aromantically | ( OPEN ) Peter Q

Peter's lips curve up at her admission, wondering if it's starting to click for her yet how similar their origins really are. His gaze focuses on the tip of her nose, grateful he doesn't have to meet her gaze properly from this vantage point. Her question is bright and innocent and almost has him spilling the truth of the matter before he remembers abruptly he's telling historical fiction.

"Oh, yes," Peter intones warmly, nodding to seal in his answer as he pictures it as if it had been true. He clings to every false image that springs up, water gathering in his already doelike eyes. "They were such a great team that as the boy grew up, they did everything together. The captain made his adopted son the second-in-command and the crew embraced him the way he had never found friends on Earth. It was just like the family he had lost, and even better since it was their choice to stick together."

His hand tightens in hers and he shuts his eyes, breath hitching as Ego's ruggedly handsome face imprints on the back of his eyelids sinisterly.

"Although the boy had found a new family to accept him, and now he wasn't a boy anymore but a man, he couldn't help but to still be curious about his biological father. And then one day, when their ship was locked in a terrible space battle, a strange craft appears to rescue them. The captain of that ship is everything the man thought his dad would be: kind and soft-spoken with flowing locks and warm brown eyes just like David Hasselhoff. It seems too good to be true, but he needs to know the truth. He goes back to his father's homeworld, abducted for the second time, but this time to a stunningly beautiful place. He falls in love with the landscape and wonders if it could be his home too, allowing himself to dream. But when the sun goes down, his father's assistant wakes him up to show him the truth of his identity. The man finds out that his father had killed all of his siblings... and his mother, but before he can regret how foolish he had been, his real dad and the crew show up to save him."

This version of the story is still a bit sad, he realizes, if only because it means he never met Gamora or formed the Guardians. But Peter supposes, he can make up for that in sequels. Why can't they write their own story now together after losing so much? Isn't that okay? He hopes desperately that his Gamora would be at peace with that idea, because he can't picture abandoning this Gamora now after it all. He pauses here too, wondering if she can remember Ego or any glimpses from that time. The thought scares him into finishing the story.

"The man and his daddy defeat the bad guy together when he teaches his son one last lesson: how to defend what he loves with his heart. Many people think brains, guts, and physical strength make a man strong, but the daddy was wise and knew better. He told him it comes from love and so, against all odds, they killed the David Hasselhoff imposter and rescued the woman who had been the only one to ever escape his wrath. The man found out it was actually his sister all along and his dad adopted her too, and they became a big happy family traveling the universe together. Except now they weren't thieves no more, but heroes."

Gamora is starting to draw a connection between the two of them. Both came from monsters in a sense, had true fathers who loved them dearly even while being difficult men, and mothers slain by monsters. Both ended their journeys with an unlikely sister.

The story itself is perfect. It might be easy to think once upon a time a younger Gamora may have loved a good story before bed. She actually feels herself grow tired as Peter goes on. She never loses focus on the tale. She visualizes every bit, her heart soaring at every triumph. Gamora worries for Peter even knowing it all clearly worked out.

She sighs contently at the end against his face. "That's such a good story." Gamora praises warmly. In a rare twist, there's no flash of memory to contradict anything Peter has said. It may as well be fairly close to the truth. "I like the part where he gets a sister best." Her voice is audibly drowsier. Good luck getting her to admit she is tired. With her modifications, she can get away with not sleeping for a very long time. It's their combined warmth and such pleasant imagery that makes Gamora feel this way.

Edited 2023-05-31 03:36 (UTC)

Though physically, Peter is much weaker and needs far more rest than Gamora, being close to her like this does anything but make him want to sleep. Still, he would be hard-pressed to relinquish their gained proximity now. He chuckles lowly, and if she hears some water in his tone it isn't imagined.

"Me too," he admits, voice crackling a bit which could easily be explained away by overuse. And his decibel does lower as a result, almost a whisper as he grows mindful of the late hour and her increasing drowsiness. "Somehow somethin' beautiful always comes from pain. Like how diamonds can only be made under extreme pressure."

She presses against him unconsciously, relishing the heat of their bodies. Gamora smiles as the words comfort her. It's a nice thought, especially for someone who has just barely escaped a lifetime of imprisonment and brainwashing. "Like a sister." Gamora agrees. "The next story should have them all meet." She decides having just thought of something as novel as a crossover. It's her last thought before falling into a black, dreamless sleep.

A smile curves his face softly at her last words, watching her drift off knowingly. He pushes some hair from her face that had fallen out of the braid before wrapping his free hand around her, determined not to feel guilty just this once for taking something they clearly both need right now if the way she huddles against him even in sleep is any indicator. Although it does take him significantly more time to fall under, his rest is similarly peaceful, and he even sleeps for more hours than he can remember stringing together for a long stretch now. At least, without the aid of alcohol or another substance.

"Gamora," he sighs in that plane between sleep and waking, his voice joyfully pitchy as her scent fills his nostrils and the press of their bodies keeps full consciousness pleasantly at bay. He doesn't fully grasp that this isn't his Gamora, perhaps, and why they shouldn't be so intimately entwined. His face is nestled into her throat and one of his legs braced between hers as his hand splays against the small of her back under her t-shirt.

