Drabbly Scrounder Drabbles of Drabbletude
100-ish word introspects on the relationship between the two robot lackeys Scratch and Grounder. Through hate, like, put-up-with… and love somewhere along the line. Scrounder.
A/N: These are in a random order because I didn’t write them chronologically. That’s a good thing, because they don’t really link to each other apart from pairing and overall gay.

Win
These days, Scratch was the only one who still cared about the deep-seated sibling rivalry between him and Grounder. He assumed the latter had lost competitive spirit because he was more focused on catching the hedgehog.
In reality, Grounder had long since resigned himself to a partial defeat. He assumed that because he thought Scratch was smarter, taller, prettier (but only just) and overall quite wonderful, his master would follow suit.
Sure, it would be nice if he were Robotnik’s favorite henchbot. But at the end of the day it didn't matter who won.
Scratch had already won Grounder's heart.

Restraint
As soon as he realized his unnatural desires for Scratch, Grounder felt the need to restrain himself from accidentally going too far too quickly. He risked upsetting or confusing his brother by jumping guns like that, so why take the chance?
The first day, it was easy. After that, it took more effort to stop himself from confessing. At one point he broke the radio's volume dial from trying to avoid that line of conversation.
It had gotten to the point that he was going to break if he didn't tell all soon.
Luckily, Scratch couldn't restrain himself anymore either.

Stupid
Despite, in the grand scheme of things, not having very high IQs, Robotnik's lackeys were smart enough to understand the following:
- The sky always changed colors.
- Sonic was an arrogant goody-two-sneakers.
- Dr Robotnik yelled at them a lot for messing up.
- Coconuts was a good target for teasing.
- It hurt when they fell down a mountain.
- 'Dumbbot' was comparatively not an insult.
- Never underestimate Momma Robotnik.
- They loved and understood each other better than everyone else.
- Scratch was a good kisser, Grounder was not.
Those were the few consistent facts of their lives. What was not to understand?

Break
Lately, Robotnik's lackeys had been taking a lot more breaks. Not so many that they weren't working, but enough to arouse suspicions. What could they possibly be doing in their spare time that warranted anything less than circadian work hours?
Every time he checked the CCTV, they appeared to only be channel-hopping. And yet they were always unnaturally distracted afterwards. It was most perplexing.
Then, one particular day, he accidentally switched on the TV-room camera a little too early for the bots' liking. The compromising position they were found in on the sofa told Robotnik all he needed to know.

Hurt
Ironic that the less clumsy bot was a masochist? Possibly.
OK, technically not a masochist as such, but for some reason ever since the whole Chaos Emeralds debacle, he'd picked up a strange pleasure from having each metal-feathery wing skewered by a nail, nails which were then removed by the capable hammer hands of Grounder.
The other always felt a little guilty while doing it. Don't get him wrong, he wanted Scratch to be happy and everything… But at the same time, he didn't want to hurt him too much.
Ironic that the clumsier bot wished to be gentle? Definitely.

Taunt
Scratch and Grounder were the scapegoats of robotdom. But Grounder was the scapegoat's scapegoat.
Whenever they snuck in Robotnik's suitcase to annual scientific conventions, the tankbot got much of the aggression from fellow machines. “How do you even function in society, boltbrain?” was a popular inquiry.
This would only have affected Grounder superficially had it not been for this: Scratch always joined in the taunting. When it came from him, it hurt deeper. He often cried at these things because of it.  
Then the elder took everything back during the home journey, and both of them felt a little better.

Kids
When it came down to it, the avian robot had an unusual paternal instinct. It didn't stretch to the extent of not crushing children underfoot as readily as elders, but he did secretly inhibit typical baby reactions when said babies weren't wreaking havoc.
It was partially this instinct that made him agree to the prospect of making Robot with Grounder. The other 'partially' was the fact that kids are a manifestation of love between two people. Uh, robots.
Ergo, if agreeing to this project didn't get Grounder to see Scratch's feelings, he didn't know what would. It just made sense.

