like pulling teeth

Status: Complete
Published: 14 September 2024
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,834
Rating: General Audiences
Tags: Mantis/Nebula (Marvel), Mantis (Marvel), Nebula (Marvel), Peter Quill, nebula tries to talk feelings and it goes about how you expect it the first time, but it's fine it's fine don't worry about it, peter tries to be a good if slightly annoying friend about it

AO3 Mirror

Ending Notes:

Original AO3 Note: so this fic also wasn't supposed to be this long but. well. you know how it is. my long-windedness strikes again.

as always i'm bugborgs on tumblr if you ever wanna chat about these idiots and if you happen to drop by yell at me to work on werewolf au again i have been slacking so hard on that front lately

“Quit being a fucking dickhead!”

Mantis’s expression is thunderous, her face inches from Nebula’s, who’s wearing a similarly stormy look on her face. Mantis has her by the front of her jacket, hands curled into angry fists in the fabric, and she yanks Nebula close to glare at her.

There’s a too-long pause that feels like minutes but is only seconds, and then Peter is shoving himself between them and trying to push them apart.

“Just let ’em fight,” Rocket crows, goading. “It’ll be good for them!”

“Not helping!” Peter shoots him a quick glare before refocusing on the two Guardians on either side of him looking like they’re about to make the fight physical. He’s got a hand on each of their shoulders, and he gives them an experimental push to try and increase the distance between the two of them.

They’ve only just backed off enough that Peter isn’t squeezed uncomfortably between them, but they’re still glaring at each other over his shoulder, and Mantis still has one hand gripping Nebula’s jacket.

Peter slowly moves his hand away from Nebula’s shoulder and down to the hand fisted in her jacket, and carefully starts to peel Mantis’s hand away. “How about,” he says, eyeing them both, “we let go of that, and then we all back away and don’t kill each other?”

There’s an uncomfortable beat as Peter wonders, briefly, if the others would be quick enough to step in and help him separate them if things came to blows—then he wonders if they might not be more inclined to just watch it happen, and he hopes it wouldn’t get that far. Mantis and Nebula had fought before, sure, and often, but it had never gotten physical before and, fuck, Nebula must be really pissed off is she’s being so unusually quiet—

He feels Mantis’s hand go slack and then withdraw. “Fine,” she says, icy, and Peter relaxes just a tiny fraction.

“What about you, Nebs? Let’s take a breath and—well, alright, stomping off is fine too.”

Okay, maybe not ideal, but at least there hadn’t been any bloodshed. That counts as a win, right? He watches her stalk off for a moment before sighing and turning back to Mantis, only to find she’d gone and stormed off too in the opposite direction.

Great.

“That could have gone better,” Rocket remarks.

“Could have gone worse, too.” Peter runs a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly very tired. “We should make sure they’re okay. I think that’s the closest they’ve ever gotten to actually fighting.”

“You should have just let them fight it out, get it out of their systems,” Rocket says. “Maybe then they would finally shut up and quit arguing.”

“That,” Peter replies, “would have ended very badly.”

But Drax shakes his head and points at Rocket. “I agree with Rocket. Nothing reinforces bonds better than a good spar.”

“That might work for you, but I think if we let them do that they might actually kill each other.” Peter sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose, and is quietly thankful that things hadn’t gotten physical, no matter what Rocket and Drax think.

“Hey Nebs.” Nebula glances up as Peter pulls out the chair opposite of her and drops into the seat. He’s got a plate of food with him and he doesn’t look like he’ll be leaving anytime soon. “You good?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She goes back to her holo, or tries to.

“You’ve been kinda mopey lately.”

She makes a face at him. “I’m not moping.”

“Uh-huh.” His fork clinks against the plate as he takes a bite of his food. He leans across the table to peek at the holo. “Looking up bounties? You planning to take off for a while?”

“Just a short job or two,” Nebula mutters, swatting dismissively at him until he takes the hint and sinks back into his chair. “Something to get me off planet for a while.”

