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...whale food porn. what is my life. thanks, nasu.

Caught in the rain

It started out quietly, and then, quite suddenly, you're caught in a storm. Time to find cover. Nothing much to do but to wait it out.

Scenarios listed below for those who want 'em.

i WHERE:
001 PLAYGROUND - Well, you can try to hide under the slide or maybe in the jungle gym... at least you're some place fun?
002 PARK - Always happens, caught outside trying to take advantage of the weather... and it ends up pulling a fast one on you.
003 STORE FRONT - Better hope they have an awning you can take advantage of.
004 THE BEACH - Not exactly the best place to be during a rainstorm, however it is possible to get caught in a sudden storm.
005 WILD CARD - Anyway you want it.

ii HOW:
001 TREE - Not the best cover, but it'll have to do, stay close to the roots and you won't get too wet.
002 UMBRELLA - Most conventional... Kinda boring. But it works.
003 NEWSPAPER - Not permanent, but it'll have to do. Good luck.
004 BAG - Well... y'gotta do what you gotta do.
005 NONE - You know what. You're a rebel. You don't need cover. Screw convention.
006 WILD CARD - that's the way you need it.

iii WHY:
001 REJECTED - Welp. Rejection sucks. And no one will see you crying in the rain.
002 WAITING - For the bus? For someone else? For some revelation? What are you waiting for.
003 MELANCHOLY - Sometimes the best place to feel a bit down is out in the rain.
004 HAPPINESS - Is everything going your way? Are you singing a refrain while walking down the lane? Just singing. Singin' in the rain.
005 ANGER - WELL YOU KNOW WHAT. SCREW YOU TOO, RAIN.
006 WILD CARD - Anyway you want it.

>> POST with your character
>> TAG others, use RNG if you need to, or just make up your own scenario if you want!
>> HAVE FUN.

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[ He grinned, catching sight of the smile she tried to hide. ]

Still dunno what you’re talkin’ about. Still just my face.

[ His eternally stupid, smiling face.

Peter looked around the store, ostensibly to get a better look at the other products, but he was scoping out the place. The employee in question was toward the back of the store, making a bit of a show of straightening shelves. (In all likelihood, the clerk was taking a break but was currently trying to look busy, now that customers were here.) The clerk didn’t look particularly worried about them, even if he did seem curious about why they looked like they’d been put through a blender.

At her prompting, pointing out the shirt she planned on swiping, Peter gave a quick shrug of his shoulders in response. “All the same to me,” he silently said. Her question earned her a soft, quick laugh. ]

I dunno. Right now? My gut reaction is, no, probably not.

[ Gingerly, he prodded at the bruising bump on his head. ]

Could’ve gone without the headache, though.

I didn't think so. Truth is, dinner would have been nice but I like this too. Without the headache.

[ Gamora wanted to say that she hated his face, but she really, really didn't. That was becoming far too obvious. Maybe it was the fact that they weren't currently on the ship, or in the middle of a mission that had her being more relaxed about it than usual.

It was what a date was for, right? Explosions and stolen hovercars aside. She shifted like they were about to start dancing in the middle of the store, Gamora still taking Peter's weight even as she used one hand to reach behind him and take a t-shirt. At least the ugly sweater would now serve a purpose. It could be used to smuggle goods.

And then she did something that horrified even her as she gave a giggle like she was one of those many waifs Peter had previously wasted his time on. There was another giggle as she pretended he'd said something shocking. ]

Stop it! Can't you just wait until we get a room?

[ She couldn't make eye contact with Quill for a few seconds as she tried to sell this truly horrible persona. She shifted just enough to reach one of the more feminine t-shirts and that got shoved up the back of the ugly sweater as well. ]

Okay, okay! Wow, you're so impatient. Forget the souvenirs then.

[ She took his waist and gave an exaggerated look of apology to the cashier who was only mildly interested in the fact that the odd pair were no longer going to be interrupting their break. ]

He's just so insatiable! Thank you, sorry. Have a good night!

[ A final giggle as she turned her head in towards Peter's and she was quickly taking him out of the store and heading straight for the front desk. Her false smile dropped in an instant. She really wasn't going to be able to maintain that kind of voice through another conversation. ]

[ He grinned as she stuck the t-shirts underneath his lumpy sweater, still struck by how weird this all was. Most days, the Guardians were more or less on the straight and narrow, only dipping into grey areas when absolutely necessary. That put stealing firmly off the list of allowable activities, and while Peter never missed it, he did occasionally miss the spike of excitement that came with it, the little thrill and the precarious moment of wondering whether or not he would be caught.

