Who: Yondu Udonta and Peter Quill When: First week of June Where: The Quadrant (Yondu’s ship) What: Shooting things and taking names Rating/Warnings: Green Status: Complete
“This, Yondu. This is what I was meant for.” Peter was giddy like a school child, his hands firmly wrapped around the turret’s handles. He was shooting small asteroids into smaller asteroids, laughing at the destruction out in space.
Space.
Sometimes, he couldn’t believe it. He had enough memories now to know that he practically grew up in space (although the specifics were still vague and he didn’t want to ask Yondu) but actually being here, when he’d thought for so many years there was absolutely nothing interesting about him? Damn. Double Damn. TRIPLE damn even. This was cool. And on top of everything, he had his little radio, playing down by his feet, the soothing sounds of Freddy Mercury crooning in the background.
Using his superior pool skills, he banked a shot off of one asteroid, watching as it smashed into a few others, creating a series of explosions. “Okay that was cool. Space is cool. ALL OF THIS IS COOL. Did you see that? Huh? Didja??”
“Sure did, kid. Nice job.” Yondu chuckled from the bridge. He was busy fussing with a rubix cube, feet kicked up on the console. He hadn't seen it, but Peter didn't need to know that. Yondu had been watching Peter for the better part of an hour before he got bored. With no one else aboard save Kraglin it was quiet. Well except for The Who hollering “Who Are You” over the bridge radio, nearly drowning out Peter's music he got snatches of everytime Peter said something over the comms. “Least if we ever get into an Armageddon situation we all know who's gonna save our asses.”
“I’d save Earth so hard,” Peter said low-key, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head. There was a sense of peace within him, something he hadn’t felt in a long while. Bouncing back and forth for a moment, he suddenly stood up and stretched, his foot accidently kicking over his radio.
With a swear, he reached down and brushed it off. It was old, still played casettes, and he liked it. He’d found it in a thrift store and had fixed it up. Now he could play his mom’s mixes, some which he found in her things. It was nice to be able to think of her without that pit of regret in his chest. He was actually starting to do things with his life, legal things. Things anyone could be proud of.
“What else can we blow up?”
If Yondu had known Peter had dug into that off limits part of the closet in what was now Peter’s bedroom, it probably would have resulted in a heavily charged shouting match. But deep down inside, he probably would have given Meredith’s mix tapes to Peter regardless, as he knew in the dreams how much his mother’s mix tape had meant to him. The boy had guarded that walkman and its constantly played tape with his life, and as a pirate, Yondu could respect that.
“Well, there ain’t no Accusers around, so that’s out.” Ronan the Accuser was such a pain in the ass. Yondu was glad in the end the little fanatical prick had been vaporized a la Infinity Stone. “No Kree or golden hordes.” What the hell was the name of that insanely arrogant race? He’d forgotten. “Sorry, kid. Ain’t got much left. Unless you wanna start moving some space junk from around earth and blowin’ that up elsewhere.”
Peter thought about it for a moment before sighing. "Nah, someone will notice that..." Better to stick to asteroids, but his heart wasn't in it anymore. Opening the bottom hatch, he lowered himself down effortlessly, dangling for a bit from the rim of the opening.
Those workout sessions were coming in handy. He dangled for a bit, did a half hearted series of crunches before landing loudly on his feet. Always having been heavy-footed, he clomped his way back to the bridge, throwing himself heavily on the seat next to Yondu's. Peter's seat.
One leg tossed casually over the arm rest, he leaned back and grabbed a slinky, letting the plastic cascade through his fingers. "I'm booooored. Entertain me. Tell me a story or something."
Yondu snorted. "A story? What do I look like, Mary Poppins?" After he said it and heard himself, he almost laughed as that particular dream memory popped into his head. He set aside the Rubix cube and looked over at Peter. "I brought you up here an' I been watching you blow up shit for an hour. Why don't you entertain me?" He retorted.
Peter waved a dismissive hand and focused on the metal for a few more moments. As if Yondu could pass for Mary Poppins -- for one thing, he was too blue. Peter only had vague memories of that movie, but he was fairly certain Mary Poppins was also a woman. “Well, let’s go somewhere then. Do something. You’re the one at the controls WHICH you won’t let me touch, by the way.”
This was definitely a point of contention, although he understood Yondu’s wariness. Although Peter had the muscle memory needed to build the stupid ship, neither of them were sure he could pilot it.
“I mean,” Peter continued, “how am I going to practice and figure out what I can do if you keep cock-blocking me here, man? I’m a pilot too! Space is in my blood and shit.”
