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raendown · 3 years

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A story for @insaneflowergirl as part of the @madatobigiftexchange! Only took me six days to realize it’s June. A grand improvement over the last couple months. xD

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4049 Rated: T+ Fandom: Naruto Summary: Trapped together by an avalanche in the middle of a mission, Madara and Tobirama make a passing attempt at dealing with the discovery that they are soulmates. And also the discovery that there is only one bed to share for the night.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Warmth in Winter Hearts

“I don’t suppose if I happened to suggest laying down to rest you might actually listen?”

“You’re not my mother!”

Tobirama pressed the bridge of his nose tightly between two fingers and breathed slowly. “Gods but I hope not. I have neither the parts nor the patience for that.”

Across the cavern Madara scowled, looking very much like he was only moments away from sticking out his tongue. If he were perfectly honest Tobirama would not have been surprised in the least to see that sort of childish behavior after the emotionally taxing week they’d been going through. Getting put on a mission together was bad enough; they fought like cats and dogs in the tower with separate offices to retreat to, how Hashirama expected them to survive an entire month out here in the wilderness together was a mystery. Yet the worst part had to be getting snowed in separate from the man they were meant to be escorting with no way to make sure the idiot was still alive.

“When we get out of here,” Madara growled, “I’m going to tear out that asshole’s hair strand by strand.”

“I’m not sure how much of a threat that is.”

“Excuse you, that is a terrifying threat.”

“Not everyone is as attached to their hair as you are,” Tobirama pointed out.

He was already turning away to build up the meager fire he’d hastily thrown together upon realizing they were trapped in here. Still, he could practically feel the weight of dark eyes glaring at him from across the cave, probably staring at the back of head and judging the hair that he kept short purely for utilitarian purposes. If he hadn’t looked so ridiculous the one time he’d shaved it all off he would just do away with the stuff all together. What good did hair really do him? Not much. If his head got cold he could always throw on a hat. Beyond that he’d never found much of a use for it.

“Maybe if you took better care of yours then you’d understand.”

“I very much doubt that,” Tobirama murmured under his breath.

The glaring intensified but he refused to take the bait. Feeding the fire and making sure they stayed warm throughout the night was much more important than tending to the quicksilver emotions of a man who, until today, had been nothing but a thorn in his side at every turn. If not for this blasted mission he never would have been anything else. Tobirama closed his eyes and counted his breaths in and out, in and out, slowly, evenly, searching for the calm balance that so many people mistook for unfeeling cold. It hadn’t been so difficult to center himself in years.

As much as he tried, however, calm remained far beyond his reach. He could keep a placid expression for the idiot across the room but on the inside his emotions were tumbling over each other like a business of ferrets all fighting over the same morsel of food. They were soulmates. Even in his own head that felt strange to admit. So many years spent glaring across the battlefield, several more glaring across council tables and mokuton sturdy desks, only now to discover their connection mere hours before they got themselves trapped inside a system of caves by nothing more than a raging blizzard. Honestly if he weren’t so angry at the timing of it all Tobirama might have been impressed by the sheer volume of snow Mother Nature had seen fit to dump over their heads without warning. More so than the weather he was angry at their client. When he’d told that fool to stay close it had been for his own safety, not to ruffle his overinflated ego without reason. Now he’d trapped himself somewhere else in these caves by dashing off just before an avalanche of snow collapsed over the entrance. Madara had offered to melt through it all but there was little point. There would always be more to come down on top.

Either their client would be dead of cold in the morning or he wouldn’t. Being here with them wouldn’t do much to change that outcome when he’d already declared that he would rather freeze to death than seek body heat from, in his words, lowly shinobi types. Tobirama would rather lose the income from this mission than let such an asshole touch him after words like that.

“Ugh.” Behind him Madara sniffed a couple of times. “These smell terrible.”

“Probably because you’re still bleeding inside them.” Tobirama didn’t even need to turn around to know what the other was talking about. He’d wrapped those bandages himself only hours before.

“I should probably change them. But it’s so cold…”

Standing up to brush the snow from his knees, Tobirama nodded shortly. “Cold indeed. An excellent excuse not to care for your wounds. I’ll be sure to share that one with Izuna when he asks how I could allow you to come home with blood poisoning.”

A smile flickered across his face when the snuffling turned in to barely muted grumbling, probably a bad mockery of him since that was usually Madara’s last defense against being told to do something he already knew he should have been doing. It only took another minute or two of waiting before heavy footsteps were thumping across the snow-dusted rock to pause just at his back. The hand that shoved itself in to his view looked like some child’s imaginative drawing of a zombie, covered as it was in off-white linen turned black in some places with drying blood.

“If you’re so worried for me then do something about it yourself!”

“Use your manners if you want help.”

“Fuck you!” Madara snatched his hand back. When Tobirama looked he was cradling it to his chest with a pout that looked all the more ridiculous than usual when set above a full suit of battle-worn armor. “I’ll just do it myself then!”

“Will you now?”

A raised eyebrow sent his companion storming off to where they had scraped the snow off a few square feet of ground. Dark mutterings made a lovely background tune as Madara dug through both of their packs trying to find the rest of their medical supplies. When he found them he gave a vicious little noise of triumph and then flopped down on to a nearby rock to pick at the knot on the back of his injured hand. It was hardly the only injury either of them had suffered during the past week of escorting their jittery client through one of the most dangerous sections of the border with Yugakure, just the most serious since it hampered the grip Madara needed on his infamous gunbai. He’d trained himself to use the other hand like most shinobi did but his effectiveness in battle was markedly different when doing so, forcing Tobirama to take point constantly rather than switching out by turns.

“Don’t forget the ointment,” Tobirama called over helpfully, not bothering to hide a snicker when Madara lifted his head to glare in response.

“I know that!”

“Ah so you were leaving it behind in the pack, what, to keep it warm?”

