Pages

by 5bluetriangles

Summary:

Sometimes relationships aren't as simple as friends versus lovers, but what does it matter what the definition is if the feelings are mutual?

Notes:

I put lotsa love into this so I hope everyone enjoys!! <3 I yearn for approval 🥺

“Dude, put your boner away.”

Half asleep, Peter grunted and blearily reached down between himself and Rocket to find it still tucked inside his underwear.

“It is away.”

“I can feel it poking my feet!”

“Then move your feet, man.”

Rocket made a small sort of grumble, but settled back down with a suspicious lack of movement.

Spending the last week or so planetside, The Guardians had been traveling with a research team willing to pay a pretty penny to guarantee their safety in the relatively unexplored terrain of Taulo. The resident colony were busy mining away the moon’s resources, and no working class knew good alcohol better than miners, in Rocket’s opinion. So, once returning to the town and receiving the second half of their payment, the team rented out a couple rooms so they could clean up after days spent in the wilderness. Peter couldn’t really remember how he and Rocket ended up in the same bed, but it wasn’t all that uncommon if they were being honest, at least not after a whole night of downing unknown alcohol and laughing with friends.

The raccoon’s subtle scent had leeched into the covers, and it filled Peter’s nose as he drew in a deep, waking breath, pulling Rocket closer in his sleepy search for the other’s warmth, thick fur tickling his nose when he pressed his face to the top of his head. The morning sun dimly glowed through the curtains, stretching across the bed and over the rise of their bodies. The closeness wasn’t really something they talked about because it was simply something they did, like calling each other names, or trusting one another to have the other’s back. They also didn’t really talk about Peter’s morning wood, other than an acknowledgment that it was there, so he was caught off guard when Rocket shifted in his arms and asked—

“Are you going to take care of it?”

Peter rolled onto his back with a sleepy sound and rubbed an eye with his free hand, left arm still trapped under Rocket’s lean body as he contemplated the idea. An orgasm certainly sounded nice; getting out from under the covers and into the chilly bathroom, not so much. A shower would keep him warm, but he would still have to brave the trip.

“I don’t want to get up yet” he decided, settling back in after giving the stubble along his jaw a scratch, but cracked an eye open as Rocket rolled over too. The raccoon’s dark eyes shone copper in the morning light, and Peter could see the way he seemed to check him out with a curious gaze that lingered where the blanket covered him from the belly down, nose twitching.

“You don’t have to.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“Just do it here.”

“Oh” he said a little dumbly. “Are you gonna watch?”

“I mean…unless you don’t want me to” Rocket replied, and Peter caught the way his ears turned backwards. It was a curved shape, unlike them lying flat or down, and he’d known the raccoon long enough to know it meant he was nervous. Maybe he’d expected a more enthusiastic response. It would be a lie if Peter said he had never thought about Rocket that way, their playful flirting wasn’t really distinguishable from real flirting, after all, but he hadn’t been sure if Rocket had the same proclivity for sex with friends as he did.

“No, no, that’s fine. Sounds like a good time” he said, shooting Rocket a smile. “You’ll have to sit up for a second though.”

“Right” Rocket said upon realizing that Peter’s couldn’t free his arm, and sat up to briefly groom himself as the man stretched the stiffness out of his muscles. His small tongue rasped across his forearm to smooth the fur there, then wet the backs of his hands to wipe across his face and comb his fingers through his whiskers, though he paused as he picked up on the lack of movement next to him and found Peter giving him an uncomfortably soft expression.

“What?” he accused with a squint.

“Nothing,” Peter said airily, a wide smile ruining what little chances he had in convincing Rocket of such a statement, fixing his pillow and leisurely kicking the blanket down around his mid-thigh. Rocket was inclined to rib him in defense of being found cute, the sentiment welcomed or otherwise, but was distracted by the sight of Peter’s cock, even hidden in his underwear the way it was. They’d seen each other naked before, a result of years spent in close courters, but he’d only seen him hard during mornings just like this, sneaking a look when the man wandered to the bathroom. Now he would soon be seeing what it looked like underneath the thin fabric, his desire a mixture of curiosity and physical attraction to his best friend. Maybe second best. It was close.

Peter’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as he dug his heels into the mattress and lifted his hips enough to push his boxers down over the curve of his ass, his cock slapping against his belly. He wasn’t sure if he was any good at putting on a show, but he hoped Rocket would enjoy it. What did Rocket’s penis look like? Would he think his was weird?

“Flark, Quill” Rocket said with a tone of mild incredulity. “It’s the size of my krutaking arm.”

Well, that didn’t seem like a negative reaction.

“It’s pretty average, I think.”

Neither of them really had any frame of reference, but it was pleasingly proportionate to the rest of him, decently long and thick, but far from unwieldy. At least for people his own size. Peter held it at the base, and bead of precum seeped from the broad head as it twitched in anticipation, though his face felt uncharacteristically warm. His sexual partners, whether fleeting or recurring, were never as close to him as Rocket. It was nice, but also a little scary. Being sat next to him specifically with his cock bare to the world alone was foreign and exciting, but the feeling of warm fur against his bicep and the slight sound of his breaths made it real.

“Are you gonna show me how it works?” Rocket prompted.

Peter huffed a small laugh. “Right. Sorry. It only does normal penis things though, I assure you.”

“Aw. And here I thought it would do something cool.”

“Rude,” Peter accused light-heartedly, though he still curled his fingers around the shaft and squeezed more precum from the slit to spread across his palm, letting out a gentle sigh through his nose as his toes flexed beneath the covers. His shirt had ridden up over his belly in his sleep, and slowly, he slipped his free hand down over the rise of it to cup his balls and give them a gentle squeeze. He could hear Rocket subtly sniffing the air, the raccoon’s sensitive nose able to smell the spice of Peter’s sweat, the faintly sweet notes of his musk, and the underlying burn of the alcohol they had last night. It all coated the back of his throat like a naturally occurring ambrosia, and Rocket didn’t know if the way his body reacted to it was because it was Peter, or because they were originally from the same planet. Most keen-nosed species liked to complain about the man’s scent, but it was certainly doing something to Rocket in this sexually charged interaction. Something to file away for later, perhaps, when he wasn’t too busy thinking about what Peter might taste like.