So to see Gamora indulging in this, indulging him in his terrible habits, was new. But it was the act that struck him silent for a second. He was used to that sort of behavior, of course, had been with enough girls who giggled and play-batted at him for some suggestive comment, and maybe on some other girls, it worked.

On Gamora, though, it was— weird. It was the only way he could describe it. Weird. But being a sometimes con-man back in his criminal days (which were all of three or so months ago), meant Peter was quick on his feet, and he quickly played along. It wasn’t too hard, after all, considering he had already been grinning like crazy. When Gamora apologized to the clerk, Peter followed it up with a playful sort of wink at the poor, confused guy, and he wrapped his arm more firmly around Gamora’s shoulders.

He could almost feel the shift in her demeanor, once they were out of the store, and Peter couldn’t help but snicker a little. ]

Oh my god. [ This, on a whisper. ] Please, never do that again.

You mean you don't like that kind of girl anymore?

[ Gamora tried to never act jealous. Even when she had strongly suspected flirting with Ayesha. So maybe the question should have been kept for herself. She really had no reason to question Peter's feelings for her. And she hated herself for needing just a tiny bit of reassurance. ]

And if I didn't need a shower before now, I definitely need one after that. I promise you that I am never, ever doing that again.

[ Gamora got them a room, answering any questions about their state of appearance with her usual death glare that usually put a stop to small talk. She had nothing against the clerk at the front desk, she just wanted to be in a room and away from the memory of those giggles.

She waited until they were in the elevator going up to their room before she shifted to fish the t-shirts from out the back of Peter's ugly sweater. She also didn't move away immediately when they were once more in a sort of embrace. Even if she had her knee between his legs to help keep him steady. ]

The things I do for you, Quill.

[ She asked it flatly enough, as per her usual delivery, that Peter didn’t quite read into the question, didn’t see that quiet need for reassurance. He figured it was more of the same &dnash; he knew he and Gamora had feelings for each other, but he also figured she didn’t quite care what he might have gotten up to with other girls, the way flirtation seemed to be his default form of discourse.

(He had apologized for flirting with the High Priestess, but he also figured he might have been doing a fair bit of projection, there, reading annoyance in Gamora’s expression when there wasn’t any.)

But his answer came simply, and he teasingly nudged her with his hip. ]

I mean I like it better when you’re you.

[ But her claim about needing a shower was met with a quiet laugh. Yeah, that sounded about right.

Peter was pretty sure Gamora set a world record for how quickly she got that room. It was a bit of a blur, getting from the front desk to the elevator, and when Gamora rearranged them, with his back against the elevator’s wall and Gamora at his front, warm and solid, with her arms around his waist, he hummed, almost contentedly. ]

It’s ‘cause you’re the best.

[ And the words were delivered with a matter-of-fact air, like declaring water was wet or fire was hot.

Ah, and there it was again – that crooked, earnest sort of smile. ]

‘S why I like you so much.

Why, Peter, are we actually speaking about the unspoken thing again?

[ Sometimes it was a relief that Quill was oblivious to her true motivations. That her deadpan delivery did allow for him to mistake her alterior motives. She could get the reassurance without him even needing to know it was reassurance that he was offering.

She gave him a slightly teasing grin as she nudged him in return. She also had to admit she liked it when he was being so matter-of-fact that honesty didn't even need to be questioned. He could charm his way out of any situation and into any situation.

But it was his stupid, honest, earnest face that she liked best. ]

Maybe it's just that you bring out my better sides.

[ With Quill she had a chance to be more than a weapon and a killer. With Quill she had a chance at something real, and not just following orders. She put her head against his shoulder and finally let herself truly feel the relief at knowing he was okay. ]

I like you too, Peter. I like who I am with you.

[ She felt warm and solid against him, and his arms wrapped around her waist as she settled. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, eyes slipping shut. ]

All of you's good.

[ That same authoritative tone, because Peter was absolutely certain it wasn't about him, or him bringing out the best in her (because he was pretty sure that it was the other way around). Gamora just needed a chance to find more of herself, needed to get away from Ronan and Thanos and all those giant assholes to let more of herself rise to the surface.

But that was a slightly complicated sentiment to express while slightly concussed, so he left the topic at that.

He still ached all over, and there was a dull throb pounding behind his temples, but he felt good like this. He could have stayed there all day, if he needed to.

