Author's Note: Major spoilers for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 ahead!
I hope y'all like this Rocket X Peter (Pocket or Roquill, whichever you prefer) one-shot! The uncensored version of this story will be posted to AO3 at a later date.
This work is rated T for suggestive, gay themes. There will also be mentions of certain songs playing during the story. I highly recommend that readers play these songs while reading for a truly immersive experience.
Anyways, I hope y'all like it!
"No way! That popular, huh?" Rocket inquired.
"Yep. I practically couldn't walk for 10 seconds in St. Charles without someone wanting a high five or a selfie. They still haven't forgotten about the blip," Peter answered as they strolled through the Knowhere central pavilion, heading toward Yarvo's Bar for a drink after working out together. Rocket had smooth 80s rock playing on Knowhere's loudspeakers, with Toto's "Africa" currently playing. It gave a nice vibe to the city at sunset.
"Peter! What a pleasant surprise!" one of the residents greeted. Peter made a friendly wave and smiled toward her while a local roasted F'Saki vendor called, "The Legendary Star-Lord! Welcome back!" The savory smell permeated the air.
"Man, looks like it's not stopping anytime soon!" Rocket added.
"Yeah, I guess it won't be long before I get a paparazzi."
"A papa-what?" Rocket seemed confused
"A paparazzi. It's like a group of photographers that follows you around. It's an Earth thing."
"Who came up with that word?"
"I dunno… like I said, weird Earth thing."
"Yeah… right. Anyway, this new outfit is amazing. Imma start wearing it everywhere." Rocket looked down at the cutoff tank and shorts Peter got for him back on Earth. He had just started getting into a gym routine, so Peter thought it would be appropriate to gift him some new garb; uniforms and battle suits aren't exactly practical for pumping iron and sweating like mad. The clothes were of a popular Terran brand whose name Rocket forgot how to pronounce. Was it "Nee-kay" or "Nyke?" Either way, they were damn comfy, and he thought the Swoosh logo looked cool.
"It suits you! I had to get some of my own too." Peter complimented, pointing at the tee he wore himself. It had a vintage Missouri Tigers logo on it; he remembered going to their football games when he was a kid. "You're starting to look much more toned since you started working out, even underneath all that fur."
"You think so?" Rocket inquired, flexing his right arm.
"Hell yeah. Looks like you've been at it for a while. I didn't know raccoons could look so good and buff." Peter couldn't help but notice how incredibly amazing Rocket looked after 5 months. He was beefier, his fur had more luster, and he looked much healthier than the last time he saw him. He couldn't help but sensually look at him.
"Oh, thanks. Yeah, I've tried to keep up with it. Drax is my coach of sorts now." Rocket replied. Being called a raccoon no longer fazed him; he practically had a whole gaze that looked up to him as a dad of sorts. However, he saw Peter looking at him in a way he'd never seen before. Almost like he'd been awestruck and entranced. He remembered Pete similarly looking at Gamora before she parted with the Ravagers. He brushed it off as they made their way into Yarvo's.
They entered the club, and "It's No Crime" by Babyface was playing, a song Phyla (the Guardian's newest member) came to love. Peter procured two bottles of Krylorian Lager while Rocket helped himself to two plastic cartons of Spiked Milky Fizz, one for the walk to his penthouse and one for their movie night. Yarvo, a Kree immigrant who opened Yarvo's Bar and Dance Club, always kept a fresh supply of them stashed for Rocket. He, Kraglin, and Cosmo frequented the club after finishing jobs; sometimes, Nebula and Drax would join them. Rocket gave Yarvo songs from the Zune to play on the dance floor; he particularly fancied the 80s and 90s pop from the device.
They then went to Rocket's penthouse via an open hover-lifter, which sat on the highest level of Knowhere. Since Adam's ambush that left Rocket nearly dead, along with the Hellspawn attack on the city, it grew back stronger and more beautiful than ever. The penthouse was one such addition. Nebula and Cosmo thought Rocket deserved it for taking on the captain's role and leading the charge against the High Evolutionary. It was an ample, well-decorated space with a central living room, a full-size kitchen for team meals, Rocket's bedroom, and his office for working with clients and developing new tech.