She says this with enough bitterness that it makes Peter pause midbite, surprised. “I thought you liked Knowhere, especially now that we’re fixing it up.”

“I do,” Nebula says, not at all convincingly, “but I feel restless. And a job would be a more productive use of my time than moping.” She says “moping” with a sneer.

Peter chews thoughtfully. “You’re still mad about that fight with Mantis, aren’t you?” The scowl she gives him tells him that she is. “You know what would be easier than going off planet and hunting down some random outlaws? Talking to Mantis.”

“The last time we talked we got into a fight,” Nebula says flatly.

“Yeah, but if you go up to her and go “Hey Mant, sorry I was being such a—what’d she call you, a dickhead?—the other day, let’s be friends again,” I am positive she’ll forgive you and you’ll be back to normal in no time.” When Nebula just glares at him, unconvinced, he lets out a dramatic, exasperated sigh. “What were you two even fighting about anyways?”

Nebula slits her eyes suspiciously. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No, that’s the one thing she won’t talk about.”

Nebula snorts. “At least she can shut up about some things.”

“Hey.” Peter points his fork at her disapprovingly. “Comments like that are why Mantis thinks you’re a dickhead.”

He expects Nebula to get mad, insult him or maybe even just leave, but she just frowns and sinks into her seat a little, and, hell, that wasn’t the reaction he’d thought she’d have. Now she really does look mopey.

“Um,” he says.

Nebula glares at her holo, angrily scrolling through the listed jobs and says nothing. Tentatively, Peter asks, “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” she says flatly.

“It’s just, you’re uh, taking this kind of hard,” Peter says. “You don’t usually get so—uh, sulky about your fights.”

Nebula taps away angrily at her holo, her frown deepening, and Peter thinks at first that she might keep trying to dance around it, but then she mutters, “She wasn’t taking me seriously.”

Peter blinks. “Not to be a jerk, but that doesn’t exactly sound new for you two. You’re all bark and no bite when it comes to Mantis. If you were yelling threats or something then of course she wasn’t gonna take you seriously.”

“I wasn’t threatening her.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I wasn’t."

"So, you were talking about…?” he prompts.

Nebula doesn’t say anything, and he makes an exasperated noise.

“Nebs, come on, this is like pulling teeth.”

“I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Clearly you do, otherwise you would have yelled at me and stomped off already.”

Nebula glares at him and Peter thinks that this time she might actually get up and leave, but she doesn’t. She squirms uncomfortably in her seat, working her jaw, and then finally she sets the holo down and says, haltingly, “We were talking about…feelings.”

“Wait, hang on. You were trying to talk feelings with Mantis.”

“Yes,” Nebula says, disgruntled.

“You? Infamously repressed and closed-off Nebula? Miss ‘I-would-sooner-explode-than-talk-about-emotions-especially-when-they’re-mine’?”

“I was trying to tell her I liked her,” Nebula snaps.

Peter stares at her, expression blank as he processes what she’s just said, and then his eyes go wide and he looks at Nebula like she’s just dropped a bomb on him. He gapes dumbly at her, his breakfast wholly forgotten.

“Wait, wait, hang on. When you say like do you mean, like, romantically?”

“Yes.” Nebula says stiffly.

Peter leans in and studies her. “You have a crush on Mantis?”

Nebula scowls. “Yes.”

“I just…really?”

“Quill,” she growls.

“Sorry, sorry, just…come on you two were just fighting like two days ago!”

“Four days,” she grits out.

“Four days ago!”

“I’m aware.”

“You guys haven’t even made up yet!”

“I know.”

Peter goes quiet as he processes more. This isn’t quite what he had expected when he came to check in on Nebula. He must have been silent for too long, because Nebula starts to look that angry sort of squirmy she gets when she’s uncomfortable; she looks ready to bolt, and he wracks his brain trying to figure out what to say next.

