Author's Note: This chapter occurs four years after the Guardians of the Galaxy volume two.
In hindsight, what he was about to do was so fucking stupid.
Rocket stood outside the door where Mantis slept on the Benatar; his paws shook before he took a deep, shaky breath and forced himself to calm down.
She didn't want him.
She couldn't have wanted him.
The fire in his heart, mixed with the words and clever jokes he had in his head, rapidly evaporated the longer he stood outside the metal door.
Mantis needed a real man in her life, one who wouldn't look out of place as she hung onto his arm.
Or leaned down to kiss her lips, held her tight and wiped away her tears when she cried, comforted her when she was scared or overwhelmed, or gave her genuine praise when she succeeded in a mission or a goal.
Someone who could love her when she was angry and answer her questions about a galaxy she didn't fully understand without sarcasm or a stupid joke.
A man who would be willing to accept the evil she had done because she didn't know how to do anything else that wasn't her father's will; she needed someone strong, brave, passionate, patient, sincere, and honest with her throughout every step he took with her in her life.
She needed a man willing to cherish and love every inch of her, flaws and all; once she gave him the heart she guarded exceptionally carefully.
One who would give her the stars if she asked for them, a man that would go to any length to shield her from the monsters that threatened the galaxy, or at the very least, one who was always willing to fight by her side.
Rocket wasn't a man.
He was a genetically altered, engineered beast that had gotten extremely lucky to escape his 'father' as he watched his friends die around him and cobbled together different inventions that he had scrounged up from the trash.
His adopted son was a walking, talking sentient tree he had found when he crashed his 'borrowed' ship and landed on an unknown planet.
He was a bitter, spiteful, alcoholic, gun-obsessed, explosion-loving, sarcastic, rage-fueled nightmare.
Rocket was everything that was wrong with science and evolution.
Hell, the very first time they had met, he had nearly bitten her hand off when she did nothing more than pet him, all because of his issues and insecurity with personal space.
He didn't like when anyone touched him without permission, and Drax knew it was nothing more than a stupid joke, one she didn't even realize she was privy to.
They were bonding slowly, genuinely enjoying each other's company and laughing, either at something done or at another's expense.
He enjoyed teaching her all he could about the ship, different weapons, and what little knowledge he knew about the galaxy.
They spent enough time together through the ship, missions, and their friends that they had formed a real friendship, which technically could be called a closer bond than Mantis had with Drax or that Rocket had with Peter, maybe even Groot if possible.
Mantis had come out of her shell in ways Rocket would have never thought possible after hanging out with the Guardians and being a member of their remarkably murderous group of shitbags.
She was more confident in herself, not one to shy away from foul mouth humor or afraid to speak her mind as she had been in the past.
She was bold when negotiating or quick to take down a client when they tried to rip them off or betray them, both of which happened so often that the Guardians now demanded that those who wanted their services paid half the money upfront as opposed to when they first started.
She was passionate about her friends and the few new friends they made along the way.
He knew from her personality and how she held herself, which still had a shy demeanor when meeting new people, that if she ever found the love of her life, she would pour every ounce of her heart into the romantic relationship.
It's just who she was.
Rocket and Mantis had grown closer than they probably thought they would ever get from where the two had started, and he knew they should have just stayed as excellent, honest, caring, and loyal friends.
But Rocket knew deep in his heart that he loved her.
Even unintentionally, he had a habit of fucking shit up.
As expected, it's who he was and where he stood now to ruin an ideal thing.
Lost in his thoughts, Rocket didn't remember knocking on the metal door, loud enough to catch her attention but hopefully not so loud that it woke the others sleeping.
He didn't want an audience.
Ten seconds felt like an hour as he waited, his fur bristled, and his tail waved behind him rapidly as he tried to psych himself up for whatever dumb shit he would say to start a romantic conversion.
His confidence deflated like a balloon as his nerves went haywire at the thought of trying to woo his best female friend.
He couldn't do this.
He grimaced at what a complete and utter failure he was, ashamed.
He was a coward; he was being unfair to her wants and needs in favor of his selfish desires and goals instead of focusing on what the two could accomplish together as more than friends.
Typical Rocket, always crossing a line that should have never existed in the first place.
He let out a deep, depressing sigh before he turned away and slowly walked to head to any destination other than the one he wanted with all his heart to be standing near.
She needed a real man, not a monster that reached up to her knees and who she constantly had to bend down, or he had to be picked up or climb to her shoulder simply for affection.
Because of their different facial structure, she didn't need someone covered in fur or who had to angle his face simply for a damn kiss.
Their hands would never properly fit together in the way she could get with someone her height and size, and there would always be disgusted glares, jealousy, and whispers of their relationship that would never fade as long as she was with him.
Mantis needed an accurate, solid, stable, and honest man to be the love of her life.
Rocket wasn't a man.
If not for his genetically cybernetic hearing, Rocket wouldn't have heard the door to her room open as he paused halfway through from wherever he wanted to go on the ship.
He had half a mind to run on all four, away from her curious expression and gentle, heartwarming smile.
"Hey, Rocky. What's up?" She asked softly; in such a way, Rocket swore he felt his heart stop, and he nearly disregarded the nickname she had called him.
His affection for nicknames must have been rubbing off on her; how ironic.
"N-nothing much, Firefly. I just wanted to see what you were up to today. Got anything going on tonight?" He had no idea where the sudden thunderbolt of confidence had come from, nor where the new nickname he had just randomly called her had sprouted from, yet it felt right to his ears.
"Gamora was planning to teach me how to use a sword more professionally later, but other than that, I don't have any other plans for tonight. Why do you ask?" She spoke, her large black eyes tracing every nervous shake his body gave, almost in anticipation but for what, she wasn't sure.
She deserved a real man.
Rocket was the furthest sentient being one could get from a man.
But he was exponentially great at thinking on his feet.
He took a large, shaky breath and thought carefully of his following words, the heartfelt confessions that he wanted to say and that she should hear, the starting line that could begin a long, romantic relationship or bathe their friendship in flames.
Fuck it.
"I wanted to see if you wanted to go down to the next planet and catch a Flarnix show with me over drinks. I think Quill said they were similar to jazz, whatever the hell that is." He chuckled softly, watching her expression closely and waiting to put the metal walls that guarded his emotions the second she rejected him.
What he was asking wasn't a friendly outing they had often done.
He didn't reference any of the others of their crew on board, not even Groot; the look, eyes, and body language acted like he wanted to get black-out drunk, start a fight, or blow something up.
But knowing Rocket as well as she did, it could have easily been all three.
She blinked, and a small smile crossed her face at just how agonizing this must have been for Rocket to have the strength to take their friendship to another level.
"Could we get dinner afterward? I've read great things about Terafarain fish that I've wanted to try if we could find some." She teased.
The shine in his eyes at her acceptance of what he was offering practically made every bit of tension leave his body instantly as his natural, carefree attitude took over his words.
"Shit, we might as well go for a walk underneath the stars after dinner at this rate." He replied with a smirk as she giggled.
"I'd like that, Rocket. Then it's a date." Mantis responded, making Rocket feel like he had just got hit with a sledgehammer with how easily their conversions flowed.
"Y-yeah. A date. So, how does six tonight sound?" He asked as she rolled her eyes with a grin.
"Sounds perfect." She whispered before yawning and, with a slight wave goodbye, she returned to bed.
Rocket couldn't keep the smile off his face even if he tried.
Mantis needed a man who would sincerely love her with all his heart until his last breath.
She got Rocket Raccoon instead.