Prenote- Even though it's pretty obvious, I don't own Narnia, or the characters, just this strange 'behind the scenes' take on Caspian and Peter's relationship. contains boy on boy stuff, though nothing Mature.
Ahh, ever since I re-watched the movie for Narnia Prince Caspian, I kept noticing how perfect the Two unbelievably cute boys would be for a love hate relationship. Hello, rivalry, lots of sword play, tragic moments and lingering gazes. All you really needed was the kiss and you have a classic example. So for my amusement, I've added one in ;D but thats for later, so please, R+R, and read on :]
Peter swallowed back the predatorial growl in his throat, skewering the Dark haired boy with his eyes. His chest was heaving from their breath battle, his wrist aching from the missed hit.
Lucy's cry had saved him. He looked briefly away from the Male poising a sword at his throat to acknowledge the presence of his siblings, before returning to observing the Male. A similar age, Peter tried not to feel envy as he noticed his strong muscles, the slim, strong hands which were grasping his sword. Peter had lived a troubled, but less physically demanding life than the Narnian Prince posed before him. He just hoped he could out match him in wit. Caspian seemed to register just who he was, that's right princey boy, I'm a high King. check that out.
Caspian felt irritation flare up as he watched a small smirk spread across the blonde boy's face. Who was he to smirk, just because he was some fancy high King? Caspian checked out his legs and slender arms. Sure he might be a pretty boy, but Caspian reckoned that with those muscles he could take out the 'High King' any day. He lowered the sword all the same, the Narnians were instantly spurred into gossip, but Caspian held pretty boy's gaze, his heart racing, from the fight and the intensity of the gaze he was receiving back. He stood up tall, taking the posture that a prince should. High King Peter mimicked his straightening, showing off his lithe frame, backing his blonde hair bounce around his bright blue eyes. Sure, you might be pretty, but can you think? Caspian raised an eyebrow, challenging Peter in the relationship of being his rival. With a slight raise of the right corner of his full lips, the High King gladly accepted.
He knew the attack on the Castle had been a bad Idea, he just knew. Caspian rode next to Peter as they withdrew in an unimpressive rush, Caspian could already tell soilders were going to get left behind. He Galloped confidently across the slowly closing bridge, enjoying the feeling of the wind musing his hair. He looked back across, to see Peter froze, staring at the trapped warriors. He turned to look at Caspian, and for a moment, Caspian dropped all feelings of Rivalry, and felt nothing but a need to comfort the Scared looking Male posed a few meters away from him. The look of unsolvable conflict raged behind Peter's eyes, and Caspian tried his best to give him strength with hi eyes. Peter looked back and forth once more, his eyes now wet, before making the narrow jump across the bridge. Caspian sighed in relief, brushing Peter's hand gently to try and make him feel better. Somehow though, he knew he'd be blamed for this.
Peter needed to cry, he didn't think he had any other option, but infront of all this Narnians? He sucked in breath, he'd hold on a little longer, he was confident he could manage it. Some asked what had happened. That just triggered the memories, the memory of watching his men be killed slowly one by one as he abandoned them in a hopeless situation. The tears reformed, hazing his vision. All he could see was Caspian. In a blind fury he threw accusation after accusation at he rival, forcing his voice to stay strong, though he felt himself tremble. Caspian's gorgeous face turned sour as he threw a low blow at him, but Peter didn't know what else to do, he couldn't cry here, it wasn't something a High King would do. He laughed at himself bitterly, he was letting pride get the better of him again. Lucy interrupted their argueing, as an injured dwarf dubbed DLF (dear Little Friend) was laid on the ground. Peter couldn't take the atmosphere of disapointment and death anymore. Caspian's accusations were getting to him a lot more than they should. He stormed away from the scene, feeling the tears overflow down his cheeks, cruel and to real reminders of the deaths he had allowed to happen.
Caspian watched bitterly as Peter ran away from the situation, oh no way was he letting pretty boy get away with those kind of insults with no decent punishment. He smiled darkly at the thought of himself causing pretty boy to suffer, he relished in the image of him begging at his knees. Then other desirable images came to Caspian's mind, ones which weren't appropriate for Males such as himself. But he was a prince, raised in an enviroment where he was allowed to be indulged. So naturally, he gorged himself in his imaginary fantasies, it almost felt real as he pressed himself against the hot, wet lips of a crying High King Peter. He twisted his hands up in the Blonde hair he found so captivating, watching in the torchlight as it shone in the browner roots.
"Wh-what." Moaned a confused High King from beneath Caspian's hands. At that point Caspian realised he wasn't dreaming. And with all the attitude and stubborness of a true king, he decided he didn't care.
Confused, Peter blinked up to the gorgeous brown eyes of Caspian, relishing at the wet damp that had been wiped across his lips. The Prince's hands were so much stronger than Peter had imagined, despite the fact that he'd predicted Caspian to have strength it seemed he'd underestimated as he felt strong, dominated fingers curl into his hair. The natural spark of rivalry resonated with in him, no way was he going to let Caspian out play him on a battlefield he'd felt was unknown. Sure he'd kissed a few girls before, held their hands, but that was nothing compared to the wild confusion he'd felt as Caspian had joined their lips. The need to fight back had never been this aggressive either. Locking his slender fingers into Caspian's dark curls, he felt a wild, animal smile spread across his lips as he joined the hunt they both were competing in, the duel to make the other one crack. To what extent he was willing to go to Peter was unsure, all he knew was that now, he, the High King of Narnia, was going to win.
Caspian had never felt so turned on as he watched a sexy, alluring smile spread across pretty boy's face, practically egging him on. Then the Blonde's mouth was raggedly tugging on his lower lip, his sharp teeth playing gently with the flesh. Oh, so the High King was challenging him to a duel on such a dangerous battlefield? Caspian felt a low growl form in his throat as he readily accepted, ducking his head and burning bottom lip out of Peter's aim, placing his lips instead on the base of the High King's pale neck. At first he lay only gentle kisses as he worked his way up Peter's neck, but as the groaning from Peter grew louder, he started to ravenge the soft pale flesh with more vigor, leaving small pink marks where his lips had been. Caspian smirked at each one, he'd been the first one to lay marks. It was a look of victory that shone in his eyes as he came up to greet Peter's, a triumphant smirk spread happily across his face.
Peter felt a rush of heat going to his neck, small pricks of pain burned from where Caspian nipped his skin, and with each one Peter felt himself coming onto Caspian harder. Caspian's look of satisfaction drove him to go further, but he remembered the crowds who would be outside, he remembered his place, High King Peter, and knew that now, in a time of grieving, was the worst time to be playing around with the gorgeous, smiling boy who had just set his skin on fire. He might of lost in the furious kissing battle but he was going to win at maturity. He pulled himself off of Caspian (suddenly realising he'd collapsed like a petty maiden in the strong Male's arms) and cleared his throat, hoping the furious heat in his cheeks would subside. He started to walk off to the battle room, but turned round to lay one more meaningful kiss on Caspian, just so he knew that he was showing him up with his maturity. He flashed a smirk at the taller boy, then walked off to go an get some air in a side chamber, rubbing at his devoured skin. Another time Caspian, and he was definetly going to win.