Follow-up to "Why Did You Wake Me?" also in this book

"I don't think she likes me," Peter groaned quietly, sitting in the pilot seat of the ship and swiveling the chair back and forth nervously. His friends sat behind him, listing to him complain for the last several hours and growing impatient at the incessant whining session. "She sits in her room all day and barely says two words to me."

"I agree that she does not like you. It's obvious and you are quite right in finally noticing it," Drax nodded eagerly, reaching out to slap his friend supportively on the arm, only to have him pull it from his reach. "This makes you sad. Would you like to me to speak to her for you and find out why her hatred runs so deeply?"

"Hatred?" Peter scoffed, choking on his words. "I never said hatred, man! That's a really strong choice of words, don't ya think?"

"Nah, hell," Rocket joined in, "I hated you for the longest time after I met you. Give the girl some time."

"I've known her since we were kids. How much longer should I give her?"

Rocket raised his hand to give his answer when he stopped abruptly, his mouth hanging agape as he tried to recover from what he really wanted to say. "Um...well, I suppose..." he stopped, realizing that there was no good answer, "yeah, she hates you. You're screwed, pal."

"I am Groot."

"Thanks," Peter sighed, giving his friend a nod as he turned the chair away from them all, "you're absolutely of no help, just as I figured. I don't know why I even talk to you guys."

~~~

Later on that night, once you thought that everyone had tucked in for sleep, you decided that maybe a little music might help you relax enough to sleep as well. Classical music was one of those older Earth genres that seemed to soothe you, and now that you were travelling with this new group of Guardians, you were more anxious and on alert than ever before. Peter was doing his best to make you feel comfortable and at home with them, but your nerves only left you to seclude yourself more than join in, and you feared that he was taking it as avoiding him. But now, as you played the music that usually worked, you only found that your mind was racing more and more, and your once foolproof method was now completely ineffective.

"(Y/N)?"

The meek voice from the other side of your wall caught you off guard, jolting you into the realization that your time in here hadn't been as private as you might have thought. "Peter?"

"Yeah, sorry," he replied, still through the wall, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but Pete...if you want to talk to me, just come over here."

"Um...sure...yeah..." he stammered, and you could hear him stumbling around in his room as he tried to gather himself before leaving. A few bangs and bumps made you smile as you envisioned what he was doing over there, likely tripping over his own feet before he finally appeared at your door and knocked gently to wait for your approval.

"I already said that you could come over," you answered, "just open the door." A few long seconds ticked by before the door finally moved, and he took a few cautious steps over the threshold. "Are you scared of something, Pete?"

"No," he quickly argued, "no...not scared, pfft, who you talking to, this guy?"

"Convincing," you smirked, pointing him to a spot on the end of your bed. "Okay then, sit. I dare you."

"Woman, please," he waved dismissively, crossing the room in long strides to reach the furthest edge of your bed, sitting quickly, though his body language was clearly that of being uncomfortable every step of the way. When he stilled, he was sitting stick-straight with his legs crossed awkwardly and his hands tapping against them. "See? Nailed it."

"Yes, clearly."

"Hey, give me a break, it's been a while since I've been in a girl's room."

"Okay, so what brings you into one now?"

"That music you're playing...what is it?"

"Rachmaninoff."

"Sure, sure, okay....yeah," he nodded emphatically, though his expression was that of confusion. He furrowed his brow as his mind searched for recognition, but he sighed in exasperation when he came up with nothing and finally had to ask. "Rachmani-who?"

"Do you not know any classical music? Even from when you were still on Earth?"

"Can't say that I do. Unless you count my mix tape as classical?"

"Sorry, I don't," you chuckled, the sound of your laughter seemingly easing him slightly, "but I would say that they're classics. A little bit of a difference."

"Hmm." He again sat still, looking uncomfortable once more in the awkward silence that was hanging in the air between you. He looked around your room, realizing that he hadn't been in here before, other than on the day that you moved in and he had helped to gather a few items from around the ship to give you a sense of home. Nothing in here had truly been yours, other than a few books and a couple of pictures that the team had bought for you at a recent stop. "Do you like it here, (Y/N)?" he finally blurted out. "Are you regretting your decision to stay with us...with me?"

"No, I don't regret it all," you answered cautiously, measuring your words, "it's just taking longer to adjust than I thought."

"I thought you were avoiding me."

"Maybe I was, a little, but it's only because I don't know you anymore. I suppose that hiding in my room isn't the best way to get to know you, now is it?"

Taking a chance and pushing himself, Peter slid a little closer to you, and when you didn't shy away, he closed the gap between you even more. "I'm pretty much the same guy. Still just a kid in a grown-up body."

"That much I did know."

"And still, you stay."

"Growing up is overrated," you nodded, "so I'm cool with it. So long as you know when to shut that off and keep us from getting killed out here."

"I promised you that I'd keep you safe from the second you stepped foot on board, and I meant it. Now I just need to know how to keep you happy," his voice quieted as he brought a hand up to his chin, deep in thought. "How about a dance to that stuff you call music?"

"That stuff?" you scoffed. "That stuff you call music would never have existed without my stuff." When he simply smirked and stood to hold out his hand in offering, you froze in place and felt your heart began to race in your chest. "I uh...I don't dance."

"I'll show you."

"I don't know..."

"I'll teach you how to dance, and you can teach me about this Romanoff person."

"Rachmaninoff," you corrected, "Romanoff is an Avenger. An Avenger who could kick your ass from here to next Christmas."

Peter simply smiled, and you weren't sure at first if he was envisioning that ass kicking, or if he was smiling at you in anticipation of you finally taking his outstretched hand. You hoped for the latter and stood, allowing him to pull you next to him to begin your first dance lesson. "I'd rather not think about her right now," he answered softly, "when I finally tricked you into being this close to me."

"I didn't have to be tricked."

"Now you tell me."

"You never asked."

"Oh, okay..." he agreed, beginning to move you around the room as he led your dance, "so...if that's how things are supposed to go...then if I ever wanted to, I don't know...maybe kiss you at some point, I'd have to ask?"

You looked up at Peter as the two of you moved, but he didn't look down at you right away. When you stopped your feet and jolted him out of his thoughts, he finally met your gaze and shook his head in confusion, "what?" he asked abruptly. "Too far?"

"No, I was just giving you the opportunity. I'm trying to make this easier for you."

"Oh, thanks...oh! Oh, okay!" he finally realized what you were saying, pausing to appreciate this moment before taking the leap that could either bring you closer or push you away for good. "Well then, I suppose there's no time like the present-"

His words were cut short when you couldn't listen anymore, moving your hand around his neck to pull him down closer to start the kiss yourself. When he didn't push away, but instead agreed energetically, only pulling you in closer, something inside of you couldn't help but make you laugh, giving you almost uncontrollable giggles that broke the moment apart.

"Really?" he asked in a whine. "I know it's been a while, but am I that bad?"

"No, not at all," you laughed, bringing your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment, "it's just that all I can think of is that Peter's hands are on my butt."

"Okay, so here, I'll try again," he insisted, connecting again, only to find you laughing even more. "Alright, that time my hands were nowhere near your butt!"

"I know, I was just remembering when they were there the last time!"

A loud banging from the far wall of your room shocked the two of you enough to force you apart and silence your laughter, leaving you both wide-eyed and reluctant to try again. "Congratulations, Peter! You were wrong after all!" Drax called out to him from his room. "If she has agreed to let you press your hands to her backside then she does like you! You can stop whining to us every day about how her lack of affection towards you is diminishing the security of your manhood! What a joyous day for us all!"