Watching the man’s eyes slip shut as he slowly stroked himself and sucked on his lower lip, Rocket would be remiss not to help out a little, pressing against his side and running a small handpaw up his forearm to just below his shirt sleeve. The way his breath hitched and the hairs along his arm stood up as it twitched slightly in surprise seemed like a good sign.

“You mind if I…?”

Peter’s green eyes glanced something wanting at him. “Do whatever you want, man” he said earnestly, inner thigh flexing as he drew the pad of his thumb just below the crown of his cock.

Rocket couldn’t help but grin.

“Your pupils look blown as fuck, dude.”

“Do they?” Peter chuckled a little breathlessly. “It’s kind of been a while.” Looking down at himself, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted Rocket to know just how much more he was leaking than usual or not.

“Y’know, I’ve always been curious…are these sensitive?” Rocket asked, fingers wandering across Peter’s soft, broad chest to find his left nipple beneath the cotton of his shirt. It pebbled under the tickle of his claws, and the blankets shuffled as the man moved his feet restlessly with an affirmative hum. His shirt smelled like laundry detergent and warmth and Peter, and Rocket leaned in closer to discretely smell along his collar, emboldened by the quiet little moan his closeness elicited.

“You’re really into this, aren’t you?” he whispered, breath hot against Quill’s neck.

Peter shuddered as Rocket’s small tongue stroked over his pulse point, and squeezed his flushed, weeping cock tight in his fist, cursing softly. “How can I not be? You’re really hot, dude.”

Rocket had never received a comment like that before, but he could hear no hint of disingenuity in his friend’s voice. His body certainly couldn’t lie either, precum dripping across his knuckles and his tone raspy with arousal. It felt…good to have someone want him like that. To see him in that way. Unbelievably good. Being desired sexually had never really been on his radar: the few times he’d tried to spark something, he was either drunk and struck out, or it ended up feeling as though he were being used to fuel some sort of humiliation fetish. He had no problem with one’s personal interests, but there was something distinctly shameful in being seen as so undesirable that one found that within itself to be exciting. The confidence his tone previously held now wavered as he asked, “What do you find so hot about me?”

Peter looked down at him, chewing his lip in contemplation, though Rocket could tell it was a search for words, rather than reasons. Peter really did find him attractive…

“Your eyes” was the first feature the man listed, pink in the face. His chest rose with a shivery little breath as he continued. “And your voice. I kind of like when you pick on me and get that air about you, like you’re better than me.”

Rocket could feel his heart pounding, rattling against the metal framework of his cobbled together body, but he put on a smile and gave Quill a suggestive look to hide his nerves. “Oh, you do, do you?”

Eyes clearing somewhat from their haziness, Peter made a rather non-convincing look of annoyance. “When I’m not trying to save everyone’s asses, that is.”

“Yeah right. You get us into just as much trouble as you get us out.”

“That doesn’t negate my point!” Quill laughed.

The tension from mere moments ago had been good, but now that it had dissipated, both of them realized just how heavy it had gotten. Peter was no stranger to being attracted to friends, his love was always freely given, if not always easily admitted out loud. But he wasn’t as used to someone being so eager to receive it. How had they not done this sooner?

“You’re not too bad yourself, yknow. Looks wise” Rocket said a little awkwardly as Peter shifted to get more comfortable and seemed to slow the attention he was giving himself, taking a breather.

“I hope not,” the man grinned. “You’re the one that wanted to watch me jack off.”

“Aw, shut up. I mean it. You’re very…proportionate.” Cringing at how lame his words sounded compared to Peter’s, Rocket attempted to backtrack, “Scut, that sounds stupid. I mean that you…”

Quill shook his head, turning to look at his friend. “No, no, it’s okay. I appreciate it.”

“Seriously? You just said some really nice shit about me and all I can come up with is proportionate?” Rocket sat back away from Peter, crossing his arms. The man dared to look flattered, and it irritated him.

“Come on, we’re different species. We’re gonna like different things about each other. Hell, I’ve been called all sorts of things as compliments.” It was true, there had been some notable times where his partners found beauty in things he couldn’t sense, or in strange parts of his body. “As long as they’re genuine, I’m gracious.”

That did make Rocket feel better. He wasn’t really sure what he liked in other people, but he knew Peter had it. Everything about him seemed to just fit, from the softness surrounding his muscle, to the way his curled brown hair fell, to the shape and size of him. A handsome face with pretty eyes and lips, not something created just to see if it could be. Glancing away, he muttered “Whatever. I’m better with actions than words, anyway.”

Peter couldn’t help the coy smile that crossed his face.

“Well…I think I can work with that.”

“Very smooth, Star-butt” Rocket drawled, though with clear consideration on his features as his gaze followed the hinting nod of Peter’s head towards his cock. “What would what me to do with it…?”

“Whatever you feel comfortable with” Peter shrugged. “You could just keep watching, too.”

It didn’t take long for Rocket to make up his mind and roll to his feet upon the soft mattress. “Y’know what? Fuck it” he grinned, whiskers fanning out as his teeth showed, and Peter wasn’t quite sure whether he was now nervous, or even more excited for whatever Rocket was about to do. The raccoon clambered over one of his thighs to stand between them, and Peter got a lovely view of his backside as he bent to grab the edge of the blanket and toss it down towards his feet. There was a hole cut just below the waistband of his orange briefs to let his tail through, which lifted to balance him, and flashed Peter with the sight of his balls tucked away in the fabric between his lean thighs.

“Wait, stay like that for just a minute” the man said wryly, holding up his hands to mimic framing a photo. “I’m gonna want to remember this.”

