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2014-08-21
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First Mates

Summary:

Peter's not sure what to make of them, but he gets the feeling he's on the right track to finding out.

Notes:

A fill for the guardian kink meme: "Kraglin/Yondu, don't care what you write so long as it's this pairing + one of those super cute 4+1 collections".

Work Text:

I.

In the beginning, Peter is told they're first mates.

Yondu is a legend, both among his men and the galaxy he travels. Peter has a hard time defining him as a person, but he fits the exact mold of pirate kings in stories his mother use to tell him. Merciless but efficient. A little crooked, but very wise. Anyone who had attempted to challenge him in any matter was quickly silenced or "disposed of", as few had called it. Peter never really understood what they meant by it, but he did notice that the more rebellious crew mates were gradually disappearing. As strict as he was, he always got his way, and the boy couldn't deny it: Yondu was really good at being really bad.

A man with so much power probably couldn't trust anyone, especially with his type of reputation, but Yondu finds an equal in a very specific character. He stands a few inches taller than the captain, with a much lankier build, and to Peter's surprise, has a skin tone that's a lot like his own rather than a vibrant shade of blue. Peter likes to think he's human too, but the jagged smile he wears tells him otherwise. His name is Kraglin. Kraglin, Peter notes, is always by his captain's side.

"Good work out there, soldier." Yondu says with a scary grin. He leans in slightly to give the younger man a hard smack on his backside. "Saved my ass a whole mess of trouble back there."

Kraglin shrugs. There is pride in his smile, his voice. "Just doin' my job, sir."

Peter isn't allowed to leave the ship, so he never knows anything about the heists; how they're planned, what they're after. The most he can do is listen to these two either revel in a victory or wallow in a loss. Peter had seen this sort of encouragement before in baseball games he use to play. A coach would pat all of his players on the behind after every game. It signified a gesture of appreciation, or best wishes on the next one, someone had once told him. Yondu never did this act with anyone but Kraglin, and the young Quill just assumed he was the "MVP" of the crew. Peter nods in satisfaction at his theory.

"Most valuable pirate."



II.

Peter starts to think they're best friends.

Months pass and Peter gets invited to missions, mostly as a decoy to distract officials with some fake sob story about a lost pet or a twisted ankle. "Boy can't put up much of a fight," Yondu once said, "but damn is he good at bendin' over them officials."

The Terran youth can recall a very distinct mission that made him reconsider. Someone had turned in details on them for a profit, it seemed, and led the authorities right to the Ravagers just as their heist had unfolded. Peter remembers the explosions of bombs, the collapse of buildings, the screams of men. He remembers running through tear gas and tripping over lifeless bodies. He'd never been so happy to embark the ship before, but then again, he hadn't been this frightened since he was first abducted.

Corrupt ideals aside, the men were incredibly loyal. Those who hadn't been drastically injured went out to retrieve others, and even those who were damaged stayed behind to help crew mates in more critical conditions. Peter takes orders as they are given to him, whether it's a need for more water or the wrapping of a bandage. Within the chaos he feels important, needed. During his small service, Kraglin appeared before him, his wounded captain over his shoulder. It was the first and last time he'd ever see Yondu in need of help. 

Kraglin laid his comrade on the ship floor, wiping the sweat from his forehead and tending his wounds the best he could. His eyes are shut and his breaths are scarce. Peter doesn't know much, but he can tell by the gashes in his arms, his bloody cough, that Yondu's in bad shape. A medic emerges from the mess of men and gets to work. Kraglin waits to make sure he's well tended to, then gets up to make his leave.

"You can't go back out there!" The medic argues, bewildered. "We have enough men dead and wounded as it is!"

Kraglin doesn't look back, but he calls out so he's heard as he departs. "Captain dropped one of his novelties, gotta go back and get it!"

Kraglin returns wounded, as predicted, but nothing serious. Yondu scolds him for his actions, yet later praises him for returning the gaudy trinket. It's a jade bird, no bigger than a fist, with eyes that light up when in complete darkness. Peter later learns that the value of this item is rather small, but the worth of its retrieval is priceless. 

Peter comes to the second conclusion: best friends are those who risk it all for things that are important to you, even their lives.



III.

Peter is sure they are brothers.

