Waiting for the Stars: A Quillock Rapunzel AU Fanfiction: Chapter 3
Summary:
Peter and his Guardians protect the small town of Knowhere at all costs. When the Universal Church of Truth threatens the peace and Peter's concealed past, Peter chooses to follow their request: to bring a powerful being back to the Church.
Meanwhile, Adam believes his duty is to stay hidden from the world, never allowing his powers to be used by anyone. Adam's solitary life is disrupted when he finds a man hiding in his pantry. Of course, as any reasonable person would, Adam hits the man with his pan.
Chapter 1, 2
Read it on AO3
Notes:
Previously: After waking up from being hit with a pan, Peter successfully talked to Adam and walked out of the castle without further injury. Peter told Drax and Gamora information he had gleaned from Adam, and about his plan to stay with Adam and slowly convince him to head back to the Church. Gamora wasn’t thrilled about leaving Peter alone, but she relented in the end. The next day, Gamora injured Peter in an effort to get Peter back inside the castle. When Adam found Peter, he healed him and carried him back to the castle.
In this chapter: Adam cooks dinner, Peter screams, and the High Evolutionary makes his debut.
Thank you for waiting for this update! Jwi and I were fighting demons (Japan heat and academic conferences)
Chapter 3
Peter sometimes wondered what the immediate reactions of the people were after he left Spartax. Were they relieved, happy to be rid of the frivolous prince that would undoubtedly turn into a flippant king? Were they distraught, sad to see potential disappear? Did they feel betrayed, left with a king who cared more about the prosperity of his dick than the prosperity of his nation?
Betrayal. It was becoming a familiar flavor to Peter; its bitterness laced in many of his relationships — such as the secrets he wouldn’t tell the Guardians and the deception he was trying to pull with Adam. But it was only betrayal if they found out, and Peter was (mostly) confident that he could complete this mission without revealing any deceit.
What he didn’t expect was for Adam to throw betrayal right back in his face.
The lingering scent of chicken and rice drifted lightly in the air as Peter fought hard not to whine. He was really looking forward to a home-cooked meal…
Across from him, Adam sat with crossed arms and an almost expectant look in his glowing eyes. Flavorless. Dinner was flavorless, and Peter wasn’t sure if he had the heart to tell Adam that his food sort of sucked.
“It’s — um. What kinds of seasonings did you put in this?” Peter asked while making a herculean effort not to sound strained.
“Seasonings?” Adam replied with a small tilt to his head, golden hair easily rolling off his shoulders.
Oh, sweet lord up above, grant me strength.
Peter cleared his throat, trying to get rid of any devastation his voice might convey. It didn’t work very well. “It — okay, look, Adam, I don’t want to lie to you. I say this with all the kindness in my heart, but this chicken is as flavorless as a rich, Spartoi honeymoon.”
“And this is bad?”
“Very bad.”
Adam leaned back, brought a hand to his chin, and scrunched his nose in a way that was now becoming familiar and — dare Peter think — cute. “I see. I’m not sure what went wrong. I followed the recipe book exactly,” Adam said, gesturing to a book on the kitchen island. The colorful cover read: 100 Terran Recipes to Woo Any Man. Peter raised his eyebrow at Adam, unsure if he should be feeling flattered right now and questioning if Adam even knew he was part Terran.
“I did not choose this book,” Adam said, as if that cleared anything up.
A chuckle bubbled from Peter’s chest, warm like the lanterns lit around the kitchen. “No need to explain yourself to me. I’ve seen much raunchier titles from other friends.” Adam made a face at that, but Peter ignored him by opening the book. “Oh! Look, it says to add salt and things right here.” Peter pointed to the recipe page.
Adam nodded, his unreasonably long hair forming mesmerizing, fluid waves. Peter could imagine being jealous of them if he cared a bit more about his hair. “That part of recipes will usually state ‘to taste’; the taste of food has never been especially important to me, so I never add those.”
Peter felt like jumping off the readily available cliff just outside. “Adam, maybe you have magic taste buds that can make everything you eat taste good, but we normal people need seasonings!” Peter retorted while using his hands to gesture to the food for emphasis. For the umpteenth time that evening, Peter thought about just how unusual the golden man he had entangled himself with was.
