Work Text:
Opening the coffee shop back up wasn't a hard choice, but it was one that Stone had taken a while to execute. What felt like an eternity ago at this point, in the time between Dr. Robotnik's banishment from Earth and his return when he first opened up the shop, it had gotten fairly popular and provided Stone with a decent income, but more importantly, gave him something to do. Making coffee had been an art form he fell into, quite literally; the extent of Stone's barista skills had been pouring hot water over a tea bag before Robotnik had started giving him pop quizzes on eccentric (yet brilliant, might he add) combinations of ingredients in his daily "quench of caffeine". What Stone had been worried about with reopening was a significant drop in customers and a tarnished reputation due to… well… some damaging events that were from some time ago yet still very fresh in the residents of Green Hills' minds.
Fortunately, that hadn't happened. The Mean Bean Cafe resumed smooth operations upon its reopening. On most days, there was a decent showing, and Stone recognized many regulars from its first iteration. Business was efficient; Stone made sure of it. He worked alone, managing the counter, keeping it tidy, and though it was a lot of work for the average person, it wasn't nearly as much stress as his previous job. He could handle orders with ease while still finding himself getting bored in between things to do.
In fact, Stone wasn't sure if this would be enough to keep him on his toes in the long-term. It always felt like something was missing. 'Something', he thought, when he knew exactly who it was. The impatient, cranky morning costumers could never dream as being as entitled and demanding as the doctor. He missed the constant whining in-between genius blueprinting, the dramatic breathing against his neck as the doctor waited on him, or the more recent development of his cackling at whatever soap opera he was watching.
Ironically, the feeling of absence never left him. It hadn't budged in months. And, when it got too strong, the Mean Bean suddenly closed for the day. Stone couldn't help it. He didn't think he did this too frequently, but he noticed the regulars start to pack their things when he rushed from behind the counter a smidge too hastily. He'd never been labeled as an unreliable employee, but these days, he always ended up surprised when the keyword was nowhere to be found in his shop's reviews.
Today was a little different than his sudden closing procedures. Instead, the shop had never opened up. Stone had been halfway through sweeping the place to get ready for opening when his arms gave out and dropped the broom. Picking it up had suddenly seemed so daunting of a chore. Instead, he ran his hands across his face, let a much-needed exhale leave his mouth, and sat down cross-legged to join it.
It was moments like this, where he wasn't even sure what triggered it, that he gave up hope of ever moving on. This was silly, he told himself. The doctor would laugh at him for wasting time like this, especially at work. Unreliable, his mind supplied, though not in Robotnik's voice— in his own.
A rattle at the doors finally snapped Stone out of it. The doors were made of glass, but Stone's vantage point was awful— all he could see was a distant figure now taking their hands off the handles after trying for a second time. Instead of leaving, they moved their hands into their pocket, fishing for their phone.
As they held up their phone to their ear, the Mean Bean's phone rang at the counter. Stone pushed himself off the ground, walking slowly to the counter as if there were weights around his ankles. Despite the challenge, he picked up the phone. His work persona took over on autopilot. "Mean Bean Coffee."
"Heyyy, it's Wade." Stone glanced toward the doors. Right, that was Wade— how had he not recognized him before? Had his mind been that far away? Maybe that was hindsight bias. Stone knew at least that he would have recognized the man's voice right away. "Listen, uh, your front door's locked."
"Right." Stone had to take a second, surprised at how hoarse he sounded; he should have grabbed some water. Now that he thought about it, he did feel a bit parched. "That's because we're closed today, if you'll check the sign on the door…"
He saw Wade's head look up and down, side to side, finally gesturing around clumsily when his eyes caught the 'CLOSED' sign hanging on the door. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, no, I knew that, because I totally didn't miss it like an idiot when it's right there." Wade stopped flailing his arm around to scratch his head. "But that's not a thing that normally happens, right? I mean, you guys aren't gonna start staying closed on a Saturday morning at… 6:55?"
"Five minutes before opening, we should be. But…" Stone paused. His voice led heavy. "No, this is not typical."