A couple dozen men are lost in a failed operation, including a man named Giger, a medic Kraglin had been particularly close to. It looked as though the two were of the same race, and shared a special bond because of it. When Kraglin wasn't heeding orders alongside Yondu, he spent his time with Giger, drinking, laughing, exchanging stories of their homeland. Basically, all the things he couldn't do with his captain.

There was no sentiment aboard the ship, no sir. No burials, no eulogy, just a roster of dead men and a pause after each name was called. Kraglin bites his lip with his head hung. He then drags his index and middle finger straight down his face, stopping at the chin.

“A gesture for the fallen.” Yondu breathed to Peter.

The boy could only duck his head in response. He lifts his gaze when he hears Yondu order the men back to their quarters. He motions for Peter to leave, too, and the boy obliges with slow steps. He doesn't get far when he hears Kraglin wail. Curiosity overwhelms him and he lingers in the doorway, peering his head out. Kraglin has burrowed his face into his captain's chest.

“C'mon now Krags,” Yondu whispers, patting his back awkwardly, “ease it up.”

He nods and takes a deep breath to regain his composure. He pulls away, but not before Yondu curves a hand behind his neck and bumps their heads together. “It's a damn shame. He was a good medic. Don't go blamin' yourself, you hear me?”

Peter goes to bed thinking the scenario over. Perhaps best friends will ease your pain, but brothers will share your sorrows.



IV.

Peter now knows they are lovers.

He sleeps in the room beside them, which until then had been kept empty. Peter finds out why.

Kraglin is loud and needy. He's vocal enough for the two of them, but that doesn't stop Yondu from playing his part. Yondu takes charge not only on the ship, but in these types of affairs as well. Peter can hear the mattress squeak and slam against his wall, every thrust followed by a cussing fit. He can hear Kraglin's pleading, Yondu's filthy nothings. Peter is 15 now, and unbeknownst to the others, has learned these sort of things on his own. What he had assumed was brotherly sparring is actually something much more intimate.

When they finish, Kraglin always has to leave first, as if they were still keen on keeping it a secret. Those who don't hear it, can see it, however, because Kraglin stumbles and refuses to sit the entire morning after. Peter isn't the only one who is growing embarrassed of their nightly routines. When the lunch hour falls, gossip about their rowdy business fills the dining hall. Some joke offensively about the two, others just complain about the noise. One crew member says he hasn't slept in 6 months. Peter fears he will share this tragedy.

Eventually, the blooming teenager makes a request for a better bunk and gets his wish soon after. Time passes and the two become more bold with their relationship. Peter can tell Kraglin is fond of not having to keep secrets anymore. Yondu also adjusts, taking a special liking to grossing out the crew when he pulls his first mate in for a sloppy kiss. Peter's not exactly thrilled to see them grope and makeout more, but he admits he's happy they're taking small steps forward.

It's not the kissing, the innuendos, or the physical aspects that changes Peter's mind about their bond. Their need for each other has always been, and though it would take many forms, it would always be.



V.

Peter remembers making one final conclusion on his 28th birthday.

His team was unaware of the tradition, but gladly celebrated him regardless when he explained. He had pulled an all-nighter with the guardians at some unknown bar, getting into a fist fight and charming a few ladies before finally heading back to the Milano. Overall, a great way to end a birthday.

Gamora approached him later that night, with a letter that had his name printed on the front. “For you.”

Peter raised a hand over his chest. “A letter? About your undying love for me? Can you say best birthday ever?”

She rolls her eyes and tosses it at him before exiting. “Get real. It's from your former pirate affiliates.”

Peter makes an attempt to catch it but fails, watching it drop. There's more writing on the back where it's sealed, and Peter stops cold when he crouches above it.

“Peter, consider this a birthday gift or your last cut,” he reads in a soft voice, “enclosed is a photo of your parents before you were born. It took some time to find...” Peter's voice trails off, swallowing hard before he can continue. “...so cherish it.”

Nimble fingers tear at the seal adhesive, pulling out the contents in a desperate second. Blue eyes graze the image and his heart stops.

The photograph is a picture of Yondu in a blond wig and Kraglin in an apron. They grin evilly at the camera, and beneath them are the words “happy birthday, dumbass”.

Peter could be mad, but instead he's snorting, and then full on laughing, because it's actually really clever. It's not even a bad photo to boot. It's just like them, and suddenly he's warmly reminded of his Ravager days. He's made his decision, still howling at the prank.

“What a couple of a-holes.”