Title: Asking To Be Panned
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: The Sixth - Alone At Last.
Rating: Major R for excess smuttiness and fluff. (yipee I hear you yell)
Wendy gets a new home, Peter becomes "a Man" and Hook, well he's up to no good as usual.
Major smut and naughtiness warning. Nothing pornographically explicit, but everything implied.
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With the day drawing to a close, Peter flew with Wendy over the verdant flanks of the dormant volcano that dominated the center of the island. They were taking a last fly about Neverland after a long afternoon spent ferrying Wendy's belongings to their new home. Peter's brag that he had a home in every forest, wasn't far from the truth. Having lived on the island longer than he cared to remember, Peter had created a vast number of hidey-holes and safe-havens in which to stash booty or just as playhouses for innumerable games. Some were completely useless as a home because of their state of either decay or ruin. Others were discarded because they were too small or were damp. In the end, Wendy settled for a large hollowed out tree, not as large as the original tree that Peter had used when the Lost Boys had lived with him, but large and airy enough for Wendy's needs. It was well hidden amongst a stand of ancient looking trees, its entrances disguised by sweetly scented bushes and vines. It was very remote with a supply of sweet mountain water nearby and unlikely to be found by Hook anytime soon. It also had views to die for from the top branches that were wide enough to walk along and towered over its neighbours. Wendy was well satisfied.
With their new home decided upon, Peter quickly carried the trunk and Wendy's carpet bag, along with the bed furs, back to the tree. Wendy decided to call it her Wishing Tree because she couldn't have wished for a snugger or more private cosy nest if she'd designed it that way. The only draw back was its proximity to the Indian camp, but Peter assured her that they were quite oblivious to the Wishing Tree's existence, as Peter had used it at one time as a base while negotiations were going one for the release of his troop of Lost Boys, as was the way of things on Neverland. Sometimes the boys captured the Indians, sometimes the Indians captured the boys. It was a glorious game with few casualties except the occasional bump and bruise which were shown off as badges of great bravery by both sides.
Despite all that, Peter assured Wendy that none of the Indian's, and especially not Tiger Lily, had ever found Peter when he'd used the Wishing Tree as his hideout. Of course, he didn't tell her that Tinkerbell knew of its location, as she did all Peter's hiding places, and that in all likelihood the naughty fairy would find them eventually, if just by the process of elimination. But Peter being who he was, dismissed that problem as of little importance.
Wendy quickly set about putting the house to rights. She found a small but quite cosy bedroom carved out to one side with a wooden sleeping bench, quite wide enough for two which was quickly covered with the sleeping furs and cushions. Next door was a room where she could hang some of her clothes on roots poking through the soil to act as hooks. The main room had its own set of table and chairs, as well as low benches around the walls and a large fireplace dug into one dirt wall, the chimney venting well away from the tree to dispel the smoke.
In all she thought it was quite nice.
She had sent Peter to fill the water butt for their day to day needs, as well as find them something for supper, while she tidied the place and sorted out what they'd need in the way of candles and clean surfaces. She'd found an old sack dress in the trunk and was happily flapping a duster around, not worried that the dress quickly showed signs of her industry with smuts around its hem and sleeves. She swept the floor, careful not to raise too much of a dust, pushing the pile of frass and waste to one side for disposal later on. After that she scrubbed the table and found, and cleaned, the odd collection of eating and cooking utensils stored in a chest by the fire. By the time Peter had finished filling the water butt and arrived back with his arms full of a variety of fruit, Wendy was satisfied the place was livable and completely free of any creepy crawlies and furry livestock.
Using some of the water, she filled a kettle and hung it over the crackling fire to warm, before turning to Peter.
"Goodness, I'm ravenous!" She exclaimed, licking her lips at the array of delicacies set out on the table. Peter wiped his hands down his trouser leg and reached for a juicy looking fruit.
"Oh no....we much wash first...you can't eat with dirty hands!"
With his hand frozen in space, Peter looked up at Wendy.
"But...but..."
"Hands Peter....." Wendy held out a small rag to be used as a towel and pointed to the bucket waiting for just that use. Sighing, Peter did as she bid, washing his face at the same time. Wendy did the same once he'd finished, then joined him at the table. They ate companionably, darting glances at each other, exchanging smiles across the table, fingers touching when they reached for the same fruit. Both were enjoying the flirting, Peter waggling his eyebrows, Wendy batting her lashes and blushing, both giggling over their meal like children.
