Yet another response to a prompt on the kink meme. For the link, go onto the guardians-kink meme and put this on the end of the address, it keeps deleting the whole web address. ?thread=747534#t747534

Night 1

When Gamora wakes she's encompassed by a frame of unfamiliar warmth that makes her freeze. A body is latched onto her and her first thought is that she is in danger. It unnerves her for never before has something come so close to Gamora without her being aware of it. The only consolation she has is that she is not (yet) in pain and so she gives herself time to steady her breathing before identifying what it is that has her in its clutches.

The first thing Gamora catalogues are the hands that are on her midriff. They don't hold her too tightly; just enough that Gamora would struggle to remove herself without alerting it. Puffs of air blow on the back of her neck and there is the faint scratch from something bristly – a beard. Realisation dawns as she realises who it is, only to be replaced by confusion. It's Peter, she is certain, but the question remains. What is he doing in her bed? And how did he manage to get in there without her knowing?

"Peter?" Gamora whispers as she tries to extract herself from Peter's hands. It doesn't work as the man makes a low, pitiful whine in response and tightens his grip. He doesn't seem to wake so Gamora tries again, this time putting a bit more force behind it. Unlike previously, Peter does loosen his grasp but freedom is only temporary as he quickly clasps onto her again, this time pressing against her more firmly.

"mmm, happy unbirthday," he mutters, rubbing his cheek against Gamora's neck.

"Unbirthday? What is that?" Gamora asks, wondering whether Peter is carrying out a Terran tradition she is unaware of. Peter doesn't reply and she realises that he must be speaking the words of his dreams. It is not something Gamora has ever encountered but then this is a night full of surprises. She waits to see if Peter says anything else.

"No, no, that's my seat. The mad hatter said so."

Gamora is thoroughly confuse and so instead of trying to interpret Peter's ramblings, she decides on what to do. She isn't sure what has brought Peter to her bed but she finds the experience not unpleasant. No one has ever held her in such a way except for perhaps her parents long ago and now that the fear of danger is no longer there, Gamora finds herself reluctant to remove him. It is with this thought that Gamora allows herself to succumb to sleep, secure in Peter's arms. When morning comes Peter is gone and Gamora is left wondering if she imagined the whole thing. To test this, she gives a casual comment to Peter regarding his sleep he gives no indication that he knows what occurred that night at all.

Night 2

Drax often dreams of his family and tonight is no exception. In his mind he relives a memory of he and wife reading to their daughter before retiring to their bed. Hovat looks as beautiful as the day he first saw her and a pang of sadness enters his heart that he does not understand. He has no reason to feel upset; his wife is with him and his daughter sleeps peacefully in the next room. Hovat distracts him from his sudden melancholy mood by gently pulling him to their bed. Together they settle under the covers and manoeuvre into the position they reside in every night, limbs tangled together and Hovat's head resting comfortably on his chest.

Except, something is wrong. Hovat's skin was never so rough and it is like she has shrunk. The hair that tickles his nose is curled rather than straight and the skin under his palms is chiselled, not supple. Nothing feels right and it's with this thought running through his min that Drax opens his eyes to find himself not in his family home but in the Milano. No matter how many times it happens, for a second it's like he's lost his family all over again and so he attempts to remove it by identifying who actually lays in his arms. Drax squints into the darkness and he recognises it to be Peter. The Terran is snuggled against his chest and Drax is astounded that he wasn't woken sooner. The only explanation his mind can come up with is that his subconscious must have assumed it was Hovat and so continued to let him sleep.

"Peter?" Drax's voice is a low grumble and Peter barely stirs in response. Drax considers calling his name again before deciding against it. The remnants of sleep still cling to Drax and though the situation is slightly odd, it is not, in fact, disagreeable. He has not held anyone in his arms for so long and he never thought he would again. Determining that he quite likes it, and considering Peter was the initiator, Drax allows himself to fall back asleep, content. When he wakes the next morning there is no sign Peter had ever been there.

Night 3

Rocket may have a bed, a custom-made one at that, but that doesn't mean he has to use it. He and Groot had been travelling together for so long that he'd grown used to sleeping on the branch bed the tree provided to him. Until Groot had been re-born and therefore too small to carry his weight, Rocket had never realised how much he liked it. Sleeping on an actually mattress, though comfier, felt strange and there was no doubt he was relieved when Groot was big enough for him to go back to sleeping with him. He'd missed the protection and metaphorical comfort Groot provided. Becoming a Guardian may change some things but this was one thing that would not change until, that is, they get a new and unexpected member in their little huddle.

The first thing Rocket notices is the smell. He's grown so used to Groot that he no longer notices the earthy, floral odour he emits and the change of scent is enough to draw him out of sleep. His nose twitches as he gets a hint of leather and a whiff of cream Rocket knows Quill uses when he shaves…

Rocket shoves Quill onto the floor.

"Hey buddy, get your own sentient tree, this one's mine!" Rocket barks and to his surprise, Quill doesn't wake. He barely even stirs.

"Hey Quill!" Rocket yells again and Groot tells him to be quiet in a hushed voice.

"Quiet? He's encroaching on our territory! He's got his own bed and I am not- hey, hey no, move!"