... Except a quiet, pleasant voice announced they had reached their floor, and Peter let out a dismayed, petulant sort of noise. ]

Dammit.

[ Now they had to move again. ]

[ Gamora bit back a grin at hearing his protest. She was pretty sure he'd protest even more if she just slung him over her shoulder, but it was tempting. Instead she reluctantly pulled out of the embrace to take her position as she had done each time they'd needed to move.

His arm back across her shoulders, hers locked securely around his waist as she held the keycard ready in between her fingers. Once they were in the room there was an opportunity to not move.

To find their way into an embrace again. To just be.

She was still fighting an urge to call a medic of some variety but at least in the room there would be towels and cloths to clean up Peter's wounds. A chance to change out of the ugly sweater.

It was tempting to hold onto it just for the reminder. Not that she was going to forget the mental image of him wearing it any time soon. Gamora got them into the room and tried as hard as she could not to just throw Peter down onto the sofa.

She eased him down onto it, and put the t-shirts down next to him before she looked around the room. Much like on Ego's planet everything was way above their normal level of comfort. It certainly beat anything they had on the ship. ]

This just makes me think we should get away more often.

[ The bright side of their night getting cut short, he thought, was that it led to this – an excuse to have their sides pressed together like this, an excuse for them to be so close. Obviously it wasn't an ideal way to go about things, but for all his talk of being cynical and jaded, Peter had a tendency to look for the silver linings.

Considering how swanky the rest of the hotel had been, Peter shouldn't have been too surprised by the state of their room. Even so, once the keycard admitted them into the room, Peter couldn't help but let out a soft, impressed hum. (No wonder Gamora was worried about being able to pay, he thought, and a bit of guilt twisted in his stomach at the reminder.)

When she eased him onto the couch, setting down the shirts, Peter huffed out a quiet laugh. ]

Probably.

[ He started trying to tug off the sweater, though it was slow going with how his battered body protested. ]

Then again, things tend to blow up every time we take time for ourselves...

[ Now Gamora wasn't so concerned with the fact that this room was going to cost her. She couldn't help but think alone similar lines to Peter. That the night was a good excuse to stay close, to be just the two of them. Dinner would have been nice - she had no doubts about that - but she still suspected that even if it was just her own behaviour, something about it would have been stiff and unnatural.

This was familiar ground for them. Just like kissing on a battlefield. It was more natural than some formal setting. Unplanned. The environment wasn't what made something romantic.

She huffed out a quiet laugh before moving to help him with the sweater. The shirt underneath wasn't something she was going to be careful with. It was already destroyed and there was nothing to keep safe. She may have been unable to hide the way she looked at his exposed chest and torso as she peeled away the fabric. ]

I guess we're just going to have to at least remember to bring a change of clothes.

[ She was hardly going to say they should stop taking time for themselves. Though she supposed she needed to reassess the part where that meant others might have to keep suffering through explosions just because she and Peter wanted to be alone. ]

[ He cast her a grateful look as she moved in to help, helping him tug the ruined shirt and (frankly offensive) sweater up and over his head. Thankfully, despite standing through an actual explosion, he had little to show for it aside from a few bruises along his ribs, a handful of cuts from the flying debris. His skin was still a little chilly from the rain, but the warm air of the hotel room helped soothe that away.

He reached for the stolen t-shirt, inspecting it quickly for any price tags or security tabs, and at her comment, he grinned over at her.

(There was an easy joke to make, after all. Something about having a “spare set of clothes” to alleviate any walks of shame come morning, but considering the tenuous nature of their relationship, he decided to keep that joke to himself.)

Instead, ]

Nothing screams “romance” like carting around overnight bags to intimate dinners.

[ With any visible tags ripped off or tucked away, Peter pulled the shirt on. It depicted the hotel’s logo – in a tasteful fashion, which hardly surprised him – but a part of him had hoped it would be one of those corny souvenir shirts. “My restaurant got blown up, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.” ]

Isn't romance subjective?

[ Gamora's look of amusement wasn't hidden as she gave a quiet laugh at his joke. And then she shifted to pull her own top off, to reveal the bra underneath. There might have once been a consideration of modesty when it came to changing, but they had known each other long enough - worked together long enough - that seeing each other like this was normal.

Even if she still did quietly appreciate Peter's body. She still had urges. She was just better at hiding them. She hoped.