Madara tore off a strip of bandage and hauled it ineffectually through the air, shouting, “Leave me alone!”

He should. In truth he really should leave the man alone. Both of them needed a little time to process the discovery of their unexpected connection. Unfortunately Tobirama didn’t have nearly half the interpersonal skills his brother did, he’d never really learned when to leave well enough alone, so instead of giving them both a little space he watched the fluttering bandage until it hit the ground and then lifted his face with a smirk.

“Very effective. I’m all but shaking in my boots.”

“You will be if you ever let me catch you on the training fields alone!”

“Go on then, we’re alone right now.”

“Fuck off!” Madara grunted.

Tobirama peeked over his shoulder to make sure the fire wasn’t going to collapse on itself and then turned back to his mission partner. “I don’t think I will. You are literally my only entertainment right now.”

“I am not your entertainment!”

“No, you’re right. You’re more like a natural disaster that I just can’t help watching. It’s human nature, you know? Like a morbid curiosity.”

Even as he spoke the words he knew he was being an ass but, as he’d said, it wasn’t like there was much else for him to do in this godforsaken cave. He might as well get a few licks in while he still had the energy. Watching Madara’s ears turn red with anger was just as fascinating as it had ever been, though having to force his mind away from examining why he was so fascinated was new.

“If anyone here is morbid it’s you!”

“Well I’m not denying that.”

“Be more insulted!” Madara screeched. “I hate when you do that!”

Tobirama folded his arms and lifted one hand to tap at his chin. “Do what, pray tell?”

“You’re always so fucking unflappable! Just- just- it isn’t fair! Be...flapped! Or something!”

“Flapped?” He’d never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. It was perfectly reasonable that he should throw his head back and start laughing, thoroughly amused by his companion’s loss for words. Madara didn’t seem to appreciate his reaction but really that wasn’t far out of the ordinary. For the most part Madara had never seemed to appreciate much about him at all and until recently that hadn’t exactly bothered him.

Right now the only thing flapping was Madara’s jaw as the man tried several times to come up with a response, any response at all. In the end he simply tossed the end of the bandage roll in Tobirama’s direction with lethal force and snatched the closest bedroll, storming off to spread it out across the space kicked free of snow.

It was a shame to have his entertainment taken away so quickly, even more of a shame to know that if he also tried to bed down right now the only spot to do so would be within range of Madara’s vengeful hands, so Tobirama was left very suddenly with the echoes of his own laughter and little else. The grin on his face turned rapidly in to a scowl. Patient he might be when the situation called for it but he’d never been a fan of keeping the company of his own thoughts. Books were much more pleasant. Much less likely to spiral out of control in to dangerous places or earn him another lecture from his older brother. Not having his library at hand was certainly the worst part of any mission he’d ever taken, filled as they usually were with down time in which he had little to do but plan his next move or stare aimlessly at the surroundings.

As much as it would probably be more interesting to wander off and explore how far back these caves actually went he didn’t think it was in his best interests to take the chance at getting lost. If nothing else Madara would definitely tell on him when they got back to the village.

For a minute or so their little cavern was filled with the rustling of Madara settling himself down to sleep, wrenching the blankets off again when he realized he hadn’t put away all the medical supplies, then fussing at them to cover himself a second time. Once he finally settled down for good there was nothing but the sound of the fire crackling merrily away. Sealed off as they were from the rest of the world, the fire was their only source of light. If not for the fact that the caves obviously went pretty deep in to the mountain it would have been a very poor idea indeed to let it keep burning away all their oxygen. Tobirama was grateful he didn’t need to put it out. Aside from giving him something to listen to besides the inside of his own head it also gave him something to look at. Or rather it gave him a bit of light by which to stare off in his partner’s direction, studying the length of Madara's body and the shapes he made under the regulation wool blanket.

Not a good idea. Definitely not a good idea. Tobirama jerked his eyes away as soon as he realized what he was doing. Better if there had been no fire. He’d rather be blind for lack of light and leave himself at the mercy of the Sharingan for seeing any possible threats than to sit here and stare across the snowy rock like some lovelorn maiden. No matter what discoveries had been made that day they were not some pair of star crossed lovers. There was no need for whatever dramatics his face had just been doing.

Digging both hands in to his eyes with a sigh, Tobirama decided it was probably best if he just went to sleep too. It was still too early for him to be very tired but falling asleep would at least stop him from following wherever the hell his thoughts had just been trying to go. Somewhere much too thespian for his tastes. He wasn't his brother, after all, there was no need for him to sit here and analyze his feelings or some other such nonsense. If the fire burnt down while they slept and he woke to darkness, well, he did still have Madara with him; just because he was rightfully leery of the Sharingan’s powers didn’t mean he was above taking advantage of them when he needed to. Perhaps a little mean when the man was injured by, hey, he wasn’t the one who could see in the dark and that was hardly his own fault.

Another sigh caught at the edges of his teeth and slipped out sounding more like a hiss when he pushed himself up on to his feet, striding over towards their packs with careful footsteps. There was no telling what sort of uneven ground could be hiding under all this snow. So far away from the dancing flames his already poor vision was even worse so at first Tobirama assumed that Madara had simply kicked everything out of place while looking for the bandages. It wasn’t until he gathered all of the packs together and dug through every one of them that he realized one very important item was missing.

His eyes snapped over to the prone figure only feet away. Madara lay stretched out and perfectly still on top of his bed roll. Or, more accurately, the only bedroll. In all the kerfuffle of their client running off and the avalanche trapping them in it appeared they had lost not only some of the food they’d been carrying but also their second sleeping mat.

If not for the snow on the ground it wouldn’t have been such a big deal. He still had a blanket and it wasn’t like he’d never bedded down for the night without something comfortable to lie on, catching a few hours up a tree whenever he had to and doing so without complaint. The problem was that lying down on frozen rock had only one outcome and with both of them already injured in various ways he certainly couldn’t take the risk of waking up with pneumonia when there was a perfectly viable - if crushingly embarrassing - solution snoozing peacefully right there. He really hoped Madara wasn’t too comfy just yet.