“She…she wasn’t…mean about it, was she?” he finally asks hesitantly. He feels stupid even asking it, because if Mantis is anything it definitely isn’t mean.

“No,” Nebula says sullenly. “She wasn’t mean, but she wasn’t taking me seriously. Or she didn’t understand what I meant. Or I didn’t explain it well. I don’t know, but it pissed me off.”

“And, let me guess, you started yelling?”

“Maybe.”

“Nebs.”

Nebula crosses her arms and hunches her shoulders, looking angry and embarrassed and just miserable. “It’s hard, okay?” she snaps. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Did you consider showing her what you meant? Y’know, let her touch you and use her powers?”

“We didn’t get that far, on account of the whole getting pissed off.”

Peter scrubs a hand across his face and sighs, and they lapse into silence. Nebula pointedly avoids looking at Peter, instead opting to glare down at the table. Peter pushes his food absently around the plate with his fork.

“So…,” he starts. Nebula eyes him, still frowning. “You have a crush on Mantis, huh.”

“I thought we established this.”

“Yeah, I’m still surprised, I guess. I wouldn’t have guessed Mantis was your type.” Nebula slits her eyes at him and he hastily continues, “It’s just, you’re so…mean and growly, and no offense but you’re kind of a neurotic control freak. And you always seem so annoyed by her—”

“I have to be to keep the rest of you idiots in line,” Nebula snarls, “and she does annoy me sometimes—”

“So, then what’s the draw? Cos, like, if your only reasoning is that you think she’s hot or something then we might have to have some words—”

“Oh, what, are you going to fight me?”

“Okay, you don’t have to be so rude about it, but yeah, I at least gotta threaten you a little. Make up for all the years I didn’t know I had a sister, y’know. Gotta do my brotherly duty of threatening you into behaving, or whatever. I dunno.” He shrugs and Nebula snorts, almost laughing, and that’s a good sign, he thinks. “Plus, if I’m remembering right, you threatened to break all of my bones when Gamora and I started getting serious.”

“I would have, too.”

“I know. So…”

“No, that’s not it,” Nebula huffs. “I said sometimes, alright? I do enjoy her company, too. She’s…” Nebula shifts impatiently, wishing they didn’t have to do this whole song and dance. And he’s just looking at her expectantly, head propped on one hand. “She's ridiculous and weird and sometimes she does stupid shit that drives me crazy—”

“Not doing a great job at convincing me so far, just fyi,” Peter interrupts. He doesn’t say it like he’s mad; if anything he looks like he’s trying not to laugh at her.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way! She is, and I…like that about her. I like how much she likes knives, even though she’s way too weirdly enthusiastic about it. I like it when we spar together, and I like that we can argue something stupid and that she isn’t afraid to yell at me.”

There’s more, of course there is, there’s so much more than that—she likes Mantis’s laugh and the way her eyes glitter when she’s happy and how her antennae bob when she’s excited; she likes how Mantis dances along to Peter’s music and the infuriating way she so easily manages to drag Nebula along in her antics. Most of all, she just likes how she feels when they’re together.

She tries to tell Peter this but, fuck, every word feels like wrenching teeth from her own jaw. Honestly, she might have preferred it. Nebula is not cut out for this sappy shit.

But Peter seems to believe her because he takes pity on her and puts a stop to her floundering, and with a goofy grin on his face he says, “Aww, that’s sweet, Nebs. I didn’t know you were such a sap.” Nebula grabs him by the front of his shirt and the look she gives him is murderous. He’s surprised it took this long for her to threaten bodily harm.

He laughs. “No, really, I’m convinced, I swear.” He raises his hands in surrender and Nebula slowly lets him go. “I am still surprised, though. I always figured you were more of the ‘hold all my feelings inside and then die’ kind of person. You’re not the most uh, emotionally forward person I know. I kind of figure anyone who wants to date you would have to make the first move.”

Nebula grunts, not disagreeing.

Peter drums his fingers on the table. “So…Mantis.”

