[ It hadn't been a difficult thing to convince the others of the need for a break, given the difficulty of their latest assignments, as well as the remarkable level of success. Granted, success in this case meant that no one had bled to death, and any missions involving cargo meant that at least 60% of the goods were still intact. Nevertheless, the Guardians were on the upswing, which meant a vacation was long overdue.
It also hadn't been a difficult thing to convince them of the merits of landing on Sarapis. The planet was renowned for its beautiful beaches and its relative seclusion. One of the few natural beauties left in the galaxy that hadn't turned into an overdeveloped mess. Touristy after a fashion, but anyone who wanted to be left alone would be.
What had been a difficult thing for Peter was convincing Rocket that, no, he did not need to bring five bombs to the surface with him (they begrudgingly compromised, finally, on one); telling Drax that, no, he would not need to chaperone Peter and Maya to ensure Peter did not take advantage of Maya in her "delicate state" (Peter reminded Drax of Maya's ability to set people on fire with her mind); and finally, forcing Gamora off the ship once they landed, despite her insistence that she did not need a vacation (Peter told her to think of it as his way of saying thanks, which worked).
Groot had been easy, at least. All he wanted was to enjoy the sun.
Peter had promised Maya beaches with white sand and clear water, and Sarapis delivered; it wasn't too unlike the tropical beaches on Earth, but the sky was a vibrant shade of blue, the water a clear, glass-like turquoise. Despite the odds, he and Maya had found themselves a stretch of beach without another soul in sight; Peter had, of course, insisted on carrying all of their things.
As he looks out from where he's seated on towel in the sand, Peter is trying and failing to remember the last time he's been to a beach just for enjoyment. He's had plenty of jobs that took place near the ocean, sure, and more than once he's ended up having to dive beneath the surface of the water, but that was to throw off pursuers and not for the joy of swimming. And swimming fully clothed sucks, which is why he's currently shirtless and in a pair of swim trunks. ]
So, like, beach stuff. [ His tone is cheerful, and he grins at her. ] Are we supposed to break into upbeat songs and start doing the Monkey? 'Cause that's what I was always taught.
I dunno. The last time I was on a beach, Sir Hammerlock got kidnapped by the locals and we had to kill the giant crab monster that was going to eat him.
[ She swears, her life sounds like a comedy of errors sometimes. ]
So, you know. Not very beachy.
[ Maya, for her own part, actually bought a bikini. Partially because she wanted to surprise Peter, but she still has on her oversized Torgue t-shirt over it. She's not really sure why she's so shy about the whole thing- Peter obviously had no problem wandering around without his shirt on. (And she certainly had no problem with him wandering around without his shirt on. She actually had to remind herself more than once not to stare, but damn.) She's being silly and insecure, she knows, but for now the shirt stays on.
She wanders idly around Peter's towel, enjoying the feel of the sand on her bare feet. ]
[ With a story like that, his first response is to deadpan, ] Your life is awesome.
[ He's watching her walk around, and he can't help the doofy, fond smile he shoots her. For the most part, she seems at ease, and it's a nice change. As for the large shirt, he figures it has something to do with her being uncomfortable with beachwear, and he doesn't press it. (Even though he'd really like to, because Maya in a swimsuit? Yes, sign him up.) ]
Well, there's swimming, or lounging, or sunbathing, or building sand castles. I've heard rumors of people enjoying long walks, but my money's on that being a lie, because walking sucks.
Not a "long walks on the beach" kind of guy? [ she shoots him a smirk before wandering closer to the water, letting it lap at her toes. Even in her t-shirt, it's easy to see her tattoos travel all the way down her left leg, dipping only slightly towards her inner thigh every once and a while, but they curl all over her calf and downwards, ending finally at her toes.
Her toes, which she is wiggling in the wet sand, as she giggles like a little girl. ] It's colder than I thought it'd be!
[ He can't help it -- his eyes trace the swirls of her tattoos, and he unconsciously licks his lips; he was joking around at the time, but the idea of getting to know the dip and curl of each and every line of those markings sounds really appealing right now.
-- But then she giggles and goddamn that was cute, and he snorts. ]
Oh my God. Do you have any idea how cute you're being right now?
What? No. I'm not cute. I'm deadly and terrifying.
[ It's hard to take that seriously when she's smiling like she is. She'd admit, she was actually quite disappointed when she and the Vault Hunters didn't even get to enjoy their time on Wham Bam Island (yes, really) and instead spent their time chasing after Sir Hammerlock and dodging assassins.