“What?” his partner snarled when he was nudged lightly with one foot.

“Shove over,” Tobirama demanded.

“The fuck? There is literally a whole cave of space, go make your bed somewhere else.”

“Can’t. I have to share your bed so shove over, Uchiha.”

Madara snapped upright so fast they both heard something in his back pop, though neither paid it much attention. “You fucking what now?”

“There appears to be a distinct lack of a second bedroll anywhere so unless you want me sneezing all over your bandages when I inevitably have to change them you will shove the hell over.” Tobirama crossed both arms over his chest like they could hold in all the confusing emotions trying very hard to bubble their way to the surface.

He wasn’t sure what to think of the way Madara’s jaw hung open wordlessly, couldn’t properly make out the nuances of that expression without more light to see by. Maybe if he weren’t standing at such an angle as to throw the other man in shadow- but to step aside now so he could see better would be to admit how bad his eyes really were and that was a weakness he’d never bothered to share even with his own brother. He settled instead for standing his ground until that rounded jaw snapped shut again for Madara to harrumph loudly.

“Fucking- are you serious? This is ridiculous! Where did the other bedroll go?”

“Probably lost in the snow somewhere but I would honestly much rather be sleeping right now than trying to guess at things I may never have an answer to. So. Shove. Over. I will not say it again.”

Ignoring Madara’s voice shouting in his ear was as easy as tuning him out, a feat barely comparable to the task of tuning out Hashirama in the middle of high drama. Tobirama untied his armor and set it all aside carefully. By the time he turned back he noticed that, although the screaming hadn’t so much as paused, Madara had gone ahead and moved over a few inches anyway. He did give vent to a few choked noises when Tobirama slid in under the covers with him but it wasn’t difficult to parse out why. Tobirama was still up on one elbow when he paused to examine their situation.

Which way was he supposed to face? They would both be warmer if he faced inwards and curled himself around Madara’s back but such a position felt much too intimate. Facing away from each other would be blessedly less intimate but there wasn’t exactly a whole lot of space on the mat beneath them and it would take only a single shift for one of them to roll away from the other, taking all the blankets with them. Sleeping on his back was generally the way he preferred but, again, space was the main issue. He would have to lay half on the snow to do that.

“Just...just pick something and go to sleep,” Madara grumbled.

“Eager to cuddle?” Tobirama snapped at him, a response born more of habit than any particular ire.

“Fuck off!”

Just for that Tobirama slumped down on to his right side and made sure to curl in as close as possible, grinning viciously to himself as the other man stiffened noticeably. He himself was far from immune to the awkwardness but petty spite had always driven him faster than any care for his own comfort. If Madara hated this then he would lie here awake all night before he rolled over to make them both comfortable.

It would have been nice, he admitted silently after several minutes, having enough mercy in his soul to relent and just roll over. Tomorrow promised to be an absolute bastard of a day, not least because the task of digging them out of this place would undoubtedly fall mostly on his own shoulders. He definitely could use some rest before tackling that. Instead he lay there with eyes wide open staring at the back of Madara’s head and wondering what reactions he might get if he pulled on some of that bristling hair. Almost as though the man could hear his thoughts Madara curled in to himself a little tighter. The movement was an innocent one. The way it pushed Madara’s rump in to the cradle of Tobirama’s hips was most decidedly not an innocent result even if it was obviously unintentional.

“Nnngg!?”

“Very intelligent,” Tobirama breathed, not wanting to speak louder for fear the sudden rush of want running through him might be heard in his voice.

“That wasn’t- I didn’t- fuck off, Senju!”

“I will have you know that it is taking all of my energy not to instinctually respond with an implication you would rather I fuck you instead.”

Madara’s screech could probably be heard through the several feet of snow blocking their cave entrance. “It doesn’t count if you still say it you idiot!”

Yet for all the screaming protests he went on to ring both of their ears with, Madara’s reaction notably lacked one thing. He never once tried to move away. Oh he waved the arm he wasn’t lying on and jawed until Tobirama began to wonder if he wasn’t wearing down the bones of his own skull from overuse but not once did he so much as tilt his hips in to a different position.

Such telling body language gave Tobirama all the clues he needed to figure out exactly what he’d missed in their earlier conversation. It was possible these types of clues were something he’d been missing in all of their past interactions, body language he never noticed simply because he tried to look at the other man as little as possible. To his shame such a habit had been built entirely on the premise that Madara hated it when people didn’t pay attention to him. From now on he promised himself he would pay closer attention - even if he might not let Madara see such efforts. Just because he was begrudgingly interested didn’t mean he was willing to set that spite down just yet. Some habits took longer to break than others.

And some would never fade but maybe that was more of a personal failing than anything else.

“White flag.” The words were out and hanging in the air before Tobirama even realized his mouth had decided to speak before his brain had a proper sentence ready. In front of him Madara stiffened impossibly further.

“The hell are you on about?”

“I...am waving a white flag. We both need rest. This is, ah, comfortable enough. Let’s just put any further arguments or conversations on hold until tomorrow and go to sleep.”��

Madara seemed to chew that over for a moment until he asked very quietly, “Like this?”

“I am comfortable if you are.”

He half expected to have the man roll over and deck him in the face for such presumptions. When the silence began to stretch he wondered if he was meant to take it as agreement until he heard very quiet words drift back to caress his ears, a softer sound than he had ever heard from this man in his life.

“Your arms’ll go numb sleeping like that. Might as well...might as well stretch them out.”

“Ah. I didn’t presume-”

Tobirama cleared his throat before very carefully shifting back to make room for where both of his arms were folded tightly against Madara’s back. When he stretched one out neither of them said anything about Madara lifting his head to make room for it beneath the pillow they shared. And when he stretched the other out with very delicate movements they both remained utterly silent as he laid it gently across Madara’s waist.

