Yondu likes bautiful and expensive things. He likes things that are cute and fuzzy as is evident from his dash board on the ship.

When he first sees Kraglin he is neither of those things. He's lanky, with too long hair, he's standing on a corner of a filthy street.

Kraglin likes food. He likes the feeling of warmth. He's never sensed belonging and safety but he thinks he'd really like those too.

When he first sees Yondu, neither of the nice feelings are brought up in him.

As the two men stand on the corner under a barely there light of the lamp post, there is something in them that attracts each other.

-You any good at managing vutures, keeping books, and fighting?

-I've never been on a ship, but I've had plenty of people under me, and they've always followed my... directions, lets call it.

- And fighting?

-I can dance like no other.

When the moment passes, the corner is empty and the ramble of the Ravagers ship is distant.

Yondu likes beautiful and deadly things. And when Kraglin twists and twirls with his staff and his knife he is as deadly as the black hole sucking his heart and soul inside itself.