“Mantis.”

“What’s your plan?”

“Plan?” Nebula frowns.

“Yeah. You are gonna try again, right? And not just run away from your feelings and go beat up some criminals?”

Nebula shifts in her seat, mouth pressed into a thin line. “I would like to make it up to her,” she says slowly. “And then…attempt to court her, maybe. Assuming she is interested. She might not be.”

“Don’t act so mopey about it already. You haven’t even made a move yet.”

“I’m not moping,” she grumbles, “I’m being realistic. She might not be, and I’ll just be making a fool of myself.”

“Or, she might actually really like you, too.”

Nebula hesitates. “Maybe,” she concedes. “At the very least, I would like us to get along again, even if she doesn’t feel the same way.”

Peter nods. “So what do you have in mind?”

She frowns at him. “I don’t know. What do you suggest?”

Peter raises his brows at her. “You want my help?”

Nebula gives him a look Peter recognizes as her you’re a fucking idiot look. “You successfully courted my sister, did you not?”

“Drax was married,” Peter points out. “He could help, too.”

“He would just tell me to gift her the most impressive knife I could find, which I am already considering.”

Peter nods approvingly. “She does like knives.”

“He’s also Mantis’s best friend,” Nebula continues. “They tell each other everything. If I involved Drax, he would just blurt it out to her before I could do anything myself. Or he would say we’re incompatible and probably call one of us hideous.” Peter nods again. That was also true.

“You can try an apology dinner,” he suggests. “Food smooths everything over. You can get all her favorites, and make it real romantic too.”

Nebula shakes her head, frustrated. “That sounds too…date-like.” She says date like it physically hurts her.

“I thought you wanted to date her. Isn’t that the whole point of this “make-up-and-court-her’ stuff?”

“Yes, but I can’t just jump straight to asking her out like that,” Nebula protests. “And I still need to apologize first.”

Peter considers this for a moment, “You should ask her to dance with you,” he says finally.

“Dance?”

“Yeah. Next time there’s a party of whatever in the plaza. Dancing’s a great ice-breaker. And it doesn’t have to be inherently romantic—just look at all the people who join in when the tunes come out.”

“How will dancing help me?”

“Mantis will surely be so charmed by your asking her to dance that all animosity will be forgotten and you can both make up and start flirting.”

Nebula scowls. “I don’t know how to dance,” she says flatly.

“You were dancing during the Christmas party! I saw you!”

“That was hardly a dance! That barely counts.”

“It was dancing, no matter how lame it was,” Peter insists. “And I didn’t say you had to be good at dancing. It’s just about having fun, y’know? I don’t think Mantis will care about how good you are, it’s like, the gesture of it.”

Nebula eyes him.

“I think,” he continues, “it will mean a lot to her if you swallow your pride and ask her to dance.”

Nebula hesitates.

“Something she really enjoys doing,” Peter stresses.

“I guess it can’t hurt,” she says slowly.

“Come on, don’t lose your nerve now.” Peter gives her shoulder a little shove, motions towards Mantis with his chin. “Go. Go.”

Nebula glares at him and slaps his hand away. “Stop that,” she hisses.

They’re in the plaza. Peter’s got his Zune out and there’s music playing over the many speakers that have set up in the streets. There’s already a small crowd of people joining in on the fun—Peter’s music has been surprisingly popular Knowhere—and even more people just bobbing their heads along to the beat as they pass through or while they work.

“Nebula come on, this is the whole reason we’re even doing this right now.”

Rocket chooses that exact moment to pop up and says, “The hell’s goin’ on?”

Peter says, “She’s chickening out!”

“You’re chickening out?” Rocket demands. “After all that big talk about finally making a move?”

“I am not chickening out,” Nebula says through gritted teeth. “I’m just…I’m waiting for the right moment.”

“The right moment? Ugh, you’re killin’ me, Nebs,” Rocket groans.

