[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.Â
[ 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.Â
[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. ]
[Rocket's fully aware he's not a big guy, especially not beside some of his more solidly built teammates; never mind Peter, Nebula's taller than him. It's not something he's ever found to be any particular disadvantage in a fight; he's fast and vicious and the cybernetics mean he packs a punch wildly disproportionate to his actual size. Peter's no slouch in a brawl either, but if it comes to it, he likes his chances.
Not that it will come to it. They're just messing around. But there's a part of his brain that's always assessing everyone around him as a potential threat, and even after all these years, he still hasn't found a way to turn it off.
He makes a show of pretending to mull it over as he pours himself another drink, playing at needing to be convinced. He rolls his eyes and knocks back another shot] Quit lookin' pathetic at me, Quill
[He considers the small stage, currently in the process of being vacated by the herd of drunk women who'd previously claimed it. He doesn't know what the repertoire this place has is like, but to hear Peter tell it, everything in his collection is a universally beloved classic]
I don't know why you're tellin' me to pick a song like you don't know damn well most of the terran music I know's all your fault.
[ Size isn't all that matters, and Peter has had enough fights with Rocket in the past to know better than to underestimate him. Not to say it wouldn't be funny to carry the guy like a sack of potatoes or even bridal style to see if that would get him flustered, but he's learned how and when to pick his battles.
They're not here to fight, anyway; they were here to be silly, drink, and embarrass themselves by signing off-key as per tradition when you do Karaoke. Rocket's thoughtful expression doesn't fool him; if the man didn't want to do this, he wouldn't be here in the first place, so he just waits and looks at him with even bigger eyes on purpose. ]
Yesss! [ Peter refrains from fist-bumping the air, but he grabs the bottle and takes one last, quick swing of it, smiling. Then he stands up and links his arm around Rocket's, walking them both to the stage. ]
Yes it is; you're very welcome. [ On a tall table next to the stage, there's a tablet functioning as the karaoke machine, with a lot of playlist lists to choose from and a bunch of microphones. Peter grabs a very flashy pink microphone and handles it to Rocket. But to be fair, he grabs a matching one in a purple color. ]
I was giving you the chance to choose which song you think best displays your musical talents. The songs here are organized by year; I'm sure you know most of the ones listed on the 70s and 80s playlists.
[He wouldn't have thought anything he said right there was that clear an agreement, but it's hard to do anything other than let himself be swept along with the tide of enthusiasm and let Peter tow him up to the stage. Once again he's struck by how little it takes to make the guy happy.
He gives the neon monstrosity in his hand a dubious look, but quickly dismisses it as unimportant in favor of skimming through the song list. He's not particularly invested in finding an opportunity to show off — he knows what his strengths are and singing ain't one of 'em — and pretty much just hits the first one he recognizes. The opening notes of Hooked On A Feeling ring out in the bar as he lets Peter drag him up onto the stage with only minor eyerolling]
Really sorry for the delay, work killing me this week and I'm exhausted X_x
[ Peter isn't looking when Rocket chooses the song, busy making sure his mic is on, but he immediately recognizes the song after the first notes fill the air. If Rocket thought that making him happy was easy before, he's got further confirmation now that Peter's giving him another honest, sunshine smile. ]
Good choice! That's probably one of my all-time favorites.
[ The girls from the bachelorette party eye them as they get on stage, clearly happy about having someone else offer a show, or maybe about having someone to laugh at. Probably both. It's crystal clear that these are not their first round of cocktails. Not that Peter is paying attention to them. Right now, his entire focus is directed at Rocket, and he sings the very familiar lyrics of the songs, starting it. ]
I can't stop this feeling, deep inside of me, girl, you just don't realize what do you do to me.
[ He's not making an effort to sound perfect, but he's sung this song so many times over the decades that it takes him no effort to get the rhythm and tone right. If the drinks keep coming during the night, his capacity to vocalize will be impaired, but for now, it's holding up pretty well. ]
[ He expects Rocket to start signing along eventually, but even if he doesn't, Peter is going to wrap an around his shoulder before he starts on the second verse, and pull him closer. ]
When you hold me, in your arms so tight, you let me know, everything's alright...
Same, this week has been a nightmare 😠also fun fact, I've sung this at karaoke in cosplay as Pet
[There's some token grumbling, and an eyeroll as Peter's arm wraps around his shoulders, but for the most part he just...lets it happen. Weird how that's become such a recurring theme. Peter gets away with things that no-one else would even try for fear of losing limbs.
