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Put That Thing Back Where it Came From (Or so help me)

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It took ages before Doc would take the catheter out, and another two days after that before she'd let him go finish convalescing in Yondu's cabin.  They were some of the most boring days of his life.  Yondu was busy with the ship.  Peter was actually learning some jobs from one of the few crew members who didn't just try to space him or eat him upon seeing him.  

Kraglin had been really lonely.  

His species were pretty solitary, as a rule.  They didn't do group living very well.  Even adults who had kids in common rarely lived together.  They lived nearby and the children wandered back and forth between their homes, never really settling into either place until they struck out on their own.  Kraglin had always thought that was just how he'd live his life.  He'd find himself a little corner of a corridor somewhere and sleep there.  He'd do his job every day like he was supposed to.  He'd be a good Ravager.  

It had worked for him better than barracks, that was for sure.  Barracks living had been one of the worst things ever to happen to him.  He'd felt stifled and crushed and cornered.

Being lonely was a novelty.  Missing sleeping next to someone was a complete change for him.  He tried to chalk it up to a lack of sex, but the one time he tried jerking off when Doc left him alone to go get food, he couldn't even get it up yet.  He was still too badly hurt.

He just missed Yondu.  He didn't know what to do with that.  He couldn't really say anything.  It wasn't like there was any acceptable way to say to your best friend/boss/fuckbuddy 'oh, hey, I just want to sleep next to you and hear you breathing'.  That was what he wanted, though.  He just wanted to lie there and be near Yondu.

It was disgusting.  He didn't know how to stop it.  He didn't know how to make it go away.  He just knew what he wanted.

He decided to chalk it up to the injuries and the painkillers.  They were making him needy and clingy and stupid.  It was to be expected, after all.  That was how being injured worked.  It made you a baby.

Still, it was a relief when Yondu held onto his elbow and helped him hobble down the corridors to a familiar bed and a familiar room.  Just Yondu's hand on his elbow helped as much as putting on his regular clothes, though he was the first to admit his regular clothes were fucking incredible after laying naked but for scratchy blankets in a med-bay bed for so long.

It was also really nice to be allowed to go to the bathroom rather than having a tube up his dick.  He really wasn't a fan of tubes up his dick.  He wasn't a fan of having to piss four times a day, but he'd take it over the tube.  He'd even take the rehydration shots in the port that Doc refused to take out yet.

He was going home.  He hadn't been back in Yondu's room, except for his cleaning fits, since the cunt revelation. It was weird how much it felt like going home though.  He felt warm and he had a bounce in his step that Doc had yelled at him over--don't make your organs swing around when you walk, you fucking moron.

Yondu was quiet in the hallways.  He wasn't silent.  Yondu would never be silent about anything.  Having to help someone do something was always going to make him bitch and complain under his breath.  But he was quieter about it than he usually was, and that was definitely something.  Kraglin was a little flattered.

The brat was sitting up in his hammock in Yondu's cabin, because of course he was.  Kraglin momentarily thought about getting irritated, but the bed was right there and it looked so warm and soft and cozy.  He sat on it.

"You're not stuck in med-bay anymore, huh?" Peter asked.

"Nah."  Kraglin pressed his hands down into the soft furs.  They were so nice, so familiar.  There was a pressure in his chest and he tried to ignore it.

"They take out your dick-tube?"

"Yeah."

Peter nodded.  "Good.  That wasn't right.  Yondu says I have to stay here with you and get you anything you want."

"What if what I want is to not have to see any Terrans?"

Peter thought about it a second, then disappeared in the hammock.  It wasn't as good as having him leave the room and not be in Kraglin's immediate presence, but Kraglin was willing to take it.  He lowered himself back to lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.

It even smelled right.  There was a faint scent of soap from when he'd cleaned Yondu's bedding, but the bed smelled like Yondu and even, just a little, of Kraglin.  He'd slept there so long that a little of his own scent had been permanently absorbed by the furs.  It was his, in a way very few things had ever been.

A warm weight hit the furs next to him, bowing the mattress downwards and Kraglin opened his eyes to see Yondu staring at him.  "You all right?"

"Yeah."  Kraglin shifted a little and let Yondu's greater mass pull him down the slope into his divot.  

"You look weird."

Kraglin shrugged, pressing his side against Yondu's.  "Yeah.  Probably.  Always looked weird, ain't I?"

"Different weird.  Weirder."

"It's cause his hair's growing out," Peter said from the hammock.

"Shut up!" Yondu and Kraglin chorused instantly.

"I don't look weird," Kraglin said, a little softer.

"Pretty sure you look weird.  I know what weird looks like."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah.  Something wrong?"

Kraglin shook his head.  "Nah.  I'm fine."

"Good," Yondu said.

Kraglin smiled and closed his eyes.  Yondu's breathing was steady and calm.  One of his hands shifted to rest on Kraglin's thigh, comforting and still.  There was a soft hiss from Yondu's nether regions and a foul stench started to drift through the cabin.

Kraglin gagged.  Peter wailed.

Kraglin was home.