Author's Note: I wrote this in the car to my family holiday. Because I need practice and because writing PWP in a moving vehicle with your ultra-conservative parents in the front seat is a very good decision. (Though I think that's part of the reason this isn't as graphic as it could be.)
I wasn't going to upload it, but since this was made for practice, I figured somebody might have some pointers for how to improve. Practice makes for improvements right?
Top!Felix, AU Storybrooke setting because of reasons.
Happy New Year's everybody!
For a man of over five-hundred, Peter Pan certainly could whine like a child. This was nothing new to Felix, of course; he knew how the slimmer boy could be. Impulsive. Greedy. Thoughtless from time to time. It was all routine, Felix knew this, but he'd never tell Pan that. Even the stupidest of the gods could figure out how that would go.
But still. His complaining was growing more and more passe by the second.
"This is why Neverland was tropical," Pan stuttered,ripping off his scarf and coat with unneeded vehemence. "I hate this weather."
Felix merely chortled half-heartedly.
"What?" Pan demanded
"It's just…" Felix paused, assessing the blue-mouthed boy in the breezeway. "The things you let get the best of you are...amusing."
Pan darted his brow upwards, sensing a dare. "I don't let anything get the best of me."
Felix grinned, pulling out of his black coat, but refused to elaborate.
Pan frowned, breathing onto his chapped hands before heading into the kitchen, hoping to find the drinks they had stolen from Granny's earlier in the week.
"I'm kind of surprised," Pan mused, pouring a cup of what might have been straight rum if not for the tablespoon or so of eggnog with it. "Of the sheer stupidity of this holiday."
Felix bid he continue, leaning on the counter beside him.
"They claim it's about family and love, and yet all I've seen is pretty lights and getting gifts and parties in which Rumplestiltskin demonstrates how he can fit the whole of Storybrooke into his house."
"Did you want to go?" Felix asked, sliding along the counter to grab a glass and make a similar, if not slightly less alcoholic, drink. He always had a premonition that Pan's feelings towards his son weren't ask icy as he led on.
"Gods no." Pan shuddered to the thought. "Why would I want to see him happy? He's done nothing but ruin my life."
"At least the alcohol is good."
He smiled, offering to clink glasses with his companion. Shortly after he took another long gulp, Pan sighed. "Does it really have to be this cold inside? What did you set the thermostat to anyway?"
If for no reason other than to shut him up, Felix seized Pan's chin and dragged him in.
His lips were cold, Felix bit down softly, almost tentatively, allowing a moan to escape Pan's throat before breaking off.
Pan crinkled his nose, returning to his drink. "It's too cold for that."
Felix glared at the snub, sifting a hand under Pan's waistband, thumb and forefinger caressing his hip bones. "Is that right?"
"Yeah." Pan darted his brows up dangerously, curling his free hand around the back of Felix's neck, contradicting his words. "I'm afraid it won't work."
In one swift motion, Felix grabbed Pan's shoulders, causing the eggnog to slosh onto the floor, so that the shorter one was pressed against the side of the counter, a smirk definite on his features.
"Turning up the heat, are we?" Pan's eyes gleamed, "Now that might work."
He rose on his toes to reciprocate the kiss, feeling Felix's arms tighten on his hips. Pan grabbed his shoulders tighter - oh, no. He wouldn't be outdone - and burrowed his nails in the skin.
Felix wasn't in the mood to mince words. Not like he ever was. But he wasted no time breaking Peter free of his shirt, buttons popping off from the force, eliciting a laugh and a smirk.
"I thought this was supposed to make me warmer?" Pan teased.
Felix's eyes darkened. He grunted in a low voice, running his thumb over Peter's fly, feeling the budding hard-on.
"Well you're trying." Pan laughed. "Try harder."
Felix pressed their lips together with more fervor, more heat, his tongue darted between each set of lips, hitting the rigid wall of Peter's teeth.
"I'm freezing to death and that's all you do to help me?" Pan said with transparently veiled hurt, growing harder by the word.
"You can help yourself too," Felix replied curtly between strategically placed kisses, tugging on a little on the hair that fringed Pan's neck.
Laughing into Felix's mouth, Pan immediately pulled on Felix's shirt, parting only to remove the horrid thing from the taller boy's body. "And here I thought this was my Christmas present."
Felix's eyes narrowed. "That'll come later, if we can get your blood warm enough."
"I think it already is," Pan cooed, tilting his pelvis upwards, drawing all attention to him.
Felix chuckled slightly, wasting no time in undoing the buttons and zipper that seemed so offensive at the time, sliding his hand beneath the material.
The shorter boy hissed at the touch, as though he put his hand in open flame. He surreptitiously removed one hand from Felix, beginning to undo his belt, whilst groaning into the other boy's mouth. Breaking free from the confines of the counter, Pan jumped forward, sending Felix to his back onto the tile of the kitchen floor.
Holding Felix by the wrists, Pan straddled his stomach, leaning forward to place a series of kisses that bit like embers on his lips and jaw.
"This your idea of making me warm?" Pan shifted, digging his erection into Felix's muscles. "I'll have you know I'm not any warmer."
"Then what do you want?" Felix asked through gritted teeth, struggling under the nails digging into his wrist.
