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Rocket heard a knock at the back door.
The shop had been closed for several hours at this point, the light long since leaving the sky. His workshop was packed up in preparation for the next day of work and orders. The doors locked, shutters sealed, garage closed, and all lights turned off.
He expected no one. Especially no one at the back door.
But he used to. Before, there was someone knocking there every day, as if his house came with some secret open door policy that friends and aquantances abused.
Rocket opened it, and was face to face with the most pathetic sight of the strongest inphernal he's ever known.
Sword was a mess. His hair was ratty in his over worn braid and his eye bags tugged at his sleepy eyes. His clothes barely looked cleaner than the ground and must've carried dirt from just about every region. His wings were dropped by his sides, like he didn't even have enough energy to fold them.
"Hi, Rocket. I hope I'm not disturbing you"
"What the fuck Sword. What. Oh my gods. What are you-" Rocket interrupted himself by leaning out and grabbing Sword, pulling him into the house. "Come in, gods."
He pushed Sword into the living room and he trudged in. He walked with such heavy steps he caught his food on the lip of the door and tripped halfway in.
"What happened?" Rocket was concerned. More than he normally was. He's grown used to seeing Sword banged up, it was part of his job after all, but it's been years since he's seen him so...defeated.
"I, just-"
"No, nevermind, it doesn't matter, just.." Rocket gritted his teeth, thinking. "Just cmon, lets go upstairs."
He dragged Sword the rest of the way into the house and upstairs, Sword following behind like a tired toddler, tripping with every other step.
Rocket brought him to the bathroom, gently holding both his hands to bring him in before stopping him and grabbing his clothes.
"Okay, take these off"
"Rocket, I'm-"
"I don't care. You look, and smell, disgusting, take these off."
Even though he told Sword to do it, he didn't actually let him take his clothes off himself. He unwrapped his cape from his shoulders and ripped his shirt over his arms, and Sword complied. Lifting up his arms like he was a newspawn, getting himself changed by his mentor.
He untied his pants and would've helped him with those too if it wasn't an inconvenience to both do it. Sword kicked off his shoes and Rocket turned to turn the hot water on, leaning over the tub to make the water the right temperature. He turned back as Sword was talking off the last of his clothes, throwing them in a pile in the corner.
Rocket looked him up and down. It hadn't been a long time since he's seen him, but every time Rocket swore he could see a new scar on his body. This time his legs were scratched up and bruises were speckled around his thighs and ribs.
Sword shuffled awkwardly.
"Oh, my poor little guy." Rocket walked forward, holding Swords hands, and leaned up to give him a peck. Sword still stood awkwardly, but looked away with a soft smile.
"Okay, let's get you in."
Sword groaned a little bit as Rocket urged him to sit in the tub. "Rocket, I'm not a little kid, you don't need to bathe me."
"I know. But I'm going to. If it helps you can think of yourself as my dog. Y'know I always thought about having a pet, but my dad talked me out of it"
"Probably for the best," Sword huffed as he sat down.
"Yea. It'd probably like, I don't know, eat scrap metal and die."
Sword chuckled.
Warm water was flowing out of the faucet and washing past Swords feet and crossed legs. He settled into the slight warmth below him.
"I don't even get a full tub?" Sword tried cracking a joke, as tired as he was.
"And have you sitting in your own filth? Nuh uh," Rocket responded, scooping up a bit cup of water from the faucet and pouring it over Swords shoulders.
He shuddered at the suddenly dousing of water.
"Lean forward dummy, or it's gonna get everywhere," he put a hand on Sword back and pushed him forward a bit, away from the edge of the tub where he was resting.
Sword groaned as a second cup of water was poured directly over his head.
Rocket mumbled under his breath and Sword felt his hair start to get tugged at. "Here, take this," Rocket offered him the cup as he started to undo Sword braid, "scrub a dub dub, little bird in the tub."
Soon shampoo and conditioner was lathered in his hair, bringing it back to its long, silky natural self. The dirt on Swords body was washed away, leaving it smooth, or smoother than it was, and shiny clean.
