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bevioletskies · 7 years

Text

20 questions [20/20]

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

fandom: avengers academy/marvel cinematic universe

summary: wasp has a new competition in store for the students of avengers academy, and there’s money involved. so obviously, peter and gamora have to pretend to be a couple in order to win. wait, what?

chapter preview: the guardians attend prom, gamora makes up her mind, and peter tells her what he’s been hiding.

word count: 9842 | total word count: 118k

a/n: i don’t wanna spoil how this chapter ends, so let’s just say warning for things going down.

ao3 | previously | next | masterpost

There was something almost too intimate about waking up on Friday morning when Gamora realized Peter’s face was half-buried into her neck, the fading smell of his cologne and shampoo wafting into her face. They hadn’t shared a bed in two weeks, and given their recent...understandings, it felt incredibly close to something they both wanted, but couldn’t have.

It was like her entire life, Gamora had been denied the pleasure of company, of companionship and connections, raised to see other beings as targets and obstacles, only to find true friends, honest and real love of the familial and romantic sense, in the strangest of places. She had found it wasn’t always about having something to fight for, but someone - several someones, in fact. After all, who would have known that she would find kinship with this odd, ridiculous, impulsive boy with quick feet and a quicker mouth, with stars in his eyes and a song in his heart? How irritating he had been at the beginning, how irritating he could be even now, and yet...

The moment was ruined when Peter sneezed into her hair. Oh well, she couldn’t have it all.

Wincing in slight disgust, Gamora rolled Peter over towards the wall and got up, stretching. She didn’t have to check her phone to know what her schedule was like today - in the morning, a quick sparring session with Nebula, in the early afternoon, preparation at Van Dyne’s, and then by nightfall, prom.

“You heading to meet Nebula now?” She turned around to see a sleepy, bed-headed Peter giving her a drowsy grin. He looked adorably rumpled, though Gamora was still half-annoyed that he had sneezed on her.

She hummed in response. “I’ll see you tonight.” He crooked a finger at her, indicating he wanted her to come closer. When she did, he cupped her jaw so he could kiss her on the cheek, apparently the one gesture they allowed themselves to share in private, passably platonic despite its other implications. “Go brush your teeth, your breath smells awful.”

Gamora arrived at the gym to find Nebula already there, having cleared some mat space quite easily, what with everyone being somewhat terrified of her. “Please tell me you’ve decided,” Nebula said in lieu of an actual greeting.

“Saturday,” she replied, beginning to work on wrapping her wrists.

“So you’re allowing Quill to make your decision for you. Figures,” Nebula muttered, turning away from her.

Gamora frowned. “No, it’s not...this isn’t about Peter, though I’ll admit he plays a part in my decision. It’s him and everyone else. What saves the most people, us leaving or us staying behind?”

“We wait any longer, and there will be no room for decision-making whatsoever.” Nebula paced around her, looking at her sister the way a predator observed its prey. “We stay here, and then what happens? We wait ‘til he comes for us?”

“And then we help everyone prepare,” Gamora answered, glancing over at the others in the gym. It was still relatively early, so most students were probably just getting breakfast if not still sleeping, but there were a handful of people around, working diligently on the various exercise machines, unaware of their plight.

“An army of Terrans will be no more than mere fleas to our father,” Nebula hissed.

“STOP - stop calling him our father,” Gamora snapped, her fingernails digging into her palms. “He is no father to either of us. He hurt us, Nebula. Over, and over, and over again, you said it yourself. He deserves nothing but our derision, and our rage. Do him no favours by acting as if he were any sort of parental figure to anyone.” She straightened up, her eyes hard. “Besides, it won’t just be Terrans. There are people of other kinds here, like us, and those who can reach out beyond the stars to form armies of another kind. My only deciding factor at this point is whether we need to involve anyone else at all.”

Nebula’s hands came to rest on her hips, tapping out a rhythm in consideration. “It appears that we’ve become somewhat altruistic since we distanced ourselves from him. You more than me, obviously. I suppose in the case of killing our - in the case of killing Thanos, it’s not such a bad thing after all, if it will allow us to get the job done at last.”

Gamora relaxed, stepping closer to Nebula. “That’s the spirit,” she said, smirking. “Now, let us fight like old times.”

______

While the other Guardians were spending their morning outside, soaking in the last bits of sunshine before the summer was over, Peter and Mantis were curled up on the couch together, watching Knight Rider. Like Gamora, Mantis didn’t really understand the talking car, either, but she was pleased to finally spend some quality time with Peter.

“You have been so busy,” she commented. “I hope whatever it was you were doing, it was not...bad.”

“It really isn’t,” Peter protested. “Why does everyone seem to think I’m up to something terrible?”

“We mean no offense, Peter, you just make some poor decisions sometimes,” Mantis said sympathetically, squeezing his arm. “It’s okay. I know you mean well.”

He groaned in mock offense before changing the subject, turning to look at her. “You excited for prom?”

“Yes. I am determined to make Drax dance with me at least once,” she replied. “It is nice, being here on Terra with other people.”

“You must’ve been so lonely, living with...him,” Peter said quietly. “Did he ever do anything fun with you? Play catch, or something?”

Mantis picked at her fingernails, refusing to meet Peter’s gaze. Her antennae drooped slightly, and Peter felt guilty at prying. She never did like talking about her life before becoming a Guardian. “He might have raised me, but I was never his daughter.”

“I’m sorry.” He took her hands in his and squeezed reassuringly. “I shouldn’t keep asking you about him. But you have a family with us now, Mantis. Not just me, but everyone.”

“I know,” she said, sniffling slightly. “He never hurt me, Peter. Not physically, at least, he was not that kind of man. But I suppose that your brief time with him made it clear what kind of man he really was. I am so much happier here. I cannot imagine ever leaving a life as good as ours.”

