lucky_no9 (lucky_no9) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-05-15 15:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | peter quill (star-lord), stanley worthington (nine) |
Who: Nine & Peter Quill
When: Earlier this week
What: Cruising and chatting
Where: Along the coastal highway
Rating: Low
Status: Complete
When Nine said he was a rich kid, Peter didn’t think he was actually rich.
That changed quickly when buddy picked him up in a flashy car that was more initials than name. And the sound system -- oh the sound system. Peter could push these buttons for daaaaays.
“I don’t understand,” he said, flicking through the satellite radio, “how you don’t just live in your car. All day. All the time. I mean, these seats were made for butts. And the music! THE MUSIC!” He grinned. “I don’t know if I’ve told you but literally music is my life. There’s no ifs, ands or buts about it. I could seriously sing my entire day away if people weren’t about to hit me which is totally unfair considering how amazing I am at singing.”
Nine was, to say the least, very amused at Peter’s reaction to his car. Sure, he’d had it for a bit and to him, it wasn’t that exciting but he was also aware that he was certainly lucky to have grown up with such luxuries.
“Well, for starters, there’s no shower in here. Second...my bed is very comfortable. Third, living in my car would probably make it not look as nice as it does,” he explained with a chuckle. “You do know that you can listen to music in an apartment, too, right? And you should see the sound system I have there.” His entertainment center was certainly very high end.
“You can always attend an open mic night...do you play any instruments?” he asked as he continued to drive them up the coast, removing his hands from the wheel so he could focus his telekinesis to take over the steering.
“Uhhh…” Peter was about to answer when he saw Nine let go of the wheel. When they didn’t crash immediately and die in a horrible, fiery fashion, Peter let go of the arm rest, one eye still warily on the steering wheel. He could probably reach out and grab it. Probably. He’d just have to trust there was some weird secret AI system or something. “I don’t play any instruments, no, just sing. Used to lead a punk rock band out in Denver for a while.”
He sat up a bit straighter and grinned. “I think if I tried to play music as loud as I wanted, the old man would kill me. I live with Yondu, don’t know if you know him. So I think I have like a pair of shitty little bluetooth speakers that I can blast when he’s not home.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s like living with a parent who isn’t your parent but who basically has known you your entire life so you like owe him something. Or whatever.”
“I get that,” he comment. “My dad is actually my adoptive father but he’s been there for me ever since. So, I get the feeling that you owe him.” It was hard for Nine to buy gifts for his father as the man was like him and bought what he wanted. Still, the man preferred just spending time together.
“Lucky for me, the floor below my apartment is mainly a floor for my apartments electrical stuff. Can’t exactly have a pool and hot tub in an apartment without the extra room.” He smirked and set the cruise control without his powers, able to just relax a tad more and to focus on steering.
It was interesting to hear that Nine was adopted. Peter had never known anyone to be adopted. Not that he expected that person to be any different. Actually, this was a weird train of thought, even for Peter.
“Damn,” Peter laughed. “How are we friends again? Because for the first month, I slept on a couch with a blanket I shared with the dog. I have a room now, but it’s definitely not hot tub territory.” He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know that I’ve ever known anyone with a hot tub actually. Growing up in the cornfields of Missouri, folks didn’t really have extra cash. I remember, whenever our toaster would crap out, I’d head over to the Salvation Army, dig around their appliances and make one that would work. I had a lot of weird looking appliances, but we always had what we needed.”
Nine gave a shrug, “You got me. I thought you were loaded.” Of course, he was teasing and it didn’t matter to him how much, or little, Peter had. “So, you at an handy-man? Don’t know if I have ever been to Missouri,” he mentioned, pausing to think. “Maybe I will give you a call the next time something breaks down. Of course, that wasn’t too often. Nine took good care of his things.
“So, when do you want me to whip you into better shape?” He asked.
Peter groaned and sunk into the seat. He’d been missing classes, and of course Nine would point that out. “I can’t help it if I have too many booty calls keeping me up at night… I sleep in and miss class.” He rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, my life is sooo hard. But yeah, I can’t afford like ...private classes, cuz handy-man and all. It’s what I do now, and sure, I’ve got some contracts with super rich people, like Tony Stark rich...cause one of those people is Tony Stark.” He grinned. “But I know what you’re going to say -- something something only one body something something worship it….I gotta make this a priority, huh.”