Rocket stiffened for only a moment before realizing the intent, and looked over his shoulder as he straightened up, sneering in good humour. “Hope you enjoyed, ‘cause that’s all the fanservice yer getting.” Briefly, he thought about giving Peter a little show, caught up in the thrill of being enjoyed, but then he thought better of it. Maybe some other time.

“What kind of service is this, then?” Peter mused, heart fluttering in his chest at the sight of Rocket settling between his legs. Was this really about to happen?

“I’unno, lip service?” the raccoon mumbled, clearly distracted by what lay before him. It was even bigger up close, and his nostrils flared at the pheromones in the air. Peter was simply holding it by the base now to keep it upright, the length of it hot and twitching and alive. His wasn’t nearly so reactive, or appealing, or tasty looking. There was no way he was going to be able to fit the damn thing anywhere important though.

 Peter started to run his mouth, because he was nervous, and excited, and— “I’m pretty sure lip service means like, talking out of your ass, and not an action. And this definitely seems like an action. I mean—” his words cut off as Rocket’s small hands came to gingerly wrap around the width of his cock, and the raccoon leaned in to hesitantly run the flat of his dexterous tongue along the frenulum and across his slit. It wasn’t the same velvet heat of a mouth, rather a wet stroking tickle in the most sensitive areas of his cock, and his hand quickly reached to cling onto the sheets below him with a surprised groan. Rocket pulled back mere inches, pink tongue licking across his lips, and Peter’s cock dribbled at the sight.

“That okay?” the raccoon asked, and Peter gulped like he’d never had a blow job in his life.

“More than okay.”

“You look real flushed, don’t pop a blood vessel.”

Peter laughed breathlessly, wiping at his hot face like he might be able to scrub the blush away, but grew quiet other than a held-back whine as Rocket stroked him over. His palms were somewhat leathery, but softer than he’d expected, and his blood felt like magma in his veins at the way the raccoon’s brow furrowed in concentration. It occurred to him that he really had no idea what Rocket’s level of experience was, with men or otherwise, and he reached out his hand with the intent to pet, pausing just close enough to make it clear he sought permission. “That feels…really good” he breathed.

Rocket’s amber gaze lifted to his poised hand wearily, and his whiskers twitched. For a moment, Peter thought he wouldn’t accept the offer, but then the raccoon shut his eyes and ducked his head just slightly in an uncharacteristically submissive gesture, ears lowered as he lapped at the head of Peter’s cock. The man rested his palm atop his friend’s small head, and curled his fingers to gently scratch behind the crown of his skull before rubbing his large hand down to cup his cheek. His lips parted with a moan when Rocket opened his mouth to carefully envelope what little he could manage, fangs teasing the skin and thin tongue laving back and forth over the underside. Peter’s cock tasted like skin and salt and something ever so faintly sweet, and Rocket drank in the smell of him as he was barely able to seal his lips around the shaft to suck. He supposed some of the modifications to his body were a benefit to himself as well as others, like the perks that came with the ability to form complex speech, such as sucking his best friend’s cock, difficult and inefficient though it was. Peter certainly didn’t seem to mind, eyes glassy and unfocused, yet still peering down at him with evident desire.

“Don’t push, pull, or hold me down” he said as he withdrew for a proper breath. Peter needed to know the rules of having his hands on him like that.

“I won’t” the man whispered, and Rocket could hear the sincerity in his voice. The promise. Taking him back into his mouth, he did all he could with what he had, stroking the length of him in his paws and suckling the head as his own cock poked out of his sheath. It wouldn’t come all the way out unless he pulled the furry pouch back, but the way his briefs clung wetly to what was exposed was a testament to how much Peter was affecting him. His skin tingled where he touched him, brushing the pad of his thumb along the tender spot under his eye, then the backs of his knuckles across his cheek, and he sighed weakly through his nose at the feeling as he looked up at him with lidded eyes. His heart ached with something sentimental, a queasy feeling he couldn’t quite identify, and a little moan escaped him before he could stop it, the vibration of it making Peter respond in kind. The man’s nostrils flared with his controlled, heavy breaths until he let go of his lower lip, leaving it swollen as he shut his eyes, brow furrowed. His hand lifted to his friend’s ear to hold it between the knuckles of his first two fingers, and the raccoon trailed his paws further down to the heavy globes of his balls sat between his muscular thighs. There, he weighed them each in his hand, rolled them across his palms, and stroked across their surface. “I’m…I’m not sure how much longer I’m gonna last” the man heaved, pupils almost swallowing the green of his eyes entirely as he reopened them.

Rocket’s breaths were wet when he pulled away, the natural moisture on his black nose running down like a bead of condensation where he licked it away in a quick dart of pink from between his lips. “Think I can make you come?” he said, using both hands to stroke Peter’s cock, slow but firm, making the man tremble and drop his hand to clutch the blankets.

Peter nodded weakly. “Please.”

Rocket hadn’t expected him to look or sound so desperate. Honestly, he hadn’t put all that much thought into anything other than if they were compatible or not. Certainly not about how stray curls would stick endearingly to his forehead, or how he would sound whimpering between ragged breaths. He was beautiful, in some tangible way Rocket couldn’t quite describe, watching the man’s jaw drop, his right hand reaching up beside his head to grip the pillow. To his left, Peter’s leg shifted and stretched, restless, and he couldn’t help but take note of how the man couldn’t keep his eyes off him. Every time they squeezed shut in pleasure, they would open only a moment later to find his, needy and longing. Like he was something special. He’d meant to give his cock more attention, to suck him until the last possible moment, but instead his pulse throbbed in his neck as he focused his hands upon the bulbous tip, caught in watching how Peter came apart. His expression pinched and his chest heaved, voice strained and muscles taught as his eyes finally shut and didn’t reopen.

