Gamora had once again chosen to take an early departure, dragging baby-Groot with her and followed shortly by Nebula. Mantis had stayed, but that was mostly because she'd already passed out and now snored happily against Drax's shoulder, so that basically it was just Peter, Drax, Rocket and Kraglin in the bar.

That said, there was no-one to put a filter in Peter's mouth as he blurted out, "What is the strangest kink that any of your partners has ever had?"

Silence. If any connection between Peter's head and mouth had been working, now would have been the moment for him to empty his mug and hit the bed. But because that didn't happen, he just looked at his friends with a completely innocent smile upon his face.

"Because", he continued, "believe me, I've seen all. But I'll give you a try; go on. You'll never top my story, anyways…"

"Is it about Gamora? Because if it is, I don't wanna hear it", Rocket remarked.

"No, I'm not suicidal", Peter reassured. "Now come on, let's hear it; or are you all going to chicken out?"

Now that was a dare, and no-one would say that Drax was one to retreat from the challenge. "My wife", he said with a voice that was little too load to comparing of the topic of their discussion, "always took her knives to the bed with her. She used them to carve me a new mark every time we made love, so that I would remember…" the warriors smile turned wistfully as it always did when he remembered his late wife. "She was quite skilled with them, too…"

"Wait – are you telling me that some of those tattoos are made by her? Which ones?" Rocket interrupted, gesturing towards Drax's pattern-covered upper body.

"No, her markings are lower; I can –" Drax started to stand up, making Mantis reel and hit her head on the table. She moaned softly, but didn't wake up.

"No! There's no need!" Peter said hurriedly, not wanting to even think about Drax dropping his pants down in the middle of bar. "Okay, that was very… sweet. So, Kraglin's next; what about you?"

The ravager's eyes went wide. "What? Who? Me?"

Peter smirked. "Hey, I'm sure you've got lots of stories to tell…"

"Ahem, I'm not sure… I really don't believe that you of all people would like to hear of my, em…"

"What? Why not?"

Kraglin looked at him little sheepishly and said only one word, "Yondu."

Due his current state, it took a few seconds from Peter's hammered brains to catch up what was going on. "Wait – you and Yondu -?" he squawked.

"Yes", Kraglin admitted. "Um… surprise?"

"But, but, but… What? Since when?" Peter almost cried out. "Why the heck did nobody tell me?"

The ravager shrugged. "Never seemed necessary… Now, do you really want me to tell? Because I thought that it would be little strange, considering…"

"No, no! Not a word!" Peter yelled. No way did he want to think what kind of bedroom habits his self-proclaimed daddy used to have… "I think I'm going to be sick…"

Drax turned to smile at Rocket. "So what about you, my furry friend?"

The not-raccoon looked at him questioningly. "Huh?"

"Surely you aren't planning to stay out of the competition?" the warrior pressed on.

Despite his drunken state, Peter shuddered by that. It was so Drax-like to not take a heed of one, unsaid rule: Do not pry Rocket's past. Just… don't. "Drax, I don't think-"

Surprisingly, Rocket hadn't yet grabbed his gun, and the fact that he actually answered proved that he was more hammered that Peter had thought that he was. "Well, there was this one asshole; he used to masturbate while watching me to maintain my guns…"

"…What?"

"I said: There was this asshole who –"

"I heard what you said!" Peter corrected hurriedly. "I just – who? Was they like, you know… Was they like you?" Because no matter how intelligent Rocket was, he was still a raccoon, for goodness sake, and the idea of someone taking their junk out in front of him was… well, disgusting.

"There's no-one like me!" Rocket said firmly. "But he did come from the same production line, so I guess one could say that we're somewhat similar… Even though he's a complete loser…"

"Oh. Well, good… I guess", Peter stammered. Never had Rocket told them that much about his past, and voluntary on top of that. "So… is there more of you? From the same "production line"?"

"There was. Me, Lylla, Wal Rus… Now only me and that asshole." Then Rocket apparently realized that he'd let out too much, since he glared Peter scornfully, making him to raise his hands up as a sign of surrender.

"I still don't understand", Drax pointed out. "Why would you trifling with your weapons to excite someone?"

"Hey, don't ask me how that maniac's brains work!"

Then Drax slapped Peter on the back in a way that for him was probably supposed to be a friendly tap, and said, "Your turn, Star-Lord! Now, let as hear your story."

Peter coughed to catch his breath before smirking sluggishly. "Okay, open your ears, because there was this one chick… She wanted to do it in a coffin, previously inhabited by a corpse…"

"I'm not drunk enough for this", Kraglin muttered and rose up, making his leave.

"… and filled with maggots", Peter shouted after him, victorious smile upon his face.

"I think that I should take Mantis to bed", Drax said and stood up with the snoring girl on his arms.

"So did you?" Rocket asked.

"What?"

"Do it."

Peter shrugged. "Well, she was a looker… But I made a strict limit on the point where she wanted us to be actually buried under ground…"