Peter and Rocket entered the penthouse. Immediately, the eight raccoon kits ran up to Peter and jumped on his legs, crawling on him.
"Whoa! Hey there, little guys!" They kept crawling up Peter's chest and nibbling on his shirt, shorts, and sneakers. "Hey! These are brand new!"
"Down, down!" Rocket commanded, grabbing the kits off Peter. "What did I say about manners when guests come over?!"
"Aww, they just wanna play. So long as they don't destroy my brand-new threads, though, we're cool."
"Nah, they're still pretty wild, but they're getting there. Almost out of the adolescent stage," Rocket replied. He then opened a small, circular door to their outdoor playpen, a large pad with a forcefield covered in green turf with a jungle gym attached. "Now, come on. Go play." Rocket ordered as they scurried into the pen, their little claws tapping and scraping against the Asgardian wood floor, a gift from Thor.
"What do ya think?" Rocket asked Peter, gesturing at his new place.
"Man! I guess this Captain thing is really working out for you, huh? This is amazing, bro!"
"Thanks. I don't like to keep it all to myself, though. Phyla and Cosmo stay the night a lot after jobs. Phyla mostly comes over to play with the kits. We do debrief here in the living room a lot too." He detailed, motioning to the U-shaped couch surrounding a drop-down hologram player setup. "That's where they usually sleep. I rigged the hologram to play those DVD's you brought from Terra. Phyla can't get enough of that one flick about a light-haired Terran girl who wants to get back with that one rich dude. Nebs likes the one with the big bank robbery shootout. Speaking of which, did you bring anything new?"
"I did!" Peter exclaimed, reaching into his satchel. "This one is super popular on Earth right now. It's pretty damn cool." He pulled a copy of Top Gun Maverick out of the satchel. Rocket took it in his paws and looked it over.
"Nice. It looks new." He asked.
"Yep. It's a sequel to the original from when I was a kid." Peter answered.
"I'll put it in." Rocket answered.
They both plopped down on the sofa, still wearing their workout clothes from earlier. Rocket dimmed the lights in the penthouse and started the movie on the hologram.
While watching it, Peter sat beside Rocket on the couch with their legs on the extendable ottomans. Peter gradually inched closer and closer to him, though Rocket didn't mind. He was also starting to notice just how beefy he was. His chiseled pecs and abs showed through the Mizzou t-shirt, and Pete's bicep barely fit inside the armhole. Rocket also got closer and closer until they were practically cuddling on the couch, with Rocket sitting between Peter's legs and the man's arm wrapped around his torso. Rocket was pretty sure he was feeling the same way Peter did earlier and couldn't help but feel the man's rock-hard abs with his paw. Peter continued to embrace Rocket throughout. Rocket absolutely loved the soundtrack; he couldn't wait to add Kenny Loggins to the Zune.
They got to the part where Maverick started the recruits' pilot training, and Fanboy, one of the cadets in the Top Gun program, said that Maverick needed an ego check.
Peter laughed at that last part. "That sounds like us a couple years back! Right?"
"Yeah, except, if I 'member right, you needed the ego check." Rocket snapped back, taking a swig of his second carton of Milky Fizz.
"Looks like the tables have turned now, haven't they, captain?" Peter said jokingly, punching Rocket playfully in the shoulder, causing him to spit up his Milky Fizz and the carton to slip out of his paws. It went forward onto the ottomans and the coffee table, getting a white, sugary mess all over the floor and furniture.
"Quill, you ass! Why the hell would you do that?!"
"I dunno, captain. Can't take a joke?"
The movie continued playing on, and Rocket jumped out of Quill's embrace to examine the spill. "Look at my krutackin floor!" He exclaimed.
"Why don't you do something about it, captain?" Peter retorted, standing up. Rocket could see where this was starting to go.
"Ohhhhh… I see…. this is gonna be fun." He said, putting Top Gun on pause. The dogfight could wait. He then ran over to his gym bag and pulled out two pairs of fingerless sparring gloves, a small one for him and a large one for Peter. "Let's see who really needs the ego check, Quill. Put 'em on."