“Rocket” he said. Then, more urgently, “Rocket, I’m gonna—”

Rocket wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, and looked to watch as Peter’s lips curled to bare his teeth with a restrained snarl, his cock beginning to jerk in the raccoon’s paws.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he hissed, slowing his ministrations once the first shot of semen spilled from Peter’s cock and the man curled forward on himself, tugging the hem of his shirt up his belly to avoid more mess. It was pearly and sticky, and in a split second decision, Rocket leaned in to catch some upon his tongue on the next pulse as Peter grunted and gasped above him. It wasn’t bad, though it clung to his whiskers, and he let the rest streak across the swell of Peter’s stomach like drips of melted candlewax, swiping his tongue along his chops.

“Oh fuck. Ohh, fuck” the man groaned, gasping for breath in uneven bursts, his abdomen tight and legs inadvertently squeezing around Rocket as his quiet moans grew relieved and melodic. The sudden rush of oxygen left him lightheaded and his extremities tingling, taking a long minute to crack open his eyes and look down at Rocket, cock twitching feebly at the sight of his cum marking his muzzle. Mumbling something unintelligible, he wiped a hand across his damp, overheated face, and brushed his fingers through his hair before falling back against the pillows loose-limbed and sweaty.

Rocket gently played his fingers along the shrinking length of Peter’s softening cock, curious from the differences it had to his own where it nagged for attention in his slowly dampening briefs before releasing it to groom himself. “That was really hot” he had to say, licking his hands and rubbing them across his face.

“Thanks” Peter panted, cracking an eye open to watch Rocket. “That was great. You were great… Hoo boy…”

“It sure looks like it” Rocket grinned. “You usually put out that much?”

Glancing down at the sticky mess in his belly hair, Peter chuckled. “It’s uh…a bit more than usual, I’ll give you that.”

Peter seemed just a little bit embarrassed, and that made the admittance all the sweeter in Rocket’s mind as he crawled up to flop down next to his friend, the air quiet and calm other than the breaths shared between them. He almost felt tired out himself, after seeing such an explosive display.

“Do you not have a bone in it?” he asked after some time.

“Huh?”

“Your dick. The way it shrivels up makes me think you don’t got one.”

Still recovering, Peter wiped moisture from his brow and let his hand fall to his side sluggishly. “Not the most flattering way of saying it, but yeah.”

“Yeah, you don’t have one?”

“One hundred percent man meat” he joked, glancing at Rocket on his left, then to the bulge in his underwear, where he found a shape he couldn’t recognize. “Do you?”

“Yeah. Keeps it stiff. I dunno what you weird humies have going in there.”

“…Can I see?”

Rocket’s ears turned back.

“It’s weird. You won’t like it.”

Peter frowned. Was he saying that because he was worried what he would think, or because he believed it himself?

“Try me.”

“…Maybe if you butter me up a bit first.”

Rocket had meant to sound more teasing, but his tone mostly just came across as unsure, and Peter was quick to drop his playful demeanor. “Hey,” he said seriously, turning partially onto his side to face Rocket, and taking in the way he barely met his eyes. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You don’t have to show me. I could get in the shower or something if you wanna take care of it yourself. Or we could just cuddle, if you’re into that.”

Rocket screwed up his face like he was frustrated, teeth bared as he dropped his hands on the bed in defeat, staring at the wall across from them. His voice was contrastingly quiet. “I want to do it with you. I just,” he closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s one of the few things that didn’t get altered, so, it shouldn’t seem so weird. It should feel like mine, right? Flark.”

Peter glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. The ejaculate on his stomach was cold, now.

“I don’t know, man. It’s not like you have much control over that.”

“That’s the problem, I…ugh” Rocket pressed a palm against his eye until he saw static. “I don’t want to get into this, not now.”

“Okay…well, what do you wanna do?”

Rocket started, then stopped, looking sidelong at Peter and those awful wet puppy eyes. What the hell did he want? He wanted Quill’s warm hands on him, and that smitten voice telling him what he liked about him. He wanted to know for certain that he wasn’t going to be repulsed by what was starting to slip back into his sheath. “I uhm,” he blinked. “I want you to touch me, I think.”

Peter hummed softly, letting his eyes wander. “You’d let me?”

“Same rules as before.”

“Okay. Okay yeah, I can do that. Just tell me if you don’t like anything” he said, bending to retrieve his discarded underwear down by his feet and use them to wipe himself clean. “Go ahead and get comfy, I’m gonna find out what you like.”

Rocket’s heart seemed to throb at the look Peter gave him, both determined and hopeful, and he nodded, scooting down to lie more flat with only his head and shoulders resting upon the pillow. He floundered with his hands for a moment before picking at his fingers atop his belly, unsure what to do with them as Peter lied back down next to him, propped up by his elbow. His curls fell over his forehead, and he smiled almost shyly as his hand creeped over to stroke along Rocket’s shin up to his knee, where it easily engulfed the entirety of it. It was impossible to forget their difference in size: it affected every aspect of Rocket’s life from using a toilet to being taken seriously, but sometimes he could forget just how big Peter was compared to him. Being as close as this morning was a bit of eye opener. It hadn’t mattered much when they weren’t trying to fit their bodies together, at least not any more than it did with anyone else. Was Peter disappointed that he was too small for penetration? Or would he even be interested in doing that with him, anyway?

“Your fur is so soft here” Peter commented as he gently kneaded his inner thigh. “It’s more wiry everywhere else… Except maybe…”

Rocket shivered at the ticklish sensation of Quill’s fingers running up the expanse of his belly before he stroked back down it with the flat of his hand, only to pause as a finger brushed something under the fur.

“What’s this?” the man asked, circling the pad around the tiny nub. It was almost like—

“It’s a nipple, flarknards.”

“Oh” he said curiously, and maybe a little too brightly. “Are yours sensitive too?”

“Well…” Rocket chewed his lip as Peter teased a fingernail over his lowest left nipple before gently pinching it between his finger and thumb. “I never really thought so, but you seem to be proving me wrong, there.”

“How many do you have?” Peter couldn’t help but ask as he found another just a couple inches above the first.