It was the subtle relaxing of all the muscles pressed up against his front that finally made everything click. Oh but he was a blind man. A very blind man with terrible vision to boot. If anyone asked he was going to blame every misunderstanding on the man in his arms with zero shame.

Tomorrow they would wake to fight their way past the snow and put in at least a token effort to find their wayward client. Somewhere along the way they would search for the supplies that got lost in the shuffle. But as he closed his eyes Tobirama smiled to realize neither one of them was likely to put a whole lot of work in to finding that second bedroll they had lost, not when it seemed their newly discovered bond was something Madara wanted much more than he’d let on before.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #soulmate au #fanfiction #madatobi gift exchange 2021

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bevioletskies · 7 years

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20 questions [16/20]

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 school festival commences, yondu gets some horrifying news, and peter and gamora discuss what love means to them.

word count: 5889 | total word count: 118k

a/n: chapters 15 through 17, also known as the chapters where peter and gamora watch the entire original star wars trilogy. yay?

ao3 | previously | next | masterpost

Unfortunately for Gamora, ever since she and Peter had passed Natasha’s little test, it seemed as if her social calendar was filling up rather unexpectedly, the floodgates having been opened for Janet to bombard her with pre-prom all-girl events, including sleepovers, salon trips, nail appointments, and...dancing lessons.

“I have danced plenty with Quill,” Gamora had said hastily upon seeing Janet’s digital event spreadsheet (it was colour-coded). “Thank you, Janet, but I’ll pass.”

She had also somehow gotten roped into being on the set-up committee for the fundraiser festival. So, on Thursday evening, she found herself hanging up decorations, while secretly wishing she was back on the Milano, watching The Empire Strikes Back with Peter (“Gamora, this movie is perfection”).

“I heard you guys got your outfits all sorted,” Janet said cheerily. The two of them were stringing up white holiday lights around the quad, while the other volunteers were making signs, setting out tables, and checking the electrical wiring. “Have you decided on your hair and makeup yet?”

“Not quite, but I figured I could consult you for that,” Gamora replied. Janet beamed - clearly, it had been the right response. “I also have a little surprise in my outfit, for Quill.”

“Well doesn’t that sound sexy?” Elektra purred from nearby, where she was painting the banner for the kissing booth. “I have a thigh-high slit in my dress. Matthew always did like my legs the best. What’s your surprise?”

“Nothing like that,” Gamora said, annoyed. “It’s my shoes, actually.” She found the picture of said shoes on her phone and held it out for the other girls to gather around and see. Janet let out a squeal of excitement.

“Oh, he’ll love that,” she sighed. “It’s very sweet of you.” She turned back to the task at hand. “And your six-month anniversary is this week, isn’t it? You have anything fun planned?”

Gamora froze, her hands still in mid-air in an attempt to detangle a section of lights. How could she have forgotten? The two of them had buckled down on their relationship “timeline” recently, mapping out the trajectory of their breakup in the way they planned for missions. In her defense, it wasn’t like she had a colour-coded digital spreadsheet. Hell, the Guardians’ only semblance of organization was a shwarma receipt taped to their fridge door, with their grocery list written on the back of it. Instead of check marks, it had tallies - they couldn’t be bothered to make a new list every time.

“Quill has a surprise for me,” she lied smoothly, recovering. “I have no idea what it could be or when it’s happening, but I trust him.”

“I’m sure it’ll be romantic as always. Your trip to New York was super cute,” Janet gushed, wrapping up the last of the lights. “Nat told me Peter was constantly cheering you on during training. I think it’s sweet how much he adores your badass-ness. I mean, who wants to be with someone who can’t appreciate a girl for everything she is, right?”

“Hear, hear!” Elektra called, raising her paintbrush in victory.

Gamora, feeling particularly bold, decided to embellish a little more. Partially because talking about Peter had become second nature as of late, but also because Elektra was starting to irritate her. “Quill walked into a door when first saw me during a combat exam. He told me it was because he’d been amazed by what he saw, that he’d never seen a girl like me before. It’s...kind of sweet.”

“Kind of? That’s the cutest thing I’ve heard all week, and I heard Lucky sneeze this morning.” Janet stared at Gamora, scarily serious. “Do you know how cute dog sneezes are? It seems pretty clear to me that you and Peter were made for each other.”

Gamora turned away, fussing at another knot that didn’t exist, hoping the others couldn’t see the mixed emotions written across her face. Made for each other, she scoffed to herself. She had told herself, time and time again, that her chance at a normal life had ended the moment Thanos had first stepped onto her homeworld, ceased to exist when he’d grabbed her by the ankles and hauled her away from her parents’ bodies. The very notion of love - any sort of love, be it familial, platonic, or romantic - was laughable for a girl like her, a child raised as a weapon. And yet, here she was, at this academy that she never thought would exist in her lifetime, meant to house all sorts of heroes, anti-heroes, anti-villains, and reformed villains alike, living their lives of various degrees of heroism, sprinkled with “normalcy”, whatever that meant. So yes, maybe romantic relationships were in the cards after all, but she was still so unsure of whether it could ever happen with Peter.

She had fantasized about it, of course, the different scenarios that could come about. Combat practice that ended with her pinning him to the ground (as always), leaning in to peck him on the cheek for his troubles. Him attempting to pass her notes in class - he already did that every now and then, asking for help with a certain question, or to meet with him after school, but she could imagine him to be the type to write song lyrics that made him think of her. A post-mission adrenaline rush, resulting in frenzied kisses against his bedroom door before it became too much and not enough, her practically throwing him down on the bed, straddling him in an instant, wondering why Peter’s belt was too complex to remove within seconds. That last one had featured in Gamora’s mind more than once, that was for sure.

