore from staring at the display on screen for so long without blinking.
Stone... knew every single detail about that prototype. Which was impossible to be something he had garnered over the months Robotnik had toiled away on it because the doctor was very possessive about his inventions. His assistant was only admitted to his workspace when he needed coffee or tools. Meaning he had learned all that in less than half an hour with just the doctor's chaotic notes and diagrams to go off.
This put the matter to bed once and for all.
Agent Stone was a genius.
Robotnik is not entirely sure what he is without his intelligence.
Rude.
Belligerent.
Apathetic.
Selfish.
Cruel.
Faced with someone who works beneath him being smarter is difficult to come to terms with. Because what is Stone doing here?
What had Stone been doing his whole career, in fact? If he knew he was so incredibly clever wouldn't he seek more than being a mere bodyguard or assistant?
Perhaps G.U.N. had hidden it from him. Like...
Robotnik had.
Oh dear.
He felt dread curl low in his gut as he watched Stone preparing the lab for his departure at the end of his shift. His usual smile was even brighter than usual, his ego apparently boosted from how well his presentation to their superiors had gone. And it had gone well - much better than Robotnik's always did, which almost always ended in a shouting match or someone becoming injured, with no one in the room really understanding what invaluable information the doctor had been forced to share with them. Stone had not only captured the complexity of the project with all the correct technical terms and engineering concepts, but had even dumbed down the crucial aspects enough that even their most dim-witted 'peers' could comprehend.
It was baffling.
But if the agent was truly on his level. Possibly even an equal. Then, as much as Robotnik hated for anything to change, he had to inform him. He just hoped Stone's resignation didn't tank his productivity too harshly.
"Did you know you were smart?" Robotnik asks, because how could he ever start a serious conversation without drama and sneering sarcasm? "Not monkey smart. But proper, noteworthy, intelligence?"
"Sir?" Stone approaches him, baffled, neglecting his duties of polishing the last of the badniks.
"Do you know your IQ score?"
"Ah..." Stone scratches the back of his neck, hesitant, as if embarrassed by this. Robotnik stands from his chair dramatically, meeting his assistant in the middle of the lab.
"Well?"
"301, doctor." He responds. Robotnik arches a brow. So it wasn't hidden from him. This life is a choice.
"And you know mine, right?" This question was a redundant one, but Robotnik wanted to push his point with it regardless. Of course Stone knew. Robotnik boasted his impressive score any chance he could get.
"...300."
"And yet you are content to work under me? To do all the grunt work and thankless jobs for - as the man who writes your pay checks - a pittance of what I get." He sneers.
"Sir... I'm not too interested in money. I don't have much to do with it to be honest." Stone takes a breath. "And your knowledge and skills are incredible, but they're not why I'm drawn to you."
"They're not?" He says quietly, and Stone barrels on as if he had not spoken at all.
"And I suppose I could go off on my own but I don't want to." Robotnik huffs, frustrated. Does his sycophant expect him to simply take his word for it? Ridiculous.
"Why, though?" He asks, finally, the question that has been nagging in the back of his skull for weeks now. "You don't need to ride my coattails for success. I loathe to even consider it but you might even do better on your own! Why bother with me?" Stone blinks, and his face goes contemplative for a quiet moment.
"Before I met you, sir," Oh God. Is this a backstory? How Robotnik hates exposition. But if the man in front of him really is this smart... maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear him out. "I didn't want anything. I didn't care about my job, or my life, or my future, it was all just. Boring. Everything I forced myself into doing was more tiring than the last, no matter how 'extraordinary' or 'thrilling' it was meant to be. I felt about the same level of excitement sitting at my desk as I did defusing a bomb. So I couldn't have done what you have. That's why I'm drawn to you. I've never had a fraction of your ambition." Robotnik bites his lip, mulling the information over. So that was why so much of his agent's file was blacked out. He would do anything to escape the mundanity of humanity. In a rare occurrence, the doctor found himself relating to the sentiment.
"And now you do?" He prompts. Stone beams with a quick nod.
"From the moment we first met, doctor." He replies. "I knew you would change my life. And you have."
"You make it sound like..." Robotnik stalls, unsure what to settle on with all the conflicting ideas flying around in his brain.
"Like?"
"Falling in love." Stone hums, pursing his lips together. His hands fidget in front of him.
"I suppose I did." Robotnik blanches, unsure if he is grasping the statement correctly. He had more said that with the intention of wry amusement but Stone is dead serious. Not with any sort of heaviness, but a completely matter-of-fact expression that is not to be bargained with.
"I'm not going to treat you differently." He clarifies, not even sure why he is doing it. For once in his life there is no strategic tactic arranging itself in his head to yield optimal results. It is only him and Stone. He takes a step closer.
"I don't expect you to." His agent says, sounding as unsure as to where this is heading as Robotnik himself is. He matches Robotnik nonetheless, further bridging the gap between them with a step of his own.