Peter internally winced at Mantis’s words, his mind going back to Gamora once again. He couldn’t break Mantis’s heart by telling her about what Gamora and Nebula were planning on doing, not when she was clearly so happy, so at peace with her new life with them. Besides, it wasn’t his truth to tell. “If there’s anything I can do to make it even better, you let me know.”

She smiled down at their joined hands. “Remember when we first met?” she said softly. “I demonstrated my powers by using them on you. At the time, I knew vaguely of what had happened to you before - being chased by the Sovereign, and crashing your ship. I also knew that you must have been quite confused and perhaps angry at meeting your father. And yet, all I could feel was the love you felt for your friends. How you had fought with them, especially with Rocket and Gamora, but you still wanted to make sure they were safe and happy.” She grinned up at him, her antennae lifting with a soft glow. “I do not need things to make me happy, I never did. All I want from you, Peter, is for you to love and care for all of us, as you always have.”

Peter could feel himself tearing up a little bit at Mantis’s kindness. He wrapped her in a bear hug, pulling her in as tight as he could. “That, I can do,” he murmured. “But seriously, if you want your own credit card or something, I could probably get Pepper to set something up, and do you want me to teach you how to drive? Or, like, fly the Milano? Because I could do that, too.” Mantis dissolved into giggles, burying her face into his shoulder, and for a moment, Peter felt the weight lifting off his shoulders, like his head had been cleared of a stormy fog. Mantis had that effect on people, with or without her empathic powers, and he hoped she would never lose it.

______

By the time early afternoon had rolled around, the Academy was the most frenzied it had ever been, including the time that the Ultron bots had tried to take over the school. Pepper had shuttles running on and off campus so students could get their hair and makeup done in the city. Janet had cleared out Van Dyne’s and turned it into a free salon for students who couldn’t afford to pay for appointments, enlisting the help of Mary Jane, Greer, and Peggy (who was coveted by all the girls on campus for both her badassness and her red lipstick game).

The Guardians girls had decided to get ready in Van Dyne’s, not really wanting to bother with the tedium of traveling into the city. Mantis was chatting a mile per minute with Janet, who was equally as excitable. Nebula, who didn’t want her makeup done, and, you know, had no hair, sat in the corner with a magazine, secretly glad that for once, she wasn’t saddled with Yondu for company.

“I’m so glad you’re going, Gamora,” Janet said cheerfully. “I gotta say, I was a little worried it might not be your thing. Same goes for your sister, I’m honestly super surprised she’s going, too.”

“We kind of always travel as a team,” Gamora replied. “You’d be hard-pressed to find any of us alone on purpose, although…”

“Although what?”

“I saw Quill skulking around in the library a lot recently,” Natasha said from her chair, where Peggy was helping her sculpt a glamorous, old-school hairdo. “What’s he up to, Gamora?”

“He has a bit of a side project going on at the moment,” Gamora said as nonchalantly as she could. Internally, she found herself somewhat annoyed - she was trying her best to ignore whatever it was Peter was doing, not let it bother her nearly as much as it had been.

Janet’s eyes narrowed. “When you say side project…”

“He was alone, Jan, don’t make Gamora doubt his faithfulness,” Natasha interjected. “Besides, I can’t imagine him having eyes for anyone but her. He seems absolutely smitten.”

“It is even worse when we are on the ship and they think they are alone,” Mantis added, winking at Gamora when the others weren’t looking. “Peter is very affectionate.”

“And why wouldn’t he be? He’s got an amazing girl, and he should remember that,” Janet said proudly, squeezing Gamora’s arm. Her stomach tensed a little in response. It was hard, pretending to already have something that she wanted so much, knowing that she could if they just took that last step. She thought back to last night, wondering what Peter had meant by telling her that his last question, his twentieth question, was specifically for today.

“He’s, uh, thoughtful, alright,” Gamora nodded, turning to look at herself in the mirror. “Janet, is this much glitter really necessary?”

Janet frowned, offended. “Glitter is always a necessity, thank you very much.”

Meanwhile, the boys were getting ready at the dorms, starting much later than the girls, since they needed to do little else but get changed. Peter stood in front of the mirror, nervously adjusting his cufflinks for what felt like the millionth time. He had considered doing something different with his hair, but he remembered how Gamora had once told him that pretending to be someone he wasn’t was unattractive. He wasn’t that guy, that clean-cut, all-American look he had been sporting, more akin to, well, Captain America than him. And she was right - Peter liked himself better just like this.

“Nice cufflinks.” Peter jumped at the sound of Rocket’s voice, turning to see the others standing in his doorway. To his surprise and the other’s discomfort, Drax was wearing a button-up shirt with his nicely pressed slacks. Yondu was in his ridiculous powder-blue suit, Rocket had on a vest and shorts in some expensive tweed material that was the closest to a suit he was ever going to get, and Groot was in a tiny tuxedo. Peter’s heart melted at the sight of his itsy-bitsy bowtie. “Custom-made?”

Peter turned back to the mirror, staring at his reflection. He had asked Gamora about the colours of her dress so he would be able to match her, though she didn’t seem too concerned if they didn’t. Still, he had taken it to heart, excited at the thought of what she would look like tonight. He was dressed in what was likely the most expensive clothes he would ever own - a plum dress shirt with a suit jacket in the same red as his plethora of leather jackets, dark slacks, and leather oxfords. He also had a few finishing touches - a black tie with tiny white stars, red star-shaped cufflinks, and of course, his mask. At first, he wanted something grey and sleek to mimic the look of his collapsible helmet, but then he found a black mask with silver markings, reminiscent of the one on Gamora’s face. Perfect, he’d thought as he bought it. He hoped she would think so, too.

Also, he remembered to brush his hair. Small victories.

“Online shopping, actually. I did some digging,” Peter shrugged. “How’d you find a suit for Groot? And you?”

“Called in a favour with the Ravager tailor,” Yondu said, looking slightly melancholy. The suits must have been delivered mere days before his men had been attacked. “Twig looks real good, don’t he?”

“I am Groot,” Groot said proudly, puffing his little chest outwards.

