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“MoonKnight, you alright there bud?”
The distinct voice of Tony Stark cut through Marc’s thoughts. He realized he was still standing outside of Starlord’s door, the man’s Walkman and headphones in hand.
Nice job, mate. Way to beat the crazy allegations. Steven remarked, and Marc could swear he heard Jake faintly chuckling.
Marc looked over his shoulder at the voice. Tony Stark stood—or rather, floated— in place. He was still clad in his obnoxiously red armor, all complete except the mask.
“Oh—yeah. Fine.” MoonKnight answered, an embarrassed flush creeping at the back of his neck. He was suddenly grateful for the mask he always wore. He’d rather die than give this egotistical “ philanthropist ” the satisfaction of knowing he had caught Marc standing outside of Starlord’s door like a creep.
In truth, he didn’t think anybody would be up this late in the Baxter Building. Marc was just planning to give Peter back the headphones the man had so graciously offered to him the night before, but he was struggling to even knock on the door.
“Right… Well, the Flash Gordon you’re looking for is on the Milano. Not in there.” Tony pointed to the door Marc was still idling by, his eyebrow raising in confusion.
Marc just grunted in reply, swiftly making his way out of the hallway. He could feel Tony’s eyes on him as he left but paid it no attention.
Marc almost got lost in the amount of hallways this god-forsaken building had, each one leading to doors he didn’t care to know what was behind them. Before he reached the dock where the ships were being held, a mirror in one of the hallways caught his attention.
Steven could be seen in his usual Colonel Sanders suit, his arms crossed as he watched Marc walk towards the mirror— definitely judging him.
“Why is this so hard, Steven?” Marc groaned, looking down at the Walkman in his hands and thinking back to Quill.
Truthfully, a lot of things had changed the night before. Whenever he thought back to the moment when Quill patched him up, a lot of things confused him. Like when the man’s face flushed a deep shade of red whenever Marc teased him even the slightest bit. Or how tender the moment felt when Peter slipped his headphones on Marc’s head.
Even the stupid “Moon Buddy” nickname Peter had bestowed upon him, Marc started to hate less and less as time went on.
“Oi! Stop thinking so hard—if you can’t even knock on the guy’s door just let me front, I can give it a shot.” Steven pointed an accusatory finger against the mirror, once again breaking Marc’s train of thought.
Marc shook his head. “I’m a big boy, I can do my own shit.”
He couldn’t see it through the mask, but Steven undoubtedly rolled his eyes.
“Mate, that’s exactly what I’m here for. To take care of the stuff that you can’t face.”
Marc let out a heavy sigh, hanging his head to look at the ceiling. He thought for a moment, before looking back at the mirror.
“He hasn’t even met you yet, you’re just gonna freak out his whole team on the ship with your weird… British shit.”
Steven shrugged. “Alright—yeah, but he knows I exist.”
Marc’s eyebrows creased together in thought, but Steven spoke again.
“It’s not like we’re gonna have a heart-to-heart with this guy. We’ll just drop off the headphones and go back to sleep. Easy peasy.”
Marc huffed out in exhaustion, finally making up his mind.
“You’re right. I’ll go take care of it.”
Steven grinned. “That’s the spirit, Marc! Go get 'em, tiger.”
Marc chuckled and shook his head, continuing his walk until he got to where he could see the Milano clearly.
Lights from the Baxter building illuminated the ship clearly in the night sky, and Marc could see the large tree creature standing outside of the ship along with the raccoon. Rocket , he recalled the name.
As Marc got closer to the ship, he suddenly felt very out of place. He tucked the Walkman behind his back, trying to obscure it from view with his cape. He was almost considering turning back until Jake’s voice sounded in his head.
Just do it, pussy.
With that, Marc took a deep inhale and continued walking.
The tree turned his head in Marc’s direction, his eerie green eyes pulsing with energy. He slowly nudged Rocket with his arm, the raccoon deep in his work on the ship.
Marc was now a couple of feet away from the pair, standing still. He wasn’t just going to walk in like he owned the place, Rocket would definitely have something to say about it.
“What is it?” Rocket was still focused on the ship, answering the tree’s gesture with an annoyed voice.
“I am Groot.” The tree spoke calmly, gesturing to MoonKnight.
Oh. Groot was his name. How could he forget?
Rocket whipped his head over to Marc, yanking off his welding mask.
“Oh. The flarkin’ moon lunatic. What do y’need?” Rocket looked at Marc, his beady red eyes silently looking him over.
“I need to speak to Qui—er, Starlord .” Marc corrected, and Rocket’s furry face turned into a look of surprise.
The raccoon quickly shared a look with Groot, before nodding hesitantly at Marc.
“Uh…alright. Just don’t hurt him or somethin’.”
With Rocket’s approval, Groot hit a button on the side of the ship, and the Milano’s door hissed open in compliance.