Eventually there was nothing left to consume, the table littered with pips and rinds and splattered juice. Wendy looked down at her dress and frowned at the stains liberally marking the bodice. Her hands were sticky as well as her face.
"I need a bath."
Peter instantly perked up, his body feeling electrified. "A bath?"
"Yes, a bath....I'm dusty and sticky and I'm not going to bed like this."
"There is a small pool, not as big as the pond, but it should be enough to wash in, if you want me to show you?"
"Oh yes Peter, please......I'll get the soap and a clean dress."
Peter grinned inanely as Wendy bustled out of the room. He wanted to crow and fly, his anticipation growing out of all proportion to the simple act of taking a bath. He felt almost giddy, as if all the blood in his head had just headed south. Which, in all probability, it had.
Wendy appeared, still wearing her dirty dress, but holding another over her arm along with a small drawstring bag to hold the soap and a square of fabric to use for a towel. She smiled coyly at Peter who leaped up to join her.
"It'll be dark soon, do we need to take a candle to light the way?"
"Oh no....you won't need a light....take my hand, I'd know the way even if I was blindfolded."
"I might just make you prove that!" Wendy laughed, her step light as they left through the tunnel and found themselves outside in the dusk of early evening, the sky already spangled with stars. Peter led her through the surrounding shrubbery along a faintly discernible path, holding back any branches that looked like they might catch her, his care giving her a warm feeling in her heart. After a few minutes they arrived at the bank of the stream, its gurgling passage sounding loud over the night insects humming among the branches. Peter carried on walking along the bank, her hand still held firmly in his, his teeth flashing in the darkness as he turned to check on her every few seconds. Soon the stream started to widen and a small pool appeared, its surface dark and mysterious, only the faint ripple of current disturbing its depths. By now it was almost full dark with only the faintest light coming from the sky and stars, but enough for Wendy to see what she was doing.
"Peter...turn around please." Wendy asked, reaching around the back to undo the buttons on her dress.
"No."
Peter's emphatic reply sent heat coursing through her. Her fingers faltered as she stared back at him, only the gleam of his eyes and the white of his teeth visible in the gloom.
"Oh."
"I want to see you Wendy....all of you...."
"Oh."
Blushing, despite all her previous designs to seduce Peter, it was now he who was seducing her, and it sent shivers of delight all over her.
Peter slowly moved around her, pushing her fingers away from the back of the dress, his own taking over the task of releasing the buttons down the length of her spine until the dress hung loosely off her shoulders. Pushing apart the material, Peter pressed his warm lips to the skin between her shoulder blades.
"Oooooooooh." Wendy gasped, her head dropping forward as his lips crept up to nuzzle at the nape of her neck after pushing her hair out of the way.
"All of you..." Peter said again, this time in a whisper that sent skitters of heat down to her curling toes. Relaxing her arms, Wendy allowed Peter to push the dress from her shoulders so that the bodice fell to her waist, baring her back completely. Peter hands lightly skimmed over her shoulders and arms down to her waist.
"You feel so soft."
Breathing heavily, Wendy stood still as Peter marked her back with small kisses as light as a butterfly, all the way down to her waistline. Undoing the last three buttons, Peter pushed the dress over her hips so that is fell to her ankles in a pool of material, leaving her naked to the night.
Wendy held her breath, her body quivering as she felt his eyes trace their way down her back, over the swell of her hips and buttocks, down her legs and back up again. She heard the rustle of fabric and waited expectantly.
"Wendy?"
"Yes Peter...."
"Turn around..."
Slowly, her head downcast, Wendy complied with his request. As she suspected, Peter had shed his own clothes and now stood as naked as she. His body, so different from hers, was all shadows and silver highlights, his eyes gleaming as he also stared at the contours and shadows that gently displayed her beauty to his wondering eyes.
For a long moment they stayed there, a foot apart, just drinking in the beauty of the other. Slowly, Wendy reached up and flipped her long hair out of the way and back over her shoulder. As if galvanized by that simple act, Peter stepped forward and took her in his arms, his warmth meeting her cool flesh like a flame, their mouths fusing in a kiss that took both their breaths away. Like two jigsaw puzzles they fitted together perfectly, her curves to his hard planes, her arms holding him close to her, exciting him further as they moved together.
Sticky hands and dusty hair were forgotten in the rush to complete what had been started, both sinking to the mossy ground in a tangle of legs and arms, mouths not parting as softness met hardness and one enveloped the other. Soon the river bank was mute witness to the consummation of a promise made many years before, now fulfilled with soft moans and sharp cries as two became one under the starry sky.