While he'd been focusing on Groot, Quill had started to shuffle back towards the tree and resume his previous spot, his head nuzzled against Groot's shoulder. A peaceful smile is plastered on his face as if he's not sleeping on rough bark at all. Too bad he's not going to enjoy it for long. Rocket is preparing to shove him off again when Groot stops him.

"I am Groot," he says, smiling down at Quill.

"Look, I know you're a big softie but-"

"'m not the doctor. That's him."

Rocket's mouth snaps shut when he hears Quill speaking. For a second, he's relieved. Quill's finally awake so that means he'll be able to hear Rocket when he tells him to fuck off. He then realises that Quill's eyes are still shut. Somehow, he's still asleep.

"'m the companion. We gotta run. Daleks."

Daleks? What the fuck is a dalek? Groot looks like he has as much of a clue as to what a dalek is as Rocket does but it doesn't end up mattering as Peter doesn't say anymore. Instead, he tries to nestle closer in Groot's hold. A wave of jealously flairs up in Rocket. Groot is his tree, not Quill's.

"I am Groot."

Groot gives Rocket a hopeful look and dips his head towards the crook of his arm, bent invitingly.

"I ain't sleeping with him there," Rocket argues petulantly. He's about to scurry off to his barely used bed in protest but Groot stops him by picking him up and cradling against his chest, forcefully putting him back into his usual sleeping spot.

"I told you Groot, I ain't – oh you have got to be kidding me." Rocket is ready to nudge the arm Quill just flung off him when his fingers start to absently brush through his fur and he relaxes against his will. A part of him objects to the treatment – he's not a damn pet – but another, larger part is reluctantly enjoying it. Rocket huffs and burrows further into Groot's elbow.

"Fine, he can stay." Rocket allows the ministrations to lull him back to sleep and when in the morning Quill isn't to be seen, he convinces himself it was all one seriously weird dream.

Peter's not sure what's happened, but these past few days he's been waking up feeling great. The last time he ever woken feeling so refreshed was before he left the Ravagers to go working on his own. He's not sure what's changed but he doesn't care and he hopes it lasts. So caught up in his good mood, Peter almost misses the disbandment of the huddle his teammates were in when they see him enter.

"Did I miss a meeting or something?" Peter asks, trying to keep his annoyance at being left out at bay.

"Actually, we would like to ask you something," Gamora answers.

"Well that doesn't sound ominous at all," Peter mumbles, not sure whether he should be worried or not. "Go ahead."

"Where do you sleep at night?"

Ok, Peter's fairly certain they've gone mad if that's seriously what they wanted to ask him.

"My bed?"

Rocket shakes his head disbelievingly. "He really doesn't know," he mutters, making Peter incredibly confused.

"What don't I know?"

"At night you have taken to coming into our beds and sleeping with us," Drax replies and Peter's brain momentarily short-circuits.

"I'm really hope you mean literally sleeping," he pleads and Gamora rolls her eyes while Rocket snickers.

"Of course, what else would I mean?" Drax questions.

"Uh, never mind." Memories of his childhood suddenly flood through Peter's mind. "So, it was true…"

"What was?" Rocket asks.

The memories keep coming and Peter hopes his cheeks aren't turning red. "Uh, it looks like this isn't the first time this sort of thing has happened. The Ravagers used to call me out on sneaking into their beds when I was younger but considering Yondu never confirmed it I'd just thought they were lying, you know, for a laugh. Oh man, this is gonna make it awkward when I next see them."

Peter gets more and more mortified as he remembers the jibes of his sort of family. From what he recalls, he'd probably climbed into bed with nearly all of them. Why hadn't Yondu told him?! Peter lets out a groan. It had been so much easier to deal with the teasing and the memories when he'd thought they'd made it up. With luck they'll never bring up again.

"Peter?" Then again, he still has to deal with his teammates. Oh god, what if he'd groped Gamora in his sleep? That seemed unlikely, considering he's still alive.

"Peter!"

"Huh, what?" Peter's jerked back to reality by Gamora's shout right in his ear.

"Are you alright?"

"I am, but I mean, are you? I don't mean to go climbing in your beds, I'm not even aware of it at the time. I'm sorry, by the way; I'll try not to do it again." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. He's not entirely sure how he'll stop, but he gets that it probably made them really uncomfortable. Well, at least his good night sleeps have an explanation. And that one splinter he woke up with.

Groot shakes his head with a smile. "I am Groot."

"Um…translation?"

Rocket sighs and says, a big grudgingly, "He said you don't have to bother."

"Peter's brow creases. "I don't?"

Drax nods. "Your presence is not unwelcome. It is nice to not be alone at night."

"Are you sure? Because it would be totally cool if you weren't, I could-"

"Listen; you could either accept that we don't give a shit or you can worry and waste your time trying to come up with ways to stop," Rocket interrupts.

"Why bring it up then?" Peter is pretty sure remaining in blissful ignorance might have done his brain a favour.

"We weren't sure if there was something wrong," Gamora replies. "But they're right. It's fine as long as you're ok."

"I guess?" This was not what Peter was expecting to wake up to but considering the lives they lead, it could have been a hell of a lot worse than some sleepwalking, or was it sleep-cuddling? Nope, Peter removes the images in his head. It's embarrassing enough without his brain making him seem like some needy little kid. Thankfully, Rocket diverts his attention with a new question.

"So, what are daleks?"