The alien planet had the most peculiar technology Rocket has ever seen. It was like the stone age of galactic technology where function relied on clogs turning against each other. He found it odd, a mile away, when he started hearing ticking sounds. When he saw the small town, he had an epiphany of what Cheshire said when all else is ‘recharging’.

The town literally recharges during night in order for it to function during day. The buildings had the architecture of straw cottages and huts but had automatic metal doors and metal walls. The townsfolk were mostly creaky robots and if there were any humanoids, they would either be part clock (according to Rocket) or animalistic.

Cheshire walked in front of Rocket, leading the way into the small town when Rocket caught up and whispered, “I would just like you to know that I don’t drink motor oil for sustenance.”

Cheshire looked at Rocket for a second before rolling his eyes, “As you can clearly see, not everyone in the population is robots. Some are still part flesh which requires organic things to consume.”

“You suddenly lost your sense of humor?” Rocket folded his arms, “I was joking.”

“You sounded so serious.”

“That’s part of it.”

They stopped by a small inn. The wall had a gradient overlay of rust, darkest at the base and just crept up all over. The metallic door ceased to function and needed a little punch for it to lift up. Rocket stared with a dumbfounded face as he watched the feline perform tricks to get the door opening. It appeared, though, as the inn had its own passcodes before access.

The innkeeper was a fat woman behind the counter seeming busy albeit she had few customers. She was part metal as most of the humanoids with a cybernetics eye and a prosthetic left hand. She knew Cheshire for a long time by the look on her face when she suddenly lit up after spotting the blue feline.

She dashed out of the counter, revealing her half body that was no more than a complicated unicycle. She had one tire, carrying all of the weight of her body. It was no wonder she couldn’t be still. When she wasn’t doing anything, she had to balance herself.

“Chess!” The woman swept Cheshire off the ground and spun him around once. When she laid him back on the floor, she spotted Rocket and gave him a warm smile. “I see you have a fine one this time. One room to go?”

“Oh no,” Cheshire pushed his hands as a gesture, “We’re only here for a drink and perhaps a meal for my friend.”

“I see,” the woman kept on smiling. If she could shove Cheshire with her elbow, she would be doing it repeatedly. “First, fill in the stomach for some stamina, eh?”

Cheshire looked over to Rocket and scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “No, Lourdes. We’re just here to drink.”

Lourdes nodded once but her face remained unconvinced. “Have a seat then, lads. Well, let me know if you change your mind, Chess. A room is always available for ya’” She winked and dashed back into the counter to prepare their meal.

When Cheshire and Rocket were both seated, Rocket demanded some answers about the earlier predicament. “A lot of things were implied back there,” Rocket opened the conversation, “Just what does that fat lady thought of me?”

“She thought you and I were going to…” Cheshire groaned and rubbed his eyes, “Don’t be a saint,” he defended, “I’m sure you’d had plenty yourself. You’re very charismatic.”

“Yeah. Sure,” Rocket didn’t believe Cheshire’s last remark, “I’ve had plenty of drinks. Females—zero… well there was one.”

Cheshire’s ears perked up.

“Her name is Lylla,” Rocket continued, “The only female I ever loved but as far as my life goes, we’re separated.”

“Haven’t you tried looking for another?” Cheshire asked, “I understand if it’s love but haven’t you tried seeking temporary ties just to relieve the pain?”

“Drinks relieve my pain,” Rocket answered the moment Cheshire finished, “Everywhere in the galaxy, when they look at me; they see two things exclusively in order: a cute animal to pet and a little monster that bit them.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Of course you don’t,” Rocket raised his voice, “You’ve never been out there like I have.”

“I mean I don’t understand how they could see you as a little monster,” Cheshire chuckled subtly, “If I was one of those who petted you and got bitten, I would be really glad.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Of course you would,” Rocket interjected, “You’re a psycho. And I wouldn’t bite a psycho.”

Cheshire winked, “I’d take it as an invitation to advance it further.”

“The universe isn’t for you,” Rocket remarked, “Perhaps you’re better off contained in a planet.”

“So I’ve been told,” Cheshire laughed, “But imagine the mayhem I’d create if I were there. Lifeforms would fall all over me.”

“You wouldn’t be doing a better job than I have,” Rocket spat, “You’d just be petted wherever you go.”

“It starts with a touch,” Cheshire added, “And gradually moves on.”

Rocket opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Lourdes who came in carrying a tray of food and two pints of golden-looking beverages. The aroma of the food was irresistible or Rocket was just hungry but the moment it was placed before him, he grabbed the plate and gobbled whatever dish was served.

It was also then when Cheshire excused himself to have a word with Lourdes.

Rocket followed the feline and the cyborg with his eyes as the duo made their way by the counter. Cheshire seated on a stool as his lips moved with whatever words he let go. Rocket kept close watch although what they were talking about was beyond his auditory sense.

