A/N:
So I'm still reeling at how surprisingly amazing the recent "Guardians Of The Galaxy" movie is (I've already seen it twice already!).
Going by the amount of fanfics posted so far that feature a certain character who is nothing but 3feet tall and loves nothing but shootin' shit up, I'm gonna assume that many, like myself, have fallin' in love with Rocket Raccoon! :)
Wrote this little fic to add to our growing collection :)
Sorry about bad spelling and grammar!
Read and enjoy! :)
Better Than Eleven Percent
Written by mpkio2
"You know, it's all your fault we got into this mess,"
"What?! You're the one who said, 'Let's do it for the money,',"
"Yeah, and now we ain't getting' any freakin' money cause you screwed up the plan!"
"Your aim was totally off!"
"Will you both shut-up! You're both equally to blame for the failure of this mission!"
"I have to agree with the green wench. Your actions did not properly calibrate to what we all agreed upon. Most disappointing, I must say,"
It had, in a word, been a disaster. The mission had been simple; retrieve a stolen artefact from a notorious thug by the name of Janga The Great, hideout located in the Celestrial head of Knowhere and in return, rewarded seventy-thousand units.
However, the plan (Which Peter rated at a 25% success rate), failed miserably. Due to an unprecedented amount of goons to kill, an unexpected sneeze, gunfire shootin' at a metal container and exploding said container's contents down and onto the unexpecting Guardians below, the team retreated, dashed for the exit, and ran as fast as they could in the direction of their parked ship.
And so here they found themselves; defeated and covered in green slime, walking back to the Milano, all wanting nothing but to wash the horrid, smelling gunk off at once.
"Man, this is gonna be a bitch to wash off," Quill complained, wiping the green slime from the sleeves of his jacket. "This is my favourite coat,"
"Ahh, I feel so sorry for you," Rocket said in mock-sympathy. "At least you don't have it stuck in your fur," The talking-mammal replied, washing an ear with a paw, a disgruntled and disgusted look spread across his face.
Quill looked down to his left at the raccoon and glared. "It's stuck in my hair as well, you know!" The terran-man counted, pointing to his, once golden hair, now covered in green gunk.
"It's stuck in all of my fur!" Rocket disputed, gesturing to his body with both paws. "This is gonna take longer to wash off than just the little bit of hair you have on your head, dumb-ass!"
"I am Groot?" The potted tree-sapling looked up at his furry companion with concerned eyes. Rocket looked down at him, and Peter was sure, as he watched the exchange, saw the raccoon looking down at his friend with…shock? But as quickly as Peter believed to have seen it, Rocket's expression changed to one of disgruntlement.
"Nah, I'll do it myself," Rocket replied to his friend with a shake of the head. "I appreciate it buddy but…" And Rocket stopped, feeling eyes upon him, feeling like the others could understand the interaction between he and Groot, an interaction that was, at one point, exclusive to he and his friend. The scientific-engineered animal could feel his cheeks heating up and, fortunately for him, his fur was covering the blush he was certain was spreading. Shit.
"I am…Groot?" Groot asked, a smile spreading across the little tree-man's lips.
"I am not!" Rocket shouted, a low growl rumbling in his throat. "It's just…oh, bah!" Rocket put his two furry paws to his face and pulled them down in exasperation. "I don't have to explain this," And with a frustrated shrug of the shoulders, Rocket walked on ahead, leaving his companions baffled by the exchange they had just witnessed.
"The furry creature seems agitated," Drax commented, his eyes focussing on Rocket's retreating back, the raccoon only but a few feet in front of the main group. "What is wrong with him?"
"Beats me," Peter replied with a shrug of the shoulders. "If I had to guess though, I think he's just pissed that we ain't gonna get that reward. I mean, seventy-thousand units is a hella lot! Shit, it's probably the most we've ever been offered for a mission,"
Peter heard Gamora sigh beside him. "Perhaps, for once, you are right," she sighed. "I think it will be best if we leave him for the time being,"
"I concur," Drax agreed with a nod of the head.
"No complaints here," Peter said, raising both hands for effect. "I prefer not to get my head blasted," Peter chuckled and his three companions, including Groot, joined.
