[ Rocket needs to stop looking at him like that, it makes him feel awkward. Peter gives him a defensive half glare for that confused look, as if to say 'WHAT????', but there's no heat behind it. Look, he never claimed to be good at this feelings stuff, he just knows it's better to talk about them sometimes. ]
Dams get fucked up and break too, you know.
[ Living out of spite is something Peter could relate to; it's more sustainable than living out of anger, but both are exhausting options. He also knows that more often than not his own anger is a mask to hide a different emotion, like guilt, fear, or sadness. But this isn't about himself, so he listens and tries to understand where Rocket is coming from. ]
Okay. [ Peter's voice is grave and strained. There's a flare of white-hot fury at the reminder of what these damned scientists did to his friend, and he holds the fork thigh enough that it bends a little. If most of them weren't already dead, he would kill them all again. ]
I can understand that. Wanting to cling to the only things you have left, something that's just yours. Like anger, or to an old Walkman and a nickname that everyone finds ridiculous.
[ Peter pushes his plate of food away, now feeling too queasy to consider eating more. If he thinks too hard about what he saw about the experiments performed on Rocket, the pancakes might make a comeback, and not in a good way. ]
There's no reason why you can't also be more now. You already proved that you're better than that High Evolutionary asshole, hell, you were always better. We're not just the sum of our fuck ups or bad experiences, captain</>. I can't tell you who you were, who your family might have been, I can't help with that. But you have a new family too and we're not going anywhere.
Relatedly I am deeply sorry that Rocket's a dickhead
[He pokes jerkily at the pancakes with the tips of the fork] Yeah, well, you asked where my head was at and I told you. You can't have thought you were gonna like the answer.
[There's a sharp flare of irritation in his chest at Quill having the nerve to talk about family and fucking not going anywhere like he didn't ditch them the second he'd worked through his own shit enough to go reconnect with his real family again, but it's a side note beside the deeper, hotter anger that comes with once again being told that what's working for him isn't good enough. That someone else still gets to decide if he needs to be better]
Why does it always have to be more. Is it ever fucking going to be— [His voice cracks slightly and he takes in a deep shuddering breath. The fight is draining out of him, leaving him looking nothing but exhausted in its wake; the fork is still in his hand, but he's staring at the plate like he's forgotten what he's supposed to be doing with it]
Is what I already am ever going to be good enough for fucking anyone? Or is it just this, forever?
[ There are times when Rocket really reminds him of Yondu. It's hardly ever a good thing, but it does bring Peter a sense of familiarity, despite the harsh words and the cutting remarks. ]
No, but I'd rather have you being honest, even if it comes with a side dish of dickishness.
[ Peter hasn't left forever, and it's not like he plans on forgetting about his team just because he's finally found the courage to go back to Earth and find his Grandfather. It wasn't an easy decision for him to take, either. He's too aliens for earth, too humans for space. Never really fitting anywhere, either, just like the rest of the Guardians. He tries to keep in contact as much as he can while being in a different galaxy than the others, but if he knew how Rocket really feels about that, Peter probably would not be surprised that he feels abandoned. ]
That's not what I fucking meant, Rocket. [ Maybe it's because they're both still hungover, or just because Peter's shit at explaining what he means, but where Rocket is getting exhausted, he's only getting anxious. Peter doesn't want to upset him more than he already is, but he doesn't seem to be able to say the right things either. He runs a hand through his hair, messing the curls further in the process. ]
I'm not looking for a fight. You've always been enough; whatever you choose to do or be, is enough. I just don't like to see you hurting. It's that clear enough for your thick head to get?
[It's funny now, given that they'd ended up knowing each other all of a couple of days in the grand scheme of things, to think just how big a turning point actually talking to Yondu was for him. They'd both seen straight fucking through each other in an instant. It'd been a hell of a wake-up call, seeing someone further down the same path finally have to face up to it, and...fuck, as he'd watched the Ravagers light up the sky for Yondu, for the first time it'd really sunk in for him that it wasn't too late not to make the same mistakes. The others all did their part in making it possible, but man, if he had to point at one instant where he'd decided okay, fine, let's give this "being a person" thing a shot, that was it.
He gives up on the pancakes and reaches for the coffee instead, taking a steadying drink. He gives Peter a long, flat look over the mug]
You don't get to have it both ways, Quill. Either you trust me to handle this some way that works for me, or you don't.
[He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, and — summoning all the hard-won patience he learned raising a sapling with a foul mouth and some too-familiar attitude problems — grudgingly makes a peace offering]
Look. If I feel like I'm not handling it, I'll come find you, okay? Or one of the others, if it's after I head out. But no more pushing. I've done all the talking about it I'm gonna do.
[ For a moment, Peter scrunches up his nose unhappily, looking very much like he wants to argue, or like he's contemplating a particularly hard math problem. And then he deflates, recognizing the attempt at keeping things from escalating for what it is. ]
All right. [ He will put his faith in Rocket, hope that the guy has at least learned something from how far the guardians would go to try and keep him alive, and that he will truly reach out for them if he needs to. He can only hope Rocket knows he's loved, even if they don't say it out loud or Peter's love might not be worth anything to anyone. ]
No more discussing feelings while hungover, eh...[ He says with a tired, small smile. He reaches for his glass of juice, the conversation left his throat feeling tight and dry. Too damn emotional for your own good, boy. Peter hates for right Yondu was.
He will eventually ask the waitress to pack the leftover pancakes; it doesn't sit well with him to waste food, but for now he's quiet. ]
"Peter's love might not be worth anything to anyone" bruh you can't just do that to my feelings
[It doesn't exactly feel like a win. But hey, if neither of them are happy, that's what this compromise shit is all about, right? Or something like that. It's possible he still does not entirely have a firm handle on the concept.
He snorts something that has pretensions in the direction of being a laugh and makes a token effort to lighten the mood] If it makes you feel any better I woulda punched just about anyone else five minutes ago.
[It's a joke, just about, but there's also no denying that counting the number of people he'd tolerate that kind of well-intentioned prying from would not involve a slow thinker running out of fingers. And just about all of them have called the Milano home at one point or another. Granted, most of them would also know better than to push it, but it's not like knowing how to quit when he's ahead has ever been one of Peter's strong points.
He takes another slow, thoughtful drink of coffee and just...puts his own shit to one side and contemplates Peter for a long moment]
[ There might simply not be a perfect outcome from talking about this, but at least they talked about it. Or argued about it, but still. Peter has learned that he doesn't like to leave things unsaid. Life is too unpredictable, and he might regret not speaking up when he had the chance before it's too late.