Adam’s shoulders tensed a little at the latter half of Peter’s sentence. It gave Peter pause, as if he could feel the puzzle that was Adam slowly being revealed. Did he take issue with Peter’s use of “normal”? Or did he not like being reminded of his magic? Both? So many pieces were still missing.
“I cook almost every day for Father, and he has never complained about the food before,” Adam countered, faint defensiveness in his voice.
Peter’s mind was brought back to the present. He internally smiled as an entertaining opportunity presented itself. “Alright, then how about we cook more chicken, but this time we add seasonings and see what your dad thinks?” Peter challenged, arms crossed and hips slightly cocked. Little challenges like these were something he’d often do with the Guardians. He usually lost, but the experience was always fun. Man, he missed them all already. Hopefully, Adam knew how to have at least a little bit of fun.
“I accept this challenge,” Adam said, now standing up with fervent speed, as if he had something to prove. Peter gave some pleased claps.
In a flash, Adam got ingredients ready and demonstrated his ability with a knife by quickly and smoothly slicing chicken breasts lengthwise, producing thin pieces.
Not wanting to be a useless guest, Peter ran to help Adam prepare the breaded chicken. Before Adam could shoo him away, Peter washed his hands and quickly grabbed a piece of meat to cover in flour and beaten egg. He flashed Adam a big, ingenuous smile. Adam shook his head and finished cutting the meat. He then moved on to breading, seasoning, and frying.
For a few minutes, they continued to work like this: an assembly line consisting of two. They stood side by side, in a comfortable and productive silence. Occasionally, one arm would brush against the other, and Peter would feel like breaking the silence if only to draw attention away from the touch.
Eventually, Peter’s restlessness got the better of him, and he purposely hip bumped the golden man. Adam let out a quiet, upset grunt while Peter giggled to himself. What he didn’t expect was for Adam to bump him right back.
Peter gasped, a delighted smile and sparkling eyes slowly overtaking his face. He softly stepped on Adam’s foot, provoking. Adam responded in kind by stepping on his foot, a bit more forceful than what Peter did. Peter might have chided him for being rough if he wasn’t so busy hitting him back.
Peter bumped, Adam stepped. Adam bumped, Peter stepped.
The shuffle of their clothes and Peter’s giggles filled the warm kitchen. As a grand finale, Peter threw a pinch of flour at Adam’s face.
He immediately sputtered and flailed his hands in front of himself. Peter threw his head back and let out a loud, boisterous laugh as he watched Adam’s handsome face process what just happened to it.
“You got a little…,” Peter said in between chuckles, pointing to his own nose.
Adam sighed exasperatedly as he rubbed his face with a nearby towel. “How childish.”
“I’m just spreading some joy.” Peter cracked an easy-going smile with his arms behind his back.
Adam shook his head and went back to frying the chicken. Peter, done with his job, paced around the kitchen, touching random objects as he explored. “You know,” Peter started while walking, “I am at least impressed that I didn't find a long ass hair in my food.”
Peter quickly dodged as an innocent spatula was thrown in his direction.
Once done with all the cooking, Adam excused himself to take the meals down to his father.
Peter had a strong inclination to follow him and get a glimpse of the elusive occupant, but he figured he shouldn’t overstep and decided to stay upstairs. He had some freshly cooked dinner to devour after all. His body wiggled and danced in contentment as he served himself now seasoned chicken.
Upon his first bite, his mouth exploded with crisp and juicy flavors, made all the more delicious by the effort put into the meal. A small smile found its way to Peter's lips. Who would have thought that Adam could let loose? It made Peter curious as to what other sides he could bring out of him.
★ ★ ★
This had to be the most questionable day of Adam’s (admittedly short) life. Not only did he let a complete stranger see his abilities, but he also let said stranger into his home. While Star-Lord seemed harmless, it would be folly to think that he had no ulterior motives. The castle of the High Evolutionary was secluded from populated areas and surrounded by tall mountains, dense forest, and large lakes. The only way for someone to come near this place was if they purposely ventured here; just passing through did not make sense. There had to be more to Star-Lord's story than he was letting on.
Yet it was surprisingly easy to forget about his suspicions as they ate and cooked together. Star-Lord was easy to talk to, knew how to create a humorous atmosphere, and knew how to tease without going too far — an overall charmer.