"I have an idea," Drax said with enthusiasm. "We can ask friend Rocket's tree friend! I'm sure he can give us an explanation that will explain the furry one's behaviour,"
"I am Groot!" The little sapling exclaimed in a small joyful voice, as if Groot wouldn't want enough else but to explain what he and his friend had conversed between each other and, in doing so, explain Rocket's reactions.
However, Peter knew that Drax's idea would result in an answer that neither he, Gamora or Drax could understand.
"I have a feeling," Peter said with a small smile, picking up Groot as he did so. "That the answer we'll get is 'I am Groot,","
The group made a collective sigh, all walking back, feelings of worry and confusion rattling in their heads, all with intention to wash off the green-slime that covered their beings.
But as Peter walked with Gamora, Drax and Groot, his eyes focused on the back of his small raccoon friend, wondering if the failure of the mission; the reason why the team would not be paid, was the real cause for Rocket's ill-tempered feelings…
"No, this can't be happening!" Peter exclaimed, hitting a clenched hand against the main water meter of the Milano. "I thought you said we'd already filled her up!"
"You heard me wrong, Peter Quill," Gamora retorted, her eyes fiery with fight. "If you opened up those ears and listened to me more carefully, you would know I claimed that we were running low and would have to refill as soon as we landed on a planet which restrained water!"
"I am intrigued and infuriated by this predicament," Drax announced, hitting the water meter with a strong fist, resulting in the bowl of the machinery to clank and rattle in discomfort.
"Watch it!" Peter warned, holding both hands onto the bowl, hoping it would stop rattling and wouldn't fall under Drax's brute strength.
"Do you terran people need to open your ears? Why don't you do so? Let me help you, Quill," Drax walked in front of Peter, clenched his hands and readied himself to pull on both of the human's ears.
"My ears don't need opening, Drax!" Peter replied, quickly covering his ears with both hands, preventing the larger male from causing any injury to Peter's small ears. "It was an expression,"
"Oh," Drax replied with a nod. "My apologies,"
"What do we do now, Captain?" Gamora asked with spite. "How do you suggest we solve this problem?"
"How much water remains?" Drax asked.
"About fifty gallons," Peter replied with a sigh, a clenched hand hitting the meter once more. "Damnit!"
"Hey, what gives?!" An annoyed shout echoed down the darkened hallway in the Milano's bowls. "Have we ran out of water or somethin'?!" The owner of the voice made itself present; Rocket walked out from the shadows, a not too pleasant expression on his face and a sleeping Groot in his paws.
"Quill turned it off to conserve what little we have left," Gamora explained, her expression not to far off from Rocket's expression.
"What?!" The talking-raccoon exclaimed, ears flat against his head. "Damnit, Quill! Gamora said we were running out and you ignored her! I should fricken' blast you right here and now for being a complete idiot," And as to emphasis what he was saying, Rocket aimed the plasma gun, which he held in his right paw, at Peter's head.
"Woah there, Rocket!" Peter exclaimed, turning to face the pissed off raccoon, arms raised in a defenceless gesture. "Chill man, I have a solution to this whole thing,"
"Oh pray tell," Rocket snarled, teeth bared, ears still flat. "I'm dying to know what your ingenious solution is. My fur is stinking here!"
"Don't worry," Peter said in a calm voice, talking now to both Drax and Gamora. "Your fur…we won't be stinking any longer…"
"How?" Gamora asked.
"Do tell us of this solution you speak off, Captain Quill," Drax inquired.
Peter smiled and he's eyes flirted over to Gamora. "It's the only way, but…we're gonna have to shower in pairs….if you catch my drift..."
The answer that followed Peter's proposal was silence; silence for a matter of different reasons in position of each guardian; perplexity for Drax, anger from Rocket and embarrassment from Gamora.
Once the awkward silence passed and the guardians composed themselves, questions and retaliation greeted Peter's solution:
"If you think I will let any of you stinking males, especially you, Star-Lord, shower with me, then you are all gravely mistaken!"
"As if I will let any of you jerks shower with me; that's just wrong and gross! What the hell is wrong with you, Quill?!"
"I did not catch your 'drift', Quill? What is this 'drift'? Where is it?"