The attempt at redirecting the conversation towards something more casual is welcome, and this time Peter gives a proper smile. It does make him feel somewhat better, even if that's a very Rocket-like joke. ]
Told ya, I am very lovable. I knew you had a soft spot for me. [ Peter winks at him, of all things, because he can be a little shit too. He knows what Rocket truly meant, and he is aware of how lucky he is that the other likes him enough to not simply storm off or attempt to blow him up with one of his grenades when Peter prods too much.
The question takes him a bit by surprise, not expecting Rocket to want to talk more about anything close to mushy feelings. ]
Ah, yeah, I'm just dandy. [ The blond puts a practiced smile on his face, leaning back against the booth's seat in such a casual way that almost looks 100% genuine.
Truth be told, he is doing better than he was, mainly because he is no longer trying to drink himself to death. So that's progress. The loss of Gamora has turned into a persistent, dull ache in his chest that Peter knows will never go away but that he's learned to live with.
The problem is that, he has no idea what to do with his life anymore. What he's good for. He feels lonely, that's all. ]
It's a little weird to be around so many humans, yet have no idea what happened here for the last 4 decades. [ Peter admits because, after what he put Rocket through, his friend deserves some of the truth. ] My grandfather is also quite old, even for my people's standards, so we're trying to make the best of the time we have left together.
[ He's been mentally preparing himself for yet another loss in the future, so maybe this time he can handle it without losing his mind. ]
[Far from comfortable as it is to stay in this kind of territory, over the years he's learned that even if he'd rather take his feelings to his fucking grave, some of the others unaccountably seem to be glad of the opportunity to talk it out. Still a baffling concept. But hey, it keeps life interesting, or something like that.
The answer he gets doesn't come from the angle he was expecting; it's not what he'd meant, exactly, but he's not having that fucking conversation twice if he can help it so he's not going to look a gift change of subject in the mouth. He doesn't buy that I'm just dandy for a fucking second, of course, but he's not quite enough of a hypocrite to push it. If Peter wants to pretend everything's fine, that's his business]
Yeah, I bet [The vague impression he'd received from Peter's stories about Terra was a hell of a lot different from what he saw when he finally washed up there. It's funny now, with a bit more context, to look back and realize how much of it had been just...a kid's confused interpretation of the way things worked. An identity cobbled together from songs and half-remembered stories.
After calling it a home port for most of the Blip, Rocket's pretty comfortable with the way things work here; as it turns out, people are just people pretty much everywhere. He can pass for human if he's careful to keep the cybernetics covered and no-one looks too closely at any of the rest. The place is still isolated enough that most people are going to assume slightly weird fellow terran and move on with their lives before jumping to alien. He's spent enough time here now that he can generally bluff his way through anything that still catches him off guard.
He wonders, if you actually counted it up, if he's spent more time here over the last ten years than Quill has. That's a weird thought]
Yeah, it's... [He gives a shrug and a wry half-smile] ...time, huh? That shit gets away from you. [Fuck knows he never expected to live this long]
So...is this you, then? For the foreseeable? [He's not not fishing to find out if and when he's going to have some backup back on Knowhere again, but at the same time...hanging around waiting to see when someone kicks it sounds pretty fucking depressing]
[ Silly terrans and their sillier feelings—they really liked to engage in them. Peter briefly wonders if Rocket knows about telenovelas, and how much physiological damage it would cause making him watch an episode or two or the latest trendy one. It could be funny.
And yes, his answer has been a transparent attempt at changing the subject and not bothering Rocket anymore, and Peter's glad he took the offered metaphorical olive branch. ]
Yeah. On the plus side, I have so many more cool songs. I've been making new playlists; I have a few for you that I plan on sending through the comms once they're finished. Just so you all don't forget about my impeccable taste in music.
[ And because he knows Rocket likes it, as well as Nebula and Drax, despite claiming the opposite. And an inherent taste for music, and some of Rocket's mannerisms, despite his many (many) oddities —they all had those, anyway— have made Peter question more than once if Rocket was actually also a human. No doubt bringing it up would piss him off, and he doesn't remember his past, but Peter couldn't stop wondering about it after seeing the planet the High Evolutionary designed. It looked way too much like the earth he remembered in his childhood, the man must have visited the planet at some point. It was called Counter-Earth, for fuck's sake. But that's a thought for another time. ]
It does. I'm not even sure how to even count my age anymore since I was gone those five years. My birth certificate says that I am 46 years old, but physically, I'm 41. Schrödinger's age.
[ It's not something he likes to bring up much, the years during the blip, because it's painful for everyone. He leans in to put his elbow on the table, his chin resting on the palm of his hand, and looks closer at Rocket.
It's been great to reconnect with his grandfather; he was an idiot for not doing it sooner, yet in the past there never seemed to be a right moment for it. Part of Peter feels guilty, too, that he has been causing pain to his grandfather for decades due to his issues and fear of rejection. So there's a lot to process still for both of them. However, he can read between the lines about what Rocket is hinting at.; ]
You're not getting rid of me for long. Sorry to ruin your hopes and dreams, buddy.
[ It's what Peter goes for as an answer, again trying to keep things playful but making it clear he's not going to stay on Earth forever. He loves Jason, he's not looking forward to their final day together, but he doesn't belong here. Earth is not a home to him. ]
And you can call me if anything happens, I have the backup ship if I need to leave the planet. Or...if you just miss me so much and you need to see my pretty face in person again.
[He gives an exaggerated roll of his eyes, but there's no hiding the hint of a suppressed smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. He has developed a certain affection for Peter's constant loop of music over the years; he thinks they all have, really. It's just...something else that means home now, like a streak and orange and blue overhead, or the sounds of good-natured bickering echoing down the hallways]
I'm here, ain't I? [This is as close as he's going to come to admitting that he has missed Peter this last while, so savor it. Most of the time he doesn't think too hard about it; they'd all gotten used to having a bit more personal space after settling on Knowhere, not constantly tripping over each other the way they had been when they were all living on the ship. They'd got to a point where it wasn't that weird to go a day or two without seeing someone. But every so often he'll turn around to point something out or make some smartass comment, and— just for a second he'll get jerked up short again by Peter not being there. It always leaves him tense and restless afterwards. Too much like those empty days after the Snap.
And sure, the others are still there if he needs to remind himself it's not like that. He can go let Groot kick his ass at videogames, or get a little bit drunk and find a stupid barfight with Drax, or pester Nebs into letting him design some new upgrades for her. But none of it's quite the same as getting to turn round and see Peter right there, like he's supposed to be]
Anyway [He pushes the plate away and gives Peter an expectant grin] I remember hearin' a lot of big talk about showin' me the sights...