Adam had little idea how to deal with an individual like that. He had little idea how to deal with anyone, really. The other man’s presence made Adam somewhat anxious, nervous. He hoped Star-Lord hadn’t picked up on his unease.
Descending to the basement and feeling the familiar, calming presence of his father eased his mind a tad, at least. When the High Evolutionary caught sight of Adam and the plates of chicken he held, an inquiring stare entered his partly obscured eyes.
“This is an experiment,” Adam began. “Please tell me which dish you prefer.”
He set down the plates and handed his father cutlery. The High Evolutionary looked back and forth between the chicken and Adam before finally deciding to move his helmet and take bits of the two meals in front of him.
“The one on the left, which I am assuming is the one with more seasonings, is more palatable than the flavorless one on the right,” the High Evolutionary bluntly answered.
Adam sucked in a quiet breath, desperately trying to keep a neutral expression. “I see.” He was practically pouting. Proven wrong by Star-Lord — how embarrassing.
The High Evolutionary set his fork down and leaned closer to Adam. His helmet was back in place, concealing most of his face, but the interest in his eyes still read clearly. “What brought this up?”
“I’ve been informed that most people prefer seasoned food.”
“That is true, but informed? Who told you that?”
Adam avoided looking into his father’s eyes, shame evident in his. Bringing Star-Lord here was spontaneous. He should have consulted his father first. “I may have a guest over right now.”
“That’s surprising.” The High Evolutionary tapped his fingers on his desk. “Would it happen to be the man I overheard coo, ‘who’s a good horsie, you are,’ to Man Beast while I was outside a short while ago?”
Adam sighed. “I was not aware he went to the stables.” It was, of course, possible that another person happened to be nearby, but the action was so in line with what he understood about Star-Lord that he found it hard to imagine it was anyone else.
The High Evolutionary got up from his chair and put a firm hand on Adam’s shoulder, a touch that comforted Adam more than he would like to admit. His other hand reached up to hold the side of Adam’s head, thumb lightly petting the gem on his forehead. He found it hard not to lean into the touch.
“My son, is this guest of yours a problem? Do you need him removed?” the High Evolutionary calmly asked.
Star-Lord was proving to be an annoying and unserious man, but that did not necessitate his removal. In fact, Adam felt like further conversations with him could be enlightening on the world outside the bubble that was this castle; things Adam could never learn from his many books.
“There’s no need. He will be gone by tomorrow.” Adam turned away from his father. “I do, however, have some unfortunate news.” A pause. “Star-Lord may now be aware of my abilities. I apologize, he was injured, and I was not sure how else to handle it.”
The High Evolutionary closed his eyes and brought his arms back to his sides. “That is unfortunate, but do not apologize. This was an oversight on my part. I should have taught you more first aid.” He let out a breath. “At least you’ve befriended a man with a… decent reputation.”
Adam would hardly call Star-Lord a friend, but he digressed. “Reputation?”
“Star-Lord and his team are known throughout this area as peacekeepers and simultaneous troublemakers. Useful in emergencies, unwanted otherwise.”
So, Star-Lord’s hero spiel wasn’t all delusion. The image of Star-Lord chivalrously saving cats from trees was a humorous one, but what interested Adam was why a frivolous man like Star-Lord would want to be a hero. What did it gain him?
Adam nodded at his father and at his own thoughts. “I should go back to him before he breaks something.”
The High Evolutionary gave Adam a small smile. “Alright, be safe. And, Adam,” — he pointed to his own nose hidden under his red helmet — “you have something here.”
Adam slowly raised his hand to rub his nose on the back of it and indeed found white flour streaks. He said a quick “excuse me” to his father as he climbed the steps back to the first floor.
Another embarrassment caused by Star-Lord. Adam couldn’t wait to get him out of here.
When he emerged, Adam was greeted with an enchanting and joyful melody; a timbre that he recognized as a piano but had never heard like this. He walked to the living room to see Star-Lord seated at the piano, eyes closed and body swaying.
Adam himself felt an itch to sway alongside him, but he repressed that feeling and moved to stand near the other man. It took a minute for Star-Lord to open his eyes and greet him.
“Adam!” Star-Lord said as he paused his playing. A shame. “I’m sorry if this bothers you. It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten to play on a grand piano! I just had to try it out! Your piano needs a tuning, though.” Star-Lord rapidly threw his thoughts at him, but Adam was distracted by one big question he had.
