Chapter Text
Sword never saw it coming. The day it started, everything was like it always was— he woke up to the bright morning sun in Crossroads, the comfortable linens of his hammock cradling his form, hearing the muffled mumblings of inphernals on their way to work.
He put on his helmet, petted Sisyphus’s feathers on the way to the staircase, smiling at their sleepy caws, and greeted Venomshank in the living room, reminding the deity of his hangout with Rocket.
A few more reassurances and mothering lectures later, he was out the door, and the familiar sight of a striped blue and yellow jacket and deep cobalt horns welcomed him soon after.
Nothing was out of the ordinary; Rocket, impatient as ever, scolded him playfully about taking too long, and they exchanged updates about Zuka’s shop and banter all throughout breakfast time at Thieves’ Rest.
Sword would get the blueberry muffin, and Rocket the jalapeño popper pastries, and somewhere along the way they’d slide each other little morsels of each. They would cruise around town, going to hideaways only they knew about, and by sundown it would be time to part ways.
Everything was as it should be.
Until the goodbye hug happened.
It should’ve been nothing special— They hugged like every week, no problem. It was the kind of thing that they did all the time. Usually, it would end with a pat on the back and a friendly smile, but this time… there was a slightly tingly sensation plucking at his horns. It almost felt like scratching, as if Rocket was scritching his horns with calloused fingertips. It was weird, but decidedly pleasant.
Sword shifted, a little ticklish. “Hey rocket, you can stop scratching my horns now, haha.“
Rocket looked back at him, lifting his head out of the hug with a confused expression. “Huh? I’m not touching anywhere near your horns, dude.”
“What? You’re not?” Sword felt his face warm from embarrassment. “Then what was…?”
The other inphernal laughed, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “You’re such a weirdo sometimes, man.”
Sword didn’t quite know what to make of that, so he let the issue drop for now. As soon as Rocket had stopped touching him, the tingles inexplicably faded away— so surely that had been just a weird one-off thing.
…Right?
It was not a one-off thing.
After that fateful day, the tingly feeling in his horns kept coming back again. And again and again. Always at the most inopportune times, too.
They started up when he was shopping at grocery stores, when his mind wandered off to think about when him and Rocket would have their next hangout. Sometimes, they would appear at dinner time, watching Venomshank chop up vegetables, or at night, lying in his hammock, the feelings staying put like a pesky fly that refused to buzz off.
They even began to pop up during his sparring sessions, distracting him from focusing on the sword strikes from his mentor. (He got quite a lot of accidental bruises from that.)
Even worse, he was having a whole lot of them around Rocket. An almost ridiculous amount of them. It was starting to get on his nerves now, really.
Every time Rocket’s hand so much as grazed his fingers when handing him a cup, those damn tingles would bubble like carbonation in a soda can, making his brain go fuzzy.
“-ord? Sword, are you getting anything?“ the warmth of Rocket’s fingers on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts, the tingles intensifying briefly. His eyes refocused on the menu on the table in front of him, taking longer than usual to decipher their meaning.
“Uh, give me a second,” he said hurriedly, skimming through the breakfast options.
“Can you hurry? I want to get going before Coil shows up.” Rocket sighs, his hand retreating from Sword’s shoulder. “You know how much they take up Sling’s line.”
“Sorry, I’ll try to make this as quick as –“ he looks up, intending to shoot his friend an apologetic smile, his voice trailing off as he notices their eyes fixed on him. The attention shouldn’t be so captivating, but it is; the confident grin Rocket sports is unfairly teasing, and his horns are a brilliant azure against the soft light of the early afternoon.
His horns ache.
A sense of unease rises in his gut. His horns ache. For what? For what? They shouldn’t be tingling up a storm right now. There was no reason Sword could think of that would explain why they would suddenly choose this exact moment to freak out on him.
Rocket’s eyes darted away from his. Oh, was he making this weird? “Is there something on my face?” Sword fumbled for a reply, the words sitting lamely in his mouth. “No, I– uh– I was only looking because, uhm, you were extra… what I mean to say is—”
“Welcome to Thieves‘ Rest, what can I get for you two?” A friendly face with a blue apron and sky triangular horns piped up between them. Oh thank SFOTH.
“Hi Sling, I'll have my usual,” Rocket laid back in his seat, waving his hand at the business owner.
Sling’s fluffy tail swished once behind them as they wrote his order down. “Alright, two jalapeño poppers and one breakfast blend coffee?”
The blue horned inphernal nodded, gesturing towards Sword before he even had a chance to speak up. “He'll have the blueberry muffin, a chocolate milk tea with half sugar, half ice, and strawberry cold foam on the top.“
Sword spluttered, whipping his head over to Rocket. “Hey, you don't have to order for me!”
“You order the same thing every time, dude. Don't worry your feathered head about it.”
There was something so casual about the way he said it, as if memorizing Sword’s favorite choice of breakfast was second nature to him. Like he didn't know the very thought of him taking the time to remember such an insignificant detail was causing so many conflicting feelings to skyrocket the pulse in Sword’s chest.
At that very moment, Sword, with a sinking pit in his stomach, came to a terrible conclusion:
Either he had a life-threatening allergy to Rocket, or something far worse was at stake.
[featured below are some of my drawn descriptions of my Inphernal Biology romantic attraction HCS, feel free to use these for fics too!!!]