“Telling you was a mistake,” Nebula growls. “It was bad enough having Peter hassling me about this—”

“We don’t have all night here,” Peter says. “Do something already!”

Nebula glares at them both and hisses, “When this is over, I’m going to gut you both.” Then she sucks in a breath and makes her way towards Mantis before she can change her mind.

Mantis notices her approach and—it’s not hostility, but there’s a look on Mantis’s face like she’s wondering what the hell she’s doing as she watches Nebula. She stops in front of Mantis and hesitates, suddenly regretting everything. Mantis raises a brow as the silence stretches on to an awkward degree.

“Mant,” Nebula says finally.

“Nebula,” says Mantis, still looking confused.

There’s another pause, this one briefer than the last, and Mantis opens her mouth to say something else but before she can, Nebula blurts, “Want to dance?” It comes out a little more aggressive than Nebula had intended, almost angry, and she’s kicking herself for not controlling her tone better, especially with the way Mantis is now looking at her in surprise.

“With you?”

“That was the implication, yes.” It takes all of her willpower to keep her voice steady.

“I didn’t think you liked dancing that much.”

“I’ve danced before.” Nebula can feel herself start to get defensive, feels the tension starting in her shoulders, and she forces herself to relax.

“You’ve never asked anyone to dance with you before,” Mantis clarifies.

“Yeah, well.” Nebula works her jaw, feeling foolish. This was stupid. What the hell was she doing, thinking this was a good idea? She’ll apologize to Mantis later, but this wasn’t working (and she was definitely going to just smother those stupid feelings and never think of them again). She shakes her head and starts to step away. “Nevermind, I—”

Before she can finish Mantis catches Nebula’s wrist with one hand and says, “Hey, wait a second. I didn’t say no.” Nebula eyes her, eyes the fingers encircling the wrist of her metal arm, and Mantis slowly stands up, moving carefully as if any sudden movement will make Nebula bolt. “I was surprised, is all. Let’s dance.”

She lets Mantis lead her away from the tables, somewhere with more room to dance.

Nebula feels exceedingly silly. She’s overly aware of her body and limbs, and she feels utterly graceless. She tries not to think about it too hard, tries instead to focus on getting through this and working up the nerve to broach the matter at hand with Mantis. It gets her through the song, and then another, and then one more.

Mantis’s laughter pulls her out of her head. She’s watching Nebula, eyes crinkling at the corners and a smile on her face and she says, “How can someone so graceful and certain in any other situation be such a clumsy dancer!”

Nebula splutters, “I don’t—dancing isn’t something I usually do!”

“It’s like fighting! If you can fight you can dance!”

“Combat is different,” Nebula insists.

“You’re just too uptight,” Mantis laughs, shaking her head. “Relax. Just have fun.”

The song ends and then another one starts up before swiftly flipping to a different one, and then another, and when Nebula looks up she sees Peter fiddling with the Zune and—oh, this one is much slower. Nebula glares at him over Mantis’s shoulder and he flashes her two thumbs up and a wide grin before passing the little device back to Rocket and scurrying off.

Nebula’s still thinking about how she was definitely going to gut him later when she’s suddenly and forcefully reminded of where she is and what she’s doing by Mantis taking her hands and guiding them to rest on her waist. Nebula startles and Mantis smiles at her, playful. “We’re dancing, aren’t we?”

“Barely,” Nebula somehow manages. Words fail her as Mantis lays her hands on Nebula’s shoulders. And, yeah, they’re barely dancing at that point, mostly just swaying loosely as music plays overhead, which is fortunate because Nebula isn’t sure she has the mental faculties for anything more complicated than this right now.

And—shit, she should say something now, shouldn’t she?

“Hey, Mantis. About the other day.” Mantis tilts her head slightly. “I’m sorry I was…”

“Being such a dickhead?” Mantis teases.

“I was going to say angry,” Nebula huffs, “but sure.”

Mantis shrugs. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. We argue all the time.” She says it lightly, like it doesn’t matter.