Aside from what she was sure to be just her own imagination running wild, what Gamora couldn’t picture was how they would deal with the more unsavory parts of herself, the thoughts that lingered on what she had done and the people she had done it to. Her first kill at the age of nine. Her first massacre at the age of twelve. Inflicting physical torture by thirteen, and psychological warfare by the time she was fifteen. Gamora was getting better at tackling them all on her own, of course. She wasn’t quite as “gloom and doom” as Nebula, she didn’t think about the inevitability of death the way that poor Bucky Barnes did, but sometimes there would be a twitch in her muscles, or a glimpse of a face in the crowd, that would take her back to “before”. Sharing a bed with Peter had helped combat the nightmares, but it was when she was awake that her brain decided to take her psyche and play. She wasn’t about to tell him any of that, knowing it would result in him hovering, prodding, and fussing like he always did. She didn’t need him to take care of her, and he knew that, but he would try anyway.

Gamora didn’t return to the Milano until late into the night, wondering if any of the Guardians were even there. It was always a toss-up between them sleeping on the ship or back at the dorms, though Rocket was usually the most consistent presence on the Milano, since his own night terrors led to him tinkering away at 3 AM. It was something they never talked about whenever they caught each other wandering around, bleary-eyed and trembling, too numb to speak. “Hello?” Gamora called out as she entered the common area.

Peter was sitting on the couch in the dark, the tablet in his hand being the only source of light. It left a soft glow around his face, highlighting the darkness of the bags under his eyes, the visible clench in his jaw. He looked oddly serious until he seemed to have registered the sound of her voice, his head snapping back up. His grim expression was instantly replaced with his signature grin. “Gamora, hey. Wasn’t expecting you back.” He quickly closed what it was he’d been looking at, though she could have sworn she saw a picture of her face on the screen.

“Thought I’d take my chances, see if you were here instead of the dorms. You’ve been spending a lot of time on the Milano lately, more than usual,” she commented. She considered sitting right next to him, but it felt too intimate when no one else was around to fill the space. She settled for the armchair instead. “Any reason?”

He patted the armrest he was draped over. “Milano’s my girl. She was out of commission for so long, I guess I wanted to keep her company, like she’s a sick pet or something. Is that weird? Yeah, that’s kinda weird.”

Gamora shrugged. “Not that weird. Your attachment to the Milano is to be expected, considering all you’ve been through with...her,” she acquiesced. “What were you looking at?”

Peter glanced back at the tablet in his hands, as if he had forgotten it was there. “Going through our Google Alerts, actually. Pepper set it up for me so I could keep track of our press. Lots of stuff about you and me, especially with that video of Groot.”

“You still feel guilty,” she guessed, eyeing the near-permanent crease between his eyebrows. “Quill, it’s okay.”

“It’s not that, not anymore,” he sighed, leaning back. “It’s more like, there’s a lot more people invested in our ‘relationship’ than I thought, and not just our classmates. When we started this whole thing, I thought it’d just be Janet and Kamala, because they love that kind of stuff. But there’s drawings of us. There’s couples recreating the kissing selfie from Central Park. I asked Cap about this yesterday, and he said he gets the same thing with him and Carter, that it’s all part of the job, but it’s still freaking me out. He told me not to look into something called...fan...fiction?”

Gamora wasn’t sure what he was talking about either, but moved to sit next to him and clasp his hands in between hers. “And it will pass once word of our breakup spreads. We’ve seen what the media is like in this world - fast, fleeting. We will be yesterday’s news before tomorrow’s headlines are even written.”

Peter looked down at their entangled fingers, squeezing. “Profound. I like it.” she pulled away after a moment of comfortable silence, shooting him that warm, almost flirtatious smile once again. He never really knew what to expect whenever she looked at him like that, or how he was supposed to interpret it. He chose to pretend Gamora really was flirting with him, that she was inviting him to flirt back. “What?”

“Janet reminded me that our six-month anniversary is this week,” Gamora replied. “I told her you had a surprise for me.” She stood, moving towards the hall. “Anyways, I’m going to bed now.” He was disappointed to see her hand coming to rest on the handle of her own bedroom door.

“Wait, what are we doing for our six-month anniversary?” he called. His stomach turned slightly at how legitimate it felt as he said it, like they had been actually dating for six months instead of faking it for three.

“Like I said. Surprise me.” She grinned before disappearing into her room, leaving Peter feeling slightly disgruntled, but mostly stunned. Well, damn.

______

The entire Academy seemed to have woken up earlier than usual on Friday morning, eager for a school-wide event that, for once, wasn’t some sort of invasion or fight. Not to mention the fact it also got them out of attending class - Janet van Dyne, everyone’s friend, the perfect event planner, and secret genius.

As it turned out, Peter and Gamora were the only ones on the Milano that night, which made him somewhat curious as to why she had slept in her own room instead. She only seemed to do it whenever the others pointed it out and embarrassed her, but with them being alone...Peter shivered a little. Okay, maybe she had a point. There was no telling how stupidly brave he would try to be if there was no one else around to mock him for trying.

Regardless, they had a relatively peaceful breakfast together, chatting quietly about their respective festival gigs, enjoying the lack of interruptions or teasing from the others. It felt like all the clichés in the world coming together for Peter when he admired the way the early morning light illuminated Gamora’s face, the red undertones of her dark hair more prominent than usual. And if Gamora was eyeing the scruffy bedhead that Peter was sporting, wondering if he would object to her running her fingers through it, he didn’t need to know.

“By the way, a group of us are playing a surprise show at the end. Don’t tell anyone,” she said, setting her spoon down into her empty cereal bowl. “Me, Drax, Adam, Barnes, and Gwen.”

“That sounds amazing,” Peter replied through a mouthful of Cheerios. “In the quad?”

“Mhm,” she hummed. “Janet’s got a couple cameras set up so she can film the show and put it online. Said it would be good for boosting the public’s perception of us, though she claims all the photos of our dates and the selfies that I’ve sent her are doing a fine job already.” She twirled the spoon around absent-mindedly. “I looked at some of the articles you talked about last night after I went to bed, and it’s even more than I realized. It’s honestly overwhelming how invested people are.”