When Sword was cleaned off, to the best of Rockets ability, and sparing him whatever energy and hassle it would take to really hose him down, the water was turned off and a towel was thrown over Swords head.
Sword got out, rubbing himself dry, and turned to Rocket just in time to have another towel thrown into his face.
Rocket grabbed it and held it around Swords neck, bringing it over his head and scruffing up his hair to dry it. Rocket looked into Swords face as he dried him off. Studying it. He eyed the scar below his eye he'd traced with kisses a million times before, and the cuts around his jaw and eyebrows. He looked into Swords eyes, deep into them, as they looked back into his. He saw something.
"You don't have to tell me what happened."
"You know I would if you asked."
"But do you want to?"
Sword looked away. He put his hands under Rockets and look the towel, drying off the rest of his hair.
"I'll get some clothes." Rocket left the bathroom.
Sword looked around the room. It felt much smaller than it ever had before, though, with only one person living there, there was less clutter and more space than before. He looked into the mirror at himself. Even after getting freshened up, he still looked awful. No wonder Rocket had been in such a hurry to get him inside. He didn't even want to acknowledge his wings. They barely got more than a rinse off in the bath because they would take too much time to dry, and frankly he wasn't interested in making them feel any heavier than they already did. They looked awful. Every part of him did. Every part of him felt awful too.
Rocket walked back in, holding pajamas in the biggest sizes he had, save for a shirt.
"Put these on. Do you need any help?"
"I should be good."
"Okay. I'm gonna tidy up my room, come in when you're done. Just throw the towel down wherever, I needa do my laundry later anyway."
Rocket walked away, leaving Sword in the bathroom again.
He looked down at the clothes in his hand. Fuzzy socks, a pair of boxers, and big pajama pants that he didn't think he'd seen Rocket wear. He gripped them, biting his lip.
When he walked into Rockets room, looking nearly the same as it had their whole childhood, he saw Rocket scurrying to lay out more blankets and even his pillows.
The floors creaked as he walked in.
Rocket jumped up, sitting to the side and patting the bed next to him.
"Pspsps, cmon Sword," Rocket hurriedly called. "Beds not getting any cozier."
Sword groaned, trudging forward with faux reluctance. When he got to the bed he belly flopped down, falling into all the blankets with a fwump.
Rocket smiled and scooched closer to Sword as he wriggled around onto his back. The two of them inched closer to each other, wrapping around and getting into each other's space, fitting together perfectly. Rocket sat down with Sword laying on his back on his legs.
Rocket looked down, Sword looked up. He leaned down and kissed Sword, who pressed back into the affection.
"Y'know, if you wanted a sleepover, you didn't needa do all that."
Sword hummed a laugh. He held Rockets hand and kissed his palm, pushing his face into it. Rocket kissed him again. Sword breathed into it, groaning as his muscles finally relaxed.
Rocket sat up, "okay, turn over big boy, I gotta get a look at those feathers, they've been driving me crazy."
"Mmmmmnno you don't," Sword closed his eyes and shook his head.
"Yes I do, cuz you're not gonna do it."
"Yes I will."
"Mhm, when?"
"Mmm, later in life."
"Okay, well, you can do it later in life. I'm gonna do it right now."
Rocket pushed at Swords shoulder to flip over until he finally complied, flipping over in Rockets lap, draping his arms over his legs and resting his face on his thigh.
He breathed into the warmth of Rocket under him. His chest molding around Rockets body. His pants were soft, and his lap was like the best pillow. It felt like a cloud, a secure cloud, that he knew so well.
He closed his eyes to the feeling of Rocket imbedding his fingers into his feathers. He ruffled through them, lifting them up and airing them out before settling them down, moving his fingers dexterously between the layers of feathers, putting them all into place. It felt akin to brushing out your hair after having it up; massaging your scalp and finally putting that chunk of hair into the right spot that has been irritating you for so long.
Everything fell into place; Swords feathers, his body against Rocket, and soon their breathing as Sword fell into a trance under Rockets touch. Colors swirled behind Sword eyelids before even his mind turned dark, and he slipped off to sleep.