Damn, if the kid only knew how true that was. Being half celestial meant he literally had space in his blood.
But that still didn't mean he was about to let him pilot the Quadrant.
"Listen up, Quill." Yondu started to scowl at Peter's outburst, "The Quadrant is my ship. Only I get to fly her. You wanna fly somethin' you can wait for the dreams to give you your own ship. I don't need you hyper jumping us someplace crazy."
Peter harumphed and fidgeted some more before suddenly sitting up straight. “Well fine. I haven’t had any dreams in a while, and maybe if I sleep, they’ll tell me how I got stuck with such a crabby ass like you.”
He glanced over to Yondu and sighed heavily. Loudly. “Come onnnnnnn. Let’s go. Can we see Mercury? Or Mars? I always wanted to go to Mars. Did you know that the population of Mars is one deceased robot? That’s cool! I mean ..sad for the robot.” He paused. “I bet I could fix it.”
Yondu just shot Peter a look at being called crabby. He wasn't crabby, he was just more...grounded. For an alien in a spaceship floating around the asteroid belt.
"We can swing by Mars but my bet is you don't know how to use a space suit yet do you?" Judging by what dreams Peter had shared with him thus far it was an educated guess. "Cuz I ain't sendin' you nowhere outside this ship unless you know how. If you lie to me I ain't gonna rescue your ass." That was a lie. But Peter didn't need to know that.
Yondu turned the ship around and set a course for Mars. After a few long moments of just listening to his playlist (which he'd turned down when Peter had come up from the weapons bay) his gravelly voice finally said by way of conversation, "How's things with you and that hot little number? What's her face, the latina chick."
On the list of things Peter expected Yondu to bring up, Evie was on the bottom of it. “Evie?” Peter gave Yondu a strange look and it took him a moment to stop thinking about spacesuits and how he probably could wing if it Yondu gave him a chance.
Yondu would save him, Peter was sure of it….but he didn’t really want to take the risk, that 1% that it wouldn’t.
“I dunno, fine? I guess? She’s just a friend with extreme benefits. Neither of us wants more, and we’ve both agreed to wing-man for the other if the time comes, so it’s cool. Now that I’ve realized she’s not crazy, we have fun. Katherine’s crazy too, but in a different way. Evie, I’m worried she’ll shave my head in my sleep. With Kat, I’m worried she’ll stab me. And not in my sleep but like in my face while I’m awake because she’s crazy.”
Peter always had been attracted to dangerous women. The only thing he’d done right was explain to both that they weren’t the only ones. He really didn’t want to die.
“You probably know what that’s like, since you know, you spend some much time with Jessica.” He waggled his brows. “She’s crazy too.”
Yondu side eyed him good naturedly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I dunno what you're talkin' about, boy. Jess is a...friend...and a normal woman who has no intentions of stabbin' me." A pause. "An' why n'the'hell would you hook up with a woman that could stab you in the face?" But as the words came out he thought of Gamora and realized Peter was more like his dream self than he realized. Yondu chuckled. "Damn. Nevermind. You got a type. Like that in the dreams."
That made sense -- Gamora, she seemed terrifying too. But in this life, he actually didn’t feel anything much for Kat or Evie other than sexual attraction. He liked Wanda and she was as scary as a mouse… still. “Scary women are sexy. Like Jessica.” Peter got a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “If you’re not tappin’ that, then hey, maybe I’ll give it a try. I have these soulful puppy dog eyes, you know. Women can’t resist that.”
Yondu busted out laughing, keeping his eyes on the control panels and the forward window. "Boy, she'd snap you like a twig." Literally. Yondu had borne witness firsthand to her superpowers. It was terrifying. And kind of a turn on.
" 'Sides, she ain't interested in you or your eyes. Cuz she's too busy bein' busy with me." And Yondu's red hued eyes slid over to look at Peter, his expression pure macho confidence. Yeah, he was tappin' that all right.
Instantly, Peter threw his arms up in victory. “Aw yeah!!” He had been joking about getting with Jessica, and had kind of secretly hoped that Yondu would grow a set and ask her out. It was nice to hear it was going to happen. Maybe Yondu would be nicer now that he was getting some.
Probably not.
“Does that mean the policy on girls in the house will be lifted?”
Yondu's brow furrowed a little in confusion at the sudden celebration. Clearly he'd missed something, though aside from the momentary stare he wasn't about to show it. He shook his head instead and chuckled. The boy was just weird sometimes.
Yondu sat back to enjoy the ride to Mars when Peter followed up with a question he should have already known the answer to. He smirked. "Not a chance."