Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia or any of the characters. That's why I wrote this story…
Peter had gotten used to this now, sleeping on the ground. But that didn't mean he wouldn't be thankful to be sleeping in a normal bed, when they finally got back to boarding school. Although, to be honest, he couldn't really imagine going back.
It's all so crazy, isn't it? I'm in a strange fairytale world and I'm in love with a handsome prince. Peter's chest momentarily tightened as he thought about Caspian. Everything about the young prince drew Peter Pevensie to him – the way he acted, the way he looked at Peter that made the boy hope against his better reasoning, and the way he was trying so hard for his kingdom. None of his siblings knew about the way he felt about Caspian. At first he hadn't trusted him, and there had been tension, but he got to him more and more, and now wanted to distance himself from him again. I'll be going home soon, and the sooner I can forget about him, the better.
But even as Peter thought that, he smiled at the ridiculous idea of trying to forget Caspian.
A sudden rustling near where he slept made him sit up abruptly – An enemy?
But it was Caspian. Peter's face contorted with pleasure and embarrassment at seeing the boy he loved and also confusion and bemusement at what Caspian was doing – he had a sheepish, albeit gorgeous smile on his face, and he was brushing leaves off his trousers.
"Caspian?" Peter winced inwardly at the Englishness in his accent but continued. "What are you doing?"
"Peter," Caspian exhaled, speaking Peter's name even quicker than usual in his Spanish sounding accent because he was out of breath. He walked over and sat down next to Peter.
Peter blinked at the unusual intimacy of the situation but Caspian, oblivious, began to talk in his hurried way, running his words together sexily. "I was trying to climb that tree," he said, gesturing vaguely over to the area behind them, his black hair a little dishevelled. It looked really hot, Peter thought, feeling a little ashamed that he was thinking that.
"I wanted to see if I could get a good lookout," Caspian explained. "But I am glad I found you Peter," he continued, his intonation meaning that he unintentionally caressed Peter's name with his voice. "I wanted to speak to you."
"Has our battle plan changed?"
"Not about that," Caspian was speaking with a sudden urgency and Peter wanted to ask him if he had seen an enemy in the area, but didn't have the chance.
"Peter…" He smiled awkwardly. "Ah…" He laughed a little, embarrassed. "I am not very good at saying this," his exotic lilt rang out into the air, and Peter shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what Caspian was trying to say.
"What is it?" He tried for a smile, but it didn't quite work.
"Peter," Caspian began and the caress in his accent on Peter's name made the boy weak. "What I am trying to say, is that I…"
Peter leaned closer, initially an instinctive move – to hear Caspian's words more clearly. But then he flinched a little, realising how close their faces were. A small smile twitched the corner of Caspian's mouth as he became aware of what Peter was thinking.
Awkwardly they leaned in, clumsily twisting their heads, until their lips had met. Caspian tensed a little as their lips touched, but Peter opened his mouth a little and they began to try and explore each other, adjusting to a natural rhythm.