Her own t-shirt was similar to Peter's but it seemed to have a little glitter involved. Something very un-Gamora. And it was true that jokes could be made about the morning after and the walk of shame, but she was grateful that Peter didn't make them this time around.

She turned to him, her hand touching his face as it had done briefly when she'd found him in the rubble before Gamora got up to find the room service menu.

If they were going to live large and only have the t-shirts to show for it, then they were going to make the most of their situation. It was still a date after all.

Gamora stretched as she stood, lifting her shirt to check a tender spot. There was a cut but it would heal soon enough. ]

[ Life on a small ship with four other people (well, three people and a small sapling) meant little to no privacy, and considering Peter was never really shy about his own body, changing his clothing in front of the others had never been much of a problem. The first few times Gamora had changed in the common area of the Milano, though, Peter had caught himself staring, and consequently caught himself whirling around, staring up at the ceiling to show that he wasn’t staring.

By now, though, it was a common enough occurrence that Peter hardly batted an eye when Gamora pulled off her shirt.

(... He still totally looked, though. And maybe he watched with a little more interest than he should have, but Gamora didn’t seem too bothered by it, never told him to knock it off.)

He grinned at the sparkly nature of her shirt, though any comments he would have made die on his lips as her fingertips brushed across his cheek. He leaned into her touch, breathing out a quiet, contented sigh, and his lips curled into a gentle, barely there smile. The moment was short-lived, though, as she stepped away, and he frowned at the sight of that cut and the little trail of blood. ]

Hey. You alright?

[ And maybe Peter worried too much; the rest of the team were superhuman, basically, could take the sort of beating that would make even a boulder balk, but still. He hated seeing any of them hurt, and after particularly rough jobs, Peter had a tendency to hover, offering his assistance to patch them up.

A mindset he never shook-off from his childhood, he would admit. A feeling of helplessness would cling to him, something bitter and cold that made him think of darkened hospital rooms and hushed whispers and ashen skin. ]

[ Gamora neither told Peter to stop looking, or encouraged it outside of continuing to change in the common area. If she minded, chances were he would have had some kind of injury by now to teach him to stop staring. Or maybe there was the slightest possibility that Gamora was still somewhat oblivious to certain effects she had on him.

Tonight though, she was more than a little aware and changing in front of him wasn't entirely just out of habit. She came back over with the room service menu and handed it to him as she gave him a nod. ]

Fine. I didn't even realise it was there until now.

[ But she did tear off a relatively clean strip of his destroyed shirt and handed that to him as well as she lifted her shirt back up. If it was going to make Peter relax, she would let him tie the strip of shirt around her middle to at least soak the blood so it didn't go through her new sparkly shirt. ]

I was too focused on finding you.

[ She said it as if it were no big deal, but at the time it very much had been a big deal. Any time she thought he was lost she was concerned. She would never call it panicking. She didn't panic. But everything was pushed to the side until she knew Peter was safe.

Or Rocket knocked her out first. ]

[ He frowned at her for a second, taking the offered strip from her and setting aside the menu. Once she lifted the shirt back up to reveal the wound, he realized it wasn't serious, really, but that didn't mean it shouldn't be tended to, all the same.

He wrapped the strip around her waist, careful as he pulled it over the wound. It wasn't the prettiest bit of field medicine he had ever performed, and it was hardly conventional, but when was anything they did ever conventional? He knotted the strip in place, giving it a critical look before nodding a little. ]

You should've taken care of yourself first.

[ A little softly, his hand resting lightly on her hip as he looked up at her.

The idea of anyone setting themselves aside for him didn't sit well with him, these days. Not after all the shit with Ego. Not after Yondu gave himself up so Peter could live.

The guilt still ate away at him, sometimes, struck him at odd, quiet moments. ]

You know that won't happen.

[ When has she ever actually done that? She comes last because she knows that most times she can heal. That most times she will still be able to push through whatever pain. The only time she ever took care of herself in his presence was their first meeting. And any fight with Nebula. She never expected him to become involved in those.

He was the one to break up the prison fight. He was the one to rescue her from space. He was there when she needed him most.

This was a cut that would heal soon enough. Nothing like his headwound. Some days it might feel like they were constantly trying to one up each other with who could save who, who could take care of who first, but not today.

Gamora stayed standing for the moment so that she didn't have to move his hand and reached out to once more trail her fingers down the side of his face as a smile that was appearing more and more when they were on their own curved her lips.

