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Don't Need No Cure

Summary:

Plantlife, shipboard.

Notes:

Written as the fifth and final installment of #5 fics 5 days PHEWWW! Title from Hooked on a Feeling.

(See the end of the work for more notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

So Peter figures there are two possibilities. It's either because he's getting laid way less regularly now that there are other people on board or because just having Gamora around (and her ass and her hair and the rest of her) is doing a number on his nervous system.

Either way, he hasn't been this horny for this long since he was 14. This is like the fifth morning in a row he's woken up so hard he's jacking off before he even realizes where his hand is. He was dreaming about something ... green? His brain doesn't get any farther than that before he's coming into the tangle of sheets on his mattress. He is really gonna need to wash these soon.

--

When Peter bounds upstairs, Drax is eating breakfast and solemnly watching Rocket tinker with something wiry and complicated.

"Oh, this is really biting my ass," Rocket snarls as the thing in his paws sparks alarmingly. "This is a legitimate ass-biting piece of junk."

"Why would anyone make a machine to do that?" Drax says. Rocket ignores him. "It would be an ineffective weapon," Drax goes on thoughtfully, but his voice cracks somewhere during the second half. He looks surprised and Peter raises an eyebrow. Even Rocket looks up momentarily before snickering slightly and going back to his tinkering.

--

Gamora's up on the bridge, reading a news feed and idly keeping an eye on the controls and man, he never does get tired of the view from up here. She's sprawled sideways in the chair across from New Groot, who's graduated to something the size of a ficus pot.

"Taller than me already," Rocket said last week when they were replanting him, sounding both proud and annoyed.

New Groot sways toward Peter in greeting and Gamora looks up.

"It feels hot," she says instead of good morning. They didn't go in much for social niceties at trained assassin school, he's discovered, but he likes it. It's kind of refreshing. "I think the temperature controls have been fritzing all week."

"I can take a look later," he says, sliding into the empty chair. "Unless Rocket wants to."

"I asked, but he is not in a helpful mood," she says, eyes skimming over the news feed.

"Our dear friend Rocket?!" he says, checking the overnight logs. She huffs out something that's almost a laugh and he catches her eye. She looks like she's smiling at him in spite of herself, which is a look he always likes on her. So much that apparently he can't look away and oh wow, is he staring? But she's staring back so it can't be that bad, it--

"Right!" she says, standing up abruptly. She lifts her hair off her neck, then lets it drop again. "Gotta go, I--" She leaves.

--

The rest of the day goes downhill. Drax's voice cracks twice more and he takes it out on the makeshift punching bag Peter has in the random corner he calls the gym. The poor bag doesn't have a chance: it explodes five minutes in, sending white powder over everything and everyone in the room.

Everyone starts yelling like they've just been waiting for a reason. Peter's on edge in ways he can't explain and Gamora's voice is almost trembling as she lays into them and is Rocket actually snarling?

"I've had just about enough of this!" Peter shouts at them and stomps off to the bridge. The yelling doesn't really stop until he calls back to them.

"Uh. Guys?"

There's pollen all over the deck: thick and yellow all around Groot's pot and in a slightly lighter dusty layer spreading out from there. Groot's head is drooping and he won't meet Peter's eyes.

"I think something's wrong with Groot," Peter says as the others come up behind him.

"What?" says Rocket, stalking forward. "Let me see."

There's a pause as he surveys the scene and then--

"Are you laughing?" Peter says. "This is a time for laughter?"

Rocket turns around, shoulders shaking.

"Our little green friend is growing up," he says. "Looks like Groot has hit puberty." In his pot, Groot winces and hunches away from them a bit more.

"Puberty?" says Gamora, eyes widening. "Wait, is that pollen?" A bunch of things are coming together in Peter's head and she looks the same way.

"This pollen has caused us all to alter our behaviors," Drax announces.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock," Peter says.

"Who is Sherlock?" Drax asks.

--

Groot is banished to the airlock until he matures into a less influential phase of adolescence. Peter gets through a whole night without a wet dream and Gamora goes back to only paying him attention 30% of the time instead of the whopping 45% she'd been giving all week.

"You're growing up, Grooty," Peter catches Rocket saying through the glass. "Good job, kid." Groot sways in the window and smiles, sweet and blank.

Notes:

For the sex pollen kink bingo square!