Chapter Text
Everything was not fine. Peter had decided not to hide his ears and tail again, at least while on the Milano, and maybe that was the cause of the unrest. It had been a week, and Rocket was either ignoring or being more rude than normal to Peter. People less familiar with the raccoon probably wouldn't notice any difference, but Peter noticed. The difference was rather subtle, actually.
Rocket had been taking apart the ship more than normal, and frequently left his projects and supplies where Peter would trip over them. On the fourth day of this (rather petty) treatment, Peter brought up his teammate's behavior with Gamora.
"I'm serious, Gamora, he's being more of a jerk than normal!" Peter told her.
Gamora just stared at Peter for a moment. "He probably just needs time to cool off, Peter. Maybe he's just angry at you for hiding this for so long," she suggested.
Peter wasn't convinced, not by a long shot, but he conceded. "Fine."
Three days passed, and Rocket was treating the others normally. He sat on Groot's shoulders, bantered with Gamora, and told Drax he was an idiot when the guy missed a joke. Peter couldn't stand it. He still considered the other his friend, but now Rocket seemed to hate Peter. It sucked, because he thought that the raccoon was funny, sarcastic, and cool.
Peter didn't know how to fix things between the two of them, so he tried to act like the unfriendly treatment didn't bother him. He walked on eggshells around Rocket, not sitting or standing next to him or initiating conversation unless it was necessary. It wasn't a fun way to live, but he managed. But after eight days of this behavior from Rocket, Peter snapped.
Marching down to Rocket's room, Peter banged on the door, nearly shouting. "Rocket, we need to talk!"
To Peter's surprise, the door slid open, revealing a glowering Rocket. "What do ya want, Quill?"
"Why have you been ignoring me?" Peter asked, his voice loud and edging on hysterical. "You've been more of a jerk than usual, lately, and I don't understand. Do you hate me? Do I disgust you? Do you think that I'm somehow mocking you? Because let me tell you, I'm really not." Peter fell to his knees, dropping his head to look at the floor. "I really like being your friend, so what do I gotta do, man? Do you want me to hide these away so you never have to see them?" he gestured towards his ears and tail.
Peter hesitated before asking "Do... do I need to... cut them off?" The question was serious, and Peter wondered at the intensity of his desire to keep Rocket as a friend. The man continued to stare at the floor, waiting for any sort of answer. Then Peter yelped as a small, clawed hand fisted itself in his hair and yanked. His head was jerked back harshly, and their eyes met for the first time in eight days.
Rocket's face was twisted into a snarl, but his expression faded into a frown as he looked into Peter's eyes. "You self-sacrificing idiot! Cut them off? Why the fuck would you ever think of doing that!? Why would you think I'd want that? I may be an asshole, but I'm not 100% a dick," the raccoon said. "Why do you have those, anyway? It better not be some weird fetish.
"No!" Peter shouted. "I mean, no, not at all. I was born with these, I promise. My mom was a type of terran called a Mýval, which makes me one, too. They're a race of terrans that have some raccoon features."
"Oh," Rocket said. The raccoon was silent for a couple of moments. "I- I'm- I'm sorry for bein' such a jerk to ya, Quill," he apologized.
Peter was taken aback at the apology and just stared at Rocket with a shocked expression. "Shut yer mouth, Quill. Ya look like an idiot," the raccoon said.
Peter didn't know what to say. So rather than saying anything and making an even bigger fool of himself, he shuffled closer and threw his arms around Rocket. The raccoon froze, startled by the act of affection. His hands hovered over the other's back. It wasn't until he smelled tears coming from Peter that the raccoon wrapped his own arms around the crying terran and patted his back awkwardly. The reciprocation made Peter tighten the hug.
After a few moments, Rocket decided that was enough awkward affectionate shit and took his hands off Peter's back, pulling away enough for the other to get the hint. Peter released his friend and did his best to stop the tears running down his face. He wiped his eyes and sniffled as Rocket looked away.
"So, uh, we're cool now, right?" the raccoon asked.
It took Peter a second to realize he'd been asked a question. "Oh! Uh, yeah, we're cool," he confirmed.
Rocket snorted. "Good, because you're shit at pretending to not be miserable," he told Peter.
Peter smiled at the intentionally weak insult. Their relationship wasn't back to normal, not yet, but they both knew that things would be okay.