Chapter Text
Peter groaned, running a frazzled hand through his hair. Damn automatic locking door. There was no way out of the room other than the hole Gamora found that was way too small for a person. Maybe a small two year old had a chance of getting through it.
They were so fucked. When they were inevitably caught the next morning- shit, this was such a bad idea. Peter knew he’d be able to swipe the key from the security guard without getting caught if he wasn’t trapped in this damn room. This is not how date night was supposed to go.
He could practically hear Gamora cursing the fact that werewolves couldn’t teleport, because that was the type of cryptid abilities they could use right about now.
Sure, Gamora could take on just about anyone in a fight, but shifting into a wolf would not get them out of this situation.
Even though he could hear her growling under her breath, she didn’t even think to ask him if he had any abilities that would help them get out.
He still hadn’t told her what he was.
She knew he was some sort of creature- they had met at the academy after all, the one that only had creatures, cryptids, and other mythical beings attending.
Gamora had just written his secrecy off as another Peter Quill quirk. Sure, she was curious, and she asked around back when they first met, but no one at the academy had any idea what Quill was.
She wasn’t exactly thinking about that right now, though. Just trying to figure a way out of this.
Peter scrubbed his eyes. Desperate times called for desperate measures, right? Last resort.
Gamora looked over at the rather dramatic sigh he huffed out, about to snap at him for getting them into this mess and being no help at all right now, but something about his expression made her pause. He looked so withered, defeated. It was actually concerning.
Before she could voice any of her concern, Peter looked up at her. “Don’t give me any shit for this, okay?”
Then, he shifted.
Gamora blinked, truly shocked to see her boyfriend replaced by a cute little rabbit with antlers.
Before she could react or even process what just happened, he was already shimmying out the hole that was too small for a child, but maneuverable for a rabbit with antlers.
Then he was just gone.
He knew that his sticky fingers wasn’t what people were usually talking about when asked about talents and skills, but it did come in handy an awful lot.
After nabbing a key, Peter was on his way back to the room that Gamora was still stuck in not 10 minutes later. In his human form, of course.
He swiftly unlocked the door and opened it to a highly unamused Gamora standing on the other side.
She didn’t say anything.
He didn’t either.
They didn’t need any prompting to get out of there as soon as possible, though. They made their retreat in silence. Peter let the key slip out of his hands, dropping it in the hallway. When it was discovered, the guard would just assume it fell off their belt. None the wiser as to this little late night escapade.
Or, at least, that was the plan. Until Gamora yanked him behind a corner by the back of his collar, alerted to the presence of the patrolling guard blocking their only exit.
She gave him a stern look, like ‘great, now what do we do’, doubtful that he had any more tricks up his sleeve.
Fortunately, he did.
He had only brought the walky talky with the intention of monitoring the security frequencies, but might as well, right? Gamora already saw the rest of it. He slipped further back into the shadows, gaining a little more distance before turning the radio on and dialing into the right frequency.
Gamora’s eyes widened as she proceeded to watch Peter perfectly mimic the voice of another security guard they had overheard earlier, asking for assistance in the west wing. Aka the other side of the building.
It worked like a charm. The guard blocking the door was lured away by the voice of his colleague on the radio, and their exit was free and clear.
They waited a minute before leaving their hiding place, just in case.
Then they slipped out the doors and into the night.
Later, at home, Gamora sat on the couch, pouting. Her brow was furrowed, looking very disgruntled in that adorable little kid way.
Peter would be tempted to kiss her cute face if he didn’t know better than to mess with an unhappy Gamora.
“What is it?” He already knew. Still, he asked anyway.
Gamora glared over at him, still looking like a fussy three year old. “I’m upset,” she said, crossing her arms and pouting harder.
His shoulders slumped. “Cause of the whole-” he made a vague motion over his head in regards to the antlers. Her finding out what creature he was.
He knew this was coming. It was such a stupid, petty secret to keep. And of course she found out in the worst way. Not because he voluntarily disclosed what he’d always kept hidden before, but because they were trapped in a dumb room with no escape.
“Yes. You looked so soft!” Gamora threw her hands up in frustration. “We’ve been dating for a year and you haven’t let me cuddle you even once,” she glowered at him.
Peter almost choked in his surprise.
“That- that’s it? You’re not mad cause- the rest of it?”
Gamora scowled. “I’m mad because you’re cute, and I still didn’t get to feel how soft you were!”
It took some convincing, but after all this time together, Peter had learned to stay on Gamora’s good side. If shifting and letting her… pet him was all it took to make up for how badly that night went and the whole keeping secrets from your awesome werewolf girlfriend just because you happened to be a cryptid on the slightly more adorable side- well, he couldn’t really say no, could he?