And then she took a hold of his hand before taking a chance as she sat in his lap and well and truly closed the physical distance between them as her fingers combed through his hair and she kissed his cheek. ]

Peter, I'm fine. [ You're not went unsaid. Even her mind had flicked to Yondu but she didn't exactly know how she was supposed to force him to let her take care of him without feeling guilty about it. ]

[ He frowned up at those words, argument after argument bubbling up in his throat. He needed his team to take care of themselves, first and foremost, because any of them trying to throw themselves in the line of fire for Peter? Any of them going down in a fight because peter wasn't good enough?

It made something sour in his gut, made his breath catch in his lungs.

But before he could give voice to any of those arguments, she climbed into his lap, and his brain briefly shorted-out, eyes widening and heartbeat pounding in his ears. The gentle kiss snapped him out of it, though, as did the way her fingers carded through his hair, and he deflated on a slow exhale, arms wrapping around her middle as he carefully pulled her closer. ]

You might not have been. [ And he said it quietly, the words pressing against her neck. ] It could've been worse.

But it wasn't. I'm here. I'm fine.

[ Gamora didn't believe in playing with 'what ifs'. That was a habit broken a long time ago by Thanos and Ronan. What if her parents hadn't been killed? What if her people hadn't been slaughtered? What if she had never been adopted by the tyrant? What if she hadn't been so set on winning against Nebula? What if she'd never met Peter?

There were too many what ifs.

She continued to move her fingers through the ends of his hair even as she rest her chin on the top of his head. It was an embrace neither of them would have risked on the ship. Here there was no audience. No one to bust in. No one to tease. ]

I'm not going anywhere, Peter.

[ She was warm against him, solid and there, and it was funny how the reality of the evening was only just now setting in. How close of a call that was, all things considered – something they were totally unprepared for, something they never would have seen coming. And how shameful would that have been, for two members of the illustrious Guardians of the Galaxy to get wiped out by some faceless asshole?

His arms wrapped tighter around her for a second, breathing in the smell of dirt and sweat and something distinctly Gamora. She was letting him get away with a lot more than usual, thanks to the privacy of the room; maybe at a different moment, he would have pointed out the added leeway in a teasing way, but for now, he just appreciates it. ]

I know.

[ in answer to her reassurances, because he did know, somehow. That unspoken thing that had fallen between them carried a lot more weight to it than just the romantic. There was implicit trust and a closer friendship than he's had in ages, and even with as exasperated as he could make Gamora, or with how frustrated she might make him, he knew he could trust her to be there for him, if she could.

Just as he'd do the same for her.

His arms loosened a little, as he sagged against her, and he shifted, pressing a quick, barely there kiss just beneath the hinge of her jaw before pulling back. ]

You're sure you're fine? [ He made a concerted effort to brighten his tone, to turn it teasing before he continued on. ] No grave injuries you're hiding? No broken bones?

You'd notice.

[ At least she was pretty sure he'd notice a broken bone. She wasn't that good of an actress despite what happened down in the gift shop. She also wasn't so foolish as to really hide a serious injury from him.

The trust really did go both ways, and while she might have still made sure he was alright, she wouldn't have sacrificed all of her self-care had she been injured to the point she was struggling.

Another smile tugged at her lips in the wake of the gentle kiss. Maybe she was letting him get away with a lot more, but it wasn't entirely altruistic. Gamora reached back out for the menu and held it so that he could see it as well. ]

We're both fine, so let's just eat and get back to our date. [ Not that even a bombing could have interrupted them for too long. Somehow they were still making it feel like a special occasion. Although that could have something to do with her willing to spring for the hotel room. ]

[ He had to concede that she was right; he trusted Gamora to be honest a lot more than he trusted himself of the same. (Of the two of them, Peter would be a lot more likely to hide something important like that, not that he’d ever admit as much aloud.) So now that he was finally convinced that she was fine, or that she’d at least be fine soon, he relaxed against her further, glancing at the menu when she held it up.

It was then that he realized he was kind of starving – apparently almost getting blown up will take a lot out of a guy – but even so, he only paid it a minimal amount of attention. His gaze caught on the first thing he recognized (and habit had him looking for the cheapest item, too), and he pointed it out – some entrée that reminded him of the burgers he used to have back on Earth, even if the bread was never quite right.

Decision made, he slumped against her again, letting out a contented sigh. She was warm against him, and even if he was incredibly sore, even if his head still felt like a guy was going nuts on a drum set in there, he was still surprisingly comfortable like this. ]

Just so you know, this is by far the weirdest date I’ve ever been on.

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