“You’re gonna be the best-dressed guy at prom, Groot,” Peter told him.

______

The students audibly gasped as they entered the gym, completely and utterly transformed. Gone were the sweat-stained mats, the sleek weight machines, even the creaky wooden floors. With Pepper’s organization skills and Janet’s eye for style and interior decorating, the entire room had been overhauled to look just as magical as any fairytale illustration.

The floors had been concealed with temporary black-and-white checkerboard linoleum tile, while the walls and mirrors were covered with thick black curtains. White string lights hung from the ceiling banisters, creating the illusion of a perfectly clear night sky as they twinkled off every reflective surface. There was a large dance area cleared out at the very front, where Vision was setting up his DJ booth. The back area consisted of round tables with black velvet tablecloths, gold-framed chairs with black cushions, all faintly lit by its centerpieces of black, white, and red flowers, with small fake scented candles in the middle. To finish it all off were sets of white and gold cutlery, black cloth napkins, and gold table settings, harkening of old-school decadence. It was simply stunning, and probably blew the budget Director Fury had been hoping for.

As breathtakingly beautiful as everything was, it wasn’t the view Peter had been looking for. He glanced around in wonderment until his eyes landed on the girls he had been seeking out. Nebula was scowling as always, though she admittedly looked quite nice in her fitted jumpsuit and combat boots, not too far a stretch from her usual leather uniform. Mantis was bouncing up and down excitedly in her bright green tulle dress, her alien-shaped earrings swinging from her head with every move she made. Her hair was up in two perfectly shaped buns on the very top of her head, with a healthy dose of silvery-green glitter on her roots, her eyelids, and in her lipstick. Gamora, though, was...wow.

Peter approached her with what he felt was probably the biggest, dumbest grin he had ever sported, wondering for a moment how he had lucked out, until his brain kicked in and reminded him that despite everything, she still wasn’t actually his girlfriend. With any luck, he was hoping to find a way to change that tonight.

As he got closer, he drank in the mesmerizing sight before him. Gamora wasn’t as tomboyish as her sister, but she definitely didn’t wear dresses or skirts very often. Regardless, Peter found her to be utterly gorgeous no matter what she wore, whether she was wearing a dress or in full combat gear, brandishing a sword (and now he was picturing her in a dress with her sword. Damn). Tonight, she was in a floor-length gown with a leather corset belt, the dress itself starting off jet black at the bustline, and melting into a soft red and purple ombre from the hips down, somewhat echoing the ombre of her hair. She wore a thin black choker with a golden star charm, elbow-length lace-up gloves reminiscent of those she wore in combat, glittery earrings, and a deep purple mask with dark red swirls. Her hair was up in a complicated braided twist, further showcasing the reds of her hair. There was a serene confidence in the way she held herself, her chin slightly tipped upwards as always, her hands resting on her waist, though there was a gentleness in her stance as well that Peter had come to admire so much.

He held out the corsage in complete silence, a collection of black and white blossoms that Groot had spent quite some time working on. She took the cue to lift her hand, allowing him to slide the satin ribbon over her gloved wrist, smiling warmly at him the entire time, despite him being rendered speechless.

Once he finished, however, he was still gaping at her rather oddly. “Peter?” Gamora looked slightly concerned. “You haven’t said anything.”

“Sorry,” Peter said a little louder than he’d meant to. “It’s just...you look incredible. And, uh, I like the star on your necklace. We had the same idea it seems.” He patted on his tie with one hand, feeling rather idiotic as he did so, while lifting his other arm to show her his cufflinks.

“That’s not all.” Gamora took a step back and lifted the hem of her dress to reveal strappy black heels, complete with golden star-shaped buckles. She moved back towards him, her hands coming to rest over his. “What do you think, Star-Lord?”

He bent to kiss her, his arms sliding around her waist and pulling her flush against him, hands cradling the small of her back. As Gamora’s arms came up to rest over the back of his neck, he heard the shutter noise of a camera, but he was barely paying attention to their surroundings in favour of holding her just a little bit closer. It was weird, kissing her and knowing what it meant to both of them, what it could mean.

Eventually, though, Gamora pulled away, turning towards the camera. Janet was standing there in a giant poofy black-and-yellow dress and a beehive-like updo, utterly appropriate for her superhero moniker, clutching a DSLR camera instead of her usual Starkphone. “Aren’t you two the cutest?” she gushed, causing Gamora to flush slightly. “We’re doing portraits over by the drinks table, if you’d like. I’m trying to squeeze in some last-minute photos for the yearbook, they’re being sent in for print on Sunday. And, not to give it away, but there’s a pret-ty good chance you two are the Academy’s Cutest Couple!”

“I look forward to finding out,” Peter winked, turning to look at Gamora, his arms still around her middle. “What do you think, honey? Wanna get our pictures taken?”

Gamora glanced over at Janet’s hopeful face before looking back up at Peter. “Sure, why not.”

______

After everyone, students and teachers that were stuck as chaperones alike, had filed in and settled down at their tables, dinner was served by some suspiciously compliant Ultron bots, while jazzy lounge music serenaded them from the speakers set up around the gym, creating a rather pleasant atmosphere. While it was commonplace for some of the other students to get such treatment, the Guardians found themselves somewhat overwhelmed with the classiness of the whole affair. The fanciest place they had ever been to was when the Nova Corps had given them some pity units after defeating Ego, and they had splurged on a group dinner at Olive Garden. They weren’t allowed back after the breadstick incident, though Rocket still claimed to this day that the waitress had marinara sauce in her hair before he got involved.

“Ain’t this pleasant.” Yondu brandished his fork at their surroundings. “Sittin’ down in our best clothes, having a nice meal like rich folk.”

“Food’s good,” Rocket admitted. He had practically inhaled everything on his plate in the first ten minutes of the meal.