[ Peter has to bite his lower lips to not outright laugh at Rocket's exasperated antics. This time, when his shoulders relax, it's actually for real, and he feels a little lighter now that they're moving on from the heavier topics.
He's always had a strong connection to music because it reminded him of his mother, of family, and he's glad that such a thing had spread to the Guardians and the people he cares about. They need more of that kind of simple joy in their lives. And besides, the music covers for the lack of noise when Peter can't stand the silence. He grew used to the team's presence and occasional yelling, and it feels strange to not have those comforting sounds anymore. ]
Yes, yes you are. Here to fix my grenades and to discover the wonders of pancakes with bacon, and speaking about that... [ Peter makes another gesture to the friendly waiter, so she can come over, pack their extra food, and they can get a move on. As promised, he will take care of the bill and also leave her a good tip. ]
Prepare to be amazed, dude. [ Peter says with a grin that seems to promise the exact opposite. There's not actually a ton of sightseeing to do in a town like this one, if any. But they will be together, and there's a record store that has some interesting stuff that Peter thinks Rocket might actually like, and then they can go buy some actual groceries so they can survive on more than pancakes these next few days. ]
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[ It's surprisingly easy to fall into the familiar rhythm of sharing their space, even though Peter's small apartment is nowhere close to the size of their ship or the houses they had in Knowhere. Rocket has only been staying here a few days, but Peter feels already more at ease and calm than in the months when the only people he talked to were Jason and his wife, as well as the occasional clerk or waitress, as he tried to adapt to living on his home planet again.
He doesn't have to watch what he says so closely and worry that people would find it weird or not understand what he's talking about when he mentions things like wormhole traveling, zarg nuts, or credits.
Living together also means that he has all the time in the world to pester Rocket, which is what he is doing on Friday night once the sun sets. ]
Come oooon, it will be fun. The place isn't even that far from here, we only have to walk ten minutes to reach the karaoke Bar. I'll pay for the drinks and the snacks.
[If someone had asked him what he would have expected Peter's place back on Terra to look like, he supposes he would have pictured...well, something not all that different from the Milano, probably. Chaotic, cluttered with knicknacks and sentimental keepsakes. Now he's here, it looks a lot less lived-in than he would have expected. Which makes sense, probably. It's not been all that long, really, and intellectually he knows that most of Peter's stuff still is back on the Milano. But still, there's something kind of weird about seeing Peter living somewhere that hasn't been molded to the shape of his life over decades.
It's a small enough place that he's been crashing on the sofa while he's been here. Not that he's complaining; it doesn't even make the top hundred worst places he's slept. As things that aren't beds go it's pretty comfy. And it's not like he needs that much space anyway: he's not a big guy, and discounting the collection of guns and high explosives he'd mostly left back on Knowhere, the sum total of everything he owns still comes to one not particularly large bag. The subset of clothes he has that won't draw attention on Terra is even smaller.
Pretty much from the moment he'd learned what karaoke was, it had been clear to him that Peter was going to insist they go out and give it a shot at some point. He's honestly surprised — and kind of a little impressed at his teammate's restraint — that it took this long]
Hey, you had me at "bar" [He shrugs and shoots Peter a grin] But hey, you wanna keep tryin' to buy my love, knock yourself out.
[ Peter's barebones apartment is further proof that he still has a hard time adjusting to thinking of this planet as a home. His grandfather's house is more comforting; it also has a lot more pictures of his mom and his uncle, who also passed away. At the same time, it reminds him of good times long gone, and seeing the pictures gives him a bittersweet feeling.
Another factor is that Peter's credits can hardly be used on Earth because they are a whole different currency only accepted across the galaxy. The most expensive thing Peter owns right now is the Bluetooth speaker, and that was a present from Jason's wife. But at least the couch is comfy, and it's also covered in a couple of blankets and quilts because Peter knows Rocket likes to steal borrows his stuff. He expects at least one of them to go missing by the time Rocket returns to Knowhere. ]
Great! I'll lead with that the next time. [ Peter's whole face lights up, and an easy smile spreads across his lips. ]If the way to win your love is through your stomach, I can do that too. Let's get moving then; there's a Bruce Springsteen song with your name on it.
[ Time to practically drag Rocket across town until they find the bar, chatting about music choices all the way. ]
[It still kind of wrong-foots him sometimes, just how fucking easy it is to make Peter smile like that. Any talent Rocket's ever had for reading people, for figuring out what makes them tick, has always been used offensively. It's always been about figuring out if someone's a threat, getting them to leave him the fuck alone; or if it comes to a fight, pissing them off enough that they get sloppy. Using those powers for good...suffice to say it's a skill that's, at best, rusty.
The air is cool as they make their way through the nighttime streets, faintly damp and whispering with a breeze that's indefinably different from the air circulation on a ship or station. Above them, the stars are distant, dimmed by atmosphere and the haze of light pollution. From here you can almost see why most species started off believing the sky was a flat dome with points of light painted onto it, just a little further beyond the clouds.
The bar itself is already lively by the time they get there, light and noise and warmth spilling out into the street as the door opens. It's busy enough for a good atmosphere without being too crowded. Up on the poky little stage, there's a guy wailing soulfully into a microphone. Rocket considers him dubiously. He doesn't recognize the song, but he's reasonably sure it's not supposed to sound like that]
At least the bar's set good and low I guess [He shrugs and jerks his head towards the bartop] C'mon, if we're gonna have to sit and listen to this, I need a drink.
[ Some flirting, jokes, and an easy smile had served Peter well over the years. It was his way to protect himself in a galaxy full of horrors. Both because he honestly wanted to have a good time, even if it hardly ever happened, and because if people thought you were an airhead, they underestimated you. That had worked in Peter's favor many times in the past. If he could defuse a tense situation without using violence, he would give all the other options a try before he grabbed his blasters.
And then Thanos happened. Xandar was almost destroyed. Gamora died. A lot of people suffered. The galaxy changed forever, and even after they set it right again, some things were still broken. He was broken. Peter had been miserable for a long time, and their conflict with the High Evolutionary had brought his worst fears to the surface. If he had lost Rocket back then, or any of his friends, he would have lost it forever.
Now that that is over and that he has a much better understanding and acceptance of his place in the universe, Peter is trying to focus on the good things he still has in life. And Rocket, alive and humoring him despite Peter driving him up the wall on occasion, is one of the really few good things he still has.
It's why it's easy to smile and joke around him, sometimes to pull his leg, others simply because Peter is in one of the rare moods where he's genuinely happy, and his smile isn't a mask. That happens more often than not around Rocket.