“What was that?”
“A waltz. The Gold and Silver Waltz, I think it's called.”
Adam shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“Um, it’s music, a type of song,” Star-Lord replied, a bit of disbelief entering his voice.
“That’s music?” Adam asked, pensive like a philosopher regarding a patron.
An ugly, horrified expression appeared on Star-Lord’s face, eyes wide and mouth in an open frown. If Adam didn’t know any better, he would have thought that Star-Lord had witnessed his own death. “Adam, you’re kidding! You’re breaking my heart. There’s no way you’ve never heard music before.”
Adam logically knew that music existed — it had been mentioned in literature often — but it’s hard to convey an auditory medium in a purely visual one, so Adam never quite understood what music referred to. “I knew instruments made pleasant sounds, but never have I heard it in a sequence that sounded so… cohesive?”
Star-Lord continued to frown, brows bunched together in a way that made Adam feel a small urge to smooth them out. “I feel like throwing up. Have you even lived if you’ve never heard music before?”
I guess not, Adam thought, refraining from debating about what constituted life.
Star-Lord scooted to the edge of the piano seat and patted the empty space beside him. “Sit. I’m giving you a crash course whether you like it or not.”
The piano seat was absolutely not big enough for two grown men to sit together, but Adam didn’t feel like arguing with the clearly passionate man, so he sat uncomfortably close to Star-Lord, their thighs touching. He pushed his hair to the side, careful not to have it in Star-Lord’s way.
“Okay, so on a piano, all these keys produce different sounds called notes. From left to right are the low notes to the high notes.” Star-Lord seamlessly moved his hand on the keys, quickly playing most of the keys in an ascending order. Adam watched Star-Lord move, impressed with the fluidity of his actions.
“Playing a single note is fine, but the real magic happens when you combine three or more notes to create a chord.” Star-Lord played a happy-sounding chord to demonstrate. “The combination of chords and notes is music.”
Star-Lord continued playing the song from before, with more difficulty now that Adam’s body restricted his movements. He spoke and played simultaneously. “These combinations can also be called songs. The one I'm playing right now is a type of song called a waltz, which is traditionally used for ballroom dancing.”
Star-Lord swayed to the music, body brushing against Adam. It reminded Adam of how he bumped against him while they were cooking. Star-Lord was playing a game to annoy him earlier, but now his touch was gentle, unintentional.
Adam was not used to so much touching in one day. He had half a mind to abruptly leave the room to spare himself from any more unnecessary contact, but then he would miss out on the music Star-Lord was sharing, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t somewhat enjoy it. Star-Lord did not have to know that, though.
He continued watching Star-Lord’s hands deftly move across the keys. He had tried playing the piano before, and while his random playing was nice, it lacked the melodic grace that the purposeful song Star-Lord played had. As Adam listened, he began to understand that music encompassed the dynamic of soft and loud notes, of long and short notes, and the rests in between. It was much more complex than he anticipated, and he briefly wondered how much that applied to other concepts outside his current understanding. He turned to give Star-Lord’s face a glance, the man’s eyes twinkling like the irony keys he played.
“But music isn’t all about dancing, ya know,” Star-Lord further explained. “To me, music is all about feelings. It can replace what you can’t put into words and accentuate what you can. It reaches across boundaries, creating an experience that anyone can understand. I mean, they call it the universal language for a reason. So, to me, saying that you’ve never heard music is like saying you’ve never breathed before.”
Star-Lord ended the song, the final cadence lingering with the night air like faraway thunder. Awe sparkled in Adam’s eyes as he was reminded of just how much he didn’t understand about humanity. Star-Lord took notice, a gentle smile overtaking his features.
“You’re a pretty curious dude, aren’t you?” Star-Lord said, close enough that Adam could feel his breath stroke his hair; it wasn’t wholly unpleasant. “It makes me wonder why you insist on staying here.”
The music dissipated, and Adam frowned, body slightly leaning away from the other man. “What do you mean?”
Star-Lord scratched his palm. “You don’t travel away from the castle often, if at all, right? You could experience so many things if you, ya know, go out and look for it. So why don’t you?”
Adam could laugh. What a silly question.
Star-Lord was absolutely right that curiosity was as innate in Adam as it was in any other human. The High Evolutionary had also pointed this out a time ago, and it had made Adam swell with pride. So much of himself was so… alien, that even a small resemblance to humanity made him latch on — and latch on tight he did.