Drax, however, hadn’t started eating yet, as he had spent a good five minutes cutting up Groot’s portion into smaller pieces, and was now lost in thought, looking around at the other tables, taking it all in. “What an interesting life we lead. Your Terra is much more exciting than I initially thought it would be, Quill,” he mused.

“Yeah, but it’s less ‘planet of outlaws’ and more ‘planet of heroes’, apparently,” Peter shrugged. Gamora squirmed a little in discomfort at Drax’s words. Was he also somehow aware of her plans to leave? It seemed like everyone was getting weirdly nostalgic about a past currently taking place in the present, as if they were missing something that was still there. Then again, she felt that way about Peter - he was sitting right next to her, his elbow occasionally brushing her arm as they ate, and yet part of her felt like she had already left him behind.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Rocket said enthusiastically, holding up his glass of punch. “Let’s drink to bein’ a bunch of a-holes and heroes!”

“Cheers to that!” Peter grinned. They all raised their glasses in a rare moment of perfect solidarity - even Nebula joined in, a genuinely relaxed expression on her face that suggested she was actually enjoying herself. Janet swung by to take a photo of their toast, and other students were watching from a distance, looking jealous. Peter certainly couldn’t blame them - his odd, dysfunctional family probably looked like they had found their peace with each other. And for the most part, they had. He still couldn’t help but glance over at Gamora, though she seemed to be doing a pretty good job at masking what he was sure to be dominating her every thought.

Eventually, the sounds of cutlery and glasses clinking about slowly died down, and the lounge music faded away. Vision took his place at the DJ booth and announced that Janet had put together a special playlist with the help of some students, an appropriately old-school mix of songs to suit the masquerade theme.

“You have something to do with this?” Gamora asked Peter, curious. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to handle one of the songs they had danced to in private suddenly blasting through the gym speakers. The song from their six-month anniversary, the one from the hotel room, hell, even the one they had danced to back on Knowhere. She had caught Peter listening to Fooled Around and Fell In Love more than once, and admittedly it was still one of her favourites, considering it was one of the first Terran songs she ever listened to. Still, she had no desire to hear it again in this very moment, or else everything she was thinking about would be written all over her face.

“I made a couple suggestions, but they wanted something even further back. Think Cap, Carter, and Barnes,” Peter chuckled. He stood and undid the button of his suit jacket, then held out his hand for her to take. “Shall we?” Nodding, Gamora accepted his hand and let him lead her towards the dance floor.

Most people had remained in their seats, still finishing up dinner (or waiting for dessert). Janet, of course, was already out on the dance floor, surrounded by several of her girls, while Steve and Peggy were swaying together in perfect rhythm, dancing in the way they had promised to do so many decades ago. The first song on the playlist was Frank Sinatra’s version of Cheek to Cheek, appropriately upbeat and a perfect start for the night. Some students looked baffled at the thought of dancing to something that wasn’t currently in the Top 100, but joined in regardless, eager to have some fun and forget about their troubles.

“You must be living your dream right now,” Gamora remarked dryly a few songs later. Peter was trying his hardest to sing along to Puttin’ on the Ritz and failing, though he was endearingly eager in his efforts. “The entire room is dancing.” It was hard to get a read on his expression when there was so much frantic movement around them, and the mask concealing the upper half of his face certainly didn’t help, but there was such unbridled joy in every shift of his muscle, every bounce in his step, that it was utterly infectious. Gamora felt herself fully relax for the first time in weeks, shoulders loosening as she tried to keep up with him and the energy of the rest of the student body.

“It’s the best,” he beamed, smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. “I’ve got music, I’ve got my team, I’ve got you - what else could I ask for?”

Peter and Drax swapped dance partners a few songs later at the beginnings of a Benny Goodman medley. Mantis’s enthusiasm matched Peter’s step for step, hysterical giggles escaping her body like they had bubbled up from inside and couldn’t wait to get out. It was endearing to watch them together, both somewhat childlike in similar ways, not that it was a bad thing. Gamora admired their upbeat, can-do attitude in the face of adversity - it was refreshing to be around them when she had spent so much of her life with the sullen Nebula.

Peter had taken Mantis under his wing the moment he came to the conclusion she was basically his sister, taught her the ways of the Guardians and the ways of Earth. She had adapted quickly, having had no other measure of quality of life than her bland existence on Ego, and was reasonably well-liked by the others on campus. Gamora felt a little guilty, thinking back on how aggressive she had been towards Mantis at first, and how wary she had been about Mantis’s powers. Now, Mantis was also something of a sister to her as well, someone she had grown to love and care for like they had known each other their whole lives.

“You seem lost in thought,” Drax commented. The two of them were standing on the sidelines, keeping an eye on their respective dates. “Did you want to go back out and dance? If you must, I could accompany you.”

“That’s kind of you, Drax, but I’m alright,” Gamora said, squeezing his shoulder. “Are you having a good time?”

“I must admit, the music is quite catchy. It almost makes me want to tap my foot,” Drax replied. “And you? You and Quill look very good together, contrary to my previous beliefs. He is getting you to dance more and more. Somehow.”

She laughed sheepishly, reaching to push her mask up her forehead so she could look at him properly. “I have to say, Peter might be onto something. It’s nice to have fun when there’s so much going on.”

He looked at her quizzically. “I was not aware there was something ‘going on’. What’s wrong, Gamora?”

Gamora bit her lip. Shoot, she’d slipped. Aside from Groot, Drax was the one she was most worried about. After all, he had been the one to hunt her down from the start so he could get to Thanos. He may have relaxed immensely since becoming a Guardian and starting a new life on Earth, but he was still just as fight-starved and bloodthirsty as ever when he came down to it. If he knew she was going after Thanos, he would want to join in, no matter what. As much as she wanted to keep it a secret from him, she was more worried about how he would react if he found out the truth from someone else. “Just...Nebula and I have been thinking about leaving the school for a little while to look for Thanos. We can no longer just sit by and watch him hurt others who do not deserve it.”