Gamora for her part does not realize this kind of intimacy is abnormal as she sleeps. The Warrior feels a sense of security from their current positioning. Peter is covering her vulnerable points. He is keeping her warm even if she doesn't particularly need to be. As the waking world slowly makes itself known, Gamora begins to realize how wrong this is. The familiar intrusive thought starts to make itself known: allowing someone this close gives them the right to stick the knife in as deeply as they want. She can hear Thanos' voice ringing in her ears telling her what a disappointment his daughter is for getting so sentimental over a weak Terran. It feels so real that for a second Gamora is convinced he really is there.

Gamora draws back from Peter in a rush. One hand flies to one of her hidden blades, the other firmly on Peter's shoulder to push him close enough to be shielded by her body as she goes to stab a monster who isn't there. At first, she's confused and panting like she's out of breath. Just as quickly it hits her that her abuser is dead. She watched him turn into dust. Thanos cannot harm them. "Foolish." Gamora spits out venomously. She releases Peter to (predictably) begin the process of running away.

On some level, he was aware of how this could end. It's telling that he was still perfectly willing to take the risk, though not surprising given his general lack of self-preservation especially where Gamora is concerned. He's awake by the time she's grabbing the knife, sidetracked briefly by wondering where she hid it as he hazily glances over his shoulder to see the blade glance by him and slice through the air. At least it wasn't his head, he reasons, frowning at the tone of her voice even if he can't grasp just yet what's going on.

"Where are you going?" he gets out with a crackly morning voice, leaning back against his pillow as he rubs at one eyeball with a knuckle. It's impossible not to smile as she comes into focus despite the scowl she's wearing.

Gamora stops her stomping long enough to answer the question. She is torn between being furious with Peter for being a weakness to exploit, grateful he is safe, and then for daring to smile at her when she is feeling so out of control. She hates herself for still being terrified of a dead man. "Out." She yells unnecessarily before completing her stomping out.

It lacks a punch as she is forced to acknowledge they're in space. There isn't room to really go further than her quarters. Gamora heads that way to change into regular attire, splash some water on her face, and in general just calm down.

She emerges to what passes for their kitchen a good fifteen minutes later to track down something to drink. Gamora tells herself she is not avoiding Peter and the complicated swirl of emotions he's drawing out of her.

Peter allows himself to lay there and watch her go, sighing to himself as she disappears from the doorway. He holds out hope for five minutes or so, but when he's sure she isn't coming back he forces himself up to get ready for the day. Even though it's the last thing he wants to be doing, Peter finds himself replaying her attack on the ghost by his bed while he's numbly going through his morning routine. Somehow, it's more disturbing than if she had just attacked him the way she warned him she might. But then it's sinking in how she covered him, protecting him from the invisible threat...

It feels like ages later that he makes it down to the galley himself, but it can't be as late as he thinks it is because the others haven't fully descended onto them yet from their separate sects of the ship's bowels. That and he didn't actually expect Gam to still be in the communal area for them to run into one another.

Peter clears his throat softly though he knows there's no real way to sneak up on her, offering a lame little nod when his eyes alight on hers briefly. "We're still going for those trees, right? They sounded real pretty."

She could run away from him before he ever realized she was there. Gamora opts to do the hard thing. The anger has passed by now. The warrior mostly feels humiliated. She can't control the way her mind wanders at night. She never wanted Peter to witness it despite knowing logically his Gamora likely went through the same thing.

She waits for him to enter the space. She's settled on a cheap instant drink that she once enjoyed for breakfast before she was willing to let Peter cook for her. "We can still go." She starts drinking to fill the silence, avoiding any eye contact with him. Finally, she points out: "I warned you."

He's grinning brightly already at her instant acquiescence, biting his lips so as not to completely blind her with the wattage of his smile. Playing it cool is kind of out of the picture, but he still shrugs a shoulder and tries for posterity's sake. "You did," Peter acknowledges, not sure if he's supposed to talk about it or put it behind them. He opts for the latter more out of necessity when he sees her going for that instant space crap. "What are you doing? You know I'll be making everyone else breakfast anyway." It's how he initially talked her into letting him feed her, the pragmatism is harder to argue with than his own bent towards sentimentalism. They all know he puts just a little more love into her meals anyway without him saying anything.

She wants to draw away at that bright smile. It doesn't offend her. The opposite actually: it makes her feel good to be the cause of it. Then she remembers the offensive item she does have in her hand. Gamora, the deadliest woman in the galaxy, scrambles to hide it. She's at a kitchen table so her attempt is mostly looking around for somewhere to stash it, failing, and getting up to throw the instant drink in the fridge.

"I wasn't sure you would today," Gamora weakly argues. She does like his breakfast. She was just sulking. "I'll save it for another time." It'll be undrinkable, but that hardly matters to her. She'll force herself to drink it anyways.

( OPEN ) Peter Q

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