"You're still my assistant. I'm the genius. Me." He points at himself demonstratively. Stone smiles.
"As always, doctor." There's a relief that comes with the utterance of such a statement, something that the doctor didn't even realise he needed to hear yet his assistant effortless offered up anyway. As always.
He's not really thinking when he reaches for Stone's tie, tugging the man roughly towards himself before turning them, herding Stone to follow his whims as he takes several more paces towards the lab's metallic wall. A soft thump sounds as Stone's back hits the surface, with less force than when the doctor is scolding him, but certainly not gentle. The look in Stone's eyes is dark and all-encompassing, and far from asking for something as inane as gentle.
Robotnik smirks, far too confident for his own good. He leans in, their foreheads bumping.
"So this is why you stick around." He states smugly.
"I- it's more that I respect you and your work, doctor, I wouldn't-" The doctor sighs in his agent's face at how - even in this situation, and with such a high brain power at his disposal - the man is still this dense. But he supposes he likes it really as he shuts the man up with a biting kiss.
It's a remarkably effective deterrent from foolish rambling, one Robotnik will have to take into consideration for future instances. Stone gasps quietly and is quick to reassess the situation, from defending his attraction to the doctor to shamelessly indulging in it as his arms come to wrap around the man's shoulders. Robotnik's own hands drift downwards, slipping beneath his assistant's jacket to pull him in by the waist. He slots their mouths together more firmly, trying not to grin too obviously at how Stone flounders to catch up.
Robotnik is soon reminded of how adept the man before him is at adjusting to new scenarios. The kiss deepens when Stone manages to find his own footing, responding to Robotnik's offensive with soft nips and a welcoming body that just invites him to sink into his hold further. It is all the things Robotnik has previously despised about locking lips with another person - soft, wet, warm; yet with Stone it is horribly addicting. He thinks that some part of him should be revolted by how the spit slicks their mouths as they lose themselves further to it, yet the only feeling he can detect is a hopeless craving for more. Robotnik has no clue how he went on so long not realising his own desires. And he feels a bit silly that this is what it took to open his eyes to it.
He cannot ascertain if it is love.
Is too caught up in softness and heat to properly consider remotely anything right now. His brain abruptly dipped into a vat of dopamine and serotonin that fries all the components related to logical thinking.
But he reckons it is something close to it. And they have plenty of time to figure that out.
There are more important things in this present moment. Such as how the hand Stone had snuck into his hair grasps tightly after Robotnik attack his lower lip with a sharp bite. His assistant lets out a low needy groan of which he is swift to take advantage of, tongue darting into his partner's mouth with great enthusiasm. There is no space left between them, they're pressed together from chest to thigh, hands tightly grasping for contact that has been absent for years. Robotnik finds himself reeling with the onslaught of new data.
When Stone's nails scrape through the hairs at the back of his neck, creating a pleasant tingling sensation all the way down his spine, Robotnik idly thinks that they should have done this years ago. When pressing his own thigh between the agent's legs results in a high whine being emitted right into his mouth he thinks they shouldn't have wasted that time either and this should have happened on the day they met.
If only Stone... told him.
He breaks the kiss, a thin line of spit still connecting their mouths as he leans back. Watching a panting Stone instinctively chase his mouth with a tilt of his own head despite the pressing need for more oxygen almost makes him consider leaving the interrogation for another time.
But who said you couldn't combine two passions into one?
A hand reaches down and begins working on Stone's belt buckle.
"Stone." He says, effortlessly drawing the man's eyes as he meets them. They're as wet and pleading as he has even seen them, leaving him more hot under the collar than he would have expected. Robotnik takes a mental note to explore that further later. Likely later this evening, if all goes to plan. "Why did you never think to mention this little..." He drags down the man's zipper. "tid-bit?"
"What?" He asks with a swallow. Robotnik tuts.
"Remember what we were just talking about?" Stone lets out a small oh in realisation, or perhaps it is in response to how Robotnik's hand drops into his trousers to feel him through his underwear. "Well?"
"We-well..." His assistant stutters, red and sweaty, doing his best to concentrate while his boss rubs slow circles over his more sensitive areas. "I assumed that you- hmm- knew already.." He pants out, hands coming from around Robotnik's neck to grip unforgivingly onto the arms of his coat. Robotnik briefly worries for the strain this will have on the fabric before continuing.
"Assumed?" He repeats cruelly, bringing his mouth to beside his favourite agent's ear. Robotnik lowers his voice, grinning at how Stone shivers at just the breath curling around his earlobe. "I thought I taught you better than that." His mouth hovers over his assistant's neck, over skin that his work shirt collar fails to cover up. "We will just have to clear up a few things tonight, won't we?" He says, before digging his teeth into willing flesh, relishing at the depraved sound it provokes and how Stone shamelessly presses into his touch.
This will be a very productive evening for them both, he thinks.
And his mind can be put to rest. So what if he isn't the smartest man in the room anymore? Agent Stone isn't going anywhere.