Just A Number

I'm a sucker for old men, would you be willing to do something with Yondu where the reader is… quite a bit younger and he's concerned about how old he is?

Okay, so I'm writing this as if the reader is ages with me (21), their parents are roughly the same age as mine (50s) and Yondu is the same age 10 years younger than Michael Rooker (63) (53) it might not be as close to IRL for everyone else but I hope you enjoy it anyway (I didn't realise he was that old 0.0) Tw for Yondu being slightly drunk

—–

You came home from the party and let down your hair. You took off your shoes and yawned; it had been one Hell of a night.

From your bedroom you heard a sleepy voice call, "Y/N? That you?"

"Yeah, it's me, hon" you smiled.

You were met with the sounds of the sheets being pulled back and shuffling footsteps, "Good". Yondu appeared at your bedroom door, sleepily gazing down the corridor at you. Your dressing gown was thrown over his shoulders. He could barely keep his eyes open.

You smiled at him, padding quietly down the hall to him. You tiptoed up to kiss him and he balanced you with his hands on your waist. You frowned, smelling the whiskey on his breath, "You been drinking?" you asked softly.

"Just a bit"

"What for?" Long gone were the days when Yondu drank alcohol like it was water; your relationship had slowly brought him away from that.

"Ma head was doin too much thinkin"

You took a steadying breath, "You want to talk about it?" He gave a soft moan, and buried his head in your shoulder, squeezing you tight, "Baby, what's wrong?"

He sighed. Standing straight, he took your hand and led you to sit on your bed, facing him. He was quiet, searching his mind for the right thing to say. He got like this sometimes, wrapped up inside his own head, making mountains out of molehills. You were never truly worried when he did it, not after the first few times - Yondu was quietly anxious, quietly doubting, he was a quiet hypochondriac, and you knew this, and you knew how to reassure him.

"What if…" It was always 'what if'. "… I'm too old"

"What? Why do you think that?"

"Ya just came back from yer father's birthday party, yer father's fiftieth birthday party"

"Yes"

He sighed, "Y/N, yer own Dad is three years younger than me"

"And what makes you think that that means you're too old for me? Darling, no offense, but I knew when I met you that you were at least as old as my parents - that's not a problem for me. Does it bother you?"

"No… but… fuck sake, yer younger than Quill"

"I know. And you've always known that too"

"Yeah, but… I just… There's gotta be someone out there better for ya then me"

You shook your head, stepping up to him and holding onto his waist, your hands beneath the material of your dressing gown he'd borrowed, as you looked up at him, "Yondu, there is no-one, in all the universe, that it better for me, than you - I swear on my life"

You watched as a soft smile grew on his lips. He looked down, breaking eye contact for a little while, before meeting your eyes again and asking, "D'ya really think so?"

You resisted the urge to laugh, and nodded your head, "I really think so"