With closed eyes.

The game starts as soon as he closes his eyes.

Today it’s fine. Today is one of those special days when things are different. Shadow isn't sure if he's looking forward to them or if he'd rather not have them at all.

But all doubts disappear as soon as Sonic leans in and kisses him gently. One touch of the lips - and he is lost, he drowns, and everything becomes unimportant. Everything, except this sweet feeling spreading in his chest, from which he freezes in anticipation. But Sonic is in no hurry - no, it's not time yet - and only leaves fleeting traces of kisses on his face: on his lips, cheeks, in the corners of his eyes, wherever he can, covering him with a net of light touches.

This is all he has now - only the touch - because he can neither look nor speak. Only Shadow is blind, but they will both be silent, and this is an integral part of the game, a ritual that should be followed, otherwise the spell will break, and neither of them wants this.

Sonic snuggles closer, pushing him into the bed, and Shadow gets hot from the warmth of his body and from the realization of his own role. Yes, he is only a follower, he is below, but these are the rules, and he himself gave his tacit consent when he closed his eyes for the first time. But he knows that this way the game will be especially gentle, and this covers all possible inconveniences.

He throws his head back and arches towards the kisses that move lower. The other's fingers burrow into the fur on his chest and begin to tenderly sort through the strands, while the lips examine the curve of the neck, then the shoulder and finally also reach the chest, burning it with breath. The tip of the tongue, making a teasing circle, touches the erect nipple, and Shadow doesn’t hold back a soft moan. He should be silent, yes, but the main rule is not to speak, the rest is allowed. But he knows that each new sound only accelerates events and he doesn't want it to end too quickly. After all, these days are rare and every second is precious in its own way.

A hot mouth wraps around the nipple completely, opening wide and giving more access to the tongue, and the hand moves to the second one, gently drawing circles with the pads of the fingers, pressing, pulling, squeezing, and Shadow feels how these movements echo in the groin, forcing him to move towards. But no, it's still too early, and the other hand stops him, pressing his hips down.

Shadow could have pushed that hand away, but his wrists are tied over his head so that he doesn't accidentally indulge himself. Sonic doesn’t like to be interrupted, and they both know what the black hedgehog really wants and with what pleasure he would become the host himself. The one who holds the hand up, touches his lips and then makes him open his mouth and greedily lick the fingers, covering them with saliva, with a clear awareness of where they will move after. 

But the game is not about that. It's about the languid sigh with which Shadow follows the fingers that leave his mouth. About an arching dark body, awaiting penetration in awe. About how he himself moves towards, shamelessly letting inside two phalanxes at once, and moans in a drawn-out manner, unable to endure any longer.

Sonic begins to slowly stretch him, spreading his fingers to the sides. He teases, at first plunges and then almost exits completely, and Shadow burns all inside and melts from every touch. This subtle torture drives him crazy, but it’s not enough and he longs for more, much, much more. The third finger joins the first two, and that's almost right. Especially when they bend over to gently massage that sweet spot inside him, sending a shock wave through his entire body, causing him to burst into a loud moan again.

As if he was waiting for just this signal, Sonic makes several sharp, almost rough, unrestrained movements, driving his fingers into him until the very end. It doesn't hurt, no, there is little that can seriously hurt him, but Shadow again acutely senses exactly what position he is in. He tightens, wrapping the fingers inside, and arches, lifting himself up, spreading his legs wider. Because it’s still not enough, and he is forced to ask, almost to beg, and this is the only thing that he can do in silence.

Sonic gently pushes him back to the bed. He leans closer, his hot breath touches his lips, and Shadow reaches out to meet him. Tongues meet halfway, intertwining, and they share a hot, wet kiss in which Shadow gives his all. It is unbearable to know that he is so close, that the soft tongue goes deeper, but then again moves away, touching only with the very tip, sharply, boldly, playfully, which makes him breathless and he shrinks in anticipation. He lacks these kisses so much that he is ready to dissolve into them without a trace, so long as they never end.

But Sonic pulls away, leaving him to bite his lips in annoyance, and straightens up, towering over him, sitting on the knees between his spread legs. He gently runs the hand along the inner thigh, all this time without stopping to move the fingers of the second hand inside, gracefully bypasses the groin and only fleetingly touches the skin at the very base, making Shadow shudder painfully in a desperate attempt to approach again. Sonic doesn’t give him this, but in return fulfills his other wish.

Fingers slide outward, leaving behind a feeling of pulling emptiness. But not for long, since almost at the same moment another feeling takes its place - hot and solid, slowly sinking inside. Too, too slowly, but Shadow cannot speed it up, and all that is left for him is to moan softly until Sonic enters completely and freezes for a few seconds, catching his breath. Then he lifts Shadow’s hips up and finally starts to move.

Shadow knows Sonic is watching. Watching, how wet slides out and again plunges in flesh into flesh, how he trembles, legs spread wide, stretched out under him, how his mouth opens, how his body arches, how unwelcome tears of pleasure gather in the corners of his eyes. And it turns him on harder, and he wraps his legs around the slim body, pressing himself closer, pulling out a restrained groan through clenched teeth, and the fingers on his thighs spread the skin apart, stretching him even more. Sonic knows that he likes it this way, he already knows a lot of things, and yes, Shadow is delighted, almost ecstatic from this feeling of hot fullness, from closeness, from the fact that it is him. And he wants to scream the name, but no, he shouldn’t, he mustn’t, and all that remains is to bite his lips, trying to keep this desire inside. The end of the game is close, and he must endure, because just a little more, just a little bit more, and he shouldn't ruin everything right now. 

A hot hand finally wraps around his painfully throbbing arousal and Shadow desperately gasps for air, almost out of breath, because everything freezed inside from a bright, intense feeling. The pad of the thumb touches the tip, smearing the flowing drop, as if running along a bare nerve, adding even more piercing notes to his pleasure. The hand moves in rhythm, echoing the movements of the hips and making Shadow think that he himself could be inside, and he involuntarily imagines what a blue body would look like riding on top of him.

This becomes the final point. With a loud moan, Shadow pours out onto his own stomach and chest, and a fountain of scalding, hot, viscous liquid erupts inside him, splashing out because he tightened himself too hard. 

Sonic pulls back, breathing hard. Through the noise of the pulse beating in his temples, the black hedgehog hears him taking another deep breath, calming down, and then humming contentedly, glancing around at him. He casually runs his hand over his trembling stomach, picking up a few drops, and Shadow realizes - that’s all.

Game over.

He doesn't want to open his eyes. But he must. This is also part of the ritual - the last and most difficult part. Agonizing and unbearably painful, but which he has to perform.

Shadow slowly lifts his eyelids to meet the gaze in front of him. Green. But not a deep sparkling emerald, no. This color is brighter, more dangerous, sharper and like acid it penetrates under his skin and eats away at him from the inside.

“Well, that was good. I hope you enjoyed it, Richie.”

Aidan smiles, licking his fingers, and Shadow feels another piece of his soul die.

The game is cruel, yes, but it is his own fault for inventing it.