“Leaving?” Drax was looking at her as if he had never heard of such a concept. “You would leave all of this behind?”

“It’s not forever,” she protested.

“You and I both know the chances of your return after confronting Thanos are abysmal,” Drax snorted. “I mean no offense, Gamora, but he is unmatched in strength. I certainly do not need to tell you that.” She nodded, sighing. “Well, if you wish to take him on with no reinforcement, then I wish you luck. But this planet will suffer a great loss without you here to protect it. And our team will have lost our greatest warrior, leader, and friend.”

Gamora found herself completely thrown for a loop, unsure of how to answer what was likely the highest praise she had ever heard Drax offer, and it was to her, no less. “I - you - you’re...not asking to join us?”

“Of course not,” Drax chuckled. “I have learned well from the evaluations you and Quill have made of me. My rash behaviour, my lack of practiced discipline, it will do you no favours out there. I have no desire to hinder you and Nebula. Besides, I have found peace within myself, and need no revenge to satisfy the unceasing pain Thanos has caused me. My new purpose in life is here, on Terra. A new family, to honour my old one.” He turned to look at her, a sad smile on his face. “We would all greatly prefer for you to stay, of course.”

“As everyone’s been telling me,” she sighed. “I don’t want to think about how Nebula would react if I changed my mind, again.”

“Well, it is clear to me that Nebula genuinely loves you, despite her harsh words and actions that suggest otherwise,” he said thoughtfully. Nebula was standing several feet away, eyes narrowed as she watched her classmates dancing with abandon. Yondu had tried to drag her out with him, but predictably, she had refused and threatened to gouge his eyeballs out, so now Yondu was somewhere in the middle of a circle of girls, trying his best to make them laugh. “She would be angry, as she always is, but she would forgive you. She knows how much we mean to you, and you to us. Don’t let Nebula make your decision for you. You deserve to make your choice for yourself.”

Gamora felt tears welling up in her eyes at Drax’s words, and she quickly moved to wipe them away. “Thank you, Drax. That’s very kind of you to say.”

He nodded before moving to wrap her in a giant hug, enveloping her in his incredibly large arms. He squeezed a little too tight, as if he were unaware of his own strength, but it was a comfort to know that her relationship with Drax had come so far. “You are my friend, Gamora. I trust you will know, in your heart, what is right for you.”

Drax released her as she inhaled sharply, trying her best to recover before Peter could see and immediately try to fix the problem, as often tried to do. It was then that she noticed Drax also looked melancholy, though differently than before. “Something on your mind?” she asked.

He was quiet for so long she wondered if he had heard her at all, his arms folded over his chest, closing himself off. “I miss Hovat.”

Gamora’s heart broke a little for Drax. His usual moods were often either rambunctious violence or infectious laughter, so it was sometimes too easy to forget he had lost people as well. Drax had told the Guardians the story of his childhood sweetheart, whom he had met at a school dance much like this one. She had not moved a single muscle despite the catchy music, and right then and there, he knew she was the one. They had been together for an unusually long time for a school-aged relationship, and had started talking about marriage and children after finishing their studies, until she and Drax’s relatives were killed by Thanos. Gamora knew little else about Hovat, but she knew that they had wanted a daughter.

Before she could say something, anything, that could possibly make up for what Thanos had done to Drax, Mantis and Peter practically bounced over to them, grinning from ear to ear in guileless joy. When they saw Drax’s face, Peter looked over to Gamora in confusion, but Mantis simply stepped forward and gently laid a hand on Drax’s forearm. Gamora moved as if to stop her, concerned that Mantis was about to use her powers, but the other girl’s antennae never moved as she said, “Should we go get some air?” Drax nodded wordlessly, allowing Mantis to lead him outside while she began an excitable monologue about all the fun songs she and Peter had danced to.

“What happened?” Peter asked.

“Nothing,” Gamora said, fixing him with a stare, silently pleading for him not to pry. “You’re a mess, Peter.” She pulled out his pocket square so she could wipe at the beads of sweat forming along his hairline. He only laughed in response.

As if on cue, the music switched to something slower, more sensual. Peter took it as a sign, and offered his arm to her again. “Ready to head back out there?”

______

At this point in the evening, large groups of friends and teams had started heading back to the tables to take a break, while couples who had been sitting out the fast-paced songs were now making their way onto the dance floor. Elektra, who was guiding Matt with a gentler touch than she had ever had in her entire life, winked at Gamora as she and Peter made their way back.

Long ago and far away...I dreamed a dream one day...and now...that dream is here beside me...

“Is there such a thing as slow songs that aren’t about love?” Gamora half-grumbled. Her nerves were alight wherever Peter was touching her - one hand clasped in hers, the other splayed across the small of her back. Their thighs brushed with every step, his face hovering mere inches from hers. I could kiss him right now if I wanted to, she thought.

“I’m sure there are, but personally, love songs are kind of my favourite,” Peter replied. As if he had read her mind, he ducked his head to press a kiss at the crook of her jaw. His eyes flickered upwards briefly to meet Yondu’s, who was back at their table, watching them. He nodded in approval, raising a glass as if to toast to them. Feeling brave, Peter nuzzled a little further into her neck, catching a whiff of her perfume as he did, before drawing back so he could observe her.

Just one look and then I knew...that all I longed for...long ago was you...

Warm from Peter’s gaze, Gamora leaned forward to rest her chin on his shoulder, watching other couples as a means of distracting herself. She could see the respect and trust in Steve and Peggy’s faces, their eyes never leaving each other once. Jessica was uncharacteristically soft, her usual tense, hard-edged posture completely lax in Luke’s giant, but gentle embrace. Misty and Danny, Billy and Teddy, and oh, Natasha and Clint. Gamora lifted her hand from Peter’s arm to wave at Natasha, who seemed happy to be back with him, if not in the romantic sense quite yet.

As the music continued on, Gamora could feel her feet start to ache a little - she wasn’t used to wearing stilettos - but she had no desire to walk away just yet, though the lyrics of each song were increasingly hitting home, to the point of her feeling a little more than paranoid.