The fresh air is something he welcomes, especially after living in enclosed ships for so long. The guardians had to stop by planets with actual sunlight every now and then to make sure Groot and Peter could stay in good health, but they never stayed grounded for long. Peter's even gotten a bit more tanned since he started living here and keeps a more stable sleep schedule, so he's feeling more energetic these days. He misses the stars; nothing you can see on Earth compares to the beauty of deep space, but you can't have everything.
Once at the bar, greeted by the lively atmosphere, Peter has to suppress a laugh at the face Rocket is making at the questionable singer. He pats him on the shoulder. ]
The bar is a tripping hazard in hell, and the people here aren't drunk yet, so that's saying something. We can do so much better than that. [ He doesn't have to be told twice, though, moving to take a seat and gesturing to the barman to get their drinks, but instead of asking for a cocktail directly, he turns to grin at Rocket. ]
We should ask for some vodka shots first to warm up. In Terra, we have a lot of drinking games involving those too. Whatcha say?
[His repertoire of terran music isn't all that extensive, but thanks to Peter and his constant stream of it, it's not nothing either. He's still not particularly convinced karaoke's going to end up being his thing, but he doesn't see how anyone with functioning ears could possibly do worse than that.
They make their way across the bar, weaving around knots of people standing around chatting and drinking. Out of habit he does an absent sweep of the room, making a note of exits and anyone who seems like they might be a threat. The latter doesn't turn up much. In his time on Terra he's learned that the average drinking establishment is fairly tame compared to what he's used to; you've gotta go pretty downmarket to even find a realistic chance of getting into a worthwhile barfight, never mind anything with a body count.
Probably things being that tame would get boring eventually. But for now it's still a novelty, and it's kind of relaxing not having to be too on guard.
He slides onto the barstool next to Peter and answers that grin with one of his own] You know I'm down. What you got in mind?
[ Everything would be tame compared to the other bars of dubious reputation they've visited all over the galaxy, but like Rocket, Peter has welcomed the change when he first visited it. Not having to worry about accidentally getting gutted, robbed, or being collateral damage to someone else's fight is a relief.
The nosiest of the lot right now is a small group of seven women whooping with laughter and chatting loudly on a table close to the stage, their hands full of colorful cocktails. They're all dressed similarly, in black clothes, and bring colorful boas and other silly accessories, except one that's wearing a white dress and crown. So, a bachelorette party, for sure.
Peter gives them an amused, fond look as he watches one of them drag the future bride-to-be on stage for a duet to the song Hips Don't Lie by Shakira before his attention goes back to Rocket. It's nice to see his friend grinning in a way that doesn't mean trouble, but also that doesn't not mean trouble either. A bit of both, as they like it. ]
Something silly and fun, relaxing. Hopefully, that will get us pleasantly buzzed. [ Nothing like the conversation they had over breakfast the other day, he means. Tonight's a night to have a good time. When the barman shows up to take their order, Peter simply asks for a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. ]
Most of the drinking games I know need more than two people to be played, alas, but there's the forever classic 'never have I ever'. With the amount of weird shit we have both done, that one could be something.
Basically, you say something you've never done in the past, like 'I've never been arrested', and if the other person has done it, they drink. You can also say something you know you've done, like the arrest statement, in which case we both drink.
[There's something incongruously relaxing about the wall of noise and general atmosphere of good-natured chaos. He doesn't really like spending too much time planetside; that feeling of stillness, the absence of the thrum of engines under his feet, puts him on edge. Somewhere like this there's at least enough of a buzz in the air to distract from it and dull that edge of restlessness.
He reaches for the bottle as Peter explains the rules of the game, cracking it open and pouring them two shots to get started with as he mulls over the rules. It seems straightforward enough. Also seems like it's got a chance of going sideways on them, but hey, all they gotta do is not pry too hard if something really unexpected comes up]
So like— [He flashes Peter a grin and raises his glass in anticipation of a clink followed by them both drinking] —never have I ever busted outta prison?
[ Missouri is not the most exciting of the states, nor is St. Charles the craziest of places to live in, so there's no doubt that if Rocket stayed here for long, it would drive him nuts. He might have more excitement in places like Las Vegas, or even New York—if there was no alien invasion happening or anything of the sort. And even if it was, it would make him feel more at home.
Things never go as they want them to, but that's nothing new for them, and Peter knows they can roll with the punches. Plus, he wants to keep Rocket in a good enough mood to get him to sing something. ]
Exactly like that. [ Peter grabs his glass, clinks it against Rocket's on cue, and downs it after returning the smile. ] Ah, but that was just too easy. Your statement, not the escaping prison part. Fleeing the Kyln was insane but cool.
[ Turning off the gravity and then using the guard room as an improvised flying ship? Amazing. Plus it was the first time they started to work together as a team. Peter fills their glasses again, briefly humming to himself as he ponders what to say. ]
Never have I ever purposely stolen some bastard's prosthetic limb. By the way, what did you even do with that arm Nebula gave you for Christmas? Was it really Bucky's?
[Rocket looks distinctly smug at the compliment. He's been responsible for a wide and varied history of prison breaks over the years, but the Kyln was definitely some of his finest work. Sure, there's no extra points for style as long as you get to where you're going in one piece, but man, sometimes it's fun to have the chance to throw together something with a little flair.
He refills both of their glasses, and no sooner has he set the bottle down again than he's knocking his own shot in one smooth motion. He gestures pointedly at Peter with the empty glass] You better be drinkin' for that one too, don't think I forgot about you stealin' that guy's leg back in the Kyln.
[The vodka goes down easy, but there's a satisfying burn to it that promises to get the job done just fine. He tops his drink off again and picks it back up, resting the cool rim of the glass against his cheek]
Got it up on my wall back on Knowhere, 'course [The way he grins makes it really hard to tell if he's joking. He shrugs] I dunno. Looks about right, and it was all terran tech inside when I cracked it open. And you know Nebs. I don't think she'd half ass it.
[ Peter snorts in amusement at Rocket who's almost preening at being called out. Of course, the guy would be proud of it, of course. This time it's well deserved, so Peter lets him have this moment.
For a few seconds, that's it. ]
Uh huh, nah, I won't drink. Because I never stole that guy's leg. I paid him a little fortune in units for it. Thank you for that, by the way, your little joke cost me a lot of money.
[ Not even back then he was jackass enough to steal someone's limbs, unlike Gamora, who had very little qualms about ripping off the guard's security band from his forearm to get it. The guard deserved it, that made a world of difference.