This was... freeing. Just her and Peter, the sand and the waves. Nothing was trying to kill them- they could just... be. The unknown, the what ifs that had been plaguing her since she got her memory back, didn't seem quite as scary now. With time, she could beat this.
There was a lyric in one of the songs that she'd put on Peter's ECHO device, and she's not sure why it occurs to her in that moment, but when it does it just seems to fit.
But you can't breathe in if you don't breathe out.
That makes her smile, and she whistles the little tune from the beginning of the song before turning back to where Peter is sitting. ]
So, if you don't do long walks on the beach, do you swim?
[ He graces her with a mock-patronizing smile and an understanding nod. ] Yes, dear. Of course you are, dear.
[ Finally he stands, brushing ineffectually at the sand that made its way onto his blue trunks, and a little smile tugs on his lips when he recognizes the tune she's humming. She seems like she's in a good mood, and given everything that's happened? It seems like a really good fucking sign. Score one for Star-Lord, he thinks, pleased.
Eventually he wanders over to her, hands on his hips as he looks out over the ocean. He breathes in the air -- clean and cool, a little salty. ]
Mostly been doin' a lot of "hide until the dudes give up" swimming lately, but yeah, I do. Grandpa used to take us to the lake whenever we visited him, and me and Mom would splash around like idiots.
[ And even as his voice gets softer, the look on his face is one of fondness. ] It was fun.
[ She glances at him, a small smile on her face. There's a lot of things she could do or say here. Things that are sweet and meaningful, things that show him she cares and that she's glad to know a little bit more about him- his past, and his family.
She does none of those things and instead elects to shuck off her t-shirt, drape it over his head, and jump into the water. ]
[ He splutters and shouts a quick, ] Hey, what the hell--?! [ Before yanking the shirt off his face--
And then he catches a quick glimpse of Maya in a bikini -- Maya in a bikini -- and his brain shorts out, and his shout turns into a murmured, ] Oh, fuck me.
[ And then he's tossing the shirt in the vague direction of their things (and he hopes it lands somewhere near there, because he has no idea if Maya would be pissed or not if the waves stole it away), and he's chasing after her. ]
[ He dives in after her, and for a second he's wrapped up in how clear the water really is, how pretty it is, and also hot damn, Maya in a bikini, but soon he's kicking out after her and giving chase. ]
[ Maya is not exactly a strong swimmer- she knows how to swim, certainly, but she never had the opportunity for much practice. Catching her should be rather easy ]
[ And so it is! He manages to get a burst of speed to swim alongside her before catching her around the waist with a triumphant grin. He brings them to the surface and takes a moment to shake his hair out of his eyes. ]
[ More like a reward, really, as she loops her arms around his shoulders and kisses him right back. The feeling of skin-on-skin is electric and she presses closer to him. ]
[ Damn, this is nice -- the taste of Maya and salt and water, and the warmth of her pressed up against him; the coolness of the waves as they splash against the two of them. His arms are at her bare waist (and he remembers the first time he was in this position like this, awkward and embarrassed by the newness of it), and he thinks he could really get used to this.
He breaks the kiss eventually, though, grinning at her. ]
Yes, sir. [ is all she manages to murmur before he's kissing her again. She has a brief, flickering thought that she could take advantage of the moment and try to dunk him in the water, but she realizes she would much rather kiss him.
She's not sure if it was all the time spent away from him or not remembering him, but she finds that lately all she wants to do is be close to him. As close as she can be. Which is why one of her hands drifts up to tangle in his hair and she ups the insistence of the kiss a little. ]
[ Thank goodness she doesn't, considering he's got his hands full at the moment, treading water and keeping them afloat and kissing her soundly.
Peter, as it turns out, is rather good at multitasking. And he's finding out rather quickly that he's really starting to like beaches and the ocean.
His arms tighten around her waist, pulling her in a little closer, a little more snugly against him. His lips part and he's sliding his tongue along her lower lip, inviting her to part her lips as well. ]
[ Thankfully the gentle rock of the ocean waves is slowly easing them back towards the shore, so he won't have to keep treading water for long.
Not that she's really taking any notice of where they are in relation to the beach, he thoughts are clearly focused on other things. On the press of his body against hers, warm in contrast to the cool water, on the taste of salt and water and Peter as she parts her lips, tangling her fingers further in his hair as she deepens the kiss. On that familiar, wonderful feeling of tingling warmth rolling through her whenever they kiss, or touch, or whenever she thinks about him in her more private moments, wondering what it would be like if he ever made good on any of the suggestive jokes he makes.