“We’re a good-looking pair of badasses from space,” he shrugged. “In hindsight, not that surprising.”

“And so humble,” Gamora teased. “I suppose it sells better papers than Matt and Elektra. A law student and a socialite’s daughter is hardly worth anything beyond the society pages.”

After breakfast, they dressed and made their way to the quad, where it seemed as if every single student was currently bustling about, whether to help with last-minute setup, or to wait in nervous anticipation. Some students, like Nebula, had opted not to participate or volunteer, whether they were too busy, too lazy, or couldn’t be bothered (...like Nebula).

“Over here, Gamora!” Janet called cheerfully, gesturing for her to join Elektra and Colleen at their station.

“See you later,” Peter said, leaning in to kiss her without a spare thought. He was slightly alarmed to find Gamora also tipping her chin up in response to meet him halfway, an automatic movement on both their parts. Janet cooed in the background as their lips met briefly, before Gamora pulled away, biting her bottom lip in the way that made every thought evaporate out of Peter’s mind. He watched her leave, wondering when the careful calculation of every hand-hold, every kiss, had turned into second nature.

The fundraiser started off with a bang - literally, as Tony, Rhodey, and Pepper flew over the crowd, providing a light show with the use of their modified reactor beams - and the energy remained high throughout the day. Despite not being particularly close with Colleen or a big fan of Elektra, Gamora still found herself having fun with the other girls. Elektra especially was more endearing to her, once she stopped bragging about her and Matt’s exploits of both the hero and the sexual kind.

“I’m glad to see girls like us, with such terrible pasts, can be redeemed,” Elektra said privately to her during one of their water breaks. “But we must remember to never compromise on how powerful we truly are.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” Gamora commented thoughtfully. “We still deserve a place to go home to, with people who love us, so we can love them and provide for them in return.”

“Which is why I hope Romanoff can see beyond her own past as well.” Elektra nodded at Natasha, who was standing across the quad, chatting with Clint. He was leaning against a tree, nonchalantly blowing bubblegum as he always was. They couldn’t hear the conversation, but he was apparently doing a good job of making her laugh. “She’s had her relationships with different kinds of boys on this campus, including a bit of a tussle with Matthew that I don’t appreciate, but there’s something about that weird one that has her captivated, even though they already didn’t work out. I confess I don’t understand.”

“He’s her best friend,” Gamora said quietly. “She probably trusts him with her mind and her heart more than anyone else. They’re both strong, in different ways, but they’re stronger together. He played an important role in her redemption, so her attachment was there from the start. She doesn’t want to know what life is like without him in it, and he came into his own full potential partially because of her guidance. It makes perfect sense.”

Elektra raised an eyebrow. “Honey, are you talking about them, or you and Peter?”

Gamora was unsure of how to answer, so her only response was to take another long drink from her water bottle. She found herself desperately wishing it was alcohol at this point.

Peter, meanwhile, was having a blast with Agent Coulson, whose fanboyish enthusiasm for all the various weapons that both Stark and Rocket had donated for their presentation couldn’t be contained. “You might be the only person who calls me Star-Lord consistently,” Peter told him.

“It’s a cool name,” Coulson replied with a shrug and an easygoing grin. “I wish I had an outlaw name.”

“Your name’s already pretty badass,” Peter said, smiling back. “Thor and his crew call you ‘Son of Coul’, like all the time. That’s already pretty cool.”

Coulson’s eyes widened. “Really? You think so?”

Peter patted him on the back. “Hell, yeah, dude!”

The other Guardians were enjoying themselves at their stations as well, with the exception of Nebula, who opted to walk around by herself and occasionally stop by Gamora’s spot to see if she was going to screw up (she hadn’t, of course). Rocket was giving engineering lessons to students wanting to get better at technology, Drax was challenging people to wrestle (though he drew the line at Hulk - he wasn’t stupid), and Yondu was putting on a “magic show” in which he drew caricatures of people using the yaka arrow. Mantis was using her empathic abilities to predict people’s futures with varying success, and yes, Groot was at the kissing booth, receiving cheek kisses and “ooh”s and “ahh”s of admiration from the majority of the student body.

Peter’s grin was so wide, he was sure he looked maniacal, but he couldn’t find himself to care. It was moments like this that left him in awe of the people had chosen to spend his life alongside - not just the Guardians, but everyone else who made being a hero so much fun. He could have never imagined a life like this after being abducted as a child, raised to be nothing more than a thief, and yet, here he was, living a life that was just so... good. Peter could imagine that Gamora and many others had felt the same way at one point in time or another, having lived in unspeakably abusive conditions with abhorrent people. He also hoped that they felt the same way he did about what this school was doing for them, what it meant to them.

He was broken out of his reverie when Gamora walked past him, and more surprisingly, with Nebula and Yondu in tow, Director Fury a few paces ahead of them. “Gamora? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, though she looked distressed, lying through her teeth. At his knowing glance, she relented with a sigh. “I’ll tell you later if I can, okay?”

Once again, Peter found himself watching her walk away, though now his mind was racing with the possibilities of what a meeting with Fury could possibly mean for his friends. It was like he had jinxed himself, thinking about how good everything was going. Clearly, someone was about to deal them a hand that they weren’t ready to take.

______

“What’s all this fuss about, Director?” Yondu said, as nonchalant as could be. He and Nebula seemed to be having a contest on who could sit in their chair more obnoxiously, while Gamora opted to stand a little off to the side, arms folded across her chest. Fury let out a long sigh, though it seemed more world-weary than people-weary (and there was a difference), settling down on the other side of his desk into his leather office chair.

“It’s distressing news for the three of you. Disturbing, even,” he said, his voice somber. “I’d advise you against telling the others, but I have a feeling you’re probably going to tell Quill anyways. But don’t tell the kid, alright? Groot doesn’t need this kind of stress at his age.”

