( peter makes a noise that's part scoff, part exhale, part sigh — he's positive that rodney is not, in fact, his best bet of figuring out what's going on here, but it's fine. rodney can have his ego if that's what it's going to take to get him through this. )
Uh-huh, ( he murmurs disinterestedly. quill doesn't seem to have rung any bells with rodney which — it's not exactly a blow to peter, per se, but he's not sure if he's relieved or disappointed. he's pleased he doesn't have to go through the 'no, please don't call me star-lord, that's not where I am in my life right now' conversation for, like, the fiftieth time this month, but there's a certain comfort and ease that comes with at least being recognised.
he drops the letter down on his bed, turning on his heels to face the door. he wants to try the door, but based on rodney's attitude and general everythingness, peter's pretty sure he'll just make himself look like an idiot. so he doesn't. he stands there and he considers his options, and he wonders if he's as old as he feels right now.
he glances back towards rodney. )
—Look, ( he says after a moment, irritation all but dissipating. ) I'm, like, definitely not as hungover as I should be right now, but that doesn't mean— ( he waves a hand at the motel room, then at rodney. ) I don't kinda want to just crawl back into that bed and go back to sleep and hopefully wake back up on my ship, so if you could just ( he motions with his hands as if to say, 'just be smaller and quieter in literally every respect', ), that'd be really great. Thank you.
( a beat. ) If you want to try the blood thing, fine, whatever, I've been through weirder. I mean, it's not like you're going to be offering yourself up, right?
no subject
Uh-huh, ( he murmurs disinterestedly. quill doesn't seem to have rung any bells with rodney which — it's not exactly a blow to peter, per se, but he's not sure if he's relieved or disappointed. he's pleased he doesn't have to go through the 'no, please don't call me star-lord, that's not where I am in my life right now' conversation for, like, the fiftieth time this month, but there's a certain comfort and ease that comes with at least being recognised.
he drops the letter down on his bed, turning on his heels to face the door. he wants to try the door, but based on rodney's attitude and general everythingness, peter's pretty sure he'll just make himself look like an idiot. so he doesn't. he stands there and he considers his options, and he wonders if he's as old as he feels right now.
he glances back towards rodney. )
—Look, ( he says after a moment, irritation all but dissipating. ) I'm, like, definitely not as hungover as I should be right now, but that doesn't mean— ( he waves a hand at the motel room, then at rodney. ) I don't kinda want to just crawl back into that bed and go back to sleep and hopefully wake back up on my ship, so if you could just ( he motions with his hands as if to say, 'just be smaller and quieter in literally every respect', ), that'd be really great. Thank you.
( a beat. ) If you want to try the blood thing, fine, whatever, I've been through weirder. I mean, it's not like you're going to be offering yourself up, right?