“Six.”

“That’s so cool.”

“Seriously?” Rocket questioned, stomach flinching under the tickle of Peter’s fingers running along his left row of nipples, leaving a pleasing tingle in their wake.

“Of course. That’s four more spots to tease you” Peter smiled slyly, watching the way Rocket squirmed as he toyed his fingertips between his ribs. Everything was something to remember, the way Rocket breathed, how he felt against Peter’s skin, what made his lungs squeeze with a sound that wanted to escape. Peter had thought that being covered in fur might affect one’s sensitivity, but Rocket seemed to react to anything he did, even if only with a twitch or a whisper. Gently, he scribbled the tips of his fingers over the raccoon’s stomach, and grinned as Rocket twisted in place and reflexively pressed his legs together, clawed hands coming to grab his wrist.

“What are you doing?” he asked, though his annoyance didn’t sound all that serious.

“Just wanted to see what would happen. You ticklish?”

“You’d better think twice before you abuse it.”

Peter chuckled, and saw the faintest grin on Rocket’s snout as he took one of his hands in his own, able to hold it with only two fingers and his thumb. It seemed so delicate despite the power he knew was held in those tiny bones, and weathered, yet not calloused. His black claws glinted dimly in the light as he curled his fingers around Peter’s, and the man watched the subtle flex of his tendons. Rocket’s body was mostly a mystery to him, and he couldn’t begin to imagine the sheer amount of modification required to hold its shape, but he knew that he found him beautiful. Was it wrong to think that, when he hadn’t consented to be made that way? It was Rocket’s body, not his creator’s…but he still wasn’t really sure. It seemed the wrong time to ask.

“You look healthier” he said instead.

Rocket didn’t immediately answer, tracing his claws along the lines of his palm.

“As opposed to when I first met you. I mean, you have for a while, but I never really appreciated it until now.”

“How do you mean?” the raccoon asked, letting go of Peter’s hand as he returned it to his stomach.

“You have more weight on you. Your eyes are brighter, your fur is glossy…” the man listed, slowly reaching towards Rocket’s waistband where he rubbed along the tender spot between the bulge in his underwear and his thigh, listening to the wheezed out sound the touch elicited. “You’ve still got that rugged look obviously, but, I dunno…you just look more settled.”

“Thanks, I think.”

Rocket’s voice was strained, and Peter’s own breath shivered at just how close he was to the stiff, curved shape trapped in his friend’s briefs.

“You know…I think your friend there is feeling a little left out… Should we let him join?”

Rocket rolled his eyes fondly, hesitantly reaching for the waistband. “Yeah, okay.”

Peter drew his hand back, watching Rocket pause with his thumbs caught in the elastic, ears turned back and nose quivering when he glanced at his face. Just as he was about to check in, the raccoon bent to push the orange fabric down past his knees and hesitatingly laid back against the pillow with an anxious rush of air. There, in the revealed expanse, lay his pink cock still partially hidden away, slender and wet. It was seemingly hooked on the end, with a pair of soft furry balls hanging just below his sheath, and Peter loved it right away, simply because it was Rocket’s.

“Oh” he said.

“Oh?”

“It’s interesting. I think I like it.”

“It’s too small” Rocket lamented.

“That doesn’t matter, it’s about the motion of the ocean, dude.”

“…Please tell me nobody says that.”

Peter tilted his head to the side, a little shy, a little apologetic. “I heard it in a song.” Idly brushing the backs of his knuckles against Rocket’s side, he leaned close to quietly ask “Can I touch it?”

Rocket seemed surprised.

“You don’t think it’s gross?” he asked, voice almost a whisper.

“It’s a little strange,” Peter admit. “But I’ve done weirder with weirder.” If he could have sex with non-organics, and aliens that just wanted him to tell them about his digestive tract, and women that tried to kill him after the fact because he didn’t play close enough attention to the cultural report, then he could definitely have sex with his closest friend, even if their anatomy didn’t really line up. So, easing his palm down his body until the tips of fingers nearly met his sheath, he caught Rocket’s gaze and tried to ignore the way his heart pounded as he leveled with him. “I’m not gonna do anything you tell me not to, but I would really, really like to touch it.”

Rocket’s dark eyes glinted amber even in the grey morning light coming through the thin curtains, their faces close enough to taste each other’s breath, and Peter would kiss him if he wasn’t so uncertain on what the outcome would be. He didn’t miss the way the raccoon’s attention briefly dropped to his lips.

“Just…touch it through my sheath. It’s sensitive.”

Peter swallowed, tone hinting at nervous as he nodded. “Okay…like this?” he asked, taking the soft skin between his fingers and watching the strain of Rocket’s muscles as his legs threatened to squeeze closed at the feeling. He could feel how stiff the bone made his cock, and gently stroked him through his sheath like he was directed, raising his eyebrows slightly when he pulled the skin back and the full length of him extended out. It was still only a few inches, but it was longer than he’d first thought, the hooked curve of it alien and exciting, and he watched how Rocket’s muscles jumped and twitched. He really was sensitive…

“Yeah, that’s—” the raccoon grunted, claws digging into the sheets. “Like that.” He tilted his head back to hit the pillow, mouth open in a silent moan as Peter tentatively explored how best to please him, squeezing the shaft of bone between his fingers. His strokes were a little choppy, inexperienced with him, but then, that went both ways, didn’t it. Was it really worth telling Peter that he was the first person to touch this part of him other than himself? Probably not. He was certainly doing a good job, though, if his groaning breaths were anything to go by.

“You look so good like this” Peter murmured, torn between watching his body or his face, both equally enticing. “Big tough man taken down from just a few strokes of my fingers.”

His words made Rocket pause, his held-back grunts turning to ragged but even breaths. He’d never been called a man before. Was that really how Peter saw him? Brow furrowed, he curled his lip as a surprised, weak sound escaped him at Peter’s thumb accidently brushing over the grooved tip of his cock through the opening of his sheath, making his toes curl.