"All of you shut up and listen!" For lack of their better judgment and for neither of them seeing any other solution to the problem, the other guardians fell silent and listened to their, unofficial captain. "Thank you. We are low on water, enough for, say, two five minute showers. Groot looks clean to me, so we already save water there. If we pair up and shower together, we can get this gunk off ourselves as quickly as possible. It's the only thing we can do…"
Peter allowed time for what he said to sink into each of his team member's heads. Slowly, he could see them all reasoning and thinking, conflict shinning in their eyes, before an unavoidable conclusion settled, acceptance clear to them, but not liking it either.
"Captain Quill speaks great logic!" Drax exclaimed, nodding his head and thumping Peter on the back with a strong hand. "I will agree to this sharing of the water for hygienic and water conserving reasons,"
"Fine," Gamora confirmed, lowering her sword, a weapon Peter hadn't noticed she had unsheathed until now. "But none of you morons, whoever it will be, must speak of what you see. And if you try anything…"
"…You'll kill us?" Peter guessed, half-serious and half-joking, believing that Gamora wouldn't bat an eyelid if she had to result in doing so.
"Worse than that, Quill," And her sword darted almost to Peter's crotch. The man froze, fearing she would swing her weapon in one solid swift, Peter not wanting to say goodbye to an organ that brings him but joy. Losing it would freakin' suck. "OK, OK! Answer loud and clear!"
Gamora smiled slightly, removing the tip of her weapon away from Peter's crotch, sheathing it once more. Peter released a breathe he hadn't known he was holding. "Good,"
"As much as I would have loved to see Captain Star-Dork loose his man-hood, I think you should all know that this slime we're covered in…" Rocket pointed a claw to the gunk that sat on the top of his head. "…yeah, it's actually toxic,"
"What?!" Peter exclaimed, looking down at his jacket for a proper inspection, noticing small bubbles rising up and down on the fabric. "Shit!" He took it off at once and wiped his favourite piece of clothing with his hands, suddenly beginning to feel a slight burning sensation on his skin.
"We need to decide this now!" Gamora announced, not wanting to waste any more time messing about, shouting non-existing threats at one another. "Which of you idiots is with me?"
"Well, I think I-" Peter started, a flirty smile on his lips, his eyes glazing over.
"Not you, Quill!" Gamora interrupted the lustful human, a finger pointed at him. "I still don't trust your pelvic sorcery and your masterful ways of the dance and music,"
"It's not my fault I'm so irresistible!" Peter retorted, again with the same flirty smile.
"We are running out of time," Drax said, irritation evident in his voice. "I feel the burning and I need cleansing of it,"
"Fine," Peter said, taking a coin from his pocket. "This is the perfect way to resolve differences and problems back on my home planet; a tradition I guess you can say,"
"What is this tradition?" Drax asked looking at the coin in Peter's hand.
"A coin toss," Peter answered. "I flip this coin and it will decide who will shower with Garoma and Rocket. I'll choose heads and Drax will choose tails. If the coin lands on heads, I win, but if it lands on tails, you win, Drax. Got it?"
"How can a coin decide-?"
"No time!"
"OK! Here it goes!" And Peter flipped the coin and it landed back on his open palm.
Tails.
"Ahh, god-damnit!" Which meant Peter had to shower with….oh God…Rocket?! And he was so close to seeing Gamora naked! He could have seen such great and wonderful-
"Drax is the winner and showers with me, correct?" Gamora asked, looking at Peter for an answer.
Peter nodded his head deflated. He heard the "shring" of an unsheathing weapon.
"Let's go maniac, you and me, showering together," Gamora said in a controlled fierce demanding voice; damn, it was sexy. "And you know what will happen if you try…"
Upon hearing these words, Peter reflected on the outcome of the coin toss and concluded that perhaps there was a silver lining in not winning.
"Oh no you don't!" Peter felt a clawed paw clench his hand tightly and pulled him forward forcefully down the gangway of the ship. "Me and Star-Dork are first! If I have to do this, I'm doing it first to get it over and done with!"
As Peter allowed the small mammal to pull him along, passing Gamora and a threatened Drax along the way, he couldn't help but agree slightly with him; if they had to do it, might as well get it done quickly.