The cooking, the crafts, the random hobbies, all for a semblance of what he lacked. He found them fun. Fun but unnatural, as if he was not meant to do them.
The occasional feelings of wrongness were when Adam would think, for a moment, about leaving the castle. To leave and search for what could make him feel at peace with the rest of humanity.
Adam would love to know more about the world. To experience it. However…
“I believe it's time to retire for the night,” Adam replied, staring at his own lap.
He wouldn’t do it. It was not his lot in life to be among others.
Yet here Star-Lord was.
Adam hoped for morning to come faster.
“Fine. Fine. Ignore me,” Star-Lord whispered to himself, tone carefree, but his fidgeting hands betrayed a nervousness toward Adam. Likely for the best, Adam thought. There was no need for Star-Lord to get too comfortable with him.
“Let me guide you to your sleeping arrangements for the night,” Adam said as he stood, a feeling of relief washing over him now that he was not so close to the other man.
He led Star-Lord to a room just past and below the entrance to the basement and bid a curt goodnight. Without waiting for Star-Lord’s response, Adam quickly ascended to his own room. He wouldn’t go to sleep (he didn’t need it), but he would lie on his bed as he imagined the taste of freedom and community harmonizing in an outside world he would never know.
★ ★ ★
Peter bumped his head on the bedroom door as it clicked shut.
So close. He was so close to getting Adam to open up about himself, yet it seemed he pushed a boundary too fast. Adam shut him out, ignoring any seeds Peter attempted to plant regarding leaving this place, and wasn’t that a problem for good ’ol, heroic Star-Lord?
He let out a tired sigh as he looked around the fairly plain bedroom. The only indication that someone lived here was what must have been hundreds of messy notebooks, books, and binders around the space. Overall, not the comfiest room — it was claustrophobic, even — but Peter could hardly complain. He didn’t find it hard to fall asleep at all.
When he next opened his eyes a few hours later, he came face to face with a masked man looming over him.
He screamed and jumped to a sitting position, back hitting the headboard of the bed.
“Fascinating,” the man said while straightening his posture. He held a lantern at his side, causing harsh and ominous shadows to partially cloak the red helmet he wore.
With unfocused eyes and labored breathing, Peter gawked at the man. “Wh-wh-what? Who?” Peter managed to stutter out.
“The High Evolutionary, Adam’s father,” the man stated while facing Peter. Luckily, his eyes were still readable under the helmet, even if mostly shrouded by darkness.
A shock ran through Peter’s body as he realized whose room he was currently crashing in. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I stole your bed.” Damn it, Adam. Why didn’t he tell him?!
“It’s alright. I simply needed old notes. Pay me no mind,” the High Evolutionary explained while moving toward a stack of notebooks.
Peter gave a hesitant nod and stared at the helmeted individual as he carefully combed through his old research. This was Adam’s dad? He was, for lack of a better word, unsettling. Adam made him sound sweet if reclusive, but the man currently in front of Peter reminded him of a children’s supervillain. His silence and lack of care in engaging in conversation made Peter sway uncomfortably on the bed. Why the helmet? Why was he staring at him in his sleep? What was he doing up so late? And WHY THE HELMET?
Oh shoot, he hadn’t introduced himself yet. “I’m Star-Lord by the way,” Peter clumsily mentioned.
“The hero of Knowhere. I’m aware.” The High Evolutionary hummed as he continued sifting through pages of research. He then shut the notebook he was holding, tucked it to his side, and took a few steps toward Peter, body straight and imposing. “Curious, why is an individual such as yourself in the mountains? Where is the rest of your team?” he asked, monotone.
Peter wasn’t sure if he liked where this line of questioning was headed, but he had prepared for it. “A solo mission. Just taking care of some outlaws.”
The High Evolutionary nodded. “There has been an increase lately.” He turned around and started heading toward the door. “A final question, Star-Lord. Are you religious?”
Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “No?”
“Then why work with the Universal Church of Truth?”
A deafening silence followed, interrupted by the thundering ticking of a nearby clock that Peter only just noticed. He swallowed, painfully loud. No, there was no way he could know that. He was guessing.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Peter said with a small, confused smile.
The High Evolutionary snorted, patronizingly amused. “Adam nor I are idiots.”