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me...while I'm alone and blue as can be...dream a little dream of me...

Is your heart filled with pain...shall I come back again...tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight...

You've gone away...this aching heart of mine is singing...lover, come back to me...

After you've gone...and left me crying...after you've gone...there's no denying...

We'll meet again...don't know where…don't know when...but I know we'll meet again some sunny day...

Personally, Gamora was starting to think someone was out to get her, though as far as she could tell, Peter wasn’t the one who had chosen these songs. He did, however, notice she was becoming uncomfortable, her shoulders more rigid than before, her eyes darting around the room like she was expecting something to jump out at her.

“You feeling okay? It’s almost 11, and I’m fine, but if you wanna leave…”

“One more song, and I might want to call it a night,” she replied, grateful that he had noticed. She wasn’t sure if she was ever going to speak up, trapped between wanting to stay forever, and wanting to go before the songs left her devastated. “I’ve been so tired lately.”

“Understandable.” He squeezed her hand in sympathy. “Hey, I’m glad we got to do this together, you know? Have something normal in our lives for once. And it’s been the perfect night. Too bad they haven’t played anything I suggested, that would really seal the deal.” Then, as if the entire universe were out to get Gamora, a familiar piano strain began to play, causing Peter’s eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

“Peter…”

He didn’t respond, instead electing to rotate them slightly, guiding her with the hand on her back, so Gamora was turned away from the crowd, focusing solely on him. He tipped his head downwards so his nose was pressed into her hair, his mouth ghosting over her ear, as he began to sing along.

“If you ever...change your mind...about leaving, leaving me behind…”

Her fingers dug deep into his shoulders, leaving indents in his jacket. He didn’t seem to notice, though, rubbing slow circles into her back as if to reassure her that he was right there.

“Bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin’...bring it on home to me…” He fell silent as the song continued. They were barely taking any steps at this point, basically swaying on the spot as other couples moved slowly but steadily around them. “Have you thought about your last question yet?”

I know I laughed when you left...but now I know I only hurt myself…

“Not yet,” Gamora said weakly, loosening her grip. “You seem quite confident in yours.”

“I’ve been denying myself of asking for a while now,” Peter replied. “Didn’t think there would be a good time for it.”

I'll give you jewelry and money too...that ain't all, that ain't all I'll do for you...

“Did you want to ask now?”

He smiled. “Maybe it’s a little cowardly of me, but I only want to ask when I’m sure of the answer.”

“Then what’s the point of asking?” She was beginning to grow frustrated. Peter wasn’t usually this evasive, had never been one to talk so mysteriously. He talked in circles at times, yes, but never did he purposely try to confuse her the way he was now.

“You’ll see.”

You know I'll always be your slave…till I'm buried, buried in my grave…

“You’re doing it again,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Peter, what did I say about being honest?”

“You gotta let me have this,” he said, a sudden desperate pleading in his eyes. “Gamora, please.”

The hazy, intimate, almost dream-like bubble of their surroundings had “popped” for Gamora, and she couldn’t help but feel soured by Peter’s odd behaviour. She pulled away from his grasp. “I can’t finish this song,” she said quietly. “I think I’m done for tonight.”

Peter looked understandably disappointed. “I guess we have done this one before,” he sighed. “Can I walk you back, at least? Milano, or the dorms?”

“Milano,” she said firmly. She didn’t want to spend another night staring at blank walls again. At least the stickers in her bunk would provide some comfort, though she was hesitant about whether she wanted to share a bed with Peter, or if he was even going to offer, considering how tense they had both become so quickly.

The other Guardians sent them curious looks as they made their way to the doors, but Peter only patted Yondu on the shoulder and gave Mantis a quick hug before they left, otherwise choosing not to stop and talk. They walked in terse silence, a good three feet apart instead of with their hands laced together as they usually did. Peter was inexplicably on his phone the whole way, tapping away on his screen at a speed that suggested he was attempting to write a novel before they returned. Increasingly irritated, Gamora picked up her pace until she was a solid ten feet ahead, and was practically marching the rest of the way until they got to the loading bay.

“Gamora,” Peter called to her. “Can we sit? And talk? Please?”

Part of her wanted to roll her eyes and walk away, but hell, Gamora wasn’t sure how many more chances she would get to do this, so she would take what she could get. Besides, she had already made up her mind about what to do. It was blindingly obvious, in retrospect, but frankly, Peter’s behaviour had her wanting to make him sweat a little, savouring her decision for tomorrow as initially planned.

She sat next to him on the floor by the side flank of the Milano, and began to peel off her gloves. She removed her necklace and shoes as well, letting out a soft sigh as she wiggled her toes, freeing her feet of their increasing stiffness. “Can you help with the hair? I’ve got pins in places I can’t reach.” The tension in her body began to dissipate as his fingers worked their way through her hair.

“You have a good time tonight?”

“I did. It kept me from thinking about everything that’s been happening, at least for a little while.”

“Yeah, we’ve had some pretty crazy stuff go down these past few months.” Peter gently eased out the last of the bobby pins. His fingers slid back into her hair, feeling around for others, easing out the tangles in the process. Gamora felt the warmth stir in her belly again, remembering the way she’d imagined Peter’s hands to feel like. “Y’know...if you do end up staying, I think we should take a couple months off of galaxy-wide missions. Stay here on Earth, prioritize a little. We keep diving back in - or rather, out there - and it’s been screwing us over, a lot. We’ll pull in a pretty substantial amount of units from the yearbook contest, do some small missions here and there for a bit to keep us afloat. Hell, maybe I’ll get a part-time job.”

“You’re that worried about money?” Gamora turned around to face him. “We’ve been running the budgets together since the beginning, Peter. Is there something you’re not telling me? Aside from, you know, everything else?”