But now...glorious payback after all these years! It's Peter's turn to look like a particularly smug cat over the corpse of a bird it brought to its owner. ]
The key to winning this game is in the details, my friend. [ He adds, holding the glass but making no attempt at drinking its contents. His green eyes are bright, but it's not because the first shot was enough to get him even buzzed; it's just nice to see Rocket this relaxed. ]
I'd believe it. [ It is very hard to tell if it's a bluff; with Rocket, there's truly a 50/50 chance. ] Of course, you cracked it open. I think that's Wakanda's tech, so it must be the most high-end stuff you can get on Terra. It's because I know her that I hope she got the arm when Bucky was sleeping and not simply fought him for it. I'd feel bad for him. And also, it's funnier if Bucky just thinks he misplaced it.
[Rocket does not appear perturbed by Peter's refusal to drink, nor is he particularly invested in the traditional concept of 'winning'] I get another drink and you admit you're a dumbass? Man, this game's easy.
[Honestly. Who pays for something you could easily just steal?]
Probably best not to ask too many questions about it.
[He runs his fingers thoughtfully around the rim of the glass] Alright, if that's how it is, better get this one in under the wire then. Never have I ever done karaoke.
What...no, that's not it... Damn it. Count on you to ruin the spirit of the game.
[ He is absolutely not pouting; he's just pursing his lips a bit, and the face he's making clearly screams 'Smartass' at Rocket.
And the answer is Peter. He could have stolen the leg easily, but his conscience would have bothered him. Pesky little thing that he never quite managed to get rid of. ]
We're going to change that. [ Peter sounds almost threatening as he raises his eyebrows and points to Rocket with his glass. Then he chugs it down in seconds, scrunching up his nose briefly as it burns down is throats. ]
Okay, the rest of the game can wait. Pick a song, and I'll do it for ya. I'm dragging you up that stage if I have to.
[There's a special kind of joy in putting that look on Peter's face; the one caught halfway between disbelief and straight up sulking that only comes when one of his half-feral alien crewmates has reached new heights of spoiling his fun. Rocket laughs, free and easy in a way that softens the tired lines around his eyes and lifts a few hard-lived years from his face]
Yeah? [He smirks at Peter and foregoes the shot glass entirely in favor of taking a swing straight from the bottle, eyes sparkling with playful challenge] You think you could drag me anywhere I don't wanna be?
[ Every time Peter thinks he's used to his team's antics, he is proven wrong in the worst of ways. But at least he is never bored. ]
You underestimate how much I want to see you on that stage. And also how much I can lift.
[ He's not Drax or Thor, but Peter is still 6′ 2″ feet of muscle and determination. He's sure he can get away with grabbing Rocket by the waist and throwing him over his shoulder at least once. Until it dawns on Rocket what he's doing and starts to either claw at his back, of course, or maybe he will try to shoot him. But it would still be a worthy attempt. He's sure the girls from the bachelorette party would enjoy the impromptu show.
Instead of doing that, though, he leans in and gives Rocket his best puppy eyes. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
True, roflmao. But they are trying...a little
Dams get fucked up and break too, you know.
[ Living out of spite is something Peter could relate to; it's more sustainable than living out of anger, but both are exhausting options. He also knows that more often than not his own anger is a mask to hide a different emotion, like guilt, fear, or sadness. But this isn't about himself, so he listens and tries to understand where Rocket is coming from. ]
Okay. [ Peter's voice is grave and strained. There's a flare of white-hot fury at the reminder of what these damned scientists did to his friend, and he holds the fork thigh enough that it bends a little. If most of them weren't already dead, he would kill them all again. ]
I can understand that. Wanting to cling to the only things you have left, something that's just yours. Like anger, or to an old Walkman and a nickname that everyone finds ridiculous.
[ Peter pushes his plate of food away, now feeling too queasy to consider eating more. If he thinks too hard about what he saw about the experiments performed on Rocket, the pancakes might make a comeback, and not in a good way. ]
There's no reason why you can't also be more now. You already proved that you're better than that High Evolutionary asshole, hell, you were always better. We're not just the sum of our fuck ups or bad experiences, captain</>. I can't tell you who you were, who your family might have been, I can't help with that. But you have a new family too and we're not going anywhere.
Relatedly I am deeply sorry that Rocket's a dickhead
[There's a sharp flare of irritation in his chest at Quill having the nerve to talk about family and fucking not going anywhere like he didn't ditch them the second he'd worked through his own shit enough to go reconnect with his real family again, but it's a side note beside the deeper, hotter anger that comes with once again being told that what's working for him isn't good enough. That someone else still gets to decide if he needs to be better]
Why does it always have to be more. Is it ever fucking going to be— [His voice cracks slightly and he takes in a deep shuddering breath. The fight is draining out of him, leaving him looking nothing but exhausted in its wake; the fork is still in his hand, but he's staring at the plate like he's forgotten what he's supposed to be doing with it]
Is what I already am ever going to be good enough for fucking anyone? Or is it just this, forever?
It's all cool. Peter expects nothing else
No, but I'd rather have you being honest, even if it comes with a side dish of dickishness.
[ Peter hasn't left forever, and it's not like he plans on forgetting about his team just because he's finally found the courage to go back to Earth and find his Grandfather. It wasn't an easy decision for him to take, either. He's too aliens for earth, too humans for space. Never really fitting anywhere, either, just like the rest of the Guardians. He tries to keep in contact as much as he can while being in a different galaxy than the others, but if he knew how Rocket really feels about that, Peter probably would not be surprised that he feels abandoned. ]
That's not what I fucking meant, Rocket. [ Maybe it's because they're both still hungover, or just because Peter's shit at explaining what he means, but where Rocket is getting exhausted, he's only getting anxious. Peter doesn't want to upset him more than he already is, but he doesn't seem to be able to say the right things either. He runs a hand through his hair, messing the curls further in the process. ]
I'm not looking for a fight. You've always been enough; whatever you choose to do or be, is enough. I just don't like to see you hurting. It's that clear enough for your thick head to get?
Peter, baby, you can do better
He gives up on the pancakes and reaches for the coffee instead, taking a steadying drink. He gives Peter a long, flat look over the mug]
You don't get to have it both ways, Quill. Either you trust me to handle this some way that works for me, or you don't.
[He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, and — summoning all the hard-won patience he learned raising a sapling with a foul mouth and some too-familiar attitude problems — grudgingly makes a peace offering]
Look. If I feel like I'm not handling it, I'll come find you, okay? Or one of the others, if it's after I head out. But no more pushing. I've done all the talking about it I'm gonna do.
Can he, though.....?
