A/N There is romance between two men in this story, so if you're not into that sort of thing, please don't read or flame me about it. For everyone else, I hope you enjoy! If you have an idea about another story dealing with these two but don't feel like writing it yourself, I'd be happy to hear it!
Set shortly after the first battle at the Telmarine castle. Peter dreams about Caspian. The prince falls ill, and Peter can no longer contain his feelings.
A Moment in Time
Something catches Peter's attention. There is a body, facing the calm expanse of the sea, silhouetted by the soft moonlight. A soft, silk shirt slips off flawless shoulders and soundlessly hits the ground. The back side of a perfectly sculpted human being is almost revealed as more clothes melt away, the naked body now only just hidden by the darkness in the air. Long, thick hair moves slightly with the breeze, caressing a neck that Peter aches to touch with his fingertips. Just as the figure is about to take its first step into the water, the face turns, and Peter's heart catches in his throat as he recognizes the outline of chiseled features, of sparkling dark eyes...
It is Caspian.
"Oh god," Peter gasped as he jerked up in bed, his face damp with sweat. There was an angry murmur at his side while he focused on taking his first deep breath.
"Honestly, Peter, do you never shut up!" Edmund exclaimed. "Go to sleep before I am reduced to doing something I will not be held responsible for."
Just this once Peter ignored his younger brother's threats. As the room became quiet once more, he squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples with his fingers. It was only a dream, he told himself. Still, the lust he had felt for Caspian, of all people, was embarrassingly fresh in his mind. He shook his whole body in an attempt to rid himself of the feeling. He glanced across the room at a sleeping mass he knew to be the prince. Peter breathed a slow sigh of relief as reality finally sunk back in around him, and he fell asleep again as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The next morning everything was perfectly fine, save for one small close call during breakfast. There was not much conversation as everyone sat around the table, happily devouring one of the few hearty meals they had had in a while. Peter sat across from Caspian and couldn't help glancing at the prince every now and then. At one point he downright began to stare at his mouth as the unsuspecting man chewed his food. Unbeknown to Peter, Caspian had noticed this and had been frowning at him for some time before Peter took any note.
"Peter," ventured Caspian. "You, er, want some?" He indicated his food with his fork, guessing that that was what the eldest Pevensie was after.
"What??" Peter exclaimed, rather startled from his trance. "No, erm, thanks. I uhh…" And with that Peter began to concentrate very fiercely on his food. His siblings gave him a few curious sideways glances, but soon everyone had forgotten all about the strange moment.
Apart from that, everything was fine.
That afternoon Edmund, Lucy, and Susan were gone, probably on some errands with the Narnians. Peter was glad for the chance to be left alone. He needed this time to think, to plan some way to defeat the Telmarine King. He sat alone in his room, his head down, silently brooding over the past events and his own strange incompetence as leader.
He was distracted by the sound of the bedroom door opening and looked up to see Caspian walk in.
"Oh, hey," he mumbled, taking little notice of the prince and returning to his thoughts.
Caspian made no reply as he went straight to his bed and lay down. Peter looked up again. It was uncharacteristic of the prince to give no reply like that, and he assumed the man was still angry from the preceding battle at the Telmarine castle. Peter reluctantly got up and went over to the man's bed, ready to talk things through and put their issues behind them.
"Caspian, look," he began, sitting himself on the edge of the bed. "Whatever was said—… Hey, Caspian. Are you listening to me?"
The prince was lying on his back, his eyes shut, his brow slightly furrowed. A bead of sweat rolled off his forehead. He gave a slight moan in reply.
"Caspian, you're ill!" Peter exclaimed, but gently. He touched his palm to the man's forehead. "Why didn't you say something earlier?" The other man was burning up.
"I am fine," Caspian murmured, just as a shudder passed through his entire body.
"I can see that. How long have you been feeling like this?" Peter questioned as he prodded the prince, looking at his pupils, checking his pulse, and trying to see into the back of his throat.
"I—stop that," Caspian swatted his hands away. "You are getting carried away. Look." He lifted his shirt to reveal a badly healed wound on his abdomen. "From the battle. I was careless."
Peter didn't like the looks of the wound at all. It was obviously infected, and the prince could now be in danger.
"We need to do something about this," he said, trying to remember which plant it was that could be used as an antibiotic.
"Peter," came suddenly the weary voice from the bed. "I am sorry."
Peter was touched by the man's apology. "Look, we were both at fault during that battle, in fact—" But he cut his words short as he heard Caspian repeat himself.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Peter, I'm…" Caspian's eyes were now shut and he was sweating profusely. The fever had suddenly taken over his body and mind. His condition had rapidly become critical. The prince was fading, and Peter began to be afraid.
