A/N: Well, I said I would write more of this, didn't I? (She said, three and a half years later...) Anyway, I was watching Prince Caspian the other day (because I have TiVo now and it's awesome) and I was once again struck by just how much sexual tension there is between our boys Peter and Caspian. So, enjoy! There will be one more chapter after this one, most likely coming very soon...


After the failed break-in at Miraz's castle, Caspian fumed. He knew he couldn't blame Peter for everything that had gone wrong, which was all the more reason why he wanted to. But worse was the way Peter was acting about it, mouth set grimly but still supremely confident that he had done the right thing, leading the Narnians to slaughter.

In the cold grey light of the morning outside Aslan's Howe, Peter threw blame back over his shoulder onto Caspian and Caspian railed, "You could have called it off! There was still time," and then, only then Peter turned to him, looked at him for the first time since crossing the drawbridge.

As they began hurling insults, the crowd around them seemed to fade away, Caspian's world narrowing to a point around Peter. He was unable to see anything but the way Peter's jaw flexed, slightly sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. For a moment, Caspian wanted to brush it to the side, gentle, then he remembered that he hated Peter.

He hardly noticed everyone else slinking quietly inside behind Peter as he said, "You abandoned Narnia."

"You invaded it!" Peter yelled, and when he got to the part about how Narnia was better off without Caspian, Caspian felt his rage unfurl and drew his sword, pressing his advantage at Peter's surprise and driving him back against one of the columns until he sword was at Peter's throat and their bodies were pressed together.

Peter's breath hitched and then quickened for a moment, breaking Caspian's concentration. He looked at Peter's face, and Peter's eyes were on him, mouth slightly open, the hand not squashed between their chests coming to rest on Caspian's waist.

Caspian felt a shudder rip through his belly, not unlike the feeling he got at the start of battle, anticipation and fear and some wild savage joy. Before he could quite sift his mind through what it meant here, now, his sword lowered a notch and Peter's hand left his waist and grabbed the hilt to stop the sword from going through his collarbone.

Softly now, he said, "Caspian, I'm trying to save Narnia," and his thumb stroked Caspian's knuckles, tried to make Caspian lower the sword. The feeling he couldn't account for still tingled in his stomach and he couldn't look in Peter's eyes anymore, it was just too much, so he jerked away quick.

"Well, you're not!" Caspian retorted, cursing himself as he realized he sounded like a petulant child. "You're killing it."

Peter's eyes were downcast now, and he pushed off the column and began to walk toward the entrance of the Howe, saying, "I'd better go see how Trumpkin is doing," leaving Caspian standing there, naked sword dangling to the ground, something unnamable still rushing through him.