[ There is a handful of seconds where Peter's brain completely and utterly shorts out, and he freezes when her lips meet his. He's wanted to kiss her for so damn long – probably since the moment he first laid eyes on her, but he fully admits that that was purely physical. That, and the balcony on Knowhere, was "oh hell, she's hot," and nothing more.
He's wanted Gamora for— hell, ages now. Almost a year, really. Ever since they stood with the others in the wreckage of the Dark Aster. Ever since they were reacquainting themselves with the newly repaired Milano, and she had smiled at him in a way that made his heart skip a beat.
Much like it does now. It skips a couple beats, in fact, before it gets back on task. The kiss is gentle, tentative, and admittedly, Peter's nose is practically an ice cube, thanks to the weather. It's completely different from the way Peter usually kissed – when making out with some dude or lady or whatever in a dingy bar would lead to stumbling through streets, would lead to tumbling into a bed, would lead to walks of shame the next morning – but, god, this is so much better. And he wants to do this again, and again, and again, but—
He reluctantly pulls back, searching her face, and his eyes practically sparkle with a frankly uncool surge of giddiness. But he reins it in enough to ask, ]
Is... this okay?
[ The fact that he kissed her. The fact that they haven't really talked about what the hell is going on with them, but that this particular step makes them a Them. A couple. And maybe that's not what Gamora really wanted? Maybe she just got caught up in the moment, so— ]
Are you sure about this?
[ He wants to be certain. He wants her to be certain.
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He's wanted Gamora for— hell, ages now. Almost a year, really. Ever since they stood with the others in the wreckage of the Dark Aster. Ever since they were reacquainting themselves with the newly repaired Milano, and she had smiled at him in a way that made his heart skip a beat.
Much like it does now. It skips a couple beats, in fact, before it gets back on task. The kiss is gentle, tentative, and admittedly, Peter's nose is practically an ice cube, thanks to the weather. It's completely different from the way Peter usually kissed – when making out with some dude or lady or whatever in a dingy bar would lead to stumbling through streets, would lead to tumbling into a bed, would lead to walks of shame the next morning – but, god, this is so much better. And he wants to do this again, and again, and again, but—
He reluctantly pulls back, searching her face, and his eyes practically sparkle with a frankly uncool surge of giddiness. But he reins it in enough to ask, ]
Is... this okay?
[ The fact that he kissed her. The fact that they haven't really talked about what the hell is going on with them, but that this particular step makes them a Them. A couple. And maybe that's not what Gamora really wanted? Maybe she just got caught up in the moment, so— ]
Are you sure about this?
[ He wants to be certain. He wants her to be certain.
And he's offering her one last out. ]