Shit, this was gonna suck.
Boy, was Peter in for a surprise….
It was awkward. It was uncomfortable.
It was everything Peter exspected it to be.
And he didn't like it at all.
It wasn't as if he hadn't seen the small gun-wielding raccoon naked before; while in the Klyn Prison, Peter had to shower with Drax, Rocket and even Groot on a number of many occasions, where all the inmates had to shower together, male and female seperate, in a colonial shower, showerheads placed on the room's walls, no covering, no wall in between, privacy non existent.
It was in these occasions, in these events when all Guardians were naked that Peter, as much as he tried to shy away, as much as he tried to look at anything else, avoiding eye contact at all costs, noticed his furry companion's….man-hood? Raccoon-hood? Whatever the correct terminology is, Peter saw Rocket's package, and as much as he tried not to think of it, to think of Goroma's tight body, he had to admit that the raccoon was a pretty big size, impressive for a mammal of his stature.
Hey, you try looking anywhere else when put into that situation! All you can see is guy's dicks flapping about!
Peter didn't like it, never enjoyed taking showers with other males, for insecurity reasons, embarrassment or uncomfortableness, Peter didn't care; he just got on with it, washed-up, and got out as quickly as possible. In a prison filled with horny aliens, you would probably do the same thing…
"Are we gonna do this, or what?" An irritated voice demanded, pulling Peter out of his wondering thoughts. "Don't just stand there gawking with your mouth hanging open,"
Peter found the familiar voice to be of the mammal in which his thought's laid interest with, Rocket, who had already removed his orange armour and gun discarded on the side. The Raccoon's back was to him, Peter noticing all of the intricate black wires sticking out of his companion's fur, looking as painful and uncomfortable as Peter thought it felt; though these opinions were never voiced, never reached the mammal's ears.
Rocket was naked and the fact that he and the raccoon were the only two in the shower-room currently, only intensified how…intimate and uncomfortable this whole ordeal was going to be. If Peter had to compare it to anything, it was going to be a battle, one that he wanted to get through and come out alive.
"Fine," Rocket muttered, turning his head to the side so that his voice could be heard. "If you don't wanna shower, I'll get in myself! Hope the toxic burns through ya skin," And with a grunt, the raccoon walked towards the, one-man sized shower cubicle and closed the shutter, the noise of water spraying down echoing off the walls.
Rocket's words settled in Peter's mind, remembering the impending threat of toxic burning his skin. Panic coursed through his body as he felt a burning sensation was over his knees and arms. Ignoring his embarrassment, he quickly removed his under-shirt, took off his jeans and removed his boxers, discarding his clothing on the bench beside the shower.
Before stepping in, he gulped, seeing his friend's shadow through the clear-glass shower shutter. His heart thumped with nervousness…why? What had he to be nervous about? It was only Rocket. Sure this was gonna be uncomforatable, but nerving?
Peter didn't understand what his body was doing, why he felt the way he did. But whatever the answer, he opened the shutter and stepped in.
To say Rocket was shocked was an understatement. The mammal almost jumped upon hearing the shutter open and the human stepping in with him, full-butt naked too. Rocket didn't exspect Peter would actually join him, not when there was little space to move around and how close their bodies would be next to each other.
Although Rocket wanted to get this whole thing over and done with, he couldn't ignore how awkward the whole thing was. What with both of them naked in a closed-space, with Rocket's eye line practically level with Peter's pe-
Shit! And he just had to look, didn't he? Because he couldn't ignore it, not when it was right freakin' there! What was he to do?
Rocket coughed, his eyes darting away, feeling his cheeks heat up and not due to the steam of the hot water that fogged the glass-panel shutter. He continued to scrap his fur, the water running down his fur in rivers, ignoring the human which joined him, soap covering his body, ridding the toxic slime that had stuck to his well-groomed and clean fur.
"Watch it!" The raccoon snarled, turning his muzzle around to stare up at Quill with a glare. "You're spalashin' me here!"
