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“Okay— Look, if we do it like this, maybe, maybe Venomshank would let you stay over.”
Sword was being an idiot. Well, in Rocket’s eyes, at least, he was not reacting to the big frown he was getting for scowling.
All of his idea was betting on performing karaoke for their dads, which he wouldn’t have been so vehemently against if it weren’t for two things.
One, they weren’t eleven anymore; it wasn’t cute watching them sing and sweat from dancing around the living room.
Two, neither of them could do screamo properly enough for Sword to pick King For a Day.
“You can’t do something like– I don’t know,” Rocket groaned the more he thought about the idea, looking through his head before continuing, “Panic at the Disco? Paramore? It would be easier for you to do Misery Business.”
“Nope! ‘Cause we have to duo perform it, for authenticity and like sharing the lines evenly.”
Rocket couldn’t help the way he furrowed his brows at Sword, sounding particularly irritated as he went:
“Do you know how to fry scream?”
“Nope!”
“So what makes you think I do?”
“Eheh– I mean,” Sword gestured around loosely, a sign he was about to say something that’d either annoy Rocket or convince him he was best friends with an idiot.
The majority of the time, it was a good mix of both.
“You kind of scream at me all the time, so I figured it’d be a bit easier.”
His eye twitched before he let out a long sigh, trying not to give in to the bait of how stupid Sword could be.
“I don’t scream at you all the time; sometimes you’re just a bit behind.”
“You look like you’re about to.”
“Well, I’m not!”
Screw him for being friends with someone who pulled off puppy-dog eyes. Rocket almost apologized when he saw how Sword reacted, but all guilt in his body was crushed by how quickly the other recovered.
“So you’ll do it?”
“Nope.”
“Rocket—” And, okay, his best friend was actively pleading and whining on his bed like this wasn’t a reasonable thought process.
In an instant, Rocket pushed Sword’s face further from him, covering how flushed he’d gotten from that with his free hand.
“Quit doing that!”
“Dude, come on.”
Sword grabbing at his wrist had put the two of them in a momentary stun, neither of them doing much except staring for a minute.
“Can’t you just do something without screaming?” Rocket was cracking, much to his dismay. He still looked irritated; he wasn’t completely giving in that fast.
“You don’t even like Pierce the Veil enough for something like this.”
“I like Vic Fuentes!”
“Right.”
Why was he friends with someone so convincing?
“Do you not like Panic at the Disco more, ‘cause if that’s the case I won’t buy you the anniversary CD anymore—”
“Don’t use that against me!”
Sword and he had become way too close while talking, and Rocket wasn’t in the mood for practically having some big puppy in his lap asking for more.
With another tiny push, Rocket protested, “I should use that against you! Do you hear how bad an idea this is?”
“I thought you’d enjoy performing with me.”
“In any other circumstance, sure! Not when I have to fry my throat for it.”
Sword wasn’t hesitating to grab at his mechanical wrist, hands directly on the wrist joint, keeping his hands’ movement free while pleading, “We could be practicing together right now, and you’re arguing with me.”
“I’m arguing with you 'cause you’re being stupid.”
“And I think you’re wasting your vocal cords on me instead of the song.”
“We couldn’t do a Match Into Water?” Rocket was trying to find a good song they could negotiate on, but that suggestion didn’t help.
He could see Sword processing the suggestion, mouthing a lyric or two before saying, “You’re gay. And then like— that’s still not a duo, so there’s no point!”
“I highly prefer screaming that over whatever you want to do.”
“Just 'cause I’m so irresistible, you wanna sing about kissing or something doesn’t mean that’s a better idea.”
Rocket was blushing, but that didn’t matter.
What mattered was that Sword had finally pushed the right buttons to make him give in.
“Go- pull up some karaoke and a tutorial on how to fry scream.” he covered his face with both hands as he gave in, ignoring the little cheer that’d gotten out of Sword.
Zuka would never let him live something like this down.
The tutorial didn’t help whatsoever, considering Sword’s voice cracked too much for it, and Rocket’s voice was still overly high-pitched. It took way too much water for him to even get close to what Vic Fuentes had been doing.