Trying his best to conceal the Walkman behind his back without it being too obvious, he descended the stairs leading to the ship’s common room and looked around.
Mantis and the golden man stood around a table in the middle of the room, blue holograms popping up above it.
Mantis turned to face MoonKnight as he walked in, her antennae twitching as she looked him over. Expectantly, almost. Marc found it weird how the chick sensed practically everything .
“He’s down the hallway to the door on the left. You can’t miss it.” Mantis spoke, turning her attention back to the holograms. The golden man gave Marc a kind smile, before speaking quietly with the woman beside him.
Marc nodded in reply, but he was pretty sure the pair missed the gesture.
Sure enough, as he walked down the hallway he could see Quill’s door. It was plastered in posters of old movies—some of which Marc recognized, and complete with a nameplate reading “Peter Quill.”
Marc stood outside the door for a couple of seconds, the quiet hum of the ship taunting him in the background.
Finally, he knocked twice on the door, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he waited for Peter to answer. God, why was he so nervous?
“Come in!”
The door hissed open, revealing Peter sitting at a desk with his back turned to the door. Marc stepped in reluctantly, looking around the room.
Peter turned his head over his shoulder, his bright blue eyes widening in surprise as he noticed Marc standing there.
“Marc! Uh—hey dude, what’s up?” Quill scrambled out of his chair, standing a few feet away from the man and smoothing out his shirt.
Marc eyed him for a moment. The man was wearing casual clothes, a simple gray shirt and black sweatpants—the second time he hadn’t seen him in his usual armor. The man’s messy blonde hair fell over the right side of his face, a sheepish grin on his lips as he twitched his fingers anxiously.
“Just wanted to return this,” Marc grumbled, pulling out Peter’s Walkman and headphones from behind his back and handing it to him.
Quill took it from Marc’s hand, smiling widely.
“Aw, thanks! I was starting to worry it wouldn’t make it back to me.” Peter confessed, chuckling as he set the Walkman on his bed.
A sudden feeling of guilt washed over him. Did Peter really think he would never give it back?
“I’m sorry—I tried getting it to you earlier today but I was called in for a mission.”
Peter shook his head and laughed, leaning against the bottom of his bed as he looked at Marc.
“I’m just messing with you. I knew you’d get it back to me.”
Marc nodded, looking off to the side.
“Oh—uh, speaking of the mission, how did it go?”
Ah. There it is—the usual Peter Quill small talk Marc was worried about.
“Fine. Just more vampire shit.”
“Y’know I was wondering—why does Richard’s need you specifically for the whole vampire thing? No offense of course, just—“
“Dracula owes me money,” Marc spoke simply, cutting Peter’s rambling off.
“…Seriously?” Peter asked, his eyebrow shooting up as he looked at the man.
Marc didn’t answer, and the two looked at each other for a moment before Peter broke the silence with an awkward cough.
“Alright, I’ll believe you on that one.” Peter laughed, his cheeks turning redder by the second.
Marc caught himself smiling at Quill’s reaction, before looking down at the floor once again.
“Hey—you wanna see what I'm working on?” Peter started again, sitting back down in his chair.
“Sure,” Marc replied, walking over to sit tentatively at the edge of Peter’s bed.
The blonde twisted in his chair, holding up one of his blasters for Marc to see.
“It broke on me during my last mission. Rocket got really pissed, said it was 'cause of how reckless I was being or something. He told me to fix it on my own.”
Marc huffed out a laugh. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
“So, I took the opportunity to add a few upgrades .” Peter waved jazz hands at the last word, turning his attention back to the gun.
“First—I’ve been trying to take the nozzle and make it out of a different material. It burns out pretty easily and sparks me sometimes if I’m not careful.” Peter continued speaking, a little too fast for Marc’s brain to keep up.
As the man rambled on about the components of the blaster, Marc nodded half heartedly. He felt the tension disperse from his shoulders as Peter talked.
Quill turned back to his desk, setting the blaster down as he kept talking. Marc noticed a faint stain on Peter’s shirt, and he suddenly felt very overdressed. He was still suited up in his armor—nunchucks and all.
Reaching up to unfasten his mask, it dropped in his hands with a quiet hiss. He then pulled his hood down, running a hand through his dark curls as his face was revealed. He heard Khonshu nagging him about ‘privacy’ in his head but paid it no attention.
Peter was already staring at him, now completely unfocused on the gun.
The blonde rested his chin on the backside of his hand, leaning against the back of his chair.
“I gotta say, Marc, you are a really good-looking guy.” Peter smiled sheepishly, his eyes taking in every feature of the man in front of him.
Marc avoided Peter’s eyes, the room suddenly feeling very hot.
“…Thanks.”
Peter hummed in response. “Why do you wear that thing all the time, anyway? Khonshu’s will, or whatever?”