“Seriously, Mant—”

“Nebula, why are you making this such a big deal? We fight all the time. I don’t take it personally anymore. We can pretend it never happened.” Mantis fusses with the collar of Nebula’s shirt before smoothening out the fabric. “Just listen to the music and relax. We’re dancing. We’re having fun.”

“I’m trying to tell you something,” Nebula says insistently.

Nebula’s tone is enough to make Mantis pull away and look at her. Her hands slide off of Nebula’s shoulders, and she’s pulled away enough that only Nebula’s fingertips are still on her waist. “What is it?”

“I—” Nebula’s chest constricts, feels tight and funny in a way she hates more than when her cybernetics are damaged and acting up, now that she’s faced with the reality that she’s actually trying to tell Mantis how she feels. Mantis is looking at her, torn between wariness and concern. Nebula sucks in a breath and tries again. “Look, Mant, I—”

Gods, why was this so hard? This shouldn’t be that hard.

Mantis hesitantly reaches for Nebula’s shoulder, a reassuring touch, but she stops short of actually touching. There’s a look in her eyes like she—like she knows what Nebula is getting at, and doesn’t know what to do about it or how to help.

Nebula works her jaw, and then abruptly shoves close and ducks her head and suddenly she’s kissing Mantis, hard and clumsy and desperately unplanned.

Mantis freezes, stunned. Her heart and mind both are racing and she tries to will herself into making some kind of response, but before she can recover, Nebula backs off, looking almost like she can’t believe she just did that, and studies her in that intense sort of way that she looks at everything.

Whatever she’s looking for, it doesn’t seem like she’s found it, because suddenly she looks like she’s going to bolt, panic and regret flashing briefly across her features before the mask returns and her expression goes blank. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Wait, Nebula—”

“I shouldn’t have done that—”

“Nebula—”

“We can pretend this never happened,” Nebula says tersely, stamping down on the little voice in the back of her mind that mocks her for ever thinking her affections might be reciprocated. “We can pretend this never happened and go back to normal, and we will never speak of it again.”

And then she starts to back away, and that’s enough to spur Mantis into action.

“Hey!” she shouts, lunging to grab at Nebula, any part of her that she can reach, to keep her from running. She catches her by the wrist again, tighter this time, as Nebula turns to bolt, and she yanks her back. Anger and frustration and excitement roil away inside of her. Mantis digs her fingers into Nebula’s sleeve and she says, “You don’t get to kiss me and then just leave! Like a coward!”

Nebula glares, bristling defensively. “I’m not a coward! You weren’t—”

“Shut up,” Mantis orders, grabbing a fistful of Nebula’s shirt.

Nebula’s expression is thunderous, her shoulders tensing almost as if she was expecting a fight, and she opens her mouth to shout back probably, but before she can say anything else Mantis yanks with all of her might and kisses her back, fiercely, not even caring that the force of it makes Nebula’s head smack painfully against her own, or the way Nebula’s hands—which had snapped up to peel Mantis’s hands off her shirt—were now curled painfully tight around her wrists.

Mantis pulls back when she realizes Nebula isn’t kissing her back and is instead frozen stiff herself this time.

“What? I kiss you back and you’re just going to stand there?” she demands, and she shakes Nebula, the fabric of her shirt still clenched in her fists. “Say something! Do something!”

That seems to do it. Nebula breaks out of her trance, still looking bewildered at how things had spiraled, but she pulls herself together enough to lean into Mantis and kiss her back. Her hands come up to Mantis’s face, organic hand cupping her jaw and angling her head to deepen the kiss and her mechanical hand moving to tangle in her hair. The light scrape of metal against the nape of Mantis’s neck as Nebula runs her fingers through her hair makes her shiver, and she knows Nebula felt it because of the way she starts to smile against Mantis’s mouth.

When they finally break apart, they’re both breathing hard and flushed with heat.

“You stretched out my shirt,” Nebula eventually mutters, still panting a little.