“So noisy, too. I can tell you’re trying not to be.”

Part of him wanted to tell Quill to knock it off with the dirty talk, but he couldn’t be entirely sure where the shame and flattery stopped and started. Maybe that was the point. Either way, Peter’s voice in his ear and the faint smell of his aftershave was throwing what little control he had over himself out the window. The man had looked wrecked when their roles were reversed, but he hadn’t been squirming and whimpering like a newborn pup— Well, okay, maybe a little. Not so soon, though. He covered his face with a hand, turning slightly into Quill’s side only for him to let go of him and shift away. The sharp twinge of loss quickly fled as he realized the purpose, feeling Peter sit back to free up his left arm and wrap it around his small body, tugging him close and taking his cock in that hand, leaving the right free to explore. It roamed over his belly again, toying with his nipples, and he clawed at Peter’s bicep pressed against his left shoulder, breaths broken and tinged with whines.

“Can I touch here?” the man asked as he gingerly cupped Rocket’s balls and stroked his thumb along the underside of his sheath, breath hitching at the way he dug his heels into the bed.

“Yes” the raccoon gulped.

“Do you like it?”

Rocket hit his head back against Peter’s soft, solid chest to moan and pant before he could properly give the affirmative, his blood rushing so hot in his veins that he wasn’t entirely sure if he was going to be sick or not. His toes curled, and he was certain his claws were digging into Peter’s skin as he clung onto him like he just couldn’t help himself. The man didn’t know his favourite pace or spots, but the novelty of someone else touching him, especially Peter, and the sheer amount of territory he could cover was turning him into an absolute mess. He hadn’t expected to be so…embarrassed, and he certainly hadn’t expected Peter to be able to twist that into something pleasurable. He didn’t comment on the way he squirmed and hid his face, but he didn’t stop, either. He didn’t want him to stop.

Giving Rocket’s balls a gentle parting squeeze, Peter slowly crept lower, brushing his fingertips down his taint. “What about here…?” he murmured, barely wincing at how Rocket’s claws drew thin red stripes across his skin as his muscles tightened in surprise, legs starting to close before he halted them. Here, the wiry fur of his tail tickled the backs of Peter’s knuckles, and he was so close to his target he could feel the way it twitched, uncertain at the presence of a finger. Rocket’s breaths stuttered into halted bursts, and he was just about to retreat on his own when the raccoon spoke.

“I…I don’t think I’m ready to have anything in there” he said.

Tilting his chin down to press a quick kiss to the top of Rocket’s head right between his ears, Peter kept his voice low as let go of his friend’s sheath to rub his inner thigh. “Okay” he promised, letting the offending hand wander back up to the raccoon’s balls where he encircled both them and Rocket’s cock together, feeling the way he relaxed into him. “Would you wanna top, then? If you were interested in doing something like this again, obviously.”

Rocket seemed a little surprised.

“You’ve had stuff up your ass?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh yeah” Peter boasted, stroking Rocket firm but slow. “Lots of times.”

“And you’d…want me up there?” the raccoon asked weakly, throat tight as he drew his knees up and resisted the urge to thrust into Peter’s hand. He thought of the heat of another’s body wrapped around him, of Peter stretched out, flushed and sweaty. The taste of him. He only sweat through his paws, and the difference was a novelty that prickled his nose and tongue with flavour.

“Of course” Peter said easily, working over the hooked end of Roket’s cock by letting it slip in and out of the sheath between his fingers. “This curve here? I bet it would be perfect at hitting my prostate.”

Rocket hadn’t even thought of that, and a soft moan escaped his lips at the idea. What sounds would Peter make, then? He could imagine the needy, melodic tones the man had let out when he’d sucked him off, how those glassy eyes focused on him. Maybe he would bend over and let him wrap his arms around his waist to drive into him from behind, press his face against his back. The image brought precum leaking from his cock to run across Peter’s fingers, and the man made a quiet sort of rumble of arousal at the sight.

“Fuck, that’s hot. You like that idea?”

Clutching at the man’s arm, Rocket made an embarrassing mewl, digging his heels into the mattress and fucking his cock through the man’s grip with a couple shaky little thrusts as he tilted his head back in pleasure.

“Yes” he panted. “Scut.”

“I like it too… But you know what else I like?” Peter whispered conspiratorially.

“What?”

“That I can still get to yours…right through here” he said, free hand finding the sensitive place between Rocket’s balls and asshole to press two fingers there and rub in slow, firm circles, rewarded with the sight of his friend arching his back and the feeling of blunt claws digging into his flesh as the raccoon groaned in surprised pleasure.

“Oh. Oh flark, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m gonna milk you for what you’re worth” Peter said with a grin.

“Oh, god.”

Chuckling, the man squeezed Rocket slightly in his arms as he worked him with both hands. “Since when do you say god? Did you pick that up from me?”

Rocket growled, eyes shut tight as his mouth dropped open to release a few ragged breaths. “I don’t know, and I—I really don’t care right now.”

“Feels good?” Peter questioned.

Whining, Rocket nodded, feet squirming against the blankets as he tossed his head and nosed under the man’s jaw where he pleaded him not to stop. His stomach twisted at the tender way he held him and tilted his head to murmur in his ear, the words muddling together under the haze of pleasure lighting up his nerves. It centered his hazy attention to Peter’s strong hands rubbing and stroking him, and his hot breath brushing the side of his face, the pressure on his prostate making his cock ache with sensitivity where it throbbed lightly with his heartbeat. He’d never known a simple press of fingers could make him leak like he was, teetering close to the edge but his cock not seeming quite able to get the memo. It was an odd but ultimately fantastic feeling even if it left him frazzled and gasping, almost as though the impending orgasm wasn’t coming from his cock but rather the deep-seated nerves beneath his perinium themselves. He was muttering something, that much he was vaguely aware of.