"Well sorry," Quill replied in a settled voice, not even looking down at Rocket, his eyes closed as the water washed down his body, down towards his- shit, stop it! "But if you haven't noticed, this shower isn't big enough for both of us,"
"Then why don't you just get out and leave me alone," Rocket replied, his eyes desperately trying to focus on nothing but Quill's face, and only Quill's face. "You're hoggin' up all the water anyway,"
"I need to get this stuff off too," Quill replied, finally looking down at Rocket with a frown. "I don't want my skin burning off, walkin' around like some freakish inside out guy,"
Rocket snorted. "I think you should. You'll look more attractive-" Rocket froze, his eyes darting to the shower floor, the water hitting the surface hard and fast. An uncomfortable silence grew between the two, neither knowing what to say, how to respond…what to do.
After a moment or two, Rocket's mind turned into gear, composing himself. "You're still ugly though, and don't ya think otherwise!" he said with a fierce snarl, turning around, so that his back was to the man, his tail fluffed up in fear and agitation. Fuck this.
Peter didn't know what to say in response; an insult? Push away the comment dismissively? Ignore it, say nothing? What? What the hell did Rocket even mean by that!? Stupid raccoon!
Instead of fumbling about weighing his options in a appropriate way to respond, Peter opted, instead, doing the thing that came natural to him; he replied with a back handed insult, like the one Rocket blasted at him…
"And I think you could do with trimming your whiskers," Peter replied, not aware of the cocky smile on his face. "You'll get more action…"
Peter saw Rocket freeze for a second and then turned and looked up at him, an expression of confusion, his small eyes reading the man in front of him as if trying to determine whether he was serious or not.
Rocket snorted after a while and continued scrapping at his fur, now choosing to wash the fur on top of his head. "Fuck off, Quill," he cussed.
"What?" Peter asked with a edge of humour in his voice. "I'm being serious! You'll get so many babes wantin' to do you!"
"Fuck, Off. Quill," The genetically modified raccoon growled each word out like knifes cutting his throat, continuing to wash his fur, facing the shower wall, not looking behind him at all. "I don't need to be with anyone,"
"You should try it sometime," Peter replied in a mutter, Rocket not sure he even said it to begin with. He ignored the dumbass humie as he began to wash his back, a task he felt no joy in performing, dread coursing through him as he proceeded.
"Ah, Da'sk!" Rocket exclaimed after a couple of attempts at washing the sensitive fur on his back. "This would be so much easier if Groot was older!"
Peter found himself watching the raccoon as the mammal attempted to wash his back, trying his hardest to twist his arm so that he had a good angle of his back fur. However, try as he might, he never could accomplish the task, and for Peter, he only looked more amusing, twisting and fumbling about, Rocket getting angrier and angrier at every failure.
"Screw this!" Rocket yelled in anger, throwing his sponge on the shower floor. Rocket had had enough; enough with the sharing of water and Peter being a dick and how freakin' uncomfroatable this whole thing-!
He felt it at once, soft and gentle on his back, smoothing and scrapping around the visible wires sticking out, the bumps and bruising, water and soap soothing and cleansing his fur. He froze, yet again.
"Man you looked hilarious," Came Quill's voice from behind, chuckling a little. "But I kinda felt bad just watching you so I-"
And that's when Rocket couldn't take it any longer. In one swift movement, he turned and bit down hard, his teeth sinking into skin and drawing blood. Quill screeched in pain and shock at the unexpected action, tumbled back and fell onto the shower floor. Despite himself, Rocket jumped on top of the naked human, pushed his muzzle into Quill's face and snarled, ears flat against his furry head.
"I don't need ya help, Quill," he said, eyes glaring into Peter's. "And I certainly don't want ya sympathy. I can take care of myself!"
Rocket looked into Quill's eyes and saw the shock within them, saw how he knew he was serious. Rocket expected both emotions, expected this reaction. What he didn't expect was what happened next…
A gentle hand touched his head as the shower water splashed on down towards the two, the raccoon going stiff by the sudden contact, his ears twitching, tail fluffed up, heart-racing…
"I'm just helping a friend out, dude…" Peter replied with a smile. "Can't I do that?"