“You shouldn’t have tried to run away like a coward,” Mantis shoots back. She runs her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth all the misplaced, ruffled strands back into place.

“You didn’t exactly look thrilled from my end.”

“I was surprised, is all. You’re so repressed I never thought you would act on your feelings.”

Nebula glares, but after the frantic way they’d been kissing and grabbing each other, there really isn’t any bite to it at all, and her gaze drops soon enough. “You knew,” Nebula says, not quite looking at her. “How long have you known?”

Mantis takes a beat to reply. “A while,” she says eventually. “Since around when we celebrated Christmas on Knowhere.”

“So—so you knew—the other day, what I was trying—” Nebula splutters. “Why didn’t you say anything? If you knew how I felt and you felt the same way—”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to act on it! You’re not…you’re not exactly the most openly emotional or affectionate person around. Talking about feelings with you is impossible.” Mantis looks flustered, and a little frustrated too. This wasn’t really how she’d expected things to go—was she really that difficult? “And…the other day—I…I suspected, but I thought—you just seemed so mad about it, and the you did get mad—”

Nebula winces.

Mantis lets out a breath and bluntly says, “You’re very frustrating sometimes.”

Nebula’s face feels hot and she hunches her shoulders defensively, feeling as if Mantis is just picking at the wound now. “What about you?” she snaps. “Not everyone wants to talk feelings all the time, and sometimes it feels like that’s all you want to do.”

“Well, maybe if we had, we would have kissed sooner,” Mantis shoots back, and there's a rush of petty satisfaction at the way Nebula’s face twists into a grimace.

“Maybe,” she allows.

“Anyways, it seemed better to just leave you be. Just because someone has romantic”—Nebula winces again at that word—“feelings for someone, it doesn’t mean they’re going to do anything about it. After a certain point I didn’t think you ever would. And you weren’t exactly doing a good job explaining it.”

Nebula shifts awkwardly, still not managing to look at her directly, and her frown deepens. Mantis feels a surge of pity, and she adds, softly, “I’m sure it didn’t help that I laughed.”

Nebula shakes her head. “No, it’s my fault for getting so angry.” She looks so miserable that Mantis softens.

“It was nice,” Mantis offers. “The kiss, I mean.” Her heart isn’t racing anymore, but her stomach still feels fluttery. She wonders if Nebula’s does, too. Nebula swallows, mumbling a quiet agreement and looking more flustered than Mantis has ever seen her look before.

“I—” Nebula looks around as if she’s only just now remembering that they were still in the middle of the plaza, surrounded by people, and she starts to look like she’s dying a little. She clears her throat and says gruffly, “We should continue this conversation somewhere…quieter.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Mantis agrees. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes, we—” Nebula suddenly focuses on something beyond Mantis, her expression twisting. “Peter’s coming this way.” Her eyes squeeze shut in resignation.

“What?” Mantis turns, follows her gaze, and sure enough, there he is making a beeline for the pair of them.

“He must have seen everything,” Nebula groans.

Mantis touches her hand comfortingly, then takes it in her own and gently pulls Nebula’s along. Peter meets them halfway as they pick their way through the plaza. He’s smiling, but it’s a nervous, twitchy smile, and his eyes are flicking between the two of them and he looks worried.

“Heeeyyy…you two, uh, good? Not to be nosy but you guys looked like you were gonna start fighting again, but then you were also making out in between all of that, so…”

Nebula doesn’t know what to say, so she doesn’t say anything; just grimaces uncomfortably, her mouth set into a thin, tense line.

“We’re fine, Peter,” Mantis says. “Just…” She glances at Nebula. “We have some things to discuss.”

“That’s…fair,” he says slowly. “You two gonna be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Mantis assures, and Nebula mutters indistinctly in agreement.

“Why now?”

“What?”

They’re sitting on a walkway overlooking the city below, arms propped on the railing and legs hanging over the edge. Peter’s music is still playing over the speaker scattered across Knowhere, but it’s distant and tinny from where they’re sitting now.

