Work Text:
Fuckthrust flew through the air as Sung clumsily wobbled back and forth, trying to process what was happening. Phobos looked at the keytar as it begged to be saved, caught as to lessen the chances of it being destroyed, smashed onto the ground into little pieces. For a second, Phobos felt himself tilt forwards towards the direction of the airborne instrument.
Then he stopped.
Phobos plucked at the strings as time seemed to slow down, then it completely paused. He saw Fuckthrust in the air, seemingly floating almost supernaturally. He could be the hero, he could be the saviour, but that would be foolish. Foolish to save a simple instrument as it is to save a simple planet. He has no control, the chances have it and they hold it above Phobos’ head like jingling car keys to a baby.
And dammit! He almost swooped in to save it! Almost tricked as he had been before. Had he not learnt his lesson? How was he supposed to grow? To change is to restrict yourself, which meant he couldn't save his best friend's favourite instrument.
So, Phobos continued playing his guitar, sticking his feet to where he was standing. Finally, time seemed to resume. Fuckthrust went from flying through the air like an angel to falling quickly. Phobos stared at Fuckthrust as it struck the floor, a loud, painful crash emitting from the collision. Phobos slightly winced at the sound as he waited for Doctor Sung to obtain his beloved instrument.
God, he was glad he didn’t save that goddamn keytar.