Pan cocked a brow. "Isn't it obvious?"
Felix glared at the boy above him, recognizing the game. And he'd be damned if Pan thought he'd let him have him on the cold kitchen floor.
"Very well then," Pan laughed at Felix's forehead, kissing his hairline.
"I want to hold you against the wall," He descended to Felix's brow. "And hear you groan and whine."
Felix found the contrast of the heat in his chest and the cold marble of the floor assaulting. He was petrified but struck with an insatiable desire to wrench and twist into the boy on his stomach.
Pan was at his cheekbones, tongue outlining the scar under his eye. "I want to take you, to see you recoil and pulse when I go in."
He moved to Felix's lips, kissing each one, jolting his hips into Felix's hips, growling into his mouth, "I want you to know just how far in I can go."
Felix's voice raised a whole octave as he whimpered.
Pan smirked and continued his trek to Felix's chin. "I want you to taste me, to lick and suck and I want to fuck your throat."
Pan's lips danced on the side of Felix's mouth. He bit harshly, whispering, "My cum dripping out right here."
"Peter-" Up went the octave again as his blood rushed and heart pounded so fast it became one never ending best.
Felix jolted, feeling fire spread all through his body. The mental image and strain of desire blurring any coherent thought that might have dared to lurk in the back of his brain.
Never one to grant respite, Pan dragged his tongue to Felix's chest, sucking and biting as per the usual order.
"I want to tie you down and take complete control. I want to sit on your cock and watch your face contort in submission."
His kisses meandered down to Felix's stomach taking a moment to appreciate and know every sectioned muscle.
"So," Pan said, sitting up on his legs, trailing his fingers to Felix's painfully ignored erection. "Can I get any clearer?"
"What's stopping you from any of that?" He panted, all but begging to just cut to the chase.
Pan smirked, "The cold."
And with that he stood and sauntered out of the kitchen.
Felix chased after him as though he had hounds on his heels. He pulled the shorter boy into his arms, wasting no time taking his lips into his mouth.
"Can I make you warm enough?"
Pan panted into the lips pushed against him. "Not nearly."
Frowning, Felix pushed Pan down into the sofa, falling on top of him, and promptly put the decorative blanket that once adorned the back of the furniture over them.
He pulled off the rest of Pan's clothes, jeans and boxers lay abandoned on the floor, and grabbed the shorter boy's leg, prompting it to point to the ceiling.
"Look at that," Pan pretended to tut, staring at his leg. At the same time he raised his other leg and tilted his hips upwards, "Goose pimples."
Felix shook his head and kissed Pan again, slowly entering him with one finger. Pan gasped harshly in response.
He shifted slightly underneath Felix, taking his arm and reaching between the cushions, pulling out the large bottle predominantly responsible for their nightly escapades.
Felix stared at him breathlessly, "You knew."
"Well I didn't know you'd be topping." Pan grinned impishly, feigning innocence. "And come to think of it I didn't know you'd want missionary. But you are terribly uncreative so I shouldn't be surprised."
Felix started to vocalize protest, but before he could do so, Pan had the gel out of the bottle and was beginning to coat his partner with both hands.
In retaliation to the cold hands grasping him, Felix pressed another finger a bit harder into Pan.
Both faces were contorted into a mix of pleasure and frustration as they continued. Pan's arms went from Felix's cock to the dip in his back.
"Warm enough now?" Felix asked with a chortle as Pan held him so close it was as though he was trying to make them into one being.
"Actually I-" Peter began but was cut off with Felix's entrance.
Felix smiled darkly, sliding and thrusting into Pan. His backbone quivered, but he kept on without release. He loved watching the other boy's reactions, knowing he could make someone like Pan purr was a power trip like no other. Knowing he was responsible for his lover was something he adored, wanting it far more often than he got it.
After a while of the same violent rhythm, Pan's eyes rolled back in his skull, releasing onto both of their stomachs. Felix pulled in a heated kiss, giving all his lust and passion.
Pan rocked on the cushion under Felix, causing the suede of the sofa to turn from light to dark at an alarming rate.
Felix came shortly after, calling out, arching his back into Pan, kissing his neck. He left him, dripping in sweat, and pulled Pan into an upright position on his legs.
With nothing but shared, ragged breaths, he held him for a moment, feeling the once-magical, but still perfect, being tremble slightly, damp with sweat and released pheromones.
Felix couldn't help but smile when Pan traced a small scar on his shoulder. Pan had given him that, centuries ago. He'd become gentler in bed as time had passed. Whether that was a sign of aging or affection Felix was unsure.
They sat like that, wrapped up in the other, for a few minutes. Familiarity and affection kept their hearts drumming as they relaxed with the other one providing a frame to rest limply on.
After a while, Pan pulled away, wrapping himself in the afghan. "I still hate winter."
Felix chuckled silently.
"And Christmas." Pan put in, taking his hands on Felix's shoulders and pulling him in, moving his other hand to Felix's jaw, moving him like a puppet. "But at least the alcohol's good."
Their lips met for hundredth time that night.
Felix didn't know how he felt about Christmas. It didn't really matter. All he knew was that he was incredibly grateful that it was so cold outside.