All right. [ He will put his faith in Rocket, hope that the guy has at least learned something from how far the guardians would go to try and keep him alive, and that he will truly reach out for them if he needs to. He can only hope Rocket knows he's loved, even if they don't say it out loud or Peter's love might not be worth anything to anyone. ]
No more discussing feelings while hungover, eh...[ He says with a tired, small smile. He reaches for his glass of juice, the conversation left his throat feeling tight and dry. Too damn emotional for your own good, boy. Peter hates for right Yondu was.
He will eventually ask the waitress to pack the leftover pancakes; it doesn't sit well with him to waste food, but for now he's quiet. ]
"Peter's love might not be worth anything to anyone" bruh you can't just do that to my feelings
He snorts something that has pretensions in the direction of being a laugh and makes a token effort to lighten the mood] If it makes you feel any better I woulda punched just about anyone else five minutes ago.
[It's a joke, just about, but there's also no denying that counting the number of people he'd tolerate that kind of well-intentioned prying from would not involve a slow thinker running out of fingers. And just about all of them have called the Milano home at one point or another. Granted, most of them would also know better than to push it, but it's not like knowing how to quit when he's ahead has ever been one of Peter's strong points.
He takes another slow, thoughtful drink of coffee and just...puts his own shit to one side and contemplates Peter for a long moment]
...are you handlin' it?
/Sorry, sorry...(not really)
The attempt at redirecting the conversation towards something more casual is welcome, and this time Peter gives a proper smile. It does make him feel somewhat better, even if that's a very Rocket-like joke. ]
Told ya, I am very lovable. I knew you had a soft spot for me. [ Peter winks at him, of all things, because he can be a little shit too. He knows what Rocket truly meant, and he is aware of how lucky he is that the other likes him enough to not simply storm off or attempt to blow him up with one of his grenades when Peter prods too much.
The question takes him a bit by surprise, not expecting Rocket to want to talk more about anything close to mushy feelings. ]
Ah, yeah, I'm just dandy. [ The blond puts a practiced smile on his face, leaning back against the booth's seat in such a casual way that almost looks 100% genuine.
Truth be told, he is doing better than he was, mainly because he is no longer trying to drink himself to death. So that's progress. The loss of Gamora has turned into a persistent, dull ache in his chest that Peter knows will never go away but that he's learned to live with.
The problem is that, he has no idea what to do with his life anymore. What he's good for. He feels lonely, that's all. ]
It's a little weird to be around so many humans, yet have no idea what happened here for the last 4 decades. [ Peter admits because, after what he put Rocket through, his friend deserves some of the truth. ] My grandfather is also quite old, even for my people's standards, so we're trying to make the best of the time we have left together.
[ He's been mentally preparing himself for yet another loss in the future, so maybe this time he can handle it without losing his mind. ]
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The answer he gets doesn't come from the angle he was expecting; it's not what he'd meant, exactly, but he's not having that fucking conversation twice if he can help it so he's not going to look a gift change of subject in the mouth. He doesn't buy that I'm just dandy for a fucking second, of course, but he's not quite enough of a hypocrite to push it. If Peter wants to pretend everything's fine, that's his business]
Yeah, I bet [The vague impression he'd received from Peter's stories about Terra was a hell of a lot different from what he saw when he finally washed up there. It's funny now, with a bit more context, to look back and realize how much of it had been just...a kid's confused interpretation of the way things worked. An identity cobbled together from songs and half-remembered stories.
After calling it a home port for most of the Blip, Rocket's pretty comfortable with the way things work here; as it turns out, people are just people pretty much everywhere. He can pass for human if he's careful to keep the cybernetics covered and no-one looks too closely at any of the rest. The place is still isolated enough that most people are going to assume slightly weird fellow terran and move on with their lives before jumping to alien. He's spent enough time here now that he can generally bluff his way through anything that still catches him off guard.
He wonders, if you actually counted it up, if he's spent more time here over the last ten years than Quill has. That's a weird thought]
Yeah, it's... [He gives a shrug and a wry half-smile] ...time, huh? That shit gets away from you. [Fuck knows he never expected to live this long]
So...is this you, then? For the foreseeable? [He's not not fishing to find out if and when he's going to have some backup back on Knowhere again, but at the same time...hanging around waiting to see when someone kicks it sounds pretty fucking depressing]
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And yes, his answer has been a transparent attempt at changing the subject and not bothering Rocket anymore, and Peter's glad he took the offered metaphorical olive branch. ]
Yeah. On the plus side, I have so many more cool songs. I've been making new playlists; I have a few for you that I plan on sending through the comms once they're finished. Just so you all don't forget about my impeccable taste in music.
[ And because he knows Rocket likes it, as well as Nebula and Drax, despite claiming the opposite. And an inherent taste for music, and some of Rocket's mannerisms, despite his many (many) oddities —they all had those, anyway— have made Peter question more than once if Rocket was actually also a human. No doubt bringing it up would piss him off, and he doesn't remember his past, but Peter couldn't stop wondering about it after seeing the planet the High Evolutionary designed. It looked way too much like the earth he remembered in his childhood, the man must have visited the planet at some point. It was called Counter-Earth, for fuck's sake. But that's a thought for another time. ]
It does. I'm not even sure how to even count my age anymore since I was gone those five years. My birth certificate says that I am 46 years old, but physically, I'm 41. Schrödinger's age.
[ It's not something he likes to bring up much, the years during the blip, because it's painful for everyone. He leans in to put his elbow on the table, his chin resting on the palm of his hand, and looks closer at Rocket.
It's been great to reconnect with his grandfather; he was an idiot for not doing it sooner, yet in the past there never seemed to be a right moment for it. Part of Peter feels guilty, too, that he has been causing pain to his grandfather for decades due to his issues and fear of rejection. So there's a lot to process still for both of them. However, he can read between the lines about what Rocket is hinting at.; ]
You're not getting rid of me for long. Sorry to ruin your hopes and dreams, buddy.
[ It's what Peter goes for as an answer, again trying to keep things playful but making it clear he's not going to stay on Earth forever. He loves Jason, he's not looking forward to their final day together, but he doesn't belong here. Earth is not a home to him. ]
And you can call me if anything happens, I have the backup ship if I need to leave the planet. Or...if you just miss me so much and you need to see my pretty face in person again.
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I'm here, ain't I? [This is as close as he's going to come to admitting that he has missed Peter this last while, so savor it. Most of the time he doesn't think too hard about it; they'd all gotten used to having a bit more personal space after settling on Knowhere, not constantly tripping over each other the way they had been when they were all living on the ship. They'd got to a point where it wasn't that weird to go a day or two without seeing someone. But every so often he'll turn around to point something out or make some smartass comment, and— just for a second he'll get jerked up short again by Peter not being there. It always leaves him tense and restless afterwards. Too much like those empty days after the Snap.