She would love it, the part of her mind not currently occupied by making out with Peter realizes, if he did make good on those jokes. She wants him to. It's sort of a wonderful, freeing realization- just one that goes unsaid for the moment if favor of, well, continuing to make out with Peter. ]
[ Sometimes Peter has to marvel at how damn good Maya is with her tongue. It was a shocking revelation at first (that is, he distinctly remembers thinking, Where did she learn to do that?), but definitely a welcome one. The fact that she's good with her hands, though, has never been a surprise, which isn't to say he doesn't appreciate it. It drives him wild, in fact, when she tangles her hand in his hair just so, and currently he's humming his satisfaction.
The waves push them to the shore, and he's thankful to get his feet underneath him. One less thing to focus on, after all, and more attention diverted to Maya and the way her touch sends sparks along his skin and a warm tingling down his spine. And he thinks about how much he missed her in the long weeks between her capture and regaining her memory; how he missed kissing her and holding her in his arms and flirting with her behind cover; how he missed the way she could cut him down with a quick joke, her saintly patience for putting up with his endless teasing, her quick wit and the way she would blush if he pushed too far.
He doesn't say it much, even after his first admission, but he really loves her. The feeling is still too big and too dangerous for him to say aloud too often, but it's there, and it's real, and though he'd never say so, it scares the hell out of him.
He pulls away after a moment, and he smirks -- clearly a precursor to him being a smartass. ]
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It also hadn't been a difficult thing to convince them of the merits of landing on Sarapis. The planet was renowned for its beautiful beaches and its relative seclusion. One of the few natural beauties left in the galaxy that hadn't turned into an overdeveloped mess. Touristy after a fashion, but anyone who wanted to be left alone would be.
What had been a difficult thing for Peter was convincing Rocket that, no, he did not need to bring five bombs to the surface with him (they begrudgingly compromised, finally, on one); telling Drax that, no, he would not need to chaperone Peter and Maya to ensure Peter did not take advantage of Maya in her "delicate state" (Peter reminded Drax of Maya's ability to set people on fire with her mind); and finally, forcing Gamora off the ship once they landed, despite her insistence that she did not need a vacation (Peter told her to think of it as his way of saying thanks, which worked).
Groot had been easy, at least. All he wanted was to enjoy the sun.
Peter had promised Maya beaches with white sand and clear water, and Sarapis delivered; it wasn't too unlike the tropical beaches on Earth, but the sky was a vibrant shade of blue, the water a clear, glass-like turquoise. Despite the odds, he and Maya had found themselves a stretch of beach without another soul in sight; Peter had, of course, insisted on carrying all of their things.
As he looks out from where he's seated on towel in the sand, Peter is trying and failing to remember the last time he's been to a beach just for enjoyment. He's had plenty of jobs that took place near the ocean, sure, and more than once he's ended up having to dive beneath the surface of the water, but that was to throw off pursuers and not for the joy of swimming. And swimming fully clothed sucks, which is why he's currently shirtless and in a pair of swim trunks. ]
So, like, beach stuff. [ His tone is cheerful, and he grins at her. ] Are we supposed to break into upbeat songs and start doing the Monkey? 'Cause that's what I was always taught.
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[ She swears, her life sounds like a comedy of errors sometimes. ]
So, you know. Not very beachy.
[ Maya, for her own part, actually bought a bikini. Partially because she wanted to surprise Peter, but she still has on her oversized Torgue t-shirt over it. She's not really sure why she's so shy about the whole thing- Peter obviously had no problem wandering around without his shirt on. (And she certainly had no problem with him wandering around without his shirt on. She actually had to remind herself more than once not to stare, but damn.) She's being silly and insecure, she knows, but for now the shirt stays on.
She wanders idly around Peter's towel, enjoying the feel of the sand on her bare feet. ]
What else do people even do on beaches?
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[ He's watching her walk around, and he can't help the doofy, fond smile he shoots her. For the most part, she seems at ease, and it's a nice change. As for the large shirt, he figures it has something to do with her being uncomfortable with beachwear, and he doesn't press it. (Even though he'd really like to, because Maya in a swimsuit? Yes, sign him up.) ]
Well, there's swimming, or lounging, or sunbathing, or building sand castles. I've heard rumors of people enjoying long walks, but my money's on that being a lie, because walking sucks.
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Her toes, which she is wiggling in the wet sand, as she giggles like a little girl. ] It's colder than I thought it'd be!
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-- But then she giggles and goddamn that was cute, and he snorts. ]
Oh my God. Do you have any idea how cute you're being right now?
