DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from Guardians of the Galaxy, either in its movie or comic incarnation. I own any OC I can invent, though. I am not making a £ out of this. It is just for shits and giggles.
Warnings: this chapter contains Peter's confused boner and plot thickening. This is turning out to be a massive Marvel-style saga...
For those of you who follow my two most recent Star Wars fics, "Breakers of Chains" and "CIS Commandos", I have not abandoned them, I'm just concentrating on finishing this one before I resume working on those two monsters.
"So, it looks like we are going to Spartax, next." Peter says, stretching and yawning.
He and Ronan are sitting on top of the Milano. The sun is dawning on K'soth. Theirs has been a long night, but Peter doesn't feel like going to sleep just yet and by the looks of it, neither does Ronan.
"Sounds like a plan." the Kree replies with a lazy smile.
He still hasn't replaced his jacket and Peter has a hard time trying not to ogle him. He has always been attractive, but the fact that he is now sporting his marks makes him almost irresistible.
"Ever been there before?" Peter asks.
The Kree shakes his head. "I was a bit too tied up with the war and my duties to travel around the Galaxy for leisure." he explains.
"Oh, well, I suppose you had places to be, heads to smash..." Peter teases.
Ronan laughs hearthily. "Exactly. - he agrees - But it's never too late to see new places and try new things. Without you, I would have never had the chance." he adds, turning to look at him.
"You mean if we hadn't fucked up your life?" Peter asks, feeling a twinge of guilt, he doesn't even know why.
If they had not, they would never be having this conversation, but since they have, and Ronan is their honour-bound haaq, Peter might never know for sure if whatever the Kree feels for him and Gamora is real and not just Centaurian syndrome or some sort of twisted sense of duty.
"My life was in turmoil long before you entered the scene. - Ronan replies calmly - I rather think you helped me fix it. I am more balanced now than I ever was before." he adds.
"But you are not free." Peter counters.
"Am I not? - the Kree retorts, quirking a hairless eyebrow - Then I have never been. All my life I obeyed someone else's orders. You must have realised that I don't exactly mind..." he adds, giving him a sidelong glance.
"Is that innuendo?" Peter asks himself. He likes the idea that it might be.
"Yeah, right... - he says, rubbing the back of his neck to hide his embarrassment - About that... I am sorry if I overstepped the boundaries a bit at the Silk Den." he adds.
Ronan gives him one of his trademark impenetrable looks.
"I mean, we had not agreed anything about kisses, and, who knows, maybe you didn't like it... Maybe you are not even into guys, I mean, maybe you are not gay at all." Peter finds himself babbling, just to fill the silence.
"To be honest, I never put any real thought into the matter. - Ronan says, stopping him in his tracks - I wasn't popular with my classmates at the Academy." he adds as if explains everything.
"And I wasn't really interested in any relationship at the time." he continues, a bit ruefully, after a brief pause.
"Too busy acing those pesky tests?" Peter teases.
A smile appears on the Kree's face. "And then too busy working. - he confirms - And at that point it was too late for dallying with men anyway. I was supposed to marry as soon as possible after graduating." he explains.
"But you didn't, did you?" Peter asks, suddenly nervous and almost jealous.
"No I didn't. - Ronan says, shaking his head - I vowed not to marry until the end of the war. I didn't want to leave a widow and orphans behind when I died."
"When?!" Peter repeats.
"I never thought I was going to see the end of it. I am not even sure I would have wanted to. - Ronan reveals - The beginning and the end of my life was the war, back then. I told you, I was already 'fucked up' long before we met." he adds with a wry smile, seeing the shocked expression on the Terran's face.
"So, I get it, you passed up marriage, because you thought that you were a goner anyway, but you must have had at least a girlfriend... or a lover, or a one-night-stand..." he offers, feeling slightly panicky.
Ronan shakes his head.
"Not really. I had never... I had never felt any physical desire for anyone. - he confesses, blushing dark blue - I thought I was... defective, in that respect. And I mean biologically."
Peter's mind starts spinning horribly and his face freezes in what he hopes is a warm smile but feels more like a rictus.
Ronan is not just confused and inhibited about sex, he is a bloody virgin and he has just forced him into what amounts to public sex in front of a crowd of strangers in a club!
This is... this is insane and wrong, and... gods! How wrong is it that, now that he knows, Peter wants him even more?
"I have only recently realised that the problem was not... down there, but here, and here..." Ronan continues, oblivious to the Terran's minor crisis, pointing at his head and at his heart.
Peter makes all the appropriate noises, but he is barely listening. He feels guilty about forcing him in such a situation, and even more guilty for having assumed things about him, instead of talking with him about them like an adult.
"I was hiding behind my duty and the traditions of my people to get away with repressing my feelings. - Ronan confesses - I thought that having feelings was weak and childish, but the truth is that I was afraid. You Guardians taught me that I don't need to fear, that I can both be a warrior on the path of Pama and care for people, and now... well, the problem has fixed itself, it seems..." he adds, blushing even darker.
"And how!" Peter thinks, dreamily recalling how those bloody rock-star trousers were doing basically nothing to conceal the Kree's impressive hard-on, and how he had happily ground himself on it as they kissed.
"Had you ever kissed anyone before tonight?" Star-Lord asks, keeping his gaze in the distance.