And sure, the others are still there if he needs to remind himself it's not like that. He can go let Groot kick his ass at videogames, or get a little bit drunk and find a stupid barfight with Drax, or pester Nebs into letting him design some new upgrades for her. But none of it's quite the same as getting to turn round and see Peter right there, like he's supposed to be]
Anyway [He pushes the plate away and gives Peter an expectant grin] I remember hearin' a lot of big talk about showin' me the sights...
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He's always had a strong connection to music because it reminded him of his mother, of family, and he's glad that such a thing had spread to the Guardians and the people he cares about. They need more of that kind of simple joy in their lives. And besides, the music covers for the lack of noise when Peter can't stand the silence. He grew used to the team's presence and occasional yelling, and it feels strange to not have those comforting sounds anymore. ]
Yes, yes you are. Here to fix my grenades and to discover the wonders of pancakes with bacon, and speaking about that... [ Peter makes another gesture to the friendly waiter, so she can come over, pack their extra food, and they can get a move on. As promised, he will take care of the bill and also leave her a good tip. ]
Prepare to be amazed, dude. [ Peter says with a grin that seems to promise the exact opposite. There's not actually a ton of sightseeing to do in a town like this one, if any. But they will be together, and there's a record store that has some interesting stuff that Peter thinks Rocket might actually like, and then they can go buy some actual groceries so they can survive on more than pancakes these next few days. ]
[ It's surprisingly easy to fall into the familiar rhythm of sharing their space, even though Peter's small apartment is nowhere close to the size of their ship or the houses they had in Knowhere. Rocket has only been staying here a few days, but Peter feels already more at ease and calm than in the months when the only people he talked to were Jason and his wife, as well as the occasional clerk or waitress, as he tried to adapt to living on his home planet again.
He doesn't have to watch what he says so closely and worry that people would find it weird or not understand what he's talking about when he mentions things like wormhole traveling, zarg nuts, or credits.
Living together also means that he has all the time in the world to pester Rocket, which is what he is doing on Friday night once the sun sets. ]
Come oooon, it will be fun. The place isn't even that far from here, we only have to walk ten minutes to reach the karaoke Bar. I'll pay for the drinks and the snacks.
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It's a small enough place that he's been crashing on the sofa while he's been here. Not that he's complaining; it doesn't even make the top hundred worst places he's slept. As things that aren't beds go it's pretty comfy. And it's not like he needs that much space anyway: he's not a big guy, and discounting the collection of guns and high explosives he'd mostly left back on Knowhere, the sum total of everything he owns still comes to one not particularly large bag. The subset of clothes he has that won't draw attention on Terra is even smaller.
Pretty much from the moment he'd learned what karaoke was, it had been clear to him that Peter was going to insist they go out and give it a shot at some point. He's honestly surprised — and kind of a little impressed at his teammate's restraint — that it took this long]
Hey, you had me at "bar" [He shrugs and shoots Peter a grin] But hey, you wanna keep tryin' to buy my love, knock yourself out.
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Another factor is that Peter's credits can hardly be used on Earth because they are a whole different currency only accepted across the galaxy. The most expensive thing Peter owns right now is the Bluetooth speaker, and that was a present from Jason's wife. But at least the couch is comfy, and it's also covered in a couple of blankets and quilts because Peter knows Rocket likes to
stealborrows his stuff. He expects at least one of them to go missing by the time Rocket returns to Knowhere. ]Great! I'll lead with that the next time. [ Peter's whole face lights up, and an easy smile spreads across his lips. ]If the way to win your love is through your stomach, I can do that too. Let's get moving then; there's a Bruce Springsteen song with your name on it.
[ Time to practically drag Rocket across town until they find the bar, chatting about music choices all the way. ]
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The air is cool as they make their way through the nighttime streets, faintly damp and whispering with a breeze that's indefinably different from the air circulation on a ship or station. Above them, the stars are distant, dimmed by atmosphere and the haze of light pollution. From here you can almost see why most species started off believing the sky was a flat dome with points of light painted onto it, just a little further beyond the clouds.
The bar itself is already lively by the time they get there, light and noise and warmth spilling out into the street as the door opens. It's busy enough for a good atmosphere without being too crowded. Up on the poky little stage, there's a guy wailing soulfully into a microphone. Rocket considers him dubiously. He doesn't recognize the song, but he's reasonably sure it's not supposed to sound like that]
At least the bar's set good and low I guess [He shrugs and jerks his head towards the bartop] C'mon, if we're gonna have to sit and listen to this, I need a drink.
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And then Thanos happened. Xandar was almost destroyed. Gamora died. A lot of people suffered. The galaxy changed forever, and even after they set it right again, some things were still broken. He was broken. Peter had been miserable for a long time, and their conflict with the High Evolutionary had brought his worst fears to the surface. If he had lost Rocket back then, or any of his friends, he would have lost it forever.
Now that that is over and that he has a much better understanding and acceptance of his place in the universe, Peter is trying to focus on the good things he still has in life. And Rocket, alive and humoring him despite Peter driving him up the wall on occasion, is one of the really few good things he still has.
It's why it's easy to smile and joke around him, sometimes to pull his leg, others simply because Peter is in one of the rare moods where he's genuinely happy, and his smile isn't a mask. That happens more often than not around Rocket.
The fresh air is something he welcomes, especially after living in enclosed ships for so long. The guardians had to stop by planets with actual sunlight every now and then to make sure Groot and Peter could stay in good health, but they never stayed grounded for long. Peter's even gotten a bit more tanned since he started living here and keeps a more stable sleep schedule, so he's feeling more energetic these days. He misses the stars; nothing you can see on Earth compares to the beauty of deep space, but you can't have everything.
Once at the bar, greeted by the lively atmosphere, Peter has to suppress a laugh at the face Rocket is making at the questionable singer. He pats him on the shoulder. ]
The bar is a tripping hazard in hell, and the people here aren't drunk yet, so that's saying something. We can do so much better than that. [ He doesn't have to be told twice, though, moving to take a seat and gesturing to the barman to get their drinks, but instead of asking for a cocktail directly, he turns to grin at Rocket. ]
We should ask for some vodka shots first to warm up. In Terra, we have a lot of drinking games involving those too. Whatcha say?