Marc nodded, his dark brown eyes meeting Peter’s gaze.
“Something like that. He’s pretty keen on my privacy. And his too, I guess.”
“Does he object to you showing your face to me?” Peter replied, tilting his head slightly.
Marc scoffed, his lips turning up in a sort of grin. “Of course. But I find it hard to care what the old bird says anymore.”
Peter chuckled, and the two locked eyes again in silence before Marc broke it this time.
“I…also wanted to thank you for last night. Again. I wasn’t expecting that.”
Peter nodded. “Of course, man. I’m just glad you didn’t bleed out.”
Marc opened his mouth to speak, but Peter spoke again.
“You should probably see Mantis, though. Those dental floss stitches won’t hold forever—she could fix it up for you real quick.”
Marc nodded slowly, not particularly looking forward to asking her for healing. Thinking of her bug-like eyes boring into him already creeped him out enough.
“Hey, just promise me the next time that happens—try and find an actual healer, okay? I mean, of course, I’d patch you up again but I’m not really skilled at that sort of thing.” Peter chuckled, getting up from his chair and dropping beside Marc on the bed.
“You did do a pretty good job, though,” Marc grumbled, folding his hands in his lap.
“Wow—a compliment from the fist of Khonshu himself?” Peter laughed in disbelief, shuffling his body back so he rested against the backboard of the bed, his legs overlapping on the mattress while keeping his eyes on the man sitting in front of him.
Marc shrugged, unable to stop a smile from forming on his face.
“And a smile ?” Peter chuckled, teasing him lightheartedly. “Does this mean we’re officially friends, Moon Buddy?”
Marc shrugged once again, giving Peter his best side eye, but his widening smile betrayed the action.
They both laughed at the effort, Marc’s eyes creasing as he felt his cheeks get slightly red at the teasing.
“Don’t push your luck, Peter. You’re already on thin ice with Khonshu.”
Quill leaned forward, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap.
“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that. What about Steven—does he like me, at least?”
Marc thought for a moment, and Steven’s excited voice echoed in his head. Tell him yes! He’s way more fun than you are, Marc.
Marc nodded, chuckling. “He said yeah. Told me you’re way more fun than I am.”
Peter let out a loud laugh, pumping his fist in the air. “Hell yeah! At least I’ve got him on my side.”
Marc turned his head to look at the blonde, and the two made silent eye contact before a knock on Peter’s door halted their conversation.
“Peter? Sorry to interrupt, but we need you out here to look over the next mission.”
The golden man’s voice sounded outside the door, and Quill scrambled to his feet.
Marc took that as his cue to leave, and he started putting his mask back on.
Peter sighed dejectedly as Marc finished suiting up, presumably disappointed about their conversation ending.
“Well, the team needs their captain, right?” Quill stood in front of Marc, reaching down a hand to pull him up—even though it took no effort for the man to get up by himself.
Still, Marc took it with a smile, the warmth of Peter’s hand seeping through his glove.
The two stood close, and Marc could distinctly smell the man’s gaudy cologne even through his mask.
He realized that he didn’t mind it all that much.
And then he noticed that their hands were still connected, and Peter let go with a cough—his face turning the brightest shade of red Marc’s ever seen.
The blonde quickly made his way towards the door, Marc following a few steps behind.
The mechanical door shut behind the pair as they exited the room, and Peter spoke again, noticeably avoiding Marc’s masked gaze.
“It was great talking to you, Moon Buddy. Uhm—feel free to come over any time. The team won’t mind.”
“I’ll think about it,” Marc replied, his voice holding a tinge of humor.
Peter chuckled, before leading him back to the common room of the ship.
Mantis looked at the pair knowingly, before motioning for Peter to come take a look at the table.
“See you later, Marc.” He spoke as MoonKnight made his way towards the exit door of the ship.
Marc looked over his shoulder, giving a small wave to the blonde. Peter returned the action, giving a lopsided grin.
“Have a good night, friend.” The golden man added, and Marc nodded at him before exiting the ship.
Rocket and Groot were still stationed outside of the ship, sparks flying from the raccoon's soldering iron as he worked.
“I am Groot.” The tree said to Marc as he walked along the metal floor back to the Baxter Building.
Rocket let out a loud laugh at his buddy’s comment, turning his head to face MoonKnight.
Marc just looked at the tall tree with confusion, before turning his attention to the raccoon.
“I don’t speak tree. What’d he say?”
Rocket just shook his head, turning back to his work.
“Nothin’, nothin’. You’ll figure it out eventually.” He snickered.
Marc just rolled his eyes, silently hoping the tree wasn't an all-knowing creature like Mantis—and wasn’t aware of the inner turmoil of emotions Marc was currently feeling towards their captain.
.
He totally knows. He heard Jake snide, and Marc just huffed out in annoyance, avoiding every single mirror on the way back to his room.