This chapter was inspired by the Guardians of the Galaxy interview when Chris stated that he sent a 'drunk' text to Dave, calling him out to a wrestling match. . . . Already, you should know what's going to happen; but I hope that you will read the story anyway. Enjoy!

Grapple-Lord

The Guardians of the Galaxy were on Knowhere, yet again, getting cratered at the bar nearest to their docked ship. Well, Peter and Drax were getting cratered. Rocket, Groot, and Gamora were gathering materials to repair the Milano from the damage caused by their latest adventure. The ship had been wrecked on their bounty, and Peter felt horrible over what could have happened to his team.

So here he was, with his muscle-builder friend by his side, drowning his emotions away with weird orange alcohol. Quill didn't know what kind of drink it was; only that it made the bad feelings go away and gave him a buzz. He was on his sixth round when looked over at Drax and gave the tattooed man the most sincere smile that only a drunk person could form.

"Draz," Peter slurred. "Draz, ya gotta try 'is stuff! It tas' so goo'!"

"No," Drax replied firmly.

"Bu' why not?" the half-Terran whined. "I'sh really goo'."

Drax sighed and pat his leader on the back, saying, "I have decided that I will not drink more than three servings of these liquids. The last time I was intoxicated did not end well for anyone."

Star-Lord drained his glass before leaning into Drax and mumbling, "Yur a freakin' goo' frien', ya know tha'? Yur alwaysh lookin' out for ush, 'cept for tha' one time when ya called Ronan ta try 'n' kill 'im bu' got me and Morry caugh' by Ravagers instead; bu' I forgived ya for tha' already. I'm sho proud 'f ya fer tryin' ta s've ush 'n' def'den the galaxy." The last word was punctuated with hiccup.

"I believe these ramblings mean that you have had enough to drink for one evening," the tattooed man stated as he maneuvered himself and his thoroughly drunken friend away from the counter. "It is time to return to the Milano."

Peter, who had been giggling and smiling at a couple of pink women at the other side of the bar, gave Drax a petulant frown. He didn't want to leave yet. He didn't want to be reminded of what almost happened to Gamora, Rocket, Groot, Drax, and himself. He wanted to forget how he almost broke his promise to Dey, how he kept failing his family!

"I don' wanna go," Peter mumbled, leaning most, if not all, of his weight on the muscular man dragging him away from the alcohol that made him feel numb in both body and mind.

"We need to get back to the ship, Quill," Drax grunted.

"I don' wanna go," Star-Lord reiterated grumpily as the pink women started to walk off with two random guys. "There're girls I nee' ta meet."

"It needs to be done," the Destroyer returned while hefting his captain over his shoulder like he was a ragdoll, carrying him out of the bar and into the muggy atmosphere of Knowhere's streets. "You need to sleep your inebriation away and deal with your hangover accordingly; I do not believe that lying with strange women will be beneficial to you at the moment."

"I nee' ta do somethin'," Peter complained from over Drax's shoulder. "I don' wanna go back yet."

Drax understood Star-Lord's reluctance to return to his beaten up ship; their latest bounty had taken a toll on all of them. He stopped by a wall long enough to prop his load against it and asked, "Then what would you like to do that does not involve drinking more alcohol or lying with strange women?"

Peter's head lulled from side to side as the man's inebriated mind tried to come up with an activity he and Drax could do together. Drax said no more booze and no 'lying with strange women,' whatever that meant. What did that leave him with? Drax was big and muscle-y. What could he do with a big muscle-y person? Um . . .

"Wanna wrestle?" Star-Lord suggested drunkenly.

Drax stared at the half-Terran blankly before asking, "You wish to wrestle with me while you're intoxicated?"

"No 'ne hash t' know," Quill shrugged listlessly, nearly tumbling to the ground with his movement. What was in that orange drink?

The tattooed man sighed before leading his captain off to an alleyway not too far from the Milano. There was no reason to tire out Star-Lord where everyone could see. After casting a cursory glance around to make sure the alley didn't have any garbage that would potentially cause infection would it to cut into their skin, Drax faced Peter and took up a fighting stance.

"Are you prepared, Quill?" Drax asked his tipsy commander.

"C'me a' meh, bro," Peter goaded before opting to rush the Destroyer anyway.

The half-Terran wrapped both of his arms around Drax's middle and pushed with all of his might. Quill grunted and yanked his body side to side, trying to overthrow the Destroyer's balanced stance; but the tattooed man didn't budge an inch or even act like his drunken opponent was even there. Instead, Drax grabbed the back of Star-Lord's coat and flung him over his bare shoulder to the open space behind him.

The half-Terran lay on his back with a dazed expression on his face. He roughly shook his heavy-feeling head before jumping to his feet, once again charging with an uncoordinated gait straight at Drax. Peter repeated his efforts to push the Destroyer over. The muscular tattooed man sighed at Peter's efforts to knock him down. The things Drax did for his friends.

When it appeared that Quill was winding down on his assault, Drax simply pushed the man back and waited for him to charge again. Peter ran up to the tattooed man for the third time only to wrap both of his hands around a gray wrist, yanking the arm it was connected to over his shoulder. Star-Lord was trying to throw Drax over his back. Isn't that cute?

Drax chuckled as he dropped to one leg and wrapped his captured arm around Peter's waist. He swiftly hefted Star-Lord off the ground, his head dangling beside the ever-present daggers on Drax's waist. The tattooed man was careful not to hurt his friend and merely subdue him. He wanted to get them both home in one piece and not face Gamora's wrath over a battered half-Terran. With that in mind, he needed to end this 'match' sooner rather than later.

"Do you concede?" the tattooed man inquired.

"Never!" Peter crowed, pushing up on Drax's arm and flailing his legs to slip out of the Destroyer's grip.

His friend's struggling forced Drax to brace the half-Terran with his other hand. Unfortunately for Quill, Drax was drunk as well even though he had drunk less than his captive did. While the gray man had tried to keep Peter from falling, he was just tipsy enough to lose his grip and drop the half-Terran right on his head.

*break*

It was official. A person could have a headache on top of a headache. How was this fact proven, you ask? Star-Lord lay on his bunk in the Milano, hands cupped over his face and mouth drawn back in a grimace. Not only did his brain hurt from his hangover, but the top his head was also too pained to put on his pillow.

"What happened last night?" Peter whispered softly. He groaned when even his barely audible question hurt his ears.

"You were inebriated to the point of rambling, so I brought you home," Drax responded from the bunk on the other side of the room.

"Why'd you hit me on the head?" Peter whined.

"I did not hit you," Drax denied. "I dropped you on your head."

"Why?" Quill emphasized.

Drax got off of his bunk and made his way over to the suffering half-Terran. Even though he couldn't see the other's face, Peter had the distinct impression that the tattoo-riddled man was smirking at him.

"It would be wise for you to remember to not wrestle with me, Grapple-Lord," the Destroyer replied, patting his leader on the arm. "I am stronger than you can handle, drunk or sober."

As Drax left the room, Peter's eyes widened with shock. The surprise didn't come from him trying to wrestle the man while they were drunk or from the fact that he was dropped on his head. He was stunned that Drax the Destroyer, the most literal man in the galaxy, had given him a metaphor-like nickname.

'Grapple-Lord' lay on his bunk, slowly getting over his hangover and pondering what other nicknames Drax could think of that the half-Terran could add to his list.

Tell me what you think and how I can improve, and drop in suggestions on what you would like to be Star-Lord's newest nickname. All suggestions must be based on interviews or films Chris Pratt has taken part in. Thank you for your time and opinions (whether or not you post them or if I like them).