Chapter Text
It was late at night. About 1:26 in the morning. Sword couldn’t sleep. Why? He was thinking about his best friend; Rocket. Could you blame him, though? Rocket was really cool! He was loud, brash, and hardheaded, but protective, funny, and so caring. His chest felt warm around him, and he’s caught himself staring at his friend on multiple occasions, but those were normal best friend things, right?
Sure, when his hand accidentally brushed against Rocket’s one time, it felt a jolt of electricity that he shamefully longed for again, but that felt too intimate. But, he and his friend have done other things that could be considered such, like cuddles, affectionate touches, among other things, but those were normal friend things, right?
That all leads him to this moment now; Sword staring at the ceiling, rethinking his relationship with his best friend. Rocket had a smile, one of sharp teeth and dumb wit, that made Sword sometimes forget what words were, and a laugh that he wanted to keep in a jar and put on a shelf for whenever he wanted. His blue horns, carved with trial and error, had a mix of gleaming and matte shine where the carving knife dug in too deep, and they always caught Sword’s eyes.
…These weren't normal best friend thoughts, were they?
Sword grabbed one of his pillows and groaned into it with minor frustration. If they weren’t ‘normal best friend thoughts’, then what were they? Just… compliments? Adoration to someone he cared for? Were they…
No. Yes? Maybe?? Agh, why was he thinking about all this at– Sword looked at the clock –1:31 in the morning?!
He sighed, putting his pillow back as he stared at the ceiling once more. The only thing clogging his mind was his best friend(?). He felt butterflies in his stomach at the possibilities. He shook his head.
No, he shouldn’t be thinking like that. It was his best friend, afterall! Rocket probably didn’t feel like this towards him, so why would he think about Rocket like that? …A small part of him wished that it was the case.
And with that, he came to an actual conclusion. One he mumbled aloud to his dark room.
“I’m in love with Rocket.”
No fireworks. No celebration. Just the soft, warm feeling as he realized why he cared so much about this. Rocket likely didn’t feel the same, but that fuzziness in his chest didn’t fade. What now? …That’s a problem for the future. Right now; some well needed sleep, particularly with dreams that happened to contain his blue-clad crush.
(Meanwhile, in an apartment across Crossroads, a familiar rocketeer made a similar realization and had to scream into a pillow while kicking his feet.)