"It's on, captain. I think it's time we get serious." After strapping the gloves on, Peter stripped his Mizzou shirt off, revealing his chiseled six-pack, bulging pecs, and monstrous biceps. Rocket gulped slightly at seeing him shirtless. He knew that Peter would never try to actually hurt him. Yet, his massive, bare muscles made him realize what Peter could be capable of. But he wasn't going to back down from this either. He started to get excited at seeing the man like this; he knew they would be more than just friends after this.
"Oh, you wanna play it that way, Star-Munch?"
"Yep. Let's see what those new worked-out raccoon muscles can do."
"Yeah? If you insist…." Rocket took his white cutoff top off and chucked it to the side, his chest implants showing and the slight shape of his pecs showing through his fur, his stomach utterly flat from the fur covering his abs. He recently had hair transplant surgery, covering up the shallow implants on his back.
Rocket climbed up on the couch to make up for his height disadvantage. They both stood in the living room, facing each other. Then, they both advanced toward one another, putting their fists up in defensive positions.
"Time to give you your ego check, captain," Peter said playfully.
"You first, Quill," Rocket replied, swinging at Peter's face. He dodged it just in the nick of time.
"Oooh…. Feisty, aren't you?" Peter made a jab of his own, which Rocket easily avoided and countered with a hook, which Peter blocked with his glove, making a satisfying clap noise that resonated through the room. They continued to circle around each other with their gloves up. Rocket then landed a jab to Peter's bare chest, making him huff slightly, but then, he countered with a hook, nailing Rocket right on the side of the snout. He tumbled sideways off the couch and onto the floor, his head hitting the leg of the coffee table.
Peter's eyes widened as he heard Rocket hiss with pain; he was doubled over on the floor. "Oh, shit! You ok, buddy?" He was genuinely worried that Rocket would get injured at the moment. Due to his peak human strength, he could beat the absolute living shit out of the raccoon if he wanted to. He wasn't about to let him win this friendly fight. But he was not about to put his best friend, the Guardians' new leader, in a medical bay for a week either.
Rocket then looked up at Peter with determination, wiping a tiny fleck of blood from the tip of his nose. "I could do this all day," he declared. Then, he lunged at Peter's face, his gloved right paw jabbing as he grabbed the man's shoulder. Peter managed to block some of the hits, but many landed.
He was slightly dazed from the barrage of blows as Rocket repositioned himself on Peter's shoulders in a piggyback-ride position. Then, he punched Peter several times in the side of the head with his gloved paws, just like he did to a ravager on Berhert years back. His fists were like little hammers constantly nailing the man's temples.
Yet, Peter broke out of his daze and grabbed Rocket's little wrists, keeping him from nailing his head further and knocking him out. But then, Rocket slid down on Peter's back, breaking free from his grip. He then managed to wrap his furry arm around the man's neck in a sleeper hold, using his legs wrapped around the sides of Peter's core to support himself.
Peter grabbed onto Rocket's arm and attempted to free himself. Holy shit, he's strong, he thought to himself. "Give up yet?" Rocket questioned, using all his might to choke out Peter.
"Not even close," Peter croaked back, the chokehold making his voice raspy. Once he felt Rocket growing fatigued and losing his grip, he reached back and grappled Rocket underneath his furry armpits. Then, he managed to slam the raccoon, by his arms, back first into the couch. Rocket grunted on impact, having the wind knocked out of him.
"Now it's on!" Peter teased, taking advantage of Rocket's dazed state to pin him down by holding the raccoon's little arms above his head and pinning Rocket's legs with his knees. Then, Peter took his right-gloved fist and started pummeling Rocket in the gut.
"Time to tenderize that gut," Peter joked. He still wasn't punching Rocket with even 10% of his strength. He did not intend to injure his best friend; he just wanted to mess with him and have a clean, fun fight. However, it didn't mean Rocket's gut wasn't pounding with pain at the moment.
Rocket tried squirming out of the pinned position, and Peter decided it was time to finish this. He managed to get Rocket in a sleeper hold after letting his arms go. "You're done!" Peter exclaimed as Rocket helplessly tried to escape the man's vice grip, his bicep slowly constricting his throat. "Come on, just give up!" Peter coaxed.