“Come on, Rocky” Peter encouraged, and the childish nickname gave him some sort of funny feeling right in the center of his chest, not far from his heart. “I can tell you’re getting close, just relax.”

Right, Peter had experience with this sort of thing, didn’t he? Relaxing was a lot easier said than done though, Rocket was dismayed to find. Every time he relaxed enough to feel the tightness of his balls drawing up in preparation to shoot off, his muscles would reactively tense and drive away his orgasm, leaving a teasing buzz of sensation. The frustration held him back, gulping down desperate breaths. “I—I can’t” he whimpered, twisting to hide his face in the crease of Peter’s armpit as best he could.

“Shh,” the man murmured, easing up on his prostate and squeezing his sheath tighter. “I’ve gotcha.”

The gasp of relief brought a prickling wetness to Rocket’s eyes, raising fresh claw marks as he grasped at Peter for a secure hold. “Yes, yes” he wheedled, eyes squinting open at how the mounting pleasure changed trajectory back into his cock and his legs kicked out, feet twisting in the blankets. He growled and barred his teeth, pounding heart fading into the background as the pleasure turned bright and electric and he shut his eyes tight once again, voice breaking when he crossed the point of no return. Peter caught on, and suddenly he was digging his fingertips into his prostate firmer than before, body too far gone to inadvertently chase the climax of the man’s efforts away. The cry it elicited would be shameful if it wasn’t so raw, Rocket’s claws digging into Peter’s skin and finally managing to bring blood welling to the surface as the man said something soft in his ear that made him buck his hips. He felt held, not restrained, when Quill’s hands chased after him instead of holding him down. It seemed he’d remembered his rule.

“Fuck,” Peter heaved, wincing slightly at Rocket’s claws but watching with rapt attention as the raccoon came apart beneath his hands. His ejaculate wasn’t thick like his, instead watery and copious as it poured from his cock like a jet in a long pulsing burst that soaked into Rocket’s fur, his stilted silence broken by a single sob. Peter’s jaw clenched, but he groaned in pleasure all the same as the raccoon’s teeth sunk into his bicep to muffle his cries. The bite wasn’t deep, but the stinging ache was almost enough to distract his from the overly hot seed spilling down his knuckles as the stream of cum slowed to a stop. Almost.

Rocket whimpered with every haggard gasp for air against Peter’s skin, the faint taste of copper drawing saliva into his dry mouth. He didn’t dare open his eyes, even as Quill’s fingers slowed to a stop and the phantom sensation of his strokes thrummed along his length. He’d never cum that hard in his life, he was certain of it. Muscle twitched in his jaws, and he slowly let up, panting wet heat along the marred skin as it clung to his teeth, and he pressed the side of his triangular face into the meat of Peter’s arm in hopes he would understand the apology for what it was while couldn’t find the strength to speak. The man didn’t say anything, but his hands gently stroked along his body, along his groin and thigh.

“You okay?” Peter asked softly once Rocket’s laboured breaths started to slow to something reasonable.

The raccoon eased, licking his lips, then his nose, and relaxed into Peter’s chest.

“Yeah. I think so. Sorry…”

“For what? That was flarking awesome.”

Rocket huffed a little laugh, mind light and uncharacteristically carefree as Peter eased him fully on top of him, stretched out atop his soft belly where his outer thigh was able to feel the subtle hardness of his cock pressing against him. He didn’t think the man was going to be ready to again any time soon, but the idea that he’d gotten him hard again made his stomach twist, pleasantly so.

“I didn’t know I was gonna bite. Would have been good to give you a heads up. Like, hey, you might want to check if your vaccines are up to date before making me cum my brains out.”

Peter smiled at the raccoon’s sleepy tone, scratching at his furry ruff as he practically cuddled into him. “Maybe so, but I had a pretty good idea of what I was getting into. Some disinfectant and I’ll be good to go.”

“Y’mean you aren’t gonna go to medbay? Get it healed up?” Rocket questioned.

“Why should I? I want to remember this.”

Peter’s heart beating steadily beside his ear, Rocket gazed at the slowly purpling mark upon the man’s arm, four small gashes of his canines and several indents of premolars. Something about it gave him a sort of fuzzy feeling. A sense of possession, though he knew it was unwarranted.

“We should have done this sooner” he commented.

“Well, there’s plenty of things we can do to make up for lost time.”

“Is that a proposition?”

“Oh, it most certainly is” Peter said coyly. “You interested?”

“Definitely” Rocket laughed.

As they settled into comfortable silence, Peter could feel something welling up inside his lungs like a held breath, a tender ache that wasn’t wholly unfamiliar when it came to Rocket, nor uncommon. It was something he had been content not to pursue, but here and now, with the raccoon nestled in his arms, he wasn’t so sure he should let it go. Perhaps it was selfish, or maybe just reckless, but the thoughts burned in his mind as he carded his fingers through Rocket’s fur, past the coarser hairs to the soft undercoat beneath. How many years had he spent falling for his best friend? He’d never really bothered to hide it, and Rocket had never pushed it away. If this was the right move…what then? He wasn’t so sure he even wanted anything to change, just more moments like these. More touches.

“Hey…” he began, voice creaking slightly. Rocket’s ears twitched, tickling his fingers. “Could I kiss you…?”

Rocket didn’t immediately reply, and he could hear the hesitance tinging his voice as he eventually said, “My mouth ain’t really made for that, Pete…I don’t know if I can.”

Peter would admit that he didn’t really know the logistics of how their lips would fit together, but Rocket’s whiskers tickled along his cheek as he slowly pulled back to look at him, amber eyes tracing the lines of his face. He looked nervous, and wanting, and Peter really, really wanted to kiss him. Gently, he traced the side of his snout with his thumb, smoothing down his whiskers and curling his knuckles beneath his chin. “Could we try anyway?” he whispered, throat tight as their faint breaths mingled in the small space between them.