Perfection
Typical early Saturday mornings for Scratch and Grounder consisted of any of a variety of activities. Sometimes it was being curled up on the sofa with a TV cartoon; sometimes it was playing cards and arguing over who had the Joker; sometimes it was taking a sneak peek at their master's latest scheme for whatever, which almost always ended up in destruction or anything involving the Russian alphabet.
Either way, they always spent it together, in one of the few instances that sibling rivalry was irrelevant and tasks unimportant.
With mornings like this, they often wondered, who needs anything else?

Costume
The two lackeys were like the two 'heroes' in the sense that they sometimes resorted to wearing disguises and various outfits to suit a task.
Spacesuits for outer space; chilli-dog seller robes for hedgehog hunting; purple things for blending in with grape people... They had a whole wardrobe of similar attire.
Grounder liked it best when his brother cross-dressed or wore police uniform. The former made him feel better about the initial sexual attraction, whilst the latter created intense electrical sensations inside his circuits.
Scratch liked it when his brother wore anything, even nothing at all. Go figure.

Unsee
Coconuts, the leftover robot, had a coping mechanism for rarely-encountered disturbing scenes: pretend he hadn't seen them. Sadly, nobody can unsee some things.
This latest sanitation duty eavesdropping had proven just that. Having only just heard the strange turn the conversation between Scratch and Grounder had taken, he'd covered his eyes and ears in almost-protest. But the implications still got through. Needless sexuality. Cliches. The L word where it wasn't needed.
Eventually, he'd just hightailed out of the place. Not getting the latrines sufficiently polished was worth getting away from the grossgrossgross making out that he was convinced would ensue.

Location
Making an excuse for a kiss being longer than it should have been once was fine. Making the same excuse twice was just asking for trouble.
To be fair on Scratch, the first time around the excuse did apply, albeit in a last minute sort of way. It had been on there for so long that it really was starting to freeze. So it technically could have worked again the next time, if only he'd chosen a location that was slightly more 'appropriate'.
Somehow, claiming his beak was frozen to Grounder's nose-cone didn't work in the Mobian deserts. Huh.

Nerve
The constant dressing up as girls to get the attention of others.
The “I know what boys like boys like me” approach to dating.
The strange obsession he had with kissing males.
The cheesy catchphrases that could have been taken straight out of the “Edgar Eagle” campy 60s movie.
The on-the-fly way he delivered said catchphrases.
The intuitive affinity he had for carpets that clashed with drapes in Robotnik buildings.
And Scratch had the nerve to call Sonic “flamboyant gay”?! Grounder would have chuckled a little to himself at it if it weren't...
Well, such an attractive quality.

Ignorance
Scratch knew he had fallen for Grounder. Sonic knew too. Robotnik knew, albeit whilst in denial. Throbbin' Screech definitely knew (if he hadn't before, he did now).
Only Grounder himself didn't know, much to Scratch's irritation.
When Screech had casually approached the subject during the smaller robot's sting as boom operator, he pooh-poohed the idea instantly. “No, Scratch is more a 'long-legged lady' type; he wouldn't be interested in little old me. Besides, he hates me too much.”
Scratch would have squawked in protest against this had it not been for Robotnik shoving another shoe in his mouth.

Cycle
The more Grounder was obsessed over Scratch, the more hedgehog-hunts he wanted to go on with him.
The more hedgehog-hunts he wanted to go on, the more he tried to impress his brother and his leader.
The more he tried to impress, the more often he screwed up.
The more often he screwed up, the more Scratch hated him.
The more Scratch hated him, the more he obsessed over unobtainable Scratch; and the more he obsessed over Scratch the more hedgehog-hunts he wanted to go on etc etc.
It was a vicious cycle, one that Grounder couldn't wait to break.