“I mean,” Mantis says, “you’ve had these feelings for this long, but you only act on them now. So…why? Why now?”

Nebula’s brows hood low over her eyes as she considers. “I don’t know. I had hoped if I ignored how I felt long enough, it would just stop. But it didn’t. And I just got tired of ignoring it.”

Mantis nods and slowly leans forward to prop her chin on her arms. “You wanted it to go away.”

Nebula hesitates. “Yes.”

“I suppose I’m flattered your feelings for me were so stubborn,” Mantis says slowly, a bit of playful teasing creeping into her tone.

Nebula lets out a huff of laughter. “Well, you are always saying what a stubborn jerk I am,” and that makes Mantis laugh too.

“I’m surprised, truthfully. I didn’t think you liked me that much.” Nebula seems taken aback by this. “Just…we argue a lot. And you’re so mean sometimes.”

Nebula stares at her. “Seriously?”

“You’re always picking fights with me!” Mantis protests.

“You knew I had feelings for you!” Nebula exclaims. Mantis shrugs helplessly. Nebula buries her face in her hands. “I can’t believe you thought I didn’t like you even when you knew I had feelings for you.”

“Feelings are weird! Maybe you were always so grumpy because you hated having these feelings for me.”

“Is that why you didn’t take me seriously the first time?”

Mantis squirms uncomfortably. “A little bit, yes. I never thought you would act on it, and you seemed so angry, I thought—I don’t know, that you were going to yell at me for it.”

“I guess I did seem angry.” Nebula’s voice is muffled by her hands.

“You always seem kind of angry,” Mantis says.

Nebula groans again, and when she lifts her head again, her nose and brows are scrunching in a way that Mantis finds surprisingly endearing. “I wasn’t angry, just—” Nebula realizes that Mantis is smiling, and her scowl slowly becomes confused instead. “What?” she demands.

“Sorry. You looked…cute when you made that face.

Nebula cycles between surprise, confusion, annoyance, exasperation, and finally settles on embarrassment. “You think I’m cute?”

“Regrettably,” Mantis jokes, and thankfully that makes Nebula laugh, and then Mantis starts to giggle too, and before she can stop herself she’s leaning into Nebula and playfully shoving her shoulder with her own.

Eventually, when their laughter subsides, Nebula clears her throat and asks, tentative, “So…my feelings for you are—reciprocated?”

Mantis bumps her shoulder again. “Don’t sound so stiff. God knows why when you’re such a grouchy dickhead,” she teases, and then more seriously, “yes, obviously.”

The relief Nebula feels is so palpable that Mantis can feel it without even touching her skin directly, and that makes Mantis giggle again. “It’s very funny seeing you like this. You should drop the tough and scary act more often.”

Nebula side-eyes her. “Maybe. And only for you.”

Mantis laughs again and lays her head on Nebula’s shoulder. Nebula goes briefly stiff, then slowly relaxes into Mantis’s side. Mantis takes Nebula’s hand and pulls it into her lap, running her thumb over her knuckles, and she giggles at the intensity of panicked embarrassment that immediately floods into her from Nebula.

“It’s cute how flustered you get,” Mantis laughs. “All I did was hold your hand!”

“This is new for me, alright?” Nebula tries to growl, but it comes out pathetically strangled, and Mantis scoffs.

“This is too much but kissing me wasn’t?”

“That was a moment of insanity. And I panicked.”

Mantis hooks their arms together, still holding her hand in her lap, and snuggles into her side, still giggling. “We can get used to it together. This is new for me, too.”

Nebula nods mutely. Her brain feels like it’s overloading; she can barely focus on anything except for how close Mantis is and how nice her hand feels in Nebula’s. Her chest doesn’t feel constricted anymore. There’s a fluttery warmth blooming in her chest, and it’s all tentative joy and affection, and she knows Mantis can feel it, too.

Ending Notes:

N/A