Peter felt his neck begin to sweat, suddenly very aware that he was in a room, alone, with a stranger throwing accusations, in the middle of nowhere.
He might be flarked.
“Let me speculate for a moment,” the High Evolutionary said while beginning to pace around the room. Peter stayed silent in bed, pulling the duvet closer to himself, as if it gave him protection. He glanced at his sword just out of reach on the bedside table.
“For reasons that are unimportant to me,” the High Evolutionary began, “the Church approaches you with an ask to retrieve something. You agree and are sent to this area. You injure yourself, betting on Adam letting you stay for a while as you recover.” He held his chin. “You had planned to convince Adam to leave the castle, intent on taking him back to the Church.”
Peter leaped off the bed, left hand reaching out to hold the grip of his sword, and right hand held out in a stopping gesture. “Sir, that’s ridic — .”
“An incredible idea.”
A clatter resonated in the room as Peter’s sword slipped out of his hold.
“Huh?” Peter intelligently said, like the genius he was.
The High Evolutionary chortled, his lantern swinging in front of him and giving his eyes a soft glow. “Has Adam told you much about his abilities?”
A phantom tingle of power could still be felt on his abdomen if Peter focused on it. He shook his head.
“I believe that Adam is a marvel. He came to me, ignorant and afraid, yet powerful. So powerful,” the High Evolutionary said, a little breathless. “He was quite literally glowing, and I don’t think he realized that he was not supposed to be. We spent many hours in my lab as I did everything I could to elucidate his powers and their functions. Over the years, I’ve concluded that his gem acts as a simultaneous power source and stabilizer. Adam has expressed less than fondness for his abilities, but ablating them is not so simple. All my attempts to extract the gem have left Adam in an incapacitated state — unresponsive, paranoid, and deluded.”
The High Evolutionary sighed, a tired slump overtaking his posture. “Perhaps it's time to admit that I lack the capabilities to help Adam in this endeavor. If the Church could attach the gem, then it stands to reason that they have the means to extract it. It is worth a shot at the very least.”
Peter stood there for a moment, trying to take in all the information. The High Evolutionary thought that taking Adam was a good idea? That was more than a shock to Peter. Hell, he half expected his father’s insistence to be half the reason that Adam didn’t leave the castle. But his father actually wanted him to leave? To the Church no less?
“You really trust the Church to handle that?” Peter whispered, as if Adam could hear them from the tower.
The High Evolutionary moved away, head wistfully upturned. “It’s less about trust and more about urgency. The gem needs to come off because I fear Adam cannot live a fulfilled life with it. Star-Lord, I approve of you taking Adam away because staying here will only harm him, until he does something… petrifying permanent.”
Peter shuddered, a heavy atmosphere suddenly engulfing the small bedroom. He thought back to Adam’s small voice, his flinching body, his dodgy responses. Could a small gem on his forehead make him feel so trapped — so afraid?
Jeweled crowns flashed in Peter's memories. Instinctively, his hand reached to grab his necklace. Maybe he could relate.
“Are you really okay with me taking Adam?” he asked with a wobble in his voice that he didn’t mean to reveal.
“So long as you bring him and the gem back safe and sound,” the High Evolutionary responded with no indication that he noticed Peter’s sudden emotion.
“The gem?”
The High Evolutionary scoffed. “I trust the Church to detach it, not to keep it.”
It was true that in the back of his mind, Peter was thinking of ways to get a powerful weapon like the gem away from the Church. Who knows what they’ll do with it?
“I’ll bring both back, unharmed. Promise.” Peter declared, facing the helmeted man with more confidence in his voice and eyes than he was actually feeling.
The High Evolutionary nodded, his back straight again. “Good, I am glad we had this chance to discuss," he said, unexpectedly sincere.
Tension released from Peter’s shoulders, the words soothing his frayed nerves. He matched the High Evolutionary by giving him a sincere smile of his own. “Me too.”
After wishing each other good night, the High Evolutionary left Peter with much to consider. This was practically a best-case scenario. Adam’s father was on his side, and he and Adam were getting along. But as much as Peter would have liked to believe that things would keep working out for him, he knew from experience that anything could go wrong.
Anything that could go wrong will go wrong, just seemed to be a Guardian’s law, as Heather once dubbed it. Peter called her pessimistic, but then he got shat on twice by birds on his way to an important dinner, and he learned not to doubt her and to never trust a bird.
