Every Year: Part One
Peter's entire face was alight with a cheesy grin, from the moment he went to bed at night til the next morning. He'd been looking forward to today for the last 365 days, which compromised an entire Terran year - not that the rest of the guardians would know that. Except maybe Rocket, who was well versed in primarily useless facts.
That was the thing about Rocket; he was a plethora of bizarre knowledge. Not anything particularly useful unless an incredibly specific situation were to arise, but simply things he'd picked up from his trek throughout the galaxy. Not to say he wasn't full of useful knowledge as well, but some of the things he knew of seemed to be unnecessary.
Like that Drax sat down to pee.
How Rocket discovered that, Peter wasn't entirely sure, and had no interest in finding out.
All (or most) thoughts of Rocket aside, however, Peter was ecstatic. Blasting his music at full volume and effectively waking up the remaining guardians, Peter danced his way into the common area, mouthing the lyrics as he went.
"For the sake of our eardrums and sanity, Quill, turn that d'ast racket down!" Snarled the decidedly peeved tone of Rocket as he meandered into the main room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
A gentle yawn escaped Gamora's mouth as she too approached, her hair an alluring mess. "I do like getting up early," her voice came out smooth yet rigid with exhaustion. "But I don't like when it's to this song. At least put on the one that the tree enjoys, Star-lord."
Peter's lips tugged into a fresh grin. Being called by his outlaw name was something he enjoyed, and Gamora knew that. "You'll never guess what today is."
"Drive-us-all-to-want-to-throttle-you day? Because that ain't nothin' special, Quill." Rocket tugged at his ears in growing fury. "Turn it down!"
"I too find the volume of Marvin Gaye's voice unnecessary," Drax concurred, brandishing a blade that he'd been polishing apparently the night before as he entered the room.
Without verbally responding, Peter moonwalked backwards to push the dial so that the volume was at an acceptable level. He glanced over to Rocket in hopes that it appeased his friend, only to find that unfortunately Rocket was rubbing his temples in the way that he did when he got a headache. Oops.
"What is so important about today?" Gamora inquired, pulling open one of the kitchen drawers to gather some pans and utensils.
To her side, Drax opened up the fridge of the Milano to pull out some vegetables and began to mince them. Rocket watched them work in unison with crossed arms; Peter could tell that he was a bit angry about being banned from cooking. But hey, they couldn't risk him catching his tail on fire again, or deciding that washing his hands wasn't important and therefore giving all of them food poisoning.
"Today's my birthday!" Peter clasped his hands together in excitement.
"Birthday," Drax repeated, as though the word was foreign to him. "You gave birth today? I... Did not know that male Terrans-"
"Oh my God no," Peter interrupted, wincing at the very thought.
Before he could elaborate, Rocket intervened with a sneer. "A birthday is some humie holiday. They celebrate the day that they popped out of their mommy's vagina like, every year, or somethin' stupid like that."
Gamora perked up at this, cracking two eggs into a pan as Drax swiveled around her to place spices and vegetables over them.
"I recognize this tradition. On my home planet, we did something similar." She responded, and there was a moment of nostalgic agony that flitted through her eyes.
"I do not understand," Drax's brows furrowed. "All Terrans were born on the same day?"
"No you idiot-" Rocket snapped. "It's them celebratin' how old they are!"
"Oh," Drax seemed to entirely ignore the insult directed at him. "I understand now. My people were accustomed to a similar ceremony. Why did you not explain this way to begin with, furry beast?"
Rocket threw up his hands in exasperation, looking like he was about ready to leave. Peter rested a hand on his shoulder, which was immediately swiped away, even if it did seem to sate his friend for the moment.
"Anyway," Peter continued on. "Today is my birthday. I was thinkin' maybe we could celebrate it somehow! What do you guys wanna do?"
"What does one do for the Terran birthday tradition?" Drax asked, peering over as he flipped the omelettes he and Gamora had prepared while she began to fetch plates.
"Well," Peter cleared his throat, not wanting his holiday to sound selfish by any means. "I've never really done it the normal way, since I didn't completely grow up on Terra. But, back there, people would give the birthday kid some presents, and then everyone would sing and eat cake together... Not that the presents part is necessary, but..."
For a moment as he trailed off, memories of more innocent, childish times flashed before his eyes. His mother, with a full head of hair, her hands on his shoulders as she encouraged him to blow out the candles. His grandfather, setting out a small gift on the table as he pat his back with a proud grin.
His reminiscing was interrupted by Rocket snorting and blatantly rolling his eyes. "Sounds stupid to me. Plus, you already got the singin' part down, not that you's any good at it."
Peter had learned, over the last several months of living with Rocket, to not take his insults to heart, being that most of them weren't really aimed to hurt. And even the ones that were, well... One look at Rocket's cute little ears and his big black eyes, and how could anyone really be that mad?
"Oh come on, Rocket." Peter grinned with good cheer. "Haven't you ever celebrated a birthday of your own?"
Gamora and Drax exchanged a look as they both set the plates on the table, each with a portioned plate of omelette. It was obvious to the two of them that this conversation was probably not heading in a good direction, as was custom when engaging Rocket.
Rocket scoffed, climbing up to his seat, which he cranked so that he was even with the table. "As if. I ain't even know when I was born, ya dumb-ass."
Rocket seemed unaffected by that fact, as were the rest of the guardians, as they all sat down to eat.
But Peter?
Peter was shocked into silence.
The concept of never celebrating a birthday was horrific to him, even more so, not knowing when it was!
Peter had always had an affinity towards Rocket, and to see him suffer from something so plaguing... Well, that was something that the mighty Star-lord had to remedy!
With a gasp, Peter bolted from the room, a new idea hatching in his mind.
The remaining three (Groot sleeping in Rocket's room, given) glanced up to see him depart but did nothing to stop him, only continuing to eat. They'd gotten used to his sporadic and unexplained absences, which Rocket (bitterly?) theorized as hook-ups.
Little did they know that Peter had a plan.
Part of a plan, anyway.
This is split up into two parts. It's for a prompt I noticed on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy!