Drax came to him first. “How do you feel about conjugal relations, Quill?”
“Awesomely.” Peter drank his slug juice and thought of the young woman he had met at a club last cycle. Three, tangerine-bright eyes, tight ass, and an adventurous nest mate with a wicked grin and an enormous, slippery sex organ that still turned Peter’s legs to jelly when he thought of it. “Conjugal relations are awesome, as a rule.”
“I agree and would support such a rule if it were to exist.” Drax sat across from Peter in the tiny breakfast nook they had installed. The chair squeaked and Drax steeple’d his fingers.
Peter was unnerved but he managed a smile as his sipped his juice. “Are you propositioning me?”
Drax looked relieved. “Yes.”
To his credit, Peter did not spit out his juice. He just sort of choked on it. “I thought you just liked women?”
“Women are excellent. Like you, however, I also appreciate men and their charms. And you are charming to me.”
Peter’s face went hot and he had to look away, hand rubbing the back of his neck. To preserve the sanctity of the team, this conversation had to stop right now, because he did not want to literally fuck up the Guardians and ruin probably the best thing that had happened to him in forever.
But Drax was being really sweet, you know? “I spent a lot of time being really un-charming before I could charm,” Peter said.
“Oh yes, that shows, too. You are still very un-charming and ‘a dick,’ as you say, when you wish to be.”
Ouch. “Well, jeez, thanks a lot, then.”
“We really can’t date though, man,” said Peter. “I’m sorry.”
“It would not have to be courting,” Drax said a little too quickly. “In fact, it could just be relations of a bedroom nature. I am approaching a period of great sexual interest, as per the biology of my species every few cycles. My daughter was conceived on such an occasion.”
Oh God, Drax was a Vulcan and he needed to pon farr the shit out of something. He didn’t actually like Peter that way, at least not totally, he just needed a good fuck. That hurt, too, but Peter was team captain and he had to be there for people. “Problem solved! We’ll head over to a whorehouse on the next pleasure planet.” Peter slapped his shoulder, which made Drax jump.
“I’ve never been very good with prostitutes.” Drax frowned. “They use flowery perfume and confusing euphemisms.”
“Not to worry, pal. We’ll find the right one.” Peter threw in a wink for good measure. “You’d make a good fuck buddy, I’m sure, but we got to think of better solutions.”
Drax looked very serious. “Of course.”
“Yes. I understand.” Drax left the table.
Satisfied, Peter returned to his juice.
“Well, you fucked that up,” Rocket announced.
Peter spilled the rest of his juice because it was going to be one of those days, wasn’t it? It totally was. He looked around. “Dude, how long have you been there?”
Rocket skittered along the ceiling. He was attached to a vent with a harness and had something in his leathery paw that looked like a very small screwdriver. “Remember the part where you sat down here and scratched your sack for a bunch?”
“There’s no privacy on this ship, is there?”
“This thing is the size of a tin can. Course not. And I got a ventilation system to unfuck.” Unhooking the harness, Rocket dropped to the table. “And guy’s heartbroken, now.”
“What? No! He’s fine! Drax is a tough guy.”
“Uh huh. Yeah, sure. Go apologize.”
“And have sex?”
“Not if you don’t want to. But, like, you could have had the decency to say you appreciated him asking you and whatever.”
“To be his cum receptacle because he’s going into heat?”
“You know him. We all know him.”
“Which is why I don’t want to fuck this shit up.”
Rocket tutted. “You know he’s just going to ask Gamora.”
“He’s not going to ask Gamora.”
“He’s totally doing that right now.”
“Then she’ll say no, too. Remember the time he called her a whore?”
“They understand each other better, now.”
“And I understand she’ll be like, ‘Hell no.’” Peter, all confidence, stood up with his cup to go wash it and put it away.
Peter licked the juice from his fingers as he stood over the sink. He considered, just for the hell of it, a one-night stand to see what Drax was packing and in what shape it was.
He had made love to creatures of various genders who came slick trails of lubricant that tasted like sugar and salt and seawater. One had skin that shimmered when he came. Memorably, another had laid eggs inside him, which lead to a very sexy and very weird evening as she whispered in his ear directions to push them back out. It wasn’t something he would have said he’d be into before, but gasping and shuddering under his partner’s fingers while being invaded repeatedly? Fuck. He had rarely met bed partners who didn’t have something interesting about them. He imagined Drax as a rough, angry lover, ordering Peter to bite, thrust, and come when he demanded.
It turned Peter on completely.
But the Guardians really were a good thing. If Drax and his relationship went south, no matter how deliciously sticky and warm their rendezvous, the team as they knew it would dissolve. His family would be gone.
Peter cheered himself up by striking out on his own for a bar at the next space station.
There, he found a man from the Andromeda system who wore a cape, a loin cloth, and not much else. He had gray, soft lips that sparked as they kissed Peter and a laugh that thrummed through his body.
Peter squirmed close, eyes wide, pleased, and boozy. The long cloak was also kind of a turn on, like when the man threw it around Peter and used it to draw him near. All sexy Dracula. Because Peter himself was tall and rugged, it was pretty damn weird to be treated as waifish.
This dude was hot as blazes, though. Kissing him was like making out with pop rocks with the word chemicals on his tongue. Sexy, sturdy pop rocks.
Peter decided it was time to stop drinking.
The man pulled away to breathe heavily. “There’s a passageway over there. I know we’re in public, but I find your mannerisms irresistible.”
“Fuck yeah, man. Let’s do it.”
The man pushed him into the narrow passage which wasn’t at all big enough for the both of them. This wasn’t a problem for Peter, who loved the sigh of clothes as they struggled to stand chest to chest. He was hard and grinding into the man’s reproductive organs. Whatever shape they were in, they writhed deliciously.
They kissed more. Peter discovered the man’s tongue was bifurcated at the end.
Peter shuddered, grunting into his mouth. “I want you inside me.”
This nice guy laughed and obliged by pushing his tongue further between Peter’s lips. It extended much longer than Peter’s and pushed at the back of his throat which, okay, weird, but you know what? It eased down sort of nice and slick, like. Like it was leaking precum.
Peter still motioned to his hips, though.
When the guy noticed, he obliged. His very tactile manhood pushed out from the opening of his crotch covering and reached around to stroke Peter’s ass through his pants.
Fuck, this was amazing. Peter tried to laugh but it came out as sort of a choked whine.
The guy abruptly stopped. He pulled his tongue out of Peter’s mouth, which made a pornographic squelch as it was removed. “Why are you not also extending your mouth sexual organ?”
Peter gave a wink. “The only sexual organ in my head is my tongue.”
“Your tongue? That’s all?”
“It’s all I need to chat you up and lick you down.” Peter’s eyes wandered over the guy’s abs.
The man looked disturbed. “My apologies, but I thought we were of a more closely related species. You don’t have a second tongue that excretes fluids besides spit, do you?”
“Nah, but I can work with what I got, cutie.” Peter winked again, harder.
Now the guy looked at Peter’s waist. “Is that your chief sexual organ?”
Peter nodded quickly. “Yup! Wanna see?” He was a fan of showing his dick to potential lovers. Xandarian phalluses looked similar, except for the ribbed skin and the fact the scrotum was somehow inside the dudes, but as far as he knew, Terran dicks were unique and majestic in this part of the galaxy. He had seduced more than a couple curious individuals with the words, “See for yourself.”
The guy acquiesced, as well, but when Peter fumbled with his belt and pulled out the goods, his potential fuck pal looked even more distressed. “But where’s the feelers? And why does it look so stiff?”
“It doesn’t do most of the bendy stuff. I actually don’t recommend trying to make it, ‘cause it kind of hurts.” Peter gave an apologetic smile.
“I didn’t know you were handicapped in this way.”
“It can do stuff.”
“I see you have some hair clinging to the base of your reproductive organ.”
“What race are you?”
“Terran. We’re pretty far away from my home world, though.”
“Good.” The man gathered his cape around him, hiding his spectacular abs from view. “I would not like to risk running into another member of your people and their meager assets while I continue abroad.”
The guy crushed Peter as he squeezed out of their hidey-hole. It was all pretty fucking rude.
Peter shouted after him. “Yeah, well, you’ve got some pretty meager assets, yourself!”
He didn’t seem to hear.
Peter had another drink after that. Then another. The bartender, who appeared to overhear everything, looked embarrassed for him. The other patrons stared at Peter but no one else approached.
He drank more.
Not for the first time, Peter went on a long, lonely walk back to the Milano. He was at the bad part of drunk where he was filled with a deep, dark loneliness. It was the sort of melancholy that, once you started thinking about it, had no bottom.
Some days he wondered if he should pack it in and head back to Terra. Nobody out here understood his references to Star Wars, anyways.
But if he did find a way to return, be with his own kind, what guarantee would he have that he would blend in with them? He had had too many experiences in too many different parts of the universe. He certainly didn’t have a high school degree, which he vaguely remembered was the thing that helped you get a job. At best, he would be an eccentric janitor; at worst, a crazy bum wandering the street with no money, friends, or connections of any kind. Terra would be more isolating than anything.
The lights of the station melted into long, glowing brush strokes. His eyes itched with tears.
It didn’t help matters when he saw Drax and Gamora on the couch. He sat up and she was draped over his lap, stretched so that her back was to his knees. Her legs were crossed and her hair ran loose and dark like a river. They weren’t making out, at least not yet, but they were talking too urgently to hear him come in.
Drax ran his fingers through that hair. “It’s nice,” he murmured. “Very beautiful.”
Gamora smiled, her eyes squinting up prettily. “Thank you.”
The worst thing about Rocket was that he was often right.
Peter figured they were, like, five seconds from mashing mouths and bumping uglies, so it made sense to avoid them. It also made sense, at least to him, to avoid his own room and head to Drax’s. He wouldn’t be using it for a few hours, Peter reasoned. They were probably glued to the couch. And Peter’s own room would be so empty right now, you know?
Yeah. Definitely. It all made sense. He wasn’t totally wasted.
Peter woke up face down in the sheets of Drax’s bed, what, a few hours later? The sheets smelled freshly washed.
Unlike his own room, Drax’s bed had a window sitting right next to the mattress. It looked out onto the icy stars as they passed them. Other than that, the room was practically empty except for another chair.
Peter looked around and there was Drax in that chair, watching him.
Panicking, Peter scrambled backward. His legs splayed open. “Oh man—I didn’t—This is your bed. Ah, damn, no, I didn’t mean to grab it from you like that.”
“And I didn’t mean to wake you,” Drax said. “You may sleep here longer, if you wish.”
“Sure, sure, yeah.” The sheets sighed as Peter tried to sit up more readily. “That’s a pretty dumb thing, to come into your room without your permission and, like, sleep on your stuff.”
“I don’t mind.”
“You should totally mind! I came in here and violated your privacy.”
“Did you? I thought you had come for solace of some sort.”
Peter’s face went hot. “No! No.”
“Kind of, I guess?”
“What do you mean by, ‘Kind of’?”
“There was a guy at the bar.”
“He was awful.”
Drax got up from the chair and put a knee on the bed. It gave a little under his weight. “How?”
“He and I made out a bit and I was trying to seal the deal—er, fuck him.” Peter watched Drax bring his other knee onto the bed. It creaked. “Then he started talking about how ugly and weird my mouth and dick are.”
Drax took Peter’s chin in his hand and let his thumb ghost over Peter’s lips. “Your mouth is very pretty as far as I can tell. I have not seen your phallus so could not confirm otherwise.”
The thumb was rough and cool. Peter thought of Gamora and was ashamed. On the couch, she had looked happy. He still closed his eyes and sighed, though, because he was a man of bad habits. “It would be pretty easy to change that.”
“Seeing your member would satisfy a good deal of my curiosity.” Drax removed his hand. “Unfortunately, it would not be fair.”
“As much as I dig this? Yeah, it really wouldn’t. Also, I’m a little drunk. I make bad decisions when I’m even a little drunk.”
Drax, however, did not move. “You ‘dig’ this? What are you digging?”
“It means, ‘I like this.’”
“A curious metaphor. But my presence doesn’t bother you?”
“I like being here, in your bed, way too much. That’s the problem.” Peter felt weak. Warm inside, but weak.
Drax leaned closer. His breath was hot against Peter’s mouth. “Perhaps I would just console you for a little while.”
Fuck, he thought. “But what about Gamora? I saw you on the couch with her.”
“We were there, yes.” After a moment, Drax seemed to come to a realization. “Did you think we had become intimate?”
Peter nodded. He was drunk and horny and sad.
“Because I asked her,” Drax went on. “And we talked. She said ‘no,’ that she would be more likely to come to my bed if I used kind, beguiling words. Then I told her what I liked best about her. She told me what she liked best about me. After, we agreed to continue our friendship as it has been.”
Tears started to run down Peter’s face. He was pathetically relieved. Quickly and with shaking hands, he tried to wipe them away. He could feel some snot in his nose, too. “That’s good. That’s really good. I’m glad I’m not making you cheat on her.”
Peter was surprised when Drax pressed their foreheads together. His skin was cool. “Don’t think of anyone else, right now. Let me provide you comfort.”
Peter cracked a smile. “I don’t deserve it."
“You do.” Drax pressed his lips to Peter’s. It was chaste.
Keeping his eyes open, Peter savored that kiss. “I just had a bad night. That’s all. I’ll get over it.”
“You are vulnerable in heart and strong in battle.” Drax pressed him onto his back slowly. His eyes were liquid dark in the low light. “You don’t deserve bad nights. You are worthy of kindness. You are simply worthy.”
Peter’s shoulders hit the mattress. The moon near the space port had apparently risen, because the entire room had a soft, blue light. It gave Drax’s skin a pearly sheen. Peter wrapped his legs around him and pulled him forward for another kiss, his hips undulating and needy.
They ground together through their clothes. It was good to know Drax, as he suspected, had sexual organs on the outside of his body. He had a place to start.
Peter hesitated, though, instead exploring Drax’s ridged tattoos. He ran his fingers along the edges. It must have been a long scarification process.
Drax was the one who pushed their lovemaking forward. He kissed along Peter’s chin and down his throat. His hand ghosted up Peter’s shirt to stroke his stomach, paused wonderingly at the hair over his belly button. “Strange. Beautiful, but strange.” He followed the trail down and Peter moaned when he pushed past the waist of his pants and cupped his manhood through his underwear.
Smiling, Drax squeezed.
Peter bucked. He bit his own lip and tried to make it sexy, but he wanted it so badly, and when he wanted to be fucked, he knew his face looked scrunched up and desperate. “You want me?”
Drax paused to reach up and kiss his forehead. “You are wanted.” Then he pushed his knuckle against Peter’s pants, right against his hole. “And I wish to fuck you as well.”
Peter laughed and pushed down his underwear, just enough so Drax could see the tube of his cock, from the hair at the base to the spongy mushroom head. “Promise you won’t run?”
“I never run.” Drax contemplated Peter’s junk, the cock standing up straight in a nest of dark curls. He ran his fingers over the head, the tip with its bit of come sitting like a pearl on the slit. “And why would I run from such a sight?”
“Mm. That feels good.”
Drax ran his knuckles along the large vein on the side of his length. “You are so pliant. It would be a pity if I were to just stop here tonight.”
“Then don’t. Fuck me.”
Drax’s eyes were so bright in the dark. “Show me. I know where your hole is, but I wish you to demonstrate.”
Peter pulled his underwear off his legs. He lifted his hips to show Drax his hole, pulling open the puckered skin. “Think you can fit?”
“Let’s see.” Without any pause, Drax pushed his fingertip into Peter.
The pressure was practiced, a shock but delicious. Peter moaned.
“I suppose you meant my manhood, though.” Drax just, ugh, he fucking played with the hole. In and out with his finger, massaging the tender skin. “It has elasticity.”
Peter worked himself into a frenzy, pushing against that intrusion. Come here, damn it. Right inside him. He wanted this. He wanted to prove his useless space ass was good for something besides being kicked around.
“It’s hot inside, the texture of crushed velvet.”
“More. Fuck me more.”
Drax laughed. “Let me show you what I have.”
It was certainly something. Drax’s cock was nearly, but not quite, the length of a forearm, though thinner and ringed with white scales and bifurcated at the top. It tapered into pinkness, sort of like a pair of tongues.
“You have a double penis?”
“Just the one. It’s what sex organs on my planet look like.”
They compared. Peter took both their cocks in hand and let them slide together. He bucked his hips and rolled his eyes back. The scales were smooth.
Drax smiled but it seemed to do less for him. “My cock sheath is not overly sensitive.”
“Then let me be your cock sheath.”
“What? I already have a place to hold my male reproductive organ.” Drax paused and studied Peter’s hole. “Ah. I see.”
Peter realized, though, that the mechanics were more complex than he thought. He measured Drax’s dick and then tried to figure out how far it would get inside him. Far, he thought, red faced.
“Okay, we need lubricant,” he said.
Drax pressed a kiss to his face. “We need more than that. You will need water to hydrate, for once I penetrate you, I may not stop my fevered fucking of your body for a long time.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“If I am not careful, I might end up continuing to fuck your hole even if you pass out.”
Drax stilled. “That does not terrify you?”
“Going unconscious with a cock in me and waking back up to a nice fuck? I’m game.”
“People have come close to death from exhaustion.”
“What a way to go!”
“I come a lot.” Drax looked embarrassed.