Upon hearing Quill's words, Rocket looked down. "Stop it…you bastard," he said, a growl rumbling in his throat. "Just leave me alone…" The raccoon didn't move, not breaking the contact between he and Peter's hand…
"I'm not tricking you," Peter said, and he was being honest; for once, he wasn't be a complete dick…he was still a dick, but not in this moment, not now, not with Rocket… "You've been acting strange since we failed that mission. We all noticed and worry-"
"I'm fine," Rocket growled, still not looking up to face Peter, feeling the water splashing down his fur. "And its none of your freakin' business….so just leave me-"
Rocket had no time to react; when it happened, it happened, and there was nothing he could do but squirm under the taller male's arms. He couldn't bite, scratch or even yell. So he did nothing and gave up, all attempts futile, resulting in failure. He went limp, feeling Qui-…Peter's strong arms against his fur, in a tight, strong, yet gentle, embrace.
All Rocket could think was how this was a trick, of how this was a practical joke for all of them to laugh at, how they were all in on it. They just wanted to laugh….like the rest of them do! Those bastards, if he had his gun, he'll show him! Hell blast and blast and-
Another gentle hand, soothing his back, careful and soft and warm and fuck this and fuck you Quill! You know and your toying with me, like I'm a toy, some toy for you to play with, and to pull apart and then to be put back together again and again and again and again-
But there was still room for doubt, and Rocket gave in, despite how much he knew this had to be a joke. There was, yet, and he discovered, part of him that didn't want this to be a joke…wanted this to be, in fact, to be real. He could hear the human's heart-beat, thumping in his warm chest, and Rocket couldn't help but think, couldn't deny how soothing it sounded. He couldn't deny how comfortable he felt.
The gentle hand touched something on his back and his eyes snapped open.
"No!" He screamed, and with all his might he wiggled he's way out of Peter's arms, opened the shutter with both paws and jumped for his gun, grabbing it and aiming it at the human's leg. "I won't be tricked and I won't be a play thing for you to pull apart! Fuck you, Quill!"
But before Rocket could pull the trigger, Peter had already jumped on top of the small mammal, pulled the gun out of Rocket's claws and threw it, with one hand, to the other side of the room, where it hit against the wall and smashed to the floor with a loud clank.
"What the hell, Rocket?!" Peter screamed down into the raccoon's face, who snarled and spat at him, wiggling beneath him. "I'm being freakin' serious here! I'm not tricking you and I'm not playing-"
"Liar!" Rocket screeched, Peter's eyes widened upon hear the mammal's voice break. "You're laughing at me…like the rest of the galaxy is! You dick!"
A heavy pause settled within the room, the sound of dripping water hitting the floor from within the shower cubicle echoing around the bathroom walls. Rocket just closed his eyes when he knew he couldn't move anymore, when he knew he felt too exhausted, when he knew he couldn't take it anymore…
It was light and soft and Rocket thought it was too good to be true. But he enjoyed the sensation and craved to feel more. He moved into the contact and placed upon something soft. But just as he was enjoying himself, the contact diminished and he was left alone for more.
"Yeah, I am a dick…" Rocket heard Peter's voice almost whisper. "But I'm not one hundred percent of a dick right now. Maybe…twelve percent? Is that OK?"
"But…I don't trust ya…I can't…"
Peter leaned down and kissed Rocket square on the muzzle, once more. The raccoon recipitated his actions and was already leaning into the action. Star-Lord broke the kiss.
"That kiss told me otherwise," he said with a cocky smile.
"Screw you," Rocket replied, punching the man lightly on the arm, giving his own cocky smile to the man. "Fuck, this is so wrong," he grunted out, looking up at the man with a unreadable expression. "I mean…your a humie! And a guy!"
"Don't you think I already know that?" Peter replied, assuming the same expression was plastered on his face. "My brain is having a hard time trying to process this shit and all of the moral ambiguity that goes along with it!" And then a sick and twisted thought entered Peter's mind, one that he wish he could wash clean off, like the green slime that had previously stuck to his body, deny it was ever there to begin with…would it be considered bestiality if anything….intimate occurred between the two of them? I mean, it was just gonna be a bit of fun…
"Peter!" Rocket exclaimed, shocking Star-Lord, for it was the first time Rocket had even addressed him by his first name. "Is that your…? Are you getting' turned on?"