“What is it?” Gamora asked. Nebula sat up a little straighter, hands coming to rest on her lap. Yondu followed suit, the jovial humour in his eyes evaporating near instantly.

"Seems Thanos wanted to send a message.” Fury leaned forward to rest his elbows on his desk, steely-eyed gaze fixed on Yondu. “Got one of them Black Order people - and I don’t know which - after your Ravagers.”

Yondu shot out of his chair in alarm, fists clenched. Gamora took a cautious step forward in case he was about to deck Fury. “You better be lyin’ to me, Director,” he hissed.

“I wish I was.” He was doing his best to sound authoritative, though there was an underlying tone of sympathy that told them how serious it had been. “Forty-five of your men killed, somewhere out in space. I got in touch with the authorities, see if I could find out more, but there’s not much I can do at the moment but wait for their reply.”

Gamora and Nebula exchanged looks over Yondu’s head as he sat back down, stunned. “My boys,” he whispered. He sounded as if he were a million miles away, or more accurately, wanted to be millions of miles away, with his crew. “This is all on me, ain’t it. Tryna be a Guardian, and I get ‘em killed.”

"This is our fault, Yondu, I’m...I’m so sorry.” Gamora reached to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Thanos wants to hurt Nebula and I by hurting you.”

“You two don’t care about me!” Yondu snapped, slapping her hand away and turning to shoot her an ice-cold glare. “You only pretend to ‘cause Quill keeps me around.”

“We do care,” Gamora protested, frowning. “Do you know how often I meet with Director Fury, trying to convince him that you and Nebula have done something, anything that could possibly get you both to finally come on missions with us? You’re part of this family, Yondu, with or without Quill. Do not insult me by denying that very notion.”

He glowered for another moment before slumping over, sighing. He turned to look back at Fury. “At least tell me Kraglin’s okay. That boy doesn’t deserve to be done in, just ‘cause I’m here.”

“He’s the one who contacted the authorities about the hit,” Fury nodded, relieved that the worst of Yondu’s anger seemed to have passed. “I’m sorry to tell you all this, but I figured this secret wasn’t mine to keep. Now, Thanos himself wasn’t seen or heard from at the scene of the crime, so it could just be him sending a message instead of doing the deed himself. Either way, we’re on high alert. I’m not about to get his hands on any of you kids. Especially not you two.” He wagged his finger at Gamora and Nebula. “You’ve had enough to deal with, living your whole damn childhood out with him. He’s not gonna get a hair on anyone’s head if I have anything to say about it, and I’m sure you feel the same.”

Nebula, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke. “I don’t have any hair on my head, Director. Same as you. But I suppose I can appreciate the sentiment.” She cast a glance over at Yondu, who was staring off into the corner of the room, gritting his teeth as if he were in pain. “Thank you for telling us.”

Fury couldn’t even hide his surprise, staring at her in utter confusion. “Alright, I’m kind of weirded out now. You kids go back to the festivities, and don’t let this spoil the rest of your day.”

______

It felt like coming home when Gamora picked up her guitar again, especially after the heaviness of Fury’s reveal. She played like her heart and soul depended on it, soaking in the enthusiastic (and a little off-key) sounds of her classmates singing along to words she had penned herself, every cheer and every clap driving her to push herself harder. What hit her most, however, was the unabashedly wide grins looking back at her. Despite the hardships that everyone had gone through to get here, they all looked so innocent in that moment, so unaffected by the looming horror that could approach them at any time.

The show ended soon after sunset, though the majority of the student population lingered in the quad, cleaning up and chattering excitedly about their favourite parts of the festival. Janet was flitting about as always, taking selfies with everyone and congratulating them on their various successes. Gamora, meanwhile, was dismantling her set-up when she heard footsteps behind her. I must really have it bad if I can tell who it is without looking, she thought, sighing.

“Hey, Quill. You enjoy the show?”

“You were awesome, as always,” Peter grinned, kneeling next to her so he could help with the complex wiring. “I love seeing you play. And it’s been a really long time, too.”

“Too long,” she agreed. “How about your demonstration? How’d that go?”

“Coulson nearly got me with the Destroyer once, but all he did was burn my hair a little.” He ran his fingers through his hair to show her a slightly singed chunk near his left ear. “No big deal, though.”

Finally giving in to the urge, Gamora reached over to ruffle it slightly until the burnt pieces were tucked out of sight. “I can help you trim that later, if you’d like,” she said softly.

“Sure,” Peter replied. “Hey, I was also thinking of watching Empire Strikes Back tonight, if you’re not too tired. We could head to the dorms instead? We helped raise a crap ton of money, we deserve to wake up without back pain.”

Gamora chuckled. It would be the perfect thing to keep her from letting the peril of Fury’s news plague her every thought. “I’m awake enough. As long as you help me pack up the rest of my equipment.”

He held out his hand almost immediately, pinky out for hers to loop with. “Deal.” She hooked their fingers together, eyes twinkling with mirth. Of all the things Peter had taught her about Earth, admittedly, she found this one to be one of the sweetest. A simple gesture he associated with his mom, now another thing that he shared with her.

______

Once again, Peter found himself distracted by the sight of Gamora lying by his side, cocooned in his sheets, watching the screen with the level of focus she usually reserved for combat. It was easy to tell by the concentration in her eyes that Gamora’s silence wasn’t out of boredom, but of engagement. Peter wondered if all the movies he’d been showing her before - romantic dramas and comedies, for the most part - were not for her. Instead, it was the adventures, the engaging characters, the world-building - that was the kind of stuff she seemed to love. The idealistic versions of their own world, things that reminded her of the happiest parts of their lives.

“You’re really loving this,” Peter commented as Yoda began training Luke. “I should’ve stuck to this stuff instead of the rom-coms. It’s more your style.”

