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The Guardians were off on another celebratory outing in Contraxia, the one place better than Knowhere for partying and drinking and their favourite drinking drinking hole. Even Drax was having fun talking the ears off the robotic brothel ladies, regaling them with tales of mighty wars he and the Guardians have fought in.
However, one remained on the Milano, and it was Adam Warlock. After the clubbing on Knowhere he partook in, he never wanted to go to a club again. So boisterous with the loud music and people yelling over each other, and the stench of alcohol and sweat was nauseating. Though, he did enjoy the time he spent with Peter in that closet…
Peter. He was missing him. He sat in the seat of one of the Milano’s windows, watching to see if the team was returning. It could've been an hour or so since they left- smaller passages of time were lost on the near-immortal. Regardless, he still felt that longing within him. It was that obsession starting to get to him again, surely. Him and his obsessions.
He forced himself to turn from the window. Keep obsessing over the window and time will only feel slower. Ah, they did leave with a tablet to entertain himself with, which was mostly just watching flerkin videos. So cute, those creatures were. That’ll make the time pass.
As the night poured in, stars filling the skies, the guardians were starting to return back to the Milano. First was Drax, who dropped and passed out on the floor in front of the entry the second he was in, then eventually it was Gamora and Mantis stepping over his body.
“Such jubilant energies!” Mantis commented. “But you seem tense, Gamora.”
“Headache from the drinking… Did you figure out what Peter wanted? He would not stop asking for a ‘twinkie’ or whatever.”
Mantis shook her head, her antennas swaying. “I could not figure out what the twinkie that he desires is.”
Next in was Groot and Rocket, the not-raccoon riding upon the flora colossus’ back, his tail still puffed with adrenaline.
“I totally had him! I coulda beat him if you didn't hold me back! That flarking scutbag deserves that beating!”
Groot sighed, “I am Groot.”
Adam noted the Guardians' numbers as they boarded the Milano. One short. “Where is Quill?” He asked the group.
“Quill? Flark if I know,” Rocket growled.
“Still at the club, I think.” Gamora answered. “Probably trying to hook up with one of the bots like he usually does.”
Adam grew greatly uncomfortable. It wasn't jealousy, he was mostly above that, but rather concerned that his boyfriend was alone and drunk on a planet renowned for its partying, anything could go wrong. Quietly, he left the ship in pursuit of Quill.
“Looks like Goldie Locks is gonna go get his fat butt,” Rocket commented, earning him some drunk giggling from the other guardians.
Adam took a deep breath as he mentally prepared himself to enter the club. He dreaded the noise and crowding, but it was a minor problem when it came to Quill's safety.
He pushed his way past the crowd of partiers, ignoring some of the hostile reactions he’d receive, until he finally reached a corner outside of the party where Peter was passed out over a table.
Adam gripped his shoulder and gave it a shake. “Peter Quill?”
Peter mumbled something incomprehensible, then reached a lazy hand out to his wallet across the table. “Take yer units,” muffled by his face being buried between his arm and the table. What happened to make him start handing out units? That all validated Adam’s concerns of Peter being left alone.
Adam leaned in closer to his ear. “Peter, it's me. I've come to take you back to the Milano.”
Peter finally lifted his head, glazed and half-lidded eyes barely looking into Adam's own glowing eyes. His chin was coated in some disgusting mixture of drool and beer. “A-Adam?... Aw hey buddy.” He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up, then wiped his mouth off the leather of his sleeve. “Flark…”
“Let me take you back to the Milano.”
Peter slurred, “I… I don' think I can walk…” then hung his head. “Can’t feel my body…”
Such a pathetic display poor Peter was like that. Nearly black out drunk, messy, stinky, and probably numb throughout his body. Adam turned the chair to himself so Peter faced him, then swept him up into his arms. People were more willing to move out of the way when they saw someone being carried out, a fairly regular occurrence on Contraxia.
Adam, carrying Peter, walked through the relatively quiet snowfall. This would have been peaceful to him, had it not been that he felt like he was rescuing his boyfriend. Not that it was any trouble to carry Peter, but if it had been a stroll together, hand in hand, he would've preferred that. Better circumstances. But, it was still nice holding Peter so closely as snowflakes dusted over them.
“Your team didn't seem to know of your condition, Quill.”
Peter simply hummed into Adam’s shoulder, mostly to show he was listening.
“What led you to drink yourself to the state?” He asked, tone slightly softer.
“Nothin’, really… Think it was jus’... Nuh… Wait… There was a challenge… Then I jus’ kept goin’, I dunno why…”
It was a better answer than learning that something was troubling him, enough to comfort Adam. “Just the environment. I see.”
Adam boarded the Milano with Peter, and made sure the ship was locked behind them. Definitely no flying tonight considering the state of everybody, which meant they were planet bound and would have to make sure no unwanted guests try to invite themselves in.
They stepped over the unconscious Drax, and went straight for Peter's room, where Adam gently sat him down on his bed.
Peter shed his jacket and lazily dropped it on the floor. “Thanks for getting me… Pro'ly woulda been kicked out again… Too cold for that…”
“I would never allow such a fate to happen to you so long as I am there to prevent it.”
Peter gave him a tired smile. “You're the best twinkie.”
Adam raised a brow. Twinkie? He'd been called all sorts of names, but he had never been called that before. Must be some pet name Peter picked up somewhere. “Relax yourself, Peter. I'm going to get you some water and something to eat to help your condition.”
