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"Hey, that one kinda looks like you!"
Sword was pointing at something, and Rocket looked over—only to come face to face with the ugliest ogre toy he'd ever seen.
Without hesitation, he jabbed Sword in the chest and threw a rapid combo of light punches and kicks.
"Ow! Ow-ow! I was just joking!!" Sword yelped. "Okay, but seriously, you think I should buy this one?"
He held up a small dog stuffed animal. Its fur was so fuzzy it looked like it had just been struck by lightning. Was that a design choice, or had it barely survived the dryer?
"Dude, no way! It's 4,000 bux! Also, it's ugly as hell. I bet I could sew you a better one," Rocket replied.
Sword giggled and placed it back on the shelf.
"Yeah, I guess it's a bit overpriced. Also, you can sew??"
"Mhmm.. kinda? Dad forced me to learn 'cause I kept coming home from practice with ripped clothes," Rocket said with a shrug.
"Oh, yeah, same! I used to be super clumsy and always scraped my knees or tore something during training."
"Used to be clumsy?"
Rocket shot Sword an unimpressed look as he watched him pick up a pile of teddy bears he'd accidentally knocked over.
"Th-this wasn't even my fault! You bumped into me!"
"Sure."
Sword pouted as he put away the last bear back on the shelf, then glanced out the store’s entrance.
"Alright, it looks like it's getting dark so we should probably head back."
The two stepped outside and were immediately met with a cool breeze. Rocket glanced up at the cloudy sky and let out a sigh.
"Tch. Looks like it's gonna rain soon."
Sword grinned as he tossed his hood over his head. "Race you back?"
Rocket shot him a sideways look. "Do you really think you can beat me?"
But before Sword could reply, Rocket set off sprinting down the sidewalk, laughing uncontrollably.
Sword huffed out a breath and quickly took off after him. "Hey! I didn't say to start yet!"
They wove through the street, dodging passersby, poles, and trash cans.
"Sorry, uh, excuse me!" Sword called as they pushed their way through the crowds.
He knew Rocket wasn't slow, but he became increasingly frustrated at his inability to catch up.
Zuka's house wasn't too far now—he just had to turn a corner and—
"OOF!"
Sword had crashed face first into Rocket's back, which send the two toppling over onto the sidewalk.
Rocket panted as he got back up, shoving Sword off him like he was a a filthy animal covered in fleas.
"Ugh...well, looks like I win!" Rocket held a smug expression as he reached a hand out to help Sword up.
Sword slapped it away. "Not yet! The finish line's the doorway!"
He scurried back up and was about to start bolting towards the door, before he got a heavy kick to the shin.
"ARGH!" Sword face-planted again, onto the sidewalk before turning back to tackle Rocket.
They immediately forgot about the race and the rain as they grappled on to one another like a pair of feral animals.
Rocket managed to get Sword into a headlock, grinning wickedly as Sword flailed. Sword elbowed him hard in the ribs and Rocket let out a sharp breath, but kept his grip. They rolled onto the street, and Sword had somehow wiggled free.
The two scrambled to their feet, cursing, laughing, and still throwing wild punches, when someone heard the commotion and swung the door open.
"...What the hell are you two doing?"
Zuka cringed as he looked at the chaotic tangle of limbs before him. The two just giggled as they helped each other up, and Zuka turned back into the house.
Suddenly, Sword felt a few drops of rain hit his face and glanced up at the looming clouds. Rocket scrubbed the raindrops off Sword's face with a rough, careless motion before tugging him toward the entrance.
"Come on," he said, leading the way. "Before you melt."
Sword shot him a glare before pulling away, shuffling through the doorway. He held his arms up in triumph.
"Looks like I'm the winner!"
_________
After dinner, Rocket leapt into the couch and buried his face deep within the cushions, ready to drift off to sleep.
Sword grabbed at him and attempted to yank him off. "What are you doing?? You can't lie down after eating!"
Rocket groaned as he clutched at the arm of the couch, refusing to budge from his position.
"Let go of me!"