Performing like this isn't exactly his style, but he knows how to hold a tune at least, and he's heard this song so many times he could echo it back in his fucking sleep. Neither of them are paying any attention at all to the lyrics on the screen.
It's seems like it's going down pretty well — the yelling from the crowd seems more enthusiastic and jeering in any case — and he can't help but grin over at Peter as they hit the chorus, getting into enjoying it a little almost despite himself]
Edited (HIT ENTER BY ACCIDENT THERE MY BAD) 2024-10-24 11:52 (UTC)
Gods, I'm sorry. For the bad week and my delay. And ohhh that sounds like fun! It's a great song.
[ The grumbling is nothing Peter isn't already expecting, and thus he doesn't pay much attention to it. Rocket will be Rocket. He wouldn't have him any other way, and it's not as if that will ever stop Peter from reaching out to the other man in little shows of camaraderie. It's exposure therapy, and maybe if he keeps doing it, Rocket will eventually get a little bit used to friendly contact and stop looking like Grouchy from Sesame Street.
It's not the first time they sang together; all the Guardians do it often when they play music on the ship's sound system during long travels, so it's not that difficult to harmonize together. Rocket has a good voice for singing, even if he might not believe Peter telling him that.
When they get to his favorite part of the song, Peter grins back at Rocket, keeping eye contact with him for the duration of the song. He is pretty sure he's never put so much effort into singing a song properly in his life.
There are some shouts from the audience, but mainly all sound encouraging, and he's sure he even hears some applause, which gets Peter laughing when the song finally ends. ]
That was pretty damn good, if I say so myself. [ Peter murmurs while lowering the mic, so only Rocket hear him. ] Wanna go for another, or...?
[ He will leave the choice to Rocket, but he's sure the rest of the people at the bar won't mind of them doing a reprise. It's not like there's a fixed order about who gets on stage to embarrass themselves. ]
[Peter's enthusiasm is contagious; he can't help but grin back, getting into the song. Whatever he might have thought of it if he'd ever heard it without context, it's now forever the sound of home and people he cares about, part of the background noise of the life they've made for themselves. With all the weight of that behind it, how's he supposed to do anything else?
The final few notes wrap up to the sounds of drunken applause and the odd scattered cheer, which does at least suggest they haven't embarrassed themselves too badly. He gives a fond eyeroll and grabs Peter by the arm to tow him back off the stage]
Don't hog the mic, man, everyone else's got some tunes to butcher too [He sets the mic back down in passing and weaves his way through the crowd towards the seats they'd claimed] If we're goin' again, I need some more to drink first.
Thank you! 💗 This week should be a bit less stressful. I hope yours is good too.
[ This was also one of Meredith's favorite songs, and the reason why she included it in the first cassette she left for Peter. Sharing her music with the people Peter loves was a way to keep his mom's spirit alive, but the best memories he has about the song are forever interlinked with the experiences he's lived with his friends. ]
Aw, spoilsport. But you do have a point; we need refreshments.
[ Peter makes a brief hand gesture toward the audience, half a playful salute and half a wave, as they vacate the stage. A couple of the bride-to-be friends wave back, and another one is already leaving her seat to go grab one of the mics and start a new song herself.
The now half-empty bottle of vodka and their two glass shots are still where they left them by the bar, and Peter reaches for it as he takes a seat.]
Now we can cross Karaoke from your bucket list. You're a natural, trust me on this. [ After filling both glasses, Peter slides one towards Rocket and raises his own for a small toast. ] Cheers!
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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.Â
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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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Not that it will come to it. They're just messing around. But there's a part of his brain that's always assessing everyone around him as a potential threat, and even after all these years, he still hasn't found a way to turn it off.
He makes a show of pretending to mull it over as he pours himself another drink, playing at needing to be convinced. He rolls his eyes and knocks back another shot] Quit lookin' pathetic at me, Quill
[He considers the small stage, currently in the process of being vacated by the herd of drunk women who'd previously claimed it. He doesn't know what the repertoire this place has is like, but to hear Peter tell it, everything in his collection is a universally beloved classic]
I don't know why you're tellin' me to pick a song like you don't know damn well most of the terran music I know's all your fault.
