Title: Under the Blacklight
Pairing: Peter x Caspian, implied Peter x Edmund
Rating: PG-13, I'd say.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the plot and sentence structure, etc.
Title belongs to Rilo Kiley. Movieverse, because otherwise they'd all be far, far too young. I'm not into pedophilia, sorry.
A/N: After a three-day run of shameless PWP for you guys, I'm back to my "native" style.
When you get sober/ Will you get kinder? 'Cos when you get uptight, it's such a drag…
Edmund can't remember the last time he saw Peter without a drink in his hand. Really. He still remembers, all too clearly, the night he came home to the flat they shared, only to find his beloved older brother passed out against the edge of the sofa, a bottle of Perla Vella (1) still in his hand, though the majority of it had since spilled onto the hardwood floors, filling the space with a strong scent of alcohol.
Edmund watches as Peter leaves early in the afternoon and doesn't return until late at night, smelling of smoke and booze and sweat, but never of women. Peter's never been that type; Edmund knows.
He remembers when they were children, how they used to chase each other around outside, shouting playfully, as Susan sat in the shade of a large elm and read one of her books. She always was a serious child…perhaps that's why he's noticed the change in Peter so much. He remembers the night when Peter was a tender, gossamer sixteen, how they'd gone on a walk because neither of them could sleep. He remembers the scent of the field, the way the starless sky looked…the way soft lips pressed against his; Edmund's first kiss, at the age of thirteen, was with another boy—his brother.
Then they were all drawn back into Narnia once more, via the call of a rash, dark haired boy who captured his brother, his Peter, and stole him away with one long, smoldering glance.
He could still picture how he'd walked in on them that night before the final battle; as much as he wanted to convince himself that it was Caspian who had taken advantage of his brother, his memory refused to deny that it was the other way around. Funny…he never imagined that the proud, almost haughty Telmarine prince would be a bottom.
He left quickly, before they noticed he was even there; to this day, Edmund thinks bitterly, Peter still thinks I don't know. He thinks I don't understand the reason he hasn't quite been the same since we got back; he thinks that I didn't notice the way their eyes locked before Peter stepped back through.
And then, Edmund thinks that maybe he doesn't want to remember, doesn't like to think of the hurt look on his face during the entire train ride. Maybe Edmund's the real reason Peter is drinking himself to death.
He's watching his brother drown himself, kill himself a little bit more day by day, but somehow Edmund knows that even that will not be enough for him in the end. It can't bring Caspian to him, and it won't let him truly go back, except in his desperate, dehydrated fantasies. And not for the first time, Edmund thinks, I'm older, and I still don't understand.
When I get older/ I won't remember/ Until that day comes, I've got something on you.
1 Perla Vella is a type of Spanish (vintage) absinthe that is 69 alcohol…yeah, my mother drank heavily, and I've got a few friends who've ridden the Green Fairy, although I myself have not, so…I know my shit. Google "absinthe." It's a good time, I assure you.