Rocket was the first to inch hesitantly closer, their lips brushing as their mismatched noses knocked together, and Peter tilted his head to the side, sliding his hands over his friend’s tense body to hold him as a rushed, anxious wheeze blew across his cheek. It was awkward and stilted at first, Peter’s mustache prickling Rocket’s sensitive nose and the raccoon’s lips trying to find the right way to fit against his, but eventually they found a rhythm after a few pauses and whispers, grasping softly at one another and swallowing each other’s sounds. It wasn’t very practiced, or pretty, but Peter’s breath shook in excitement as a sharp tooth snagged his lip and a small hand lifted to hold his face. The raccoon’s tongue was thin and delicate where his was fat and clumsy, coming together in a momentary fumble, and Peter only pulled him deeper into the embrace, lost in the sensation of his fur and the taste of his breath, the buzz of his soft sounds against his lips. There wasn’t enough air or time to feel it all, but he found no rush in the experience, slowly rolling over to cover Rocket’s body with his own, switching places, and the pillow that found itself beneath the raccoon’s head hissed slightly at the new weight. Claws felt their way up his arms and into his hair, and his tongue ran along several jagged teeth as he tried to map the unfamiliar territory of Rocket’s mouth, pressing their bodies together anywhere he could. His was sticky, and a little bit cold, but there was a desperate smolder in his belly that Rocket stoked brighter and hotter with every sigh and lick into his mouth.

By the time the oxygen ran low enough for them to properly part, glassy eyed and panting, Rocket was sure that something was different about that kiss than the other things they’d done that morning. He’d always felt strongly about Quill, even if he wasn’t entirely sure in what way, and he’d trusted the man not to let sex complicate their relationship; he hadn’t thought that maybe he would. A small, scared part of him tried to say that this had been a mistake, that things were going to become complicated now, but the heavy warmth of Peter’s body atop him helped him to push the thoughts away.

“That…didn’t feel all that platonic” he murmured, like speaking too loud might reveal the burning ache welling up in his stomach.

“No…” Peter breathed, pupils blown wide, tongue running across his lower lip. “It didn’t.”

Rocket looked away, brow furrowing slightly.

“…Should we talk about that?”

Shifting his weight on his elbows, Peter mirrored his friend’s sideways glance to ease some of the tension of being so close, and realized that he really needed a bit more time to think before that discussion. It would probably be a bad idea to make any decisions solely based on how good this morning had felt. Although that was certainly a factor…

“Can we get something to eat, first?”

Rocket chuckled softly, head swimming with relief. He had no idea how to talk to Peter about those kinds of feelings; he wasn’t sure he’d fully processed them yet himself. Maybe some food would clear things up in his head.

“Good idea. I can’t remember if we tried those noodles last night or not” he said as Peter rolled away to search for his underwear, rubbing his head. “I’d meant to.”

“Well, we can grab some for the others while we’re there” Peter offered, turning to hand Rocket his discarded pair of orange briefs after discovering the sticky state of his own and abandoning them at the foot of the bed. They looked so small in his hand. “I’m sure Gamora would be happy to get some extra sleep.”

“What about Drax?” Rocket questioned dryly, and Peter’s smile turned sheepish. The kylosian had probably been up before the sun, sitting in wait for his friends to grow hungry enough to emerge from their own rented rooms. Groot kind of did his own thing, but Rocket didn’t want to leave him out, either, unless—

“Okay, he probably won’t, but I thought we could eat together. Just you and me.”

Underwear clasped in his paws, Rocket felt something warm and wanting yawn open in his belly at the hopeful look Peter gave him, and he struggled to hide the shy happiness that crossed his face.

“Yeah, okay.”

Peter’s boyish smile grew as he crawled back to Rocket’s side and flopped down, looking up at him with a dopey, starstruck expression that Rocket now turned in his mind under a different light. He’d seen it time and again. Whenever they first made eye contact after an impressive battle. Any time he would attempt to explain the intricacies of his latest passion project. Late at night when it was just them and the expanse of space beyond the cockpit window, easygoing classics playing softly over the speakers. Lying back down and turning onto his side to study the man’s face with his head rested in the crook of his arm, he felt a sort of protective responsibility; different than the kind that led him to double checking Peter’s gear, or fretting whenever he did something stupid. This was more intimate, more selfish. Something that wanted the reassurance that Peter’s affection would continue to be his to hold, something that needed to protect his loving smile and open heart.

All these feelings were bubbling up so fast…had he been repressing them before? He and Peter had been committed to each other for years, just never in that way. Would Peter want that? Did they even need that? What did it matter how they defined it, as long as they were on the same page?

As he reached out to stroke a warm, heavy hand across Rocket’s angular face and thumb his twitching ear, it was as if Peter could sense the raccoon’s anxious self-discoveries. “You look like your thoughts are pretty loud,” he said, and Rocket hummed softly in affirmation as he timidly felt along Peter’s chest, right over his heart.

“They are.”

Rocket didn’t go any deeper, and Peter didn’t press. There was time for that later. For now, there were slow, tentative touches to be had, Peter’s fingers easily circling around Rocket’s bicep to feel the wiry muscle there as the raccoon trailed his claws through the scratchy stubble on his face.

“I really like you, you know” Peter admit in a hushed voice, and Rocket blessed him with a small smile and a short, fond rush of air through his nose.

“I know.”

They lay there a while longer, the approaching tasks of getting cleaned up and starting the day after so much had already happened growing subtly more urgent as the minutes ticked on, but it didn’t feel as though the moment of closeness was fleeting. No, they had a date over noodles that would probably sour their appetites if they bothered to ask what they were made of, a team of friends to regroup with, and a ship to restock before they took off to find their next odd job.

Maybe they had downgraded from “saving the entire galaxy” business, but it meant they had the time to look after each other, and even if they were a little unstable emotionally, they were as close as ever.

Rocket smiled to himself as he and Peter eventually crawled out of bed, already chattering about what they all had to get done if they were going to get back into space at a reasonable time, and he couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky.

It really was good to have friends.