"Never!" Rocket countered raspily. He knew there was no escaping someone three times as strong as him in a hold like this. He'd sparred before, and from his previous fighting experience with old Gamora, he knew that a sleeper from someone this strong was near-impossible to escape. Yet, he wasn't going down without a fight. Peter would have to KO him before he'd ever tap out.
While it was humiliating to be defeated by Star-Munch, it was also super hot at the same time. Feeling the man's giant bicep against his throat was almost euphoric. He grew ever more attracted to Peter throughout the day, and Peter did to Rocket simultaneously.
Finally, Rocket blacked out in the hold for under five seconds, but that was enough for Peter to declare a knockout and reign victorious. He immediately let go when he saw Rocket's arms go limp for a split second. They both just lay on the couch, with Rocket's back on Peter's chest.
"Looks like you got your ego checked," Peter proclaimed, grabbing a pillow to support his head on the couch. Both were exhausted, their chests heaving up and down. Rocket was still waking up from being KO'd. Fighting against a dude three times stronger than him with only his fists was far more exhausting than the battles he'd been in. Even then, Peter was just going easy on him.
"Is that so?" Rocket replied, rolling over on Peter so they were chest on chest. He laid on Peter's pec like a pillow, a rock-hard nipple teasing him. His couch was probably a sweaty mess, but he didn't care.
"Yeah," Peter said, caressing the raccoon's back. "You're pretty strong, though, man. Those workouts with Drax are paying off." He could feel something growing in Rocket's Nike shorts on his stomach, his heaving chest moving Rocket up and down. "Looks like you really missed me, huh? I missed you like crazy, man." Something grew in his own shorts; he couldn't help but admire how cute Rocket looked in this position with his tiny body limp on his muscular torso.
"Did I…. ever tell you, Rocket?" Peter hesitated slightly.
"What, Pete?" Rocket prodded, moving his head slightly to look up at the man's face; Peter looked at him longingly.
"When… you almost died on the Bowie, when the heart monitor flatlined, I…. never felt the way I did at that moment since I saw my mom die in the hospital on Earth. I…. really thought I lost you."
"Yeah? What are you getting at, Pete?" Rocket's eyes looked right into Peter's. He couldn't help but notice Rocket's beautiful amber orbs looking right into him lovingly.
"I…. I…. I love you, man." He finally got off his chest.
Rocket gazed off into the distance, seemingly confused for a moment. But then, a slight smile permeated his snout. "I…. I love you too, Pete. I…. actually cried when you left. The thought of not seeing you for so long was almost too much to handle. Adam, Cosmo, Phyla, Kraglin, and Groot are all great, but the Guardians still don't feel the same without you."
"Man, you're probably the strongest person I've ever met. Why do you think I gave the team to you? You're a stronger captain than I ever was," he complimented Rocket, "…even after that ego check I just gave you, haha." Peter joked. Rocket laughed back, though a small brim of tears started forming in his eyes. "Hey, hey, buddy. It's ok." He raised his arm and softly stroked Rocket's head, scratching softly behind the raccoon's soft, fuzzy ears.
"It's…. just not the same," Rocket pleaded, starting to choke up. "I love you, Pete. I can't tell you how much I missed you."
"Love you too, man," Peter answered lovingly. "Remember, I'm only a call and a short trip through a jump point away," he reassured Rocket. The raccoon laid his head back down on the man's chest, and they both just lay there for a moment, with Peter petting Rocket and Rocket caressing Peter's bare chest.
"I think we have a movie to finish," Peter interjected, reaching for the hologram controls on the coffee table.
"Agreed," Rocket added, picking up a remote to open the kits' outdoor playpen door. It was starting to get dark, and their hyper energy from earlier died off from playing outside for two hours. They all scurried inside and joined the two on the couch, cuddling next to Peter and Rocket. Peter started Top Gun Maverick again, and soon after the dogfight scene, Rocket fell fast asleep on Peter's chest. Peter lulled off to sleep shortly afterward with Rocket's warm, fuzzy body purring on his chest and all the raccoon kits cuddled up next to him.