Lourdes wiped a mug with tablecloth, nodding once or twice to whatever the cat was saying. A few moments more, Lourdes dropped the mug and it shattered on the floor. She placed both hands on the counter, looking devastated.

Cheshire gestured with his hands and kept on. A few seconds more, the cyborg covered her mouth with her hands and began crying. She embraced Cheshire and patted him on the back before finally cleaning up the shards of the mug.

Cheshire was walking back to their table by then and Rocket pretended to have not been observing them.

“Whatcha do?” Rocket asked as he chewed on his food.

Lourdes came in once again, carrying a tray with numerous pints. “It’s on the house,” she sniffled and managed to look horrible with tears in a span of minutes.

“What just happened?” Rocket asked.

“What just happened,” Cheshire took one mug in hand and drank it halfway through, “Is that I have managed to get all of these for free. I hope you have a strong gut for drinking.”

Rocket kept on eating, tearing meat with his teeth. “What did you tell her?”

Cheshire drank the rest of the alcohol and slammed the mug on the table. “Told her I was leaving and that I was going to miss her,” Cheshire hiccupped, “You’ve had your fill with that. Drink with me!”

***

Rocket was just about in his third round when Cheshire was already piling empty mugs. Lourdes dashed to and from the counter delivering trays of pints and the drunk kitty seemed to have the intention of emptying the keg.

“You know I drink a lot myself,” Rocket set aside his half-empty mug, “But I don’t drink this much.”

Cheshire belched and hiccupped, pouring down alcohol down his throat before slamming the mug on the wooden table with a satisfied grunt. “The day is long and it’s hardly noon. What else are we going to do the rest of the day?”

“Plan out,” Rocket suggested, “Create strategies—what we’ll do once we’re in the castle?”

Cheshire waved Rocket’s suggestions off with his hand, “It won’t matter.” He pulled in a deep breath before letting another gastric sigh out of his system. “Once we get there, we’ll casually be walking to the spaceport like a morning stroll in the park.”

“I don’t know if it’s the alcohol talking but what kind of palace has no security during night?” Rocket tapped his finger on the table, annoyed of the drunk cat. Of the many things he hates, talking to drunks without getting drunk himself is one of them.

Cheshire didn’t reply. After emptying another mug, he searched the table for more but found that in his reach were all empty containers. Lourdes was about to deliver more again but Rocket stopped her in the distance with the signal of his hand.

When he turned to the drunk feline, he wasn’t there anymore and so was his half-empty mug. He looked around and spotted vapor wafting in place of Cheshire. It materialized in a hiccup and Cheshire fell back to his seat hugging the empty glass with a stupid look on his face.

Rocket rolled his eyes. He didn’t even get to enjoy his drink. “Hope you had your fill,” Rocket said, “Just make sure you’re sober before nightfall. I don’t want you to be misleading me elsewhere.”

“Such a sourpuss,” Cheshire hiccupped and floated to sit on top of the empty mugs, “Now I’m wondering if you’re really sour.” He leaned in, eyes narrowing to slits but before he could make contact, Rocket blocked the cat’s mouth with his hand.

“You’re drunk, sleep it off,” the raccoon suggested.

Cheshire turned into vapor and surrounded Rocket in a wall of smoke. Then he materialized sitting on top of Rocket, holding the very hand Rocket used to cover his mouth. “Come on,” Cheshire whispered, “Just one taste.”

Rocket growled. He jerked his hand from the cat and pulled him behind the neck. He kissed Cheshire hard, biting outside his mouth before forcing his way inside. They shared the taste of alcohol in their exchange of breaths.

“Am I still a sourpuss?” Rocket withdrew an inch away from Cheshire’s mouth and kissed him hard again before pushing him off. Although drunk, Cheshire was surprised at Rocket’s response. He didn’t expect he’d actually get a kiss from the raccoon. It was all about making jokes.

The sensation of Rocket’s tongue exploring his mouth lingered and refused to go away. Cheshire’s never been kissed before. It was always him who performed and having someone else do it to him made him feel submissive.

He followed Rocket with his eyes before floating to ride on Rocket’s back, wrapping his hands around Rocket’s neck. He didn’t say anything. He just took the moment to embrace Rocket and nuzzle his face on the raccoon’s fur.

He got off and went to the counter. “I think I may have overdone the alcohol today,” he laughed sheepishly. “I’ll sober up upstairs. Feel free to rent a separate room if you need to rest.” Thereafter he vanished into a cloud of vapor making its way to the second floor of the building.

Rocket turned to the door, about to walk out when he changed his mind about going elsewhere. He traced his mouth, where the sensation of the kiss earlier remained before shaking it off. He went upstairs.