“Then make me a come receptacle. I want to be filled with so much of your seed, it leaks out of me as you fuck me. I want you to wrestle me still again and again as I take it.”
Drax’s eyes were dark with fire. “You wish many things. It may cause you pain.”
And Drax was right because, man, dude was huge. But Peter was also sad and teary and stupid and drunk on the way the blue moonlight picked out his tattoos.
“Then I’ll take it.” He breathed. “Fuck my hole like I’m in heat, too.”
Drax exhaled. Then he leaned over his bed and reached under it. When he came back up, he had a tube. “Lubricate yourself. Use your fingers. I want to see you pleasuring yourself when I return.”
Peter obliged. He used one finger inside him first, savoring the sweet burn before he poured on the lube. It swam over his fingers, wet and just watery enough to make him suspect Drax’s cock might just slip inside him without a great deal of fuss.
When Drax returned carrying a bottle of water, Peter’s legs were spread. His lips were parted and his eyes rolled back as he had two fingers inside him, riding them like he was praying. Peter tried to think of a good, sexy, euphemism that would be obvious enough for even someone like Drax, but all he managed was, “Please.”
Drax didn’t need much more than that. He fell on Peter, kissing him savagely, bruising his mouth and jaw. He then turned him onto his stomach. His hands were large, efficient, and sure. He nuzzled the nape of Peter’s neck briefly as he slipped the lubricant out of his hands.
Then Peter was entered. He exhaled as the cockhead breached his body. It was followed by Drax’s finger, now lube-wet and sliding along beside it.
The moan that escaped Peter’s throat was embarrassing. “Yes, yes, inside me.”
Drax’s cock began to push in and out of Peter, entering a little more deeply each time. Peter tried to push back, but it was a better angle when Drax was doing it.
He tried to help Peter. “Pay attention to my rhythm.”
Drax’s cock pummeled him, pushing him down into the bed again and again. It was like Peter’s body was tied down to a sandy shore as the waves hit him. It didn’t stop.
He was being fucked by a person but he was also being fucked in the haze of Drax’s heat, a force of nature.
Peter lost it. He came, cum jetting out of his cock onto the sheets.
Drax kept going and the idea he would never stop made Peter roll his eyes back. He wanted to be a part of this. He wanted to be more tool than man, better than the sum of himself.
Maybe it was minutes that passed, maybe hours, a drunken meditative state where there was nothing to feel but being fucked, but Peter became hard again.
Again, he came.
Drax kept going. There was a wetness building up inside his hole. Drax never moaned, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t coming.
Peter wasn’t sure if he passed out truly during the course of their fucking or not, but he came back to himself when Drax pulled him up by his hair. He felt water splash into his mouth, roll down his face, into the groove of his neck, and sluice down his chest.
“Hydration,” Drax murmured. “Let me take care of you.”
Sitting up like that, wet and well fucked, Peter began to impale himself Drax’s bloated cock like a fiend. All this time, and he was still hard. “More.”
Drax could not, would not deny him.
Peter opened his eyes and immediately felt the ache of his bruises. He looked down at his hips and thighs, waiting to see the purpled finger prints, and saw Drax’s own legs wrapped with his. From the deepness of his breathing, he was asleep.
Feeling sheepish, Peter rolled away from him, which was when he felt the softened cock slip out of his hole. Then came a wash of wet cum that dripped from his ass. His hole was sore and drooled, which was utterly intimate and made Peter moan. He probed himself to see how much it ached. That felt good, too.
Drax woke. “You have made me more tired than I can say.”
“Me?” Peter cracked a smiled. “You fucked me like you were…uh. You fucked me really hard and good.”
Drax rubbed his eyes sleepily. “I’m unsure if I could do it again with such precision. You kept begging for more and I felt inadequate to sate your need.”
Peter laughed. “Oh my God. It felt so good. You have no idea. I needed that so badly.”
He sat up. “I know you came to me of your own volition, but I understand you were influenced to do so because I said I needed to have a partner.”
“A bit, I guess.”
“The truth, however, is that I have survived many heats without mating. I have perhaps become more frustrated and short of temper, but I would have survived without taking advantage of your state.”
Peter saw Drax’s guilt. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I came to you, okay? I wanted that. I asked. I’d ask again.”
“I am too tired at the moment to give it to you again.”
“But you wouldn’t mind it happening again.” Peter chose that moment to adjust his thighs, letting the cum in his hole leak out a bit more.
“Beautiful.” He took Peter by the shoulders and kissed him.
Peter laughed into his mouth and kissed him back.