Gamora couldn’t hide her thrill at the transformation, and soon enough her fingers were running through the softest fur in the world.
“Can I- your antlers?” She asked permission, wanting to touch them too, but waiting for him to grant it first, in case that would be too much.
Peter inclined his cute little rabbit head towards her, and Gamora took it for the invitation it was.
She was surprised to find they were fuzzy too- not quite velvet, but more like the soft fuzz on a peach just before you took your first bite. Except, unlike in the fruit scenario, there wasn’t anything soft underneath here.
At first she was curious to see if they would be more like boar’s tusks, or horns just in an unusual placement, but no- they truly were antlers. The kind that bucks would get into sparring matches with, the loud fights that echoed when they clashed. Gamora was surprised to find they were warm to the touch- did that mean they were still growing?
As a werewolf, one of the many predator/hunter creatures, she had to take some courses on animals of prey back at the academy. Part of staying hidden from the rest of the world meant being ecologically conscious and leaving no mark- understanding animal’s rhythms, their environments, steering clear of endangered populations, and so on. Part of it was also self defense. Creatures like deer had not horns made of keratin nor tusks made of dentin, but solid bone branching off from their skull, and could really do some damage with them. To any predator, supernatural or otherwise.
She wasn’t sure how much natural deers shared in common with cryptids when it came to antlers. Would Peter shed these antlers with the seasons too? Or were they permanent fixtures?
Gamora followed the tip of the antlers to the base with an almost reverent touch. Scratch that, definitely reverent. She was enamored with the feeling of them, the texture gliding underneath her fingertips.
When she started scratching right behind his sweet little ears (or not so little), she was delighted by the thumping of his back foot that the action spawned. She had to stop after a few moments, because a rabbit’s foot thumping reflex was strong and starting to hurt, but she tucked the information away in the back of her mind for future reference.
“What do I call you?” She was scratching under his chin now, something he appeared to love.
Peter didn’t even get what she was asking at first, but then he realized she wanted to know what he was- what this creature was called. For a moment he was surprised she didn’t know, but then realized he should’ve been expecting that. Lots of people didn’t. Lots of creatures and cryptids didn’t. Wasn’t really one of the more popularized types.
And like- Gamora was a werewolf. They made movies about those. All kinds of books too. Not so much his species.
“Jackalope,” Peter answered.
Gamora jolted with a startled little erp at the sound of his voice.
“You can talk like this?” Her eyes widened.
She could only growl or howl or whine when she was in wolf form. Every cryptid she knew that shifted into a creature- they were only able to make vocalizations in accordance with an (albeit supernatural) animal’s ability.
Peter nodded, rubbing his chin against her fingers that had momentarily stopped scritching until she had resumed her former ministrations. “Can mimic voices like this too,” he elaborated, eyes drifting shut at the pleasant chin scritches.
She had almost forgotten about that. The way he had mimicked the voice of one security guard in order to fool another. It seemed that jackalopes were rather wily creatures.
Werewolves relied more on brute strength, their teeth and claws powerful deterrents. If that wasn’t enough, their viciousness was world renowned. That was how they dealt with… adversarial situations.
A small, unassuming (cuddly looking) rabbit with antlers- something that real wolves would undoubtedly consider prey- who were able to speak and mimic human voices with perfect accuracy-
It suited him.
“I still can’t believe you took this long to tell me.” All this time, and he was something furry too! She hadn’t known what he was- could’ve been a dragon, or a mermaid, a spectre- any number of things. But no, he had fur like she did. Well, his fur was much, much softer than hers, but you get the point.
“We could’ve been having soft, furry cuddle piles this whole time,” Gamora lamented.
Normally she would never do such a disservice to her wolf form as to call herself something soft and furry that enjoyed snuggles, but next to Peter, oh-ho-ho. He was adorable. Sign her right up for the cuddles.
If saying that they could’ve shared furry snuggle piles made him feel less embarrassed about being the softest goddamn adorable thing she’d ever seen, then it was a small price to pay.
“Yeah, ’long as you don’t eat me,” Peter grumbled. Gamora’s werewolf form was quite a bit larger than the average wolf. Quite a lot more dangerous than one too.
Gamora smiled at him awful fond. “I would never eat you.”
Peter settled into her lap with a huff, and Gamora’s fingers returned to his fur, stroking his back.
Oh yes, they were definitely going to start doing cuddle piles in their other forms. For now, Gamora had the cutest jackalope snuggled up for a nap on her lap, and she couldn’t be happier.