"No. That was... that was my first time." Ronan replies shyly.
It is the answer Peter dreaded.
"I am sorry..." he says quietly.
"Eh!? Why?" Ronan asks. Peter is still looking away, but he can clearly imagine a perplexed expression on his face. He is cute when he is confused.
"Because that was not how it is supposed to be." Peter retorts, shaking his head.
"And how it is supposed to be, then?" the Kree insists, quite belligerent.
"I... I don't know! - Peter exclaims, feeling the weight of his gaze on him - Romantic, maybe? At least with a person of the gender you prefer? And maybe not forced by the circumstances of a mission?" he adds with growing irritation towards himself.
"I wasn't complaining..." Ronan points out.
Peter lets out a strangled growl. He doesn't know what to say. He wants to believe that Ronan liked it as much as he did, that he was totally into it and his consent was freely given, but he is not sure. He is very, very afraid of having exploited the Kree's submissive streak and sudden bout of delayed puberty, and having stolen something important from him.
"I shouldn't have brought you with me." Peter says.
"Excuse me?! But the mission was a success!" Ronan protests.
"That is not the point! - Peter retorts - And the fact that you don't see it is another proof that I shouldn't have gotten you into that situation." he adds more calmly.
"I did consent, if that's what you are worried about." Ronan declares firmly. He looks slightly angry and that is something Peter would have never wanted.
"I might be inexperienced, but I am not ignorant. I knew what we were potentially getting ourselves into, and I told you I was fine with it. - he continues - You must have realised that I didn't bloody mind what happened in there!"
"You consented because it was a mission." Peter accuses, even as a shiver runs through him at the memory of how sexy and happy and utterly gone he had looked. He wants Ronan to want him as much as he wants him, he wants everything from him, friendship, sex, love, but he won't take anything until he is certain that it is mutual and freely given.
"What if I told you I wanted to bang you just because? Would it be the same for you?" he questions sharply. Ronan pauses and blinks, most of his confidence gone.
"Or better, would you ask me for sex? Would you initiate it?" Peter insists.
The Kree hesitates, opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again without a sound.
"Thought so." Peter comments ruefully. Better to know, even if it breaks his heart. He stands up and drops from the top of the ship to the ground of the parking lot. He needs to sleep, and maybe a stiff, strong drink.
"Wait, no! - Ronan pleads, standing up in turn - I... I can explain!"
"I don't need explanations." Peter retorts. Not now. Maybe when it stops hurting so much, like in a thousand years.
The hatch of the Milano opens, spitting out a groggy, confused Drax.
"Well met, comrades! - he greets, blinking in the light - I gather that your mission was successful." he comments cheerfully.
"Yeah, we have a lead." Peter replies, glad for the distraction.
"Capital! - Drax exclaims - We have run out of stimulating morning drinks, I am going to buy some, for the rest, we should be ready to depart." he adds.
"Yeah, sure. - Peter says - This ship runs on coffee. Good call!"
"Peter?! Ronan?! You're back!" Gamora shouts from inside the ship. She must have heard him talking with Drax through the open hatch.
"Yep! Safe and sound!" he shouts back, feigning cheerfulness.
"Come in, quick! Nebula has made contact! There are news about Terra!" she yells.
"An even bigger distraction, great!" Peter thinks.
"Coming! - he yells, then turns to Drax - Be quick, alright?" he instructs.
The Destroyer nods and runs off.
"Coming, bluebell?" Peter asks, looking up at Ronan. The Kree leaps from the top of the ship and closes in on him.
"This conversation is not over." he threatens, stepping through the hatch.
Thankfully, it is instead.
Nebula's message says that another Infinity Stone has cropped up on Terra, and nearly appropriated by some crazy dudes called Svartalfar. Apparently, they were repelled by the same weird coalition of Asgardians and Terrans of whom Gamora had spoken earlier, and now the Stone is in Terran hands.
"Between Terra and Asgard, they have two of the six stones. Another one is on Xandar. - Nebula argues in the recorded message - That we know, Thanos only has one, the Mind Stone. An alliance could achieve much, under the present circumstances." she concludes.
The Guardians can't help but agree.
The message continues after that, and Nebula claims to have solid links into the Asgardian palace. She closes off by asking for a parlay between them, her and the Asgardian representative.
"I still hate you, little sister... - the assassin says, addressing Gamora directly - But I hate Thanos more, and stopping him is more important to me than anything else, so, please, reply to me. Let me know where we can meet and talk." she adds, just before the video recording stops.
"I don't like the crazy blue bitch, but she has a point." Rocket says, summing up the feelings of all the others, apart maybe from Gamora and Ronan.
Peter scans all the others with his gaze. They all nod.
"And what if it is a trap?" he objects, just for the sake of caution.
"Then we deal with my sister once and for all." Gamora declares, unsheathing one of her knives.
After a brief debate, they decide to go to Spartax anyway, because if they are going to go to war against Thanos, it is better that they cover their backs first by dealing with whoever is trying to capture Peter.
They send a reply to Nebula, telling her that they will meet in Spartax in two standard galactic weeks, then start the preparations for take off. Peter is not usually one to make things by the book, but this time he doesn't leave out a single safety check.
He wants to keep busy. He doesn't want to think.