All too soon the heady rush was over and they lay, still entwined, panting and gasping, boneless and incredulous, in the aftermath.
Peter raised his head, looking down at Wendy laying beneath him. Her eyes were closed, but her lips were parted, drawing in panting breaths as if she'd been running.
"Wendy?"
"Hmmmmmm?"
"Is it supposed to be like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like...like...burning in an inferno and then suddenly plunging into the sea only to be pulled apart by the stars!"
Wendy chuckled. "Yes Peter....it's how the poets always describe it, but I didn't know myself until a few minutes ago how right they were."
"I didn't hurt you did I? You were crying out like you were in pain."
"No...I wasn't in pain...although I suppose I should have been. I think you burnt all the pain away."
"Oh......good." He kissed her throat where a pulse beat strongly. "Do you feel like burning again?"
Wendy opened her eyes and stared up at his face. She could only faintly make out his features, his head surrounded by stars, his warmth surrounding her, in her, everywhere he touched her.
"I love you Peter........I think I always have, even before you came to the nursery window all that long time ago."
"Is this really love Wendy? I mean, true love, the one and only kind of love......"
"You mean, happily ever after love?" Wendy sighed. "Yes Peter...this is that kind of love."
He shifted slightly, his body still fitted to hers, and now evidently quite ready for another bout of lovemaking under the stars.
"Is there more to this?" Peter started to move his hips slowly, heat springing to life at every point of contact between them.
"Much, much more..." Wendy murmured, her legs wrapping around his as she moved to his rhythm.
"Show me."
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Wendy couldn't stop smiling. Her cheeks ached from the almost permanent smile plastered across her face. Other parts of her also ached, but then she'd never had occasion to use those particular muscles before so it wasn't entirely surprising if they twinged in protest at their overuse in the past few days.
Since their initiation into the rites of love on the banks of the stream, Wendy and Peter hadn't been apart for more than an hour at a time. Each time they came together it provoked another bout of bone-melting lovemaking, Peter's desire for her almost as insatiable as her desire for him. Their young bodies had responded to that desire with unbridled ardor. It didn't matter whether it was day or night, they simple couldn't get enough of each other. It had almost become pointless to wear any clothes, as no sooner had they apparently exhausted themselves and got dressed to carry out some necessary chore than they found themselves drawn together and shedding their recently donned apparel once more and indulging in another bout among the furs.
For a brief time the outside world ceased to exist, the universe containing only them and their immediate surroundings. Stifling a yawn, Wendy poked at the fire to ginger up the embers before hanging a fresh pot of water over the flames. Straightening up, she rested a hand against her back to ease a faint twinge before heading off for the bedroom for a well earned rest. Peter was off getting supplies, having exhausted the bounty of the wood surrounding their tree, he had to go further everyday to fill their tiny larder. Wendy had also suggested that meat would be welcome, either fish or fowl, to supplement their diet. Having sent him off with a kiss and a wave, she set too, tidying up the few belongings scattered over the floor after their morning tumble on the breakfast table. Wendy smiled as she remembered Peter's ardent kisses and heated embrace, her own body wet and willing to receive his hard eagerness into her softness.
Smiling to herself, Wendy entered the small bedroom and flopped down on the covers, asleep before her head touched the heaped pillows.
Arriving back home an hour later, Peter dumped his brace of Guinea fowl and fruit on the cleared table before going in search of Wendy. Finding her fast asleep on the furs, he stripped off and joined her, snuggling up to her soft warmth, still encased in her rumpled dress, his body responding to her nearness even as his eyes slid shut in welcome sleep.
Outside the tree, Tinkerbell sat down on a soft leaf and cradled her chin in her hands, elbows resting on her knees. She'd been looking for Peter for the past few days, having heard about the run in with Hook and his pirates from the troop of monkeys. It had been sheer luck that she'd spotted Peter checking one of his traps in the forest, his whoop of success catching her ear as she flitted through the trees after checking one of his multitudinous hide outs. She'd been very careful not to alert Peter to her presence, keeping him in view but herself hidden. Finding herself getting closer to the Indian village she guessed where he was headed, having it confirmed when Peter arrived at the huge oak and disappeared inside. Not at all sure of her reception, Tink sat outside. This particular tree was one of the hardest to spy on, having no outside windows, only scattered ventilation holes to let in air and sunshine, the entrance well hidden and secure.
