If there was one thing Peter loved about space travel, it was the fact that there were no limits to where one could go. No limits to what one can see.
Space was his.
"We have been making hits at cold-ass places for two weeks!" Rocket complained from his bunk in the med bay, whiskers twitching as he let Gamora patch him up. Across him Peter sighed and cradled his midsection gingerly in his arms as beside him Drax was wrapping his left calf with a bandage with clinical accuracy. "We are going on leave. Effective immediately!"
Okay, space used to be his, but now with four new roommates, space was, well, his and the newly-christened Guardians of the Galaxy.
("What a bunch of A-holes," Denarian Saal had called them, and Peter couldn't help but agree.)
(Except for the fact that he was, admittedly, included in that "bunch of a-holes", but he was far from being the nicest guy.)
(He was, also, not 100% a dick.)
"I know there's a system that has planets way too close to its suns near this one." Gamora commented offhandedly, and Rocket scoffed, whiskers twitching.
"I sure as hell ain't burning to a crisp either!" he argued, and beside him, Groot, a little bigger than the twigs he started off as, swayed in agreement.
"You're too damn picky, Rocket." Peter complained—no, he did not fucking whine—as he leant back in the cot, resting his back against the wall of the med bay, shivering a little at the sudden cold at his back. "It's too cold here." He added for a moment, before continuing, "Let's just fly somewhere nearby where we can thaw ourselves out. Any more cold and my fingers and dick might fall off."
Rocket snorted in laughter and Gamora smiled a little, but Drax frowned at this, and reached behind Peter to press his large hand against the Terran's back, warm and solid, lifting him off the cold wall.
"We cannot allow that to happen." He said, tone authoritative yet concerned, and Peter blinked up at him, confused, but the warmth from Drax's hand seeped through his jacket and into his stiff-cold back and he sighed contentedly as he leant back against it. "If you lose your fingers you will be unfit for battle, and should you lose your peni—"
"Uh, Drax, buddy," Peter spoke up, "Figure of speech."
Drax blinked at him. "But the cold causes loss of limb, correct?"
"Yeah, but not my dick." Peter snickered. "It's a metaphor."
"… Metaphor." Drax nodded. "I understand."
"Do you really?" Rocket snickered, nodding at Gamora as she moved away, finished with his bandages. "Well, anyway. I'm gonna go to bed and sleep off this pain in the ass ache. When I wake up, I wanna be somewhere warm."
Peter and Gamora shared a frown, as Rocket picked up Groot's pot carefully before slowly ambling away, yawning. "I don't really know where to go near here." Peter admitted first, and Gamora sighed, frustrated.
"Neither do I."
"I do." Drax spoke up, and the two of them blinked at him, surprised. "My daughter once required a school visit to a planet near here that is warm enough."
Peter's face lit up and he smashed himself against Drax's arm, laughing. "Drax, buddy, I love you, man."
Gamora hid a chuckle behind her fist. "Figure of speech, Drax."
"Figure of speech." Drax nodded, looking down at Peter making himself comfortable against his side. "… Peter?"
"You're warm." He replied, matter-of-factly, draping over him feline-like, grinning. "And I'm freezing. Thanks for being a furnace."
"You mean you are grateful I am hot."
Peter's laughter echoed off the walls and Gamora finally managed an undignified snort.
In the end Drax brought them to a planet with warm weather—if Peter had to compare it to anywhere on Earth, it would have to be somewhere in the Mediterranean.
Gratitude was high and heady with everyone as they all but scrambled off the Milano after securing a parking permit. Gamora went off to do her own thing while Groot and Rocket left not long after they did 'hey, I've been here before,' Rocket had claimed, 'beaches longer than the eye could see, and A'askvarii everywhere on summer holiday' and 'the drinks at beach parties are great, though'.
That left Peter with Drax, the two of them slowly walking along the beach barefoot, quiet for once, letting the ocean wind toss Peter's jacket gently.