Venomshank would get on him for this too, wouldn’t he?
…
“You want to— what now?” Zuka had paused his conversation with Venomshank, looking over the two teens with a horribly confused look.
“We want to perform for you!”
Sword, being so giddy about the whole thing, had clearly thrown his dad off, seeing how he looked at Rocket before snickering.
“Right, right. And Rocket’s really happy, isn’t he?”
Zuka was being overly sarcastic, snickering at him next to Sword as if any of this had been his choice.
“I’m really, really joyous.”
Venomshank looked over at the two of them, eyes narrowing at his son before asking, “Sword, this isn’t because you want to dye your hair again, is it?”
The white roots were pretty contrasting against long, black, and clearly dyed hair.
“No, no! It’s so Rocket could sleep over.”
Zuka wasn’t even hiding, making fun of him anymore, full-on laughing as he covered his mouth with his hand. Man, Rocket really did inherit that hand face-covering thing, didn’t he?
But at least his dad had some patience, intentionally trying not to hurt Sword’s feelings: “Go ‘head and perform, then.”
Sword grabbed the remote off the table, finding some karaoke video before looking over eagerly at Rocket.
“Oh, my God.”
He was going to die of embarrassment before getting a word out, wasn’t he? With a long inhale, Rocket had given the worst attempt at the intro he could. Sword looked happy to hear it, thankfully, but both the adults in the room looked a tad bit mortified.
Venomshank had enough maturity to keep himself quiet, only letting out an awkward fake cough when he finished up the intro.
Zuka, on the other hand? He was full-on grinning, clearly not laughing just because Sword wasn’t his kid. Whenever Rocket started up, though, he was giggling.
Especially when one of his little screams had resulted in his voice dying out in the middle of it. Rocket didn’t even look up after that, trying to force his focus back on Sword.
And unfortunately, Sword’s singing wasn’t much better, voice still cracking pitifully on way too many notes for it to sound the least bit listenable.
They’d only gotten a minute and a half in before Zuka’s shoulders were shaking, his face completely covered to keep Sword from seeing his laughter.
Venomshank was a somewhat stronger soldier, keeping his head up and giving the two of them a sheepish thumbs-up.
The song took too long to end.
Rocket’s face was completely red- way too embarrassed- but Sword was grinning as if they’d put on the best performance of all time.
He didn’t even want to mention the poor attempts Sword had made at head rocking while singing his parts.
Or the choreography.
As a matter of fact, Rocket didn’t want Zuka mentioning any of this again, ever.
He sighed at Venomshank’s small claps, looking more pitiful than genuinely proud.
Zuka had enough mercy not to ruin both of their moods, choking out words between a laugh, “You can stay over all you want, Rocket— Please, keep performing only here.”
Venomshank didn’t look so proud anymore, his expression being readable through the plague mask.
That was horror.
“No, no, that could be a special one-time thing.”
“It was that good?” Sword was smiling all happy, already hugging Rocket and looking too excited for their sleepover.
“Maybe we could do it again!”
“One time was good enough.”
Venomshank was crumbling. Gosh, at least Sword’s dad put effort into covering everything up. He didn’t even want to look at Zuka anymore.
Laughing like they’d put on a comedy show instead of an honest performance.
“‘Kay then.”
Sword hadn’t even bothered to look back after saying that, already eager to drag Rocket back to his room.
“Come on, Rocket!”
“Yeah, yeah, go on ahead, Rocket,” Zuka didn’t even bother looking up while taunting him, and he was turning redder by the second.
By the time they got back upstairs, that door was slammed shut.
There wasn’t a lot of commentary left between Sword and Rocket, at least none that’d been audible to Venomshank and Zuka.
However, the moment those two left the room, Venomshank’s composure broke down.
Both of the adults had begun laughing, and it became worse by the time more music started playing in Sword’s room.
The sound of the guitar was too much for what’d just happened, blasting over both of their voices.
Venomshank would’ve been worried about a noise complaint if it weren’t for how much funnier it’d made everything.