She waited an hour before attempting to enter. Squeezing herself into one of the narrow shafts that dotted the trunk, Tink silently entered the tree. She kept her glow low as she entered the hollowed out trunk. Finding the main room empty, she darted across the ceiling to the fireplace, the kettle hanging over the flames letting out streamers of steam as it bubbled merrily. Hearing a soft snore, Tink flittered to the alcove against the back wall and hovered in the doorway. A candle burned in a niche and clearly illuminated the pair on the bed. Tink's shoulders drooped as she took in the entwined arms and legs, Peter's naked back gleaming in the candlelight, Wendy's hair like liquid gold where it spread on the pillows.
Both were sound asleep, unable to keep their hands off each other even in sleep. Tink silently entered the bedroom and hovered over the couch, careful to not wake the lovers.
"Oh Peter.....I am too late.....you are lost to me now!"
A fat tear rolled down her tiny cheek and she darted back, so as to keep the tear from splashing on Peter's face and waking him. Sniffing and wiping her eyes, Tink swooped down and pressed her lips to Peter's cheek before darting up and away and out of the tree.
Peter heard the faint tinkling noise as if from a great distance, the light pressure on his cheek not enough to drag him from the comfortable depths of slumber. Shifting, he rolled further onto his side, his leg positioned possessively between Wendy's, his arm looped around her waist.
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Hook paced his cabin with poorly concealed ill-humour. He still smarted from the ease with which the infuriating flying brat had overcome him and his men. In retaliation to the smirks he knew were directed at his back, Hook ordered the ship to be scrubbed again from top to bottom. The grumbling from the crew ceased abruptly when Hook tossed one careless sailor over the side to the sharks below.
Now he had a spotless ship and a subdued crew but still no amelioration of his lacerated pride.
And to top it off, he'd nicked himself shaving that morning.
He couldn't even blame it on Smee. He'd been shooed from the Captain's Cabin to allow Hook some time to brood and to shave himself. Unfortunately, Hook had been distracted by the remembrance of Peter's cocky smirk and the blade slipped, nicking his chin and ruining his neck cloth with spots of blood. Ripping the inoffensive rag from around his neck, Hook unleashed his bad temper on his cabin, wreaking havoc on any inanimate object that caught his eye. Now the room wasn't fit to live in, and there was no-one to blame but himself. Which, naturally enough, put him in an even fouler mood than he's was already in.
Scowling horribly, he slammed open his cabin door to find Smee, with his fist upraised to knock, cowering on the other side.
"What de ye want, ya sniveling slug belly?"
"Oh....er...um...I...er.....um.....wondered....oh dear....um..."
Impatient with his bosun's dithering speech, Hook threaded his metal appendage through Smee's neckchief and lifted the poor man upwards so that his toes barely supported his weight.
"Enough sniveling Smee........we're going ashore."
"Oh right....yes, right you are Capt'n....ashore....a picnic is it?"
"No....not a picnic.....we go ashore to hunt Pan!"
"Yes...of course, silly me not to realise that. So...um...the ebony or the ivory pistols this time?"
"Both.....I want the crew fully armed with pistol and sword. And bring a net, I don't want to miss an opportunity if it presents itself."
"Righty ho you....er....put me down?"
Immediately Smee found himself on the deck, his legs giving way to deposit him on his broad backside.
"I want to be on-shore within the hour Mister Smee."
"As you wish, Capt'n. An hour it 'tis."
Hook watched his portly first mate pull out a whistle and blow on it three time before scampering up the stairs to the poop-deck to marshall the crew. Ducking back into his ruined cabin, Hook opened the wooden case that held his selection of hooks. He exchanged his single hook for the double bladed one, the satisfying click of the new hook snicking into place soothing some of his anger. He would be prepared this time for any tricks Pan or his Wendy tried to play, and he wouldn't be fooled by that pretty face either.
Feeling a surge of energy course through his body, Hook snagged his hat from the back of his chair and swaggered out of the cabin and up onto the deck, his crewmen rushing hither and thither as they prepared to disembark. Hook stood among the maelstrom, his eyes staring at the not-to-distant shoreline, his thoughts consumed with entertaining variations on a theme in regards to capturing Peter Pan, the why's, wherefore's and satisfying conclusion to the forthcoming hunt.
"Not long now, Peter Pan...I'll have you both as my....guests! Then we'll see who is the one to crow!"
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(now wasn't that fun - chocolate anyone??)