"No way! You're gonna mess up your digestion!"
With one heavy push, Sword managed to send Rocket tumbling onto the floor.
"Ow, SWORD!" Rocket yelped. He immediately got back onto his feet, snatched a pillow, and began whacking Sword. "That. Freaking. Hurt!" he shrieked between hits.
"STOP- STOP! I just saved your life! Your digestive system was about to explode!!"
"THATS NOT HOW IT WORKS!" Rocket pounced on Sword and he went tumbling back onto the floor. With his newly acquired weapon, he pushed the pillow down into Sword's face and rounded off the corners. Sword retaliated against the suffocation and rolled over to his side, squirming to become freed from his oppressor.
They wrestled wildly, arms flailing back and forth to grip control of the other, elbows and knees jamming into each other at weak points. Neither of them were willing to give up.
Sword just barely managed to grab Rocket by the waist, using both arms to swivel him over. Rocket used his sole to stab Sword in his stomach, but the effort didn't seem to do much. He was soon pressed down into a locked position against Sword's knees.
"GET OFF ME, YOU MANIAC!" Rocket shouted. He used his only remaining free arm to scratch and claw at Sword’s back, or dig his nails into his forearm.
Sword grunted but didn't let go, tightening his grip and twisted Rocket's hoodie until it nearly choked him. Usually, at this point, Sword would've let go and declared the fight as his win, but he held a grudge for the suffocation he endured prior.
Rocket panicked as his breaths turned into wheezes; time seemed to slow as he contemplated how to win this losing battle. At some point, he even considered summoning his gear...but was that too excessive?
Using his final remaining energy from a burst of adrenaline, Rocket head-butted Sword's forehead.
Both were stunned by the echoing sound of a solid crack of their skulls colliding.
Rocket recovered faster, smirking as he cuffed Sword's wrists and slammed him against the couch skirt. Sword grunted, glanced back to make sure his helmet hadn’t torn the cushions, and body-slammed Rocket into the opposite direction—
—straight on top of the coffee table.
CRASH.
Before either of them could even register what had just happened, the table splintered apart, with bits of glass flying towards them. But somehow, not a single shard had scraped their skin.
Then came the slow, ominous sound of footsteps.
The stairs creaked as Zuka stepped down the stairs, eyes drifting from the wreckage to the stunned guilty duo.
The two were still dumbfounded, frozen in fear as they waited for their judgement.
Sword was still hunched over with his hands gripping on Rocket's shoulder, and Rocket's torso was twisted over, his leg awkwardly held up in a offensive position.
Neither of them moved from the uncomfortable stance. They shared a matching appearance, with shame and guilt plastered onto their faces.
In the end, Zuka said nothing, just looked at them with an intimidating expression and trudged back up the stairs.
After a long minute passed in silence, Sword finally remembered to breathe.
He toppled back on top of Rocket out of exhaustion.
The position they'd been locked into just moments ago had been aggressive and full and irritation. But now, with the fight drained out of them, it felt...different.
Sword was sprawled across Rocket's chest, their breathing ragged and heavy, but in sync. Rocket could feel the heat of Sword's body against his, and the steady thud of his heartbeat through his ribs.
He stared up at the ceiling, arms limp at his sides, unsure whether he was either too exhausted to shove Sword off—or if he even wanted to. Sword's forehead rested on top of his collarbone, the space between his horns just enough for Rocket's chin to fit through.
The silence that filled the room was no longer tense, but strangely gentle.
Rocket let out a giggle as their shaky breaths slowed, and Sword gave him a warm smile.
"...Sorry about the table. I'll buy you a new one," Sword muttered.
Rocket closed his eyes and pulled Sword closer.
"Nah, don't worry about it. It was my fault too."
"So, spilt the price 50/50?"
"Okay."
Sword let his eyes drift closed for a second, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up with him. He burrowed in even closer to Rocket, and let himself doze off.
Rocket took a glimpse at Sword for a second, before slipping his eyes shut again, and murmured out a final threat.
"If you drool on me, you're sleeping with the shattered table instead."