Nine knew of Tony Stark and had seen him posting on the community, as well, but he hadn’t had any actually conversation with the man. “Actually, I was gonna say that it’s your choice but you just can’t complain about turning into a lump, later,” he shot back, casually. He’d encountered many other of the similar mindset. “You haven’t hired me so I’m not gonna make you feel bad about your failures when it comes to prioritizing your own physical health over other things.” Of course, he knew that his comment was a bit backhanded but his goal was to make Peter consider the option. “I, also, didn’t ever mention money,” he pointed out.
The spaceman had no desire to become a potato. He was also fairly certain that if he lost his abs, Katherine would stop talking to him all together. And she was fun, so that was a no.
“Buddy,” Peter said, almost rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to ask you to do work for free. Legit, that’s like asking an artist to paint, or a photographer to do your wedding pictures. I mean, you don’t pay your rent with exposure. That’s not fair.” He paused. “And you probably have a fancy dancy contractor or whatever, but I can trade work. I’m okay with that.” He grinned. “But enough work stuff! Tell me how things are going with you. No more dreams?”
“So, you pretty much would be getting free lessons...cause I take good care of my stuff. Not to mention my dad has a go-to repairman. Nothing like years of loyalty.” Technically, Sandor was Nine’s landlord since he owned the apartment...and the building. At the mention of the dreams, Nine’s focus on driving faltered for a brief moment and he slightly crossed into the shoulder before fixing his alignment.
“No more bad dreams...after the ones where I had to...well, they’ve been relatively better. But we are still on the run from the Mogs.”
Peter would find a way to pay Nine back. How, he had absolutely no idea. Obviously the younger man could pay for whatever he needed, but still. Peter would find a way.
“Aliens are assholes,” Peter offered, staring out the window. He turned and looked at Nine and gave a rueful smile. “Complete assholes. I should know, I basically was raised out there ...I think. My dreams aren’t linear like some people’s are. Kind of jump all over the place. I know how my story plays out, and it ends with me disappearing into dust, but how I got there? Not too sure.” Peter gave a shrug.
Chaos was something he knew well.
“Are you worried about your enemies crossing over into your real life too? Because sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, just to count my fingers. Make sure I’m not a pile of dust or ash. It’s fucked.”
“You do know that I am an alien, right?” He questioned, his eyes on the road. “I had a few gaps but they got filled in. Didn’t exactly know how I got to Chicago after our landing and separation.” He shrugged. He wondered just how much was left to experience.
“I haven’t really thought about it...but it seems we can handle weird shit here.”
Peter wasn’t sure if he knew or not but now he felt bad. “Hey man, it seems like I spent a lot of time in space, so I may as well be an alien. And I meant the aliens that are evil assholes. They’re the definition of asshole. Maybe because they’re so alien…..” None of this was making sense, and Peter had the feeling that he should give up while he was ahead. “Sorry, it’s a weird rabbit hole I just went into. It’s just ..these dreams, man. They’re so weird. I thought I was me and now I’m me but like a space me and it’s just ...weird.” He sighed. “And if my crazy father-in-law showed up right now and demolished 50% of the population like in my dreams...that would be the worst.”
“Relax, man…” Nine said calmly. “I know you weren’t trying to offend. Besides, if you were, I could just mess you up.” He chuckled and gave Peter a light punch on the shoulder. “The dreams are certainly a trip but it doesn’t seem that we can do anything to stop them or their effects. We just have to be glad that not everything transfers over...imagine all the crazy shit that our world would have to deal with.”
Peter didn’t doubt that Nine could ‘mess him up’. And what the younger man said, made sense. “If all of that stuff came over here, dammmn.. Can you imagine the therapy that like ..all of EARTH would need?” Peter chuckled. “There wouldn’t be a couch big enough….”
The song ended and he reached for the controls, picking something at random.
Leaning his head back against the headrest, he couldn’t help but smile. It was nice to have a friend.