He ignored the jab. “No, it’s just.” He stopped himself, exhaling harshly. “Look, even if you don’t leave now, you’re gonna want to eventually. And you need money to get around, get food and supplies, whatever. I want to make sure we have enough set aside for that to happen, especially if it’s happening right now.”

Gamora found herself unable to respond. Time and time again, Peter was always surprising her, and for once, he had done it in a good way. Whenever she wanted to go over their money, he had waved her off, saying he would just spend less on take-out next month. Yet, here he was with a contingency in place for something that should never have even happened. It seemed like he had matured a great deal in the short time she had known him, become a true leader. Secretly, Peter thought the same of her, the way that her newfound understanding of people had brought her to equal ground as well.

While Gamora thought things over, Peter had pulled up a movie on his phone and was projecting it on the side of the ship. It was The Princess Bride again, one of the only romantic movies he had known her to favour, likely because of the sword fighting and not the love story. They watched in silence, and unlike all the other times, sat a distance away from each other, as if they were scared that physical contact was going to lead them elsewhere.

“Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.”

At those words, Gamora could take it no longer. Her last question had suddenly become incredibly clear. Really, she had been denying it so long, dragging everything out when it could be so simple. She leaned over to pause the movie despite having only a minute left, and said, “Last question. Why haven’t you asked me to stay?”

Peter’s face went utterly blank, an expression she couldn’t place in any range of emotions known to man. It scared her a little - Peter, who was usually like an open book, lacking the tells she had come to love about him. He picked up his phone, stood, and held out his hand for her to take. He led her into the Milano, set his phone down on the table, and moved to one of the cabinets near the weapons storage. She watched in astonishment as he pulled out a plastic tub and upended all of its contents onto the table.

Documents, photographs, bits and pieces of things she couldn’t even identify upon first glance, spilled across the surface. Gamora took a cautious step forward, picking up the first thing that caught her eye. A stained receipt for a bar on Knowhere, the one where Rocket and Drax had fought, where she and Peter had first danced. There was a phone number on the back that she recognized to be the Collector’s private line.

Another item - one of the anulax batteries that Rocket had stolen, which was now burnt out after his initial attempts to make a bomb for Ego.

Ticket stubs for their day at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The log they had used as Groot’s temporary arm. The receipt for the pizza he had bought for their six-month anniversary date. Multiple copies of the photos they had taken together over the past three months, documenting their “relationship”.

Of course, Gamora thought. Peter has always been a sentimental person. It’s what keeps his head held high, and what can crush him in an instant if good memories are sullied by another. She hadn’t heard him listen to Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl) since encountering Ego, and suspected that she never would again.

Beyond the sentimental items, she spotted stacks of fake IDs, lists of names and phone numbers, brochures and pamphlets neatly clipped together with vouchers and profiles, tucked away in manila folders or crisp, unmarked white envelopes. The fake IDs sported photos of her and Nebula, with various fake names and birthdates, along with false racial identities (Nebula would hate for anyone to think she was Kree, and yet it was the most recurring one Gamora could spot, likely because Kree were much more common than Luphomoids. Gamora, of course, being the only Zehoberei alive, needed to be given new identities entirely).

She couldn’t make sense of anything until she picked up one small package labeled “Berhert”. Inside were notes about their first time on Berhert where Ego had come to “rescue” them, the second, in which Gamora successfully retrieved Nebula, and then the third, also known as the “Brionne incident”. There were maps, print-outs, and articles detailing the life on the planet, ranging from the flora to the fauna, all the known bases of operations that existed.

Another labeled “Xandar” - a long contact sheet of all the Nova Corps officers they had become acquainted with, articles about the Guardians’ activity on the planet, reports of Thanos’s sightings, including his most recent attack. There were also lists of weapons depots, pawn shops, and safehouses.

As Gamora made her way through every package, Peter watching her silently, she could see, quite clearly, how detailed everything was, how much time and effort it must have taken to gather every last resource they had. She glanced at Peter’s phone off-handedly, only to notice that instead of displaying the movie, he had pulled up what looked to be a transferable databank, easy to transmit to any other phone, consisting of the hundreds of contacts he had across all the packages, along with GPS coordinates for every location he had listed.

Peter didn’t have just twelve percent of a plan. He had nearly everything she and Nebula would need to take on Thanos.

“Peter,” she breathed, unsure of what else to say. He walked towards her almost shyly, his expression soft, warm, loving.

He cupped her face in his large hands, running a thumb across her cheek. Her arms automatically went around his waist, pulling him closer. They were quiet for a moment, the only notable sounds being the music from prom, and the persistent hum of the Milano’s systems hard at work. She was reminded of the hotel room, the noises of city life roaring around them as they had danced.

“I know you hate it when I don’t have a plan,” he began, causing her to chuckle into his shoulder. “I also know you hate big gestures, so really, this might be the worst thing I’ve done so far. But hear me out. I’m not asking you to stay, simply because I know you want to go. And if that’s what you want, then it’s what I want, too. I also wanna help, and I’ve become a pretty good tactician, so I wanted to do this for you, get you guys off the ground, because I know you’ve been distracted about whether you even wanted to do it in the first place. I’m not gonna pretend like I know better than you about this stuff, because I don’t. I talk a lot of shit about being this amazing leader, but half of the reason why I do good work out there is because I’ve got you with me, taking on anything and everything far beyond what I can handle, being the most incredible partner in...everything that I could ask for, beyond anything I could ask for. You’ve always been more confident, more capable, and I’m not saying that so you’ll talk me back up, I’m saying it because I believe it’s true. What I’ve done here...it’s not complete, it’s not perfect, I probably messed up somewhere, I dunno, but I wanted to be able to do this for you, because…”

He stopped himself, taking a shaky breath. He leaned forwards, resting his forehead against hers, clutching her hands in his between their chests. Gamora could feel her own heart beating wildly in her chest, like it was trying to escape.

“Last question for you.” His voice had dropped to a whisper. “After everything we’ve been through together - how we’ve suffered, how we’ve prevailed, every single time we fought with each other and against each other, whether we lost or won - I know you know, but do you believe me...when I tell you that I’m in love with you?”