BOOZE
Believe it or not, this was only their second tryst with alcohol. The first time they tried the concoction, their bodies were so intolerant to it that they fell apart after a few swigs while Sonic gloated to an invisible audience.
This time, they knew more about what to expect, but it still only took a bottle apiece before they became silly, selfish and dizzy.
And, honestly, a little reckless.
So it was that they found themselves waking up in the same bed the next morning, both with splitting headaches, sore abdomens and memories of having confessed true love.
Awkwaaaard.

Glomp
At first, Scratch only started leaping into Grounder’s arms whenever he was frightened to the point of sheer hysteria by Robotnik’s impending wrath.
Then the sensitivity turned up a bit, with him making the jump whenever he was frightened at all.
Then he started leaping whenever there was even the possibility of being frightened. Disguise getting flimsier all the time much?
But somehow, it wasn’t until today that he jumped into Grounder’s arms without even bothering to hide the fact that he just wanted the contact of metal on metal.
Oh my god just please don’t ever let me go.

Nickname
Scratch liked to think he had quite the reputation with certain dating aspects. He’d even created a little title that he went by.
When he was having a not-so-good ego day, he tried to find someone to assert this positive nickname and give him a boost. But because that involved actually having experienced the eponymous body part, only a few could testify anyway, and most of those… negatively.
Therefore, although it was slightly bias, only Grounder stuck up for him. And he’d definitely had enough experience to know that the other lived up to the self-claimed moniker of “Silvertongue Scratch”.

Imperfect
Don’t let the fluffy drabbles fool you. Scratch and Grounder’s relationship wasn’t perfect. Sure, they were the closest they’d ever get to constant companionship, but they still had pet peeves about each other.
Scratch licked his fingers before turning comic book pages. Grounder never kept the entrance to the bedroom clutter-free. Scratch got elitist on certain topics and wouldn’t let anyone get a word in edgeways. Grounder made spittle when he laughed, “gross-face”. Other little things that drove them up the wall.
But since their pros far outweighed their cons, they found it in themselves to put up with it.

Worry
Whenever his robots took damage that a head screw couldn't cure, Robotnik repaired them separately in a little en-suite room. This caused some quite justified worrying for he first fixed.
See, Robotnik sometimes had bouts of… adjustment. When particularly incensed with his creations, he threatened to wipe the memories of at least one and just start them from, ahem, scratch.  
They always worried for the other that he would carry out his threat, and the robot coming out would not be the same robot they went in.
If they didn’t remember each other… they couldn’t even imagine it.

Denial
As far as Robotnik was concerned, Scratch and Grounder didn't have time for love at all, let alone with each other.
They'd said so themselves: "Love? Euuurgh." "Gag me with a piston." Ergo, it had to be true - they never lied to him, or at least his face.
Love was meaningless, a malfunction in any system. Love was a cliche. Robotnik's badniks were designed to sideslip and subvert cliches, not invoke them.
The carving lovehearts subconsciously cliche, the exiling to the couch... didn't apply here.
Yup. His definitely heterosexual robots were not in love with each other.
...
He hoped.

Distraction
Sonic had evaded their grasp the past few times. This time, though, Scratch was ready for him.
Waiting roadside to spring the trap, completely focused on the task at hand.
Eyes exclusively on the road.
...Then eyes mostly on the road, occasionally stealing a glance at Grounder.
...Then eyes only slightly on the road, thinking about what Grounder would look like not naked...
Then eyes not on the road at all, eyes gazing across the body of the blue bot as he lay stretched across that bed, beckoning... Ooooooh yeah.
"Um, Scratch? Why did you let him get away?"
...Fudge.

Regrets
Ever since that fragile moment when a lever that shouldn’t have been pulled was, Scratch and Grounder had had their ups and downs with each other.
Their initial sibling rivalry, while gradually burning slower, started strong and was even now flickering in embers. And there were times when one could’ve strangled the other for that simple mistake.
But the good times were ever increasing. Unrequited lusts made requited. Fetishes fulfilled, moments shared, jokes made, those short kisses behind master’s back.
So despite everything, if given the opportunity to stop their brother’s creation, neither of them would take it.
No regrets.