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[ It's hard to take that seriously when she's smiling like she is. She'd admit, she was actually quite disappointed when she and the Vault Hunters didn't even get to enjoy their time on Wham Bam Island (yes, really) and instead spent their time chasing after Sir Hammerlock and dodging assassins.
This was... freeing. Just her and Peter, the sand and the waves. Nothing was trying to kill them- they could just... be. The unknown, the what ifs that had been plaguing her since she got her memory back, didn't seem quite as scary now. With time, she could beat this.
There was a lyric in one of the songs that she'd put on Peter's ECHO device, and she's not sure why it occurs to her in that moment, but when it does it just seems to fit.
But you can't breathe in if you don't breathe out.
That makes her smile, and she whistles the little tune from the beginning of the song before turning back to where Peter is sitting. ]
So, if you don't do long walks on the beach, do you swim?
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[ Finally he stands, brushing ineffectually at the sand that made its way onto his blue trunks, and a little smile tugs on his lips when he recognizes the tune she's humming. She seems like she's in a good mood, and given everything that's happened? It seems like a really good fucking sign. Score one for Star-Lord, he thinks, pleased.
Eventually he wanders over to her, hands on his hips as he looks out over the ocean. He breathes in the air -- clean and cool, a little salty. ]
Mostly been doin' a lot of "hide until the dudes give up" swimming lately, but yeah, I do. Grandpa used to take us to the lake whenever we visited him, and me and Mom would splash around like idiots.
[ And even as his voice gets softer, the look on his face is one of fondness. ] It was fun.
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She does none of those things and instead elects to shuck off her t-shirt, drape it over his head, and jump into the water. ]
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And then he catches a quick glimpse of Maya in a bikini -- Maya in a bikini -- and his brain shorts out, and his shout turns into a murmured, ] Oh, fuck me.
[ And then he's tossing the shirt in the vague direction of their things (and he hopes it lands somewhere near there, because he has no idea if Maya would be pissed or not if the waves stole it away), and he's chasing after her. ]
I'm gonna get you for that!
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[ She says it right before she submerges, swimming away from him. ]
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The great Star-Lord is triumphant once more.
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It seems I gravely underestimated you.
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He breaks the kiss eventually, though, grinning at her. ]
I hope you've learned your lesson.
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[ She flashes him a smirk, a little wicked at the edges. ]
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As it is, he hums thoughtfully. ] Well, how about you pay closer attention this time, huh?
[ And he kisses her again, gentle but insistent. ]
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She's not sure if it was all the time spent away from him or not remembering him, but she finds that lately all she wants to do is be close to him. As close as she can be. Which is why one of her hands drifts up to tangle in his hair and she ups the insistence of the kiss a little. ]
oh my gosh i never clicked post comment i'm sorry
Peter, as it turns out, is rather good at multitasking. And he's finding out rather quickly that he's really starting to like beaches and the ocean.
His arms tighten around her waist, pulling her in a little closer, a little more snugly against him. His lips part and he's sliding his tongue along her lower lip, inviting her to part her lips as well. ]
haha happens to the best of us!!
Not that she's really taking any notice of where they are in relation to the beach, he thoughts are clearly focused on other things. On the press of his body against hers, warm in contrast to the cool water, on the taste of salt and water and Peter as she parts her lips, tangling her fingers further in his hair as she deepens the kiss. On that familiar, wonderful feeling of tingling warmth rolling through her whenever they kiss, or touch, or whenever she thinks about him in her more private moments, wondering what it would be like if he ever made good on any of the suggestive jokes he makes.
She would love it, the part of her mind not currently occupied by making out with Peter realizes, if he did make good on those jokes. She wants him to. It's sort of a wonderful, freeing realization- just one that goes unsaid for the moment if favor of, well, continuing to make out with Peter. ]
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The waves push them to the shore, and he's thankful to get his feet underneath him. One less thing to focus on, after all, and more attention diverted to Maya and the way her touch sends sparks along his skin and a warm tingling down his spine. And he thinks about how much he missed her in the long weeks between her capture and regaining her memory; how he missed kissing her and holding her in his arms and flirting with her behind cover; how he missed the way she could cut him down with a quick joke, her saintly patience for putting up with his endless teasing, her quick wit and the way she would blush if he pushed too far.
He doesn't say it much, even after his first admission, but he really loves her. The feeling is still too big and too dangerous for him to say aloud too often, but it's there, and it's real, and though he'd never say so, it scares the hell out of him.
He pulls away after a moment, and he smirks -- clearly a precursor to him being a smartass. ]
So. Beach stuff. Pretty good, right?
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You always know just the right thing to say.
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