The 7am opening time posted on their hours was more of an inside joke at this point. Stone tended to finish preparations around 6:30 and, with nothing else to do, opened shop soon after. With his ever increasing lack of sleep, that time seemed to be getting earlier and earlier these days.
On the other side of the line, Wade remained quiet. Then, Stone narrowed his eyes as Wade pushed his head against the glass, peering in… not like a spy, as that would require some sort of strategy, but not like a criminal— in a curious yet strange way only Wade would. Perhaps like a child looking into a zoo exhibit. His head tilted as he rambled on. "Something wrong, then? Like, you need me to fix something… and by that, I mean, call a repairman since there's no way I can touch any of that fancy barista stuff without breaking it, but I can be pretty good entertainment until someone actually arrives—"
"While I appreciate the thought," Stone cut him off, "nothing needs fixing."
"Then what is it?"
Stone wasn't sure how to reply.
"Uh, I can come back later if—"
Wordlessly, Stone made his way to the door.
***
Stone and Wade weren't too close, Stone thought.
Ignoring the whole 'Wade attempting to interrogate him after seeing his secret evil lair and offering him a plastic display bagel' thing, Wade was a returning regular at the cafe. Stone wasn't sure why he'd return— maybe it had been too long and the ever-cheery Wade had brushed past it, or his coffee was just that good (the latter looked more feasible). During the week, Wade would come in an hour or two after opening to get a coffee and pastry on his morning shift. On the weekends, he ordered the same, but was usually there only a few minutes after Stone opened the doors.
Aside from his coffee habits— which he should be very familiar with as a barista— Stone only knew a bit about Wade. He knew that Wade was close with Knuckles. The two had apparently gone to Reno for a high-stakes bowling tournament (though Stone was more intrigued by the chaos with those rogue agents and the Buyer that Wade had only briefly mentioned in his tall tales), and now the echidna joined him Friday nights for Shabbat dinners on the occasion that Wade went to visit his mother (which were not the weekends Stone saw him bright and early Saturday morning). Wade was also into other sports. He had recently started training for ice hockey with gear he found at a thrift store and was looking to improve his fishing skills next time he went with Tom Wachowski (who Stone needed no introduction to).
…Alright, it may have been more than 'a bit'. Working at top clearance in the government for a while, especially under Robotnik, meant that Stone was trained to retain every detail he overheard— but the fact that he remembered all this when Wade constantly talked at him (read: rambled) while picking up his food and drink still surprised him. Wade talked, and he never stopped.
The quiet awkwardness from Wade now was uncharacteristic but not surprising in this context. Stone didn't know what he himself would do in this situation, with a barista who refuses to do his job and tell him what the problem is, but he can tell Wade was just itching to say something.
"So. Uh," Wade impressively started, "Everything okay?"
Stone knew how he wanted to answer that one, though it took no effort for him to hold his tongue.
"Is it, uh, let's see— something missing? Did someone break in? I can help with that," Wade went on. "Or, cleaning up?" he asked, crouching down to pick up the broom as they walked by it. "Wait, don't tell me— it's spiders." Wade screwed his eyes shut as tight as the grip he now had on the broom's handle. "Sorry, bud. I cannot do spiders."
Stone sighed.
"Listen, man, I need something to work with here. You sound pretty stressed—"
"I have no idea why I let you in here."
Wade grappled for words as Stone stopped walking. They had reached the barista counter, and Stone wanted nothing more than to sink into it. He settled for resting his hands on its edge, intently facing the menu as if he were in the role of an indecisive customer. Wade's stare on him did not go unnoticed. "Uh, well, because… something's wrong and you needed someone familiar and super-capable, might I add, to help out so you can open up shop or just… feel better?"
Stone's grip on the counter suddenly felt weaker. His arms shook for just a moment.
"Oh god, I'm making it worse," he heard Wade whisper under his breath. He picked up his volume, which wasn't too much louder from before considering how audible his previous statement had been, pointing a thumb behind him. "I can leave if you want. I'm, I'm so sorry. I really appreciate that you let me in since I'm one of your frequent flyers, I mean I'm pretty sure I am, but that doesn't make me entitled to—"
"No, you're right."
And Wade, who was not used to hearing that phrase directed at him, went, "Huh?"