Peter laid back on the bed, apparently not needing to be told twice. He closed his eyes and began to remember the feeling of being carried by Adam. So much better than waking up in an alley or having the guardians literally drag him back. So warm Adam was, almost radiating a comforting heat like a golden sun. Ah, and those firm muscles that carried him as though he were a bride, it almost felt intimate, especially compared to when the others often just slung him over their shoulders.
Just as he was starting to doze off again, Adam returned to his bedside with a glass of water and a couple pieces of toast on a plate. “This should be enough to help with the alcohol without being too much on your stomach.”
Peter sat back up with a groan, but was barely able to keep himself upright as he wobbled and swayed to try his balance. Seeing the sight, Adam sat next to him on his bed so Peter could lean against him and eat his buttered toast, which is just what Peter did.
“I ‘ppreciate the help, man… I flarkin’ love you…”
Conveying such words of love was difficult for Adam. Once he understood his feelings better and what love was, it wasn't that it was hard to show love or talk about how deeply someone meant to him, but saying those 3 specific words were just difficult. Bad things often happened to those he loved, regardless of if it was platonic, romantic, or familiar. It was almost like a curse to say it out loud.
“... As do I, Peter.”
They sat together in a sweet silence as Peter ate at a snail's pace. Hard to be anything more than sluggish with that much alcohol and exhaustion in his body.
When he finished, Adam had to catch the plate from falling off his lap as Peter lacked the awareness of it. Back on the side table it went, where Adam then grabbed the water. Peter did hold it, but Adam didn't let go, knowing he needed the support, and they carefully tipped it back so Peter could drink until the cup was empty.
“That already feels better,” Peter mumbled. “Um… Are you… Can you, uh… Stay the night? Like… Sleep here with me? I mean… you don't have to, but-”
“Of course I can, Quill. I want to be sure you're okay.” After all, he waited all night to be with him.
Peter's lips finally lifted into a sleepy smile. After being alone in the bar surrounded by strangers that largely ignored him the more drunk he got, it was nice to know he had his boyfriend by his side that he could cuddle up to and fall asleep with.
Adam stood to undress himself, which was mostly just removing his cape and boots and whatever small pieces of armor.
“Do you want your music, Quill?” Adam asked as he stood over Peter's dresser, his hand hovering over the walkman. He looked back to see Peter reaching for his discarded cape, which he succeeded in, and began to cuddle with it like it was a blanket.
“Nah… My head hurts too much for that.”
“You have taken my cape,” Adam observed out loud.
Peter looked at him like a sad puppy. “I just wanna use it as a blanket. It's so soft and cozy!”
Adam gave him a soft smirk as he approached the bed. “You may.”
“Score!”
Peter finally let himself drop back into the bed. With his head on soft pillows rather than a hard bar table, he nearly fell asleep right away. Eyes closed, he felt the bed's weight shift as Adam got into bed with him. Now that Peter had his cape-blanket and the laying warlock in bed with him, he snuggled closer to Adam, head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Just like that, he was right back to sleep, this time not waking up for anything.
Even if he didn't get to spend much time with Peter tonight, and most of the time was spent taking care of him, he was happy to have this; happy to have Peter in his arms, happy to help care for him when he needed it, happy to slow down from the world. “Sleep well, Quill… I… love you…” Maybe if nobody heard it, it wouldn’t be a curse.
Many hours later into what would be the next day on Earth’s schedule, Peter sat next to Gamora on the couch, both of them holding ice packs to their heads to cope with the hangover induced migraines. The Milano was mostly quiet with everybody still relaxing from last night, save for the faint music playing on the cassette player Peter liked to have as background noise and Rocket tinkering with his gadgets.
Gamora turned to Peter. “So… What on Hala is a twinkie?”
Peter looked at her with a raised brow in utter confusion. “Uh… It's a snack we had back home. It's like a golden cake stick with a cream filling. Why?”
“Last night you kept crying out for your ‘twinkie’. We had no idea what you were talking about and when we tried to ask you didn't really answer us.”
Then the memories came back. He remembered sitting at a booth, Mantis and Gamora on one side and him alone on the other. “I want my twinkie… I wish my twinkie was here,” he whined, patting the seat next to him. By the celestials…
“Wait, you said it was gold?” Gamora asked with a grin all too amused.
Both their eyes darted to Adam, who was across the room conversing with Mantis. The pieces were all placed and the puzzle was finished. Adam was the twinkie, the golden snack Peter desired.
Gamora couldn't hold back the laughter. Maybe it was just amusement at how silly Peter was, maybe she was just still slightly drunk. “You're such a dork.”
“I- hey- listen-” Peter couldn't even think of a defense. Instead he could only hide his embarrassed blush behind his ice pack.
“You're such a bad flirt,” She said as she started to calm down. Then she noticed Peter's shyness, and perhaps some guilt started to settle in. Not that the most dangerous woman in the universe felt much mushy feelings like guilt, but Peter still meant something to her. “But it's kind of cute… sometimes.”
“Well it worked on you before, considering we dated.” He relaxed slightly now that she stopped poking fun at him. “Man, is that gonna be fun to explain to him later. I'm just lucky he doesn't tease me as much as you guys do.”
“I'm sure he's heard dumber things anyway.”
Rocket chimed in as he walked past them, apparently overhearing their conversation, “From Quill? Definitely.”
Yet, with whatever teasing they were doing to him, Peter's aching head could only focus on one thing at a time, and at this time it was focused on watching Adam from across the room, thinking back to those previous hours; how he was cared for so tenderly by that space messiah, how nice it felt to be cared for in such a vulnerable state.