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They're not here to fight, anyway; they were here to be silly, drink, and embarrass themselves by signing off-key as per tradition when you do Karaoke. Rocket's thoughtful expression doesn't fool him; if the man didn't want to do this, he wouldn't be here in the first place, so he just waits and looks at him with even bigger eyes on purpose. ]
Yesss! [ Peter refrains from fist-bumping the air, but he grabs the bottle and takes one last, quick swing of it, smiling. Then he stands up and links his arm around Rocket's, walking them both to the stage. ]
Yes it is; you're very welcome. [ On a tall table next to the stage, there's a tablet functioning as the karaoke machine, with a lot of playlist lists to choose from and a bunch of microphones. Peter grabs a very flashy pink microphone and handles it to Rocket. But to be fair, he grabs a matching one in a purple color. ]
I was giving you the chance to choose which song you think best displays your musical talents. The songs here are organized by year; I'm sure you know most of the ones listed on the 70s and 80s playlists.
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He gives the neon monstrosity in his hand a dubious look, but quickly dismisses it as unimportant in favor of skimming through the song list. He's not particularly invested in finding an opportunity to show off — he knows what his strengths are and singing ain't one of 'em — and pretty much just hits the first one he recognizes. The opening notes of Hooked On A Feeling ring out in the bar as he lets Peter drag him up onto the stage with only minor eyerolling]
Really sorry for the delay, work killing me this week and I'm exhausted X_x
Good choice! That's probably one of my all-time favorites.
[ The girls from the bachelorette party eye them as they get on stage, clearly happy about having someone else offer a show, or maybe about having someone to laugh at. Probably both. It's crystal clear that these are not their first round of cocktails. Not that Peter is paying attention to them. Right now, his entire focus is directed at Rocket, and he sings the very familiar lyrics of the songs, starting it. ]
I can't stop this feeling, deep inside of me, girl, you just don't realize what do you do to me.
[ He's not making an effort to sound perfect, but he's sung this song so many times over the decades that it takes him no effort to get the rhythm and tone right. If the drinks keep coming during the night, his capacity to vocalize will be impaired, but for now, it's holding up pretty well. ]
[ He expects Rocket to start signing along eventually, but even if he doesn't, Peter is going to wrap an around his shoulder before he starts on the second verse, and pull him closer. ]
When you hold me, in your arms so tight, you let me know, everything's alright...
Same, this week has been a nightmare 😠also fun fact, I've sung this at karaoke in cosplay as Pet
Performing like this isn't exactly his style, but he knows how to hold a tune at least, and he's heard this song so many times he could echo it back in his fucking sleep. Neither of them are paying any attention at all to the lyrics on the screen.
It's seems like it's going down pretty well — the yelling from the crowd seems more enthusiastic and jeering in any case — and he can't help but grin over at Peter as they hit the chorus, getting into enjoying it a little almost despite himself]
Gods, I'm sorry. For the bad week and my delay. And ohhh that sounds like fun! It's a great song.
It's not the first time they sang together; all the Guardians do it often when they play music on the ship's sound system during long travels, so it's not that difficult to harmonize together. Rocket has a good voice for singing, even if he might not believe Peter telling him that.
When they get to his favorite part of the song, Peter grins back at Rocket, keeping eye contact with him for the duration of the song. He is pretty sure he's never put so much effort into singing a song properly in his life.
There are some shouts from the audience, but mainly all sound encouraging, and he's sure he even hears some applause, which gets Peter laughing when the song finally ends. ]
That was pretty damn good, if I say so myself. [ Peter murmurs while lowering the mic, so only Rocket hear him. ] Wanna go for another, or...?
[ He will leave the choice to Rocket, but he's sure the rest of the people at the bar won't mind of them doing a reprise. It's not like there's a fixed order about who gets on stage to embarrass themselves. ]
No worries, take all the time you need <3
The final few notes wrap up to the sounds of drunken applause and the odd scattered cheer, which does at least suggest they haven't embarrassed themselves too badly. He gives a fond eyeroll and grabs Peter by the arm to tow him back off the stage]
Don't hog the mic, man, everyone else's got some tunes to butcher too [He sets the mic back down in passing and weaves his way through the crowd towards the seats they'd claimed] If we're goin' again, I need some more to drink first.
Thank you! 💗 This week should be a bit less stressful. I hope yours is good too.
Aw, spoilsport. But you do have a point; we need refreshments.
[ Peter makes a brief hand gesture toward the audience, half a playful salute and half a wave, as they vacate the stage. A couple of the bride-to-be friends wave back, and another one is already leaving her seat to go grab one of the mics and start a new song herself.
The now half-empty bottle of vodka and their two glass shots are still where they left them by the bar, and Peter reaches for it as he takes a seat.]
Now we can cross Karaoke from your bucket list. You're a natural, trust me on this. [ After filling both glasses, Peter slides one towards Rocket and raises his own for a small toast. ] Cheers!