"So, the beach." Peter breathed in the scent of the ocean and smiled a little. "I've only been to one beach back when I was on Terra."
"As have I." Drax replied. "This is the first and only beach I had been to."
Peter chuckled. "Did you have fun?"
"Plenty." Drax replied. "My daughter and I tried many things on the beach. Swimming, boating…"
"Ice cream." Peter chuckled, and Drax paused.
"Iced cream?" he echoed, and Peter gaped at him.
"You don't know what ice cream is?" he asked, "That's, like, the prerequisite to enjoying your time at the beach!"
Drax looked at him blankly, but Peter shook his head. "C'mon, buddy, I'm totally fixing that myself."
Gamora found Drax and Peter sitting at a beachside bench eating their own cup of flavoured shaved ice—it wasn't exactly ice cream, but Peter guessed it was enough. He could probably still remember how to make ice cream, his grandfather had taught him how to; he just hoped there was enough milk on the Milano, because, dude, not tasting ice cream at least once in your life was a freakin' sin.
She approached them, ready to speak up to let them know of their presence, when she heard what they were talking about.
"My little girl, she was 7, and she braved those single-passenger boats herself!"
"Those jet-skis?" Peter was laughing brightly, face lit up wonderfully and warmly in the orange light as the twin-sun sunset cast the world in an orange-purple-blue glow, and Gamora couldn't help the small smile that crossed her face. "Man, she must have been amazing!"
"Yes, she is my daughter, after all," Drax was proudly saying, every inch a proud father, and Gamora could see a little of her father in him, and her shoulders slumped a little, before she settled down on the sand in front of them, catching them by surprise.
"Gamora!" Peter gasped, nearly dropping his shaved ice, but she smirked at him and stole a spoonful off his portion, earning her a whine of protest. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
"My father never got to take me to the beach." She spoke up, looking up at Drax, who was smiling a little at her.
"Then you have missed out on plenty." Drax replied.
Peter paused at this, and sobered up a little. "Let's fix that, then." He said softly, and Drax looked at him, eyes a little wide as he saw Peter glow in the orange light. "All of us. This beach. Tomorrow. Sound good?"
Gamora nodded her approval, and a small smile crept across Drax's lips.
"Yes."
His chest hurt.
That evening the team retreated to their bunks in the Milano, but Peter woke to the sound of soft knocking on his door nearing midnight. Blinking blearily, he slowly pulled himself out of bed to open his door to find Drax standing there, looking sheepish.
"… Drax?" he mumbled. "Wh't up?" he yawned, rubbing his eye.
"I am in minute pain with every shift. I do not understand why."
Peter looked up at him blearily, and he realised that Drax's skin had an unusual tint of red. A long moment of processing later, and realisation hit him.
"You have a sunburn." He replied, grinning a little, and Drax scowled, embarrassed. Peter chuckled, and beckoned him in. "C'mon, you big guy." He told him, "I think I have burn salve somewhere here."
"You are not going to laugh at me?"
Peter laughed at that, and shook his head. "Y'know how I said ice cream was a prerequisite to beach fun times?" He didn't wait for Drax to reply, as he rooted through his things. "Getting a sunburn is another one."
"It is hardly pleasant." Drax commented as Peter crowed happily when he found the tube he was looking for. The Terran grinned at him anyway and sat down next to him on his bed.
"That's life." He replied, shrugging. "But now you owe me."
Drax shook his head exasperatedly, and Peter grinned brightly at him. "You're okay with that, right?" he cocked his head. "I mean, I'm totally paying for the drinks we are so having at parties tomorrow."
Drax laughed at that, and nodded. "I am indebted to you."
"A simple yes would have been okay," Peter chuckled, but they fell into a comfortable silence as Peter's hands gently slathered the salve on his skin.
He felt the cool pierce the heat, pinching, like how his chest hurt a little when he felt how gentle's Peter's small, small hands were, and how wide, wide and warm his smile was.
He decided he rather liked it.