Stone was not crying. He had already shed too many tears over the doctor— tears that would be better shed over hard work, he knew. His voice, though, distant and horse, still sounded like it, and the sleeve rubbing at his face certainly looked the part.
"You're not entitled to be let in just because you're a regular." Before Wade could start sputtering, he continued. "But, the company is…"
Making me feel better, he couldn't voice, but it seemed that Wade had gotten the point. "Oh, yeah, I totally get it." Wade started to wave his hands around, leaning his hip against the counter. "I mean, that's why I like going out. I've got my co-workers to hang around with, Tom— who, is a co-worker, yeah— Knuckles, Sonic, Tails, but when I'm home I'm just, super alone. Sure, I can put on the TV to mask the feeling, but it's this super crippling feeling of loneliness— like when my dad left us in a TJ Maxx, and when he turned out to be a huge disappointment after I saw him again, it feels like, abandonment and isolation, since, you know, it's just me in that big ol' house. And I think the same sometimes when I see you here, actually, since I never see anyone else working with you, and I'm like, how does he survive a single workday without anyone to chat to? 'Cause I know if I didn't have anyone to crack jokes at on my shift, I'd lose it. And you always have that weird look in your eyes, like you're trapped in some internal monologue with the pointy text bubbles and all…"
Stone listened. It's probably been too long for Wade to really connect the dots— or, at least, he connected the dots and dismissed the possibility. Six months should be plenty for someone to get over loss; Stone wasn't sure why he hadn't already. Maybe his grief would be proportional to the years spent working under him. Though he had taken in Wade's words, surprised by how much they made his chest sink, Stone replied with, "You've been watching me?"
"I mean— it sounds creepy when you say it like that. I've just… noticed? Yeah, that's a good way to put it," Wade grimaced. "Not that you're not someone I would watch— okay, still sounds creepy—"
Stone narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"It's, probably not important right now," Wade replied in a higher, embarrassed tone. His face flushed, but Stone didn't give it too much thought since he'd been nothing but awkward this whole time (though his mind did linger on it, for whatever reason). "What is important is that I'm trying to figure out how I can help you and I still have absolutely no idea except for rambling my butt off."
Stone didn't have time to reply. That was a lie. He had plenty of time to, but his mouth opened and closed like a fish. Wade was the one who broke the silence.
"Do you want a hug?" Wade opened his arms.
Stone stared.
"...I'm just, gonna—" Wade walked closer, stopping in front of Stone. His arms awkwardly hovered around him. "I'm just gonna give you one. I think you need it."
The hug was mediocre at best. Stone had not moved his arms; he hadn't even shifted his body. Wade was soft, though a tad slimy despite the air conditioning. Stone could feel every particle of tension through the stiff arms around his back. When Stone thought he couldn't make it worse, Wade started to pat his back before pulling away.
"...Thank you," Stone distantly found himself replying despite the disorientation still reeling from that very strange hug. (Maybe not that strange; he could chalk up his reaction to his lack of them. He couldn't remember hugging anyone in the last six months.)
"Wow, really? That is not what I expected to hear— you know what, no problem," Wade replied. "Hey, you wanna grab breakfast or something? On me. I was planning to get something here, but since you're closed, we could hit up a deli or something. If you still want the company, that is."
And Stone, who had not expected to leave the building until nightfall, said, "Sure."
Stone had thought frequently about loneliness and departure, but he hadn't expected to ever act upon fixing it. He especially hadn't expected someone else to notice. The idea that Wade had been paying attention to him didn't make him self-conscious, but it did leave him wondering what sort of other tells gave his bad days away. Did he get fidgety? Were his replies sharper and more curt?
If Wade noticed, it apparently hadn't driven him off. The thought left him… a bit less lonely than before.
While the pain he had woken up with hadn't fully gone away, the morning spent with Wade had at least helped him out. The Mean Bean Cafe never opened that day, though. Stone took the day off, idling around with the idea of hiring employees even though he didn't necessarily need the help.
Oh, and brainstorming conversation topics for the next deli date they made plans for. Not that Wade needed much help running his mouth.
(Deli date? Why had he called it that?)