Peter jumped off the bed and began to pace the room, trying to think of what to do. Caspian moaned on the bed. Peter stopped to look at the defenseless body, the opened cotton shirt, the parted lips glossed with sweat… Despite the urgency of the situation, or maybe because of it, the young man began to feel a physical response to the site of that perfectly tanned body…
"Bloody hell!!" he exclaimed, pacing around the room even faster than before. Think, think, control yourself, for God's sake, he thought.
But there was no more time to lose. Caspian was in clear delirium now and was deteriorating by the second. Water. We need cold water, Peter thought. Out of other options, he walked over and picked up the near limp form of the prince. Caspian was powerless to protest and hung almost lifeless in his arms. Peter moved as fast as he could out of the room, through the halls, and to the outside.
Peter looked around. He knew there was a spring nearby. The weather had been chilly for quite a few days, so the water was sure to be cold enough for them to at least have a chance to break Caspian's fever. He made an educated guess as to its location and rushed in that direction as quickly as he could. Sure enough, he soon came upon a very clear spring. He might have even noticed how beautiful it was if it weren't for the helpless Telmarine in his arms.
Caspian had gotten completely silent by now. Not even a moan escaped his still lips.
"Caspian, Caspian," Peter struggled to keep his voice steady. "Wake up." He wasted no time and gingerly placed the prince into the water. Immediately Caspian came to, and as if waking from a nightmare only to find himself in another one, he began to thrash around with every last ounce of strength in his body, desperately fighting the coldness that was invading his hot flesh. Peter wrestled him and kept him submerged to the best of his abilities, even when Caspian let out a heart wrenching scream. The scene looked as if one man was deliberately drowning the other, but Peter knew that this was the prince's only chance of beating the fever.
After what must have seemed like a lifetime, the thrashing, the screams, the protests subsided. Caspian began to calm down, whether because the treatment was working or from sheer depletion of energy, Peter did not know. The Pevensie youth was badly shaken by the ordeal and let out a shaky sob of exhaustion as the last of his defenses evaporated. He sat down in the water and propped the prince's upper half against his chest. He held him like that, his arms wrapped tightly around Caspian, both men still fully clothed and soaking wet.
"Caspian," Peter ventured, in barely more than a whisper, still holding on tight. "You still with me?"
"Yeah," came the hoarse reply.
Peter buried his face in the other man's hair and sobbed. Caspian reached out a nearly frozen hand and squeezed one of Peter's arms in reassurance, but the sobs continued. Peter silently shook from their force. The coldness of the water was soon threatening to do serious damage to their bodies if they remained in it much longer. Caspian was recovered enough to make the first move.
"Peter. Come on," he encouraged, slowly attempting to move.
The process was slow and exhausting, given that both men had long since used up all their physical and emotional energy. Yet eventually they managed to move themselves out of the water and collapse onto a small sunny clearing. They lay on their backs, hungrily soaking up the warm rays of the sun.
Perhaps out of momentary foolishness, Peter suddenly curled his fingers around the other man's hand. He heard a loud gulp as Caspian became rigid. Now feeling a bit awkward, Peter began to hastily withdraw his hand but was almost shocked into unconsciousness as he was assaulted by a pair of lips on his own. His eyes rolled back into his head as he surrendered himself to the onslaught of passion that surged through his entire body. He swore he could see explosions behind his closed lids, and he reached out blindly to hungrily tangle his fingers in that long, luscious, dark Telmarine hair.
The two men's legs intertwined, drawing themselves as close to each other as possible, pressing against the burning desire in one another's groins. The two mouths pulled apart, blue eyes stared into the deepest brown, and they kissed one another again but more gently, more sensually. Each man tenderly explored the other with his fingers, heady with new sensations.
"Caspian," Peter breathed, in danger of exploding. "Caspian."
The other man moaned at the sound of his name coming from Peter's lips. Caspian stopped kissing him and just held him tightly, allowing the blond head to bury in his neck. For the first time since returning to Narnia, Peter felt safe… safe in the Telmarine's arms.
Almost as quickly as the spell had begun, it was broken by the sound of approaching voices. The men looked up and saw company approaching from the distance. The other Pevensies and the Narnians were returning.
Their moment was over.
Peter and Caspian hastily stood up and shook pieces of grass and leaves from their clothing and hair. Peter stared longingly at that handsome face, those mysterious dark eyes, that teasingly open cotton shirt. But Caspian seemed intent on leaving the scene and did not return the young man's looks. Peter's heart sank as the prince took off toward home at a brisk pace, not looking back once.
Nothing happened between the two men the rest of the day, and by night time Peter began to accept the possibility that he had simply been used. Caspian really was no better than the other Telmarines. Peter went to bed without a word to anyone. The others assumed he was simply tired and did not question him. He fell asleep longing for something he was certain would never be his again.
Little did he know that in the middle of the night, when everyone else was fast asleep, Prince Caspian kissed his sleeping lips with the tenderness known only to the truest of lovers.
Oh how wrong the young Peter was.