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They make their way across the bar, weaving around knots of people standing around chatting and drinking. Out of habit he does an absent sweep of the room, making a note of exits and anyone who seems like they might be a threat. The latter doesn't turn up much. In his time on Terra he's learned that the average drinking establishment is fairly tame compared to what he's used to; you've gotta go pretty downmarket to even find a realistic chance of getting into a worthwhile barfight, never mind anything with a body count.
Probably things being that tame would get boring eventually. But for now it's still a novelty, and it's kind of relaxing not having to be too on guard.
He slides onto the barstool next to Peter and answers that grin with one of his own] You know I'm down. What you got in mind?
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The nosiest of the lot right now is a small group of seven women whooping with laughter and chatting loudly on a table close to the stage, their hands full of colorful cocktails. They're all dressed similarly, in black clothes, and bring colorful boas and other silly accessories, except one that's wearing a white dress and crown. So, a bachelorette party, for sure.
Peter gives them an amused, fond look as he watches one of them drag the future bride-to-be on stage for a duet to the song Hips Don't Lie by Shakira before his attention goes back to Rocket. It's nice to see his friend grinning in a way that doesn't mean trouble, but also that doesn't not mean trouble either. A bit of both, as they like it. ]
Something silly and fun, relaxing. Hopefully, that will get us pleasantly buzzed. [ Nothing like the conversation they had over breakfast the other day, he means. Tonight's a night to have a good time. When the barman shows up to take their order, Peter simply asks for a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. ]
Most of the drinking games I know need more than two people to be played, alas, but there's the forever classic 'never have I ever'. With the amount of weird shit we have both done, that one could be something.
Basically, you say something you've never done in the past, like 'I've never been arrested', and if the other person has done it, they drink. You can also say something you know you've done, like the arrest statement, in which case we both drink.
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He reaches for the bottle as Peter explains the rules of the game, cracking it open and pouring them two shots to get started with as he mulls over the rules. It seems straightforward enough. Also seems like it's got a chance of going sideways on them, but hey, all they gotta do is not pry too hard if something really unexpected comes up]
So like— [He flashes Peter a grin and raises his glass in anticipation of a clink followed by them both drinking] —never have I ever busted outta prison?
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Things never go as they want them to, but that's nothing new for them, and Peter knows they can roll with the punches. Plus, he wants to keep Rocket in a good enough mood to get him to sing something. ]
Exactly like that. [ Peter grabs his glass, clinks it against Rocket's on cue, and downs it after returning the smile. ] Ah, but that was just too easy. Your statement, not the escaping prison part. Fleeing the Kyln was insane but cool.
[ Turning off the gravity and then using the guard room as an improvised flying ship? Amazing. Plus it was the first time they started to work together as a team. Peter fills their glasses again, briefly humming to himself as he ponders what to say. ]
Never have I ever purposely stolen some bastard's prosthetic limb. By the way, what did you even do with that arm Nebula gave you for Christmas? Was it really Bucky's?
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He refills both of their glasses, and no sooner has he set the bottle down again than he's knocking his own shot in one smooth motion. He gestures pointedly at Peter with the empty glass] You better be drinkin' for that one too, don't think I forgot about you stealin' that guy's leg back in the Kyln.
[The vodka goes down easy, but there's a satisfying burn to it that promises to get the job done just fine. He tops his drink off again and picks it back up, resting the cool rim of the glass against his cheek]
Got it up on my wall back on Knowhere, 'course [The way he grins makes it really hard to tell if he's joking. He shrugs] I dunno. Looks about right, and it was all terran tech inside when I cracked it open. And you know Nebs. I don't think she'd half ass it.
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For a few seconds, that's it. ]
Uh huh, nah, I won't drink. Because I never stole that guy's leg. I paid him a little fortune in units for it. Thank you for that, by the way, your little joke cost me a lot of money.
[ Not even back then he was jackass enough to steal someone's limbs, unlike Gamora, who had very little qualms about ripping off the guard's security band from his forearm to get it. The guard deserved it, that made a world of difference.
But now...glorious payback after all these years! It's Peter's turn to look like a particularly smug cat over the corpse of a bird it brought to its owner. ]
The key to winning this game is in the details, my friend. [ He adds, holding the glass but making no attempt at drinking its contents. His green eyes are bright, but it's not because the first shot was enough to get him even buzzed; it's just nice to see Rocket this relaxed. ]
I'd believe it. [ It is very hard to tell if it's a bluff; with Rocket, there's truly a 50/50 chance. ] Of course, you cracked it open. I think that's Wakanda's tech, so it must be the most high-end stuff you can get on Terra. It's because I know her that I hope she got the arm when Bucky was sleeping and not simply fought him for it. I'd feel bad for him. And also, it's funnier if Bucky just thinks he misplaced it.
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[Honestly. Who pays for something you could easily just steal?]
Probably best not to ask too many questions about it.
[He runs his fingers thoughtfully around the rim of the glass] Alright, if that's how it is, better get this one in under the wire then. Never have I ever done karaoke.
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[ He is absolutely not pouting; he's just pursing his lips a bit, and the face he's making clearly screams 'Smartass' at Rocket.
And the answer is Peter. He could have stolen the leg easily, but his conscience would have bothered him. Pesky little thing that he never quite managed to get rid of. ]
We're going to change that. [ Peter sounds almost threatening as he raises his eyebrows and points to Rocket with his glass. Then he chugs it down in seconds, scrunching up his nose briefly as it burns down is throats. ]
Okay, the rest of the game can wait. Pick a song, and I'll do it for ya. I'm dragging you up that stage if I have to.
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Yeah? [He smirks at Peter and foregoes the shot glass entirely in favor of taking a swing straight from the bottle, eyes sparkling with playful challenge] You think you could drag me anywhere I don't wanna be?
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You underestimate how much I want to see you on that stage. And also how much I can lift.
[ He's not Drax or Thor, but Peter is still 6′ 2″ feet of muscle and determination. He's sure he can get away with grabbing Rocket by the waist and throwing him over his shoulder at least once. Until it dawns on Rocket what he's doing and starts to either claw at his back, of course, or maybe he will try to shoot him. But it would still be a worthy attempt. He's sure the girls from the bachelorette party would enjoy the impromptu show.
Instead of doing that, though, he leans in and gives Rocket his best puppy eyes. ]
You said you would sing, man. Come on, for me?
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Really sorry for the delay, work killing me this week and I'm exhausted X_x
Same, this week has been a nightmare 😭 also fun fact, I've sung this at karaoke in cosplay as Pet
Gods, I'm sorry. For the bad week and my delay. And ohhh that sounds like fun! It's a great song.
No worries, take all the time you need <3
Thank you! 💗 This week should be a bit less stressful. I hope yours is good too.