Peter could feel his man-hood growing in size against Rocket's fur, both males still in the same position on the bathroom floor, Rocket on the floor, Peter on top.
"I'm not the only one…" Peter commented, noticing the raccoon's penis unsheathing itself and growing in size. "Am I that irresistible, Rocket?"
"F-Fuck off, Q-Quill!" Rocket retorted with a growl, his eyes looking away, Peter sure the animal was blushing under his fur. "And no, your but ugly,"
Peter ignored the comment and slowly placed a hand around Rocket's…..Rocket. It was four inches, pink and smooth. It was a first for Peter, being with both a male and with something of a different species. Old saying…first time for everything applies here, huh? And Peter was sure the same could be said for Rocket.
Peter felt the mammal gasp in shock at the sudden touch. "Q-Quill, what the hell are ya-?! I-I don't swing that-!" But before Rocket could finish his sentence, a moan escaped through his lips.
"Neither do I," Peter said, concluding Rocket's sentence, moving his right hand slowly, up and down, along Rocket's shaft. "But it's just some fun between friend's, right?"
Rocket replied with another groan and Peter smiled. "I'll take that as a yes,"
Peter continued stroking, moving up and down in a rhythmic pattern. Rocket moaned and groaned.
"Quill…" the raccoon gasped in a soft voice, the quietest Peter had ever heard, his leg moving back and forward like a dog; Peter smiled at the action.
But then Peter felt something in his groin area; two small paws were wrapped around his member, pumping like he was some cow to be milked. He groaned and moaned himself as he felt pleasure build. He looked down, thinking Rocket was using his forepaws, but he was surprised when he found Rocket's fore-paws on his stomach. Which could only mean…he was using his hind legs?
Rocket certainly was and Peter thought he was doing an excellent job.
"I'm not- the only- one who- needs…a…ughh….hand," the raccoon gave a cocky smile to the human, panting and moaning. "Lets….Oh, Yeah….see who wins…."
And both picked up the speed and both were faster; Peter pumped Rocket's pink rocket as fast as he could, Rocket pumping both hind-paws around Peter's member, wanting to win. Sweat poured off their bodies, both moaning and grunting and the pleasure rising and rising until-
Semen squirted all over each other's bodies, both at the exact same time. Rocket growled as he felt the spunk rise out of him and Peter moaned feeling his member pulse as the raccoon milked him mad.
As their ejaculations ended, Peter slowly laid on top of Rocket, trying his best not to hurt him as he did so, panting all the while.
"Woah," Peter said after a moment. "I never knew you had it in you, Rocket,"
"I usually only have the need for release when I go in heat," Rocket explained, panting like Quill. "But, there are times….well you freakin' know,"
A silence.
"Shit," Peter cussed. "We're gonna need another shower now,"
"What's the problem with that?" Rocketed asked, eyebrow raised.
"We used up all the water…"
"Ahh, shit. Gamora's gonna kill us!"
"Nah, she'll cut off my dick!"
Rocket snorted. "You dick,"
"Not a complete dick," Peter smirked.
"No-one must know," Rocket said, voice turning serious, a growl rumbling in his throat. "And if you tell a soul, next time I won't hesitate to pull the trigger,"
"Hey, you don't have to warn me," Peter retorted, slowly rising and looking down into his friend's eyes. "I'm not that stupid,"
"But you are a dumbass," Rocket replied with a smirk. "A humie dumbass that I trust by only twelve percent,"
Peter responded with a smirk of his own as he leaned down…
"That's better than eleven…"
- THE END-
A/N:
And that's it! All done!
First "Guardians Of The Galaxy" fanfic, and first Peter/Rocket slash fic. Hope you enjoyed. Turned out a lot longer than first anticipated, but I think it's pretty good the way it turned out.
I hope I kept all character in-character – If I haven't, let me know in a review.
Thinking of continuing but not sure; I'll let you guys decide that one for me! :)
Anyway, please leve a review of what you thought of my first GOTG fanfic. I appreciate all the love you guys show! Did I mention how much I love this couple?
Thank you all.
Until next time!
~mpkio2~
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