Overall, he went to sleep optimistic, but mentally bracing for any roadblocks in the days ahead.
When he woke up, he washed himself in an attached bathroom and ascended to the kitchen, coffee at the forefront of his sleepy mind. He heard the clanking of plates just beyond the door.
“Yo, Adam, the baths you have here are so fancy. Heated, running water? I feel like royalty!” Peter joyfully said as he opened the kitchen door. His next sentence died on his lips when he saw Adam and the High Evolutionary sitting together at the breakfast nook. He blinked, confused, as he was under the impression that the man didn’t leave the basement much.
Neither looked different from last night; the High Evolutionary still wore a helmet and matching red attire, while Adam was still as gorgeous as he was yesterday, not even a stray hair on his soft-looking locks. Did this guy not get bedhead? Life could be so unfair.
“Good morning, Star-Lord,” the High Evolutionary said, disrupting Peter’s thoughts, “with your presence, we can now get started.”
Peter tensed. Started on what?
“Adam.” The High Evolutionary turned to his son. “Star-Lord has been deceiving you.”
Peter jumped. Screw coffee, this was way more of a shock to the system. This creepy bastard! Didn’t he agree last night to help Peter on his mission? Damn it! Peter knew it was too good to be true.
Peter practically tripped over his own legs as he rushed to stand next to Adam. “Wait, let me explain!”
“No need,” the High Evolutionary interrupted, “Adam has a right to know that I have requested your presence for the foreseeable future.”
For the second time in the last 12 hours, Peter’s mind seemed to short-circuit.
Meanwhile, Adam looked between his father and Peter, not at all pleased with the current situation.
The High Evolutionary continued, “After my last trip to Knowhere, I met Star-Lord and confided in him about my lack of interesting test subjects. Graciously, Star-lord volunteered his own body to be used in my science. An incredibly generous offer, I couldn’t say no. We agreed to have him come and stay for a while after he was done with matters in Knowhere. Isn’t that right, Star-Lord?”
Experiment?! His own body?! Peter would NOT agree to that, but he understood what the other man was doing and was prepared to play along. The High Evolutionary was getting a stern talking to later, though. “T-that’s right! I sort of got lost on the way, but Red Head over here told me to keep our deal on the down low, so I didn't tell you anything about it. If I had realized earlier that you were his son and this castle was exactly where I wanted to be, I would have told you my real reasons. Sorry about that, Goldie.” Peter finished with an apologetic smile.
Adam was stuck between wanting to glare at Peter and frowning disapprovingly at his father. In a careful voice, he said, “I do not approve of this, Father.”
“I do apologize for springing this on you, but I need Star-Lord for my research, so he will be staying,” the High Evolutionary said with no room for argument.
Adam let out a deep, long sigh and turned to face Peter with a harsh glare.
Peter held out his hand as a gesture of goodwill. “I swear I'll be a good roomie.”
Adam didn’t reply, staring at the outstretched hand as if it had personally insulted him. He then stormed upstairs, a loud slam reverberating as he shut his bedroom door, leaving Peter and the High Evolutionary in an awkward, prolonged silence.
“Kids, am I right?” Peter said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
The High Evolutionary looked toward Peter, in a good or bad way, Peter couldn’t tell under the helmet. He really wished he would take it off. “He’s simply not used to having to share a space. It makes him uneasy. He’ll get over this eventually.”
Peter sure hoped so. Adam disliking of him would throw a big wrench into the plan. Deciding to give Adam space for today, Peter aimed to spend the rest of the day at the stables while brainstorming ways to get back on Adam’s good side. As he walked outside, he failed to notice glowing, calculating eyes observing him from a window, equal parts curious and fearful for what Peter’s continued presence could actualize.
Notes:
Thank you for reading! Now here's a doodle from Jwi. An alternative scene where the High Evolutionary checked on Adam as he was dealing with a passed-out Peter (taking place immediately after chapter 1).
I love men that are so hairy they can't even hide it like they have hairy ass forearms and it's creeping up their wrists and knuckles and poking out of the collar of their button up shirt... your slutty whore DNA is bursting at the seams. Whore.
amandla
titsay
prguitarman
vaporwave
romaincrisis
theartofmadeline