“It’s not that I disliked the other movies,” Gamora said somewhat defensively. “It’s just...I’ve never really experienced romance, or romantic love. It’s hard to relate to something that I’ve never had.”

Upon hearing her confession, he began to wonder what she considered to be romantic. Her words implied that she based her understanding of romantic love off of what the movies showed her - Westley’s devotion to doing as Buttercup asked in The Princess Bride, Phil wanting to learn everything he could about Rita in Groundhog Day. Maybe he was wrong (and Peter found himself to be wrong more often than he’d like to), but it felt as if he were basically already doing those things.

When Peter had first met her, he would’ve joked that her idea of love was knives instead of flowers, and desired combat training in lieu of actual dates, but he knew her better now. He had seen her warm-hearted nature in equal parts to her fierce demeanor. She liked history, as evidenced by how immersed she had been on their “date” at The Met. She enjoyed nihilistic literature, and even though Peter didn’t understand it himself, he wanted to sneak a peek through her bookshelf and figure out what she already owned, so he could buy her more books that would make her happy. He wanted to sit by her side while she wrote songs, be her soundboard for lyrics that she couldn’t quite work out on her own. He wanted to hunt down every movie that he could hope to find that she would enjoy, so he could share as many evenings with her as possible, watching her expressions as she experienced them for the first time. And, in time, Peter wanted to help her on her journey that she never spoke about - rediscovering her home, her culture, her parents, in whatever way she could. There had to be something there, records, photos, videos, anything, that would make her feel like part of a whole again. Hell, he was incredibly gone for this girl.

Then, he got an idea.

“Question,” he said slowly after the movie was over. Gamora had ranted for a good ten minutes about the Darth Vader reveal, her face starting to redden as a result of it. She perked up a little, immediately recognizing the cue that had come to signal their incredibly long-standing game. “What’s romantic to you? Forget everything you saw in the movies, or out there with our classmates, or whatever else you’ve seen. What do you find romantic?”

She turned over onto her back, hands moving to absent-mindedly adjust her pillow as she contemplated the question. “I don’t need anything special,” she finally said. “Big gestures don’t impress me. That’s a sign of showmanship, not love.”

“Then what would be a sign of love to you?” Gamora tensed at this, wondering why Peter was looking so deeply into this particular topic. She could only hope that it was a precursor to something she’d been wanting, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up. This was all just conversation, wasn’t it?

“It’s the small things.” Another memory of her parents appeared to her like an old home movie playing in her brain as she considered the displays of affection she’d witnessed in her life. Her mother, who was terrible at cooking, attempting to make her father his favourite meal. She had burnt it terribly, and Gamora herself had complained at the time, but her father had eaten it regardless with a wide smile on his face. Or her father, who wasn’t the most creative of minds, but had some of the steadiest hands, stretching new canvases so her mother could paint beautiful landscapes. “Like remembering my favourite food, or finding some odd knick-knack that reminds them of me.” Her eyes flickered over to where her utility belt was, laid across Peter’s desk chair, where the multi-tool was tucked away. She had found it to be mostly useless, and tricky to handle correctly without having to take pause in what she was doing, something she couldn’t afford to do in combat. However, it had become one of her most prized possessions, not that she would ever tell anyone that.

“So you’d object if they brought you flowers?” Peter pressed on, determined.

“It’s not like I’d throw them out,” she protested. “It just wouldn’t interest me as much. It doesn’t feel personal.” He nodded, thinking it over. Maybe this whole “giant-crush-on-his-best-friend-slash-fake-girlfriend” thing wasn’t going to leave him with a broken heart after all. There would be time, what with everything he had learned about her these past few months. “Question for you, then. If you had to choose between sex and love, what would it be?”

He laughed, startled. He had never known Gamora to think too much about sex, and he certainly didn’t blame her, considering the horrors she’d experienced as a child, with adults commenting on her attractiveness like it was normal. “They’re not always mutually exclusive, you know. I mean, some people don’t want to have sex at all, and some people don’t want to be in relationships at all, but I’ve never personally felt that way myself.”

“Let me rephrase,” she interrupted, her hand pressed firmly against his chest as if to stop another Peter Quill ramble. “What do you value more, sex or love?”

“Love,” he replied easily. As he expected, she looked rather surprised at his answer. “Sex is great - at least, in my opinion - but I think love is always more fulfilling. Love’s what drove me and my mom to take care of each other, for her to share all the pop culture she grew up on, and for me to enjoy every second of it. Love is what got me and Yondu to bond instead of fight, the way the Ravagers were hoping we’d do. Love is why I fight so hard to keep you guys alive, and safe, and happy. It’s what keeps me going every day, to get up in the morning and be like, hell yeah, I wanna kick ass with the people that are important to me so that other people can live their lives without fear. Y’know? And love doesn’t have to be romantic.”

Gamora bit her tongue before she could ask him to elaborate on the kind of love he felt for her. She was too afraid to know the answer, to hear what she was sure was true. “That’s quite selfless of you. I’m impressed.”

“You wound me every time you doubt me, Gamora,” he said seriously, though his stern face was ruined by a cheesy grin. His expression softened as the moonlight began to creep through his blinds, reflecting the silver on her face, illuminating her impossibly long lashes and the light in her large brown eyes. It was a face he’d been waking up next to so often as of late, a face he wanted to wake up to every day. But the spell could be broken at any time, couldn’t it? Not unless he did something, soon. “What’re you doing tomorrow night?” Peter whispered.

“Nothing, really. Why?”

“It’s our six-month anniversary, of course. I think I know what my surprise for you is gonna be. And it’ll be awesome.”

a/n: i'm still banging their heads together, trust me. but oh boy, next chapter will lead to some epiphanies i'm sure you guys will want to see ;)

#starmora #peter quill #gamora #guardians of the galaxy #avengers academy #myfic #myfic: 20q #marvel #next chapter is their anniversary ooh

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