Oh.

Gamora tipped her chin upwards, her lips just barely brushing against his. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I don’t like big gestures. But this isn’t one of them. In fact, I’d consider it, as I’ve said, a sign of love. As is this.” With that, she closed the gap, moving her hands away from his chest to his shoulders as she kissed him with everything she had - every song they had listened to, every danced they had shared. The movies they had watched, the training sessions they had fought, the missions they had endured. The laughter, the arguments, the silences in between, all for this very moment.

It took her a second to realize Peter had wrapped his arms around her waist and had lifted her off the ground, her entire weight resting against him. She could feel wetness on both their faces, though she wasn’t sure which one of them had started crying - it was probably Peter. He set her back down and pulled away, eyes glossy, before leaning back in to capture her mouth again, this time more hungrily, as if to affirm it was truly happening, that she was really here. It was unlike the other kisses they had shared, even the ones during prom, when they had been pretending it was still pretend.

After what felt like both hours and seconds at the same time, Gamora moved backward, though she gripped at the lapels of his suit jacket as if he were going to suddenly vanish in thin air, should she let go. “I believe you, Peter Quill,” she replied, almost giddy. “And I’m in love with you, too.”

He beamed so widely and unselfconsciously, that she could feel her own cheeks burn with the intensity of her returning grin. “I wasn’t planning on telling you at first, because it seemed like a selfish thing to do,” he said, shaking his head with a self-deprecating chuckle. “But I’m not telling you so you’ll stay, I’m telling you so you’ll know why I’m helping you leave. Did that...did that make any sense at all?”

“It’s the kind of odd logic I’ve come to expect of you,” Gamora laughed, leaning in to kiss him again.

It started off gentle, as sweet and innocent as any first kiss could be, though it was perhaps one of two or even three dozen kisses they had already shared before tonight. Surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly), Gamora was the one who deepened it, her mouth falling slightly open so she could push her tongue into Peter’s mouth. Heat emanated from her body again, a desperation beginning to build in between her legs, and she could take it no longer, now that she was so close. Her hands moved to his tie, fumbling slightly as she attempted to undo it without pulling her mouth away from his. Peter eventually had to let go, albeit reluctantly, so he could help her loosen it, though his eyebrows shot up when her hands then reached for his belt. “Gamora…?”

“I told you...I’ve been thinking about you,” she said, her breath coming out heavier than she intended. She looked up at him through her lashes, biting her lip in the way she knew left him dazed. “This isn’t me being rash, or desperate, or whatever it is you think is happening. This is me having thought about it, about what I want to do with you and to you. Extensively. I want this if you want this.”

Peter’s pupils darkened near instantly, his head tilting once more, a half-cocky smirk taking place. “Okay,” he said, his voice low. “Yeah, I definitely want this.” Without another word, his hands slid downwards to cup her backside, lifting her up so her legs went around his waist, her hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders. She buried her face into his neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of cologne and post-dance sweat that was just so Peter, before beginning to mouth at his jawline, sucking bruising kisses along his throat. She only pulled away once to moan into his shoulder as he gave her a generous squeeze.

He carried her into his room, slowly lowering her onto the mattress, reluctant to let go. He paused to stare down at her, admiring the sight of her in his bed in an entirely new context, before kneeling over her, capturing her mouth again. Impatient, Gamora tugged at his pants again, causing Peter to laugh before moving to undress her. His lips continued to wander over her face and neck as he slowly slid her dress off her body, letting out a soft sigh at seeing her exposed skin for the first time, the curve of her hips and the swell of her chest. She barely let him go long enough so he could carefully set her dress aside before yanking him back, fingernails digging into him as he began unbuttoning his shirt, mouth moving to his neck again. “G’mora - you gotta give me a second - oh - ” He interrupted himself with a desperate whine as her head dipped further downwards, biting at the base of his throat, possessive. Mine.

Finally, Peter managed to reduce them both to their underwear, laying them back down again so he could kiss her, though Gamora was clearly desperate for him to get on with it, her grip becoming vice-like, leaving almost painful pinpricks in his back. He grinned against her mouth before moving down her front, leaving open-mouthed kisses on her chest and her stomach, savouring the taste of her skin. Peter lifted his head to look at her as she sat up slightly, gaze fixated on him, her eyes even darker than usual.

“If you need me to slow down or stop, just say so,” he said, his tone both gentle and lustful. Gamora nodded, slightly confused at what Peter was intending on doing, until she realized he was pulling her underwear off and tossing it aside, shuffling himself further down until he was practically kneeling on the floor. Giving her one last wicked smirk, a purely Peter expression of both confidence and pride, he slowly pushed her knees apart, lowering his head between her legs. With a gasp, she squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back, her fingernails now gripping at the sheets, desperate to find something to anchor herself to, as Peter’s hands slid up her thighs so he could brace her hips, pinning her to the bed.

It wasn’t exactly how Gamora had intended to end her night, her best case scenario being that Peter would want to stay up with her, talking, finally trying to convince her to stay. However, it seemed as if he had found another (frankly, much better) use for his mouth after all.

a/n: we made it, y'all! i did say things were going down this chapter, correct? i know, i'm mad at myself for the stupid joke, too. of course, gamora may have made up her mind at this point, but you don't know what she's decided on just yet ;)

Some links - peter and gamora's outfits, and yondu, nebula, and mantis's outfits. complete prom song list, if you're curious: cheek to cheek, puttin' on the ritz, long ago and far away, dream a little dream of me, are you lonesome tonight, lover come back to me, after you've gone, we'll meet again, and of course, bring it on home to me.

#starmora #peter quill #gamora #guardians of the galaxy #avengers academy #myfic #myfic: 20q #marvel #epilogue is coming next friday!#also not to be like 'validate me pls'#but likes and reblogs would be lovely thank you!!

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